Detroit Become Human x Readers

Weight (Markus x Reader)

Most would have thought the leader of the android revolution would be on the streets on the day of his peoples’ liberation. Giving speeches, celebrating with his fellow androids. But those who made those assumptions about Markus simply proved they didn’t know him well enough.

He gave a speech, yes. But it was the only one. Up on stage in front of millions of androids. In front of the world. He was drained and exhausted, but he was victorious. You all were victorious. If only for now.

You’d found yourself a seat on a park bench. Police had swarmed some areas, and the president was fit to be giving an address. The whole world had seen you take your freedom, they’d watched you sing and they’d listened to your voice, for the very first time. And that was enough to fatigue even the most resilient of androids.

The city was quiet, empty, save for the distant celebrations of freed androids and helicopters flying overhead. It felt like you were watching it through a screen. Here there was just snow, trees and cold air. Here it was just you. Just your thoughts.

Or so you’d assumed.

Markus approach was silent, up until he found his seat beside you. He puts no distance, letting his thigh rest against your thigh and his shoulder to yours. He doesn’t speak, and neither do you. Simply appreciating the distance and the moment of peace.

As an android, you can’t feel much. Your sensors for your model were dated, and the most you could understand was hot and cold, rough and soft. There are no sensations, no jolts from a gentle touch. And while you hope that one day that can change, you can get some form of upgrade, you know you have to make do with what you have now. And what you have now is a feeling of weight.

Pressing up against your side, Markus wastes no time in leaning his head on your shoulder, slipping his hand into yours. He’s quiet as he stares ahead, into the trees and the pavements. The city which was now yours.

For one week, he’d accomplished a lot. More than you’d seen in Jericho in your 2 years there. He was your peoples’ saviour. He was a hero, a genius. But he was also a person. A person with a lot of responsibility now weighing down on his shoulders.

So you let him lean, resting your head atop his, running a thumb across the back of his hand. You let your Atlas rest his back for just a moment before he had to go off and carry the world once more.

You let Markus lean on you because even with the whole world counting on him, it made your chest flutter just a little to know that he wanted to rely on you.