Marcus/Kyle fic -- As Much as I Ever Could

[hollycomb]

Title: As Much as I Ever Could
Fandom: Terminator Salvation
Pairing: Marcus/Kyle
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~30,000
Summary: AU -- Marcus survives, moves into the base and continues to be obsessed with protecting Kyle.



Marcus drags Connor to the helicopter, ready to get rid of him so that he can run back into Skynet and find Kyle. Connor's people can fucking leave without him if they're not willing to wait. The last thing he's expecting as he delivers Connor into the arms of his wife is Kyle's face peeking up over her shoulder. He's staring at Marcus with those giant eyes, and for a moment Marcus is sure that they are the only blue thing left in this ruined world. Marcus' eyes are blue, too, but not like that, not like Kyle's.

"Marcus!" Kyle says, and only then does Marcus believe what he's seeing, that Kyle is already here, already safe. Star is beside him, and Marcus lets out his breath for what feels like the first time since he watched that bastard machine take them. He climbs into the helicopter as it's taking off, and while Star only smiles at Marcus faintly, Kyle actually grabs him, then holds him by the shoulders as if he doesn't know what to do with him. He gapes at Marcus, his mouth hanging open.

"Should have known you'd be able to take care of yourself," Marcus says, not sure if Kyle can hear him over the noise of the helicopter. Then Skynet is, like, exploding. Marcus glances back at it briefly, then at Connor, who might be dying despite Marcus' efforts, then he looks again at Kyle, who is still staring at him.

"You're okay," Kyle says, so weakly that Marcus can't really hear him, he just reads his lips. He smirks.

"Mostly," he says, holding up his left hand, which has been melted down to the metal that he's made of now. Kyle's eyes somehow even get even wider, and then he frowns a little, touching the metal fingertips curiously. Marcus can feel Kyle's touch with his metal hand, which he didn't expect. Kyle lets go and leans back a bit, his frown deepening.

"Why do you - what happened to your hand?" Kyle asks. They're far enough now from the crumbling wreck of Skynet that Marcus can hear him speak. He sighs and sits against the wall of the helicopter. Kyle stays on his knees, watching Marcus with a suspicious look that makes him feel like shit.

"I learned some things about myself back there," Marcus says.

"You - you lost your hand?" Kyle slides over to Marcus and sits beside him, cautious but close. There's some exclamation of relief from the group of people who are surrounding Connor - maybe he's going to make it after all. Marcus doesn't expect to be thanked. Anyway, he doesn't need to be. Connor saved Marcus, too, and maybe he had some hand in helping Kyle and Star onto the helicopter, which means a hell of a lot more to Marcus than whatever Connor did to bring him back from the dead.

"Yeah, I lost my hand," Marcus says. "And pretty much everything else, too. It's kind of a long story."

"But." Kyle is frowning at Marcus' hand in a way that makes him want to hide it inside his sleeve. "That looks like - like one of the machines."

"I know. Look, I'll tell you all about it when we get wherever we're going, okay?"

Kyle nods, his expression softening. He smiles a little and tucks his arms into his lap. Marcus would have died back there if it meant saving Kyle. He's not sure why. Maybe just because Kyle saved him, once. But Connor did, too, and Marcus is nowhere near willing to die for that son of a bitch. Connor might have given him a chance, he might even grudgingly respect Marcus now, but Marcus is not big on forgiveness and he's still more than a little pissed off that Connor almost got Blair killed when she and Marcus tried to escape. He wonders if Blair will be there at the base when they arrive, if that's where they're headed.

"We did it," Kyle says. He pushes his shoulder against Marcus' and grins. "We got away, and we blew up their headquarters."

"Great," Marcus says. He doesn't care about anything but Kyle and Star's safety and the thought of seeing Blair again. "Does that mean we win?"

Kyle scoffs and rolls his eyes. "No," he says. "But it's a start. Do you think John Connor will be okay?" He cranes his neck to take a look at Connor, who is wincing as he reclines in his wife's arms. She's kissing his forehead and smiling down at him, her eyes wet with tears.

"Sure," Marcus says, though he has no idea. "For now. You know, you're pretty impressive, surviving this shit for as long as you have."

Kyle shrugs. He's staring at Marcus' hand again, his mouth thin with worry.

"Let me see that," he says, putting his own hand out, as if he's asking Marcus to pass him a pack of cards. Marcus wants to refuse, but then, for some reason, he doesn't. He puts his hand in Kyle's, and it's amazing, this shit they're remade him out of, because he can feel the softness of Kyle's skin, as if he's got a complex metal nervous system.

"Marcus," Kyle says, his voice shaking. "You - you're not-" He curls and straightens Marcus' metal fingers and strokes his cold, hard palm like he's performing some kind of scientific test. Frowning as if his findings are inconclusive, he looks up into Marcus' eyes, searching for something there. He seems to find it, and smiles sweetly.

"For a second I thought maybe you were a machine," he says, breathless and quiet, as if this is their secret. "But. I know you're not. You - you're too good."

Marcus grunts. Blair accused him of the same thing. She called him good just because he protected her. He wasn't like this before, in the real world, in the past. He didn't hurt people, not intentionally, but he didn't keep them safe, either. He let the chips fall where they may. Ever since he met Kyle, he can't imagine living that way anymore. Maybe it's just the goddamn apocalypse. It makes everything seem so fragile, especially Kyle, who is looking at Marcus like he still trusts him with his life, metal hand or not.

"I'm not a machine," Marcus says. He'll explain the complexities later, but for now, he knows this much is true. He's still got his fucking brain, even if it does turn into some diabolical database when he's plugged into the mother computer. He's still got his heart. As far as he knows, they haven't made any modifications there. It's a strange thing to leave behind, the heart. It's like they left it there because they wanted one weakness to remain, something that can still be hurt.

*

Kyle falls asleep against Marcus' shoulder during the flight back to the base, and Marcus rouses him when they arrive. Kyle blinks at him with confusion. Marcus can't believe how young and soft he still looks, despite everything he's been through.

"Are we here?" Kyle asks, his voice scratchy with sleep. Marcus helps him stand; he wonders about the last time Kyle had anything to eat, or even any water.

"I think so," Marcus says. They step out of the helicopter together, and Star scrambles out behind them, jogging forward to take the hand that Kyle offers her. Connor is on a stretcher up ahead, being carried into the base. The base looks different during the day, when Marcus is not being shot at as he runs away from it. He thinks again of Blair, and wonders what she'll be expecting from him. She wasn't what Marcus expected, wasn't hardened or closed up the way he'd thought women in this world might be. She curled up against him so easily.

Inside the base, Connor is given a hero's welcome. Marcus gets a lot of looks, but Connor's wife explains to everyone that he helped. Annoyed, Marcus just wants a quiet place to sit alone for awhile and think about everything that's happened. He wonders if Kyle wants the same thing. Maybe they could play cards, get some sleep, clean up a little. Before he can ask Connor's wife if this would be possible, Blair comes shoving through the crowd of onlookers, beaming at him. She hesitates for a moment, then throws her arms around his shoulders.

"Hey," she says, her voice tight with emotion as she clings to him. He gives her a squeeze and settles his hands on her hips to push her back a little, so he can breathe. Not that he has lungs anymore. Ha.

"Thanks," Marcus says, because he doesn't know where else to start. She laughs.

"Yeah, okay," she says. "Back 'atcha. Thanks for surviving."

"Woulda been kind of hard not to. Considering." He holds up his metal hand and she touches it tenderly. Marcus glances over at Kyle, who is staring at he and Blair, looking dazed.

"Hey, can we get some water for the kids?" Marcus says, stepping out of Blair's arms. "And something to eat? They've been locked up in Skynet's headquarters, so."

"Of course," Blair says, turning to a short, stocky man who is standing behind her. "Benny, how about some oatmeal and water? Maybe some jerky?" She turns back to Marcus and smiles at him. "Do you - need food?" she asks, tilting her head curiously.

"Guess not," Marcus says. He's not sure why this depresses him. It should be a relief. The guy Blair barked her orders to - Benny - stares at Marcus hatefully before disappearing into the crowd.

"I'm still not too popular around here," Marcus says, hoping that Blair will take a hint and show him a place where he can be alone. She shrugs.

"They'll learn to love you," she says. Marcus doubts that's true. He looks back to Kyle, but he's gone. Panic strikes through him - God, what if he's going crazy? What if he only hallucinated Kyle in the helicopter, what if he's still back at Skynet? But Skynet is gone, blown to bits. He kneels down to Star and takes her shoulders.

"Where's Kyle?" he asks. She turns and points toward a narrow hallway that leads back into the base. Marcus nods and pats Star's head before walking in the direction she indicated.

"Hey," Blair shouts, and he turns back. She grins. "Where the hell are you going?"

"This kid, he needs to eat something," Marcus says, and he heads down the hallway without further explanation.

*

After ten minutes of frantic searching, Marcus finds Kyle sitting on the floor near what appears to be a laundry room. He looks as if he's close to passing out, his chin tucked to his chest, and Marcus yanks him up with a growl. He expects Kyle's head to flop back lifelessly, but he's alert and awake, his dirty cheeks streaked with tear tracks.

"What the hell are you doing?" Marcus asks. "Come and have some food, you -"

"I'm not hungry," Kyle says, wrenching himself out of Marcus' grip. "Now are you going to tell me about your hand?"

Marcus scoffs and looks down at the metal hand as if he needs to consult in order to remember the story. It's all becoming a bit fuzzy already, the things he learned when he was plugged into the Skynet hive mind.

"Don't you want to eat first?" Marcus asks. He's terrified that Kyle will hate him for being a machine. Ever since he got here it's been pretty clear to him that if he loses Kyle Reese, he won't have anything. Star is just a kid. Blair is confused, looking for a love story to color the bleak landscape of her small world. Kyle is something else. A real ally.

"I said I wasn't hungry." Kyle wipes at his face and sniffles a little. Marcus has no idea why he might be crying - profound relief? "Now tell me."

"Come in here," Marcus says with a sigh, dragging Kyle into the laundry room by his elbow. The room is small and humid, everything reeking of industrial grade soap. Kyle stares at Marcus, waiting for an explanation. Marcus would really love to sleep, though he supposes he doesn't need that anymore, either. He wonders if he'll even be able to do it by choice.

"Remember when we met and I didn't know what was going on?" Marcus says. "I didn't know what the machines were, or Skynet, or any of that?"

"Yeah," Kyle says. His voice is soft and curious, his eyes red-rimmed from exhaustion, or maybe from crying. "I thought you were an idiot," he says, smiling sheepishly.

"Well, maybe I was, but I'd also just woken up, sort of. Back in 2003, before the bombs fell, before Judgment Day, I donated my body to science. Never mind why." He'll tell Kyle that part of the story later. Maybe. He doesn't really want Kyle, the only person who's ever looked at Marcus like he doesn't expect him to eventually fuck everything up, to know what he was like, once.

"They, they made a machine out of me," Marcus says. He holds up his hand, and Kyle actually flinches. "But I'm not - it's still me. Mostly. I mean, I've got my own brain. And my own heart. The rest is, like. Just a metal skeleton. That's all."

Kyle shakes his head, frowning. "But why?" he asks. "Who - Skynet did this to you?"

"Well. Sort of. And they wanted me, they wanted me to help them kill Connor. Without knowing what I was doing - they wanted me to lead him back to their headquarters. Don't look at me like that - it doesn't make any fucking sense to me, either. But they failed, Connor's okay, you're okay, and I'm here, I'm a free agent now."

Kyle stares at Marcus for a long time, as if he's working out a math problem. Then he sighs tremendously and picks up Marcus' hand to reexamine it, again touching every metal fingertip.

"Who was that girl?" he asks, muttering.

"Huh?"

"That lady who hugged you."

"Oh - Blair? Yeah, I met her when I was looking for you."

Kyle lifts his head, and there's something sharp and needy in his eyes that makes Marcus uncomfortable. He takes his hand back.

"You were looking for me?" Kyle says.

"Yeah, of course I was. What'd you expect? That's why I was there in Skynet, that's how they got me where they wanted me. They took you."

It's still kind of hard to say. They took you. Five seconds of chaos, Marcus' fumbling attempts to stop the machines, and then Kyle was just gone. Marcus hadn't expected to react the way he did, to want nothing but to regain Kyle at any price, no matter how long it took or where he had to go do it. Being locked up in Connor's base was the worst experience of his life, not because of the pain or the hell of looking down at what should have been his body and seeing a metal cage, but because he was wasting time, losing Kyle with every passing second.

Kyle pushes his lips together and looks at Marcus' metal hand. Marcus knows he wants to hold it again, to examine it exhaustively. He almost holds it out for Kyle to take, but stops himself.

"Come on," Marcus says. "Let's go eat something." Maybe he can chew and swallow, just to make Kyle feel more comfortable, maybe he can pretend to still be mostly human. But he is, he must be. He still feels human, confused and hopeless.

"You're not a machine," Kyle says, looking up into Marcus' eyes. "I know you're not."

"Right, I'm not. I've just got some metal parts."

Kyle nods slowly. "Maybe they can redo the skin on your hand," he says.

"I doubt it. But it makes me look kind of bad ass, right?" Marcus holds up the hand and wriggles his metal fingers, then feels like an idiot and drops it down to his hip again. Kyle shakes his head, and Marcus is actually kind of hurt by the thought that Kyle doesn't like the hand after all, but then he realizes that Kyle isn't answering his question. Kyle's eyes are wet again, and he makes a weird, sorrowful, bird-like noise as he leans forward to put his arms around Marcus' shoulders and pull him close.

"Oh," Kyle says, and Marcus waits for more, but that's all there is, aside from some sniffling and Kyle's wet face pressed to his neck. Marcus wraps his arms around Kyle's skinny frame and lets Kyle hold on to him for a long time, squeezing Kyle a little when his shoulders jump with silent sobs. Finally, Marcus can't stand to listen to the poor kid's stomach growl any longer, and he takes him to get something to eat. He's kind of sorry to end the thing that they'd been wallowing in, just the two of them in the quiet of the empty room. It's rare, that kind of peace, here in the apocalypse. Maybe it's rare anywhere.

*

Marcus eats, wishing he didn't have simulated taste buds as he chokes down instant oatmeal that probably went out of date back at the turn of the century. He's eating mostly just to reassure Kyle, who keeps sneaking looks at him. Blair haunts the dining area, smiling at Marcus from across the room. He wonders if she wants to be fucked, because she's sure looking at him like she does. Before prison, he would have thrown his pants down and done it right here if she'd let him, but things changed behind bars. The last person Marcus had any kind of feelings for was a man, or maybe a boy, because he was only nineteen. Someone he tried and failed to protect. He glances at Kyle, needing to check, again, all the time, to make sure he's really here, really safe.

After eating, Marcus and Kyle are shown to a storage closet that is to be their quarters. Apparently the bunks are full, which doesn't make any sense, because these motherfuckers must die every day. Marcus thinks it's more likely that the other men don't want him sleeping among them, and that's fine by him. If they put Kyle up with him just to give their story about the lack of bunks credulity, that's fine, too, because he doesn't trust those people with this kid. Star is ushered off with some old lady who tagged along from Skynet, and Marcus is glad to be alone with Kyle, even in the cramped quarters they've been given. He can barely stretch out fully on the dirty old mattress he and Kyle have been provided with, but it's enough just to have a quiet room and Kyle yawning beside him.

"I'm glad they let us stay together," Kyle says, grinning over at Marcus, his eyes already dropping shut. Marcus wonders when he last slept.

"Get some sleep," Marcus says, but Kyle doesn't need any direction. His eyes are shut and he's sighing against the mattress. Maybe tomorrow Marcus will steal a pillow for him. At least a blanket. He watches Kyle's body fold under the weight of his exhaustion, his shoulders slumping and his lips parting. Marcus tries not to think of that boy he knew in prison. Andy. Someone way too soft for the world he'd landed in. Fuck. But this is different. It's not like Marcus wants Kyle the way he came to want Andy. Kyle is precious and holy and Marcus would never touch him. Except that he already has, and he wants to again, wants to touch that impossibly soft cheek while Kyle sleeps. Marcus rolls onto his back, and he's grateful as hell when there's a knock on the door, an excuse to think about something else.

Blair smiles at him when he pulls the door open quietly, careful not to wake Kyle. Marcus slips out into the hallway and shuts the door just as carefully, letting out his breath. He's more than ready to be distracted by Blair, who is already touching his ass.

"I was afraid I'd never see you again," she says. She's beautiful, too beautiful for this place, like Kyle. Marcus is goddamn lucky to have found them both, and when Blair hugs him he pulls her closer, the warmth of her body an instant comfort.

"C'mere," she whispers, pulling at Marcus' hand, but he won't let her lead him away.

"I can't leave him alone," he says, flicking his head toward the storage room door. Blair raises an eyebrow.

"He'll be okay," she says. "It's safe here."

"No way," Marcus says, maybe a little too sharply. "I don't trust these men. He's - Kyle - he's weak, he's small."

"I bet he could take care of himself," Blair says, her eyes warming, as if she's charmed by the fact that Marcus feels protective of Kyle.

"Look," Marcus says quietly, drawing her closer. "I don't even know - if those parts work anymore."

Blair touches Marcus' face, giving him a sympathetic look. She pushes her lips together and places her hand on his chest, over his heartbeat.

"You think I just want you for sex?" she says.

"I don't know what you want. I'm just saying."

"We could find out together," Blair says softly. She reaches down and flattens a hand over Marcus' cock. He hasn't gotten hard since he woke up in the future, and he's actually pretty terrified that he won't be able to, but there's a familiar stirring when Blair begins to massage him gently, and he groans under his breath with relief as he begins to stiffen up. Blair beams at him as if she's proud.

"See," she whispers, standing on her tiptoes to breathe against his lips. "Nothing to worry about."

He kisses her then, breathing harshly into her mouth, suddenly so glad to be alive. They stumble around a corner and find an empty laboratory, and he fucks her while she sits on the edge of a table, her legs spread out around him and her head tipped back, eyes shut, mouth open. She's quiet except for a few very low moans, and she feels so good, so human and real and warm. Marcus comes with a growl, pulling her to him so that he can smell her hair as his orgasm rips out of him. That's one thing he always missed in prison. He came to appreciate a hard cock and a tight asshole, but there were little things, like the smell of a woman's hair, that couldn't be replaced by anything he could find on a man.

When they're through she wants to kiss him for a long time, and he allows it, until he starts to grow too worried about Kyle. He gives her a last, slow kiss against the side of her neck, winks at her and leaves her as she's refastening her pants. When he returns to the storage closet and lies down beside Kyle he feels guilty about something, but he's not sure what it is. Guilty that he fucked Blair? That he left her alone so he could come back here and sleep beside Kyle? Maybe it's something more complicated than that. He feels like he owes them both something that he doesn't know how to give.

He rolls toward the wall and listens to Kyle's breathing, which is barely audible, but enough to make Marcus remember sleep, and to fall happily into it.

*

When he wakes up, no way to know what time it is, Kyle is clinging to him, lying against his back with his hand tight over Marcus' hip. For awhile Marcus just lies there, taking deep breaths and staring at the wall. There are noises from beyond the closed door, heavy footsteps and conversation. It must be morning, unless these people never sleep. Marcus can't imagine what he'll do when he leaves this room. He can feel the warm push of Kyle's breath against the back of his t-shirt, and it makes him feel peaceful, surrendered.

He rolls away with a groan, turning onto his stomach. Kyle wakes instantly and blinks at him with confusion. This is only the second time Marcus has seen him sleepy, not angry or terrified. The kid is the only real wonder of this burned out world. Marcus wouldn't have survived here for ten minutes without his computer-enhanced brain and metal skeleton. Kyle is so soft, just skin and bones.

“You were gone,” Kyle says. “Or did I dream that?”

“You dreamed it,” Marcus says, and then he realizes that Kyle is talking about last night, when Marcus stepped out to fuck Blair. Kyle smiles and laughs a little, under his breath.

“I'm so glad you're here,” he says, whispering, as if someone else is listening.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. You don't know. How it's been.”

Marcus can imagine. A teenager with only a little kid who doesn't speak for company. Jesus. That's the other thing: Kyle seems to be relatively sane. It's the real miracle of his survival.

They leave the room and are directed toward the showers, which are communal and not empty. Marcus feels strange washing skin that isn't really his, and it takes until he's rubbing soap over himself for him to realize that his skin has regenerated over his metal hand.

“Hey,” he says to Kyle, turning his hand over and then again, looking for seams. “Check it out.”

“Oh, wow!” Kyle beams and takes Marcus' hand in his, running his fingers over the new skin. Marcus looks over his shoulders, checking to make sure no one is watching. The last thing he needs around here is another reputation. He's been trying to block Kyle's body from view since they came in here, because there aren't a lot of women around and he knows exactly how things get between men when that's the case.

“Now, Pinocchio, you're a real boy,” Marcus says, taking his hand back. Kyle looks up in confusion and Marcus laughs. “Shit, never mind. You never saw any Disney movies, did you?”

“Never saw any movies at all,” Kyle says. “But my dad told me about some.”

“Hurry up,” Marcus says, handing him the soap. “Let's get out of here.” He tries not to look at Kyle himself, but the scars are hard to miss. It's not fair that Marcus can grow new skin overnight while Kyle has to keep his scars forever.

They report to Connor, who separates them. Kyle is to assist Dr. Something in the research lab, while Marcus has to report to the hangar to help repair aircraft. Marcus doesn't like being separated from Kyle, but Connor seems protective of him, too, and Marcus trusts him to keep Kyle safe. He gives Kyle a hard pat on the shoulder before heading for the hangar and Kyle looks up at him with subdued panic before following Connor away.

The work day passes slowly and most of the other guys get on Marcus' nerves. Blair comes by at one point to smile at him suggestively, and he knows she'll be back at his door tonight. It's fine by him, but he's not sure he's going to want her there every night, and he's worried that it's because he doesn't want to lie to Kyle again, to tell him that he only imagined that Marcus was gone.

At sunset, Marcus stands at the edge of the hangar and watches the ruined sky change. He's sore from working all day, which doesn't make sense. Why would the assholes who designed him leave him with the ability to feel pain, to want food, and sleep, and sex? He's thinking about this when someone comes up behind him and claps him on the shoulder, and he jumps, half-ready to fight, but it's just Kyle.

“Geez.” Kyle grins. “Kinda tense, huh?”

“Don't sneak up on me,” Marcus says, grumbling, embarrassed.

“Sorry. I just wanted to see if you were hungry.” He takes a piece of jerky from the pocket of his jacket. “This is the good stuff, I think. Your friend Blair gave it to me.” A pause. “She's nice.”

“Yeah. You keep that for yourself. They treating you okay in that lab?”

“Uh-huh. I don't really know why Connor wants me there, though. I'd rather be out here with you, learning how to fix stuff.”

“What do they have you doing?”

“Nothing much. Dr. Yune was talking about time travel.” Kyle grins. “He says it's already been invented, in the future. They have evidence, or whatever. I don't really get it, to be honest with you.”

“Time travel. Jesus. You just let me know if anyone gives you a hard time.”

“No one's going to give me a hard time.”

“Bullshit. Just watch out.”

Kyle laughs under his breath and leans beside Marcus at the edge of the hangar, chewing his jerky. They watch the sun disappear, and when Kyle presses another strip of jerky into Marcus' hand he accepts it.

“What?” Marcus says, because Kyle is grinning kind of strangely, his eyes on the horizon.

“Nothing. I just think it's funny that you're worried about me.”

“Why, 'cause you made it on your own for so long? Fine, but machines are one thing. People are something else.”

“Why would somebody here want to hurt me?”

“Men get lonely.” Marcus regrets saying so, and curses under his breath. The jerky has an unforgiving texture, making his teeth ache. Kyle stares at him until Marcus looks back.

“Well, it's true,” Marcus barks. “Don't look at me like that. Just - stay close to me. Like you are now. I'll take care of you.” He curses himself again, because he didn't mean to say that. Kyle is blushing.

“I'm a man, too, you know,” Kyle says, mumbling.

“You're sixteen.” Marcus doesn't want to think about what the fuck Kyle meant by that. Maybe he's just offended at the presumption that he needs taking care of. Yeah.

“Seventeen,” Kyle says. His gaze, shy and expectant, is burning against Marcus' cheek. Marcus gives him a steely look and Kyle wilts a little, his eyes dropping away.

“Last time I asked, you were sixteen.”

“Well, it's my birthday today.”

Marcus laughs, thinks he's joking, but Kyle is still staring at the floor like Marcus has just smashed his birthday cake, so maybe he's serious. He reaches down and takes Kyle's chin in his hand, lifting his face. Kyle's eyes are watery, but not wet. Marcus is definitely kind of fucked.

“You don't have to ask me to stay close to you,” Kyle says, his voice breaking, making him sound barely thirteen for a moment. “I want to anyway.”

“Good.” Marcus leaves it at that and walks back into the hangar, his breath hard and measured. Kyle follows him all the way back to their room. If they had something to do, a pack of cards or even a fucking book, Marcus would be able to resist, but there's nothing in the room except Kyle and the bed, and Kyle's hands are in Marcus' shirt, and he's whimpering against Marcus' lips as he tries to get him to kiss back.

“Please,” Kyle whispers. “I know you want to.”

“You don't know shit.” Marcus takes Kyle's head in his hands and holds him still. His fingers are tight over Kyle's temples, and he can feel the throb of Kyle's heartbeat there. Kyle is panting; he looks terrified.

“Take care of me,” he says, blinking tears, sniffling. “I need it.”

“You don't even know what 'it' is. I fucking hope.”

Kyle smiles a little, lips trembling. “I just know I want you - on me. In me.” His voice pinches up to almost nothing. Marcus groans, licking his lips, wishing he wasn't so goddamn hard for this, and that he was more surprised by Kyle's begging. Now it feels like he always knew this would happen. He wipes Kyle's cheeks dry with his thumbs.

“This isn't going to end well,” Marcus says, lowering his face halfway to Kyle's.

“Yes, it is,” Kyle says. He puts his palm over Marcus' crotch, cautious, testing. Marcus jerks his chin to the side, his eyes closing as Kyle's fingers move on him timidly.

“Please,” Kyle whispers against Marcus' mouth. “Please, please.” He kisses Marcus' closed lips so softly, begging to be taught how to do more. Marcus lets out a shuttered breath and opens his eyes. He puts his forehead against Kyle's, still holding Kyle's face in both hands, his thumbs over Kyle's high cheekbones.

“You look like a fucking angel,” Marcus says. “No one should be allowed to touch you. Least of all me.”

“But I need it, God, please, I need to be t-touched.” More tears; they tickle down the sides of Marcus' thumbs, hot against his palms. “Only by you, you can ha -have me, I'm - mmph.”

Marcus should go easy on him, take it slow, but he can't help it: he licks Kyle's lips apart and pushes his tongue deep into Kyle's mouth, tasting him, swallowing his helpless moans whole. Kyle's mouth is so wet for him, his sweet little tongue meeting Marcus' clumsily, eagerly, and Marcus believes it more than he's ever believed anything, drunk on the taste of Kyle already: the kid needs to be touched. He needs Marcus to touch him, make him feel good, hold him, hide him, protect him. Marcus should have stolen a blanket. His coat will just have to do.

“Tell me what you want,” Marcus says, speaking into Kyle's mouth. Their eyes are locked as their chests heave together, Kyle's hands shaking on Marcus' sides. “Tell me.”

“I - I want - like it was that day on the rooftop, when the h-hunter killer - and you were on top of me. I just want you on top of me, holding me down.”

That can certainly be arranged. Marcus guides Kyle down to the mattress, maybe not as slowly as he could have; Kyle bounces a little against it, against Marcus, who flattens him there. He kisses Kyle deeply, moaning into him when their erections grind together, Kyle's hips bucking wildly, his teeth scraping Marcus' lips as he whimpers. Marcus is relentless, needing this pretty fucking badly himself, and he grinds against Kyle's cock, making him cry and thrash and finally come, his whole body wracked by it, arching as he sobs it out. Kyle's hands are pinned under Marcus', pressed to the mattress over his head, and he squeezes Marcus' hands tightly as he rides his orgasm out, twitching under Marcus' weight, his eyes shut and his head lolling back before he lifts his face to press his hot cheek to Marcus' mouth. Marcus gives him what he needs, kissing Kyle's cheeks, licking up his tears.

“Yes, yes, yes,” Kyle whispers breathlessly. “Yes, oh, thank you.”

“Don't mention it,” Marcus says, grunting the words out as he ruts against Kyle's trembling thigh, thinking about being inside him, how that tight, perfect heat is gonna bring him to tears. He growls when he comes, seeing white, his hands so tight around Kyle's that it feels like he's holding both their heartbeats in his palms.

“Yeah,” Kyle whispers in Marcus' ear as Marcus' body jerks with his orgasm. “Yeah, God, yeah.”

Marcus laughs crazily, dizzy, feeling like he could sleep for days. He hides his face against Kyle's cheek.

“You like watching me come?” he says. Kyle's arms close around Marcus' shoulders, and he pushes a hand into Marcus' hair, soothing his fingers through it as if Marcus is the one who needs to be comforted after what just happened.

“I like it,” Kyle says, his voice small, embarrassed. He wraps both legs around the small of Marcus' back and sighs heavily. “You look like a fucking angel,” he whispers. Marcus laughs.

“Okay. Sure. Happy birthday, by the way.” Marcus rolls onto his side, shrugging his jacket off, flushed as if he's one hundred percent human, sweating. Kyle burrows against Marcus' chest with another contented sigh, and Marcus drapes his jacket around Kyle's shoulders, arranging it over him before closing Kyle into his arms.

“I'm gonna get you a real blanket,” he says as he strokes Kyle's hair. Kyle grins and looks up at him.

“You've got freckles,” Kyle says, touching Marcus' cheek.

“They're not real.” Marcus isn't sure why he said that, feels bad. Kyle frowns a little and leans up to press a very soft kiss to Marcus' cheek, the tip of his tongue darting out to lick over the simulated freckles that the machines felt the need to leave there when they remade him, just under his eye.

“Yes, they are,” Kyle says. He drops back down to press his face to Marcus' chest, closing his eyes. Marcus sighs and pulls Kyle closer. His hair smells pretty fucking good, so good that Marcus leaves his face buried in Kyle's curls as he drifts off to sleep. He knows from experience that this is what it's like to be completely fucked: you're so far gone that you don't even care. You're glad.

*

Marcus is conscious of the clockwork efficiency of his body even as he sleeps, can feel systems recharging and sub-programs running, the cold come in his underwear being detected and considered, his metal components quietly displeased by the phenomenon. Meanwhile, Kyle is a warm, helpless bundle in Marcus' arms, whimpering and clinging in his sleep, his nose pushing up under Marcus' chin. Marcus wants to take him away from here, to someplace safe, but there's no place like that anymore.

There's a knock on the door and Marcus is awake in an instant, the grogginess of sleep reduced to the blink that it takes a computer to return from its screen saver when it's mouse is nudged. He sits up on an elbow and evaluates the situation, human heart pounding. The knock comes again, and the softness of it tells him that it's just Blair. He sighs with relief and twists out of Kyle's grip.

“Marcus,” Kyle says, whining his name out softly, his hand still closed around the hem of Marcus' t-shirt. His eyes are closed, but he seems to have his own fine-tuned awareness of the world around him, even while sleeping.

“It's okay,” Marcus whispers. He kisses Kyle over his temple, where he can see fine blue veins beneath his pale skin. “Go back to sleep.”

Marcus goes to the door and steps out quickly, Blair smiling and already heading toward the lab where they fucked yesterday. Marcus reaches out and grabs her hand, pulling her back.

“I can't leave the kid,” he says. “It's his birthday.”

Blair laughs, then frowns a little when she sees that Marcus is serious.

“So, what, you're in there eating cake and playing pin the tail on the donkey? He won't miss you for ten minutes.”

“I - listen.” Marcus flattens his back to the door. He probably should fuck Blair, get it out of his system, let Kyle remain a virgin until - until what? Like somebody better is going to come along, someone who will treat him as carefully as Marcus will, hold him afterward, watch the door while he recovers?

“There's just a lot going on,” Marcus says, feeling pathetic. He's rejected women before, but none like Blair. “I don't know if I should be doing all this with you. Right now.”

“All this? It's sex, Marcus. It's not that complicated. Not for me, anyway.” She looks at the closet door and sighs. “Is everything alright with him?”

Marcus isn't sure what she's asking.

“Yeah,” he says. “He's fine. He's just been on his own for a long time.”

She frowns a little and his heart pounds faster. She and the others might try to take Kyle away from him. He can understand why they'd want to. Hard to believe that no one could take better care of Kyle than he can, but he knows it's true, feels it deep in the human parts of him that remain.

“You really care about him, don't you?” Blair says, her features softening. “Well, of course you do. You were going to walk right into Skynet headquarters for him. And you did, you got him back.” She smiles. “He came to talk to me this morning. Asked a ton of questions about you. Wanted to hear the whole story of how you and I met. How'd he get so sweet, growing up in a world like this?”

“Beats the hell out of me. Listen, is there someplace where he can clean up with a little privacy? I don't want Connor's fucking foot soldiers, you know. Getting any ideas.”

Blair barks out a laugh, covering her mouth with her hand. Marcus scowls and she waves her hand through the air apologetically.

“God, you've probably got a point,” she says. “It's just - cute, or something, you thinking about that. But yeah, there's a shower the women use, Connor's wife and me, a handful of others. We're an endangered species around here.”

She gives him a meaningful look and he quirks his mouth, thinking about how easy it would be to just take her around the corner and fuck her like he did last night, but she deserves more than that.

“I'm kind of fucked up,” he says. “So. You're better off.”

“Haven't heard that line since the apocalypse,” Blair says.

“Listen, uh.” Marcus is ready to change the subject. “Where can I get blankets, maybe a pillow or something? For the kid? Some clean clothes.”

She stares at him for a moment, maybe half-understanding, then smiles.

“I'll show you,” she says. “Bring him. The women's shower's free, on account of Kate being in labor. Pretty much all the chicks in the base are huddled around her, helping.”

“Jesus. Is she going to be okay?”

“I think so. I can't - I, uh. I've seen a delivery go bad, before. My sister. So. That's why I'm not there.”

Marcus puts a hand on her shoulder, and she picks it up, bringing it to her lips for a kiss.

“What happened to the metal?” she asks, stroking her fingers over his knuckles.

“Skin grew back. Happened overnight.”

“Shit. Must be nice.”

“I guess. Not really. I'll get Kyle.”

Blair shows them the supplies, which are located in the laundry room they wandered into the day before, and then the private shower. She leaves them there, Kyle still half-asleep and Marcus feeling uneasy, thinking of Connor's wife screaming through labor pains. He turns the water on for Kyle and laughs; it's much warmer than the icy spray back in the communal showers.

“Stay with me,” Kyle says, catching Marcus' sleeve as he starts to walk out of the shower. It looks like it used to be a supply closet, a shower head and drain specially rigged into it for Connor's wife. Evidence of the women who use it is lined up along a shelf at the back: shampoo and pinkish soap, scavenged things that have been secreted away. Marcus pulls off his clothes while Kyle stands under the water, yawning.

“Blair likes you,” Kyle says as Marcus rubs soap over his back. “That's why she showed you this place.”

“Yeah, well. She's my friend.”

Kyle says nothing for awhile, watching the soap foam around the drain. Marcus imagines Connor building this for his wife, to protect her from the others, because she's special, someone who deserves it. He imagines Kate offering it to the other women so that they could feel safe, too. These people looked at him with such hatred when they saw what he was. He can't really blame them.

“That feels good,” Kyle says softly. Marcus tries not to stare at him, even now, but he can't miss Kyle's hardon when he turns to press it against Marcus' thigh, looking up at him expectantly.

“Just relax,” Marcus says. He glances at the door of the room that leads into the shower. Blair said they'd be okay, but he feels nervous, probably shouldn't have gotten into the shower with Kyle. He looks down at Kyle, who's staring up at him, lips parted, worshipful. Marcus laughs and kisses his wet face, makes him smile.

“I think everything's going to be okay now,” Kyle says, whispering. Marcus sighs. He can feel Kyle's ribs when he runs his hands down over his skinny chest.

“Don't jinx it,” Marcus says. He hopes that Kyle is right, that Marcus won't be able to feel Kyle's ribs anymore in a few months, that Connor will have another breakthrough in the war against the machines. Time travel, okay. Why the fuck not. Marcus pulls Kyle against him and holds him under the water, wishing he could believe it will all be okay, that there's not some unforeseen darkness already closing in on them.

They dry off and dress in the clothes they took from the supply room, their old ones spinning in one of the washing machines that Kyle seems to be afraid of. Marcus doesn't mind new clothes, especially since his last set was stolen from a corpse before pristine scrubs were installed by the machines, but Kyle seems uncomfortable, itching at the collar of his t-shirt and adjusting the crotch of his baggy pants. Marcus drapes the resistance coat Connor gave to Kyle around Kyle's shoulders. It fits him like a tent, but Kyle is less fidgety once he has it on, pulling the flaps around him.

“Do you think Connor will let me fight with the others?” Kyle asks as they walk back to the room. “With you?”

“I don't know.” Marcus hopes not, but he doesn't say so. Kyle is an idealist, and he'll always want to flatten himself under a tank for some goddamn cause, apocalypse or not. Marcus knows the type. His brother was the same way, dove straight into the hereafter without blinking, without regret. For the fucking cause. Marcus thought he could help, keep Bobby safe, but he only helped him into his grave.

Back in the room, Kyle is as antsy as anyone who has just discovered sex, licking at Marcus' neck, writhing against him and laughing self-consciously. Marcus feels like slowing down a little, mostly because he's thinking about Connor's wife. He pins Kyle to the mattress, but Kyle just ruts up against him, moaning happily.

“Hey,” Marcus says. “You should sleep.”

“Why? I will, just, just -”

“Calm down. You'll mess up your new clothes.”

“I can take them off,” Kyle says. They've got blankets now, even a thin little pillow. Kyle looks princely with his head resting on it, his curls clean and damp. Marcus kisses him between his eyes.

“Connor's wife is in labor,” he says. “Blair told me.”

“Oh.” Kyle's face changes immediately. “Is she okay?”

“I think so. Blair will come and tell us eventually.”

Kyle is quiet for a moment, still beneath Marcus, then he's pushing his face up against Marcus', looking to be kissed. Marcus gives him what he wants, licking the clean soap smell from his soft skin. Kyle moans just a little, deep in his throat, and hooks one leg around Marcus' back.

“When you showed me how to hold onto my gun,” Kyle says, whispering against Marcus' lips. “That was when I first wanted this, I think. I got this feeling in my stomach. Kinda hurt, kinda felt good. Then, when we were in the tow truck, trying to get away, I don't think I've ever felt so good, like I could do anything if you were there with me, and I thought, when we were safe again, you would grab me and just, just never let me go.”

Kyle is pretty good at getting what he wants. Marcus doesn't want to ignore his erection anymore, and these clothes are a little scratchy from whatever shitty soap the resistance uses in their laundry machines. He peels his shirt off and watches Kyle's eyes scan over his body, both of them breathing harder.

“When did it start for you?” Kyle asks as Marcus pushes the resistance coat off of him.

Marcus doesn't even have to think about it.

“When you were in the transport.” He yanks Kyle's pants down, making him gasp. “Felt like I could tear through metal. Like you said - like I could do anything. Thought I was going to do it, too, that I was going to pull you out, grow a set of big, black wings and fly away with you and Star. That's how - that's when I knew. Then I fell.”

Marcus knows that's how it always happens. This euphoric feeling, followed by a crashing fall to earth. He lets it take him, presses his naked body over Kyle's, takes Kyle's cock in his hand and watches him gasp and squirm as if it hurts to feel this good, as if he can't stand it, and of course he can't - he comes everywhere within seconds. Nobody has ever touched Kyle's cock before - maybe not even him, considering the sleeping arrangements he had when Marcus found him.

“Show me,” Kyle says, gasping the words into Marcus' mouth, his come cooling between them. “Show me what to do.” His hand finds Marcus' cock and he gives it a few sloppy gropes, making Marcus groan.

“God,” Kyle breathes out. “It's big.”

Marcus laughs, then Kyle does, too, and Marcus is pretty sure he'll never be able to show someone with eyes as sweet and clear as Kyle's how to suck cock without demonstrating on him first, so he just kisses Kyle's neck, thumbs over his hard nipples, waits for him to get it up again. Kyle moans and writhes, his cock already lifting against Marcus' hip.

“You did need this, didn't you?” Marcus says, taking one of Kyle's firm little ass cheeks in his hand. He feels crazy, and like nothing will ever matter but this. Kyle is nodding against his jaw, whining.

“Needed you,” Kyle says, panting. “And, and - what - ahh!”

Kyle quite literally screams when Marcus takes his cock into his mouth, and Marcus would tell him to be quiet, but his tongue is kind of busy, tasting the bitterness of the come that's dried on Kyle's cock and the sweetness of his secret skin, which feels like silk between Marcus' lips. He's glad that Kyle already came so that he can enjoy this for more than half a second, and so that Marcus can keep hearing those sounds he's making, sharp and panicked one minute - hahh! oh! - and then so soft - mhmm, ahh. Marcus' name get mixed in, too, gasped and broken. He's hard as fuck by the time Kyle shoots his load down Marcus' throat, nearly choking him with a violent jerk of his hips.

Marcus crawls up Kyle's shivering body and smirks at his astonished expression, pulling the blankets over him. He settles against Kyle's side and kisses his cheek, thinking of his own very first blow job, and how he would have married that girl without a second thought in the awestruck minutes that followed.

“God - God,” Kyle says. He curls his fingers around Marcus' bicep, staring up at him like he has just grown wings, like they're terrifying and beautiful, looming over him now. “That - that - did you swallow that?”

“Yeah.”

Kyle exhales in disbelief and puts his hand over Marcus' stomach.

“You swallowed that,” he says, as if Marcus is the first one who's ever done this for anyone. Kyle looks up at Marcus, eyelashes fluttering. “Let me see,” he whispers, mouth already closing over Marcus', tasting himself on Marcus' lips. His tongue slides against Marcus' and he moans as he pulls back, making Marcus' cock throb. “Tastes kinda weird,” he says, looking into Marcus' eyes questioningly.

“The taste is not the point.” Marcus shifts uncomfortably and reaches down to stroke himself. Kyle watches, his mouth open, mesmerized. He puts his hand over Marcus' and rubs his fingers through the wet slit of his cock, looking up with alarm when Marcus bites down on his groan.

“What should I do?” Kyle asks. He looks nervous. Marcus shrugs.

“Nothing,” he says. “Just watch.”

Kyle does for about five seconds, then squirms down to kiss the head of Marcus' cock, his tongue darting out here and there, licking up the precome, making Marcus' whole body pulse with the breathless need to be inside Kyle, to fuck him so goddamn hard, but of course he can't do that, and just thinking about it makes him come as Kyle's tongue travels slowly up the underside of his dick.

Marcus uses one of the damp towels they brought back from the shower to clean his come from Kyle's face, Kyle blushing and apologizing, Marcus kissing him and shaking his head, feeling like he did the first time, ready to give Kyle everything he has.

“I'll swallow it next time,” Kyle says. Marcus snorts.

“Whatever you say.” He picks up the resistance coat and helps Kyle into it before pulling him down under the blankets. They sleep like that, naked legs twisted together, Kyle waking from time to time to push his soft face against Marcus' neck and whisper through what might be dreams. Marcus pets him back to sleep and wonders how long this can possibly last. He's never had anything good for very long, and he's pretty sure that Kyle's never had anything good at all, delirious with happiness after a blow job. But Marcus is kind of shattered by what he said, about how he'd felt like he could do anything because he'd be able to be with Marcus when it was all over. Marcus remembers showing Kyle how to hang onto his gun, a kind of heat pooling in his stomach then, too. The kid needed someone to take care of him. It was the first time Marcus had ever volunteered for that sort of job. First time he'd ever volunteered for anything. He thinks again of his brother, and how no good deed goes unpunished. So it's good that Marcus has tainted this one with sex, with selfishness. It just doesn't feel like that with Kyle cuddled against him, clean and warm in his idealist's jacket. It's something much bigger than sex, and that's why Marcus feels doomed, because he might have a lot of shiny new parts since the robots reconstructed him, but he's never going to grow wings.

*

Kate's baby is born that night, a healthy girl named Sarah. The mood in the base is celebratory, the birth of Connor's daughter coming on the heels of the victory at the Skynet headquarters. Even Connor, who is still weak from his injuries and hobbling around with the help of a cane, seems cheerful, accepting the congratulations of his men. He comes over to Kyle in the dining hall, where he's sitting with Marcus and Star, and smiles down at Kyle in a way that makes Marcus nervous.

“Congratulations!” Kyle says brightly. “Is Kate doing okay?”

“She's fine,” Connor says. “Have you got everything you need?”

“Yeah.” Kyle sneaks a look at Marcus, which Marcus really wishes he hadn't done, because he can feel Connor's eyes on him afterward. He looks up at Connor, wiping his mouth with his sleeve.

“Glad everything went okay,” Marcus says. Connor nods curtly and pats Kyle's shoulder before leaving.

“He looks sick,” Kyle says as Connor walks off, clearly struggling with the cane; a walker would serve him better, but he'd never let his men see him like that.

“He'll be alright,” Marcus says. If Connor dies while his wife is still weak from childbirth this place might fall to chaos. Marcus would take Kyle and Star away if that happened; Blair, too, if she was willing to come. He sees her headed toward them and lifts a hand to wave.

“I guess you've heard the good news,” she says. She stands behind Star and plays with her hair. Star gives Marcus a look that tells him she's annoyed, and he smirks.

“It's so great,” Kyle says. “The machines can make more of each other in their factories, but it really means something when we make more humans.” He blushes and looks down at his plate. Blair laughs.

“Sure does,” she says, smoothing Star's hair down again. She looks at Marcus, and Marcus feels the rickety database that got downloaded into his brain processing what passes between them in a way that he might not have considered on his own: oh, fuck. He didn't use a condom when he fucked Blair the other day. Perfect.

She walks off and Kyle stares at Marcus as he watches her go. He looks kind of worried when Marcus glances over at him, and Marcus gives his back a quick pat.

“Here's to human life,” he says, raising his cup of water.

“I didn't mean anything bad about you!” Kyle says. “You're human. You are.”

“No worries.” Marcus pats Kyle's back again and gives Star a look, because she's staring at him like she knows everything, which she's always kind of done. It's unnerving.

The next couple of days are quiet on the base, the Connors recovering and spending time with their new baby while the resistance gears up for its next big strike. Marcus finds a pack of cards and plays with Kyle, Star, and Blair, and sometimes, when Blair lets loose her wild laugh, he doesn't mind the idea that she could be pregnant with his kid. Then Kyle's eyes will glitter with his smile as he puts down a good hand, and Marcus will start praying again that he hasn't tied himself to Blair that way. He's got enough people to look after as it is, and he does so as best he can, stealing little things for Kyle and Star, and sometimes for Blair. People have secret stashes all over the base, and Marcus is good at finding them, just like he's good at fixing machines now, refurbishing engines in the hangar while the others stand back and watch, awestruck and suspicious.

When he's alone with Kyle, he teaches him things, slow and patient, whispering shhh when Kyle cries out with surprise, his head tipping back as his body arches into Marcus' touch. Kyle clings so tightly in the aftermath, sobbing out Marcus' name like a broken little plea, pressing wet kisses to his neck. The first time Marcus pushes a finger into him, Kyle won't let him take it out, even after he's come.

“Stay in me,” he whispers against Marcus' mouth, and Marcus groans, his whole body thrumming with it, making Kyle shudder and smile beneath him.

“You could put your cock in me,” Kyle says one night when they're both spent, Marcus curled around Kyle under the blankets, Kyle's back against his chest. “The way you put it in my mouth.”

Like he's the first one to come up with this idea. Marcus kisses down the back of Kyle's neck.

“Nah,” he says. “It'd hurt like hell. Trust me.”

“Trust you? How do you know?”

“'Cause I been to prison. Well, this body hasn't, but they left me with those memories. Nice of them.”

“Prison? People did that to you there? And it hurt?”

“Yep.”

“Those fuckers.”

“They got what was coming to them eventually, don't worry.”

“What was coming to them? Did you kill them or something?”

“Me and a buddy of mine. Hey. Forget it. Doesn't matter.”

“Does too matter.” Kyle turns in Marcus' arms and presses his face against Marcus' chest, writing things on Marcus' back with his finger. Marcus isn't supposed to be able to read the letters that Kyle spells out, shouldn't be able to, but his hyperactive nervous system never rests. Kyle writes his name, mostly, as if Marcus is a beloved possession that Kyle wants to lay claim to forever, and then writes KR + MW, which is so ridiculous that it's almost profound.

“Who taught you how to read and write?” Marcus asks.

“My dad. I'm not that good, though. Sometimes, in the lab, Dr. Yune has to teach me words, what they mean.”

“What happened to your dad?”

“You know.” Kyle flattens his hand against Marcus' back. “The machines.”

“Sorry.”

“I'm sorry, too. About what happened to you. But why were you in prison?”

“My brother. It's a long story.”

“Your brother? Was he in prison, too?”

“He was dead.”

Kyle sighs like Marcus is breaking his heart. He presses little kisses to Marcus' chest, as if he's writing things there in some other alphabet, one Marcus' mechanical nervous system won't be able to decipher.

“How'd he die?” Kyle asks.

“Uh, well. His best friend went to war and came back in a box. Bobby pretty much lost his shit. He broke into this governor's house. Just 'cause he was a Republican. I drove him there because - I don't know - I guess I thought he'd back out of it if I was there with him. Shoulda known better. Cops came, we drove off, cops followed. The car - I was driving too fast. Crashed. Bobby - he was dead - they crashed into us, the cops, both of 'em died. Not sure why I didn't. Then I just tried to get my brother out of the car, like it would matter if I could, and more cops came to arrest me. The whole fucking thing. A train wreck. That was always the way things were for me and Bobby. Trouble and Big Trouble. That's what we were called at school. I was Trouble, he was Big Trouble. Only 'cause he was older. And smarter, at least until Tim died. More dangerous.”

The only light in the room is from a tiny vent at the top of the wall across from the door, which leads to a chamber like the one where Marcus was detained when he first came to the base. There's some natural light filtering through it, from far off, enough to let Marcus see the expression on Kyle's face. He looks riveted, horrified.

“So, I killed three people,” Marcus says, staring back, unblinking. “I was on death row when I gave my body to Cyberdine. I guess you don't know what death row is. They killed me, basically, for what I did. Everything except for my brain and my heart. Fucking assholes left my heart.” He swallows heavily and finds Kyle's hands under the blankets, brings it up and presses it over his heartbeat, which is wild and nervous as he watches Kyle's eyes.

“But you were only trying to help your brother,” Kyle says, his voice soft, startled.

“If I really wanted to help him - shit, I don't know. I would have done something other than offer to drive him there. I just didn't want him to go through that alone. I thought if he was going to crash and burn, at least I could keep him company. I fucking crashed, alright. Both of us burned up. But I'm here, and - it ain't right. Bobby would be all about this war, a real cause, he'd be at the forefront, ready to fight for humanity. Me, shit. This is all I want.” He combs his fingers through Kyle's hair, and Kyle lets out a deep breath. He kisses Marcus on the lips, timidly at first, then deeper, pushing his breath into Marcus' mouth like he wants to give him something human, let him swallow down something real.

“This is all anybody wants,” Kyle whispers, his hand still pressed over Marcus' heart. “This is what we're fighting for. You belong here as much as anybody.”

The next morning, Connor announces a new mission for his troops: twenty men and two jet fighters will scan down the California coast, all the way to what used to be the Mexican border. They'll recruit survivors on the way, set up sentries. He won't be going with them. It's not said aloud, but it's clear that his health is deteriorating. When he's finished with his speech his wife wheels him away in his chair.

Marcus is assigned to the mission; Kyle is not. Kyle is upset, on the verge of tears, and he begs an audience with Connor, but Kate tells him that Connor's decision not to use him is final. He's still too young. Kyle goes back to the room and Marcus finds him there, hiding his face in the pillow.

“It's not fair,” Kyle says. “I survived for six years on my own after my dad died. How many of them can say that?”

“Six years, Jesus,” Marcus says, scratching his fingers through Kyle's hair. Blair trimmed his curls off, at Kyle's request, to make him look tougher. Marcus misses them. “How'd you do it?”

“I don't know.” Kyle wipes at his face and sits up. He hooks his hand into the collar of Marcus' shirt. “Don't go,” he says. “Don't leave me here. Take me with you. Who cares what Connor says? You're stronger than him.”

Marcus snorts. “You don't want me running this show, believe me.” He pulls Kyle into his lap and cradles him there, secretly glad that he'll stay here, safe inside the base. Marcus would rather die alone than bring Kyle into the line of fire with him, though he doesn't doubt that Kyle could handle himself. He strokes Kyle's back and wonders if he could refuse the assignment, just stay here with him.

“Blair's coming on the mission,” Marcus says. This wrenches a sob from Kyle, who clings tighter, his legs locking around the small of Marcus' back. “I want you to sleep with Star and Virginia while I'm gone. Anybody gives you any trouble, go right to Connor and Kate. Okay?”

Kyle sits back, wiping his nose with his sleeve. He gives Marcus such a pitiful look that Marcus can't help but grin, which makes Kyle scowl petulantly and press his forehead to Marcus' shoulder again.
“What if you don't come back?” he says.

“I'll be back. Don't worry.” Marcus closes his arms around Kyle and rocks him a little, wishing that his promises meant anything, but Kyle watched his father get murdered by machines when he was ten years old, and he knows exactly what promises like this are worth.

“What if they want you and Blair to stay at one of the sentry points? What if they want her to have your babies?”

Marcus laughs. “I think Blair would say 'hell no' to that directive.”

“Yeah, right. She wishes she was in here sleeping with you. I can tell.”

“So what? I'm yours.”

Kyle sits back and smiles slowly, rubbing one finger over the hollow of Marcus' throat, his eyes cast downward.

“Yeah,” he says, his voice rough from crying. “You are.”

That night, with Kyle sleeping against his chest, Marcus stares at the ceiling and prays that Blair isn't pregnant. He prays that Kyle will do as he asked and sleep with Virginia and Star, though he probably won't, he'll stay here alone so he can pull himself off, thinking of Marcus, smelling him in the blankets. Marcus prays that Connor won't die. He's not sure why that seems just as important as anything else, but the answer is humming through his central processors, just out of reach of his consciousness.

Part II