You're a walking target on his back, and he doesn't even care. Which is stupid and rare of him- to not care about something like this. But there's something about you that he can't shake away, and he hates himself for it. He hates that he can't push these feelings away like he's been able to push every other feeling away. He's becoming more human as the days pass... and it feels good. It feels right.

K, Deckard and you have been on the run for five months now. He had been planning his escape from LA- the eternal rain, the police department, Wallace and being a blade runner- with Deckard for awhile, when he had found out about your existence. You were a replicant, like him...

And you were pregnant. Which wasn't supposed to happen. Replicants weren't supposed to get pregnant. They weren't supposed to be human- they didn't come from mothers, and they couldn't be mothers. But Wallace had made you, with a fertile womb, and had implanted seed inside of you. Whether you wanted it or not, didn't matter. You had to take it. An experiment, and one that seemed to have been working out well before K found you.

K had stolen you, technically. He snatched you up from the lab before anyone even noticed, and had taken you with him and Deckard as they escaped LA and moved East- where Deckard claimed he had people who would help. You were Wallace's prized possession. He'd want you back. But K was willing to take that risk because he...

Liked you. For some stupid reason.

But pregnant people, even replicants- apparently- are a handful. You're laying in the bed of the camper van that the three of you share, rubbing your swollen belly and crying about seemingly nothing. K and Deckard had tried to ask you what the waterworks were for, but you didn't seem to have an answer. You were young, in replicant years. A baby in the body of an adult, which makes K want to hold you and protect you. Your crying pierces his ears.