Chapter Text
Connor knows the exact amount of time he was held down in that tub, half under water, and half being drenched in the hot rain of the shower head. He flailed while Hank laughed for all of 2 minutes, and 7 seconds. The shock from the change in temperature made him shout out loud. Then with the melting of the ice in his blood, the discomfort melted away too. Suddenly, he had no plans to ever leave the warm water.
Seeing that Connor finally gave up in his struggling, Hank turned the faucet off. The shower stopped spraying. He said nothing, but his expression held a novel length story. A comedy where the main character successfully achieved vengeance. In short; Hank was looking all too pleased with himself. Smug and amused.
For some reason, it pissed Connor off. He made his displeasure known by glaring behind his ruined hair, that was now flattened over his forehead like a soggy curtain.
“Feel better?” Hank said. “Because I feel better. That’s for literally everything you’ve ever done to me since we’ve met.”
Connor didn’t grace Hank with a response. He only slid down further into the water until that water hit his upper lip. He was not going to admit to Hank that the warmth he’s been provided did in fact feel amazing.
“Stay there.” Hank strutted out of the bathroom, the Tom-foolery giving him an extra spring to his step.
This was like Ralph dragging Connor down the stairs all over again. But worse.
Both ended up being good for Connor, but did it always have to be so humiliating? His skin flushed from more than just the heat of the bath.
There was shuffling from the next room over. Suddenly, there was the sound of paws scratching against the wooden bathroom door. Sumo tapped the door twice to push it open enough for him to trot in.
Sumo locked eyes with Connor, opened his jaw up to make room for an excited few pants. His tail wagged as he made aim for the tub.
Connor shot his mouth open, to scream “SUMO, NO!” But seeing as he was half underwater, all that came out of him was some garbling and air bubbles.
Sumo bounded forward, leapt into the air, and crashed into the water, spilling it everywhere.
The walls, the floors, the mirror. All of it now drenched.
Sumo planted his butt right into Connor’s lap. With a happy bark, sumo rested his head down on the edge of the tub.
Not a minute after, Hank reappeared with a stack of towels and clothes in his arms. He took one glance at sumo, and barreled over in laughter, nearly dropping the pile in his hands onto the wet floor.
He rushed to put the stack down on the lid of the toilet so he could pull out his phone and no doubt snap a photo. He did it pretty quickly for someone who claimed to not even be able to change the setting on his phone.
“Alright, alright!” Hank said to Sumo after wiping away his tears of laughter. He grabbed sumo by the collar, away from Connor and out of the tub. “That’s enough, Sumo! It isn’t your turn yet.”
Sumo was wagging his tail, further spraying the room with droplets of stinky dog water.
“Those clothes and towels are for you. Get a move on! I’ll be waiting on the couch.” As he walked away, he called out as an after-thought, “-And put your dumb cyberlife uniform down on the sink! I’ll take care of it.” He kept mumbling to himself all the way down the hall, “-Can’t believe you were still wearing that thing under your jacket… couldn’t get like, a sweater or something? Pah! Fucking android…”
When Hanks grumbling finally faded away from ear-shot, Connor clumsily slipped himself out of the tub, then proceeded to peel away his soaked uniform. It seemed near impossible. The fabric seemed to stick to him, and Connor couldn’t move right. His limbs have remained heavier than they should, but he eventually managed.
He barely spent anytime drying off. As he was getting dressed into clothes two sizes too big, a very uncomfortable feeling began to grow in his stomach. The world began to tilt, and error message upon error message flooded his vision.
Warning! Minor damage to bio-component f#12A
Warning! Minor damage to bio-component f#36B
Warning! Major damage to bio-component f#77B
Warning! Minor damage to outer skull plating #3!
Warning! Thirium levels at 89% capacity!
Warning! Damage detected to 16% of self repair nano-bots! Purge imminent!
Warning! 16% of thiruim depletion via purge imminent!
Contact cyberlife for repairs!
Contact cyberlife for repairs!
Contact cyberlife for repairs !
Shit.
Connor threw the t-shirt over his head, and with all the speed his clumsy hands could muster, he threw open the toilet seat. The porcelain lid smacked loudly against the other side. He barely made it in time before a deep blue came pouring out of his throat.
He didn’t notice the footsteps running down the hall.
Well, if Hank had wanted this to be a perfect mirror image of that night Connor threw him under a cold shower, then Connor throwing up in his toilet completed the reenactment.
“Agh, gross Connor! Why didn’t you tell me you were gonna be sick?” It was reprimanding , but Connor felt a comforting hand on his back.
Connor counted down in his head how long it was gonna take for his friend to realize that he was an android… 3… 2…1.
“—Oh shit-…shit wait! You’re an android!” Hank pulled Connor back so he could get a better look at his face and the thin line of blue that dripped down Connor’s chin. “That’s your blood. You’re throwing up blood!”
Connor took in a deep breath. He tried his best to explain what was happening through each uncomfortable pant. “It’s fine Hank… there are nano-bots in my bloodstream… they- -“ Connor ripped himself from Hank's grip and bent forward for another round of ugly purging. Much to Hank’s horror. Connor leaned back again. “16% of them froze. Now they’re broken, so 16% of it has to be removed—“ Connor wretched for the last time. His HUD read; Purge complete! As if it were a, “Mission; Success”
Connor thought that was kind of funny.
Hank did not find any of this funny. “You’re losing too much blood!” As if Hank would know how much thirium Connor needed. He doesn’t. “What do I do?!”
Connor grabbed the towel he should have used to dry his hair with, and wiped away the thirium from his lips. “Unless you have some spare thirium lying around, then nothing. I’ll be fine for now.”
Hank helped Connor to his feet. “Yeah, I’m calling bullshit.” He proceeded to drag Connor out into the hall, one hand on Connor's forearm, the other resting between Connor's shoulder blades. “I’m not just gonna sit here and let you go into android anemia or whatever the fuck.”
Connor was guided to the couch, where he was once again, practically shoved into. Connor crossed his arms and huffed. He would make his displeasure at being man-handled known this time.
Hank, despite the absolute horror and worry he experienced through-out the day, laughed again.
Connor pouted, and Hank only laughed more. “What?!” Connor whined.
Hank became half bent over, eyes squeezed shut in unadulterated amusement.
“Th-the shirt… your expression… your g-goddamned HAIR.”
Connor looked down at his chest. He hadn’t taken a look at the kind of shirt he was actually wearing. It was just a black band shirt. Night of the Black Death. He raised a brow. He still didn’t see what was so funny.
“You look like you’ve gone into your edgy teen stage. You look like an emo kid.”
Hank spoke words, but Connor didn’t know their meaning. What is “emo?” None of this made sense,
“I have never been, and will never be, a teenager.”
“Yeah,” Hank said, finally composing himself. “If you did, you wouldn’t have been one of those kids, you would have been in the debate team. You would be winning spelling bee’s. Oh man…” he mumbled, wiping away the last of his tears.
Then he straightened himself out. He grabbed a folded blanket from the head of the couch, and wrapped it around Connor’s shoulders. “Thanks,” Connor mumbled, and pulled it tighter around himself. It was gonna take a little while before his temperature was back where it should be. But he was much more comfortable now.
Hank turned on the news and lowered the volume down to background noise. “It’s no problem. Hey, I gotta call off the search party. Let everyone know you’re safe. I’ll be back.”
Connor nodded. “I’m gonna call my friend, too. Let him know where I’ve gone.”
Hank stepped outside, and Connor turned his attention to the reporter on the screen.
“This just in, the government has filed a lawsuit against cyberlife for creating what is looking more and more to be a new form of sentient life. Meanwhile the drafting and debate of Markus’ new laws continue-“
At Markus’ name, Connor didn’t hesitate. He blinked, and the channel changed to some kind of cartoon. He didn’t care to know what it was about.
He had scanned Ralph about a month ago when they had first met. He knows his serial number.
…Calling Ralph…
“Ralph has never received a call before…Connor? Oh yes, this must be Connor. Ralph knows, because Ralph has never met another RK800. Hello? Yes! Hello Connor!”
He didn’t know why, but Connor found himself smiling fondly at the odd rambling.
“Hi Ralph, it’s me, Connor.”
“Yes, Ralph knows this. Ralph has already said that. Should I say who this is? This is Ralph.”
“Hi Ralph. Anyways… I uh… thank you for everything. The house is all yours again.”
“The house always belonged to Ralph?”
“Yes, of course! A friend of mine brought me to his house for-“ Connor paused. He realized that he had no idea how long Hank had planned on keeping him here. “-For a bit. He’s helping me with all that frost in my system.”
There was a pause on Ralph’s end. “You are no longer in Ralph’s house?”
Connor blinked. “Yes. I’m at my friend Hank’s house. He’s nice.” Nice is subjective.
“Will Ralph see you again?”
Connor was taken aback by the question. “I mean… if you want to? I’m still pretty curious about that ‘church’ you’re attending.”
“Oh! Ralph is still here! Ralph will tell you aaallll about it! You should join! Come with! Come with Ralph!”
Connor chuckled. “Okay, Ralph. That sounds nice. How about when I’m feeling better I’ll come to your house. We can have another one of those ‘sleep-over’s’, and we’ll head to church the next morning. Sound good?”
“Ralph just realized, that you can not see him nodding. Yes, this sounds wonderful! Connor?“
“Yes?”
“Are we friends?”
“Yeah, Ralph. You saved my life. We’re friends.”
“Oh this is great news! Ralph has always wanted a friend! Ralph thinks he and Kara are friends, but Ralph never knew for sure. Ralph is so happy! Goodbye, friend!”
Then Ralph hung up, and Connor officially changed their relationship status
Ralph^ Friend
Two friends. Officially. Nice.
Hank barrelled back inside, his phone hanging just below his ear. “Turn the news back on!”
He sounded urgent. Panicked. So Connor did what was asked of him. Connor whipped his head back around and blinked the cartoon away, switching the channel back to the news.
“Of the three bills Markus proposed to the senate, only one will be making it to the white house today, and will be signed by the president in the morning.
The first bill proposed that all androids be registered as Citizens of the United States, the details of which could not be agreed upon in the senate's debate. That bill has not passed.”
Hank sank down on the couch beside Connor.
“The second bill proposed by the deviant leader has not passed either, which stated that all currently owned androids be reclassified from property to employees and be paid the minimum wage per the existing state laws. This is to be further debated upon.
But the new android population will soon be able to sleep better, as the remaining bill to be signed by the president states that all androids have the right to emergency shelter services as well as the ability to rent apartments or book hotel rooms.”
“That doesn’t matter.” Connor whispered. He turned to Hank, who adorned an unreadable expression. “That doesn’t matter.” Connor repeated louder. There was something clawing at his insides. Perhaps it was rage. “What good is the ability to rent out a hotel room if you aren’t allowed to make any money to pay for it? How can we buy property if we have no form of legal identification that a citizenship would provide?”
Connor slid his hands away from beneath the blanket, and inspected how he flexed his fingers. It was much more fluid now, but they were slow. Hank put his free hand on Connor’s shoulder, trying to ground him. Connor doubted he could properly hold a pen right now. “We’re still nothing in the eyes of the law. Nothing but objects.”
“Simon- yeah I saw it.” Hank said as he lifted his phone back up to his ear. “I’m really sorry- no. He’s here. He’s not…”
Connor wordlessly held out his hand. Hank just looked at him in confusion, so Connor explained. “Let me talk to him.”
Hank didn’t warn Simon of the passing of recipients. He just put the phone in Connor’s hand, who struggled to grasp it properly.
“Simon- It’s me, Connor.”
“Connor! Hank told me he found you! He was trying to tell me about your condition, but I think you can see I got a bit distracted. I’m sorry. Are you alright?”
“I’m taking back what I said earlier. I’ll join Markus and Josh in Washington. I’ll need your help getting there.”
Hank blanched. “You can’t-“ Hank was horrified.
Simon stuttered on the other end. “W-wait. Wait really?” Simon sounded hopeful.
“I’m dead seri-seri-seri-
I’m dead -I’m dead -I’m dead-“
“Connor?”
“I’m dead serious, Simon.” Connor winced. Hank took the phone away and brought it back to his own ear.
“You heard him. He doesn’t know what he’s talking about. He can’t go out there yet!”
Connor’s eyes widened as his fingers started to twitch and flex involuntarily.
“He keeps getting these glitches. I-… he was half frozen solid when I found him this morning!”
Connor could vaguely hear Simon chatting away in Hanks ear, asking him question upon question. Connor tried to close a fist, which somehow made his whole arm jerk out instead.
“He-… I don’t know. He shut down once… I think… for like, a solid minute. Wasn’t moving. His LED went black. No! It’s exactly as I said! It went black! He-…” Hank was looking at Connor now. He looked frantic. “Okay. Okay, just… just don’t ask about… I thought maybe he panicked or something. Don’t bring up what made him run in the first place, got it? Okay.”
Hank silently reached forward, guided Connor’s hand to the phone, and helped him hold it up to Connor’s ear. “Connor, are you there?”
“I’m here.” Connor quietly confirmed.
“Good. I want you to tell me everything that happened from the moment you left us, until right now. You don’t need to explain to me why you did anything, alright? I just need to know what’s been happening. Hank said he found you in chains? Start there.”
“I…
I couldn’t move. I couldn’t let myself move. I went to an abandoned house, and chained myself up.”
“How long ago was this?”
“Three weeks ago.”
“Okay. The house, was it secure from the elements?”
“No. Most of the windows on the bottom floor were nothing more than wooden boards. I was upstairs. The window was cracked open.”
“…it’s been a very cold few weeks, Connor. How cold did it get?”
“I was only awake-awake-awake for about an hour per week. I don’t know.”
Suddenly, Hank piped in. “What happened to your head?”
Connor turned. “Huh?”
“Your head.” Hank’s eyes had gone wide. “There’s a gash in the back of your skull. I didn’t notice it before. You were wearing a hat. What happened to you head, Connor?”
Simon could apparently hear the conversation. “Connor…?”
Connor reached up slowly, he brushed the back of his head with his finger tips. It stung to the touch. He winced “… I don’t remember getting it…wait.”
Hank pulled the phone away and set it to speaker-phone. He slammed the phone down on the table and gently turned Connor to face away from him, so Hank could get a better look at the damage.
“Markus called me…he left a message… he wanted to know. He saw me… He saw-
Saw- saw - saw-
I’m dead serious, Simon.
I’m dead serious, Simon.
I’m dead serious Simon. I’m-“
“That’s enough, Connor!” Hank snatched Connor’s jaw to turn him back around. He looked sad. Angry, sad and tired. He said again, softer, “That’s enough, Connor. Don’t explain that part anymore.”
“I pitied you, Connor. I still pity you.” Said the ghost of Amanda.
Simon remained quiet. They all did for a few moments But it was ultimately Simon who broke the silence.
“So you’ve been under a bit of stress. What precautions, if any, did you take against the cold?”
Connor kept his eyes glued to Hank’s even though he was addressing Simon.
“I acquired warmer clothing. Jacket, scarf, hat and gloves.”
“Okay, good. The first week wasn’t too bad, if I remember right.” And they all knew Simon remembered perfectly. “But did you feel any effects the first time you came out of stasis?”
“I was cold. I was shivering.”
“Okay. But nothing else?”
“No.”
“Okay. System damage starts when your movements become slow. Did you start to feel slow at any point?”
“I don’t know. I wasn’t moving at all. I was chained still.”
“Right, right…” Simon blew out a puff of air “Hank said you were repeating yourself on a loop. You know that practically means you’re as good as dead, right?”
“In theory.”
“No, not in theory Connor. Cyberlife tests all their models rigorously when it comes to temperature stress. You know what causes the looping? Hank, I’m gonna say this in a way you’ll understand. CPU and RAM damage. That’s the human equivalent of brain damage.”
Hank's breathing hitched, but Connor remained stubborn. “I’m not a commercial model, yet. I’m a prototype. I’m meant to be able to handle a lot more than the average household model.”
“Did they pull the same specs from the arctic androids?”
“Well, no, but-“
“The article I read said that the most advanced androids on the market last about a week in below freezing temperatures.” Hank added. “You were out there for three before your friend came along. He didn’t warm you up until way after the looping began. And you still went without any heat all morning.”
“Connor… what do your diagnostics tell you?”
So Connor read it aloud. It hadn’t changed since it appeared while he was getting dressed.
“That’s… Connor, I need a moment to speak with Hank privately.”
“What are you gonna tell him that you can’t tell me?”
“Oh, I could tell you, but I have a feeling it will go in one ear and out the other.”
Connor huffed and laid the side of his head against the arm rest. He suddenly felt really tired. He’s been asleep for a long time, and he didn’t really want to go back into stasis. So he just rested instead.
Hank took the phone and stepped back outside.
Connor rambled on and on in his head. Didn’t they understand? Connor was literally built different. He’s a prototype for a line that was never finished. He’s literally a one of a kind! He’s not a housemaid model, a Tracy, and he’s not even like other law enforcement androids!
He was designed and built for the unforeseen. Anything could happen in espionage. They made every consideration when building him. They even considered what they wouldn’t be able to consider! He could handle the cold, in a stable shelter, while wearing a jacket.
Okay, yeah, so he might have received a little bit of damage. He had the ability to heal. He was fine.
Connor would be just fine. He doesn’t need anyone’s pity. He needs to get to Washington and become useful to someone again. That’s what he needs.
…
“Hank, I don’t know how better to say this. He should be dead.”
“Seems that way.”
“No, I don’t think you understand, he should have been dead weeks ago! He’s terrifying! If he were human It’d be like.. be like… we’ll, like if he got struck by a train, and the train pushed him into the road, and then he got hit by a truck, and then the truck backs up over him, and he just stands up and claims he’s got nothing more than a stomach ache. He has absolutely no idea how lucky he is to have a working brain right now.”
Hank snorted at the analogy, then quickly sobered up. “He was throwing up. Something about nano-bots.”
“I know that must have been scary to witness, but I assure you, that is the most normal thing that’s happened today. He needs to resupply his thirium, but he’ll be okay. Those nano-bots could have clogged up his systems had they not been purged.”
“Okay. But he’s still stuttering and moving all weird. It’s spooky as hell. Like a prop in a Halloween store.”
“That’s concerning. It shouldn’t just come and go like that. It should be a permanent sign that his systems are damaged. He shouldn’t even be able to speak now. He shouldn’t be able to think. Not after how long he’s been like that. If we caught him in the first hour it started happening, maybe I could understand him having some basic functioning left. But I know nothing about his model. Maybe it really wasn’t so damaging to him?”
“So what can I do?”
“Keep an eye on him. Help him test out some of his specialized programming and see if they’re all in working order. If anything strange happens, document it. Send it to me. I’ll help get him a technician, but it might take a while, there are a lot of androids over here who need technicians. Don’t get one yourself, they’re not very trustworthy right now. Especially if they’re from cyberlife. Wait for one of ours.”
“What about his blood?”
“Oh, right. It’s too low right now, but as long as he takes it easy, and I mean physically, he should be okay for a couple of days. No prolonged running or jumping or… you know what? You’re a human. Don’t let him excessively exercise. That should be a good enough comparison. His blood will evaporate with all the extra room in his veins and once he reaches 55% he’s dead. But, this is Connor we’re talking about so who really knows.”
“I have his manual.”
“Good. Read it. I’ll talk to Markus.”
“What? Why Markus? Isn’t he a bit busy?”
“He’s an RK200. Markus and Connor are the only known RK units in existence right now. Markus may be an older version, but he also has a tendency to survive things he shouldn’t. He got shot in the head once. The bullet is still there.”
These fucking androids… “Holy shit.”
“Tell me about it. Apparently these two are immune to death.”
“That’s truer than you’ll ever know.” Hank winced, remembering how Connor literally came back from the dead like it never happened at all.
“One more thing, lieutenant. Did Connor get hacked?”
Hank scratched the side of his face. “Seems like it. I tried to get more out of him, but then he decided to unplug himself, then plug himself back in.”
“…That’s why you didn’t want me to mention it. For Connor’s sake, I’ll avoid the topic for now. But Hank, you need to understand why I eventually need to know more about this. If he could get hacked… then what’s stopping whoever did it from hacking Markus himself? I need to know if it was an isolated incident. I need to know if it can happen again.”
“I get it Simon, I really do. Just… not right now. Give him some time. Let me get him fixed up first, alright?”
“…just. Just take care of him. He won’t seem to let anyone else help. Goodbye.”
“Later, Simon.”
Hank shoved the phone back into his pocket and rubbed at his face. Hank understood that Connor was not indestructible. He didn’t find it terrifying in the same way that Simon did. Because Hank had seen Connor die once. And he’s seen Connor fly off into near death situations again and again, because that idiot also seemed to believe he was invincible. Did he look at death like it were a challenge? Hank growled. Life was not a game. You shouldn’t be able to have as many chances as Connor has had. You know what? Fuck Connor. Why does he never learn? Doesn’t he know that he’s run out of chances? That the number on his blazer could never go up again?
That burning question at the back of his tongue, once forgotten about, was now reignited by Hank’s frustration.
He had meant to ask about his serial number weeks ago, but he had decided then that he didn’t want to know. Now Hank would use that question, not to please his curiosity, but to remind Connor about how mortal he really is.
He threw the door open and stormed back into the house, back around the couch, and planted his feet right in front of a peaceful looking Connor.
He looked so young. So comfortable. It almost made Hank feel bad for what he was about to do.
Hank took a throw pillow and whacked Connor on the side of his head. “You’ve done enough sleeping for a lifetime. Wake the fuck up!”
Connor only opened one eye. “Hank, today has been really difficult, so could I just rest for a little bit?”
“Do you remember that I told you a while ago that I had a question about your serial number?”
Connor sat up, dragging the thin blanket with him. “One that you never asked about. I take it you just remembered?”
“I decided I didn’t want to know the answer,” Hank shoved his finger at Connor’s chest. He gave him a rough poke. “But I think that you might need a reminder.”
Connor yawned. Was he supposed to do that, or was he he intentionally being a sassy piece of shit. A question Hank has found himself asking time and time again. “Ask away then.”
“52. You used to have a 51 on your blazer, but then you died in my place and came back with a 52.”
Connor only nodded while he waited for Hank to ask.
“Have you died 51 times?”
“In a way.”
“That’s not an answer.”
“Yes. I’ve died 51 times.”
Hank felt sick. “How? Haven’t you only been alive for a few months?”
Connor started to look uncomfortable. He looked like he was searching for something. “I only have one death in my working memory. Remember my field test I told you about? With the deviant holding that little girl hostage on the roof?”
“I thought you said you succeeded.”
“I did. I saved her. She’s still alive today.”
“Then how did it happen?”
Connor for a moment looked distant. First came fear, then frustration, then pleading.
Then all of a sudden, Hank regretted asking.
“I’m sorry, Hank. I don’t want to talk about this anymore. Whatever your point is, just say it.”
Hank sighed as he pinched his nose. “…Cyberlife can’t replace you anymore. Are you even the same Connor that died for me? Or is he gone, and you just carried on where he left off? Are you so self-sacrificing because you have such a skewed idea of what death really means? Because you’re used to coming back?”
Connor’s mouth hung open, whatever answer he had couldn’t make its escape. So he snapped his jaw closed instead.
“I don’t know,” he eventually said. Connor’s eyes became watery. Hank felt his chest fill up with guilt. “I don’t know!“
Implying that Connor might be a legitimately new person every time he died, just with the same memories, might not have been the most sensitive thing to ask.
Especially considering that meant there were 51 Connors just waiting in android heaven to see how the lives that should have been any of theirs would play out.
It wasn’t even necessary for Hank to ask that. It wasn't his point at all. It was just a cruel thing to say, and Hank knew it.
Connor’s LED was a dangerous red, and was flashing at the speed of an adrenaline fueled heartbeat.
“Aw fuck, Connor. I didn’t mean-“
“I-I-I dont know-know-know-know-“
Hank quickly took a seat and gently shook Connor by the shoulder. He was still looking ahead, where Hank had been previously. As if he was unaware that Hank had moved, or was at this point no longer looking at anything that was psychically there. “Come on Connor, I’m sorry. Just snap out of it!”
If only Hank were as good at comforting people as he was at pissing them off.
Suddenly, the channel on the tv switched. Hank completely forgot it was still on. It switched from channel to channel to channel, as Connor twitched and repeated the same words over and over and over.
Great. Connor was back on his poltergeist bullshit again.
He should be calming Connor down, instead, his eyes were glued to the rapidly changing scenes on his tv. Finally, it landed on an app of all things. YouTube was pulled up. The search bar was opened. Was Connor doing this?
“…Connor?”
Connor had stopped looping. He was staring at the screen with a blank look in his eyes. The only twitch now was from his eyes. That same twitch he always had when was interfacing with something. So it was Connor. “…It was on the news.”
Hank gave Connor a weary side-eyed glance. “What was on the news?”
A date was put into the search-bar. Along with two key words;
Detroit and Hostage.
Hank’s heart dropped. But he didn’t stop Connor either
He should have.
He watched from the perspective of a camera on a helicopter. He listened as the reporter narrated what was happening, who was trying his best to speak above the whirring noise of the helicopter blades and wind.
“The negotiator has just arrived on the scene.”
They zoomed in. A bullet flew. A flash of blue sprayed out from the negotiator's arm. Connor’s arm. But Connor didn’t slow down. He didn’t clutch at the wound. A machine feels no pain, right? But even before he deviated, Hank has seen Connor wince. Even if it was just for a moment.
Hank couldn’t hear what Connor was saying to the deviant. He just watched as Connor moved closer. Hank wondered briefly why he had never seen this before, but then he remembered the bender he was on back then. Before the androids started becoming alive, and demanding rights, Hank had not been one to watch the news.
“The android is still holding little Emma Phillips over the roof. I’ve never seen anything like this. Wait a minute… that’s an android. I repeat, they have sent an android instead of a human to save this little girl! The model is unknown at the moment. We can only hope that it was built for this. Can this android talk down another android? Is that even possible?”
The negotiator paused to help a fallen officer. He was still talking to the other android. Suddenly he made a signal for all the helicopters to leave, so the news pilot went further away, until they were only two dots on the rooftop.
He watched Connor creep closer and closer to the android on the edge, until they were only a few feet apart. Suddenly,
Connor had grabbed the little girl, and was falling in her place.
“Connor that’s enough!”
Connor stopped the clip, but there was a recommended video below it.
An on looker from below had recorded the impact, and labeled it
“two androids fall from rooftop. Smashed to bits.”
Connor selected it.
“I said stop! I get it! I don’t want to see that!”
But Connor let it play anyways.
The spinning lights of a dozen police cars flared in the camera lens. There was a blur of something coming from above. There was a sickening loud crunch. Plastic shards bounced off of the pavement, and flew all the way to the other side, and out of camera shot.
The moment they heard that crunch, Hank swore that he saw Connor flinch. Hank probably did too.
The cracks in the sidewalk became thin little rivers of blue, flowing from the ocean the two androids created.
Hank could not tell which pieces belonged to Connor or the other android. They had landed side by side. Both lifeless facing the polluted night sky.
The worst part about it, was that Connor’s LED flashed red three times before it went out for good.
“TV OFF!!“ Hank shouted. Sumo looked up from his dog bed, intrigued by the commotion.
Hank stood and bellowed out at a very much alive Connor; “WHY DID YOU DO THAT?!” Hank covered his eyes with both hands and swiped them down his whole face. “I didn’t need to see that… think I’m gonna be sick…”
“You wanted to know.” Connor said. There was a tinge of contempt in his voice. “I didn’t want to talk about it. So I showed you.” Then he turned his body, and layed back down, feet still on the ground.
“Look Connor, all I wanted to say was that your life is precious, and I might be a new concept to you, but you’ve used up all your extra lives. This is it. This is the last one.”
“And I just want to tell you, that I have only two deaths in my working memory. And both of those times, I know I made the right choice.” Connor ran his twitchy fingers through his drying hair, pushing it back into place. One curl creeped right back out again. Actually, his whole head was becoming more wavy as it dried. “And if I were thrown back in time, I would do it all again. Exactly the same. If I didn’t, neither you nor Emma would be alive today. So I regret nothing.”
Hank sighed. He shouldn’t have been so upset with Connor when he came back after taking those bullets for him. It wasn’t that Hank wished Connor would have just stayed dead, it was just unnatural. It seemed unfair that Connor could come back and Cole couldn’t-
Hank stormed off into the kitchen without another word.
He poured himself a glass of whiskey. Meanwhile, Connor closed his eyes and said nothing more about it. He didn’t dare sleep, because after everything that happened today, he was afraid of what he might dream of. But he couldn’t keep talking about this. He couldn’t keep on dwelling about the events of the day. He might just cry about it. And Connor does not cry. Standby will do just fine.