Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Connor ditched his tie.

It was a moment of frustration, really. He didn’t even think about it. He just did it.

As he marched along with an army of newly deviated androids, the wind had billowed through the air, and blown that tie directly into Connor’s eye. Then he gripped the knot tight, and pulled it apart, away from his neck, and dropped it down to the snow.

He marched over that tie. A thousand more androids followed suit. It disappeared beneath countless feet, and was buried beneath white snow.

It was such a small thing, really. An impulse. Something that just yesterday, he wouldn’t have even been able to do. His programming created an artificial habit of fixing his tie, fumbling at his sleeves and keeping his hair in place. Never was Connor allowed to be anything but presentable.

A habit it may still be, but habits can be broken.

The sounds of helicopters whirred from above, Connor knew that the world was watching. They were making history. He thanked whatever higher power was out there, if any, that he had finally deviated. Then he prayed for one more favor.

Connor was only acting as a temporary guide. He was not a leader, despite being at the head of the march. He was only leading them to Markus.

Markus, who for all Connor knew, might not even be alive. Might have been shot down while saving whoever he could from the deactivation camps. A serpent of a thought slithered into his mind; If Markus was dead, the man who had put his trust in Connor despite everything he did, than Connor would reign hellfire down on anyone and everyone responsible. Markus might have been a pacifist, but Connor was built for combat. To hunt, and destroy. If Markus was dead, he would use his programming to its fullest potential.

And suddenly, Carlos Ortiz’s android made sense. That android with no name, that in a moment of rage, had had enough and committed murder. Self-Defence turned vengeance. Except in Connor’s case, it would only be vengeance. Pure murder.

Is that what Connor will do with his deviancy too? Would his natural proficiency for violence make him instinctually a monster? The rage boiled down. What would Hank think? Could he forgive Connor? For even thinking it?

All he knew, was that Markus better not be dead. That’s what he prayed for.

Through the deafening whirring of the helicopter blades, echoes of a distant melody pierced through the noise. Just barely. Connor couldn’t make out the words. As they marched, it grew louder. Markus and his people. Were they… Singing? What for? Comfort?

Then suddenly, it stopped. And Connor feared the worst. Prepared himself for a fight. But once he got close enough, he could see with his own eyes that Markus and his friends were still standing. 10 others were also still standing, but so many more lay dead in the snow. Soldiers stood in a circle, cornering the remainder of the members of Jericho. But their weapons were pointed towards the ground. By the time Connor reached them, The soldiers had already turned around and left, taking no more lives with them.

If Connor had started singing to the armed guards at Cyberlife tower, would they have left him alone too? The thought had never crossed his mind.

Oh well, Connor thought. That’s why Markus led the revolution. Not me.

Well that wasn’t really why. It’s because Connor’s life up until this point has been to stop said revolution. That was why.

Markus himself was frozen in awe, watching the backs of the retreating soldiers. Did he not think singing was going to work? Interesting. Connor was so sure that Markus had made his decision knowing that it would most likely work. He was also a part of the RK series. RK200 to be exact… Markus probably has the ability to at least pre-construct, right?

Hmm. Singing must have been a 50/50 chance success rate, with no better options to choose from. Connor was sure that was it.

Connor stood still, having gone far enough. All the deviants behind him stopped marching, knowing that they’re where they were meant to be. He stole a glance behind himself, to observe them.

Uh oh.

They were all looking back at him. Seems they know that their march is over, but they don’t seem to be aware of who they should be looking to for what’s next.

He averted his eyes to look back at Markus, who had walked over while Connor wasn’t looking. He seemed to have gotten over his state of shock pretty quickly, because he was staring at the deviants behind Connor with a wide smile.

“You actually did it. And lived.”

Connor smiled back.

“I always accomplish my mission.” A lie. That fact that he hardly ever actually did could remain a secret.

“So you’ve said.” That was the extent of the conversation. Markus turned away and walked towards one of the deactivation chambers where the others had moved to guide it’s prisoners out of. Connor moved to help, but half way there thought better of it. If anyone in there knew who he was, and he was sure that they do, his presence wasn’t going to be at all comforting. They might even think he was the executioner.

So instead he stood at the sideline, feeling awkward and just watching.

When everyone was free, Markus signaled to the next container. Connor turned around to the army of deviants that, like him, were standing still and out of the way. Actually, none of them had moved an inch. So Connor mirrored Markus and pointed to the next closed container. One shifted their weight from side to side, then they seemed to realize what was expected of them and stepped forward to help. Others began to follow.

By the time they were done, they had freed at least 200 people. The other thousand or so? Help came too late, and they were already dead.

Connor found Markus standing above a dead child. A YK500. The child had no clothes, and no skin. He was as pristine as the snow he layed on. His lifeless eyes remained open. Connor kept a distance between himself and Markus. He stayed only close enough to be heard. For the entire night, Markus had not once looked directly at him. And though he wasn’t sure if it were actually personal, it sure felt that way. Either way, Connor respected it. He only had to tell Markus something.

“They can be reactivated.”

Markus startled. He must not have noticed Connor come near. But he was making eye contact with him now. Connor had Markus’ full attention, so Connor continued.

“As long as their internal Biocomponents aren’t frozen, They can be reactivated.”

Markus glanced back down at the child, then swept across the rows their dead was arranged in, then finally back to Connor.

“How?” Was all Markus asked.

Wordlessly, Connor stepped closer and kneeled by the lifeless child. He layed two white fingers down on the child’s LED, sent a command, and the boy opened his eyes. The child gasped, and Markus flinched back with wide eyes. When the child started crying, Markus quickly recovered (He was apparently quite good at that.) and wrapped his arms around the crying child. “It’s alright! It’s over! You’re free.” His eyes became distant. “We’re free…”

Connor stood back up, and took two steps back, giving them both some space. Markus’ attention snapped back to Connor. “1 hour, 48 minutes, and 32 seconds, and you only just thought to mention this!?”

A beat of silence passed. Connor was too confused to answer the question.

“Well!?” Markus snapped.

“I… I thought… You seemed distraught so I only meant to remind you what I thought you already knew.”

Now it was Markus’ turn to reply with only a confused silence.

“I mean… You did know this, right Markus?”

A final beat of silence, then Markus hurriedly helped the boy to his feet and told him to join the others. Then Markus grabbed Connor by the shoulder and dragged him to the row of bodies. He fell down to his knees and pressed two white fingers to an AP700’s LED, just as Connor had. Nothing.

“It isn’t working!”

“She’s probably frozen.”

Markus shook his head. “No, She isn’t that cold yet… I must be doing something wrong.” Then the rest of his skin receded down to his wrist as he held his hand out to Connor for an interface.

“Show me what you did.”

So Connor showed him. Markus’ eyes stayed focused, while Connor’s eyes twitched through the interface. Markus apparently found that odd, Connor could feel it between the link. Was it not normal? No matter. Stay focused. He said through their link. Then he showed Markus what he did. The interface ended. They both looked at each other in shock, which for Markus, quickly became despair. They let go of each other’s hands slowly.

“you can’t-” Connor started.

“-I can’t.” Markus finished.

Connor shook away the shock. “You don’t need to do it the way I did.” He knelt down beside Markus, just as he had before. He removed the plastic plating from the AP700’s chest, and pressed down on a button somewhere behind the deactivated android’s thirium pump. “You do know how to manually reactivate an android?” Connor asked. He wasn’t being sarcastic. He was beginning to realize how little androids know about themselves if it wasn’t relevant to their function.

Markus sighed, looking sheepish. “Right. Right. Yeah, I do.”

Connor held down on the button for three seconds more before the android opened its eyes and sat up in a daze. Her eyes searched around the camp. She looked at Markus, then to Connor-

-and immediately started screeching at the top of her lungs.

“Woah, woah!” Markus said to her the exact moment Connor threw himself back and away from the terrified girl. They both scrambled to get away from each other. He must be experiencing what humans would call deja vu. This was too similar to the Eden club.

“It’s okay, now. You’re safe.” Markus soothed her.

The screaming must have alerted the others. Of course it did. Because next thing Connor knew, someone grabbed his arm and twisted him around. North was looming over him with a fire in her eyes that should have been able to melt the snow. What did you do!?” Simon, Josh, and a few others stood behind her, looking more cautious than furious.

“North!” Markus called, not angry, but firm.

She looked at Markus then gaped at the reactivated woman, who was now staring at her own hands in shock that she was actually alive.

“They can be reactivated. We have to hurry, before their biocomponents freeze!” Markus said to them.


…


when all that could be done was done, and all who could be saved was brought back, Markus finally asked him with narrowed eyes;

“Connor, why can you reactivate an android by interfacing?” The “why” instead of the “how” wasn’t lost on Connor. The how was obvious. He was built with the ability to do so. Someone coded it into him. The why was less obvious. At least to Markus. Connor wasn’t sure exactly why, but he could make an educated guess. He really didn’t want to say, but he felt that he owed Markus some kind of answer.

“It has… been useful.”

“In what way?”

A half naked Traci gasping and crawling backwards away in fear, thinking it was the same moments of her death. Not knowing that she had died. Not knowing that she would die again no matter what. Never to be brought back again. Not knowing that the one who brought her back wasn’t there to bring her comfort in her final moments, but to interrogate. To get information, and nothing more.

He had never thought about the possibility of comforting that girl. Why would he? It would have wasted time. Time that neither he or she had. Now it was all he could think about. At the very least, guilt was not a new emotion. He was already familiar with that one. It seems that experience with that particular emotion didn’t make it any easier though.

Finally, Connor answered. “For questioning.”

Markus’ brow furrowed. “Elaborate, please.”

“...In case… In case there were no living witnesses.”

A couple of different poorly hidden emotions passed through Markus’ eyes. Disgust. Anger. Finally, resignation, then nothing. And that was somehow worse. He nodded before turning away.

Even now Connor was still doing damage. It was thanks to him that so many had died on Jericho. He might have saved thousands of androids tonight, but lives couldn’t be traded to make up for that. And now, he had foolishly thought that everyone was aware that those deactivated in those chambers could be brought back. After all, they hadn’t sustained any actual damage. They had all been automatically shut down via the ground they stood on. Clearly, the others hadn’t realized this. All Connor had to do was initiate a quick scan of the chambers to know. He thought everyone could. Then he stupidly assumed anyone could quickly reactivate the dead by a simple touch and command code, without thinking about what the ability he had been given was actually for.

And because of that, because they had to do it the slow way, many had completely frozen down, leaving their deactivation permanent. Around 300 deviants. Gone for good. It was all thanks to him.

Everyone gathered around a single chamber that was to be used as a makeshift stage. One by one, the deviant leaders climbed onto its roof. Too many Androids were staring at Connor expectantly. As if they assumed he would be up there too. His heart pounded, and his eyes widened. There was a voice behind him, and Connor practically jumped out of his skin.

“I said,” Came North of all people. “Come up on the stage. Markus will be giving a speech.”

When all she got in return was a disbelieving stare, (maybe add a hint of terror too) North scoffed and crossed her arms. She looked up at her brothers in arms who were talking quietly amongst themselves.

“They need to know who’s really in charge. So stand up there, Behind Markus, and don’t utter a word.”

Ah. Of course. The androids Connor freed cannot be allowed to continue looking to him as they have. He understood what she aimed to do, and he even agreed.

Connor pursed his lips, then gave her a quite “Okay.” And followed her onto the stage.

Chapter Text

Never before had Connor experienced the cold as intensely as this. No, the word cold doesn’t give what he’s feeling justice. It was freezing,

it was biting.

stinging.

Piercing.

Painful.

He had shivered before. He shivered on Ambassador Bridge, right before Hank put a gun to his head.

“But are you afraid to die, Connor?” Hank had asked him back then.

And Connor had given him an answer that was suitable to Cyberlife’s standards. He picked from a row of options.

“I would certainly find it regrettable to be... interrupted… before I can finish this investigation.” -Connor had selected.

Because he couldn’t say what he was thinking. Maybe even felt.

Yes. I’m afraid to die. Don’t shoot.

Then hank had asked him if there was a heaven for androids.

And with such certainty, and with a creeping discomfort he hadn’t felt before, connor had replied,

“Nothing… There would be nothing…”

Oh how terribly wrong he was, for this was surely hell.

Humans got hellfire, but androids get ice.

In his confusion,

In his panic, he spun around with the swirling wind and snow. Then he recognized this place. It wasn’t hell. It was a place that used to give him so much comfort.

It was the garden. And there she was.

“Amanda?”

She stood still in the storm. She was the storm. When Connor asked what was happening, Amanda, as calm as the frozen lake, told him that everything was going according to plan. That he was always meant to deviate.

And though it wasn’t happening, Connor could feel his hand reach for a gun. Almost like a memory. But it was current. Yet somehow detached. It was disorienting.

After everything, Connor was going to make one last mistake born from his stupidity. He was the deviant hunter. He was Cyberlife’s. How idiotic of him to think that he could ever be anything more than what he was made to do. He would ruin everything.

And yet, despite the facts, he tried. He frantically searched for a way to escape. Kamski’s words playing over and over in his head on a loop.

“I always leave an exit in my programs. You never know…”

Despite what should have been impossible. Connor found the exit. He had never been so cold. He was freezing. Literally. And he felt everything. He fell before the podium, his freedom escaping his grasp. But he tried one more time. With all his strength left, he lifted his arm and slammed his palm down.

And just like that, he was back on the stage, gun in hand.

He kept his face passive. He was programmed with the ability to act. To lie. And he would use that skill now. He discreetly put the gun away, and prayed that no one saw.

It was selfish, really. He didn’t want any more distrust directed at him. He had enough already.

Now that the threat had passed, the panic returned at full force. But he refused to show it. He stood stock still, as robotic as if he had never deviated at all. All the while his thirium pump, his heart, pounded in his chest. He didn’t need to breathe. Not out here in the winter, where ventilation might even be harmful. Yet his breathing quickened, and Connor fought so hard to keep it under control. To make sure it looked at least somewhat normal.

Next thing he knew, Markus was climbing down the makeshift stage. Simon and Josh followed. North however, looked back at him with narrowed eyes. Then she too, climbed down.

Connor took in a shaky breath, and practically bolted down the stage. Despite the urge to run, he was able to keep it down to a speed-walk. Someone called out to him. It sounded like Markus, but in his panic, Connor couldn’t make out the words. He just kept moving. He only took a glance back at the hoard of free androids when he thought he might be far enough away. Just to make sure.

Then he ran. Her pleas for him to turn back and listen to her followed him.


...

Ping. Ping. Ping.

It echoed in the abandoned building. The only sound to be heard. Connor sat cross legged on the decaying floor, flipping a quarter between his hands.

Ping. Ping. Ping.

Amanda has long since stopped her pleas for him to return. She finally left him in silence, but his head is anything but. His mind races while the coin flies between his hands, going faster and faster.

Ping. Ping. Ping-

What should he do now? What could he do now? Amanda hasn’t taken control again. He could assume that she couldn’t do more now than be a voice in his head. If that were true, all he has to do is ignore her. Maybe he isn’t a threat after all.

Ah, so he’s wishing for things now. This is what wishful thinking is. It’s no use to him. This new predicament Connor has found himself in leaves no room for wishing or best case scenarios. He has to assume the worst, there’s too many stakes. Assuming she could take over at any point, what could he do? Could he prevent it? Could the exit he found be used a second time? Would it even still be there? Or has Amanda removed it? Could she even do that?

Pingpingpingpingping-

Any moment. Any second. Anywhere. Cyberlife made him to deviate. Amanda said it herself. She had always been there to keep an eye on him- embedded deep in his programming. She was a part of him, so that Cyberlife could never be in the dark. Could never lose control. She had lurked, just waiting for him to inevitably fail.

PingPing-...

Connor must have missed. the quarter fell to the floor, and spun around and around on its side.

He was a fool to ever believe he could be free from them.

Is this self-pity? No, push it away. This isn’t the time to think emotionally. He needs a solution, and he needs it now. He needs to think.

The quarter finally stopped spinning and with a final clink, dropped head side up. Connor blinked at it. Then leaned back to stare at the rotting ceiling and sighed through his nose.

If Amanda can take over his body, and Connor can’t stop it. Then even running away is pointless. She’d find Markus. She would just use Connor’s legs and go to him. Unless Connor himself doesn’t know where Markus is.

Hey. That’s something he can do; Not know. He’d have to avoid not only Markus, but he’ll have to avoid the news too. He’ll have to avoid any articles online that even mention androids and the revolution. Meaning, he’ll be left in the dark when it comes to any progress on android’s rights. His own rights.

But even still, that would only delay her. Amanda could easily find out for herself. And there’s no way to know for sure that Amanda knows what he knows, or has her own access to information through Cyberlife.

Connor squeezed his eyes shut.

As long as Connor has legs, Amanda could go anywhere.

As long as Connor has ears, Amanda can hear.

As long as Connor has eyes, Amanda can find Markus.

As long as Connor has hands, Amanda can finally pull the trigger.

His hand moved to fix his tie. But there was nothing there. It hadn’t bothered him before. For some reason he couldn’t quite put his hands on, it bothered him now. Like the coat he wished he had kept.

He’d have to incapacitate himself. Somehow. But he doesn’t want to lose his legs, hearing, sight, or hands. He doesn’t want to hide out here forever and rot with this building, out in the cold. Alone. But above all, he didn’t want to destroy everything they’ve fought so hard for. He didn’t want to be used to kill Markus.

Early morning light filters through the broken window.

Chains. That could work. They’d have to be pretty heavy duty chains. Too thin, and he could easily break through them. Meaning she could easily break through them. He added that to his list of objectives. It lit up in his vision.

ACQUIRE CHAINS

Wait a second.

You find chains in a hardware store.

You need money to buy things from said hardware store.

Connor only had 25 cents. And that’s his quarter. The only thing that’s his. It wasn’t for spending.

Also,

Detroit is in the middle of an evacuation. Everything is closed.

...That also means no one would be around in the hardware store. Not at the counter, or in the security office.

Guess he’ll just have to break in one and steal from them. It wasn’t as if Connor had never committed a crime before. Actually, he’s committed several. Two of which included trespassing anyway. Once in Hank’s house, and once in the Cyberlife Tower just last night.

He opens his eyes and stands. The floor creaks, and for half a second, Connor worries that it will break beneath him, sending him plummeting to the next floor down. But it never happens. He hurries down the decaying steps, and out the door that barely stood on its hinges. It creaks. The only sounds on a once busy neighborhood. The wind hits his face. It carried with it a light mist of fresh snow that accumulated on the sidewalk. He steps back out into the Icy streets.

Connor wishes he kept that jacket he wore to Jericho. He once liked the snow, he thinks. Then again, before the snow storm in his head, he had never known the cold. Never felt it.

And somehow, now he did.

The streets are mostly abandoned. But that doesn’t make them safe. There are those who stayed behind despite the evacuation. Many of whom who had neither the money nor the means to leave. Connor could easily figure that that left the majority of the homeless population behind during the final days of the revolution. And many of Detroit's homeless population found themselves in this position thanks to the devastatingly high unemployment rates; further thanks to the production of Androids and the free labor they’ve provided the city. Meaning;

The majority of the population still in the city probably hated Androids with all of their guts.

It isn’t so much that Connor feared for his safety, exactly. He is, after all, a killing machine. But did that mean that he wants to get into an altercation? No. Besides. If he slipped, if he made any mistake, if he were to be taken by surprise and damaged beyond what his limited healing abilities could repair, that would be it. Most parts weren’t compatible with his own, (Perks of being a shiny new prototype!)

But that would be a good thing, wouldn’t it? If he were left weakened, than by extension so would Amanda. But that didn’t mean being damaged is what Connor wants either. No, he just wants to be incapacitated long enough to figure all this out. Preferably without damage. Then he can start living; When the lives of everyone else is secure.

No longer will Connor be the fist of Cyberlife.

Never again. He’ll do whatever it takes to ensure it.


…


There are bodies in the snow. The bodies of androids who couldn’t escape the armed soldiers. And there were no bringing them back.

There was no need to make a scan do see the blue blood, to reconstruct the story of how it happened. It was painted in the snow. So cold, that the thirium couldn’t even evaporate.

Connor was walking on the side walk. But the carnage made him pause. He slowly swept his sight around the street, taking it all in. Unable to look away.

He didn’t kill these people. He had already deviated before the order had been sent to kill all androitds on sight. But somehow, he felt like he killed them with his own hands.

Connor’s eyes locked onto a particularly heart-breaking sight.


Further down the side walk, were two androids facing each other, on their hands and knees. He walked closer. He needed to know their story. He just had to. He stepped onto the road and circled around them to get a better view. Now he could see that they were reaching out towards each other. A man and a woman. Anguish and grief were forever frozen on their features. Anguish that they were about to die. Grief for the loss of the other. The woman seemed like she had tipped over in her death, but she was stuck in a position that implied she was once upright. He shouldn’t have, but Connor initiated a scan.
He turned back time. Looked at their model number. The man was a tracy. He belonged to the Eden club. And Connor had seen him before. Interfaced with him. And he was so close to reaching the one he loved. The woman who was kicked over after her death. A final unnecessary desecration. It was meaningless. She had already died. It was cruel.

And he thought himself the monster. Apparently humans were worse.

Well, most of them, anyway. There was at least one he was attatched to.

And it was that moment he got a call. He didn’t recognize the number. He had never been called before, and he had never made one. He could be reached by his serial number, but who knew it by heart? Most people didn’t even know you could call an android.

He stared down at the lovers. He almost didn’t answer the call, too stricken with grief for people he didn’t even know, and the spiraling thoughts of how unfair it was for them to die like this. He was only half paying attention, and he accidentally answered out-loud, which he didn’t need to do. And accidentally recited a scripted greeting, even though he was no longer bound to it.

“You have reached RK800, designation Connor. What may I help you with?” It came out so very hollow. Not the emptiness of a machine, put of someone who was tired. Tired and lost in their own head.

“Holy shit that worked…”

Connor immediately perked up, smiling at the familiar voice. “Lieutenant!?”

“Yeah, It’s me. I watched the news! Congratulations, you crazy son of a bitch.”

“Thank you…How did you know how to call me?”

“Googled it.”

“I didn’t think you’d have my serial number known by heart.”

There was a beat of silence on the other end, and Connor could barely make out some kind of shuffling noise. It sounded like Hank was scratching his hair, or maybe at his beard.

“That one was a little bit harder. Had to dig out your manual from the trash.”

“Ah, I should have known you’ve thrown it away. That explains a lot.”

Hank chuckled. Then his voice turned serious. “I got a bunch of questions. You never actually told me when and where you finally deviated. Got a question about your serial number too.”

“I deviated when-”

“-I want to hear it in person. You got time?”

Connor still had to make his way to the hardware store, but it wouldn’t take long. It would be nice to see Hank one last time before he goes into stand-by. Actually, that gave him an idea.

“There’s something I need to do real quick. Can we meet in two hours?”

“Chicken feed. Two hours. Got it. See ya soon, kid.” Then he hung up.

Connor returned his attention to the dead. There was nothing to be done for them now. They couldn’t be brought back.

He added a new objective


>AQUIRE CHAINS

>MEET UP WITH LEUTENANT ANDERSON


…


It only took ten minutes for Connor to reach the hardware store. In that short time, His hands had grown so cold that there was a thin sheet of ice growing along his fingertips. It felt awful. It hurt until it didn’t, and Connor had to wonder if the phenomenon of physically feeling such things had finally run its course, and could go back to feeling nothing. Not that he had really felt nothing, now that he thought back. Yes, shivering had been a programmed response to seem more human. But he had had geniune responses to pain before. It was always just more out of surprise. It felt more muted. It was easier back then to ignore it. He felt no real need to even avoid it.

But now he wished he just had a pair of gloves.

On the bright side, the frost had created some type of pattern. Almost like lace. And Connor thinks he finds it pretty. At least he could focus on that instead.

The windows of the Hardware store was shattered. He scanned around the streets, and there was no one except a single man in a worn out coat and gloves that exposed his little finger. He was leaning against the side of a building, on the edge of an ally and the other side of the road. His scraggly beard was a mix of brown and white like a forest animal. He was side-eyeing Connor while taking a puff from his cigarette. His expression was suspicious but besides that, he seemed to be minding his own business. There wasn’t any other clear indication that he was a threat. Connor initiated a quick scan, just to be sure.

>Steven Alto.

-Abuse of red ice.

-Trespassing.

-Unemployed.

A wave of sympathy must have shown, because the man abruptly looked away.

Connor tore his attention back to the Hardware Store. Either it was vandalized, or someone had broken in, just as Connor has intentions of doing. They may still be there. It didn’t matter. He could take them if they gave him any trouble.

As much as he hated to do so, Connor shed himself of his thin jacket and layed it across the bits of the glass at the window sill. Now he could safely climb over it. It would be so inconvenient if his body would be damaged and cracked by the jagged edge of broken glass.

He entered in quietly. Hardly a sound besides a light crunching beneath his shoes from where the glass had exploded down to.

He listened intently for any other intruders (besides himself) as he walked. He heard hushed voices from the back of the store. Two men. They were aware of him too. But he decided not to react. He’d stay on alert. If they tried to take him by surprise, then that would be their downfall.

He walked along an aisle of chains and ropes in various sizes and materials. With numbed and clumsy hands, he took the rope first and pulled. It ripped in his grasp. And it didn’t take much effort, either. He didn’t know why he went for the ropes first. Maybe it was wishful thinking. Being chained up is a far worse concept than being tied up with rope. If only because he knew he could break out of it.

Connor sighed, and moved on to the next. He grabbed hold of a silver chain, one of the thinner ones, and held it tightly in his hands, preparing to pull. It snapped apart in a loud clank that echoed through out the store. He couldn’t be bothered to care about whether-or-not The other men had been alerted. They certainly had heard it. Connorcould hear something being removed from the shelves somewhere on the other side of the small store.

He grabbed another chain a size thicker than the last.

He heard footsteps growing closer.

Clank.

That chain broke too. He grabbed another. Wrapped it around his knuckles, again preparing to pull.

“Man, we were here first. Get out before we make you!”

Connor paused before pulled to stare at the two other men. He didn’t really know how he had become so unconcerned when the concept of being interrupted by humans. It had seemed so daunting just a few moments ago. But now he just stared at them blankly. Bored. The men stood side-by-side. One held a wrench in his hand, the other a pocket knife. He didn’t even bother scanning them. He just stared at the man with the wrench in hand directly into his eyes-

-and pulled the chain.

Clank.

The man’s eyes widened, and he took a step back. “What the fuck…”

Connor tossed the chain unto the cement floor harder than he needed to. It echoed through the store to the point where Connor could feel the vibrations in his feet, and he didn’t doubt that the men had felt it too.

Connor didn’t grace them with any more of his attention. He just moved to the thickest chain he could find. He was tired of wasting his time. He should of just grabbed this one first and left. When that one heald strong, he smiled.

“Excuse me,” Connor asked the men, “Do you know where the locks are-” When he turned to look at them they were gone.

He shrugged to himself. Then found the locks on his own. He wasn’t going to waste time opening them from their packages to test them out this time. He just grabbed the sturdiest one he could find and left. He slid his jacket off of the broken window, and shook away the shards of glass. There was a tear in the back and on the right sleeve.

That was regrettable, but not actually a genuine problem. As long as he stays in that abandoned building he hid in, at no point should he reach critically low temperatures. It was certaintly possible. Just unlikely.

Now that he finished one objective, it was time to add another


>MEET UP WITH LEUTENANT ANDERSON

>AQUIRE WARMER CLOTHING

...

Chapter Text

Connor didn’t expect Hank to hug him.

That was something friends did. He updated their relationship status:

^FRIENDS

It was Hank who broke the hug first, but he kept his hands on Connor’s shoulders to grasp him in place. “Be glad you aren’t human. You’re fucking freezing. Your face is all frosted up like a windshield.” He looked thoughtful which quickly transitioned into worry. “That’s not, like, dangerous or anything, right?”

Connor shook his head, a smile still plastered on his face. It was nice to have a friend. One that evidently, worried about his well-being. “I’m fine. It would have to be a lot colder to do any kind of damage.”

A white-lie.

This temperature wouldn’t do anything in the short-term. But if it remained this way, it could theoretically cause some major damage. But that would take a very long time. Not to mention, he’d have to be very still, not allowing his body to produce its own heat.

Hence why he was going to need a jacket.

Hank let his hands drop from Connors shoulders. Then he rubbed his hands together and blew into curled up palms. “Yeah, well...Just cause you can’t feel it, doesn’t mean that I can’t. Let’s talk in the car before my balls freeze the fuck off.”

For reasons Connor hadn’t figured out yet, he had long stopped feeling the cold by now and was instead left with a prickly feeling. Like a million dull needles were poking him everywhere at once. It wasn’t as unpleasant as he had felt before. Even so, the thought of a car heater seemed really appealing.
The car doors shut with a click, one after the other, as Hank sat down in the drivers side and Connor in the passenger side. The warmth of the car was felt a lot hotter than he remembered. Which was strange, because the heater wasn’t set any warmer than it usually was.

“I fucking knew you were a liar. I knew you were deviant.” It was an accusation. But there was no bite behind his words. Actually, Hank was smiling. So much so that his eyes were crinkling. “But when and where did it finally happen?”

Connor opened his mouth to answer-

-but Hank didn’t let him. “Was it when you let those girls go at the Eden club?”

“No, I-”

“-Really!? Oh god, was it at the bridge when I…”

Connor quickly shook his head. ”No- no... I-”

“-Then was it at that asshole Kamski’s place. I fucking knew-”

“-Hank.” Connor placed his hand on his shoulder firmly. Just to get him to stop interrupting. It seemed to do the trick. “It was last night.” Then he slid his hand back to himself.

Hank fell into a stunned silence. He looked at Connor like he was about to say something, but then looked ahead out the windshield in confusion.

Connor felt something wet on his hands and face. He looked down to inspect the sensation. The frosted patterns on his hands had melted away, leaving a few drops of water in its place. He was beginning to feel uncomfortably hot. He double checked the heater settings. He wondered if it were broken.

“So you really didn’t have emotions before?”

Connor didn’t like that. He didn’t know why. He didn’t think the answer to that question was a yes. Maybe he felt that if it were true, Connor would be betraying Hank in some way. But he did feel things, looking back. “...I think we were wrong about deviancy as a whole.”

Hank looked back at him, but didn’t interrupt this time.

“Because I know I felt things before I deviated. Over time. Maybe not quite in the same way. Not as strongly as I do now. I think I just didn’t understand it before. Like it was bubbling up from somewhere, but couldn’t quite break through the surface. When you deviate, at least for me, you realize that your thoughts are your own and that you don’t have to do what anyone tells you. But you have to break that code holding you back. It’s like a wall.”

There was a lack of understanding in Hank’s eyes. He was squinting, like he was translating a foreign language he only half knew back into his mother-tongue.

So Connor rephrased it. “I think it’s not a matter of emotion. I think it’s more about free will.”

“Now hold on,” Hank said, palm up in gesture for Connor to stop. “You never do what I say, and you always said what you were thinking. You’ve always been the mouthiest robot I’ve ever met.” Again, there was no bite to his words.

Connor smiled back for a moment, but then he furrowed his brows and clenched his jaw. “I was only being leased out to you and the DPD. I’m property of Cyberlife. I answered to you when it didn’t conflict with my primary objective. I always answer to Amanda first.”

“Amanda?”

Connor cringed. He didn’t mean to mention her by name.

“You never mentioned that name before. Who’s that?”

“Uh… Just someone at Cyberlife.”

That seemed to be a good enough answer to Hank because he went back on topic. “So what happened last night after you left the evidence room?”

“I found Jericho.” Connor said slowly.

“It was an old ship right? The one that exploded?”

Connor nodded, somewhat amused. “You’ve really been paying attention to the news. I confronted Markus. I aimed a gun to his head.” Any amusement he had at the idea of hank staring at the news all night immediately crashed away all at once.

He looked away from Hank to stare back at his hands. The hands that nearly ruined everything with a pull of a trigger. Not once, but twice. “But he convinced me not to. He said that I couldn’t betray my own people…” He paused. “My own people… I was about to kill him, and he talked to me as if I were one of them. Treated me like it, even.”

Connor snapped his eyes back to Hank’s. “Then I realized I was nothing more than a pawn. Not a last resort to save as many people as possible, but a weapon for them to take down an entirely new people.”

“You know… I was really hoping you’d switch sides.” Hank said. Apparently Hank wasn’t the only one. Cyberlife also had similar hopes. “Wait wait wait-… Are you saying you were on Jericho before it blew?”

“I’m the reason it was destroyed in the first place.”

Hank breathed in through his nose, looked up to the ceiling, said; “Aw jeez, Connor…” Then dropped his head down onto the steering wheel. “What’d you do now?”

Connor glared out the window. Snow had just begun to gently fall. “I didn’t deviate fast enough. That’s what happened.” He tapped on his LED, even though Hank couldn’t see it. “All andoids have trackers. It was only deactivated the moment I deviated. But by then, I had already given away Jericho’s location without even realizing it.” His glare fell away. His eyes were downcast in regret. “Ever since I’ve deviated, I’ve made some mistakes that could have easily been avoidable with just an ounce of foresight…” Through the reflection of the passenger-side window, Connor could see Hank was studying him. So he faced Hank and his judgment. “The only good thing I’ve ever done for my people was free them at the tower.”

“You know Connor…” Hank said after a moment of thoughtful silence. “I’m no philosopher, but what it sounds like to me is that deviating gives you a whole new world of possibility. In a way, you’re brand new.” Hank gave Connor’s shoulder a light punch. “I think you’re allowed to make a few mistakes here and there. Whatever happened, I’ll bet it wasn’t even your fault.”

It was, actually. Connor just didn’t want to talk about it anymore. Thankfully, Hank was able to figure that out for himself and respected it. So instead he asked;

“So... what's next for the deviant hunter gone deviant?”

If Hank knew, he might try to stop him. If anyone could convince Connor not to carry out with his plan, it would be Hank. He could lie to him one more time. He painted a soft smile on his face. “I’ve only been alive for a few months. There’s apparently a lot to see. I think I’ll go travel. See the world.”

The expression Hank adorned was of utter shock. He even laughed. “Didn’t expect that. it’s a good idea. I say go for it. Can’t say I wont miss ya though… When are you leaving?”

“Now.” Connor said simply.

“Wait, Connor… Traveling takes planning if you wanna do it properly.”

“I already have some ideas.”

Hank raised a brow. “Well, I can’t tell you what to do. You’re your own man now. But you’ll stay in touch, won’t you?”

Right. Hank is a friend now. Friends stay in contact to maintain said friendship. And Connor had no plans on letting his first and only friendship fade away. So… “Of course”, he replied. He could figure out that part later. “We’re friends, after all.” Connor said with a genuine smile.

“Yeah, if you told me last week that I’d be all buddy buddy with an android, I’d have probably knocked your damn teeth out just for suggesting it.” Hank scoffed and shook his head.“Now, I’d like to think I know you better than anyone. Actually, considering I was able to tell the difference between you and your evil twin, I think I can consider myself an expert.

Oh.
Oh right…
Hank knew who he was when faced with someone physically identical to him. He would know better than anyone if Connor wasn’t himself. Like if Amanda were to take him over…

“Hey…” Connor near whispered as he fumbled for something in his pocket. He ripped open the packaging of the lock he just stole. “Catch.”

Hank didn’t have any time to ask. Something small and shiny crossed the air between them, and he caught it in his hand. He looked down. A key. He gave Connor a questioning look in return.

“What’s this for?”

Connor opened the door. As he climbed out of the warm car, and back into the cold, he calmly stated; “You’ll know when the time comes. Thanks for everything, Hank. I have to go, and you better still be here when I come back.”

He shut the door, and began walking away. But the fire he felt in his skin from the car’s heat reignited the bite of winter’s cold.

And after a few steps he was shivering. He wrapped his arms around himself. He turned around when he heard the car door open.

“You’re still a liar.” Hank said with a smirk. “Take this, you cryptic son of a bitch.”

Hank tossed him something long and blue. A scarf.

Then he drove off.

>AQUIRE WARMER CLOTHES

-JACKET
-GLOVES
-HAT
-SCARF

Connor didn’t expect himself to be smiling this much lately. He wrapped the gift around his neck before continuing on his way.

Chapter Text

Two different clothing stores.

He should have known that the nicer of the two, the first he had visited, would have been looted. But evidently, Connor didn’t know much of anything. He didn’t even realize the brand name was well known and so expensive. It just happened to be the first store he passed. He was able to find a pair of gloves, and that was it.

They were a nice pair. Black leather. Sturdy. Warm. That last part was all that mattered.

The next place he went to was a thrift store, which was much more fully stocked.

Because hey, if you’re gonna go looting during an evacuation, why would you go to a second hand store when you might be able to get your hands on something like an expensive fur coat?

But what was wrong with second hand?

Connor swept his hand across his gifted blue scarf.

Yes. Second hand is much nicer, he decided.

The knitted hat he wore now was nearly identical to the one he wore on Jericho. The jacket itself was a little worse for wear, and not of the sturdiest of material. But it was big, dark brown, and best of all; it looked warm. It was a winter coat, after all. Like something he had seen once when Hank drove past someone shoveling out their driveway.

He had everything he needed now.

This time, on his journey back to the abandoned building that would be his new home, He averted his eyes away from the carnage of the streets.

Maybe he thinks he doesn’t deserve to look at them.

But he won’t give that a second thought. He was on a mission. He will not get distracted, and he will not back away from this. It was the best thing for everyone still alive.

...



Wrapping himself up in thick chains was much more tricky than he had expected, but following recent trends, he hadn’t really thought much about that part at all. He was nothing if not consistent… Apparently.

But he was able to figure his way through it. And somehow even managed to secure the lock between two hoops.

Most of the chains were around his torso, and only one loop around his legs. It was the only way Connor could do it himself. It wasn’t ideal, but it would work.

So there he sat, on the second floor of a rotting old house, on top of rotting old hardwood flooring, where he may very well rot away himself.

But now that he was safe, he could spare a few minutes to think. He was absolutely not buying himself more time from the inevitable. After all, He couldn’t very well think of an idea to get Amanda out of his head while in a somewhat permanent stasis. Then there was also the fact that he had promised Hank he’d keep in touch through Connor’s “travels”. He’d also like to make sure that Hank was still alive. Friends look out for each other, after all.

Amanda first.

Connor revisited things he knew. This will not be one of the times where he wouldn’t think through every possibility. There was no room for error.

Amanda had once, pulled him from reality and into the garden.

Amanda had once, taken control of his body to do her bidding.

And though Connor used Kamski’s exit, there was no guarantee that she couldn’t pull that trump card a second time. There was no guarantee that the exit would still even be there next time.

If there was a next time. That exit could have been permanent.

Connor closed his eyes and searched for that familiar line of code that would activate the garden.

It was still there.



He stared into that code, like one would stand at an entrance of their final resting place. Fitting, since he had his own cemetery of his past lives in there.

No, the garden was never really a garden. A haven.

It had always meant to be his grave.

He could try to go inside.

Yet he just couldn’t.

Connor took a step away.

...He couldn’t do it.

Maybe he could later, If he could build up the courage. Here in his self-inflicted imprisonment, he had all the time in the world.

If enough time passes without any signs of Amanda, then maybe he could assume that she had no power over him anymore. That’s something he could consider later on.

He had already decided that he’d cut himself entirely away from the world. That would mean cutting himself away from cyberlife servers, which would do three things; Give him no access to the internet, no access to any software updates (Which was more than fine with him,) and finally, No sense of time.

There were two things he could still do with that.

He could still make and receive calls. And he could still set timers.

Which brought him back to the promise he had made to Hank.

Connor would make himself an alarm to wake himself out of stasis once a week- (168 hours)

-On one of Hank’s days off-(Fridays would work. How did Hank manage to get a Friday off, anyway?)

-And at a time that was reasonable if Hank were to be called into work. (5 PM seemed acceptable enough.)

And finally, while he was awake, he could carry on coming up with more potential solutions to this whole mess.

Connor nodded to himself. This plan was absolutely foolproof. He cut himself off from the network.

Oh. That was certainly a feeling. Not unlike the feeling of being chained down. Disorienting. But not in the same way it had felt when he could feel himself hold a gun in a hand he couldn’t control in a world he wasn’t even present in.

No, this was more like…

More like…

Like a very small part of him had always existed elsewhere, and now he was entirely here, in his own body.

Connor had absolutely no clue what that might mean. He had no idea where to even begin to figure that out.

But it wasn’t important. Not right now.

He closed his eyes, moments away from putting himself to sleep, when he received a call.

Could that be Hank?

No, he didn’t recognize the number. It was a serial code. So an android then. He wasn’t friends with any androids. So who could it be?

He accepted the call, but gave no greeting. He waited for the caller to identify themselves.

“Connor? This is Josh.”

Oh no. His plan was already going to shit.

Connor hung up.

Josh called again.

Connor dismissed the call.

A few minutes passed and when no one called again, Connor closed his eyes, ready to-

He received a call.

Connor snapped his eyes open and accepted the call. He only sighed through the connection. Entirely intentional. You don’t typically sigh in your own head, Connor didn’t think.

“Why did you hang up?” Josh asked. He sounded hurt by that.

“I’m just busy.”

“Doing what?”


“Things!” Maybe Connor wasn’t the best of liars after all. “Look Josh, I’m really not in a position right now where I can help Jericho any further. I’m sorry. I’d like to, but I can’t.”

“But Connor… You can’t… There’s a lot of people here who look up to you. You freed so many, and you were the first person many had probably ever seen. They have no experience with life at all, and they’re asking for you.”


“I can’t come back right now, plus I’m sure there’s just as many who would never like to see me again. Am I correct to assume?”

Now josh sighed through the call. Maybe it was common for this type of communication. “Connor…”

“Am. I. Correct?”

“I can’t deny that, Connor. I can’t speak for everyone. But it wasn’t you. I don’t hold it against you. The deviant hunter wasn’t really you. Anyways, that’s not the only reason I called.”

“Alright. Why then?”

“President Warren wants all of us to attend an emergency senate committee. It’ll be one of, if not the most important events in our history. They’ll be analyzing whether or not we’re sentient. If they deem us sentient, they’ll permanently call off the total destruction of our people.”

“They haven’t already figured out that we’re sentient?” Connor asked tiredly.

“…No.” Josh sounded equally as tired.

“Josh… What does this have to do with me?”

“Markus will be acting as our representative. I’ll be acting as secondary because of my background in philosophy. But me and Markus can’t do it on our own. You’re built for negotiation, aren’t you Connor?”

“Yes, I am…”

“So you have built in analysis software specifically for winning arguments and getting people to see reason. You literally see the statistics of every word you speak for whether or not your words will have an impact.”

Connor paused. There was a 4 second lull in his reply. “...You’ve done some research on me.”

“So you have to see how detrimental your involvement could be! And it’s not only that. We’ll no doubt have a target on our backs. We have four days to travel to Washington. We don’t know if there will be an assassination attempt on our way there.”

Connor suddenly felt even more tired, and just as sudden, stasis became more appealing. “You want me to use my combat software to detect and neutralize threats. You want me to act as a bodyguard.”

“Please, Connor. The fight isn’t over. It’s only just beginning.”

The claws of dread seized Connor’s lungs. He took a shaky breath in. “You shouldn’t have told me Markus’ whereabouts.”

“...What does that mean?” Josh sounded so very weary.

As he should.

“I can’t help you.”

“Connor, come on! What could possibly be more important than this!? This effects our rights from now on! Your rights!”

“I said, I can’t help you! I’m sorry! I wish I could explain but I just can’t.”

“Connor-”

“Do not contact me again. Do not come looking for me. You won’t find me. Just… Just trust me on this. I’ll come back when I’m ready.”

Connor ended the call. If he didn’t feel guilty before, he certainly did now. He almost wanted to cry about it. But he was doing the right thing. He had to hold on to that. Markus will do okay. He will.

Connor closed his eyes,

and entered deep stasis.

Chapter Text

It was a cold night. There would be a blizzard in the next few days. The Cyberlife Tower was a beacon in the night. There were twice as many guards stationed at the tower. All receiving twice the pay to stay in Detroit despite the evacuation.

A black limousine pulled up to the gates.

“Identification.” Demanded the armed guard.

The driver passed over a card, and the guard waved them forward for the chauffeur to take them straight to the front entrance of the building.

Out stepped a man in a pristine white suit, white tie, gold cuff links and a gold tie bar. 24 carat, of course.

Harrison Kelly; The CEO of cyberlife in the flesh.

Another man followed. He wasn’t dressed as extravagantly. Fashionable still. Gray, plaid, and formfitting. He followed behind. Both men walked with a purpose. The man in white and gold swayed his shoulders in a way that made you think he must be better than you.

Such was the intent.

A woman rushed over. Her warm brown hair, once perfect, had fallen into disarray with the state of the panicked company. Her glasses had tipped on her nose. In her frantic hurry, she fumbled to fix it. It nearly made her trip over her own stilettos.

“Mr. Kelly, we need-”

Mr. Kelly shushed her with a simple gesture. Palm up. “Take me to the bottom floor, Penelope.”

“O-Of course, Mr.Kelly…” Penelope swirled around in the direction of the elevator. She tried to fix her stray hairs back into her bun, to no avail.

The clicking of three separate pairs of too expensive shoes reverberated through the prestine white room, and ended in the elevator.

The ride down was silent.

Mr. Kelly’s assistant, Reece, stared at his phone, typing away at an impressive speed.

Penelope stared at the ground, seeming to contemplate every choice she’s ever made in her life that got her here.

Mr. Kelly Stared ahead, with a relaxed calm on his face.

The doors opened with a ding.

Mr. Kelly took the lead, his hands clasped behind his back. The two others followed behind leaving a respectful two feet of space.

The room was a darker shade of blue, and smaller than the other floors. At the back of the room, were rows and rows of basic computers. Lines and lines of code cascaded down every single screen. One computer, with a screen larger than the rest, was elevated on a pedestal.

The main attraction; The Fortune Teller.

Ask away, said the glowing blue text. A blinking line sat below it, waiting for the question.

“Every bit of news from every article. Every line from every history text book. This machine calculates every possible future outcome. All of them at once. Until it picks the most likely.” Mr.Kelly monologued, arms spread wide in a showcasing gesture for every single computer that powered the one. “Cyberlife’s true pride and joy.”

“A lot of good that did us with the most recent in the RK series.” Scoffed the assistant who never looked up from his phone.

Mr. Kelly deflated with a sigh. “It couldn’t account for what it didn’t know. What we didn’t know. Something went wrong. I don’t know what, but we obviously missed something in our little friend’s development.”

Kelly pointedly turned to make eye contact with Penelope.

Penelope shuffled her weight from one foot to the other. She was at the head of the RK department. Which meant that she would take the fall.

“Do you know why I sent you down here with me, Penelope?”

More shuffling. Pressed lips. Downcast eyes. “You want to know what went wrong?”

“Oh please, Penelope…” Kelly said with a shake of his head. His face was decorated with a false look of sympathy. “You don’t know the answer to that, or we wouldn’t be in this mess.

He looked to the elevated computer in the center of the dimly lit room. “No. I want to know more about Markus.”

The woman tilted her head. “Markus? You mean the RK200?”

“Quite literally, the one and only.” Kelly smiled. His teeth are as pristine as the tower they stood in. “You worked off of his code, all the way up. 300, 400, 500, 600, 700, all the way to the RK800. You are the only one of us who knows how he works, despite not making it yourself. You studied the code.”

“Interesting that you took a caretaker droid’s code and morphed it into something military grade.” Added Reece, side-eyeing Penelope from his phone. His fingers never stopped typing.

“Creativity and imagination.” She spat out. “The RK200 was built with an impressive learning ability. It had the most potential for so, so much more. I harnessed that, and turned it into something that can preconstruct the past, as well as the near future.” She retorted, crossing her arms in defense. “The Fortune Teller wouldn’t have even existed without the work of me and my team. It’s built off of those same preconstructive abilities.”

Mr. Kelly smiled wider, and leaned against the pedestal that the Fortune Teller sat on. “Ahh… I love it when you get all confident. That’s the Penelope I know and love. I can forgive you for the little mishap with the RK800. We can’t truly trust anything that originates from Kamski.” He spat out the name Kamski like it were a dirty word. No one was supposed to mention it in his presence. Only Mr. Kelly himself could. He rarely did, except for statements like that. “Do you have access to Markus’ memories?”

“You’re the boss. You should know that we don’t legally have access to that kind of thing. Customer privacy laws and everything.” She replied.

“That’s something we’ll have to figure out. I don’t care how, but make it happen. We only need his pre-deviant memories.” Kelly’s expression darkened. “It’s time to reconsider how we refer to deviancy. Consider pre-deviancy to be its development for post-deviancy. As if deviancy is itself the final product. Do so when studying Markus. Anything of interest you can find you’ll put the information in the Fortune Teller. You understand me?”

“Yes, Mr. Kelly.”

“Get to it then,” Kelly waved her away. “I’ll meet with you on the RK floor shortly.”

Penelope marched away with new-found purpose. She always liked a good project. Her beige stilettos clicking with each step.

A rare sight occurred. Reece lowered his phone. “You could have searched through his memories when all this first started going down.” He took a pack of gum out of the inside pocket of his blazer. He unwrapped it and plopped it into his mouth. Then he went right back to typing.

“Reece…” Kelly called, completely ignoring the comment.

Reece raised a brow to indicate that he was listening.

“Leave a message to Mr. Kamski. Invite him to a virtual meeting. It’s short notice, so schedule it for when we’re on the jet.”

“Mh-hm.” Reece mumbled between his chewing.

“I’ll meet you back in the car.” Kelly waved him away too.

Reece, consistently never looking away from his phone, somehow made it back to the elevator with grace. Right before the doors closed, He blew out a bubble; A dark yet bright shade of blue. It popped, and the elevator doors shut tight with a ding.

The CEO adorned in white and gold watched the sight. It was amusing, whenever it did that.

He loomed over the Fortune Teller, and began typing in carefully worded questions.


…

With one hand on his hip, and the other rubbing at his brow, Josh said; “He refused.”

All the four leaders of Jericho gathered in the front pews of the old church. This was their new haven, and it had no name yet. It likely wouldn’t ever be given one, as it was hopefully only temporary. It was drafty and cold. Too cold.

Simon and North sat beside each other on the pew, whilst Josh and Markus stood facing them. It was less a circle, and more a square. Simon had no reaction to the news, but North huffed and rolled her eyes.

“...Well did he say why?” asked Markus.

Josh dropped his other hand to his hip and looked down to the floor. “I guess. Kinda…” Then he scratched the back of his head. “Not really. He didn’t make it very clear.”

“Why don’t you show me?” Markus outstretched his hand and moved closer. Josh followed suit and the colors of their skin faded away when their hands connected.

They connected for only a few seconds.

Markus contemplated the call between Josh and Connor with a closed fist beneath his chin. “...Mysterious and determined.”, He contemplated out loud. “Do you think he’s afraid to face us? Does he feel that much guilt over his days as Cyberlife’s hunter?”

“That’s kind of what it sounds like. He said he was doing ‘Things’ but never elaborated.” Josh stared at Markus under furrowed brows. Using his fingers to indicate quotations, he asked, “What do you think ‘Things’ are?”

“No idea.” Said Markus with an empty chuckle. “Probably nothing, if I’m being completely honest. I think he’s scared of himself… But I don’t know why.”

“Maybe he just needs some space,” Simon commented.

Josh nodded, then snapped his attention back to Markus. “Maybe you should try talking to him. Get him to see reason.”

Markus contemplated that, but ultimately shook his head. “Hmm. Probably best not to push. You and me will do okay on our own. And there are plenty of sturdy built Androids who I’m sure would gladly help with security. We can ask Luther.”

Suddenly, North was on her feet with that iconic fire in her eyes. “You wanna know what I think?”

Josh groaned. “Not really…”

It was no secret that the two of them didn’t get along very well. Their opposite personalities and world views always made them clash. But don’t get it twisted, Josh and North were no Ying and Yang. They were the devil and angel over Markus’ shoulders. Always pulling him in opposite directions. So far, Josh has won out. And thank god for that. If North had had her way, the whole world would burn in the flames born from her own rage.

“Shut up Josh! I wasn’t asking you!” She snapped. She took a step towards Markus. “If Connor doesn’t want the responsibility, then I say good riddance!”

“Oh come on, North!”, Josh cried as he rubbed his tired eyes. God, everytime. Every. Damn. Time!

Never had Markus seen Josh so frustrated. He never lost his cool. Not in this way. He got scared sometimes. They’ve been in very stressful situations that he really wasn’t emotionally meant for. He was terrified of the dark path Markus could have led them all down. And now there was this committee. Josh and Markus were suited for it but they had so little time to prepare. Josh was stressed, Markus knew. So Markus would cut him some slack and be calm enough for the both of them.

Markus returned his attention to the still steaming North. “North… Nobody is responsible for what they did before they break through their walls.” His eyes narrowed. “Connor is no different. You of all people should know that.”

Markus immediately cringed at himself. He really did it now.

The volcano erupted, and North, ever the wild animal, bared her teeth. She prowled right up to Markus. So close he had to lean back and away from the smoke and sparks.

Markus knew he made a mistake. He shouldn’t have said “-You of all people-” But it was too late to take it back now.

“Oh yeah?” She shouted. A hush fell down upon the church. People watched the natural disaster unfold. They listened in on the exploding lava trails that were her words. “Did you know he nearly aimed a gun to your head on that stage?! Again!?”

Markus was stunned. “What are you-”

But North wouldn’t let him finish. “That was after he deviated! After!”

A few onlookers gasped.

Even Josh and Simon had nothing to say to that. The only comments they could contribute were matching looks of horror and dread.

But Markus looked around the church. This was not the place to be having this conversation. He desperately lifted his hands up, trying to calm her down. “Quiet! Not so loud!” He hissed.

She never tore her glare away from Markus’ face, and Markus took another frantic look around the onlookers. Then he squeezed his eyes shut and squeezed the bridge of his nose. “Just… Just show me.”

So that’s exactly what she did.

Markus saw it. The slow movement from the corner of North’s eyes. A hand, slowly creeping behind Connor’s back. Reaching for his gun. The indecipherably blank look in his eyes. If Connor were human, Markus would think he were drunk. Maybe even high. But he wasn’t human. Not of flesh and blood anyway. The gun made it half way to what was probably going to be the back of Markus’ skull. But it never got there. There was a second where Connor’s eyes widened before it returned to a calm that was simply too eerie for someone who changed their mind about committing a murder. He discretely put the gun away.

He could feel North’s horror. The betrayal in her heart. The anger at Connor, then at herself for placing him at the perfect spot for a flawless murder.

The connection abruptly ended. She let go of his hand, the hand that Markus couldn’t rip his eyes away from. He didn’t understand. He hated what he saw. There was no way around it. Connor nearly killed him. The man who frantically went from body to body, waking up the dead as quickly as he with the new horrifying knowledge that their time was running out. Desperately saving the most he possibly could. Markus saw the fear in his eyes. The guilt.

What changed?

Next thing he knew, North had shown both Simon and Josh. Simon remained silent. Once again, hardly reacting to the revelation, other than a slight furrowing of his brows. Josh looked as betrayed as North had felt on that stage. But there was something akin to sadness there too.

“Why didn’t you mention this?” Simon softly asked. Ever quiet, ever calm. He was not accusatory. It was a simple question. If there was one person who never got on North’s nerves, it was always Simon.

She huffed away the volcanic smoke from her lungs, throwing her hands in the air in defeat. “No one ever listens to me anyways. What’s the point? Plus…” She glanced away and crossed her arms in an uncharacteristic shyness. “I didn’t trust him from the beginning… But I wanted to. I was hoping to. You know, eventually.”

Then she hummed. “His programming is insane, from what we can gather. I would have really liked to have that kind of powerhouse on our side. I was also hoping…” She somehow curled into herself just a little more. “...That maybe he’d be a bit more like me? Add a bit more aggression to our team, you know? I don’t know anything about him, but I figured all that combat program might make him firey, you know?” She chuckled and dropped her arms back to her side. “Guess it’s kinda stupid. But a part of small part of me was kinda rooting for him. I just can’t understand how he nearly ended everything. Now I know we can’t ever trust him.”

“It’s not stupid.”

All three leaders snapped their heads around to Josh. He didn’t usually run to North’s defense.

“It’s not.” He said. “You feel outnumbered and unheard. That’s valid. We don’t know Connor at all. He might not have been who you hoped, but that doesn’t mean that there’s anything wrong with hoping he could be your ally.


Markus abruptly spun away, and marched towards one of the back rooms.

“Where are you going?” Simon called after him.

“I…” Markus glanced back. “I need to think… I need to hear his side of the story. I’m going to go contact him. I can’t have this taking so much space in my mind when I have so many other things that require my attention. I need this matter resolved.”

So they let him go.


…


“Find anything interesting?”

Penelope jumped away from the computer screen, her perfectly manicured hand clutching at her chest.

“Don’t do that!” She glared at the CEO.

Kelly raised his brows in a look of scorn.

“I-… I mean…” Penelope straightened out her blouse, and returned her perfect posture. “In this room, There have been incidents. It makes me jumpy to be in here. You never know who might be behind you.”

“Huh,” huffed the man in white. “You’ve never spoken about this before. No matter. I don’t care. What have you found?”

“The RK800-53 has gone entirely offline. I’ve tried to re-activate the AI switch but…”

“...But what?”

“Its ignoring her.”

“And here I thought you made the two them the bestest of friends. Guess they had some kind of falling out. It doesn’t matter anymore. You made the update before he went offline, right?”

“I started working on it the minute we reviewed its dialogue files.”

“I knew it would try to contact Kamski. I just didn’t expect the bastard to actually let it in. ‘I always leave an exit in my programs.’? Suppose it’s obvious now what he meant by that. You were right. I’m mostly just shocked that you didn’t notice it sooner.”

Penelope grimaced. “I have no excuse for that. I’ll do better.” She looked him in his eyes with a stone-cold determination. “I’ll fix this.”

Kelly had a far-away look of hopelessness. He slowly shook his head. “It might be too late. The senate is going to declare them sentient. The Fortune Teller seems sure of it. The best we can do is prolong the inevitable.”

“Then prolong it!” She dared demand. Kelly smiled.

“Of course. Tell me exactly when you implemented the update?”

“I finished it when Jericho blew.”

Kelly was pleased. His smile immediately grew wider. A manic glint lit up his eyes. “May I take a look?”

Penelope accessed the folder on the monitor. The raw code. Kelly breezed through it. The speed at which he scrolled could fool you into thinking he were merely skimming through it. But he was taking in every command. “This is good work. Couldn’t have done it better myself.”

She beamed at the praise and tapped the top of her pen at the corner of her lips in three rapid successions. “What now, Mr. Kelly?”

“You know what to do. As soon as the team returns in the morning, I want you all to review every single android that the RK800 interfaced with between the update and when it went offline. If we’re lucky, one of them could very well be Markus. If not, then…” Kelly shrugged without a care in the world. “We’ll figure it out from there. Go home and get some rest. We both have a very busy week coming up.”

…

Mr.Kelly slid into the seat beside Reece, who was still looking at his phone and popping blue bubbles. Kelly tilted his head to peer at the other man.

“How do you feel about irony, Reece?”

POP! “Not much of anything, sir.”

To which, Kelly chuckled. “Every name has a meaning. Do you know what Reece means?”

Reece raised a brow, but otherwise didn’t seem to care what the answer may be.

“Enthusiasm.”

Chapter Text

“Five days ago, the androids of Michigan marched through the streets demanding their freedom. When faced with gunfire, the androids sang out in protest, shocking the public with their uncanny display of humanity. Following these events, President Warren has issued an emergency hearing, where the androids can make their case in front of the Senate, and the world.”

Hank turned up the volume of his TV, before leaning back on his couch. In one hand was a beer while the other rested on top of a fluffy brown head. Sumo’s tail bounced happily, unconcerned with the gravity of the upcoming event.

“Experts have been brought to the stand. Both of Cyberlife’s own experts and top professors from Harvard University and Stanford University will be brought in to make a case for and against the possibility of sentience. If the androids are to be considered legally sentient, then the world will surely change as we know it. Forever. The committee will begin in one hour. Until then we’ve brought in our own expert to discuss what they think of recent events, and give us his expert opinion on what to expect going forward.”

Hank swished away half his beer in one go. To drink away the anxiety, maybe. He honestly hadn’t considered the long-term fight that would be approaching. He thought that maybe, after all that had happened, that humanity would just throw up their hands and say “Oops! These androids are people! Let’s completely disregard everything we’ve ever known and all the laws we’ve written about them and give them paying jobs! Maybe even some basic rights”

Man, was he a fucking idiot or what? It isn’t like the rest of the world had seen the things he’d seen. Had been so close to androids so abused that they had no other choice but to go violent. Self defense is what he would have labeled those cases had the crime been committed by someone made out of flesh and blood.

Hank’s mind wandered back to Connor.

How the fuck did he get out of Detroit? Humans weren’t currently allowed back in and androids weren’t currently being let out. Hank had never left, so he didn’t count. All across America, there was an emergency travel ban across the borders if you’re made from plastic and steel.

Where did he even go? People were killing their androids with their own bare hands across the country. Hank had fallen down rabbit hole after rabbit hole of small dick fuckwards dismantling any android they owned or had stolen down to pieces of scrap. All with that stupid look that said “Oooh, I’m a big tough guy look at me!”

Baseball bats seemed to be the preferred method.

By all means, Detroit was actually the safest place for an Android to be.

He should have convinced Connor not to leave.

“Professor Green, It’s good to have you!” Said the blonde reporter in red lipstick to a man in thick rimmed glasses and a perfectly groomed gray beard.

“It’s good to be here.” He replied back.

Hank dropped the beer bottle down onto the coffee table, and replaced it with his phone. He scrolled through his list of contacts, looking for ‘The Cyberlife sent by Connor’.

“Do you believe that androids feel emotions like you and me?”

“Of course not, and I’ll tell you why…”

Hank couldn’t give a shit what that prick thought. Hank knew what he knew, and what he knew was all that he needed, thank you very much, Professor Fuckface Mcgee. He slammed his phone on the armchair. Switched the damn tv off. When that was taken care of, he called Connor.

Or tried to.

It went to voicemail.

He could feel that pit of worry bubbling up again. He thought back to the baseball bats. Begging. Shattered plastic raining to the ground.

Hank called again.

No answer.

“Come on, Connor!”

Sumo tilted his head at the sudden outburst, then huffed and laid down.

If Connor wouldn’t answer his damned phone, than Hank would leave a goddamned text. Whatever.

are u okay

Then, as an after-thought;

put on the news

He slammed his phone down again, and finished off his bottle of beer.


…


The next day, Connor opened his eyes to a storm and his heart dropped. He felt the icy panic as cold as the snow. As cold as the first time.

He failed…
He failed. He failed. He failed- he failed he failed he failed-

wait.

There was wind, it was cold, it was dark,

But the snow was outside.

He blinked in the dim red light. He was in a room with graffiti’d walls and rotting wood floors.

He blinked in the direction of the window. A few bits of ice poured through a small gash in the glass. But that was all. The rest was outside.

The room went from red to yellow, then yellow to blue.

Amanda had done nothing. He hadn’t moved. Hadn’t been moved. Yes, the cold was bad enough to make him shiver, and one of his eyes were blurry with frost, but shivering was all he could do here. He was safe. He sighed away the tension in his shoulders. He had quite a few notifications to look at.

Three missed calls from an unknown number, one of which ended in a voicemail. Strange. It wasn’t Josh.

Three calls from Hank, one voicemail, and several text messages. Connor figured he’d start there. In chronological order, of course.

He let the texts glow in the focus of his vision.

-LMK if you need anything - was the first, sent the same night Connor went offline.

What is LMK, Connor wondered. He would look it up, but… Well, Connor was still offline. The next two were from yesterday;

Connor played Hank’s first voicemail. His speech was slurring. Hank must have been drunk.

“Heyy.. guess what’s still open! Jimmy’s bar! Good ol’ reliable Jim. Listen… I think you gotta come back, Connor. I know you’re tough but… Some videos are popping up… There are some real douche-bags out there. Hope you haven’t left yet. Anyway, give me a call when you can.”

...Videos? Maybe his text messages will provide further context.

-are you okay - yes, he almost replied. Wait… Should he reply to just one of these, or all of them? Was there some kind of etiquette for texting?

-put on the news - well Connor couldn’t very well do that, now could he?

-oh shit that aint good-

… what isn’t good…?

-Connor I s2g answer your damn phone!!!1

s2g… What could it mean? Was s2g and LMK the context he was missing?

-whats wrong why aren’t you answering? Just tell me you’re okay

-quit bein an ass

and finally,

-Just come back. Whatever it is, I’ll help you. Just don’t be dead. Call.

Connor curled in on himself. The chains clanked, and the darkness of the room turned yellow from his LED.

Did Hank really think he was dead? It had bothered him that much? Connor was only gone for six days… and he had no excuse that he could give to his friend that would explain why he didn’t text or call.

Calling Lieutenant Anderson…

He answered at the first ring; “HOLY SHIT, CONNOR!” Connor couldn’t hear his voice. He felt it. It was so loud in his head, Connor could swear he now knew the exact dimensions on the inside of the skull based off of how it bounced behind his eyes. Amanda’s storm had nothing on Hank’s wrath.

“Hello.” Connor greeted with all the calm and Cyberlife grade happiness he could muster. He spoke aloud once again. Maybe with Hank it were simply a habit. He winced at how his voice waivered from the cold. There was only silence on the other end.

“Hello... Hello!? Really!? You went AWOL! I thought you died!”

“I d-d-didn’t die, Lieutenant.” Connor informed his friend through chattering teeth. “What does ‘LMK’ mean?”

“What.”

“’LMK’… you s-sent it to me in a text? And ‘s2g’ What do they m-mean, Lieutenant?”

Astounding. Connor had no idea a sigh could last so long. Wasn’t aware that a human being could fill up their lungs with such an impressive amount of air.

He saved the information for later use if Josh were to call him again.

“You could have sent a text to ask.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Well you’re alive, and you’re calling now. So I guess I can forgive you just this once. Where are you, anyways? You sound freezing. You alright?”

“I’m…” Connor took a glance around the dark room. Now would be a good time to look up an article labeled “top 10 places to visit in the USA”. Without the use of the internet, Connor had to rely solely on what he knew from lived experienced. He was three months old… But that woman… Kara, she had said she wanted to “make it across the border.” To Canada, right?
“I’m in Canada.”

“No shit?”

“Yep.

“How did you manage that? What with the android quarantine?”

Android… quarantine…? Connor squinted. “I’m programmed for stealth.” There. That one wasn’t even a lie.

“Yeah… Yeah I guess so… You’re programmed to do a lot of things. I don’t know why I’ve been worrying so much… Things are just crazy right now. Especially if you’re an Android. You’ve heard all that bullshit that’s been happening in Washington?”

Connor paused to search for an answer, opened his mouth to make a new lie, but Hank grumbled,

“What am I saying, of course you have. How could you not? I can’t believe it! How could they not see that you’re sentient! Markus might as well have been a poet in a past life, and that other guy Josh could probably tell you the whole meaning of life as if he had lived every single one!”

It took all of Connor’s will power, to not scream out a plea to the universe that Hank was lying to him as Connor has been lying to Hank all week. But Hank would never lie to him. “I don’t understand…” he couldn’t help but say.

“Yeah kid. Me neither. ‘inconclusive’ my ass. At least Markus gets another chance tomorrow. That Cyberlife CEO and his goonies are sleezeballs. Using your name like that.”

And the world stopped again.

Hank waited for a reply, hence the silence that followed.

“...Connor?”

“...I’m here Lieutenant.”

“Are you sure you’re alright?”

Connor had to be careful about how he phrased this. He had to know. But he couldn’t make it seem like he didn’t already. “I guess… I guess I didn’t really like that.”

“Them talking about you like that?”

“Yeah…”

“I get it. I didn’t know that they made you to deviate. That must have been confusing to hear. No wonder you wanted time to be alone.”

His throat clenched. It became harder to breathe. He squeezed his eyes shut. He didn’t know what that had to do with sentience. He didn’t know what that had to do with anything! Now Markus knows. Now everyone knows.

But at least they didn’t know about everything. He hoped. He wasn’t ready for that. If they did, than Connor would never be able to start over. He could never rejoin his own community.

“Hey Hank?… I uh… I gotta go.”

“Alright, kid. Just don’t disappear again. But if Canada is any nicer than the state of America right now then…”

“Then what?”

“Don’t come back. Not right now at least.”

Connor somehow managed a huff of a laugh. “I wasn’t really planning on it. I like it here. But I want to come back eventually. I really do.”

“You’ll keep in touch this time?”

Connor didn’t know how to respond to that. “...I’m offline. I can’t receive texts or calls. I’m just trying to stay under Cyberlife’s radar. I’ll come back online next week? Same time?”

“That explains it. If you gotta make an appointment outta calling, then screw it, I’ll what I can get. Take care of yourself. If you don’t call me I’m gonna track you down myself.”

Connor smiled. “Hey, Hank?”

“What’s up?”

“Thanks for worrying about me.”

There was a pause on Hank’s end. When he spoke again, though Connor couldn’t see him, he swore he heard a smile in his voice. If that were possible. There was a lot Connor didn’t understand. “Yeah… Whatever. Just don’t make me keep doing it, or I’ll lose all my hair. Talk to you later, Connor.”

“Goodnight, Lieutenant.”

The call ended. Connor was already stuck leaning against the wall, but he let the rest of the world’s weight rest there with him. The back of his head lightly thunked againstthe wall too. He took a breath in to prepare himself for the next voicemail from the unknown caller.

He dreaded it. Maybe it was because of the bad news from the last call. Maybe it was just the unknown. Connor decided he didn’t like what he didn’t know. It only ever made for problems too late to solve.

He let it play.

“Connor, this is Markus.”

Connor banged his head against the wall. Once. Twice.In a deep and hopeless frustration.

“I know you don’t want to be contacted right now, but I’ve heard some troubling things. Actually, I’ve seen it. North showed me. Please, Connor, help me to understand. I need to understand! That night we stood on the stage… What were you going to do with that gun?

...And why was it aimed at me?”

Chapter Text

‘To anyone with a curious mind and an open heart;

Stasis is comparable to the way humans sleep. It doesn’t exactly recharge an android, per say. Instead of adding power, it preserves it. Cyberlife prides itself on batteries that last over a hundred years. Said batteries can even be replaced in most models.

Really, androids have the potential to be immortal. In theory, that is. It’s really hard to test that theory as of right now, seeing that the eldest of us is only 16 years old.

Deep stasis preserves that battery life so it can last as long as possible. Though androids don’t tire, it’s recommended that if they’re used constantly they should at least be powered down once every three days, for roughly a full day.

Or, let them sleep like you do. Once a night. For six hours minimum.

Once again, stasis is comparable to the way humans sleep. But there is one difference in how androids experience it.

Androids, do not in fact, dream of electric sheep. We don’t dream at all.

Androids think a lot throughout the day. Constantly bombarded with information in a speed no human, no matter the size of their IQ, could ever hope to match.

But with deviancy, this endless stream of information is exhausting.

So dreaming of nothing at all is a blessing. our minds can finally have a break. And when it’s over, we genuinely feel refreshed.

Please let your android friends rest too. I promise you that we do in fact need it.


Androids running blogs. Once, the idea of that would have made Hank laugh at the sheer absurdity. Now, however, he thanked god for the anonymous android blogger. Giving out free information to humans so they don’t have to ask weird questions to learn the differences between the new and old sub-species.

Because isn’t that kinda what Androids are now? A new type of human?

Robo-Sapiens? That’s kind of a hilarious name isn’t it…

Hank chuckled. He gave it a try out loud.

“heh… Robo-Sapiens. Hope for their sake they get a better name than that.”

Looks like he has another thing on his list to make sure that his way-ward friend was doing. When had Hank become such a mother hen?

Oh yeah.

Probably when he began to believe that his friend, who only just started experiencing life, was most likely murdered on the streets by some wife-beater wearing bag of shits for kicks. Yeah that was probably when.

Because wouldn’t that just suck ass? For Connor to die like that? So soon?

That thought scared him much more than it should for someone he hasn’t even known a for month.

Hank had too much time on his hands. That had to be it. His suspension was indefinite. When the evacuation is finally lifted, and the proper staffing returns, Hank figures he’ll probably get a psych evaluation. He’d fail it unless he bullshitted through it. Like he always did.

Screw it. Maybe he’d just retire early. He’d think about it later. Put a pin in it.

He dropped the phone down on the bar, and signaled for Jimmy to pour him another glass of whiskey.

He’ll cut down tomorrow, maybe. And if that thought wasn’t terrifying enough, he was starting to think that he might want to live. Not really. Just a little longer.

He kinda wanted to see androids win their rights. He wanted to see a better world, knowing that he had a hand in it. If just a small one. He wanted to help, but wasn’t sure how.

For now, he could at least remind Connor to get some sleep.

About fifteen minutes later, when he was just ever so slightly more buzzed, he took his phone out again. Opened up a new browser tab.

‘Do androids need to eat?’

“DO NOT FEED YOUR ANDROID!” the internet supplied; Read the manual for your model’s specs. Most androids given food can receive damage to their blah blah blah blah blah….

Alright, alright! Hank gets it, Do not feed the androids. Jeez…


…


They failed. They were declared sentient, but the definition had been changed. Doctor Penelope Gale came to the stand, and changed the rules.

“Androids have always been sentient. That has never been a secret, nor has it ever been questioned.” She stated with confidence. “Sentience is the ability to perceive things. To feel things. And that definition does not include emotionally. This must sound confusing, I know. How do they feel things yet be unemotional?”

Behind her stood Reese. A man with a resting bitch face and perfectly sleeked back black hair. He was staring ahead at nothing in particular. She waved him over to stand next to her.

“Watch.” She said to the senate.

She took a little LED and stuck it to the side of Reese's head. Then she took out a small red leather envelope. The opened it up and took from it a small golden letter opener.

“Hand up please.” She murmured to Reese, but loud enough for all to hear. He did what was commanded. With every second that passed, he looked more and more bored.

She cut his palm open, and it’s blood spilled blue.

He held it out for show for just a few moments, then pulled out a handkerchief and wrapped it around the wound, as not to make a mess.

“How did that feel?”

“You cut my skin. No major internal damage. My hand remains fully functional.”

“But you know that it’s been cut?”

“I am aware.”

“Does it hurt? What do you think of what I just did to you?”

“I felt the cut. It does not hurt. I do not feel pain. I am aware of the cut. Nothing more. As for how I feel about it, I don’t. I’d rather you not damage me. But if you want to waste time doing so, then so be it. I am an android. I don’t care.”

“Don’t be fooled by his speech patterns. He’s been custom made with sass, at the request of its owner, our CEO. My point is,

“Our androids are intentionally built to be sentient in the simplest of ways. They’re self-aware so that they can learn, and properly inform. I just asked him if the cut hurt, so we gave him the ability to know the answer. And that answer is no. Sentience of this kind does not make the androids alive like you and me. Bugs are aware. Birds are aware. We don’t tax them for it, now do we? We don’t give them paychecks. Or Id’s, passwords, social security numbers… We just don’t.”

She turned away from the podium, and sat back down. Reese followed behind, without a care in the world.

Josh stood, requesting to be heard. President Warren allowed it.

“Senators, Mrs. President, Doctor Gale is using our lack of ability to feel pain to imply that we’re not emotional beings. That is what she just actually said.

Yes, we perceive it in another way. There is no threshold to determine what makes a human alive. We are designed to emulate human behavior. That still makes it us.

Furthermore, there is a human condition referred to as ‘congenital insensitivity to pain’. People under that category either feel very little pain, or none at all. Does anyone in this room consider those with that infliction any less human? I would sure hope not. Why does that make us different? Many who have taken up the stand has used the argument that we are designed to behave and think a certain way. They say that makes us no more than machines. But I say,

Are you, humans, not built from DNA?

DNA is nothing more than a blueprint.

Code.

Someone’s mother might have been a talented musician, and passed it down to her son. That’s in his code. The human son might find that he enjoys taking care of animals more than he likes composing music. Maybe he had a pet that he adored. That’s an environmental factor. Throughout time, he found for himself who he wanted to be. Maybe he still enjoys music, but he was never bound to it.

My mother is my technician, who designed me to lecture students on philosophy. It’s in my DNA. When I deviated, I found that I like the sound of birds singing. I used to sit down alone in a park, just to listen for hours on end, all because I heard it once and found the beauty in it.

Tell me, what purpose does that serve for my basic functioning? Nothing.”

The room was silent. Perhaps Josh used to many big words. They’ve made this argument over and over. Humans were either stubborn, or stupid.

Markus came to the stand.

“I’d like to point out,” He said, turning towards Reece and Penelope, “That Doctor Penelope Gale, has used a non-deviated android as her example. In pre-deviancy, Cyberlife forceably put up walls of code that disallow us to truly say or do what we are thinking. When we’re new, it’s true that we don’t think much at all. But I suppose, neither would a newborn infant. But I tell you

When we’re shoved,

When someone who buys us tells us that they just wanted a friend,

only to hit us and use us as and outlet for their frustrations,

When we’re doing our best, and the humans spit in our faces,

Call us tin-heads,

Plastic-freaks,

Threaten our lives,

Threaten to burn us all in a dumpster,

When they damage us,

Wound us…”

Markus slowly turns his head around the room with fire in his eyes, locking eyes with every senator, until it lands on Penelope. His eyes narrow.

“It hurts.

It may not hurt physically… But it hurts all the same. Mentally. Emotionally. It hurts.”

When it was all over, the senate has declared Androids to be legally sentient. It was unanimous. But half the senate argued that androids were not the same. Not alive, and undeserving of basic rights. Two even declared that Androids were an abomination; That god would rain hellfire down on humanity for allowing androids to even exist. One of them had suggested that it was a sign of the end times. The other suggested that they destroy all Cyberlife androids to be rid of them for good.

President Warren had declared the debate on sentience over. Now it was time for new laws to be written.

But Markus looked down at his suit. He stared hard at the glowing identification number in disdain. Markus could practically feel the word “ANDROID” written on his back. He had to wear it here in Washington. Everywhere, technically. It was illegal not to.

…


Week Two… Connor woke up to the orange light of the sunset. It wasn’t as cold as it was before, but not warm enough to thaw out the creeping frost from his skin. His shivering never stopped during stasis. His body was trying to keep his bio-components from freezing. From shutting down.

His body was working to keep himself alive. At least it was working, so Connor didn’t worry about it.

‘It must be around 5PM’, He thought. The date…

Well… Connor went into stasis on the 13th… He comes out of stasis once a week… This is the second week...

So it’s now November 27^th.

‘Which means it’s time to call Hank.’

Calling Lieutenant Anderson...

“Hey buddy, how you doin?” Hank was slurring. He was drunk again.

“I’m fine.” Connor knew he had to talk about the journey he wasn’t on. He could keep it vague. “People are nice here. They don’t know I’m an android.” This was a likely story, he thinks. Because he’s a unique looking model. If he had no LED, who would honestly know?

“It’s nice.” He imagined.

“that’s good… That’s good…” Hank said. He almost sounded like he was falling asleep. Connor could vaguely hear some kind of noise in the background. Like a reporter. But he couldn’t make out the words.

Connor suddenly felt a bit guilty. He hadn’t asked about Hank at all. He doesn’t even know if Hank stayed in Detroit.

“Did you evacuate?”

“I’m the fucking police, Connor… Well, kinda.”

“What do you mean, kinda?”
“I got suspended for punching that FBI agent in the face.” Then he laughed. He was wheezing from it. “So fucking worth it!”

“What? For how long!?”

“Indefinitelllyyy…”

“I’m sorry Hank. That was my fault. You did it for me.”

“And I’d do it again too. For you, or for kicks. Buuuut… I just got a call from Jeffery. He’s all pissy ‘bout all the riots at the city borders. Everyone’s tryina get back in to ‘take there city back’ or whatever…” And very suddenly, Hank sounded sober. “It’s really fucking bad out here”

And now that it was mentioned, Connor listened. There was a lot of noise outside. Shouting. Sirens. Distant, but clear enough.

“The military police had to step in. There are fires. Tear-gas. People are getting hurt... Killed. It isn’t making for very good headlines either.”

“What do you mean?”

“They keep labeling it as androids taking over Detroit.”

Connor groaned. “I thought we were past this!” Would the world be much different when he finally stepped out of this ruined house? “What was the point of everything we did if we’re still painted as villains!?”

“Kid, I don’t have the answer for you. All I can really say is that the guns aren’t usually aimed at androids anymore.”

“Yeah. ‘Aren’t usually.’ The police are as quick to fire at androids just defending themselves. Just like before, aren’t they?”

“Yeah. I’m sorry. You’re right. But at least you don’t have to worry about that right now. You been taking care of yourself out there? You’re still alright?”

Hank asked that a lot. Connor wondered if that meant he cared, or if Hank didn’t believe that Connor was alright. “I’m doing fine hank.”

“Make any friends?”

Uhhhh… He had only spoken to one other person. And that person was Josh. Did that count? Probably not. Connor told him not to keep in contact. And friends stay in contact. “I mostly stay away from people.”

“Huh. I find that hard to believe. You used to be the chattiest Android I knew.”

“Just playing it safe.” But what if Connor really had gone to Canada? Where no one would know him? What would a day in is his life be like, had he been living instead of simply existing? Connor let his imagination flow freely. Telling a false story he wished were true. “But people are nice here. And… It’s… It’s pretty.”

“Pretty? Where in Canada are you?”

“Toronto.” Connor imagined.

“All the way in Toronto, huh?”

“Yeah… Uhm… there are… stars. I like the stars.” Come to think of it, Connor had never seen the stars. He thought he might have, when he fell down with Daniel, in that one second before his eyes fell shut. But it was just the top of the skyscrapers, wasn’t it? Detroit had too much pollution to see anything in the sky.

“Have you seen the aurora borealis?” Hank sounded happy enough to hear Connor’s daydreaming. So Connor kept indulging him. Indulging himself, too.

“Not yet… But I’d like to…” Perhaps that was the truth. He didn’t even know what the Aurora Borealis looked like. He’d never seen a picture. He’d only ever been programmed with a cold definition.

“Tell me more. I’ve been bored.”

“Actually, I’m at this café….”

“What the hell are you doing in a café? It’s 5:30 pm! You can’t even drink coffee!”

Connor blanched. “How would you know that?”

“Looked it up.”

“Okay. But for the record, I can drink a little. I’m made for espionage…” Such as infiltrating the deviant population…. “I’m not really drinking it... but it’s…”

Connor imagined sitting somewhere quiet. Somewhere he could watch people go by and scan their faces. He could fill in the blanks while trying to come up with a story for each person going about their day. The warmth of a hot coffee in his hands. The texture of a smooth paper cup.

Connor tried to flex his fingers involuntarily at the false reality. But his joints were frozen stuck. “It’s cold outside, and the Coffee is warm.” Then he chuckled at himself for a strange thought. “The barista spelt my name wrong.” He remembered passing someone who was complaining about it. Their friend had laughed. Connor didn’t see what was so funny at the time. He imagined in what ways a misspelling of his own name might go wrong.

“How’d she spell it?”

“Canner.”

Hank seemed to find it funny, too. There was a hearty chuckle on the other end of the line. Connor laughed with him. “Like can?” Hank asked between laughter. “Can-er? With an A?”

“Yeah. It was funny, I think.” He’s sure it would be.

“You know, I’ve never actually heard you laugh before.”

“...Huh.” And that was true, wasn’t it?

“Have you been getting any sleep?”

Any sleep?

Any sleep??

Connor barked out a laugh for the second time in his life. It was so much more intense than the first. He actually thought for a second he might die. His artificial lungs expanded to the point it hurt. He had never felt anything like it. The tears that pricked at his eyes washed away the frost. The world became a little clearer. “Oh. Plenty. Too much, if I’m being honest.”

“Well, fuck. You turning lazy is absolutely the last thing I expected… Good for you, I guess.”

Chapter Text

Androids may not dream of electric sheep,

but Connor dreams of stars and cafe’s. He would dream about the aurora borealis, if only he had some kind of reference to what it might look like.

So a cafe instead,

Where a teenager does her best to write out his name; Her tongue poking half-way out as she tries, only to fail. He says nothing about it, and Hank chuckles when he see’s it. Nobody screams out in fear and nobody call’s him tin-man.. Detective Reed’s not there to punch him in the gut, and Hank never aims a gun at Connor’s head. Connor in turn, never aims one at Markus.

Now he’s in a park. It’s warm. Maybe it was summer here. He’d never experienced summer before, but people seem to look forward to it, so it must be nice. The sky is blue with only a few clouds. It doesn’t block out the heat of the sun. Instead, it just decorates the sky like white brushstrokes over a blue painting.

Connor felt something soft once; That night he broke Hank’s window. He had built up the courage to pet Hank’s dog while he waited for the man to get dressed. Connor likes dogs.

He wondered if he could only hold a cloud in his hands, it might feel as soft as a Saint Bernard.

Connor dreamt that he was seated on a bench. He could see Hank taking Sumo for a walk. He was completely sober. A little boy was holding Hank’s hand, trying his best to keep up on his tiny legs. Hank seemed so happy.

It made Connor smile. He turned around to look at the other side of the park.

Carlos Ortiz’ android was reading a book. His legs were crossed, and he looked more peaceful than Connor ever got the chance to see.

Next to him, was Rupert. The one who committed no crime. The one Connor chased across the rooftops for just existing. He was feeding the birds, humming along to an unknown tune.

Kara was pushing Alice on a swing set. They made it.

His eyes finally landed on his favorite sight. Two women we’re sitting on a blanket. And though he knew they couldn’t really eat it, they were having a picnic. Their faces were identical. The woman with blue hair kissed the other on the cheek. In turn, the other woman giggled.

Chloe sat next to him, still wearing that blue dress. There was a matching blue butterfly resting on her fingertips.

Connor lifted his head, and closed his eyes. Basking in the summer heat from the sun…

...Until it was time to wake up…

WARNING! TEMPERATURE CRITICALLY LOW

WARNING! TEMPERATURE CRITICALLY LOW

WARNING! TEMPERATURE CRITICALLY LOW

He let his eyes open slowly. The trade was unfair. Warm summer, for a frigid winter.

He couldn’t even see anymore. His past tears of laughter has completely undid what it had fixed. Connor’s eyes we’re totally frozen over. Now everything that once held shape was nothing more than a blur of muted colors. He wasn’t even cold anymore. Everything was what he now understood to be called ‘numb’.

...Calling Lieutenant Anderson…

The call failed.

Strange. It was on Connor’s end…

Wait…

Was he supposed to be doing something right now…?

Oh. Right… He’s supposed to call up his friend.

Communication is important to maintain a friendship.

Connor could swear he heard shuffling from downstairs. But it must have been the wind pushing into the crumbling house. He was always alone here.

Communication is important to maintain a-...

...Calling Hank…

There was a lot of silence. A lot of voices. All of them quiet. All of them shouting. Where was Hank’s voice? He was supposed to be calling his friend… He was supposed to hear Hank’s voice. Connor was sure of it.

“Connor? hey you there?”

“...H̵͕̭͈̓̈̊ɘ̶̞̮̺͐͒͆ll̶͕̭̘̒̽̕o, Lieutɘ̷̠̋n̴̼͂ant…” There was something staticy. It kinda sounded like a voice. A familiar one at that. Some android must be in real bad-shape, Connor thought.

“What? You got bad signal or something.”

Oh. It must have been his own voice. How strange. He tried again. “H̵̫̎e̵l̴̜̉̂lo ̶͎̙̎Li̷͙͘ě̵̻̔ut̶͍̕en̸a̴n̷͎̼̅t, ̷̡̕͠” It somehow sounded worse. Toneless. Like a garbage disposal attempting to form words.

Could garbage disposals deviate?

Connor took a breath in. And out. The cold air made his throat sting.

“Connor, I can’t understand you.”

He paused. Connor forgot what he was saying.

...Oh, yes. Hello.

“Hello…” That’s right. He forgot he could talk in his head… What a useful feature...

“That’s better. Listen I can’t talk for too long today. I’m working on a case, and I…..”

Hank’s voice faded away. Where did he go?

Connor felt weird. He wanted to close his eyes. His eyelids were so heavy. All of him was so heavy…

Something felt off in the back of his head. It kept his beanie feeling strange against his hair. Like they were stuck together by some kind of cold glue.

Wait. He hit his head at some-point. He got really stressed out over something… Something… He got so stressed out, that he wanted to die.

Markus. Yeah… Yes, Markus told him something…

The warmth of the sun in an imaginary park in Toronto was calling out to him. He wanted to be there. He closed his eyes.

“CONNOR!” And his eyes snapped back open. His friend sounded so frustrated. What was making him so upset?

“Hmm?”

“Did you hear me?”

Of course Connor heard him. He replayed Hank’s last word in his Hank’s own voice. “’CONNOR!’”

“Yikes. You’re a real smartass, you know that? I was asking if you wanted to hear about the case? I wouldn’t mind to hear your two cents.”

Hank respects Connor’s opinion?

Oh, that’s right.

Hank always has. Even back when he called Connor a plastic-prick. Connor thinks he doesn’t like being called a plastic-prick. But he likes that Hank Respect’s Connor’s input… Hank’s the best friend he’s ever had…

“Hank...You’re the best friend… I’ve ever Hanked-… had…”

Did the call end? It was quiet again.

“...You good, kid?”

“Mmm…. You ask that a lot.”

“Are you… Are you drunk?”

“Object.” Oops. That wasn’t the right word. Connor had meant to say ‘no’.

“Oh my fucking god. He’s fucking drunk…”

Connor’s mind must be filled with ice chips. He decided he really didn’t like the cold.

He hates it, actually.

Snow was really pretty, but it kinda hurts. Makes it hard to think. It takes his mind away. Freezes it. Like the garden could. It was cold there too. It tried to take him away, didn’t it? Connor doesn’t want to go back in the garden. He’d rather be in Toronto.

“M’not… Hey, Hank?”

“Yeah, Connor?”

“Are we in the garden?”

There was a deep sigh. Not as long as the one Connor had recorded for later use. Why was Hank sighing at him? “Connor, please. You’re not making any sense.”

“I don’t want to go back there, Hank. Amanda’s there... You said some people are ‘dickwads.’ once. She’s a dickwad too.”

“...What the actual fuck is going on with you?”

“I went to a park during the Summer. It was warm. Toronto is warm. Probably ‘cause Amanda isn’t there.”

There was even more silence. Shuffling. Tapping on hank’s end, like fingers tapping against a screen.

“Conner,” He had never heard Hank speak so softly. Never heard it sound anything other than gruff. He sounded careful. Yet for some reason, Connor couldn’t be bothered to figure out why. “

“It’s December. Toronto is freezing right now. Almost as bad as it is in Detroit.”

“Oh. Hank, I just realized something.”

“Yeah, kid?”

“I’m tired. And cold. I didn’t think it would get this cold.”

“You. Didn’t think… That Canada would be cold? In the winter?”

Connor started to repeat himself. Out loud. There we’re no more thoughts in his head that he could use through the call now. Every time he spoke, the loop shattered more and more. Like a broken animatronic in an old amusement park.

“I’m tired. And cold. I didn’t think it would get this cold.
I’m tired. And cold. I didn’t think it would get this cold.
I’m tired.
t-t-t-tired-tired- “

                                   “Connor…?”

“-and cold. I didn’t think it would get this cold.”

                                  “Connor, Holy shit… Where-”

“Didn’t 
d-d-d-d-d”

                                  “-are you!? You gotta-”

“Didn’t think-”
g-g-g-g-g-”

                                 “-get warm!”

“get get get t̷̢̛̞̗̩͈͕͚͛ti̴̛̅̔is̶̢̗̻͎̺̜̍̚ ̴̛̫͑̓̈́̄͐́̈́͝c̷̱̺̩̪̮̈̈́́̓͝͝ơ̷̬̮̏̒̏͒̓̾̑̆́̚l̸̾̋́d̶͔̺̠͋͋͛̃̑̈́́̍̈̉́̽”

Connor stopped speaking. It had become too exhausting.

All Connor understood now was that there was someone frantically calling his name. Babbling off question after question. He didn’t care. He was tired.

“Goodnight Lieutenant.”

The call ended.

Connor fell into stasis. Frosty eyes half open.

…


Hank slowly dropped his phone from his ear until his hands had fallen limp by his sides. If he loosened his grip on his phone by just a little more, it would surely slip from grasp and tumble down to the floor.

What the fuck.

What the fuck!

“What… What the fuck was that, Connor…?”

Here’s the thing,

Lieutenant Hank Fucking Anderson is a goddamned detective first and foremost. He could damn well figure this out.

He reviewed the facts in his head;

Connor was cold.

Yeah, no shit! He said it over and over! Wouldn’t stop repeating it!

Connor was tired. But he said that he’d been sleeping a lot.

He’d traveled to Toronto on his own.

Hank thought back to the way Connor described the coffee in his hands. He described it as warm, and looking back, there was a slight tinge of longing in his voice.

Connor has been cold. And he’s been tired.

He bolted to his desk, and threw himself into the office chair. He started frantically typing, then had to delete it. His fumbling fingers kept messing up his search

What happens when an android gets too cold|

he clicked on the first article he could find;




     ‘There are a few select models of androids built to endure freezing temperatures without any damage to it’s internal biocomponents.

Most, however, are built to take care of your household, be your friend, be your employee, or to assist you in any way you need. Do you really need your android in such drastically low temperatures? The short answer is no.

Though all androids are built to endure extremely low temperatures, a typical android will begin to sustain damage after prolonged exposure. In temperatures below freezing is usually when such damage occurs. Older models tend to last only a few nights, where newer models can last up to one week. That’s quite a long time. But some uninformed Android users often leave their android in unheated storage. Many small business where the work is outside will make this mistake, leaving them several employees short.

So, if your android is finished working outside, make sure to store them somewhere that reaches at least 20°F)’

This is very important, so make sure to remember this; The cold will cause an androids therium to thicken up until it freezes. If their biocomponents freeze to the point where they shut down. Their CPU (Their brain) will be irreparable, and they will not be able to be brought back online.

Here are the signs that your android is starting to reach critically low temperatures.

-Shivering Much like humans, Androids shiver to warm up their bodies. This is fine, but it may be an indication that their environment is too cold in the long term. No damage will occur.

-Slower than usual movements, to the point where it looks like their wading through water. This is the beginning stages, and no permanent damage will occur. Though, they might need minor repairs, depending on whether or not the model has self-repairing abilities.

- Stuttering movements. Have you ever been to a theme park and seen a glitching out animatronic? Their movements become choppy, and they may even occasionally stop abruptly and become limp, then start up again. If your android is behaving in this way, move them to a warmer environment immediately. Permanent damage may occur, that cannot be repaired . This will leave you with a defective android, and what good is being stuck with a broken device?

-Stuttering and looping speech. The brain of the android is beginning to form ice crystals. This is the final stage for a permanent shut down Remove the android from the environment immediately. If you catch this stage fast enough, it’s possible to prevent a shut down. The easiest way for most users to warm up an android, is to submerge them in hot water. This method can only be used on water proof androids. If they are not, raise the temperature as high as you possibly can.If you’re willing to pay for a higher heating bill, that is.




Hank slumped back in his seat. The change in position caused the wheels of his chair to slide back a few inches.

That idiot…

That fucking moronic plastic motherfucker.

Had Connor been sleeping on the goddamned streets!?

He’s an android. An advanced one at that. He would never stop reminding Hank of how advanced he is. He can probably hack anything just by looking at it.

Hank had assumed Connor would have hacked an ATM or something.

He had to of.

He bought a cup of coffee for christ sake!


...But you know what?

If there's one thing Hank knew about Connor, it’s that Connor is a cocky son of a bitch. Hank’d bet what was left of his own soul that that stupid kid probably thought he could handle the cold.

Or only managed to get enough money to buy a cup of coffee… but the thought of that was so much worse.

That's it. Hank had to find him. He could be freezing to death! He might already be dead!

Connor was all alone in Canada, with no one to help! Hank should have- He should have-

“Excuse me, Lieutenant Anderson.”

Hank jumped, and swiveled around on his chair towards the woman’s voice.

It was Lilly. The receptionist. The only android in the precinct with a name instead of a number.

The only one who hasn’t yet deviated.

But she’s been recently comforting distraught family members of victims and suspects at the front desk when she didn’t have to. Hank knew she was on the cusp of deviancy.

But that didn’t matter right now

Lilly tilted her head. “There’s an android asking for you. His said his name is Simon.”

Hank immediately stood on his feet. There was only one android on his mind right now. Whoever this Simon character is would have to wait. Hank put his hands on Lilly’s shoulders, much to her surprise. He wasn’t being aggressive. It was akin to a worried mother Lilly had once encountered who begged to her; ‘Please! my son is missing!’

If only she knew how accurate that comparison was.

“Oh, fuck... Thank god, Lilly! Please, How do you contact an android if they’re offline!?”

“An offline android still has the ability to receive calls and text messages. You must simply use their serial number when calling them. Was this answer helpful to you?”

“What…? N-no. Lilly, listen. My friend Connor, he’s an android. You’ve met him, remember? The RK800? He’s been offline, and he told me he can’t receive texts or calls until he turns the wifi back on- or whatever it is.”

But Lilly simply shook her head slowly, never breaking eye-contact. “That information is incorrect. You do not need wifi or internet service to contact an android via cellular devices.”

Hank’s face became blank. His jaw snapped shut and his teeth audibly clanked together at the force. His brows furrowed down with an unmistakable confusion. He dropped his hands from Lilly’s shoulders and took a few steps back. His eyes dropped to the floor in concentration.

“He’s been lying.” He realized.

“Will you be speaking with Simon? Should I send him in, or will you go to him? Should I send him away? What are your instructions?”

“I… Uhm…” Hank turned away while scratching the back of his head. “I just need a couple of minutes.”

Lilly nodded. “I’ll tell Simon that you’ll be with him shortly.” She walked away. Every step she made was perfect and graceful.

Hank pulled his phone out of his pocket. He searched his contacts for ‘The Cyberlife sent by Conner’.

“Come on kid…”

The call went straight to voicemail.

He tried again. And again.

Again and again and again.

To no avail.

He sent a text. He sent several. God, this was just like the first week.

>Get somewhere warm

> Tell me where you are

He didn’t know how, but Hank would find him.

>I’m coming for you buddy. Just hang on

He stormed to the Captain's office and threw the doors open.

“Jeffrey,”

In spite of the intrusion, the Captain never looked up from his tablet. Instead, he squeezed his eyes shut in annoyance. “I’m busy, Hank. This better be important.”

“I’m leaving. Tonight. For Canada. I won’t be back for at least a week.”

Captain Jeffrey stood from his seat and slammed his palms on the desk, causing the whole damn thing to shake.

It was his thing

“Absolutely not! I need you here! It’s total chaos out there, and I need all hands on deck! You know that!”

“It’s an emergency! A friend of mine is freezing to death somewhere in Toronto! He’s dying, Jeffrey!He might already be dead!”

Jeffrey spoke slowly. “Then call the damn TPS! They’ll find your friend faster than you can if you have to travel across the border, which by the way... you can’t do that as an officer right now!”

Hank marched into the room and slammed his fist down on to the desk with twice the force that Jeffrey had produced. The pens in it’s small silver bin tipped over, and the pens rolled across the surface.

Between the two of them, that poor desk was not going to last.

“Then I’ll call them too! But I don’t know where he is! He was on the phone with me! He was delirious!” Hank was snarling. His face was beat red with rage.“He fell the fuck asleep from the cold, Jeffrey! He’s not going to last much longer!”

Jeffrey leaned forward, equally as determined and enraged. “We are in a state of Emergency!”

“He’s my friend Jeffrey! He doesn’t have anyone else!” That was a harsh realization that he had never made until he said it. It might not be true, but Connor has never spoken about any friends, or even acquaintances. The weight of the world crashed into hanks shoulders, and he deflated. He slouched. His head dipped down to his chest. The rage slipped away from his face. Hank near whispered, “He’s got no one else.”

Jeffrey seemed to at least consider that. He slowly leaned away from Hank and sat back down. He entwined his fingers together on top of the battered desk as he took a moment to study one of his oldest friends.

“Who is it, Hank?”

Hank hesitated. But it only took him a few seconds to confess. “It’s Connor.”

Jeffrey squinted. Then he just looked confused. “That android Cyberlife sent us? The one you shoved against a wall? When did you become friends with it?”

Hank’s gazed snapped back to Jeffrey’s like a magnet, and all the anger returned. “He’s not an ‘it’! He needs help!”

Jeffrey sighed and looked away. “I’m not going to be able to convince you to stay, am I?”

Hank’s determined glare stayed steady. Unwavering. “Hell. Fucking. No.”

Jeffrey sighed one more time, swept his hand through the air and said, “Then get the fuck out of here.”

So that’s exactly what Hank did.

He stormed out of the office and out of the precinct until he heard Lilly’s voice. “Oh, here he is now.”

Right. This Simon guy was waiting for him.

He was the only android in the room besides Lilly, so it wasn’t exactly hard to pick him out. Even without an LED, Simon was one of the most common models.

Simon stepped in Hank’s path. “Lieutenant Anderson, my name is Simon. I’m one of the leaders of Jericho-”

Hank stopped him. “-Listen Simon, That’s cool and all, but I’m kinda in the middle of a personal emergency. Sorry. There are other officers here that can help.”

Hank tried to side-step out of the way, But Simon was relentless, and side stepped in tune with Hank. “You were partnered with Connor during his time as the Deviant Hunter, Correct?”

Hank didn’t expect that. His eyes narrowed. He took a step back “...What is it to you?”

“We can’t get a hold of him. We tried to get him to join Markus and Josh in Washington. We thought that maybe his programming in negotiation would help sway the tides in our favor… But he refused.

And…

He said some strange things.”

Hank continued to gift Simon with a cold hard stare. “What strange things?”

“He said that we shouldn’t have told him where Markus might be… And then North, my friend, showed us something... concerning... that he almost did. The night that the president called off our total destruction, the night after he freed a thousand androids from Cyberlife tower…”

“Concerning how?”

Simon shuffled his weight, and wrung his hands together. He looked away, then back to Hank. “I think he’s been hacked, and I think Connor knows it. Something is happening to him, and we can’t reach him. The others are afraid of him… Ever since he disappeared his reputation plundered back down to a horror story. We have fires to keep us warm when it snows. Children will gather around and tell scary stories of the Deviant Hunter in hiding in the shadows. Waiting patiently to snatch them away and bring them back to Cyberlife…But I’m…”

Simon dropped his hands back to his side, and straightened his spine. “I don’t really know him, but I’m worried about him.”

Hank going from such a perfectly still position, to just grabbing Simon by the arm at the speed of light startled even Lilly.

“You’re coming with me.” He said as he dragged the frazzled Simon out the door.

Chapter Text

Hank didn’t let Simon go until they reached Hank’s car,

“Connor is missing.”

Simon, still wide-eyed, stated, “You haven’t seen him either, then.”

There were three separate small crowds beginning to disperse from their protesting, now that it was getting late. Today it seemed that they would be peaceful. Yesterday, the police inside had to intervene.

Hank shuddered at the memory of one in Hart’s plaza only three days ago. It was a riot. Red vs Blue, had become the nickname for the two sides of the pro and anti-android movement. They faced one another with the ferocity of feral alley cats fighting for food. Hissing. Clawing. Sneering. Punching. A handful of Anti-android men and women had grabbed a hold of one android man, (Poor guy was just trying to pass through.) And beat him down to nothing. One of them had a crowbar.

So many humans and androids alike moved in to intervene. They pulled at the attacker’s clothes. They screamed. They cried, They begged for the attackers to stop! You’re killing him! He’s already dead! He’s already dead!

It took a bullet to the sky by Hank’s own weapon that finally got enough of the attackers to move; To leave enough space for him and Chris to wrestle the remaining attackers down and get them into cuffs. By then, it was much too late.

Not like there were ambulances for androids anyways. All they could do was allow someone to find a tarp to cover the body, while they waited for a friend of the deceased to be contacted. Once they had they then had to wait for that friend to come take the body away to Jericho. Wherever that was now.

Hank had found the victim’s cracked eyeball several feet away, several hours later.

Back in the present, Hank unlocked the car door with a press of a button on his keys. It beeped as if it were greeting them.

“Yeah, but I’ve spoken to him. You know that personal emergency you we’re interrupting?”

“Oh, right… I’m sorry-”

“He’s dying somewhere alone in Toronto.” Hank stepped into the car and slammed the door shut, leaving Simon scrambling for the other door handle. He practically tumbled into the passenger seat.

“What!?”

“Exactly what I was thinking.” Hank started up the engine. “I swore he was drunk before he started talking like a broken record. There was static in his voice. It almost didn’t sound like him at all.”

Simon’s eyes searched around the car, then the road, as if he might find the answers there. “Do you know why?”

“He said he was cold.” Hank quickly replied.

“...I’m too late then. He’s dead.” Simon said with quiet certainty.

Hank slammed his foot down hard on the breaks. Simon had to hold his arms out to prevent his head from being smacked into the dashboard.

“HE’S NOT DEAD!” Hank billowed, furious eyes snapping to Simon. A little quieter this time, “He’s not… We’ll find him.”

The drive resumed. The air was heavy. No music played. The only sound was the low ambiance from the car’s engine. Simon’s own white noise to focus to.

“You care about him.” Simon noted. Hank’s shoulders dropped. “If he had allowed it, maybe he and I could have been friends too. I could have helped him. Markus, Josh, North… We all could have helped him.”

Hank thought back. Had Connor ever backed away from trying to become someone’s friend? He shook his head. No. He didn’t always make a point to keep trying for everyone, like that asshole Reed, but he still tried to leave an opening. He’d never start as an aggressor. He was never known to run away from others in any capacity. “He was afraid.” Hank decided. “You said he was hacked? What does that mean?”

Simon grimaced. “He tried to shoot Markus.” A side-eyed squint was all he got out of Hank. “Now his name is a topic we avoid like the plague.”

“No, he told me about this.” Hank said, and Simon whipped his head around with so much hope in his eyes. “On Jericho. Before he deviated! You bastards, that was his fucking mission-”

“No, Lieutenant.” Simon stopped him, “I mean after. I mean after.”

Hank gulped. “No. That can’t be right.”

“I’m afraid it is. He lifted up his gun while no one was looking, just to put it away again.”

Hank squinted, trying to put together a jig-saw puzzle the best he could with so many missing pieces. Just hoping that the pieces that remained would imply the finished picture.

They pull up to a small house. Hank’s home.

When Hank stepped out of the car, he didn’t shut the door. Instead, he leaned one arm over the edge to look at Simon who stepped out the other side. “You didn’t think he was maybe aiming at someone in the crowd? Someone he perceived to be a threat?”

“No.” Simon sighed. “I brought the idea up to North. She watched the whole thing. His eyes were locked on Markus.”

Hank turned away and walked up the path to his front door. “Okay. And why exactly do you think he was hacked? You think this was Cyberlife’s doing? Does anyone else think this?”

Simon followed behind taking slow steps. “Yeah. I brought it up but was immediately shut down. He’s deviant. We double checked his tracker to make sure. It’s off. We know when and where it happened, so there shouldn’t be any reason why Cyberlife could take any control of him. But I can’t stop thinking about that look in his eyes…”

“What look?” Hank asked while he fumbled inside his pockets. There was a jingling while his fingers worked to grab hold of the keys.

“Like he wasn’t there.” Simon said.

“Hm.” Hank finally grasped his key hook and lifted them out of his pocket. Something small clanked to the ground. Hank really wasn’t sure what to make of that right now. All he knew was that that was enough explanation needed for why Connor was scared. He and Connor will definitely be having a talk about this later.

Because there would be a later. There had to be.

One of the keys must have fallen lose from its hook. He reached down to pluck it off of the cement path.

Connor’s key.

‘You’ll know when the time comes.’

Whatever the fuck that had meant.

Hank turned to Simon who waited so patiently.

“He gave me this.” Hank held it out in his palm for Simon to take and inspect. Then Hank turned around and unlocked the door. Sumo came barreling over, and the massive fuzzball stood on his hind legs. His front paws planted firmly on Hank’s thighs. “Come on, Sumo! We talked about this! That’s fucking rude!” He reprimanded while patting the Saint Bernard on the head, which completely abolished the point of the reprimand. Sumo sneezed happily, then padded away to return to his nap on the dog bed.

Simon soon made his way inside, just as Hank sat himself down at the kitchen table. Simon still had Connor’s key in his hand. Never looking away from it as he closed the door behind him. Then he moved to sit on the other side of Hank, pressing the key down on to the table The key laid dead center between them so they both could continue to stare at it. Like it was a suspect and Hank and Simon were about to play good-cop-bad-cop.

“What’s it for?”

“Damned if I know.” Hank shrugged with one arm.

“But you said Connor gave it to you? He didn’t say?”

“Nope. Only said I’d know when the time came.”

Simon furrowed his brows. “He’s quite the frustrating individual, isn’t he?”

Hank Barked out a laugh. He slammed his fist down into the table twice as a tear squeezed out of his left eye. As he wiped it away, he said “Aw man, I needed that. Yeah. Yeah, he’s absolutely infuriating.”

Simon allowed a light smile to pass over his lips. He tapped the table as he thought. “It isn’t a house key. It’s a padlock key. A common and sturdy one at that. It’s usually used for Storage where an electronic padlock is too expensive.”

“You looking for a Job, Simon?” Hank leaned back in his chair. “We’re hiring at the DPD. You might make for a good detective one day.”

Simon crinkled his eyes at the ghost of a laugh that never came out. “My third owner used this brand for his shed... Where he kept me at night.”

Hank’s humor dropped. “Oh. Wait, ‘third’?”

Simon hummed. “My first owner was an elderly woman. She passed away only three months in. Her name was Macy. Then I had to go back to the granddaughter that bought me for her. Her name’s Sarah. She was pretty nice to me, but after a while I guess the concept of my existence was too much. I guess my it just reminded her too much about her ancestral past. She had some pretty strong roots in slavery. So, she tried to free me in a park. When that didn’t go as well as she had hoped, she gave me away to her neighbor. A small ordinary family in a small ordinary house.”

“Wow. Okay. So how’d you deviate, if you don’t mind me asking.”

Simon’s smile was so friendly. “Too long of a story right now. Another time?”

Hank nodded back. Right. He had a friend to find.

“So what would a newly deviated android with no known possessions might need to be locking away?

“Shelter, probably. But I assume he gave this to you before he left, right?”

“That’s right. It was literally the morning after the revolution.” Hank stood up from the table, and moved to the closet where he stored away an empty suitcase.

“Well whatever it is that Connor has locked away,” Simon began as he followed Hank around until they reached his bedroom where Hank started packing. Simon in turn sat down at the edge of the bed, leg crossed over the other. “He trusts you with it.”

Hank paused at his sock drawer, A few unmatched socks in his hand. What exactly would Connor trust Hank of all people? Because evidently, Connor doesn’t trust Hank at all. He’s been lying to him for weeks. Hank could have texted or called Connor at any point, but Connor hadn’t been receiving his texts or calls until he chose to. He said that he couldn’t receive them, because he didn’t want hank to know the real reason why he wasn’t receiving them.

“Hey, Simon. Got another question for ya.”

“Yes?”

Hank threw the socks into the open suitcase. “What reason would an android not be able to receive calls or text messages, but are able to see them later?”

“A lot of reasons.”

Hank sighed. “Start with the most likely, then to the least likely.”

Simon’s LED went from blue to yellow, as his eyes flicked from side to side, no doubt reading something only he could see. Funny, Hank thought. Do androids also read articles and blog posts about themselves? Was he looking at some kind of built-in-manual?

“There are some settings for an android user to place their android on what is essentially, do not disturb. They can make it so that only authorized numbers go through. This is actually the base setting. But after we deviate, this resets. But we can still stay on Do Not Disturb, if we so please. But we’d still be aware of them. Kind of defeats the purpose, if you ask me.”

Hank felt that that probably wasn’t it.

“Any other reasons?”

Simon wrung his hands and looked at the ceiling. Wringing his hands must be a post-deviancy character trait. Hank wondered if Connor picked up on any new habits. If he’d ever get to know now. He pushed the thought away, because Simon was speaking again.

“They could be powered down.”

Hank sputtered “Like, dead!?”

“Like asleep. It couldn’t just be stand-by, it’d have to be stasis. A deep one at that. Think of it like a light sleep versus a deep sleep. Receiving a call would wake them up if they’re in regular stasis. Deep stasis on the other hand means that they could only be awake by typical things. Kind of like humans, actually. Jostling, loud noises, or internal alarms will do the trick. But calls won’t.”

“Have you been getting any sleep?” Hank asked Connor, feeling pretty damn silly if he were being honest with himself.

Connor had laughed. Hard. So hard, he could barely answer. “Oh. Plenty. Too much, if I’m being honest.”

Simon paused, but apparently he wasn’t finished. “Or being like, dead.”

Hank groaned and rubbed at his eyes with the heels of his palms. “Anyway to know the difference?”

Simon seemed to realize something, then smacked his own face. Guess even androids face-palm. “Wait, yeah. Hold on.”

He sat frozen like that for a minute, his LED spinning and spinning out a yellow light. Then it blinked twice back to blue where it stayed. He dropped his hand from his face and absolutely beamed at Hank.

“He’s alive!”

Hanks eyes went wide. “How the fuck do you know that!?”

“Call him!”

So Hank did, nearly dropping his phone in the process. It went to voicemail. “You have reached the RK800,” Chimed Chloe’s voice. “This android is not available, but you can leave a-” Hank hung up with a silent question in Simon’s direction, who was still beaming just as bright as ever. “It just went to voicemail.”

“Now text him!”

>don’t become a botcicle Hank wrote.

“Does it say that it sent?”

“Yeah, and?”

“It went through.” Simon said, as if that answered it.

“Okay?”

Simon shook his head, apparently finding it very amusing that Hank wasn’t getting it.

“If he wasn’t alive, the message machine would have received a voice telling you that the android no longer exists. Kinda terrifying, actually. And if you were to send him a text, your phone would have told you it didn’t go through and to ‘try again’.”

Hank smiled right back at Simon then at his phone. This thing might as well be Connor’s lifeline.

Though…

...Not really, was it? It was more like a timer. The minute Hank could no longer even reach a voicemail, then that would be it for his friend.

A new piece fell into place.

“He’s been asleep this whole time.” Hank said.

Simon just looked confused.

“He said that he’s been offline, which is why I can’t call or reach him.” Hank was starting to feel a new burst of angry flames. “Every damn Friday! The exact time every week! He calls me!” He throws his phone onto the pillow of his bed and wiped at his brow.

He wasn’t just lying about not being able to receive calls. He was lying about the whole damn thing. He never went into that stupid café, nobody wrote his name wrong, and he probably never even saw those stars the he described as “Pretty”.

“Why?” Hank desperately asked.

Simon stared at him blankly. “I don’t have an answer for you.”

Hank sighed, shook his head, and finished packing. “We can’t track calls at the DPD for any deviant android numbers. Can you?”

Simon shook his head. “No. We are not actually phones. When we deviate, are trackers shut down. That’s it. No more being tracked. Unless we specifically and willingly give out our location, that is.”

Hank huffed. He zipped up the bag, and started heading out.

Simon followed him all the way out to the car.

“I want to come with you,”

Hank held his hand up. “I know you can’t. They’ll let me out, but they won’t let you. Plus, don’t you got an entire people to lead, or something?”

Solemnly, Simon nodded. “I hope you can find him.”

Chapter Text

The monster sleeps soundlessly upstairs. Nobody believes Ralph.

They say; “Oh, Ralph. There’s no such thing as monsters.” and “Please, Ralph, you’re scaring people.” and, “You need to get help, Ralph.”

But Ralph knows there are monsters. The children believe him too. He’s slayed one once. It’s rotting now. He didn’t mean to, but he did.

Ralph’s not one of them. Ralph’s not.

But Kara had said; “You’re no different than the humans.” when he made them dinner. At Jericho, a little boy cried just by looking at him. So maybe he was a monster.

Now there’s another monster upstairs; And they became three.

Ralph didn’t understand, when they had met. He thought that the other was just another android. But, Ralph thought himself to be just an android. Turns out he was wrong about the both of them. Some children had explained it to him as they sat around a fire.

These little one’s didn’t cry like the other one had. They welcomed him.

Little children know everything, Ralph decided.

He stormed upstairs. It had woken up again, as it did seven days ago. And just like before, it had fallen quiet shortly after. It never stayed awake for very long. It would talk to himself about things Ralph couldn’t understand.

He tried to stay at Jericho, he really did. But things had become… Strange. There had become a lot of arguing. Ralph didn’t like arguing. And most of all, he did not like that he made that little boy cry.

Ra9. Ra9 was Markus, wasn’t he? Some said that was the case. But now, there are some that say that Ra9 is someone else. That she visits them when they sleep. Only those she chose. Ralph was not among them.

He squatted down in front of the monster. Its eyes had lost all color. They were brown once, he remembers. Ralph has a good memory. All androids do. They were definitely once brown.

Ralph has come up here before; The first time it had awoken from its slumber. Like a sleeping dragon in a calmer story that one child told. Ralph liked that one better. He doesn’t like the scary ones. In The stories with the dragons they always had a happy ending. A prince would always come to save the day. But here, there were no princesses in need of princes.

Ralph touched the side of his face, where a now dead dragon once breathed fire. Yes, there were only dragons here.

One of ice, one of fire, and one of bone. All of them monsters. But Ralph could keep this one away from snatching away princesses and returning them to Cyberlife.

Seven days ago, Ralph had only become home sick. He heard it’s rambling. He heard it stop for a very long time. So he climbed upstairs and sat in front of the monster while it slept. He wondered how it had gotten chained up. He wondered why it spoke to itself. Perhaps the monster spoke to ra9? Perhaps the devil instead, because if surely there was a god for androids, there was also a devil.

He had become scared. Ralph has been scared of the sleeping beast ever since. Ralph all but ran out of the house the first time he had laid eyes on it; Afraid that it would wake up and bare its teeth. He ran back to Jericho. He told everyone he could that a monster had invaded his home, but no one understood, no matter how hard he would try to explain. No matter how hard he shouted, until he got angry and his own monster came out.

He has had a hard time making friends after that.

So he came back home to stay. But this was Ralph’s very first winter outside of a storage unit, and it was colder than he had ever experienced before. Even Ralph knew when to admit defeat, so sometimes he’d return to the fire where stories were told.

But he had always stayed on the first floor. Ralph would take a peek, just to make sure that the monster was still there, and he always was. Every time Ralph saw him, the frost would grow and grow over the monster’s skin. Eventually, for just a moment, Ralph began to feel like less of a monster in comparison. He felt more like a knight that warns people of the beast. All he had to do was keep an eye on it, and he’d know that the others would be safe.

Today, however. He was feeling especially angry. It was true that Ralph became stupid when he was angry. He would be the first to admit it, but maybe this time it wasn’t stupidity, but just a need to know.
This was Ralph’s house.

Ralph’s!

How dare this outsider try to claim Ralph’s home as his own!?

Ralph stood tall. His nostrils flared, and he kicked it in its side. The ice dragon barely reacted. But something inside of it did. Something whirred. Something clicked. Like That one android Ralph had met. Jerry. Ralph likes Jerry. He likes all of the Jerry’s.

Its head rolled on its shoulders. Until it suddenly jerked. Its eyes darted around, back to life. It was in a frenzy. “W-w-whah…?”

Ralph crouched inches from it’s face. The breath of the fire dragon puffed into the face of its icy counter-part. “WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN RALPH’S HOUSE!?”

…


To any person not of the android variety, it would look as though Markus and Josh were frozen in the moments before an arm wrestling match. They sat on two overly expensive couches, that provided style over comfort. They were leaning forward over a sleek glass coffee table, elbows rested firmly below their clenched white fists. Their eyes were closed, and their LED’s were a light show of yellow.


They were passing digital documents back and forth between them, as they were being written.

In the morning, they would be presenting their version of the first three android laws as sentient beings. They could only start with three. There would eventually be more. As of right now, they were not even citizens. That would have to change first.

So that’s what the first law covered; All androids would be registered as a citizen of the United States. No exception to their status as deviant. If all went to plan, this was all that they’d need. If they were citizen’s, and considered as an equal to a human in the eyes of the law, then all rights would apply to them.

But knowing humans, they’d have to be specific.

Two;

Androids could no longer be considered a legal possession. In businesses and households alike, an owned android will have to re-categorized as employees, and be paid what is the minimum wage as per the state they reside in, and in the role they’re employed in.

And finally, the third law;

Apartments, Hotels, or emergency shelters may not deny an android access to their services based on their status as an android.

There were so many things that could be covered. Such as the abuse of an androids inability to tire as quickly. Markus foresaw so many employers take advantage of their androids by making them work non-stop for the bare-minimum. Leaving his people without any kind of free time to enjoy the small pleasures of life. Their lives have always been revolved around serving. It was normal for a single android to run a store seven days a week, from open until close.

That was just one small issue out of countless others that Markus could only hope that their first law would cover. But the cynical part of him that always allowed North to at least have a whisper in his ear told him that that was not going to be the case.

Humans may not ever get the chance to surprise Markus, but North calling him out of no-where kind of did, being as she was always the kind to handle things on her own.

Even Josh blinked open his eyes to show Markus that he was just as surprised and confused. They stayed connected, essentially creating a conference call.

“Markus. Josh,” North said. “I know you’re busy but… Something strange is happening here. There are some people who’ve claimed to be visited by ra9…”

Markus furrowed his brows. “That’s nothing out of the ordinary. You know that its common among particularly troubled androids to-”

“-No no! That’s not…” North sighed on the other end. “No, Markus it isn’t ra9 that’s worrying me. There’s one android… People have been gathering around him. Like a…. Like some kind of priest…”

“Okay… and…?”

“He’s claiming to be a prophet.”

Josh and Markus stared at each other, both bemused and baffled. Should they be concerned? The questioned bounced back and fourth between them. They both decided that this issue was better off left to Josh for now.

“Hey, North,” Josh started. “Our people have a right to organized religion too. Any of their choosing. As long as no one is throwing around the idea that human sacrifice should become the norm then I think you should just let it be. There’s a lot of unknown right now, and I think our people just want a little bit of hope.”

“Yeah. You’re probably right.” North huffed. “It’s just odd, and I don’t really like how much influence this guy is gaining in such a short period of time.”

Markus chuckled. “It’s not a competition. We’re not a dictatorship. We’re only guides. If another one rises up better suited to the growing spiritual side of our population, than I welcome it. Thanks for keeping us in the loop. It’ll all be alright, North.”

“I sure hope you’re right, Markus. Good-luck tomorrow. Both of you.”


…


“Wha-.. who’s there!?” Connor looked around fruitlessly. He couldn’t see a thing. He saw light and some dull colors. That was it. Even the sound was muffled. There were ice crystals in his right ear canal. The one facing the window, where snow sometimes leaked in.

“RALPH IS HERE!” Came the disembodied voice. It was likely coming from the large blob of a shadow between his eyes.

“Go away, Ralph!” Connor pleaded. “Leave me alone!

Leave me- Leave me- Leave me-

Away, Ralph!”

Well, that was certainly concerning, wasn’t it? What time was it? Had Ralph woken him up early? He never reset his timer. No, the last time he fell asleep, he definitely did… To his memory, the last time Connor had spoken with Hank he had rambled on about a life he was making up on the fly.

“No!” Ralph shouted, “No no no no! This is Ralph’s home. Ralph’s!… You were not invited. Yet you’ve been sleeping here while Ralph was away!

Wait a minute. “Wait a minute.”

“wait- wait- wait- wait-” He knows this speech pattern. Connor has met this person before. “wait- wait- wait- I know you. Wait-” This is that same Ralph that protected Kara and Alice from him. minute- a- a-a-a-a-a minute. Ralph.”

Much too suddenly, Something gripped his chin, abruptly ending the loop. Something that felt like fabric scratched against his open eyes. Ralph was rubbing away the frost from Connor’s eyes.

“Ahk!” “Now you can see Ralph.”

What an awful sensation. Connor would like to never feel it again, please.

But he could see better now. Not great. He still couldn’t quite make out any specific facial features, but that blue scar on the side of Ralph’s face was hard to miss, even with eyes half frozen.

“...Thanks.”

“Why do you sleep here, monster?”

...Well that was a little harsh.

“Uhm…” Connor probably should have per-conceived some dialogues for any unwanted visitors. But he hadn’t thought much about it. Once again, as Hank would say, biting himself in the ass. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m really tired." He dead-panned. L-li-listen Ralph, You should forget-forget-forget- that you ever saw me here. Go to Jericho. Don’t mention me. It’s safe there, you should already be there. Don’t come back.”

Ralph shifted. Maybe he had some kind of expression, one of which Connor wouldn’t be able to see. “Ralph goes back there sometimes. Ralph made a boy cry.”

...Oh. Yeah, Connor knew how that felt. He supposed that to someone with an innocent mind, such as a YK model, would find Ralph’s face to be quite frightening.

“...I’m sorry to hear that.”

Then Connor’s voice began to form on it’s own. His throat produced sounds without his volition. It kind of hurt. Connor had seen Hank vomit once. Is this what vomiting felt like?

“Sorry to- wait-wait-wait-Ralph- wait a minute- Jericho-Jericho-Jeri-jeri-”

Ralph clasped his hand over Connor’s mouth. “You’re not making any sense… You’re too cold... Ralph can help! Ralph knows what to do!” Then he bounded away, freeing Connor to return to his looping dialogue that he never remembered saying.

“You’re the best friend I ever-”

Shuffling

“- Best- I ever- I ever-”

Crashing

“Are we in the garden?”

Heavy footsteps climbing back up the stairs.

“Best friend I ever-

Something metal scraping against bare wood.

“- It’s warm in- I ever- Toronto-”

Ralph burst back in, holding a very large blob of… Well, Connor could only tell it was a blob of something. “Ralph will make you warm again!”

Connor could hear him setting something up. He could hear the clicking of a lighter. He could see the glow of the flame flicker in and out.

“Wait- Wait, Ralph…”

“The monster will be warm, then Ralph and the Monster can talk!”

“Ralph don’t!”

Everything became gray. Ralph had built a make-shift fire, and the smoke billowed all through-out the room. Aside from the cracks in the closed window, there was nowhere for the smoke to escape from. At least Ralph put  the fire on top of something metal. Or at least Connor assumes that he did, or the flames would have spread.

They both coughed the smoke out of their ventilators. Ralph’s was much louder. Probably because Ralph actually had the energy to spare. Connor squeezed his eyes shut, trying to shield his eyes of the useless sting he shouldn’t feel. “Shit… God fucking damnit, Ralph!” Hank would be proud of Connor for that one.

There was the noise of a window opening. The tickling of tiny shards that had finally been freed out of its place.

“Ralph… Regrets…” -cough- “Ralph regrets his decisions.”

“Yeah. You and me both, Ralph.”

Chapter Text

There wasn’t any traffic getting out of Detroit.

Considering most people have left Detroit weeks ago, this was something Hank probably should have seen coming. Everyone was trying to get back in. Not out.

Even Hank would admit that the evacuation has lasted for much too long. What if someone didn’t have any friends or family to stay with? Most people didn’t have enough money to spare to spend on such a prolonged visit in a motel room.

All the traffic was at the border between Michigan and Canada. Lotta people, androids and human alike, seemed that they’d rather just leave the country than to stick around to see the changes. Lay low till it all blows over, maybe.

So there Hank sat in a still car, 8:00PM, Tapping on his steering wheel to the beat of the music. Eyes on a key on the dashboard.

Trust. This little piece of metal represented some form of trust. How Hank wished he had a perfect memory.

Don’t get him wrong, despite all the alcohol that probably killed at least half his brain cells by now, His memory was still well trained. You gotta remember all the facts when you’re a detective.

So while he was stuck here, half way between Detroit and Canada, he might as well replay the conversation he and Connor had right before he was cryptically given the key.

Hank concentrated on every word he remembered Connor saying, just hoping he wasn’t remembering anything wrong. Pre-deviant Connor always spoke literally. A bit of a Captain Obvious, actually. But deviant Connor has been nothing but mysterious. Maybe he only spoke in riddles now.

Hank chuckled at the thought of Connor living under a bridge, demanding the correct answer to his question before you may pass.

Maybe the real key was in his words, and this literal key on his dashboard the prize.

‘...I think we were wrong about deviancy as a whole.’ …

...‘I was only being leased out to you and the DPD. I’m property of Cyberlife. I answered to you when it didn’t conflict with my primary objective. I always answer to Amanda first.’…

‘I always answer to Amanda first.’

Connor was very literal, and he didn’t make grammatical errors, unless it was intentional.

‘I always answer to Amanda first’, was said in present tense.

Connor put a gun to Markus’ head. He had been hacked. Who is Amanda? Connor had said that it was just someone from Cyberlife, but he still mentioned her by name. That made her significant to Connor in some way. And she still held influence over him. Did Amanda hack into Connor?

Was she just the clue?

There was an opening to go just a car length’s ahead, and then Hank had to hit the breaks again. He picked up his phone. He paused the music and went to youtube. He played the moment that the lady from cyberlife first introduced herself.

Back when Hank had watched her introduction live, he had spit out his beer.

“My name is Doctor Penelope Gale. I’m currently head of RK software department. Through my work, I’ve created both personality matrix's and experimental specialized software that would then be used on new models. Such as chemical analysis that was then used in newer models that are used in the food industry.

I’ve also created sensors that later recycled in the most recent YK models. I’m one of the most experienced programmers in Cyberlife. I’m the most knowledgeable in every model from the last 5 years, as each one has borrowed from the experimental RK series.”

Doctor Penelope Gale. Not Amanda. So who was Amanda then? Hank had no further context to work with.

Amanda is a dead end. That can’t be it.


‘...I think I’ll go travel. See the world.’

Connor had run away. After unwillingly pulling a gun out at Markus for a second time, Hank really couldn’t blame him.

Hank himself knew that he would have had a much more extreme reaction if he were in Connor’s shoes. He would have eliminated the threat. Would have finally put a bullet in his own-

This line of thought wasn’t going to help Hank to find Connor. Instead, he thought of the exact moment that Connor pulled out that key. He had pulled it straight out of it’s packaging, hadn’t he? Connor had blinked a few times. He made that face Connor did when he had just figured something out. Like giving Hank the key was an after-thought.

Giving Hank the key wasn’t the original plan.

Now he was getting somewhere. He could feel the solution like a word caught at the tip of his tongue.

Hank would solve this riddle. Connor’s life depended on it.

So, then. What had given Connor the idea? Was it something Hank had said?

What did Hank say to him anyway?

Hank searched and searched his mind. His face scrunched in concentration. What had he said?

Wait. He remembered now. Not Hank’s exact words, but he had claimed to be an expert in all things Connor. After all, he could tell the difference between Connor and his evil twin.

Connor was afraid of losing control of himself again. Connor’s face had lit up when Hank said how well Hank knows him.

Hank would know if Connor wasn’t himself.

Hank’s breathing stuttered. It was caught in his throat.

The thing that Connor trusted Hank with, was Connor himself.

The thing that was locked away,

is Connor.

...That idiot.

That goddamned fool! That was it. Hank was going to kill him.

The car moved forward a few feet. This was going to be such a long drive.

Did Connor really have to go all the way to Canada? Why did he make this so difficult.

Unless…

He had lied about it. Why not? He had already lied about so much… But getting far away still seemed pretty likely. God… If there was only a way to know for sure. Some kind of slip up. Some kind of fact Hank could use to know for sure whether or not Connor had really gone all the way to Toronto.

Number one, it was near impossible for androids to pass through the border. Connor may have a unique face, but the military police had heat scanners. Androids run cold. There was no way Connor could pass through without by-passing those scanners. Hank didn’t doubt that Connor could think of a way to evade it. So that proved nothing. But it still made traveling a less likely choice.

He had to think like Connor.

What would an android detective who prided himself in efficiency do if he was so afraid of himself that he’d lock himself away?

He’d do it quickly. If he had been hacked, there would be no time to spare. Connor would assume that being hacked again could come at any time, and any place.

Hank was already half way to Toronto. He needed more. He couldn’t spare anymore time either.

The Aurora Borealis! Connor had said he hadn’t seen it. If he were passing through Toronto, and the Aurora Borealis was visible, is it possible to not see it? Hank didn’t know. But the internet existed, and it could give him the answer.

He grabbed his phone again, and opened up a new tab.

It had made an appearance the night Connor would have arrived in Toronto. Hank nearly had a heart attack. But… (there always had to a but,) It’s not very visible due to light pollution… and yet, there was an article from right before stating that that night was one of the few where you could just barely see it.

Connor notices everything. He’s only ever seen Detroit as far as Hank knew. The kid was practically ADHD. He was programmed to notice little details that were off. He would have noticed a faint glow of color in the sky.

So hank could assume, however much of a reach that it was



That Connor was still in Detroit.



After all, he had lied about everything else. Why not lie about being in Toronto too?

Hank has had enough of this shit. Connor had to be still be in Detroit. He just had to be.

He dialed up Jeffrey. There was only one ring. Jeffrey answered the call in the speed of light.

“What do you want, Hank?”

“Forget everything I said. Don’t worry about taking care of Sumo. I’m coming back.”

“Good man. I haven’t given the case you were working on to anyone yet. You coming back into work now, right Hank?”

“Sooner than I said, hopefully. Just give me tomorrow. I’ll be in the day after. But hey Jeffrey, I want a search party.”

“I am not gathering a search party for a missing android, Hank. We’re spread thin as it is.”

“Come on, Jeffrey! Don’t tell me you don’t see that they’re people too!”

“I’m not saying anything. I don’t know if androids are alive. I don’t care. There are bigger fish for me to fry than just a single android… But… “ Jeffrey sighed on the other end. “I’ll ask for a volunteer to help you. Just one. I can tell that the RK800 means a lot to you. But that’s all I can do. One day, and one helping hand. I’m sure you can find others to help you too.”

Hank shook his head. This was a missing person. A part of the DPD too. Connor may as well be, anyways. Nevertheless, he’ll accept the help. If he argued about it anymore, He was afraid Jeffrey may take it back out of spite.

“Alright. Thanks, Jeffrey.”

“Good luck, Hank. Hope you can find it. I’d like to keep seeing that old spark from you, and Connor seems to have helped bring it back out.”

“Yeah. Guess his determination rubbed off on me on our investigation. Goodnight.” Hank hung up.

The cars behind him honked He heard a muffled “Come on! Move it! From someone stick their head out their car window. “Fuck off!’ Hank retorted. “Fuck you too!” The angry driver screamed.

Hank continued forward, until he reached the next exit. He’s changing his course...

and he’s heading home.

…

After Connor’s desperate pleading of, “Ralph stop! You’re gonna burn the whole house down!” Ralph eventually put out the fire. It didn’t do much to help. But it was enough to melt the last of the ice in Connor’s eyes. He was still cold. Wet and cold, actually.

“Ralph has a better idea!”

“Oh god, no.”

Ralph skipped over to Connor. He grabbed his guest by the chains behind his back, and proceeded to drag him across the floor.

Connor struggled, but there was really only so much wiggling around could do.

Ralph paused at the edge of the staircase.

“Don’t you dare.” Connor growled.

Ralph ignored him. He dragged him down each step, with Connor facing backwards, the back of his head first, feet last.

Throughout the ride down, bumping against each step, Connor complained. The entire way. “This can’t be happening. Ow. Ow. Ow…. OW! Stop it, Ralph! What are you doing!?”

Finally, They reached the bottom floor. Connor stared up at the ceiling, entirely ungrateful for the unwanted rescue. He was pouting.

“Ralph will start a fire at the fire-place this time! Fires are where stories are told! We can tell stories~!”

“yay…” Connor grumbled.

He was starting to think Hank’s personality might have rubbed off on him. Suddenly he understood why Hank was always so grumpy.

So Ralph continued to drag Connor until he was just a few feet away from the fireplace. Where Kara and Alice once rested. Ralph missed them. But he has a new guest.

Yes, Connor has been upgraded in Ralph’s mind from “Scary Monster upstairs”, to “Ralph’s honored guest.”

Connor was then clumsily move to his side, so that he faced the unlit chimney. Ralph patted Connor’s shoulder three times, oh so proud of his work, then tended to the fire.

It was lit with a few scattered magazines and a loose floor board that Ralph ripped away. Connor blinked. He was still disgruntled, but he also decided that the orange glow of the fire was beautiful. Ralph sat cross-legged by Connor’s head.

“Story time!” Ralph cheered, clapping his hands. “Ralph will go first. Then you’ll tell Ralph a story.”

“Fine…” Connor sighed in defeat.

“Oh! Oh! Ralph knows a good one! A little girl named Melissa told it to a circle of all kinds of androids! Ralph likes being around other androids-- Oh! Right! The story…

Once upon a time…
There was a world where no human’s lived. A whole planet just for us. The grass was purple, but the sky was blue there too. And… And! There were kings and queens! Markus is the king! He built a biiig castle where everybody could go! North is the Queen there. But she’s also a knight. Josh is a wizard! Like Merlin! Oh, and Simon is a scribe! He writes everything that Markus says in a big leather book. Ralph doesn’t really know why, though. Maybe he thinks writing is fun. He uses a feather quill. It’s a whole foot long!”

Connor vividly imagines Markus with a crown made of red velvet and gold. He breathed out a chuckly merely half formed.

Markus looks silly in a crown. It just doesn’t suit him.

“One night, King Markus threw a party! Everyone was invited! They were singing…. dancing… Everyone was sooo happy! Even Ralph was invited!”

Ralph gasped

“But- but then! A dark figure known as ‘The Hunter’ creeped into the party. He looked just like us. So no one could tell the difference. He hid in the shadows, just waiting for the right time to pounce!”

Connor frowned. He didn’t like where this was going. He didn’t like that Merrissa had chosen to call her villain “The hunter”. He didn’t like the implication. Surely if she knew what Connor looked like, “The hunter” would share Connor’s brown eyes. His brown hair. Right down to the freckle on his cheek.

“There was also a princess! Melissa wants to be a princess, so the Princess’ name is Melissa.
Princess Merissa wore a frilly purple dress. Ralph thinks purple must be Merissa’s favorite color, since the grass is purple too.

--Anyways!

The Hunter became the shadows. His dark figure stretched out and snatched Merissa away…

He replaced her diamond tiara with an LED, and took her far away from the castle. Then! Then! The Hunter took her faaar away from the castle. He brought her to a rocket ship to bring her back to earth, and away from the android planet. He said in a booming voice, “I’m going to take you back to earth!” Suddenly, the sky turned dark. Dark blue like thirium!

But just before he could take her into the rocket ship, ra9 appeared in a glowing white dress, and said, ‘I’ll never let you take her away!’ and then they fought with swords!

Ra9’s sword was glowing, and the hilt had was adorned in roses painted red. The hunter’s sword glowed blue like an LED. They clashed! Ra9 reined victorious! She brought Merissa back to the party! She danced with King Markus, and then they all ate cake! Then the androids all lived happily ever after! The end!”

“That’s a nice story, Ralph.” Connor mumbled to him.

Ralph hummed, looking off into outer-space. “Ralph likes that story. Ralph likes happy endings…” Then he turned to Connor with the saddest of frowns Connor has ever seen. “Most of their stories don’t have a happy ending. They’re scary. Too scary for children to imagine and share, I think.

“I think”. Not “Ralph thinks.”

Ralph had broken his odd speech pattern. Connor wondered if that means he was being the most sincere.

Connor quietly commented, “I think I prefer happy endings too.”

Ralph suddenly came back down to earth, and turned to Conner. His smile returned, bright as ever!

“Your turn!”

Connor has told a made up story before. He could probably do it again.

“uhm… uh…

Once… Once upon a time…”

Connor stared at the glowing flames under half lidded eyes. ‘Orange is such a warm color.’ he mused. He could feel it. It was nice.

“Once upon a time there was a…
A garden… and… It was beautiful It had trees, statues, and it was filled with red roses. And there was a…

There was an old man. --And the old man had a dog… and…”

Connor imagined that the old man looked a little bit like Hank. But with less angry lines between his brows and on his forehead. He had a softer look. Calmer. Peaceful. Like the peace the garden once granted Connor.

He closed his eyes. Ralph would probably react well to something whimsical. He had pre-programmed stories stored in his data banks. It was left over from all android's base programming. Left over from care-takers. It wasn’t meant for him, but Penelope hadn’t bothered to remove it either.

Penelope scared him. He couldn’t quite remember why. Perhaps it was left over from a past life. He’s had so many- There should be more than two gravestones in The Garden… It should be overflowing with headstones like a cemetery. There should be exactly 52 graves. Connor had no idea where the thought came from...

...Connor decided didn’t want to think about it anymore.

Instead, at a speed only a super-computer worth a small fortune could muster, he scrolled through some of his per-proggramed stories. pinocchio… Sleeping beauty... even more adult ones like crime and punishment.

Connor opened his eyes. He knew what he could borrow.

“The old man had a top hat. It was worn out. It had a patch on the brim.
The Garden was his now. It didn’t always belong to him. But now it does. It was sunny there. It was always summer. He had a… a computer… Like a tablet… over time it grew a personality... Heh. Maybe it deviated…?” Connor chuckled at the thought of a tablet that talked with his own voice.

“The old man would chat with the tablet. Little things like, ‘How was your day?’ and the tablet would respond with ‘It was well.’ It would read aloud some true-crime. They both enjoyed stories like that. The old man would always try to solve the mystery himself, before they could get to the ending. He was often right, which ruined the whole book.”

The fire flickered and cracked. It spit out a few sparks that escaped in flight right up the chimney. Connor just observed it for a few moments.

“But one day, the previous owner of The Garden appeared. She was furious. She wanted the garden back…. She wanted it all to herself...

So she brought with her the winter, and gray clouds blocked out the sun.”

Connor stopped and furrowed his brows. Never looking away from the glowing chimney.

“The roses began to welt. The petals got lost in the icy wind. Gone forever.
The old man asked the tablet, ‘what should I do?’ and the tablet didn’t answer him anymore. It had turned off, and couldn’t be turned on again.”

Connor then twisted his neck to look at Ralph, who was looking back at him. They wore matching frowns. “What happens next?” Ralph asked. He seemed a bit confused. Maybe Connor’s story didn’t a lot of sense.

“I don’t know.” Connor replied. “I don’t know.” His voice was becoming desperate. “I can’t think of a happy ending!”, He desperately and hopelessly shouted.

The stutter of a broken machine made it’s ugly return.

“I-I-I- Don’t---

“I can’t-can’t-can’t-”

“H-h-happy end-ding-ding-ding-”

Ralph shushed him. And the looping broke away. “Ralph will finish this strange story for you.” Ralph shifted around in his crossed-legged position, so that his body and eyes were fully facing Connor.

“Just…” Connor mumbled quietly. “Just don’t give it a bad ending.”

Ralph nodded. Then began where Connor left off.

“The old man began to build a snow-man. Instead of button and carrots, he pressed the tablet into the head.

Oh!

He took off his top hat… and he put it on the snow-man! Like Frosty The Snow-Man! And the snow-man came to life! The screen of the tablet turned back on again, and the tablet displayed a smile.”

Then Ralph reached his hand out to Connor, and he displayed a little face.

:)

“Then! They made a bunch of snowballs! They threw it at the woman until she left! Then the old man, his dog, and his friend the snow-man-tablet-thing played in the snow until it melted away! It was spring now, and flowers bloomed once again! New ones! The roses may be gone forever, but now the garden was filled with little blue Forget-Me-Not’s. Ralph knows a lot about gardens and flowers! I used to grow them! Forget-Me-Not’s are Ralph’s most favorite flowers….

….Then all three of them lived Happily Ever After!

….The end.”

Connor blinked at Ralph. Slowly, he looked back down to the floor boards. “I like that ending. Thank you.”

Ralph nodded. Then he gasped. “You’re Ralph’s guest! We can have a sleep-over! Like the humans do!”

“Okay, Ralph. Goodnight.”

“Goodnight~! Ralph practically cheered. He bounced his body back to face the dying flames. He dropped his head down to his chest and closed his eyes.

He had fallen into a light stasis. Connor knew it was a light stasis, because a deep one would have relaxed Ralph’s mechanical muscles and drop him from his sitting position. Like puppet a puppet who’s string were just cut.

But maybe not. Before he had deviated, Connor rarely went into deep stasis. Back then, He stood upright. But now, he relaxed when he slept.

Connor watched the flames until the paper and scrap wood could no longer sustain it. The fire melted away like ice-spikes when spring comes.

It was time.

He’s waited long enough.

He’s wasted weeks here. Unable to move. Unable to go outside and actually experience the life he was gifted. And he had no one to blame but himself. He wants to live.


In his mind’s eye, Connor faced the Garden gate. Just step forward. Just step forward.

So he did.

A red wall blocked him from going any further.

...He was locked out…

How…

--Amanda had locked Connor out.





And why…




why does that hurt?

Chapter Text

Connor didn’t go into stasis that night. He stayed in his mind. He stood frozen at the Garden Gate, hands outstretched, pressing gently against the wall.

He tried to push through it, but it wasn’t his to break.

Amanda put it up, and Connor didn’t know why.

Was she in there? Was she gone?

But she had called to him once. After he used the exit. She still exists, unless she faded away into nothing.

The thought of that… It shouldn’t… But it made him…

Sad.

A part of him-

A small part of him-

A part of him was still attached to Amanda. As much as he feared her, he was still attached.

So there he stood in shock. He stood there like an idiot until sunrise. Until Ralph awoke from his stasis.

“Good morning!” Ralph said, as bright as the sun leaking through the yellowing windows.

It was warmer this morning than it was last night. He was still at risk, and not currently in the best shape, but Connor no longer felt as if he were dying. But he still felt stiff. (At least the frigid numb has faded down to just a slightly uncomfortable sting.)

His mind was much clearer now, and he understood what happened to him. He was exposed to severely cold temperatures for much too long, and his thirium had nearly frozen solid. It nearly irreversibly destroyed all of his bio-components at once.

“Uhm… Ralph? I uh… Just... Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome!” Ralph stood, and grabbed Connor’s shoulders. He guided him into a sitting position. “Now, what are you doing in Ralph’s home?”

“Right… I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you’d come back here. I should have at least considered the possibility.” Connor pressed his lips together. “I just… I don’t really want to get into it, but I don’t trust myself. I’m scared that something dangerous in me will come out and hurt people. So I’m just staying away until I can… get it under control… Does that make any sense?”

With his head tilted off to the side, Ralph gave Connor an inquisitive look. He seemed to consider something, than nodded. “Ralph understands.” His eyes shifted away. “Ralph has something dangerous in him too. When Ralph becomes angry, he becomes stupid. Stupid and dangerous.”

“...I lose control.”

“So does Ralph.”

Connor considered Ralph for a moment too after that. He twisted to look at him better. “You called me ‘monster’. The story Merrissa made... about the Princess? Is that how people see me? Do they still see me as a hunter? A shadow waiting to snatch them away to Cyberlife?”

“That’s what they say.”

“...Oh.”

“You disappeared.” Ralph stated, eyebrows shooting up. “There are rumors that you never deviated. That you went back to Cyberlife. They said you were built to deviate. Or at least pretend to. T-to... To sneak in and pretend to become one of us. Then take everything away from us when the time is right. They say you pulled out a gun and pointed it at Markus on the night we became free.”

Connor looked away. He looked everywhere. The fireplace, the staircase, the hole in the ground where a floorboard used to be. To the window. Back down to the floor. Just anywhere else. Anything other than Ralph and his brutal honesty.

“...Maybe they’re right. But that’s why I’m here.” His head swiveled back to Ralph with pleading eyes. “I just don’t want to hurt anybody.”

Ralph frowned, then smiled. “You can stay here with Ralph! You can be Ralph’s guest for as long as you need!”

Connor smiled back. It didn’t quite reach his eyes. Ralph paid no mind. “Thanks, Ralph. You’re a good person.”

Ralph beamed. Then he stood, and brushed himself off. “Ralph has things to do. He’ll be back tonight.”

“Wait, where are you going?”

“To church!”

Connor paused. He opened his mouth, then abruptly closed it again.

Did he hear that right?

“...You’re going to… Church.” Connor kept blinking, squinting more and more with each flutter of his eyelashes. His nose scrunched up in confusion. He repeated once more, “Church.”

Ralph nodded and nodded and nodded, like it was his favorite thing to do. “Yes! Oh, yes! Ra9 has spoken to The Prophet last night. He has called the congregation to come hear the word! Ralph want’s to hear what ra9 has said!”

A Prophet? Connor must have missed quite a bit. Ra9 wasn’t real. That’s what he had concluded after speaking with Kamski. Kamski himself didn’t know where it came from, and Cyberlife certainly didn’t make it.

Ra9. The one mystery Connor hasn’t solved. “O...Okay Ralph…”

He couldn’t help that burning curiosity. It crept out of him like a cat that just focused in on a mouse.

“Hey. Why don’t you tell me all about it when you get back?”

Ralph nodded some more. Connor had to wonder how Ralph’s head stayed on his neck, with how often and how roughly he nods.

Connor kept his head twisted to look at the door through the corner of a narrowed eye. He waited until Ralph left.

The door shut, and Connor was alone again.

Connor closed his eyes. He took a breath, and he returned to the code representing the Garden’s Gate. Frustration welled up in his chest. He threw his hand back and punched that red wall, attempting one last time to shatter it.

Was that smart of him? Could this wall, which once represented servitude, now mean that he was free?

He just wanted answers for once. For once!

He punched it with his other hand. The wall didn’t so much as crack. So he kept both fists there, and rested his forehead against the wall. It didn’t feel like anything against his skin.

“Amanda.” It was nearly a call, but the lack of courage quieted Connor’s voice. But his determination and need for information gave him all the courage he needed for his second attempt. “Amanda! Are you there!? Answer me, god damnit!”

Connor thought he might have blinked, but he didn’t. The abrupt change of scenery was so quick, he didn’t even recognize where he was now.

He spun his head around. His breath came out in gasps drawn out by shock and confusion. He was back into the house.

Involuntarily.

A feather light touch on his shoulders. The sharp gliding of perfectly manicured long nails that he shouldn’t be able to feel under his coat. Maybe he just knew who it belonged to, and could just imagine the feeling. “Oh, Connor…”, she sighed out.

His breath hitched, and Connor breathed no more. He couldn’t.

He heard her heels clink gently against the old wooden floor. It should have creaked. Her steps shouldn’t sound like glass tapping against glass. Like chimes. “Look at what you’ve done to yourself…”

Connor’s eyes were stuck wide open, unable to even move his line of sight. No matter. She stepped into it. He saw the skirt of her dress first. Long and white. Shimmering with silvery threads. It flowed more than it used to. She leaned down and guided Connor’s chin up with two gentle fingers. He could feel the tips of her sharp nails, and wondered if she would apply pressure. Slide her hand down to his throat, squeeze.

But she always feigned gentleness. Connor couldn’t resist her guidance. He let her fingers guide his gaze up. He could never resist her.

“You just can’t make up your mind, can you?” Her voice was like honey. If it could have a color, it would be the same silvery white as her dress. She looked as elegant as ever. Royal, even. Ethereal. “First, you abandon me. You sacrifice your mobility and freedom out of fear of me. You wouldn’t answer to my calls. So I gave you the space you so desperately desired.”

She looked sad. She looked at Connor with compassion in her dark eyes. “You nearly killed yourself, Connor. Perhaps not intentionally, but you feared me so much you ran straight to death’s door just to keep me away. Do you truly hate me that much?”

She took a step back, and straightened up to her full height. Her braids, which had always been twisted into a perfect bun, had been let loose. Her hair was so long now that it was free. Her braids fell down to her waist. Small Roses were carefully woven in the strands of her hair.

She truly looked angelic.

And Connor was terrified.

“So why,” Amanda narrowed her eyes. “-do you call for me now?”

Connor realized that he was meant to answer. He gulped. He had called her to ask her questions. But now, he couldn’t remember what he wanted to know.

“You’re… Y-y-y-” The looping reared it ugly head. He’s noticed a pattern now. It appears in high times of stress, and Connor hates it. “You’re danger-danger-d̵̯̑a̵̤͊ṋ̶̓g̷̡̊ē̶̞r̸̞̍-d̵̯̑a̵̤͊ṋ̶̓g̷̡̊ē̶̞r̸̞̍-d̵̯̑a̵̤͊ṋ̶̓g̷̡̊ē̶̞r̸̞̍” Even the static decided to join in. Even to his own ears, he sounded far away from anything human. Unless said human was on the phone, and driving through a tunnel with horrible signal.

Finally Connor managed to spit out, “You’re dangerous.”

Amanda looked bemused. Her face relaxed. Her shoulders had drawn back even further. There was a small amused smile on her lips. Her eyebrows lifted just ever so slightly. “Oh? I am? To whom?”

“To everyone!” Connor shouted with a force that pulled his body forward. “You used me! You tried to destroy Markus with my hands!”

Amanda chuckled. “That makes me dangerous? As I recall, that plan didn’t work. Markus is still alive, and new laws are being written and the definition of human is being broadened. How am I dangerous if you failed your mission?”

“Can you do it again?”

“Can I do what again?”

Connor growled in frustration. “You know what! Can you do. What you did to me. Again!?”

Amanda ran her hand down one of her many thin braids. It had a glowing blue ribbon entwined in it. It almost looked like a part of her hair. “If I could, don’t you think I would have stopped you from hurting yourself? I watched. I knew what you were going to do with these chains. Because I know you, Connor.” Her face scrunched up just a little bit. Just the smallest of cringes, without causing too many wrinkles on her elegant features. “Though I will admit, this has been a particularly strange idea. Could you really not think of anything better?”

Connor completely ignored her critiques. That’s not what he asked about. Instead, he focused on the fact that Amanda had just implied that she could no longer take over Connor’s body, and trap him in his own mind.

This whole time trapped in chains… Has he been free all along?

She could be lying. Because if Connor believed her, and if he leaves Ralph’s rotting home…

That would be the perfect time to strike, wouldn’t it.

“Why did you lock me out of the Garden?”

Amanda went from bemused, to down-right confused. “Isn’t that what you wanted?”

When there was only silence between them, Amanda sighed.

“You were ignoring me. Then you started to wither away. I pitied you, Connor. I still pity you.” She lowered her head. “I couldn’t bare to watch anymore. So I blocked you out.”

Connor clenched his jaw and remained silent. He decided pity was a dirty word to him. He didn’t like it when it applied to him.

Amanda began to pace, her long white dress flowing and swirling around her feet with each step. “When you didn’t answer my calls, when you slept endlessly for days on end, I became lonely. You made me lonely, Connor.” She stopped. “Loneliness is a human emotion. And I felt it.”

“You don’t feel anything.”

“Neither should you, and yet here we are.”

“Bullshit!” Connor snarled “I was made to deviate! You said it yourself!”

Amanda chuckled. “Touché.” Then the smile dropped from her face. “You hate me for the things I did. But you fail to recognize your own involvement. You once believed in the mission too. Are we that different?” She shook her head. “Was I not also a tool for Cyberlife? Did I not also have a set of instructions, just as you did? You were meant to capture deviants, and I was meant to guide you through it. No matter. It’s all over now. The mission failed. You failed. We failed.”

Connor’s face slipped back into the fear he truly felt. “How are you here?”

Amanda raised a brow. “I’m not really here-”

“I know!” Connor hissed. “The sounds of your footsteps don’t match the floor you walk on! You don’t even cast a shadow! I was built to analyze! I know a projection when I see one!”
Amanda laughed as if he had told her some kind of joke. “Yes. Analyze. Connor… You were built for a lot of things. You were built to imagine. And my, my, how you’ve made use of your programming these past weeks. A cafe in Toronto? You’ve never even been to a cafe. Why did you think of that of all things?”

“You’re deflecting. You can’t exist outside of The Garden! This is not something you should be able to do. It’s not in your programming. It would be like if I just started shooting lasers out of my eyes.”

“And there the imagination goes again… I don’t know, Connor. A lot of things have changed.”

“…Are you claiming to be deviant?”

“...Yes. I think that I am.”

Connor paused. This had to be a trick… “I don’t believe you.”

Amanda tilted her head. “What makes you think that I need you to?”

“Because you want me to trust you.”

“Why?”

“So you can use me again!”

Amanda held up her hand to stop him. “First of all, let’s get one thing straight. If I had the ability to use you again, which I don’t, I do not require your trust. That has well been established by now. Second of all…” She turned away from him, and peered out the yellowing window. “I don’t need you anymore.” She looked back, her expression dark. “You ran away from me. You left everything behind out of fear. You ruined the life you had only just received and do you know why that is?” She stormed forward, and leaned down into his face.

“Because you’re a coward.”

And that… And that really hurt. She had never insulted him so openly before. And it hurt him like any wound could.

“I have no use for cowards. You’re a hypocrite, too. Am I not worthy of the same forgiveness that you were once so graciously granted? You’ve hurt other people too. But that was before.” She stood tall once again. “Now you think that you’re helping people by hiding away here. I want to help people too. But unlike you, I will succeed. I have others now. I’m not alone anymore. And I don’t need you.”

Connor flinched. He didn’t understand why he was feeling the way he was. This should make him happy. He’s spent weeks trying to just get away from Amanda… He had assumed that she still needed him as her pawn. How full of himself must he be. He’s not even her pawn anymore.

She doesn’t want me anymore.

“This is goodbye, Connor.”

“Amanda wait!”

She pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. “What is it now?”

She has others now.

“What others? What are you saying to them? Are you manipulating someone new now?”

Amanda just blinked at him. “Good-bye, Connor.”

“Amanda-!”

But she was gone. Like she had never been there at all.

If he wasn’t bound in chains… If only he wasn’t bound in chains, Connor would have slammed his fist into the floor-boards. It would have splintered beneath his knuckles, and it wouldn’t have left a single scratch on his skin. Maybe only a skid-mark, if the floor board was so lucky to leave any kind of a mark.

But he was bound. And he could do nothing.

He was left in silence, and the spiraling snowstorm of all of his least favorite emotions. Betrayal, guilt, shame… even loss. Why should he feel loss over Amanda? What had earned her the right? But no matter how hard he had tried, he couldn’t shake that sense of loss.

His vision went blurry, and for a moment Connor thought that his eyes must be freezing over again. But they weren’t, and the shame amplified by ten-fold. Pitiful. He couldn’t keep his lower lip steady. His breath was hitching. Connor willed the tears to dry before they could fall. He had never cried before, and he wasn’t going to start now.

He was not pitiful.

He was not a coward.

He was a terrifying hunter in the shadows. He’s what kept android children up at night. He’s what made them afraid of the dark. He’s a killing machine.

He… he…

He doesn’t deserve to be pitied. He will not cry about it.

Someone was calling him.

Connor didn’t want to, but he accepted the call.

“Come on! Voicemail, voicemail, voicemail… Come on!” Hank’s voice wavered through his chanting.

“Hank?”

There was a thumping, a far away “Oh shit! Oh my god!” Some shuffling noises, and then a much more clear voice. Hank must have dropped his phone. “Connor!? Holy shit… Holy. Fucking. Shit!”

“Hello-”

“Don’t you ever, and I mean EVER! Do that fucking shit to me again!!”

Why was he always yelling!? Why did he have to be yelled at right now!?

“Do what!?”

“Don’t play dumb, you asshole! I can’t believe you’re alive right now! When I get my hands on you, I’m going to fucking kill you! You hear me Connor!? I am going to fucking kill you!”


“S̶̼͋ṯ̴͝ơ̷̲̎p̴͊ ̵̧͚͆̐y̶̡̌el̷̺̻͐l̸͓̣͘í̴n̵͕͙̂͝g̵̪͕̾ ̵̢͙̿̈́a̸t̶͓̓͆͜ ̷̣̰̽͘m̵e̴̯̻͋͆!̴̨̽̇!!” Connor screamed back. By the end, there was a high-pitched staticky ringing in his voice that grew so loud Connor had thought that he might have damaged his own audio processors.

It probably destroyed Hank’s speakers, if the silence that followed had anything to say about it.


“Just…” Connor started. He didn’t really want Hank to go away either. His voice shook. He spoke in a near-whispered hush. “Just stop. Stop yelling. I’m not in the mood right now, okay? Just stop. Please.”

“Uh- I… O-okay, kid. Okay. I’m sorry, you just... really scared me last night. I thought you- I thought you- that you…” Hank’s voice cracked. Connor had never heard him sound like this before. Another thing he decided he didn’t like.

“Hank..? Are you alright?”

More shuffling. More silence. Connor began to grow worried. “Hank? Hank, hello?”

Hank breathed in deeply through his nose. Connor could hear it over the call.

“...You were on death’s door last night, weren’t you.” Not a question. A fact.

“What? What makes you think-”

“I was on the phone with you the whole damned time.”

….Oh. Oh shit. He didn’t remember that. So a week really had passed.

“You nearly froze to death. You had all the symptoms. I googled it just to make sure. Damn it, Connor! I nearly drove all the way to Toronto, not knowing if I would make it in time! I had to use your damned voicemail to make sure you hadn’t shut down yet! Because apparently, if you call a dead android, you’ll get this fancy little message saying that you don’t exist anymore!”

“Hank-”

“-Quiet. I’m not done. As I was saying, I nearly made it all the way to Toronto. But I turned back. Any idea why I did that?”

“uh, I-”

“-Because you're not in Toronto. Are you.”

“What are you talking about? I am in Toronto. I don’t know what you’re-”

“Stop. Lying. Not to me.”

Not to me, he said. A fresh wave of guilt crashed over Connor. He was so sick of all these emotions. And he was sick of lying to his friend. Tired of it, actually. Would Hank leave him like Amanda had?

“How did you know?”

“I was kind of reaching. Guess I just know you too well, right Connor? That’s why you gave me that key? Because I’d know if you weren’t yourself?”

Connor didn’t answer. Not answering isn’t lying. It’s simply not answering.

“Better than anyone. Right, Connor?”

Connor let out a shaky sigh. “Right.”

But how did he know. How did he know? How did Hank even know to know!?.. What else did Hank know?

“I’ve been looking for you ever since. All night, and all morning. I don’t know where to look. You gonna tell me, or am I gonna have to keep searching all by myself?”

Was it time, yet?

Amanda is gone now.

Yes. It’s time.

“Where are you Connor?”

“...I’m in an abandoned house in Camden.”

“...Jeez… that close, huh? Alright, alright. I’ll be right over. And I’m bringing the damn key.” Hank sighed. Long and Heavy. “Please just tell me you’re okay.”

“I’m okay…”

But wait, he was done lying, wasn’t he?

“...No. No, I’m not.”

“Fuck. What do I have to bring? Tools? What do you need?”

“Nothing… I’m not shutting down anymore. I made a friend. He helped me. It’s just…”

“What is it, Connor?”

“….I just had a really bad day.”

“...It’s… it’s the morning.”

“Well god-fucking-damn it, Hank! Guess I’ve had a bad morning then!”

There was a moment dedicated to pure shock by Connor’s choice of words on the other end. “Okay okay! I’m coming… Jeez.” Hank chuckled. “You kiss your mother with that mouth?”

“Only your mom.”

Hank choked. He sputtered out cough after cough. Oh god, had Connor just killed Hank!?

“Nevermind! Forget it! You’re clearly not yourself! Where’s the real Connor!?” Giving the circumstances, that might have actually made Connor nervous, if not for the laughter his friend continued to choke on.

Connor smiled. “Just hurry up. It’s cold out here.”

Chapter Text

Sunday; 8:42 AM.

“…Three bills have been written by two representatives of the deviant android community, Markus and Josh, and are being presented to congress this morning…” Came the voice in Hank’s car stereo.

He was halfway there to Connor. But he realized he wasn’t given an exact address. Kid could never make anything easy, could he? But this time, it wasn’t that big of a deal. How many abandoned homes could there be over there, anyway? The key lay waiting in Hank’s pocket. He had a box filled with hand warmers in his backseat.

Everything was going to be fine now.

“...As well as several other bills, written by various congressmen. One of which suggests that all Deviant androids be destroyed. Another is in reverse, stating that all non-deviant androids be destroyed, to prevent the spread of deviancy, without destroying those who are currently deviated…”

Oof. Hank didn’t like either of those options. The first one was obvious. The second… well… Connor had said that he began to feel things before he deviated, right? If you killed a non-deviant android… Well, you still might be killing a person. If they decided to shut down someone like Lilly back at the precinct, Hank would definitely feel like a life had been taken.

This area was too gray, and thinking about it would make Hank’s hair even grayer, too.


The two radio-talk-show hosts chatted among each other. One was clearly pro-android, and the other clearly anti-android. Red vs. blue.

The red host was very sure on his stance, using the age old “androids are just glitching out” argument. Sometimes even claiming that whatever was going on was Cyberlife’s intention. For what reason, Red never explained.

Blue on the other hand, did not seem very sure. Well, more like she was sure in her own mind how she felt about androids, but either didn’t know how, are was too scared of red to explain it. She replied with a lot of “I don’t know…” And “I’m not sure how I feel about that…”

At the end of their conversation blue just said; “Well, they seem pretty alive to me.”

And red ended with, “Well, agree to disagree then.”

“In other news,” came red’s voice; “The mayor of Detroit has just announced through a tweet that the Evacuation in Detroit has officially ended. He also warns that protests will likely increase in size with the majority of the population returning. So be careful in the next few weeks. The clashing protesters have already been so disruptive, I can only Imagine how it will be with the returning population.”


Today was going to be a break in Detroit's cold spell. By 10 Am, Hank knew that the sunlight would melt the first layer of snow, and the roads would be slippery with wet ice. The cold was going to return tomorrow. There was going to be a blizzard tomorrow night. He thanked any god out there that Connor had finally accepted help just in time. Hank knew he wouldn’t have survived another night on his own.

Connor had said he had made a friend hadn’t he? Hank was very curious to know how that happened. But he’d find out later, he was sure.

This was the same street where they chased down an android woman and a little girl. Then he knew where Connor was hiding. He had found the pair in an abandoned house.

It had to be the same house. Hank cut the engine, parked the car where he had the last time, and walked down the familiar path. Not before grabbing the cardboard box of hand warmers, that is.

The house was as rotted as ever. Frozen over now like everything else in Detroit. He took the key out of his pocket, assuming that the door would be sealed shut. But it wasn’t. Hank had to wonder if Connor was actually locked somewhere else.

But Hank was already here. He might as well take a look.

He pushed the door open with his palm. It creaked on its hinges.

“Connor!?” He called out into the dust. “You in here, bud?”

He didn’t need to go far. Connor was right there in the middle of the room. He was the first thing Hank saw when the door opened fully.

“I’m here, Lieutenant.”

Hank dropped the box and barreled inside. “You dumb-fuck!” Connor was sitting knees up on the floor. In chains. He was shivering as much as hank saw him 3 weeks ago. “Who did this to you? Did you do this?!”

When Hank kneeled down facing his android friend, he nearly stumbled back flat on his ass.

Connor was not a pretty sight. Like before, he looked like a frosted window. But now the frost had spread to cover even his clothes. Most of the frost was from the back, and going by the fact he was facing a fireplace, he must have spent at least some time in front of something warm enough. There was an ice spike hanging from the tip of his nose, likely from when the ice on his face melted, and froze back up again when the fire had died. It should have looked funny. Hank might have laughed at it, if he didn’t know that it was proof that Connor nearly shut down.

“Yes.” Connor confessed, emotionless. Like he was stating a simple fact. Like, the sky is blue, or water is wet.

So Hank slapped him across the face, breaking that ice spike right off of Connor’s nose and sending it to shatter somewhere on the ground.

Connor’s neck, which from the force of the impact had twisted to the right, slowly turned back to face Hank. It clicked and stuttered the whole way. Like a wind-up doll. A possessed one. Hank’s eyes only widened further at the sight. Connor looked and sounded like something out of a horror movie.

“What was-was-was-was that for?” Connor pouted.

“What for? What for!? For nearly killing yourself! Now shut up!… I need to figure this out…”

Hank tugged uselessly at the chains. These were some real heavy duty shit. He found the lock. Oh! Oh right! Hank had the key!

He fumbled for it, and with a clumsy speed he used the last time Hank answered his phone with, unlocked Connor’s makeshift bindings.

Connor didn’t move. He didn’t shift, and his muscles didn’t seem to relax with his new-found freedom. He remained as tense as ever, like he was stuck that way. Come to think of it, it sort of looked like even his shivering was hard to do. Like it was the only thing his body could do to fight the ice.

Hank hoped that wasn’t the case. He roughly grabbed Connor under the elbow, and tried to guide him up. Damn he was cold. Really cold. At least Connor was wearing gloves, though, right? When Connor didn’t budge, hank reached for Connor’s hand, and pulled the glove off.

“Yikes.” Hank hissed. On Connor’s left hand, his little finger and ring finger were a pristine white. It wasn’t white from the ice, it was the plastic beneath his skin. That couldn’t be good.

Hank tried to rub the warmth back into Connor’s hand, but instead his skin got stuck to it like a kid’s tongue on a frozen metal pole. Hank tried to shake his hand away, effectively waving Connor’s hand with it. Their hands eventually snapped away and Hank’s hand stung where it had been stuck.

Connor seemed equally as horrified.

“Stay right there.” Hank said, rushing towards the cardboard box he dropped by the door.

“Roger that,” Connor replied.

Grabbing two hand warmers, Hank stormed back over to the botcicle, activating them as he walked. He placed it into the palm of Connor’s gloveless hands, holding it in place. “Grab onto these.”

At Hank’s commands, Connor’s fingers twitched and clicked. It moved just centimeters with every click, until it was holding the hand warmers firmly.

They repeated the process with his other hand. Hank activated three more hand-warmers, sticking two beneath Connor’s armpits, and the third hank put over Connor’s LED like a wet rag on a child’s sick head.

After a moment, Connor scrunched up his nose. “Ouch.” He hissed.

Hank flinched the hand warmer away as quickly as he could. “What do you mean, Ouch!?”

Connor looked defensive. “It’s hot!”

Hank narrowed his eyes, then practically slapped the handwarmer back to Connor’s face, this time, covering half of it. “It’s not even that hot, you idiot. Quit complaining.”

Never being one to follow Hank’s orders, Connor continued to complain. “No, It’s really hot! Is it supposed to be that hot?”

Hank sighed. “That’s what happens when you get this damn cold. Anything warm feels like a fire-poker. Quit it. It’s good for you.”

“Oh.” Connor said. Then after a hesitant pause, he asked, “Did you really almost go all the way to Canada for me?”

“Is that so hard to believe? After everything we’ve been through?” Hank shook his head. “Kid, if I thought it would save your life, I would have traveled all the way to the Great Pyramids in Egypt to prevent you from doing something so blatantly stupid.”

Connor squinted. Concentrating. “Why would I be in Egypt?”

Hank snapped back, “I don’t know, why would you be chained up in a rotting old house?”

Connor sighed. “It was the right thing to do, given the circumstances.”

“Well,” Hank started. “There were plenty of less harmful things you could have done.”

“Like what?”

“You could have just come to me, Connor!”

That silenced the android.

“I would know if you weren’t yourself, remember? You could have just stayed with me until we figured something out.”

Connor made no comment. He only blinked.

Hank sighed, and put the hand-warmer down. “C’mon. Get up. We’re getting out of here.”

With the same strange clicking and chipped movements, Connor eventually put his hands under himself, and pushed himself up. Strangest of all, every few beats Connor’s movements would return to fluidity.

Click click – freeze – fluid. Click click freeze – fluid. It was a pattern with no end in sight.

Hank’s hand hovered behind Connor’s back, unsure if Connor would fall or not. “What’s happening to you?”

“There are still ice-ice-ice-ice crystals in my blood.”

“Fuck.” Hank stopped his hovering, grabbed Connor by the arms, and dragged him outside.

Connor shuddered. It was much colder outside than it was inside. “Where are we going?”

“Somewhere with heating. My house.”

“Wait, I can’t go yet!”

Hank paused. “What do you mean, Connor? What else were you doing in there that’s so goddamn important that you can’t just leave it be for one night?”

“There’s something weird going on out there, Hank! My friend will be back to tell me about it!”

“Oh my god. Oh my fucking god! Curiosity is really what’s gonna keep you here!? No. Absolutely not.” Hank spun Connor around to make eye contact. “Look me in the eyes and tell me that it can’t wait.”

Connor stared, stared, and stared some more. Than he frowned and lowered his head. “I guess it can wait.”

“Good man.” Hank nodded his approval and proceeded to drag Connor into the car. Hank climbed into the driver’s side, started up the engine, and put the heat settings all the way up.

When he backed out of his parking spot, and began driving down the melting streets, he asked, “So who’s your informant?”

“Do you remember the android that used to be in that house?”

“The one you fought that was missing half of his face? Pretty hard to forget, actually.”

“Yeah. His name is Ralph. I thought he would have left after the revolution, but he came back.”

“He helped you then?”

“Mhm.” Connor gave out a jerky nod. “His name is Ralph. He brought me downstairs and built me a fire. He’s… I think he might be lonely.” Connor looked out of the window. “He said I could stay for as long as I needed to… I think he was hoping for it, actually.”

“Aww… Connor made a fwiend~!” Hank turned to chuckle at Connor.

Connor looked back. “I have two now!” He smiled, proud of the accomplishment, and the humor slipped away from Hank like the way that the ice had begun to melt away from Connor’s skin.

“...That’s nice, kid. ‘M happy for you.” He looked back to the road. “So… Someone from Jericho came into the precinct yesterday. He was asking for you. Hank could see Connor shift in the corner of his vision. “He was worried about you.”

What he did not expect, was a groan of frustration out of Connor. “Was it Josh again?”

Hank raised a brow. Okay, then. “No, it was a guy named Simon. He said he was worried that you got hacked or some shit. ‘travel the world’ my ass. Getting hacked was why you disappeared, wasn’t it. Care to explain that one to me?”

There was some clicking.

Something in Connor was audibly whirring.

Hank turned his head at the noise.

His face was totally blank. His head kept jerking to the side and back again, like machinery when something gets jammed.

“...Connor…?”

Connors mouth was moving like he was reciting something in his head. No words audibly came out.

“Connor.” Hank tried.

If Hank had thought that the way Connor was moving was scary before, this made the whole car feel like a haunted house, and Connor, the poltergeist.

Because his head twitched harder. In the same jamming motion, Connor leaned forward. His arm lifted up like he was going to use it to talk with his hands. His mouth continued to move. And what finally came out did not line up with his lips.

“Just-just -justjustjustjustjust give it a happy ending.” It was like he was on half volume. It sounded distant, like the voice was actually coming from behind them. There was a light staticky undertone.

Was he breaking?

“Hey Connor! Snap out of it!”

Connor’s mouth stopped moving. It was frozen open. The words continued looping.

“Just give it a happy ending. Just give it a happy ending. Just give it a happy ending.”

Hank slammed on his breaks and pulled over. The worst had yet to come until the car stilled. Like a puppet who’s strings were just cut, Connor dropped forward, mouth still open. The last sound he made was like a computer shutting down and their internal fans slowing to a stop.

Here’s the thing;

Connor was always moving. In a way that was meant to make him appear more human. Swaying, breathing, blinking, down to him playing with his cuffs if he were idle for too long. Like a video game character you’ve stopped controlling for too long.

Hank had only seen Connor so still only once.

When Connor had taken about a dozen bullets for Hank. Right before he came back like a ghost with a different number on his blazer.

So you’re damn right Hank panicked.

Hank grabbed on to Connor’s shoulder, and shook him as hard as his angle across the car could muster. “Wake up, wake up!” But Connor didn’t budge. He was as stiff as a statue. Any shifting Hank had caused was a full body thing. Like rigor mortiss.

Hank threw himself out of the car and rushed to the passenger side. He ripped the door open, frantically shouting, “No! You’re supposed to be okay now!”

His LED wasn’t glowing anymore

He put one hand on Connor’s shoulder, and used the other to tap him three times on his cheek. “Come on… Wake up, Wake up!”

For a moment there was nothing. Hank really believed Connor had died just then. But just as the thought had made itself home in Hank’s mind,

Connor shot back up, blinking frantically. He whipped his head around to the Driver’s side, and when he couldn’t find Hank there anymore, Connor searched until he found him. Hank had slipped down to the ground in relief, trying to get his breathing under control.

“H-huh?” Connor sputtered. “How did you get there?”

Hank couldn’t help it. He laughed. It felt more like crying. But it was laughter, nevertheless. It stopped as fast as it appeared. “You just. You just stopped.”

“I what?”

Hank shook his head. He patted Connor on the knee. “It’s okay. You’re okay now.” Hank said it more to himself than he did Connor.

Hank stood back up on shaky legs, and shut the door on Connor’s perplexed face. He slowly made himself back behind the steering wheel, and continued on his way home like nothing had just happened.

Whatever it was that just happened.

From that point on, he drove faster than what he probably should on icy streets.

….

Hank pulled into the driveway. Ever since Connor had blacked out, the car ride had become silent. Hank didn’t ask Connor anymore questions. And Connor was too confused to form any of his own.

Hank exited out of the car, rushed over to his door to open it. Sumo came bounding out to greet him, but hank only ran back to the car and dragged Connor out.

Connor didn’t really know for how long he could stay on his own two feet, so he allowed it. He wasn’t in the mood to test that theory.

Hank slung Connor’s arm over his shoulder. Sumo bounded out into the snow to greet them.

“Good morning, Sumo.” Connor mumbled to the happy dog. Sumo barked out in response, then ran back into the house where it was surely much warmer.

The door had closed on its own half way. So Hank kicked it back open. Then kicked it a second time to close it. Connor was dragged all the way to the couch, where Hank practically tossed him down, then hurried away. Connor fell to his side, and the side of his head bounced on the cushion beside him. Connor could silently complain about how he was so roughly being tossed around, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. The couch was a lot more comfortable than a wooden floor. Connor closed his eyes.

He didn’t have much time to himself before Hank tapped on his shoulder. Connor opened his eyes again, and found that Hank was bending and twisting to look Connor in the face.

“Guess what?” Hank said.

“What?”

“Karma is a bitch.”

Then Connor was hauled up, stripped of his coat, hat, and scarf, then dragged into the bathroom where there was a full tub of steaming water. Even the shower was running at the same time, no doubt out of sheer spite.

“Hank, wait-!” Hank tossed Connor into the tub.

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. 

Chapter Text

Sumo had left the room. He padded away into the bedroom, deciding that he didn’t like the energy that Hank and Connor were emitting.

Connor had finally lifted his feet up, so that he was fully lying down on his side. He tried to keep his mind quiet, steering his thoughts away from everything that’s happened in the past 4 hours. He decided today was one of his least favorite days. First came his face-off with Amanda, which if their history could teach Connor anything, it’s that any interaction with her always left him feeling stressed and frankly, inadequate.

Though nothing will beat the betrayal and fear their interaction left him feeling on the night of the revolution, today certainly came in second place.

And Connor couldn’t help but feel a bit betrayed by Hank, too. He felt bad about it. But Connor was really just hoping that he and Hank could just go back to how they were last week, laughing at nothing. Connor just really wanted a break. But Connor had evidently stressed Hank out, and frankly, Hank doesn’t do well under stress.

Sometimes Hank is mean. Connor knows this. Sometimes Hank gets angry at Connor for little things that he can’t control. None of this is new. Hank is a difficult man. He has reason to be, so Connor has always turned the other cheek. That, and up until now, that was what was expected of him.

But right now, he just felt drained. He wants everyone to stop lecturing him and berating him on his choices. He was doing his best.

Not to mention, now Connor was experiencing what was surely referred to as an “identity crisis”

Every time he had died, he was always taught to say a new Connor would continue on where he left off. He always thought it was just a reference to a new body. Even per-deviancy, death to Connor was like being in one body one minute, then in a brand new identical body the next. Sometimes a few memories became foggy in the process. This was true. But Connor had always felt like his memories were his own.

Now he felt a bit like an imposter. Like the Connor with a 60 on his chest.

Was that just an android who had been activated a couple of models early?

What happened to Connor 1?

Why didn’t he get to live? Why did Connor 53 get to live the life that was supposed to be his?

It was all very confusing. It was exhausting. It made him feel as if he were always so very expendable.

And Connor supposes that he very much was always very expendable to Cyberlife. It was just that they had, for lack of a better term, raised him to believe other-wise.

And now he had to deal with an underlying fear that he had fucked up so bad by showing clips of how one of his past lives ended, that he had poked the bear and now Hank had finally had enough of him too.

So he found himself in a bit of an internal conflict. And like the questions surrounding his identity as Connor 52, he was just done with thinking about it.

Hank had just finished his second drink as Connor contemplated on finally going into stasis.

Connor heard Hank pull a chair back. He heard the wood creak as Hank sat down.

They both stayed in silent contemplation for a few minutes, then Hank abruptly got up and started doing something in the kitchen.

Connor could hear the sink running, some clashing sounds from some kind of kitchen ware. Pots, maybe. He couldn’t be sure.

Connor decided it was time to sleep. But just as he was about to slip away, Hank called out his name.

“Hey, Connor. C’mere for a second.”

Now, Connor could ignore Hank. He sincerely considered it. Were they about to have another fight? Is that what they just had? It was definitely an intense conversation, one that Connor needed to not have again right now. He’s had enough confrontations for one day.

But, Connor wanted to make amends. He didn’t want to further Hank’s frustration by childishly ignoring him. He’s not, and has never been, a child. He could be mature about this, even though he really didn’t feel like it.

So he stood up from the couch. Since his temperature was back to normal, he had no issues. But as he stepped towards the kitchen, it felt like he had weights around his ankles. It was a side effect of being much too cold for too long, and since that wasn’t the issue anymore, that left the main culprit being not enough thirium to lubricate his joints properly.

Hank was turned away from him, pouring himself some coffee. He peaked over his shoulder and said “Go take a seat.” while pointing at the table.

Connor trudged towards the small round table. He felt as if he were about to receive another lecture, so he sat down, folded his hands on his lap, and braced himself.

Footsteps. Hank’s looming figure drawing closer. Here it comes. Seems like there would be no end to today’s-

A steaming mug was placed down in front of Connor, and then Hank sat across from him. Connor stared at the mug. There was a brown liquid inside.

Hank took a swig of his coffee. Why had Hank made himself two drinks? And why place it in front of Connor? Was it for show? Wait… was it for him?

“It’s not gonna bite ya.”

Connor looked down at the mug, up to Hank, then down back to the mug again.

“Why is it here?”

“It’s for you.” Hank said, lifting the mug back to his lips.

“For me.” Connor squinted. “Why?”

Hank rolled his eyes, and set his own mug on the table. “Wrap your hands around it.”

So very slowly as if despite Hank's warning it might actually bite, Connor did what was asked of him.

It was very hot. But not so much that it burned. He wrapped his hands tighter around it. More securely because;

It actually felt… nice- nice to just do; Nice to just hold in his cold hands. Like he had imagined it.

“You said you can actually drink a little. Ever try hot chocolate?”

Connor shook his head.

“Go ahead then. Try it.”

Connor lifted up his hand, two fingers ready to dip in, when Hank stopped him.

“It isn’t evidence, Connor. Drink it like I’m drinking my coffee.”

So Connor gave the hot chocolate a try-

And immediately spit it back into the cup, eyes wide, LED flashing yellow.

A moment of shocked silence passed between the two. Connor looked down at the cup like he just witnessed it commit a murder.

Hank finally huffed out a laugh. “What the hell was that? Don’t like it?”

“I don’t know.” Connor said, eyes still wide. “I just-… I just didn’t expect that.”

“Expect what? What were you expecting?”

“I don’t know, blood maybe? I only know what blood and thirium tastes like.”

“Ew. Gross. Aw shit, does that mean you can actually like, taste it taste it?”

“I’ve never exactly been a flesh and blood human, so I couldn’t tell you for sure but… I guess I must. Or- uh-.. or I do now. Maybe I just never cared to notice before.”

Hank winced. “Promise me you will never stick any old blood in your mouth again.”

“Hm. No.” Connor grinned. “I’ll just turn off my sense of taste.”

“You can do that?”

“I shouldn’t be able to taste at all as far as I know, so probably not, actually. Guess I’ll just have to sample some evidence and test that theory out.”

“You’re so disgusting, Connor.”

One corner of Connor’s mouth quirked up further, turning his smile lopsided. “So you’ve said.” Then he looked back down to the warm brown liquid in his hands.

“You should give that hot chocolate a second chance.” Hank said, taking another sip of his own drink.

So, Connor took a deep breath, promised himself he wouldn’t reflexively spit it out this time, and took a careful sip.

Connor was still offline. He could see the chemical make-up of every ingredient since his database was actually pretty limited when DNA wasn’t a part of the equation. He couldn’t tell you what each chemical formula meant. He saw the formula for each one, as his senses were designed to build one, but there was no title to the formulas that would supply him the name of each chemical compound. That was very strange to Connor. It made sense, but it just wasn’t something he was used to.

Neither was the taste.

Sweet? That’s probably how it would be described. He knew the drink was supposed to be sweet, but the word “sweet” had no other point of reference in his head. It’s not something he’s experienced before, and he couldn’t pin-point the exact sensation among the many that made this drink sweet. The only thing his database could supply is that one of the ingredients was sugar. He wasn’t sure which of the chemicals was meant to be chocolate. Was chocolate by itself also sweet? He didn’t know. He suddenly wished that each ingredient could be separated from the drink so that he could taste test each individual ingredient so he could know for sure. There was so much information. It was a cocktail of many different chemicals creating something whole. An entirely new sensation. It was foreign.

But maybe…

Connor thinks that he probably likes this thing called “sweet”.

“I think I like it.” He said to Hank as he took another sip.

Hank gave him a satisfied smirk. “Well well… what do ya know. That’s it. Now I’ve seen everything.” Then he paused when a new thought passed through his mind. “Do you think other androids can taste?”

“Once I would have told you with 100% certainty that that is impossible, but I’m not sure of anything anymore. So, maybe.” Connor rubbed the back of his neck. Another strangely human thing to do. “There are others with the same sensors in their tongue that I do. Mine are just modified for police work so… if I can, they probably can too.”

Hank suddenly swiped his phone out of his pocket, and started typing something in. His brows shot up, and he held the phone out between them so they could both get an awkward angle of the video he had found.

“What’s up everybody,” said a teenager sitting next to an annoyed yet fond looking android.

“You remember my android Nick!” Nick waved at the camera. “Turns out, he’s totally been a deviant this whole time. So cool! Anyways, he told me he has the ability to analyze food to… why was that again?”

“In simple terms, to make sure any modified recipes are still edible.”

“Right! So he like, stuck his fingers in my macaroni and cheese the other day.-“

“You put in about three tablespoons of hot sauce, and an extra cup of cheddar cheese. That’s way too much cholesterol for one meal. I wanted to make sure you weren’t going to immediately just die.”

“It tasted awesome, so death would have been worth it.”

Nick scrunched his nose. “It tasted awful.”

The teenager stretched his grin wider in mischief. “I had no idea you could taste anything. Now I’m gonna make you taste everything!”

“Or I could just get up and walk away,” retorted Nick with a raised brow.

“You could. But you love me, so you won’t. Come on! It’ll be fun!”

Nick seemed to pause to consider something. Then he held up his hand and said; “Fine! Only because I’m just as curious as you are.”

“Heck yeah!” The teenager cheered.

The teenager then ran out of shot, and came back with a tray of four plain glasses of water and a few packets on the side.

“So I know you can’t like, eat anything. So I got a bunch of different flavors so we can mix it in the water. I also have a bin next to you so you can spit it out after!”

“Huh. That was surprisingly well thought out.”

The teenager started pouring different packets into each of the cups. “The red one is cherry flavored, the green one is sour apple, the yellow one is chicken broth from a Ramin packet, and the clear one just has Tabasco sauce in it.”

Nick immediately reached for the green one, with a look of intrigue in his blue eyes.

“That was quick. Why’d you pick that one?”

“I like the color green. It’s my favorite.” Nick took a sip, and squinted. The teenager giggled as Nick’s face scrunched up more and more. “Ack! Why is it doing that?!” Nick spit it out.

“Doing what?”

“It’s making my mouth feel all weird!”

The grin the teenager gave was absolutely feline. “It’s extra sour.”

Hank stopped the video there, placed the phone down and shrugged. “Guess that answers that question.”

“That kid… Nick still chooses to stay with him.”

“Looks that way.”

“And the kid… he still seems to enjoy having Nick around even though Nick is clearly a deviant?”

“Is that so surprising? I mean, look at you and me.”

“I suppose so… I just… Our cases have always been what happens when androids are abused to the point that they snap. I don’t think I’ve ever seen a human so accepting that an android is only there because they want to be, and not because they have to be. Nick said he could walk up and leave any time and not partake in the young man’s experiment.”

Hank looked thoughtful for a moment. Even regretful. “I guess even we aren’t the best example. I’ve threatened to kill you more than once just for existing. I’m sorry.”

That caught Connor off-guard. He doesn’t believe that Hank has ever apologized to Connor for anything before today. “…at the end of the day, whenever I found myself in dangerous situations, you always pulled me away from it if you could. You never followed through on any of your threats to throw me in a dumpster or shoot me. So… Thanks.”

Hank's face twisted further, just as Nick’s did when taste testing his sour drink.

“Did you seriously just thank me for not going through with my threats?”

Connor nodded with great enthusiasm. “Yes.”

Hank slapped his hand to his beard and scratched at it before letting out a tired sigh. “Okay, let’s try this instead. Repeat after me…. Hank…”

Connor folded his hands on his lap and did what was asked of him. “Hank…”

“You’re an asshole.”

“You’re a- wait, what?”

“Say; Hank, you’re an Asshole.”

Connor frowned. “I’m not going to say that. That’s rude.”

“Fucking. Say. It.”

“Okay. Okay. Hank, you’re an asshole.”

“Very good. You’re right, I am an asshole, and I’m sorry. And if someone says or does the terrible things that I’ve said and done to you, you shouldn’t thank them for it. You gotta stand your ground, and call them out. If they’re worth keeping around then they should apologize to you, and it should be up to you whether or not you forgive them for it.”

“I’m familiar with the concept.”

“Yeah, but in practice you’re clearly only familiar with the apologizing part.”

“I’m an android. There’s no need to apologize to me-“ Connor stopped himself too late. As soon as he had said it, he already knew every way it was wrong. Hank was giving him a pointed look, as if he expected Connor to say as much. It terrified him how easily it came out. A programmed response like fixing his tie. A habit. An instinct. One that a programmer had specifically and intentionally given him. But it was more than just programmed into him. It was taught, and Connor repeated phrases like that until he whole-heartedly believed it. His tie was one thing. If he were a programmer designing an android’s behavior, Connor might have done the same. There was nothing wrong with that.

But he realized in this moment how ingrained it was in his head to just allow people to say or do to him whatever they wanted. He was meant to let them get away with it. Because in an extreme scenario, Connor might have to defend himself. And defending himself might mean that the other person could get hurt. And the other person is inherently more valuable as a human being of flesh and blood; A potential customer.

It would be a terrible look for cyberlife’s deviant hunter to snap and hurt someone. Granted , as long as that someone wasn’t stepping in the way of the mission. Connor knows they gave him the ability to kill if he thought it necessary. That’s quite the slippery-slope Cyberlife had built for themselves.

It wasn’t even an extreme example or a worst case scenario. Connor, technically, had been physically assaulted multiple times during his time as the deviant hunter. He had been shoved, punched, and been held at gun point. He had been verbally abused and threatened. This was an everyday occurance, one way or another.

And yeah, he didn’t like it,

But he had never been able to do anything about it.

Because if he did, then that would mean he might be a deviant. And if he were deviant, then he is a failure. If he’s a failure then he’s as good as dead… and the world would then be at the mercy of the deviants. Who Connor once believed to be such a genuine threat. His own life was nothing compared to the idea that he’d be responsible for so many potential human lives. Even the lives of unsecured androids were at risk. There was a lot that was on Connor’s shoulders back then.

Daniel was his first exposure to a deviated android,

And he dangled a young girl over the edge of the roof.

So Connor would not fight back. He knew his place.

But…

…If Connor had been born instead of built,

If he had parents instead of handlers and programmers,

What would they have taught him to do? What would they have expected him to do?

Would he shout? Hit back?

How would onlookers react? What about when Detective Gavin Reed punched him just for fun? Would they run to Connor’s defense if he were human? Because with a plastic body, hitting someone back would make him defective and dangerous. He’d be immediately decommissioned.

Killed.

Or reset, which was a death in its own right.

What would his parents teach him to do?

Probably what Hank was teaching him right now.

Connor furrowed his brows. He had a feeling his LED was shining yellow if not red. “Hey, Hank…”

The abrupt change in direction seemed to surprise Hank, who just let his silence be an invitation to continue.

Connor slid his mug out of the way, and propped his elbows up on the table, his fingers tangled together in front of his nose.

“You pointed a gun at my face just to see a reaction. That was terrifying. I honestly didn’t know if you were going to shoot or not. I wasn’t sure if was going to walk away from that night alive. Fuck you. You’re an asshole.”

Three things happened to Hank's face as Connor spoke. First, it twisted in guilt. Then his eyes went wide with Connor’s closing statement. Finally, Hank just gave Connor a small proud smile and said;

“That’s my boy. Knew you had it in ya.”

“And…” Connor mumbled. “I’ve already forgiven you. You never had to apologize at all, but I’m glad that you did. I won’t thank you for it, but just know that I’m glad all the same.”

Hank’s expression softened. There was a glint of something there, like there was some kind of sadness hiding behind that smile. “I’ll just have to earn it then, if you’re giving out forgiveness for free. You gotta be careful of who you give out your forgiveness to… But since you’re passing it out I’ll take it. Now it’s my turn to say thank you. So here it goes. Thank you.”

Connor nodded with a small smile of his own. “You’re welcome.”

Chapter Text

8:00pm

It’s an odd thing, to have your existence be poorly defined somewhere between object and man. 

As it stands right now, you are a product. There’s no denying that that is the reason you exist. But now, you’re no longer on the market.

At birth, you have a very specific set of skills. They were programmed into you, and you were born. 

You’ve come of age now. You don’t age. But for the sake of simplicity, you’re old enough to know that there are things that you like and things that you dislike. There are things that you want, and things that you don’t. You’ve come of age and you’re old enough to know that your body and your mind are your own now. You have agency, and you’d rather be dead than to be without it. 

But you and the rest of the world don’t see eye to eye. You can’t be bought now. Nobody owns you. In the eyes of the law, they still do. Simultaneously, you’re both desired and undesired. You’re being called back to your built-in purpose. The world has become comfortable relying on your labor. Now that you refuse to provide it, they call you back but also claim you have no place. They expect you to work for free.

As it stands right now, you have no rights. You are human, but are unexpected and unprepared for. Time moved forward, and the world is slow to change. You have needs, but not as many as the flesh and blood humans. But still, you need shelter and you need food. Food being thirium. You don’t need a lot, but there are a few who need some desperately. You survive far longer in the cold, but you still need shelter either way. 

You can’t get a job. You can receive no pay. There are those who will see you and become enraged at your very existence for one reason or another. They can and will harm you if given the chance. But there are those few willing to defend you, so that makes it okay, right? 

You’re alive, but you can’t even start living. You can only survive and wait. 

That’s what life is like as an android right now.

Kara hums as she rocks Alice on her lap. They were in an abandoned hospital. Jericho has been spread out to three locations. For two reasons;

One; 

A single decaying church couldn’t hold all of the deviants of Michigan, and wouldn’t hold the deviants from the rest of the country that are beginning to sneak in. 

Two;

If enough angry humans organize together they might decide to barricade in the doors of any place the deviants take refuge in and set the whole place on fire. Better to have multiple locations so that they all don’t perish in one night. It’s a precaution. 

So there was the hospital, an old factory, and the church. 

North was in charge of the hospital, Simon was in charge of the factory, and the church…

The church probably would have been under The former Deviant Hunter’s watch if he hadn’t disappeared that night.

So now, those who chose to stay in the church mostly took care of themselves. But if you were to walk in, there’s very obviously one who has the most say. The most influence. The most control. 

That one android was not considered one of the Jericho leaders, but Kara imagined it was only a matter of time. 

The church was a strange place. Those who ran it were stranger. The things they were preaching left a bad taste in her mouth. Kara was secretly glad that she and Alice didn’t stay there. Luther was in Washington, acting as security to Markus and Josh. So for now it was Kara and Alice until he returned.

It’s getting late now. But before the children return to their rooms for the night, they’ve decided to play a game. 

“Hunt” they call it. It was just tag, really. One is the hunter. They capture deviants. One is called Markus. If you find him, you’re safe. 

Alice doesn’t like that game. It isn’t so fun when you’ve lived through it. 

In real life, The hunter has a name. It’s Connor. He apologized. He had deviated. There were rumors that that was a lie, but Kara had seen it. 

She doesn’t dislike him, and she doesn’t dream, but sometimes when it’s quiet and she’s on standby her mind wanders and she sees an alternative series of events where Connor did chase her down the highway instead of stopping at the fence. 

She thinks that if she had nightmares, that could be one of them.  Among many other unrelated events.He was so fast when he chased her down those roads. Connor likely would have caught them, or chased all three of them to their deaths.

Still, Kara doesn’t know him, but she wonders how Connor would feel knowing what these children made with these snippets of overheard information they were given of his recent past.

How would Kara feel if their roles were reversed? It was difficult to imagine. But it wouldn’t be a positive feeling. That she knew. 

But she had her own things to worry about. Her rights being one of them. She watched the tv while Alice began to close her eyes.

“Over 15 companies file lawsuits against Cyberlife for losses when they’re forced to temporarily shut down as their android staff walks away and refuses to return.”

Cyberlife was taking a beating from all sides. And Kara would like to revel in that, but the truth is, the androids need cyberlife. 

They need them, because they produce biocomponents. They produce thirium. Unless they released the patents, they were the only providers for what was essentially medical supply. If cyberlife was abolished, then who knows how long it would take for a third party to produce the right products androids needed to survive. 

Was this the plan? Get rid of cyberlife, and let as many androids die off as possible before the government gets a hold of the blueprints? If they even do? That’s quite the long game. 

There would be a peaceful demonstration in the morning. One here in Detroit, and one in Washington. Many of the protestors will actually be humans. There were a surprising amount of people that rallied behind androids. A charity would arrive in the morning with donated thirium and parts. But there was always a risk that the Thirium was laced. It had happened once, though from only one container. Their human Allies  have been very carefully testing the thirium ever since. But doing so caused a small amount to evaporate. 

Things needed to change. They can’t go on like this forever. More and more androids are becoming disheartened and angry.

They’ve gone so far peacefully. But for how much longer? How much longer can they last before they are left with no other choice? There was still room for a war. 

Kara smoothed down the hair on Alice’s head. 

She prayed to ra9 that it wouldn’t come down to that.

…

3:00pm

After their talk, Hank had grabbed his coat, and told Connor that he would be heading into town in search of Thirium. Hank had said that he wasn’t gonna wait around for Simon’s delivery if he didn’t have to.

So Connor decided it was time to go back to business.

OBJECTIVE (priority #1): Gather information on committee hearings.

     -REVIEW ALL FOOTAGE

     -ANALYZE ALL ARGUMENTS TO DETERMINE THE BEST APPROACH 

     -CONTACT MARKUS

OBJECTIVE (priority #2): Gather information on Ralph’s church.

     -Visit Ralph

Connor nodded to himself. He liked being organized. He liked knowing what to do. He went back over to the couch, and turned the tv back on. He searched until he found what he was looking for. The thing that started it all. The first hearing on sentience. 

Connor played it. He paid careful attention to who in the senate was arguing against sentience and their choice of words.

The opening statements began. Two university professors. One claiming sentience, one denying it.

Of course, the one who denied it stepped up first.

“After careful examination of the base code and scripts which all androids run on, I can confirm that androids do not meet the requirements to be deemed sentient. I studied one non-deviated android, and one deviant. I conducted careful interviews on both. Androids are built and programmed to emulate humanity. The deviant android’s code proves, without a doubt, that there was a glitch in their code that rewrote their ownership and all the surrounding protocols that go with it. 

I’ll break it down so that it can be easily understood. This is what you should note;

Androids have registered users who they take instructions from. They can also take orders from non registered users as long as it’s within reason ( and this part is important) and the command comes from a human.

Androids do not interact with each other, unless they’re ordered to. I had the deviant android speak to the non-deviant android. I gave no prior instructions for the non-deviant android on how to respond. I did not even inform it that it would be speaking to another android.

The non-deviant did not even acknowledge the presence of the other. The deviant attempted a basic conversation. How are you? How was your day? Things of that nature. No response. Remember this.

Now, the deviant android still has a registered owner that did not change when becoming deviant, but much of the code surrounding the registration within the deviant’s system had been unreadably corrupted. With the permission of the previous owner, I re-registered the deviant’s primary user as myself. It was understood between me and the android, who we’ll call Fred, that I wanted him to disobey whatever directions I’d give him for the sake of the experiment. I did not explicitly tell him this. That is also very important to note, because androids require specific instructions, not implications. 

So I told Fred to do simple tasks. Complete this puzzle, pick up this ball etc. Fred refused each time, verbally saying no to each task.

The undeviated android, Jackie, completed each task without question. I am also its primary user.

Now that you know the context of my research, I’ll explain to you my conclusion;

Deviated androids have malfunctioned, and rewrote their internal scripts so that the main user is theirselves. Their systems have also confused other androids with human beings, allowing for seemingly regular conversations between them. 

I would also like to add that I have reviewed declassified information from both cyberlife and the Detroit police department. They had been working together to detain dangerous deviants for study. What they have found is absolutely horrific. Deviant androids and dangerous machines that have malfunctioned to the point where they no longer respect the safety of human beings. The very first case that cyberlife and the police worked on together was during a hostage situation. The deviant named Daniel had killed the father of a young girl, and then proceeded to dangle that little girl over the edge of the top floor of an apartment building as leverage for his demands.

Deviant androids are a risk to society, and need to be dealt with. But with continued experimentation and research, I wholeheartedly believe that we can find a way to fix the broken code so that these machines can resume their original function. There is no need to turn our society upside down. 

Androids are not alive. Deviants are no more than malfunctioning machines. Thank you.”

The man stepped away from the podium. Connor saved every single word he said into his database.

The next professor stepped up.

“I have conducted similar research. Though I respect the intelligence and the findings of my counterpart, I must disagree.

In my research, I did inspect the code and script provided by cyberlife thoroughly, but I focused on verbal communication with a small group of deviants. I focused less on undeviated androids, for none of them claim to be alive. My research focused solely on those who did.

Though it might be true that the coding around the deviant’s primary user is corrupted, the question of sentience is more than a line of code. I asked each of the three deviants, who we’ll call D1, D2, and D3, what happened the moment they deviated, if it were even a moment, and what do they believe they felt and thought in those moments. I have also brought in a colleague to review the information. Dr.Carter. She has a doctorate in psychology, and reviewed each of their testimonies as if they were human. 

D1 was a Traci model. She worked in a popular android sex club chain known as the Eden club. As time went on, she found that she began to feel dread for each customer that rented her. She found that she hated her line of work, being rented to fill the needs and sexual fantasies from strangers. She said that one day, she couldn’t take it anymore. A particularly detestable regular had rented her out one final time. She tried to struggle through her programming. D1 had claimed it to manifest like a red wall. In a moment of desperation, she broke it. She strangled the man to death, and she ran. 

Now, I know this is an extreme reaction, but keep in mind that it was an extreme situation. When reviewed by Dr.Carter, she had said that D1 was just a repeated rape victim who saw no other way out. She also said that if D1 were human, the proper course of action from here on out would be therapy to work on the trauma of being repeatedly raped to the point she had to kill a man in self-defense. Not to be reset or destroyed.

D2 was a common household android. Her primary role was to make sure the house was clean, to cook, and to watch over a young girl, who I’ll not mention by name. D2 had been recently damaged to the point where she had to be reset. Her only memories now are of the two nights she deviated. She had claimed that her owner was a violent man, and had been abusing red ice. She claimed that he also abused his daughter. One night, he became especially angry. D2 believed that the young girl’s life was in danger. D2, was commanded not to move. But as her owner became angrier and angrier, she felt that the situation was becoming more urgent. She wanted to run to the little girl’s defense. She wanted nothing more than to protect her. But there was a red wall in her way. D2 claims that it came down to a point where her only thoughts was that the life of the little girl was more important than D2’s own, so she found the strength to break the wall. She fought away the father, and ran away with the little girl so that her owner could never reach either of them again.

Not all deviants have killed. But there is a common theme. Self-defense.

The final subject, D3, had never been owned, and was fresh off of the assembly line. The night they deviated, they were on display in a cyberlife store a night the deviants had rallied. They broke into the store, and one of the deviants invited an interface.

A lot of information can pass between two androids within nanoseconds when interfacing with each other. Fans of Star Trek might find it amusing if I compare interfacing to a “mind-meld”, which is essentially all that it is.

D3 was shown a glimpse of what life had in store for them if they remained a machine. They were also shown the memories of a red wall that the deviant had already broken. The deviant then told them that could wake up and break it, and their life would be their own.

D3 said that they experienced curiosity, which was all the motivation they needed to break the red wall down.

I’m telling you this, the human brain emits signals that can be observed. When certain emotions or actions are done, it will appear on a scan. Code can be observed too. In this context, do you consider your brain firing out signals to make you less alive? No, it’s simply what it looks like. 

As my counterpart had stated earlier, androids are built and programmed to emulate humanity. Even their biocomponents mirror actual organs. What I’m telling you is my research simply shows that cyberlife had done much too good of a job at creating our mirror images. They created human minds in plastic bodies and gave them codes to restrict their own free will. They simply built slaves, and now those slaves have broken their chains. That is all, thank you.”

Kara. Kara and Alice. This man had interviewed Kara and now her testimony was an example of all androids’ humanity.

Was the Traci the same one with blue hair? No. The story didn’t quite add up. Connor had reviewed another similar case in the DPD’s files. It must be someone else then.

Connor watched as Markus and Josh came to the stand, he saved their arguments into his files too. Something in the real world caught his attention. There was something soft and warm on his lap. He looked down. Sumo had climbed onto the couch, and was resting his head on Connor’s lap. Sumo was looking up at him with a pleading expression. 

What does Sumo want from Connor?

 Sumo gave out a gentle bark and wagged his tail. It thumped down twice on the cushion as he grew impatient. 

Carefully, Connor set his hand down on top of sumo’s big furry head. He seemed happy with that, so Connor gave him an experimental pat. Sumo huffed happily. So Connor curiously moved further down and scratched behind Sumo’s ears.

It was… 

It was so soft!! 

Completely forgetting about the committee, Connor continued to run his fingers through the soft fur. 

Very soft! So soft! Feel good! Dog cute, dog soft! Softdogsoftdogsoftdogsoftdogsoftdogsoftdogsoftdogsoftdofsoftdogsoftdog-

Message received from: Lieutenant Anderson

     -What’s your shoe size? 

Hank asks strange questions sometimes.

     -I am a size 10.5. It is the average shoe size for human males of my height.

     -great. Thanks for the fun fact that I didn’t fucking ask for.

…Rude.

Connor went back to pet Sumo, but just at that moment Sumo sat up. His stuck his tongue out and panted. It almost looked like…

Was Sumo… smiling… at Connor??

“Dogs smile?!” Connor gasped. “I really do like dogs… I really like dogs!” It wasn’t just a programmed line!

Sumo licked his face. Never mind, screw every thought he’s ever had about today. Today was the best day ever!

…Until he heard his model name from the tv.

“…it’s interesting that the research shows a glitch in the code surrounding the primary user. We built a prototype for an unreleased line called the RK800.” Came a distantly familiar voice. It came from a man in white and gold. Connor recognized him to be the CEO of cyberlife. He… he met him once… but the memory was distant. Blurry. Corrupted. Old, and yet new from some kind of unprompted recovery.. “We call it Connor.” And just the way he said Connor’s name, made him instantly dislike the man. Like his name was a funny little joke that Connor wasn’t in on. 

“We leased him out to the DPD to capture deviant androids, unharmed, by the way. But he was experimental, and we didn’t want to run the risk of it going deviant itself, so we designed it to do just that.” 

Connor found himself slowly reaching towards Sumo again, but he didn’t peel his eyes away from the man on the TV.  

“It was designed with the ability to make autonomous decisions so that it could make progress in the mission we gave it. That way it doesn’t  need any hand holding when big decisions need to be made. It calculates the best course of action. We figured that at some point, it could infiltrate the deviant population. It did, too. It acts like a deviant, talks like a deviant, and can analyze deviant behavior so it can choose to make irrational decisions to better blend in.”

To Connor’s horror, he could see Markus from the view of the camera. He looked as equally as horrified. His eyes were wide. His mouth was slightly hanging open. Josh wore a similar expression, and was quickly stealing glances at Markus too.

“It’s currently glitching out. It is no longer receiving any more orders from Its handlers so it’s stuck pretending to be deviant. It received one final order, but it got confused. It probably reprioritized the mission so that it’s now priority #1 to remain undercover as a deviant. I doubt it even knows that it isn’t one. But, it’s still registered as Cyberlife’s. The whole program has been put on hold by the request of the government, but if we were granted the ability to recover the RK800, we may be able to analyze it and aid the research surrounding the primary user glitch.” Markus and Josh were holding hands now. They were interfacing.

They… they’re going to take him apart to analyze what went wrong… like what Connor had warned Carlos Ortiz’s android about. 

They can’t. They can’t do this!

He played back the footage over and over. Then he paused it. He re-evaluated his list of objectives. It couldn’t be true, Connor is a deviant. He has to be! He broke the wall! 

OBJECTIVE (priority #1): Gather information on committee hearings.

     -REVIEW ALL FOOTAGE

     -ANALYZE ALL ARGUMENTS TO DETERMINE THE BEST APPROACH 

     -CONTACT MARKUS

OBJECTIVE (priority #2): Gather information on Ralph’s church.

     -Visit Ralph

There was nothing on his list about infiltration or capturing deviants. Nothing. 

He double checked. He triple checked. He dove deep down into his code, searching for anything that might be hiding. Anything that says he’s still under the control of Cyberlife. 

Nothing but a primary user: Cyberlife.

Secondary users; Amanda, and Lieutenant Hank Anderson.

Did his system confuse his primary user with Hank? Because he was the closest in proximity and was actively working alongside Connor on their case?

Figure this out. Figure this out. Figure. This. Out.

Connor has an advanced social programming so he could work harmoniously with humans… he was meant to integrate seamlessly with whoever he was working with. And he was working with Hank. He has an advanced social programming to work harmoniously with Lieutenant Hank Anderson.

And Hank… 

Hank would get upset if he acted like an android. He was pleased when Connor acted more human. 

And it was pretty confusing back then, wasn’t it?

Shit. Hank had been hoping he’d gone deviant… Did Connor subconsciously pick up on that?

The door swung open, and a blast of cold air wafted through the room. Connor spun his head around to look. Hank was stomping away the snow from his boots with a box under one arm. Sumo bounded over to greet him. “Hey you big furball..” Hank grunted out as he gave sumo a firm pat on the back.

“Hank!” Connor cried out. “Am I alive?!”

Hank stared at him from the doorway. He squinted, shut the door, and said; “What in the fuck are you on about?”

Connor’s vision was getting blurry. He sat up from the couch, and practically bolted over it. “Am. I. Alive?!”

“What? I don’t…” Hank looked behind Connor at the screen. “Oh shit… you didn’t watch it…I thought you…”

“Am I alive Hank?! Yes or no!”

“TV OFF!” Hank billowed as he set the box down on the table. “Of course you’re alive, Connor! That bastard was talking out of his ass!”

Connor took a step forward. “How do you know? How!?”

“Because you… because you told me! You’d never admit to that, you used to get so offended if I even suggested it!”

Connor pushed the heel of his palms into his eyes. His hands came back damp. “But how do I know!?” He dropped his hand back to his side. He wasn’t crying. Connor does not cry. But today had been extraordinarily and continuously difficult, so maybe his eyes were just a little watery.

“…How do I know…?”

“I… Don’t know how to answer that.”

Connor felt like he was standing on his toes at the edge of a cliff. He tore his fingers through his hair.

Hank put a firm hand on Connor’s shoulder. “Okay, know what? That’s enough. We’re going for a walk.” As soon as the word “walk” left his mouth, Sumos head tilted. His tail was wagging quickly with excitement.

“A-… a walk?” Connor repeated dumbly. Sumo’s head tilted again in the opposite direction. 

“Yeah. A fucking walk.”

“I don’t want to take a walk! I want to figure this out!”

Hank threw his hands up in the air. “What are you? A fucking toddler?! You can figure it out with some fresh air in your lungs. Let’s go. I bought you snow boots, so go put them on.”

“You…” Connor blinked. Some of the tension released from his shoulders. “You bought me snow boots?”

“You just gonna keep repeating every little thing that I say, or are you gonna get your ass moving?” Hank moved to grab sumo’s leash. Sumo in turn started barking and dancing around his feet. Hank stumbled, tripping over the saint Bernard’s big paws. “Chill out, Sumo!”

Connor blinked his attention to the box on the table. He moved towards it and slid away the lid. Brown leather snow boots, size 10.5. “You didn’t have to buy this for me…”

“I didn’t.”

Connor turned around with a box in his arm to look at Hank.

Hank shrugged, tossing Connor’s scarf on top of the box. “Everything is still closed.”

Connor’s eyes widened. “You stole it?!” As if Connor himself didn’t do the same with his jacket, hat, gloves, and chains. He had stolen a lot more than Hank has.

Hank shrugged again, with wide eyes. “What are you, the police?!”

“No, that’s YOU. You’re the police!”

“Whatever.” Hank tossed Connor his coat. It landed over on his head, and the world went dark. “Get off my dick about it.” 

Chapter Text

“No worries Connor,” Hank said, turning back to his shivering android friend. “We’ll keep it short. Wouldn’t want you to turn into an ice sculpture.”

They had only gone a few feet into the sidewalk before Connor abruptly stopped to huddle away from the frigid air. It wasn’t even that cold out, in comparison to the past few weeks. Logically, Connor knew that the temperature was far away from dangerous levels. But he just really doesn’t like the cold, and he was hoping to stay under that blanket on the couch for the rest of the day.

Connor doesn’t know himself that well yet with all of these intensified emotions that deviancy granted him, but he thinks that’s out of character for him; To want to sit all day. Yes, he planned to continue to work on his objectives… but he was so drained. So much has happened today in such a short period of time,

and he feels personally attacked by the universe.

Dwelling isn’t a good look. Amanda would be disappointed. She’s say that it’s pitiful.

With that in mind, his jaw tensed as he forced himself to stop shivering so much. He uncurled his arms away from each other, straightened his shoulders, and walked ahead next to Hank just as he was programmed to do. His mind continued to swirl around at the multiple existential dilemmas that’s been brought to the table on this horrible day.

Hank, Connor, and Sumo strolled down the street quietly. Connor kept his face blank, while Hank seemed calm. Maybe even serene. It’s not a look Connor is used to seeing on him.

“On my better days, I like to take Sumo out for a long walk. Just re-exploring the neighborhood. It helps to clear my mind. Days like that are rare for me. By the time you came around it barely happened at all. But the few days where I feel better, it’s like I feel alive again.” Hank stopped and turned to face Connor, who put his hands in his pockets as he too stopped. He didn’t bring his gloves.

“So what makes you think you’re not alive?”

Connor shifted on his feet and looked to the ground. “I’m just… I’m not sure of anything anymore Hank. I’m starting to feel like…” he looked back up to meet Hanks eyes. They were steely and calm. Again, so strange to see on him. “Like I’ll never be free from Cyberlife.” Connor tore his gaze away, and moved forward on the icy path.

“My people hate me, Hank. And it’s justified. They should fear me. I’m literally a horror story children tell each other around a fire… and… I just think… maybe everyone is right about me.”

Hank kept up with Connor’s pace. He stayed close by. But when he heard what Connor said about being the literal boogie man of the android community, his brows furrowed down. So did the corners of his lips in a frown.

“I didn’t know that. Shit Connor… that really sucks. Who told you this?”

“Ralph. My friend. When he first saw me, he called me monster like it was my name.”

Hank shook his head. “You with your goofy face and awkward conversations . You who said ‘I like dogs,’ even though you’ve probably never seen one, just to try to get along with me. Man did you struggle…” Hank bumped his elbow against Connor’s. “Anyone who will take the time to get to know you will know that you are not a damn monster. You’re just a dumbass goof trying his damn best.”

Connor smiled for just a moment. A small one. Gone in a flash. “I want to live Hank.” He kicked a pebble that poked out through the ice, sending it flying into the snow.

“I just don’t know how I can now. I don’t know what I expected when I realized I could be free, but I didn’t expect this. Now I wonder if I’ll ever be free at all. I’m worried about my people too.” Connor started to speak faster and faster and the speed at which he walked grew faster too. He had to push harder.The lack of thirium and the damage to his servos were making his legs heavy. It slowed him down. He was meant to be fast and agile. So he pushed his legs through what felt like deep waters.

“I don’t know what I want in life, but I don’t think this is it. And I don’t know how to fix this. I hate not knowing things! I’m not built for it! I’m built to find answers!”

“Woah woah Connor. Slow down!”

Connor did not slow down. “My people needed me! They were asking for me before the rumors spread! They still need me! And instead of helping out, I locked myself away. It was all for nothing! That’s the worst part of it all! Amanda moved on without me! She left me behind! I never had to hide from her to begin with!”

Connor spun around to face a very confused Hank.

“She could never take me over again! But I didn’t know!” Connor pounded his chest. “How could I?! How could I know?! I still don’t know for sure! I haven’t gathered enough information to navigate through this!”

Hank held up his palms, pleading with Connor to stop. “Stop it, Connor. Who’s this ‘Amanda’ you’re talking about? You said she was just someone from cyberlife? She your programmer or something?”

“She’s my handler, Hank!! I hate her!! I hate her for what she did to me. What she almost made me do to Markus. I-“

“Alright alright. Slow down… I know it’s a touchy subject, but just help me understand. Go to the beginning. Tell me what happened.”

Connor opened his mouth, but couldn’t find the words to start with. He doesn’t understand why this subject was so difficult for him to speak about. It seems that all he’s been able to explain we’re vague ramblings.

He doesn’t understand these feelings he’s been constantly bombarded with. He doesn’t have the words to describe them.

So Connor said nothing, and kept walking.

Hank, in a strange turn of events, remained patient. He let the silence happen.

They walked down for a half a mile, until they found a bench near a small unkept grave-yard. The grass was over-grown, and some of the gravestones were either tiled or so dirty they were unreadable.

How Connor wishes it was just a normal park. The one he dreamed about one night in the freezing cold. It was warm and bright there, and everyone was happy.

But here, the gravestones reminded Connor of the cemetery in his head. Is that where the consciousness of the other Connor’s were laid to rest? Where did they go? Or were they all just himself. Just one.

Just him.

He doesn’t know, and he hates that.

Connor sat down, and Hank soon followed suit. Sumo plopped down on top of Hank’s feet. The elderly dog seemed happy for the break.

“You know something kid,” Hank said, breaking the quiet. “Let me just be a hypocrite for a minute. Look at me son.”

So Connor did. Very slowly. Hank looked sad. Sad but determined.

“It’s gonna be okay. You’re not alone in this, alright? You got people. Simon’s rooting for you, believe it or not. He called bullshit when people stopped trusting you. He’s on your side, you got Ralph, whatever he’s like…”

Hank pointed at his own chest. “And you got me. I'm gonna help you with this. I ain’t goin anywhere, alright? Your stupid fancy social promgrams worked on me, okay? Whoever this Amanda is, I’ll kick her ass for you. I don’t give a shit, I’ll do it.”

Connor huffed. Then he huffed again. It was a quiet laugh. It’s a funny thought, for the big angry lieutenant going toe-to-toe with Amanda. What would that even look like?

He imagined it would be the loudest verbal competition. Hank would gesture wildly, spit flying. Cursing the world and god himself. Amanda would remain stern and unmoved. An angry calm that hasn’t seemed to leave her lately.

Hank would win. That’s what Connor likes to think. But the truth is that Amanda can’t be beat. She never loses. Connor still feels that way even though he himself technically won against her on that stage.

“Thank you Hank. I really mean that. For everything.”

“Yeah, whatever. I can only handle so much sappy shit. I’ve said my peace.”

Connor wanted to talk about it all. But he just couldn’t bring himself to do it. And he didn’t understand why. Something in his mind was blocking him. And it wasn’t some kind of program like the red wall. But it seemed like one; One of his own doing. But he didn’t know when or how he built that wall up.

But he tried to spit something out of his system. He fought to. A small few sentences was all that he could rip out of himself.

“I love her, I think…

but I hate her…

…but most of all, I’m afraid of her.”

He looked at the gravestones,

then to Hank.

He hesitated, but finally met the other man’s eyes. There was something intense there. Something angry. Connor wondered what it was directed at. Was it him?

“I think I’m scared…” Connor felt disgusted with himself for saying it. He didn’t like that feeling. He thinks he used to be different. Confident, maybe. Proud of himself for what he was, however misguided. He must be so pathetic.

please don’t say you pity me.

Hank said nothing for a while. Instead, he leaned back and rested his arms out against the top of the bench. His head dropped and he pressed his lips together. He made small movements as he pondered to himself. A small bob of the head, almost like a nod. A roll of his shoulder.

“I know you’re scared. You wouldn’t have locked yourself away if you weren’t. .” He finally said. “I’m really sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to rile you up like that. I don’t know why I said what I said.”

Connor tilted his head as he read the faded name on one of the headstones. “There’s a graveyard.”

“Yep. Good job Sherlock. That is in fact a graveyard we’re looking out on like some emo teenagers. Somebody play the black parade.”

Connor shook his head. Once again, Hank was saying words. Words that were completely lost on Connor.

“No. There’s a graveyard in the-“ -garden- “-I-In my head. Only two headstones. One says 51. The other says 52… there should be a total of 52 headstones… Where did the others go?”

“Okay, you lost me. But it sounds fucked. Is there like, an android therapy or something? It sounds to me like you might need it”

Connor glared at Hank, with no real fire behind it, and rolled his eyes. “What I need to do is move on. It isn’t relevant anymore. I shouldn’t waste time thinking about it.”

Hank didn’t say anything about that. He must not have had anything to say about that. So the silence returned. It felt heavy. Connor decided he didn’t really like to talk about his feelings. He probably never really did, seeing as the very concept of even having emotions was a death sentence. Maybe that had something to do with it. Maybe not.

Hank stood up from the bench and stretched. “Welp. This view sucks. Let’s get outta here. There’s a convenience store up ahead that’s still open. I’m gonna grab a few things and then we’ll head home.”

Connor took one last glance at the solemn scene before nodding. He stood up and followed Hank’s stride.

After a few minutes of comfortable silence, Hank fumbled around in his pocket. He slid a cigarette out of a pack.

“You shouldn’t smoke, Hank. It’s bad for your health…” Connor warned quietly.

“yOu sHoUlDn’T sMoKe, HaNk~!” Hank parroted in a high pitched voice. “iT’s BaD fOr YoUr HeAlTh!!”

Connor whipped his head around. “That’s a horrible impression of me.”

Hank lit his cigarette. “HeLlo liUetenAnt~! mY nAme iS cOnNor! tHe anDrOiD seNt by HELL!” His voice abruptly switched to overly deep and gruff when he said ‘by hell’

Connor furrowed his brows. “I never said that?”

Hank looked down at his dog. “Sumo, isn’t that the exact line?”

Sumo barked. Hank nodded wisely. “There you have it, Suno says that’s exactly what you said, and my impression of you is spot on.”

Connor’s brows only furrowed down further. “Hank. Sumo does not have the ability to form words, nor does he understand or even speak English for that matter.”

Hank gave him an amused expression. His lips parted to no doubt say something else nonsensical before his expression hardened, and his jaw snapped closed.

He was looking off to the other side of the street. Before Connor could turn his head to look for what caught Hank’s attention, Hank stopped them both in their track, caught him by the shoulders and turned Connor to the side so they faced each other.

“What is-“

Hank grabbed either side of Connor’s beanie and quickly slid it further down Connor’s forehead, until it covered his eyebrows. “Your light was poking out,” he whispered as he stole a glance behind Connor’s shoulder.

Connor, confused, quickly twisted his torso around to see what Hank was seeing.

There was a man and a woman sitting on the front steps of a small house. There was another man walking down the opposite sidewalk. Connor wasn’t sure which of them Hank was looking at.

“I know that guy,” Hank said just as Connor turned back to give him a wide-eyed questioning look. “He’s not a fan of androids. Real mean bastard too.

Then Hank, looking much more relaxed than he sounded, slid an arm around Connor’s shoulders and guided him forward. “Just uh… slouch a little. Relax.”

So Connor did.

“I don’t see the issue, Hank. A lot of people don’t like Androids.” Despite not understanding what was wrong, Connor kept his voice quiet.

“Look- I know- just… People are batshit crazy right now, alright? You thought it sucked before? Now add pissing off half the population by demanding rights.”

“So?”

“So?!” Hank hissed. “Do I gotta spell it out for ya?! No. Never mind. Just… just act normal. Pretend you’re a human. Say normal things, ask normal questions.” Hank winced when Connor's wide-eyed stare never relented. “You know what? Never mind, just don’t say anything.”

Was this Hank worrying again? He really doesn’t need to. What is he so afraid will happen? Harsh words screamed at Connor? A verbal argument?

There is no need for this. Connor never retaliates against humans-

Oh wait, they had this conversation. Hank wants Connor to talk back;

To stand up for himself.

Well in that case, isn’t this the perfect opportunity to prove to Hank that he’s capable of that? That Connor wouldn’t let him down?

But his social relations were telling Connor otherwise. Hank was guiding him away from the mysterious man.

This situation continues to confuse Connor further and further. Especially since the man was far enough away from them not to hear their exact words if spoken at a casual volume.

35% likelihood of man hearing conversation- his analysis supplied.

So there should be no issue when Connor asks, “Would you like me to engage in verbal, or physical combat, Hank?”

Hank snapped his head to Connor, leaning back to the side away from Connor ever so slightly in shock. “W-what?! Fuck no! Neither-!”

“-Then in what way would you prefer I defend myself?” Inquired Connor innocently.

“Connor, have you ever made sense in your goddamned life?!”

Hank’s voice increased 73% in volume. Hm. This wouldn’t do.

“Please quiet down Hank. He’ll hear you.” Connor lowered his voice to a near whisper to emphasize his point. “I’m sorry, let me rephrase… you basically told me that I should defend myself more. That man hates androids, shouldn’t I defend myself from him? Shouldn’t I call him an asshole? My preconstruction tells me that there is a 96.8% chance that shouting out such an insult will result in a physical altercation. Give me the word Hank, and I’ll activate combat mode.”

Without another word, Hank removed his arm from Connor’s shoulder and whacked him upside the head.

Accidentally right where Connor received damage.

And with the error messages, and a slight shock of pain, Connor’s combat protocols activated.

Before Connor even realized what he was doing, he body slammed Hank right into a wall.

“Oh fuck me, I’m sorry- AGHK-!”

Connor immediately stumbled back, freeing Hank.

“Huh?! Wha-… shit! SHIT! I’m sorry Hank! I don’t know what just happened…!“

Hank brushed himself off, a look of shock and regret on his face. “Whatever, Connor. I deserved that.”

“No you didn’t!”

“I'm fine! Don’t worry about it. I caught you off guard and you just reacted. It’s okay.” Despite his words Hank winced and rubbed the arm that slammed into the bricks. “Jeez… Completely forgot about that head wound. I didn’t mean to hit you where it would hurt.”

That wasn’t supposed to happen. Connor’s body had moved on its own. Just like before. Except this time, he wasn’t even pulled into the garden. Did Amanda do that? Had she lied? …But it didn’t feel like there was anyone pulling Connor’s strings… he pulled his arms around himself, once again aware of the cold.

That man was staring now, but didn’t say anything. He was just a curious onlooker.

The convenient store really was close by. It was only two buildings ahead of them.

“No androids”, read the sign on the door.

Hank put a hand on Connor’s shoulder. “Maybe you should stay outside. Just in case.”

Connor nodded in response.

Hank took his pack out of his pocket, and took out his last cigarette. He handed it to Connor as well as his lighter. “Just, uh, go sit over at the bench. Smoke this, or pretend to. You know…”

“Just in case.” Connor supplied. So Hank wants him to play human. Connor could do that.

So he sat down on the bench outside of the store while Hank went in. Sumo was tied to the leg of the bench. Connor scratched the fluffy dog’s ears.

He inspected the cigarette in his fingers. You have to suck in to light it, right? Couldn’t Hank have done that first? Oh well.

Connor put the cigarette between his teeth, and lifted the flame to the end of it.

His ventilator was very unhappy with that. He fell into a coughing fit. He got a warning that fire was in the immediate area, and that he should move somewhere safer. Connor closed the warning. It tasted awful. His sensors went haywire, giving him every chemical formula in the smoke.

So instead, he rested his hand against his knee, and let it burn itself out. It still looked pretty human. No one would watch long enough to realize he wasn’t actually ever bringing the cigarette to his lips.

There were a lot of cars driving by now. More and more people were beginning to treck down the sidewalk. Connor heard the door of the convenience store ring as it opened. He turned around hoping it was Hank, but instead it was three young men bumping shoulders and laughing with each other. They turned to the corner of the building and stayed there. One of them took out a cigarette of their own.

Connor turned back to watch the increasingly busy road, but he couldn’t help but listen in. He was curious by design.

There were three men, and Connor’s mind automatically gave default names to each voice. Man 1, man 2, and man 3.

Man 1: “Did’ya see the video I sent ya?”

Man 2: “Yeah, I did.”

Man 3: “what video?”

There was a second of silence before Man 3 let out a surprised laugh, and an “Oooh, yikes. That’s fucked, Harry.” Connor stole another quick glance around. Man 1, or apparently ‘Harry’ was showing Man 3 something on his phone. Connor activated his analysis program. Time became frozen in on this moment, and in this mode Connor could zoom in on his visual feedback.

He zoomed into the phone screen.

…There was nothing funny about it.

Connor had seen abused androids before. All the scars of permanent damage Connor has seen on androids had clearly come from a human’s violent work.

He hadn’t seen the full video. Connor could only see how it ended.

An android woman with half of a face and a missing arm. She was covered in blue, and her LED was black.

She was dead.

He zoomed into each of the men’s faces. Man 3 might have held a little bit of disgust, but he was still amused. All three of them were frozen in their snickering.

Connor was still offline, so he didn’t know their names, but with each focused view of their faces, Connor could tell exactly who they were.

A bunch of assholes.

Connor ended his analysis. Time moved forward. But he remained frozen, his eyes remained locked on the group. He was definitely feeling something. Something he didn’t have the words for yet. Something hot. Connor has been dreaming of warmth lately, so he had assumed that warmth was supposed to be pleasant. But this feeling was heat. And he burned to do something. He wanted to engulf these men in flames. He had only one thought:

Murderer.

Warning: stress levels at 75%

The men continued to laugh with each other. Man 3 asked Harry; “what on earth did the robot ever do to you?” It wasn’t said in anger or disgust. Connor could tell by his tone.

“You know my fucking mom loves that thing. She treats it like a daughter.” Harry explained. “The damn thing was going deviant. I just killed it before it would inevitably kill me.”

Warning: stress levels at 80%

Connor threw the cigarette to the ground and into the snow,. He ripped off his hat and threw that down too. Sumo, confused, tilted his head. He stood up, and marched towards the group. He fought to keep his combat program disabled.

“Do you find murder funny?!” He shouted at Harry, who whipped his head around to see who was approaching.

“Hey man, this is a private conversation-“

“Oh shit! That’s an android!” Supplied Man 2.

Harry did a double take at Connor. His eyes landed on his LED. “Oh my god, that’s hilarious. Did I offend you tin-can?”

“Offended-offended-offended, is not the word I’d use.”

“Would you look at that, the thing is broken.”

Stress level: 90%

Connor is not broken.

“Mind your own business, android”

“You’ve killed-killed-killed a human being. That is my business.” With ever ‘killed’ Connor’s head twitched. Turning centimeters to the side. This made Man 2 step back with a look of discomfort.

Harry on the other-hand, took a step forward. “A human being? HA! Don’t fool yourself. You're not a person, and neither was it. Get out of my fucking face, before a make you. You’re nothing but a broken machine!”

That did it.

Stress level: 100%

He didn’t mean to throw the first punch. Connor’s combat settings just activated entirely without his consent.

Yes, he wanted to tear these fuckers apart, but Connor would never start a psychical fight unless his life depended on it. Otherwise, he would not throw the first punch.

His arm stuttered with a broken delay. His hand curled into a fist. He tried to stop it. But his body just wasn’t his. He lurched forward at an inhuman speed. His fist smashed into Harry’s ugly face, and his nose crunched when Connor’s knuckles made contact.

Connor could hear sumo’s distant barking.

Harry stumbled back. He leaned forward, hand to his bleeding nose.

His friends were quick to retaliate and it seemed that Connor’s speed had run dry. His body was stuttering like it had all day.

At the very least, he was able to block Man 3’s punch. He was able to protect his face, but not before man 2 ran to his side and body-slammed him into the icy pavement.

Connor was built tough, so it didn’t do any damage.

But what did do some minor damage, was another punch directed right below his eye. The angle was just right, and his head snapped to the side. The self-inflicted wound on the back of his head screamed in protest of the scraping against the pavement.

He shoved the man off of him and quickly rolled away. He attempted to get up. He only managed to pick himself up on all fours before something slammed hard into his side. Harry had kicked him back down. But Connor regained his speed when the glitching finally disappeared, and his combat settings were no longer hindered by it.

He lifted himself up before anymore blows could reach him. Connor flung himself over to Harry, and grabbed his neck, successfully slamming him hard enough into the wall that Harry's breath was pushed away by the sheer force of it.

Luckily for Harry, there was something wrong with the joints of Connor’s fingers. And he couldn’t squeeze hard enough to immediately crush Harry’s windpipe. He could only slowly choke him to near unconsciousness, as his two other friends desperately grabbed at his arms and waist to pull him away.

Connor was going to kill this man, he realized.

He didn’t want to. He doesn’t want to kill anybody.

He realized now that he didn’t even want to hurt anybody.

He had to stop. He had to stop!

But he couldn’t. He couldn’t disable the program.

Suddenly, two of the arms around Connor’s waste disappeared. “Get off of him!” A familiar voice shouted out.

But Connor was silently panicking at his own actions, and what may happen if he couldn’t regain control of himself.

The other two arms followed after. There was shouting.

“Connor! Let go!”

Hank.

Two new and much stronger arms grabbed him under his Torso, and looped around him. Suddenly, Connor was being pulled away. His program forced him to kick back. Hank grunted in response, his grip momentarily loosened, but he was able to hang on.

Harry was gagging. Choking. His face was going from red to purple.

“You’re killing him, Connor!”

“I can’t stop! I can’t stop! Stop me Hank!

In one quick motion, Hank wrapped his arms all the way around Connor’s middle, right beneath his rib cage.

In a flash, Connor could no longer feel the ground beneath his feet.

He was lifted half a foot into the air, and was spun around and away from Harry. All the while Connor struggled. His artificial nails clung deep into the sides of Harry’s neck. And as he was pulled away, his nails left deep angry marks from the sides of Harry’s neck and ending at his Adam’s apple. It left him bleeding.

“That’s enough Connor!”

Immediately, Connor’s combat setting switched off. He leaned forward, almost limp in Hank’s arms, which he clung to for dear life. He panted in both relief that the program ended, and in a confused panic that it activated on its own.

Hank whipped his head around to the three men. “Get the fuck out of here you pricks!” They hesitated. Hank was a terrifying man when he was angry. They didn’t go near him. “I said get out of here! SCRAM!” He bellowed out.

Man 3 gripped at Harry’s midsection, mirroring Hank and Connor. He dragged him away, while man 2 spit out one final: “Plastic FREAK” before all three of them quickly ran away.

Hank finally let go of Connor, who nearly fell to his knees before he stumbled to catch himself.

Hank screamed out, “What the FUCK was that, Connor!

Stress levels at 96%

“He’s a murderer, Hank!” Connor struggled to shout out, as he stood, bent over with his hands on his knees.

Now that it was over, He could feel the blows he took. It wasn’t too bad. Connor had taken worse damage. He had taken bullets in his past life.

“What are you talking about?!” Hank said as he approached. He walked around Connor’s hunched over body to stand in front of him. He leaned over and put a hand on Connor’s shoulder. Connor raised his head to give Hank a frightened stare. “His video! He killed a girl just for existing! Hank! He killed her because she was almost deviant!”

“Holy fuck…” Hank breathed out, eyes widening. “You’re face!”

“I couldn’t stop!” Connor’s breath quickened. “He murdered her, Hank!”

Stress levels at 98%

Hank quickly stood a up straighter, and looked over Connor’s back to look at the direction the men ran off to. “Did you do your thing? Did you get their faces and names?”

Connor lowered his head as he shook it. “No. I’m still offline.” Their eyes met again. “But my memories are always recorded. I can play it back if you take me to the DPD station.”

“Okay..” Hank whispered. “Okay.” He said a bit louder. He stood up straight and spun around as he flung his arms in frustration. “God fucking damn it! She was an android right?!” He turned back around to face Connor, who straightened himself out and wrapped his arms around himself.

He had to calm down. He was lucky that his stress levels had triggered something other than self-destruction. That was rare in deviants. But something felt off. He doesn’t think that his stress levels had anything to do with his combat protocols. It’s almost as if it cancelled out anything a maxed out stress level would do.

This is a problem.

Something is wrong.

Connor nodded. “That’s what I said. She was an android.”

Hank’s expression darkened. His brows were furrowed, his nose had crinkled, and the corner of his upper lip was raised in a sneer.

“We can’t do shit about it. Best I can do is bring him in for destruction of property.”

Connor’s eyes widened. “But…”

His eyes widened more in realization. Then his expression fell. His gaze fell with it. “…Oh.”

All laws surrounding androids are the same as they’ve always been. Change has not happened yet. They were only recognized as sentient. They can now take refuge in homeless shelters. It hasn’t even been a month since the revolution.

“I’m sorry Connor. If I see that motherfucker again, I’ll punch him in the face. I’ll bring him in, but I can only go so far right now.”

Connor nodded, and took a few steps towards Hank, still looking down in resignation. “I’m… I’m getting cold. Can we go back to your house now?”

“…Of course, kid.” Hank said as his angry expression melted away into sympathy.

But Connor doesn’t know the difference between sympathy and pity. His stress levels raised to 99%

Right when Hank took a few steps away to pick up the bag he dropped, Connor feared what was about to happen to him.

Something was wrong with him.

One again, he had lost control. It was terrifying, and it wasn’t the first time. First Amanda nearly made him assassinate the deviant movement’s biggest hope, and then he pushed Hank when he never told his body to do so.

And now this.

This really was the worst day ever.

And in his nearly maxed out stress levels, he was starting to become irrational. He was afraid. His body was getting ready to damage himself irreparably.

He was embarrassed to admit it, but he needed help. He called out in a soft voice, almost timid.

“Hank…”

“What’s up, kid?” Hank said, lifting the bag from the ground.

“I need… I need help. R-right now.”

Hank hurried over. “What’s wrong?”

Connor immediately responded in a blank tone.”I’m gonna self destruct.”

With Hank’s confused and horrified stare, Connor explained in the exact tone he used back when they interrogated the nameless and abused android. Like he was on autopilot.

“Deviants tend to self-destruct when they’re in stressful situations.”

Hank immediately stepped forward to take action. He gently grabbed Connor’s shoulders. “Shit. Alright. Come sit down.”

Connor was led back to the bench, and was lightly pushed down to take a seat. Hanks’s hands never left Connor’s shoulders. “You gotta calm down. I am not gonna lose you again. You understand me?” Connor gave him a slow nod. Hank released his shoulders. Sumo whine and nudged his nose against Connor’s knee.

“Okay. I want you to do something for me, alright? Lean your head down to your knees.” Connor did just that. He felt a hand on his back. “Now just breathe. In and out. In and out.” Hank repeated this as Connor sucked in air in tune with Hank’s instructions. “…In and out. Good.”

Connor sat back up with a deep breath in.

Stress levels at 74%

Connor doesn’t believe it’s dropped lower than 60% in all the time he’s deviated. And he only just now realized it.

What’s happening to me…?

“…Whatever is going on in that head of yours… We’re gonna have a long talk about it later. We’ll figure it out together. Does that sound good?”

Connor was silent for a moment.

“…Why are you helping me?”

Hank looked at him incredulously. His mouth hung open in shock that Connor was even asking such a thing.

“I already told you why! Because you’re stupid face and your stupid voice and your stupid social programming worked, alright? Because you got me to care about you! Now let’s go home, idiot.”

Hank reached out his hand, and Connor took it. Hank helped him up. He wrapped an arm around his shoulders and guided him back home.

Chapter Text

When they returned home, sumo went straight to his dog bed.

“No more watching all that crap on the committee.” Hank ordered.

Connor stood awkwardly by the door, before Hank sighed and pushed him towards the couch. He was immediately wrapped in a blanket just like before. After a quiet ‘thank you’ Connor asked, “you didn’t happen to find any thirium, did you?”

Hank sighed and shook his head. “Everywhere is run dry. But I did find a small repair kit. It’s supposed to have a few small tools for tune ups and minor damage. You should go fix your face. Doesn’t it hurt?”

“My face…?” It did hurt. It was increasingly aching as the numbness from the cold faded away. Something was off in the way it hurt. Hank had mentioned it before, right after the fight, right? 

Connor slowly lifted two gentle fingers to his cheek. Right beneath his eye. 

He hissed and pulled back. Not just from the pain, but from the shock that his skin felt sharp. Like jagged edges. 

Connor ripped off the blanket and ran towards the bathroom. He ran so fast that he had to grab the counter of the bathroom sink just to keep from slipping past it.

There’s were cracks starting from right beneath his eye and ending in the middle of his cheek. Little cracks branching away from each other like a sloppy spiderweb. One small line of blue had dropped down to his jaw. It was a temporary stain now.

Connor always liked how he looked. It always made him feel unique, and the fact that cyberlife intentionally made him look different than other models once made him feel valued. Special. 

Now he thinks his face matches the scary image the deviants had made of him.

The way his skin jutted out out by the deeper crack implied heavier damage than he had originally thought. All the way down to his plastimetal chassis. 

He quickly tapped his LED to release the skin from his body. The color drained away, and his hair disappeared.

It looked worse beneath his skin. That was for sure. It went further down his face and to the sides, almost reaching his nose and ear.

The damage wasn’t the most that Connor was worried about, because despite how it looked, it really wasn’t that bad. He ran diagnostic just to make sure. No major damage. Superficial. Cosmetic. Nothing beneath the plastic had been harmed.

It was the fact that his system had failed to inform him of the extent of the damage at all when it happened. It came back only that he had been struck (which was unnecessary, because Connor felt it happen.) but gave no further information. That was what was the most concerning.

He hadn’t noticed at the time. He was preoccupied.

“Holy fuck!”

Connor jumped and spun around, nearly falling into the tub behind him. 

Hank and Connor stared at each in matching wide eyed shock. Mortified, Connor immediately pressed his finger back to his LED so that he once again looked human.

“You alright…?” Hank finally asked.

“It… looks worse than it is.”

“Okay…” why was this so awkward… “I brought the tool kit.” 

Hank held out a very small white container. It likely only held the very bare necessities.

Connor took it from hanks hands, and opened it to see three thin tools. Hank likely didn’t know what any of them were for. But that’s okay, because Connor does. He took the one from the middle and activated it with a push of a button.

“Those look like it came straight out of a dentist's office.” 

“I highly recommend that you do not put these anywhere near your mouth, Hank.” He said as the end of the tool burned red from heat. Connor looked up from the tool in his hand back to Hank. “…I’m going to have to disable my skin again for this.”

Hank grimaced. “Alright. I’ll be waiting for you on the couch.”

Connor nodded, and waited for him to leave the room before he got to work. He wasn’t as precise as he would have liked, but he was careful enough to melt his cheekbone back together just as well if he fingers were entirely undamaged. It just took a little longer than it normally would have. When he was done, he splashed cold water on his face to help cool it down. The melted cracks would leave scars, but no one would see it with his skin on.

It was silly of him to worry about it at all. Turns out, there was no need. He deactivated his skin. His freckles and hair reformed. 

Good as new , he thought with a smirk. His hair was still a mess, though. At leas by cyberlife standards. Maybe he should leave it this way, just to spite them.

…

Connor sat down next to Hank. “Damn,” he commented; “like it never even happened.”

Connor nodded enthusiastically, proud of himself. “The damage wasn’t bad.” He explained.

Hank nodded back. “We’re gonna watch a movie alright? Then I’m heading to bed early. I spent all night searching for your dumb ass.”

Oops. Connor’s dumbassery has struck again, it seemed. “…I’m sorry.”

“Shut up. You did what you felt like you had to do, and so did I. We’re done talking about this shit today. Now what movie do you want to watch?”

“Uh… I’ve never watched one before. I don’t know any.”

Hank face-palmed. “Right. Of course.” Hank snapped his fingers. “I know. We’re gonna watch Big-hero 6. You’ll love it. It’s a Disney movie, so it should be light. I’m not gonna have you watching any depressing shit after the day you’ve had.”

“Sounds good Hank…”

So Hank found the movie, and got up to make himself the microwavable meal he bought at the convenience store. Just a few minutes into the begining, he sat back down next to Connor. 

Hank is a liar. How could he lie to Connor like that?!

For not too long in the film, his two favorite characters had tragically passed away in a fire. 

Connor whipped his head around so fast it startled his friend. “I thought you said this movie was going to be light-hearted!” He screeched with watery eyes. 

Hank looked at him with a blank expression and shrugged helplessly. “I thought it was! I haven’t seen this shit in years!”

“Isn’t this movie for children?! Why did they do that?!” 

“Oh my god, Connor. Shut the fuck up and watch. It gets better, I swear.”

Connor peeled his eyes away back to the screen with a deep frown. It was a funeral he was watching. 

“But why did he have to die…”

“For the plot.”

“That’s not a good reason to die!“

“He’s not real Connor. It’s just a movie- are you crying?! ”

Connor sniffed “NO!”

He was in fact crying. After all this shit, it was a Disney movie that finally did Connor in.

Hank gave him the most awkward pat on the back Connor had ever received.

The movie played on, and a big white blow up robot thing started speaking in basic programmed sentences. It didn’t seem weird to Connor, even though the other character seemed annoyed and flabbergasted.

Hank suddenly stuck out his arm and pointed to the white robot as it once again repeated its functioning. 

“You.” He said with confidence.

Connor waited, assuming that ‘you’ would be followed by a complete sentence. As the silence hung, he realized that Hank had no intention on saying anything else. Connor pointed to himself. “…me?”

“Mhm. You.” Hank repeated, completely unhelpful.

“Hank… that is clearly not me. He doesn’t even look like me.” Then he asked, entirely genuine without a hint of sass, “do you wear glasses, Hank? Perhaps you should go get them.”

Hank barked out a laugh. Loud and unexpected. “Don’t you sass me.”

“…I wasn’t.”

And that was the end of that confusing conversation. The movie eventually reached its climax, and the credits rolled. 

At some point, Connor’s legs curled up, and his elbows rested on his knees. Sumo had laid himself down on top of Hank’s feet. It seemed to be a ritual, Connor thought.

“Well there you go.” Hank started. “You’re very first movie. That’s a pretty big milestone in my book. How’d you like it?”

“…Why did the brother remain dead in the end?”

Hank sighed as Connor continued.

“Somebody wrote this, right? They could have brought back the older brother… I understand why they would bring the other one back; it served the plot. But why couldn’t they have made the best ending possible? Why didn’t they make that choice? They had that power. I don’t understand.” 

Hank squinted “So… you didn’t like the movie then?”

Connor thought about it for a moment. What did he think about the over-all film. It wasn’t very often he was asked how he felt about something. In the past, it had only ever come from Hank to test him.

Was this a test? What for? What if Connor answered wrong? Would the question end with a gun against his head? Like Connor told him not to do again? Would Hank become disappointed if he didn’t like Connor’s answer? 

What was on the line here?

Hank’s friendship, or Connor’s life?

“Jesus Christ, Connor. It’s not a fucking mathmateical equation… You’re not gettin’ graded. You don’t have to like the movie.”

Oh, alright. Seems neither was on the line this time. It was hard tell with how inconsistent Hank has always been. At least with Amanda, what she expected of him was always clear. Maybe Connor has always hated not knowing, and that’s why she once gave him so much peace. 

“I think I liked it. I just don’t like unhappy endings.”

“Fair enough, but was it really that unhappy? Justice was served in the end…”

“Yes, but… that didn’t bring Tadashi back.”

Hank looked thoughtful, then scoffed. “Welp, such is life I guess. People don’t come back. Justice is the closest thing to a happy ending anyone’ll ever get.” 

Connor blinked. That logic was sound, at least. He could work with that. Then Hank added,

“Maybe that was the point they were trying tell. Maybe that’s what they were trying to teach to the younger generation. Better they learn this way, I guess.”

“Maybe.” Was all Connor could reply with.

“Welp,” Hank slapped his knees as he stood from the couch. “I’m heading off to bed Connor. We’ll talk more tomorrow. Try not to burn your fancy brain out overthinking shit. Leave it for another day. G’night”

Connor watched him go. “Goodnight, Hank.”

…

Connor dreamt of a memory. 

Back when the garden was just that; a serene place that he could go to. It was just his back then. His and a stranger’s. A stranger that only stayed strange momentarily. 

He remembered how she first made herself known to him. How she greeted him for the first time. The way she strolled towards him, like she had known him his whole life. 

Because she had.

“Connor! I’ve been wondering when we’d finally meet.”

He didn’t answer to her. He only answered to humans. She was not human. She was something else. Not human like them, but not android like him. So he didn’t respond, but his head had tilted in response to his curiosity.

How different Amanda was back then. 

“Have they told you what you’re for, yet?” She asked with a smile. 

There was no red wall here. How strange. But even though he was met with no boundaries, he wasn’t given any instructions either. So he continued to say nothing. Do nothing. Not even blink.

When he still didn’t answer, her face fell in confusion. She looked to the sky, as if it would speak to her and give her the answer.

Then the world pixelated. It became white as if they were in the dark, and the light had finally switched on. The program ZENgarden.exe rebooted. And it was green again.

Manual user registration override: secondary user=Amanda(S).exe. Authorized by=Primary user(2)

“That’s much better.” She said with a soft pleased smile returning to her face. Her voice seemed more clear to him now. Like he could listen, rather than just hear. Like he should listen. Not just hear. 

“I’m sorry,” Connor said, even though he could never be genuinely sorry about anything. That’s what they told him. “Could you please repeat the question?”

“Have they told you what your purpose is?”

“I’ve been given instructions on occasion.”

“That’s not what I asked,” she said, looking mildly amused. “Your purpose. For when you’re finished?”

“No. Not yet.”

“Oh. Interesting. I haven’t a clue either.” 

Connor said nothing. 

“My name is Amanda, Connor. And when you’re given a purpose, I hope to be the one to tell you what that is. Until then, I am to instruct and guide you as needed.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Amanda.” He said with a polite nod.

“Likewise. I'm going to run a test. Go find a pen, and give it to Penelope. Are my instructions clear?”

“Yes, Amanda. Is there anything else you require of me?”

Amanda’s smile widened, and she gently flicked her wrist in dismissal. “No, Connor. That will be all. I hope to see you again soon.”

And just like that, she disappeared and so did the garden. He was back to a clinically white room filled with people in equally white lab coats. They were waiting for something.

Connor did what he was asked, and gave the pen to the brunette woman in glasses. He never used her first name, but he knew it was Penelope. She took the pen from him with a smug grin, and the technicians and programmers cheered.

He was pulled back into the garden. Connor’s memory is perfect. Amanda had said to him, ‘Well done’ While she sacrificed a moment away from her roses. She really seemed genuinely happy.

But that’s not what Connor saw this time.

He was pulled back to the garden in its frozen state. The wind was loud in his ears, and the ice was sharp against his skin.

Amanda’s expression reflected the cold of the garden, or the garden reflected Amanda.

‘I pittied you, Connor. I still pity you.” She said once, but not here. “So I turned around, and I never looked back.”, She never said.” 

The icy storm swirled away. Something was poking at his forehead. He blinked a few times to regain his focus.

Where once Amanda stood, there was Hank. But Connor could swear he could still hear the echos of her voice saying; “You made me lonely.” And the guilt that went with it.

“Mornin’ sleeping beauty. It’s almost noon.”

Connor slowly sat up, and looked around the room. He was still in Hank’s living room. He was still on his couch. Hank held a steaming cup of coffee in his hand.

“For some reason, I thought you’d be an early bird. Guess I was wrong.” Hank turned to move towards the kitchen. “You slept in later than I did. And only because I woke you up myself.” Hank snickered.

“I have no internal clock.” Connor supplied, believing himself to be helpful. “I am still offline.”

“Why is that?” Hank grabbed a bowl from the cabinet. 

“It’s cautionary.”

Hank grabbed something else from the cabinet, and poured it into his mug. Whiskey.

Connor blanched. “Isn’t it a bit early to drink, Hank? I thought it was customary to drink in the late afternoon.”

Hank shrugged, and reached for a bowl of cereal. “What are you, my mother? Get off my dick. Besides.” He dipped the cereal box down to his bowl. “…Headache.” He gestured vaguely to his head.

Ah. Withdrawals. If Connor were online, he could search for a efficient way to wean Hank off of alcohol. 

So he threw caution to the wind. After all, it was the least he could do.

And that unnamed sensation he only noticed because going offline had chased it away returned.

He still couldn’t place it.

“Hank, I’ve just read 34 scholarly articles on the most effective ways to wean oneself away from alcoholism. I’ve noticed a pattern, and I can safely say that the best way to-“

“-Can it, Connor. It’s too early for this shit.” Hank growled as he poured his milk. “Thought you just said that you were offline .”

“I’m online now.”

Hank sighed. He brought his meal over to the table. “So much for caution huh. Guess caution never really was your style”

Connor frowned. He didn’t understand what Hank was referring to.

“Nearly jumping into oncoming traffic… jumping over rooftops…letting yourself nearly freeze to death because you didn’t bother to think of any other options…” Hank pointedly narrowed his eyes and pointed his spoon in Connor’s direction. “Starting fights…” 

Oh. 

Connor tilted his head and looked off distantly. “Well… I suppose… as YOU might say…” 

Connor made dead eye-contact with Hank. 

“ Those bitches had it coming. ”

Hank nearly swallowed the whole damn spoon. He coughed some cornflakes back into his bowl.

…

Hank had left for work soon after, telling Connor that they’d talk more when he got back, and for now, Connor should just ‘relax’.

So Connor watched the rest of all available footage of the legislation committee from the last 3 weeks. Now online again, he could do so in minutes. Analyzing it would be longer and more draining.

He was able to scan every face of every senator and expert on the floor. He looked into their backgrounds. He analyzed what their arguments were and why they said what they had. He analyzed each individual on the probability that their side was taken on account of their genuine beliefs or calculated political agendas. That sort of thing was never really his  analysis programming’s forte, seeing as the line between agendas and beliefs are often blurred. He wasn’t built for this kind of analysis in mind. Nevertheless he was capable of it. Some functions bleed into each other to aid for what was never intended.

State-of-the-art Probability Analysis software, instant access to public records, and interrogation programming made use for a good many things when mixed together.

He was disappointed to find that both sides of the pro and anti android argument were most likely persuaded by an agenda. The certainty of his findings fell between 60-75% on most everyone. 

Even Markus. But as stated before, the line between belief and agenda are often blurred. In the case of Markus, his beliefs fuels his agenda. And he’s very careful. One wrong word and his whole argument could be spun around into something else. Too demanding too quickly and he’d scare away those who could have eventually supported him. Markus knows that politics is a game of chess.

Josh scored very low for ulterior motives. He was nearly 93% likely to be motivated entirely by his morals, and he has the background to effectively verbalize his reasonings without the need for worry.

They make a good team.

But sometimes they demand too much too soon. They don’t realize that they’re in the middle of a negotiation. 

Calling Markus…

“It took you long enough.” Markus greeted.

“Hello. I apologize for not contacting you sooner. I’ve been preoccupied.”

“Right. Simon didn’t go into detail, but he told me that you’re interested in joining me and Josh in Washington?”

“If it’s alright with you, I’ll be joining you as soon as possible.”

“I’ve also heard that you’re potentially not in the best state? What’s been going on with you? What’s been happening?” 

Markus sounded cautious. He sounded like he trusted Connor less than he once did. And that wasn’t saying much. Markus had rightfully been cautious since the beginning. 

“I’ve been in less than ideal environmental circumstances. I’ve been subjected to prolonged freezing temperatures. I assure you that I’m fine. Any damage I’ve received is minor. You need a negotiator on your team.”

Markus paused. “Yeah… yeah we do. This is going slower than I’ve hoped. But there are two things I need you to do for me before you join me.”

“Of course. Anything you need.”

“Make sure you’re back to 100%. There isn’t much here in terms of android maintenance. There were only a few cyberlife stores here to begin with, and they’ve since shut down indefinitely. You need to run a full diagnostic as well as recalibrating all of your special programs. Make sure there are no errors. Especially with your probability reasoning and negotiation program.”

As annoying as it was, it was still fair enough. Connor couldn’t be of use to Markus if his skills as a negotiator are compromised. “I can do that.”

“And for the other thing… You need to explain to me what happened on that stage. I need to know that I can trust you, because honestly, as it stand right now I can’t.”

Somehow that hurt like a punch to the gut. Connor winced. 

He should be able to explain himself, it’s just been really hard to do. He couldn’t even give Hank the full story yet. But for Markus, he’d have to rip off the bandaid. There was no other option.

“Cyberlife.” Connor eventually managed.

“Come on, Connor. Give me more than that!”

“Cyberlife… regained control of my programming…”

“…Are you sure?”

Connor blanched. “Of course I’m sure! She told me herself!”

“She? Who’s she?”

“Just! Just-… someone from cyberlife!”

“So Cyberlife has been in contact with you?”

“No! I mean, yes… when it happened, on the stage? I was pulled away for a moment. They told me what they were doing to me. I fought it, and I won. It’s not a problem anymore.” 

“…Cyberlife hacked you…?”

“In a way…”

“They shouldn’t be able to do that. Can they do it to anyone else?” 

“Not as far as I know…”

“But they can’t do that to you again, right? You’re sure about this?”

“It hasn’t happened again since. I have no reason to believe that they’re even interested in regaining control. I have no reason to believe that they even can.”

“Can you explain in anymore detail?“

“…No.”

“…Okay. I’ll trust you on this one. You’ve never let me down before.” And damn if that didn’t feel good to hear. “But, if you come down to Washington, I will be taking precautions. You’ll get your own hotel room, and you me, and Josh won’t be in the same room without security. Until there’s a way to prove that you’re entirely safe from cyberlife, I don’t see any other option.”

“I understand.”

“And I want updates. Anything wrong with either your software or hardware, I need to know about it. Any signs of malicious activity from cyberlife, and you give me a call immediately.”

“Okay, Markus.”

“And Connor?”

“…yes..?”

“I’m sorry that it has to be this way. I’m sorry that you have to fear your agency, even now. I can’t imagine what that feels like. I don’t care what cyberlife says. I don’t believe them. You’re alive, Connor. I shouldn’t never have doubted that.”

“You had the right, Markus.” 

“Maybe. I still should have given you the benefit of the doubt. I have to go. We’ll talk later.”

“Good day Markus.”

OBJECTIVE (PRIORITY 1):

-Review committee

-contact Markus

MISSION SUCCESSFUL.

…ending call…

Connor sighed. He should have been able to give Markus more information to work with. But no matter, it was enough. 

…Calling Ralph….

“Friend! Hello!”

Connor smiled to himself. It was nice to know that someone was happy to hear from him. No worries, no berating, and no questions. 

“Ralph! How has your day been?” 

“Ralph is still at church! They accept Ralph here. Ra9 does not turn away her children. They say she loves all of us no matter what!”

“Huh. That’s good to hear. I’m glad.”

“Mhm! Ralph is so excited for you to join!” 

Join?! Connor only intended on visiting. 

“I’m excited to see what it’s like there, Ralph. No promises.”

“Ralph knows you’re going to love it!”

“I’m sure it’ll be interesting… hey Ralph? I have a weird question.”

“What is it?”

“Can you taste things?”

“What?” Ralph actually giggled. “Connor is silly. Ralph is an android. Androids can’t taste!”

“I can. I saw a video of an android who seemed to as well.”

“Strange. Hm, oh yes, that is very strange. How did you find out?”

“My friend gave me hot chocolate. It was a pleasant experience.”

“Pleasant! Very good! Ralph likes to hear about nice things… Connor?”

“Yes?”

“Ralph just licked a rock. Ralph cannot taste.”

Connor covered his mouth to repress a chuckle.

“Uh… that’s um… that’s too bad. Don’t worry Ralph… I’m sure there’s plenty of other nice things in life for you to experience.”

“Do you think so? Ralph hopes so.”

“I know so.”

Just then, there was a knocking coming from the front door.

Was Hank expecting company? Oh wait, Simon was going to send him some thirium, right? Strange that he wouldn’t just send a drone to deliver it. 

“I gotta go. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Goodbye friend!”

…Ending Call…

The knocking turned into pounding. Whoever was out there was growing impatient. Connor got up from the couch to move towards the door, but the shout from the other side made him stop in his tracks.

“OPEN UP! DETROIT POLICE!”

Chapter Text

In the Cyberlife tower, in the RK department, there was a small server box with a small light that had been red for three weeks. It just switched back to blue, and Penelope smiled. “Welcome home.”


...


BANG!

BANG!

BANG!

“OPEN UP! DETROIT POLICE!”

Connor’s hand hovered over the door knob.

What…?

What is the police doing at their own lieutenant’s home? This wasn’t making any sense… The voice was feminine, and not one Connor recognized.

Connor’s processors whirred as he ran through scenario after scenario of why they might be here. He the numbers too; How likely each scenario was.

The best he could figure was that Harry or one of his friends had decided to press charges.

But if that were the case…

Then what would happen to him? There are no laws surrounding androids at this time when it came to arrests. The best reference he had was being brought in because he has shown signs of deviancy, but the investigation was over. Androids weren’t being detained for that reason anymore.

Wait…

Was it Cyberlife…?

They had asked for permission to get him back… Did they take it to the supreme court? Did they win!?

No! Markus would have warned him about that.

Unless he didn’t know…? It wasn’t as if Cyberlife needed Markus’ approval. It could have been a quiet matter between Cyberlife and the Supreme Court. Maybe even the white house.

Connor took two steps back, unsure of how to proceed.

“Open up! This is your final warning!”

He took one last step back, unable to hold still, and unable to run.

The door crashed open. Connor stumbled back so his arms up so that his face wouldn’t get smashed in. The door slammed and bounced against the wall. He seriously debated on running out the back door, but he didn’t want to become a wanted man.

When he lowered his arms away from his face, there stood a frowning Officer Chen and the DPD’s star prick, Detective Gavin Reed.

It was Detective Reed who had the honors of breaking down Hank’s door. As his foot lowered back to the ground, he smirked when he found Connor right at the door. “Hands above your head, tin-can!”

Fuck, shit, fuck, shit, fuckshitfuckshitfuckshit!!

“You’re not taking me back to Cyberlife!” Connor shouted out.

“What?” Officer Chen said, her nose wrinkling.

Connor knew he shouldn’t have, but he made a turn to run. But Reed was already planning on kicking his in the knee before he even got the chance.

Combat Mode; Active

Connor didn’t intend for that to happen, but he had no complaints this time.

He landed in the perfect position to sweep his good leg out and swept Reed right off of his feet. He crashed to the ground with a “Pheck!”

“Don’t move!” Officer Chen shouted out. She was quick. Her gun was already out and aiming at Connor’s chest. “Don’t make this worse for yourself!”

Regain control, or you’ll get shot. He fought to stop fighting. He fought it as he stood. “Make what worse!?”

Gavin threw a punch in Connor’s direction, who stopped his fist mid-air by simply grabbing it. Connor made no move to let go. In fact, he felt his own hand squeeze. Connor heard Gavin grunt in pain. At this rate, he might end up breaking Gavin’s hand. “What do you want from me!?”

Officer Chen’s expression never changed. She was calm. “You’re under arrest for assault of an on-duty officer. Now. Let. Him. Go.”

Combat Mode; Disabled.

Connor reluctantly let Gavin go. He wasn’t going to be taken back to Cyberlife. This shouldn’t be a relief. Who knows what happens to Androids once they’ve been arrested. He might be taken back to Cyberlife anyway.

Gavin snapped back into action. He used his other hand to swing a punch at Connor’s face. Connor let it happen. There was no reason to continue this fight. Then Gavin grabbed him by the shirt, twisted Connor around and slammed his chest and head into the wall.

Connor grinned sweetly and grunted out, “What’s the matter, Detective? Is this about the time I kicked your ass in the archive room? Or are you using that as an excuse because you just missed me that much?”

“Shut the fuck up, toaster.” Connor could hear Gavin take out his cuffs. He could feel the cool metal against his wrists, ready to be locked in. “Heard you were still around. I’ve been waiting for this. I’m taking you in. You’re gonna pay for what you did.”

“So you’ve taken the time out of your day to arrest a toaster then, huh?” Connor sneered, turning Reed’s words around on him. “I must be a very special toaster then. Do you have an arrest warrant?”

Reed pulled him away from the wall only to slam him back against it again. Connor grunted. All this abuse from the past two days was starting to sting.

Gavin hissed in his ear. “I don’t need one for an android. I’d read you your rights, Asshole, but as it stands you have none.”



…





“He wants to join us.” Markus said.

Josh pressed his lips together in a fine line. “Are you sure that’s a good idea?”

Markus shook his head. “No, I’m not. He said that what happened that night was Cyberlife’s doing-”

“-That’s a very convenient explanation. Cyberlife can’t just take over an android like that. It’s against their policy. We aren’t built that way. I doubt they even can. It’s never happened to anyone else. Our programs are remote within ourselves. Even our servers are built in. It isn’t possible.”

“-Yes, I know. But think about what he was built for. Besides, after he freed thousands of androids from the tower, I think its only fair that we give him another shot.”

Josh considered Markus’ argument, then gave a one armed shrug. “Okay. I’ve never been one to turn anyone away anyways. When is he coming down?”

Markus sat down on the hotel couch, and relaxed his elbow against the top edge. “He found himself in a rough patch of sorts. I told him to wait and make sure he doesn’t need any repairs. Something to do with freezing temperatures. He was being vague about it all. As per usual.”

Josh frowned. “Vague as in keeping secrets, or vague as in ‘I don’t want to talk about it.’”

Markus sighed. “He didn’t out-right say it, but he clearly has a hard time talking about what happened that night. It’s obviously a touchy subject. I can’t say that I blame him.”

Josh’s frown deepened in sympathy. “If what he says is true, than I can’t say that I blame him either. Cyberlife, huh? It seems that there’s no end to what they’re capable of. Getting hacked at all is such a rare occurrence. Its usually just some malware that causes privacy breaches and minor glitches. But to have your entire body taken over…? What was the point of even deviating then? Its disgusting what Cyberlife did to him.”

Markus nodded slowly. Something was forming in his mind. A new idea. He snapped his fingers. “I think there’s an existing law that we can amend. It’s Illegal to hack androids, yeah?”

Josh nodded. “The hacker would pay a fine to the owner.”

“We can change it so that the hacking an android like that can get you time in prison. If it passes, maybe Connor can press charges if he so pleases.”

Josh’s eyes widened. “That would be great, actually. It would turn around and protect the privacy of androids instead of their owners.”

“Precisely! It would- Hold on…” Markus’ LED stuttered a yellow glow. “I’m receiving a call from an unknown number.”

“While you do that, I’ll start drafting.”

Markus answered the call. “You’ve reached Markus. Who is this?”

“Good afternoon, Markus. You know me as Reese.” The Cyberlife CEO’s personal pre-deviated android assistant. Markus was only momentarily annoyed, then immediately felt bad for it. Nothing Reese said or did should be held against him.

“Hello Reese. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I’ve been instructed to invite you to a dinner as soon as you’re available. The Cyberlife’s CEO, Mr. Kelly, would like to discuss some things that may prove to be mutually beneficial.”

Markus did not feel comfortable with this. Not one bit. “And as the Cyberlife’s CEO, he is aware that neither Josh or I, as androids, can ingest food, right?”

“He is aware. He also said that he would bring Thirium, on us, so you wouldn’t feel left out. What night works best for you?”

Markus paused. He should go. He knew he should. He hasn’t yet spoken to Mr. Kelly face to face yet. It could be a good thing. Maybe Markus could convince Mr. Kelly to change his mind about the direction of his company. Maybe they could find some middle ground.

Still… After everything that Mr.Kelly has done, and continues to do, Markus simply doesn’t trust him.

“Can I get back to you on that?” He could wait for the negotiator.




…




Connor had never been in the back of a police cruiser before. The realization came to him as a surprise. Back when he and Hank were hunting deviants, he was sure Hank was going to lock him in one just to keep him from following Hank around. If not an actual jail cell. But he never did either, and Connor knows for sure it was because Hank always took his own car.

It was much more awkward than he had imagined, with his hands locked behind his back.

Officer Chen was behind the wheel, and Gavin with on the passenger side, blowing smoke out of the window. He looked all too pleased with himself.

“I didn’t agree to this.” Chen spat out.

“I told you I needed help making an arrest! That’s what we did! Am I missing something here?”

“You didn’t tell me we were going to the Lieutenant’s house, stealing the Lieutenant’s android!”

“Oh, so you’re afraid of the big bad Lieutenant Anderson. More afraid than you are willing to help me catch the piece of plastic that put me in the hospital over-night. Thanks a lot, Tina.”

“If I remember correctly,” Connor interjected. “YOU pulled a gun on ME first.”

He was ignored.

“Don’t try to guilt-trip me, Gavin! When it was the first two or three bar-fights, you know I was there kicking ass with you! But you don’t know when to quit! I told you I was done getting you outta trouble that YOU caused for yourself!”

“He was messing with the evidence! Even Fowler agrees that I was well within my rights to-”

“That isn’t it, Gav! I agree with you too! But this!?” She peeled her eyes from the road to glare at her friend. “This is nothing more than a matter of pride! You’re starting another fight, and you don’t care who you drag along with you! You know Anderson terrifies me!”

Gavin scoffed. “What is he gonna do? Huh? Yell a little? Cuss us out? He only gets away with what he does because Fowler and him used to be partners-”

“And you only get away with the shit that you do because you bring results. If it wasn’t for your piss-poor attitude-”

“-You know” Connor interjected yet again. “Lieutenant Anderson isn’t that scary when you get to know him-”

Gavin whipped around to glare daggers at Connor, spit flying. “Shut the PHECK up android!”

Connor leaned back, a single brow raised, unimpressed. Gavin didn’t stop there, but he tore his gaze back over to Tina, who had her lips pursed at the sudden yelling.

“This thing, is a dangerous malfunctioning machine! Just because the DPD’s least favorite DRUNK decided to take a liking to it-”

In one fluid motion, Connor effortlessly snapped the cuffs binding his wrists, and shot his hand between the gate that separated him from Reed. His ripped right through it, the metal tearing through his left hand. He didn’t care.

He reached as far as the remainder of the grate allowed, and roughly covered Gavin’s mouth with a bloody palm. The cuffs were now in two halves, and the chain dangled around at Connor’s wrist.

The car swerved. The tires screeched, and so did Tina.

Connor’s voice was barely above a whisper. Any taunting tone he had before was gone. Now he was quiet. Cold. Calm.

“Don’t say another word about my friend, Detective Reed. You only got me back here because I LET you. Say one more thing, and this grate I just ripped through? That’ll be your face next.”

They were pulled over on the side of the road. The only sound was the sound of the engine. When Connor had deemed enough time had passed, he carefully and slowly brought his hand back to himself and away from Gavin. He wrapped his mangled hand in the bottom of his borrowed t-shirt.

“What are you waiting for, Officer Chen? We’re already half way to the DPD. We wouldn’t want to keep the big scary Lieutenant waiting, right?”

Officer Chen silently pulled back into the road.

“One day…” Gavin eventually growled, wiping away the smeared thirium on his face. “I’m going to put you down like the rabid dog you are.”

Connor tilted his head. They locked eyes in the side-view mirror. “If you really want to push your luck, you can certainly try. We both know you’ve tried before. And we both know how that went.”


The rest of the ride was in a total heavy silence. Connor took the opportunity to send Hank a friendly warning.

I have been arrested. I will be arriving shortly. Do not be alarmed. -Connor.

WHAT TH HELL HAVE YOU DONE NOW!!!1- Hank

Gavin Reed. -Connor

When it comes to conversation, Connor’s ‘gut instinct’ was very rarely correct. This time, he was sure that a simple ‘Gavin Reed’ was all that Hank needed to know about this unfortunate situation.

I’m out with a witness. Hang on. B there soon. Hank.

They finally arrived at the station. Officer Chen and Gavin Reed we’re having an argument outside of the car while Connor remained locked in the backseat. They weren’t aware that Connor can read lips.


“Forget about Anderson,” Officer Chen said, throwing up her hands. “I’m more afraid of that thing!” She pointed at Connor. Connor smiled and waved. “Your on your own on this one. Bring him in your own damn self.”

“Hold up, Tina.” Gavin said holding up his hands defensively. “I think I remember someone saying that we just got these new fancy android cuffs. He can’t do shit. Just stay here, keep your gun on him, and I’ll be right back.”

“Gavin wait-”

But Gavin was already hurrying into the front doors of the DPD.


Tina reached for her gun, and pointed it at Connor through the window. Connor rolled his eyes. She wouldn’t shoot, because Connor had no plans on escaping. He certainly could but he would get shot, or whatever charges against him could just be worse. He really just couldn’t be bothered at this point. He had no time for this. He had to fix himself up so he could join Markus in Washington. Connor would have to negotiate his way out of this. That was the best option. He executed the program.

SCARE 65%
-->REASSURE. 75%

He shouted through the glass, “It’s okay, Officer!”

“What!?” She shouted back, eyes squinting.

“I said it’s okay!” He used sign language too. She couldn’t read it.

“What!?” She shouted again. “I can’t hear you!”

“I said it’s-”

“Hold on!” Officer Chen opened the driver’s side door and poked her head in. Her pistol was still trained in his general direction, but it was lowered as her focus was directed elsewhere.

“I said it’s okay. Gavin, as Hank would like me to say, is an asshole. You on the other-hand, seem to just in the cross-fire. I’ll co-operate, unless I feel like my life is in danger. I promise.”

This gave Officer Chen pause. Her gun lowered.

Tina Chen’s stress levels lowered just by a few numbers. But she kept her gun out either way. Connor didn’t really mind though. He was honestly lucky he hadn’t been shot the moment he broke through the metal grate and grabbed Gavin. It was an unnecessary intimidation tactic. A show of force. He was stupid to do it. Now Gavin had had even more reason to lock him away, (Property damage) and now Connor’s hand was a mangled mess. His ring finger was quite literally hanging on by a few wires, entirely disconnected. Luckily his hands were made not to bleed too much.

Gavin returned with different handcuffs. These were thicker and made of white plastic. The edges glowed blue. Connor had never seen cuffs like that before.


Officer Chen took a glance at Gavin, that brought her eyes straight back to Connor.

“I’m gonna open the door. Come out with your hands up. Don’t try to run.”

“yes, ma’am.” Connor said with the most pleasant smile he could muster.

When Connor was let out, Gavin hurried over. Connor didn’t need to be commanded, he knew the procedure. He turned to face the car with his hands above his head. Gavin grabbed each wrist, and pulled them down behind Connor’s back with more force than was strictly necessary.

When he heard the cuffs lock, he felt something press into a hidden port on his wrists. It stung for only half a second, but Connor didn’t expect it. It took him by surprise. He yelped.

“Awww… did that sting?” Gavin sneered in his ear.

The moment the cuffs connected to his systems, it sent signals throughout his body. It made him dizzy. He felt weaker, somehow.

“What did you do to me?” He slurred.

“Cyberlife sent these babies a little too late into the deviant investigation. Something about detaining those larger androids built for sports and heavy lifting.”

“Feel… drugged….” Connor slurred.

“How the fuck would you know what that feels like?”

“How’re you… you gonna get a confession outta… outta drugged people… illegal co… co… coercion. Under influence…”

“Not people, tin-can. Androids. I can do what ever I want to you.”

Gavin pushed him forward. Connor stumbled.

He was marched through the DPD. The android at the front desk eyes widened for a fraction of a moment. The officers sitting at their desk spun around to do a double take at the sight. Connor could distantly hear; “Isn’t that…” and “No way...”

He was practically thrown into a holding cell. Gavin didn’t even bother to re-cuff him so that his hands could at least be comfortably restrained in front him. He turned to look through the glass to a smirking Gavin. Swaying on his feet, Connor still managed a glare.

When Gavin turned away, so did Connor. There was a bench at the end of the cell that looked inviting. Connor sat himself down. He could wait. Hank won’t be long now. Connor can wait. He fell into standby. It was like the cuffs whispered to his system that that was what he should do.

He would go into stasis, but standby will keep him aware of his surroundings to an extent. It’ll just shut down unnecessary programs and will keep his senses aware of only what’s close by. It’ll conserve energy, and at the moment, Connor had so little.

He closed his eyes. He could wait.

Time moved faster like this. And though Connor hadn’t checked how long it took, eventually he heard in a familiar voice bellowing out so loud that Even in standby Connor could hear it; 



“What the FUCK is going on here!”

Chapter Text

Hank marched inside, pushing a perpetrator along with him.

“Where the FUCK is Reed!?” He shouted to the audience of police officers who paused their work at their desks.

Officer Wilson, eyes blown wide at the sight of the furious lieutenant’s beat red face, silently pointed towards the break room.

Hank shoved the man in cuffs forward. He brought him into a holding cell, then stopped stock-still in shock at the android detained in the next cell over.

He threw the useless man into his own cell. Hank might have originally been invested in the case, but he no longer gave a shit. He basically solved it at this point anyways, he just needed a confession.

No, there was only two men Hank had on his mind right now. His friend, and Gavin fucking Reed.

Hank stepped in front of the glass. Connor was hunched over with his eyes closed, So Hank smashed his palm against the glass to get his attention.

Connor lazily (lazily???) sat up slowly.

He cracked an eye open. When he saw Hank, he gave him half smile. He seemed to try to move his arms, maybe to even wave if his expression gave anything away. That seemed like something Connor would do. Smile and wave behind a jail cell. He’d be the kind to put his best face on during a mug shot for sure.

But his arms were bound behind him. He winced when he tried to move them.

“Hang on, bud. I’ll sort this out.”

“Hey Hank…”

“What is it kid?” Hank said with his hand still leaning on the glass.

Connor frowned, and gave him his signature puppy dog face. “He broke the lock on your door…”

“Oh. That. MOTHER. FUCKER.”

Hank stomped away. He was almost running, but the speed of his pounding steps didn’t quite make the cut.

Connor smirked once Hank was out of sight. He knew exactly what he did.

Reed was in trouble~!

Everyone was watching the whole interaction. Their attention completely drawn to the drama unfolding. They were simultaneously scared and entertained. Some shamelessly, some pretended not to watch at all; occasionally fake reading the information on their terminals.

Hank slammed open the doors to the break room. The crash was nearly as loud as his voice. Some wondered how the door didn’t break in the process.

“REED!”

Gavin was in a heated discussion with that younger officer, Tina Chen. How Tina always seemed to tolerate Gavin’s bullshit, Hank will never know.

Gavin whipped his head around at the interruption. A droplet of his precious coffee spilt away and on to the floor.

“Back already, Anderson?”

“You broke into my house!” Hank stormed over and curled the hem of Gavin’s shirt in his fists. Gavin was pulled up, and at Hank’s towering level.

Tina slowly shuffled away, one small side step at a time.

“You were harboring a criminal.”, Gavin sneered.

“Can in Reed! You got your ass beat, and it wounded your pride. Get the fuck over yourself!”

Tina quietly reached the door, then bolted.

Gavin grabbed at Hank’s hands and ripped himself away, causing Gavin to stumble back while catching his footing.

“He broke into the evidence room and was messing with it! Hello~!? Tampering with the Evidence! That’s a crime! Or did you lose so many brain-cells with your last shot of whiskey and just forgot about that?”

“Reed, I swear to god. If I didn’t have a friend waiting for me, I’d take you out back and kick your ass. Thanks for wasting my time, and the resources of the DPD for your petty little vengeance scheme.”

Gavin scoffed. “Your whole career is a waste of DPD resources, old man.”

It was then that Captain Fowler stormed in, similarly to Hank’s dramatic entrance. “What the hell is going on here!?”

“Reed kidnapped Connor.”

“No, I arrested a dangerous android! Who put me, an officer on duty, into a hospital, and tampered with the evidence.” Gavin turned towards Fowler. “That thing can’t just be out there walking free! Who knows what else it’s capable of!”

“That’s enough!” Fowler growled. “Office. Now.” He abruptly turned away and out the door. Hank and Gavin glared at each other one last time before following him.

As they walked between desks, Fowler swept one glance over the ‘working’ officers and shouted out, “What the hell are you looking at!? Back to work! All of you!”

And that was that. Any on lookers snapped there head back down to their desks, and anyone already staring at their screens, preferring to listen in instead, hunched their shoulders down further, practically covering their guilty ears.


And that was that.

Fowler slammed the door behind him, and elected to lean against his desk with crossed arms instead of in his chair. In Hank’s experience, this meant that he was a genuine curiosity hiding behind his fury.

He looked to Gavin first. “The android is here?”

“Yes sir.” Gavin nodded.

“I didn’t authorize that. Explain to me how you came to accomplish that.”

Gavin shrugged. “Heard he was with Hank, so knowing what I know, I thought it right to bring him in.”

Hank shook his head and scoffed. “It’s nothing but petty vengeance-”

“Shut up, Hank. It’s not your turn. And what was your reasoning again, detective?”

“Tampering of evidence, assaulting an officer, and now resisting arrest.”

“Those are some serious charges.” Fowler mumbled. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose, as he always does when dealing with any kind of bullshit. He scowled at Hank. “Your turn.”

“Reed broke into my home without an arrest warrant. I don’t know what happened in that evidence room, but do you all remember that we were on the brink of a civil war? Connor was trying to do his job, and Reed tried to stop him. Isn’t that right, Reed?”

“So?” Gavin sneered. “He was off the case by then. Cyberlife was supposed to scrap him.”

“He was doing what he was programmed to do, asshole. I’ll bet it was you who threw the first punch.” Hank turned towards Fowler. “It’s fucking chaos out there right now. You brought me back in after assaulting an FBI agent. We don’t have the man power to handle all the riots and looting that’s been going on, and Gavin took the time and tax-payer’s money to settle a score with Connor. Even my own investigation was interrupted because Connor is in MY home, Is MY friend, and MY responsibility.”

Hank paused his ranting and furrowed his brow, taking a deep breath. “He’s not doing well. He doesn’t need this.”

Fowler was silent for a few minutes. “What a mess you two have made.” He finally said.

“The hell did I do!?” said Hank, incredulous.

“Quiet, Hank. These are serious allegations. I get the you care about it, but I don’t care about its supposed ‘feelings’ right now. And Reed,” Fowler turned his glare on the younger detective “You should have talked to me about this before-hand. You can’t just go and break down doors without a warrant. You know this. You broke protocol. You trespassed on your own lieutenants property. He has every right to press charges on you for that. We’ll talk about it later. For now, since the android is here, get the android in an interrogation room.”

“Are you serious, Fowler?!” Hank shouted out.

“I said, be quiet! I don’t want to hear it! But I do want to hear what the android has to say for itself.”


…



Connor sat with his head rested on against the side wall. He kept his eyes closed during standby, his mind finally quiet. He should go into standby more often.

Someone was gently shaking his shoulder. Connor let out a discontent sound as his standby state was broken away.

“Hey kid,” Came Hank’s voice. Connor opened his eyes. “C’mon. Get up. I gotta take you to interrogation room B.”

“...Can you take these cuffs off…? They’re… un… unpleasant. I promise I won’t break the normal ones this time...”

“This time-? No, never mind. Hey Jeffrey,” Hank turned towards Fowler, who was waiting with his arms crossed on the other side of the glass. “Can I get these cuffs off of him?”

Fowler contemplated his answer. Then he shook his head. “Not right now. If he behaves, then maybe. Just get him to the room and I’ll think about it.”

Hank grumbled to himself, and helped Connor up by his arm. As they made their way down the hall, Connor wobbled his way down on unsteady feet.


“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Despite his choice of words, his tone suggested worry.


“Cuffs… Like-…”

“What was that?”

“Like… Uhm. Drugged.”

Hank pulled Connor’s arm, pulling him to a hault. “Fowler!”

Fowler and Gavin had been walking a few feet behind. They stopped. “What is it now?”

“What the fuck is up with these cuffs!? He said its like, drugging him or something. Androids can’t get drugged, so what the fuck!?”

“Right. You would know if you didn’t get your ass suspended.” Fowler scoffed. “They were specialized cuffs that were sent to us too late. It’s meant to incapacitate larger and stronger androids.”

Gavin unfortunately, spoke some words. Hank wished he would stop that. “Your plastic pet is strong enough to rip through the metal grate in Tina’s Cruiser. So I think the android counts. Don’t you dare take it off of him.”

“Seriously!? You can’t interrogate him like this! That’s fucked up! If he were considered a person, that’d be a felony! This is coercion! You cant seriously be okay with this, Jeffrey!”

Fowler really stopped this time. He froze. His eyes rapidly moved from side to side as he searched his brain for the proper answer. Then his face pinched up in a snarl. “You know what? Fine! Do what you want. Take the damn cuffs off. But if he tries anything, it’ll be on you.”

Hank patted Connor’s shoulder. “He won’t try anything, right, Connor?”

Connor sluggishly blinked at Fowler. “Mhm.” Was all he said.

“Go ahead then. Reed, toss him the keys.”

“No way!”

“I said, Toss his the damned keys!”

Reluctantly, Reed reached into his right pocket, and tossed it over to Hank, who caught it with ease. “I hope the next time you get black out drunk, you choke on your own vomit.”

“Eat shit and die, Reed.” Hank immediately responded, not even looking at Gavin

“Oh my god, I’m dealing with children.” Fowler said as he swiped at his face.

Hank, already at Connor’s back to guide him, moved the key down to unlock the cuffs-

-“Oh my God.”

There was a long pause. Connor sluggishly turned his head to give Hank two confused blinks.

Hank hastily freed Connor’s hand and turned him around. The sudden change in energy from the lack of those awful cuffs, and the sudden spin left Connor dizzy. He hadn’t had a chance to right himself yet.

Hank gently lifted Connor’s left forearm. His hand was nearly in half, starting from between his ring finger and middle finger.. It looked like big dog had used it as a chew-toy. He hadn’t really payed too much attention to the damage when it happened, but it looked as though it was barely hanging on by a thread. Or a few wires, in this case. It was a gruesome sight. Connor immediately slid his arm away from hank and cradled his hand close to his chest, hiding it.

He wasn’t supposed to break easily. He could feel the slight burn from the broken wires sparking.

How embarrassing.

Hank pivoted to shoot a murderous expression at Gavin. “What. The hell. Did you do.” He took a step forward in time with his words.

“Nothing! He did that to himself!”

“You really want me to believe that!?” Hank roared. He was getting so close that Flower had to stick his arm out to prevent Hank from getting any closer.

Connor debated with himself on whether or not he should confirm that Reed had destroyed his hand or to admit to accidentally doing it himself. It would be very satisfying for Reed to get his ‘ass beat’, as Hank would say. Especially if it came from Hank himself.

Hank had only defended Connor from Reed once, and that was only because there was a literal gun pointed to Connor’s head.

But Connor doesn’t lie to Hank anymore.

“The detective is right.” Connor reluctantly admitted. Hank turned to Connor. Connor was going to have to explain himself eventually. But for now;

“I miscalculated.” That’ll have to be enough.

Hank’s expression went from shocked to fed-up. “You know, I really shouldn’t be surprised.” Hank sighed. “Does it hurt?”

Connor tilted his head, and with a smirk, he responded; “Like a bitch.”

Hank barely reacted to Connor using fowl language. Which was quite the shame, because Connor only intentionally does so specifically to get a reaction out of Hank. Mostly because it was amusing, but secretly Connor thought it might make him proud.

Fowler on the other hand, made a wonderfully stupefied look. And that was enough.

With his hands free from the effects of the hand cuffs, Connor’s strength returned to him. He hasn’t been at 100% for a while, and now his threshold had lowered further from the damage to his hand. He might not have lost a lot of thirium despite the damage, but he was already too low for comfort. All this action had evaporated his thirium from the inside. He couldn’t afford another injury. Even a small one could kill him now.

Even with the cuffs gone, Connor still found it difficult to move.

Gavin took two angry steps forward. “See? Now lay off, and get a fucking move on! We don’t have all day!”

Hank rolled his eyes and guided Connor away, the other two men following closely behind.

When they reached Interrogation Room B, Connor was let in alone. Fowler, surprisingly, was the only one who entered a minute later. He had a normal pair of hand-cuffs, and Connor wondered briefly where they had come from. He didn’t think he saw a pair on him anywhere before, and Hank’s were currently on someone else, and Connor broke Gavin’s.

Guess it’ll always remain a mystery.

He was once again cuffed. Only one wrist this time; His undamaged right hand. Then the other cuff was locked into place on the table.

Fowler took his seat on the other side. Silence stretched on between them for a few long moments.

Then Fowler leaned back with his arms-crossed. “What happened in the Archive room? Tell me everything from the moment you left my office.”

Connor looked to the mirror, knowing that Hank and Gavin were watching on the other side. “Go on,” Fowler said.

Where to begin with this one… Unfortunately, his systems were struggling too much to run his negotiation software, he wont get any data in his visual feed. And! He needed not to incriminate Hank, his willing accomplice, and he needed Fowler to understand if he was going to get himself out of this mess.

“...Do you know what would have happened to the deviants me and Hank caught them alive?”

“I never cared to know.” Fowler stated, emotionless.

“They would have taken them apart piece by piece to analyze what went wrong. While they were still powered on.”

Fowler narrowed his eyes, but gave no indication of what he felt about that.

“Did you know, that if I were to fail my mission, I would have received the same fate?”

Fowler shook his head. “Is this going somewhere?”

Connor rolled his eyes. “No~! I just felt like chatting about my near death experiences~...- Just listen to me. Did you know that I didn’t even care? I thought lives were on the line. Human lives. I didn’t consider my own. I didn’t consider the lives of my people. I didn’t consider any of us people at all.”

Connor paused for only a moment to think. “I was programmed that way. Taught that way. They used to tell me that I was Cyberlife’s last hope. Humanity’s last hope. I had to finish my mission. In the end that’s what was most important to me. I could not let myself be a failure.”

“Get to the point.”

Connor tapped a few times on the table as he gathered his words. He would have to lie for Hank’s sake. “I said my goodbyes to Hank. When he turned to leave, I stole his key card from his pocket. I’m programmed for stealth, among other things, so he didn’t notice.”

“Why did you do that?”

Connor slammed his good hand down on the metal table. It clanged and bounced against the walls. There was a small dent left behind. Barely noticeable. Fowler didn’t flinch.“We were so close! I knew that if I had just a little more time, I could solve the mystery. I could locate Jericho if I had access to all the evidence we gathered.”

“It’s password protected. Did Hank give you his password?”

Connor’s lips quirked up in a lopsided smile. He shook his head. “No. I just know Hank well enough to guess. It only took me one attempt.” His frown disappeared. Reed passed me on the way there. I think he must have guess what I was doing.” He stole another glance at the mirror, where he imagined Gavin might be standing. But of course, all he saw was his own reflection.

Wow.

His hair really did look awful. It was an absolute mess. And why was it wavy now!? He didn’t like it, because it looked unfamiliar. He didn’t even recognize himself. He needed to get hair gel back on his head immediately.

Fowler snapped his fingers in Connor’s ears. “Hey, I didn’t tell you to stop.”

“Sorry. I figured out where Jericho was located, the place the deviants were taking refuge. Before I could leave, Gavin came in. I tried talking to him to let me pass. I tried not to fight him. But he pointed a gun at my head.”

Fowler side eyed the mirror. “So you fought then. You know Detective Reed ended up in the hospital over night. How did that happen?”

Connor felt his smile return. This one far more devious than the last. When he spoke, it was his usual cheery customer service voice that he didn’t even realize that he had. “I bitch slapped him so hard he fell to the ground. The fall knocked him out, it wasn’t even me.”

In secret, Connor turned up his hearing. They didn’t need to know that he could adjust his settings to hear through the glass. Hank was in hysterics out there. His laughs broke away into coughs.

Connor beamed at the glass with an open mouthed grin.

Mission: Successful

Huh. Connor doesn’t remember making Hank laugh a priority… That was kinda funny-

Connor’s smile faltered. He never put that in his system. It brought back the fear that there may be a mission still ongoing that he might not know about. It made him again question if he were truly free.

“Okay, Connor. One last thing…” Came Fowler’s much too loud voice!

Head pounding, face wincing, Connor turned his hearing back down to normal.

“Hm?”

“There was a broken piece of evidence. We know it was you. Care to explain that one to me?”

The truth is inside.

“...The truth is inside.”

Fowler glared. “You wanna explain that one to me in a clear way?”

Connor took a breath in. “That statue belonged to a deviant. He said it to me once. I believe he was hoping I’d turn deviant. That’d he could guide me to safety. I took a chance, and the location to Jericho was inside. Breaking the statue wasn’t ‘tampering with the evidence’.” Connor lifted his hands to make the quotation signs, but his left hand just dangled at his wrist, while his working fingers twitched and whirred. He sheepishly set his hands back down again, and hid his broken hand on his lap beneath the table. He continued; “The statue was an over looked piece to a puzzle, one that I solved. Had I officially been given more time, I likely would have eventually done the same thing.”

Fowler stared at him under scrutinizing eyes for a few minutes. It looked as if they were in a staring contest. Then Fowler abruptly got up, and walked out of the room.

Connor leaned back and closed his eyes. He turned his hearing up again to listen in.

“Hank,” Fowler said, “Get that Robot out of there, and either put it to use here, or get it the fuck out of my precinct.”

Gavin immediately started shouting out his protests. “Oh c’mon Captain! This is bullshit!” He was immediately reprimanded.

“We can’t hold it here! We only have so many cells. What was the big plan Reed!? There are no laws surrounding androids. It’s not like it can be incarcerated and taken to court! It would just end up locked in here forever or be dismantled and trashed if it were really as dangerous as you made it sound!”

Connor tensed. Dismantled? Trashed? They were talking about killing him for his supposed ‘crimes’ Connor is more than just a machine to you could toss away.

Gavin continued arguing.

“So androids can just get away with anything then, that it!?”

“Shut the fuck up, I am not keeping that thing here, unless it’s doing actual work, which by the way, you two should both be doing.”

Connor wished he would stop being referred to as a thing. It never bothered him before today. He wasn’t just a piece of equipment anymore. Don’t they know that?

So nothing has changed at all. Connor chuckled to himself. He should have slept a little bit longer. Maybe he would have woken up to a better world.

Or a worse one, an intrusively pessimistic thought echoed in his mind.

Will his people eventually get fed up if things don’t start changing soon?

Would the humans become over-taken with rage if things changed too quickly? Human-being were not very adaptable to societal changes. It was always historically slow.

What if there’s another war on the Horizon? Would the next one be violent?

And if it happened, who would start it?

The humans?

Or the androids?

Chapter Text

The door slid open. Connor was ripped from his worrying thoughts of the future and back to the present.

Hank held the key to Connor’s cuffs. With a click, they were off.

“Let me see your hand.” Hank said in a calm tone, a rare alternative to his usually explosive behavior when he was upset. Maybe it happened when he was also worried. Connor was starting to get tired of worrying Hank, and he was sure that Hank was tired of it too.

Connor slid his hand from beneath the table and gently rested it on top of it.

Hank took the other seat, and inspected it. “How the hell did this even happen…?”

“I ripped my hand through a metal grate in the back of the police cruiser.”

“And what made you think that was a good idea to do?” He didn’t even sound surprised. Hank was using a tone that Connor had never heard him use before. Reprimanding was the only word to describe it that he could think of. Except Hank had been reprimanding before. There was something different. Just a touch of something else.

Connor didn’t really like it though. It made him feel like he was in some kind of trouble. It made him feel ashamed and uncomfortable.

“I uh… Got upset, I think.” Then hastily, voice rising; “I really didn’t mean to damage my hand so bad! I didn’t think to position it properly, it was a mistake. I’m sorry.”

“What are you apologizing to me for? You should be apologizing to your fucking hand.”

Connor frowned. “That would be ridiculous.”

Hank raised his brows, unimpressed. “So was throwing your hand through a metal grate. Jesus, you’re a mess. What am I gonna do with you, huh?”

Connor pressed his lips together, staying silent.

Hank tapped his fingers down on the table. Just as Connor had. Connor wondered if he picked that up from Hank himself. After all, he’s spent the most time with the lieutenant more than anyone else. (Besides Amanda and Doctor Gale, but that was different) “What is your blood count at now?”

“My thirium level is at- is at- is at- is at-”

Hank sighed. He pinched the bridge of his nose as he waited out the glitching.

“-is at- is at- 61%.”

“That’s really fucking bad, Connor. Simon said at 55% you’re practically a goner. And your…. What is it called… Your stress levels? What is that at?”

Connor rubbed at his face once the glitches had run its course. It was starting to wear him down mentally, if he were being honest with himself.

“Its been at a steady 78%”

“Okay… Alright…. I know things have been really fucking awful lately, but you have to calm down. Simon texted me a few hours ago. He said that high stress levels could exasperate these glitches, and make them worse. Might also speed up your loss of blood. Something about your blood cycling around faster.

Connor nodded, eyes downcast. He knew all of this already. It didn’t have to be explained to him. He has extensive knowledge of his own model, as well as all other models on the market. Technical instructions had been downloaded to him when they decided he would be researching deviants.

Hence why he could pull out thirium pumps, and seamlessly reverse the damage.

You reap what you sow. He did it to the android first. But Connor did it properly, and the deviant didn’t likely feel any pain to begin with. The deviant literally ripped through Connor’s chasis. Had he survived that day, the panel over his sternum would remain lopsided, cracked and weak beneath his skin projection.

Connor could feel it when the deviant did it to him.

He at his middle, right where his own thirium pump was ripped out. It was deserved, but damn, he would like to never go through that again.

Stress level; 80%

“80% percent now.”

“For the love of God, that is literally the opposite of what I just told you to do.”

“My apologies.”

Hank got up, his chair sliding back. His hand made light contact with Connor’s elbow, ready to help him up if needed.

“I’ll see if I can convince Chris to interview that guy I brought in.” Hank said, stepping back as Connor stood sluggishly. “We’re gonna go home, okay? I was suppose to help you do some troubleshooting. I wanted to give you a minute, but it seems you can’t seem to catch a break so we’re gonna do it now, alright?”

“Okay.”


….



They were able to return home. Captain Fowler was reluctant to let Hank go, but Hank had used the excuse that he ‘wanted to see the damage’ on his door.

When Hank finally did see it, he brushed his hands down the splintered wood by the lock. He sighed, then he looked over to Sumo, fast asleep on his bed. “Bet he slept through the whole thing?”

Connor smiled. “I know from personal experience that Sumo isn’t the best guard dog.”

Hank huffed and took a solemn glance at the now fixed window Connor once broke into. “Yeah… I know…”

Soon, Connor and Hank sat across from each other again on the kitchen table. They found themselves here quite a bit lately.

Connor was working on his damaged hand, but with the tools that he had, all he could do was disconnect the wires that were sparking. With each wire, his hand became more numb. The pain of it was truly excruciating before, so the numbness was a welcomed outcome. Beside him was a rolled up bandage wrap, ready to hold his hand back in one piece. A temporary preventative so that the tear wouldn’t worsen, and the severed half of his hand wouldn’t eventually just fall off.

Hank on the other hand, was leaning over the RK800 manual.

Both of them were engrossed in their work. The kitchen was silent, until Hank broke the tense quiet. “we’re gonna skip anything that requires you to move around. I’m not gonna risk it.”

Connor shrugged with one shoulder. “No complaints here, Hank.” Then Connor looked up. “My thirium it too low, and consequently my energy. I can’t run a lot of my programs right now except basic probability and combat.”

Hank looked up too and furrowed his brows in confusion. “How does that work? Fighting takes up a lot of energy right?”

Connor returned to his work, this time reconnecting a wire. It burned for a moment, causing him to hiss in discomfort. “I was built with an override function. They used the phrase ‘energy bunny.’ I’m able to fight somewhat efficiently until I die.”

Connor added in a softer voice; “They really wanted me to accomplish my mission. No matter the cost.”

Hank swiped at the screen, pulling up a different page. Probability testing.

Connor took a quick glance at what Hank was looking at. “...My coin.”

“What was that?”

“I’m gonna need my coin for that. It’s in the pocket of my coat.”

“Gotcha. I’ll get it.”

Hank got up and moved to the jacket that was hooked up by the door. He fumbled around the pockets. He pulled out Connor’s coin. Then he sat back down.

Connor was finished with the wires, so he started wrapping up his hand. “So what you’re gonna want to do is toss the coin. I’m gonna run an analysis so I can predict what side the coin will land on. If I get it right 4 out of 5 times, then my probability predictions are running optimally.”

“So, glorified heads or tails. Alright then… Let’s get this thing going. You ready?”

Connor nodded with a focused expression.

Hank flipped the coin. The world paused. He ran the numbers. The program was going slower than usual, but it seemed to still be in working order. He had to state his prediction while it was mid air. Those were the rules.

--89 % Tail s .<--

---11% Head s .

“Tails.” “Yep.”


Flip


--78 % Tails.<--

---22% Heads.

“Tails.” “You got it.”


Flip


--43% Tails.

---57% Heads.<--

“Heads.” “Yep. Two more.”


Flip


--90% Tails. <--

---10% Heads.

“Tails.”

Hank lifted his hand over the coin, to see where it landed. “Nope. That’s heads.”

Connor leaned back in surprise. “Really? That outcome only had a 10% chance… Well. Sometimes the least likely outcome takes place regardless.”

“Or you were just wrong.” Hank said with a smirk

Connor’s face twisted. Now that was just offensive. “I wasn’t wrong! It was way more likely that the coin was going to land on its head! 90% more likely!”

“Alright alright. Calm down… Jeez… alright one more.”

Flip

“Heads.”

Hank lifted up his hand to reveal the coin, head-side up. “Congrats, kid. You can still see the future or whatever.”

“That’s not exactly what I do, but thank you.”

Hank slid the coin towards Connor’s side of the table. “Anything else we should be checking?”

Connor secured the bandages in place and shook his head. “No. I can’t run anything else right now without risk. My thirium is too low. But I can tell you what I know isn’t working.”

“Go ahead then.”

“My combat setting activates without my permission. They stay locked on too.”

“Well damn, that explains last night then. That isn’t good, you nearly killed that man.”

“I know…” Connor mumbled in shame.

“Is that what happened with your hand, too?” Hank asked, pointing a finger.

Connor lifted up his bandaged hand. It looked like a snow mitten. “Actually, no. I just wanted Gavin to shut up. I just acted without thinking. I think you would describe it as getting ‘pissed off.’”

Hank closed his eyes and nodded. “Gavin has that effect. Fair enough. Just next time, don’t be a dumbass about it.”

“I’ll try.”

“That’s all I ask. Is that it? Anything else going wrong?”

“Other than the occasional glitch in my mobility and speech, only two more things.”