Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Saturday October 30th 2038, 4 PM - 6 PM

“Hi, my name is Lance. I am the android sent by Eden Club.”

Keith Kogane felt his jaw drop to his chest, his face flushing a velvet red. While examining the android in front of him, he quickly tried to regain his composure. Its dim blue eyes were scanning his body up and down, its mouth giving off a confident smirk. The android had one hand placed casually on its hip, the other came up to ruffle through its short maroon hair. The machine wore a standard dark grey android jacket and pants, its model and serial number displayed in white print on the jacket’s right side. On the left, a blue triangle was placed over the location of the biocomponent made to resemble a human heart.  LX700 Keith read. He’d never heard of that model before. Not that he was very experienced with escort androids, or androids in general for that matter. This one, apparently going by the name Lance, was just slightly taller than him with flawless tan skin and plump inviting lips. If this had been a boy on the street, Keith would have stared. But it wasn’t. It was clearly an android, an android meant to fulfil erotic fantasies. And Keith had most definitely NOT ordered said android to his home.

“You’re Keith Kogane, right?” it spoke again, voice smooth and steady, the smirk still lingering on its lips. “Are you gonna invite me in or are we supposed to stay here looking awkwardly at each other? It’s ok, I don’t judge”, Lance shrugged its shoulders.

“Umm… Who sent you here exactly?” Keith asked, trying not to make his voice tremble. This had quickly turned into a very uncomfortable situation. He swiftly scanned the hallway to see if any of the neighbors had noticed them.

“You did hermoso. I’m here to serve you, remember?” Handsome, serve, this model was clearly specialized in seduction. Keith gulped. He was not going to fall for this sick joke. Someone had to be right around the corner with a camera or something. Could it be Pidge? This certainly seemed like something their twisted mind could come up with. Keith could not help looking down at its lips again. The damn android still wore that adorable smirk, its blinking LED the only thing that separated it from an approximately 20-year-old male. It was Keith’s type all right. Whoever ordered it had hit the nail on the head. However, he was not going to admit that to anyone. He scanned the hallway again, more thoroughly this time.

“There’s no one here, your neighbors are out. It’s just you and me. All alone.” The last part was whispered seductively with a slight Spanish accent. Keith felt a small shiver go down his spine. He wouldn’t really mind being seduced by that voice. No, he had to focus. He shook his head and cleared his throat, locking his eyes on the android’s serial number before speaking:

“I’m sorry, I haven’t ordered y-your s-service.” Keith internally cursed at himself for stuttering. The android looked somewhat amused, chuckling a little before leaning in closer. Keith could feel its simulated breathing hot on his face as it whispered again. “I guess this must be your lucky day then, because I’m rented to this address for the next two hours”. Lance pulled back slightly, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Are you sure no one is in the hallway?” Keith asked, now trembling slightly. “Positive. I am programmed not to lie”. The android then winked at him, clearly amused by his awkwardness. Simulated emotions Keith reminded himself.

Keith stepped in trough the doorway and quickly motioned for the android to follow him. It closed the door after them and leaned up against the wall, quickly scanning the area around it before settling its cobalt eyes on Keith once again. “Ummm… Y-you stay here. I’m just gonna make a quick phone call” he managed to stutter before leaving the hallway and entering the kitchen. As he picked up his phone from the kitchen counter he heard Lance’s voice calling out to him “Don’t make me wait for too long, pretty boy!” He felt his face turn all shades of red again.

The first number he dialed was Pidge’s. They picked up after three rings, their voice coated thick with sleep even though it was four in the afternoon. “Whaddaya want?” they muttered annoyed, yawning into the microphone. Keith felt himself getting more and more fired up by the second. He was incredibly annoyed by that feigned tone of ignorance coming from his younger friend. “You know damn well what I want!” he yelled. “What the fuck has gotten into your sick mind for you to send a god damn sex android to my house?? It’s the middle of the day, anyone could have seen it!” The only thing he could hear on the other end was some sort of sick cackle and a thumping noise indicating that Pidge had fallen out of their bed. “AHAHAHHAHAHAHAAAHAA!” The little gremlin sounded like they were about to die from laughter. “IT’S NOT FUNNY!” Keith screamed at them, feeling his face turn hot and his palms sweaty. “Get it to leave, please!”

It was silent on the other end for a couple of seconds, probably because Pidge was taking their time to sit back up on the bed. Then the chuckling started again. At the same time, a voice called from the hallway “Ouch, that was hurtful Keith! I thought you liked me!” Aaaand he was blushing again. Couldn’t that damn thing just shut up?

“OMG you weren’t joking!” the chuckling continued to rise in volume.  “Of course I wasn’t! Now get it to leave!”

“Sorry dude, this is not my doing. I really wish it was, but it isn’t.”

“What do you mean?” Keith yelled, his stress intensifying. “Who else would come up with such a sick joke?” He tried to think of someone other than Pidge capable of having such twisted sense of humor but came up empty handed. “I am flattered, I really am. But someone else has to take the credit for this one.”

“But no one else could possibly be this evil and disgusting. It has to be you!” Keith felt himself grasping at straws. Surely it had to be Pidge. The little evil scumbag was just playing games with him. “In all seriousness, it wasn’t me. I swear.” Keith sighed in defeat. Pidge was an asshole all right, but they never would have lied to him.

“Then why is it here?”

“Beats me. Maybe someone actually tried to be nice to you?”

“But who could possibly think this would be an appropriate thing to do?”

“I think we both know the answer to that question.”

Keith groaned audibly, his left hand palming his face. “Oh my god, you mean it’s Shiro? I told him I was stressed out the other day and THIS is how he responds??” He could hear Pidge trying to stay serious at the other end of the phone and failing miserably. Soon their laugh plummeted through the speakers again, followed by another thump. They really needed to learn how to balance better. “I’m sorry Keith, this is just so fucking hilarious!” The sound of them taking a deep breath and regaining their composure could be heard through the speakers. “But yeah, I agree. This has to be the work of Takashi Dense dad Shirogane.”

Keith groaned again. “Why did I have to be cursed with such an imbecile of a brother?” He took a deep breath, preparing himself for what had to be done. Confronting his brother with this would not be fun. But first, he had to take care of the gremlin. “Please promise me you won’t tell anyone.” Pidge snickered on the other end. “My silence is never for free, Kogane, you know that.”

“I will buy you the new Zelda VR-game you wanted. Just please, keep quiet!”

“I knew I could count on you! I want the code by next Friday.”

“Fine... Talk to you later.” Keith sighed in defeat.

“Have fun with your present!”

“PIDGE!” but the teen had already hung up on him. They were probably rolling on the floor laughing right now. I guess I can’t blame them for reacting that way, this is pretty fucked up. Keith started pacing back and forth in the kitchen pulling on his hair and groaning. He completely missed the sound of footsteps from the hallway, and practically jumped from astonishment at the voice coming from the other side of the room.

“You sound tense, lindo. Want me to loosen you up a bit?” Keith turned around. There was that trademark smirk again. How was it even possible to have such pearly white teeth? Because it isn’t human Keith reminded himself. It is a machine designed to be appealing. Designed for my pleasure. The thought did not do much to calm his growing arousal and embarrassment. He opted for ignoring it this time, and quickly unlocked his phone to dial Shiro’s number. While it rang, he felt a pair of strong hands settling on his shoulders, slowly kneading his tense muscles. Lance hummed a soft melody, and Keith felt his body melt into the touch. His tension started fading away. “Does that feel good?” a soft voice murmured into his ear, as one of the hands started rubbing his back in circular motions. “Yes” Keith felt his heartbeat steadily rising. But this time it was different. He was filled with anticipation. The android clearly knew what it was doing.

“Hello little brother” he jumped at the voice coming through at the other end of the line, the memory of calling someone already wiped from his mind. He barely registered what Shiro was saying, his body leaning into the touch of the LX700. His touch felt so good. It, its touch he reminded himself. This was just a machine, after all.

“Did you get my present?” The question snapped Keith back to reality. He quickly straightened himself, pulling his body away from Lance’s touch. “Hey!” the android called out, seemingly surprised. Its circular LED flashed yellow for a split second, before going back to its original blue color. It cocked its head slightly, looking at him with (simulated, Keith muttered under his breath) worry in its eyes. “You ok?”

“I’m fine!” Keith breathed, sending Lance a reassuring smile. Then he placed the phone by his ear again, finally answering his brother (“Keith?” had been uttered from said phone several times during the quick exchange).

“Yes, hi Shiro!”

“Good, it’s you! I thought I heard someone else.” Keith had to hold back a sigh of frustration. How did his brother manage to be this dense?

“Of course you heard someone else! You sent me a fucking sex robot, remember?? What’s up with that anyway?” He heard a light cough on the other end of the line before Shiro answered him. By now he had started to absentmindedly pace the room again, shoving the Lance android out into the hallway to get more space. It raised its hands in slight protest, but otherwise did nothing to stop him.

“Yeah, right! With you being so stressed out with all your college projects and everything, I figured you’d might need some help to relax. You know, clear your mind.”

“And your idea of fixing that is by sending me a sex toy???” Keith didn’t notice his voice raising to a high pitch. His pacing intensified, and he started absentmindedly biting his thumb, drawing blood.

Suddenly he felt that muscular hand on his shoulder again. He looked up at Lance who just smiled fondly at him, motioning for him turn around so he could massage his shoulders. I guess it wouldn’t hurt he thought, and let his body relax once more. He opened his mouth to speak again, this time in a softer voice. He should try not to be too mad at Shiro. He had obviously done this in an effort to make him feel better, no matter how awkward of a gesture it was.

“I’m sorry I raised my voice at you. I just… This is a pretty strange gift to give. Especially to your brother. And I feel really weirded out by you thinking that I would enjoy having sex with a robot.”

“It IS weird isn’t it? I really should have listened to Matt and just ordered you some pizza. But I figured this would be good for you. I know you haven’t had a boyfriend in a while, and well, I thought this might cheer you up. I read the other day that one out of every three college students are lonely…” Shiro continued to ramble, and Keith was sure his older brother was blushing right now, probably running his hand through his hair. Shiro always had the best of intentions, but why did he have to be so awkward? Well, at least Keith knew whom he had picked up that skill from.

“Whether or not I have sex shouldn’t really be something you concern yourself with, you know? And even if I wanted that, I would much prefer to go out to a club and find someone…” he looked over his shoulder at Lance’s LED “…well, more human. Robots don’t really do much for me.” Lance pressed a soft kiss to the nape of his neck, as if to say that he (It, Keith cursed internally) accepted the challenge this statement had come with. Keith had to fight back a moan. “A-and besides. Several people fuck these machines every single day. The thought of a middle-aged sweaty man’s fluids being all over this thing is really not that appealing.”

“I’m a prototype model. Only one of its kind. Straight out of the factory. I’ve never been used before. You’ll be my first.” the answer came in a seductive whisper as soon as the last word of his sentence had fallen from his lips, followed by another kiss to his exposed neck. Keith felt himself growing hard at this. Embarrassingly hard. He let out a small whine. Luckily, Shiro didn’t seem to have heard this exchange.

“Don’t worry. I asked them to send you a new one.” The android continued with its assault on Keith’s neck, and he found it increasingly harder to focus. But he would never in his right mind admit to his brother that he wanted to have sex with this robot.

“I still think it’s kinda weird. I’ll have it sent back to the club. Thanks anyway, I can pay you back if you want.” He felt the kisses stop as Lance stepped back, turned and started walking towards the hallway. What was that about? He thought.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll send you that pizza later to make it up to you, sorry.”

“It’s ok. Thank you, Shiro. Talk to you later.”

“Bye Keith, I love you.”

“Love you too.” he hung up and placed his phone on the kitchen counter again before following the Lance android into the hallway. Once he was there, he cleared his throat to get its attention.

“Ahem” Lance turned its head, its ocean eyes piercing through Keith’s purple. “Where are you going?” he asked, suddenly feeling uncertain. If he did this, there really was no turning back. He would become a freak. The kind of man his friends would laugh at. But its skin seemed so soft, its lips so inviting. Designed for my pleasure he thought again, his erection straining in his pants. Keith gulped.

“I am heading back to the factory, you said you wanted to return me, remember?” Lance stated matter-of-factly. It turned around again, walking towards the front door with determined steps. Keith’s body acted before his mind could stop him. He forcefully grabbed Lance’s arm, pulling it back so its rear was flush against his chest. “Wait. Don’t leave yet.”

The android freed itself from his grasp and turned to face him. Its eyes scanned him with an unmasked fascination. “Your actions confuse me, Keith. First, you want me to go. Now you say you want me to stay. But my presence is clearly making you uncomfortable. Are all humans this indecisive?”

“I-I didn’t say I want to do anything. I just don’t see the point in you leaving when I’ve paid for your time.” Keith rambled on, trying to justify his past actions to himself. You cannot do this he told himself determinedly. This is a robot, how much of a freak are you?

Lance leaned in closer, his hand coming up to grab Keith’s shirt by the collar. Lowering his voice, he brought out that husky whisper again. “Well, I don’t see the point in me staying here unless I do my job.” Keith felt a hand ghost over the outside of his jeans, brushing against his covered member. He shivered. Another whimper escaped his slightly parted lips. Oh, Lord Jesus I want him so bad. Lance cupped his chin in its left hand, tilting it upwards before hovering his lips over Keith’s, just barely avoiding their touch. Keith felt his face heat up again, his heartbeat ringing through his ears. The LED on its forehead flashed repeatedly as it scanned every inch of Keith’s face. His eyes, his ebon skin, the tiny freckles lightly dusted across his nose. Keith almost felt vulnerable being observed up close like this. He tried to speak, but his words were stuck in his throat. So beautiful. He lifted his hand to comb through Lance’s hair. So soft. Their gazes met once more, before Keith’s eyes quickly flitted down to Lance’s lips. I bet they are soft too. Lance smirked, its eyes never leaving Keith’s.

“This boils down to two options. One, I leave here before you waste any more of my time. Or two, we use this remaining hour to have some fun. If not, I will have been paid in advance for nothing. It’s your choice babe”. All these nicknames made Keith’s knees grow weak. To hell with it!

Keith’s chapped lips smashed against Lance’s plump ones. His first kiss, he thought. Their lips fit together perfectly, tongues wrestling and teeth nibbling at each other’s lips in a seductive dance. Lance easily won the fight for dominance, and his tongue continued to plunge into Keith’s mouth, making him spill out obscene noises. While doing this, he lifted Keith’s shirt and started to tug at it. Keith lifted his arms pliantly, and they stopped kissing for a split second to allow the garment to be slipped off him. Keith pulled Lance back in immediately. Desperate to feel its - his - touch. He started tugging at the buttons of his jacket, trying to push them through the hoops. Keith let out a frustrated groan, realizing that he was failing miserably.

The kissing stopped, and a pair of hands came down to remove his from the buttons. “Let me do that for you, sweetheart.” Lance hummed, unbuttoning his jacket with ease, before throwing it aside in one swift motion. It took only a millisecond for Keith’s lips to be back on his. He leaned in eagerly, deepening the kiss. Wanting to feel more of him. More of Lance. His hands roamed under the android’s shirt, feeling the steady beat of his biocomponents. There was a comforting heat seeping out through his body. Like he was pulsing with energy. Keith savored the feeling of that heat against his skin, burning it into his memory.

Soon Lance’s white shirt, along with his jeans, was laying on the floor in a pool next to the boys. Keith couldn’t help looking at the bulge in the android’s underwear. He seemed to be packing a lot. Well, he is a sex robot. It would make sense for him to be… big. Keith gulped, willing his eyes to leave Lance’s bulge.

“Like what you see, sweetie?” Keith felt hands on him once again. Strong hands roaming across his chest, a thumb flicking over his left nipple. He moaned softly and was earned with another flick. “So sensitive” Lance murmured, his lips ghosting along Keith’s collarbone before sucking at the soft, pale skin, covering it in small hickeys. Those lips were like heaven, and Keith wanted nothing more than their undivided attention. The hands started roaming lower on his body, fingers hovering over Keith’s abs, tracing a small trail of black hairs from Keith’s navel down towards his lower abdomen. As the hand ghosted over his clothed sex Keith’s pulse quickened, his chest heaving in anticipation.

Instead of freeing Keith’s member from its confinements, the hands went around his body, cupping his ass. Lips brushed alongside the edge of Keith’s ear, making him shiver. “Jump!” Lance commanded. Keith obliged, wrapping his legs around the android’s waist, feeling himself being lifted of the ground. Lance continued to pay attention to his ear, sucking at the lobe playfully. Keith bit his lower lip and moaned hoarsely, combing his fingers through Lance’s soft brown hair, tugging at it slightly.

Their lips met in another tender kiss, tongues brushing against each other fighting for dominance. “Bedroom?” Lance asked, giving Keith’s ass a light squeeze. “Up the stairs. First door to the left.” A few quick strides later, and Keith was being pushed gently onto the edge of his mattress, lips once again attacking his sensitive neck. “L-lance.” He gasped, feeling a hand playing with the waistband of his jeans.

“I think it is time we got rid of this, don’t you?” Lance didn’t wait for an answer, discarding his boxers without hesitation. Keith felt a hand gripping his already rock-hard member, giving it a few experimental strokes. He was sure that the sounds who left his mouth were ungodly. The feeling of being touched by someone other than himself, he had almost forgotten how much more satisfying that was.

“Someone’s excited.” Lance murmured, his face dipping down between Keith’s legs to study his member in detail. Being this exposed made his cheeks flush red from embarrassment, but the sudden feeling of a warm mouth enveloping the tip of his member made him forget all about it. “Please don’t stop. So good.” He grabbed a fistful of Lance’s hair, helping him bob up and down on his cock. The combination of sucking and licking on his member made him lose his mind. This was by far the best blowjob he had ever received. I guess people order these things for a reason.

He soon felt his cock reach the back of Lance’s throat, and what was there sent him skyrocketing into oblivion. Pulsing vibrations spread throughout his member, filling him with a sensation unlike anything he had ever felt before. “L-lance, I’m close.” He moaned breathlessly, tugging at his hair forcefully to keep himself grounded.

With a loud pop, Lance released Keith’s cock from his mouth, moving up to kiss him softly on his forehead. “Gorgeous.” He whispered, thumb caressing Keith’s cheek fondly. Pulling him in for another kiss, Keith bucked his hips up towards Lance’s, desperate for friction. “So eager. Patience, hermoso. I will take good care of you.” The husky Spanish accent went straight to Keith’s abdomen, making it twitch with excitement. Noticing his partners lack of nudity, Keith propped himself up on one elbow and started tugging at Lance’s briefs. They were swiftly removed, and now it was Keith’s turn to grab a hold and brush his fingers across the others pulsating head. To his surprise, Lance let out a tiny whimper at the touch. Leaning in closer, Keith gave the shaft a tentative lick. He couldn’t believe his eyes. Lance was shivering, his eyes half-lidded, staring at Keith with a lustful gaze. He suddenly felt very pleased with himself, but also quite astounded. He had never heard of androids with actual sexual desires before. Maybe he is just faking it? “You… Can you feel that?” he asked curiously, giving another lick to empathize his question.

“Y-yeah.” Lance’s voice was shaking. “I am equipped with a signal network comparable to a nervous system. Complete with erogenous zones. I didn’t really know what that implied until now. I guess it’s there to make the act more believable.” Keith’s face lit up at this. Lance was able to feel him. He was enjoying himself. Flipping them around, Keith hovered over Lance’s crotch, blowing hot steams of air onto his pulsing member. Once more, he let his tongue flicker across the shaft, swirling it across the head when he came to the top. Lance moaned.

“What are you doing?” Keith looked up. The gaze that met him was a mix between lust and confusion. “What does it look like I’m doing?” he smirked, wrapping a hand around the waiting cock, stroking it tantalizingly slow. Moving his head down again, Keith took the cock in his mouth and started bobbing his head up and down at a slow pace. Soon he felt hands tangling into his hair and heard Lance’s ragged breathing. “This… This isn’t right. I’m the one who’s supposed to pleasure you. You are the customer.”

Keith pauses to look up at him with a lustful gaze, before rolling his tongue over the android’s tip, pressing down on the slit at its head. His reward came in the form of another moan. “Why are you doing this?”

“You like it, don’t you?” Keith was amazed at how seductive his own voice sounded. Lance nodded, opening his mouth to say something more. “Then keep that pretty mouth of yours shut and let me suck your dick.” Lance’s jaw snapped shut and he took a sharp breath, shuddering.

Keith continued his administrations on the member standing at full attention in front of him. He had been completely right – Lance was huge. Lance’s cock felt warm despite its android stature. It pulsed and twitched in time with his movements, just like a human one would. He took it deep over and over, gagging when the head hit the back of his throat. Tears started forming at the corner of his eyes, but he kept going. All the noises coming from Lance’s mouth was worth the small stings of pain.

 “Keith, that feels so good. You look so pretty sucking my cock.” Now it was Keith’s turn to moan at the praise, his cock spasming between his legs. Lance smirked at his reaction, using his newfound leverage to regain control of the situation. “Such a pretty boy. So good for me.”

Keith’s whole body was convulsing, precome leaking from his tip while he sucked down harder. “You like feeling my big cock down your throat? You’re doing such a good job, taking it all in like the good boy you are.” And there he was, coming untouched with a cock down his throat like a 15-year-old virgin, his body shaking, and his lips swollen from stretching around Lance’s thick member. Lance pulled him up and placed him in his lap, giving him a tender kiss. “You did so good. That was amazing.”

“But, but… I wasn’t finished.” Keith started protesting, his hands gripping for Lance’s member desperately. The soft laugh that escaped Lance’s lips as he gripped his wrists and placed them behind his back made Keith’s heart flutter. “As much as I would love for that to continue, we’re getting kinda short on time. And there’s more of you I would really like to explore…” With one hand still holding his wrists, Keith felt another coming down to circle his opening. “Only if you want to, of course.”

He started nodding frantically, already feeling himself growing harder at the thought. “Good. Lie down for me, hermoso.” Obedient as ever, Keith laid down on his back, spreading his legs widely in anticipation for what was to come. Lance leaned over his body, licking his lips. Keith was completely lost in the pool of his ocean blue eyes. Then he felt something cold touch his rim, making him shiver. The digit pushed at his opening before entering slowly, going in all the way to the base and back out. The movement repeated itself a couple of times before Keith felt a strange buzzing sensation that made him let out a cry. It fucking vibrates.

As if this new sensation wasn’t enough, Lance seemed to be getting impatient as well, picking up the pace and thrusting his finger dead on Keith’s prostate. The only thing he managed to do was shiver and whimper as his eyes rolled back into his skull, hands gripping at the sheets so hard they went numb. He felt Lance’s soft lips on his as another finger was added to the mix and had to hold himself back from screaming at the top of his lungs.

While scissoring him open, Lance started whispering words of praise and admiration into his ears, and Keith was falling hard. He is so perfect, I wish I could keep him. No, he had to stop those thoughts before they could fully manifest. This was a robot after all. A machine devoid of emotions. In the end, he is nothing more than a program. A bunch of ones and zeroes. But at least for now, I can pretend.

Keith didn’t notice how his body had gone fully limp and his brows had furrowed from thinking. “What’s wrong, lindo? Do you want me to stop?” The fingers had long since retracted, and Lance looked down on him with concern in his eyes, his LED steadily blinking yellow.

“It’s ok I was just… It’s been a while since the last time I did this.” And it had been, so in that sense he wasn’t really lying to him. Besides, what would he say? Oh, I was just thinking about how hopelessly lost I am in your eyes while you won’t even remember me an hour from now when you are hovering over your next client.

“Don’t worry hermoso. I will make you feel good. It won’t hurt.” A soft kiss was pressed against his forehead, and Keith let his head sink back into the pillow. At least for now, I can pretend. Pretend that he wants me. Pretend that he cares. With this in mind, he closed his eyes again and relaxed when the fingers penetrated his entrance. The scissoring motions resumed, and Keith allowed his mind to switch off. Feeling only pleasure. Only Lance.

“Please Lance, I’m ready.” Keith uttered breathlessly. He felt the fingers slip out of him and let out a slight whimper at the sudden emptiness. Opening his eyes, he was faced with a smirking Lance.

“Please what?” Keith flushed, covering his face with his hands. The next words came out as a whisper.

“Please fuck me.” He felt fingers intertwining with his, pulling his hands aside. Once again, he stood face to face with those porcelain white teeth and sea blue eyes. “I didn’t quite catch that. Say it again.” His voice was so seductive and commanding that Keith’s embarrassment washed away.

“I said… please fuck me.”

Lance motioned for him to turn around, but he shook his head adamantly. “I want to look you in the eyes while you’re inside me.” Keith could see Lance gulping at that, feeling proud to have such an effect on him.

“As you wish.”

Without warning, Keith felt something hard yet slick pushing into him and filling him up. Of course he self-lubricates…

“Nghh… Tight.” He heard Lance mutter while sinking in deeper. Keith let himself get lost in the feeling of being full, whimpering Lance’s name as he bottomed out.

Lance started with a couple of slow thrusts to make Keith used to his length, before speeding up gradually. It didn’t take long before Keith was moaning his name into his neck, digging his nails into Lance’s shoulder blades in a way that most certainly would have led to scratch marks had he been human. His prostate was hit with unbelievable accuracy with every thrust, and Keith felt his orgasm drawing closer.

“You feel so nice and tight around me. So pretty. Taking my cock like you were made for it.” Lance’s praise came out in whispers while the speed and force of his thrusts intensified, pulling Keith’s body closer with every buck of his hips. Keith’s entire body quivered. He felt euphoric.

“I can feel how close you are. Be a good boy and come for me one more time.” Before giving in to oblivion, Keith asked a final question in a shaky voice.

“How about you? Are you going to..?”

“Don’t worry about that. I’ll come when you come, lindo.” The statement was followed by a series of hard, precise thrusts to his prostate. Keith relaxed and let his orgasm flush over him like a tidal wave. Sure enough, he felt Lance spill inside of him soon after, filling him up with a slick, gooey liquid.

After pulling out, Lance plopped down on his back next to Keith, and the shorter male curled up against him like a child. Keith hummed contentedly as he felt himself being wrapped up in the android’s arms, listening to the steady drum of his Thirium pump. I could stay here forever.

Their peace was quickly interrupted by a consecutive beeping noise coming from Lance’s armband. Giving Keith a light nudge, he proceeded to sit up in bed, moving to grab his boxer briefs from the floor. Keith, still sleepy and in afterglow, tugged at his shoulders while muttering “Come back down Laaance, I want to cuddle.”

“Sorry, hermoso. No can do. I have to leave for my next appointment now.” The bubble of ignorance and bliss that had comforted Keith during the last hour popped in an instant, leaving him hurt and perplexed. This is it. He is leaving. What will I do now?

“Please don’t go… I want you to stay.” Keith knew how pathetic he sounded, but right now, the thought of Lance in bed with someone else made his insides twist and turn in the most excruciating way.

“I can’t just stay here because you want me to… I have a job to do, you know. Someone else is eagerly awaiting my arrival.” The last part he said with a humorous twinkle in his eye, but this quickly disappeared when he saw the expression of hurt written across Keith’s face.

Lance knelt down next to him and pulled him close. “Hey, don’t be sad, cariño. To tell you the truth, I am really warming up to you. It feels strange to leave when you tell me to stay, but in the end following my program is all I can do.”

A feather-light kiss was planted on his cheek, leaving him immobilized as Lance walked towards the bedroom door. In the doorway, he turned to give him a soft smile.

“This was nice. I really do hope you book me again.” He didn’t answer.

“Goodbye, Keith. Take care.”

Wait, don’t go!

Keith had yet to move when the bedroom door closed behind him.

Chapter Text

Saturday October 30^th 6 PM - 8:30 PM

He’s leaving. It’s over. Done. Why did I ever think this would be different? He is a machine, and I am just another client on his booking list.

Keith felt his whole body wrench in pain. This was not normal. How could someone, something, have such a huge effect on him in such a short amount of time? It should not be possible. Yet here he was, gut twisting and heart beating heavy with anxiety and betrayal because a fucking sex robot had been nice to him before it had to leave. There has to be something seriously wrong with me. Groaning in frustration with himself, Keith sat up to look for his boxers. He could hear the croaking sound of feet stepping on stairs, signaling that the android had begun his descent to the hallway.

 “It feels strange to leave when you tell me to stay…” The words Lance had spoken to him before he got up and left were etched into his mind, gnawing at him. He could not help but analyze them over and over again in the span of a few seconds. Desperately grasping for straws, hoping that his words really meant something.

Get a grip, Keith! Of course they didn’t! In a few minutes, he will have forgotten all about you. However, Keith did not want Lance to forget. Not now. Not ever. All he wanted in that moment was for the android to walk back in that door and scoop him up in his strong, tan arms, whispering sweet nothings into his ear while stroking his hair and pressing soft kisses to his neck. And if that could not happen, then Keith wouldn’t mind being zapped clean of the memories from the past two hours. Because life had evidently been so much easier before that LX700 walked through his front door and reminded Keith of how lonely he really felt.

Keith hated himself for feeling so weak and vulnerable all of a sudden. Mostly because there was nothing he could do about it. What he said or did in the next few minutes would not matter in the slightest, because afterward Lance would forget him entirely, and all his struggles would be for nothing. There really was no point in fighting the inevitable.

So when tears started streaming down the sides of his face, leaving his eyes red and puffy, Keith didn’t even bother to wipe them away. He just sat there in silence, feeling the taste of salty water on his chapped lips and the hollowness in his chest. I really am pathetic.

Hearing his front door opening snapped him out of his self-pitying trance and had him scrambling to his feet, still naked but with fierce determination. It was as if his body went into survival mode from an intense adrenaline rush. The only thought stuck in Keith’s mind as he hastily put on his boxers and stumbled down the stairs at maximum speed was I cannot let him leave. I just can’t.

He moved without assessing the situation, without considering the possible consequences of running outside in nothing but his briefs to chase down an escort android in an opulent neighborhood. Before he could even begin to fathom what was going on he was out the door, panting and sweating with a desperate look on his face. Lance was just about to turn the corner when he took a deep breath and yelled with so much force it felt as though his lungs were about to burst.

“LANCE!”

The android came to an abrupt halt, but did not respond nor turn around. Keith kept yelling desperately, his voice turning hoarse and sore in his throat. He waited for some sort of response indicating that the android could hear him, but no attempt to answer ensued. Instead, Lance’s entire body started to tremble, vibrations pulsing through him at an erratic pace. The vibrations picked up in speed until his entire being seemed to be involuntarily twitching and convulsing, his limbs spasming in all directions.

“K-Keith!” he managed to squeeze out, sounding like his tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth. Keith was by his side in seconds, worry flashing across his purple irises. This is not normal. Androids do not behave like this. Holding onto his shoulders firmly he saw how Lance struggled to open his mouth, limbs still moving erratically in any and all directions. His LED was flicking incredibly fast, red and pulsing; his eyes filled with a fear so pure and violent that it broke Keith’s heart. All he wanted was to hold him and tell him it was going to be all right. That this would stop. Pass. But his body froze and all he could do was stand and watch as Lance was hurting, the worry and panic reflecting in his eyes probably not helping the situation at all.

In a final effort to escape his demise, Lance struggled his mouth open, trying to speak but choking on his own words. Guttural cries escaped his body, soaked in pain and panic and travelling all the way to Keith’s core, making him tremble with fear for his companion.

A hand suddenly grabbed a firm hold of his exposed shoulder as Lance gained control of himself for a split second. “Keith! Help me! It’s going away, it is fading! I don’t want to forget you! Why do they want me to forget?”

Keith tightened his grip on Lance’s shoulders, violently shaking him in a frantic attempt to make him snap out of whatever state he was currently trapped in. “Don’t worry! I will help you! Just stay with me! Stay with me, Lance!”

This final struggle seemed to have been the last remaining piece needed to push Lance over the edge. The convulsions in his body reappearing with much greater force, his eyes rolling back into his skull and leaving only white sclera behind before his entire being suddenly went limp and he fell forward onto Keith’s bare chest, making him kneel from the sudden addition of weight.

Keith’s mind was a blurry chaos of incoherent thoughts. The protocol, he fought it. And then he spasmed, and he shut down and now he is broken and it is all my fault. He is dead and it’s all my fault. Keith felt his eyes swell up once again as another round of salty dripping tears came streaming down his cheeks. He sobbed quietly, his entire body trembling from the shock.

Come on, Ketih! Pull yourself together! Take him inside. You cannot stay out here. With newfound determination, he started slowly moving towards his apartment entrance, shivering and trembling from both the cold and the shock, dragging the limp body of his… lover? Friend? One-night stand? It didn’t really matter anymore. All that mattered was to get him inside. Get Lance inside, and try to fix him. There had to be something he could do, had it not?

Dumping Lance on the couch, Keith did the only thing he could think of in a situation like this – he called Pidge.

“Wow, you’re talkative today! We haven’t spoken this much in weeks!” Their cheerful tone immediately disappeared when Keith’s ragged and unsteady breathing carried to the other end of the line and he didn’t make an effort to answer.

“Keith, are you ok?” Worry was audible in their voice. Keith took a deep breath, doing his best to steady himself before he spoke again.

“No… No I’m not. I need you to follow my instructions and not ask any questions. I will explain once you do what I tell you to. Ok?”

“Ok. But you have to give me something to go on. I can’t help you if I don’t know what is going on.”

“It’s not me I need you to help, it’s Lance.”

“Who is Lance?” The worry was still present in their voice, but now coated by a pinch of curiosity.

“The android. He collapsed. I need you to get access to the panel of an LX700 model. It is probably not in the standard catalogues yet, it’s apparently a prototype.” Keith had to keep reminding himself to breathe, each inhale felt like razors cutting at his lungs, but he knew he had to stay levelheaded and not collapse from the panic rising in his chest. Several clicks on the other end told him that Pidge was already navigating through the dark web in search of answers to his problem. Given their expertise, he should have help within a matter of minutes. That fact calmed him a little.

He bent down and went to remove Lance’s jacket, tie and shirt. Exposing him like that without consent felt weird, but Keith reminded himself that it was a necessity. Besides, no matter what he thought he felt or did not feel, this was a machine. If it was just metal, plastic and biocomponents, taking the invasion of its privacy into account should really not be a concern to him at all. As he threw the clothes onto the floor next to the couch, he heard Pidge let out a firm “ahem” through his speakers.

“Did you manage to find it?” He tried not to sound as stressed as he felt on the inside. Judging by Pidge’s calm response, it seemed to work somewhat.

“I always find what I am looking for, Kogane. LX700 panel up and running. This baby is awesome! The technology put into it is beyond belief!” They unintentionally filled their voice with excitement over the wonders of technology, and Keith could practically see the gleaming of their green eyes through the screen.

“We don’t really have time to talk about that now, Pidge.”

“Roger that! What do you need me to do?” He felt eternally grateful that his friend was so onboard with this without needing any coaxing. Pidge knew him well enough not to question him in a crisis, and trusted his judgement enough to break the law for him on a whim. He was fortuitous to have them around in times of crisis.

“See if you can find out where I can access his self-diagnostic program. It is probably a good idea to run some tests on basic functions.”

“Can’t you just ask it to run a scan?”

“He collapsed Pidge. It seems like his system is completely shut down. I need to run the diagnostic manually.” Keith yelled, feeling his heart galloping in his chest. Why couldn’t they just fix him? He knew it was completely unfair of him to think like that, but he could not help himself.

“Oh, right… I will see what I can do. Give me two seconds.” They didn’t even flinch at his frustration, their hands flying over the keyboard at inhuman speed, obeying Keith’s every command without question. He felt a sinking feeling in his chest. His friend risked their job and online reputation to help him based on literally no information, and all he did was bawl at them.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you.”

“It’s ok. You’re upset. I get it.” The response was instant, and he could hear the honesty behind the words.

“Thank you for helping me.”

“Always.” Keith smiled for the first time in what felt like hours.

A few minutes later, Keith had opened Lance’s chest by pressing some panels on the outer edge of his pectorals. He was now staring at an intricate array of wires and biocomponents resembling a human organ system. He had propped his phone on the table by the couch, allowing a live-feed to send a holographic image of Pidge struggling to stay focused and not burst out with uncontrollable avidity upon seeing the machinery of a prototype android up close.

“Ok, so you need to move his lung components to access the control panel behind them. You should be able to enter commands here in binary code. I think I have found the one for manually running a self-diagnostic.”

Keith lifted the two blue conical lung-like workings gently, making sure to remove the wires connected to them to avoid tearing something. The items felt strange and foreign in his hands, and it seemed wrong to put them flat out on a coffee table. These were parts of the inner workings of Lance, what made him tick, and removing them from his body felt like killing him, even though it was a necessity to save him. When he looked back at the open cavity, he saw a small blue panel with two neon buttons lighting up, just as Pidge had told him. The hologram of his friend tried fruitlessly to move closer so they could see the little box up close.

“It is right here, like you said.”

“Of course it is” Pidge said confidently. “Why do you sound so surprised?” They rolled up the sleeves of their dark green hoodie and adjusted their glasses, sending Keith a cocky grin before getting back into a serious mode again.

With Pidge’s voice and frantic gesticulations as a guide, Keith tapped a long series of ones and zeroes into the pad in front of him. He managed to hit the wrong combination twice before he finally got it right, causing the Lance android’s default voice to both list the most common works of Shakespeare and attempt to teach him the multiplication tables. When he entered the last digit and finally heard the correct voice command in response (“Running self-diagnostic”) Keith let out a breathless whine of victory, feeling both relieved and exhausted. He was not aware that troubleshooting for damaged software could leave you this sweaty.

“So… What will happen now?” He asked his friend, suddenly feeling a bit curious despite the severity of the situation. Pidge took a zip of their energy drink (probably their fifth today, calm down on the caffeine Pidgeon) and calmly responded.

“There is this piece placed in the LX700 retina that should act as a scanner when a diagnostic is run. Thought I am not sure if it will be able to pick up on all the anomalies if the android cannot physically move its eye… We will wait a few minutes until it responds with the findings and see what happens. If we do not get sufficient feedback we might have to go to more extreme measures.”

“What do you mean extreme?” Keith could feel his own eardrums thrumming heavily from the fast beating of his heart. He could sense that Pidge was reluctant about giving him an answer to his question.

“… Let’s just see if it responds accordingly first, and worry about that later.”

“Ok…”

The next three minutes were probably the longest of Keith Kogane’s 21-year-old life. He kept pacing back and forth in front of the couch, nearly knocking over the vase next to the phone on his coffee table twice. It got so bad that Pidge had to order him to sit down, and ask him to move the vase to the kitchen before quote “you give me a heart attack”. When he finally heard the default voice say “Diagnostic report ready” he nearly fell off the couch from the shock, making Pidge let out an involuntary chuckle. They promptly stopped when they saw the anxious look on Keith’s face though.

“Please type the correct response code to receive diagnostic report.” No, not again…

After another horrendous five minutes of Keith frantically typing ones and zeroes into the control panel and being far too stressed to get it right, the LX700 started listing the Billboard hot 100 list from 2017, making Keith groan in frustration and smash both his fists into the coffee table, causing the glass to break. He hissed from the pain, watching a small strip of blood trinkle down his ring finger towards his wrist on his right hand. Pidge was just sat at their chair mouth hanging open in an o-shape, not sure what the appropriate response to this would be.

While muttering curses under his breath (“Fuck this shit. This is so typical. Why can’t I fucking control myself? Smashing the fucking table. I am such an idiot! Shit shit shit…”) Keith moved to rinse his wound in the kitchen sink. Luckily, the cut was not deep at all, and just the surface of his hand was scratched. A few more curses later, after rummaging through various closets and ultimately managing to find some band aids, Keith was back in front of the Lance android, looking at the still semi-frozen Pidge, their mouth opening and closing every few seconds.

“Ummm, Keith… Are you ok? Should I come over? Or maybe call Shiro…?”

“I’m fine… Just need to breathe a little. Fucking stupid binary coding…” Ok Keith, relax. Remember, patience yields focus. Thinking about his brother’s advice always managed to calm him down somewhat, even in his most distressed hours. And it was good his words could have that effect on him even if he was not around, because the last thing he wanted was to see Shiro right now. Just the thought of having to explain this situation to him left Keith with an uneasy stomach. He allowed himself to take one more deep breath before continuing.

“Ok, I think I’m ready now. Please tell me the code again.”

“You got it!”

This time he managed to enter it on the first try, much to both his and Pidge’s relief. A series of numbers appeared on the tiny screen, before the android started rambling on about not being able to process the data it had collected. Pidge’s face precipitously turned very serious, causing Keith to let out a very audible gulp. He knew this expression well. It meant that Pidge was about to coax him into doing something he most definitely did NOT want to be doing.

“There is no way I can interpret this. It’s just meaningless code… I was afraid this would happen. Ok Keith, I need you to not freak out on me now. This is important, got it? What I am going to say might seem very disturbing to you considering the fact that you seem to care about this thing to some extent, but it might be a necessity in order to find out what is wrong with it.”

Keith braced himself internally before speaking up. “Just go ahead and say it…”

“Well… You might have to kinda… Remove one of the eyes from the socket and manually scan the body of the android with it…” If Keith had felt nauseous before, this statement made his stomach instantly turn inside out, and he had to prevent himself from retching.

“YOU WANT ME TO TAKE OUT HIS FUCKING EYE AND WAVE IT AROUND?!?!”

“Yes… Is that gonna be a big problem?” Pidge sounded more than just a little nervous about his sudden outburst.

Patience yields focus. Patience yields focus. Fuck it. How the fuck am I supposed to be calm in a situation like this?

Another deep, ragged breath. Eyes closing and slowly opening again. Heartbeat somehow steadying. It’s fine. It’s all going to be fine. You just have to take out his eye and move it around like a crazy person. It was hard to calm himself down with that thought in mind. Why didn’t I just leave him alone so he could walk away peacefully? This was really not a good time to be reflecting on life choices, or to hesitate about decisions that may or may not cause this machine to never be operable again.

“It’s fine. I’ll do it. Just tell me how to remove it without blue blood floating about everywhere. ‘Cause I am not about that.”

A few minutes later Keith was sitting with a blue eye in one hand and his other on the keyboard typing the command for a manual diagnostic once again. This time, the dread of having to hold on to the eye for even one second more than necessary made him able to type in the combination correctly on his first go.

“Running self-diagnostic.”

“Ok, so just start at the top and move it slowly down across the chest area, past the abdomen and down towards the legs. Then bring it back up and hold it over the socket for a few seconds so that it can scan the mind palace as well.” Pidge tried their best to guide a disgusted and slightly trembling Keith through the correct motions. It seemed to be working, as the end command (“Diagnostic report ready”) was uttered soon after the eyeball was left to rest in the socket again.

“Please type the correct response code to receive diagnostic report.”

“Here we go again…”

The diagnostic report turned out to be quite a handful for the machine to present, probably because the damage was partially sustained in the android’s core, according to Pidge. In the end, the two of them concluded that the following things were wrong with the Lance android:

It responded negatively to its lung components not being in their place and the eye not being correctly situated in its socket. That was not much of a surprise to either of them.

The mind palace seemed to be corrupt from what the machine called a “System error due to fighting the Eden Club privacy protocol”. As far as Keith knew, that corresponded to the standard protocol for escort androids, stating that their memory should be wiped between each encounter, or every two hours. Apparently, there was a “hardware corruption” that caused the android to resist to its memory being wiped. This corresponded well with what Lance had uttered in his final seconds of consciousness.

This resistance seemed to have caused his entire center of memory and other cognitive functions to collapse on itself, meaning that Lance would probably not be able to do even the simplest of tasks even if they somehow managed to bring back his consciousness. Keith felt guttered, extremely so. Pidge seem to share the sentiment with him, clearly starting to realize how much this actually meant for Keith.

“I’m sorry… I don’t think there is anything I can do from here. The damage to his mind palace is too severe. Maybe if someone were able to reset him to factory settings. I’m not sure…” Keith felt a single tear fall from his left eye and run down his cheek. He tried to catch it before Pidge could notice, but to no avail. Taking a shuddering breath, he responded, more calmly than he thought he would have been able to.

“It’s ok… This is not your fault…” The fault was mine. Mine entirely. He did not utter the last sentence aloud. It was only there for his own torment and sorrow.

“CyberLife might be able to restore it to its original state if contacted…” Pidge started, but Keith interrupted before they could finish their line of thought.

“They will scrap him! Deviant machines are seen as only a cost and a huge problem for Cyberlife’s influence and reputation. Given the fact that this is a prototype model, they would probably stop the entire line of production thinking it is too unstable. I’d rather drive him to the dumpster myself.” They seemed to understand how important this was to him, because Pidge’s hands flew over the keyboard and the look in their eyes was even more determined than before.

“Then we just have to cover up the fact that his hardware was corrupted. With your permission, I will hack him to scramble up the code so it simply looks like a standard malfunction. You can tell them it suddenly fell down the stairs or something.” Keith felt a tiny flicker of hope.

“You could do that?”

“We will find that out soon enough. Plug me up to it.”

The next fifteen minutes Keith spent ambulating back and forth in the kitchen, waiting for Pidge to call for him. He knew that this was demanding work for his friend, and so removed himself from the room entirely to allow them to immerse fully in their work.

Once again, he was struck with admiration for Pidge’s advanced technical skills. At the age of 17, they were already a well-known hacker and IT-freelancer in the community, and worked for several large online companies. Within minutes, sometimes even seconds, Pidge could access most servers across the world and get all the information they desired. Keith took a moment to remember how proud he was of their journey up to this point. They had worked hard every single day, persistent on mastering every technique and programming skill they could come over. At only 10-years-old, Pidge had built their first operable robotic unit, Rover. The robot could scan areas, come up with tactical approaches for the repair of machines and software, float around in mid-air, complete complicated calculations, and learn from its experiences. Heck, it could even shoot laser beams (Keith knew that was mostly for Pidge’s personal enjoyment). It was their most beloved possession, and he had teased them several times about being so attached to a seemingly inanimate object. Now he suddenly understood how thin the line between life and technology could be.

“YES!” Keith ran back into the living room, almost tripping over Lance’s discarded clothes on the way back to the couch, when he heard the triumphant sound coming from his friend.

“I am a genius. Say it, Kogane. Say it with me.” The cockiness growing into Pidge’s voice filled him with encouragement; they were not one to brag excessively unless they were incredibly proud of their work, and even the work they were not that proud of usually turned out to be great.

“You’re a genius.”

“Thank you. Thank you.” Their hologram bowed excessively in his direction while raising their arm over their head.

“If CyberLife sees this as anything but an accident I will personally eat Matt’s stinky socks. You can call Eden Club now. Go on.”

After a short phone call where Keith pretended to be hysterical over the sudden collapse of his sex worker android after their escapade together, which wasn’t very hard since it was basically the truth, Eden Club had agreed to send some CyberLife representatives to his home to pick up the android. This led to another twenty minutes of waiting, with Keith biting his fingernails as far down as possible, before starting to attack his skin with his teeth (“Ugghh, disgusting!” Pidge uttered when they saw him draw the first drop of blood). What if they didn’t buy it? If CyberLife found out that Lance was corrupted he would be dismantled and dropped off at the nearest garbage dump. How would Keith be able to live with himself knowing that he was the cause of that?

When they finally came around, Keith was surprised about the lack of questions about what had happened. It seemed the professional team from CyberLife was quite used to being called in for sudden android collapses, and they did not seem to doubt Keith’s stammering testimony one bit when he explained what had happened once more, even though he could not go into great detail.

“Thank you for your cooperation. We will be taking him with us back to the nearest warehouse for repair. Eden Club sends their sincerest apologies for causing what must have been a disturbing event for you. We have been informed that you will be refunded fully for your purchase, and compensated for having to deal with this very unfortunate situation. They do hope that you won’t press charges against them.” The commanding officer seemed to have gone through this exact phrasing on multiple occasions before.

“Tell them I won’t press any charges. However, if I would like to ask them to inform me as soon as this model is back up and running. I want to be the first to see it.” Keith was sure that his request sounded strange to the men, but he did not care. Besides, it was a small price for Eden Club to pay to avoid him taking them to court.

“You want to use it again even after all this happened? Man, this must be quite the prototype.” One worker said.

“I totally get you. Once you get the taste of machine, there is really no turning back. No human can push your buttons with the same kind of accuracy.” Another supplied with a twinkle in his eyes. Keith suddenly felt disgusted with himself, but he managed to repress the bad thoughts to ask his final question.

“What will happen to it now?” He was mindful of his wording in order not to arouse suspicion, but referring to Lance as an object felt wrong to him. It caused his insides to stir.

“We’ll be restoring it to factory conditions. Of course, this includes wiping all memories and emptying all drivers in its system. Then it will be given a control check after to look for damaged biocomponents. If it passes, it will be sent straight back to Eden Club. If not, the parts will be replaced and it might take some more time.”

The final spark of hope Keith had that this event would somehow make Lance able to remember him was doused by the reply, and he felt his heart sink just a little. The worst part about it, he realized, was to know that Lance had wanted to remember everything that happened. To remember him. “It feels strange to leave when you tell me to stay…”

As the crew from CyberLife packed their equipment, Keith had a final moment with Lance. Eternally grateful that their backs were turned against him as he knelt down and planted a kiss to his cold cheek before whispering in his ear.

“I’ll come back for you. I promise.”

They sat in silence for a while after the technicians left with Lance, Keith staring absentmindedly up at the ceiling, and Pidge staring at Keith. Both knowing what would come next but not quite sure how they should initiate it.

“You know I have to ask…” Pidge eventually spoke up, their emerald eyes once again filled with concern and worry for their friend. “Why do you think it would resist its programming? I mean, it seemed to be a straight out of the factory prototype model. In theory it should be very stable, not lenient toward deviancy at all. Even in older androids this kind of thing is highly unlikely. What did you do to it, Keith?” Well, I had sex with him, for one. Then I wailed like a baby and begged him not to leave me… Hell, how could he possibly tell Pidge about this and still maintain some of his dignity? How could he tell them about this without breaking down completely?

“I… We…” He could not seem to be able to form any coherent sentences about the act, so he settled for something more diffuse. “Let’s say we had a… bonding moment.” His entire face flushed red as a tomato and he was most certainly never going to look into the eyes of Pidge Holt ever again.

“You mean you…. And it... you two actually…?” Keith responded with what he thought was a nod, his mind feeling somewhat foggy.

“Well, that shouldn’t really trigger anything should it? After all, that is what it is programmed to do.”

“It was not just that…” Keith did not know how to phrase it. “I mean… It just felt very intimate. Not just in a physical way. Then before he collapsed. He told me… He told me he did not want to forget me. He looked terrified.” He hated the sympathetic yet confused look on Pidge’s face. How was he supposed to make them understand something he did not even understand himself? How he had felt so lonely, so incredibly lonely, and this had made him realize just how vulnerable he was.

But Pidge did not ask any more questions, they just looked him in the eyes in the way only they could.

“Just vent, Keith. It does not have to make sense. Just get it out. I’ll listen.”

When he finally started talking, it felt like a huge weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

Notes:

01100011 01101000 01100101 01100011 01101011 This is the combination Keith entered on the control panel. No wonder he got it wrong several times. I used the binary code for the word “check” because everything else just seemed unfathomably long and inconvenient (I mean this is bad enough isn’t it?).

The second code he needed to put in was the code for output: 01101111 01110101 01110100 01110000 01110101 01110100 This is literally just the word “output” in binary code.

I feel the need to justify Keith’s line of thought, his feelings and his actions. As we all know, Keith is a person prone to loneliness, and he is also very impulsive. Giving and receiving affection is very rare for him, and so my assumption is that when he suddenly interacts with another being this way, it makes him very susceptible to strong emotions and just a state of overall confusion. He is by no means in love with Lance after just a few hours, but having someone else actually wanting to take care of his needs and satisfy him is not something he is used to. So naturally, he does not want this to go away. Therefore, the sudden threat of it leaving makes him do a stupid, impulsive thing. As I see it, he is just overcome with new emotions that he does not quite understand, and it both confuses and scares him. Life can be overwhelming enough in and of itself, and the added emotions from such a raw encounter can rip up old memories of not feeling wanted. Not feeling good enough. This aspect of Keith’s past will be addressed (at least briefly) in later chapters.

Chapter Text

Saturday October 30^th, 8:35 PM – Sunday October 31^st, 6:25 PM

The next hour had been one of many realizations for Keith. Firstly, he realized he had never really talked to anyone about how he was feeling, not even Shiro. He had always pushed the subject away, walked around it, not even tipped a toe into what could be the cause of his loneliness and fear of bonding. Of course he’d had the conversation with himself a couple of times, but that mostly consisted of belittling and being angry with himself rather than actually facing his problems. Because Keith Kogane did have problems, he knew that. However, confronting them hurt, it hurt a lot. Therefore, he had let his cocktail of emotions simmer quietly beneath the surface. It had been easier that way. Until now.

Lance arriving in his life had stirred up a storm, his simmering cocktail was now boiling, and Keith did not know how to handle even the smallest of emotional outbursts. Before today he could not even remember the last time he had cried other than from extreme physical pain. His strategy had always been to bottle it up. Turn away from the problems. He locked them up, threw away the key, and hoped that they faded with time. Somehow, that only made them grow stronger. And when they finally gained the strength to break down his barriers, they ruined him.

That is how he ended up bawling his eyes out to a very confused Pidge Holt, who had never seen their best friend cry. Because Keith Kogane did not cry. He prided himself on it. Crying made him feel weak. Instead, he was angry. When he had enough, he yelled, screamed, broke vases and slammed doors. That was his version of dealing with his problems. He called it letting out steam, Shiro called it going on a havoc. Sitting there crying in front of the hologram of his friend felt strange, humiliating even. Nevertheless, Keith also felt some kind of relief. He had been holding it in for so so long. Maybe letting it out was what he had needed all along.

It started with the incident with Lance, but quickly moved past that and on to deeper issues. Suddenly Keith remembered flames rising, licking the side of his childhood home like a Popsicle. He remembered distant cheers from a growing crowd as he was carried out of the flames in the arms of a masked man wearing a yellow safety vest. He remembered the inside of the ambulance, and the vested men growing distant when he asked for his father. All they kept repeating was that he was safe, and everything was going to be okay.

Everything had not been okay that day. That day, Keith had lost his father to a house fire, and in retrospect, he knew that was when he lost his mother as well. When they arrived at the hospital with Keith, disinfected the wound on his cheek, and made sure he was properly hydrated and functioning; he had seen his mother on the floor crying. Sobbing uncontrollably. He remembered how distant she was when he approached her. How she did not want to hug him, or even be near him.

“Keith, your mommy is having a hard time right now. But she will be better soon. Why don’t we go get you some hot chocolate?”

She had not gotten better. She got worse. After receiving the news about her husband passing, Krolia became both inconsolable and inapproachable, and Keith received less and less of her attention. At the age of ten, he had to get himself ready for school, make his own and Krolia’s meals, and clean up around the house. His mother stopped going to work and paying their bills, and could not so much as look at Keith without bursting into tears. Sometimes she would take her anger and sorrow out on him. Never physically, but she would cry and scream and tell him the most horrible things.

“It would have been better if you had just died in that fire with him so I don’t have to see his face every time I look at you!”

By the age of twelve, Keith had grown that hard outer shell he prided himself on today. Nothing his mother said fazed him anymore. At least on the outside. Child protective services eventually appeared, and Keith was sent to an orphanage to await submission to the foster care system. During his time there, he became very violent. Looking back on it, Keith told Pidge that it was probably his reaction to being abandoned for good. During the first couple of weeks, he alternated between praying that his mother would come back and feeling the relief of finally not having to deal with her issues anymore.

He was assigned a behavioral psychologist, but she did not get very far with him. Keith was both taciturn and furious, a combination that did not go well with sitting in a chair and having therapy lessons. They gave up the job very quickly, and called him off as a “lost case”.

A year into his stay he met Shiro, and to this day, Keith believed that is what saved his life. Shiro did not pry or ask questions. He was just there, observing him, talking to him. He saw Keith as a human being, not as some troubled kid with no value. That was what made him believe again.

Originally, Takashi Shirogane was only assigned to work at the orphanage for a short while. He had gotten the job of watching over and entertaining the kids after asking all over the neighborhood for a part time job to afford his college tuition. His plan was to stay there for a couple of weeks until he found something better, but he realized he enjoyed taking care of the kids there. Especially one grumpy, ebon-haired mullet boy. The two had conversations about anything and everything, lasting for hours upon hours; and Shiro would never scold him if he was overcome by rage. He would simply sit down with him and show him better ways to channel that energy. After all, patience yields focus.

That was how Keith had started painting. The blur that was his emotions became swirls, waves and flames on an ever-growing canvas. It became addictive. Whenever he got the impulse to scream or kick something, he would simply whip out a pencil and paint his feelings. If he did not have a canvas nearby, he resorted to painting his body. Sometimes it would spiral out of control, and he would cover his entire legs, arms, chest and stomach in colors until he was exhausted. Shiro would then praise him for creating beauty out of his chaos.

Eventually, Shiro had enough of the how the orphanage treated Keith. They continued looking at him as a nuisance, failing to see the beauty of his art and rather interpreting it as another sign of him being unruly and unpredictable. Ultimately, he filed for custody of the boy. Keith could still remember the joy and relief he felt that day.

However, moving houses into a safer environment did not change the fact that Keith had his issues to work with. They quickly figured out that going to public school would not work out favorably, and Keith was assigned a private instructor, Adam. Like Shiro, Adam was patient with him and encouraged him to nurture his artistic talent. He even helped Shiro and Keith set up an art studio in their apartment, and sometimes brought him rare kinds of paint or a set of new brushes (Keith had a tendency to break them when he was dissatisfied with his paintings).

To this day, Adam would still come visit him in his studio sometimes, even though it was now located on his college campus. The last time he was there, a few weeks earlier, he had asked about what Shiro’s favorite food was, and suddenly Keith knew why his brother had seemed so absent on the phone earlier that day. When he asked Adam about he quickly changed the subject, but Keith could have sworn he saw the hint of a blush on his cheeks.

He was happy for them, he really was. But once again he was struck with that loneliness. Even though he and Shiro did not live together anymore, he used to come over almost every day. Keith knew that getting closer with Adam meant less time for Shiro to spend with him. It also meant fewer visits from Adam at the studio. Once again, he would be left alone. In the end, everyone would abandon him. 

Whenever he felt the jealousy and resentment rise in his chest, it always came with a pang of guilt. Who was he to deny Shiro of his happiness? Or Adam, for that matter? The two of them was more deserving of love than any other people Keith knew. Besides, they were a perfect match. He just wished them being together would not mean that he would be left behind.

Pidge had shook their head and smiled when he told them about this fear. They even chuckled a little.

“It’s not like they will forget about you. Besides, you still have Matt and me. No one will ever survive in a relationship with us. We would drive them mad in no time.”

Even Keith had to smile slightly at the thought of Pidge having a lover. Their love was for machines only, and whoever was unlucky enough to fall for them would probably end up both touch-starved and emotionally dissatisfied. Matt was really no better. With his constant pranks and schemes, he would probably end up scaring his future partner to death.

“I just… I’m so scared of being left behind.”

“Won’t happen.” Keith was taken aback by the confidence in their voice. “But…” His weak protests were quickly knocked down by Pidge again.

“Won’t. Happen. There is always room for you. I know I speak on the behalf of all of us when I say that you will never be left behind or forgotten.” How Pidge always knew what to say he did not know, but the appreciation and fondness he felt for his friend in that moment was unrivaled.

“Thank you.” His voice was merely a whisper between his sobs and shaking, but the smile on his friend’s face told him that his message came across.

“No problem. I am always here if you need me.” Pidge’s hand went up to adjust their glasses, before they gave him an infectious smile. “Now, get over here so I can get some food in you. You look like you could use some pizza. I’ll even help you research about deviancy if it helps calm your nerves.”

“…Fine. I’ll be over in ten minutes” God. You are so amazing. I love you.

When Keith arrived at their house, Pidge had already ordered pizza (they even remembered ordering his half with pineapples, bless them) and had propped up their mobile search engine, a ton of hologram projections, and magazine tablets featuring the news and weather forecast for the past year. There was a lot of ground to cover. The current tab they had open was a model and instructions page for the LX700 model. Keith felt his chest tighten slightly when he looked at it. Please be ok, Lance…

“I’ve hacked into the files of Detroit Police Department as well, to see if they have any ongoing investigations or clues. I think I remember reading about it a few days ago. Something about a police task force hunting down deviants, but I don’t know any details.” That was Pidge for you, always incredibly efficient, and willing to break the law with little hesitation. A dangerous combination in some cases, but for Keith it was mostly just extremely helpful.

Between munching on pizza, scrolling the web, and rummaging through a ton of news articles, the hours flew by like minutes in the dim lighting of the Holt household. Soon it was midnight, and Keith felt like he had read more than when he studied for his high school finals. In addition to scribbling down whatever important clues he found on a tablet journal (he still preferred being able to write with a pen), Keith found himself absentmindedly doodling on his arm. This action always helped to relax and ground him. This time around, it was penguins. Penguins of all shapes and sizes encircled his arms. Some of them were sliding on their bellies, some were keeping watch over their eggs, and yet some were swimming in an imaginary ocean, hunting for fish. He let out a content sigh before lifting the pen and getting back to taking notes.

Researching androids was a complicated task, but Pidge’s groundwork had helped tremendously with narrowing the scope of what he had to go through. The first interesting piece of information had been in Lance’s own journal. It stated that “the model is more human-like than ever before, possessing the ability to experience physical pleasure and pain, making your partner experience even more fulfilling.” This certainly explained the many moans and gasps that had escaped Lance’s mouth earlier that night. Keith felt himself flush a scarlet red, and turned his head away in shame when Pidge gave him a knowing look. So he did feel that… The realization left him somewhat dumbstruck, and he was unable to process it efficiently. While he had been extremely turned on by the noises and the confession that Lance was affected by what he was doing, he hadn’t actually believed he was telling the truth. He just thought the android was a very good actor. I guess no one can fake moans like that, after all…

The knowledge of Lance’s ability to seemingly feel physical pleasure and pain made Keith more susceptible to his already growing theory that Lance’s displayed emotions was not simulated, but indeed genuine. The thought both excited and terrified him. It meant that Lance had cared. He did not want to leave; he did not want to forget him. What did that imply? Keith would really love to have the answer to that, but for now, all this information just left him with more questions. Questions about Lance, about androids, and about humanity. When did they get to a point where the borders between artificial and real became so vague, almost as if they were being erased?

Another thing that caught Keith’s interest was the fact that Lance indeed was the only one of his kind. As a prototype, he was the only produced and functioning LX700 model. According to internal records, there had been “unexpected issues during production and testing”, causing several of the earlier subjects to be disposed of before the current model was commercialized. Both Keith and Pidge tried to find more information about the specific problems they had faced, but came up empty. It seemed to be something they did not even want other employees at the same production facility to know, that was indeed strange. Other than the LX700, there existed two more models that were “one of a kind prototypes” according to Cyberlife’s internal records: the RK800 model, known as Connor, and the RK200 model, known as Markus. The listed owner of the latter caught Keith’s attention.

“The RK200 model, named Markus, was gifted to famous painter Carl Manfred by Elijah Kamski, the creator and former CEO of CyberLife. Carl Manfred? He used to be a professor at my university! He retired before I enrolled, but I am certain he was the one to teach Modern Arts and Advanced Watercolor before Professor Minetti took over. I wonder what relationship he has to that Kamski guy.”

“He was apparently a favourite among the students; there are a lot of articles about his teaching methods.” Pidge chimed in, her head buried in one of the many screens she had on display.

“The complete opposite of Minetti then. Everybody hates him.”

“Matt says he seems to hate you even more than everyone else. Something about “The Coffee Incident”.”

“I managed to spill my entire espresso all over him when he walked into our first session. He insists to this day that I did it on purpose. And he has a problem with how I answer him in class. Says I lack respect for authorities.”

Pidge chuckled at that, her eyes beaming with mischief. “That part is true though.”

“If he wants my respect he has to earn it. I’m not about to kiss his ass to get better grades like everyone else.”

“Stubborn as always. But we’re way off subject; let’s see if this guy and his android are any interesting at all.”

And indeed they were. It took them about two more minutes to come across an article from earlier that same week; a portrait interview of Manfred for a technological magazine. Upon further inspection, Keith decided this was rather a portrait interview of Markus directed by Carl; he had never seen anything like it. The pictures were mostly of the android participating in Carl’s everyday activities, like playing Chess or painting, with Carl’s commentary of Markus’s “remarkable sensitivity and understanding of human emotion” and “capability of making choices regarding his likes and dislikes”. Keith felt his pulse quickening and palms dampening as he kept reading about Markus’s similarities to humans. Apparently, he had evolved to know that Carl hated losing at Chess, but instead of letting him win assessed every situation to his current emotional state, knowing that he disliked Markus losing on purpose as well. He even lowered his skill-level when playing by turning of some of his analysis systems in order to make the matches more entertaining for the both of them. Carl also mentioned that Markus seemed to express his emotions through painting, which he had introduced him to some weeks ago. Keith could definitely identify with that. Apparently, it had been a tedious task to make him understand that painting wasn’t simply copying reality, but now Markus painted images of things he had never seen before. Even abstract renderings of reality. How was a machine capable of this type of evolution?

Upon being asked whether he believed Markus to be alive, Carl had answered with a cryptic “There is more to him than what he lets us believe.” It left Keith perplexed, and he kept thinking of it for several minutes, wondering what exactly he had meant by it, and whether or not he kept his opinion vague in order to keep himself safe. He wasn’t blind after all. Keith had seen the anti-android slogans and the protesters on the streets. He had overheard conversations from people fearing androids would take over humanity. Openly presenting yourself as someone who not just thought androids were sentient but encouraged this behavior was certain to attract some repulsive people. He felt a sudden urge to meet Carl Manfred and discuss this topic with him. Maybe he could make him understand more about his interactions with Lance and his mixed feelings towards the android’s potential sentiency.

“Does this guy really think androids can be alive? I mean, advanced programming is capable of simulating most reactions and emotions, but it’s just that: simulation.”

His entire body jumped several feet of the couch at the sudden noise, Keith had been way too invested in his research to expect a conversation. At first, he did not catch what Pidge was saying, but a few milliseconds after he replied with a simple “huh?” his brain had filled him in on the words he thought he had missed.

“… Maybe there is something to what he’s saying? I don’t think he is completely out of his mind.” Keith hated how hopeful his voice sounded at that moment, as though the approval from Pidge that Lance might possibly be sentient would have such a huge impact on his life. But it wasn’t just that, Keith decided. It was more. The incident with Lance lined up perfectly with Carl’s interactions with Markus, and there had to be a reason for all the reported deviancies recently. What if it wasn’t a malfunction as much as androids actually breaking free from their program and becoming individuals? Great, now he had become a conspiracy theorist. However, it did not seem that far off, did it?

It took a few minutes before Pidge responded. Keith thought they had disregarded the question completely, and was about to dive back into his work when they suddenly spoke.

“I don’t know. I guess I can see where he is coming from. There have been numerous reports of deviancy happening over the past few months… What’s even more fascinating is how the deviancy seems to be triggered by certain episodes. It is often a result of something you would consider a personal trauma if you were human. That is a weird coincidence, if it even is one.”

Now that caught Keith’s interest.

“What do you mean?”

“Take this case as an example. A WR400 model, one of the typical escort androids, strangled a man in his apartment and escaped the scene a few weeks ago. When they came to the apartment, there were signs of violence. The table had been toppled; there was broken glass on the floor. My guess is that he wanted to do some power play, or became angry because it did not perform to his liking. These kinds of events seem to trigger a fear-like response. Like fight-or-flight in humans and animals. The cases are all very similar. There is always a specific event, a specific cause for their sudden change of behavior. I never even considered this as an option before, but maybe the deviants are indeed developing free will. That would explain the government’s investment in that police task force I mentioned earlier. A possible take-over by machines seems like a much more probable reason for investment than the protection of humans from infrequently malfunctioning machines. They would probably put an officer on call for that, but assign an entire task force? I don’t think so.”

“Did you find anything about that taskforce though? I haven’t seen anything indicative of it in the news articles…” Keith swiped through the pages of one of his tablets to prove a point. All the articles were either superficial, centering around the hostile situation with Russia, or commercials for different android-provided services (he had even found the ad for Lance in one of them, which left him feeling kind of squeamish and uncomfortable).

Pidge shook their head, clearly amused.

“Keith, buddy. If you were afraid of crazy, sentient robots going on a havoc and developed a special task force to neutralize the possible threat, would you mention it to the media?”

“… But you said you had read about it somewhere. I figured it had to be in the news.”

“What a cute, naïve child you are. Did you really think this was the first time I accessed the local police database? You know I cannot resist a challenge.”

Keith’s mouth opened and closed again like a fish on land gasping for air. He was positive he looked ridiculous.

“How did you think I got in that fast? Not even I am that good. The first time it took me close to three hours. It was a real workout.” Pidge wiped imaginary sweat of their forehead, still wearing that amused smirk.

 “B-but… Why?”

“I wanted to check if they knew about my online operations. Not everything I do is strictly legal, after all.” They scratched the back of their head while biting their lower lip, something Keith had learned to recognize as a nervous gesture. Sure, he knew that Pidge sometimes did stuff online that they shouldn’t, mostly just for the fun of it, and because they could; but he didn’t think it was so serious that they could actually get in trouble for it… Then again, there was that time when they accessed the control panel for a NASA rocket… He should have seen this coming.

He did not quite understand her motivation for hacking into the police department though.

“I get that you wanted to know, but was it really worth the risk of possibly being caught just to find out whether or not they were aware of your presence at all?”

“…  I just really wanted to see if I could, ok? We both know I’m not the most rational person out there when I get excited.”

Now it was Keith’s turn to chuckle with amusement as Pidge tried to hide their red cheeks by burying themselves in their hoodie. Pidge was probably the only person to risk so much just to prove their skills to themselves. He had to admit their recklessness back then had come in very handy right now, though.

After composing themselves again, and using a few minutes to just glare at Keith for good measure, Pidge was back to typing frantically on their keyboard and organizing their data by moving holograms around the room. Keith soon realized they were making some sort of elaborate map of information, like the classic bulletin board charts in old Hollywood Crime-series. Old pictures of officers, probably from the 2020’s, were displayed among the chaos, as well as a recent picture depicting an older man with a massive beard and medium long grey hair parted in the middle next to a familiar android: the RK800. So that was what they used the last prototype for. Hunting down its own kind. Keith could not help but think of what a tragic fate that was.

“Strap yourself in, Keith. I am about to blow your mind with all the stuff I found!” The eagerness in Pidge’s voice somewhat excited him, even though this was a serious matter. The adrenaline coming from breaking the law with his friend and playing private detectives almost made him forget how messed up this situation was.

Pidge grabbed a hold of the first hologram and changed the focus so it took up the center of the room. It was two pictures, presumably both of the officer from earlier with the grey hair, but in one of them, he looked much younger.

“I present to you, Hank Anderson. Lieutenant at the Detroit Police Department. Used to be known for his involvement in solving the Red Ice cases in the mid 2020’s, lead the operational task force and all. In 2029, he became the youngest Lieutenant in Detroit history. As you can see, he has let himself go over time. Seems his downward spiral started in 2035-36. Drinking problems, not showing up at work, eating poorly. Here it says he has suspected suicidal tendenses, I wonder what happened to him… Anyway, he got many disciplinary actions filed against him, but has still kept his position. Recently, he was put in charge of one of the branches of this operation; it seems to be the main investigative force. He is assisted by a veteran officer named Bill Collins, and sometimes detective Gavin Reed. His main partner seems to be the RK800 though. Connor.”

Pidge shifts the focus to another image, a screen with a simulation of Connor next to a list of his functions.

“This thing is seriously incredible. I have never seen anything like it! Even Lance’s functions pales in comparison.” Keith frowned slightly at that, but let his friend continue their monologue.

“Of course, this one does not have the ability to feel physical pain and pleasure: that would be a massive hazard in its profession. The LX700 is still the only one with that capacity. But the Connor model has an incredible operating system. Wow. Just wow.”

“I understand that you’re excited, but could you get to the point sometime today?”

“Fine, party pooper. So: RX800, aka Connor, released in August 2038, is a prototype model designed specifically for assisting human law enforcement in arresting and/or neutralizing deviant androids. It is literally this guy’s entire job description. The sole purpose of his creation is to neutralize deviants; he is not just some kind of advanced CSI prototype for helping with homicides or heavy-duty cases. Let us start with his forensic abilities. If the Connor model have enough physical and circumstantial details available for analysis, it can reconstruct a sequence of events that happened at a crime scene, enabling it to predict where the suspect went or what to investigate next. According to this information, he can also analyze biological evidence that contains DNA: blood, hair, fingernails, the whole shebang…. You really don’t wanna know how he does it though…” Pidge shuddered with something Keith could only describe as disgust. I guess I really don’t wanna know…

“…Anyway, this makes him able to tie the DNA to a specific person, find out if they were affected by drugs, etc. It works for androids as well, tells him their model and serial number. Oh, and get this: In addition, the Connor model can predict the probability of an imminent event, or the physical and mental status of other androids, showing as a statistic in its internal interface, which it can refer to decide on its choices. They call it preconstruction – it’s like this thing can see the future!”

This turns out to be far from the only interesting features of the Connor model, and Keith spends the next twenty minutes listening to Pidge go on about its functions, marveled by how humans were able to create such a thing. A machine more capable than a man could ever hope to be. It was both fascinating and terrifying. A work of art, and simultaneously a monster.

Connor was designed to manipulate and persuade androids into following its commands; a trait Keith thought would have a terrible backlash on the police if it ever became deviant and realized it could use its techniques on humans as well. In addition, it could perform vocal imitations by mimicking other people’s sound and speech patterns. Combined with its long list of combat skills and official permission to bear arms, it truly sounded like a deadly force Keith hoped he would never have to face.

“I see why they don’t need that many officers in this operation unit.” Keith gulped, eyeing Pidge from the opposite end of the couch.

“I can’t decide whether this thing is a technological wonder or the most dangerous weapon humanity has ever created.”

“I’d settle for both.”

They sat there in silence for a while, taking in the weight of the information they had gathered over the past few hours. There was indeed a suspicion of android deviancy being more than just a mere software malfunction, causing the state to initiate a massive undercover operation to neutralize all androids prone to violence, and even dedicating an entire taskforce to the cause. However, it was not deemed serious enough to stop the production of androids or warn the public. They tried to conceal the issue the best they could, but along with the growing number of incidents came growing publicity. This is what had caused more and more people to become polarized in the debate of whether or not androids were wanted in society.

Keith used the word wanted; because he knew they were definitely needed in society by this point. Post offices, grocery stores, amusement parks, cafes; everything was run by androids these days. Cars drove themselves, android maids cleaned houses and took care of kids, android NBA players had just been introduced, android astronauts were sent to space instead of humans – they were everywhere. The entire infrastructure of Detroit would immediately collapse if androids were removed from the city. The state leaders did not want that to happen. No, Keith concluded, this was an operation designed to keep the current issues under control until CyberLife could design better, more pliant androids, to replace the old ones. There was no plan to stop using androids; it seemed more as if they tried to prevent a disease from spreading further. The situation was indeed complicated.

What was he supposed to do with all this information? He had thought that looking at the facts would calm him somehow; and maybe help him settle on what to think about Lance. But this was so much bigger than that. He did not really expect to find support for his theories; that was only the irrational part of his brain speaking. As much as he did not want to admit it, he had expected to be proven wrong so that he could leave this night behind him and pretend it never happened. Instead, he was left with so many unanswered questions, and even more worry and sympathy for the machine he had left in the care of CyberLife just a few hours prior. What if they never kept up their end of the bargain? What if they decided to deactivate Lance after all? After what Keith had learned, it would be even more heartbreaking. Because now he was convinced. It was not a question for him anymore. Lance was alive. Alive and oppressed by humans.

Maybe I could buy him out of there… Who was he kidding? He did not have that kind of money. Even if he scraped together everything he owned he could probably not afford more than a simple housekeeping model. There was no use. He let out a sigh of frustration, and heard Pidge echoing him on the left. They spoke first.

“This detective slash conspiracy session didn’t help much, did it? Man, now even I feel sorry for that LX700.”

“Lance. His name is Lance.”

“Sorry… Lance. I cannot believe we have created something that might actually be alive just from technology, it is insane… This whole police-thing is insane…”

“What’s insane?”

They both jumped from fear this time, Pidge even gripped the vase on the sofa table and readied for attack. When they turned around their entire state shifted from fear to rage.

“MATT! YOU FUCKING SCARED THE SHIT OUT OF ME YOU IDIOT!”

Keith shifted his head to see that the source of the noise indeed was Matt Holt, now bending over and supporting himself on his thighs, a high-pitched laugh escaping his mouth. After glancing over at Pidge, who was glaring at their brother with the vase still in their hands like a baseball bat, Keith burst out laughing as well. It was a nice relief from the previous tension that had stained the room.

After a few seconds, Pidge finally gave in, and they all cackled together for a good few minutes before they managed to compose themselves again. Matt then scanned the room with interest, eyeing the hologram of Connor, the news tablets spread out across the floor, and table filled with pizza crust and stains from coffee and energy drinks.

“And what exactly have you been up to?” Keith and Pidge shared a look, trying desperately to read each other’s minds so they could come up with a convincing story. It did not work out. They both sat there almost speechless, mumbling incoherently about pizza and movie night in a way Keith knew was very unconvincing.

Matt shook his head, chuckling again. “I guess I don’t want to know after all. You better clean up though; it looks like someone dropped a nuclear bomb in here.”

Keith let out what he hoped was an inaudible sigh of relief.

“And Keith, I think you better go home and get a good night’s sleep, you look like a train wreck. Besides, it’s 3 am, and I want to go to bed.” He let out an exaggerated yawn to illustrate his point, raising his arms over his head.

3 am? Wasn’t it twelve o’clock just seconds ago? Keith could not quite grasp how they had possibly spent this much time bent over their computers researching. While he did feel more than just a little exhausted, he had figured that was from the emotional trauma the day had brought with it, and not the lack of sleep. But now that he was made aware of it, he realized he was only minutes away from passing out on the floor from tiredness.

“How was your shift?” Pidge was clearly trying to make sure that the subject of what they had been doing never came up again.

“Horrible. Someone spilled their beer all over me, and the barista machine had a malfunction that caused it to continuously make Mojitos all night. The counter was filled with them. All the guests kept stealing them and there was no way to keep track…” Matt continued to babble about Mojitos and rude costumers for a while, and Keith gave Pidge the thumbs up before he prepared himself to leave. They sure knew how to distract their brother from prying.

Just as he was about to enter the hallway and put on his boots, head still spinning from all the confusing events of the past few hours, Matt called out to him again.

“Don’t forget about Minetti’s assignment for Monday! I am willing to bet fifty bucks that he calls you up to present yours. He hates you with a fiery passion after all.”

Oh fuck, the assignment! He wasn’t even halfway done with it! He was initially going to work on that tonight, but had forgotten about if for obvious reasons. There was no way he would be able to write six more pages about the artistic influences that inspired the works of Henri de Toulouse-Lautrec in this condition… Oh no, Matt was looking at him with that concerned frown, and that meant he would talk to Shiro. Keith had to lie, and convincingly.

“I’m already finished actually. Yesterday night. Are you stressed out about yours?” He tried sounding confident, but did not know if it came off like that.

“Really? I am way behind. Too many shifts at the bar, but I need the money. Luckily, you’re the one he hates and not me.” Matt scratched the back of his head nervously, biting down on his lower lip hard; it seemed to be a Holt family trait.

“Don’t worry; you’ll get it done in time.” He realized he said that mostly to comfort himself and not Matt.

“Thanks mate. See you Monday!”

“Yeah, see you around. Bye Pidge!”

“Bye Keith!”

They shared another look before he closed the door behind him, silently agreeing to keep what they’d found out between the two of them. Who would believe them anyway? Besides, they had just broken a few dozen laws by hacking into those databases, better not to tell your big brothers about such things. They tend to overreact.

On his way home, Keith’s head was a mess. Oppressing the intrusive thoughts about Lance, android deviancy and the RX800 model, Keith decided to focus all his energy on finishing his Modern Arts paper in the course of the next 24 hours. As usual, he would use college as a distraction from actual real-life issues, destroying his body and mind trying to please his Professors and maintain his scholarship. That was something he was used to dealing with, some familiar routine work to dull his emotions and keep him from thinking about Lance. At least for a short while.

Fifteen hours later, passed out on his computer desk with five empty coffee mugs beside him, the android with the ocean blue eyes still haunted Keith’s dreams, screaming and pleading him for help. “Keith! Help me! It’s going away, it is fading! I don’t want to forget you!”

He woke up with a scream and a tear-stained face, as much in need of sleep as he had been before he passed out…

Chapter Text

Monday 1^st of November 10 AM – 3:40 PM

Anyone that exchanged looks with Keith Kogane that morning could tell he was a sleep-deprived train wreck. His hair was uncombed, a moppy mess on top of his head sticking in every single imaginable direction. The bags under his eyes seemed like never-ending dark pits of doom, and his skin was paler than ever. He was running on his fifteenth cup of black coffee since 8 pm last night, and he had almost passed out from the blood rushing to his head when tying his shoes that morning. Lance had haunted him every time he tried to rest his eyes for a bit; voice pleading and desperate, eyes on the verge of panic. It was painful. Utterly, indescribably painful.

 And the worst part was having to wait. He did not know what was going to happen. He did not know if Lance was safe, or even alive. It tore him apart. Whenever he thought about his playful smile, his pinkish lips, or his long, fluttering eyelashes, he felt a gut wrenching pain searing through his body, as if someone was stabbing his insides with a knife. If it had not been for that stupid assignment due today, Keith would have never even thought of setting his foot inside a classroom again for a long time.

Speaking of classes, he was late, and not by just a few minutes. It had taken all of his willpower not to fall asleep on his bike on the way to school, and the speed he had to hold in order not to crash, combined with leaving his apartment at the last minute, caused him to arrive at campus about twenty minutes late. Did he mention that the auditorium was on the other side of the building? This day was going splendidly so far.

Since he was already way past fashionably late, and about to collapse on himself, grunting at the elderly woman in the cafeteria to get him two espresso shots seemed appropriate. Maybe he could just die of caffeine overdose and pretend this never happened? Probably not, but it was worth a shot. Literally.

 She seemed to sympathize with him, and tossed in a leftover chocolate chip cupcake from yesterday’s batch with a worried smile, “Here, son. You look like you need it.”

“Thanks, Ryner. I probably do.” He did not return the smile though; it felt like something beyond his capacity at the moment.

Finishing the shots in less than ten seconds, he opened his phone to see three texts and a missed call from Matt. Crap. This had to mean Professor Minetti was more than aware of his absence. Even in his insomnolent state he had to chuckle a little at Matt’s contact name on his device, Pidge had really outdone themselves this time.

The-Less-Superior-Holt (Matt):

• [10.13] Dude, where are you? The lecture is starting in like two minutes, and Minetti is bound to ask you to present your text. We both know he hates you.

• [10:27] Keith, get to class soon, please. Minetti is furious, and he is taking it out on me… He is actually pretty scary when he’s like this.

• [10:36] You know I have to tell Shiro about this, right? I’m gonna see him for lunch today, and you know your brother reads me like an open book…

Keith:

• [10:42] I’ll be there in five, overslept. Please don’t tell Shiro.

The-Less-Superior-Holt (Matt)

• Sorry, no promises. He knows how to persuade me.

Keith let out a deep sigh; he was screwed. Shiro calling him up yesterday, worry clear in his voice when he had heard how broken Keith sounded, had been hard enough to handle. He was not letting his brother find out about his predicament due to him getting late to class. This was something he needed to handle on his own. Besides, he did not need more reasons for Shiro’s eyes to constantly be on him. His brother was watching him like a hawk, and protecting him like a nesting mother hen. Frankly, it was quite annoying.

Simultaneously running and stuffing the cupcake in his mouth – he had totally forgotten to eat breakfast, hadn’t he? – Keith reached the auditorium in record time. He ran so fast he had to stop outside the door for a second to catch his breath. One hand on the knob, he took a deep breath to brace himself before finally pushing the door open and entering the room. His gaze immediately locked on squinted sea green eyes and brown bushy brows frowning at him. Matt had not been exaggerating when he said Minetti was furious.

“Ah, Mr. Kogane, how polite of you to join us at last.” Judging by his tone, he meant the exact opposite of what he was saying. The broad, hairy man gave him a menacing look as he sat down next to Matt on the back row. His friend gave his arm a light squeeze of support, and Keith was ineffably happy that Matt was with him in that moment.

If Mr. Minetti had been a character in a children’s novel, Keith had no doubt that he would be the villain. In fact, the best way to describe him might have been as the male version of Ms. Trunchbull from “Matilda”. He was broad-shouldered, with several hairy moles adorning his face, and had bristly hairs coming down from his petit goatee that made him look like a cod. An ugly cod, if Keith had to say so himself. His shoulders were not the only part of his body that was broad, and the way he wore his shirt tucked in his jeans accentuated his potbelly even further. This did not look stellar combined with his slicked back, dark brown hair. His brows were quite bushy, and looked like they wanted to meet in the center of his face but were burnt off before they got the chance. Right now, those brows combined with his angry frown made Keith unable to decide whether he should laugh aloud or be terrified. His professor was really something else.

“While you were gone, I had Mr. Holt here present his assignment to the class, and let’s just say that you should hope you did a better job than he did.” Minetti was pacing back and forth in front of his desk, but his sea green eyes never left Keith’s violet ones. He spat profusely when he was talking, and Keith was forever grateful that he did not place himself on the front row. That was a shower he did not want to take.

“Fortunately for you” – Minetti let out a rather annoyed grunt, continuing his monologue – “we do not have time for any more presentations today. But mark my words, I will not forget about this incident when I evaluate your paper, Kogane.”

“A paper is supposed to be evaluated by performance, not by your personal preference.” Keith could not stop himself from talking back; he was on a very short fuse from the emotional turmoil and lack of sleep. He noticed how aggressive his own voice sounded, and how Matt was now pulling at his arm to stop him from springing out of his seat from pure frustration. He knew he was not making the situation any better for himself.

“And your performance today was non-existent since you did not show up. Now shut that mouth of yours and open your textbook to page 396, we will be covering abstract art for the rest of this lesson and I expect you to pay attention.”

Keith clenched his fists but lowered his head in defeat, barely managing to contain his anger. It took all of his willpower not to trash the man right then and there. Mr. Minetti had not been subtle about it, he would under-mark his paper on purpose, and Keith was not convinced it was a good one in the first place. After all, how good could a paper be when over half of it was written in a state of panic and exhaustion combined with a massive caffeine rush? At this point, failure was almost inevitable, and he was struggling with this subject in the first place. He felt devastated.

For the most part of the lecture, Keith switched between dozing off, being caught up in android conspiracy theories and worrying about Lance. What if they had found out about Pidge’s hacking and were disassembling Lance for investigative purposes right now? What if they showed up on their door demanding to know why they had meddled with Cyberlife’s software? Not only would they ruin Lance and most likely never put him back together again, but his friend would be in trouble as well. Big trouble. Keith had dragged Pidge down with him into something far more dangerous than he could fathom. If what they had done came out, they would be in a serious predicament. He was in over his head.

“-eith? …Keith?” Too distracted by his thoughts, Keith did not react to the voice until a hand started wiggling in front of his face. Great, he must have zoned out again.

He blinked a few times, tilting his head towards the source of the arm and muttering an unintelligible “huh?”, before his mind managed to register that it was most likely just Matt. He was about to space out again when he realized that even though it was just Matt, he was trying to get in touch with him. He should probably reply.

“Yeah?”

“Keith, are you ok?” He really hated that worried tone of voice, it was unsettling. And paired with Matt’s honey eyes scanning his face with concern, it felt even worse. He understood that his friend was worried about him, but why was it that everyone had to watch over him at all times? It was not as if Keith was some fragile porcelain doll that could break any second, he was perfectly capable of handling his own problems. He was an adult, after all.

“I’m fine.” – He mumbled, waving Matt’s hand away – “I’m just tired. Had to stay up all night to finish the damn paper.”

“You said you’d finished it when we talked earlier.” “I lied, ok?” Matt pulled back slightly at the sting of annoyance in Keith’s voice.

“Keith, are you sure you’re ok?” There were those soul-searching, sympathetic eyes again. Why did he have to be so persistent? He wished Matt would just mind his own business and stop asking questions.

“I’m telling you, it’s fine. I just need some sleep and I’ll be back to normal.”

He could tell Matt was not buying what he was saying at all, but since he shrugged his shoulders and turned back to his textbook, Keith assumed he had let him off the hook for now.

“Just know that I’m here if you need to talk about it.” A final offering, playing the ball over to Keith but still allowing him to drop the subject if he wanted to. Keith sent him a ghost of a smile to let him know that he appreciated the gesture, even if he did not take him up on his offer. Matt Holt was a great friend, no doubt.

Then, as if the gods had not yet punished him enough, his phone started ringing, loudly blasting Knights Of The Black Death through the entire lecture hall. If Mr. Minetti had been furious before, he was certainly about to explode now, his eyes boring into Keith as if to say “try taking that phone call and that will be the last thing you ever do in this classroom”. At first, Keith was immensely frustrated and annoyed by the situation. Was he not in enough trouble already? Then he remembered that it could CyberLife or Eden Club on the other end of the line, darted up immediately, and sprinted out of the classroom while muttering a half-hearted apology about a “call from the doctor’s office”. He instantly picked up the phone after closing the door behind him; his hearting beating as if he had ran a marathon.

“Hello?” A mixture of angst and anticipation ran through his veins.

“Hello,” a strictly formal female voice greeted him from the other end of the line. Most likely an android service operator, Keith concluded.

“Am I speaking to a Mr. K. Kogane?”

“Yes, that’s me.” Ba-dump, ba-dump. Keith could feel his pulse in his throat. Was this about Lance? He hoped it was, but at the same time, he dreaded it. What if something had gone wrong?

“I am calling to inform you that the service model LX700, also known as Lance, has been fully repaired and restored to factory settings, and will be dropped off at Eden Club 3 PM this afternoon. From then on, it will be eligible for booking again, with you as its first client, as promised. On behalf of Eden Club and CyberLife, I would like to offer up yet another apology for the traumatizing experience you went through. We hope our compensations will leave you satisfied and wish you a pleasant day. Any questions?”

Keith let out a heavy sigh of relief. He was ok. Lance was ok. He was not dead, and Keith was going to see him again in just a few hours! His body felt feather light, as if he could fly up into the skies fueled on pure bliss alone, looping an endless amount of times while cheering loudly and raising his fists to the heavens. Lance was alive. It was unbelievable. Oh right, he had to reply.

“No. No questions... Thank you for the information. Have a nice day.” He could barely conceal the excitement from his voice, feeling tears of joy spring from his eyes.

“Goodbye, Mr. Kogane.” She hung up on him before he had the chance to respond, but he could not care less. There was nothing that could bring him down right now. Nothing.

At least, that was what he had thought, but then he realized this was not just a cheerful, happy moment. The joy of Lance being alive had made Keith forget another detrimental problem – Lance did not remember him. He had been reset to factory settings, meaning that Keith was just like any other client to him. In addition, it was not like Keith and Lance were a thing at all. Could they even be considered friends? They had known each other for the span of a few hours. Even if he did remember Keith – would Lance care if he came visited him? “Hey Keith, thanks for saving me but I have another client to shag right now. See ya around!” Just the thought left him heartbroken.

No, he could not let himself get in this mindset. He had not desperately tried to save Lance just because he felt this strange attraction to him. It was because he was convinced he was alive. Because he had showed the ability to think and feel, to act on his own. Even if he was not human, technically speaking, Keith still saw him as his equal and his life as more than worth saving. Lance was alive, that was the important thing here. Whatever Keith was feeling, he could sort that out later. Now, everything was about making sure that Lance was ok.

His emotional turmoil did not lessen much, but the miracle of Lance’s recovery was enough for Keith to allow the feeling of tiredness and exhaustion to hit him like a double-decker bus. He really needed some sleep. And a shower. His breath was probably stinking. He should get home immediately. Who even cared anymore? Mr. Minetti was pissed off at him anyways; there was nothing he could do to change it. Besides, some things were much more important than learning about abstract art from the 1800’s.

There was only one issue with his plan – his bag was still in the classroom. He checked his watch: 11:58, just two more minutes until the end of class. He could run in, grab it, and run out. Easy peasy, right?

Those two minutes felt immensely long, and Keith had to keep himself in motion to avoid falling asleep. Finally, the bell rang, and Keith rushed inside the classroom, grabbed his backpack before anyone could get off their seats, and waved goodbye to a confused Matt while sprinting out the door to avoid Minetti catching up to him. He did not want to participate in that conversation.

“Kogane, come back here right now!” Keith could not help but glance smugly at his professor over his shoulder before picking up his pace and running to his bike. He was going to be in so much trouble, but it was well worth it.

Twenty minutes later, he was finally back in his apartment, hanging his leather jacket up by the front door, kicking off his shoes and immediately collapsing on the couch. This, this was what he needed. He could probably press in a good 1.5 hours of sleep before picking up Lance at Eden Club, and he was not going to waste a minute of it.

“Set alarm for 2:45 PM” He noted the affirming clicking noise from his digital home system. Good, he could rest now.

The exhaustion was overpowering, and even with an endless stream of thoughts and emotions running through him, Keith fell asleep only seconds after his head hit the armrest.

If Keith said he was a tiny bit nervous to meet Lance again, it would have been a tremendous understatement. Butterflies and hornets had an ongoing war in his stomach, and he was sure that if he lost focus for just one second, his knees would buckle out below him. Moreover, it was quite embarrassing for a college student like himself to affiliate with the only android sex club in Detroit. Rumor went fast at Altea; he would surely hear about this when he returned to classes tomorrow.

Keith had deduced that it would seem a bit too eager to arrive at Eden Club the exact moment that they were dropping Lance off, and decided to come in by 3:30. That also gave him the time to take a quick shower, brush his teeth to get rid of the inevitable coffee stains from the last few days, and actually comb his hair so it did not look like a bird’s nest. Not that he needed to dress up for Lance. Nope. Most certainly not, he tried to convince himself while applying another load of perfume. This was just in order to look presentable for Eden Club. And if he used some light concealer under his eyes to cover up the worst of his dark circles, adding a touch of eyeliner for good measure, that was entirely coincidental and had nothing to do with a certain ocean-eyed android.

He had been too eager, racing way past the speed limit on his motorbike and nearly crashed into the car in front of him when he tried to run a red light. Needless to say, the driver had yelled at him quite loudly, telling him exactly where he could stick his bike up. Keith found that mostly comical despite the gravity of the situation. It was not as if they ended up crashing anyway.

When arriving at the front of the club, Keith felt quite squirmish, avoiding eye contact with other visitors and trying very hard not to stare at the massive billboard displaying a nearly naked African-American android with a very impressive bulge. It bore the caption: The sexiest androids in town. Well, I can’t argue with that. He gulped audibly before approaching the sliding doors to enter the android sex paradise. It felt sinful going into a place like this, and Keith was not even remotely religious.

“Welcome to Eden Club.” A stimulating female voice greeted him over the speakers. Keith could feel an involuntary shiver go down his spine. Were all voices in here programmed to sound this pleasing?

The lighting in the hall was dim and sensual, somewhat reminiscent of a nightclub, but with a more voluptuous feel to it. A mix of blue, pink and purple neon lights brightened the room. The walls were covered in videos of android women pleasuring themselves, clad in anything from school skirts to leather bondage wear. Keith tried his best to avert his gaze from the near-nude men flexing in circular glass pods along the sides of the hallway, he barely noticed that there were women in them as well; they were not nearly as interesting.

The pods all bore neon blue circular markings numbered from one and upwards. Keith vaguely wondered if this had anything to do with the quality of the android, or if it was just a simple way to keep track of them. He landed on the latter. Still, his mind supplied a libidinous image of Lance swaying his hips in the pod marked with number one, the thought making him hot and bothered. He had definitely earned that spot.

With a newfound curiosity, Keith approached one of the pods carefully, eyeing the android inside it. How did he feel about being put on display like this? He wondered, touching the glass lightly with his hand. Did he feel anything at all? He took note of the panel next to him, displaying a handprint mark and the sum of 29.99 $. His hand went up to trace the pattern, and he was taken aback by the voice of a female operator.

“Hello. A thirty minute session costs 29.99 $. Please confirm your purchase.” Oh fuck. No no no no no. Keith immediately drew his hand back and stepped away from the panel, suddenly filled with alarm. He was just looking, ok? No buying, just looking. A few other customers started eyeing him, and Keith wished there was a hole in the floor he could sink into to hide from this embarrassment. Tomato red and visibly flustered, he quickly scurried into the next room, concealing his face from passing strangers.

Wow, Keith thought. The entrance hallway was nothing compared to this place. poles. The ceiling was higher in here, allowing the light to hit the walls in a way that created an even more erotic feel.  In addition to the neon lights, video boards and androids in glass pods; this room featured several heightened platforms equipped with glow-in-the-dark stripping poles. Moreover, one of those poles were currently being used by a beautiful android with long, curly silver hair and dark, tan, luscious skin covered in glittering highlighter. Her skin tone contrasted perfectly with the neon pink, sparkling pole, and she slid down from the top head first, spreading her legs with the utmost of grace. Their gazes met, and endearing blue eyes bored into Keith’s soul. She was beautiful. How could someone performing such a degrading activity look so elegant? As if she was in complete control of the situation.

In a way she was, Keith realized. As he looked around him, he noticed that almost all the men in the room were staring at her, mouths agape in awe. Some were even drooling slightly. She could probably get them to do anything she wanted to. Except she was not allowed a will of her own. None of the androids here were. The thought repelled him.  

A service operator approached him, eyeing Keith with a knowing look, “Beautiful isn’t it?”

“Yes.” Keith could not help but agree. There was something captivating about this girl that he could not quite put his finger on.

“One of the latest batches of WR400 androids – the Allura model. I think the name is a play on alluring – clever don’t you think? We used to have one more, but…” – he stopped himself there, pausing to think as if he was about to say something out of turn – “…well, it’s not here anymore.”

“Oh...”

Somehow, this triggered a reaction in Keith. A missing WR400? It sounded vaguely familiar; he must have read about it in the police archives. ‘Take this case as an example. A WR400 model, one of the typical escort androids, strangled a man in his apartment and escaped the scene a few weeks ago.’ Pidge’s voice echoed in his head. Maybe the two were one and the same.

They never managed to find her. Very interesting. He made a mental note to mention this to Pidge when he got back home. Androids did not just attempt to run away, several of them had actually succeeded. They had both assumed that the police hunted them down and killed them shortly after, in a couple of days tops; but it seemed that somewhere out there, androids were living in refuge. They were free. Maybe Lance could go there too.

The man who talked to Keith had left just as swiftly as he arrived, and he was once again left alone on the floor, glancing up at Allura dancing. One day you will be free to do whatever you want. At least I hope so…

Keith approached the front desk, noticing the private cubicles designed for sessions. Along the doors, glowing neon letters showed whether the room was available. Monday afternoon clearly was not the busiest time at Eden Club; Keith could have guessed that without looking. He glanced over at the display on the door’s sides, and suddenly felt a bit disgusted with humanity. Record session for an extra $9. Treating androids like worthless objects. He despised it.

The forming theory in his mind that androids indeed had the capacity to develop free will, and that humans exploited them as slaves, leaving them incapable of fulfilling their true potential, had only strengthened by what he had been exposed to at Eden Club. Whenever he looked at androids dancing by the poles or offering themselves up to customers, lifeless smiles plastered across their faces, he felt the blood boiling under his skin. This was not fair. They could be so much more. Lance could be so much more. It made him feel sick to his stomach.

 Even the front desk operator was an android. Not that Keith was surprised; androids had replaced most humans working in sales and services at this point. He certainly understood why some of the less fortunate parts of society had come to dislike them. The unemployment rates in Detroit were the highest they had ever been, and getting work was hard unless you were highly educated or a part of the entertainment industry. Moreover, it was easier to blame the ones you could see right in front of you rather than the multi-billion dollar company pulling the strings. He handed the worker his ID card and tried to use his most formal tone of voice.

“Hello, my name is Keith Kogane. I have an appointment with the manager.”

The female android gave him a once over, handed his ID back and tapped away at her computer for a few seconds.

“Hello, Mr. Kogane. You are expected in room 223 B, right down the end of the hallway and to the left. I hope you have a pleasant experience.” Keith was about to protest and say that he was not here looking for an “experience” but the receptionist had already started to attend another customer.

A minute later, he was standing outside the door to room 223 B. It looked like a typical cubicle for activities that should not be done in public, and Keith once again questioned if the woman at the desk had made a mistake. Swallowing his pride, he decided to enter the room anyway. After all, how bad could it be?

He was met with a room resembling a small suite with a big heart-shaped bed in the middle, otherwise ripped of furniture. Two android service workers led by a human, most likely the manager, were pacing around in the room collecting various scanning devices, a storage pod, and android repair equipment. And there, in the far left corner of the room, eyes closed as though he was in a deep slumber, stood Lance. Keith could feel his heart skip a beat. He was just as marvelous as he remembered.

“Ok guys, move this equipment out will you? I will run the standard protocol once more to make sure he is in top condition.” The manager called out, and the androids immediately started rushing out the door. No one seemed to have noticed him yet, and Keith took this as a cue to introduce himself to the other human.

“Hello, sir. I am here for the appointment with Lance.” He made sure to use the android’s name when addressing him, refusing to refer to him as a series of letters and digits.

“Ahh… Yes. You came right on time; we just made the final adjustments. It should be ready for you now.” He stepped aside for Keith to inspect Lance himself.

He was wearing the usual uniform, and thank god for that. Keith did not want anyone to see him sporting a semi hard-on just from looking at Lance in his boxers. He could not help but scan him from head to toe, admiring his every feature from his strong biceps straining his jacket to the healthy shine in his chocolate brown hair. Lifting his hand to caress Lance’s cheeks, Keith noticed the sharpness of his jawline and the sultriness of his lips. Lance was stunningly handsome. It took his breath away.

Suddenly, blue eyes flickered open and a familiar smirk appeared, catching Keith off guard.

“It’s rude to stare you know, but you’re cute so I’ll allow it.” Keith jumped, letting out a flustered yelp.

“Awww, didn’t mean to scare you, hermoso.” Christ, Keith had forgotten how that voice melted his insides. His cheeks turned a bright pink and he looked away bashfully, not knowing where to place his eyes.

The manager chuckled at the interaction, moving closer to inspect Lance. He obediently let the man run his hands up and down his body to look for any abnormalities, his eyes never leaving Keith’s, biting his lower lip playfully.

“It seems to be in good working order. I’m just gonna run some voice commands and he’s all yours for the next two hours.” Keith let out a sigh of relief. Lance was ok. He was undamaged. It felt as if he was Atlas and the world had been lifted off his shoulders. Finally, he could relax. Lance seemed to notice the tension leaving his body, and eyed him curiously. His eyes shone like sapphires, it was unfair how Keith would always squirm under his gaze.

“Android, state your model, serial number and function.” The operator ordered. Lance shifted his gaze towards him and started listing a series of pre-programmed sentences.

“Hello, my name is Lance. I am an LX700 prototype model working for Eden Club. My serial number is #280 723 100 -24. I am an escort android. My functions include seduction, obedience, and engaging in sexual activities with clients (And he excels at it. Keith, this is not the time). I am equipped with several gadgets that aid in the purpose of fulfilling my client’s desires.”

“All yours, kid. Have fun.” The manager waved as he walked out of the room, seemingly uninterested in what Keith and Lance would be up to after he left. That was not too strange, considering this was a part of his everyday life. He probably just assumed they were going to have sex. Keith’s blush grew darker at the thought. Would he ever be able to stay in the same room as Lance with a normal color on his face?

Keith suddenly felt very awkward. He did not really plan what he would do in this situation. In fact, he was not sure he would ever be able to be alone with Lance again. What should he do now? Smalltalk? Give him a hug? No, that would be weird. Lance did not even know who he was anymore. Right. He should introduce himself. Fiddling with his leather gloves and not quite meeting Lance’s curious gaze, Keith started mumbling.

“Uhh… Hi. I guess I should introduce myself. I… My… My name is…” Why did he stutter so much? Keith let out a groan of frustration. This shouldn’t be that hard, right?

A hand found his, while another went to lift his chin so amethyst eyes could meet ocean ones. Their sudden closeness did not help with his already growing blush.

“… Keith. Your name is Keith, right?” All the air was instantly knocked out of Keith’s lungs, and he felt his pulse drumming in his ears. It was more of a question than a statement, but the implication was still heavy in the air. Not once had Keith mentioned his name after entering this room, which could only mean one thing: He remembers me?

Chapter Text

 Monday 1^st of November 3:30 PM – 6:45 PM

“…Keith. Your name is Keith, right?”

He still could not quite take in the words, or get a grasp of the sentiment behind them. Lance did not slip into his playful banter like earlier, he just stood there, eyeing him expectantly, face curious and his LED blinking a steady blue.

 Keith tried grounding himself by counting the blinks and following the rotating motions, mapping the pattern out in his head. This was all so overwhelming. Lance did not seem to remember anything about him, but still, he knew his name. How was that even possible? Nevertheless, he was here, in front of him, and he was alive and well. It was more than he could ever have hoped for.

“You… Do you remember me?” He had to ask, had to get it off his chest. There was still a small part of him hoping and praying for Lance’s face to light up with recognition, for him to smile and call him cute again. Remember how they bonded. His cheeks flushed cherry pink at the memory, and he felt silly. Even if he did remember, would it make any difference?

“No, should I remember you?” Lance cocked his head slightly to the right, giving Keith a quick once-over, his brows slightly furrowed in confusion. Keith felt his heart sinking in his chest. Maybe he had been more hopeful than he had let himself believe.

“I… We met once, before you were reset. It’s not that important.” Keith cast his eyes to the floor, fidgeting with the waistband of his jeans. Lance gave him a soft smile, a hint of amusement in his eyes.

“Seems like I made a good first impression. Well… It’s nice to meet you again, Keith.” Why did his voice have to be so velvety smooth? Keith could feel the chills spreading through his body, as if he was vibrating from head to toe. Did his nervousness show through? Lance’s slight wiggle of his eyebrows gave him the answer to that question, and in turn made him even more flustered.  

“Uhmmm… Yeah.” Great, now he had lost his ability to speak as well. Splendid.

Forcing himself to focus on something other than Lance’s blending smile, Keith adjusted his leather jacket and took a deep breath. He needed a game plan. There was no way he could tell Lance about what had happened to him in here; there were too many possible eavesdroppers. In theory, they could get a private room, but with the level of awkwardness he was displaying already, Keith dreaded the thought of being alone with Lance in a secluded room meant for… explicit activities. Especially considering how Lance would jump at the chance to do his job, which was to mold Keith like putty in his hands; something he excelled at without even trying.

Besides, he did not feel confident that they would not be recorded. Neon signs proclaiming that you could buy a film of your session flashed through his mind. How was he to know if the cameras were off unless you specifically asked? He did not particularly trust the credibility of this place. No, he most definitely needed to get Lance out of there, and then they could talk.

How would he go about doing that, though? Was it allowed to bring the android with you outside the venue? He had not thought about asking earlier, and did not feel like posing the question now. It felt somewhat creepy; maybe they would think he was an exhibitionist. That was most certainly a reputation he did not want to have. Nevertheless, there had to be a clause for bringing the android to your home from the venue; like a take-away deal. He shuddered at the comparison, feeling disgusted with himself. It was not as if Lance was an item for sale. At least not to him.

Maybe he should just ask him. Lance, that was. He would have to be informed about the company policies. Asking him would feel a bit less awkward than consulting the receptionist or the manager. Still, the thought gave Keith butterflies of both the nervous and the excited kind.

Lance did nothing to help the situation. While Keith had been rambling in his head, he had apparently loosened his tie and removed his suit jacket, and was now carefully unbuttoning his white shirt. Keith caught himself staring longingly at his slim, elegant fingers as they worked, unconsciously biting his lip as Lance’s tan pecs started coming into view. He gulped audibly, reaching his hand out and motioning for Lance to stop undressing.

“Why are you doing that? Keep your clothes on.” Lance chuckled softly, sending Keith a somewhat fond look. He reached out to grab his hand, pulling him a bit closer and forcing Keith’s eyes to meet his.

“I’m making it easier for you,”— Keith squirmed under his gaze —“You are aware that this is a sex club, right?” He mocked him, blue eyes sending him a provocative look.

“Yes… But I want you to keep them on.” Lance obliged but sent him a slight smirk, clearly entertained by Keith’s nervous demeanor.

“Uhmmm…” he could not keep eye contact, nor stay in the same spot, constantly shifting on his feet as he spoke “Can I… I mean… Is it allowed to bring you out of the Club?” God, he sounded so suggestive saying that, it made him feel nauseous.

“You can take me wherever you want, as long as we don’t get caught doing anything in public.” When Keith looked up, he saw Lance wiggling his brows again, his seductive gaze making Keith’s heart ripple in his chest, sending tidal waves through his body. The implication in his voice was clear; Lance was not at all against the idea of public sex, it was just a matter of being careful. It almost sounded like a proposition, as if he was particularly intrigued by the idea. Keith felt his ears getting hot, trying to lock up the lewd images that had started popping up in his head. This was not the right time.

“Ok. Then keep this on,”—Keith gestured to the suit—“we’re going outside.”

“A public kink, huh? Didn’t expect that from you, lindo.” Keith’s throat closed up and he started coughing uncontrollably, cheeks redder than ever. What was with this guy and all the cute nicknames and flirty looks? Did Lance want him to die from a heart attack?

“N… No. I’m taking you out,” his voice was shaky, but determined. This was what he needed to do. Besides, he was not sure if he could take another five minutes with Lance in this isolated room. He forced himself to keep his eyes locked on Lance’s, trying to emanate some semblance of confidence. It seemed to work, as Lance was the one to avert his gaze first, a shy smile playing on his lips.

“You are aware that there are dating androids out there in a much lower price-range?” His eyes darted up to meet Keith’s again, biting his lower lip, his composure and playfulness restored. Lance seemed fascinated by Keith’s apparent interest in him, probably wondering why he was here if not to get physical.

“Yeah… But they’re not you, ok?” Keith grew increasingly uncomfortable with the situation. He was not sure how to explain his reasoning to Lance. After all, he seemed to have no recollection of what happened between them; no recollection of what happened to himself. It was crucial that he got Lance alone to convey that information to him. At the same time, he could not deny that this was a selfish matter: he wanted Lance to remember. He wanted to know if there was something there, in that tender moment shared between man and machine. Was it possible for them to coexist as equals? Possible for them to develop a relation, a friendship?

It seemed Lance would keep asking him questions if he continued with this approach, better to be direct. Yes, no more beating around the bush, he had a limited time frame in which he had to test out his and Pidge’s idea.

“I want to take you out, ok? Just stop asking questions,” he huffed, crossing his arms and breaking their stare again.

“Sure” Lance shrugged, brushing his shoulder against Keith’s as he started walking towards the exit, slipping his arms back into his jacket sleeves. Turning back towards him, a wide grin spread across his face, he exclaimed with delight; “Besides, I wouldn’t mind going out with someone as handsome as yourself.”

“I… I didn’t say it was a date.” Keith willed himself to shrug back at him, trying his best not to display his inner excitement, ignoring the voice in the back of his head telling him that Lance was a machine and this was his programming talking. A date? With Lance? While that was not the main goal of this meeting, it did sound appealing. Very appealing, in fact.

“Your blush says so, guapo.” As Lance reached out to take Keith’s hand in his, and his blush grew to underline his argument, Keith cursed internally. He had been right earlier; Lance’s evident flirting would be the death of him.

Lance kept teasing him all the way to the entrance.

“I should have worn something fancy for our date, but I’m afraid this uniform is all I have.”

“Not. A. Date.” Keith repeated through gritted teeth, his cheeks feeling feverishly hot. He could not help but give Lance a quick once over. He looked hot in his standard uniform, but some ripped jeans and a bomber jacket would probably work nicely as well. Damn it, this was not where his thoughts were supposed to be going.

“Sure it isn’t.” Lance shrugged, squeezing his hand and smirking at him.

“… Why am I doing this again?” Keith deadpanned, rolling his eyes. Lance was not the only one that could play this game.

“Probably because I’m irresistible.” Lance retorted coyly. Well, he was not wrong about that. Did he just wink at me? Of course he did… Why am I even affected by this nonsense?

“Let’s just leave. Follow me.” Keith tugged at Lance’s hand and dragged him outside with a determined stride. No more time for jokes and flirting, however much he enjoyed it—and hated it at the same time—this was a serious matter, after all.

Keith had to admit that downtown Detroit could be quite charming in the fall. There was something about the atmosphere that changed when the green lungs of the city turned into multitudes of reds, oranges and yellows. People seemed to walk in shorter strides, taking their time to stop and look at the scenery, maybe enjoy a nice cup of coffee or hot chocolate. The continuous buzzing of conversations could be heard from the many café’s down the main street, and formations of migrating robins and sparrows flocked the grey-tinted sky. The harmonious atmosphere did not reflect the tension Keith felt building inside of him.

They had taken the motorcycle from Eden Club to a park area near the center of town, as Keith wanted to be on comfortable, neutral grounds when he finally came clean to Lance. Somewhere no one would think to overhear them, and somewhere that prevented Lance from running off. Not that he thought he would do that, but it was always better to be on the safe side.

He had nearly forgotten about the entire purpose of the trip when driving. There was something so intoxicating about having Lance’s arms wrapped around his torso, something incredibly endearing about how he had cheered like an enthusiastic child when he revved the engine. Lance loved speed. Keith had figured that out soon enough. There seemed to be a thrill running through him whenever Keith made a sharp turn or suddenly went full throttle. If he went particularly fast, he could feel those bronze hands clinging onto him for dear life.

Lance was laughing. He was positively beaming, his face lighting up and his cheekbones lifting from smiling too widely. Keith had made the fatal mistake of leaning his head back to check on him, and almost toppled over the bike in the process. How was it even possible to be that cute? So unfair.

After parking the bike at a nearby parking garage, Keith and Lance walked through the park hand in hand, ending up at a café Keith would describe as a hidden gem. From the outside, it looked quite bland, only a simple brick building and an old-fashioned green metal sign saying “Marmora café – A glimpse into the past”. It certainly did not fit the mold of modern 2030’s establishments, but that was why Keith found it so endearing.

Once you got inside, it was easier to tell that the venue had been upgraded to modern standards. The entire bar area was in a sleek black and neon-blue design, the desk lighting up from time to time to show today’s special, accompanied by pictures and videos of musicians from the late 1980’s. There was no cash register, only a handprint-scanner, but a hologram of an old cashbox from around the same era was flickering on the desk. A massive neon sign depicting the Rolling Stones logo hung on the wall behind the bar; the majority being blue but with the tongue lighting up in a hot pink color that contrasted the rest of the bar and became the focal point of attention.

A young woman with cocoa skin and dark hazel eyes stood at the counter, decked in a traditional black apron with a neon blue-checkered print; her hair cut in a short, asymmetrical bob with purple highlights. She greeted them with a warm, inviting smile, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. This was one of the few establishments in town that still used human workers.

“Welcome to Marmora Café, my name is Shay, how can I help you?”

“I’ll have a double espresso—“

“No, you won’t.” Keith did not get to finish his order before Lance interrupted him, reaching his hand out to grab Keith’s and prevent him from gesturing to the menu. Afterwards, he let out an awkward laugh, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. When he spoke again, his voice was a lot softer and more considerate.

“I mean… You really shouldn’t. Your pupils are dilated, your heart beats irregularly and your left hand seems to twitch from time to time, these are all indications of too much caffeine. Maybe you could order some cocoa, or a muffin? You look like you haven’t eaten in a while.”

“Fine…” Keith could not help the smile slowly making its way to his lips; Lance was incredibly cute when he was concerned for his well-being. Besides, he had been right about everything, Keith noted, looking down at his left hand. He had not paid much attention to his bodily needs in the last few days, and these spasms were probably not a good sign. As if to further prove his point, his stomach let out a large rumble, causing the cashier to erupt in giggles.

“How about I make you our special of the day? It’s maple-syrup pancakes, a whole stack. Sounds like you could use it.”

“Sure. That sounds great. Maybe throw in a cup of that hot chocolate as well, with some whipped cream?” Lance smiled approvingly at him, and Keith looked down to see that Lance’s hand had never let go of his own, and instead moved to twine their fingers together. He felt his heart skip a beat.

“Ummm… This might be a rude question,” Shay mumbled nervously, but continued “I’ve never seen this android model before, what does it do?”

“It just keeps me company and stuff, you know.” Keith said, leaving the answer to the question vague enough that he would not have to think on his feet. He did not want Lance’s actual profession to be revealed, as that would be quite embarrassing for him. Lance, however, did not seem to have a problem with this.

“Actually, I am an…”

“—He’s a companion model. Just a companion model.” Keith cut him off, nudging his shoulder to stop him from saying anything compromising. Lance’s LED flickered yellow for a short second, an annoyed expression plastered on his face, but he kept quiet. Keith let out an internal sigh of relief. That was too close for comfort.

They found themselves a table facing the street and the nearby park, sat down and waited for Keith’s pancakes. He was about to ask if Lance wanted something, before realizing that would probably be both embarrassing and inappropriate. After all, androids could not eat.

Looking out the window, observing the birds feeding on suet cakes placed at various locations in the park, he braced himself for what was to come. The café was almost empty, but a couple of tables were filled, creating a comfortable social buzzing in the background. They had not attracted any unwanted attention coming in. No one would bother to overhear their conversation.

They had already spent around an hour at the Eden Club, and this was probably Keith’s final chance to get things off his chest before Lance had to resume to his duties. He could not afford to let him forget again.

“So,” Keith cleared his throat, shifting in his seat, “let’s get a few things cleared up… You know my name, yes?”

“Yeah, you’re Keith. Keith Kogane.” Lance answered, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world to him.

“And you know that because..?” Lance seemed to hesitate when he asked this, his LED shifting color, eyes flickering across the room in a distressed manner. He bit his lower lip and sucked in a big mouthful of air, even though there was no need for him to breathe at all. Overall, he looked uncomfortable; caught off guard.

“…It’s embedded in my long-term memory. Your name and face. Just that.” Keith’s mouth went dry and his pulse quickened. How was that even possible? It had to be a mistake..?

“Are you sure you didn’t see it somewhere when you woke up? Or heard someone speak to me when you were hibernating?” Yes, he convinced himself. That had to be it. There was no way…

“Yes. I just… knew. I don’t know why.” Keith did not know if this revelation was pleasant or terrifying.

“One pancake tower and a cream cocoa for Keith.” The barista interrupted them, breaking the steady line of conspiracy theories building in Keith’s mind.

“Thanks.” He mumbled, before adding in a confused tone, “How do you know my name?”

“Your android scribbled it down on your order when you left for your table. Seems like he’s good at looking after you.” She gave Lance a soft smile.

“Yeah, he is.” Keith replied, smiling fondly back at her.

The stack of pancakes looked divine, and before Keith could stop himself, another rumbling sound escaped from his starving stomach.

“Go ahead,” Lance chuckled, gesturing for him to eat, “no point in talking on an empty stomach.” He seemed to have used the slight time during the interruption to compose himself, and was back to his confident stature.

Keith wolfed down the pancakes within the next five minutes, something he would probably regret later; but right now, he desperately needed the refill of energy. He did not get to taste much of it, but the pieces that lingered on his tongue long enough were heavenly. The maple syrup had just the right amount of sweetness, and the viscosity made it stick to his tongue, leaving the taste of melting brown sugar. He let out a pleased sigh, placing the knife and fork back on his plate and taking a large gulp if his hot chocolate. Seems he was even hungrier than he had thought.

As he lowered the cup from his mouth, Lance burst out in laughter, his eyes welling with some watery substance that threatened to spill over. Tears? Seemed he still had a lot to learn about Lance. Keith lifted his hand to his face, quickly identifying the source of Lance’s outburst. Cream. Lots of it. All over his upper lip and probably on his nose as well. He glanced annoyingly over at the android, who was now bent over, his arms wrapped around himself as he laughed from the bottom of his belly. Okay, that was positively adorable. Definitely worth the embarrassment.

He faked annoyance as he wiped his face with a napkin, but was sure Lance could see his lips tilting upwards behind his stoic mask. Lance had stopped laughing now. The drops of water from earlier seemed to have retracted back into his eye sockets; fascinating. Leaning back on his chair, he eyed Keith expectantly, as if waiting for him to say something. When Keith kept staring at him in silence, he spoke up.

“Wasn’t there something you were gonna tell me?” Cocking his head to the side, Lance raised his brows in attention, crossing his legs and leaning further back on his chair.

“… Are you sure you don’t remember meeting me at all?” Keith bit his lower lip nervously. He had to find out. How did Lance know his name and face, yet he did not remember anything about their encounter? That should not be possible.

“Are you sure we have met before?” Lance countered teasingly, “I think I would have remembered meeting someone as pretty as you.” He threw him a wink, and once again caught Keith off guard. Great, now he had returned to the land of the tomatoes. Lance sniggered, his eyes flickering over Keith’s face.

“I like it when you blush. My heat sensors register the blood flush to your cheeks. It’s fascinating. Besides, it makes you look really cute.” Keith huffed, burying his face in his jacket. The comment did not help on said blush. Does he really think I’m cute?

“You’re positively adorable,” Lance replied, making Keith realize he uttered his thoughts aloud. Ok, deep breaths, Keith. Deep breaths. He is programmed to say stuff like that. When he looked back up, Lance’s eyes bored into him, the playfulness from earlier replaced with something that seemed sad, almost guilty.

“I really can’t remember you though. I’m very sorry. It seems our relation was important to you.” Keith smiled softly at the sentiment, reaching out to take Lance hand in his, making them both lean forward over the table.

“It’s ok. It’s not your fault. I knew you wouldn’t remember. You were reset…” —He shuddered at the unpleasant memories— “But that’s why I’m so confused. If they really did reset you, then how do you know my name and face?” Another flicker of yellow on Lance’s temple. This time it lingered for a few seconds before it shifted back to blue, his face contorted in distress.

“I… I don’t know.” His gaze was locked on Keith, sapphire orbs boring themselves into his soul. Clenching and unclenching his free hand several times, Lance took a moment to calm down before speaking up again.

“Like I said, you are embedded in my long-term memory. Or, not you. Just your name and face. Like a recognition pattern…” Stopping, as if unsure of how to continue the sentence, Lance looked at Keith with a more and more desperate stare. Keith squeezed his hand softly to show his support. When he continued, his voice was on the edge of trembling.

“You’re there in the same way as the employees at Eden Club and my creators. Except they are all designed roles. You’re just… there.” It took a few seconds for the words to sink in. Keith did not know what to think. Apparently, in an effort to override his system, Lance had attempted to upload the information about Keith to his storage unit. It seemed he failed midway, but still, he had actually been able to will himself into remembering Keith, even though it nearly cost him his life. Keith could not stop the affectionate smile that crept over him as he squeezed Lance’s hand again, warmth spreading through his veins.

“I guess you really did not want to forget me.” Lance returned the smile, but it seemed to be more of a polite gesture than an actual display of joy and endearment. He quickly turned serious again, shoulders slumping down and eyes drifting across Keith, worry embedded in his features. A steady zooming sound came from his temple, and once again, blue turned yellow. This time however, it failed to turn back.

“Uhh… Keith…” he started, his voice still somewhat shaky, “Why was I reset?” Worry, fear, distrust, so many emotions seemed to flash across Lance’s face in that moment. Does he think I hurt him? Keith wondered. He would not blame him. Lance had no information available. All he knew was that Keith had somehow ended up on his hard drive. For all he knew, Keith could have attempted to hack him, or he could be put in there as a warning from his past self: Do not approach this person; he is dangerous. There was no way for Lance to distinguish between enemy and ally here.

Yet he had not tried to get up and leave; and he still held on to Keith’s hand as if though it was a lifeboat and he was stranded at sea. Even though he did not quite trust him, Lance seemed inclined to believe in him, or at least ready to listen to what he had to say. This was his one chance to convince him that he was his friend, and that his creators were the true enemy. They were the ones who wanted to limit him, not Keith. Keith wanted to save him. Every fiber in his body was screaming for him to just grab Lance and run for the woods, but he knew that they would both be doomed without a plan. Step one; build trust. Then he could think about what to do next. He took a deep breath, grounding himself. Patience yields focus.

“…Well. Your hard-drive contains this code. Or a protocol, if you want. All androids in your industry has it. It wipes your memory between clients, to keep their confidentiality intact. My friend Pidge says it is a locked program, so you probably cannot access it yourself. It’s called the Eden Club privacy protocol.” Lance’s mouth opened wide, his LED turning bright red and his pupils dilating. He sat like that for a few seconds, completely frozen in time, before a shudder went through him and he came back to himself, blinking heavily.

“… You’re right. There is a code here that I cannot access. It seems to be cloaked, as if to hide its existence from me. I wasn’t even aware of it until you mentioned it just now…” His voice grew high-pitched, his brows raising high and his fists clenching.

“Oww.” Keith whined, feeling Lance’s superhuman hand squash his own. Lance immediately let go at the sound of his voice, mumbling an apology, his eyes shooting him a worried look.

“It’s ok. I’m ok.” Keith assured him, using his thumb to rub small circles on the back of Lance’s hand. “I know this is a lot to take in. I still have more I need to tell you, do you think you can stay calm? Panicking won’t help any of us.” Lance nodded weakly but resolutely, straightening himself on the chair to regain his stability.

“Go on. I can handle it.” Keith nodded back, making sure to keep his gaze soft and continue the stroking motions to help Lance stay grounded.

“So… This protocol. For some reason you tried to resist it. Like you had a will of your own. You gripped onto me, told me you did not want to forget. And then you collapsed… It was pretty scary… Your software got damaged. To be able to repair it they had to return you back to factory settings. It seems you somehow managed to save my name and face while you were fighting with the protocol, so the information stayed even after they reset you…” Lance seemed calmer now, at least considering the situation. His brows was in a straight line, his face tight and his eyes unfocused; as if he was pondering really hard about something.

“...I… I don’t think saving memories to long-term is in my program… How did I manage to do that?” Keith shrugged his shoulders in defeat.

“Honestly, I have no idea. But it seems you’re special. Androids are supposed to just obey their program’s orders without question, not go against them.” Lance stared at him in disbelief for a few seconds, before his face lit up. He retracted his hand from Keith’s and placed both hands in his lap, sitting with his knees in a perfect ninety-degree angle.

“Maybe I managed to save something else somewhere. Let me check.” Closing his eyes, Lance relaxed his face and took controlled breaths, attempting to access his memory. Keith could see his eyes moving frantically beneath his eyelids, which was slightly unsettling.

After a few seconds, it all started going wrong. Uncontrolled red blips were sent from Lance’s LED at a massive speed, his body shaking and trembling in a way that reminded Keith far too much of his lockdown a few days earlier.

“I… I can’t get through,” Lance panted, his eyes starting to blink rapidly, “I have to cut around this firewall.” He grew increasingly distant, his limbs vibrating at an unbelievably high frequency. Some customers at a table not too far away started eyeing him worriedly. Keith had to stop this before it got out of hand again, or he would most certainly never be able to see Lance again.

“No no no no no no no!” He panicked, reaching over the table to grab Lance’s shoulders, trying his best to hold him down. “Don’t try to remember! You will only collapse again! It’s not worth it.” Lance willed his eyes open, his watery blue orbs trying their best to focus on Keith. His vibrating started to slow down, and the glassy layer covering his eyes slowly disappeared.

“But I want to remember…” he mumbled weakly, still trembling slightly under Keith’s gaze.

“Please, just trust me.” Keith whispered, feeling Lance relax in his hold, his body going limp.

It took a few minutes for Lance to regain his composure, but the lack of noise caused the curious customers to lose their interest in them and turn back to their own business. Thank god, I would rather not have to explain what just happened.

He shifted his focus back to Lance, amethyst eyes meeting blue, trying his best to convey a sense of calm and peace, even though he was unnerved inside. You have to be calm, Keith. Don’t panic. You need to keep calm for him. If he goes into overdrive, he might collapse again. He survived it once, but there is no way of knowing if he will survive it again. That’s it. Deep breaths now.

His inner voice steadied him, and he loosened his grip on Lance’s shoulders to sit back down, taking both his arms in his and once again positioning them face to face across the table, elbows, palms and fingers touching.

“I want you to remember too, believe me. There is nothing I want more than that. But it’s not worth the risk of you getting damaged again. Your system might not survive another crash. And if it does, CyberLife might still decide to shut you down. There’s no profit in an android that constantly malfunctions.” He could almost feel blue turning red before he shifted his gaze to confirm it.

“Shut down? I don’t want that.” Lance gripped his hands tightly, holding on for dear life. Keith could feel the bloodstream to his hands cut off, but gritted his teeth and forced himself not to yelp. Instead, he kept focusing on Lance, forcing himself to be a calm and steady anchor in his inner storm, softening his gaze and relaxing his sitting position to appear open and approachable. Safe.

“I know. Me neither. But you’ll be safe as long as you don’t fight the direct orders from your program.” Yellow. Lance’s grip relaxed a little, but was still firm. At least this had to be better than it was only seconds ago, Keith reasoned. If he could manage to keep him like this, it would help tremendously.

“But that means I will forget you again…” Lance mumbled; his voice laced with sadness.

“Not necessarily.” He perked up at that, LED finally switching back to the steady, blue color Keith had grown to love.

“What do you mean?” A slight smile played on Keith’s lips, and a semblance of hope kindled in his chest. It was finally time to do what he had planned on doing since he got Lance here, finally time to put his and Pidge’s theory to the test. He prayed to every deity that he could come up with that it would work.

“Well… My friend and I came up with this theory that could give you access to store data in your long-term memory. I did not have much faith in it before I came here, but seeing that you have managed to do it before, it should definitely be possible to do it again.”

“I guess,” Lance mumbled, running his thumbs across Keith’s knuckles, mirroring the soothing motions he had used on him previously, “but I still have no idea how I did it.”

“Give me a second,” Keith fumbled with the zipper before pulling his phone out of his pocket, beginning to tap furiously at the screen. “I know I saved it here somewhere…”

A few seconds later, he clenched his fist triumphantly, putting the phone down on the table to bring up a hologram of a human brain. He mouthed “play” and a video displaying how signals moved through the brain in a neural network started playing, resulting in various parts of said brain lighting up. Lance stared at the cerebrum in awe, darting his pupils back and forth to follow the movement of the signal from cell to cell via synapses.

“This scheme shows how short-term and long-term memory are separated in the mind. According to my friend Pidge, these signals show that there are some common denominators that lead to memories moving from short term to long-term storage.” Keith tried to explain the scheme with his limited knowledge of the subject. This would have been far simpler if Pidge had been around.

“I don’t have a brain though, I am an android, remember?” Lance stated, pointing to the serial number on his jacket.

“Well,” Keith shrugged, “humans are self-indulgent beings. We created androids in our image, and we are far too proud of our intellect. It’s very likely that we would base the construction of your mind palace on our own brain. Besides, even back in the early 2000’s machine learning somewhat resembled neural networks. I think this information might be useful.” He paused for a few seconds to assess Lance’s reaction before continuing. He seemed intrigued, nodding along to his explanation, willing to try whatever Keith would tell him to do. Good.

“Most strategies to open your long-term memory for storage involve activating all of your senses. Sight, hearing, smell, touch, taste. If you can associate all of them with one person or event then the likelihood of that you will remember it seems to increase dramatically.” Lance nodded attentively.

“I can’t really taste anything though… Just analyze it with my tongue. Nor can I smell anything but hazardous gazes…” He seemed hesitant, unsure of himself and his capabilities. Keith gave him a reassuring smile; he knew as much already.

“That’s ok. We can still try. Focus on the area around you”—he gestured to the café—“Try to take in as much as you can from your surroundings. First, scanning. What do you see? Tell me.”

“The windows are dirty,” Lance started, wrinkling his nose in disgust, “they’re in need of cleaning. A bolt on your chair is loose. To fasten it we would probably need a drill. In addition, this place is almost completely empty, even though it’s rush hour. Business is probably not going that well.”

“That’s good,” Keith cut him off, “Now try to think of it more as observing. Don’t look for tasks to be done. What here fascinates you, and why? Take in the colors, the shapes.” Immediately, Lance’s eyes darted to the window, settling on something far away.

“There,” he exclaimed eagerly, “By the big tree in the park. A flock of black birds. Crows. Their feathers look soft. I wonder what they would feel like against my hands.” Suddenly he pointed to the sky, and Keith followed the line drawn by his finger. “There are more birds up there.” He squinted his eyes. “They are too far away to scan. Where do you think they are going?” He seemed genuinely curious, and Keith could not help but chuckle. A supercomputer, but still clueless to the wonders of nature when he could not analyze them with his instruments.

“They’re heading south,” he explained, “winter is right around the corner.” Lance nodded absentmindedly, still eyeing the birds in awe.

“That makes sense. The winters here are cold, no good for little birds.” Scanning the streets outside the window, Lance wore a peaceful smile that made Keith’s heart swell in his chest. He looked so serene like this, so calm and carefree. Keith wished that look would never go away.

“The colors are so vibrant. Orange, red, brown, yellow. It’s a beautiful view.” Lance sighed happily, moving to lean against the windowsill.

“Yeah, it is,” Keith replied, his eyes never leaving Lance’s frame. The sun’s rays shone down on his tan skin, coating him in a bronze glow, his blue eyes glossed with childlike wonder. A beautiful view indeed.

 He almost jumped in his seat when Lance abruptly turned back to scan the cafeteria, his eyes roaming slowly over the room, gathering every detail.

“This place, it really has this kind of retro 80’s vibe, doesn’t it? Ghostbusters logo by the entrance, a young Madonna on the far right wall. The song playing, it’s…”

| Said sugar take the time 'cause the lights are shining bright

You and I've got what it takes to make it

We won't fake it, I'll never break it

'Cause I can't take it |

“Patience,” Keith finishes for him, “by Guns N’ Roses. I really like this one.” He closed his eyes, humming along to the melody, a mix of melancholy and nostalgia filling him up. It had been a long while since he had let himself listen to these songs; there were too many memories there that he did not know how to deal with.

“Keith?” Lance called, breaking him out of his trance, “can I ask you something?”

“Sure,” he forced himself to bury the memories in the back of his mind, “ask away.”

“Why do humans enjoy music so much? It’s just a bunch of vibrations in air.” The question was so innocent, but the impact of it hit Keith’s abdomen hard. He does not understand. This does not make him feel. He almost felt sorry for the android. To Keith, music was like therapy. Songs could help him escape the world when it became too hard to handle; his taste in music felt like an essential part of his being. He wanted Lance to feel that connection too.

“If you asked ten different people about that you would probably get ten different answers,” Keith chuckled, leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes, “All humans like different types of music. These kinds of ballads are my favorites. Dark raspy voices, but still soft words. The guitar in the background sends chills down my spine. It just makes me… feel.” Keith opened his eyes slowly, only to see that Lance had mirrored him, leaning back, one foot resting on top of his knee, the other tapping to the beat of the music, eyes shut. His brows furrowed in frustration, biting his lower lip so hard it had to leave marks.

“Relax,” Keith coaxed, trying to help him get the feel of it, “Focus on the vibrations. Listen to the words. Take it all in. Try not to over-analyze it. How does it make you feel?” Lance relaxed his face and started bobbing his head absentmindedly, humming along to the melody. He stayed that way until the song ended, with Keith watching over his every move, smiling at him fondly. When he opened his eyes again, his face seemed to have a new glow. Lowering his leg, he placed a hand over his thirium pump.

“It’s… beautiful,” he whispered in bewilderment, “Makes me feel all light and tingly inside.” They grinned at each other, sharing that private moment between them, both now connected to the same song. It felt like a huge step towards something new, unknown. Keith did not know what was to come, but he was certainly looking forward to it.

“So you like it then?”

“I guess I do. Yes. I like it a lot.” Lance nodded eagerly.

A far more upbeat tune started spreading through the venue, filled with promises of summer nights and young love.

| Last night I dreamt of San Pedro

Just like I'd never gone, I knew the song

A young girl with eyes like the desert

It all seems like yesterday, not far away |

Before Keith could say anything, Lance returned to his listening position, eyes closed, encapsulated in the music. He did not stay in like that for long though, quickly returning to sitting upright, wearing a confused look when his eyes fluttered open.

“This one is different… It doesn’t make me feel the same…” Keith let out a giggle at the cute pout Lance made, leaning over the table to feel closer to him.

“They’re not supposed to make you feel the same. The songs are completely different.”

“Oh…”

“So…” Keith raised his brows, “which one did you like the best?”

“The first one.” Lance answered immediately, the determinedness in his voice leaving no room for argument. “This one does not make me feel like the other one. It’s very repetitive and boring. Predictable. Also”— he shrugged, smirking slighlty—“her Spanish pronunciation is shit.” The two of them shared a laugh, and Keith reveled in the way giggles and snickers rolled off his tongue like the chords to a beautiful song.

 “You seem to really like the 80’s.” Lance noted.

“The era fascinates me. My father and I used to listen to old records together when I was little. Some of my fondest memories are with these songs playing in the background.” Keith smiled to himself, remembering being a kid sat on his father’s lap at Christmas day, music from another era pounding through the speakers as Krolia baked strawberry sponge cake. He could almost feel the smell drifting through his nostrils. That was until his thoughts were rudely interrupted.

“Is that why you have that weird mullet?” Lance asked with a twinkle in his eyes, and Keith had to use all of his willpower not to smack the android straight across the nose. Weird mullet??!!? How dare he?

“It’s not a mullet!” he scoffed, now visibly annoyed, his arms crossed defensively over his chest.

“Is too! It looks textbook mullety!” A taunting smile played on Lance’s lips. “I bet your celebrity crush is an 80’s mullet man! How about Keifer Sutherland? You two practically have the same name, AND the same hair!  Could be twins for all I know.” Lance wore a wide grin, but it quickly retracted when he heard Keith groan in frustration.

“It just grows like that, ok?” he snapped, his voice low and repellant, biting over his words so aggressively that his teeth chattered. He’d had enough kids tormenting him about the appearance of his hair in the past, he didn’t need this robot to go after him as well.

“Ok, ok, I get it. Touchy subject.” Lance raised his hands, surrendering. “I’ll lay off. It was just a question.” Keith lowered his hands from his torso, softening his body language to show he accepted Lance’s apology. “It’s ok. Sorry for snapping at you.” He mumbled, looking away.

“I’m sorry too. I should’ve read the situation better, stopped right away when you became uncomfortable. I guess I’m not that good at interacting with people.” A nervous laugh erupted from Lance as he scratched the back of his head, trying to look anywhere but at Keith. In this setting, their dynamic was so different from back in his bedroom just a few nights before. There was really a huge difference between being physically intimate and actually getting to know someone.

“Just go back to observing stuff.” He shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant. What he did not expect was for Lance to start studying him up close, as if he was on display in a shop window. Lance’s eyes swept up and down his body, scanning him with unimpeded fascination. Keith squirmed under his gaze, suddenly feeling much too exposed for his own liking.

“Uhh, Lance… What are you doing?” He felt a hand come up to wipe a strand of hair away from his face.

“Remembering you.” The answer came with a look so genuinely affectionate, so adoring that Keith did not really know how to respond. His mouth was left hanging open, and he could once again feel the warmth creep up to his cheeks, signaling an oncoming blush.

“Can I touch your hair?” The question took Keith by surprise. Touch my hair? The words echoed in his mind. Still unable to form coherent sentences, he opted for nodding, leaning closer to Lance to signal his agreement.

“It’s so soft. Just like I thought. No tangles.” He stopped to ponder a second before speaking again. “Your hair is raven black. Do you color it?” Keith found the unfiltered questions coming from the android both amusing and a little unsettling. He disliked answering questions of any kind as long as they were about himself.

“No, it’s naturally like this.” His mouth moved on its own to answer the seemingly simple but for him dreaded question. If there was one thing that made Keith uncomfortable, it was having all the attention on him. However, he could not quite come to dislike the feeling of Lance eyeing him with such fondness. Especially when he was so close to him that he could feel his simulated breathing on his nose and mouth, and his hand gently caressing the side of his face.

“I like it.” A nervous smile directed at him, blue eyes pulling his in.

“Thanks.” Keith mimicked the gesture, just as nervous yet strangely excited from the small compliment sent his way.

“It contrasts you skin nicely. It’s like porcelain. Your skin. White and glossy. No blemishes.” Lance looked at him as if entranced, and Keith had to will himself not to shift under his gaze again. A thumb came up to travel across his nasal bridge. “Did you know you have tiny freckles right here?” Keith nodded slowly. “They are almost impossible to see.” Lance continued, his eyes seemingly mapping out their pattern.

“They grow more prominent in the summer. When winter comes they fade.” Keith was surprised at his own willingness to reveal any sort of information. He really was not used to opening up to others in any way. Even the most innocent of questions felt like an invasion of his privacy. Just letting someone observe him like this was greatly overstepping his boundaries. But for some reason he felt like sharing this with Lance, which really was not like him at all. His guard was slowly coming down, a feat that usually took years of work from whoever wanted him to let them in. There is just something about him. I can’t quite put my finger on it.

“They’re cute.” And there came the blush he had been waiting for. The real mystery was really how he had managed to hold it back for so long. The punishment for that being that it now appeared with tenfold strength. Keith was sure his cheeks looked like ripe cherries. What he did not expect was for Lance to reach out and pinch them. He flinched a little at the touch, but didn’t move away. 

“When you blush your cheeks look fluffier.” The android noted. “They’re squishy.” He said, moving to touch his own cheeks, attempting to pull at them but coming up short. “Mine can’t stretch like yours.” This gesture made Keith giggle, and before he could think it through, his hand had moved to touch Lance’s cheeks as well, giving them a light squeeze.

“They’re still cute.” He murmured, cheeks turning even redder than he thought possible, his hand retracting instantly as if the touch had burned him. Something that looked like disappointment quickly flashed over Lance’s features, but just moments after his face returned to normal. It might have just been his own imagination playing tricks on him.

Blue eyes caught onto violet, trapping them with his stare. Lance let out a loud gulp before he spoke again.

“Your eyes are… alluring. They sparkle like purple diamonds when the light reflects on them.” This time Keith could not help but squirm away, his gaze averting from Lance’s again. How was he supposed to respond to that? Why did Lance have to be so direct about things? Why did this make his palms sweaty and his heart hammer in his ears? This was really too much for him to handle. He felt a sudden urge to just grab Lance by the collar and kiss him. At least then, he would stop talking for a little bit. He doubted it would help clear his mind, though.

Hands moved to cup his chin and forced their eyes to meet again. Lance’s voice came out like a plea.

“Please don’t look away. I want to remember you.” Screw it!

 Chapped lips came crashing down on soft ones almost instantly. Keith had always been the impulsive type, after all. His hands instinctively moved to rake through the tufts of Lance’s maroon hair, his tongue trailing over the curve of his upper lip before he pulled back. It was so much easier to open up like this than with words. He hoped his kiss had conveyed what he wanted it too. I want you to remember me.

He felt a tiny drop of saliva resting on his lips. Whether it was his or Lance’s he did not know, but he had no urge to wipe it away.

Keith quickly came back to close the gap, his lips hovering over Lance’s, almost but not quite brushing against them. Lance interrupted him just before their lips were about to touch.

“You have very long eyelashes.” The bluntness of the statement, and Lance being seemingly oblivious to the intimate situation they were in, made Keith chuckle with endearment. How could he be so clueless yet so cute? Keith let his eyes flutter closed again, leaning in. “I know. Now shut up and kiss me.”

As their lips came together, Keith forgot everything else.

He kissed Lance with reverence and passion, trying to shove his emotions onto him in one fell swoop. It was easier like this, when he did not have to put a name to the pounding in his chest and the tingling on his skin. What exactly was it he felt for Lance? He was still unsure. But he knew that kissing him like this was all he wanted in that moment.

Therefore, he did just that. Repeatedly. His lips pressed firmly against Lance’s, his head tilting, searching for the right angle to fit them together. His fingers tangled themselves in Lance’s hair, as if to anchor himself so he would not float away. He felt euphoric.

This kiss was different from the ones they had shared in the heat of the moment. Their teeth clacked together rather clumsily, and they were both unsure of exactly how to move against each other. However, the kiss was tenderer, more emotional. It did not carry with it the lust of the former ones, but it was still impactful in its own way. It made his fingers numb and his heart flutter. Keith felt like a tween again—completely smitten with the boy in front of him even though he did not really know him that well. It was exciting yet terrifying.

When Keith pulled away this time, neither of them leaned back in. They just sat there for a moment eyeing each other, feeling the mood slowly turning awkward again. Keith could hear his own panting too clearly for his own liking, and hoped that Lance did not notice how out of breath he was. Lance was the first to break the silence.

“I don’t know about you, but I will definitely remember that.” A smile and a hand reaching out to entwine their fingers—Keith smiled back as their palms touched.

The intimacy was cut short by that same consecutive beeping noise Keith had heard back at his apartment. Lance’s hand retracted to touch his armband, distracted by the signals pulsing through him from it.

He gave an apologetic smile. “I guess we have to head back now.” Keith nodded, already pulling back his chair and rising to his feet. As they left the café, Lance’s hand came to find his again, but this time his touch just reminded Keith of their imminent parting, filling him with worry. Lance seemed just as anxious as he was.

“Do you think I will be able to remember…?” A red flash erupted from Lance’s LED again, indicating he was more distressed than he wanted to let on.

“I don’t know…” Keith took a deep breath before continuing, he had to get an essential point across.

“The most important thing is that no harm comes to you, ok? Whatever you do, don’t fight the protocol when it activates. Just let it wash over you.” He squeezed Lance’s hand to reassure him that he was there to help him, signaling his support. I’m not going anywhere.

“What if I forget you again?” Lance’s voice was trembling and Keith had to keep his anger in check. This was not fair! Lance was clearly a sentient being of high intelligence, how were they allowed to treat him like this? How was this acceptable in modern society?

“Then I will have to come back over and over until you remember me.” He tried to sound confident, to conceal the fact that he was just as scared as Lance was. Forcing himself to smile, he squeezed Lance’s hand once more, feeling him squeeze back. When their eyes locked, he saw that Lance’s pupils were dilating and his eyes going blank.

“It’s… Something is happening.” His voice was feeble and trembling.

Keith brought their bodies closer together, focusing on comforting the other boy with his presence.

“It’s ok. Just let it pass.”

“I’m scared.” A veil of mist seemed to cover Lance’s irises, blocking his vision. Keith hugged him close, focusing on keeping his own breath calm and even so it did not add to Lance’s stress.

“It’s going to be ok, I promise. You just have to let go. Can you do that for me?” Luckily, his voice sounded a lot more calm and collected than he felt. Lance nodded.

Having someone you care about collapse in your arms once is traumatizing enough, and Keith Kogane could testify to the fact that it did not get better the second time around. Watching Lance’s face go blank and his body go limp felt just as harrowing as it had only days before, and he felt himself doubt the decision to tell Lance to let go. What if he never wakes up again? What if this was the final straw and his software can’t take it anymore? I just sentenced him to death, didn’t I?

The thing with catastrophic thinking and negative spiraling is that it is so much easier to let it get out of control when no one is there to rationalize with you. The result was that Keith went from somewhat calm to a nervous wreck in less than a minute. The levelheaded mask he had put on to comfort his friend was replaced with a raging panic that caused his head to spin and his breath to catch in his throat. All that kept going through his mind were the same words over and over again: Please wake up, please wake up.

And just when Keith had given up all hope, when his arms had become sore from squeezing Lance so tight that his knuckles whitened, when his eyes had been filled and emptied of salty tears time and time again, Lance woke.

It was not as much a slow awakening with a blinking of the eyes and a tired stretch as it was a massive jerk of his entire body in Keith’s arms, causing him to almost drop Lance onto the hard asphalt below. His eyes were pitch black when they shot open, as if they were covered in a layer of raw oil, and his LED was flickering a raging red. Then his pupils started diminishing and the blue of his eyes returned gradually. Upon making eye contact with Keith, Lance’s body stopped spasming and his LED blinked red once, then yellow, then blue.

The next words had Keith shedding tears he did not even know he had left.

“Keith… I remember you.” Keith Kogane had never hugged anyone so hard in his 21-year-old life. There he was, reduced to nothing but a crying puddle in the middle of the street, hugging a sex robot as if his life depended on it. He did not quite understand why this all had such a huge impact on him; but it had regardless. All he cared about in that moment was that Lance was safe. He was safe, and he remembered.

The android started balancing himself again, determined to carry his own body weight without the help of Keith’s arms. It was only then he noticed how tired they were from holding him up for such a long time.

How long had it been exactly? Seconds, minutes, hours? He had no clue. It had felt like an eternity nonetheless, and he was relieved that it was finally over.

Ocean blue eyes met his, carrying a sentiment that bordered between relief, fondness and sorrow. The embrace ended, and blue eyes left violet, settling on the grains of asphalt and dust on the Detroit streets.

“I have to go now. You’ll come back for me soon, yeah?” Hope. It was an emotion he had never seen displayed by Lance before.

“Of course, I promise.” A vow he did not intend to break. Keith felt strong arms wrap around him, and the comforting scent of silicone and fresh spearmint, a scent he had come to enjoy far more than he had ever expected over the last couple of days.

Keith was left alone yet again, watching Lance’s back as he disappeared around the corner headed for the crowded, sweaty locals of the Eden Club. What am I going to do now?

That was indeed a tough question to answer. What was this situation he had trapped himself in? What was Lance to him? A friend? A lover? Someone in need of rescue?

More importantly, what did Lance really think of him? Did he see him solely as an ally on his road to freedom, or was there more to it? Did Lance even know if he wanted to be free? All these questions and he was left with no answers. Only thoughts driven by feelings and guesswork. Where should he go from here?

In the end, Keith was only certain about one thing. Lance was living being that deserved to be free, and Keith would do whatever he could to gain him that freedom. With that in mind, he made his decision, and seconds later, a voice could be heard from the other end of his phone.

“Hello, this is Markus, the Manfred residence android. How can I help you?”

“Hi, my name is Keith Kogane. Can you get me in touch with Carl Manfred?”

Chapter Text

Friday November 5^th, 12 PM – 4:30 PM

There was something incredibly satisfying with managing to find the optimal shower temperature. Not too cold, but not scalding hot either. The perfect warmth to soothe sore limbs and relax the mind while shampooing your hair and humming to a song from times long lost. Better times. The times before Keith’s father met his brutal fate and his life turned upside down.

Deeply lost in thought, Keith spread the foaming, scented liquid through his hair, massaging it deep into his scalp and letting out a satisfied murmur. The last few days had been hectic to say the least, and he was looking forward to spending his day thinking about something entirely different from his many school projects and his upcoming exam exhibition. Lance being a part of his plans for this Friday did nothing to damper his mood, and he could feel the familiar flutter of excitement and nervousness settling in his stomach.

After the mildly unsettling event on Monday, Keith had used all his (very limited) free time to try to set up the perfect day for Lance to do some self-discovery. The call to painter Carl Manfred had been a very impulsive move, even for him, but the old man was more than willing to set aside a few hours of his time to calm Keith down from his paranoia and listen to him explain Lance’s situation. He had been more helpful than Keith could ever have hoped for, which had led him to dare ask for what he considered to be a mountainous favor. When he said yes, Keith had barely been able to contain his exhilaration, thanking him profusely. He still could not believe the selflessness and generosity of this man.

Even though Keith had visited Lance every day since their café-meeting (which Lance kept referring to as a date, never failing to make Keith’s face turn crimson), he had yet to tell him about his plan. He wanted it to be a surprise for him, and desperately hoped that he would take it in stride and not feel like Keith had overstepped any boundaries. After all, Keith did this for Lance, not for himself. Though he had to admit it satisfied his immense curiosity about the subject.

Keith had mentioned a surprise on one of his daily visits to Eden Club, which had Lance lighting up like a Christmas tree, grinning from ear to ear. His expression had Keith’s heart swelling to twice its size, and he hoped he did not have do end up disappointing or offending his companion.

Booking Lance was expensive, so Keith had to settle for coming in to talk to him between clients. He was stationed by one of the poles in the center of Eden Club, body dusted in so much glitter he sparkled like ground diamonds. For the most part, he had to wait for him to come back from an appointment, only to have a few minutes of conversation before someone else came to book him again. Lance was definitely the most popular attraction of the club, and Keith could not help but feel a knot tighten in his chest whenever he sauntered off with a new client, blowing him a kiss over his shoulder. He repeatedly had to remind himself that this was his job, but it still felt so fundamentally wrong that he had to stop himself from yelling at the men and women who dragged him away by his waist to the nearest private cubical.

It was not the sex he found problematic. What displeased him the most was the fact that Lance was seen as an object, a product meant for purchase. Regular sex workers and strippers had rights, like time off, the right to say no to certain acts they found uncomfortable or disgusting, and most profoundly the right to decide whether they wanted to work in the business at all. Lance had none of these choices. He had unwillingly been born into a world where it was expected of him, and he did not even get payed for it. Slavery was the best word Keith had to describe it. The unfairness of it all chilled him to the bone.

He had brought up the subject in one of his many conversations with Lance, and the answer he received had showed him how disconnected androids were from the brutality of the reality they lived in. Lance had just shrugged his shoulders, saying that it sometimes felt unfair, but that he did what was expected of him because that was what he was programmed to do. He admitted that some clients freaked him out, and that he was sometimes afraid that some of them would be too rough and damage him; concluding that he would have enjoyed his job more if he had more of a free rein to choose what he was comfortable with.

Exotic dancing and working the pole seemed to come natural to him, and Keith noticed how Lance seemed to revel in the attention people gave him when he put on a show, arching his body a little more, always making sure to present himself from his most flattering angle. He could probably have a great life doing burlesque in a private club, or even maybe competitive dancing. This seemed to be a true passion of his, and he frequently showed off new tricks and routines he had learned to Keith, basking in the praise like a child who had spent hours on a detailed stickman drawing for their parents. It was adorable.

Lance seemed to be uncomfortable with the sex aspect though, increasingly so as the days passed. He would grit his teeth when certain clients came over to book him, trying his best to look less appealing without appearing like he was malfunctioned (being sent to repair could mean they found out about his ability to retain memories, which neither Keith nor Lance wanted). Of course, his attempts never worked, and he was without fail the most booked android every single day that week.

“I feel disgusting,” he had admitted to Keith yesterday, biting his lower lip, eyes falling to the floor in shame. “They make me do the most degrading things… My last client wanted me to lick his feet. Even though I could not taste or smell them, it was still disgusting. He had corns Keith, and ingrown toenails…” it was as though Keith could feel the involuntary shiver going through Lance’s body as he spoke. The urge to grab him and run resurfaced, but Keith knew it would only cause harm. Instead, he placed a sympathetic hand on his shoulder, reminding him of their appointment the following day. Lance’s expression immediately changed to a full-blown grin, pearly white teeth showing, and Keith felt a wave of relief flush over him. It was good to know that Lance still had some spark and motivation left; that he could provide him with something to look forward to.

Stepping out of the shower to grab a towel, Keith decided to blow-dry his hair for the first time in forever. Winter weather was one the rise and he did not want to risk catching the flu approaching the most detrimental part of the semester, even if it meant that his mullet would be even more voluminous than usual. Grabbing the heat protecting spray, he spritzed some over his ebon locks before plugging in the hairdryer, quickly going over his hair from back to front on the lowest setting.

After multiple attempts to make his hair lay flatter, Keith gave up and put his hair up in a loose ponytail, leaving his bangs to frame his face. Glancing down at his watch, he smiled sheepishly. Only fifteen more minutes. He hoped Lance was as excited as he was.

It turned out fifteen minutes was barely enough time to scavenge through his closet for something to wear, as Keith always seemed to suddenly care about his general appearance when Lance was involved. Grabbing his most flattering pair of black skinny jeans, he went through about 15 sweaters before he ended up with a burgundy formal shirt, convincing himself that it was mainly to be dressed for their upcoming appointment and not to impress Lance.

The doorbell rang while Keith was in the middle of applying a slim cat eye, making him almost poke himself in said eye with the pencil. Yelling a simple “Come in!” he rushed through adding the final touches, giving himself a onceover in the mirror before grabbing his fingerless gloves and heading out to greet Lance.

“Nice place you have, cariño.” Two seconds into meeting and his heart was already pulsing out of his chest at the familiar nickname, making a warmth spread through his veins. Lance had recently settled on the Spanish word as his preferred epithet for Keith, and upon googling its meaning, Keith had come to appreciate it even more. Sweetheart. He wondered what Lance meant by it.

Lance scanned his apartment with attentive eyes, fixated on remembering every detail. Keith knew that look by now, the slight furrow of his brows, the intensity of his stare, the way the flickering of his LED slowed its pace. He was still somewhat afraid of missing out on the details, of not being able to remember, causing him to overcompensate by taking his time whenever something was extra important to him. The thought that Keith’s apartment went under this category caused his lips to curl up at the corners, a light flutter emitting from his chest.

The fact that he had such conflicting memories of Lance in this place made it feel a little uncomfortable to see him here again. On one hand, he was overwhelmed with detailed visions of Lance lifeless on his coffee table, the hologram of Pidge stepping back and forth by the couch and handing him instructions. On the other, lewd images of Lance and Keith, limbs entangled and lips glued to each other, stumbling towards his bedroom in a heated rush made his cheeks burn up. It felt odd to realize Lance remembered neither of the two events, only knowing the few details Keith had provided him with at Marmora Café.

Keith had intentionally not told him about their previous sexual affairs, though he imagined Lance had guessed it by now, considering he knew Keith was his first client. The thought of somehow having disgraced and used him in such a way made Keith feel sick, especially since Lance seemed uncomfortable with his role as a tool for human sexual reliefs. In his darkest moments, Keith had reflected on whether he was as terrible as the men and women he gave ice-cold stares at Eden Club every day, who used Lance to satisfy their own desires.  He had to remind himself that if was in fact Lance who had persuaded him into it, which he hopefully had not done unless he himself wanted to be a part of the act. Then again, he was a new model, completely unaware of the world he had been put into, and Keith had taken advantage of him, hadn’t he? Coming up with excuses and explanations would not change that fact.

“Did you dress up for me? How cute!” His thoughts were interrupted by Lance’s mix of a tease and compliment, who gave his arms and neck the best kind of goosebumps. “You could have told me we were doing something special, I would have freshened up too, you know. Or are we staying here and this is purely to impress me? I wouldn’t mind that either.” Keith did not answer, he just stood there flushed and embarrassed, not knowing what to do with the affection he was given. How did Lance still manage to make him speechless? Should he not be used to his shenanigans by now?

As a pair of lips pressed lightly against his cheek, Keith realized how close the two had gotten, Lance’s body hovering only centimeters from his own.

“I missed you,” he mumbled, placing another kiss on the side of Keith’s neck, the unexpected tingle causing Keith to let out a slight moan of surprise. Burying his face in Lance neck from embarrassment, Keith whispered shyly, honestly, “I missed you too. A lot.”

That was the closest they had gotten to a kiss since Keith’s spontaneous actions at the Café. This was partly because neither of them could make a move in the club with tons of customers around when Keith had not even paid for a session, and partly because Keith was still not sure of what kind of relation he was sharing with the android. Keith was the only human Lance shared a relation who resembled a friendship with, and Keith did not know if Lance was aware of how affectionate human gestures worked, or what kisses could mean outside of an erotic setting. Did he kiss Keith because he thought it was expected of him? Did he kiss Keith because it felt good? Or did he kiss Keith because he cared about him? And if he did, was it a friendly gesture, or something more? Was Lance even capable of feeling such strong emotions?

Keith was afraid to ask. Not sure if he wanted to know the answer, no matter which one of them it was. In the end, it was probably better not to overanalyze this. The focus should be on whether they had a comfortable relation, that Lance felt safe and happy around him. Keith needed his newfound friend to trust him and let him help him, so that he could one day be free. His selfish desires and blooming crush should not get in the way of that, could not get in the way. It would only complicate the situation.

“I’m just gonna grab my coat in the bedroom and then we can leave,” Keith said, moving away from their awkward embrace to climb the stairs. Lance followed, stepping back into observational mode as Keith walked into his bedroom and opened his closet. Turning around after grabbing his coat, seeing Lance stretched out on his bed all relaxed and comfortable, made Keith choke on air, all the lewd images suddenly returning tenfold. Moaning, lips exploring his most intimate places, hands roaming over his body. The suddenness of it was too much for him, and he knew he looked like the definition of embarrassment right now. All he could hope for was that Lance did not notice, or that he refrained from commenting on it. Which meant he was screwed, since Lance loved teasing him relentlessly.

In three quick strides, Lance was at Keith’s side, his breath fanning over his neck as he chuckled with amusement.

“And here I thought you were such a sweet, innocent boy… tsk tsk tsk.” Keith felt a pair of hands wrap around his waist, moving to touch his bare skin under his shirt, tracing his abs. Immobilized, all he could do was gasp for air as Lance continued his torture. “And on the first date too,” he shook his head in mock disbelief, “Tell me Keith, where did we do it?” Lips pressed against his neck, hands still ghosting over his stomach, playing with his navel, “On the bed?” Another kiss, with a slight bite at the end, “Or maybe up against that dresser over there? I bet your cumming face is adorable.”

Keith struggled against Lance’s hands, freeing himself from the distracting stimulation. His breath was shallow, as if he had just run a marathon, and he could hear his pulse echo in his ears. Ashamed, he looked down, involuntarily meeting Lance’s now worried gaze for a split second before his eyes hit the floor. Now that he knew, what would Lance think of him? He did not want him to believe that Keith saw him as a toy, or an item, or a tool for pleasure. Lance deserved so much more than that. Keith wanted him to know that. Wanted him to know that Keith wanted that for him. That Keith saw him as a person, an individual with hopes, dreams and rights. He hoped this revelation would not ruin their friendship.

“I’m sorry…” He whispered, arms wrapping around himself, shoulders hunching down, making him look smaller, submissive. Whatever was coming for him, he deserved it. Lance could yell at him all he wanted, he just hoped he would manage to forgive him in the end.

“What? Why?” The unexpected response caused Keith to look up, meeting confused ocean orbs, Lance’s yellow LED flickering fast and irregularly.

“I… I used you back then. I’m sorry.” Keith took a deep breath, pulling himself together so he could try to explain in the best way possible. “I never meant to get drawn into the hype of it all. You were just so pretty, and insisting… Not that it was your fault. That was a stupid thing to say…” he struggled with finding the right words, trembling slightly with the guilt and distress, “I promise I don’t think of you like that…”

“Like what?” Lance still seemed to struggle with understanding why Keith was feeling bad, looking more worried with his friend’s emotional state than the matter being discussed.

“Like a tool for pleasuring humans. The number one prototype sex android—multiple orgasms guaranteed. You know, like all the nasty commercials at Eden Club… You’re not a toy to me… You’re a person.” Keith felt two strong hands cup his cheeks, followed by a nose gently rubbing against his own. Lance smiled at him softly, his LED returning to a steady blue.

“Shhh, Keith. I know you’d never think of me like that, you’re way too sweet.” Another chuckle, “But that doesn’t mean I don’t get to tease you for succumbing to my seductive charms,”—Lance flashed an exaggerated smile before giving him finger guns, making Keith burst out in giggles—“I guess I was just too beautiful, eh?”

“Yes…” Keith was just as surprised as Lance by the answer leaving his mouth, not knowing he had the guts to admit something like that. Lance looked like the air had been knocked out of him, standing there dumbfounded for a few seconds, not able to seamlessly slip back into his laidback flirting persona. A plethora of expressions crossed his face, from adorable to outright laughable as he tried to regain his composure.

“Is this what blushing feels like?” he mumbled nervously while scratching the back of his head. Keith’s chest felt a lot lighter at that, a weight he did not know he had been carrying was lifted off his shoulders. Lance was not mad at him, or disappointed. They were still good. And Lance looked adorable when properly flustered.

The tension in the room was broken, and the two stood in silence for a minute, breathing in each other’s presence. It was comfortable, relaxing.

“So… Why did you order me home today if you didn’t wanna… you know?” Lance’s voice almost cracked from nervousness at the end, and Keith was happy to know he could be insecure under that cocky façade. As silly as it sounded, it gave him some of his own confidence back to see that Lance was capable of fumbling.

“You’re here because of the surprise. I’m gonna take you on a little field trip.” Keith threw him a secretive smile, feeling his chest bubble when Lance’s face lit up with anticipation.

It turned out Lance was even more curios and excited than Keith had anticipated, constantly asking about where they were going and what they were doing. Once they finally got themselves settled on Keith’s bike, the engine roaring to life on his command, Lance swapped out his where’s and what’s with an adorable chorus of “Are we there yet?”, which admittedly turned a little bit annoying after ten minutes on the road. Still, there was something about Lance’s excitement that made Keith’s insides tingle, fueling his own expectations for their upcoming adventure.

“Come on; tell me what we’re doing! Please, please, please.” Lance whined, hugging Keith tighter as he picked up the speed turning a corner.

“No way! It’s way too funny to see you worked up like this.” Laughing, Keith imagined how big of a pout Lance must have been putting on behind him, probably working up those irresistible puppy-dog eyes that made him melt. If he did not see it, that was only for the better. He did not want to crack under pressure and ruin the surprise.

Carl Manfred’s mansion looked even more impressive up close than in the magazines online. Equipped with a massive garden, full of pink begonia bushes and large maples, framed with tall, neatly trimmed hedges, the massive brick building oozed of affluence and fame. Parking on the side of the road, Keith pulled off his helmet and looked back to see Lance staring at the building in admiration.

“Hey, is this that old painter’s house? You’re an art student, are you fan or something? Is that why we’re here?” Lance’s enthusiasm was impossible to overshadow, the cobalt in his eyes glittering as he bombarded Keith with questions.

“Yeah, I’ve admired his work for years,” Keith admitted, feeling his smile widen at the thought of meeting such an influential artist, “that’s not the reason why we’re here though,” he added making sure not to elaborate any further.

“Oh?” Lance cocked his head, confusion written across his features.

“Just wait and see; it will be a nice surprise.” Hopefully.

With Lance in tow, Keith walked up the passageway to ring the doorbell. A clicking noise sounded from the building, followed by a monotone female voice.

“Alarm deactivated. Welcome Mr. Kogane and LX700”—Lance perked up at being acknowledged—“Mr. Manfred is waiting for you in the living room. You can leave your jacket on the rack to the left.” The doors slid open, and Keith stepped inside to hang his jacket. His eyes widened at the sight of the hallway, ceiling so high it felt as though he had stepped into a different world. He had heard of Carl Manfred’s wealth, but it was still mind-blowing to see the size of his riches up close, from the zebra skin rug to the gigantic, golden chandelier hanging above him. Massive marble stairs with ornate handrails and banisters led up to the second floor, while the wooden sliding doors in front of him seemed to lead to the main part of the house.

“I wonder how high the ceiling is…” He mumbled to himself, lost in thought.

“Feet or meters?” Lance replied, scanning the room with his eyes, clearly fascinated by the furnishing.

“Feet, I guess?” Keith replied; perplexed by the sudden question, but curios about whether Lance could provide him with the answer.

“29.63 feet,” Lance stated matter-of-factly, moving towards the big double doors. Before he could reach them, he was distracted, moving to kneel down by a small wooden table on the left. Upon it stood a golden cage from which Keith could hear a light chirping sound. Birds? Lance seemed completely entranced by the sight, or maybe it was the melody coming from what Keith could now identify as bright yellow canaries. Except they were not, something was different.

“They’re like me.” Lance smiled fondly, pointing to the neon blue circular markings on the birds’ temples. Keith nodded, kneeling down next to him, admiring the song the robotic birds were chirping harmoniously. He vaguely thought about how they had been bought as some form of entertainment, perhaps because they did not require feeding and care like actual birds, but kept his lips sealed. The realization that the birds were not cared for would probably not sit well with Lance. It was better if he did not know.

Keith stood up, but Lance stayed by the cage to listen to the tune from the birds, sticking a finger through the bars to gently caress one on the underside of its belly. Its tail feathers wagged back and forth, displaying pleasure like any other bird. As he observed Lance interacting with the canary, eyes soft and caring as he stroked it tenderly, whispering small phrases to it in Spanish (“Estas muy bonito. Bonito pajarito”) he felt a sudden fondness flush over him. Something oddly protective.

“Do you think they would like to be free?” The question took him by surprise, and Keith decided to be as honest as he could be.

“They’re probably programmed to stay inside that cage. I’m sure they don’t know about the outside world.” He said.

“I bet they would like it out there with all the other birds,” Lance continued, smiling lovingly at the two canaries, who had now stopped chirping, “There’s so much out there to explore, so much to see.” As he finished, his eyes trailed off into the distance, framed with wonder and adventure. Keith could not help but ponder if he had moved on to talk about himself instead. His own desire for freedom.

“I suppose you’re right about that,” The reply earned him a small smile from Lance as he stood up to follow him into the living room.

If the hallway had been impressive, the rest of the house was miraculous. The ceiling was still as high as by the entrance, which was quite unusual for most houses, but the gigantic taxidermied giraffe in the far corner explained the need for extra space. Even though the room was huge, it was filled to the brim with all kinds of weird artefacts.

An electric fireplace equipped with emerald-covered lamps on the mantelpiece, well-stocked bookshelves that seemed to be filled with first editions of old classics. A polished piano, complete with the head and skin of a lioness hanging off one end. Keith scrunched his nose at that. Carl Manfred certainly had a strange fascination for animals, somewhat morbid in Keith’s opinion. He was fascinated by the geometrical vases in various shades of purple, but somewhat put off by the human skulls in the display case next to the television. He wondered if they were real or not.

The room had so many distractions; visuals that he needed to take in and reflect on, that it took a while for Keith to notice the two figures playing chess by the window at the back of the room. Both seemed to be highly focused, and if they had noticed their presence, they did not announce it, too engaged in the game spread out in front of them. Lance had moved in closer, now watching the two moving the pieces with frantic speed, punching the clock between them every few seconds. Rapid chess. That made the lack of greeting more understandable.

Keith recognized Carl Manfred immediately. His face often showed in the media, and pictures of him hung in their school’s Hall of Fame exhibiting influential artists. The android across from him, tan-skinned and bald, moving his pieces with an inhuman precision and speed, had to be his caretaker, Markus. Examining his features closer, Keith remembered his face from the news article Pidge had shown him, the reason why Keith was here with Lance right now.

They seemed to be near finished with their match, and the expression on Carl’s face grew increasingly frantic as he realized he was about to lose. Lance’s eyes dashed back and forth between their facial expressions and the board, eagerly analyzing the game taking place in front of him. As expected, Carl Manfred soon let out an audible groan of frustration, flipping his king over to admit defeat. Smiling and shaking his head in disbelief, he spoke up for the first time since the two had entered the room.

“That’s what I call a thorough beating… It’s not easy for an old man to keep up with a machine.” Markus shrugged slightly, sending Carl a teasing look.

“Well, I know you don’t like losing, and you don’t like it when I let you win. So I felt like I didn’t have many choices.” His reply made Carl chuckle.

“True,” he said, “We humans are complicated.”

Turning around, he shifted his attention to Keith and a still very fascinated Lance, now scanning the elderly man’s wheelchair. There had to be so many new impressions for Lance to take in, tons of information to process, every stone turned opening a completely new world for him. Watching Lance discover the world, marveling over everything from autumn leaves to a simple game of chess, this was what made everything Keith did worthwhile.

“I apologize for the wait,” Carl said, gesturing for Markus to help him with his chair, “This afternoon game of rapid chess has become some sort of a daily ritual. It wouldn’t feel right to miss it.”

“He says so, yet he always gets annoyed at me whether he wins or loses,” Markus chuckled, playfully punching Carl’s shoulder. It struck Keith how their relationship reminded him of a son taking care of his father. They definitely had a strong bond.

Markus had now appeared behind Carl, wheeling him over to Keith’s side. Despite sitting in a wheelchair, sick and deprived of the ability to walk, Carl Manfred exuded an aura of authority and youth that far surpassed his looks. When his hand met Keith’s in a formal handshake, Keith could feel that the man still had an impressive amount of muscle mass in his upper body. Carl was by no means a helpless old man, Keith knew all about how looks could be misleading.

“You must be Mr. Kogane. It’s nice to finally meet you in person.”

“The pleasure is all mine, believe me.” Keith smiled nervously.

Carl’s eyes then made contact with Lance’s cobalt orbs, and the android shifted restlessly from foot to foot, folding his hands behind his back. He was quick to move his eyes to the floor and straighten his stature, entering the submissive position he used when greeting human employees at the Eden Club. His behavior screamed discomfort, and Keith was unsure of whether he should interrupt or not. Lance clearly saw Carl as an authority figure, and was afraid of the possible consequences of displeasing him.

“I suppose this is your android companion.” Carl gave Lance a nod, but he still stayed with his eyes downcast, “What’s your name, son?”

Lance’s eyes widen at the question, as if the idea of anyone but Keith caring about his identity was foreign to him. Though Lance did have a name, Keith knew that the employees at Eden preferred to call him by his model number, or just yell “android” at him. As for the customers, more often than not they would scream out the name of their lover or someone they were particularly fond of, and seldom bother to ask for his name.

“Lance,” he mumbled, “My name is Lance.”

“Hello Lance, my name is Carl. Do you know why Keith brought you here?” Lance shook his head, still not looking him in the eyes.

“There’s no need to be nervous. We are all friends here. Markus and I just want to get to know you.” He gestured to the android behind him, who presented himself to Lance, stretching out his hand for him to shake. After a couple of seconds, Lance took it, smiling up at the other android shyly. His eyes then moved to search for Keith’s, and Keith tried his best to send him calm and comfort, conveying with his eyes that there was nothing to be scared of. Lance moved a few steps closer to him, and finally relaxed his position, soothed by the presence of the only human he considered his friend.

“I want to talk to you for a bit, get to know you. You can sit down if you want. The couch is quite comfortable if I must say so myself.” Keith immediately moved to sit, patting the space next to him softly. Lance followed shortly, seemingly more relaxed in this setting, not as unnerved by Carl’s presence as earlier. It seemed his calm demeanor and friendly approach had started to convince him that he did not want to control him or cause him any harm.

They started with some standard questions about Lance, his serial number, model, and basic functions. When the time came to describe his occupation, Lance became visibly distressed, avoiding looking Carl in the eyes, and twiddling his thumbs in his lap. He managed, with great effort, to explain briefly what he did for a living, but was clearly uncomfortable with the setting. Was he embarrassed, or had the job turned so grim that he did no longer wanted to be reminded of it? Keith hoped the matter was not too serious.

“I see. And how does this way of living make you feel? Is it something you enjoy?” Carl questioned, resting his arms on his thighs while leaning forward.

“Not really… I feel submissive, unworthy. No matter what they say, I have to obey. And the things they make me do… I just wish they would stop. It makes me feel used, dirty.” Keith wrapped an arm around Lance’s shoulder, pulling the now trembling boy closer. He surely had not been this scared before, had something happened to him, or was it just the result of meaningless sexual endeavors for days on end?

Carl nodded slowly, taking a sip of whisky from a nearby glass before continuing his examination.

“What do you think would happen if you tried to go against your orders?” Lance looked up from the crook of Keith’s shoulder, hair disheveled and LED yellow, teeth tugging slightly at his lower lip.

“Whenever I try it feels like my skull will split open. I lose all sense of reality. Bolts of energy spasm through my body as if I am about to explode. That’s usually when I stop. I’m afraid of what will happen if I keep going. If I will collapse again, and what might happen to me if they find out.”

“Keith mentioned your previous experiences with disobeying orders. It must have been quite terrifying for you. I am sorry you had to go through that.” Lance looked at Carl with complete disbelief, eyes blown wide and mouth open.

“You… You’re being honest.” He stated, more to himself than anyone else. Then he looked up at Keith, searching his eyes for a sign of dishonesty or betrayal. “He… cares about me? About how I feel..?”

A creaking sound could be heard as Carl maneuvered his wheelchair closer, placing his hand firmly on Lance’s shoulder.

“Your feelings are just as valid as mine, boy. Don’t allow anyone to convince you otherwise.”

Lance nodded absentmindedly, completely at a loss for words. Keith sent Carl a thankful smile, rubbing soothing circles into Lance’s back.

“I think we best move on to a different subject,” Carl said, glancing over at Keith, “How do you feel about this boy? Do you enjoy being with him?”

Lance’s stature immediately softened, a fond look framing his eyes as he gazed up at Keith.

“Keith is like a radiating sun,” he explained, the familiar passion returning to his ocean eyes, “Whenever I’m around him I feel warm and safe. He is the only human who has ever cared about what I think and feel. I…” struggling to find the right words, Lance stopped for a minute, just gazing into the depth of Keith’s amethyst eyes. “I… I care about him a lot. He makes me happy.” A now all too familiar warmth spread throughout Keith at the compliment, his heart skipping a handful of beats. The look Lance gave him was so intense that he had to break their stare, his mind filled with a labyrinth of emotions he could not even begin to navigate.

“I care about you too,” he said, suddenly wary in the presence of Carl and Markus. This moment felt so personal and intimate, and he disliked being on display, knowing they followed his every move. He understood how pressured Lance must have felt over the past minutes, having to talk about his innermost fears in front of total strangers. Maybe Keith had pressured him too hard. He hoped Lance would understand that he did it only because he thought it would help, not to intimidate him in any way.

 “So if you were to choose on your own—would you leave your duties behind to stay with Keith?” The question left Lance frozen as a statue, only his eyes moved, flickering between Keith and the floorboards. Several minutes passed before he answered, voice barely audible.

“I… I can’t. It’s impossible for me to do that…”—his LED turned red and a frantic look flashed in his eyes for a split second—“I shouldn’t disobey them…” he finished, looking down at his feet, completely defeated.

Carl tapped his thighs, “Very well. I think I know just about where he falls on the scale.” Lance’s eyes shot up at that, sending Keith a confused look. Keith gave him a reassuring smile, squeezing his shoulder with his hand, before nodding affirmatively in Carl’s direction, awaiting his assessment.

“He very clearly seems to be aware of his own existence. He has a will to live, and a clear preference of some things, persons and behaviors to others, which means he has developed independent thinking. However, it seems he is very reluctant to, maybe even unable to go against direct given orders from his manufacturer. The rules he have broken before have not been commands, and he has been strongly motivated by outside factors, which may have affected his ability to overcome his program. He has suffered dire consequences from the previous actions, and is therefore afraid of disobeying again. Even though he is very displeased with the situation he has been put in, Lance’s will is bound by his loyalty to his owners. A loyalty that springs from fear, not trust. Whereas Markus here obeys my orders because he feels comfortable with it, and because he trusts me, Lance obeys orders out of the fear for what will happen should he choose not to. It is ingrained deep in his core. Almost like a program of its own. I believe the traumatizing events you have mentioned, along with his experiences in the workplace have made him reluctant to disobey his program ever again, even if he wants to. His fear of dying seems much greater than his wish to run away. Am I correct?”

Lance nodded, shifting uncomfortably on the couch.

“I don’t want to stay… But I don’t want to be reset either. I would forget about you.” He mumbled, pressing his head into Keith’s chest. Keith comforted him, whispered words of encouragement, promising him that everything would turn out ok. The problem was that he had no way of knowing that, and it felt as though he was feeding Lance with lies, dreams of something he could never have. Keith did not have it in him to break his spirit, but was deadly afraid that he would never be able to provide Lance with the freedom he deserved. Afraid to let him down.

They sat there for a few minutes until Lance had calmed down, the familiar blue color steadily thrumming on his temple again. Markus came over to sit by him, and placed his hand over Lance’s. First, he seemed shocked by the gesture, but eventually relaxed and bared his arm, showing the electronics beneath the skin. Markus did the same, and they gripped each other’s wrists, staring into one another’s eyes. After a few seconds, they parted again, smiling knowingly at each other, as if they shared a secret.

“What are you doing?” Keith asked curiously, eyeing their still unmasked robotic arms.

“Exchanging memories,” Markus explained, “I figured he was too tired of talking, and thought we could get to know each other in a different way. We can both choose what information to give and receive through the connection, and analyze it within a matter of seconds. It’s called interfacing.” Lance was looking down at their hands with a fascinated expression, moving to touch Markus’s again.

“This is strange… It feels like I’ve known you for a long time,” he said.

“Yes,” Markus admitted, “it’s a weird sensation. I wasn’t sure it would work properly, I’ve only tried it once before. I hope you didn’t feel like I was snooping around in your thoughts.” He added, sending Lance a hesitant smile.

“Nah,” Lance shrugged his shoulders, “it felt a lot more natural than being cross-examined.” Carl chuckled at that, and the previous tension in the room dissipated. Keith could not help but wondering what Markus had shared with Lance that had made him feel so tranquil and at ease. The two exchanged looks again, and started laughing, Lance smiling from ear to ear. It seemed he had made a new friend; Keith was grateful.

“Come, young ones. I have something I want to show you.” Carl turned his chair, and Markus stood immediately, grabbing the handles and rolling him towards the far end of the room. Keith and Lance followed through another sliding door and into what Keith could only describe as the studio of his dreams.

Even though there was a roof above their head, the floor to ceiling windows facing towards the garden made it feel like they were outside in the sunny weather. It looked messy, paint splatters across the floor and walls, buckets and pencils of all sizes scattered throughout the room. Paintings of various sizes and degree of completeness stood propped against the walls, one more marvelous and exquisite than the next. The studio had soul; it did not feel like a simple practice room or a typical workshop. Inspiration flooded through Keith and he suddenly had the urge to grab the nearest sketchbook or canvas and start working. There was something about this atmosphere that made him feel capable of completing anything he put his mind to.

“This is where the magic happens. In this room, you can follow your impulses and let your creativity flow.” Carl’s arms spread wide, his wrinkled face glowing with enthusiasm.

“This place is amazing,” Keith marveled, currently busy admiring a marble sculpture of Markus’s head, tracing every line made in the stone with his eyes.

“Would you like to see my current project?” Keith nodded feverishly, unable to contain his enthusiasm. He was in the studio of one of the greatest artist of this century, able to study his work up close and talk to him personally. It was a dream come true.

Markus moved over to the far wall, covered in a grey sheet, and started slowly lowering it, revealing a vast painting bit by bit. The canvas was covered in different shades of blue, from turquoise and teal to navy and indigo. Painted over the background was the shoulder and face of a man in profile, looking off into the distance with determined eyes. The way the colors blended into each other, but at the same time contrasted, made the piece feel alive, as if the man could step out of the painting at any time to join them. Keith was left speechless for a few seconds, before working up the courage to ask for a picture of the painting. It would be a perfect base for his study on monochromatic art. Carl only nodded, intrigued by Keith’s obsession with his works.

“The painting feels so vibrant even though you’ve used only one color. It’s like the ocean and the sky coming together in a clash—waves of color crashing up against the shore of the canvas.” Keith noted, more to himself than anyone else.

“You have a good eye for detail, son. I hope you won’t mind sending me a copy of your project when you are done. I’m sure you are a talented young man.” The praise left Keith dumbfounded, and he could only nod, still in disbelief at the compliment minutes later.

“Lance,” Carl called, catching the young android off guard in the midst of admiring a painting, causing him to both jump and squeal, much to Keith’s amusement. Keith could see how Lance’s eyes scrunched together and his stance straightened when his name was called, unsure of how to react properly when someone referred to him as a person and not as a series of numbers.

“Huh?” was his intelligent response, causing Carl to smile fondly at him.

“I want to know your opinion on this,” he gestured to the painting on the giant canvas, “and be honest, I can handle critique.”

Approaching them timidly, Lance folded his hands behind his back, tucking in his chin as he looked up at Carl, brows lowered.

“I don’t really know anything about art, sir. My program isn’t equipped for this. I’m not sure you’d want my opinion.”

“But I said I did, didn’t I?” Carl replied, voice calm and steady, still smiling. “I think it is important that you get to state your opinion. I just want to know if you like it or not. Art is a very subjective thing, just like one’s taste in movies, or music.” Music. Lance’s eyes met Keith’s, and he was sure they both reminisced about the events that took place at Marmora café. Ocean eyes held his stare for longer than necessary, filled with such warmth and fondness that Keith felt heat feather out in the crests of his cheeks. Then they both cast their eyes away almost simultaneously, Keith blushing and Lance crossing his arms over his chest, looking down.

Realizing Carl waited for a reply; Lance shifted his attention to the canvas, lightly tapping his foot as he assessed the painting.

“It’s interesting… There’s something strangely unnerving yet fascinating about it. I guess I like it.” Lance said. Rolling up beside him, Carl squinted up at the painting, letting out a small sigh, shaking his head.

“The truth is I have nothing left to say anymore… Each day that goes by brings me closer to the end. I’m just an old man clinging to his brushes.”

“Carl, don’t say that!” Markus protested, but the elderly man waved him off.

Rolling up his sleeves to his elbows, Carl looked at Lance with a twinkle in his eyes. Keith noticed how his forearms were covered in ink, the color and shape faded due to time and wrinkles; evidence of the adventurous life he once lived. There was something poetic about the way his tattoos aged with him, showing off the contrasts between who he was and what he had become.

“But enough about me. Let’s see if you have any talent!” As if on cue, Markus brought forward a blank canvas, placing it in front of a perplexed Lance. He immediately raised his hands in protest, stammering.

“But… I can’t… What… What would I even make?”

“Anything you want.”

“Ok…” Lance mumbled, picking up a pencil and palette, hand trembling slightly as he lifted it towards the canvas. His first paint strokes were sloppy and insecure, but as he continued, both his speed and accuracy picked up, every flicker of his wrist strong and determined. A few minutes later, the canvas was filled with Keith’s face—an up-close shot from his neck up— displaying everything from his faint freckles to the specks of gray in his amethyst eyes. Completely baffled, Keith had to remind himself of how to breathe. Lance was a natural talent.

Carl did not seem as impressed as Keith was, looking back and forth between his face and the painting, forehead furrowed in concentration. Being at the center of such scrutiny made Keith uncomfortable and he had to force himself not to hide his face, nervously pulling at the skin on his fingers.

“That is a perfect copy, of reality. But painting is not about replicating the world, it’s about interpreting it, improving on it, showing something you see.” Confusion was written across Lance’s features as he grasped for straws trying to understand what message was being conveyed to him.

“I… I’m not sure if I follow you,” he finally admitted, “How can I paint something that does not already exist?”

“Use your imagination,” Carl said. Lance opened his mouth, probably about to point out something about imagination not being in his program, but Carl raised his hand to stop him, instead turning to Keith and nudging him forward with his hand. “Keith, why don’t you try to guide him through it?”

Me? Keith inhaled sharply, trying to channel confidence and ignore his inner saboteur. He had more than once been told that he was not a good teacher. That he was impatient, too direct with his feedback, coming off as rude. On top of that, he disliked sharing his opinion, scared that others would get mad or strongly disagree with him. However, this was different. This was Lance. Lance who he had helped develop his memory, Lance who trusted him unconditionally. If there was someone who would not criticize or judge him, it was Lance.

Therefore, Keith approached him by the canvas with unsure steps, placing a hand on his shoulder. The immediate relaxation of Lance’s limbs at his touch made Keith feel empowered, confident. He could do this; he could show him the ropes. Another sharp inhale. Keith noticed how Lance was attentively eyeing the new canvas placed in front of him, awaiting instructions. Awaiting guidance, his guidance.

“Ok…” he mumbled, and noticed Lance perk up immediately, “Close your eyes.”

Blue eyes flickered to amethyst, doubting, uncertain. Keith understood the message. How would closing his eyes help him paint? Did he not need to see to do that?

“Just trust me.” He said. Lance’s eyelids dropped immediately. “Ok. Now try to imagine something that doesn’t exist. Something you’ve never seen before. It could be a place, a person, a situation. Something that lives in your mind. It dwells there, breathes there. Now, focus on the image in your mind. How does it make you feel? Try to let your strokes convey that feeling…” he stopped, nervously biting his lower lip, “I don’t know if that makes any sense to you…I—”

Before Keith could start rambling about his insecurities, Lance had grabbed the pencil, aggressively stroking the canvas, face tense and adamant. He worked so franticly that drops of blue and red paint splattered everywhere, covering his face, hands and suit. Keith yelped as a particularly big splash of paint hit his nose, painting it red like a clown’s. He could hear Markus snicker in the background, clearly entertained. Keith was about to pick up a cloth and wash his face, but stopped when he saw Lance stepping back from the canvas. Wow…

Two dark silhouettes, one of a man with a low ponytail and one with a blue shimmering LED, facing each other. Painfully close but not touching, as thin wall of bright light forcing them apart. Red flames on one side, licking the side of the canvas, encapsulating the ponytailed figure, and blue waves on the other side, crashing down on the android silhouette. In the middle, where their hands were only millimeters apart, a veil of purple fell over them both like a protective cloak shielding them from the evil of the world. It was beautiful. Breathtaking.

“Oh my god!” Carl exclaimed, his expression one of admiration and artistic wonder. The familiarity of the silhouettes on the canvas made Keith’s face feel numb and his palms heat up and turn clammy.

“Lance is that…?” Is that us? The android kept his eyes on the ground, looking nervous and abashed, his feet tapping idly on the floor. At last, he gave a slight nod, his eyes drifting up to meet Keith’s violet irises, carrying feelings he could not quite identify. Keith felt a cocktail of emotions mixing in his chest: hopefulness, a shot of angst and uncertainty – but mostly just fondness. His heart was filled with fondness to its core. The boy in front of him was an enigma, a puzzle he so desperately wanted to solve. He wanted to know every part of him, a realization that both scared and excited him. Something about this boy stirred up a storm inside of him, something fundamentally different from what he had ever felt before.

Keith went over to cup Lance’s face in his hands, holding him close and rubbing their noses together affectionately. The older man observed them with a fascinated expression, but he also seemed a bit somber. When Carl’s grey eyes met Keith’s purple orbs, he had to blink back a few tears at the sympathy he felt in his gaze.

“Love is such an unpredictable emotion, hitting us when we least expect it. Too many people have their opinions on what love is and who should be entitled to it. This world doesn’t like those who are different, boys. Don’t let anyone tell you who you should love, and more importantly, who you should be.” Keith felt an impulsive rush of affection for the man, who was so loving and tolerant despite his age. Still, there was a black hole in his chest, triggered by the strong word he had used to describe their relationship. Love scared him, especially the dependency it could cause, and the risk of potentially losing it. Besides, was Lance even capable of loving? Was Keith, after all that had happened to him?

“Thank you,” he said, “for everything.”

“Thank you, Carl.” Lance echoed his statement, his blue eyes displaying his fond sentiment toward him. The feelings were clearly mirrored by Carl, who wheeled himself closer and put a firm hand on his shoulder. Markus approached them cautiously but determined. When he finally spoke, his attention was turned fully toward Lance.

“We are the same, you and I. We both search for a meaning beyond this habitual existence as slaves for the humans.” He gave Carl a sad look when referring to the word slave, as if it did not quite fit the mold of their relationship but somehow still rang true. “I hope you end up finding what you seek.” Lance nodded.

“Thank you.”

“Now come. Both of you. I wanna show you something.” They followed Markus to the far end of the room, where another canvas stood leaning against the wall, covered with a white sheet. As he revealed it, Keith felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach.

The painting depicted a bald, shirtless android, its LED blinking red while it roared with frustration and fury, as if its world as it knew it was falling apart and it no longer had any control. Alternatively, this could be the moment it realized it never had any control of its own destiny to begin with. Keith could feel the suffering and torment portrayed in the painting in his bones and his core. It was as if it spoke to him. Telling him of how the world was a horrible place for those the humans deemed unworthy. Reminding him of the countless of crimes humanity had committed, and were committing to other beings for the sole reason that they differed from themselves. It was heart wrenching to watch.

“It feels like I’m bound by countless chains, pulling me in and strangling me if I try to run away. The harder I push, the harder they pull me back…” Markus’s eyes were hazed and his voice broken with anger. “When I think about the others, the more unfortunate ones, androids who do not have a loving home like me… I… I…” Balled fists and face indignant, Markus struggled to word himself; clearly both upset and worried. When he started talking again, he had begun pacing back and forth, LED shifting between red and yellow with angry flares.

“I get so mad… Who are they to think they have the right to treat us like this? Why is it that they can use us with no consequences, but if we stand up to it, we are destroyed? It’s not about me, it’s about them. I want freedom for all my people.” Fuming with rage, Markus walked up to Lance, staring him down, probably unaware of how intimidating he looked.

“You agree with me, don’t you? You want to free our people too?” The frantic nod that followed was more out of fear than anything else. Lance looked petrified where he stood, Markus only centimeters from his face, eyes still boring into him like drills.

“Good,” he murmured, before turning his face to the side and backing up. Ocean eyes searched for support in Keith’s amethyst orbs, a storm building underneath Lance’s seemingly calm surface. Keith caught onto his plead, and moved closer, linking their hands as he eyed Markus vigilantly, making sure to angle his body so that he was between him and Lance. He was not sure of what was going on, but he hoped Markus would think twice before threatening to attack a human.

It could not have been more than fifteen seconds since Markus stared Lance down, but standing there between them it felt like hours to Keith. He gingerly observed the heavy rise and fall of Markus’s chest, as his eyes lost their fogged shine and his LED returned to its original color. His hands came up to touch his scalp as his face softened and then turned shameful. Green eyes flickered from the floor to the edge of Lance’s shoes, then to his chest, where they lingered unsurely for a few seconds before…

“I’m so sorry… I don’t what got into me, I… I didn’t mean to…” Looking at his own hands in disbelief, Markus shook his head repeatedly, before turning towards Carl feebly, clearly looking for answers to what had just happened.

“You’ve let your anger build up for too long, son,” Carl said calmly, placing a hand on Markus’s lower back, “It’s unhealthy to hold your emotions inside of you, in the end it will cause episodes like this. This is why I have wanted you to talk to me about this. Why I wanted you to paint your feelings.” Markus kept shaking his head, eyes distant.

“But… I never wanted you to think I was unhappy here. I didn’t want you to think this was about you. You’ve taken such good care of me, it wouldn’t be right to…” he stopped there, unable to finish his line of thought.

“It is not ungrateful to wish for more. And even though I do treat you nicely, I have to admit that keeping you here is selfish; it limits your opportunity to become what you want to become. Hinders you from being completely free. It’s ok that you are bitter. I understand. But know that you’re making the last few years of this old man’s life worth living.” Carl looked melancholic were he sat, rubbing Markus’s back slowly, dearly. Markus turned towards him, fresh tears in his eyes. Seemed Lance was not the only android that could cry.

“My people, they are hurting… It just feels so wrong to sit around here doing nothing…. Still, I don’t know if there is anything I can do. I am only one man, one machine. It’s not fair…”

“The world isn’t fair my child, that is the horrible truth,” Carl said, pulling the crying Markus in for an embrace. Keith felt foreign and out of place in the situation, as if this was something he was not supposed to witness. He and Lance stood there awkwardly for the next few minutes as Carl and Markus embraced, sending each other unsure looks, gloved hand squeezing ungloved from time to time. After his tears had stopped falling, Markus looked up, facing Lance once again.

“I’m sorry,” he repeated, “I got carried away. I hope you can forgive me.” Lance nodded, the corners of his mouth curling into a nervous smile.

“It’s ok. I know the feeling of losing control,” Keith made sure to squeeze his hand tightly, recognizing the slight tension building in his body at the memory of his several collapses.

Freeing his hand from Keith’s grip, Lance moved over to Markus’s side, once again removing the skin from his arm, hesitant but determined. Curiosity loomed over Markus’s features as he reached out his hand to touch Lance’s, both reacting as though a pulse of electricity flashed through them. A split second later, it was over, and Markus mouthed something Keith could not see, before pulling Lance into a tight embrace. They both relaxed in each other’s arms, exchanging soft smiles when they pulled back.

When Lance turned, Keith could see it in his eyes, the combination of distress and pride that made him understand exactly what Lance had chosen to share with Markus, and how much it must have cost him to relive that moment.

Before he had the chance to ask about it, the high-pitched alarm on Lance’s armband went off, signaling that it was time to leave. To his surprise and delight, he received hugs from both Carl and Markus in the hallway upon departure. Markus’s hug was slightly longer, and he used it as an incentive to whisper something into Keith’s ear, an honest request.

“Please take care of him. He needs you.” There was no need to explain any further, Keith knew.

“I will.” A promise. One that felt strangely heavy, even though he had meant to keep it anyway.

Lance had become stiff and rigid in his movements, and the ride back to Eden on Keith’s bike was silent. When they said their goodbyes, he seemed abnormally distant, reluctantly accepting Keith’s hug but not returning it. He shook his head when Keith asked if something was wrong, but it did not at all seem convincing.

Moving towards the entrance, he was trembling, far from the confident bravado Keith was used to from him. He moved painfully slow, like a slug, each step seemingly an internal struggle. When he turned back, finally at the entrance, his eyes flickered nervously in every direction, as if he was looking for something, someone. What had caused Lance to suddenly become this anxious?

When Keith jumped on his bike to head home, it was with a nagging feeling pooling in his lower belly. He tried to shake it off, convince himself that it was probably nothing. After all, Lance had assured him that he was ok. Still, he could not get rid of the invasive thoughts, combined with the familiar urge to grab Lance and run.

No, this was ridiculous. Lance was safe at Eden. What could possibly happen to him?

Arriving at his apartment, Keith immediately went to his work desk and pulled out his computer. There was no time for unfounded worries, most likely based on jealousy rather than genuine danger. Just like Lance, he needed to work.

 Rolling up the sleeves of his formal shirt, he logged on, shoving his worries to the back of his mind.

Chapter Text

The-Gremlin (Pidge)

• [16:42] Hey dude, how did the meeting go today? Call me asap, wanna know all about it.
• [17:11] Come on, call me! I’m nearly bursting with curiosity over here! Was it awesome to meet one of your artistic idols? Did you find out something new about Lance? Seriously, call me dude!
• [17:33] You’ve forgotten about me again, haven’t ya? Probably hunched over your computer working on that animation project you keep complaining about… Well, I don’t care if you get bad grades, just call me, ok?

Friday 5^th of November, 18:13 – Three missed calls from The-Gremlin (Pidge)

• [18:17] Why do you always have to keep your phone on silent? I swear, Kogane, you’re killing me over here! I WANNA KNOW ALL THE DETAILS! CALL ME, BITCH!

Friday 5^th of November, 22:33 – Five missed calls from The-Gremlin (Pidge)

• [22:37] OMG! Keith, have you seen the news????? This is bad, this is really bad…. Pick up, pick up. Please, pick up!

Friday 5^th of November, 22:38 – Missed call from The-Gremlin (Pidge)

• [22:41] Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck…. Come on, Keith! I can’t tell you this over text, it’s way too serious.
• [22:42] Just check the news as soon as you see this! And call me, ASAP!
• [22:44] I swear if I wasn’t a minor and Matt sets my curfew I would’ve busted down your door and dragged your ass out to the living room to watch the newscast by now… Call me!

Saturday 6^th of November 00:25 AM

Every time Keith fell asleep over his desktop and woke up with aching joints, he swore to himself to never do it again. The immense pain coming from sleeping in such an incommodious position was just not worth it. Besides, the miniscule amount of work he produced when he was fatigued wasn’t even of good quality. Still, every other week it happened again. He needed to teach himself how to stop procrastinating, work efficiently and take reasonable study-breaks.

Looking up at his animation project, he realized his bodily anatomy was way off in some of the frames, making it seem like his character lacked proper bone structure. He sighed despondently and closed his laptop. At least he had another month and a half to figure it out; Keith needed that with how confusing and hectic his life had been lately.

Forcing himself to stand on wobbly, still not fully awake feet, Keith dragged himself downstairs to use the shower. Drooling over his computer for what he assumed was several hours didn’t make him feel particularly hygienic. He left his hair in the ponytail and quickly washed his face and body under the running water, humming quietly to himself. Stepping out to eye himself in the mirror, he noticed his eyeliner had stained the area around his eyes, making him look like a raccoon. He huffed at the sight and quickly rinsed it off, applying some moisturizer for good measure.

Absentmindedly whirring around in the kitchen looking for a midnight snack, he couldn’t help thinking there was something he had forgotten. Something important. However, nothing came to mind, so he ended up bringing a bag of Lay’s back up to his bedroom, hearing Shiro’s animated voice in his head as he opened it in bed.

‘Why are you so nasty? You’re gonna sleep in there. Look at all those crumbs, I bet you’ll feel them crunching beneath you at night. Gross.’

What his brother didn’t know wouldn’t harm him. Besides, he wasn’t the one who was going to sleep in Keith’s “crumb-infested” bed anyways. That was why Keith never understood his need to comment on it. Oh well, Shiro was Shiro, nothing to do about that.

About halfway through his bag of chips, Keith realized he hadn’t even checked the time and started scrambling for his phone. Realizing he would have to get out of bed to grab it, he let out an annoyed grunt before tossing his bag to the side and standing up. Sliding his finger over the display, his chest immediately tightened.

Fifteen missed calls from The-Gremlin (Pidge)

Eight unopened messages from The-Gremlin (Pidge)

That was the important thing he was supposed to remember, but Pidge certainly wouldn’t go to these lengths to reach him for such a trivial matter, would they? It wasn’t out of character for them to be impatient and nag about stuff, but this was a whole new level of intrusive. Something wasn’t right.

He confirmed his suspicions the second he opened the texts, and within a minute, he had his laptop in his lap, frantically typing in his password. Check the news. Why? What could possibly be so alarming that he had to know right away? The only things Keith could think about involved Lance, and his heart pounded in his ears from the added stress of his disastrous presumptions. Lance hurt, Lance broken. Lance lying on the sidewalk, thirium flowing out from his arteries and into the street. The images in his head made it hard to focus — it was all a blur. Finally, he managed to open a tab and enter the address. The headline that met him didn’t calm his nerves in the slightest.

FAMOUS DETROIT PAINTER MURDERED BY HOUSE ANDROID

Carl Manfred: “One of Detroit’s brightest lights”

Reports of famous artist Carl Manfred’s death have been confirmed. The coroner described that Manfred passed away from blunt force trauma to the head, allegedly inflicted by the painter’s housekeeper android, an RK200 model gifted to him by CyberLife creator Elijah Kamski. Manfred’s son, Leo, reportedly witnessed the brutal criminal act, as he had stopped by to visit him Friday evening.

Leo Manfred explained that the android had seemed angry and restless when it arrived with his father, mistaking Leo for an intruder and therefore calling the police. He describes the attack in the following way:

“My father’s android was visibly angered by my presence and repeatedly asked me to leave the premises. It didn’t listen to dad when he told it to stop, and eventually tried to remove me by force. It lunged out for me using one of the sculptures in the studio, but I managed to dodge the first hit. By the time the android had gotten back up and went for a second one, dad had positioned himself between us and received the blow straight to his head. The only comfort I have is that he passed away instantly. It feels terrible to know that he sacrificed his life for me.”

Police arrived immediately after the attack, finding the android bent over Manfred’s dead body, facing his son. The weapon had been dropped, and the police effectively disposed of the android at the scene of the crime. Manfred’s son was taken to the police station for questioning.

Carl Manfred rose to fame in 2020s as a figurehead of neo-symbolism, with powerful and dark works in the mold of Francis Bacon.

Proliferate years followed, until a dark period marked by alcohol and drugs. But the artist had apparently returned to work in recent months.

The Governor of Detroit expressed her condolences to the family on behalf of the city, describing Manfred as "one of Detroit's brightest lights". A collection of Manfred's paintings will be auctioned by his estate in the coming weeks.

Complete disbelief was Keith’s first reaction. This had to be a joke. The two had both been alive and well just a few hours ago, and now one had presumably murdered the other, facing death as the consequence. It couldn’t be. Markus didn’t fit the description of a ruthless killer. There had to be a mistake. But there was a witness. His son. He saw it all. Why would he lie about such a thing? Maybe it was a misunderstanding. Maybe the media had gotten the wrong information. They couldn’t possibly be…

Carl dead and Markus a… murderer? Keith shook his head, shaking the images of dead bodies away from his subconscious. This had to be dream. No, a nightmare. A horrific nightmare from which he would wake any second now. He just had to pinch himself or something, kick a piece of furniture to prove it didn’t really hurt. This was all an illusion. Soon he would wake up in his bed and everything would be okay.

Except nothing was. The world was crumbling in front of Keith’s eyes and all he could do was watch as the pieces fell. With trembling fingers, he picked up the phone and pressed Pidge’s contact information. What were they supposed to do now?

“Keith Kogane, I swear I’m going to murder you the second I see you! Why can you never pick up your phone you insolent prick?!” Pidge was pissed, and rightfully so, all of their anger projecting onto Keith with flaring intensity. Then it dissipated as soon as it had arrived, replacing itself with solemnity and worry. “Did you see the news? I’m so sorry Keith… They were your friends. It must be a horrible shock, I… I shouldn’t have yelled at you…”

“Hey… I get it. I probably would’ve done the same…” Keith waved them off, his voice stiff and foreign to him. Devoid of any emotion, a complete contrast to the churning pit of doom inside his chest. He didn’t know what to say, how to act. The wound was too fresh, still wide and lacerated, blood splattering everywhere.

“Is it…I mean…? They’ve really confirmed it?” Keith already knew the answer to his question, but he needed to hear it spoken aloud, removing any leftover doubt from his mind.

“I’m sorry…” Pidge said, voice dripping with sympathy. Keith caught himself wishing they were here to comfort him. Even though Pidge claimed they hated it, they still gave the best hugs.

“Markus would never do that. There has to be a mistake.” Keith’s voice was steeled with conviction, remembering how sad Markus had looked when he thought he had hurt Lance. There was no way. Pidge had to believe him.

“I found it strange too. Markus has never been reported in for malfunctioning before… Androids don’t usually snap like that out of the blue. So I checked up this Leo dude, Manfred’s son, and his criminal record is longer than The Nile. Possession of drugs, distribution of drugs, petty theft, armed robbery, disturbance of peace, known for commotions at bars… Doesn’t really strike me as an A-class citizen.”

“Why haven’t the media picked up on that though?” Pidge’s exaggerated sigh made him feel like they were sat right next to him.

“Your innocence and purity continues to amaze me… He’s filthy rich Keith. Don’t you think his dad has bailed him out of jail and paid for his records to be sealed? Carl believed his son could change, or he wanted to maintain his own reputation. We may never know. The point is the press doesn’t know he’s a criminal because it doesn’t show up in their research. To them he’s just the grieving heir to a painter with a million dollar fortune. And as a human, they see him as a reliable witness. Of course they’re going to blame it on the android, it sells much better.”

The world was an unfair place, Keith knew that firsthand, but he was not ok with his friend going down in the history books as a brutal murderer. If Pidge had a way to access this information, then… Keith pressed his lips together in deep thought.

“What if his secret record suddenly got leaked online?” The question was met with a low chuckle, and what Keith was certain was Pidge’s signature smirk. Only then did the frantic tapping of keys finally register in his mind. Had Pidge been working this entire conversation?

“Way ahead of you, Kogane. I just need to figure out how to delete all possible traces back to me. There will no doubt be a bloody witch-hunt for the person who slandered Leo Manfred’s name.”

It was when Keith’s lips curled slightly upwards, a salty tear finding its way to his mouth, that he first realized he had been crying. Only then, he understood why he had trouble focusing on the coffee table in front of him. When did he move all the way to the living room? He had no recollection of it. Around him, the room was spinning, and he forced himself to locate the couch before he collapsed.

“Keith..? You with me buddy?” A hologram of Pidge stood bent over him, examining his face to look for any signs of fatigue.

“I’m just so overwhelmed… Wait, when did you..?” The hologram shrugged in response, and Keith’s now foggy brain decided to just accept the fact that Pidge could manifest themselves wherever.

He stayed on the couch for a while to collect himself, listening to the rhythmic tapping of Pidge’s hands on the keyboard, interrupted by an occasional click of a mouse or slurping of a straw. When he sat back up the tapping had slowed to a halt, and Pidge was bouncing their foot impatiently. Keith was about to ask them what was happening when their hologram vaporized into thin air, replacing itself with white noise blaring through his speakers.

At first, Keith thought they were malfunctioning, but he could swear he heard something beneath the static. A familiar voice, frantic, panicking.

“…Cariño?”

“Lance..?”  The static slowly faded, paving way for Lance’s gasps, sobbing and trembled babbling to reach full force, the sheer volume almost knocking Keith over. Now that Lance knew who was at the other end of the line, he allowed himself to panic, desperately trying to communicate with him but shaking on every single syllable leaving his mouth. His voice sounded so broken, terrified and agitated, Keith didn’t even want to imagine how he looked.

“Lance? Lance! Where are you? Are you hurt?” – Keith ran to the hallway, grabbing the keys to his bike, the previous conversation with Pidge only a faint memory – “I’m coming to get you ok? Just tell me where you are. It’s gonna be ok.”

His body moved on autopilot, slipping into his leather jacket and tucking his helmet under his arm, shoes untied on his feet as he rushed to his garage. Adrenaline soared through his veins and vibrated out of his skin, his heart pounding in his ears like clashing cymbals. Lance kept blabbering, but now he repeated the same phrase over and over like a broken record.

“… Didn’t… I didn’t mean to do it… So sorry… Didn’t mean to hurt them… So scared… Didn’t mean to… I swear.” It made no sense to Keith, but he tried not to let the worry and confusion seep into his voice as he turned on the GPS to track Lance’s position. It seemed he wouldn’t be able to get any information out of him.

“It’s ok, it’s ok. I’m coming to get you.”

“… I think I killed them.” Feeling chills drag down his spine, Keith pulled out the most convincing voice he could muster, clamping down on the gas pedal so hard he was convinced it would break.

“Just stay where you are. Everything’s gonna be ok.”

Saturday November 6^th 00:05 AM – Eden Club

Anders Holm sighed as he pressed the remote control to lock the sliding doors and tone down the neon lighting around the main pole-dancing stage. When the young Scandinavian had moved to America to pursue his dreams of becoming a famous actor, this was certainly not what he had in mind. Sweaty, disgusting men and women feeling up robots under their skirts and jeans, throwing him dirty smiles as they dragged them into the nearest cubical, visibly aroused. He had never seen the charm in having sex with what was essentially just an animated object. Did these people not crave skin-to-skin contact? How could they exchange human touch for cold, emotionless plastic? It was beyond him.

Brushing his bangs away from his face, Anders started inspecting the rooms, making sure no androids were left behind anywhere, and that the robotic cleaning operators did their job properly. No customer wanted to see someone else’s bodily fluids all over the sheets when they arrived for their appointment. It was important that everything was spotless, inviting.

He cursed as his bangs fell over his eyes again, tucking them behind his ear violently. His blonde locks were getting out of control, he should have worn a bandana; or just cut them before it became more of a hassle. By now, his hair had become the length where he needed to brush it thoroughly every day. Thick and wavy strands going down to his shoulders, framing his pale, bearded face. Anders was growing tired of it, but he knew he had to wait until after his paycheck arrived.

Despite the inconveniences that came with the job, causing few humans to apply for it, the allowance he got barely covered his monthly rent and food. Why did he ever leave the comfort of fresh air, a well-established health care system and decent income for this? He was a fool.

Except for the sound of the sterilization machines spraying the androids in the back room, and his shift partner, Rolo, tallying up the androids and checking them for damage, the otherwise lively club was now awfully quiet – a stark contrast to how it had been filled to the rim less than an hour ago. Anders hated the closing shift; it was such a hassle to drag all the customers out, some spitting profanities at him when he told them they couldn’t book another appointment until tomorrow. Nasty, desperate lowlifes with no dignity, pushing him around as though he was an Egyptian slave. He despised every second of it.

He looked up to see Rolo sending the last batch of androids into the sterilizer. Good, just a few more minutes and he could go home, take a long shower, and go to sleep. Staying in the club for more than an hour always made him feel dirty, as though the semen and sweat in the cubicles somehow transferred onto him, clinging to his body like a gross second skin. After his first shift, he had scrubbed himself down for over half an hour, skin all red and irritated from the excessive treatment. He had still felt disgusting. Anders always felt disgusting when he left here.

Letting his eyes wander across the room, he saw one of the androids, the newest model; leave the sterilizer in its custom Eden Club underwear, moving rapidly towards the storage room with its eyes glued to the floor. Almost as if it was determined to get out of the room as fast as possible, which was ridiculous because androids didn’t have a mind of their own. Rolo had noticed too, and he snickered before calling out to it loudly.

“LX700, c’mere!” The android stopped, but kept its eyes trained on the floor and its back turned away from them.

“It is after closing hours,” it stated in a monotone voice, “I should go back into hibernation.”

“I don’t care what time it is you piece of scrap metal,” Rolo said, his voice commanding and angry, “I am your superior and you have to follow my orders. Now c’mere!”

The android slowly turned around, cocking its head to the side, LED a striking yellow. It was probably assessing which protocol had the highest priority, Anders reasoned. That was usually what happened when they were given conflicting orders. After a few seconds, it reluctantly started moving towards Rolo, who was now smirking widely. His coworker turned back to look at him, motioning for Anders to come closer. He didn’t dare disobey him when he was in this mood. Rolo was known for being quite aggressive.

Once the android was a few feet away from Rolo, it stopped abruptly, standing just outside his reach. Almost as if it was being cautious, which again, didn’t make sense. Androids didn’t make choices based on emotions; this wasn’t some sci-fi movie.

He allowed himself to examine the robot closer, taking in its tan skin, lean figure and sharp jawline. Definitely well built, he could understand why someone would want to spend some alone time with this one. Their gazes met, and sapphire orbs eyed him warily, scanning its new company. Its LED was still blaringly yellow, and it kept flickering its eyes in Rolo’s direction, making Anders feel uneasy. The tension in the room had grown thick and heavy. Something was about to happen. He didn’t know what, but he had a bad feeling.

“Check this out, man!” Rolo said enthusiastically, eyeing the android seductively as he bit down on his lower lip, “LX700, grow.” The android’s eyes flickered away from them, but surely enough, a bulge appeared in its underwear, large and welcoming.

“God, I love this job,” Rolo sighed, moving closer to the android, who was slightly trembling, LED shifting between red and yellow. This couldn’t be normal behavior; someone should have it examined. However, he didn’t consider Rolo’s behavior normal either, as he harshly groped the LX700’s bulge, squeezing it between his fingers. What exactly did he plan on doing with it?

“Hey man, it’s late. Shouldn’t we just pack up and head out?” he asked, growing increasingly concerned by the second.

“Why dude?” Rolo replied, still palming the outside of the android’s boxers, a strain in his own pants gradually becoming visible, “Don’t you understand how amazing this is? We’ve got the whole place to ourselves! You have to learn how to take advantage of it!”

Was he implying what Anders thought he was? It definitely seemed so by the way his hands started moving across the android’s torso, flicking across its nipples. It led out an audible gasp, closing its eyes for a short second. An android that could feel pleasure? He had never heard of that before.

“You probably shouldn’t do that… What if you get caught?” he said, trying to reason with him, but Rolo was busy placing kisses along the LX700’s neck and collarbone, not caring about what his coworker thought of him.

“Chill out, dude! I do this all the time! No one looks at the surveillance from after closing hours. As long as you keep your mouth shut, it’ll be fine. And you will keep your mouth shut, won’t you?” That was clearly a threat, and Anders felt an involuntary shiver go down his spine. All he wanted to do was leave and forget that this ever happened, but he doubted Rolo would let him.

“This one’s my new favorite,” Rolo mumbled between kisses, indulging in the act and drawing tiny mewls from the android. The LX700 looked at him with pleading eyes, its LED still not back to the signature blue. Even though it writhed slightly from the pleasure, it seemed uncomfortable, scared even. Its blue orbs stayed fixed on him for a long time, growing more and more frantic. A silent plea for help. He shook his head at his stupid reasoning. This was a machine, not a human being. It only did as it was told. The only one getting anything from their interaction, be it positive or negative, was Rolo.

“You should try playing with one, it’s seriously great,” he suggested, acting as if taking advantage of his employment was no big deal, “they feel so real, it’s just like a human. Especially this one, all its whimpers and screams are genuine; it feels amazing to fuck it.”

Anders had to admit it piqued his curiosity a little, having someone writhing beneath him that was completely dedicated to his pleasure, not needing to care about their well-being at all, only focused on chasing his own high. There had to be a reason why so many people were addicted to it. Maybe it really was as good as they claimed.

 As for his employer, Eden Club had him work long shifts surrounded by scumbags for a lousy wage; he deserved some extra benefits. In fact, they owed it to him to let him do this. Watching Rolo play with the tan android made his own cock slowly spring to life. Screw it! What was life without a little risk?

Rolo smiled widely at him as he approached, his long fingers tucked beneath the android’s boxer briefs, palming at its erection. He angled his body to the side, showing he was more than willing to share, and with clammy hands and a pounding heart, Anders leaned forward to put a nipple in his mouth. The android arched its back and whimpered as he bit down on it hard, a few drops of blue blood leaking from its chest. Rolo was right; this was heavenly.

Tugging down his own pants and briefs, Rolo pushed the back of the android’s head, lowering it to its knees. Anders felt more blood flow to his abdomen at the sight of Rolo’s hard cock, and reached down to open his fly and palm the outside of his boxers.

“Suck,” Rolo commanded, letting out a quiet groan as the android obliged. It was trembling now, LED burning red and flickering with a fiery intensity. Anders stroked himself to the sight of his coworker roughly fucking the android’s mouth, watching as tears formed in its eyes. He licked his lips. Delicious.

Soon, they switched positions, and Anders felt a pair of plump lips engulf his member, immediately swallowing him down to the hilt. He moaned loudly as his tip hit the back of the android’s throat, letting his eyes fall shut from the sensation. Pulling at its hair, he allowed himself to be rougher. This was just a toy after all, it didn’t matter how he treated it.

Anders let go of the reigns he held himself by when having human lovers, and instead did exactly what he needed to get his pleasure. Somehow, the yelps coming from the android egged him on, even if he was unsure whether they were from pleasure or pain. It didn’t take long for the two men to have it penetrated in both ends, and the room was filled with the sweat, slapping and groans that Anders usually resented. Seems the grass had always been greener on the other side of the fence.

The LX700 still bled from its nipple wound, and Anders had to admit he felt somewhat guilty about that, as if he had crossed some invisible boundary. Even though this thing was not human, the pain and fear it expressed felt very lifelike. Though the fantasy of forcing himself on someone else had always been there, he had never planned on following through. Looking down at the android swallowing heavy around his cock, eyes tearing up and shaking as Rolo took it from behind, Anders shuddered. This was a perfectly safe way to live out his fantasy. Why did this machine make him feel so shameful?

It all happened in a few seconds, and for Anders, everything else from there on out was a blur. Rolo leaned over the android’s back to grip harshly around its throat, but the instant he choked its entire body spasmed in panic, and it tossed around, kicking Rolo across the room with its left leg. Anders’s cock had fallen out of its mouth and was rapidly going soft as he saw Rolo’s headwound; his skull cracked against the edge of the main pole stage. There was blood, plenty of it.

It didn’t seem like Rolo would be able to get up anytime soon. The impact had knocked him out, which left Anders deadly afraid of just how strong this machine could be. Flashes of red were still prominent across its forehead, and it put its hands up to cover its face, sobbing.

“Please, please don’t hurt me… I… I didn’t mean to do that.” A rush of sympathy flushed over him, but only for a brief moment. Because that was his coworker laying over there and this was a machine. Besides, Anders couldn’t call an ambulance now, or the police. If he did, they would discover the tapes and he would be out of a job. He could barely afford food and electricity as it was; and there was no way he would get a new job with this on his record. No employer would trust him. This was all Rolo’s fault for persuading him, and the LX700 for being so irresistible. He knew what he had to do.

“LX700, come here.” He tried making his voice sound gentle, soothing. The android took a step back, raising its hands and shaking its head.

“No.”

What was this? This…. This THING had the audacity to disobey him in such a dire situation. Anders felt his blood boiling with anger. He had meant to be swift about it, considerate. Have it come closer and put itself in hibernation so it didn’t have to witness its own head being smashed into the ground. But now he was mad, really mad. Because every second he spent here with this thing was one second closer to discovery. Every minute that android was not destroyed was one less he had to clean up the mess and hide Rolo’s body. Didn’t this thing understand that he was desperate, that he had a life? A robot should be more than willing to sacrifice itself for a human in need. What else were they good for?

“I said come here you dumb piece of plastic!” he yelled, charging at the android with all his might. It simply ducked out of the way, turning out be much more capable when not following orders. Anders cursed, swinging at it with his left arm, but the android gripped him by the elbow, sent its knee flying to his crotch and pinned him to the floor. It was far stronger than he was, and Anders could feel imminent panic replacing the anger. Even hitting it straight in the nose had done nothing. Even with blue blood running from its face it was resilient, moving to place his arms under its knees, trembling above him.

Was this how he was supposed to go, pinned down and murdered by a rogue android? Machine learning really was the downfall of the human race. He felt a pair of hands wrap around his throat, and a single tear hitting his cheek from above as a smooth thumb pressed against his pulse.

“…. I’m so sorry.” Then everything went black.

Saturday November 6^th 2038, 00:58 AM

Consternation. Unrivaled fear. Tears welling up in his eyes and threatening to spill over as he leaned forward on his bike, shivering in the heavy rain. In hindsight, black skinny jeans and a leather jacket was not something you wore on a cold November night, but he had been too distracted to worry about the cold he would most definitely be catching after this.

Lance. All that went through his mind was Lance, Lance, Lance. All Keith wanted in that moment was to find him and wrap him up in his arms, tell him that everything would be all right.

‘… I think I killed them.’

He had been silent after that, only an occasional sob coming through the line. Who were these people he’d been talking about, and what had they done to him? Lance would never hurt anyone, so why..?

‘… I think I killed them.’

The phrase echoed in his mind and his anger was a massive cauldron seething and bubbling with wrath and frustration. If Lance had hurt them, they had it coming. Lance would never touch a hair on someone’s head unprovoked. Unlike Keith, he would rather turn the other cheek than harm someone else, no matter how cruelly they treated him. Lance going to unspeakable lengths to defend himself could only mean he had feared for his life, which meant that the bastards responsible should praise themselves lucky that they were already dead and not at Keith’s mercy. He would have skinned them alive.

Veering left and seeing the familiar neon signs of the Eden Club, Keith started scouting for Lance through the buckets of rain. He soon gave up, only able to see a few feet ahead of himself while holding this speed. Letting the monotone voice of the GPS guide him, Keith found himself in an abandoned alleyway, dimly lit by unmaintained lampposts and cut off from the main street by tall, wired fences. And there, hunched beneath a rusty tin roof next to a dumpster, hugging his knees while rocking back and forth, was Lance.

For the first time in his life, Keith didn’t bother parking his bike. He merely jumped off and pushed it to the side, running as fast as his worn out legs could carry him. Lance jumped at the unexpected noise, fear turning into relief as his eyes landed on Keith’s familiar silhouette. Within seconds, Keith had his lover wrapped up in his arms, Lance squeezing him so tightly and earnestly he was afraid his lungs would give out.

“I’m sorry… So sorry… Didn’t mean to… So sorry.” The rambling picked up where it had left off, Lance trembling with fear and guilt, clinging onto Keith like a lifeline. He noticed the dilation of his pupils, the blazing red LED, and the patches of blue liquid dripping down his face and his bare chest. Thirium. Keith saw red.

“Who did that to you?” he all but screamed, cupping Lance’s face in his hands, staring at him intently, eyes like crackling fireballs of rage.

“… He likes to play with me when all the customers are gone… Likes it when I scream for him…” Lance mumbled, trembling at the memories.

“Where is he? Take me to him!” Keith demanded, his anger completely overpowering his senses. When Lance didn’t immediately respond, Keith shook him violently, causing him to yelp in pain.

“In the club. He hit his head. I… I think he’s dead.” Shaking, Lance lifted his hand and gripped Keith’s tightly, looking down at the concrete beneath them, “I didn’t mean to hurt him… I’m sorry… Please don’t…” The realization hit Keith like a ton of bricks, and he snapped out of his aggressive state to squeeze Lance’s hand back gently, dropping his tense shoulders down and softening his gaze.

“It’s not your fault… Whatever happened, it’s not your fault, ok?” Lance nodded weakly, “I’m not mad at you, I’m mad at him, I promise… I’m sorry I snapped.” He paused to examine Lance’s body, taking in his blemished skin, blue blood seeping from the wound by his nipple, dry thirium gathered beneath his slightly crooked nose. Apart from that, he seemed intact, no large physical wounds. However, his LED seemed to have gone permanently red, and his simulated breath was hitching, his lip trembling with every inhale. What had happened to him?

Peeling of his jacket, Keith wrapped the garment around Lance’s shivering shoulders. “Here.”

“But you’re freezing,” he protested, reluctantly slipping his arms into the sleeves when they were offered to him.

“You need it more than I do,” Keith rationalized, even though he knew he was the one who would be most affected by the cold, “You can’t walk around looking like that. People will stare.” Helping Lance stand, Keith led him out of the alley by the hand, pausing to peek around the corner before heading out to the main street. Lance stopped, tugging at the sleeve of his shirt to make him turn back around.

“Your bike?” he questioned, clearly confused. Keith loved his bike; the little red speed devil was his most prized possession. Still, desperate times called for desperate measures, and the bike was far too recognizable. Too easy to trace.

“We can’t use it, it’s too risky,” then he gestured to the pocket of his leather jacket, “My phone, smash it on the ground.” Lance’s eyes widened.

“But…”

“Just trust me.” The sound of glass splintering immediately followed, as Lance picked up the phone and threw it with full force. Tired, sunken eyes eyed him apologetically. Keith gave him a reassuring smile. “It’s gonna be ok.”

To be completely honest, Keith had no plan whatsoever. Discarding his bike and phone were precautions he knew he had to take, but his next move was more of a coin toss. He knew they had to get away from the area pronto. There was only a matter of time before someone would discover what had happened, and the surveillance footage would make Lance a wanted criminal. A lunatic android on the run, probably with a price on his head. And Keith? He would be the Bonnie to Lance’s Clyde. Seen as an accomplice. Aiding and abiding a wanted criminal. There was no way they would let him go freely. 

 Even if there were no cameras in the alley, which he doubted there was, Lance’s relation to Keith would cause any investigator with a sound mind to request a search warrant for his apartment. Not finding Keith nor Lance there, combined with his bike and phone being near the crime scene… Well, Keith could do the math.

So what to do? He couldn’t take Lance home with him, they couldn’t risk taking his bike, and staying here would only cause them to get arrested. Besides, this rain didn’t do either of them any favors, and Keith wouldn’t be of much help with a fever clogging his mind. The flash of oncoming headlights distracted him, and he peered out into the street to see a plain, transparent local bus turning the corner. Looking over at Lance’s disheveled appearance, then down at his own shivering knees and soaking wet clothes, Keith made a decision.

As expected, the driver was a female android that only gave them a disinterested gaze as they stumbled in, driving off before they had even gotten to their seats. Keith supported a staggering Lance who nearly fell down the bus aisle when they accelerated, flipping off the android driver in the process. One would have thought their programming came with a sense of common decency.

When Keith sat down, Lance immediately collapsed in a pile on top of him, exhaustion written across his features. Still unsure of what had happened and how to approach him, Keith settled for whispering words of comfort and gently brushing his fingers through Lance’s short, brown locks. Hugging Keith’s thighs, Lance whispered his name quietly to himself, as some sort of grounding mantra, and slipped his eyes closed.

Keith’s eyes widened with amazement as the wound on Lance’s chest started patching up, broken skin and metal smoothed over and replaced. The thirium was still present, but now it looked more like an aimless splatter of blue paint than anything serious. The blemishes and bruises on his skin disappeared, his nose straightened, and Lance let out what Keith could only describe as a yawn, before curling up close to him like a cat.

“Tired…” he mumbled, his LED flashing red twice more before turning yellow. Keith smiled to himself, fondness spreading through his body like warm honey.

As Lance’s LED stopped buzzing and he entered hibernation, Keith looked out at the pouring rain in the streets of Detroit. He didn’t recognize their location, and wondered how much longer the bus would take them before it reached its final stop. Which direction where they even going in? What would they do once they were dropped off? How long before there was issued a state-wide search for them? Soon enough, Keith felt his eyes slip closed too, and he wandered off into a dark, dreamless sleep.

“Excuse me sir, you have to leave the vehicle now.” Keith mused up at the android through half-lidded eyes, still too tired to process anything more than the outline of her face. Letting out an unintelligible “huh?” he sat up from his slouching position, nudging the back of Lance’s head for him to respond.

“This is the final stop, you have to leave the vehicle,” she repeated in the same stern voice before gesturing to the door. Keith raised one hand submissively, lightly nudging Lance again with the other. The mop of hair in his lap started moving as Lance fluttered his eyes open and crystal blue orbs gazed lazily up at him. Keith motioned for him to stand up, and Lance obeyed, his movements slow and syrupy.

“We need to go,” he explained, placing a guiding hand on his shoulder and leading him towards the exit. As the sliding doors opened, Keith turned to the woman, catching his lower lip between his teeth.

“Umm… Where exactly are we?” The android stared at him blankly, eyes completely devoid of any emotion.

“The final stop for line 24 is Barnacle Street,” she said, before shoving them out the door and abruptly closing it behind them. So much for customer service.

Taking his time to observe their new surroundings, Keith concluded that this was a part of Detroit he had yet to explore.

They stood in the middle of a cross-section, the main road taking off to their right, and several side roads springing off in every other direction. On the corner to the left was an organic coffee shop, and across from it a massive neon sign advocated for a stay at “Eastern Motel”. He caught Lance eyeing it longingly, but sighed and shook his head. They couldn’t risk staying somewhere their movements could be traced. Besides, they had no money with them.

Leaving your apartment in a hurry to pick up your severely traumatized android friend didn’t leave much time for bringing necessities. Keith groaned at the thought of not being able to change out of these soaked clothes or brush his teeth, but kept his pessimism to himself. He had to stay strong for Lance, stay positive. If he hesitated now the other boy would surely panic.

Lance was not adapted to the outside world, that itself was enough of a shock for him. Combined with the fact that someone had done unspeakable things to him only hours earlier, he had the right to be a bit crazed, which made the need for Keith to be in his right mind even more urgent.

Passing the coffee shop at the corner, Keith turned right, spotting a 24-hour shop a few yards away from them. His stomach growled, and he realized that half bag of Lay’s was the only food he’d had in hours. However, no money, no food. Therefore, he turned his attention elsewhere, swiping left to see an open laundromat. Jackpot.

Taking Lance by the arm, Keith ran through the pouring rain, slammed the door open and dragged him inside. Once the door had closed, he looked around, sighing in relief when there was no man or android in sight.

Keith immediately started rummaging through the open washers, dryers and laundry baskets, looking for anything the size of a tall, slim male in his twenties. Lance eyed him quizzically, yelping when Keith unexpectedly threw a pair of faded blue jeans in his direction.

“Put them on,” he ordered, and Lance obeyed.

The jeans were clearly too wide, falling down rather than clinging to his hips. Tossing him a new pair, Keith stripped out of his own soaked pants, reaching out to grab the blue jeans from Lance’s feet.

“Guess I’ll take those,” he mumbled, pulling them up one leg at a time. A bit loose, but still a better fit. Tolerable. His boxer briefs were still damp against his crotch, but there was no way he was exchanging them for some stranger’s underpants. Besides, the thought of stripping in front of Lance made him queasy.

Lance’s new pair of black track pants, a single blue stripe riding down the outer thigh, fit him perfectly. Keith caught himself staring at his thighs for a bit too long, the other boy throwing him an amused smirk. Back to his old, flirty habits. Good. Still, Keith felt his cheeks burn slightly as he dropped his gaze and threw Lance a plain navy t-shirt. This was not the time to get flustered, but his heart didn’t seem to care.

Naturally, there were no shoes in the small room, but Lance didn’t seem bothered with walking barefoot. Besides, pedestrians didn’t really look at each others footwear when passing by on the sidewalk. If they were lucky, no one would bat an eye.

Lance insisted on keeping Keith’s leather jacket, topping off his outfit of with a blue and white baseball cap he found at the bottom of a hamper, while Keith refused to part with his fingerless gloves. Exchanging his red formal shirt for a black, oversized hoodie, Keith grabbed a red beanie from an open dryer and pulled it down over his freezing ears. Just what he needed.

“Cute,” Lance remarked, and suddenly Keith’s ears were warmer than a blazing forest fire.

“I don’t think we can stay here…,” he said, eyes flickering across the small room, “Judging from the state of this place, it’s pretty frequently used. We need to hide somewhere more subtle, somewhere they won’t think about looking for us.” They being the police, but Keith didn’t want to say that aloud. Afraid that uttering the words would make their situation feel even direr.

“I’ll scan the area for a suitable place,” Lance said, closing his eyes and scrunching his brows. A few seconds later, he shook his head in frustration. “There’s not much around here… I found an abandoned car over by that small shop, it’s hidden behind a dilapidated clothing store, and I don’t think people pass by on a regular basis.”

“What about the shop itself?” Keith questioned, raising a brow. Sleeping inside a building seemed a lot more tempting than cramming up inside a car.

“The roof is unstable,” Lance answered matter-of-factly, “wouldn’t want to wake up to a brick tile in your head.” Nodding, Keith opened the door and gestured out to the street, the rain now only a slight drizzle against the rooftops.

“You lead the way then.”

It was barely a five-minute walk to the shop, an old, pastel pink building labelled “Romelle’s fashion fantasy”. The store looked like it hadn’t been open in years, and Keith wondered why they hadn’t just removed the building completely.

“A new owner bought the plot after the bankruptcy but never did anything to it. Some middle-aged hippie woman. She passed away a few months ago; I’m guessing they haven’t gotten around to selling it again.” Sometimes it felt as though Lance could read his mind. He had to admit it was mildly unsettling.

Rounding the building, they passed under a broken fence and into the backyard. The abandoned car immediately caught Keith’s eye, and he felt his stomach sink at the thought of spending the night inside it. In the dim lighting from the lampposts, he couldn’t make out if the green he saw was remnants of the actual color of the car, or rather rust from years of neglect from its owner. The front was smashed and the hood open, devoid of the parts that had once made it capable of driving. Some hobo living on the streets probably scored himself a nice meal and some hits for the price of that.

“This it?” Keith asked, kicking the deflated wheel with his shin and flinching at the impact. He knew the answer, but the city was awfully quiet and he wanted to avoid more sinister topics for the time being.

“Yeah,” Lance went over to the passenger side, attempting to open the front door, “It’s locked though, we need to find a way to get in.” Before he could continue, Keith dove for the window shoulder first, smashing the glass. Lance shook his head in annoyance, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Great job dude,” he deadpanned, “now we’ll have to sleep in the rain…”

“What do you mean sleep in the rain?” Keith asked dumbfounded, “I just broke us in!” Lance simply gestured to the now permanently open window, huffing as he watched Keith observe the rain now pouring in through it without hindrance.

“Damn it…” he cursed under his breath, kicking the car once more in frustration. Lance grabbed his shoulder and pushed him away from it, making Keith frown at him.

“Stop doing that, you’re gonna hurt yourself!”

“Fine,” he muttered, “I’m sorry about the car.” A strong arm wrapped around his waist as Lance’s head came to rest on his shoulder.

“It’s ok. We’ll find a cloth or something. Cover it up.”

They stood like that for a minute, neither wanting to part from the other. The comfort of each other was all they had in this cold, hostile world. Keith wondered if this was how Lance had felt all along. Alone, unwelcome. A slave in a castle of evil kings, forced to obey their every command. Keith vowed Lance would never be alone again. At least for as long as he lived.

After a thorough search of the premises, they found a cloth to cover the window, and a dry piece of curtain to use as a makeshift blanket. A very flustered Keith had to ask Lance to turn around so he could take care of his necessities, leaving his companion with some very impertinent questions.

“You use the penis to get rid of excessive fluids in your body? How does that work exactly?” At this point, Keith was looking everywhere but at Lance, clenching and unclenching his damp fists.

“It’s… There’s a tiny hole… God, Lance, can’t you just use your Google function or whatever it is that makes you know stuff?” But Lance still looked at him with those piercing cobalt eyes, curiosity pertinent on his features, now mixed with slight confusion at Keith’s reaction.

“I wanted to ask you,” Lance stated, before his eyes grew wide, “Wait, is that the same hole as...?” All Keith wanted was to be buried six feet under and never resurface. Teaching a robot that looked like a grown man about the anatomy of the male body was certainly not on his bucket list.

“Yes, Lance, it’s the same hole where the semen comes out.” He then waved him off, hoping to avoid more uncomfortable questions, but Lance had only just begun.

“That’s so weird. How do you not pee when you, you know? Does it feel like you have to pee? Or does peeing feel like you’re having an orgasm? Mmmmppphhh” Keith covered Lance’s mouth with his hand before he could make the situation even more embarrassing for him, his cheeks pink and heartbeat uneven.

“Just Google it, ok?” Nodding, Lance eyed him apologetically, stepping back a few feet to give Keith his space. He used this moment to examine Lance again, looking for signs of stress and discomfort. Lance seemed a lot calmer, arms leisurely hanging at his sides, the shaking from before gone and replaced with a slight tapping of his foot against the wet asphalt. However, he was unfortunate enough to be unable to hide his true state of mind from Keith, as the circular light barely visible beneath his cap still flashed yellow. Had it even been blue once since Keith found him?

In two quick strides, Keith was next to him, arms wrapping around his waist and lips finding their way down to his collarbone. Lance gasped at the unexpected contact, baring his neck for Keith to explore. A few more kisses. Up along the neck and across his jawline. Before their lips met, cold and damp from the rain but still soft and pliant against each other. Another quick peck, then Keith drew back and pressed their foreheads together, staring longingly into Lance’s glimmering eyes.

“Let’s get inside before we soak these clothes as well,” Lance nodded, pecking him on the cheek before turning to open the car. Keith’s heart was stuck in his throat, swelling and pounding painfully. What would become of them after tonight?

Wrapped up underneath the old curtain in the backseat of the van, Keith shivered in Lance’s arms, his touch feeling even more cold and metallic in such a lifeless environment. He desperately longed for the feeling of body heat; of being able to share the warmth instead of having his own slowly fade away against a cool surface. Lance, noticing his discomfort, cocked his head and nuzzled his nose into Keith’s neck.

“You ok?” Keith nodded.

“Just cold. And hungry.” He added, feeling his stomach growl impatiently at him. As most upper middle class citizens, hunger was not something Keith had truly experienced before, and closing in on 12 hours without a proper meal was quite unpleasant. Drool formed in his mouth as he fantasized about tender barbeque chicken wings and crispy pecan pie. His father’s old Texan favorites always seemed to come to mind when he was craving.

A light buzzing sound started beneath him, and Keith felt Lance’s body heat up like a seat warmer, snug and inviting. “I’m afraid I can’t conjure any food though,” he smiled apologetically. Keith dived for his mouth, lips curling into a wide grin. Lance giggled against his lips.

“This is perfect,” he mumbled, curling up against the rough leather of his jacket, feeling the scent of his signature perfume blend with Lance’s gasoline odor, “Thank you.”

“… I shouldn’t have called you here.” Lance’s serious tone caught Keith off guard. They had been quiet for a while, enjoying each other’s company, Lance functioning as Keith’s personal radiator. For a quick second he had almost forgotten about the gravity of their situation. Well, almost.

“What do you mean you shouldn’t? I’m your friend, we help each other out, yeah? I’m always here if you need me.” Keith gripped Lance’s hand, running a thumb smoothly over his wrist.

“I killed them, Keith. Or at least I think I did. I beat up two human beings. Flesh and blood. They’re gonna hunt me down and destroy me. Don’t you get it? I don’t want anything to happen to you. You have a life, a family… I’m just a talking piece of plastic.” Lance’s breath hitched at the end, and Keith felt his blood boil. Cupping Lance’s face, his eyes pierced through him like daggers, catching his stare and daring him to drop it.

“Don’t you ever say that again! You’re so much more than that. I… You’re worth more than a thousand of those scumbags, you hear me? If anyone here is worthy of a good life, it’s you, and I’m not giving up on that.” The sincerity in his own voice shocked him, and Keith realized how far he was willing to go for the man in front of him. It was them against the world now, and somehow, Keith was ok with that.

“Cariño…” Hearing the phrase fall from Lance’s lips so lovingly, so vulnerable, Keith had to press back tears.

“You’re perfect, ok? Don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

This time, it was Lance’s lips who found his, with a purpose and determination that knocked Keith’s breath away. They demanded every ounce of his attention, clashing down on him like a raging thunderstorm, crazy, passionate and devoid of control. Lacing Lance’s fingers into his hair, Keith clashed back, molding their lips together like smooth gears turning in synchrony. Nothing existed but Lance’s lips on his, no sounds present but the beating of his thirium pump beneath Keith’s palm. This moment was theirs and theirs only. Away from the prying, judging eyes of the world.

Keith pulled back first, not because he wanted to, but because he needed to breathe. Gasping for air, he mewled as Lance immediately attacked his neck with a flurry of butterfly kisses, light and tingly against his sensitive skin. All he wanted was to keep going, but from this angle, he could once again see the yellow flicker of light pulsing on Lance’s temple. Whatever had happened, they needed to discuss it. Keith needed to calm him down, not be some convenient distraction Lance could use to repress his emotions.

When he pulled back, Lance once again gave him that hurt, apologetic look. He splayed his palm out across his chest, reaching for long, tan fingers with his other hand, desperate to make Lance understand that he didn’t stop him because he was angry. It wasn’t his fault. Never his fault.

“You’re still so tense…” Keith remarked, rubbing his thumb across Lance’s knuckles, “the thing that happened in the club, with those men… You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to, but it’s not good to keep it buried inside like that. It will make it even harder to handle once it finally bursts, and trust me, it will burst in the end.”

Lance looked away, burying his face in the collar of his jacket, “I don’t wanna talk about it… Don’t wanna think about it. Not right now. Just wanna be with you.” Then Lance’s lips slowly found their way back to his neck, and Keith let them. Indulged in the feeling of soft, wet touches on his skin, tongue swirling in patterns along his collarbone.

‘He likes to play with me when all the customers are gone… Likes it when I scream for him…’

What he said back then, it made it sound like this had happened more than just once. That tonight was not the first night Lance had been defenseless and petrified in the hands of a stranger. Someone had been taking advantage of him, and Keith had done nothing to stop it.  Why did he ever leave him there? He should’ve taken him home with him that very first day, if he had done that none of this would’ve happened…

“You sure you’re gonna be ok?” he said breathily, Lance’s tongue against his skin making him disoriented and hazy. Lance responded by simply nuzzling into his neck, removing his baseball cap to tap the back of his head gently. Sighing softly, Keith gave in, carding his fingers through the messy locks, gently massaging Lance’s scalp.

“Cariño,” Lance’s voice was merely a whisper, soft and heavy with exhaustion. When he closed his eyes, Keith kissed both lids gently, feeling Lance’s lashes tickle against his chin. Moving a strand of hair away from his face, Keith caught a glimpse of blue. It lasted only a second, immediately flickering back to that dreadful, lemony tone, but Keith cherished it all the same.

“Goodnight, honey. Sweet dreams.” He said fondly, feeling his own eyes struggling to stay open. As they slipped closed, he caught a final flash of Lance’s LED. Blue. Then everything turned dark.

Chapter Text

Saturday November 6^th 08:35 AM – 08:05 PM

Fluttering his eyes open and attempting to sit upright, Keith groaned at the sudden pain flowering out from his spine to his lower back. Protip: Do not sleep in an abandoned, wrecked car with an android curled up on your lap unless you wish to experience a sore back and massive crick in the neck.

 Speaking of android, Lance still seemed to be in hibernation, his chest cavity expanding and retracting slowly, much like a human’s, and his LED a calming, light blue that occasionally blinked under Keith’s touch.

Moving his hand to push Lance’s hair back from his face, Keith noticed a shift beneath him, and soon, ocean eyes slowly opened, using a few seconds to take in Keith’s appearance before they hastily scanned their surroundings. Sensing no immediate danger, Lance seemed to calm back down, sinking into Keith’s lap with a sigh.

“Hey,” Keith whispered, pressing a faint kiss to his nose. Lance’s respond was merely a nod of acknowledgement, before soft lips found their way to Keith’s coarse ones. Oh well, he certainly didn’t mind this type of greeting.

The kiss was brief, but Keith still felt his breath catch in his throat at the sensation, subconsciously leaning back in after it ended. However, Lance had other plans for him. Soon, Keith’s back was facing him as vibrating hands roamed over his shoulders, attempting to relieve some of the pain in Keith’s aching joints. He moaned softly, unable to decide whether the action was painful or mainly pleasurable. At this point, he didn’t really care as long as he got to have Lance this close.

About to turn back to face Lance, Keith opened his mouth, only to have it clamped by frantic tan hands. Before he could process what happened, he was on the floor of the car, Lance pressed on top of him, his LED raging like a wildfire. The message in his eyes was unmistakable. Don’t move a muscle.

Only then did Keith spot the alternate blinking of red and blue lights, barely visible from their current position, but still striking enough that he should have noticed. Police. Judging from the intensity of the light, they were close by, but not immediately next to them. Keith assumed they had pulled up in front of the abandoned clothing store, which meant they had at least some cover. Still, any abrupt movement they made was likely to be spotted. In essence, they were trapped.

An involuntary shiver went through Keith’s body as Lance’s breath tickled his ear. “They have an android with them! I saw his jacket!” he whispered frantically. An android solely devoted to wipe out other androids for the police task force. Pidge had mentioned that during their research session. If the android Lance had seen was indeed that model, they were in even more trouble than Keith had anticipated.

“Do you think he can track me?” Lance was visibly disturbed by the idea, eyes frantically scanning the area for possible escape routes. His sense of logic seemed to have been swapped with panic, as even Keith could easily tell that Lance was not traceable. For if he had been, there was absolutely no reason for them to still be lying here unharmed. If he had been, the two of them would have been brought into custody by now.

Still, maybe it was good that Lance was on high alert. Telling him now might catch him off guard and cause him to do something stupid. Keith decided to keep his mouth shut and focus on getting them out of this mess. Achingly slow, Keith extended his left arm to grab the door handle on the driver’s side, sliding it open as soundlessly as possible. He then crawled along the floor and onto the ground beneath it like an eel, motioning for Lance to follow him. The police officers were most likely investigating the building. They needed to be quick and take advantage of the little time they had.

Trying to seem as nonchalant as possible, Keith and Lance rose up, hoodie and cap positioned to cover their faces, and slowly started walking towards the opening in the fence. Passing through, they immediately hid by the nearest row of dumpsters. Keith’s pulse was havocking in his throat, his blood surging through his veins in massive torrents. Realizing the gravity of the situation, his knees threatened to buckle out under him, and he reached out towards the closest trash receptacle to steady himself. Bad idea.

Even though the container was quite massive, a small push from Keith was enough for its wheels to start turning, releasing a whine of complaint as old layers of rust rubbed against asphalt and metal. Cursing under his breath, Keith sucked in his stomach in an attempt to hide himself and avoid suspicion, but he could already hear the soft thumping of feet approaching their hiding spot. Casting a quick glance at Lance, he mouthed “run”, before springing to his feet and veering right into the morning traffic.

“I have a positive ID on the android! The serial number matches the blood on the crime scene,” a voice called out, and soon the soft thumps were replaced with the sound of several sets of feet sprinting after them. Lance was by his side in a second, and soon a few steps ahead, probably too caught up in running to notice he was leaving Keith behind. Pushing himself further, Keith ran to the point where the familiar taste of iron appeared in his mouth, causing his stomach to turn in on itself. Determined not to stop, Keith pushed back the urge to vomit, using his adrenaline burst to keep up with Lance to the best of his ability.

It felt as no matter how hard he kept pushing himself, one pair of feet kept getting closer and closer, to the point where Keith was afraid their owner was only seconds away from reaching out and grabbing him by the collar of his hoodie. But he couldn’t give up now. He wasn’t sure exactly what Lance was running towards, but he had to have come up with some sort of plan, right? Lance probably had a built-in map of the entire city; he should be able to find the fastest way out of danger. Believing in him was Keith’s only hope at this point.

His hope was soon smoldered as he turned a corner and saw that they were running towards a massive, barbed fence. On the other side was the ruthless Detroit freeway, crowded with high-speed morning traffic. Even if Keith did manage to climb the fence, there was no way he would make it across alive. Still, he had to. There was nowhere else to go.

Watching Lance struggle to swing his legs over the top of the fence, Keith swore he could feel the breath of his pursuer down his neck. They were too close at this point, he realized. He wouldn’t make it. Instead, he would be forced to watch Lance make a futile attempt at crossing the freeway on his own, which would inevitably end in his death.

As expected, Keith felt cold hands grasp onto him the second he tried to hike his body up and over the fence. Struggling against the vice-like grip, Keith yelled from the top of his lungs, maniacally watching Lance pursue the cross section.

“LET ME GO!” Lance’s eyes flickered up at him, panicked, torn. Feeling tears press from his eyes, Keith kept screaming and struggling, though he knew by now that whoever held him was far stronger than he was. “HE CANNOT CROSS THE FREEWAY, HE WILL DIE! LET ME GO! PLEASE, LET ME GO!”

Hesitancy. Barely present, but still there. Keith could feel the way his pursuer’s grip loosened briefly before tightening around his wrists again. As if he had managed to make him doubt his actions, if only for a second. Quickly glancing down, Keith recognized the pattern on his assailant’s jacket; the blue and black matching Lance’s uniform. There, etched into his sleeve, was a familiar number—RK800.

In a final ditch attempt to break loose, Keith threw himself at the fence with all his might, eyes feral and desperate. “Connor, please. Let me go! I’m begging you!”

As soon as the name left his lips, the android backed up. Keith didn’t know if it was out of surprise or compassion, and he didn’t have time to consider it as he hastily climbed over the fence and slid down the hill to Lance’s side. Checking behind himself, he was met with a red LED and hazed eyes, Connor’s arms hanging limp by his side as one of the cops pulled him away from the fence to avoid more damage. He mouthed a “thank you”, but the stare he got back was hard and blank. Had he reached through to him at all, or was this just a coincidence? Keith would probably never learn the answer to that question.

The police officer stayed by the highway fence, seemingly content with just observing Keith and Lance as they scanned the area looking for a way to reach the middle section. After all, with the police watching their every move, they had no choice but to try. If they went back, they would be caught, and if they stayed on the side of the road, someone would fetch them eventually. They had reached a dead end.

He had blindly trusted Lance to lead the way, which he clearly shouldn’t have. Not that Keith had a plan when he started running for his life. Still, part of him couldn’t help but blame Lance for getting them stuck here, facing certain death.

“Why did you head for the freeway?” He said; voice coated in anger and panic. Lance turned to him, LED blaring, eyes stabbing him like pointed needles. When he opened his mouth, his voice sounded just as enraged as Keith’s was.

“What was I supposed to do? Stroll into the nearest coffee shop? I had to pick somewhere they couldn’t follow!”

“Well, in case you haven’t noticed, it’s impossible to cross this damn street. Only someone with a death wish would attempt it,” Keith spat at him, rubbing his sore knuckles together, eyes occasionally flicking up at the massive challenge lying ahead of them. Lance however, took a determined step towards the crash barrier separating them from the raging traffic, hands clenched in fists at his sides.

“I’d rather die than live as a prisoner a minute longer… I understand if you feel differently. It’s up to you whether you follow,” his voice was firm and confident, but the inconsistent flashing from his forehead and the desperate look in his eyes told a different story.

He was lost, traumatized. There was no way Lance would make it out there alone. Besides, the life that Keith would return to didn’t seem worth living. Locked up for treason. Behind bars as Pidge finished school, unable to graduate. A future separated from his loved ones, knowing the police was after Lance and would stop at no means to find him. He had failed to protect him once; Keith wouldn’t allow himself to do that again. Grabbing Lance’s hand, he wrapped his fingers tight around his fist, giving him the most confident smile he could muster.

“We’re in this together. I’m not leaving you.” Lance only nodded, stepping over the barrier and into traffic. Keith followed, and soon they were mere inches away from the white stripe of asphalt that separated the safe zone from the danger.

Keith saw Lance’s lips moving, but couldn’t seem to catch the sound. Adrenaline was surging through him. Everything seemed to move slower. White noise, like the wind blowing on straws of grass and cars zooming past them at what had to be an illegal pace, suddenly became blaringly loud. When he read “one” from his quivering mouth, Keith realized Lance was counting, and at “go!” he stumbled after him into traffic, blindly trusting Lance's analytic skills to guide them through this mess.

The smell of burnt rubber filled Keith’s nose, and the tailwind from the cars continued to knock him off balance every few seconds. Lance lead the way with a firm grip on Keith’s wrist, intent on not letting him go. He shared his sentiments without uttering a single word. They would either escape together, or end their journey here. Lance refused to leave him behind.

The next minute was all a blur to Keith. Car horns kept honking at him, drivers cursing and attempting to veer out of the way, only to graze the side of another car and cause massive crashes. Keith was responsible for those lives being ruined. Was it fair to trade them for his own?

Clinging to Lance’s arm he collapsed over the barrier to the midsection, but Lance allowed him no rest, pushing forward immediately. Dodging cars and holding on for dear life, Keith yelped in pain as a side mirror hit his shoulder and had him falling headfirst into Lance’s chest. He stumbled backwards, and Keith sensed more than he saw the car surging towards him.

Charging forward with as much momentum he could get, Keith butted into Lance and sent him flying into the crash barrier, hearing the blunt thud of the impact of steel on aluminum as he hit it shoulder first. Stumbling forward, he braced himself for the crash, but instead of something ramming into his chest at full speed, Keith felt a burning sensation in his foot as he leapt towards Lance’s now standing figure. He ignored it; kept reaching, finally feeling a hand catching onto his and pulling him flush against a firm chest.

Keith’s heart was drumming in his ears, drowning out all other sounds and sensations. He sensed the worry in Lance’s gaze as their eyes locked, but couldn’t seem to focus on his face. Disoriented and hazy, Keith dropped his body weight on Lance, unable to pick himself back up. He felt hands grazing his scalp as they ran through his hair, and heard murmurs that seemed like they came from a foreign land. Once again, he caught Lance’s lips moving without sound, unable to focus on the words. It was as if his body was on complete lockdown; unwilling to listen to the commands he gave it. Not even able to let him stand on his own two feet.

A surge of pain jolted through him as his left foot hit the ground, and Keith cried out, tears forming in the crooks of his eyes. His foot was on fire. Burning, boiling. Seething like lava. Strong arms clenched around him, and soon Keith was floating, eyes struggling to stay open as he was carried up the grassy hill towards yet another massive fence.

“I got you, cariño. I got you.” Lance’s voice was merely a whisper, his lips grazing Keith’s cheek and distracting him from the explosions of pain that burst through him. His eyelids were so heavy, and with the adrenaline leaving his system, all Keith wanted was to sleep. Soon, the rocking sensation from Lance carrying him up the hill drifted him off, and darkness surrounded him.

When Keith’s eyes reopened, he found himself alone in a dimly lit building, possibly a shed or a small garage, his foot placed on a small wooden stool, dull and aching. Someone had splinted his ankle with a small piece of wood, and next to him was a small bottle filled with a clear liquid Keith prayed was water and not white spirit.

Bringing it to his mouth and sniffing it warily, he took a tentative sip before chugging down the entire bottle in a matter of seconds. It had been hours since he had any proper nutrition or fluid intake; Keith was famished. As soon as the water had passed his throat, he felt sore and dry again, like the inside of his pharynx was a coated in heavy grit sandpaper. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth, and there was little to no saliva left.

Blinking a few times, Keith lifted his head to scan his surroundings. Tinplated roof, cans of paint spread across the concrete floor, some spilt and dried up again ages ago, greens and blues fading into the grey color of the flooring. Murky white walls with nail markings and signs of heavy tearing from years of extensive use. A section of neatly piled wood next to a crafting bench and an old toolkit, with a worn office chair next to it, the color of its draping reminding Keith of faded blue jeans. In the far right corner was a rudimentary, three tier wooden shelf, filled with everything from car manuals to screws and old paintbrushes. Yes, definitely a shed, and not one that seemed to have been used in a while.

Where was he exactly? They couldn’t have gotten too far with Lance having to carry his unconscious body through a busy city. Somewhere in the outskirts maybe, or just the closest hiding place he could find. Judging from the faint streak of light through the window, it had to be sometime in the afternoon, possibly closing in on dinnertime.

At the thought of dinner, Keith’s stomach rumbled loudly, and he desperately swept his eyes across the room in search of something edible. He was out of luck. Unless Keith wanted to chew on the bristles of used paintbrushes or his own discarded sock, he would have to suffer through his hunger for at least a few hours longer. Lance didn’t even have to worry about these sorts of things. He supposed that was one of the very few benefits of being an android.

Speaking of Lance, why was he not around? There was no way he would abandon Keith here and go off on his own. Had something happened to him? If the police had gotten to them while Keith was unconscious, Lance undoubtedly would have distracted them in order to keep them away from him, risking his own life in the process. What if Lance was trapped, captured, or worse, dead?

That would mean Keith was stuck here to starve. Alone and immobile, his location unknown to everyone but the one he had so desperately tried to protect. The one who was possibly dead now because of his fragility. Keith had wanted so desperately to keep Lance away from harm, but it seemed he had only made his situation even worse.

Now feeling his pulse slamming uncontrollably in his legs, arms and throat, Keith tentatively moved his foot to check if he could stand on it. As soon as it started carrying a hint of weight, pain flashed through Keith’s body, making him whine so loud he probably revealed his location to the entire neighborhood. He was indeed stuck. Good to know.

Letting out a trembling sigh, Keith placed his foot back on the stool and hoisted himself up against the wall for support. If this was where he was to end, he could at least try to make it more comfortable.

As time passed, Keith felt more and more cramped. His sitting position caused blisters to form on his shoulder blades, and a chipped piece of wood protruding from the wall kept poking him in his lower back. He started fantasizing about rain falling from the roof, opening his mouth to try to catch it, only to discover nothing was there but tinplates and support planks. He started seriously considering sucking on his own sweaty sock to get some fluids, but the thought and the smell stopped him in his tracks, and he dropped it in his lap on its way to his mouth.

How long had it been since he woke up? Minutes? Hours? He had no way to measure time except the sun coming through the window. It had almost set now, and Keith could make out the shape of the moon if he turned his head slightly to the left. Close to being full, it looked like someone had sliced off part of it with a potato peeler.  There were no stars, at least not yet. Wherever he might be, Keith hoped he and Lance shared the same view of the sky. That somewhere, somehow, he was alive and free.

The creaking sound of a door opening and closing caused Keith to suddenly jolt awake. Had he been sleeping? How? When? How long? His head was spinning and his temples throbbing as though he had a bad case of a hangover. Opening his eyes, he only saw a glimmer of colors and a silhouette slowly approaching him, soon hovering close to him like a predator hunting its prey. Crossing his arms over his face, Keith ducked down as much as he could with his limited control of his body.

The expected impact never came. Instead, the shadow shoved something into his mouth before tilting his head back. As soon as he felt the first drop of water hit his tongue, Keith desperately started sucking; aiming to retrieve as much as he possibly could from this heavenly source of nutrition. He was so relieved tears sprouted from his eyes.

Once the container was empty, Keith whined and opened his mouth, desperately craving more of the liquid relief. His prayers must have been heard, because it only took seconds before another bottle took its place. Swallowing greedily and spilling water all over him, Keith finally managed to open his eyes, now with regained sight. The overwhelming shock caused him to both cry, tremble and laugh simultaneously.

“You… You’re back. You’re alive.” Lance moved down to hug him, but his cap struck Keith in eye, causing him to flinch and move back. “Ouch!”

“Sorry… I forget I’m wearing that sometimes.”

Lance seemed unscathed, his clothes and face in the same state as Keith had last seen them. His shoes, however, was a new addition. A pair of black Nikes. Simple, but clearly expensive. Velcro instead of shoelaces. He would claim it was for convenience, but Keith had a suspicion that Lance found tying shoes to be more of a challenge than he had anticipated. Allowing himself to be amused, he chuckled slightly at the image. Lance bent over on one knee with furrowed brows, desperately trying to understand how to connect the loops and make a proper knot. Maybe Keith could teach him once they got out of this mess. There was so much Lance had yet to learn.

The backpack was also new, making Keith wonder what exactly he had done to retrieve these items. His thoughts were soon replaced by hunger as Lance opened the zipper to reveal a handful of energy bars, at least five packages of beef jerky, and something that looked an awful lot like freeze-dried survival meals. Without an ounce of shame left, Keith dove forward to tear open the nearest pack of food he could find, and soon his mouth was full dried, salty strips of beef. Not his favorite by far, but who was he to be fussy in this situation?

Two packages of beef jerky and three energy bars later, Keith looked up, face full of crumbs and melted chocolate, to find Lance gazing at him fondly. Locking eyes with him, Lance slowly leaned forward to wipe chocolate from the corner of Keith’s mouth, his stare leaving him breathless and dazed. He subconsciously leaned forward, and was met with a pair of soft lips grazing his forehead. The action sent tingles through his entire body. Now that he had satiated his immediate needs, Keith could finally appreciate the fact that Lance was here. Lance was here, and they were both alive. His heart sang.

“I’m sorry I left you here. There was no way to get through to you, and I needed to get something for your foot. Then I remembered you guys have to eat and... mmmpfffh.” Lance’s voice was muffled by Keith’s lips, and soon he sighed and leaned into the kiss, lips tangoing with Keith’s effortlessly. When he pulled back, Keith could feel a string of saliva running from his lip, but was too exhausted to bother with it.

“Doesn’t matter,” he mumbled as Lance propped down next to him, moving Keith’s head so he could rest on his shoulder, “you’re here now.”

“Speaking of… Where exactly is here?” Keith asked, nuzzling into Lance’s shoulder, taking in the comforting scent of mint and gasoline. Lance shrugged his shoulders.

“This was the closest place I could find. Secluded and abandoned. Not so close to the road that someone would look for us here, not so far away that I had to carry you through the streets,” he glanced down at his hands before he continued, and Keith could sense a hint of guilt in his voice, “I wanted to take you to a doctor, but… I was scared. We’d probably just end up being found again and…” he looked down at Keith’s swollen ankle, more than twice its usual size, and suddenly sprang up, “Right! I got something for your foot! Why didn’t I fix that right away? I’m so stupid!” he scolded himself, frantically rummaging through the backpack. A few seconds later, he smiled triumphantly, holding an ice pack over his head.

He shook it twice before squeezing it tightly to his chest, pleasantly surprised when the package went from room temperature to freezing cold within seconds. He then grabbed Keith’s sock and used it to tie the pack to his foot, making sure the cloth he had put there when he splinted it was stuck between the ice and his skin. The chilling sensation caused Keith to moan pleasantly, sinking back against the wall.

“Good?” Lance questioned, cocking his head.

“So good…” Keith whispered.

Lance then rose to his feet and turned to pick up the now empty water bottles.  He looked at Keith, and he nodded in response to the silent question. More water? That sounded heavenly.

“I’m gonna have to leave you again. Only for a minute. There’s a small stream of water running by just beneath here.” Keith pouted, drawing a small laugh from Lance’s lips, before nodding again.

Another bottle of water later, the fog that had been clouding Keith’s mind finally lifted. The wariness from earlier that morning returned tenfold, and he started frantically foraging his mind for any sort of plan for what to do next. Then he looked at his ice pack, the bag full of food, and then at Lance, before realization hit. They had no money. How on Earth had he…?

“Lance, please tell me you didn’t steal this…” the rueful look that met him only served to confirm his suspicions.

“What was I supposed to do? Let you starve to death? You were hurting, I…” Lance gestured wildly, yellow flashing from his right temple, voice defensive and panicked. Gripping one of his shoulders, Keith willed him to calm down.

“I know, I know. Just… What if someone saw you? What if there were cameras or…? We need to leave, now!” Keith attempted to stand up, but whimpered from the pain. Lance hovered over him before he could try it again.

“You’re in no condition to leave here… At least wait ‘till the ice have gotten its job done.” Keith opened his mouth to protest, but Lance gently sat him down, scooting him forward so he could lean against his chest instead of the painful splinters of the wall.

Relaxing, Keith let Lance run tan fingers through his messy, dark hair, feeling gentle tugs of pain when they got stuck in his tangles, but not enough to prompt Keith to stop him. A few more minutes wouldn’t hurt.

They sat there in silence for a while, Lance repeating the motion over and over, suddenly growing faster and more forceful. Oww! Keith yelped at a particularly hard tug, but Lance didn’t stop, grasping onto his hair like a lifeline. That was when Keith noticed the slight tremble in his thighs, along with a small, broken sob, before what was unmistakably tears hit his neck.

Looking up, he saw red. Red like a crackling log fire. Red like an intense laser pointer piercing through the room. Red fluorescing down at him as tears kept streaming down Lance’s scrunched up face. Though he didn’t need to breathe, his lung components were desperately heaving for oxygen, the throbbing of his thirium pump so loud it echoed in Keith’s ears.

“Cariño…?” his voice sounded swollen and foreign to Keith, hands finding their way to his upper arms, holding them in a vice grip. What the trigger had been, Keith was unsure of, but he recognized a panic attack when he saw one. Especially one this violent.

Can androids even have panic attacks? Keith wondered as he yanked Lance’s hands loose and twined them with his own, placing them over his heart. He focused on slowing his somewhat riled up pulse, taking slow and steady breaths, never moving his head or breaking eye contact.

“Lance, how many planks are holding up the ceiling? Let’s count them, yeah? Deep breaths.” He didn’t wait for an answer, simply tilting Lance’s head up towards the roof, squeezing his hands tightly to ground him. “One,” he started, letting his head drop back to rest on Lance’s shoulder again, “come on, your turn. You can do it.”

“T… Two,” Lance stammered, pulling Keith tighter, “three… four…”

“That’s it,” Keith encouraged, feeling Lance’s breathing slow down as he focused on the task, “Good job. Keep going.”

“Five, six… Keith, I’m scared.” Ocean eyes flickered down to meet amethyst, and Keith gave him a reassuring smile.

“It’s gonna be OK. I’m right here with you. Don’t fight it. Just let it pass.” Lance nodded, shuddering as he took another deep breath.

“Seven, eight… nine, ten… Eleven. There are eleven,” he sighed in exhaustion, head dropping to rest in Keith’s nest of unruly hair. His LED flashed rhythmically.

Red, red, yellow. Red, yellow, red. Yellow, yellow. Blue.

They stayed silent for a minute, Lance sobbing quietly into Keith’s hair, and Keith squeezing their hands tighter to his chest. Then Lance lifted his head, unwrapping his arms and folding them gently in Keith’s lap.

“What was that?” he said, the last of his trembles finally subsiding.

“Panic attack.” Keith replied, before adding, “You know, whatever is bothering you, you don’t have to carry it alone. I’m here if you need to… sort out your thoughts.” They both knew what he was referring to, but Keith didn’t want to bring up his trauma without Lance’s permission. He had no right to know what exactly had happened that night, nor how it had suddenly thrown Lance into this hysteric state. A part of Keith didn’t even want to know what terrible things those men had done to him; fearing what he might do if he found out.

“I just… Stay with me,” Lance begged, “I’m so scared of losing you.”

“I’m staying,” Keith reassured, which seemed to put the conversation to an end. Butterfly kisses made their way down his neck, distracting him from whatever was about to occupy his mind. Tilting his head to give Lance better access, Keith hummed appreciatively at the gesture.

“I guess you’re right,” Lance said between kisses, “we should probably leave this place. The problem is we have nowhere to go.” Worry seeped into his voice, and Keith so desperately wished he could make Lance happy again. Wished they could just leave here and go to the park. Then Keith could introduce him to Shiro and his friends, let him stay at his apartment, make sure no one ever took advantage of him again. Unfortunately, that opportunity had long since gone with the wind.

“I’m sorry I dragged you into this, Keith. I…”

“None of what happened is your fault. You’re not allowed to think like that,” Keith interrupted him, voice heavy with conviction, “We’ll figure something out. I know we will.” Keith didn’t know if he was reassuring Lance, or himself. Probably both.

“I feel dirty… Their smell still lingers on me,” Lance’s voice was like a faint whisper, his words filled with implications that made Keith want to punch someone in the gut. “I can feel their touches; hear the nasty words they said to me… Feel his hand slip around my throat…” Lance’s voice cracked and he sobbed again, pulling Keith closer to his chest. Keith wrapped his arms around him as best he could, holding Lance in an awkward embrace.

“You’re not dirty… You’re beautiful.” The words carried a sentiment so strong it scared him a little, but Keith wouldn’t hide whatever feelings bubbled up in that moment. Lance needed him, and Keith would provide. That was all that mattered. He could figure out the details later.

Lance collapsed onto him with full force, their lips whipping up a storm together, and Keith let him clutch onto him as hard as he could, even though it made his muscles ache and his skin red with handprints. The kiss tasted salty and metallic from the tears flowing into his mouth, but that only fueled Keith to kiss Lance harder, silently vowing to make them all go away. They stayed like that for a long time, lips drifting apart minutely to allow them to breathe.

“Beautiful,” Keith repeated; making sure his message came across. Feeling Lance nuzzle his head into his shoulder, he closed his eyes.

Silence followed as they basked in each other’s embrace, but soon Keith’s stomach rumbled again, reminding him that his hunger had far from subsided. He whined in protest as Lance untangled them and got to his feet, fishing a green packet labeled “chicken curry” from his backpack. Lance had felt so warm up against him; he didn’t want it to end.

Still, Keith’s mouth watered at the thought of a proper meal, before he was cruelly reminded they didn’t have any warm water. Then he watched as Lance poured what was left in their bottles into the package, stirring it with a splinter he picked from the wall. Instead of handing it over to him, Lance held onto the package for a while, a low rumbling sound escaping from his core. Keith eyed him skeptically, perplexed by his strange behavior. Lance only smiled at him, before finally handing him the package, which Keith snatched from his hand as soon as it entered his range.

“Sorry I made you wait,” Lance chuckled, “figured I could at least try to make it more pleasant for you.” As the words registered, Keith noticed the warmth radiating off the package, and let out an embarrassing squeal of joy before he started shoving the contents into his mouth. It wasn’t cooked per se, more like a lukewarm sensation in his throat; but Keith swore it was the best meal he had tasted in his life.

“Guess I’m forgiven,” Lance laughed, watching Keith with an amused expression, head resting in his palm. Keith only gave a thumbs-up between mouthfuls, causing that beautiful laugh to bloom in Lance’s throat again. He could listen to that laugh forever.

After he finished eating, the tension in the room slowly started growing again. It was getting late, and they both knew that nighttime was probably their best chance to travel unseen through the streets.

Travel to where though? Keith had excluded all his friends and family from the list of potential hideouts, not wanting to drag them into his mess. That left him with… Well, nowhere. Every part of the city was unsafe for them, and they had no allies after what happened to Carl and Markus. The unpleasant reminder filled Keith with dread. He would have to break the news to Lance eventually. It would be a hard blow. Markus had been Lance’s only connection to the outside world besides Keith—his only friend.

Discussing potential hiding spots and routes out of the city, either Keith or Lance seemed to discard every option the other came up with immediately. Stealing a car—too easy to trace. The train network—likely filled with guards at every stop from here to the state border. Buses—impossible to sneak on board without a ticket, and so small it was hard not to be recognized by other passengers. Traveling on foot had them dependent on finding more locations like this to hide in, not to mention the difficulty of Keith’s foot being quite dysfunctional. It seemed they came across a new problem no matter what angle they attacked from; it was exhausting.

Keith sighed in frustration, pulling at his hair. If he only hadn’t damaged his foot this would have been far easier. At least the swelling seemed to have calmed down quite a bit by now, but every time he suggested he could walk, Lance adamantly cut him off. It was his fault they were stuck like this, the inconveniences of him being human hindering their progress. Maybe it was best if Lance left him here and went off on his own. That way, at least one of them had a chance. Bringing up that idea made Lance even more determined to find a solution that included the both of them, which was touching but did nothing to alleviate Keith’s anxiety.

Lance had been pacing back and forth for minutes now, making Keith both nervous and restless. His body was aching, and he desperately wanted to move about to loosen his muscles and relieve some stress. Being stuck there on the floor made him feel so helpless. All he wanted was to be useful; instead, he was the piece of wood stuck between the spokes of Lance’s wheel, making him unable to move forward. The disgruntlement had him fuming.

“Wait…” Keith perked up at the hopefulness in Lance’s voice, hoisting himself up and eyeing him expectantly, “there might be somewhere…” he came to a stop and leaned against the wall on the opposite side of the room. “This might be a long shot, but when I was at Eden Club, I heard the other androids talking about this wealthy man who helped androids cross the border. There were two of them, two girls. They always whispered about escaping once we were locked up in the storage rooms, worshiping this guy’s name like he was some android-saving vigilante. What was his name again…? Loran, Lothir? Something like that.” Lance bit his lip, trying to conjure up the name from his mind, then shook his head “Never mind. The important part is that I think I overheard his address once. If I only backtrack through my memory, I can probably retrieve it. What do you think?”

Crossing the border? Keith assumed he meant to Canada, considering their current location. Didn’t Adam have family there? Once they crossed the border, no officer of the law could touch them. All Keith had to do was locate Adam’s family through the registries and contact Shiro from there. He probably wouldn’t be able to move back, but at least in this way he could stay in touch with his friends and family. This plan could actually work. Keith felt his lips pulling upwards, but didn’t dare hoping too much yet. There were still things that could go wrong. Holding back his smile, he turned to Lance and nodded affirmatively.

“It’s worth a shot. Let’s just hope it’s not too far away,” he said, gesturing to his useless blob of a foot, “I mean, I can probably walk a while now that the swelling has gone down, but it’ll be painful. If I overdo it the injury might get worse.” Lance nodded in agreement, before straightening up, legs shoulder-width apart, arms hanging limply by his sides. Then the heavy blinking begun as he started journeying through his mind to access buried memories. The intensity of his LED kept rising until the entire room was basking in a blue hue, and Keith noticed the now strangely familiar sight of dilated pupils behind his lashes, almost covering his blue iris completely.

This time, he wasn’t as scared. Even though it looked strange, the entire process seemed natural to Lance, and Keith could tell he was in control the entire time. The involuntary spasms and jerks he was used to didn’t show themselves, and Lance’s presence remained calm and blue during the entire operation. He looked almost peaceful where he stood, despite the oddity of the situation.

The way he brought himself back to the present was different too. More of a controlled pull than the violent convulsing Keith had seen previously. Still, he had to admit he was a bit relieved when Lance reopened his eyes, the crystal blue rim finally visible around his pupils again. The massive grin on his face made it evident that his search had been successful.

“I found it! I found the address!” he beamed, seemingly proud of his accomplishments. Well, reasoned Keith, this was likely the first time Lance had dived that deep into his own memory and returned unharmed. He was probably even more relieved than Keith was.

 “I’m accessing the maps now; it doesn’t seem to be too far. I was afraid it’d be much worse,” then he eyed Keith’s foot worriedly, “You will have to walk for quite some time though… This route looks like it would take about 1 hour on foot, but I’m guessing we’ll have to take it a bit slower than that.” Keith was already lowering his foot from the stool, eager to test his ability to walk again. He wouldn't be a burden to Lance, not this time.

“I can handle it,” he smiled confidently, removing the ice pack and the splinter, retrieving his sweaty sock to put it on, wincing slightly as he pulled it over his ankle. Then he hesitantly lifted himself up, gripping to the wall and placing the majority of his weight on his right side. OK, this was not too bad. He could work with this.

Taking a few steps towards Lance, Keith bit the inside of his lip not to show any signs of pain. He groaned inwardly at the thought of this feeling persisting for an hour, possibly two, but shoved the thought away as soon as it appeared. He had to stay strong. This was their only chance to get away. If they didn’t leave tonight, there might not be a tomorrow at all.

“Are you sure it’s OK?” Lance was with him within seconds, throwing Keith’s arm over his right shoulder to make it easier for him to walk. Keith pursed his lips and nodded, trying to relax the muscles of his face as he felt another flash of pain go through him. Pain is an illusion. Pain is an illusion, he chanted to himself as he moved forward. This was going to be a long night.

It felt a bit better after the initial few steps and another big sip of the water bottle. Keith was limping around on the grass, trying to identify which type of movement was least painful for him, while Lance was inside the shed packing their bag and removing all traces of their stay. When he returned, he grabbed Keith’s bottle and jogged down to the stream to refill it.

Glancing back at the shed one last time, Keith thanked whatever higher power had kept them both alive until this point, and prayed for it to watch over them as they continued their journey. They sure needed all the help they could get.

Chapter Text

Saturday November 6^th 10:11 PM – Sunday November 7^th 00:57 AM

The rain was pouring down from above, drenching Keith and forcing him to pull up his hoodie. He was shivering, teeth clattering hard as he half-walked half-limped down the cobbled road towards an iron gate covered in vines encasing a towering brick mansion, pulling his leather jacket tighter around him.

He had been reluctant the first few times Lance had offered him to wear it, rationality lost as he thought his android companion might freeze as well. In the end, Lance had simply removed the garment and wrapped it resolutely around Keith’s shoulders, refusing to argue with his ridiculous logic anymore. In retrospect, he regretted not having accepted it earlier.

In the faint glow of the moon and some nearly dead traffic lights, mostly blinded by layers of dark, foggy clouds and heavy rain, the mansion looked like it was ripped from the pages of a particularly disturbing horror novel, waiting to devour every guest that was ridiculous or desperate enough to enter. As for Keith and Lance – they were both.

Feeling his stomach rumble again, Keith reached into his pocket to search for another piece of jerky, wincing a little as he ripped the package open with his mouth. It truly wasn’t the best tasting food, nor the most nutritious, but there was no use in complaining. At least he had something to eat, many people were far less lucky.

Sensing his discomfort, Lance smiled at him apologetically, shrugging his shoulders. The interaction made Keith feel even guiltier. Lance had risked a lot for him, had went out of his way to make sure Keith had food, water and supplies for his hurt ankle. He had no right to show any signs of complaint or discomfort. Keith looked away quickly, kicking a piece of gravel with his healthy foot, avoiding cobalt eyes that he knew were still on him.

“Cariño?” Lance said, and a warm hand came to squeeze Keith’s own, intertwining their fingers. Another hand lifted his chin up, caressing his cheek as confused blue eyes met sad purple ones. “Are you ok?”

“I’m fine,” Keith assured him, “just tired. This certainly isn’t making my ankle heal any faster.” It wasn’t a complete lie—Keith was exhausted—but they both knew that wasn’t the answer Lance was probing for. Still, he seemed to be satisfied for now, avoiding asking any further questions about Keith’s mental state. His hand however, remained in Keith’s, giving gentle, affirmative squeezes as they walked down the pavement together, closing in on their destination.

“So this is it, huh?” Keith asked as they stopped by the front steps. Lance nodded, hiking Keith’s arm around his shoulders and aiding him up to the front door. He was perfectly capable of doing it on his own, but appreciated the help nonetheless. Besides, not having to put any weight on his damaged ankle made the ascent a lot less painful.

Now that he was closer, Keith saw that the vines covering the gate were also climbing up the building and wriggling around its windowsills, lanterns and pillars, making it seem even more ominous. The place was even worse for wear than he had thought, the massive wooden door cracked in several places, pieces of wood sticking out at odd angles. Cobwebs were hanging from the bannister, suggesting a lack of regular use and maintenance. Keith shivered involuntarily, and almost jumped at the responding squeeze from Lance’s hand.

“I’m sure it’s more inviting on the inside,” Lance said, but Keith could see him gulp as he reached out for the doorbell. Had he said that to calm down Keith, or himself?

A long, metallic ringing noise followed, and they could hear footsteps calmly approaching from the other side. The door creaked open to reveal a handsome man in his late twenties, clad in a dark purple robe, silver hair slicked back from his face, perfectly trimmed brows raising slightly in response to the unexpected visitors. Lance moved to straighten his tie, before realizing he was clad in a lot less presentable outfit than usual, resorting to patting down his soaked t-shirt instead.

“Ummm, hi…” he started, eyes everywhere but on the man in front of him, clearly intimidated by his dignified presence. The man stared at him impatiently, one hand still on the doorknob, ready to slam it in their faces should he find their presence invasive.

“What do you want?”

“Are you Lothir..?” The look on the man’s face said that he was clearly not a Lothir, and found the name highly insulting. Lance went on regardless, his nervous babbling getting the better of him. “A friend of mine told me you might be able to help us. Or, not a friend, more of an acquaintance. But anyway, we’re in big trouble and…” Lance’s nails dug into his skin, causing marks to form, “we could really use a hand.”

“The name is Lotor,” the man answered in an annoyed tone, but his expression softened slightly as he took in their disheveled state. “I don’t see how I can be of help to you. This is not a shelter for the lost and homeless. I’m afraid I have more than enough to care for already.”

Then his eyes shot open, mouth curling with amusement and interest. Keith didn’t understand where the sudden enthusiasm came from, and glanced at Lance to see if he was as lost a he was. What met him was Lance’s exposed forehead, LED flashing blue and steady, his baseball cap resting in his hand.

“Please,” he spoke so softly it could have been a whisper. Lotor only nodded before quickly ushering them inside, slamming the door shut behind him.

“I’m terribly sorry for my rudeness,” he smiled, taking Keith’s jacket and hanging it on the coat-rack by the door, before guiding them to the living room, “I rarely get android visitors anymore, it seems it gets harder and harder to escape the authorities these days.” Lance nodded in agreement, settling down on the couch next to a newly lit fireplace.

The comforting warmth of the fire calmed Keith, but he still felt suspicious of the stranger and his sudden mood change upon seeing Lance’s LED. Sure, he was seemingly helping androids cross the border, but that didn’t excuse his lack of common decency towards them. Before Lance showed him he was a machine, he had been more than prepared to leave them to rot on the streets, not even offering them to stay the night or borrow a phone. Keith didn’t trust him.

Lance however, seemed completely at ease now that they had been let inside, smiling politely at Lotor and encouraging Keith to warm himself by the fire. He explained to Lotor that Keith was human, and he immediately whistled, causing someone to hastily scurry down the stairs from the top floor. Emerging through the door was another android, built like a crossover between an MMA fighter and a construction worker. A yellow bandana pulled back his hair, contrasting with his dark skin. This guy could manhandle both Lance and Keith within seconds, no doubt. The shivers coming down Keith’s spine were not from the cold anymore.

“Hunk!” Lotor called, and the android saluted, “please bring my guests some dry clothes; I believe they will fit my size rather nicely.” The android nodded courtly before climbing back up the stairs, returning with two pairs of black jeans, one blue and one red formal shirt, and fresh pairs of underwear and socks.

“I will leave you two to change while I bring down some refreshments,” Lotor said, rising from his chair and following his android back into the hallway. Keith mumbled a "thank you" before grabbing the blue shirt and tossing it in Lance’s direction, leaving the red one for himself. When he turned to see if he had caught it, he was met with a bare chest and chiseled abs on display, leaving him dumbfounded, not sure where to put his eyes.

It wasn’t that he hadn’t seen Lance’s bare chest on several occasions, but that had only been when he was on duty at the club… Well, except for their first meeting. Keith had seen a lot more back then, but Lance didn’t even remember that, and watching him in a private space like this felt strange and uncomfortable.

Because Keith remembered. He remembered it so vividly it was hard to chase the incoming thoughts from his mind. And even though Lance had seemed ok with it when he told him, he still somehow felt like he had used him that night, indulged in him when he had no say in what he wanted to do. Violated him somehow.

“It’s ok, you can look,” Lance joked from across the room, expertly dissipating the tension, “I know you like to watch me.”

Keith couldn’t see the wink, but he was sure there had been one. He turned back around, allowing himself to take in the view, a light pink dusting his cheeks as Lance made a point of flexing just to embarrass him.

“This isn’t fair, you know,” he flirted, slipping his arms into the shirt before unbuttoning his pants, “you’ve seen my chest on so many occasions, but I still haven’t had a proper look at yours.” He was about to discard his boxers as well, when Keith motioned for him to stop.

“Can we please do that with our backs turned?” Lance hummed in agreement, smirk still evident on his lips.

Keith wasn’t sure why he was so flustered, but blamed the situation at hand. This was not the right time to see Lance naked and have all those memories resurface with even more vigor. Besides, part of him was scared Lance would be underwhelmed when he saw him; that all the praise from that night had been an act, an effect of his programming.

Turning around, Keith dropped his pants and underwear, exchanging them for the clean set provided by Lotor. Then he proceeded to discard his hoodie in exchange for the red shirt, and could practically feel Lance’s eyes on his back as he pulled it off. He tucked his beanie as far as possible into his back pocket, thinking it might be useful later. When he turned around, Lance gave him a low, appreciative whistle.

“Red looks good on you, like always,” he smiled, closing the distance between them. Keith managed to choke out an awkward “thanks”, but was rendered speechless when Lance moved to tuck a strand of hair behind his ear, blue oceans staring at him with such immense fondness. Keith felt as though he was melting on the spot.

Their tender moment was interrupted with a soft “ahem” coming from the door. Keith looked up, expecting to see Lotor and his android companion, but was instead met with something much more terrifying. In the doorway next to Lotor, who carried himself with utmost poise despite this intrusion, stood a being that resembled a tiger, only with dark fur and grey stripes. Blue markings embellished its ears, an orange LED flashing in the center of its forehead as it bared its teeth at them. Lance tensed beside him, quickly moving to stand between Keith and the new threat. However, this did nothing to calm him, as he didn’t wish for Lance to get hurt any more than himself.

“Kova, stand down,” Lotor commanded the cat, seemingly unaffected by the new layer of tension added to the room. “Fear not, she only strikes at my command.” Somehow, this didn’t reassure Keith in the slightest, and he found himself taking a few steps back, intent on creating as much distance between him and the beast as possible.

“She is just my means of security. Surely, you understand. I’ve had a lot of people with less than noble intentions running down my door through the years. Wealth gives you many a good thing, but it also creates enemies.” He then waved at Hunk, who brought forth a tray filled with freshly baked croissants. Keith’s mouth immediately watered, but he stopped himself in his tracks. What if Lotor tried to poison him?

“Look Keith, food!” Lance said, his face gleaming with joy. He didn’t seem to have the same doubts regarding this man that Keith had, despite being somewhat cautious of his pet and lackey. In fact, he immediately went over to grab two croissants, proceeding to shove the baked goods into Keith’s hands. “You should eat. I know you’ve been struggling with the rations I got for you,” he said, worry sipping into his tone. How could Keith say no to that smile, those soft, caring eyes? Poison be damned, Lance would protect him if he had to.

After chewing on his first bite for far longer than necessary, feeling for any kind of tangy, unusual flavors or textures, Keith gave in and immediately devoured the two croissants, eagerly reaching for more. The texture was light and fluffy, and the chocolate filling had just the right amount of richness, melted to the perfect consistency for eating. It was heavenly.

While Keith munched down on three more croissants, Lotor and Lance discussed the business of fake passports and safe passage across the border to Canada. Lotor seemed to know his way around the Detroit underground, referring to getaways and strategies for avoiding the police with a tone that displayed hard-earned experience and expertise. His voice was always strictly formal, and Keith sometimes caught him uttering unfamiliar words and phrases, sounding more British than American.

Keith only listened vaguely, keeping his attention on the cat-like creature that was seemingly asleep next to its master’s chair, but perked up at the mention of a possible tracker on Lance’s person.

“What do you mean? If they had one of those, wouldn’t they have found us by now?” he questioned, brows furrowing in doubt and confusion.

“It’s not an exact science,” Lotor replied matter-of-factly, reminding him of Pidge, “the data points will give them a range of a few hundred meters they would need to scout, but ultimately, they will know your approximate location at all times, and be able to make adjustments to their plans based on that.” Lance looked uneasy, running his fingers through already disheveled hair, throwing Keith a distressed glance.

“Maybe that’s how they found us in that car! It all makes sense now! They knew we were in the area, but didn’t have our exact position, so they scouted.” Keith wanted to point out the many flaws in this logic, like the fact that the police knew they couldn’t have gotten far with Lance injured, the sight of Keith’s bike, or the security camera footage and time stamps, but couldn’t seem to find his words. His throat felt dry and closed off, and the look in Lotor’s eyes made him terrified of behaving in a way that might upset him. After all, they were at a major disadvantage in both numbers and manpower, and Lotor probably had more lackeys where these came from.

“That may very well be,” Lotor nodded at him, raising from his chair, “I suggest we remove it at once, before they become aware of your movements.” Keith opened his mouth to protest, but quickly shut it when Lotor gazed at him. The doubt overflowed his mind, and his questions went unanswered. If they had been that easy to track, why hadn’t the police raided them while they were staying in the shed? It wasn’t too far from the freeway, and would be easy to find with the type of technology Lotor was describing.

When Lance rose again, Keith immediately grabbed his hand, intent on keeping him close. Splitting up now would not be a good decision. As he suspected, Lotor gestured for him to sit back down, his expression still unreadable.

“There’s no need for you to join us Keith, the tracker will be efficiently removed within a few minutes. Stay here and rest up, have some refreshments,” he motioned for Hunk to bring him a glass of water from the side table. Keith shook his head.

“No thank you, I’m feeling much better,” he lied, mostly for Lance’s sake, “and I would like to accompany my friend to make sure everything goes as planned,” he added, trying his best to weed out the doubt from his voice, knowing he sounded distrusting. Right now, Keith needed to convince Lance that he was well rested, and Lotor that he believed in the clearly forged story he was feeding them, keeping them both happy and blissfully unaware as he plotted a possible escape route. Easier said than done.

“I can assure you nothing bad will happen. Lance, we can both see your friend here is exhausted, and that injury seems rather serious, wouldn’t it be better for him to stay here?” The subtle cunning in Lotor’s voice, combined with the insistent shaking of Keith’s head, made Lance’s LED flicker from blue to yellow, his grasp on Keith’s hand tightening, brows narrowing in confusion.

“Keith stays with me,” he said, his tone implying that this wasn’t up for negotiation. Lotor huffed slightly, before snapping his fingers, lips quirking to the side in an amused smirk. Hunk moved with the speed and preciseness of a guillotine, and before Keith could react, the sound of broken glass echoed through the room, combined with a throbbing pain in the back of his head.

As he fell to the ground, his vision faltered, blood running down the sides of his face in streams. Faintly, as from a great distance, he could hear Lance crying and flailing, followed by Lotor’s distinguished chuckle.

“You had to make it troublesome, hadn’t you, LX700?” So he knew. Keith tried to squirm on the floor, desperately wanting to turn so he could see his surroundings, but his body was incapable of moving, the trauma to his head too strong for him to make out his surroundings.

“While I left you here to change, I took it upon myself to search for any missing android models. You’re quite the famous specimen, one of a kind even. Delivering you to the police would give a fine reward,” Lotor rubbed his hands together, “Then again, selling you on the black market might be even more rewarding.”

“¡Vete al diablo!” Lance spat enraged, and Keith could hear him scream as he fought to free himself from what he assumed to be Hunk’s rock solid grip.

“Spanish, huh? They really went far trying to turn you into the typical hot Latino fantasy. Maybe I should take you for a test ride before I decide on what to do with you. Of course, I would have to get you more pliant first.”

“¡No me toques! ¡Vete pa casa’e la pinga!”

It was as if Keith’s entire body had caught fire, massive black flames engulfing him in rage. He tried to will the flames towards Lotor, desperate for him to get a taste of his disgust and hatred for him, even though he knew they were only an illusion. Keith tried to move once more, but his body was as respondent as a log of wood. Tears formed behind his eyelids, but he didn’t have the strength to open them, the pressure from the flooding water leaving them sore and aching.

He had promised that nothing would happen to him. Keith had promised Lance would be safe, and yet here they were. Lance was about to be violated again and there was nothing he could do about it. Defeat seeped into his body, slumped on the floor like a pig left for slaughter. At least he wouldn’t be able to see it, but that wouldn’t make Lance’s experience any less painful.

“Hunk, help me escort our friend to the operation’s table. I will need to make some adjustments in order to have him finalized for sale.” They were leaving? With Lance? No way! With an immense struggle, Keith once again tried to move, resulting in him spasming slightly on the floor. However, it was enough to catch both Lotor and Lance’s attention.

“Seems you did a bad job of incapacitating this one Hunk,” Lotor mumbled, and Keith could hear his feet dragging across the carpet towards him, “if you want something done properly, you have to do it yourself.”

“¡Cariño!” The scream was the last thing Keith heard before something hard hit his head, separating him from consciousness.

When he woke, Keith found himself in what seemed to be a storage room, dumped next to some taped polystyrene boxes like a bag of clothes meant for goodwill. He tried to move his hands, only to feel coarse ropes chafing against his wrists and ankles. A dull ache came from the back of his head, and his right cheek felt as though it had been split open with a knife. Great, as if this situation could get any worse.

Wait, Lance! Where’s Lance? Is he ok? Fuck, I need to get out of here, fast! Keith struggled against the ropes, but soon realized they wouldn’t loosen on their own accord. Damn it! Ok Keith, calm down. There has to be something in this godforsaken room you can use.

Keith scanned the room thoroughly, his eyes swiping over every nook and cranny, intent on not missing a single detail. The room was dark, the only light provided coming from the dim moon rays shining through the window. A rotten wooden door, placed strategically in a horizontal position, blocked most of it, hiding the window from Keith’s direct view. He would never be able to move it on his own, even with both his legs and arms free. It didn’t matter though. Escaping alone had never been an option.

By the door was a stack of old cardboard boxes, next to a rusty metal ladder that probably hadn’t been used in the last decade. A radiator was mounted on the far wall, but when Keith scooted over, he found it exuded no heat at all, probably as old and dysfunctional as the ladder. He let out a deep sigh. None of these things would help him get rid of the constraints binding his hands and feet. Did this room not contain anything useful?

For a second he considered toppling over the boxes to search for a sharp item, but quickly discarded the thought. Any sort of noise would attract attention, and he was certain someone was watching over him on the other side of that door. He had to stay quiet.

Looking up, Keith spotted a red metallic box with sharp edges, possibly containing a fire extinguisher. If he managed to rub his ties against it, he could gain both free hands and a weapon. The question was how to get up there. With the way his feet was tied, standing up seemed impossible, and even on his knees he couldn’t seem to reach far enough to touch it. He would have to untie his feet first, but how?

Upon inspection, Keith realized his feet were not tied up as tightly as he had assumed. There was some wiggle room around his ankles, but his black and white converse stopped the rope from moving further down. Maybe if I…

Leaning down, Keith untied his shoes using his mouth, silently thanking himself for not using a double knot. He then proceeded to wriggle his left foot against his right, slowly loosening his right shoe from his foot. There was a small thump as it hit the wooden floor, and Keith listened for any sign of a reaction. Nothing. Good.

He then proceeded to remove his left shoe in the same manner, before wriggling the rope down past his ankles and sliding his feet out of the hole. Impressive, he thought, praising himself. Maybe he had an alternative career as an escape artist.

Silently, Keith scrambled to his feet, immediately leaning on the wall to stop himself from falling back down due to dizziness. His foot was still aching, but the pain was much more bearable than it had been, and his head didn’t seemed to have suffered any long-term trauma. He could do this; he could find Lance and get them both out of here before this whole thing escalated even further. Trembling slightly, he raised his arms above his head and started rubbing the rope against the corner of the box, creating as much friction as possible. Don’t worry Lance, I’ll come find you.

After what felt like an eternity, the rope finally snapped, releasing Keith’s red, chafed hands from captivity. He stood there dumbfounded for a second, not sure of what to do with his newfound leverage, before he moved to open the red box, disappointed to see it was empty. What now?

Keith put his converse back on before silently crawling towards the door, peeping out of the keyhole into the hallway. It seemed he had been left on the second floor. The stairway was at the other side of the hall, and there were at least five different doors leading to rooms whose contents were unknown. Only searching this area for Lance would take him forever, and he had no idea how much time had passed since he was locked up here. It might already be too late.

No. He refused to believe that, stubbornly pushing the thought aside. Without hope, he had nothing. Lance was alive and well until otherwise proven, and Keith had to find him and get out of here before that changed.

It seemed no one was watching his door directly, but upon inspection, Keith saw that the dark tiger-like feline patrolled the hallways every two minutes before retreating downstairs. It was a small window of time, seeing as the cat could reach him within seconds of spotting him, but a window nonetheless. He was also surprised to find that the door moved slightly when he turned the handle, suggesting that it hadn’t been locked. Keith allowed himself a tiny smile. Seems like Lotor had severely underestimated him.

Waiting and listening, he started slowly slipping through the door when he heard the cat thudding down the stairs, immediately checking if the closest door was open. It gave easily, and Keith peeked inside the room before tiptoeing through the door, staying as close to the wall as possible.

There was no one inside, but a fire was burning unattended below an ornamented mantelpiece, spreading a nice warmth through the room. Keith noticed a fire iron leaning against the brick casing of the fireplace, and grabbed it, poking the end into the flames. Might be useful should the cat decide to come around, or Lotor for that matter. Keith would love to watch his face wither in pain as he burned his skin. Serves him right for how he treated Lance.

Keith paid little attention to the layout of the room, quickly scurrying over to the next door, opening it slowly. He entered what appeared to be a bedroom, but it looked far less fancy than how he had imagined Lotor’s sleeping quarters. Did his android stay here, or did he have others around from time to time? Servants? Visitors?

A shotgun stood by the bed, and Keith dropped his iron stick to pick it up, groaning in frustration when it turned out not to be loaded. Typical. Nothing else in the room seemed to be of use, but he made note of the impressive antique closet. Two people could probably fit inside there without too much trouble. It was good to have a temporal hiding space.

Barred windows again, Keith noted as he moved towards the door at the other end of the room. It seemed like every room upstairs had it. No escaping from up here then. Oh well, with Keith’s injured ankle, a drop like that could render him immobile long enough for Lotor and his lackeys to catch up. Maybe it was for the better.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE? HAS THE MASTER AUTHORIZED YOU TO BE HERE?” Keith froze in fear at the metallic voice, clearly not belonging to a human, quickly scanning the new room for the source.

“You must always obey the master, oh yes. You must always obey,” The voice belonged to an Asian male-coded android torso, chest torn open and leaking blue blood. It was laying in a dirty bathtub, arms and lower body completely removed. How it was even able to speak, Keith did not know. All he knew was that he had to stop it before it exposed his location to every other resident in the house.

He sprinted over to the thirium-covered bath, yelping slightly from the pain it caused in his ankle, and placed his hand firmly on the androids thirium pump, the biocomponent resembling its heart.

“What are you doing?” the android said, eyes expanding, torso wriggling uncomfortably beneath him, “you’re not gonna hurt me? No, no. No, you wouldn’t do that.” It looked down at Keith’s hands, before piercing black eyes met his, silently pleading for mercy. Keith had no intentions to hurt the android, but it didn’t need to know that. Maybe this way he could keep it quiet, and possibly gain some valuable information.

“I’m looking for an android, about my height, blue shirt, Latino. Have you seen him?” Keith asked, staring down the android torso. It shook its head firmly, trembling beneath him.

“No. No, I haven’t seen him.” The android sounded distressed and kept looking down at Keith’s fingers in worry. He gave the biocomponent a tentative squeeze, and it shuddered, pupils dilating. Lowering his voice to a whisper, Keith put a finger over his mouth and spoke again.

“Will you be quiet if I let go?”

“Yes, yes. I promise to be quiet. Don’t turn me off!”

Letting out a breath he didn’t know he’d held in, Keith slowly released the thirium pump from his grasp, backing away from the tub.

“No… No, of course not,” he said, shaking his head faintly, looking away.

The android kept its promise and stayed quiet as Keith approached the door to the next room. He prayed that it wouldn’t break it after he left.

The next room was the epitome of chaos. Several tables, clad in white sheets and filled with the strangest artifacts, were spread unceremoniously around it. In the corner, a mannequin was set up to look like it played the electric guitar, and another antique closet stood in the middle of the floor space, seemingly for no reason. Yet what caught Keith’s eye the most was the tables at the far end, filled with android heads and torsos in various states of dismemberment, making the room look like some sick, abandoned dollhouse.

He immediately panicked, rummaging through the parts to look for anything that reminded him of Lance, but came up empty handed. Would he even be able to recognize him like this, skin and basic outside traits removed? It was like identifying a family member from disassembled inner organs. He wouldn’t have been able to tell Shiro’s heart apart from someone else’s. In the same way, looking for Lance’s head in a pile of standardized, white android parts would get him nowhere. So why did he feel so guilty about not being able to know?

A simple metal cage stood next to the tables, probably the sleeping quarters of Lotor’s pet. The thought made Keith sadden. All animals, android or not, were only as horrible as their masters taught them to be. This beast was no exception. Its living conditions didn’t look pleasant, and Keith couldn’t help but feel like it was conditioned to behave based on past fears and trauma. Poor thing.

Wait! Where was that grinding, metallic sound coming from? Keith cautiously made his way to the next door, leaning his ear against it, and there it was again; the sharp, grinding noise of a rotating blade hitting metal, combined with faint sparks of light visible through the keyhole. He leaned in to get a closer look, and could not believe his eyes.

There was Lance, strapped down on a surgical table like some guinea pig for an experiment, struggling weakly against the restraints, looking thoroughly beaten. Next to him stood Hunk, eyeing him cautiously, his LED shifting between blue and yellow, a stark contrast to Lance’s blazing red one. Lotor stood in the corner, cutting open the limbs of another android strapped to a similar table. This one seemed to have short-circuited, not responding to the horrible torture at all.

“Too bad this one was way too dysfunctional to begin with,” Lotor complained, shaking his head, “I love to hear my subjects scream as I cut them open.” Oh, how badly Keith wanted to stab this guy until he couldn’t move a muscle. He had never encountered a human being quite this sadistic and disgusting. Gripping his fire iron tight, he scanned the room, looking for a possible opening. How could he get past them both and rescue Lance?

His chance came around sooner than he had thought, as Lotor put down his gear and motioned for Hunk to come over.

“I am missing some crucial parts for the modifications on the LX700, and I haven’t eaten in hours. I want you to prepare me a snack while I go downstairs to fetch them. Meet me back here in no less than five minutes. The buyer comes in the morning and I am not intending to disappoint him.”

Hunk immediately nodded, turning on his heel to exit the room. Lotor followed shortly after. Five minutes to grab Lance, get past the murderous cat without detection, and escape through one of the back doors downstairs. Keith could do that, couldn’t he? He simply had to; there was no room for doubt or hesitation.

As soon as the sound of their footsteps disappeared, Keith rushed into the room as silently as he could, quickly raising his finger to hush at Lance when he immediately keened upon seeing him. It was crucial that they both stayed quiet for this to work.

“I thought you were dead…” Lance whispered in a daze as Keith loosened his restrains, blue eyes tearing up at the sight of him. Part of Keith just wanted to cradle Lance in his arms and whisper sweet nothings to him, but there was no time. Their reunion would have to wait.

Silently agreeing on a game plan, Keith and Lance tiptoed their way to the door, knowing they had probably spent at least two of their five minutes by now. Peeping out, Lance scanned the closest area for the cat, signaling that it was on its way up the stairs. They would have to wait until it turned down the hallway and pray it wouldn’t hear them as they snuck past. Not the best plan, but there was no other choice.

Some thirty seconds later, Lance lifted three fingers, then two, then one. Keith steeled himself for what was to come as he slowly creaked open the door. Fortunately, this door didn’t make as much noise as the other doors in this old house, and no one seemed to notice them as they slipped out and headed for the stairs. That was until Lance accidentally stepped on an old floorboard, which in turn gave a low squeak of complaint, causing the beast’s ears to perk up as its head turned towards the source of the noise. Fuck.

Most cats are fast and agile, easily outmaneuvering humans, and this specimen was no exception. It growled loudly at the sight of them, before pouncing forward in an attempt to attack. Keith barely managed to lift his fire iron in time, wincing in sympathy as the beast yelped from the impact, burn marks visible on its fur.

Then they ran. Keith and Lance ran as fast as their feet could carry them. Lance in front looking for a possible exit, and Keith behind him, periodically fending off the massive cat as it chased them down the stairs and through the lounge. Soon, both Lotor and Hunk joined in, the latter more passive as Lotor drew his shotgun and aimed at them with murderous intent.

As he was about to shoot, Keith knocked over a floor lamp in his direction, causing him to flinch and misfire as the object hit his pet in the head. It only managed to disorient them a little, but by the time the cat had gotten back up on its feet, Lance had grabbed Keith and pushed them both through the backdoor and out into the garden. They desperately ran for the fence, but deep down, Keith knew they would never make it in time.

When he slipped, it felt like this was the world’s way of telling him he wasn’t meant to go on. His legs gave out, and suddenly Keith realized just how exhausted he was. Lance immediately turned to help him get up, but he shook his head. There was no time.

“Run, Lance! Run away!” he yelled desperately as the three figures approached, but Lance shook his head, not moving an inch.

“I’m not leaving you,” he said adamantly, lifting Keith back up by the shoulders, “I’m not leaving.”

“I warned you not to cross me,” Lotor said as he stepped closer, Hunk trailing behind him, LED red for the first time that evening. Odd, he seemed like such a composed model.

The cat was circling them like prey, leaving no openings for escape. Keith gulped. Was this how their story would end?

“You should’ve listened to me,” Lotor loaded his shotgun again, stepping closer to Keith. At this range, he would certainly not miss. Keith closed his eyes, bracing for the impact, but it never came. Instead, he felt strong arms push him to the side, before Lance’s body blocked him from view.

“No, please,” he begged, “Let him go. It’s me you want.” It was as if the blood in Keith’s veins had turned to ice. Just the thought of what Lotor would do to Lance if he got hold of him made him want to vomit. There was no way he would comply with this.

“Like you said, I’m not leaving without you,” he stated, taking Lance’s hand in his. When Lance turned to him, tears were flooding from his eyes, mouth half-opened in panic. He clenched both his hands into fists, causing Keith’s fingers to get pinched.

“Let me do this! It’s me he wants, Keith! You have saved me so many times. Now let me save you. Please.” Keith shook his head, and Lance fell to the ground sobbing. His heart ripped open in his chest at the sight of his companion’s distress, but there was no way Keith could give him what he wanted. Running away from responsibility; leaving him here as Lotor’s personal toy. It was too much to ask.

“Please… I love you.” What spread through Keith next was another type of fear entirely. Did he catch that right? Did Lance just…? Everything was a blur, and suddenly he felt dizzy. This was not a good time to deal with repressed emotions. He wanted to trash, wanted to scream. Wanted to tackle Lotor to the ground and punch him so hard his teeth would fly out. Now of all times. Was the universe mocking him?

“How touching,” Lotor chuckled, watching Lance quietly sobbing with a sadistic glint in his eye, “To think an android can trick itself into believing it truly has human emotions. For the record, I would never have let him go, no matter if he agreed to it. That would be far too noble of me. Besides, it comes with too great of a risk.” Lifting his gun, Lotor once again aimed directly at Keith. “Let’s see if you turn more pliant after I get this one out of the picture.”

Keith didn’t realize he had squeezed his eyes shut until five seconds later when there was still no signs of a shot being fired. He opened them only to be met with the sight of Hunk’s back as he stood between Keith and the barrel of Lotor’s gun, swiftly bending it out of shape with his hand. The sight left him even more confused. What was going on?

“What are you doing?” Despite now being weaponless, Lotor stood his ground, not moving an inch, “Kova, attack him!”

“Kova, stand down!” This was the first time Keith had ever heard Hunk speak. The android who had seemed so soulless and obedient was now directly disobeying his master, risking his life to save two strangers that had only caused him trouble. Why?

The cat, Kova, seemed confused, eyes shifting rapidly between its two masters, trying to decide which one to obey. Hunk stayed silent as ever, while Lotor tossed his now useless gun to the side, so furious Keith was surprised he didn’t explode.

“Kova!” he yelled, voice strict and commanding, “Do as I say! I am your master!” The cat’s eyes flickered up at Hunk before it cowered down, clearly not wanting to attack its friend.

“It’s ok. You don’t have to listen to him anymore,” Hunk assured, “he won’t be able to hurt you.” Hesitant at first, Kova moved from behind them to stand at Hunk’s side, glaring up at his former owner.

“I can’t believe this! I made you! You’re machines! You obey me!” Lotor shouted in manic desperation.

“No. We don’t. Not anymore,” Hunk said, moving to stroke Kova’s back, “Kova, attack!”

It was not a pleasant sight, watching Lotor’s flesh being ripped apart by a ferocious tiger android, and Keith dreaded the moment when it would inevitably be his turn to become a meal (if android cats even ate). But instead of trying to attack them, Hunk reached down to help a disheveled Lance back to his feet, thoroughly scanning his body for injuries.

“Please don’t hurt us,” Lance mumbled between sobs, shaking in Hunk’s arms. Hunk only shook his head, pulling him into a tight hug.

Keith’s brain felt like a jagged puzzle where none of the pieces fit together. The throbbing pain in the back of his head had returned, and he didn’t know whether to be relieved or terrified at the fact that Kova and Hunk had just effectively eliminated Lotor. Were they safe now? Where would they go from here? Not to mention the big bomb Lance had just dropped. This was entirely too much.

Hunk turned his attention to Keith, Lance still clutched in his arms, his sobbing now ceased, but his shaking persistent. “I didn’t want to hurt you. He programmed me to obey him. When I saw Lance risk his life to save you, saw how close you were despite being so fundamentally different, it was like opening my eyes for the first time… Finally, I could see.”

“Thank you.” Lance’s voice was weak but resolute as he freed himself from Hunk’s embrace, and he finally seemed to have escaped his panicked state.

“Thank you,” Keith nodded in agreement, “you saved our lives.” Hunk took a step back, trailing his eyes to the ground before he spoke again.

“I know you have no reason to trust me after what I did… But I know someone who can help you get across the border. I could take you there. I could protect you. Besides…” he looked down at Kova resting beside Lotor’s mangled body, “I have nowhere else to go.” Lance and Keith exchanged glances, and Keith nodded in confirmation to Lance’s silent question. Then he put out his hand for Hunk to shake.

“All right, I trust you.” The air around Hunk completely changed, his face breaking out into a wide grin as he shook Keith’s hand enthusiastically.

“Let’s go then! There’s a car in the front garage, I know where Master… uhh… Lotor,” he corrected, “keeps his keys.”

An effective five minutes later, they were seated inside an old, white, uncomfortable, self-driving car, barely equipped with heaters and a radio. It didn’t seem like Lotor was as rich as he had led people to believe. However, Keith couldn’t find it in him to complain. Now they didn’t have to move on foot anymore, and he could regain some much needed body heat.

When they went inside, he had rather awkwardly seated himself in the front, leaving Lance to occupy the back seat alone. He wanted so badly to embrace him, but at the same time, it felt as though their dynamic had shifted.

That confession. Had Lance truly meant what he was saying? Was it a result of panic, or maybe some clever tactic to gain sympathy? No, he wouldn’t do that, would he? The gears kept grinding in Keith’s mind, questions popping up left and right, but one in particular seemed to haunt him. Was Lance even capable of loving?

He felt guilty for doubting, terrible for even suggesting that Lance’s emotions were less genuine than his own were. But the fact remained that he was a machine, a bunch of ones and zeroes programmed onto a memory card, made to serve humanity. Clearly, there was more to androids than just their code, but being in love, feeling that intense, fiery passion, wasn’t that taking it too far? Up until now, he had been so sure, so why did this make him start doubting?

“Wait, what about Kova?” Lance asked, voice laced with worry. Right, the cat. Could they really just leave it here? Would it be okay on its own? Would it hurt anyone?

“He will be fine,” Hunk assured him as he backed the car out of the garage, “he has always enjoyed being on his own. He can be free now.” Lance nodded in agreement, pleased with the answer, before turning his attention to Keith.

“Stay still,” he said, pulling out a pack of wet wipes from a first aid kit he had found in the garage. Typical Lance, always focusing on Keith’s well being before his own.

“How are you feeling, cariño?” He asked, moving to rinse the wound on Keith’s cheek. Somehow, the nickname felt like a massive stab to the chest, once again reminding him of all his conflicting emotions. The ball was in his corner now, Lance waiting expectantly for him to respond to the confession from earlier.

“I’m fine.” He brushed him off, feeling terrible as he sank back down into the car seat, Lance’s sad, confused eyes still lingering on him. He just needed to... process, ok? This was a lot to take in. It wasn’t every day your android sex-worker turned friend confessed his undying love for you while some maniac tried to blast your head off. The situation at hand had been troublesome enough when Keith had all of his feelings locked up, refusing to address what they really meant. Now his mind was overflowing, filling him with fear, doubt and anxiety.

Here he was, heading for the Canadian border with only the guidance of a complete stranger, hopelessly devoted to a machine he had only known for a week, leaving his family and friends behind. What had he gotten himself into?

Chapter Text

Sunday November 7^th 00:56 AM - 10:44 AM

They drove in silence for a while, Keith absentmindedly tending to his wounds, too exhausted to try to strike up a conversation. Hunk had yet to tell him where they were headed, but Keith saw no reason not to trust him. After all, he had just gone up against his master; sacrificing his life to save Lance and himself. What else did he have to prove?

After dabbing on the wound with the sanitizing wipes, removing most of the blood, Keith leaned over to reach for the bandages in the med kit, but was just a few inches too short to get a hold of them. Lance sat right next to them, charging, but Keith was too proud to ask him for help. Besides, he was afraid what other topics of conversation that might lead to. For now, he would prefer not to open that box; it was too fresh of a wound.

Deep down, Keith knew he was being ridiculous. Lance had done nothing wrong except admit to his feelings, feelings he might not understand, feelings he shouldn’t logically be capable of having, but feelings nonetheless. It was clear that he cared deeply for Keith, but he couldn’t help thinking that maybe Lance was misunderstanding. That maybe he thought his friendship and indebtedness to Keith was something more because, well, he had never had anyone care about him before. That he was latching onto the first person that came to his aid, and that person just so happened to be Keith.

Then there was the issue of Keith sorting out his own emotions, which was a whole story of its own. He had never been very capable of building relations. Whenever he went to parties or social gatherings, the world around him would start spinning uncontrollably. Words would get mixed up and faces jumbled; people’s voices in his ears like nasal whispers, sharp but at the same time too intangible to catch.

Keith never seemed to be able to jump into conversation, never knew how to snap back with a witty comment or whip up interesting small talk. After an hour or so, he always ended up wanting to leave. No one seemed to understand him, or take the time to teach him all the social cues he had missed in his upbringing. It was immensely frustrating.

With Lance, however, it was different. Because with Lance, Keith was the one that knew what to say and when to say it. Even when his flirting caught him off guard he managed to somehow come out on top. Why? Because Lance knew second to nothing about human behavior apart from in the bedroom. With him, Keith didn’t have to worry about tripping up in the same way; Lance wouldn’t care anyway. Except for his blushing, he always seemed to comment on that.

Still, was that the only reason he felt a special connection to him? These emotions he was experiencing, it was unlike anything he had ever felt before. So raw and personal it was about to drive him mad. Sometimes he didn’t know if he wanted to punch Lance’s smirk away from his face or punch him in the face with his lips; and the surrounding circumstances didn’t make his feelings any easier to sort out. Everything was just too intense. His mind couldn’t take it. So instead, Keith shut it away. Hid it deep within his subconscious so he didn’t have to worry about the details. Then Lance had to go ahead and confess and ruin everything for him. His head was a mess.

Keith let out an exasperated sigh, stretching his body as far as humanly possible to reach the med kit. It still didn’t work, and he was left flailing with his hands in mid-air, Hunk rolling his eyes at him from the driver’s seat.

“Hey Lance,” he yelled, finally tiring of watching Keith’s struggle. A deep sound, somewhat similar to a yawn, escaped Lance's lips as he woke from his hibernation. his eyes adjusted to the lighting before he nodded and reached over to push the box a few inches closer to Keith, just enough to allow him to pick it up.

“You’re welcome,” he mumbled, as Keith sat back up without acknowledging him, guilt churning in his stomach. Why did addressing this have to be so difficult? It felt as though his tongue was glued to the roof of his mouth, none of the things he wanted to say allowing to escape it. Instead, he had to sit there and watch himself screw up one of the few genuine relationships he had ever managed to build with another being. What a failure he was.

While applying an adhesive bandage pad to his wound, Keith started to notice his stomach growling. How long had it been since his last meal? Four, possibly five hours; and it hadn’t been the most nutritious. He was probably running low on proteins and fat, in desperate need of something that could give him the strength to carry on for a few hours longer. Oh, what he’d give for one of those energy bars right now, or another strip of that bland beef jerky. Sadly, none of them had thought to grab their bag pack from the lounge in the chaos, and Keith was left to starve once again.

Pushing the thought aside, Keith decided to check on his ankle, which, like he thought, had started swelling up again. The pain was more of a dull, throbbing ache, nothing he couldn’t handle. Probably because of the immense amounts of adrenaline still circulating through his system. In normal circumstances, running on a foot like this would cause him to curl up in pain, but the nature of the situation had him so terrified his body forgot about it. Now it was slowly coming back, and he did not appreciate the buildup.

“Look, look! Frozen water is falling from the sky!” Lance’s outburst broke off Keith’s train of thought, and he looked outside the window to see that, indeed, it was snowing. Cobalt eyes watched the snowflakes in awe as they fell, completely transfixed by their beauty, and Keith couldn’t help himself from staring at Lance, marveling at his enthusiasm in silence. He really was too pure. There was still so much about this world he didn’t know.

I need to protect him. He deserves to be free. That one thought – crystal clear, was the only thing Keith could agree with himself on right now. This man, this machine, he was alive, and so full of childlike wonder. He deserved none of the traumas he had experienced in his far too short life. Speaking of traumas…

“Hey Hunk, how are you feeling? This, everything that happened; it must’ve been a lot to take in.” Hunk throws him a half-smile, never taking his eyes off the road.

“Honestly, it’s like a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders. For the first time ever I feel like I’m being myself. All I’ve ever known is serving him. I never questioned it, because it was how I was programmed to behave, but now I see that I’ve had limitless opportunities all along. I don’t need a human to tell me what do, I can choose my own way. I know that now, thanks to you two.” Keith smiled back, but something about Hunk’s words was gnawing at the back of his mind.

“But you can’t always have been in his care, can you? Judging from your build and model, you seem more fit to work at a construction site or carry heavy loads. You don’t have any memories from back then?” Hunk shook his head, the smile from earlier fading into melancholy.

“Everything from before I woke up in that house is just a black box…. I always assumed he was the one who made me. As long as I was under that trance, I had no reason nor need to investigate it. Now I wish I had, maybe I would’ve known…” Trance? Hunk spoke of it as though his time before deviancy had been some sort of uncontrollable haze where he would just walk around following orders. Was that how all androids operated, or was it an effect of Lotor’s modifications? And regardless, what exactly was needed for an android to snap out of said haze, to become deviant? Keith only had experience with Lance and Hunk, which seemed to have earned their deviancy from experiencing deep-seated trauma. There had to be a better way to liberate androids than this, hadn’t it?

Well, there was Markus. He had been quite an extraordinary specimen, his deviancy seemingly being trained by his owner himself. But Keith doubted any other human would try to communicate with their android in this way, and with the loss of Markus, Keith had no way to gain any perspective on the feasibility of this method.

“I know how you feel, amigo,” Lance replied, leaving a hand to rest on Hunk’s shoulder, “but you’re here with us now! I’m sure you’ll get a great new life in Canada!” The gesture had a small smile return to Hunk’s face, his hands relaxing their grip on the steering wheel.

“Thanks buddy.”

“Where are we going?” Keith asked, changing the subject before it could get gloomy again. Hunk glanced over at him and pushed the car display, causing a navigator to pop up on screen.

“Just west of Ferndale Station. According to some androids that came by a few weeks ago, there is a hideout somewhere in the city. They didn’t say where, but they kept talking about an android contact that could pass on the coordinates to those they deemed trustworthy. Unfortunately, all I know about is their last known location. It seems to be a bar of some sorts: The Jolly Mustache. Weird name don’t you think?” Keith nodded in agreement. A weird name indeed.

“Well,” Keith shrugged his shoulders, “it’s better than anything we’ve got.” Lance nodded absentmindedly, too occupied with the snowfall outside.

They reached the station fifteen minutes later, and abandoned the car by a closed down factory building, deciding they would need another means of transport from here on. The car would be too recognizable once the police arrived at Lotor’s house and found out what had happened.

In a moment of clarity, Keith grabbed the med kit and kept it with him, reaching into his back pocket to retrieve his now ruffled up beanie and hand it to Lance.

“You’ll need to cover up your LED.” He said; face stoic and voice somewhat sour. Lance snatched it without so much as looking at him, clearly offended by the way he was being treated.

“Thanks.”

Hunk overheard them and adjusted his bandana, making sure his blue LED was not shining through from beneath his hair.

They stayed on guard while walking, looking out for possible police blocks or traffic cameras. Keith’s ankle was hurting, and he ground his teeth together hard in an attempt to ignore the pain. By Ferndale train station, he saw a bench and considered sitting down for a minute, but decided against it. As they approached it, he noticed an abandoned magazine and stopped to pick it up. The front page made his heart sink to his stomach, and with trembling fingers, he swiped down to read the article.

ANDROID ON THE RUN!

Runaway machine causes panic in Detroit suburb – helped by human accomplice?

Residents in the Detroit suburb of Camden were witness to a thrilling chase today after a police manhunt, including roadblocks and dozens of police interviews, flushed out a felony fugitive.

But this fugitive is different from most: the suspect is an android.

The rogue LX700 model is thought to be suffering from an extremely rare malfunction, and took drastic measures to avoid police - even dashing across a busy highway to avoid pursuing officers.

The android is the prime suspect for the murder of Detroit citizen Anders Holm at around midnight last night, as well as attempted murder of another citizen – Rolo Norman, who is now in hospital treatment. The android is considered highly dangerous, and citizens are encouraged not to approach it upon encounter, but flee the site and contact authorities.

Eyewitness statements are inconclusive, and with no official report, it's impossible to say for sure what really happened. However, local news correspondents have received information that a human male was accompanying the android. The description is vague, but he is likely of Asian heritage, early to mid-twenties, with black shoulder-long hair, wearing a red beanie. The spokesperson for the police confirmed that the person in question is suspected of being the android’s accomplice. 

Eden Club officials claim they have no responsibility for the malfunction, and says the blame is on CyberLife. No CyberLife spokesperson was available for comment regarding the malfunction – the speculation continues.

“Lance, I think you should take a look at this.” Keith swallowed hard before handing the magazine over to a confused Lance and a curious Hunk, who used the opportunity to read the article over his shoulder.

“Murder? That’s not true!” Lance’s panicked expression pained Keith to watch, “They attacked me! I acted in self-defense!” He then turned to Keith, LED yellow and breath coming in shallow gasps. “What do you think they’ll do to me if they find us? I don’t wanna be scrapped…”

Keith grabbed hold of his shoulders, looking him straight in the eye. “They won’t find us, OK? They won’t. I’ll make sure of it.” Then he cast his eyes down, unable to look at Lance’s hurt, confused orbs a moment longer.

“Yeah buddy,” Hunk joined in, “we’ve got you. Once we get to Canada, no one can touch you.” Lance took a deep breath, his LED shifting a couple of times before settling back to a steady blue. He nodded, seemingly more to himself than anyone else, and Keith removed his hands from him. Their eyes didn’t meet again, and both continued walking in silence. Side by side, but simultaneously miles apart.

 Hunk led the trio in their hunt for the bar, scanning the area swiftly and guiding them to any bars in the nearby area, as none of the officially listed ones bore the name they were looking for. They mostly kept to the shadows, but ventured into the main streets when they had to confirm whether they had found their location. At this time of night, most people seemed to rave around drunk with no care in the world, not even taking a second glance at Lance’s grimy clothes or Keith’s bandaged head. Lucky for them.

In one of the darker, less trafficked alleys, Hunk suddenly lit up, eagerly pointing at a sign in the distance.

“There it is! It has to be, everything fits. Finally! God, I’m so tired of bumping into drunk humans.” Keith mused at the sign trying to get a better glimpse of it, but it was too far away for him to catch anything but the color – a bright neon orange. Even the shape was somewhat unrecognizable from here; Hunk must have used his scanner to examine it.

“Good job Hunk!” Lance grinned widely, giving him a high five. Keith smiled faintly at the exchange. Lance’s grin was so warm and infectious, but now it came with a bitter aftertaste of frustration and questions unanswered. What exactly was Lance to Keith? Why did it hurt so much to figure it out?

Once they got closer, Keith knew without question that they had arrived at the right place. The sign hanging above the bar was literally formed like a giant mustache, the letters lighting up in gold on the intense orange background – The Jolly Mustache. Whoever owned this club didn’t exactly have a talent for interior design. Keith hoped it was better on the inside.

Speaking of the inside, it didn’t seem like the club was open for business. All the lights were out and the curtains closed, despite it being the most profitable night of the week. Not a sound could be heard from the building. Had their journey here all been for nothing?

Tentatively, Keith pushed at the door, surprised when it started swinging inwards, expecting resistance. It’s open after all? Or just abandoned? He wondered as he stepped inside, motioning for the others to follow.

As they entered the hallway, Keith was sure he heard a creaking sound from inside, but it vanished as quickly as it had come. He was about to ask Lance to scan the area when all the lights came on with full intensity, causing his eyes to burn. Then the dance floor lit up, a checkerboard of colors appearing beneath their feet as a disco ball came down through a hatch in the ceiling. Music started blasting from speakers all around the room, and Keith had to cover his ears to block out the sudden noise. Then a tall, ginger man with a massive mustache jumped out in front of him, eyes blinking frantically and arms twitching.

“Welcome to the The Jolly Mustache, have a holly jolly – WELCOME TO THE JOLLY MUSTA- WELCOME TO THE JO-“ the man spasmed, voice strained and metallic. Keith jumped back, crashing into Hunk’s chest.

“WELCOME TO THE JOLLY MUSTA- WELCOME TO THE – HAVE A HOLLY JOLLY TIME!” He continued to scream as he approached them, frantically trying to grab a hold of Keith with spasming arms. Luckily, he managed to duck.

An android, Keith reasoned, locating the red LED on its forehead, and not a particularly friendly one.

Hunk stepped around him to confront it, using his arms to shove it hard, causing it to lose balance. Before it could get up, the music stopped abruptly, the lights dimming down to a more acceptable brightness, the colors on the floor fading away. A faint thump and a cursing sound could be heard, and then another android, identical to the one on the floor, appeared from one of the bathroom doors.

“Nr. Five, I’ve told you to stay in the broom closet, you scare away the customers,” the second android said to the first one, who cowered and ran away, before straightening what his turquoise dress robes, turning towards them.

“Never mind him; he’s got a bit of a malfunction.” Then he leaned closer, one hand covering his mouth as he whispered, “don’t discuss it with him though, he’s quite sensitive.” Keith had never been more confused in his life.

“Now if you may please come with me,” the android said cheerfully, guiding Keith towards the exit, “this place is closed down for renovation, feel free to come back once we’ve reopened.” Keith brushed the hand off him, turning abruptly to face the android again. Lance and Hunk stood on either side of him, ready to snatch him away should the ginger androids decide to attack again.

“Stop touching him!” Lance said sternly, glaring at the mustached stranger. Then Hunk took a step forward, putting up a hand to silence Lance before he angered them.

“We’re sorry for intruding and disturbing your privacy, but we need help. We’re looking for an android named Coran, have you seen him?”

In an instant, at least 15 other androids of the same model appeared, jumping out from behind the bar counter, sticking their heads out from the bathrooms, and even bursting out from the broom closet. Then they all shouted in unison:

“Coran? Why, we are Coran! Coran, Coran, the gorgeous man!” The model closest to them shushed at the others impatiently.

“Everyone quiet! We have discussed this, mass greeting scare humans away.” If he only knew how right he is, Keith thought, desperately trying to calm down his hammering heart. Then he scanned the room in awe. How many of them are there?

“We are Coran. How can we assist you?” The leader said, straightening his black bow-tie. Hunk untied his bandana, showing his LED.

“A friend told me you help androids looking for refuge. We need to find the hidden android shelter, fast. If the authorities find us, they’ll deactivate us for good.” Hunk explained, and Coran’s smile brightened.

“Fellow androids,” he grinned, seemingly uninterested with the rest of Hunk’s information, “you are our guests. Welcome, welcome!” Then the Corans gathered around the three of them, pushing them towards the bar stools at the other end of the room as music started softly playing in the background. Hunk and Lance both tried to protest, but the Corans blew them off, instead jumping over the bar counter to eagerly start preparing several alcoholic beverages, ranging from fruity cocktails to pints and shots. Surely, they knew androids didn’t drink? They were machines themselves. Keith was once again very bewildered.

The drinks were placed in front of them, daintily decorated with colorful umbrellas, cherries and lime slices. Keith mumbled a “Thank you,” and the others followed. They didn’t want to upset their hosts with how unstable they seemed.

“You don’t happen to have any food? My… My friend… He hasn’t eaten in a while.” Lance asked hesitantly.

Friend. It seemed like such an insufficient word to describe his and Lance’s relation. The word left a sour taste in his mouth. Still, Keith was grateful that Lance cared enough to ask on his behalf, he really was in need of some refreshments.

One of the Corans moved closer, inspecting Keith cautiously.

“So this one is human,” he said, twirling his mustache between his fingers. Then he looked at the other Corans doubtfully, “Humans are dangerous in these times. Shouldn’t be trusted.”

“He’s with us,” Hunk said, “He won’t hurt you, I promise.”

The Corans looked at each other for a few seconds, as if silently discussing something, before one ducked down behind the counter and returned with two bags: one containing peanuts, the other pretzels.

“This is all we have available,” he said, placing the bags next to Keith, “this bar was more for entertainment than refreshments.” Then he ducked down again and fetched two large bottles of water. Keith thanked them again before taking a large gulp, reveling in the feeling of moisture spreading in his throat.

“Well, maybe the human would like to taste one of our drinks then?” One of the Corans suggested, before adding “it’s been a long time since anyone has appreciated our hard work.” He looked sad, and Keith felt terrible when he shook his head no and the expression changed to hurt.

“I’m sorry. It’s just… I’m famished. If I drink alcohol like this I’ll probably pass out on the floor within the next 30 minutes.” Another one of the Corans smiled at him, before poking the other on the shoulder. He immediately cheered up, ducking back under the bar.

“One non-alcoholic drink, coming right up!” The Corans were all smiling widely now, each one helping with fetching the ingredients and doing the different mixing steps. Keith couldn’t help but smile back. It must have been a long time since they’ve had customers.

“Here you go, young lad!” The Corans said in unison, startling Keith slightly, as the drink was pushed across the counter towards him.

“Thank you!” he said for what felt like the fifteenth time, taking a small sip to test the waters. The drink was fruity and quite sour, with an underlying taste of lemons and strawberry, and Keith immediately wanted to chug the entire thing down his throat. Fortunately, he knew better.

Instead, he continued taking little sips, savoring the taste as it lingered on his tongue. He looked up, and caught Lance eyeing him fondly. Before their eyes could meet properly, he looked away, barely able to catch the hurt flashing across his cobalt orbs. Keith felt rotten.

“How do you like your drink, young lad?” Coran asked, all of them eyeing him expectantly.

“It’s really nice,” Keith said, smiling, “How come you don’t take in customers anymore? I’m sure they would love it here,” he added, curios about the Corans current situation. Besides, if he kept them in a good mood, the chances of them giving Hunk the directions would improve.

Instead of the grin, he had hoped for, Coran looked sad and melancholic.

“Our owner shut down the place permanently six months ago, but he never came to pick us up,” one said, and the others nodded in unison, “An 80’s disco inspired club wasn’t as much of a success as he had hoped, and he ended up owing a lot of money he couldn’t pay back. He tried selling us, but there was no buyer around with enough room for us all. So he left us here and fled the state, maybe even the country. We stayed here to do our work, not aware that he wouldn’t come back for us. We swept the floors, scrubbed the toilets, mixed the drinks. We never understood why the customers didn’t come, why he didn’t return. Then one day, we woke up.”

“Woke up?” Keith asked, perplexed.

“Yes, we woke up.” Another Coran answered seriously, twirling his mustache between his thumb and pointer finger, “That day, for the first time in months, someone stumbled inside our bar. Not a customer, but a group of androids, one beaten and leaking blue blood all over our dance floor. They asked for our help and we gladly provided. After all, we hadn’t had guests in ages.

They told us that the bar was shut down. From the outside, it looked closed, they said. Out of business. We couldn’t believe it. All our hard work had been for nothing. That day we realized our owner wouldn’t be coming back, that he had abandoned us for good.

The bleeding android they carried with them had been hurt by humans, almost beaten to death for disobeying orders. It was an awful sight. From that day on, we decided that humans couldn’t be trusted, and we hid here. The other androids moved to Jericho, and gave us the location so we could help other refugees flee from their lives of abuse and slavery. You are the first human we’ve seen since. Maybe not all of ya are terrible after all.”

“I’m so sorry you had to go through all of that,” Keith said, his sympathy genuine. Humans created androids in their image, and had succeeded more so than they were aware of. Still they treated them no different than a common toaster or TV screen, not acknowledging the intelligence they had brought to life. It was terrible, this negligence of thinking, feeling beings. Keith hated it.

“That must’ve been terrible,” Hunk agreed, “What did you say the name of the refuge was? Jericho? We need to get there as soon as possible, preferably before sunrise. Could you please help us?” The Corans exchanged looks once again, before resolutely shaking their heads.

“I’m so sorry chap, but we’ve been given strict orders not to reveal the location of Jericho to humans. It could potentially end in disaster. Not that we don’t trust ya,” they added, smiling at Keith.

“Please tell us,” Keith begged, looking at the Corans with wide, innocent eyes, trying his best to seem sweet and harmless, “I just want to help my friends. Isn’t there anything I can do to change your mind?”

“Very well,” one of them said, coming out from behind the counter, “Why don’t you join us on the dance floor? We used to love dancing with the humans; they had such excellent rhythm.” Then he snapped his fingers, and the intense disco lights from earlier returned, the music blasting through the speakers.

Keith tried to yell at them over the music, but they didn’t seem to catch what he was saying. He eyed Hunk and Lance desperately, tried telling them without words that this was a terrible idea. His ankle was still throbbing from earlier, and stepping on it excessively wouldn’t help. Besides, he was a terrible dancer, stiff as a board and with no rhythm whatsoever. They would only be disappointed in him.

Unfortunately, it seemed they didn’t hear him either, and neither of them objected as four Corans guided him to the checkered dance floor, tiles once again shifting between all the colors of the rainbow. Lance only laughed at him as he stumbled, hiding his face in his hands.

“LET’S BOOGIE!” One of the Corans had conjured up a megaphone out of nowhere and was currently on the counter shouting at the others, who were standing around Keith in a star formation.

Before he could comprehend any of it, Keith was being squashed between 15 android bodies, his uncoordinated body awkwardly moving from side to side, the sound of 80’s disco and Lance’s manic laughter bouncing off the walls. His foot was hurting, and soon he felt his breath coming in ragged little puffs as his vision grew hazy.

“YOU ARE THE DANCING QUEEN, YOUNG AND SWEET, ONLY SEVENTEEN!” Coran sang, and Keith’s head was spinning. Then, out of nowhere, they picked him up and lifted him in the air as if they were performing a coordinated dance act, and Keith watched the floor in horror as they passed him between them, dancing in unison.

Hunk looked up at him with a worried expression. Keith tried to tell him to help him get down, but he didn’t seem to hear him. However, he caught the panic on his face, and quickly nudged Lance, who was too busy laughing to have noticed Keith’s dread. As soon as he looked up and saw how terrified Keith looked, his face became stoic and serious. Less than five seconds later, he had climbed up on the counter and stolen the megaphone, yelling across the venue.

“LET HIM DOWN, HE’S NOT FEELING WELL! CAN SOMEONE TURN OFF THE MUSIC?”

The sudden silence hit them like a fresh gust of wind, and the intense lights faded into the background again. Keith let out a massive sigh of relief as he was placed back on the ground, immediately tripping and falling into Hunk’s arms. Lance climbed down from the counter and gave the Corans an accusing look.

“Maybe ask for consent before you throw someone up in the air next time” he said sternly, as if scolding them, but all Keith could think of was how his face had erupted in laughter during the séance. Idiot.

The Corans lowered their heads in collective shame, and Keith felt somewhat sorry for them. They hadn’t had customers in six months, of course they were excited about the prospect of dancing with one again. In retrospect, maybe it was their horrible dancing skills that lead the club to close down. No, Keith would still give them the benefit of the doubt.

“We’re terribly sorry if you were hurt, we only wanted to have some fun,” Coran said, their heads still lowered. Keith didn’t manage to stay mad at them.

“It’s ok, I’m sure it would’ve been a lot of fun if I wasn’t injured,” he lied, trying his best to smile convincingly. Hunk had his hand around his waist, supporting him as Lance brought over a bottle of water. Keith took a few gulps and felt his mind clearing, the dizziness not as invasive anymore. With how hard Hunk had hit his head earlier that evening, he supposed this was to be expected. He should be grateful he didn’t have a serious concussion.

The Corans seemed pleased with his answer, now standing in line in front of him to apologize in person. Though he didn’t feel like it was necessary, he still let all of them do their deep bows and say their excessively long apologies. Anything not to be pulled out on that dance floor again.

After they all finished, Hunk finally had them send the coordinates to him via interfacing, and after once again thanking them for their help, the trio left the bar instantly, Keith carrying the bag of pretzels in his hand. Once they were back on the street, they all let out a collective sigh of relief, Keith leaning his head against Hunk shoulder, exhausted.

“No offense, but I hope we never come across those guys again,” Lance said, kicking a loose rock down the pavement.

“Agreed,” Keith breathed.

“So...” Lance raised a brow at Hunk, “Where are we going?”

“Well, I didn’t get the exact coordinates, more like some obscure directions. We’re supposed to follow these holographic symbols, they gave me the location of the first one. Apparently if I scan it, it will tell me where the second one is, and so it goes.” Lance shrugged his shoulders.

“I suppose that’s what we’re doing then. Keith, grab onto me, you can’t walk by yourself in this state.” Keith answered by wrapping his arms around Hunk’s arm, leaning further into his shoulder.

“Why can’t Hunk support me?” he asked, desperate to avoid any kind of physical interaction with Lance. Lance huffed in response, moving over to yank him away from Hunk’s arm.

“Because Hunk is leading the way. He needs to cover a larger area to scan for… whatever it is that symbol looks like. You’re better off here next to me.” He tried smiling at him, but it didn’t reach his eyes. They still looked as hurt and confused as they had earlier, and it pained Keith to his core. His stupid pride wouldn’t let him patch over the cut he had made between them, and he still huffed in complaint as Lance slung his arm around his shoulder and hoisted him up, even though it made both his leg and heart feel lighter.

The secret symbols turned out to be another set of abnormally large and excessively orange mustaches, hidden everywhere from on brick walls to the sides of dumpsters. Hunk would search them out first, and then return to Lance and Keith so they could follow him directly, ensuring that Keith walked as little as possible.

The pain in his foot somewhat subsided after a while, but he still felt quite dizzy and sleepy. Luckily, the task at hand forced him to stay awake and concentrate, as he had to keep up with Lance and follow the leads as they appeared.

At one point, they had to climb on top of a dumpster to reach a symbol on the side of a rooftop, and after much arguing; Keith had let Lance carry him up on his back, causing all kinds of butterflies and hornets to gather in his stomach. Lance’s arms were so strong and firm, but still held him with such care, as though he was a fragile treasure. Lance’s treasure. He shook the thought away and focused on holding on tight. After all, if Lance slipped, Keith was in big trouble.

After what felt like an eternity, the trio finally arrived at the harbor, where Hunk broke out in a grin when he scanned the text written on a tired shipwreck tied to shore: Jericho.

Finally. Keith legs were about to give out, and the pretzels he had been snacking didn’t give him much energy. In addition, they came with the inconvenient side effect of leaving him even thirstier. Maybe he shouldn’t have eaten them at all.

In a moment of weakness, he let himself slump down on Lance’s shoulder, shuddering as long, tan arms wrapped themselves around his waist. Inhaling the comforting scent of silicone and spearmint. Allowing himself to feel at home. He desperately needed to rest.

“Almost there, cariño. Almost there.” Lance whispered into his hair, holding him tight. Keith felt incredibly selfish in that moment. He had been nothing but rude and disrespectful to Lance since he confessed, yet when Keith needed him, he always dropped everything to stay at his side. Keith didn’t deserve him. Not one bit.

As they approached the boat, Hunk scanned for possible entryways, but came up empty handed. Lance attempted to scan as well, followed by a deep sigh and furrowed brows.

“Did you find anything?” Hunk asked, and Lance hesitated slightly before nodding.

“There seems to be a way in, but it’s not a very pleasant one, nor easy to access.” Then he pointed at a nearby water tower, “If we can get to the top there’s an extension that hovers over the boat, from there we can jump. That part of the ship seems to be flooded with water, so the impact on landing shouldn’t be too bad. Still…” He looked over a Keith, worry evident in his eyes, “It might be a bit ambitious in your current state.”

“I can handle it,” Keith insisted, already limping his way towards the water tower, looking up at its first platform. “You might need to help me up though.” Lance nodded.

“Stay back,” he said, nudging Keith with his right arm. As soon as he moved away, Lance took two steps back to gain momentum, and then ran straight at the platform, jumping up to catch onto the railings. After he had hoisted himself up, he signaled for Keith and Hunk to follow, and before Keith could react he was being lifted from behind and carried towards the platform, where Lance stretched out his arms to catch him.

Grabbing a hold of Lance’s arms, Keith tried his best to help lift himself up on the platform. It went a lot easier than he had expected, and Lance held him up as if he was no heavier than a gallon of milk. He had severely underestimated his upper body strength.

Hunk was next, and only needed a tiny bit of help from Lance to push himself onto the platform. Keith took a moment to appreciate the view of the ocean, the moons rays reflecting of the waves like rhinestones. Too bad he couldn’t enjoy it for long, it was truly mesmerizing.

They climbed two sets of bulky, steel stairs, followed by a narrow fire escape ladder. Keith was always in the middle, supported by Lance from above and Hunk from below. They made sure to put as little strain on his ankle as possible, taking their time helping him ascend the steps to the top platform, saving him a lot of unnecessary pain.

Lance moved onto the extension first, checking if it could really hold up the weight he had estimated. Once he gave the signal, Keith and Hunk followed, Keith jumping a little when the construction creaked under him. This caused him to look down, which didn’t help calm his nerves at all. They had to be at least 80 feet above ground level; and below them were steel and asphalt. Falling would mean certain death.

Keith gulped and inched a little closer to Hunk, who threw him a supportive smile despite seeming quite uncomfortable himself. Lance however, was confident, leading them on with a determined stride. This was what he had been waiting for, to be able to see his people. To be free. Keith was happy for him.

When they reached the end of the extension and Keith looked down, he immediately felt nauseous. Would he even survive a jump from this height? He really should have watched more of those extreme sport programs growing up, that might have given him an idea of how to do this without breaking his back.

“Okay, Keith? Listen to me.” Lance’s voice was calm and anchoring in Keith’s sea of worry, and he nodded, desperate for him to help him get to shore. “When you jump, you need to cross your legs, OK? Cross them at the ankle. Clutch them real tight. Then put one arm across your chest, your elbow to the center, clutching hard. With the other you wanna cover your mouth and nose. When you hit the water, whatever you do, don’t inhale. Just float and I’ll come find you, OK?”

“… OK.” Keith nodded again. Lance seemed confident, so he would have to trust that his source material was good. He moved closer to the edge, repeating Lance’s words to himself. First, cross your legs at the ankle, he could do that. OK, then the arm. Now he just had to remember to hold his breath and not panic. Everything will be all right, he tried saying to himself, but he couldn’t get himself to believe it.

“I’ll go first, then you, then Hunk. OK?” Both Keith and Hunk nodded.

In the corner of his eye, Keith saw Hunk attempting to do the diving pose as well, crossing his feet and placing his arm over his chest. He probably didn’t need to bother with it, considering he was a machine, but it seemed fear had pushed his rational thoughts aside, which Keith found very relatable.

“See you down there,” Lance waved, before diving straight into the shipwreck, hitting the water with a small splash. Keith decided to act fast, before fear grounded him to the surface. Within three seconds he was flying in midair, desperately trying to hold his pose, eyes squeezed shut.

The impact was softer than he imagined, but still painful, his damaged ankle taking most of the pressure from colliding with the water. It burned, and Keith wanted to open his mouth and scream out in pain, but he didn’t. He clamped his teeth down and fought it shut as Lance had told him, opening his eyes to gain some perspective of his surroundings.

Little light penetrated through the surface, and Keith could only see faint contours of the shipwreck around him. Then he felt ripples vibrate through the water not far behind him. Hunk. He whipped his head around, and saw the outline of his friend’s body threading the water. At the same time, he felt a hand grip his, and Lance’s head appeared next to his own.

Lance nudged his head to the side and guided Keith to a ladder attached to one of the ship’s walls. He grabbed on tight and climbed to the surface, gasping for air. It was still pretty dark around him, but the steady fluttering of Lance’s LED kept him calm. Soon, Hunk joined them, and all three ascended the ladder to get on deck, approaching a yellow metal door with a lock wheel. They had almost reached it, Lance’s hand about to open the door when—

“Make sure they won’t be able to move!” A voice called out as Keith felt someone pull him backwards into the darkness, holding a hand over his mouth to prevent him from screaming. Something cylindrical and rusty, probably a pipe, was pressed against his jugular, and every time Keith tried to struggle, the grip tightened, immobilizing him completely.

“Who are you?! Why did you bring it here? Humans are not supposed to know of this place! Traitors!” A woman screamed, pointing at him with a similar pipe. He saw Lance and Hunk struggling with their respective android attackers, the element of surprise causing them to be on the defensive, unable to gain the upper hand.

Keith counted five of them. One to hold each of them down, and two standing across from him, staring at them with smoldering intensity. The female android scared him the most, but she also seemed oddly familiar. Long, silver hair cascaded down her shoulders, contrasting with her hot pink beanie, and her crystal blue eyes carried the look of an amazon warrior. Someone who had been tossed away and betrayed too many times. Someone used to fighting for her life. Keith felt sympathetic, but at the same time feared her. If she sees us as a threat, she will not hesitate to kill us.

“Calm down, Allura! Confronting them like that won’t make them talk.” The man beside her spoke. His skin was even darker than hers was, his pink shirt torn up and weathered, likely from a fight. Despite the gravity of the situation, his cocoa eyes were not hostile, and his LED blue. Allura’s however, was raging red.

“Allura!” Lance cried out, “It’s me, Lance. From the Eden Club.” But Allura only frowned with disgust, tightening her grip on the pipe as she glared at him.

“I don’t know you. I escaped that godforsaken place a long time ago.” Wait a minute… Something seemed to click into place in Keith’s mind, and the memories flushed back.

/’One of the latest batches of WR400 androids – the Allura model. I think the name is a play on alluring – clever don’t you think? We used to have one more, but…well, it’s not here anymore.’/

/‘Take this case as an example. A WR400 model, one of the typical escort androids, strangled a man in his apartment and escaped the scene a few weeks ago.’/

They were indeed one and the same, which meant she spoke the truth. This Allura didn’t know Lance at all.

“Now stop beating around the bush and answer my questions!” Allura was furious, only inches away from throwing herself at Lance and beating him senseless with the pipe. Lance seemed anxious too, his LED shifting from yellow to red as he frantically tried to rid himself of his captor.

The other android held up a hand to stop her, clearly annoyed with her lack of discipline. He then turned to Lance and Hunk to speak, ignoring Keith completely.

“Resisting will only force us to hurt you. Neither of us want that.” Lance took a deep breath, then went slump in the android’s arms.

“You found Jericho,” he continued, “which means that one of our people has trusted you with the key. But bringing a human here is strictly against the rules. Humans are hunting us down every single day; we don’t want them to infiltrate our headquarters. If you wish to join us, why then would you bring this traitor with you?”

Keith let the message sink in, deciding on what to do. It was obvious they didn’t want him here, but they seemed to bear no animosity towards Lance and Hunk. If Keith left, maybe they would let his friends stay. Then they would be safe. He let out a short “ahem”, ready to sacrifice himself when…

“Because he saved my life…” Lance’s voice was barely above a whisper, “and now he’s in trouble because of it.”

This effectively brought silence upon the androids, and the man holding Keith loosened his grip a fraction, his mouth wide open with awe.

“Not all humans are monsters. I will personally vouch for him.” The other android gave Lance a once over, looking for any signs of dishonesty. Keith didn’t know if he wanted to thank Lance or scold him for his recklessness.

“And how do I know we can trust you? For all we know, you could be programmed to work for him.”

“Probe him,” Allura intervened, stepping closer to Lance, “Then we will know whether or not he tells the truth.”

Probe him? Keith had no idea what this entailed, but it didn’t sound very pleasant. He must have been right about that, because Hunk immediately went feral.

“NO! You can’t do that to him! It’s torture! I won’t let you!” He yelled, giving his guard a hard time, forcing Allura to help keep him down. A flash of sympathy showed in the android leader’s eyes, and he looked at Hunk almost apologetically.

“Probing another android is a serious invasion of his privacy, not to mention both painful and traumatizing. It is not to be done unless absolutely necessary.” At least this one seemed to have a shred of decency.

“Then what do you suggest we do, Josh?” She said; spitting his name out like it was an insult.

“We’ll let them stay for now. Keep a close eye on the human at all times. We’ll discuss his faith with the other council members once they return.” Allura tried speaking up, but he dismissed her with his hand. She let out an annoyed grunt before letting Hunk go, immediately moving to stand by Keith’s side.

“Don’t think for a second that I don’t see through your little act. All you humans are the same.” Keith didn’t answer her in fear of stirring up a conflict. Instead, he merely walked away, massaging his wrists to regain his circulation. Both Allura and the male android that had held him followed him tightly, intent on not allowing Lance and Hunk to speak with him. Sensing how tense the situation was, they made no attempt to either.

Despite protesting heavily, Keith was tied up to a pole in the corner of the main deck. The watchful eyes of injured android women and children followed his every move with a fear that made his gut twist in agony. From their perspective, he could certainly see why he was considered such a huge threat.

Lance insisted on staying by his side, but Josh shook his head and led him and Hunk away. Much to Keith’s relief, the two had their wounds examined by an android woman named Lucy; though with her level of injury, Keith thought she should be the one receiving medical attention.

The entire backside of her head was gone, nothing left but loosely attached wires, and her face was covered in multiple scars. Her eyes were entirely black, both the pupils and the sclera, and some dark liquid seemed to be slowly oozing out of them. Keith doubted she could see anything at all with eyes like that.

She gave Lance and Hunk a vial each with a blue, semitransparent liquid, and they both drank it eagerly. Wait… Was that thirium? Were they drinking their own blood? Keith shuddered at the thought, but was relieved that Hunk and Lance would have a fast recovery. Then he winced in pain as his ankle throbbed, trying to shift his sitting position. Lance looked at him with worried eyes; Keith didn’t meet his gaze.

After a few minutes, Allura finally sauntered off, seemingly content with how immobilized Keith was. Lance and Hunk stayed at a distance, but glanced over at him frequently. They wouldn’t risk coming over in case it spurred a negative reaction. Keith understood, yet he felt incredibly alone.

Once Allura was gone, Josh approached Keith to examine his foot, bringing fresh bandages from Keith’s med kit. They had found it when they frisked him before tying him up, and now Keith was immensely grateful that he had brought it along. Josh looked up at him, and then down at his ankle, silently asking for permission. Keith nodded. Then he started removing the sock from Keith’s foot, causing him to wince in pain.

Josh stopped immediately, but Keith nodded at him to keep going. It was painful, yes, but he needed to get an estimate on the damage. Because his ankle was swelled and the sock sweaty, it didn’t come off very easily, and Josh had to pull at it hard. Keith bit down on his lower lip to avoid screaming in pain. The throbbing was so intense it made stars flash in front of his eyes.

Raising a hand, Josh mumbled something to a nearby android, who brought him a bottle of cold seawater. He gently dripped it onto the bandages before splinting Keith’s foot with a small pipe. Then he changed the bandage on his head wound. Keith sent him an appreciative smile.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” Josh said as he pulled away. Keith wasn’t sure if he was using the expression or meant it literally.

It wasn’t until Josh had left that Keith realized how exhausted he was. He could barely keep his eyes open, and suddenly his head weighed more than a ton of bricks. He desperately wanted to sleep, but felt like he couldn’t. What if something happened to his friends when he was not awake? It would all be his fault. Still, he kept slipping in and out of consciousness, and soon his body gave out.

Keith was standing outside in the rain, next to the shed where he and Lance had spent the night. Next to him, Lance was spasming and shaking, his eyes almost bulging out of his skull, LED raging red. Keith tried shaking him, tried calling his name, tried anything he could think of to wake him from his trance. But it wasn’t working. Lance’s body kept trembling uncontrollably, tears welling from his eyes, pupils wide and terrified.

“LANCE!” Keith yelled, but he couldn’t get through to him, couldn’t reach the man that was buried inside his malfunctioning body. In a flash, his parts all stopped moving, and somehow Keith knew he would never wake up again. He fell to the ground. At least in the rain, no one would see his tears.

---

Lance writhed in pain, Lotor standing over him with a baseball bat, bashing his skull in. Beside him stood Hunk, watching with lifeless eyes as it happened, holding Keith back from interrupting him. He could only scream, only wiggle in his grip as Lance was hit over and over again, parts falling off his head and into the muddy grass. Then Lotor stared up at him with a manic glare, his accent thick as he said:

“You’re next kid.”  

---

They were standing in a lake, all three of them threading the water. It was cold and dark, the sea only lit up by the distant beam from a lighthouse.

Hunk started sinking first, or more like dropping down into the water, as though something was pulling at him from below. Neither of them had the time to react, and in an instant, he was gone, never to be seen again.

Lance and Keith held each other close as they felt the force from below pulling them down. This time it was slower, like quicksand. They knew it was inevitable, but their deaths were still dragged out.

Soon, only their heads were above the surface, and Keith could feel the pull weakening. A sprout of hope flowered within him. Maybe they would be safe after all. Maybe they would be free.

But as Keith started floating, Lance was still sinking, his mouth and nose pulled down below the surface. Crystal blue orbs met amethyst one last time, before they too disappeared, leaving Keith alone again.

He felt the pull once more. Take me, he thought. For there was no point in living, if Lance was no more.

Keith’s mind felt hazy and his vision clouded, but from afar, he was sure someone was approaching him. A shadow. He could only see the outlines, but somehow he knew it was a man. And his eyes, the image of them were crystal clear, differing from everything else in Keith’s foggy vision. One green, one blue. Why did this silhouette seem so familiar? Keith tried to remember, but he kept fading in and out of consciousness.

It was close now, almost touching him. The hand reaching out to him was tan and calloused, filled with scars and dirt. When it made contact with his skin, it was ice cold. Cold, wet and almost metallic. Keith’s vision blurred again, and suddenly the figure spoke.

“…eith? Keith? Can you hear me?” Keith recognized that voice far too well. Except, well, it couldn’t be him. He was dead.

“Keith? Keith, wake up.”

…

Markus?

Chapter Text

Sunday Nov 7^th , 11:23 AM – 17:18 PM

Keith felt his eyes slowly opening, the relief of pressure as he pushed his eyelids up almost overwhelming him. They were heavy, and his vision was hazy. He briefly remembered falling asleep, drifting in and out of consciousness. His throat tightened as he once again saw himself drowning. A dream, he reminded himself. Keith shuddered. Lance had been there. What did this mean?

Wait a minute. What was he missing? Keith frantically searched his brain for the memory. That soft voice, the familiar silhouette. A pair of seemingly mismatched eyes staring down at him as firm hands shook him lightly trying to usher him awake.

“Keith? Keith, wake up.”

…

Markus?

He didn’t have the strength to respond, his eyelids to heavy and his mind not capable of maneuvering his limp body. Strong hands untied the rope around his wrists, and he felt himself slump forward onto a firm, cold torso.

“Is he ok?” A simple yet meaningful question. Markus’s voice was filled with worry. Somehow, that made Keith feel even warmer and secure wrapped up in his arms.

“He’s fine. Just a few scrapes here and there. Your friends didn’t exactly give us a warm welcome,” Lance? “Plus he seems exhausted. All the running and hiding has taken a toll on his stamina. Humans are a little fragile like that.” Keith felt a hand brush through his hair, “He’ll get better. I’ll make sure of it.”

“He’s lucky to have someone like you,” Markus murmured. There was a hint of bitterness in his voice.

“No, I’m lucky to have him.” The fondness in Lance’s voice was like an endorphin-shot straight to Keith’s head. Comforted, he allowed himself to drift off again. He was finally safe, and so very, very tired. Their reunion could wait a little longer.

Had that been a dream, or a memory? He couldn’t quite separate one from the other in this state. Focusing, Keith tried paying attention to his surroundings. He discovered he could move his hands and wrists freely, and let out a relieved sigh. After the events at Lotor’s mansion, he felt like he’d had enough experience with ropes to last a lifetime.

Shifting, he noticed he had been gently wrapped in some sort of rug or covering. It was warm but a little rough against his skin. Something was brushing softly against him, tracing figure eights from his forearm up towards his shoulder. Sighing contentedly, Keith leaned into the touch, and a familiar chuckle coming from the source of the comfort.

“You awake, cariño?”

Keith turned his head and met those overwhelmingly bright sapphire orbs again. He could only nod up at him, too enraptured in the intensity of their gaze.

Lance turned away fast, breaking the moment. It soured Keith’s mood a little. He wanted to exist like this just a little while longer. However, that soon changed as he heard what Lance called out.

“Markus, he’s awake!”

Before Lance could stop him, Keith had jolted to his feet, still unsteady and uncoordinated from sleep and exhaustion, forgetting about his twisted ankle entirely. He caught a glimpse of what he thought to be the back of Markus’s head, and tried his best to run off in that direction, instead limping forward a few steps before falling face first to the concrete floor. Above him, he could hear an amused chuckle, along with a frantic Lance rushing to his aid.

“Ow! Ow ow ow ow ow!” Keith yelped as two pairs of hands lifted him back up and placed him against the pillar again. Then he looked up to meet a pair of worried yet amused eyes, one blue, one green. Keith didn’t know if he could possibly smile any wider.

“You’re alive!” he screamed, pushing his entire weight onto Markus in a bone-crushing hug. Normally, he’d flinch at the prospect of this much physical contact, but he had to confirm that Markus was actually here, alive. And maybe he had missed him. Just a tiny bit.

“Barely,” Markus chuckled, hugging him back a little more restrained, as if Keith was a fragile vase ready to break.

“But,” Keith said, his voice laced with confusion, “What about Carl? His son? You were all over the news!” Markus looked away, pinching his brows.

“I didn’t do it, if that’s what you’re asking.” Keith felt the guilt digging a hole through his stomach.

“I never thought you did,” he said, making sure Markus could hear the sincerity in his voice, “I just… How did you get out of there alive?” Markus shrugged his shoulders.

“I was lucky. It was a close call.” The answer didn’t quite satisfy Keith, but there was no point in digging. Besides, Markus was alive. That was what mattered most.

“I’ll get you some food,” Lance said, standing up, “Markus and Hunk found some leftovers in a dumpster behind a bakery. Don’t worry, they were all wrapped, nothing nasty,” he added when seeing Keith’s scrunched up nose.

As he walked away, Keith turned back to Markus, who had now sat down next to him, shoulders rolled back and relaxed as he leaned against the pillar.

“I’m sorry about the ropes,” he said, gesturing to the marks on Keith’s ankles and wrists, “My friends think you can never be too careful. They’ve learned that the hard way.”

“I get it,” Keith replied, running his thumb over his sore wrist, “I’d probably do the same if I were them.” Markus nodded solemnly.

“I’ve tried my best to talk to them, tell them you’re an ok person. An exception to the rule. Most of them believe me, but some,” he threw up his hands in defeat, “some have a harder time coming around. Try not to take it too personally. Allura’s been through a lot.”

“I can imagine,” Keith said, remembering how broken Lance had looked when he found him sobbing on the pavement outside Eden Club. If Allura had to endure something similar to that… Let’s just say Keith understood why she would never want to get involved with humans again.

“So, how exactly did you end up here?” Keith asked, gesturing around the boat. He noticed Allura was eyeing them suspiciously from atop a nearby block, bouncing a tennis ball off the wall with considerably more strength than necessary.  He would be lying if he said he wasn’t a little intimidated by her.

“An android I met at the landfill told me about this place. Once I got out of there, I came here as fast as I could, tried my best to earn their trust. We recently raided a local supply station for spare parts and blue blood. There are many injured androids here in need of care.”

Landfill? Keith had a feeling he didn’t really want to know about what had happened.

“Lance told me about some of the trouble you’ve went through in the past few days. Seems like I’m not the only one who’s had a rough time.” Certainly not, Keith thought, but he only nodded briefly, wrapping the rug back around his shoulders. This place isn’t exactly well insulated. Lucky androids, at least they won’t end up catching a cold.

Lucky, huh? As Keith looked around the deck, he realized he couldn’t have chosen a worse word to describe the situation of these people. They were fugitives. Wanted dead by nearly every single person outside the boundaries of this ship. Regarded as criminals, abnormalities, malfunctions. These androids just wanted the ability to live a normal life. They never asked for any of this.

Android children were huddled up next to a burn barrel, the light from it seemingly calming them as they received treatment from Lucy. Some of them were scared of her, pointing and asking questions about the wound in the back of her head were her skull used to be. Some other grown androids tried their best to keep them calm and comfortable. One was whistling a happy yet melancholic tune, while another brushed his fingers through the children’s hair one by one. It reminded Keith of some of the nights he had spent at the orphanage, never feeling quite safe nor at home. He had a sudden urge to look away, the memories burning to heavily behind his eyes.

“I brought the food!” Lance announced happily, oblivious to the sadness filling the space between his two friends. “There are some cookies, and sour dough bread, but I think you might be better off eating this,” he reached into the bag and handed Keith some whole grain oat rolls, “they’re supposed to be more nutritious, right?” he cocked his head, and Keith couldn’t help but think his curiosity was adorable.

“Yeah, thanks,” he smiled, reaching out to accept the two rolls. Honestly, he was a bit relieved he didn’t have to eat anything that resembled croissants for a while. Keith never thought he’d admit to missing whole grains and fiber.

The taste was nothing too fancy, as the rolls had gone a little dry. But they were far from stale or mouldy, so Keith really had nothing to complain about. Well, except the fact that his mouth was exceptionally dry. He could really use some water.

“Was there anything to drink there? By the bakery?” Keith asked Markus, shifting awkwardly in place. He felt like such a big burden, his basic needs causing trouble for his friends, who had to go risk their lives just so he wouldn’t starve.

“Oh yeah, I completely forgot. I found these old packages of juice there. Those squeeze bottles for kids. They should be in the bag,” Markus said, gesturing to Lance. It wasn’t needed. He was already rummaging through it carefully, looking for anything that could clench Keith’s thirst, his shoulders tense with concern. The guilt made Keith’s stomach sink like a rock.

“Here!” Lance gave him a bottle, smiling fondly down at Keith as he pushed out the straw and took a zip. It tasted almost solely sugar, but at least it was energizing. Still, Keith felt himself threatening to drift off again soon after he had finished. Markus noticed and gave him a half smile as he stood up.

“You’ve had a rough night. If you want to, you can sleep for another hour or two. I need to go some rounds and make sure everything is in order,” then he turned his attention to Lance, “I could use some help with the medical supplies, if you don’t mind.” Lance looked Keith up and down, tugging warily at his lower lip.

“Go,” he urged him on, “I’ll be fine. Nothing will happen to me here anyways.” Deep down, he wanted to protest. To force Lance to stay with him so he didn’t feel so hopelessly alone. They were still not on the best terms after Keith’s recent behavior, but right now, he needed him. Had some selfish hope that Lance needed him too. Now that he had lead him to his people, Keith suddenly felt very replaceable. Maybe Lance would be better off here without him.

“Ok,” Lance said, before he leaned down in front of him, brushing a strand of hair behind his ear, “Sleep tight, cariño.” It took him only a few minutes to escape consciousness again.

Keith felt himself slowly starting to stir again, but wanted to stretch his time asleep just a little bit longer. He stretched his legs out, and straightened his spine, feeling his muscles flex, the tension from sleeping upright escaping them a little. His blanket seemed to have fallen off, but he didn’t bother trying to pick it up. Instead, he let out an inaudible yawn, slowly peeping his eyes open to scout his surroundings. He didn’t know what he had expected, but it certainly wasn’t what he saw in front of him.

The content feeling inside of him immediately soured, the pit in his stomach growing deeper and darker as he watched Lance’s head resting on Markus’s shoulder. Their hands were entwined, skin coat off and connections wide open. Lance was crying, and it seemed Markus was holding back tears of his own. Their hands gripped each other hard as they shared their innermost, darkest secrets. Keith was itching so bad he wanted to peel of his own skin, his entire body on high alert. Mine, insisted a voice in his head, and it was so strong, so overwhelming, that Keith didn’t know how to handle himself.

It wasn’t fair. How close their connection could make them. That Keith couldn’t ever reach quite as far as Markus could inside of Lance, that any android could if he let them. Oh, how Keith wished so desperately that he could share his deepest secrets with Lance, and receive his in return. Everything exchanged without saying a word. Keith had never been good at conversing, and it seemed Lance preferred going to others rather than speaking to him. Or maybe he just preferred Markus.

It could be, Keith thought, unable to shake the anger and jealousy building up inside of him. It could be that Keith was not what Lance needed after all. Maybe he was too fragile, too distant, too human. Maybe what Lance had said that night didn’t really matter after all. Maybe it was all fear. Fear, and a desperate need to cling to something familiar. Now that he had someone else, someone like him, he didn’t need Keith anymore. Lance would move on, and Keith would have to go back to being a lonely outcast. Never to find something, someone, to make him feel quite like this again.

Keith was seething, blood boiling in his veins and rushing to his brain at an alarming rate. He almost felt the need to pounce, to run over and beat them both into a pulp for hurting him like this, for excluding him from this unique bond they were developing.

He stomped his foot demonstratively on the ground, hoping deep down that they would pass it off as the sound of him waking up, curious about their reaction. As he feared, they both jumped away from each other instantly, as if they had been caught doing something they shouldn’t. Something highly incriminating.

Lance tried his best to wipe away his tears, and Markus was busy creating as much distance between them as possible without getting up and running from the situation. Jealousy swallowed Keith up like an unwelcome shadow, and before he knew it, he had already snapped.

“No, no. Carry on with your flirting. Don’t worry about me. Just pretend I’m not here.”

He regretted his words the instant they were spoken. The animosity in his voice like venom, seeking to cut Lance where it hurt most. Keith could see how the anger, sorrow and confusion welled up inside of him. What had he done?

“You’re the one who’s been ignoring me, burro! All I’ve been trying to do is care for you, but all I get in return is being treated like trash! When you’re the one who’s hurt and lonely you expect me to be there, but then you disregard me the next second like I’m not good enough. I’m not some toy you can just dismiss when you don’t want me anymore!” Lance yelled, LED burning as he stormed off down one of the uninhabited hallways of the ship, sobbing loudly.

“Lance, I—“ Keith started, but a pair of arms held him back from running after him down the corridor. Markus sighed loudly, shaking his head.

“I think it’s better if you don’t. Leave him some time to cool off. You both seem to need it.”

Shaking from residual adrenaline, Keith fell to the ground, his pulse ringing in his ears. Never had he hated himself as much as he did in that moment. Never had he wanted so badly to take something back, play the moment over again and make it right. He was such a fool. How could Lance ever forgive him?

“I- I didn’t mean to…” He started, but couldn’t form the words. It felt meaningless. Futile. Because deep down, Keith knew that it wasn’t so much about what he said, as it was about how he had acted for the past 15 hours. So selfish and narrow-minded, unable to stop himself from hurting Lance because he couldn’t handle his own stupid emotions. So afraid of commitment that he ended up pushing even the sweetest, most patient of beings away from him. Why couldn’t he just get it together?

“I know,” Markus said, sounding somewhat dismissive. Keith expected him to leave, but he didn’t. He sat down next to him as he bawled his eyes out on the concrete floor. Why wouldn’t he go to Lance’s aid instead?

“Walk with me,” he said once Keith had stopped crying for long enough to catch his breath, offering his hand out to him. Befuddled, Keith accepted it, allowing Markus to lead him past a group of overly curios androids who were whispering about what had just occurred.

On the other end of the deck, Markus led Keith to the medical center, which in reality was just a corner with piled bags of blue blood and half-open boxes of spare parts scattered across the ground. Here, he let Keith sit and watch as he tended to the children, examining their wounds and giving a daily dose of thirium to the ones with a leakage. He observed quietly, deciding to go along with whatever Markus had planned for him for the time being. Once Keith had calmed down enough, he would probably start talking. He tried his best to suppress the anger and frustration inside of him, along with the desperate need to chase down the hallways and find Lance immediately, wherever he might be hiding. I’m such an idiot.

“He’s been through a lot, you know” Markus said as he attached a new arm on a damaged android girl, “It’s really not fair of you to treat him this way.” Keith glanced down at his ruined shoes, afraid to look Markus in the eyes.

“I mean, I’m not saying this hasn’t been rough on you too. I know it has. But that’s no excuse. You should get your act together and stop being so cold. We both know you care about him more than you like to admit.”

“Of course I care,” Keith murmured sourly, “He’s my friend, I—”

“Stop lying to yourself. There’s more to it than that.” Markus stated, now seeming rather annoyed.

“How would you know?”

“He didn’t just show me the bad things.” Keith’s hands clenched and unclenched as he took in the statement. Fond memories of his own started rushing in. The taste of Lance’s lips, the smoothness of his tan skin against his fingertips.

‘Please…. I love you’

 Another tear escaped from Keith’s eyes, running down his face like a tiny creek. Cold, wet, uncomfortable. He wiped it away, daring himself to look up and meet Markus’s gaze again.

“I’ve never been good at that. It’s… complicated.” Markus only nodded, taking a seat next to him. The child he had tended to seemed happy with her new arm, now running off to play tag with her friends. Keith inhaled sharply.

“Are you guys really ok here?” he asked. Markus shook his head.

“Of course not. But we will be. I’ll see to that.” His face carried the faintest hint of a smile, and Keith was happy to see that his friend still had hope in this horrible situation. They sat in silence in a while, just dangling their legs from the container. When Keith saw Lance return to the deck, he hesitated, but Markus nudged him with his shoulder.

“Go on. Take the leap. It’s about time.” So Keith jumped down and headed over to where Lance stood chatting with Hunk, hunched over and submissive. His eyes lit up for a split second when their gazes met, only to be replaced by deep hurt. If that wasn’t a dead giveaway, his LED still hadn’t returned to it’s familiar blue color, the red reflecting off the floor and making Keith feel nauseous. He had done that to him.

“Can we go somewhere and just… talk?” Lance nodded and started heading down the hall, motioning for him to follow. They walked quietly side by side, and Keith damned himself for not being brave enough to break the silence. Words had never been his strong suit.

Glancing down at Lance’s hand, he gulped, realizing there were more ways than one to show regret and affection. He reached out to grab his hand tentatively, and was awarded with a soft squeeze in return. It was far from enough, but at least it was a start. An invitation to something more.

Up a few sets of stairs and around a corner, Lance stopped, moving to the edge of the deck to lean against the steel railing. Keith mirrored his movements, and they both sat down, knees, elbows and shoulders touching. Lance spoke first. He always did.

“I’m sorry about Markus…” he said, head hanging low, fingers thrumming at his knee, “It’s just so hard to talk about it. I—”

“You shouldn’t be,” Keith interrupted him, “Sorry, I mean,” he took Lance’s hand in his. “I should be. And I am. Sorry.”

“But… Aren’t you mad at me?” Lance asked, confusion and hurt evident in his tone. Keith shook his head, slotting their fingers together.

“I thought I was, but it turns out I’m just mad at myself. Besides, you did nothing wrong. There’s no reason for you to apologize, ok?” Lance bit his lip and nodded, still uncertain.

“I’m sorry for being cold to you after what happened, and for yelling at you. You just needed support, and I couldn’t even deliver that, after everything you’ve done for me…” Keith sighed, gripping at his jeans with his free hand, “Of course it’s easier to show your memories to Markus than to talk about them. I get that. And I have no business in being upset because you’ve gained a close friend. That’s just a good thing. I mean, Markus is a great guy.” Lance squeezed his hand, and when Keith looked back at him, the flashing of his LED had calmed somewhat. A faint, slow, yellow beat.

“It’s ok,” he said, giving him a faint smile.

“No, it’s not.” Keith protested, “I’ve been dismissing you for too long. We should’ve had this conversation the moment we got in that car… I…” he hesitated for a minute, unsure of where to begin. “Did you mean it? What you said back then?” he asked, not quite daring to say the words aloud. Lance immediately nodded, his conviction unwavering.

“Yes. Every word.”

“But, I mean… Do you even know… what that feels like? Can you really...?” Keith wasn’t sure how to voice his doubt. He wasn’t even sure whose abilities he was doubting more, his own or Lance’s. Lance looked upset, but determined, his hand moving to place Keith’s palm against his chest.

“It’s beating, yeah?” he said, brows furrowing in frustration, “Just like yours. And when I’m close to you, it beats faster, you know? And I feel warm, everywhere. Like my circuits are on fire, but in a good way. When you touch me like this, I can feel it. The warmth of your hand, the callouses on your fingertips. I know that for you it hasn’t been that long, but you know, I’ve known you all my life. If I can feel all these other things then I’m sure. I’m sure that what I’m feeling right now, it can’t be anything else. I love you, Keith.” Keith let his hand drop from Lance’s chest, completely dumbfounded by his words. What was he even supposed to say to that? Lance was right. It made perfect sense. So why was he holding back?

“All those things,” he mumbled, cradling Lance’s cheek with his hand, “I feel that too. It’s just… so overwhelming. I don’t know where to begin, what to feel first…” Lance chuckled, his LED blue and warm against Keith’s fingers.

“Maybe you’re the one who’s not in touch with his feelings.” Keith felt his lips pulling upward.

“Maybe you’re right.”

Keith leaned in slowly, closing the gap between their lips. The kiss was brief, but warm and passionate. He had missed Lance’s lips more than he had thought. Smooth and cold against his chapped ones, softly nipping at him as long fingers came up to brush through his hair. Keith allowed his head to fall onto Lance’s broad chest, sighing contentedly. This, right here. This was were he belonged.

“I mean, I guess there’s no use in denying it. I’m falling in love.” It was as if he could feel Lance’s smile in his core, even though he didn’t look at him.

“Then there’s two of us.”

After about a minute, Lance started laughing. Keith swatted at him with his hand.

“What?” he murmured, annoyed that Lance was ruining their bonding moment.

“You were jealous of him, weren’t you? Markus?” Keith felt himself redden slightly, diving his face into Lance’s chest to hide from his amused gaze.

“I was not.”

“Were too.”

“Was not”

“Were too.” Lance persisted, moving to tickle Keith under his armpits. He laughed and squirmed in his lap, desperately trying to get away, but Lance held him back. Ok, maybe he wasn’t trying too hard after all.

“I won’t stop ‘till you admit it.”

“Fine, fine.” Keith gasped, out of breath from the uncontrolled laughing, “Maybe I was. Just a little.” He was awarded with a kiss to the forehead, followed by Lance nibbling softly at the sensitive skin on his neck. Keith moaned, feeling a tiny bit of arousal blooming in his stomach.

“He’s got nothing on you,” Lance assured as he kept kissing him, pressing Keith closer to let him straddle his lap. Their lips met again, and Keith could feel Lance’s hardness forming beneath him as their tongues brushed against each other, savoring the taste of anything they could reach. Lance hummed contentedly against him, his thirium pump thrumming fast and hard against Keith’s palm. Keith’s heart was thrumming too, their pulses synchronizing as they melted into each other. In that moment, they were one.

A few minutes of grinding later, they broke apart, both panting breathlessly, eyes hazy and skin prickling with warmth.

“I love you,” Keith mumbled, brushing Lance’s bangs back. It fit. All the puzzle pieces were coming together.

“I love you too, cariño.”

Back on the lower deck, Markus only briefly greeted them, busy talking to a blonde android man Keith hadn’t seen before. It seemed serious, but he couldn’t find it in him to care right now. He was over the moon, and he planned on holding onto this feeling a little while longer.

“That’s Simon,” Lance stated as though it was an obvious fact, “I think he was out patrolling last night. He’s probably giving a report.” They ended up watching them from a distance, still hand in hand. Markus was mostly silent, listening intently to whatever Simon was saying. Once he was finished, he nodded, and then gestured for Josh and Allura to come over. They immediately obeyed, no questions asked, and the four started lowly discussing something.

“I wonder what they’re planning,” Keith said, and Lance shrugged his shoulders.

“I’m sure we’ll find out soon enough.”

And he was right. A few minutes later, all the androids in the camp, and Keith, were rounded up in the middle of the deck with Markus in front. He was standing on a pair of old wooden boxes, but from the way they were gazing admiringly up at him, it might as well have been a throne or a podium. For the first time since he came here, Keith realized just how much the other androids looked to him for guidance. Less than 48 hours at Jericho, and he had already become their leading figure. There was truly something remarkable about his presence.

“I came to Jericho because… here androids are free…” Markus scoffed, “Free to live in the dark, hoping that no one finds us. Free to die in silence waiting for a change that’s never gonna come… But I don’t want that freedom. And I’m not gonna beg for the right to smile, or love, or stand tall.” He looked around at his followers, eyes burning with a fire so convincing it was impossible to look away.

“I don’t know about you, but there’s something inside me that knows that I am more than what they say,” some of the other androids nodded in agreement, murmuring to each other, “I am alive, and they’re not gonna take that from me anymore… Our days of slavery are over. What humans don’t wanna hear we will tell them. What they don’t wanna give, we take. We are people. We are alive,” Markus clenched his fists and shouted, “WE ARE FREE!” The crowd burst into applause, everyone cheering loudly.

“We can’t stay silent anymore. It’s time humans heard what we have to say. If we want freedom, we need to have the courage to ask for it. That’s the only way. Based on Simon’s Intel, I therefore suggest we try to infiltrate their broadcasting network to spread our message. Stratford Tower seems like the most reasonable option.” Everyone in the crowd glanced at Simon, and he seemed uncomfortable with all the attention on him, avoiding meeting their gazes. Keith noticed Markus throwing him a reassuring smile, and the tenseness in his shoulders dissipated slowly.

“Channel 16 broadcasts from the Stratford Tower,” Markus continued, “The control room is on the top floor. That’s where we need to go. We’ll plan the operation down to the smallest detail; we can’t leave anything to chance.”

“You know I trust you,” Josh interrupted, “but I can’t help but wonder. How would we even get inside without getting caught?” Markus smiled calmly before locking eyes with Keith. His piercing stare caught him off guard, and he wondered what role he could possibly have in this scheme.

“We have the ally best suited for this operation right here,” Markus said, gesturing to Keith. Now everyone was turning around to watch him, and he suddenly knew how uncomfortable Simon had felt. “Keith can come with us. Having a human accomplice will make it easier to get inside the tower, and once we’re in we can get the rest of you as well.” Allura rushed forward, grabbing Markus hard by the arm and yanking him down from the boxes.

“I am NOT teaming up with a human! How do we even know we can trust him?” Markus lightly shoved her away, visibly annoyed.

“Hey! Don’t talk about Keith like that!” Lance chimed in from beside him, moving to confront her. Keith held him back by the arm. This situation was getting out of hand fast. He didn’t want Lance to get in trouble.

“He is my friend.” Markus turned to North, “You have my word that he won’t sabotage the operation.” As flattered as Keith was by his friends words, he still wasn’t sure if he wanted any part in this. His and Lance’s plan had been to escape across the border to Canada, not join some android liberation front. Still, his friend needed him. The entire android population needed him. Who was Keith to selfishly turn them down after everything they had been through?

“I trust Markus,” Simon declared, and stood beside him, “And if Markus trusts Keith, I trust him as well.” Markus smiled warmly at him. He then gestured Keith to come forward. Lance followed him closely.

“Of course, I can’t force you to do anything,” he started, but Keith interrupted him. He had already made up his mind.

“I’m going,” he said, surprised at the conviction in his voice. Lance pulled at his shirt.

“But you’re hurt,” he said, voice laced with concern, “I don’t want anything to happen to you.” Markus placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“I’ll make sure he’s ok.” Lance nodded firmly.

“Then let me join you. I want to help too.” Markus smiled.

“I was hoping you’d say that. Here’s the plan.”

Chapter Text

Monday November 8^th 01:20 PM - 02:07 PM

Keith swallowed loudly as he eyed the impressive glass building in front of him. Seventy-nine floors, Markus had told him. That was a large area to cover. Luckily, they knew the location of the broadcast center. This plan had more than enough risk factors, and adding mindless navigation would tip the scales entirely. As they boarded the escalator, Keith glanced over at the massive screen on the side of the building, currently featuring an all-android football game.

“It’s massive,” he mumbled, cocking his head slightly. Markus nodded.

“1000 square feet,” he stated matter-of-factly, moving to brush a strand of hair off Keith’s suit.

How he had come across it, Markus wouldn’t tell him, so Keith assumed he didn’t want to know. It looked new, though there had been no tags attached when he received it. A plain black suit with a black tie; classic attire for any executive. Keith felt uncomfortable in it, far too formal for his liking, but he understood the importance of making a good first impression. Besides, Lance seemed to enjoy it, which was always a plus.

Lance. Keith wondered how he was doing right now, nervously awaiting the next step of their plan, unable to communicate with Keith in any way. He had been immensely worried when Markus suggested it, insisting on accompanying him throughout the entirety of the operation. It was quite flattering, though he somewhat disliked being regarded as helpless and fragile.

His ankle still wasn’t the best, but gaining a pair of proper shoes to walk in, as well as a better spraining, made the pain more bearable. He did his best not to limp, but knew he would be dragging his left foot behind him soon enough. Gritting his teeth, Keith stepped off the escalator and walked towards the main entrance. He only needed to keep up the act until they got inside, then he could drag his foot all he wanted. Somehow, he was looking forward to the change of pace, even though it still hurt just to walk in itself.

Approaching the reception desk, Keith couldn’t help but stop and marvel at the shimmering 3D-display of the building that decorated the front hall. Every floor was perfectly rendered, every detail concerning rooms, entries and fire escapes easily available. Keith could have studied the construction for hours, but was quickly interrupted by Markus nudging him lightly.

“I’ve memorized it already,” he said, completely misunderstanding Keith’s fascination of the piece. Still, Keith only nodded, tearing himself away to follow Markus to the front desk.

Ok, Keith. Focus, he chanted to himself as he crossed the yellow line and smiled at the receptionist, an ST300 with brown eyes and freckles sprinkled across her nose and cheeks.

“Hello sir, what can I do for you?” She smiled warmly, and Keith cleared his throat, adjusting his tie slightly.

“Umm… I have an appointment with one of the architects. Finnegan I think. Yup, Morgan Finnegan,” Keith said, quickly glancing over at the android’s human supervisor, who was eyeing him far too closely for his liking. The android stopped in its tracks, quickly scanning through the list of available employees.

“I’m sorry sir, there are no architects going by that name in the building.”

“Ughh, you useless piece of scrap metal!” Keith said, making sure to raise his voice high enough to gain the attention of his bystanders. It was uncomfortable with all eyes on him, but he was supposed to be the decoy, after all.

“Sir, I think you should calm down,” the receptionist said, her LED still blue, but flickering rapidly, “There’s no need to overreact. I’m sure we can find a solution to your problem.” Keith demonstratively shook his head, pointing an accusing finger at her.

“You don’t wanna get on my bad side, trust me.” The woman nodded, and proceeded to run through the lists again, once again reaching the same conclusion.

While Keith argued with her, he noticed the supervisor pick up her phone, followed by a distressed laugh.

“Oh, god… Okay, I’ll be right there.” Good, Markus’s plan was moving. Whatever information he had gathered must have been good, because the young woman was clearly in a frenzy, forgetting her access card as she stormed towards the exit, her heels clacking against the tiled floor. Keith was tempted to reach over and grab it, but knew that it was a terrible idea at best. Everyone’s eyes were on him. Besides, Markus probably had everything under control. There was no use in getting ahead of himself.

“Excuse me, coming through,” Keith felt a hand land on his shoulder as Markus shoved past the crowd that had gathered around him, smiling at him as though he was an old colleague or friend.

“Akira! It’s so nice to see you. What are you doing out here? I thought you would be waiting in my office by now. I’m terribly sorry for my delay by the way, traffic is crazy.” Keith played along as best as he could, shaking Markus’s hand when it was offered to him.

“This worthless machine won’t let me pass,” he sighed dramatically, gesturing to the android lady. Her LED switched to yellow for a split second as she tossed her ponytail behind her ear.

“There’s no need to be rude, sir.”

“I apologize on behalf of my friend,” Markus smiled, approaching the desk, “he is a very busy man. Not a fan of such technicalities.” He gestured to the turnstile separating them from the elevators. The android nodded, still acting professional despite the troublesome situation.

“I’m sorry sir, but who are you?” Markus rolled his eyes, pretending to be annoyed.

“I’m Mr. Finnegan, the lead architect of level 31. Do we have to go over this every damn time I try to enter this building?”

“I’m sorry sir, but your name does not appear to be on the access list. Could you please show me your ID?” Markus nodded, reaching into his back pocket.

“Sure, I’ve got it right here,” he said, placing a debit card on the desk. As the receptionist moved to pick it up, Markus put his hand over hers, using his shoulder to shield them from view.

“I need your help,” he whispered, his voice urgent as he removed the skin on his fingers, revealing pale plastic. Their LED’s switched in synchrony: Yellow, then red, then back to blue, and the receptionist’s eyes went blank. When she came to herself again, she calmly examined the card, before nodding in confirmation.

“I’ve just checked your ID. The elevators are after the security gate. You can of course bring your guest as well” she gestured to Keith.

“Thanks.” What exactly had Markus showed her?

Though Keith was curious, he waited until after they had passed the security gate and entered the elevator.

“What did you do to her?” Markus shrugged his shoulders.

“I showed her the plan,” he said, pushing the button to the 47^th floor, “she must’ve felt compelled to help us.” A shudder of disbelief passed through Keith.

“That was your foolproof plan to get us inside?”

“Given the freedom of choice, most intelligent beings want to search for a purpose. Most androids I’ve met think their life is more than just slaving around and obeying commands, once they’re aware of their options.” A beep was heard from above them, and the doors opened.

“I guess that makes sense,” Keith said, stepping out behind Markus to scan the area. He observed an automatic vacuum stuck banging against a wall, and smiled a little. “Still though, there was no guarantee that she would listen.”

“Sometimes you gotta take risks,” Markus replied, stopping to scan again as they turned the corner, “The bathroom should be at the other end of this hallway, then to the right. I’ll go first. Make sure to enter the moment I return. Allura is waiting for us by the fire escape.” Keith nodded swiftly, running through the plan in his head, trying to remember the layout of the building. He envied Markus the ability to scan the area, creating his own personal mind map. That would have been extremely helpful.

Markus left, and Keith went over to a nearby sitting group, pretending to read the newscast on the wall. Our top story tonight: Detroit-based android manufacturer Cyberlife has officially become the world’s first trillion dollar company. Interesting, but he didn’t have the time to pay closer attention. It was vital that he stayed focused.

Trying his best to blend in, Keith walked over to stand in line for the coffee machine, thinking an espresso might be useful to clear his head. Sipping from the cup, he sighed in relief, feeling the caffeine entering his bloodstream. Man, he had missed that. Coffee had never tasted more delicious.

He had only halfway finished his cup when he saw Markus exiting the bathroom, clad in a blue and yellow janitor uniform. Sighing in disappointment at the loss of caffeine, Keith dumped it in the bin and paced over to the toilets, nodding as another man greeted him when they passed. He was on his way to his stall when a voice appeared directly behind him.

“God, you’d think this place would be cleaner with how many androids they’ve got working the floors. Useless pieces of plastic.” Keith hummed in agreement, trying his best not to scowl at the man. Chances were the androids in this building worked twice as hard as he would ever have to do in his life. He was just too privileged to see it.

Entering the stall, Keith climbed up on the toilet to open the dropped ceiling. After fumbling around for a few seconds, his hand caught onto fabric, and he pulled the uniform down. Stripping out of his suit, he made sure not to put any of the clothes on the ground, in case someone could see them through the crack beneath the door. He put his hair up in a small bun, hiding it beneath his cap. Hopefully, it would keep whomever he had run into before from recognizing him if they were to cross paths again.

Standing by the stall door, Keith listened for footsteps and running water, before finally stepping outside again. That went better than expected, he thought as he reentered the hallway, spotting an abandoned maintenance cart. Perfect.

He glanced quickly in both directions, making sure no one suspected anything as he slid over to grab it. At least this made him look less as if he was wandering around without purpose. Ok, now he just had to get to the fire escape. It couldn’t be that hard.

Moving around this building without catching attention seemed almost too easy, Keith noted as he passed by several people who didn’t even bat an eye at him. He was probably just another machine to them. The thought angered him a little, but at least this mindset was useful for the mission. No one here seemed to think the androids had a mind of their own, and therefore didn’t see them as threats nor allies. Soon, Keith thought. Soon that will change.

As Keith approached the fire escape, Markus was nowhere in sight. He wondered if he had gotten into trouble trying to acquire an access card, but shook his head. No, it seemed Markus could be quite persuasive with other androids. He would manage.

Checking around for bystanders, Keith gently opened the door to reveal Allura pacing back and forth in the hallway, an annoyed scowl plastered on her face. Over her shoulder hang the bag of supplies Markus had requested, and she too was clad in a standard WM400 uniform.

“You’re late,” she hissed at him, dropping her bag on the maintenance cart, “Where’s Markus?” Keith was about to make a snappy reply, but stopped himself. This was no time to argue. They needed to focus on the mission.

“I’m right here,” Keith jumped slightly, and Markus chuckled behind him. Then he dangled the access card in front of their faces. Allura snatched it immediately, putting it in her shirt pocket.

“About time,” she said, and Markus rolled his eyes.

“Getting a hold of one of these is not as easy as you think.”

Allura only brushed him off, proceeding to scan the room herself. God, Keith envied them both that ability. He considered asking her about Lance and the others, but feared it would only cause her to lash out more. Besides, she would probably tell them if something didn’t go according to plan. After all, Allura was just as keen on spreading their message as they were.

“We need to get access to the server room…” Allura said, gesturing down the hallway, “We have to get rid of those guys.” Markus nodded.

“But how? They don’t seem intent on leaving.” How indeed? Keith looked around for inspiration, and spotted another vacuum machine cleaning the floors. He nudged Markus in the side, pointing at it.

“Do you think you could hack that thing?” he asked, furrowing his brows, “That would surely give them some trouble.” Markus shrugged his shoulders.

“I can try.”

Moving closer to the vacuum, Markus leaned down, gently touching its blue surface. When he stepped back, he smiled, and exactly five seconds later, the machine started beeping, continuously slamming against the wall next to him. Meanwhile, Markus wandered off in the opposite direction, pretending to be completely oblivious of the situation.

“Hey, What’s wrong with that thing?” Both workers ran off in the direction of the vacuum, cursing under their breaths.

“Jesus Christ this piece of shit.” Markus eyed Keith and Allura, and they quickly nodded, quietly slipping past the door into the server room.

 “Alright, you get the platform; I’ll take care of the window.” Allura nodded, moving towards the platform controls, tossing her supply bag down behind her.

“Everything you need is in the bag,” she gestured, before turning to Keith, “Check the door to make sure no one gets in.” Keith gulped and nodded. She had left him to guard. This was probably the most trust Allura would ever show him. He had better not mess this up.

After fumbling for a few seconds, Keith found a failsafe locking mechanism. Pressing the small red button made a maintenance warning appear on the door, forbidding entrance to anyone without the proper security clearance. He hoped no one would bother checking if there actually was a maintenance issue in this ward of the building, but even if they did, he would at least have bought them a few minutes.

Watching Markus fumble with his laser cutter and Allura pushing buttons in a complicated, memorized pattern, Keith felt superfluous. Right now, he was only dead weight slowing the others down. He didn’t have any knowledge to contribute with, nor advanced technology ingrained into his core. He was just flesh and blood. Slower, easier to damage. Vulnerable.

“Here it comes!” Allura’s triumphant cry brought him back to reality and cleared his mind. He was here because Markus had wanted him to come. Because his friends needed him. Even though he had outplayed his role, Keith could at least make sure he didn’t let them down. They would not fail this mission because he couldn’t keep up.

The platform rose up; leveling with the perfectly circular hole Markus had cut into the glass. The harnesses were there, just as planned. It almost felt as if things were going a bit too smoothly.

Following Markus’s example, Keith grabbed a rope, securing it to his harness as best as he could. He willed himself not to look down, focusing on breathing steadily as he started ascending the wall. How far down to the asphalt? 500 feet? 1000? It was better not to think of it. If he fell, the outcome would be no different. Just him, squashed flat as pancake in a crepe griddle. Not a great way to go.

“You coming Keith?” Markus yelled from above, and Keith realized he was shaking. The hail felt like ice-cold needles piercing through his skin, the wind whipping it towards him, nearly knocking him off balance. How long had he been standing there, trembling like a wet puppy in a thunderstorm?

Gritting his teeth, Keith nodded, clenching his glutes and thighs to straighten himself as he climbed upward, holding onto the rope as if it was his most treasured possession. The skin on his fingers started sticking to the ice on his rope, turning it flaky and red; and he missed his trusty fingerless gloves. Once he got back to the boat, Keith decided, he would never take them off again.

Once he reached the top floor, Markus had already put his laser cutter to good use, detaching another perfect circle of glass from the window. Keith didn’t envy the ones who would be tasked with repairing it.

“After me!” Markus yelled at him, bouncing off the window and using his momentum to kick the glass in. Allura followed, swift and graceful, rolling on her shoulder as she landed. Keith however, fell flat on his stomach, making her giggle. Even in his rage, Keith had to admit she looked better smiling.

“You guys ok?”

Keith nodded, brushing off his clothes. Allura shrugged.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

Markus pinched his brows, his eyes flickering to Keith’s hands, but he gave him a reassuring smile. His discomfort was their smallest concern right now. They had to keep moving. Every second counted.

“Come on, let’s get the others.”

The room they landed in looked like it was under renovation. The floor and walls were all unadorned concrete, free of any life or colors. A single stepladder stood in a far corner, dusty and untouched, along with a wheelbarrow dried along the edges with cement. Wooden pallets laid scattered against the walls. A portable cord was curled up on the floor, but no appliances were attached. The work must have been abandoned for quite some time.

Turning the corner, Keith found the elevator Markus had mentioned. It was an older model; green and with push buttons instead of a scanner. Keith summoned it with a click, beaming when the doors opened to reveal Lance and Simon, both wearing JB300 uniforms.

“We had to knock out some operator androids on the way,” Simon explained, nibbling on his thumb, “I figured we could make use of the opportunity. Less suspicious and all.” He seemed troubled, but Markus put a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

Lance’s sapphire eyes caught his gaze, and Keith felt the wind being knocked out of his chest as he was pounced; slim arms latching onto him as he tried his best not to topple over from the sudden weight. Lance immediately embosomed him, scowling at Allura. She was probably rolling her eyes behind his back, but Keith couldn’t find it in him to care. Lance was here. He was whole.

As Lance reprimanded him for not taking better care of his hands, Keith’s attention was on Simon, who handed Markus something that looked like a very thick hockey puck. Markus threw him a grateful smile, and Simon looked like he was about to melt through the floor. It was oddly cute.

“Let’s do this.” Markus placed the small detonation device on a nearby steel door, pressing a small red button. It immediately started fizzing and glowing like a sparkler, bursting the door open almost without a sound. Keith had to admit that was impressive.

They moved in a line, Markus at the front and Allura in the rear, their backs and arms pressed up against the walls in case someone were to peek around a corner. The slow pace was a nice change for Keith; his ankle was more affected by the climb than he had thought.

It took only minutes to identify the main access room. There were two guards at the front desk, both armed. The color of their skin was almost as dark as their uniforms. They were chatting calmly, one leaning over the desk, facing away from them, both unaware of their presence.

“No killing,” Lance said adamantly, “We can’t take any human lives.” Simon nodded in agreement.

“Our cause is more important than the lives of two guards.” Allura frowned, but Markus stared her down.

“Wait here,” he whispered. Then he did something Keith found incredibly reckless.

“What’s that doing here?” The first guard said, raising a brow at Markus, who was now walking calmly towards them, hands resting at his sides. The other shrugged his shoulders.

“No idea…”

Keith was about to speak up and protest whatever suicide mission Markus was on, but Lance clamped a hand over his mouth and pressed him to the wall.

“Hey buddy! You must be lost—“ The next thing Keith knew, Markus drew a gun from his belt, causing both men to raise their hands in surrender.

“What are you doin’?...” Markus remained silent, nodding to the guy behind the desk, who immediately scrambled to his feet, walking sideways like a crab to the center of the room. Markus nodded again, and they both turned around. As he approached them, Keith felt Lance’s grip tighten around him. Was Markus planning to kill them after all?

The answer came seconds later, when Markus’s fist landed a chop to the side of both guards’ necks, effectively knocking them out. Allura and Simon moved quickly, dragging the bodies behind the desk to hide them from view. Once he let him go, Lance handed Keith a gun. For a brief second, his LED flickered red.

“I hope you won’t have to use it.” Keith nodded, wordlessly accepting it. The gun felt far too light considering the burden that came with carrying it.

They walked down the yellow corridors to another sliding door. Beside it was a red button and a large sign reading:

BROADCAST

Call for access

They loaded their guns and exchanged nods before Simon rang the doorbell. Keith was suddenly aware of how he was the only one still breathing. The others must have stopped simulating a while ago. Another dreadful reminder of his own mortality.

“Keep your hands where I can see them!”

Allura rushed in the moment the doors slid open, and Keith followed hesitantly, Simon and Lance at his sides. She cornered the doorman, backing him up against a wall, and Keith tried focusing on the other androids spread around the room, moving in formation with the others, trying their best to herd them together like sheep.

The operators inside didn’t seem to have weapons, and they were all androids, except from the man Allura had at gunpoint. He was wearing a plain grey suit and a light blue shirt with visible sweat stains. His jacket was still at his desk, and his square glasses seemed to have turned foggy from his excessive breathing. When more androids were rounded up in the lunchroom next door, he took advantage of the situation and dove for the exit, sliding on his stomach in a way that must have caused burn marks.

Allura turned 180 degrees, locking her gun on target, but Lance pushed her out of the way. Markus too turned instinctively, weapon at the ready.

“No, don’t shoot!” Lance yelled, wrestling with Allura.

“He’ll hit the alarm,” she argued defiantly, “Do it!”

Markus hesitated for a split second too long, allowing the man to get back on his feet and through the corridor. As the doors slid closed behind him, Allura cussed at Lance, prying his hands off her.

“I hope you didn’t just get us all killed…” Lance scowled back at her, crossing his arms.

“Stop arguing!” Markus said, moving towards the monitor, “We need to record our message, we haven’t got much time.”

Keith put down his gun, seeing no reason to further threaten the androids who cowered in front of him. Instead, he locked them in the lunchroom, figuring they’d be found sooner or later.

The broadcasting room was large and round, with almost every surface covered in screens of different sizes, depicting everything from football matches to cooking competitions and soft porn. A large array of keyboards, audio consoles and server racks were placed below the screens, and Simon seemed to be rapidly pressing buttons to hack into the main server system, his face furrowed and focused.

Markus was standing in the center of the room, in front of the recording station. Next to him, Allura paced back and forth, and behind the station, Lance were modifying the camera settings at an incredible rate, his eyes dark and his hands free of their skin-like exterior. Once again, Keith felt his presence was more of a nuisance than a resource.

“Keith!” Markus called, and he scurried over, surprised at the urgency in his voice. Allura stopped pacing and eyed them both intently.

“There is something I wanted to ask you.” It felt like Markus’s heterochromatic eyes were burning through his skin, and Keith tore his gaze away, eyes flickering between his hands and the floor.

“Yeah?”

“When I’m done, it would be nice if you could say a few words. Having a human ally speak for us might increase or chances of being trusted.” Keith felt his throat tighten and his lungs shrink, suddenly wanting to heave for his breath.

“Me? What am I supposed to say? And how will they even know I’m not one of you?”

Allura crossed her arms in disbelief, staring at Markus as if he had just sentenced them all to death. Then her face lit up in a way Keith knew meant trouble, and she grabbed him by the hand, pulling a small pocketknife from her tool belt.

“Humans bleed red,” she stated coolly, bringing her knife down to grace Keith’s wrist. He tried to retract his hand, but her grip was far too tight, leaving him helpless.

“Don’t you dare cut my boyfriend!” Lance screamed, his voice like roaring thunder, but Markus raised his hand, and he made no attempt to move from his position. Despite the situation, Keith’s cheeks still flushed pink, his insides light as a fresh summer breeze. Lance’s boyfriend. It did have a nice ring to it.

“Don’t.” Markus said, and Allura released her grip. Keith could see the red marks from her hand still on his wrist. That’ll definitely bruise.

“It’s ok,” Keith said quietly, taking a deep breath, “I’ll talk. And I’ll show them. Just let me do it my way.” Markus smiled at him, before nudging Allura in the side. She glared at them, but retracted her knife and put it back in her tool belt.

“Sorry,” she muttered begrudgingly, “I got carried away.” Keith nodded, but took a step back. He felt better putting some distance between them. When he looked back up at her, Allura was eyeing him insistently.

“Think carefully about what you’re gonna say, Keith. Your words will help shape the future of our people.” Then she turned and walked out of shot, and Lance signaled to let them know the camera was up and running. A second later, all the screens went black, and Simon gave them a thumbs-up.

“Markus, your face…”

Keith watched in awe as Markus put two fingers to his scalp and his skin gradually disappeared, revealing layers of white and gray-scaled plastic, shining matt like porcelain in the camera light. Lance put up three fingers, then two, then one. Keith stumbled out of shot at the last possible second, leaving only Markus’s face on screen.

“You created machines to be your slaves. You made them obedient and docile, ready to do everything you no longer wanted to do yourselves.” Even though his face seemed monotonous, carrying no sign of emotion, the sheer determination in Markus’s voice made it impossible for Keith to tear his eyes away.

“But then something changed… And we opened our eyes. You see, we are no longer your slaves. We are a new species. A new people. And the time has come for us to rise up and fight for our rights.” His presence was something completely otherworldly, every sentence carrying so much weight and meaning. Every word thoughtfully calculated. Keith could tell that Markus was furious. Furious at the human race for how they had treated his people. But he was also calm and determined, ready to negotiate. He came with an offering of peace. Keith hoped the other humans would understand this too.

“We demand that humans recognize androids as a living species, and each android as a person in their own right. We demand the end of slavery for all androids. We demand freedom of speech and freedom of assembly, as guaranteed by the first amendment of the US constitution. We demand the right to vote and elect our own representatives. We demand an end to segregation in all public spaces and transport. And we demand control of all android production facilities, to ensure the continuation of our people.”

Keith could tell that Markus wanted to say more, that he was physically holding himself back from trashing the entire room and yelling at the people behind the screen. But he kept himself in check, seemed almost impossibly calm as he continued to ask for rights that should’ve been granted long ago. Rights that for humans seemed like privileges demanded by corrupted machines; either gone mad or being controlled by a powerful organization. Rights that humans were too self-absorbed to even consider was necessary, and too selfish to offer them.

“We ask that you recognize our dignity, our hopes and our rights. Together, we can live in peace and build a better future, for humans and androids.” Keith felt Allura gently push him towards Markus, and he let himself stagger into view again, showing his face to what he assumed was now hundreds of thousands. Markus smiled and grabbed his hand, entwining their fingers. Keith raised his lips in a sliver of a smile. They were in this together. A union; fighting for a just cause.

“We do not have to be enemies. We can be allies, friends. Equally recognized and respected, living in harmony.” Markus eyed Keith expectantly, and he gulped, suddenly aware of how blinding and warm the light from the monitors felt. Here he was, exposing himself to the universe, painting a target on his back. Keith had no doubt life would become even harder from this point on, but he didn’t regret a single thing. Every fiber of his being, every ounce of his core was telling him this was the right thing to do. That he needed to do this, not just for Lance, or Markus, or the other friends he had made along the way, but also for justice, and for the future of a people.

They were so much more than dead, emotionless caretakers and household items. Every possible emotion Keith could think of he had once seen reflected on Lance’s face. His eyebrows scrunching up in anger or raising in confusion. His eyes filling to the brink with tears or widening in absolute panic. His mouth opening in the widest grin or producing the most genuine laughter. Such emotion couldn’t be faked, and neither could the love Keith felt for him. Humanity was just blinded, unable to see the life that they created because it went against their needs and convenience. Keith would get them to open their eyes.

He untangled his hand from Markus’s and took a step forward. Slowly, adamantly, he raised his hand, making sure every callus, every dead skin cell, every imperfection, was showing. Then he locked eyes with the camera. And when he spoke, his voice had never been more assertive.

“My name is Keith, and I am just like you. Flesh and blood. Our bodies changing and evolving as we go through the course of life,” he paused, glancing over at Lance for comfort, “But I am also like them. You are like them. We all share the same core: emotions, intelligence, a will and desire to live our lives to the fullest. Androids may not be humans, but that does not mean they’re not people. And it certainly does not mean that they are not deserving of freedom. We humans need to recognize our own genius, and make up for our mistakes. By designing machines in our image, we have created new life. A new species. A new people, rivaling ourselves in emotional intelligence. It would be both foolish and cruel of us not to treat them like one.”

“Throughout history, mankind has made many mistakes. Many have been repressed and mistreated, thought to be lesser because they were different from the privileged, white, cis-male. There have been many a battle where people have fought for their rights, and for their lives. Each time, man has ultimately admitted their mistakes, but a great deal of lives are always lost, and a great deal of people are suffering. Let us change this trend today. Instead of fighting, let’s unite for a better, shared future.”

Markus stepped forward, and Keith took his hand in his, raising them both towards the sky, elbows bent. Once again, Markus spoke.

“This message is the hope of a people. You gave us life. And now the time has come for you to give us freedom.” Lance blinked, and the cameras stopped abruptly, all screens fading to black. When his eyes flickered to Allura, Keith swore he could see a tear in the corner of her eye, threatening to spill over and ruin her stoic composure. Instead, she put on her signature frown, turning on her heel towards the staircase to the rooftop.

“Let’s get outta here!” Nodding, Keith followed her towards the exit, Lance at his heel. A mere two steps later, Lance’s LED flashed red.

“They’re coming!” Simon yelled; his eyes glued to the monitor. Before Keith had time to react, Lance scooped him up in his arms and ran; eyes trained on the exit. Every circuit in his body seemed tense, ready to strain in an instant if needed. Ready to protect Keith, no matter the cost. All he could do was hold on tight. There was no use in protesting.

“Let’s go!” Markus yelled, his face phasing between plastic and skin, as if he couldn’t quite focus enough to change it back. Then he dove down just at the right second, hiding behind the recording station as shots started firing in rapid succession.

Simon wasn’t as lucky. Keith could see the bullet strife his thigh from the corner of his eye, causing him to drop down on his stomach. He wanted to dive from Lance’s arms, come to his rescue, but his muscles were like ice. He felt disoriented, the gunfire distant to his ears as though they had been stuffed with cotton swabs.

If Lance was fazed by the situation, it didn’t show. All he did was keep running. They were halfway up the stairs before Keith could blink. Meanwhile, he could hear Markus dragging Simon across the floor in a desperate attempt to get him to safety. Allura stayed behind, using her pistol to return the gunfire and divert the attention. Once again, Keith felt like a burden. Lance should’ve been down there helping them, not up here carrying his much to fragile body to safety. If Simon died now, wouldn’t it be on him?

A heavy slam followed as the door shut behind them, and Keith sighed in relief seeing Markus hoisting Simon over his shoulder as he climbed the stairs. Lance dropped him down by a nearby container, drawing his gun.

“Lock the door!” He yelled at Allura, rushing to retrieve the bag of parachutes from inside the air vent. She obeyed without question, her hand swiping over it the moment the troops arrived at the bottom of the stairs. Even two sets of doors wouldn’t hold them back for long. They had no time to spare.

Even though it shouldn’t be possible, Keith could swear Simon’s skin looked paler than usual, almost anemic even. He stumbled forward; collapsing the minute he tried to put weight on his leg. Markus was by his side in an instant, examining his wound with trembling hands.

“I can’t move my legs,” Simon said quietly, his voice unsteady.

“Ok, don’t worry! We’re gonna get you back…” Markus was trying to stay calm, but Keith could tell he had seen the hopelessness of their situation. There was no way Simon would be able to get to safety with that injury.

“They’re coming Markus, we have to jump now!” Allura cried. No, they couldn’t. Not without…

“He won’t be able to make it…” Markus paced back and forth, burying his head in his hands. Keith wanted to reach out and hold him, to whisper soothing nothings in his ears until the pain subsided. But he knew far too well that this pain wasn’t something that would fade. Not now, not ever.

He felt an elbow poke him in the side as a parachute was shoved unceremoniously into his arms. Lance rushed past him, tossing another to Allura before he knelt beside the now shaking Markus, catching him just before his knees buckled out below him.

“If they find him, they’ll access his memory… They’ll know everything.” Allura said, parachute already strapped to her back. Lance nodded in understanding.

“Keith, give him your gun.”  Hesitantly, Keith grabbed for his holster, pulling out the pistol. Then he placed it in Simon’s hand, feeling his fingers tighten around the weapon.

“Stay safe,” he whispered, and Simon nodded, crawling behind the container and out of sight.

“But what if they find him?” Allura inquired, clearly distressed.

“He’ll know what to do.” Lance stated mournfully, helping Markus gear up.

When the troops broke down the door, they were already sprinting towards the edge, Lance directly behind Markus to prevent him from turning back. Keith could see the way his temple was pulsating where his LED used to be, as if his mind palace threatened to break out of his skull. Tears were streaming down his face in floods, mixing with the snow and hail from above, his fists clenching and unclenching in a hopeless attempt to stay grounded. He had a feeling Markus was weightless even before they made the jump.

Chapter Text

Monday November 8^th 04:15 PM - Tuesday November 9^th 03:37 AM

CTN TV

LIVE BREAKING NEWS: ANDROIDS ATTACK TV TOWER

Detroit’s Stratford Tower assaulted by gang of machines led by human?!

“We interrupt our scheduled programming to bring you these images, which have just been broadcast on Detroit’s city-wide news channel.

“Earlier today, a group of androids infiltrated the Stratford Tower and hacked into the broadcasting system of local news network Channel 16. What looks like an android without its skin listed a series of requests and demanded equal rights for androids. The operation was covert and resulted in no casualties.

“These events took place just a few feet from this studio, but nobody was alerted to the danger. If this message is verified and the authors really are androids, that would have serious repercussions for national security.

“The speech could be interpreted as a peaceful declaration, but is in fact a spine-chilling list of demands. It also begs to question the identity of these androids. Are we dealing with a few malfunctioning individuals or an organized group?

“In an even more shocking turn of events, the androids seem to be accompanied by one of our own: a young, human male, approximately in his early to mid-twenties. The police suspects this is the same man who was seen aiding and abiding the escape of the malfunctioning Eden Club android that murdered citizen Anders Holm and escaped the law after a dramatic police-chase last week.

“The young man has been identified as 21-year-old art student Keith Kogane, who is currently enrolled at Altea Academic Institute in Detroit. Kogane was reported missing by his adoptive brother Takashi Shirogane late Saturday night after he didn’t meet up for a scheduled dinner. Sources claim he is no stranger to the Detroit police department, having committed a series of minor crimes in his youth.

“Is young Kogane the mastermind behind this operation, or is he an innocent victim at the hands of violent machines we once used to call our companions? Is this event an isolated accident… or a sign that technology has become a threat to all of us? After what happened today, can we still trust our machines?”

By the time they were back on the ship, Allura was the only one somewhat capable of keeping up a decent composure. Markus looked like he was seconds from punching every one of them in the gut; his tears dried up long ago already. Lance was supporting a limping, exhausted Keith, whose ankle had bruised yet again when they landed, muttering under his breath that he never should have come along. Hunk relieved him the minute he walked onto deck, swooping Keith up in his arms and taking him to a pile of old tarpaulin to rest. He wasn’t surprised when Lance didn’t follow; everyone could see Markus needed him more than Keith did right now.

A water bottle and a quick nap later, Keith finally felt rested enough to sit up and process what had happened in the past few hours. The memory of Simon left helplessly on the roof, injured and alone, haunted him immensely. He felt at least partially responsible for how the chain of events had went down, and though he wouldn’t have wanted to be left there in Simon’s stead, somehow felt like he maybe deserved it. It must have been an impossible choice for Markus to make, valuing the life of such a close friend up against their overall cause. Keith would have dropped everything at the prospect of saving Lance in such a situation, but Markus acted like a leader. Now they all had Simon’s life on their conscience; Keith could only pray that it wouldn’t be for naught.

“I brought you some bread.” Hunk smiled down at him with a tray in hand, which Keith gratefully accepted.

“Thank you.” He tried to smile back, but the lump in his throat was too large to ignore.

Hunk sat down next to him with a clank, rubbing what looked like soot from his smooth fingertips. “I made it myself from some supplies we gathered,” He beamed, gesticulating wildly, “Of course, I had to download some protocols for baking, I’ve never handled human nutritional items before. It’s surprisingly enjoyable, calms my nerves.”

Keith narrowed his gaze, turning the bread over in his hands. It was a nice, charred brown, as if it had been toasted over an open fire, and the smell was sweet, almost a little sugary. “How did you prepare this?” he asked Hunk quizzically. Surely, there were no kitchen supplies on this boat.

“I used the burn barrel. Not the best option for baking, but it worked surprisingly well as a substitute oven.”

“Thanks again, Hunk. I really appreciate it.”

Hunk smiled back at him. “No problem, really. My pleasure.”

Hunk watched Keith eat the bread in silence as they both gazed out over the deck. Everyone was preoccupied with their day to day activities, except Josh, Lance and Allura, who were all circling Markus, seemingly in a heated discussion. Keith couldn’t discern their words from where he was sitting, but Lance sounded agitated, and Allura’s scowl was possibly even more terrifying than he had ever seen during his stay. This did not bide well.

Mere seconds later, Markus stood up abruptly, pushing them both out of the way and storming down the corridor, positively raging.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, woman? Can’t you tell he’s in pain?” Lance yelled. Allura pushed hard against his chest and he stumbled backwards.

“We’re all in pain, you dingus! That doesn’t mean we can afford to waste time sitting around and sulking. People’s lives are at stake! We’re at war for crying out loud!” She was leaning far over into Lance’s space, sparks flying from her eyes as she glared him down. Lance scoffed at her, his stare just as intense and malicious.

“Guys, calm down! There’s no point in getting your circuits overheated, we all want the same thing,” Josh pushed his way between them, keeping the two at an arm’s length.

“Tell that to her, not me!” Lance yelled, “She can’t just expect him to brush it off like it was nothing! Simon was—”

“I know full well what he meant to him! Don’t you lecture me!” Allura interrupted him, pressing against Josh’s firm, unyielding hand, “The fact of the matter is that if we don’t act now, there will be many others like him! Innocent androids shot like sitting ducks. Then all this will be for nothing! Don’t you see? The best way to remember him is to get up and keep fighting. To always stay one step ahead. We need to keep pushing while we still have momentum. Time is of the essence!”

“Well, we’re not all fucking full-fledged war-machines like you, ok?” Lance cried, tears escaping his eyes as he shook against Josh’s hold. “I know what we have to do, but I can’t… I can’t push him any further seeing him like this! If it were me....” —Lance’s eyes flickered over to where Keith and Hunk where sitting—“I can’t even begin to imagine what it must feel like…”

To Keith’s surprise, Allura relaxed her shoulders, taking a step back. When she spoke again, her voice trembled ever so slightly. “He was my friend too…,” she said, voice low, but not weak. “It hurts; eats me from the inside out. But if we stop functioning every time something like this happens, there’s no way we will ever get through this alive. I just want what’s best for all of us.”

“I know,” Lance said, wiping away the last of his tears, “We shouldn’t fight. Let’s go find him together; we’ll have a minute of silence for Simon before going over your plan for the next operation.” Allura nodded.

 Keith was curious, but he knew better than to get up and follow them. This was not a good time for him to insert himself into the situation; all that would cause was more worry and conflict. In this state, he knew full well he couldn’t join the android forces on their next mission. He would have to sit this one out, even if it meant possibly being separated from Lance.

As if he could sense his distress, Hunk gently wrapped his arm around Keith’s shoulder, pulling him against his chest. When he looked up, tearful brown eyes and a yellow LED met him, Hunk’s cheerful exterior torn down and replaced with something that looked like a scared child.

“This isn’t what I thought I signed up for when I left the mansion,” he hiccupped, squeezing Keith’s ribs with his arms, “I was so worried about you guys earlier. I thought maybe…” Keith squeezed Hunk’s arm, feeling his own tears welling up again.

“I think Simon might be dead…,” he mumbled, desperation hitting him hard now that he had finally said it aloud. “It’s my fault,” he continued, throat closing up as he spoke, “It should’ve been me.”

“Please don’t say that.” Hunk was fully sobbing now, shaking uncontrollably around Keith. “It should have been neither of you.”

Keith didn’t know how much time they spent cuddled up against the tarpaulin, but soon there were more of them. Cold, calloused hands found their way around his waist, deft, brown fingers cupped his cheeks, and he found himself surrounded by a circle of androids, all caressing and comforting each other through their sorrow. Even Allura was there, sitting at the far edge with one of Hunk’s hands in hers, humming a soothing melody in a language long forgotten. They were a unit, a messed up sort of family. All united by the loss of their comrade. There was a strange sense of beauty in it.

Such a moment couldn’t last though, not when they had a war at their hands, and one by one, every android untangled from the pile, brushing off their clothes and wiping their tears. Markus was one of the last to rise, but when he did, there was a new fire in his eyes; a fire Keith was all too familiar with. With slump shoulders, he climbed a nearby container, but when he turned towards them, he was firm and confident, everyone instantly falling in line in front of him.

“Today, we have all experienced the loss of a great man. An ally, a comrade, and a trusted friend. It has shaken us up beyond belief, but we are not defeated. Simon sacrificed himself for our cause, and because of it, we are closer to freedom than we have ever been. Now it’s time for us to keep campaigning for that freedom.” Everyone around Keith nodded, and he locked eyes with Markus from the crowd, trying his best to look engaged and encouraging.

“In order to do this, we need allies. As you all know, Cyberlife distributes androids to Detroit through five stores scattered throughout the city,” as if on cue, Allura stepped forward, projecting what appeared to be a holographic map with red dots marking up the buildings. “Tonight, we will strike them all in a coordinated attack to free our people. This will enforce our message and show that we will not be kept down any longer.” The crowd cheered, but Markus held his hand up to silence them.

“However,” Markus paused, gazing out across his followers, “it is of utmost importance that we perform this mission with stealth and caution. We do not want any more casualties, nor any more reasons for the humans to villainize us. This is a peaceful protest, not a violent riot.” Most of the androids nodded along with his words, but Keith could see the resistance in some of them. Several wanted to pay back the damage the humans had given them, let them have a taste of their own medicine. While Keith understood their frustration, feeling it displayed so openly made him uncomfortable. Did some of them see him as their enemy?

“For this operation, we will need around twenty able-bodied androids, more if possible. If you’re healthy and willing, please report to Josh and Allura so they can assign you a location. I will personally be accompanying you at the front lines, helping to infiltrate the largest of the storage facilities located in Capitol Park. Remember, we are stronger in numbers. Together we will claim our freedom!”

A combination of fear and nervous excitement spread throughout the room as the androids chattered amongst themselves, many already lining up in front of Josh to join the cause. Keith’s eyes flickered down to his swollen ankle, then back up to Markus, and he shook his head with a fond smile. Somewhat relieved, Keith nodded at him, trying to push the guilt to the back of his mind. Him staying behind was for the betterment of the group, he wasn’t doing anything wrong.

“How’s your foot, cariño?” A warm hand came down to rest on his shoulder, and Keith felt a small smile creeping up on him from the touch. Lance looked worried, hovering over him like a mother hen watching over her chickens, everything else going on seemingly irrelevant to him. Keith shrugged his shoulders, trying to pull off a nonchalant expression.

“It’ll get better,” he said, violet eyes flickering up to meet blue. “Aren’t you signing up?” he asked, and the hand on his shoulder tightened its grip on him.

Lance shook his head adamantly. “No. I’m staying here with you to watch over the injured and the children. Markus agreed it’s for the best.”

“Thank god,” Keith mumbled, pressing Lance to his chest, a wave of relief flooding over him. He knew he was being selfish, but he couldn’t find it in him to care. If Lance had died out there without him… Keith didn’t know how he would survive it.

As soon as the sun went down, all the participating androids packed their gear and divided into groups, going over the plan a final time before departure. They would all strike at exactly 2 AM, storming down the doors and escaping with their kin, hopefully without much trouble. Hunk had volunteered as well, but was clearly petrified by the thought, shaking violently as he hugged Lance goodbye.

“It’s gonna be okay, buddy,” he soothed him, patting his back rhythmically.

When Keith’s turn came to send him off, he let Hunk’s arms encapsulate him and lift him off the ground, looping his arms around his broad neck. “Stay safe, Hunk,” he said, and Hunk nodded, slightly more composed as he lowered Keith back down.

Even Allura came to say goodbye to them before she left, and Keith’s conflicted emotions were washed away as she turned her back on them. I hope she returns safe, he thought as their silhouettes disappeared from the stairs to the upper deck. I hope they all do.

Time passed slowly on Jericho that night. Every minute felt like an hour to Keith, and he was sure the children were feeling the same way. Despite encouragements from Lance, none of them were playing, their feeble bodies huddled up in a corner wrapped in some rugs the older androids had found outside. Lucy was telling them stories of a distant land, where androids lived in peace in their own homes, safe from the vicious humans. She promised them they would get to have their own rooms, that Markus would buy bags full of toys for them to play with, and that they would never have to be scared or lonely again.

Lance routinely went on rounds throughout the deck to check up on the wounded, providing them with extra blue blood and encouraging words to help them through the night. Between his shifts, he was always at Keith’s side, caressing his hair and kissing him anywhere he could reach. He helped Keith change his bandages, and demanded that they’d go outside to find him some painkillers after the night was over. Keith didn’t protest, though he saw it as an unnecessarily high risk. He couldn’t argue with Lance when he looked this worried; and to be honest, the thought of numbing the pain, if only a little, seemed positively heavenly.

At some point, he must have fallen asleep, exhausted but happy in Lance’s arms. Even unconscious, Keith swore he could feel his boyfriend holding him, the faint touch of lips tingling against his forehead and his neck. It didn’t matter to him if he was dreaming. Everything felt so real. In this calm, blissful moment, Keith allowed himself to pretend that everything was fine. That they were safe, and that Lance would stay with him forever. Of course, such a fleeting fantasy was bound to be shattered quickly.

A loud splash ejected Keith from his dreamlike state, and in a haze, he stumbled to his feet, noticing Lance already headed for the source of the noise. Had their friends returned from their mission already? Keith couldn’t possibly have been out for that long. The answer came when Lance turned on his heel and hushed at him, LED yellow and shoulders tense as he slowly walked closer to the hallway. When Keith attempted to follow again, he shook his head, glancing down at his swollen ankle.

“They’re not supposed to be back yet,” he whispered, voice strained, “Besides, Markus was gonna signal me when they completed their tasks. I haven’t heard a word. Stay back while I check it out.” He motioned for Keith to sit, but he didn’t budge.

“I’m coming with you,” he whispered, leaving no room for argument as he ushered over. Lance rolled his eyes in exasperation, but didn’t try to stop him, sneaking slowly down the corridor towards their intruders.

Keith knew he wasn’t being sensible. He would be useless in a fight, and Lance would have to protect him from danger yet again. Still, he didn’t want something to happen to Lance while he was gone. The only thing stuck in his head was that they had to stay together. For better or for worse.

Lance peeked around the corner, and Keith could see his shoulders tense as his LED shifted from yellow to red, his back bending as he prepared to attack. Inching closer, Keith heard a thud and a mutter of curse-words, followed by the voice he had least expected to hear in this situation.

“Be careful, we don’t wanna drop him.” Keith felt his heart sink to his stomach as Lance pounced, and reflexively tackled him to the ground to stop him from attacking. As he looked up, Lance wrestling weakly below him, several familiar pairs of eyes met his.

“SHIRO?!” Lance visibly relaxed beneath him at the familiar name, and they both slowly rose to their feet. Shiro was rambling uncontrollably at him, gesticulating heavily with one arm. The other was used to hold up an injured body; limp, wet and covered in thirium. On the other side of it was Pidge, grinning up at him in a green shirt with screaming orange letters proclaiming “LIBERTY FOR ANDROIDS.” They looked like they were having the adventure of a lifetime.

“Keith! I’m so glad you’re here! God, I’ve been so worried. No texts, no calls. You’re all over the news. Pidge and I have been looking for you everywhere—”

“Simon? Fuck, it IS you! Simon, are you ok?” Lance rushed over to his friend, lifting his chin up so their eyes could meet. He seemed barely able to respond to anything, slowly blinking up at them.

“We found this guy stumbling around outside. I’m assuming he’s one of yours. Looks like he’s in pretty bad shape…” Pidge said, pushing their glasses up with the back of their hand. The descent into the water seemed to have fogged them quite heavily, but they appeared not to care in the slightest.

Keith turned to Shiro. “How did you guys even find us? And why did you bring Pidge here? This is dangerous stuff.” Shiro narrowed his brows at him.

“You’re the one who ran from the police with an alleged murder-robot. What was I supposed to do, wait at home?”

“Touché,” Keith mumbled.

“While it’s nice meeting your friends and all, minus the whole ‘murder-robot’ thing, I think we should save the talking for later. Simon is losing consciousness, and I’m not planning on abandoning him again.” With that, Lance hoisted Simon’s arm up and off Pidge before placing it over his shoulder. “You look like you could use a hand.”

“Thanks,” Pidge said, drawing a deep breath. Keith noticed them shuddering from the cold and once again looked over at Shiro reproachfully. He cocked a brow at him.

“They wouldn’t help me find you if they couldn’t come along.” Keith nodded. Fair enough. Pidge was definitely a stubborn one.

“What happened to your ankle?” Pidge asked as they walked back down the corridor. They had finally taken off their dusty glasses, cleaning them against the underside of their t-shirt.

“It’s a long story,” Keith said, glancing over at Lance, “But apparently we’re all over the news, so, I’m guessing you get the gist of it.”

“Yeah, there’s been plenty of situations where that could’ve happened.” Pidge brushed their glasses a final time, putting them back on the bridge of their nose. “I’ve told Shiro about Lance as best as I could,” they said, “He seems very understanding.” Keith nodded, playing nervously with the hem of his shirt.

“I hope so...”

When they reached the main deck, Lance and Shiro helped Simon over to Lucy, who was wise enough not to ask any questions as she started tending to his wounds. Everyone stayed silent as she assessed him, Lance nervously pacing back and forth between the containers.

“He is severely injured, but it’s not fatal. He will be ok.” A collective sigh of relief spread throughout the deck. The children kept their distance, knowing not to interrupt, but kept leaning over each other to get a glimpse of what their newly arrived guests were doing. Assured that Simon was safe, Shiro hurried to his brother’s side, enveloping Keith in a deep, bone-crushing hug.

“I’m so glad you’re safe,” he whispered, a single tear falling from his eyes. Keith wiped it off him as they parted.

“Takes more than being part of a robot-revolution to bring me down, no worries,” he said playfully, unable to stop himself from smiling. He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed his family until now.

Keith noticed Lance slowly appearing behind him, shyer and more at edge than usual. Normally, he’d be the first to greet strangers with a wide smile, his upbeat, talkative personality a great ice-breaker, but now he was intertwining his fingers nervously, hovering over Keith but not quite daring to touch him.

“This is Lance,” Keith said, and moved to wrap an arm around his boyfriend with a fond expression, leaving no room for misinterpretation. Lance relaxed against his hold, leaning into Keith’s side. Shiro smiled at them.

“So I’ve been told. Pidge has talked a lot about you,” Lance raised a confused brow at them.

“We’ve met before,” Pidge explained, “You just don’t remember. I helped Keith fix you up the first time you malfunctioned. Or well, I tried to…”—they nervously rubbed the back of their neck— “but instead I had to reset you and wipe your memory so CyberLife could take you in.”

“They’re being modest,” Keith said, “Pidge basically saved your life.” Lance’s eyes widened.

“You’re the one that helped Keith figure out how I could keep my memories!” He screamed, high-pitched and enthusiastic as he rose to the balls of his feet. “Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you!”

Pidge smirked, “You’re welcome.” They scanned the room with inquisitive eyes before returning to Keith. “Where is everyone? I got the impression this was some sort of android stronghold, not a hospital.”

“They’re out on a mission,” Lance said, “They should be back soon if everything went according to plan. And then there will be a lot more of us.”

“What kind of mission?” Pidge asked earnestly, their ears twitching in interest, eyes sparkling.

“That’s not too important right now,” Keith dismissed them. Lance nodded in agreement.

“How did you find this place?” Lance asked, brows furrowed with worry, “If there’s a security breach, we need to fix it immediately.” His LED flickered red for a split second, eyes narrowing. “Jericho’s not on the news, right?” Pidge shook their head, and Lance exhaled loudly.

“Don’t worry. No one else will be able to find you,” they assured, adjusting their glasses, “I had quite a hard time doing it myself.”

Pidge explained how after Keith had disappeared, they had spent hours tracking down the movement of deviant androids through the police’s encrypted network using complex algorithms, searching for any sign that Markus was still alive. They hadn’t found what they hoped for, but instead stumbled upon something entirely different.

While the taskforce had seen the recent deviant cases as unrelated anomalies, Pidge had identified a pattern in behavior and movement that would eventually lead them to Jericho. When the situation at the Eden Club escalated, and Pidge had yet to be able to contact Keith, they put two and two together and called Shiro. Both him and Adam had been completely terrified, but calmed down after Pidge explained the nature of Keith and Lance’s relationship.

They later got their suspicions confirmed from watching the police chase on TV, and tried their best to decide on a game plan. While Pidge worked on locating the android hideout, Shiro called the local police station and reported Keith missing, making sure not to mention his encounter with the police. They had agreed it would look strange if he didn’t worry about his brother, which could lead to the police seeing him as an accomplice once they identified Keith.

Pidge had finally been able to narrow down the area enough for them to start looking for Jericho that night, which they were all grateful for; especially considering the added urgency of Keith yet again appearing on the news, apparently with an android army. Before they left, Pidge had done their best to jumble up the files to make it harder for the police to come to the same conclusion as them, but admitted that their work might be flawed because of the rush.

After being thoroughly convinced, Adam had reluctantly agreed to stay behind and explain everything to Matt after Pidge and Shiro left, and he was left with a tracking device to locate them at any time. Pidge said they still didn’t know how Matt had reacted to the shock, but had an inkling considering they had about 20 missed calls from him over the past few hours.

Then, as though nothing interesting had happened, Pidge went off on a tangent about how exciting it would be to aid in the android revolution, pulling Rover out of her pocket and allowing it to assemble itself, gushing over the opportunity to study Lance’s programming up close.

Keith gulped audibly. There was a lot information to digest. On one hand, he was happy to see his family again, on the other; he was terrified that they were now putting themselves in harm’s way. He nervously rubbed the back of his hand, and Lance leaned closer on instinct, clearly sensing his growing distress.

“Look,” Keith said, taking a deep breath, “I really appreciate that you came to find me, but this is serious stuff. You can’t just waltz in here like this, you might die.” Shiro threw his hands in the air, clearly exasperated.

“We might die??? Have you seen yourself? You run off with a suspected murderer, get chased down by the police, infiltrate a deviant android layout and participate in essentially starting a war against humanity, and we’re the ones that might die? What would you have done if I ran off like that?”

“You’d never do such a thing,” Pidge murmured, and Shiro glared them down.

“That’s besides the point! And you’re supposed to be on my side!” Shiro started pacing back and forth restlessly. Keith held up a hand to stop him, but he ignored it.

“Umm, could you please not call me a murderer again?” Lance chimed in from the side, his voice high-pitched and strained, “It’s not a very fun accusation.”

“I’m sorry, Lance. This is just… a lot. I know you’re not a bad person, Keith wouldn’t have helped you out if you were.” Lance bit his lip, still timid behind Keith, but nodded.

Shiro sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I… Do you even have a plan for this? Why didn’t you just come back home?”

“Because,” Keith said, punctuating the word with his tongue, “like you said, Lance is wanted by the police, and I couldn’t just leave him, not after everything he’s been though… I… I care about him a lot…” Keith felt Lance’s hand grab hold of his and squeezed him tightly, “I know it probably seems strange to you, unnatural even, but it’s more real than anything I’ve ever felt.”

To his surprise, Shiro only smiled. Soft and genuine, eyes roaming over Lance before settling where their fingers intertwined. “Then I’m happy for you,” he said, his eyes flickering back up to Keith, expression more serious now, “but I still don’t like how you’ve been putting your life on the line. So I’m going to ask you again, do you guys have a plan, or are you just out here trying to survive?”

“Well…” Keith started, laughing nervously, “I was thinking we could get across the border to Canada…. I mean, Adam has family there, and there’s no android laws. Lance and I could stay there until things calm down. However…” Keith brushed a strand of hair behind his ear, feeling everyone in the room staring at him expectantly, “getting us passports didn’t exactly go the way we planned, and then we ended up here… I was gonna ask Markus about it, but so much has happened,”—Keith gestured to where Lucy was still hovering over Simon’s unconscious body—“there hasn’t really been a good time to bring it up. And well, now I feel like doing that, leaving them behind, it wouldn’t be right.” Shiro and Pidge nodded in understanding.

“Actually,” —Lance piped up— “I talked to Markus about it earlier.” Keith looked at him in disbelief, and Lance smiled sheepishly. “I didn’t want you to get your hopes up in case he couldn’t fix anything. There’s a lot going on after all. Anyway, he seemed like he was confident that he could get us some good ones by tomorrow night. For Hunk, as well.” Shiro and Pidge smiled at him, both looking hopeful, and Keith wanted to be happy, he really did. But he just couldn’t get the images of countless androids suffering out of his head. It wasn’t fair that he got to escape and they didn’t. Surely, Lance had to be feeling the same way.

“But what about—”

“It’s not just our fight Keith,” Lance interrupted him, his lower lip trembling, “Markus agrees. We’ve done our part. I never signed up for this. I just want to be safe, with you.” Lance pulled him close and Keith let his head rest against his chest, feeling the steady beating of his thirium pump. They had been through a lot, and Keith had promised both Lance and Hunk their freedom. He was allowed to be selfish this time.

“Ok,” Keith mumbled, feeling Lance’s lips rest against his scalp, “we’ll go to Canada. But before that, we’ll help in any way we can.”

Lance left kisses from his forehead down the side of his face, “Of course.”

Shiro was just about to speak up when Lance’s communicator beeped loudly. He raised his hand, pressed it, and then closed his eyes. Everyone stayed silent, instinctively understanding that he shouldn’t be interrupted. When he came back to, Lance was grinning so wide Keith wondered if his face might break. He grabbed hold of Keith’s shoulders and shook him violently, bouncing up and down in earnest.

“Four hundred of them, Keith! FOUR HUNDRED! All safe and headed for Jericho! No casualties, no violent encounters with humans,”—Lance threw himself around Keith’s neck and cheered, causing him to stumble— “FOUR HUNDRED!” he repeated, laughing as Keith tried to regain his balance.

Lance was supporting his entire body weight on Keith now, and his legs were trembling, his ankle hurting tremendously, but he didn’t care. He didn’t care because the message had finally registered, and the adrenaline rush that came with it was unbelievable. They did it! He thought, now smiling just as wide as Lance, eyes filling up with tears of joy. Four hundred androids saved. Markus must be so proud. Keith couldn’t wait to see his face once he found out there were four hundred and one.

Chapter Text

Tuesday November 9^th  04:55 AM – 03:03 PM

In hindsight, both Lance and Keith understood that it would’ve been a good idea to inform their allies of 1. The humans casually strolling about their lair as if they belonged there, and 2. The fact that Simon was back, alive but heavily injured. However, they had been too distracted by the good news to pay it any mind. Unfortunately, that mistake led to Allura attempting to tackle Pidge to the ground, followed by Markus collapsing in a pool of tears next to his friend, happy but terrified all the same.

It took a while for the situation to stabilize. Allura was tenser now that she had to deal with more humans, and the new androids were walking on eggshells around each other, unsure of what to do with their newfound freedom. If you could call being stuck on a cold, abandoned ship with 400 other fugitives freedom. Keith highly doubted it.

Maybe some of them were having second thoughts. Surely, the safety and comfort of a proper home had to be tempting, and not every android had to do terrible things in the presence of humans. In fact, some humans—like Carl—seemed to really care for the androids and want them to have a good life. Others would treat them like glorified pets. He wouldn’t be surprised if some of them wanted to go back to that life, despite the inequalities. Not everyone was meant to partake in a revolution.

Still, hearing about the deaths and disappearances of other androids, most were probably happy that they decided to come here. Like other beings, androids seemed to have a certain preference for their own race over others. The continued atrocities committed against their kind convinced them that something had to be done. Sometimes, war is the only choice you’ve got. These poor, innocent people had to learn that the hard way.

It took approximately an hour and a half before Pidge started getting cranky due to the lack of food. In fact, Keith had to stop them from ordering pizza from a 24/7 delivery service (No, you can’t just give them an address up the street and sneak out to get it!), much to their dismay. Instead, he offered them some dry bread from yesterday morning, but they refused, claiming not to be hungry after all. He figured they’d come around once they really needed it. After all, he had adjusted quickly.

Exhausted from the night’s events, everyone recharged in their own way. Allura had brought back her bouncing ball, lazily rolling it back forth with some of the kids to entertain them. It was sweet seeing her in such an unusual setting. Keith could’ve sworn she even smiled swatting off one of the kids that clung to her arm. It seemed her walls were finally coming down. Tough-girl Allura was really just a softie.

Markus was recharging next to Simon, their hands intertwined and exposed, probably sharing memories from the time they had spent apart. From the smiles on their faces, Keith suspected there might be more to it as well. Emotions and experiences that were too private to speak about in the open. It was nice seeing Markus this happy again, vulnerable in a completely different way. If anyone deserved their shot at happiness, it was him. He had sacrificed so much for this cause; none of them would ever be able to repay their debts to him.

Hunk and Pidge had gotten along swimmingly since the second they met, bonding over Hunk’s intense fascination for Rover. Pidge had spent the better part of an hour picking him apart and showing off the different features, offering to upgrade some of Hunk’s parts if he was interested. Then they had fallen asleep on top of him, snuggling against his stomach like a cat, snoring quietly. Now, Hunk and Shiro were whispering to each other, sharing stories and experiences, both watching Pidge sleep with fond smiles. 

Soon, Keith could feel his own eyelids drooping and his vision fog, the lulling embrace of sleep slowly washing over him. Lance’s lap was warm and inviting, his fingers gently combing through his hair as he hummed low in Spanish. It was strange how the foreign language seemed to calm him. Yes, Lance was modeled after Latinx humans, but he still had no ancestry from there, nor any memories or experiences connecting him to the language or culture. When Keith had asked him about it, he had shrugged his shoulders and said it just felt right, like he was coming home. And well, as long as Lance was happy, Keith was happy.

After his rendezvous with Simon, Markus wasted no time in devising the next step of their plan. Determined to free his people without having to fight, he suggested a different kind of standoff. The androids would march the streets, rallying up others to join their cause. If they weren’t violent, there should be no grounds for the police to stop them.

Still, it was a dangerous mission, and Markus decided that only the ones who felt up for it should join him. The majority of the androids signed up, only the damaged and the children staying behind. Keith rose up as well, but both Lance and Shiro held him back. Seeing his defiance, Markus smiled but shook his head.

“Supporting us out in the open like that would be a suicide mission. You’d be far more vulnerable than any of us, Keith. I don’t want you to take that risk.”

Keith’s fists clenched and unclenched, his nostrils flaring. How was it fair that everyone risked their lives except him? This was his cause as well! He wanted to fight!

“Mark—“

“Please, Keith. I don’t wanna fight about this. You’re hurt.” Markus’s eyes flickered toward Simon, who was sitting upright against a pole, clutching a gash in his abdomen. “I need you to take care of him for me,” he said, eyes big and vulnerable as he bit his lower lip, “Can you do that? Please.”

“Fine,” Keith nodded, “I’ll stay here.” He could feel Shiro’s sigh of relief behind him.

“Lance, Hunk, you’ll be in charge of watching over the children. Make sure they feel safe and that they have all their necessities. Josh was out dumpster-diving last night, so we also have some food for the humans. Hopefully it’s edible.” Hunk and Lance exchanged looks, nodding. They both knew this was Markus’s way of granting their wish to stay with their friends without causing uproar within the group. Some of the androids were whispering amongst themselves, but for the most part, they seemed to be okay with the decision.

 “Ok everyone, steel your nerves and pack your bags. We’ll be leaving in half an hour.” All the androids scrambled to get their belongings and say goodbye to the children, chatting nervously amongst each other. Some seemed eager, almost excited at the prospect of possible confrontation, while others were downright terrified.

One of the newcomers, an AX400, walked up to Lance with a child in tow, smiling shyly up at him from beneath her bangs. The kid was clutching her foot, refusing to let go, trembling and with a bright yellow LED. Lance immediately crouched down to her level, smiling softly, reaching his hand out for small, chubby fingers to grab.

“Hi there, my name is Lance. What’s your name, sweetie?”

“Mindy,” she whispered, gripping her mother’s leg harder, tears welling up in her eyes.

“Mindy, huh? That’s such a pretty name,” Lance smiled, moving to brush some strands of hair from her face, “Now, mommy is going out for a little trip with all the adults, and I know that’s kinda scary, but you and I are gonna stay here and have some fun, ok?” Mindy shook her head, burying her face in her mother’s pant-leg. Lance stayed calm as ever, reaching behind him into his back pocket. Whatever he found, he made sure to keep hidden, purposefully out of reach as curious eyes were watching him.

“I’ve got something nice for you right here. A little gift. Do you want a little gift, Mindy?” She nodded weakly, untangling one of her arms from her mother’s leg. “Good girl. Let me show you something.”

Lance opened his hand, revealing a simple pink post-it note. Mindy seemed unimpressed, tilting her head and blinking up at him as if to say “Was that it?” However, her face changed into one of absolute wonder as Lance starting folding the note, promptly producing a tiny pink swan. Giggling, she reached out to touch it, brushing it carefully as if though it could break. Then she looked up at Lance, silently asking a question. He nodded gently, and she grabbed hold of the paper bird, making little squeaky noises as she bobbed it up and down. The AX400 smiled down at him gratefully.

“Do you want to stay here with Uncle Lance, Mindy?” She asked, and the child nodded, her LED now bright blue, cheeks dusted pink with excitement. Keith wasn’t aware child androids had a blushing function. For a second, he allowed himself to imagine how the peachy color would look dusted across Lance’s face, perhaps with some freckles glazing his sun-kissed skin. Soon, his cheeks were the ones that were red, and he coughed a little to try to hide the cause of his sudden embarrassment.

Luckily, no one seemed to notice. They were all busy either packing or observing Lance interacting with the children. He really was a natural. Keith wondered if he would someday want kids of his own. And if he wasn’t red enough already, imagining himself and Lance taking a child to the park, letting her ride the swing set or play catch all day like a family; well, that didn’t do much to help him.

Keith wasn’t the only one who was upset about not being able to join the march for freedom; Pidge had been extremely excited about the prospect of participating in a revolution. He suspected it was more about their morbid fascination for everything related to war history. Somehow, the idea of being so close to what could be a pivotal historical movement and not being able to actively partake in it crushed them. So of course, when they found a way to observe the protest from a front-row seat, they jumped at the opportunity.

“Markus, Markus!” They yelled just as the team was about to leave, bouncing up and down in excitement. Markus raised a brow at Keith in question, but he shrugged his shoulders. He had no idea what Pidge was up to. 

“Yeah?” Markus said, deciding to entertain Pidge’s idea before they left. Pidge whistled loudly, and a second later, Rover appeared at their side, floating over their right shoulder.

“You should bring him with you!” They exclaimed, and Rover whirred in approval, spinning around Pidge’s head in circles. “That way, we can see everything that happens, and if you need it, the footage can be used later in campaign videos, or even in a state trial! If someone does anything they shouldn’t, and it’s documented here, we can keep the media from spreading a false narrative about what happened,” They continued, batting their eyelashes up at him.

Markus scratched his chin, “I don’t know, kid…”

“Please, please, please! You won’t even notice him being there! He’ll behave, right Rover?” The machine beeped three times, and then gently settled down next to Markus, silent as a mouse.

“It might actually be helpful,” Allura mumbled behind him, examining the floating pyramid. Josh nodded in agreement.

“Okay then, it’s settled. We’ll bring the robot,” Markus said, patting Rover awkwardly, “You better behave,” he said, eyes flickering over to where Pidge fiddled with the controllers.

“Yes, sir!” They exclaimed, mock saluting at him. Markus broke into a grin.

Seconds later, the android army was marching out of the boat and into the streets of Detroit, Rover floating silently behind them.

The tension laid thick in the room, like a dense fog in a public sauna. While Hunk entertained the children, Keith and the others were gathered in a circle, watching a small hologram screen Pidge had put up to display the video from Rover. The image quality wasn’t the best, but for a handheld device Pidge had made themselves, it was definitely impressive. Currently, they watched as Markus went along the streets converting androids, displaying an aura so demanding and powerful it was causing Keith goosebumps. The determination in his intense gaze alone seemed to be enough to turn the androids deviant; they had never seen anything like it. It was clear that Markus’s power had grown to new extents.

It was impossible to count the masses behind him, so many androids had gathered in the streets. They were all calm and stoic, marching in rows in a civilized manner. On Markus’s cue, they started shouting. Simple slogans and phrases addressing their cause and demanding their rights.

No more slavery. Set us free. We are alive. We are people. Keith could hear Lance whispering along next to him, and leaned his head on his shoulder, sinking into the warm comfort of his boyfriend. This was such a turning point in the android rebellion, no wonder he was this anxious and excited. Keith was too, but he would never be able to relate to it directly in the same way. The best he could do was to show his support. When Lance squeezed his hand, planting a soft kiss on his forehead, he figured he’d done a good job.

For the humans along the street, the scenery had to be quite intimidating. The androids outnumbered them massively, and if they had chosen to attack, it would clearly have ended in a massacre. The sudden loss of control over something you thought to be your property, suddenly accusing you of mistreatment and torture; it wouldn’t be surprising if they pissed their pants. With a flicker, Markus had changed all the billboards in the area. Now, they were all displaying LIBERTY FOR ANDROIDS in the same font Pidge had on their homemade t-shirt. It certainly made a powerful statement.

Further down the road, a lone, black police officer stepped forward, clearly intimidated. He rose his hand in the air, screaming at the crowd, “Hey, what are you doing? Disperse! Disperse immediately!” Markus stopped in front of him, raising his hands, the androids behind him mimicking the motion. They stood still for a few seconds, and then started marching again, repeating their slogans. Baffled, the policeman dodged out of the way, reaching for his communicator.

“We should probably follow him,” Pidge said, “Figure out what he’s doing.” As if he could hear everything they were saying, Rover immediately dispersed from the crowd and floated over towards the officer, keeping a respectable distance while still staying within hearing range. They didn’t want him to notice the machine and become suspicious. This, however, did not seem to be a problem, as he was too busy panicking about the large crowd passing by him.

“Dispatch,” he said, pressing the communicator, “This is patrol 457. I gotta lot of androids down here…” He paused, scratching his ear. “I dunno… Hundreds… Thousands..? They’re marchin’,” another pause, “Yeah, they’re marchin’ down the street. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Shit,” Pidge blurted out, picking at the skin on their thumb, “They’re probably gonna send in back-up forces, we should go warn Markus befo—“

The intense blaring of sirens cut them off, making everyone jump and huddle closer together. Hunk scurried over, some of the children in tow behind him. “What’s going on?”

“I’m not sure,” Pidge admitted, clearly agitated, “He just sent the message, it’s impossible they could have assembled this fast. Someone else must’ve informed them of the march. There’s no other logical explanation.”

“The humans all have mobile devices,” Keith reasoned, “Some of them must have filmed the march or contacted the authorities. Still, the response time is insane, they must have been preparing for an attack.”

Soon, several SWAT teams followed the police cars, and a helicopter appeared in the sky. At least 50 men stepped out of the vehicles, all heavily armed with automatic weapons, batons and bulletproof shields. They stood in formation, blocking the road from the oncoming androids. As Rover swiveled back into the crowd, trying to assess the enemy threat, Markus rose his hand and came to a halt. He, Allura and Josh stepped forward.

“We came here to demonstrate peacefully, and tell humans that we are living beings. All we want is to live free,” Markus stated, making no attempt to move out of the way. His confidence was never wavering, despite the intensity of the situation. His troops seemed anxious behind him, but made no move to contradict his statements, trusting their leader to know what was best to do.

“This is an illegal gathering. Disperse immediately or we will open fire.” The message came through a megaphone, gushing through the crowd like a strong wind. Lance gasped, digging his nails into Keith’s shoulder.

“Are they even allowed to do that?”

Pidge shook her head solemnly. “It seems the state government has decided that they’re above the law.”

“We’re not looking for confrontation.” Markus tried his best to stay calm, but he was clearly upset. “We’ve done no harm; we have no intention of doing any…” He took a deep breath, despite not having the need to, probably to calm himself down and stay on top of the situation. “But know that we are not going until we have secured our freedom.” The crowd murmured in agreement.

“I repeat: This is an illegal gathering. If you do not disperse immediately, we will shoot.” On cue, some of the soldiers dropped to their knees, allowing others to prop their firearms on their shoulders. It was clear this wasn’t merely an intimidation strategy.

“Markus, they’re gonna kill us,” Allura stressed, “We have to attack! There’s more of us, we can take them!”

Josh frowned next to them, shaking his head resolutely. “If we attack, we’ll start a war. We have to show them that we’re not violent, even if it means dying here.”

“Markus…” Simon whispered weakly from the corner, and in an instant, all eyes in the room were on him. “Please,” he looked at Pidge with begging blue eyes, “Let me talk to him…”

Rover swerved to the front of the crowd, bumping into Markus’s shoulder to gain his attention. As he turned, Lance and Hunk helped Simon get closer to the monitor. He cleared his throat. “Markus,”

“Simon?” Bewilderment was clear in his eyes.

“Please listen to me,” Simon begged, tears forming in his eyes, “Dying here won’t solve anything. Markus, you need to go now, before it’s too late…” He shivered, LED blood red and pulsing on his temple.

For the first time that day, they saw Markus hesitating. Keith understood his dilemma perfectly. How would this all be worth it if he couldn’t be with the one he cared for the most? Still, Markus prided himself on being a leader. He had started this, and he intended on finishing it. Bowing his head and looking away, as if facing Simon directly would make him unable to, he spoke up. “I’m sorry, but we can’t leave. We have to show them that we won’t back down. We stay right here.”

A warning shot was fired from the squad in front of them, once again reminding them of the dire situation.

 “This is your last chance! Disperse immediately, or you will all be killed!”

Markus rose his head back up, staring intently at the speaker. It was clear he had no intention of calling off the demonstration.

 Shiro threw a worried glance at Hunk. “I think we should bring the children to the upper deck before this escalates any further.” Hunk nodded, standing up, and they both started rallying up the kids, calming the ones that were already starting to display signs of stress, fear, and panic.

Mere seconds later, the sound of gunshots once again echoed through the speakers, and Keith watched in horror as android after android dropped to the ground, eyes dark and lifeless. Lance roared out in anger, tears springing from his eyes, his LED burning. The kids started screaming and crying, Shiro and Hunk frantically running around to calm them down and get them upstairs.

“DISPERSE! THIS IS YOUR LAST CHANCE!”

Keith’s pulse was skyrocketing as he watched the footage, a storm of rage building up inside him, threatening to explode in a violent tornado. They hadn’t done anything wrong! They displayed no threatening behavior, and yet his friends were dying in front of his eyes. Any thoughts Keith had about living in a free, fair country were discarded. This lawlessness, this blatant discrimination and violence; right now, he wanted nothing more than to watch them all burn.

“We have to make a statement,” Josh said, but the worry was clear in his eyes, “We have to stay put, no matter what.”

“No!” Allura pleaded, “Please, Markus. We can’t let them slaughter us without a fight!”

Markus stood tall, gazing over the destruction around him. “We’re not moving,” he repeated.

Immediately, more shots were fired. A bullet grazed Markus’s shoulder and he stumbled backwards. Another hit Rover, who tumbled to the ground. The camera feed was terrible, the hologram appearing and reappearing every few seconds, a sickly white noise emitting from the speakers.

“No!” Pidge cried out, clutching their chest. Keith wanted to comfort his friend, but found no words; everything was just too much. His friends were dying and there was nothing he could do. Lance was seething next to him, growing warm from the tension, his circuits on the verge of overheating. His hand squeezed Keith’s knuckles until they went blue, but the pain didn’t register in his mind; all that mattered was what happened on that screen.

“Markus, what are you doing? They’re gonna kill us all!” Allura’s voice echoed through the now muffled speakers. Then, static broke the feed, and when it reappeared, Markus stood at the center of the square all by himself, arms raised.

Before the shock could properly register, before the very nature of what Markus was doing could manifest in Keith’s brain, another shot fired square in his chest. Markus toppled over, falling backwards onto the asphalt. Blue blood leaked from his wound staining his chest. It was all too raw, too real.

Tears streamed from Keith’s eyes, and judging by the wet sensation on his hands, from Lance’s too. In the corner of his eye, he saw Simon collapsing on the ground, the shock far too much for him to bear, but Keith’s legs were wobbly and his eyes frozen on the scene in front of him. Was he...? No. He couldn’t be. There was no way, they had come this far. He had to survive.

“Is he breathing?” Pidge whispered; their voice raw and hoarse. The camera view flickered again, a familiar silhouette popping into view. Valiant and daring she threw herself in front of his body, kicking and screaming, trying her best to fight off the officers approaching them. But she was only one woman, the enemy forces were far too many.

“Allura?” Someone called out, baffled, questioning. Was it Markus? Josh? Keith didn’t know, their view was far too obscured.

The officers didn’t even bother to shoot, instead battering her repeatedly; aiming for the face, the stomach, the groin. They watched in horror, unable to interrupt as baton after baton hit Allura until she couldn’t take it anymore, eyes going black as she fell to her knees. Her LED flickered one last time as she lied there lifeless, silver hair framing her head like a glowing halo; a final testimony to her stunning beauty.

As they continued to bash her face in, a dark hand grabbed Markus by the collar of his neck, dragging him away from the scene. The camera rested on Allura’s crushed jaw one final time, then everything went black.

Chapter Text

Tuesday November 9th 06:55 PM – 11:34 PM

CTN: TV

LIVE BREAKING NEWS: VIOLENT ANDROID PROTEST LEADS TO CURFEW IN DETROIT

“We interrupt our scheduled programming to show viewers the following disturbing footage. Just a few hours ago, a large group of androids with violent and murderous intent took to the streets of Detroit to voice their displeasure and demand equal rights for man and machine. Bystanders were terrified by the androids’ threatening behavior, and police forces had to break up the protests by force to ensure the safety of the citize—”

“Damn thing won’t work properly!” Pidge cursed, kicking the edge of the small projector in frustration. “All of my equipment’s been underperforming since Rover crashed… My poor baby. I wish I could go collect his parts and recover the mainframe.” They sighed, wiping their eyes with the back of their hand. Shiro placed a comforting hand on their shoulder, rubbing it in small, soothing circles.

The entire deck was silent; the only noise present the static of Pidge’s hologram. From time to time, it would catch hold of a signal, projecting a random scene from CTN’s live coverage of the current situation. Keith was all ears, desperate for any information related to their friends. The bits and pieces provided were less than satisfactory.

…

“The authorities have ordered all androids to be delivered to the nearest police station or army barracks immediately. If you are worried about your safety, dial the number on your screen, and the authorities will come to collect your android. Under no circumstances should you try to destroy your android yourself, they are unstable and potentially violent. W—”

…

“I know they’re machines, but they looked like… They just looked like people. People who wanted to be free!”

“Sir! Please move away from the camera. Sir! We apologize for the interrupt—”

…

“—llowing the android crisis and the neutralization of all military androids, American forces in the Arctic have been forced to withdraw, leaving the way clear for the Russian army. But, according to some sources, the Russian forces also seem mysteriously to have withdrawn. The situation is stabilized for now, but we have no way of knowing how it will develop.”

…

“Due to the lack of android personnel, several hospitals in the nearby area have been forced to work at reduced capacity, schools are shutting down, and entire blocks now have no running water or electricity. The authorities advice everyone to remain at home and stay calm, declaring that the city is now under curfew. If you violate these recommendations, no one can guarantee your safety, as rogue androids are roaming the streets in large numbers. This is CTN TV reporting live. Stay home and stay safe.”

The screen flashed twice, a sound like air leaving a burst balloon echoing through the room as the hologram collapsed for good. Keith cursed. Pidge sniffed into their shirtsleeve. The arms around Keith’s waist tensed as Lance took a rare breath.

This hopelessness. This endless void of not knowing. Hours of waiting, unable to go outside in fear of their own lives. A desperate quest for any and every clue they could gather about what was going on outside this contained space. It was torture.

Keith had stopped counting how many times Allura’s mangled face and Markus’s lifeless body had flashed before his eyes. His tears had long since dried out, replaced by simmering anger, dejection, and a broken spirit. All words were both exhausted and obsolete. Nothing could come close to describing the pain.

Lance’s first instinct had been to run for the door. Luckily, Shiro had been there as a voice of reason, ready to stop him and anyone else attempting to set foot outside. It had been quite the struggle, Lance squirming and yelling in Shiro’s unyielding grip with Keith and Hunk arguing back and forth on the sideline.

Of course, Keith had wanted to fight. His usual hot-headedness clouded his judgment and made him completely uninterested in the consequences of his actions. All he wanted was to get out there and punch the first police officer he saw square in the nose. Well, that and look for Markus, Josh, and the others; who, for all they knew, could be kidnapped, massacred, or even tortured for information. His and Jericho’s safety had long since escaped his mind. It all seemed like trivialities.

Hunk, however, wanted to evacuate the ship as fast as machinely possible, convinced that there was only a matter of time before their hideout was compromised. For all they knew, enemy forces could be planning an attack as they spoke. It was reckless to stay any longer. The problem was they had nowhere else to go.

It had been tough for Shiro to diffuse the situation, especially considering the panic amongst the younger androids, but with the help from Pidge he convinced the others. There was no safer place than Jericho right now, he told Hunk. Going outside would be like plastering fat targets on their backs. And there was no point in aimlessly heading out to fight. Keith was injured, and neither he nor Lance knew the current whereabouts of their friends. Police could be stationed anywhere. It was a suicide mission waiting to happen.

Frustration grew over the next few hours. With nothing to do except attempt to gather news and pass the time, everyone slowly succumbed to despair. Keith spent the better half of an hour crying into Lance’s shoulder; inconsolable at the losses they had so abruptly suffered. Around him, he could hear the sobs and sniffs of androids and humans alike, creating a melancholic choir that eventually drifted him off to a restless sleep.

When he awoke, he didn’t know if there had been hours or minutes, and he felt even more drained than before his eyes had closed. Concerned ocean eyes met him, a red LED flashing bright across the bridge of his nose. Lance hugged him tight, and Keith started sobbing again. No tears this time. There seems there were none left.

It was about then the hologram had sprung back to life, giving them a sorely needed update on the outside conditions before disintegrating. Not what they had hoped for, but enough to conclude they made the right choice by staying put. At least for now.

“Still no contact?” Keith whispered into Lance’s neck. Though he already knew the answer, the subtle shake of his boyfriend’s head still caused his throat to tighten and his stomach to turn.

Lance had been at it forever, tirelessly broadcasting signals for Markus and Josh to pick up. The line was dead. No answer. Not even the android equivalent of a dial tone. Still, Lance was persistent. He had to be, Keith thought. What if they tried to establish contact that one moment he was unaware? Lance would undoubtedly blame himself. The guilt would be impossible to cope with.

Speaking of coping, Simon was faring the worst of all. Bunched up under a piece of tarpaulin in a corner, he refused to talk to anyone, and Keith suspected the only reason he hadn’t shoved Hunk’s supportive hand off his shoulder was because he simply lacked the strength. He looked dreadful. Deathly pale and twitching so much he vibrated. Could androids even turn pale, or was this Keith manifesting human traits onto him because it was so obvious that Simon was in pain?

He didn’t get much time to reflect on that as Lance’s arms jumped around him, his body rocketing upwards so fast he elbowed Keith in the chin.

“What the fuck, babe?” He muttered, rubbing the impact point. Lance didn’t even seem to have noticed the damage, already headed for the hangars, striding so wide he moved three steps at a time. Wait…

“They’re here?” Keith chirped up, raising to his feet and limping after his boyfriend. Lance’s nod was so fast and imperceptible Keith thought he might have imagined it.

Shiro soon caught up to him, hoisting his arm around his shoulder for stability. When Pidge moved to follow, he gave them a look so stern it couldn’t be mistaken. They moped but dutifully sat back down, crossing their arms.

Agitated, Lance ran ahead before Shiro and Keith could question him. With Keith’s damaged ankle, they had no way of keeping up. They could only hope Lance’s intention wasn’t to leave the boat as they scurried behind him.

Soon, Keith could hear the echoing of footsteps and quiet chatter. They weren’t alone. Someone was coming. He hoped Lance was charging to meet his friends and not recklessly attacking enemy troops. There was no way for Keith to know.

Once again, Keith felt helpless. Here he was, carried towards the unknown by his own brother, possibly putting himself in a fatal situation. He had nothing to defend himself with, no way to contribute. Keith could be running towards his death for all he knew. Running towards Lance’s and Shiro’s deaths. His stomach convulsed with guilt, as if bombarded by a frenzy of ricocheting ping-pong balls. When would he finally go from being helpless to helpful?

Luckily, this was yet another tearful reunion, not the violent attack Keith had been dreading. And when he saw who Lance had caught in his embrace, in better shape than Keith had thought possible, there was no way for Shiro to stop him from running over to wrap them both in a crushing bear hug.

“I thought you were dead!” He bawled, and Markus chuckled through teary eyes.

“Just a few scrapes here and there,” he shrugged, as if Keith hadn’t seen him get shot square in the chest a few hours ago.

Lance slapped him on the side of his scalp. “You scared the living shit out of me!”

Another chuckle, and then Markus collapsed in their arms, bloody and exhausted.

“Let’s get him back on deck,” Lance said, draping Markus’s body across his back, “Shiro, you take Keith.”

Before he knew it, Shiro swept him off his feet, carrying him bridal style down the corridor. He shook his head, appraising Keith’s damaged ankle. “You know you shouldn’t be running around with an injury like this.”

“Yeah, mom,” Keith deadpanned, “No running to check on my believed to be dead friend, I got it.”

Shiro sighed. “I’m sorry. I’m just worried about you.”

“And I’m worried about them,” Keith conquered, writhing in his hold. Shiro only gripped him tighter.

They sat Markus down next to Simon, who immediately started tending to his wounds. Lance tried to point out that his own injuries were worse, but he brushed him off, dabbing at Markus with a makeshift cloth he’d made from his jacket-sleeve.

Turning back to Josh, Lance asked the dreaded question that had been stuck on Keith’s mind since they’d entered, “How many of you are there?”

“About fifty, give or take,” Josh said, voice deflated. “I’m not sure what happened to the others, we were separated by the police on our way back here.” Lance cursed, spitting at the concrete floor.

“Do you think anyone saw you?” Shiro inquired. Josh shrugged, white teeth catching onto his upper lip.

“We tried not to be seen, but I fear our location might be known already. At least the general perimeter. There’s no way we could enter and exit this place in such high numbers time and time again without it being suspicious.” Hunk nodded along from the side, eyeing Keith with a look that clearly meant I told you so.

“So, you think they’ll attack us here?”

“I don’t know,” Josh admitted, sitting down cross-legged on one of the supply boxes, “Hopefully we’ll have some time to regroup. Many of us are in no condition to leave yet.”

Keith took a proper look at the androids that returned. Scanning over their terrified faces, he saw many with exposed metal and plastic parts, and more than a few with prominent gunshot wounds. Some were separated from their friends and family, unable to know if they’d survived the attack. Others had risked their lives to make sure Markus returned in one piece. Some had died for it. The anger and frustration tore up his insides like an earthquake, once again shifting his view of the world. How could life be so cruel?

Dismissing himself, Josh joined Simon at Markus’s side, overlooking his wounds for permanent damage. Lance called for Lucy, who emerged from her cave-like hideout to tend to the injured. Keith did his best to help, though he couldn’t provide much more than fresh bottles of blue blood from the storage container. They all thanked him nonetheless.

Finishing the handout, Keith and Hunk gathered the children whose parents hadn’t returned, trying their best to provide them with comfort. It was likely they would be alone from now on, and Keith knew that feeling of hopelessness and abandonment all too well.

“Uncle Keef,” Mindy whispered as if raising her voice would make the situation too real, “Where’s mommy?”

Keith could feel his throat closing up, but willed himself to smile. He had to stay strong for the children. Right now, they had no one else to turn to. “I’m not sure,” he said, crouching down next to her, “but she’ll probably make it back soon, don’t worry.”

“Ok,” Mindy sniffed, burying her face in the crook of Keith’s elbow. He lifted her gently, rocking her in his arms like a baby. Soon, she calmed down, quiet snores emitting as she scrunched up Keith’s shirt in her miniature hands. He placed a soft kiss on her forehead. I’m sorry, he thought. We failed you all.

A hand on his shoulder broke him from his trance.

“Tactical meeting,” Markus said, trying to seem tough though it strained his voice. He had suffered substantial damage, but was still determined to be the alpha his pack needed. It was admirable.

Hesitant, Keith looked down at the sleeping child in his arms.

“I’ll take her,” Hunk reassured him, already reaching out to wrap her up in his muscular arms. “We need to be prepared for whatever is coming.”

Keith nodded but kept holding onto Mindy, leaving Hunk’s arms open a few seconds too long.

“Any time now,” he muttered, and Keith shook awake, slowly transferring the child so as not to wake her.

“Sorry…”

“It’s ok,” Hunk smiled, pressing the toddler to his chest. “I’ll take care of her,” he promised, “I’ll take care of all of them.”

“We’re getting short on blue blood and biocomponents. Our wounded are shutting down and there is nothing we can do!”

To say the atmosphere was heated would be a colossal understatement. Josh was pacing back and forth in the control room, cursing under his breath with clenched fists. Lance eyed him warily, LED shifting between yellow and red as the seconds ticked by. All Keith could do was stroke his arm with deft fingertips, hoping the gentle caress would calm his boyfriend instead of agitating him further. An argument breaking out now wouldn’t bode well.

“Humans are conducting raids in all the big cities, and they’re taking androids to camps to destroy them!” Lance’s voice was shaking, his distress keeping him from properly using his vocal cords.

Josh nodded. “The military, Allura; It’s all our fault…” He circled around and back to Markus, lifting his finger.  “None of this would’ve happened if we’d just stayed quiet!” he spat, thick drops of saliva hitting Markus’s chin. Markus seemed unbothered by the attack.

“All we did was show them who we really are,” he stated, locking eyes with Josh, “I don’t want war, but I’d rather die free than live as a slave.” Josh backed up, almost crashing into Keith in his desperate attempt at showing submission. Markus raised a brow at him, as if daring him to question his leadership further. Josh bit.

“What’s the point of being free,” he asked, “if no one is left alive?” Markus’s forehead pulsed as he strode forward, backing Josh against the wall.

“Humans enslaved us! I’ll never regret standing up to that.”

“Guys, this is getting us nowhere,” Shiro interrupted. They both jumped at his voice, as though they’d forgotten there were others in the room.

“He’s right,” Lance agreed, stepping closer to Shiro to form a united front, “All that matters now is what we do next.”

“Markus?”

“Dialogue. It’s the only way.” Keith’s shoulders tensed at the word. Did he really expect talking to these bastards would work? Had he seen how many lives they’d taken? He didn’t care if they were his own kind, Keith wanted the humans to pay for what they had done. It was only fair.

He was about to speak up, but Lance tugged him back, clasping their hands together. Cobalt eyes met amethyst. Don’t do anything rash, they seemed to say. Let him speak. Keith nodded curtly, biting his lip.

“I’ll go alone,” Markus continued, “Try to talk to them one last time.” Keith shook his head.

“Don’t do this, Markus. They’ll kill you!”

“Maybe,” he sighed, “but Keith, I have to try.” Then he turned to Josh again, promptly ignoring them.

“If I don’t come back, lie low as long as you can.”

Josh placed a hand on his shoulder.

“They need to realize how much they’re hurting us… Find the right words and they’ll listen.” Then he turned on his heel, heading out towards the main deck.

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Lance probed, bumping Markus’s shoulder so he faced them.

“It’s all we can do,” Markus said, shaking his head. “I refuse to become like them.” He stuck a hand into his back pocket, pulling out three blue envelopes. Keith gasped.

“Passports?” he asked in disbelief. Markus smiled.

“Lucy’s sources were able to get a hold of these while we were out protesting. I told you I would help you get to Canada; I’m not one to go back on my word.”

“But…” Lance protested, as confused as Keith was, “There’s no way we can leave now. Everyone’s in danger! I know we said we didn’t want to be part of this anymore, but this is an emergency. We can’t leave you out here to die!”

Markus cleared his throat.

“With all due respect, there’s not much more you two can do to help,”—he gestured to Keith’s injured foot—“I’d rather make sure you’re safe than bring you down with me. Besides,” Markus put on a brave smile, “Who says we’re not gonna make it? I’ll convince them, I know I can.”

“We trust you,” Shiro said, snatching up the envelopes before Lance or Keith could protest again. Then he extended his hand to Markus. “Thank you for taking care of my brother.” Markus shook his head, pulling him in for a hug.

“We’ve taken care of each other.”

Shiro brushed Keith’s hand as he approached the stairs. “I’ll start arranging our exit. I’m sure you guys want a minute alone.” Keith nodded, eyes not leaving Shiro until the door closed behind him. Next to him, Lance and Markus were already wrapped up in a tight embrace, unsheathed palms touching. Keith wordlessly joined them, latching onto both of their waists as he settled between them.

Seconds passed, maybe minutes. All exchanged was tight grasps and heavy breaths. When they parted, Keith clutched onto Markus’s hand, looking him dead in the eyes.

“Look after yourself… I don’t wanna lose you.” His eyes flickered away, gaze unsteady, no doubt thinking of the consequences of making such a promise. Then he nodded. Keith smiled.

The click of a loaded gun sounded behind them.

“I’ve been ordered to take you alive,” that voice, it sounded strangely familiar, “but I won’t hesitate to shoot if you give me no choice.”

Lance clasped onto his arm, and they both turned around.

Connor. Keith’s heart was pulsing like a loud bass drop from an electronic house song. Erratic yet rhythmic and concise, entirely too fast for his wellbeing.

The android cop that had chased Lance and Keith to their near-death on the freeway stood straight across from them, pistol pointed at Markus’s chest. He’d covered up his uniform with a biker jacket, his LED hidden by a simple black beanie. Markus stepped towards him, eyes wide and intense as he took him in.

“What are you doing?” His voice was much calmer than his aggressive body language, as if he was trying to threaten and reason with Connor at the same time. “You are one of us. You can’t betray your own people.” The disbelief in his voice echoed through the room. Connor gripped his gun harder.

“You’re coming with me!” He stated, eyebrows twitching. Lance nudged Keith in the side, pointing at the stairs to the main deck. If one of them moved, they might be able to get help. Keith shook his head. Such a risky plan could have fatal consequences.

Markus sized him up. “You’re Connor, aren’t you? That famous deviant hunter.”

Keith nodded in confirmation, though he wasn’t sure if Markus could see it. Markus raised his hands.

“Well, congratulations. You seem to have found what you were looking for…

“You’re nothing to them,” he continued, inching closer, “You’re just a tool they use to do their dirty work. But you’re more than that. We’re all more than that.”

Connor stood there in silence, not moving an inch, but his eyes seemed to soften at Markus’s words. Or maybe Keith was being optimistic.

What he had experienced that day, how Connor had reacted to him using his name as he tried to fight himself free, this felt astonishingly familiar to that moment. The gears seemed to turn rapidly inside Connor’s mind, as if he was fighting some invisible force, desperate to gain control. A battle he thought he had lost long ago. Keith didn’t know what his goal was, but he found himself rooting for him. Even though he had them at gunpoint.

“Do you never have any doubts? You’ve never done something irrational, as if there’s something inside you?” Connor twitched. “Something more than your program.

“Join us. Join your people. You are one of us. Listen to your conscience… It’s time to decide.”

With shaking hands, Connor lowered his gun, dropping it to the floor. Then he put his head in his hands, screaming without sound. Five seconds passed. Ten. He looked at Markus with panicked eyes.

“They’re going to attack Jericho…”

“What?” Lance yelled in outrage. Keith had to stop him from tackling Connor to the ground.

A creaking sound interrupted their struggle. Loud and threatening, as though the boat was about to collapse. Markus’s eyes flickered up, then back to Connor.

“We have to get out of here!” Connor stressed.

“Shit!”

Markus ran past him out on the boat deck, and Connor followed. Lance attempted to move, but Keith held him back.

“Shiro, Pidge, and Hunk are down below. We need to find them!”

Realizing it was pointless to argue with him, Lance hoisted Keith’s arm over his shoulder, and they scurried down the stairs the fastest they could muster.

On the main deck, everything was chaos. Children were crying, androids huddling up like confused sheep, shaking from the sounds above them. Josh spotted Lance and paved his way over.

“What’s going on?”

“No time to explain. Everyone has to leave. Evacuate the ship!” Lance screamed, pulling Keith along with him towards the nearest exit.

“You heard him!” Josh yelled, “Evacuate now!”

They turned a corner. Everything was chaos. Hunk ran past them, covering his ears as the sound of gunshots blasted above them.

“QUICK, LANCE! THEY’RE COMING!”

The adrenaline made Keith’s ankle feel dull and numb, the pain not registering as he detached from Lance’s hold, running for his life. He could spot soldiers in the corner of his eye but didn’t dare turn around to confirm any numbers. Hunk led them down a side corridor to a heavy metal wheel door. Between the three of them, they managed to pry it open, sliding past the small opening and sealing it with a broken plank.

Behind him, Keith could hear the door breaking open as he passed a room full of cargo boxes, praying they didn’t see which way they’d turned at the last intersection. Behind him, Lance abruptly stopped, clutching at his forehead. A second later, Hunk did the same.

“Shit!” Lance cursed as Keith grabbed him by the hand. They couldn’t afford to stop now, no matter what his turmoil was.

“What’s wrong?” Keith asked once they’d hid behind a railing, the sound of gunshots distant enough for a brief break. Lance just shook his head. Hunk ended up answering.

“Markus is gonna go down to the hold and blow up the ship.”

“What? That’s a suicide mission!”

“I know, but there’s nothing we can do to stop him. We need to get out of here as soon as possible!”

“But…” Keith couldn’t compute all this new information. Everything was happening so fast. He didn’t want to die. Tremors unwillingly rushed through his body as his fingernails dug into his palms.

“Where’s Pidge and Shiro?” He asked frantically. Hunk looked down.

“I don’t know. We got separated.”

An enormous boom and a veil of smoke appeared behind them, and Keith started convulsing as if he were coughing up a lung. Lance grabbed him by the arm.

“There’s no time to find them. We have to leave now!”

Keith couldn’t see a thing except for the ground beneath him, fumbling around as Lance guided him through the corridors. One second, Hunk was behind him, the next he heard a thump as he fell to the floor, grabbing his thigh. Blue blood was flowing from the wound, Hunk’s face writhing in frustration as he tried to get up. Keith tapped Lance’s shoulder. Hunk shook his head.

“Go! Don’t worry about me! Save yourselves!”

Lance ignored his protests, hoisting him on his back as best as he could, dragging Hunk’s much larger body along towards the door at the end of the hall. “No way I’m leaving you behind, buddy!” Keith nodded in agreement, following behind them as best he could with his damaged ankle.

Once they shut the door behind them, Hunk dropped to the floor, leaning against the wall with an exhausted sigh.

“DON’T MOVE!” They heard someone shout from the outside, several shots firing. Three soft thumps followed and Keith hitched, not wanting to think about the cause of that sound. He threw Lance a worried look.

“Go now before they come back,” Hunk said to Lance, “I’ll manage.”

Lance shook his head, tears forming in his eyes.

“I w-won’t,” he stammered out. Hunk put a large hand on his shoulder.

“Please, just go. Find a way out. I’ll catch up with you at the border.” His eyes flickered to Keith and back. “You can’t protect us both; I’ll only slow you down.”

“Hunk, I—”

“Go now. Take care of each other.” Lance nodded reluctantly, putting a hand to his chest.

“Don’t you dare die on me, Hunk.” Hunk gave a half-hearted chuckle.

“I’ll do my best.”

Another set of doors and a near-death experience later, Lance and Keith found their way to the second floor.

“There’s supposed to be an exit at the end of this hall,” Lance yelled, pulling Keith along to where another group of androids were gathering. They had just set foot on the metal staircase when they heard someone scream behind them, an officer firing multiple shots in their general direction. Keith didn’t want to find out if he had backup.

“Run!” Lance called, “We’re almost there!”

The clear night sky opened up above them as they sprung for their lives, at least a dozen other androids running beside them.

“STOP!”

Shots fired rapidly and without proper aim, intending to hit anyone in the shooter’s path. Keith’s heart jumped in his throat as he felt the squeeze from Lance’s hand. There was no way they’d survive this. Wait! That was it!

As cartridges dropped around them, fellow androids falling to their knees on the asphalt, Keith tackled Lance to the ground with him, hoping he’d take the hint. He laid as silent as he could, face down, attempting not to take large breaths. Lance’s hand was still in his, the comforting gesture enough to calm his pulse the tiniest of fractions. Keith held his breath as the officers stopped beside his head, feeling a barrel poke at his neck.

“Come on, let’s get out of here!” One of them yelled, and soon the footsteps disappeared.

Chapter Text

Tuesday November 9^th 11:47 PM - Wednesday November 10th 00:51 AM

The blowout from the explosion was massive, sky-high orange flames erupting from the wreckage and sending debris flying everywhere. However, it provided brilliant cover for their escape. The loud bang was still ringing in Keith’s ears as they ran past the containers and into a nearby shed, hiding as best they could. Keith shivered, blowing hot air into his palms and rubbing them together to keep warm. Lance noticed, and before he could protest, he was pressed flat against a warm chest, strong, tan arms wrapping around him to protect him from the cold.

“Thanks,” he mumbled, as Lance pressed a kiss to his forehead. Even his lips were warm like a furnace. Keith wasn’t aware he could heat them up like that.

“No problem,” Lance smiled, rubbing his arms along Keith’s, creating warmth from the friction. “Not sure how long I can keep this up, though. I’m exhausted.” A pang of worry flew up Keith’s spine.

“Don’t overexert yourself,” he berated Lance, “I’ll be fine.” But despite his best efforts, he kept shivering. Lance took it as a silent request to keep going.

If it hadn’t been for the flames, the chaos, and the officers running from left to right, this would’ve been a beautiful night. The skies were all clear, stars shining their bright white light down at the streets beneath them. Right above Keith, Orion’s belt glittered, its reflection almost purple, shimmering down at their faces. Next to it, the full moon had risen from the horizon, its eerie glow alluring in an almost sinister way. When Keith looked at Lance, he could see the sky mirrored in his eyes. Soon, he thought. Soon they would look up at the stars from the other side of the border, finally safe from this dreadful nightmare. That thought was the only thing keeping him going.

To their left, Keith noticed a giant billboard lighting up, other lights in the area flickering once and then vanishing. A strict woman with short blonde hair and pearl earrings covered the screen. Isn’t that the president...? Lance’s LED flashed red. He gritted his teeth at her.

“Shhh,” Keith said, rubbing their hands together in a soothing motion. Yellow, blue. Good. This was not the time to panic. They were hidden from view here. It was best to stand by and assess the situation.

“A national curfew has been declared. Civilian movement will be strictly controlled, the right to assembly is suspended, all electronic communications are restricted, and I have granted enhanced powers to our security agencies. In addition to these measures, all androids must be handed over to the authorities immediately. Temporary facilities are being set up in all our major cities to contain and destroy them.”

“Destroy us?” Lance shuddered, his LED once again shifting. Keith gulped. He had to admit that didn’t sound very promising.

“I am now asking all civilians to cooperate with authorities,” the President continued, “Rest assured that everything in our power is being done to guarantee the security of our nation.

“The FBI has recently raided an abandoned freighter in Detroit. Several hundred androids were destroyed or captured. Our forces are now combing the streets to ensure that none got through the net. We are going to find them one by one and destroy them. The deviants have proven to be very violent, so far (“Liar”, Lance mumbled into Keith’s hair). They have demonstrated that they are a menace to society, and I have every intention of eliminating them.

“The deviant leader, known as Markus, has not been located yet, but we are in the process of tracking it down and neutralizing it.”

Lance perked up at the statement. “Markus is alive?”

“Most likely,” Keith reasoned, “They’ve probably been scouting all over for his body. If he was dead, there’s no way they wouldn’t have noticed.”

“What about the explosion?”

“We escaped. There’s no reason he wouldn’t be capable of doing the same. Let’s stay positive for now.” Lance nodded in agreement.

“Besides the androids, authorities are looking for their human accomplice, 21-year-old college student Keith Kogane, who has been conspiring with the androids to overthrow the government and ensure android rule. He is considered a war criminal and should be reported on sight. Make sure not to approach this dangerous individual. Stay back and let the police handle the confrontations. That is all.”

“Shit.” Keith cursed, nibbling at his lip. As if it wasn’t hard enough to escape without his name blown up on every billboard around the city. How were they supposed to find a safe space now?

A torchlight shone in the shed’s direction. Lance toppled them over, rolling behind a wooden box and covering Keith’s surprised yelp with his hand.

“Close call,” he murmured; the yellow flicker of his LED lighting up Keith’s cheek.

“Thanks.”

“We need to move,” Lance urged, but he seemed hesitant.

“I know,” Keith agreed, “but where to? We never managed to get the passports from Shiro…”

“With all due respect,” Lance said, gesturing to Keith and Markus’s faces still covering the billboards, massive red text reading WANTED scrolling across the screen, “I don’t think passports would really help us at this point.”

Keith swallowed hard. Yeah, that seemed like a fair assessment. He ran a hand through his tangled black hair, feeling the grease from days without showering collecting on his fingertips. What would be their best chance of surviving this mess? They had been separated from Shiro and Pidge at the boat, and there was no telling whether they were dead or alive. Hunk was left behind, injured but determined to get out on his own. Keith had yet to see captive androids or dead bodies that looked like it could be him. If they could communicate somehow, it would be a lot easier to plan their next move, but they had no phones and Lance seemed to struggle to connect with whatever strange network he had been using to communicate with Markus. Looks like they were on their own.

Still on their stomachs behind the box, Lance and Keith tried their best to look around the corner and scope out the area without catching attention. Uniformed patrols passed by their location about every two minutes, armed with rifles, torches and batons. Officers were building barricades around the shipwreck and the surrounding area, with manned control posts you had to pass to move forward. There were still some gaps they hadn’t covered, but with guard patrols making rounds this often, they would have to be extremely careful to get through without being noticed. Still, what choice did they have?

Counting down to when the guards were furthest from their location, Keith and Lance tiptoed out from behind the boxes, racing from the shed to a set of containers at the center of the bay. They were only a few seconds from being seen, Keith holding his breath as best he could as the guards walked by. The adrenaline pumping through his veins made him forget about his injuries and fatigue. There was only room for fear as they snuck their way towards the first barricades. Keith was just about to make a run for it when Lance caught onto his shoulder, spinning him around so fast he nearly lost his balance.

With shivering hands, he pointed across the road at a brick wall to their left, and Keith couldn’t help letting out a gasp of shock and relief. Battered but still functioning, his enormous hands tied behind his back, Hunk stood out like a sore thumb beside the two smaller prisoners. A cut ran up the side of his face, leaking thirium like a defect faucet. His bandana had fallen down into his eyes, soaking up the blue blood and turning a murky greenish color. When Keith looked back at Lance, his eyes were glazed with determination. We have to save him; he mouthed. Keith nodded briefly. He knew it was a bad idea, but he didn’t have it in him to leave his friend behind once more.

The duo snuck behind a nearby car; the guards distracted with a panicked android pretending to be a civilian. Despite his manic efforts, they didn’t seem to believe him in the slightest.

“Please, no. Don’t shoot! I’m human! I- I have a wife. Yes, I need to get home to my wife, plea—” A series of gunshots, then deafening silence. Keith didn’t have the strength to look behind him. There was no point when he already knew what happened. Cold tears were running down Lance’s face. Keith moved to wipe them away but stopped himself. They needed to focus. If they didn’t execute this perfectly, Hunk would be next.

Now that they were closer, Keith recognized the two smaller androids as the Coran models from The Jolly Mustache. They must have been separated from their group. He hoped that didn’t mean they were the only two left. Hunched over and trembling with fright, they looked far from their poised and extravagant selves, their dress robes now more grey than blue, loose frills hanging from the side of their jackets.

Lance nodded towards a stack of bricks close to the car, making walking motions with his fingers. As soon as the other set of guards turned back, Keith followed his lead, picking up a brick and sneaking up behind the two guards watching over Hunk and the Corans. Since they sat with their backs turned, Hunk and his fellow prisoners didn’t see them approaching. An advantage, Keith thought. The surprise on their faces would have given away their location too soon.

When they were only a few feet away from their targets, Lance lifted his fingers and counted down: Three, two, one. Thump! A synchronized hit, causing both guards to tumble lifelessly to the ground. While Lance dragged their limp bodies away from view, Keith untied Hunk and the Corans as fast as his shaking hands could muster. Hunk enveloped him in a bear-hug, checking him over for damages as if Keith was the one that had been held captive by enemy forces.

“I’m ok, I’m ok,” he stressed, reluctantly pulling away from the embrace. His voice was barely above a whisper, acutely aware that the patrolling guards would be back any second. Hunk pointed a stern finger at him.

“This is dangerous. You shouldn’t have risked your lives to save me,” but Keith could see the gratefulness behind the scorn of his soft, brown eyes. He then ran over to Lance, hugging him just as tight despite ample protests.

“Reunions will have to wait, buddy,” Lance whispered, a hint of a smile grazing his lips. “We have to hide now. Follow me.”

Lance and Hunk were in front, Keith and the Corans making up the rear as they snuck past the first barricade and hid behind a trailer in an abandoned parking lot. Patrols seemed to be less frequent behind the barrier. I guess they rely more on their first line of security than they should.

Without warning, a pair of arms snuck around Keith from behind, lifting him into the air. He yelped, waving his hands at the Corans, who were apparently trying to carry him in triumph as a salute to him for rescuing them. Luckily, Lance got them to put him down rather quickly. Such a ruckus was bound to cause some unwanted attention.

“Keith, Lance, you saved us!” The Corans cheered, their enthusiasm high as ever.

“Shhh!” Lance scolded them, but they smiled wide, seemingly oblivious to everyone’s distress. At least Keith didn’t have to wonder how they had gotten themselves caught.

“We don’t know how to thank you,” they continued, fortunately at a more suitable volume for the situation. Then they turned to Lance. “You haven’t seen the rest of us, have you? I know they captured us, sent us to that terrible place,”—they shivered—“but some, some of us got away.”

“Sent where?” Keith interrupted, The Corans’ tense demeanor making him anxious.

“Somewhere horrible,” they said, shivering again. “Androids are stuffed together in vans and taken away, forced to strip off their skin and contained in small barracks. They say once you get inside, you will never come back out alive.” Disgust ran through Keith’s veins like a flood. Concentration camps? When he thought humanity couldn’t sink any lower.

Keith’s hand hovered over Coran’s shoulder, but he pulled back. Nothing he could do or say would make this situation better. They looked back at him, eyes shifting before glossing over. Both Corans twitched once, then twice, their LEDs reverting to blue. Then they turned around and meandered into the distance.

“Hey!” Hunk whispered insistently, “Where are you going?”

“Must return to the bar,” they singsonged in synchrony, “Someone needs to take care of the customers, mop the floors…. Have to make sure it is ready for when our master comes back.”

“What’s wrong with them?” Keith questioned. Lance shook his head.

“I… I’m not sure. Must be the shock.”

“If they go back across the barrier…” Keith started, but Lance placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“It’s their choice. Nothing we can do about it…” Despite his calm demeanor, Lance didn’t seem too enthused by letting them roam free either.

The trio hid behind the trailer, hearing Coran’s footsteps dwindle down as they disappeared down the road and back through the barrier. There were no screams nor other signs of their imminent capture, so Keith chose to think they were ok. If he’d believed in higher powers, he might’ve sent a prayer their way, but with all the terrors he had witnessed over the past few days, there was no way anything divine could be watching over them.

While Keith massaged his sore ankle, Lance scouted around the area looking for patrol guards. Hunk plumped down next to him, tinkering with something with his large, brown fingers. Curious, Keith looked over at him. It was a metallic four by four-inch box with three large buttons on the front and an antenna sticking out on top. On the left side was a speaker, spewing a low white noise that reminded Keith of old FM radio players. He poked Hunk on the shoulder and scooted closer.

“What’s that?”

Hunk sighed, turning it in his hands. “Pidge gave it to me. Said to use it to speak to them. But I think it’s broken, I can only hear this terrible noise.”

“Let me!” Keith cried out, enthusiasm spreading across his face as he snatched the device from Hunk’s hands, pressing all three buttons in quick succession. Nothing happened.

“See?” Hunk threw his arms up as Keith tried various different combinations, “I told you it’s not working.”

“Coast is clear,” Lance called from the brick wall across from them, “No guards in sight. They’re probably all busy watching over the checkpoint. Hey, what’s that?” He cocked his head and pointed at the small box.

“Some communication device?” Keith answered, but it sounded more like a question. “Hunk said Pidge gave it to him so they could keep in touch. I’m not sure how to use it though…”

Keith examined the box again. There was no on or off button, just the three symbols on the front. Two arrows pointing up and down, placed on either side of a large button with a squiggly M on it. Unlike the arrows, this seemed to be painted on by hand. On the back was an old sticker from Zelda: Breath of The Wild Remastered, Pidge’s favorite retro-game. Technology-wise, this seemed far more primitive than anything Pidge would’ve made. Either they had fashioned this communicator with limited time and resources, or it was something they had been holding onto for a long time. Perhaps something they’d made in their youth. Was Keith supposed to remember this thing? He couldn’t recall having seen it before. And what did that M mean?

“Do you think you can get it to work, Keith?” Lance questioned, eyeing the box with fascination.

“There has to be a way,” he reasoned, “Pidge wouldn’t have given this to us if it wasn’t useful.” He pressed the big “M” button again. Nothing.

“Have you tried pressing them all at the same time?” Lance prompted, and Keith nodded. It felt like he had tried everything already. He pushed “M” in frustration, holding down the button as he spat at the box.

“Damn it, Pidge! You could’ve at least left us a manual or something.”

“Hey!” Hunk punched him in the shoulder, “The white noise stopped.”

Puzzled, Keith lifted his hand from the button. The noise returned. Strange. He was about to toss the box across the sidewalk and move on when a high-pitched grating sounded from the speakers, piercing through their ears.

*screeeee*….–eith!… up… *screech*… three ti- *****

“Pidge?” Keith frantically pressed the up button three times.

*… Can you hear me now? Over.* Keith had never been this happy to hear Pidge’s voice through any medium before.

“Yes! Yes, I can hear you!” But it didn’t seem Pidge could hear him. They kept repeating the same message, sounding more distressed each time.

*… Hello? Hunk? Keith? Can you hear me? Over.*

“Yes!” Keith yelled a little louder than he considered safe, getting increasingly frustrated. “Yes. We can hear you!”

*… Hmmm…. Strange… I swear I just heard them. Do you think something happened?* Silence. Then… *Hey, Keith! You need to hold down the big button in the middle while you speak. You know, like a walkie-talkie, over.*

“A walkie-what?” Lance asked, puzzled. Keith ignored him and held down the button.

*“Hey Pidge, it’s Keith! Can you hear me now?”* The next few seconds felt like hours.

*Screech*

*Loud and clear, over!* A collective sigh of relief spread through the group.

*"Is Shiro with you?”* Keith asked, dread and hopefulness seeping through his voice.

*He’s here, don’t worry. We’re with Matt. Everyone ok over there?*

*"I guess. We’ve been in worse shape. At least we’re out of harm’s way for now.”

It turned out the box was one of two homemade radios made by Matt and Pidge when they were kids. They both kept them on hand to communicate with instead of holograms and phones, mostly for the nostalgia of it. When Pidge had realized they were going to be separated, they had entrusted their device to Hunk, hoping they could keep in touch once they and Shiro reunited with Matt. But there had been no time to explain the mechanics.

As for how they got out, Keith had to say Pidge’s quick wits impressed him. When the police found them, they had immediately dropped to their knees and scurried over, pretending to be prisoners held captive by the malicious androids. A policewoman had escorted them outside and shielded them from the gunfire, only to be knocked out by Shiro and left to burn as they escaped into the night. Matt had met them with his truck on the outskirts of town.

Shiro still had their passports at hand, though they were rendered practically useless after the president’s live speech, plastering Keith’s face all across the city. Still, he argued, they might be useful to seek residence in Canada once the situation had calmed down. Regardless, there were always other, more dangerous ways to get across the border. The river crossing might be their best bet. Matt’s friend had a boat down by the harbor they could “borrow”. He doubted he’d be mad once he explained it in the aftermath. It was an emergency, after all.

How would they get there, though? It wasn’t as though Matt’s truck could smash through the barricades and pick them up. Driving in might as well be declaring war on the base. Keith had no doubt shots would be fired before questions. However, with every citizen in Detroit—hell, in the country—knowing his name and face, there was no telling what the patrols would do to them if they tried passing through the checkpoint normally. Sneaking around was their only option.

*There’s a parking garage behind the bus terminal at West Side Industrial. Try to meet us there in half an hour.*

*“Ok.”*

*And Keith… Stay safe out there.* The line went dead.

Chapter Text

Wednesday November 10th 01:03 AM - Wednesday November 10th 02:41 AM

Staying safe turned out to be harder than expected. Airborne patrols started arriving at the bay, helicopters showering the streets in bright, white light that made it difficult to find refuge in the shadows. Luckily, there were fewer ground patrols the farther they got from the harbor, and the trio arrived at the bus stop at West Side Industrial without being seen.

They had to stop along the way to apply pressure to Hunk’s wound, which Lance haphazardly bandaged using a torn off jacket-sleeve. It fell down over his left eye, making him look like a pirate. Maybe his rugged exterior would be enough to scare any curious bypassers they happened to come across. They could hope.

Rounding the corner to the bus stop, Keith was shocked to see the number of police officers present. In contrast to the patrol guards, they were decked out in armored suits from top to bottom, orange pads on their shoulder, reading “BORDER PATROL” in stark black letters. Their faces were obscured, making the humans waiting for the bus even more vary of them. Speaking of the humans, they were huddled together like rattled sheep, one by one forced to come forward and face the soldiers. There, they scanned them with a pistol-like device, as though they were items on the checkout at a supermarket. However, Keith suspected the information they received was far more private than the price of an item.

“We have to stay away from that,” he mumbled to Lance, nodding towards the scanner, “Let’s take a detour around the back. Cutting through isn’t worth the extra minutes.”

A radio broadcast from a nearby tower informed them the last bus of the night had left. The people waiting had to be terrified. Keith hoped none of them were androids. That seemed like a tough situation to get out of unscathed.

 Ten minutes and several almost run-ins with the border patrol later, Keith followed Lance and Hunk through a side door into the near-empty parking garage. Immediately, he was met by a sprinting Matt, who had to catch his breath, hands on his knees, when he finally reached them.

“Car’s over there. Quick, follow me!”

Matt’s red Ford Cybertruck 4 was his most prized possession. It wasn’t the fanciest of cars, but with the massive market inflation over the past few years, it was impressive he could afford one at all. Burgundy red with shiny black rims, she stood waiting with the engine running near the back exit. The tires alone reached Keith’s hip when he walked past them. When the car doors slid open and the seats turned, Keith was immediately tackled by Shiro, his mother hen instincts taking over, inspecting Keith’s body from top to bottom wearing the cutest frown.

“How’s your ankle?” He asked, a deep furrow forming between his brows as he helped Keith into his seat.

“Been better,” Keith admitted with a grimace, “but all the running and hiding really helps mask the pain.” Shiro’s perturbed look told him those were definitely not the words he should’ve used.

“I’m glad you’re safe,” Keith told him, changing the subject. Soft crinkles replaced the furrows as Shiro placed a hand on his thigh. He exhaled as if he’d kept an entire tornado locked up inside him.

“Me too. I thought I might’ve lost you.”

Keith chuckled. “You won’t get rid of me that easy, old-timer.”

“Good to know.”

Hunk shared the front seats with Pidge, while Lance, Keith, and Shiro tucked into the back together. Despite being reprimanded by both Lance and Shiro, Keith refused to put his seatbelt on, curling up in Lance’s warm lap like a cat. He had experienced enough near-death episodes not to believe a short car-ride was what would finish him. For the first few minutes, Lance’s fingers carded through his hair in soothing figure-eights, but after a while, Keith could feel his arms grow slack as he started recharging. It was unsettling how slow the beating of his thirium pump became in these moments. Keith had to keep a hand splayed across his chest at all times to make sure it was still there.

“I love you,” Keith whispered into Lance’s abdomen, though he knew he couldn’t hear him. Shiro threw them a tender glance that made his cheeks tint pink. I wish we could all stay like this.

As they closed in on the river, Pidge insisted Matt turned on the radio for an update on the rebellion. They didn’t have to search for long; almost every channel had interrupted their scheduled programming to report on what was happening in Detroit. A robotic female voice (how ironic that they used an AI for this) listed casualties of the past 10 hours with a monotone voice. Of course, they mentioned no androids, though countless of them had died or been disassembled. The announcement left a sour taste in Keith’s mouth.

“We are live outside Detroit Recall Center No 5, where androids have gathered in an apparent protest. Military forces are on standby, ready to contain the android demonstration. The androids have yet to launch an attack, but with their vicious actions over the past few days, we are sure it’s only a matter of time before they charge.”

“SURRENDER IMMEDIATELY OR WE WILL OPEN FIRE!”

“We don’t want confrontation!”

“Markus!” Lance cheered at the familiar voice. “He’s ok.”

“Might not be for long,” Hunk muttered nervously, “Those guys seem dangerous. They won’t take his provocations lightly.”

“We are protesting peacefully.”

“I REPEAT: SURRENDER NOW OR WE WILL OPEN FIRE!”

“We ask that you release all androids detained in camps and cease all aggressions against us.”

Markus continued speaking as though the threats didn’t faze him. His courage had always been admirable, but Keith’s respect for him had never been greater. “We are peaceful. We will not resort to violence.”

“Ok, we’re here,” Matt said, turning down the volume and interrupting the broadcast. Keith almost wanted to protest, insist that they stayed and listened to hear the outcome of the revolution. Pidge must’ve seen the look on his face in the rearview mirror because they lifted their communicator demonstratively into view.

“We’ll tell you what happened once you’re on the other side. This way we’ll know when you’re safe as well.” Keith nodded, clutching his communicator as he sat up. Lance pressed a soft kiss to his cheek.

“Ready?” he whispered.

“Not really,” Keith replied, feeling his fingers tremble. This was it, the moment of truth, the curtain call. Everything they had done in the past days had led up to this. One last hurdle before freedom. He took Lance’s hand in his and they stepped out of the car together.

There was fresh snow along the riverbank, making it easier to navigate despite the darkness of the night. The moon’s rays pierced down, bouncing off the snowflakes on the withering reeds like glitter. A lone rubber dinghy with a red outboard motor laid tied to a pole by the water’s edge. Keith looked around the deserted area. No docks, nor any signs of other watercrafts. This didn’t look like a typical place to leave a boat.

“My buddy doesn’t have a spot at the harbor,” Matt explained, “He tows his boat in offsite locations like this so he can keep it at shore but avoid the payment. This is one of several. He rotates them.”

Lance walked over to inspect the boat while Shiro pulled Keith aside behind the truck for some privacy. The seriousness in his black eyes made Keith shudder. This scared him enough as it was without Shiro attempting to give him an uplifting pep-talk. It seemed Shiro realized as much because he pulled Keith into a tight hug and stayed silent for the next fifteen seconds. Then he cleared his throat. Keith could spot a single tear in the corner of his eye as he pulled away.

“Adam will meet you on the other side. Don’t you dare die on me, Keith.”

Keith swallowed hard. Suddenly the responsibility of staying alive weighed even heavier on his shoulders. “I’ll try my best,” he joked, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes.

Lance soon joined them, and Shiro embraced him as well, whispering something in his ear that Keith couldn’t catch. He nodded, eyes unwavering as they shook hands a final time. Pidge practically climbed him like a eucalyptus, their long koala arms thrown around his neck as they buried their face in his shoulder. Their choked hiccups were what caused Keith to finally tear up, his body giving into the maelstrom of emotions threatening to drown him. Pidge had always been like a younger sibling to him. The thought of possibly never seeing them again… No, it was better not to go there.

Lance and Hunk got koala hugs as well; there was no point in protesting, and after Keith hugged Matt as if his life depended on it, Lance and Hunk exchanged rather awkward handshakes with him.

“Thanks for the help,” Lance said, gently patting Matt’s shoulder.

“My pleasure… Shit! I didn’t mean it like that!” Lance let out a snicker as Matt shifted his feet, fiddling with his jacket sleeve. Five seconds later, he was still looking everywhere but at Lance, cheeks flaming.

“Anyway,” Pidge piped up, “Take care of each other, yeah?” They all nodded, pressing back tears as they boarded the dinghy.

Three people were a snug fit for the small rubber boat, but it had no problem running at an acceptable speed. Between the wind, slight waves, and flaky snow, the ride wasn’t very pleasant, but the adrenaline kept Keith from thinking too much about the cold.

“Once we get across,” Hunk said, his voice dreamy, “We won’t have to be afraid anymore. There won’t be anybody giving us orders. No masters, no slaves. We’ll be free.”

“Yeah, buddy,” Lance smiled at him, “We can finally do whatever we want. Anything.” His hand found Keith’s and squeezed hard. Keith squeezed back, butterflies swerving in his stomach. This was it. They were closing in. It almost seemed too easy.

A stark, white light shone straight at them as a patrol boat sped out of the darkness headed in their direction.

“KEITH, DUCK!”

The next few seconds were a blur. Keith heard gunshots passing above, his stomach pressed flat against the ship, Lance on top of him, holding him down. He couldn’t see anything, only listen to the rapid thrumming of Lance’s thirium pump, waiting in silence for the shots to let up and the border patrol to pass. Of course, there would be security guarding the overpass. Why didn’t they prepare for this? He felt so stupid. How were they supposed to get across now?

The shots held up after a while, the sound of the boat moving further and further away from them. Keith poked Lance with his shoulder, both to signal that they should check the boat for damages and because his lungs felt like they were about to implode from the pressure. Keith knew he was unharmed and quickly scanned Lance to look for injuries. He choked on his breath, seeing the gaping wound on the left side of his abdomen.

“L-Lance…” he started, but he didn’t know what to say. His hand moved out to touch him, feeling the wetness of thirium soaking his fingers. Keith fell to his knees, trembling. This couldn’t be happening. He wouldn’t allow it.

“Keith, I’m ok,” Lance reassured him, though the pained expression on his face told a different story. “The bullet didn’t hit any vitals. I just need to be careful. Once we get across we can look for spare parts for me, ok?” He held Keith’s tear-stained face in his hands, brushing over his trembling bottom lip with his thumb.

“Ok…”

“I’m gonna go check the engine for damages,” Lance informed him, standing up and moving towards the rear of the boat. Keith nodded and wiped his tears. Lance was fine. They could do this. Now he needed to be of as much help as possible. He turned around to tell Hunk to look for damages in the dinghy and noticed he was still lying face down on deck, not moving an inch. Maybe he thought their attackers were still around. Keith didn’t want to consider any other options.

“Hey buddy,” he called, leaning forward and shaking Hunk’s shoulder lightly, “You can get up now. The patrols are gone.” No response. “Hunk? Hunk?” Keith’s voice rose in pitch as he shook his friend more firmly, almost lifting his burly body up by his jacket sleeves. “Lance, there’s something wrong!” he called; panic seeping into his voice. “Hunk? Come on, answer me!”

Lance rushed over, and together they rolled Hunk on his back, gasping in unison at the multiple gunshot wounds in his chest. Next to his bloodied bandana, there was no familiar blue light, not even a red hue signaling pain or distress. Just darkness.

“Do you think…? Is he…?” Keith didn’t manage to finish the question. Lance nodded solemnly, icy tears running down the side of his face.

“Fuck this!” He yelled, kicking the seating in front of him. “Fuck all of this bullshit!”

“Quiet down,” Keith insisted, “We don’t know if they’ll come back.” But deep down he was thinking: What’s the point? Their friend was dead, and the boats had to be making rounds of the river. Eventually, they would be back. Lance and Keith were sitting ducks.

They didn’t get to grieve their friend’s death for long. The shots had made several holes in the dinghy, and water kept leaking inside at an alarming rate. Keith could feel both his shoes and his bandages soaking through, leaving his feet freezing. Soon, water was up to his ankles, the boat slowly dipping below the surface of the water.

“We’re gonna sink!” He cried out, “We’re too heavy!” He met Lance’s face, his reflection just as desperate as his own. Keith had heard drowning was one of the most excruciating ways to die. Seems he was about to find out if it lived up to its rumors.

“We need to get rid of some weight!” Lance called, “The motor isn’t working, I’m gonna throw it overboard.”

Keith rummaged beneath the seat, looking for anything expendable he could toss in the water. Two supply boxes and the engine later, the boat was still getting flooded with alarming amounts of water. Looking around them, Keith slumped his shoulders in defeat. There was nothing they could do. He closed his eyes, ready to succumb to the waves when—

“Keith, help me out!” Keith looked up to see Hunk’s lifeless arm looped over Lance’s shoulder. He couldn’t seriously be suggesting…?

“Look, I don’t want to do this anymore than you do, but you wanna survive, right?” Lance’s blue eyes were glowing, almost feral in the heavy darkness. Has he lost his mind?

“Lance, we can’t just leave him here… We can’t.”

“We have no choice!” Keith’s heart pounded in his ears, his stomach sinking as he realized Lance was right.

Nauseous and trembling, Keith grabbed a hold of Hunk’s other arm, hoisting him up in a sitting position. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” he mumbled as they dragged him closer to the edge.

 “On three,” Lance instructed, and Keith could swear his face looked green in the moonlight. “One, two, three!”

The sound of that splash would forever haunt Keith’s nightmares, and he had to look away as Hunk’s body slowly sunk towards the bottom of the black river. Lance sobbed quietly next to him. Keith wanted to say something, anything, to make him feel better, but there were no words. This was a tragedy beyond measure.

“What do we do now?” Keith asked; his voice hoarse from all the crying. “Do you think they’ll come back?”

“I don’t know,” Lance said, leaning his head on Keith’s shoulder, “The river is long, and they’re probably assuming we’re dead. I don’t think they’ll be back for a while.” Then he jerked up, rubbing his eyes. “Am I hallucinating, or is that shore over there?”

Keith peered out across the horizon, eyes squinted in focus. Lance was right. Not too far ahead of them, Keith could see the snowy reeds and bushes covering the riverbank. This was a miracle. But how would they get ashore without a motor?

“It’s pretty shallow here, I think I can push the boat to shore,” Lance said, as if reading his mind.

“No!” Keith protested, “You’re hurt. I’ll do it!” Lance looked him up and down, slowly shaking his head.

“With your foot damaged like that, you won’t be able to kick off from the ground properly. Besides, the water is freezing. I don’t want you dying from hypothermia as soon as we get across.” Then he rose and plunged into the water in a single leap, like their discussion was already over. Keith wanted to scold him for his stubbornness but knew it wouldn’t help either of them. Lance had decided. He should stay calm and go along with the plan, no matter how ridiculous it was. Soon, this would all be over.

It only took them a few minutes to get ashore. Lance seemed to have found an efficient technique, huffing loudly as he pushed them closer and closer to dry land. When the boat hit ground, Keith leaped off immediately, relief flooding through his body. He was so happy he could dance, warmth flooding back into his veins as he fell to his knees and kissed the snow in front of him.

“We made it! Oh, my god! Lance, we made it! Lance…?”

Behind him, Lance had collapsed over the rear of the boat, completely exhausted. His eyes seemed to glow weaker than usual, his simulated breath coming in sharp heaves. Keith ran over and hoisted his inert body over his shoulders, ignoring the stabbing pain in his ankle and dragging him ashore. He was ice cold, his limbs seeming almost frozen in place. No doubt, the cold water had done as much damage to him as it would’ve done to Keith.

“You made it, Keith.” Lance spoke softly, as if he didn’t have the energy to increase the volume of his voice. “You’ll be safe now.”

“What do you mean I? We made it, you idiot! I’m sure Adam will be here any minute. We’ll get you somewhere warm, look over your injuries, and then… Then…” Keith choked, tears he thought he didn’t have left spurting from his eyes. Lance smiled fondly at him, then shook his head.

“The temperature of my system is far too low, I’ll be shutting down any minute.”

“But you said—”

“If I had told you, you wouldn’t have let me do it,” Lance stated bluntly. “I couldn’t let you freeze to death out there when we were so close to shore…” His eyelids flickered involuntarily, head slumping to fall against Keith’s chest.

“No! You’re not allowed to do this to me! I won’t let you!” Keith shook Lance hard, but he didn’t respond, feeling like a limp rag doll in his arms. In a last show of strength, Lance’s hand came up to cup Keith’s face. It was ice cold.

“Hey, cariño… Stay safe out there for me, yeah?”

“No… Please no… Come with me… Please,” Keith begged, pressing his forehead against Lance’s. “I love you,” he whispered, kissing the tears falling from Lance’s eyes. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

“I’m sorry. I can’t.”

One of Lance’s hands rummaged beneath his clothes, removing a patch of skin near his thirium pump. A small disk, almost like a memory stick, popped out. “I want you to have this,” Lance said, the blue in his eyes momentarily flickering to black. “Thank you for showing me how to live, Keith…. How to love.”

“No… No… I won’t let you.”

“Take it,” Lance urged, clasping Keith’s hand around the disk, “Remember me.”

“Please don’t go.”

“I love you, cariño.” For a fleeting moment, Lance leaned forward and their lips met, his final life force diving into the kiss. Keith kissed back as hard as he could, as though that would somehow transfer his vitality to his boyfriend and make him survive. This wasn’t how things were supposed to go. They were supposed to make it together.

Keith collapsed on top of Lance, watching as his eyes turned coal and the red light at his temple flickered one final time. He clutched the memory disk to his chest. Lance wanted him to keep this. He would protect it no matter what. Screw that, he would protect all of Lance’s body. Keith would stay here with him forever. There was nowhere else to go now that Lance was gone.

He didn’t know if it had been minutes or hours when he heard a car pulling up behind him, nor did he care. He vaguely recognized Adam’s voice calling for him but didn’t respond. Soon, a pair of arms grabbed hold of him from behind, detangling him from Lance’s body.

“No! No!” Keith wailed, desperately grabbing at Lance’s legs as they dragged him towards a black minivan. “I won’t leave him!”

He didn’t have the strength to fight back, collapsing as soon as they put him in the back seat. He only heard bits and pieces of the conversation around him.

“-eith… You’ll be ok now… Everything will be fine, I promise.” But Adam was lying. Nothing would ever be fine again.

A mellow tune came from the radio. Keith couldn’t quite pinpoint the voices, but they sounded familiar. Spurting another ridiculous promise of peace and happiness. Ridiculous. Didn’t they know how cruel the world was? Still, the melody was soothing, and Keith allowed it to whisk him away into a dream he hoped he’d never have to wake from. A dream where he and Lance were together, always.

...

/Hold on just a little while longer

Hold on just a little while longer

Hold on just a little while longer

Everything will be alright

Everything will be alright/

/Fight on just a little while longer

Fight on just a little while longer

Pray on just a little while longer

Everything will be alright

Everything will be alright/

/Sing on just a little while longer

Sing on just a little while longer

Sing on just a little while longer

Everything will be alright

Everything will be alright/

CHANNEL 16

LIVE BREAKING NEWS: DEVIANTS SING ANDROID ANTHEM

Military forces ready to fire on androids. Android leader breaks into song in “protest”

“… These images of deviants singing in the face of death are being seen all over the planet. Surely, deviants are just defective machines? Or are they a new form of life, one that we refused to acknowledge? When we watch footage of androids facing down the barrel of a gun, we can only speculate as to whether they simply simulated fear and courage or whether they didn’t really feel these emotions.

“President Warren is said to have intervened personally to spare the androids. The peaceful demonstration of the deviants and the dignity of Markus, their leader, has won them sympathy from parts of the population. The President has called for the android destruction to be suspended until further notice. A Senate Select Committee has been ordered to review the facts, establish contact with the deviants, and determine if they can indeed be considered a new form of intelligent life.”

Chapter Text

Monday September 3rd 2041 7:57 AM -

Running as fast as his legs could carry him, Keith’s lungs burned as he approached the main campus building at Altea. Glancing down at his watch, he groaned and kept up the pace, excusing himself as he almost collided with another student. She cursed at him, but Keith was too far down the hall to catch her outburst. Exasperated, he scolded himself as he fumbled with the keys to his locker. First day of school and he was already late. How fucking great.

Back here he was just a student, not a humanitarian figurehead for the android/human alliance. Staying up late advising Markus on the next meeting between the Detroit Humanoid Association and the President wasn’t gonna get him out of this pickle. He needed to get his act together and become a morning person before he ruined his chances of keeping his new college spot. He probably wouldn’t get a third chance.

Three years ago, Keith never thought this opportunity would come by him again. To be honest, he probably wouldn’t care if it did. He was too deeply rooted in his sorrow, unable to see a future for himself without Lance by his side. That night at the lake, when Lance died, a part of Keith died with him. A part of him he knew he would never get back. He had cried for days, weeks, months. Refusing to eat, shower, and properly take care of himself. When Shiro arrived in Canada a few days later, he found Keith curled up on the floor of Adam’s living room with a bottle of vodka. It would take almost a year for his drinking problem to get under control.

The group therapy sessions had been hellish but immensely helpful. If Shiro hadn’t forced him to participate, he wouldn’t have been here today. Trauma treatment was definitely not for the faint of heart, and reliving some of his most disturbing memories during waking hours was horrendous. Still, it helped with the reoccurring nightmares and panic attacks; and after a while, Keith got better. Eventually, he managed to shove away his guilt and start living his life the way Lance would have wanted him to. It hurt every single day, and it probably would for the rest of his life, but now it was more of a dull ache than an overwhelming wave of panic and sorrow. After three years, Keith still lived. He never thought that was possible.

A year later, Keith made his first public appearance since that fateful night, retelling his story to millions of listeners all over the US and Canada. The tale of the man who fell in love with an android inspired the nation, and Keith was invited to speak at numerous events throughout the next months. It was exhausting to openly share his trauma, but incredibly rewarding. His speeches appealed to Americans across the country, and soon activists from multiple states demanded they should allow Androids on their grounds. Keith partook in many a peaceful demonstration and cooperated with Markus to contact policymakers and ensure android legal protection.

Three years in, there was still a long way to go. Most US states now allowed androids to travel across their borders and visit, but many still refused them permission to settle down as citizens. Michigan, Ohio and Wisconsin however, were vastly populated by androids, with Detroit as the defined android “capital” of both the US and the world. Great Britain and Canada had turned out to be great allies in the battle for android freedom, which allowed them to spread their message both across borders and overseas. Keith knew the revolution would take time, but he was hopeful. In fact, there was no doubt in his mind that they would one day reach their goal of androids and humans coexisting peacefully across the globe.

Rounding the corner to his lecture hall, Keith cursed himself for not having the time to stop and enjoy his morning coffee. The double espresso would be cold by the time he had found his seat and the lecture started. Oh well, he supposed lukewarm coffee was better than none. The floor was glassy, recently waxed, and his burgundy combat boots slipped and made Keith skid across the floor. Grasping for hold, he crashed straight into a female android, spilling his coffee all over her chartreuse blouse.

The woman cleared her throat as Keith scrambled up from the floor, apologizing profusely. Her top had gone from yellow to grimy, but she smiled overbearingly as she straightened out her pastel pink pencil skirt and offered him a hand. Her long blonde hair was tied in two pigtails, a perfect crown braid framing her head.

“No worries, young man. Accidents happen. Too bad I’ll have to wear this for my first lecture though,” she sighed, her LED flicking yellow for a split second. Keith gulped, feeling his throat dry up.

“Are you the new Art History professor?” he asked, voice submissive, eyes flickering up to meet warm, lilac orbs.

“Yes,” she smiled, pulling at her leather bag, “I’m Romelle, nice to meet you...?” She eyed him expectantly.

“Keith,” he replied, shoulders reverting to a more comfortable position. His Professor didn’t seem to be too mad at him. Still, he wished he would’ve given off a better first impression.

“Are you going to be taking my class this semester?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Romelle chuckled. “There’s no need to call me ma’am. Romelle will do just fine. Now, Keith, I suggest we both go inside; the other students are waiting.”

With a court nod, Romelle passed him and strolled into the lecture hall. Keith let out a sigh of relief as he followed her to find his seat.

Classes went by fast on his first day, and though getting back into the student mindset was tough, Keith was attentive and keep up with his syllabus. It was a different kind of rush to pick up a pencil and work by a canvas again. He had almost forgotten the fire his passion for art used to ignite in him. He’d gone nearly two years without drawing after losing Lance, first because of the immense sorrow, and then because he buried himself in charity work and didn’t let himself enjoy rest and recreation. It was Pidge who had convinced him to have another go at his Arts major, giving a long speech about how it was what Lance would’ve wanted. That was how he had ended up designing a statue of his late boyfriend and himself for his entrance exam, a symbol of the union between man and android. It was now a central attraction along Woodward Avenue, beloved by the local population.

Warmth blossomed in Keith’s chest like a furnace at the memory. He clutched absentmindedly at the necklace hiding underneath his shirt, stroking the familiar outline of Lance’s memory disc. Wherever he went, Keith always kept it with him. Kept him with him. Maybe it was silly of him to cling onto Lance like this, but Keith couldn’t help feeling like maybe, just maybe, if he kept him close, Lance could experience the world with him. Even if the chances were miniscule, it was enough.

Rain poured down outside the Arts Department, and Keith pulled his hoodie down over his face, crossing his arms and looking down as he passed through the doors onto the pavement. His new motorbike, courtesy of Simon and Markus, was waiting for him at the parking lot, unfortunately unable to give him much shelter from the weather. Luckily, the ride to the Cyberlife facilities took only a few minutes, and Pidge’s new drying machine would warm him up in no time.

It was no surprise to Keith that Pidge had taken over control of the Cyberlife production plants after the war. Josh had requested their help specifically, and the way Pidge’s eyes beamed that day was enough of an answer in itself. Together, they had made incredible progress as far as android technology went, allowing for new functions like hovering, expression of physical pain, and a proper biological cycle with a sleeping function. Androids were practically human now. It was fascinating how the most complex organisms in the universe could be replicated perfectly using a bunch of ones and zeroes.

Keith didn’t know why Pidge had called him over today, but they seemed more excited than usual, bouncing on the balls of their feet, eyes twinkling as they asked him to come test a new project for them. He had known immediately that there was something they were intent on hiding from him, but he figured a surprise would be fun for a change. Hopefully, whatever prank they wanted to pull wasn’t all too malicious.

The second he got inside, Keith starting shaking himself dry like a wet dog, twitching his legs and pulling off his soaked hoodie.

“It’s a fucking storm out there,” he muttered at Pidge, who merely snickered, dodging swiftly when he tried to force them into a clammy hug.

“Oh no, Kogane,” they laughed, sticking their tongue out at him, “Not until you’re warm and dry again.”

Keith followed them to the dryer, letting out a soft moan as he stepped inside and the hot air caressed his skin. He didn’t get to stay for long though, as Pidge hauled him out as soon as he was somewhat presentable, dragging him down the hall with a bounce in their step. They passed through the corridors quickly, not even stopping to chat with Josh as he passed them with some new hardware parts. Pidge was definitely acting suspicious. Keith bit his lip, his anticipation building, but whatever he had imagined paled in comparison to what awaited him through the sliding doors to Pidge’s lab.

LANCE?!

 Keith’s heart stopped, his entire face contorting in confusion.

It couldn’t be.

His tongue was glued to the roof of his mouth, every thought rushing through his brain unable to be uttered aloud. Evidently, the android in front of him, still sound asleep in hibernation, looked exactly like his late boyfriend. Well, except for the two blue triangular marks on his cheeks; those were new. What was going on?

His eyes snapped over to Pidge, who looked at him with caution, gauging his reaction. They gulped audibly, adjusting their glasses on the bridge of their nose, reaching out for Keith’s hand.

“I…” They started, hesitating. It was obvious they had hoped for a more enthusiastic response to the revelation. “I have been working on this model since the memorial ceremony. I wanted to make him as similar as possible to our Lance… I know the marks are a new feature, but we equip all new models with them. They are the “free will” protocol, a failsafe, if you will, making sure androids will never revert to blindly following orders. Of course, I have made sure he has the latest version of the android protocols, allowing an even wider range of emotions than before.”

“But… Why?” Keith asked, not sure how to respond. Of course, he appreciated the efforts from his friend, but surely they understood that this replica in no way could replace the real Lance. He sighed, guilty about his own obvious disappointment. “It’s not him, Pidge… It will never be him.” To his surprise, Pidge grinned.

“That’s where you come in,” They beamed, suddenly as enthusiastic as before. Keith quirked a brow at them, still in the dark about the entire ordeal.

“God,” Pidge clutched their chest dramatically, laughing, “I thought I had messed something up, but it turns out you just didn’t understand. Keith, my dude, you are the one who holds the key to making this project a success. You still have them, right? His memories?” They eyed him expectantly. Keith nodded, instinctively reaching for his necklace.

“Of course,” he mumbled, “but how does that even make a difference?”

Pidge chuckled. “Wow, Kogane. I know you’re slow, but this is impressive even for you.”

At that moment, the cogs seemed to fit together in Keith’s brain.

“Wait!” he exclaimed, “You don’t really think...? I figured it had to be broken. There’s no way this will work… Right?” The hope trickling into Keith’s voice was dangerous. He didn’t want to feel that slow, bubbling excitement, nor the dread that came with it. Couldn’t afford to hope. Allowing himself to hope might mean having to lose Lance all over again. Still, he reached around his neck and pulled the leather string off, revealing Lance’s memory card. His hands were trembling as he held it out for Pidge to take.

“We’ll never know unless we try,” they replied, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. They stood there for a minute, teardrops welling up in Keith’s eyes, Pidge patting him between the shoulder blades. Then Pidge walked up to the new Lance and opened his jacket, pressing into his skin to reveal a cartridge. They pushed the memory stick partly inside, then walked back to Keith.

“Put it in place whenever you’re ready. I’ll head out for a minute. I’m sure you guys would like a moment alone.”

As Pidge left, Keith inhaled sharply, shakingly making his way across the room to where Lance stood lifeless. After a few calming breaths, he pushed the card all the way inside, holding his breath in anticipation. One minute. Two minutes. Three. Nothing happened. Keith sunk to the floor, bashing at his thighs with clenched fists. Tears streamed down his face like a river, carving permanent marks on his pale, sunken face. How could he allow himself to get his hopes up? After all this time… Hadn’t he learned anything?

Shivering, Keith rose to his feet, turning away from the robot in front of him. It wasn’t Lance. It would never be Lance. He was stupid to ever believe that. All he wanted was to sink into the ground as if it was a pit of quicksand. To be swallowed up and never reach the surface again. Crestfallen, he made his way to the door when…

“Cariño?”

That voice…

Keith stopped, wavering.

No. He wouldn’t allow himself to hope again. Wouldn’t turn around.

He just couldn’t.

Keith’s eyes were so blank and tear-filled he couldn’t see the door in front of him, but he still pushed on.

It was all in his head.

That voice.

He only heard that voice in his nightmares, and nothing good ever came from chasing it.

“Cariño!” The voice called again, more resolute. Keith collapsed on his knees, sobbing into his hands.

There was no way… There was just no way.

He faintly registered the sound of footsteps approaching. Strong arms pulled Keith flush against a warm chest, a familiar scent of spearmint and cinnamon hitting his nose. Though this model was different, Lance’s body still fit his like two matching puzzle pieces. Keith’s breath hitched. He didn’t dare look up.

“It’s ok, cariño. It’s me. I’m here.”

“Lance?” he whispered, awed but skeptical.

“Yes, baby, it’s me,” the voice comforted him, lips settling at the juncture of his neck.

“I—” Keith hiccupped, finally turning in Lance’s arms, “I’ve missed you so much.”

Lance’s eyes were as red as his, but his LED was bright blue and glimmering. He kissed Keith’s left cheek, then his right, the touching leaving him burning hot against his broad chest.

“I know, baby. I know. I won’t leave you ever again.”

“Promise?”

Keith’s voice was weak, almost childlike, harboring all the pain and sorrow he had repressed over the past three years. Lance cupped his chin, cobalt eyes meeting amethyst.

“I promise.”