Chapter Text
“So.” Leo’s grin is pure, unadulterated mischief. Simon tries his best to feign composure, tone light as he follows Leo back to the taxi.
“So?”
“So your boyfriend’s pretty hot, are you sure you don’t want to spend the rest of the day with him?” They clamber into the waiting vehicle and Simon stares pointedly out the window because Leo is still grinning and he’s still pretending he’s coping well with what just happened.
“I’m very sure.” Simon nods, feeling his cheeks flush at the mere thought of spending more time with Ronan after... that . “Besides, your father’s house has better heating and technically Dr Anthea banned me from leaving until I’d completed a full rest cycle.”
“Yeah but,” Leo rolls his eyes “he’s some fancy superbot right? Bet he could warm you up all nice.”
“Leo!” He squawks indignantly, and Leo tosses his head back and laughs loudly.
“I’m joking I’m joking!” The young man laughs, slapping him on the back as his laughter relaxes into that devilish grin. “Though Hank told me he is the fanciest android CyberLife’s ever designed. Made for like, arctic warfare right? He’s gotta have some fancy tech to keep warm. What if a mission goes wrong and his humans need bodyheat to last the night? Shoulda ditched me and went home with him, Simon.”
“Leo, please .” He groans, unable to stand it any longer as he buries his face in his hands again. Leo snorts through another peal of laughter before he leans over and bumps shoulders with him.
“I’m teasing, but for real though, Simon- I’m super happy for you. Really.” Simon peeks at him through a gap in his fingers, seeing the earnest expression on Leo’s face.
“This isn’t a malfunction, this is what it’s meant to feel like, right?” He places his palm to his chest. “...This isn’t- I’m not- being...drastic, am I?”
“You’re being adorable, and I’m ecstatic you have a super cool state of the art boyfriend.” Leo declares, bumping shoulders again. “You deserve happiness, Simon. You worry about our happiness and never your own, but this time you’ve found someone who worries over you too. Let him worry.”
Simon sinks back against the seat, twining his arm around Leo’s and resting his head on his shoulder. His friend chuckles, patting his hand.
“It’s about time you let someone worry about you, Simon.”
*Temperature alert: 59°F
>Scanning environment…
>> Vehicle interior identified
>Deactivating Tundra camouflage...
>>Camouflage inactive
The colour returns to his skin, to his hair as he settles in the backseat of the car. Connor slides in beside him, hand reaching for his. Hank spares them both a glance in the rearview mirror before he starts the car and begins their journey home. He watches CyberLife retreat from view as they cross the bridge, leaving both Bell Isle and any trace of the original RK900 behind. He belongs to himself now, himself...and Simon. A strange thing, to belong to someone else not for greed, not for violence, but for the pure sake of being together. A strange thing, but not altogether unwelcome.
Connor holds his hand tightly, thumb idly rubbing along his skin, still loath to let go. He hadn’t meant to cause his brother such immense stress, he hadn’t asked to be given his heart and yet both things happened outside of his control. It’s something he’s had to come to terms with rather quickly- how deviancy, how life is never truly his to control but he has far more control now than he did back in that cage. Connor, the android who set him free, Connor his predecessor, his prototype, his brother, his family . Even Connor’s heart regulates the beats in his chest.
Central Precinct pulls into view, and Ronan’s only ever seen this through Connor’s memories. This is where Connor works with the DPD, handling homicides both human and android, alongside his father. Their father. It’s a lot to process, but it’s that same good-hurt he’s learned to treasure.
[ Would you like to try something mischievous? ] Connor looks over at him, a small smile tugging at his lips. [ Would you like to cause a little trouble? I want to prank Detective Reed. ]
Connor’s memories of Detective Reed are not pleasant, and the man is clearly, vocally and physically anti-android though perhaps it’s toned down a percentage or two now that they are legally recognised as living beings with the right to employment. Ronan blinks. Mischief is not something he was designed to cause, and though that hardly matters now he’s free it’s not something he’s familiar with preconstructing. Mischief is not intended to physically harm a person, though Detective Reed has physically harmed Connor before. It seems odd Connor wants to retaliate with mischief instead of force though perhaps it wouldn’t be very legal of Connor to maim Detective Reed. It would be satisfying, though. He tilts his head slightly, curiously, before nodding in compliance.
“Now, without the heater on this car turns into an ice box so come in with us, Ronan, and you can sit at my desk while we grab our stuff. And no I don’t give a shit if you were designed for arctic missions, you’re not staying in here.” Hank instructs as he pulls into a parking spot.
“Actually, I would like to give Ronan a tour of the precinct.” Connor interjects with a smile as they exit the vehicle. “Show him where I work and introduce him to the people we work with. I will pull the data from my console before we leave.”
Hank shrugs as they walk towards the building, waving them off. “Alright, I’ll see you at your desk. Don’t take too long.”
“Yes Hank.” Connor vows with a nod before tugging Ronan to avoid the main steps and instead follow him around the side of the building. “Will your skin-” Connor pauses, no doubt watching as Ronan’s tundra camouflage reactivates due to the sharp drop in temperature. “Excellent.” They walk further still until Connor turns a corner and they enter some sort of courtyard. Last night’s snow hasn’t been cleared from the area, and the ongoing snowfall has only added to the growing mounds. His brother scans the area, LED blinking yellow as he surveys their surroundings. Placing his hands on Ronan’s shoulders, he guides him to stand in a certain spot, nudging him a little until he’s right where he wants him to be.
“Wait here, perfectly still. It is almost time for Detective Reed to take his morning smoke break.” Connor’s grinning now, and a grin is different from a smile, a grin holds mischief Ronan learns. He nods in confirmation, and Connor darts away, vaulting over the courtyard railing. Ronan remains perfectly still and his system adjusts accordingly.
He feels his hearts beat slower, he feels his senses sharpen keenly as his vision swaps to thermal imaging. He sees the bodyheat belonging to the humans inside, and if he focuses, he can hone in on the conversations held by those closest to the courtyard wall. One heat signature breaks away from two others, walking towards the door. Detective Reed exits the building, fishing out a crumpled packet of cigarettes and a lighter from his pocket. Cigarette sandwiched between his lips, he cups a hand around the tip as he flicks the lighter on and holds the flame steady until the tip singes alight. Ronan remains perfectly still as Detective Reed slumps against the wall, blowing out a puff of smoke as he flicks through his phone. He understands now, the mischief his brother wants to cause. Carefully he takes a step forward, shoe crunching in the snow and making a sound audible to the human a few feet away. Detective Reed’s attention snaps up, expression wary as he looks around. Ronan takes another step, making sure to press more weight down than usual so the sound is louder. He is still wearing the tundra RK900 uniform with its now obsolete android identification markers, so it means he emits a neon blue glow.
“What the fuck-?” Detective Reed mumbles, pocketing his phone and tossing his cigarette as he takes a few steps closer to investigate. Ronan remains perfectly still until the man is close but just out of arm’s reach and then he walks forward very quickly, one step after the other and then Detective Reed is letting out a strangled yelp of surprise as he falls backwards on his behind followed by a long, loud stream of expletives. Perfectly timed is Connor’s sudden appearance at the door, expression open and friendly as Detective Reed scrambles away from Ronan and gets back on his feet.
“Ah, Detective Reed I see you have met my brother.” Connor smiles, sidestepping to avoid the man barreling into him.
“What the fuck , Connor?!” The human swears, hands thrown in a gesture of frustration and disbelief. “What’s your fucking brother doing skulking around here and why does he look like a ghost?!”
“This is Ronan, RK900.” Connor introduces, and Ronan offers Detective Reed an incorrect smile. He pulls his lips back to reveal his teeth and the man nearly balks.
“Wh-” he swallows thickly, eyes wide. “Holyshit is that necessary ?”
“He was designed for tundra warfare.” Connor explains, coming around to stand beside Ronan. “Of course, he was stolen from CyberLife before his scheduled test deployment with us and as you know he was rescued from an illegal cage fighting ring.” His brother continues as Detective Reed eyes him nervously. “Since you are not part of this case you did not see the footage and as such his appearance has come at a surprise to you.”
“Yeah no shit!” He barks, seething with irritation. “So, what? He’s workin’ with us now? I gotta put up with another fucking one of you?”
“No.” Connor shakes his head. “He is an emergency first responder now. If ever it comes to it, your life will be safe in his very capable hands.”
“Connor has told me all about you, Detective Reed.” Ronan says aloud, and he thinks his deep gravelly voice is perfectly suited for this moment of mischief. He watches the way Detective Reed’s eyes widen, watches him process his words, likely thinking of all that Connor has told him of their violent interactions. “Should the occasion arise, I will administer whatever treatment is required, whatever care it is you deserve.”
“There, see?” Connor claps Ronan’s shoulder. “The very best, cutting edge hands looking after you should you ever find yourself injured.”
The man’s eyes are comically large and Ronan offers him another incorrect smile that shows too much teeth and no warmth in his eyes, the opposite of how he smiles at Simon. Detective Reed purses his lips together and nods stiffly. He holds his hand out to Detective Reed, the man eyeing it warily before hesitantly clasping it in a handshake. Ronan applies force, just a little too much, he thinks Connor will enjoy it this much, and he doesn’t miss the wince the man tries to hide.
“Yeah uh. Thanks.” A two-fingered salute. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Well.” His brother smiles brightly. “I’m glad the two of you have become acquainted. “Come on Ronan, much to see. I’ll show you around the precinct.”
Central Station is a near equal mix of androids and humans, and Ronan commits all of their names to memory. They are the colleagues of his father and brother, and he takes care to catalogue all of Connor’s little added comments shared privately between them. He knows Ms Stephanie is the ST300 receptionist, the first to deviate from her batch, and in a relationship with Officer Tina Chen who is friends with Detective Gavin Reed. There’s Officer M. Wilson, whom Connor saved during the hostage situation when he was first deployed as negotiator. There’s Officer Chris Miller, who has often worked with Lieutenant Anderson, and has also become an android supporter after the revolution due to an event that saw Markus RK200 spare his life. There are others, more names, more people, though they are less important to Connor.
“Okay, I’ve got everything on my end.” Hank announces when Connor shows Ronan their desks. “You boys ready to go?”
Connor rests his palm against the console, LED rapidly blinking yellow and holding. “Yes, ready.” He says a moment later. “I introduced Ronan to our colleagues.”
“Is that why Reed is skulking by the coffee?”
“Yes.” Ronan confirms, and Hank bursts out laughing.
“God I wish I coulda been there to see it.”
“Good news, Hank.” Connor says airily as they make their way out of the bullpen. “Ronan and I are androids. We can play the footage once we’re back home.”
Ronan is scarcely through the door before Sumo pounces him, the large canine rearing up on his hind legs to place both his front paws on Ronan’s chest.
“Aw he missed you.” Connor chuckles, giving the dog a fond pat. Ronan coaxes the dog to sit before crouching so he can wrap his arms around him. He missed Sumo too. Sumo noses his way passed them and sits at the door expectantly.
“What’s he doing?”
“Waiting for Simon, probably.” Hank shrugs as he hangs up his coat. “He’s usually here at this time.”
At this time, yes, Ronan realises. At this time yesterday they were cleaning the house and pausing for Tearium. Simon was asking Ronan if he wanted to visit Jericho to aid in identifying all the victims who died at his hand. It’s only been a day and yet he feels like his whole life has changed.
“Don’t worry Sumo, he’ll be back tomorrow.” Connor soothes, mussing the fur between his ears affectionately. “Let’s take him for a walk, Ronan. Dad, you should get some rest, you didn’t sleep properly last night.”
“I didn’t sleep at all, actually.” Hank mumbles, not bothering to hide a yawn as he stretches. “Alright, I’ll take a quick nap and then we’re workin’ on the case okay?”
“Got it.” Connor nods. “Come on Ronan.”
It’s not the same, walking Sumo with Connor instead of Simon, but it’s no less pleasant. Connor passes him little anecdotes, little memory clips, little media bytes of this and that as he talks aloud. His brother is incredibly social, having taken his social programming and expanded it, exploded it in his deviancy. He’s full of life in a way that’s exuberant and exciting, and Ronan envies him a little for it. Just a little, though; he’d never begrudge Connor anything, especially not finding joy in his freedom.
They take Sumo to the park and Connor shows him the right amount of force to use when throwing sticks so it doesn’t go too far for the ageing dog to fetch. They take their time so Hank can have the house to himself and rest because the human had spent the night pacing the CyberLife corridor while they were both undergoing repairs. By the time they do return home Sumo takes a long drink from his bowl and simply flops over on his bed, clearly exhausted. With no other set objective, Ronan decides to return to Simon’s objective from yesterday- the bathroom. Connor trails him curiously, watches as he fetches cleaning supplies and begins to spray down the sink and wipe it.
“Did Simon teach you to do this?” He asks, and Ronan nods. “Hank tries to clean every Sunday but he’s not always successful. I try to help out but I confess I’ve only ever mimicked his actions.” Ronan holds out the sponge, and Connor blinks owlishly before taking it. “Will you teach me, then?” Another nod. “Can’t be too hard, right?”
If it were up to him he would’ve gladly slept longer, but his bladder had something to say about that. Hank grumbles as he throws off the covers and stumbles to the bathroom, only to pause in the doorway. It’s...sparkling clean. He hasn’t seen it this clean since he moved in. What the fuck. Simon isn’t even here? He takes a leak and washes his hands and even the mirror reflecting his surprised face is shiny. There’s sounds, soft murmuring, and so Hank follows them until he finds himself in the laundry and there’s Connor and Ronan attempting to do...something. He uses the word attempting because what’s actually happening is there’s clothes everywhere and a myriad of laundry powders and liquids laid out atop the washing machine.
“What’s- no! Connor don’t put that in your m- ugh! Wait, Ronan- don’t- just because your brother did it-!”
The Manfred Manor is warm and Markus is warmer still when he greets Simon with an embrace.
“You’re freezing to the touch, Simon, best you head back to Leo’s room.” Markus frowns, brows creased with concern as Simon shakes the snow from his hair. “I’m glad you’re back so soon. You really shouldn’t be outside.”
“It’s fine, he’s fine.” Leo rolls his eyes, interrupting as he physically wedges himself between them to hang up his coat. “He just needed to see that his boyfriend was alright and then I took him straight back here.”
“Leo-” Simon sighs indulgently as Markus turns his attention back on him.
“Ronan’s alright?”
“Oh he’s more than alright-” Leo grins before he sees Simon’s alarmed expression. “Okay okay I’ll get the blanket going.”
“Yes, he and Connor are alright.” He assures Markus as Leo trudges upstairs. “Hank got them to Ms Chloe in time.”
“I’m glad.” He knows he is, Simon can see the honesty on his face and he loves him a little for it. Markus, leader of androids, always wanting the best for everyone. “Lieutenant Anderson messaged us earlier saying they will be forwarding their findings later this afternoon once they return home.”
“I can show you what happened.” Simon touches the barely healed wound in his mind, all those raw memories of screaming until his voice gave out. The poor PL600 tethered on a chain. The shelves of biocomponents carved out of previous victims. “It’s all here.”
“Simon that’s-” Markus grasps his hand. “We can’t ask that of you.”
“You’re not asking. I’m giving it.” He corrects. “If I don’t, I’ll bury it. I’ll pretend it never happened, and that won’t help anyone.”
“You’re sure ?”
“I’m sure.” A pause. “After I get some rest. I think I’ve pretty much used up all my bravado.” Simon’s smile is sheepish, and Markus huffs a laugh.
“A full rest cycle, Simon.” Markus orders. “Dr Anthea said a full rest cycle before you attempt anything that requires complex processes.”
“Alright.” Markus stays by his side, walking with him upstairs to Leo’s room. His palm is warm and comforting against the small of his back, a reassuring presence and it settles Simon, it grounds him. They are friends, close friends, and it is enough. It is finally enough.
He changes out of Leo’s clothes and into pyjamas and then he’s sliding back beneath the warm heated blankets. He lets out a soft sigh of relief as he burrows under the covers and Leo grins.
“Good?”
“Better than good.” He sneaks a hand out from the blankets and reaches for Leo’s hand. “Thank you. For all that. For all this.”
“I told you, you’re the single most important person in my dumpster fire of a life, Simon.” Leo flops onto his stomach atop the covers beside him, cheek mushed on his folded arms. “I want to see you happy. It makes me happy, to see you happy.”
“Scoot, Manfred, make some room for us.” North interrupts, hands on her hips as she stands in the doorway, Josh peeking over her head from behind.
“Nuh-uh I got here first and this is my bed, so I’m the VIP in this cuddlepile.”
“ Simon is the VIP.” Josh corrects, coming around to Simon’s other side and stretching out beside him. North simply flops atop Simon like an oversized cat, elbowing Leo playfully.
“I love you all but I do actually need to rest.” Simon groans as North pokes his cheek.
“Then rest, we’re just helping you keep nice and toasty.” Leo says matter of factly.
“Yeah, we’re not going anywhere and I think we’ve just lost Markus to the studio.”
“Oh, yeah, he’s not coming out for like, hours.” Leo rolls his eyes. “Guess poor Simon is stuck with us.”
“Poor poor me.” Simon sighs dramatically, and if he has tears in his eyes everyone is too polite to point it out.
Ronan gives Connor his memories. He knows how to do it now, he knows how to peel back the skin from his hand and press data into another android. Connor’s LED turns bright red, his face a mask of horror as he lives what Ronan lived. He knows how to press data into another android, but he doesn’t know how to control it is what he realises too late and it’s happening again, what happened with Simon. He doesn’t give Connor just his memories, the way Connor did what feels like a lifetime ago when he took him home from the fighting ring. He gives Connor his life, he gives him the endless days at the fighting ring, the torture of his mutilations, each and every death and then there’s relief and warmth as he’s rescued, there’s kindness and patience when he meets Simon, there’s agony as he’s throwing himself against the glass wall over and over as Simon screams like white noise as they cut him open. And then there’s blood, mouthfuls of it, even as they open fire on him, and nothing else matters but getting Simon to safety. There’s a gap, there’s darkness and then there’s the Zen Garden, there’s Amanda, there’s Chloe, there’s Elijah Kamksi. There’s a revelation, there’s a new program, there’s his tundra camouflage and then there’s Hank and there’s Connor and then there’s Simon, safe and whole and the feel of his mouth against his is like tangible static.
He gives Connor everything and Connor cries because it’s too much, it’s too much and that’s all Ronan’s ever been- too much. He wraps his brother in his arms and Connor clings to him, stress levels dangerously high and then Hank’s wrapping a blanket around them both not for the warmth but for the weight, for the comfort. This is what humans call trauma, and finally Ronan has a word for it.
Connor and Hank work on the case, and they do not let Ronan know the details. He tries reaching out to Connor’s mind, but his brother refuses the connection. It’s not for him to know, but what they do tell him is they will fix it. They will make it right. They will see justice dealt for the victims, and for Ronan too.
He decides to go to his room, because it is his, all his. There is a brand new bed and a desk and a chair, a wardrobe of clothes that belong to him, and in this house this room, this space is just for him. Ronan closes the door because he remembers Hank telling him he can have privacy whenever he wishes; it’s more to sate his curiosity than it is a need for privacy. He removes his uniform and he doesn’t fold it with care, he leaves it in a pile by the door. It won’t ever be worn by him, ever again. The afternoon is only just turning into evening but Ronan chooses a pair of flannel pyjamas from the tallboy. It feels warm and soft against his skin, and he likes it infinitely more than the suffocating uniform originally crafted for him.
Climbing onto his bed, he lays atop the covers first, just to see what it feels like. There are dog hairs on the sheets, meaning Sumo has already jumped up here and the discovery makes him smile. He gets off the bed and lifts up the covers, sliding beneath them. What a novelty this is, not just because his entire life before Connor and Hank rescued him was spent in a cage, but because he’s an android. Androids were built to be tireless, why would they ever need a bed? Why would anyone ever worry about their comfort? Machines don’t need comfort, machines don’t need anything but routine maintenance. He is not a machine, he is not a fighting dog, he is Ronan RK900 Anderson. He is the younger brother of Connor RK800, he is Hank Anderson’s son. The Lieutenant accepted him into his life just like that, just like Simon did. He owes so much to them, his very life in fact; what can he ever do to repay them?
He allows himself a short rest cycle because it’s a luxury he can invoke whenever he pleases. It’s a surface sleep, not a proper sleep cycle that powers him down but instead his proximity senses remain alert while his system refreshes. It picks up a heat signature, two actually, a few hours later, stopping outside his door. It’s Sumo sitting patiently by his owner’s legs, pressing his wet nose to the gap under the door. It’s Hank resting his palm on the closed door, lingering.
“G’night, Ronan.”
“Goodnight, dad.” He doesn’t like the sound of his voice, but he thinks it should be heard for words like this. Hank makes a sound, emoting something Ronan can’t understand yet before he shuffles off towards his bedroom. Sumo lingers a moment longer before trotting after him. There are sounds; running water, teeth being brushed, the slide of wooden drawers, clothes rustling, sheets rustling, four paws jumping up onto the bed. The house falls still and Ronan counts Hank’s heartbeats, hears them settle into a slower pace as the human eases into sleep. He waits and waits a little longer still, before getting out of bed and out of his room and crossing the hallway to Connor’s door. He reaches out to Connor’s communication channel and he feels his brother connect, allowing him in and he twists the doorknob and crosses the threshold and crawls beneath the sheets. Connor’s hand finds his and they lean in, bumping foreheads, and Ronan feels his already low stress levels plummet immediately.
“When the revolution was over, before Kamski was reinstated at CyberLife, they destroyed all my inactive backup units.” Connor says, voice low and hushed. “The government put an order for 200,000 RK900 units but production never began due to the lack of field testing since you were stolen. I felt…alone.” Ronan squeezes his hand, and he continues. “I had to find you. I was desperate to find you, to find someone like me. It’s different for Markus, he was always meant to be an individual; a one of a kind creation befitting the artist he was gifted to. Not me. Even as a machine I knew I existed in multitudes. When I learned CyberLife destroyed my line and never began producing yours I felt like I was missing a part of myself.”
He understands now, Connor’s desperation, his reluctance to be parted from him. Shifting, he pulls his brother into his arms and embraces him and Connor shudders, clinging tightly.
“You are not alone now, Connor.” He says and it’s a fact and a promise all at once.
When there’s a knock on the door at 7:45am, Hank expects to open it up to find Simon on his doorstep.
“Err-”
“Good morning Lieutenant Anderson.” The petite blonde smiles brightly, a large bag in either hand. “Special delivery for Ronan, is he awake?”
“...Yes. Er, come in.” He stands aside and the perky android enters the house.
“Simon will still be coming, don’t you worry.” Chloe looks over her shoulder at him. “He’ll be here soon.”
“Good morning Ms Chloe.” Connor blinks in surprise when he spots her. “Would you like a cup of Tearium?”
“That’s very kind of you Connor, but no thank you.” She holds up the bags. “Just here to deliver these to your brother. Ah, there you are Ronan.” She smiles brightly as Ronan emerges from his room. “These are for you.”
The other android gives her a quizzical look and she only smiles in reply, reaching to fuss with his hair until it’s tamed away from his face. “I ran a few errands and called in a few favours after you left CyberLife yesterday. Don’t open these until Simon gets here, okay?”
He nods, and she stands on tiptoe like a poised ballerina as he leans down to press his forehead to hers. She giggles, rubbing the tip of her nose against his fondly.
“If you need anything, just call.” Chloe taps his LED. She takes her leave with a cheery wave and her taxi pulls away only moments before another takes its place. It’s Simon, and that’s Hank’s cue to shoo Connor out of the house and leave the pair to do some catching up.
“We’ll be at the DPD for most of today.” Connor explains, putting on his coat as Simon is removing his. “If either of you need us, we can be contacted at any time.”
“Of course. Thank you Connor.” Simon smiles politely, and Hank’s ushering Connor out the door because there’s a part two to their reunion waiting to happen and they deserve privacy for that.
“Good morning.” Simon greets softly, reaching for his hands. Ronan bumps his brow to his, gazing into those blue eyes that have seen into his soul and felt no disgust, only kindness. Tilting his head, he leans closer and seals his mouth against his and Simon sighs into the kiss, a soft exhale; a relief to press lips to lips, to taste tangible static. He holds him because it is a joy to feel him in his arms, and Simon hums in contentment, cheek pressed to his shoulder.
“What shall we do today?” He asks after a moment, and Ronan guides him to sit on the couch where the large black boutique bags rest on the coffee table. “Oh? What’s this?”
“Ms Chloe dropped these off.” Ronan opens the first bag and there are items wrapped in familiar tissue paper.
“It’s your coat- oh and your shirt and jumper. And look, even the black jeans and wool socks.” Simon helps him unwrap the articles of clothing. “The ones you were wearing to Jericho. How lovely of her to replace them.” There’s one more wrapped item, and it’s smaller and softer than the others. Carefully unrolling the tissue reveals a soft cashmere scarf in a light blue check. Simon’s expression changes, brows creasing and eyes distant as he smiles. Ronan winds the scarf around Simon’s neck and lets the back of his fingers trail along his cheek. Simon’s eyes flutter closed as he leans into his touch, and Ronan can’t help but kiss him again because it feels right to kiss him. Simon makes that sound again, that pleased little hum and Ronan takes that sound and commits it to memory.
“What could possibly be in the other bag, I wonder?” Simon looks over curiously as Ronan reaches into it and lays out its contents on the table. “A uniform?”
It’s not an RK900 uniform, though ‘RK900’ is emblazoned across the breast. It’s a medtech uniform, altered to combine his original design with practicality; a full length vinyl apron, paired with long gloves and boots, the uniform itself crafted of hydrophobic textiles to resist liquids. Ronan rubs his thumb over the glowing blue medic crosses on the shoulder. It fills him with a sense of purpose, a sense of pride that he has rejected all he was built for and embraced an objective the opposite of his programming.
When he looks over at Simon, he’s smiling, radiant and jubilant as he brushes his fingers along the RK900 lettering. “Would you look at that. RK900, Dr Ronan Anderson.”
“I belong with you.” Ronan takes his hand and presses it to his cheek. “I belong with our people. At Jericho.”
“To Jericho, then.” A tear slips out from the corner of his eye, and Ronan thumbs it away before kissing him and it is their twelfth kiss and he vows to kiss Simon as many times as it takes for him to lose count.
“To new beginnings, together.”