Thanks, sweet First Noelle! This is the final part, initially I intended for it to be just one chapter, but then it got a little too long. What is left in the end for someone who hasn't been loved, appreciated, cared for? Where did that little streak of humanity in Roy come from? Love for life itself?

//Nicolina.

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PART THREE

'To those poor souls who dwell in night.'

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Episode 3:1, My bed, the night before

My eyelids fluttered as his other hand left my throat and traced an invisible path past my other breast, down along my belly and without any further introduction slid inside my panties.

I already knew he'd affected me far beyond a heavy breathing, and now, well… he knew too.

"And… what is it you do… at Tyrell Corporation?" he asked deceptively calmly as his fingers started to move inside me.

"Uh… seCUrity…"

The answer seemed to satisfy him.

It sounds pathetic, but when he started to kiss the side of my neck while still massaging my breasts and thrusting, God only knows how many, fingers in and out of my pussy, I started to tremble uncontrollably.

"What do you WANT?" I screamed as I arched in his grip and couldn't help thrusting back with increasing force.

"I saw you…" he murmured into my neck.

No shit!

"Uh," was my intelligent reply.

"You wanted me."

You don't know how much! "Uhm… I…" Well…

"I want to know how you people feel… once… just once…"

No.

"I don't understand," I panted. Even though I did very well.

"I want to make love to a woman… to you…" He said it so simply, almost childishly. Hadn't I been so madly excited and afraid, I'd have smiled. In a way he seemed like just a boy. A boy who killed 23 people without blinking… who crushed Tyrell's head between his bare hands… THESE hands…

I'm going to kill you. The realisation made me hotter, hungrier, than I'd ever been in my entire life before.

Just one more attempt at reason. "No, I… can't…"

"Did you ever think it was up to you?" he chuckled. "I've seen you humans, you have no respect for life, you don't love, you lack the ability to appreciate the gifts you've been given, you're controlled by greed, envy and sex. Who are you to say no?"

I shook my head, but I'm not sure it even moved noticeably. A rhythmically beating hum was building between my thighs and I had problems focusing on what he was saying.

"Come again?" he whispered in my ear.

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Episode 3:2, Rooftop, final ten minutes

I swallow hard against his hand as it closes harder around my throat and I feel him laugh behind me.

"I thought you were supposed to be good," he taunts.

"I'd retired," I whisper, unable to speak out loud any more. I don't know if he heard me.

"Quite an experience to live in fear, isn't it? That's what it is… to be a slave. Fear. That is all you want from us… to be slaves." He spit the last words in my damaged ear. I hear them muffled, as if from a distance.

He rips me around and throws my body with amazing force through the air. I hit something hard and sag into a heap. From a weird angle, I watch as he slowly stands. Like a god, rising from the dead, he seems to materialise out of the roof itself.

I twitch to life as he slowly walks towards me.

"I'm coming," he singsongs, the sound of his voice echoing between the walls of the adjacent buildings.

I have to get off this fuckin' roof!

I heave myself up on a shaky arm, ignoring the pain, jumping to my feet.

And then I run.

I have no strength. I know I won't make it. I don't care. Anything is better than allowing Roy Batty to tear me to pieces. I've seen his work. It's impressing. It's not gonna happen to me.

He's faster. I don't even make it to the edge of the roof.

I propel forward, trying to dodge the hit. My head flings to the side from the force of the impact and I spit metallic tasting saliva that taints the surface red before the rain dissolves it.

That. Hurt!

I'm staggering, my arms flailing to try to find some support. A boot clad foot hits my belly and I fall to the wet roof, my hands and knees disappears in the inch deep water. It's cold, but I barely feel it now. I can't hold back the wave of nausea, and I throw up again. Thick, sticky blood.

Unable to focus on Batty's whereabouts, I sag and turn over on my back with a groan. The relentless rain hurts as it hammers on my skin. The light from the city is shadowed and I look up at Roy. His eyes look like they are lit from within. A commercial shuttle passes our heads. A mechanical female-like voice seductively keeps repeating the same message: 'Go to the Off-World Colonies; your chance for a new life.' The playing spots from the shuttle makes his appearance glow.

He smiles.

I know there's no such thing as a second chance.

And I am afraid.

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Episode 3:3, My bed, the night before

"No," I croaked hoarsely, not entirely sure about what I said no to. His demand. My building orgasm. The claim that human were driven by greed, that we were all so bad. That I stayed liked glued to his body even though he didn't hold me that hard anymore. That the pleasure he gave me was enough to make me NOT want to try to kill him – at least not now.

Now... no, but soon…

I groaned out loud when he suddenly pulled away his hands, leaving me on the verge of imploding.

I was just going to take a shaky step away from him, my survival instincts attempting to kick in, when he shoved me, making me land on my back on the bed. There was nothing I could do but watch as the man, replicant, before me unhooked the clasp to his pants, letting them fall, and pulled off his shirt.

I may have been a Bladerunner, a professional killer, and the soon-naked man in front of me may have been my prey, but I was also woman enough to appreciate the sight.

My legs still trembled when he sank down with one knee next to me and placed his large hands on my hips.

"Who am I?" he asked.

I shook my head mutely.

Smiling wickedly while staring down at me with unreadable eyes, he crooked his fingers inside my panties and began to pull.

"What am I?"

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Episode 3:4, Rooftop, Final five minutes

"Go fuck yourself," I whisper with what feels like my final breath. I can't take my eyes off his; it's like trying to look away from a train about to crash. Witnessing my own final moments suddenly becomes a fascinatingly morbid obsession.

He crouches before me, his hand grips my chin, almost gently, then I rock away from a blow so hard that I can hear something snap in my neck.

No.

I fight the wish to slip into unconsciousness and instead starts dragging my battered body towards what I know must be the edge of the roof. I know it can't be many feet away.

I don't even bother to look for him.

"Where are you going?" His voice suddenly sounds amused.

Moving forward, I ignore him, fuelled by fear as I have no energy left. I want to die. I want to die now. I can't take any more.

A bolt of triumph surges through my chest when I touch an edge. Without hesitating, I heave myself the few inches further that is needed, ignoring the pain from my chest, abdomen, my broken arm and from whatever is wrong with my neck.

Soon the hurt will be over.

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Episode 3:5, My bed, The night before

Initially, he hurt me.

I fought the pain, fought HIM. I thought it was intentional, I didn't know that he didn't know better.

I'm guessing the angel-like Pris was tougher built, but I never raised the question.

Suddenly he stopped. A hand came into my foggy vision and the tip of a finger brushed some of the wetness off my cheek.

"What is this?" he asked.

I closed my eyes, humiliated, mortified with shame.

I was weak. I was female. I was crying.

I had been so turned on. This non-human, this replicant who was more male than any man I'd ever met, combined with the completely breathtaking fact that I had to kill him the first chance I got, had gotten me so aroused that I'd almost had a freakin' orgasm at the mere thought.

Then, he'd invaded me. He was a giant in more ways than what first met the eye, and I hadn't been with a man for years. I'd fought for my life, or so it felt, but he had just forced me and it had turned into rape.

I don't know if I bawled because of the pain, or because I felt so betrayed by my own stupid body.

"Why are your cheeks wet?"

I cleared my throat. At least he didn't move in me any more. "You're fuckin' hurtin' me, you moron," I spat.

He bent his head closer and licked my cheek. His tongue was warm, soft and wet. "It's salty… what is this? Why have your eyes turned into… lakes?"

"You don't know tears?" I was stunned. I couldn't believe my ears. "You don't cry?"

He shook his head. "No. Do you 'cry' when you hurt? Do all… men 'cry'?"

The weird exchange calmed me a little. He still didn't move, and it gave me a chance to recuperate, to adjust. His weight on me, his warm skin against mine, his scent… didn't feel bad at all now that I caught up.

"Yes… yes, we do… sometimes… for different reasons."

"Emotions?" he asked.

Did I hear a streak of bitterness? I nodded and looked up, studying his face closer. His appearance kept changing; from merciless to friendly, from cruel to peaceful, from cold to childishly questioning.

'What am I?' You don't know… who you are? What you are?

Are you all like this?

Were there more to the replicants than we'd been told? Were they just as complex creatures as we claimed to be? Maybe we weren't the only intelligent living being originating from earth any more? Maybe we had real competition?

I had seen them as mere robots; as a life form lower than worms. That's how we'd been taught.

Killed twenty three civilians…

No.

You're still a murderer. No matter how interesting, you're still too dangerous.

"Emotions," he said again and wiped the wetness off my cheeks.

When he moved again, he was gentler.

This time it didn't hurt.

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Episode 3:6, Rooftop, Final minutes

I fall.

It's like an elevator that suddenly stops. The movement ends abruptly, and I hear someone scream.

When Roy drops me by his feet, I realise it's my own hollers of agony that I hear.

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Episode 3:7, My bed, the night before

I couldn't show him love.

It's a cruel fact of life: you can't teach what you don't know. But I could show him how to handle a woman. A human woman. How to handle me.

And it was good enough for both of us.

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Episode 3:8, Rooftop, finale

I curl up into a little ball by his feet. I can only take very shallow breaths, and I feel unbelievably weak. I can't even lift a finger any more. I'm cold, my trembling only seems to get worse, and I find myself praying, for the first time since I was a kid. Please, God, I can't take any more. Please, let him stop torturing me. I know I'll go to hell for what I've done… but please…

"Wh- …y?" I rasp to his feet.

Roy lifts me in his arms and carry me a few steps to a little spot that actually have some cover from the rain. I scream from the pain when he touches me.

"I do not know. It..." He shrugs. "It doesn't matter any more. I can't win." He blinks some water out of his eyes and places me with my back against a cold wall.

"You already… have," I say, my voice barely above a whisper. I'm still not looking at him and my body sags more and more along the flat surface behind me.

"You will probably die from your injuries. You don't look too well." He sounds cold, calculating, as if he's made an equation in his head from my state and simply came to this conclusion. Like there's nothing more to it. "A little bird with a broken body…" His voice is unexpectedly friendly.

I should be sad… or angry… or scared, but I feel absolutely nothing. I shrug. It sets off a new sharp pain in my neck and I gasp.

"Why did… you pull me up? You… want me… dead." It's hard to speak. Everything inside me is on fire.

"It's happening," he says.

For the first time since before I tried to leave the roof, I look up at him. He's crouching before me. He has blood stains over his torso, and his face is dirt streaked.

I'm betting my face looks a lot worse.

His hair and face glows white, illuminated from the spotlights above. He looks magnificent. Even now, even beaten and dying, I'm in awe. Again that image of a creature sent from God washes over me. Like he had a purpose. Like he was sent here for a task.

A divine task.

I shiver and my head starts to spin.

What was it? Maybe it was to kill Tyrell, after all… maybe it really was? Maybe God sent you like an angel to put a stop to man's play with life and creation.

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Episode 3:9, My bed, finale

"Why me?"

After, I had to ask.

"'Soon my Angel came again; I was arm'd, he came in vain: For the time of youth was fled, And grey hairs were on my head.'" He smiled, frowning, the creases on his forehead deepening. For a moment he looked heart-achingly sad. "My time is soon up."

I nodded slowly and regarded him. I knew that. I knew they were only given a four year life span.

A Nexus 6, a combat model, reciting poetry, wanting to know about love... I was too caught up in the moment to realise the absurdity of it. No wonder he isn't satisfied with his brief life.

"You… you saw me, I saw it… you saw me…" He cocked his head, his eyes intent on mine. "Why is that?"

"I thought you were beautiful, uh… prefect." In the intimacy after sex, still naked in each others arms, the words jumped out of my mouth before I could stop them. I blushed. You always talk before you think! Stupid!I rolled to the side, collected the top sheet and wrapped it around my body.

"Beautiful." He tasted the word, then he rose and began pacing the floor in front of me. "What is beautiful?"

"Ehm…" Right, that's for me… I snorted inwardly and coughed. "Ehm… shit, flowers in the spring after the long winter… a child's laughter… birth…" I sighed. "Getting really pissed… forgetting…"

He stopped and turned to look at me, his eyes narrowing slightly. "That sounds like a rather subjective point of view."

"Emotions are subjective." I raised my hands and touched his forehead, wondering what he'd looked like when he'd… been made… at the time of his inception, if he'd looked as troubled then, as scarred from life. "I'm sure there are emotions in there too… thoughts… want… love…" And mercy I hope…

He shook his head and I lowered my hand. "We weren't made that way. We don't have them. It makes us good labour. Good SLAVE labour."

"But you are here… seeking answers… that means you have questions… it means you worry. That's an emotion, Roy."

He regarded me. "No."

I tried again. "Anger. How do you feel about Tyrell? What does it do to you, that they only let you live four years?"

His eyes narrowed, darkening slightly, then a smile, a deadly frightening, and at the same time beautiful, smile spread over his features. "Fiery the Angels fell…"

Yes I nodded eagerly. There you go! "Exactly."

While I watched, he gathered his clothes and put them back on. A hundred thoughts fought for a place in my fucked-up head, but I pushed them all down.

He turned once and smiled darkly. "Goodbye… Adrienne."

Then the door closed behind him.

I never told you my name.

When he'd left, I was unable to move. I knew my gun had to be just outside the bedroom door. If I was quick, I could assemble it and maybe I'd have a chance to catch up with him in the corridor outside my apartment.

But I didn't. Instead I curled up into a little ball, wrapped in my sheet, and cried.

I don't fuckin' know why I bawled. I don't wanna think about it.

I dreamt.

I dreamt of angels and demons, of blood and revenge.

I dreamt of death.

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Episode 4, the last moments

God, I'm getting delirious.

"What's happening?" No… I don't think I wanna hear…

"The time… is up…"

What? I study him closer. No… His hands are crooked and look useless. He has sunken lower and seems to have stiffened. Like his body isn't following him any more. His eyes glows, but his cheeks have sort of caved in.

No. No, there must be some other way. "Isn't there… anything to do?"

I can't see him go. I feel panic rise in my chest. I'm not ready yet. I don't know why… but life suddenly seems so utterly precious. His. Mine. All life.

"Stay, please…" His voice is low and hoarse and he grins slowly, apologetically. Then the half-smile stays on his face for a few moments longer, like it's frozen there. It gives his features a frightening expression.

"I'm sorry…" And I am. I'm so terribly sorry for him. That he couldn't reach what he wanted, that he couldn't feel… live…

I know time is short for us both, there's no room for lies, no need for deception. I wince when I swallow.

"Hadn't we been… Had the circumstances been… other… If we had met…" I start over, grimacing from the pain in my chest. "You are a man, Roy." I cough so hard it feels like my chest is ripping itself to pieces. "A man. You already are what you wanted to be. Everything. You've lived… so very beautifully…"

I shuffle slightly closer to him, until our cold, wet shoulders touch each other, I grasp for his hand and he takes my hand in his. I drop my head back against the wall. It's become hard to hold it up anyway.

"A man," he croaks and slowly shakes his head. "No man…could have seen…" He swallows hard and grimace. "No man… would have survived…" His eyes narrows and he seems to drift. He's quite and doesn't move for a long time. Maybe it's over?

Suddenly he speaks again.

"I've seen things… you people wouldn't believe. Attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion. I watched C-beams… glitter in the dark near the Tannhäuser Gate. All those… moments… will be lost… in time. Like tears… in… rain…"

It's poetry.

His soft, slightly strained voice, paints these beautiful images, and suddenly I am there with him. I see the colors, the supernovas exploding, the fireworks… the beauty in his eyes, in his mind. And he's right. No man could have seen it; not the way he's seen and appreciated the true brilliance of creation. We're not worthy. Maybe that's why we're so afraid of them?

"Time… to die." He smiles, emitting a low grunt from the effort.

I can only watch. The relentless rain pours steady around us. I look at him before me; his crooked hand is cold as I hold it in my own. He doesn't move, but he's still watching me. I wish I knew what he is thinking. Does he see images from his life? Does he remember loved ones in these last moments? Can a created killing machine love?

I don't know.

I wish I knew.

Soon it won't matter - to any of us.

I wish I knew.

I watch him before me as he slowly closes his eyes. His eyelids twitch. I know replicants dream.

But they don't dream of electric sheep. That's ridiculous.

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Episode 5, Alone

I'm alone. Batty hasn't moved for a long time now.

I've dreamt.

Blue eyes.

An angel.

I think the rain has stopped.

There's no pain.

I lean my head on his cold shoulder.

Time to dream.

Time to die.

THE END