#dbh norkus november day or night

[yeahhiyellow]

Source: @rkkelpie

Norkus November ~ Day 24 ~ Day or Night ~ Night

A (not really) quick and little Norkus/Jericho Squad fanfic for you guys!

Also, this is kind of a prologue for an upcoming fanfiction series (Living Deviant), so watch out for that I guess (???)

Who I Thought I Was

11:12 PM

"I'm just so glad we're alive, personally. All of us could've been killed, so many times. So this is for the android revolution. This is for all the lives we saved. This is for our peaceful actions. This is for the androids who we freed. This is for the humans who supported us. And most importantly, this is for us."

The tall, dark, peaceful android next to me raised his wine glass full of thirium and clinked it against everyone else's. We all cheered, taking a sip.

Maybe I didn't agree with him all the time, especially with his peaceful approach, but he and the others had helped us through the mess, so I couldn't argue.

The other tall, dark and peaceful android looked at me from my other side. I still enjoyed staring into his mismatched eyes. And now that I knew the story behind his look, I was ten times more fascinated.

"So, you enjoying the thirium?" he asked.

"Absolutely," I replied after finishing my long sip.

"I can tell."

We laughed, and the others, listening, all joined in.

For the past couple weeks, Markus, Josh, Simon and I had been staying at Carl's house. Connor had joined us a few days after we moved in, being too afraid to go anywhere else. After all of my own experiences, both during and after my time at the Eden Club, I couldn't blame him one bit.

As the others engaged in conversation around me, I noticed Connor hanging back, miserably staring at his glass. After a bit of hesitation, I departed from Markus's side and walked up to him.

"You feeling alright? I notice you aren't really talking much. Or at all, really. What's the matter?" I took another long sip of my thirium after I spoke the words. Even after a bit of help from Markus, I still wasn't exactly the best at comforting people.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just, a little..." He drifted off, staring blankly ahead of him.

"A little...?"

"I think I'm beginning to understand the concept of depression."

I bit my lip, glancing back at the others. They would be so much better at this than me. I opened my mouth to ask them for help before closing it, deciding against the idea. I should try to help him, instead of relying on others. After all, that's what feminism was about. And that's who I was and was striving to be.

"Well, why do you say that?"

Ah, shit. I was really bad at comforting people.

"Well," he hesitated, looking away before meeting my eyes again. "You know that's what Hank has, right?"

I nodded. What exactly does this have to do with Hank?

"I'm, well, kind of worried about our relationship. I haven't seen him or even heard from him for weeks now, and - I'm getting worried he doesn't like me anymore."

I put my thirium down on the paint-splattered table next to me. "Well, if I hadn't heard from Markus or one of these guys behind me for weeks," I gestured to the four men standing around, fully invested in their conversation. "I would go ahead and contact them. I know they love me, so nothing could go wrong with just saying hey and asking to meet up." I hoped that would be the right thing to say.

"But I'm afraid he doesn't love me." He put his drink down on the table beside mine and crossed his arms around his chest. I recognized the position as similar to his stature when we were collected in the large church after Jericho blew up. I remember he had truly believed it was all his fault. Luckily, Markus had been there to give him comfort.

I took a deep breath. Things were about to get deep. I just hoped all my thoughts would come out right.

"Look at all the things he did for you. He even risked his own life for yours. If that's not love, than I don't know what is."

"But that was a while ago. He hasn't even thought of me in weeks, for all I know. He doesn't support me anymore, I don't think. Ever since I went deviant."

I shook my head. "He always knew that the deviants were on the right side. Remember a few days ago when you told me what he had said? That maybe the deviants deserved a chance? You know, after you were going to be sent back and you were determined to not be destroyed? There is zero chance he would not love you because you were a deviant. I KNOW" I emphasized the word. "it would never happen. Then, look at what happened in the Cyberlife Tower. He had literally said, 'Maybe you really are alive.' Don't you think just that one sentence proves otherwise?" I put my hand on his shoulder. "You really ought to contact him. I'm pretty goddamn sure that he misses you and is just too afraid to contact YOU."

"But what if he hates me?"

"Nonsense. Look, Connor, he loves you more than anyone else in the world. He said, out of his own mouth, that deviants might not be so bad after all."

"You said you hated all humans, at one point, as well."

"So? My actions spoke louder than my words, and I had wonderful people to help me through. I turned around to face Markus, who smiled at me, cocking one eyebrow as to why I was trying to soothe Connor. I nodded to him, confirming that everything was going to be alright.

"Who's to say that's not the same thing happening with Hank?"

A tear slid out of one of his eyes as I tilted my head to tell him that I was listening intently to whatever he said next.

"But I haven't seen any kind actions from him. And I was the only person he had willing to comfort him, and now I'm gone. I'm a coward, aren't I?"

He was blaming himself again.

"No, Connor. You're not a coward at all. You're a really brave person, and you need to realize that. Now, please contact Hank."

"I've seen the news, North! He hasn't said a single thing about me."

"He also has refused to speak to the press at all. Hey, um, can I tell you something?"

Connor looked up at me, nodding his head somberly.

"A few days ago, when I was out with Markus, we passed by his workplace. I saw him walk out, and I noticed he was crying. He was also looking at his phone, which had a picture of you pulled up. Now tell me that's not love."

"Really?" Another tear slid down his cheek, this time on the other side.

"Really." I said the word confidently and soothingly as I realized the room had gone completely quiet. The men behind us had completely stopped talking, and as I turned around, I realized they were all walking over to us.

Markus put his hand on my back. "I heard the last few things you two said." I noticed his eyes and lips were turned down at the edges.

"Let us handle him right now, okay?" Simon asked, attempting a smile.

"I think he needs a bit of a rest," Carl continued. "Can you two help me get him upstairs?"

Simon and Josh agreed, Simon wheeling Carl out and Josh helping Connor to walk out. Carl turned around at the last minute, making sure Markus could comfort me after what had just happened. I tried to argue, but Markus stopped me.

"You did a pretty good job there, soothing him like that." His eyes were full of gratitude and admiration.

"Did I?"

"Absolutely. Even I couldn't have done that. Hey, do you wanna go out to the courtyard? It's pretty outside, with the stars against the black sky. Would you like to talk there?"

I bit my lip, thinking. "Yeah, I guess. I just need someone to lean on right now." I cringed at the words. This really wasn't displaying the girl power I had wanted it to.

"Well, I'm all yours." He picked up my thirium drink from the table.

At least he knew what I liked, even if I was being all soppy and weak.

He linked his arm with mine and lead us out to the courtyard. As soon as we entered, I felt a cold breeze against my skin. Clearly, my t-shirt and jeans weren't going to be enough.

He sat us down on a little bench near the sheet obscuring Carl's new painting from view.

"Connor will be alright. Don't worry." His arm slipped itself around my shoulder, and I leaned into his soft, warm skin. Wow. I was really totally completely showing off my true feminism. I backed off ever so slightly.

"Do you want to sneak in and see Carl's painting? He hasn't allowed me to see it, and I know he hasn't allowed you to either. We could always just take a peek."

Perfect. A chance to rejuvenate my wild, daring self.

"Yeah, why the hell not?" I smiled mischieviously at him. "Can we make sure everyone upstairs is alright, though?"

Shit. Why did I always have to mess everything up and make myself look all soppy like this?

"I'll send a message to Simon and Josh."

I watched his eyes close as he sent the message. I was a little jealous of him for being able to do that, to be honest. Being originally designed as a sexbot did have a lot of drawbacks that I absolutely hated.

After a few more seconds, he opened his eyes.

"They said he's doing better. He hasn't agreed to reach out to Hank yet, but both of them assume his opinion on that will change soon.

"Good," I spurted out. "Now, let's see this painting."

This was my chance to redeem myself, I couldn't blow it.

Markus stealthily walked over to the curtains and pulled them back. I helped him finish up the job before grabbing his hand and leading him back to view it.

Although it was clearly not finished, what I saw was stunning. It portrayed a light figure at the top of a cliff, and another figure, exactly the same but darker, falling off the edge. From their positions, I could tell the light figure had just dropped the dark figure to her soon to be death. Along the side of the cliff, there were several rocks, which I noticed appeared to be letters, forming words.

"Who I thought I was." The words from the rocks on the painting came out of Markus's mouth.

"Who I thought I was," I echoed.

"Wow. This is, well, really powerful."

I looked at his face, which was completely in awe.

"Just as powerful as you."

He put his hand to mine and lifted it up, the skin disappearing.

"That has got to be one of the most cringy sentences I have ever heard." I looked into his eyes. "But it's damn well true."

He giggled, although ever so slightly, as our hands finished deskinning.

"Have you ever felt like that? Where you just want to drop who you thought you were off the edge?"

I sighed. "I mean, I'm feeling something sort of similar right now."

Markus cocked his head to the side curiously.

"I thought I was a proud, independent, feminist woman. But with the way I've been acting lately, I feel like I'm dropping that part of me off the edge, although in my version of this painting I don't want to. I want to be strong, and I don't think I am." A tear rolled down my cheek. This was not getting any better.

"North." He moved closer to me. "You don't have to put up walls in order to be a feminist. That's not what being a feminist means."

Another tear rolled down my cheek.

"Feminism is all about showing your weaknesses to the world, and showing how proud you are of them. And that's exactly what you're doing."

"I just don't feel like it. I wanted to be someone that everyone could look to as being strong and courageous. And that's not what I am."

"North?" His eyes got closer. "Showing your weaknesses IS being strong and courageous. It takes a lot of bravery to be able to do that. And I think you've done a really good job of it."

"Really?"

"Really." He paused and smiled sheepishly. "Connor."

"Yes, North."

We both laughed.

"You are a feminist. And I'm really proud of you."

I looked deep into his eyes, his memories flashing through my head. The admiration for him was flooding through me. And most importantly, the admiration for myself was also coursing through my passionate veins.

"Now this is the part where you're supposed to kiss me."

A giggle escaped my mouth. "Oh. Yeah."

I closed my eyes and pulled him closer, our lips interlocking. I didn't stop or pull away, either. I enjoyed the taste of his thirium-covered mouth against mine, and no one's expectations were going to stop me.

I imagined dropping what I previously thought of as me off the edge of that cliff. The perfectness of that person was unsettling. When looking at myself, I noticed the wrinkles in my shirt and how it wasn't evenly tucked in. I loved it. I loved me. I was a feminist, and I was proud.