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“Are you nervous?” The familiar voice pulled Connor from his thoughts for a moment, a metal coin laying dormant in his palm as he observed his surroundings. The interrogation room lay in front of him. A small metal table with one chair on each side. A clipboard, with indecipherable scribbles lazily scratched across the paper that it held. A woman. A woman with curled blonde hair, tied into a sloppy ponytail, who looked to be only a few years younger than the man standing next to him. His partner, Lieutenant Hank Anderson. The only thing that separated them from that room was a false mirror. A window, used to witness and plan, without rousing suspicion of the suspect on the other side of the glass.
He nudged the coin with his thumb, feeling the cold metal against his artificial skin. “I don’t know, Lieutenant. These feelings, they’re new to me. I don’t know how being ‘nervous’ is meant to feel.” Hank’s eyes darted to the coin, then shifted back to the androids face. Stoic. Cold. Analytical. It looked like he was searching, searching for the words that described how he felt. The older detective watched as his partner placed his hand on his chest, turning back to face him, where he was leaning against the wall.
“My chest feels...Tight. Like something is stuck there.” Hank sighed, glancing into the room beside him before responding. “Yeah. That’s what nervous feels like.” The android turned once again, tilting his head just as a confused cat would. “I will make a note of this.” Hank watched as the blonde woman turned to the mirror, waving, a signal to show that Connor could enter. He expected the other to catch this, but the boy had his eyes glued to his partner instead. “Hank, I...I do not like this ‘nervous’ feeling.”
The coin was placed in his suit pocket, and Hank moved from his place on the wall, sitting up when he heard the waver in Connor’s voice. His face twisted, and Connor could read his expression perfectly. Concern. “It’s alright, son.” The kind nickname eased the feeling, just a little. “It will pass, feelings don’t last forever.” He nodded, his expression relaxing at the words. A reminder Hank had been giving him for a long time. Feelings don’t last forever. There was a tap on the glass beside them. Another signal. This time, Connor heard it. Yet, he didn’t move, his eyes transfixed on the scene before him like it was something incalculable.
He felt Hank’s arms around him, and he jumped, shocked at the sudden touch. He lifted his own arms, and awkwardly wrapped them around the other. His head rested against Hank’s shoulder, and his LED spun blue. Once he had relaxed, the pain in his chest fading to nothing but a dull ache, the detective pulled away, and Hank’s hands remained on his shoulders. Gentle, but protective.
“I’ll be right here, watching the whole time. If something happens, I’ll shut this whole thing down.” Connor smiled at that, and though he didn’t need to, took a deep breath. In and out. “Thank you, Hank. I will return shortly.” He made his way to the door and pressed his hand against the reader, watching as it slid open, turning to his partner one last time.
“Oh, and Hank?”
“Hm?”
“I know you’re concerned about me, but I would like to reassure you-“
”Oh, shut it, I’m not concerned.”
”Really, Lieutenant? Your actions suggest otherwise.”
“Get outta here, Connor.”
“Hank, it is okay to be worried about-“
”Out! Go!”
~
Hank was more than concerned. He was terrified. He had spoken with Fowler before the meeting, wanting to know what they planned to do with the android. He had grown fond and protective of Connor, treating him like a father would treat their son, so when he heard that the DPD was hoping to “initiate emotional responses” from deviants as part of some sort of study, he couldn’t help but snoop around. Do a little research.
“It might be difficult for him.” Fowler had admitted, looking through the paper file that had been sprawled across his desk moments before. “They want to ask him questions, see how he feels about certain situations.” Hank glared at his superior, palms pressed against the desk. “And that involves what? Traumatizing him? Forcing him to go through all that...All that shit again? Jeffery, this is insane! You know this is insane!” The captain leaned back, sighing and rubbing the bridge of his nose before speaking up again. “Hank, we need information. These people know what they’re doing, I’m sure Connor will be fine.”
“Bullshit!” He slammed his hands down on the desk, shaking the photos and various knickknacks with his force. “I’m not letting you do that to him. He’s been through enough, for fucks sake.” Fowler’s response matched Hank’s volume, his anger burning through his calmed facade. “WE DON’T HAVE A CHOICE.” It forced the Lieutenant to jump where he stood, and then take a step back, running a hand through his hair and sighing in defeat.
“Look just...Just let me pull him out if it’s to much. Please?” The anger in his tone had left, and now he was speaking from the heart. He felt as if his old friend was staring straight through him. The words stung to say. The thoughts stung to think. “I...I can’t see him hurting. I can’t look at those stupid sad eyes of his, not after...” Jeffery turned away for a moment, then skimmed through the file once again. “Okay. Okay, fine.” Hank looked up at that, shocked and pleased with the response.
“You can pull Connor out of it if he...If he ends up reacting badly.”
Hank had agreed to those terms, and now he was here. Watching as his partner spoke to a woman he had never met, about the hardest points in his life. Stuck viewing the scene from the outside, hanging on to each muffled sentence. Watching Connor’s LED closely, waiting for a flicker of red. But Connor seemed calm, content. So far, so good.
The questions were simple at first. Asking how Connor felt when he first became deviant. If he was proud of himself for breaking free of his code, if he was scared to infiltrate CyberLife, if he worried for his comrades while they protested. He answered honestly, giving proper descriptions of his feelings and attempting to assign names to each of them. Then, it got harder. When he was asked what he felt when he spared the deviants at the Eden club, the two Traci models who had run off into the rainy night, he froze for a moment.
Most people would assume that Connor was just thinking, processing, trying to remember exactly what he felt. But Hank was not most people. He noticed the little things. The way the android cleared his throat, and drummed his fingers anxiously on the table. The way his gaze floated around the room, and his LED spun yellow for much to long. “Those deviants...They made me feel...” His eyebrows knitted together, and Hank stepped closer to the glass. “I was...I was scared. Scared of the way I would feel if I did shoot them, scared of how Hank would react.”
The blonde woman tilted her head, studying Connor quizzically. “Is that all you felt? Scared?” His fingers drummed faster against the table as he struggled to speak. Opening his mouth, only to close it again moments later. When he finally did find his voice, it came out a quiet, shaking tone. “I saw...I saw something.” He admitted, his gaze turning to the floor. “I believe I may have...Imagined something. Before I made my decision.”
The woman across from him sat up in her seat, clearly interested in the idea. Clueless to Connor’s discomfort, she spoke again. “What did you see?” The androids hand shook as he lifted it off the table, and he gazed at it with a shocked expression before laying it in his lap. Pulling closer to himself. Like he was trying to hide. Hank held his breath. The LED spun yellow. “The Traci models. They were...Compromised.”
Don’t push it, Hank thought, please don’t push it.
“What do you mean, compromised?” Connor’s LED spun red. He turned to the mirror, and Hank saw that look in his eyes. That sad, sad look. He didn’t even think, just slammed his hand on the reader and darted out of the observation room to save the poor, traumatized soul.
“Connor?” His voice was frantic as he made his way into the room, and when Connor turned to face him, his heart shattered in his chest. His LED was a bright red, his eyes wide with confusion, tears streaming down his cheeks. He was crying. Hank’s son was crying. He rushed to the poor boys side, kneeling in front of him.
“Hey, it’s okay son, I’m here. I’m here.”
He reached a hand out and placed it on the others shoulder, and only then did he realize that the android was shaking, as well. His eyes shifted to the woman across from them as she scribbled onto her clipboard. “We’re done for now.” She looked up from her notes, eyes glancing between the two of them, studying Connor’s petrified face for a moment more before standing from her seat. “Of course. I’ll leave you two alone.” Then she was gone.
“H-Hank I...I don’t understand what this is, I feel...I feel scared, Hank, like that night at the club.” He lifted his hands, studying them with curiosity. “I’m...Shaking. Why am I...Why am I shaking?” His voice broke as he attempted to speak, and Hank wrapped his arms around him once again, like he had before in the observation room. “It’s okay, Connor, it’s normal.” His arms lifted, wrapping around the man in front of him and laying his head against his shoulder. A sob forced it’s way from his throat. Hank didn’t dare to let go.
“I...I can still see that image in my head, of the...The-“ He gasped, just like a human would if they had held their breath for to long. Hank only pulled him closer, held him tighter, and rubbed soothing circles onto his back as an attempt to distract him from the thoughts. “You don’t have to think about it anymore, son, you saved them. It isn’t real.” He could feel Connor’s tears dampening his shirt, and his grip tightening around him, as if begging, pleading Hank not to let him go.
“Not real...” Connor mumbled, closing his eyes. “Not real, it isn’t real.” He gasped again, and when he did, Hank hushed him softly. “It feels like something is...Is stuck in my throat. It hurts, Hank, I-I don’t like it...”
“It’s okay.” The detective repeated. “Feelings don’t last forever, son.” The phrase seemed to calm him more than Hank anticipated, as he felt the other’s tense figure relax in his arms. Still, he didn’t move. He refused to move.
“Thank you for being concerned, Lieutenant.” Connor whispered, forcing a chuckle out of the other.
“Yeah whatever, kid.”