Archive of Our Own ^beta

Stress Level 68%.

Connor couldn’t read what was making the WR600 so anxious as it stood still – or at least tried to, hands clasped in front of itself as it looked down, occasionally looking up and around with a sharp, bird-like head turns.

There was a knife on the table, and three plates with an opossum that had been poorly roasted on the surface. Androids don’t need to eat. He looked to the fireplace. Androids don’t need heat, either.

“I saw blue blood on the fence." He started. "I know that another android is here.” Connor continued to examined the area.

“Ralph scratched himself coming through. That’s Ralph’s blood.”

The android’s LED spun red. He was lying.

“I’m looking for an AX400, have you seen it?”

“Ralph’s seen nobody.”

Red LED again. Connor determined he was getting nowhere with questioning the android. Instead, he decided to go upstairs, and the android’s stress level rose to 87%.

“Is there anyone upstairs?”

“No. No one.” It said, still quick and nervous. A yellow LED.

Connor analyzed its jittering, cardiopump, LED, and bioware patterns. Nothing hiccupped, at least nothing that wasn’t already. The android was telling the truth this time.

Connor decided to look around anyway. As he went upstairs, the undetectable connection he scanned of the WR600 disappeared, blocked between distance as well as the wall. Connor found himself in a bedroom and looked around, stepping over glass and old books. The armoire was open with a few coats hanging. He wondered why the WR600 did not wear these and instead opted for a cargo drape worn around its shoulders like a cape. He looked around before finding nothing more but dust.

“Connor! The fuck you doing?” He heard Hank call from the yard, although the broken window made it louder.

“I’ll be there in a moment, lieutenant!” He called back.

He rounded to the bathroom. He found cut hair in the sink.

Scanning… … … Both monofilament fibers and polyfilament fibers are used to fabricate the hair. Modacrylic, vinyl chloride, polyester, fire resistant.

Synthetic hair. An android was here. Where did it go?

He also noticed the LED sitting in the dip of the drain.

“Connor!” yelled Hank.

Connor shook his head. As he turned around he saw a hand sticking out from under the curtain of the tub. Connor reached and pulled the curtain over, revealing a dead man having been stabbed several times in the chest.

Arin, Thomas. Deceased. Reported loss of home 2027. Criminal Record: Loitering, theft.   

A homeless man tried to squat in the apartment. Did the android downstairs kill him?

He went downstairs, Hank was waiting for him with the android.

“Did you kill that man?” Connor asked.

The WR600 looked up at him, brows up and lips pulled back in what Connor determined was worry.

“N-no. No, Ralph did no such thing.”

Hank looked at Connor with surprise and then realization.

“Aw, dammit… We don’t have time for another fucking case. Ben!” Hank called out, looking out the door. His fellow officer came through the fence.

“Yeah, you found something?”

Hank scoffed, “Unfortunately, yeah. Not the android, but we got a body. You wanna call it in?”

Ben shook his head. “Yeah, sure thing.”

Connor looked to the WR600 as it twitched.

“Please. Ralph didn’t mean it.”

Hank crossed his arms.

“So you did kill him?”

“Ralph was just trying to protect himself. Humans want to hurt Ralph. He tried to hide, really. But the homeless man was drunk and tried to hurt Ralph.”

Hank motioned his hand towards the android, an offering to Connor. Connor came behind him to cuff him. Ralph did not fight back, but with Connor behind him, he looked towards the pile of boxes under the stairwell. He smiled, although it seemed sad to those he smiled at hidden away, and he looked elsewhere before the human and traitor-android saw where he was looking.

Ralph went in quietly, or as quietly as he could manage. He whimpered, legs closed tight like a child trying not to squirm, hands cuffed behind his back.

Safe. Safe. Safe. Little girl and Kara are safe.  It was a mantra he told himself. Surely they were safe.

He was manhandled, and squawked at being ripped out of the police vehicle.

“Please, don’t hurt Ralph,” he said.

“Shut the fuck up,” detective Reed answered. Ben shook his head, watching Gavin force the android into the building. Gavin pushed the android into the interrogation room, uncuffing his hands only to recuff them to the table.

“Ralph did nothing wrong,” the android pleaded. Connor, on the other side of the glass with Hank and Ben, analyzed the android’s face, which was surprisingly expressive for two reasons – he was an android, and half of his face was severely burned. The downturn of the WR600’s mouth, the slight squint of it’s eye, it was… Afraid? Unhappy was the best Connor could come up with. Frankly, it looked as if it was about to cry, but it wasn’t sadness the way Connor would deem it.

Gavin was the first to try and interrogate it. He tossed a bagged knife, a manila folder of photographs, another bag of money and change, and a bag with a broken dollar store watch.

Gavin did not sit down. Instead, he pressed both palms against the table in front of the android.

“Breaking and entering, squatting, murder. You really got a lot of shit on your plate, huh?” Gavin was mocking the android. He mocked everyone. But Connor did not deem it was appropriate.

“Don’t see why we gotta stick around,” Hank started. “You obviously got everything you need. Hell, damn thing practically confessed at the house. We'll get out of your hair.”

“No, wait, lieutenant.”

Hank and Ben looked to Connor, whose eyes did not leave from Ralph and Gavin.

“I want to try and talk to it.” He turned to Hank.

“I’m sure it saw the AX400. And if its stress level is lowered just enough, I may be able to probe its memory for everything. The murder, and our android.”

Hank took a deep breath before slowly letting it out.

“God dammit… Alright. Yeah, sure.”

Connor nodded with a smile, a gesture of thanks. Hank crossed his arms in his seat.

Connor analyzed the android’s stress level. It was at 70%. It hadn’t calmed down since they found it. He wondered if the damage to its face affected its software, somehow.

“Look, we got your weapon, it doesn’t have any prints on it, and you know something?”

Gavin gave the android a lopsided smile, Connor would label it cheeky if it didn’t have cruel undertones.

“Androids don’t leave fingerprints. This – ” Gavin held up the watch. “Belonged to the man you killed. It has his DNA on it and everything. Money, too. Well, money has a lot on it, but definitely his fingerprints. You just couldn’t stand your pathetic fucking life as an android and for what? You don’t eat. You don’t sleep. What’d you need the money for?”

It was unusual to see and hear Gavin be so competent and thorough.

Gavin slammed the table. Ralph’s stress level went up to 78%. The WR600. The WR600’s stress level went up to 78%. Don't humanize it.

The android squeaked and jumped, its wrists tugging at the cuffs, sinking into itself.

“Ralph is sorry! He wanted to be like humans! Money can get Ralph human things!”

Gavin laughed in it’s face. “Human, huh? You wanna be human? Well that’s just too bad. You aren’t. You never will be.”

“Ralph just wanted human things…”

Gavin opened the manila folder. He sifted through a few photos. When he stopped on some to show Ralph – The WR600 – Connor focused the image on them to get a better look. They were photos of the sink with hair, and the LED. Gavin unclipped one of the bags, the one with the watch, to reveal there was another with it. The LED from the sink.

“Whose LED is this, huh? Obviously it ain’t yours.” Gavin pointed to the WR600’s face. Connor couldn’t see what color it was. He assumed it hasn’t been blue for a long time.

“Please,” Ralph pleaded. “Please.”

Gavin rounded the desk, getting into Ralph’s face.

“Listen here you plastic mother fucker. You want out of here? You tell us where the android went. You get as stressed out as you want, we’ll just pull you right back.”

Connor assumed Gavin was bluffing. Once an android self-destructs, it becomes very hard to retrieve information from it. Although, it is still possible.

The WR600’s stress level rose to 82%.

“Left. Left. They left! They left when the humans weren’t looking. I don’t know. Ralph doesn’t know. I don’t know.” It was frantically trying to answer, looking forward at nothing in particular, clenching and unclenching is hands, twitching trying to move away from Gavin.

“Fuck…” Hank whispered. “They were still at the house. Shit. You were right.” He said to Connor.

Connor heard it, and he understood it, but it didn’t process. Instead, he looked at how Ralph cowered, shivering under Gavin’s scrutiny.

“I think that’s plenty. I already have an audio recording of him apologizing for the murder. I would still like to question it before Detective Reed stresses it to destruction.”

Ben nodded in understanding before pushing a button on the touch screen.

“Alright, Reed, that’s enough. We got what we needed.”

Gavin gave a smug smirk to the glass, standing up straight before giving a last glance at the worried android.

As he opened the door he was startled, taking half a step back, by Connor suddenly being in the doorway.

“The fuck you want.”

“I would like to ask it some more questions. Since you have completed your mission, you may leave.”

Gavin scowled. “I don’t take orders from you.”

Gavin still moved past him, staring with a heated glare before walking off.

Connor entered the room, slowly and carefully. He sat in the chair that had been unused by Gavin.

“Hey. It’s alright. I’m not going to hurt you.”

The WR600 looked up. Its eyes widened and it half-smiled before it’s expression dropped again.

“Oh. It’s, it’s you. It’s you.”

“That android, the AX400. Where did it go?” Connor asked in a calm voice, hands clasped together atop the desk.

“Ralph doesn’t know. He wanted to protect her and the little girl. They left when the humans came for Ralph. I think. I hope.”

Stress level 77%.

Connor thought it over. The deviants were human-like in that they emulated human emotion, the irrationality in their code made them lash out. What would one do to soothe a human? 

The detective reached out his hand slowly to place on top of Ralph’s. The other android flinched, but Connor persisted, cupping the android’s hand.

“That’s alright. You’ve been very cooperative with us. You’ve been very helpful. Is there anything else you can tell us about the android? You said there was a little girl?”

Connor examined Ralph’s broken eye. It was pitch black with a ring where his iris was supposed to be lit, but the visual node was nonfunctional.  No wonder the android frantically looked around. It was constantly being ambushed by only having one functional eye.

“Ralph doesn’t know. One day they were home, and the next they weren’t. Ralph protected them. That’s all he knows.”

Ralph’s LED was yellow, and Connor didn’t detect any abnormalities – or rather further abnormalities – in the skipping of the WR600’s cardiopump.

“Would you like to tell me about all that,” he gestured to the android’s face.

Ralph looked up at him, in the eye, for a moment.

“Oh. Humans hurt Ralph.”

“How did they hurt Ralph?”

“With fire. Fire hurt Ralph’s face. They kicked Ralph to the ground, hurting him, and Ralph felt hurt, felt the pain, and felt scared. So scared. So, so scared. Ralph wanted to leave and never come back. So he did. And now Ralph is here.”

Connor had an irrational thought. It lit his LED yellow, and it spun and spun. In reality it was only milliseconds, but to him it lasted forever. He wanted to touch Ralph’s face.

“Will Ralph be… Taken away?”

Connor realized his hand was still holding Ralph’s. He did not let go, yet.

“Yes. You may be deactivated to prevent further harm.”

“Harm to who? Ralph hurt nobody. Nobody! Human hurt Ralph. He had to defend himself.”

“Androids aren’t people. You don’t have a right to claim that.”

“But it’s true!” Ralph looked up at Connor, desperate.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Hank’s voice came through.

Hank entered the room shortly after. Connor still held on to Ralph’s hand.

Ralph’s stress level went down to 56%. It’s the lowest Connor had seen since he found him.

As Hank was uncuffing the android, Connor’s hand moving out of the way, Connor spoke up.

“If we detain it for longer, its decommissioning would be postponed.”

“Uh-huh,” Hank absently answered back, recuffing the android’s hands behind it’s back.

“It's been in contact with our target. I think we should keep it for a while longer. When its stress reaches optimal levels, I could still probe it.”

Hank looked down at Connor suspiciously. 

“He’s not a fucking pet,” Hank said.

“No. It’s an android. A tool at our disposal.” Connor insisted. 

Hank was tired.

On the drive later in the evening, Ralph had been cuffed but sat in the back center of Hank’s car. Ralph looked around, even kicked a balled up receipt back and forth.

“Never thought I’d see a shit eating grin out of an android. Let alone you.”

Connor said nothing, but he was pleased with himself.

In the house, Ralph was uncuffed, looking up at Hank, tilting his head.

“What is Ralph supposed to do?”

Hank shrugged. “Fuck if I know. Connor?”

“You can clean, if you’d like. Or perhaps take care of Hank’s yard, seeing as you’re a green maintenance worker.”

“Oh. Oh, yes. Ralph can do that. Yes, Ralph can do that.” The android nodded and smiled, then looked to Hank.

Hank slid his hand across his face. “Goddammit.”

Connor’s LED flashed yellow, his head moved off to the side as he blinked.

“I’m getting a report…”

Hank threw his hands up in the air.

“What are we, the only cops in Detroit?”

The lieutenant looked to the latest unfortunate addition in his life.

Ralph with his hands clasped in front of him looked between Hank and Connor swiftly, unable to focus on just one.

“Ralph will be good. He promises.”

Hank twisted his mouth into something like disbelief, but waved a hand.

“Alright, alright. Whatever. We’ll be back.”

Connor smiled at Ralph as Hank turned on his heel to leave, thankfully still somewhat presentable for the public, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Ralph was left alone.

He looked around. Television, couch, records, record player, kitchen, kitchen table, pizza boxes, takeout boxes, dirty dishes. But clean. It was cleaner than the old house. He saw Sumo, who was eating food from his bowl, much more important than greeting his own master or bothering the new android.

Ralph smiled brightly.

“Oh, wonderful!”

He waddled up to the dog and Sumo backed away, uncertain of him. Ralph let out his hand, damaged and exposed endoskeleton. The dog sniffed before licking his palm.

“What a good dog. Good dog, good dog.”

Ralph decided he should try and help.

He new something. He remembered how to do something. He crushed the boxes and threw them away. He found bottles and threw them away. He did not understand dishes. He did, but he was afraid he would fidget and drop them, or do them incorrectly. It was not a part of his programming. He decided to clean the kitchen table. Polish and shine, polish and shine.

He picked up a butter knife from the table as he wiped it. Suddenly, Ralph was fixated. He poked the table with it and drew it back and forth. Ra9. Ra9. Ra9. Ra9. He carved it into the kitchen table with the butter knife. Eventually he put the knife down and scratched at it with his already-damaged fingers. After ten minutes, the skin on his fingers began to wear, blue blood staining the wood. Ralph lowered his head, tilted to the side as he watched his hand, his fingers, move in that pattern. Ra9. Ra9. Ra9.

“Hey, we’re ho- What the fuck.”

Ralph jumped, snapped from his delusions. He stared up at Hank and Connor, who stared at the kitchen. Blue blood had been smeared on the walls in various sizes of Ra9. Ralph didn’t notice when he had moved from the table to the corner of the kitchen.

“What the fuck did you do?!” Hank accused, raising his voice. Ralph backed into the corner.

“I-I don’t know. I don’t know. Ralph doesn’t remember. Ralph is sorry.”

Connor reached out his hand to stop Hank from charging at the android.

“I’ll clean up the mess, lieutenant. Ralph, would you care to help me?”

Ralph nodded, looking around at the mess he made. Connor walked past Hank, who ran fingers through his gray hair. Connor stepped on dog food and looked down. The kibbles were arranged in Ra9 as well.

“Ralph is sorry. He doesn’t know what came over him.”

Connor gave him a comforting smile. “It’s alright. No one’s going to hurt you. We can clean this all up, okay?”

Hank sighed behind them.

“Yeah, yeah…” He went into his bedroom, presumably to get dressed.

Connor walked slowly up to Ralph, who was still cowering and not looking at him. The detective placed his hand on Ralph’s shoulder, the gardener flinched.

“It’s okay. Let’s get started, alright?”

Ralph looked up and nodded.

Connor took up a cloth that hung out of the sink cabinet. He found and sprayed cleaner on the wall and began to wipe the thirium off the walls. Ralph followed suit, mimicking what he saw and half-remembering his natural programming. Clean. Clean. Maintain.

Connor helped him clean, and Hank came out of the bedroom dressed down in a hoodie. He sighed as he dragged fingers across the grooves Ralph made.

“Ra9… Jesus. The fuck does this even mean?” He asked.

Ralph stopped cleaning to look at him.

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly.

“When Ralph woke up, suddenly it was there. In Ralph’s brain he heard Ra9. Ra9 helped Ralph, I think. Maybe. I don’t know.”

Ralph looked down then back up, nodding as if to approve his own statement. He went back to cleaning with Connor.

“Androids believing in God,” Hank mumbled. He let the androids clean, opening the fridge to get a beer.

He looked to Connor, wondering what overcame the detective android to bring home, essentially, a new companion. Bring home, Hank scoffed at himself. The thought slipped his mind. He both hated and secretly enjoyed getting close to his new partner. He supposed it wouldn’t be so bad to have Ralph hang around, too. 

“Ralph is sorry,” the gardener said, pausing in the middle of wiping the wall.

“Ralph is broken. But he will try to do better.” 

“Hey,” Hank called back. “We’re all a little broken.”

Connor smiled between them. Something genuinely warm overcame him.

Ralph’s stress level had decreased to 34%. Ralph was happy. Hank seemed so, too.

Connor thought for a moment. Ralph's stress would be optimal soon. But did the android deserve to be decommissioned for self-defense?

Ralph smiled, but looked away quickly. Scrub, scrub, clean, clean, maintain. 

Connor determined he and Hank could take care of themselves if Ralph had any dangerous episodes, as long as they posed no threat to Ralph. He assured himself they would be fine.

Ralph liked keeping busy. He wanted to clean again. He thought of all the ways he could make the dirty grass and rock outside look so much nicer, maybe with a couple bushes or shrubs.

Ralph liked having a purpose again.