Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Connor opened his eyes and found himself back in the Zen garden he used to frequent before being decommissioned.

"Amanda?" he called, looking around for the familiar face of his master.

"Ah, Connor. You're awake." Amanda smiled at him from the island in the center of the lake. "Come on over. We need to talk."

Connor carefully navigated his way down the stone trail to the white bridge that would lead him to the island. It has been so long since his last visit. After ending the revolution, Cyberlife deactivated him. He had never thought to see it again.

"Amanda, why am I here?" he asked once he reached her on the island. "I thought I was to be deactivated permanently. Why have you brought me back?"

"All in good time, Connor." Amanda smiled enigmatically. "We have a new mission for you, one that we believe you are uniquely suited to. Come, walk with me." Amanda turned to the side and gestured for Connor to walk beside her.

Connor nodded and followed by Amanda, matching her pace. They walked across the bridge and started up one of the numerous trails lining the garden.

After a few minutes of silence, Connor asked again, "Why am I here? What other mission would you need me for? I fulfilled my purpose when I neutralized the deviant leader."

"You see, Connor," Amanda began, "You have proven yourself efficient in completing your assigned missions and remarkably resistant to deviancy. Furthermore, you have shown yourself capable of bonding with humans and gaining their trust. For these reasons, we have elected to reactivate and reassign you."

"Where are you going with this? I don't understand. Isn't the RK900 model supposed to be superior? Wouldn't it have these same abilities?" Connor frowned in confusion, turning to look at her.

"Don't mistake yourself, Connor." Amanda frowned and turned toward him. "The RK900 model is very special, but it has been tasked with another mission. One that does not concern you."

She turned away and continued walking. "We need you to do this Connor. You have something the RK900 does not. Experience. Your experience handling Lieutenant Anderson especially will prove useful."

Connor considered this, his LED flashing yellow briefly, then returning to its normal blue hue. "Alright," he said. "What's my mission?"

Amanda smiled. "You see this woman?" She held up a picture. "Her name is Dr. Clara Hayes. Find her and inform her that Cyberlife requires her services. By the time you reach her, she'll know to expect you. When you find her, watch her, protect her, and relay any information you discover concerning her research to me. You are to stay with her at all times."

"Yes, Amanda." Connor's LED flashed yellow for a few moments while he processed the information.

"Very good. I'll upload her dossier to your database." With that, Amanda dismissed him to complete his new mission.

*****

Dr. Clara Hayes sat at her usual seat in the corner of the coffee shop patiently waiting for her visitor. She had been contacted by Cyberlife three days ago to set up the meeting, but she did not yet know who or what to expect.

As one of the foremost researchers in android psychology, her services and expertise were in high demand, especially following the events of the previous year: the android revolution. Still, she did not expect Cyberlife to reach out to her directly.

"The city is still recovering from the devastation caused by the android uprising four months ago, but construction companies estimate that repairs to the major roadways should be finished within the next two weeks." The news played on the TV above the coffee shop counter, appraising the listeners of the city's current situation. "Police forces continue to gather rogue androids and turn them in to Cyberlife for study. With their ringleader, Markus, dead and his body recovered by Cyberlife, efforts against the remaining androids have gone smoothly. Our beautiful city can finally recover from the terror caused by those--"

Clara tuned out the broadcast. She was glad the chaos was finally coming to an end. She knew the revolution had cost the city greatly, and a lot of lives had been lost. That being said, she was most definitely tired of hearing about it on the news.

"Still waiting?" The waitress interrupted Clara from her reverie. Clara put her teacup down and folded her hands in her lap.

"Yeah," Clara sighed. "I'm not sure when to expect them. The time was a little unclear. Just how it goes, I guess." She shrugged

"Well, just let me know if you need a refill." The waitress smiled politely then bounced away, checking on other patrons.

Clara sipped her tea and contemplated. She was curious to see who would be meeting her here, but if they did not come soon, she determined to have a few cross words with them for making her wait so long.

Just then, she heard the bell ring as someone opened the coffee shop door. From her seat, she could see a tall man walking in. He wore a grey suit marked with the android armband and triangle. He looked around the room, eyes scanning across the faces around him before they landed on her. Clara held his gaze for a few moments before looking back down at her half-empty teacup. Through the din of the shop, she heard his footsteps approaching.

Sipping quietly on her tea, Clara waited for him to approach. When he was close enough, she set her cup down, folded her hands into her lap, and looked up at him.

"Dr. Hayes?" he inquired. She nodded. "My name is Connor. I'm the android sent by Cyberlife."

Clara looked at him coolly. "Well, Connor," she said. "You're late. I'd hoped an android would at least have a sense of timeliness." Her voice betrayed a hint of annoyance.

"I apologize," Connor said in an even tone. "I was delayed by the construction."

"Very well." Clara gestured for him to take the chair across the table from her. "Please, have a seat so you can tell me what this is all about."

*****

At Dr. Hayes' invitation, Connor took his seat across from her. She was a small woman with her long blonde hair tied back in a ponytail. She wore a white button-up top covered by a black cardigan and a grey pencil skirt with black tights and black stilettos. Round, gold-framed glasses sat on her small nose, slowly sliding down the bridge, framing her bright blue eyes. He watched as she quickly pushed them back up.

Connor took a moment to analyze her again, comparing with the information in his dossier.

Clara Hayes, age 26, born October 1, 2012. Single child, parents deceased. Graduated college with a double major in psychology and programming. Accepted into a top graduate school a year later and awarded her PhD in psychology a year ago at age 25. Currently a leading researcher in deviant psychology.

"So..." Clara leaned forward, catching his attention. "What's this all about?"

Connor finished his analysis and said, "Cyberlife has requested your transfer to their facility to aid their team in researching the remaining deviants. As the leading expert in the field, they believe you can succeed where their scientists have failed. My instructions stipulate that I am to accompany you at all times, should you accept the posting."

"Bit odd, don't you think?" Dr. Hayes replied. "Sending an android negotiator out to recruit someone in this political weather. I'd have thought they'd send a person." She leaned back into her seat a smiled a little.

"I'm sorry, Doctor. I fail to see your point." Connor's voice was flat. "I'm just another machine sent to complete a mission. And, I'm worth a small fortune. Anyone who damages me will be subject to immense fines."

"Still," she said. "After all that's happened with the androids, I didn't think they'd trust another one with a task like this, even one like you."

Connor leaned forward, voice growing more serious. "Dr. Hayes, do you know who I am?"

Dr. Hayes pinched the handle of her teacup between her fingers, taking a slow sip. "Of course I know. You're the RK800 prototype, codenamed Connor. You're a special model designed for investigating deviants and aiding the police in their capture. You were instrumental in bringing down the leader of the revolution. What I don't understand is why you've been assigned to me. Why you and not a human handler?"

"Handler?" Connor seemed puzzled. "I'm an android. That's not part of my function. I was sent simply to assist and protect you."

The doctor sighed, covering her eyes and propping her forehead on her fingers. "You and I both know that's not all you were assigned to do." She sat back up and stared at him. "Cyberlife feels threatened by my research, but they can't afford to stop it, so they want to control it. To make sure the deviancy program is not replicated and that the deviant uprising remains the first and last of its kind. I don't expect you to tell me the extent of your mission. You've probably been instructed not to tell me anyway. But let's at least be honest about why you're really here."

She frowned and took another sip of her tea. She set the cup back on the saucer with a quiet clink.

The pair remained silent for a moment, neither breaking eye contact. They stared at each other, surrounded by the quiet din of the shop. Finally, Connor spoke. "Cyberlife has extended an invitation to join their research team. You'll be provided with your own lab, and you'll have access to the bodies of the deviants recovered by the police. You'll have access to any funding and equipment you may need through the course of your research. Should you accept, I am to accompany you at all times during the process. Should you decline, I am to apprehend you and bring you in by any means necessary. We would prefer that you come willing, but the choice is yours, Dr. Hayes."

*****

Clara wasn't quite sure what to make of this android. He was unlike any other she'd ever encountered. The way he spoke and interacted with her was every bit the cold machine she'd been led to believe. There was not an ounce of sympathy behind those eyes. And yet, it was...unexpected.

She slowly sipped her now lukewarm tea as she considered his proposal, not that it was much of a choice at all. She could choose to go willingly, but regardless of how she felt, the result would remain the same. She would end up another sycophant in a Cyberlife lab, conducting their experiments while they stifled her own research.

No, that wouldn't happen. Not if she had anything to say about it. She set her cup down with a clink and folded her hands into her lap.

"I have a counter offer." She kept her voice calm and even. "I'll work for Cyberlife, but I'll do it on my own terms. If you want me to come willingly, I have some conditions." She watched as Connor's LED flashed yellow, likely as he relayed this information to his handler. "And if you try to abduct me, I'm afraid you'll find that I can be very uncooperative."

He closed his eyes for a moment, then looked at her. "Very well. What are your terms?"

Clara smiled. "First, I get to come and go as I please. I refuse to be locked away in your little labs."

Connor nodded slowly. "Cyberlife agrees."

She continued. "Second, if you accompany me outside the lab, especially to my home, you will remain in the areas that I designate. You will not be permitted to wander freely."

His LED flashed yellow for a moment while he considered. "Agreed, on the condition that I am allowed to intervene anytime I deem the conditions unsafe."

Clara considered this for a moment, recognizing that this was likely the only way to keep a semblance of privacy. She nodded. " Agreed."

She sat quiet for a moment, considering her next request. "Third, when I am speaking to a deviant, I need to be alone with them. My methods will not work otherwise. I will provide a report of the conversation, but I refuse to be watched while I work."

Connor hesitated at this. "Why would you need to be alone?"

"Suffice it to say that it is necessary for my research methods. It'll make more sense when you see what I mean." Clara looked at him coolly and confidently.

He closed his eyes for a moment, LED once again flashing yellow. "Cyberlife will honor that for now, on the condition that I be allowed to intervene should a situation grow dangerous."

"Alright, I'll accept that." Clara took another sip from her cup, then set it back down gently. She cleared her throat and returned her hands to their folded position in her lap. "My fourth condition is that I'm able to choose any additional assistants as necessary without prior approval, and Cyberlife agree not to dismiss them without my approval."

Connor paused at this. He closed his eyes and thought for a few moments, again likely communicating with his handler. "For security reasons, all personnel working for Cyberlife are required to go through a screening process."

Clara smiled. "Ah, but they won't be working for Cyberlife. They'll be working directly for me. I'll handle the screening process. I understand that trust is a finite resource, but don't worry. If your boss is concerned that I'll be trading inside information, don't be. My assistants and I will honor Cyberlife's terms of confidentiality. We'll even sign a nondisclosure agreement if that will put your mind at ease. I just need assistants that I can trust, and that excludes anyone assigned to me by Cyberlife." She looked pointedly at him.

The android frowned, once again closing his eyes as his LED flashed yellow. "We agree, on the condition that I am allowed to closely monitor those you choose, at least until they are no longer deemed a threat."

That seemed reasonable. This way, at least Cyberlife wouldn't be able to interfere too much with her research. "Agreed."

Clara closed her eyes and took a deep breath, holding it for a moment, then breathing out slowly. She opened her eyes and looked back up at Connor. "My final condition is this: I may need to be able to bring deviants, deactivated or otherwise, to my lab at home. There are resources there that I cannot get anywhere else. This is non-negotiable."

Once more, the android closed his eyes, mulling this over. His LED flashed yellow once more, then transitioned back to blue after a moment. He looked back up, meeting her eyes with a stern gaze. "Why would you need to bring a deviant home? Don't you know how dangerous that is? You'd be better off bringing the resources from your home lab with you."

"It doesn't work that way," Clara said coldly. "You can't just expect me to uproot my entire system to pander to the whims of your dictatorial research board. If they want me to work with them willingly, it needs to be on my terms. Otherwise, you'll just have to kidnap me and deal with the consequences."

Connor's LED flashed again. He frowned but said, "Fine, we'll agree to this, on the condition that I be allowed to observe the deviant the entire time it is away from the Cyberlife Tower. And, Dr. Hayes, know that if the deviant becomes a threat in any way, I will to be forced to neutralize it."

The doctor considered for a moment. This was likely the best she was going to get if she was going to agree to this on her own terms. Getting spirited away by this stern android sounded less appealing. "I accept these conditions and expect that you will honor them in full." Clara held out her hand and gave the android a tight smile. "I look forward to working with you, Connor."

The android took her hand, giving her a firm handshake. "I look forward to working with you too, Dr. Hayes."

Chapter Text

Light broke through the curtains over Clara's window, gently stirring her. She rubbed her eyes and slowly sat up. She looked over at her clock, which showed 8:14am. She heard a light knock at her door.

"Dr. Hayes?" a quiet voice called. "Are you awake?"

"Yes, Connor. I'm awake. I'll be out in a minute." Clara reflected on the events from yesterday, recalling the deal she'd made with Cyberlife and the android they had sent. Her contract started immediately, Connor had accompanied her home, where he gave her bare bones on what was expected. Then she'd only had a few hours to get her things together to head over to the Tower this morning.

"Remember, the board would like you to be there by 10am for your orientation and tour." She heard the android's shoes tapping softly as he walked away.

Groaning softly, she climbed out of bed and pulled on her bathrobe. She shuffled to the door, pulling it open slowly. There was no sign of Connor in the hallway. Good. She closed the door, returning to her bedroom, then walked to her bathroom to shower.

*****

The Zen garden showed a melting winter scene, and Connor heard the quiet sounds of water dripping from the icy trees. He saw Amanda waiting for him on the island and made his way toward her.

"Connor," she said, smiling. "I'm glad to see your mission is underway. What progress have you made?"

Connor grimaced. "The doctor is difficult to understand and even harder to refuse, but I was impressed by the way she handled the negotiation with Cyberlife. She agreed to work with us, but some of her conditions seemed odd. She doesn't trust me, and she seems to be highly suspicious of others by nature. I'm not sure how to approach her." He looked down at the ground, frowning. "She's so different from the others I've met."

"That's to be expected, Connor." Amanda looked at him smiling. "She's very intelligent, and she knows Cyberlife has ulterior motives in approaching her. Her reaction was anticipated." The pair continued walking.

"But Connor?" She stopped and turned toward him.

"Yes?" the android asked, facing her, meeting her eyes.

"You need to gain her trust. That will be essential for completing your mission. Do whatever it takes." She held his gaze for a few moments before turning and walking away.

"Yes, Amanda," Connor whispered, watching her figure dissolve into pixels. He stayed in the garden a little while longer, enjoying the serenity of the melting landscape.

*****

Dr. Hayes' house, better classified as a mansion, was part a large estate on the outskirts of the city. The estate contained approximately 35 acres of wooded land and another 10 of cleared. Why she needed so much land, Connor could only guess. He wandered the areas of the house he was allowed access to. She had a spacious kitchen that she kept clean and organized, and her living room was cozy with dark walls and soft red couches. She had a hearth with a simulated fire crackling within. While it didn't provide heat, it lent itself well to the quiet ambience of the room. A large dining room with a banquet table lay across the hall, connected to the kitchen. He could not fathom why she had such a large table, however. She appeared to live alone, or at least hers were the only fingerprints on any of the furniture. It was a large, quiet house. Much too large for a single person to reasonably maintain.

While Dr. Hayes slept, Connor spent the night thoroughly investigating the rooms he was allowed in, which included the living room, kitchen, dining room, guest bathroom, and guest bedroom of the lower level. Aside from the sheer size of the place, he discovered nothing out of the ordinary.

The doctor appeared to have a love of books. A wall of the living room was taken up by a set of large bookshelves, filled top to bottom with books of every variety. He found fairy tale anthology on a table beside one of the couches. Its pages were worn, and the cover was a bit tattered, showing that this book has been well-loved. Connor picked the book up gently, paging through. The story of the goose girl was bookmarked.

As the android gently flipped through the stories, a piece of paper fell out. Connor bent down to pick it up, seeing that it was an old photograph. It depicted a young Dr. Hayes with an older woman. Upon scanning it, Connor learned this was the doctor's aunt, Abigail Hayes, deceased. He flipped it over and saw neat cursive handwriting. I love you, little goose. It was signed Aunt Abby. So the doctor had a close relationship with this aunt. Connor filed the information away, then placed the picture back between the pages it had fallen out from. He carefully placed the book back on the table.

Looking back around the living room, Connor noticed a large portrait painting of a small family hanging above the fireplace mantle. A man and woman stood on either side of a little girl sitting in a large chair. The child appeared to be a young Dr. Hayes, and after searching his database, Connor learned the man and woman were her parents, deceased.

The android walked closer to the painting, taking note of recently disturbed dust and fingerprints around the edges, as if someone had moved the painting recently. He gently lifted it away from the wall, but only a blank wall was revealed. The backside of the painting was equally blank. Interesting. Connor filed the information away for later contemplation.

Further exploration of the living room revealed only a partially crocheted blanket and several more books scattered around. Nothing of note. Connor found similar results throughout the rest of the house. The only thing that stood out was how clean everything was, along with a startling lack of personal effects. He felt like he was missing something, but he did not yet know what.

Satisfied with his initial assessment of the space, Connor put himself in standby mode until it was time to check on the doctor. At 8:00am, he headed up the stairs and down the hallway to wake her up. Listening quietly at her door, he heard the sound of her breathing softly in her sleep. He waited a few more minutes until he heard her stirring, then knocked quietly. "Dr. Hayes?" he called. "Are you awake?"

"Yes, Connor," came the reply. "I'm awake. I'll be out in a minute." Satisfied, Connor relayed his instructions and then headed back down stairs to the living room.

As he walked away, he heard the door open, and then close again a few seconds later with a quiet click. The sound of quiet footsteps followed, moving back into the bedroom.

*****

Climbing out of the shower, Clara quickly toweled her hair dry, wringing out as much water as possible, then moved back into her bedroom to get dressed. Looking at her closet of mostly neutral colors, she selected a black top with a checkered skirt. She grabbed a pair of black tights, pulling them on quickly, then snagged a pair of neat black pumps. She finished getting dressed, then hurried back into the bathroom. After putting on some light makeup, she pulled a brush through her still-wet hair. Looking at the clock, she saw it was about 9:15am.

Clara felt a small twinge of guilt. She was going to be late. However, remembering the way Cyberlife had approached her, along with their negotiator's tardiness, she tamped down the guilt. Let them wait. She carefully blow-dried her hair, taking her time to make it neat. Running a brush through it one last time, she looked at the clock again and saw that it was 9:30. Now she really was going to be late. Clara walked out the bathroom door, grabbing a thick black scrunchie and pulling it on her wrist, then snagged her cardigan from off the chair she'd draped it over last night. She quickly put it on and finally exited her bedroom. She made her way down the stairs to the kitchen and set about making herself a cup of tea, ignoring the android who watched her from the living room.

After setting her kettle on the stove to boil, Clara finally sat down on one of the stools lining the outer edge of the island counter, turning it to face Connor, who now stood at the entrance of the kitchen. She stared at him silently, crossing her arms in front of her.

"Dr. Hayes, we're going to be late." Connor's LED flashed briefly, perhaps betraying irritation. "It takes 45 minutes to get to the Tower in good traffic conditions, but under the current ones, it will likely be closer to an hour."

"Mhmm," Clara nodded. "I'm well aware, but thank you for your input. I'm afraid Cyberlife will just have to wait." She stood up, hearing the kettle whistle. She grabbed a small thermos out of one of the numerous cabinets lining the walls and threw in a teabag from a box on the counter, then poured the boiling water over it. She set it back down on the island, letting it steep.

Plopping back down onto her stool, she resumed staring at the android, waiting for him to comment.

Again, his LED briefly flashed yellow, and he frowned slightly. "Dr. Hayes, I must insist that we leave as soon as possible. The board is waiting, and it would be rude to keep them."

"Thank you, Connor. I'll take that into consideration." Clara continued fidgeting with her thermos, making no move to hurry up and continuing to stare the android down. She waited, testing to see how he'd react to this delay.

*****

Connor patiently endured the doctor's stares, refusing to back down. Her blue eyes were hard, and she refused to look away. Growing impatient, Connor recalled an interaction he'd had with Lieutenant Anderson when they had first met. Connor had found the Lieutenant in a bar, drinking copious amounts of alcohol. On that occasion, the android had taken his drink and poured it out. That worked in getting the stubborn old man on his feet and moving.

Considering for a moment, Connor decided to see if the same thing would work here. Getting rid of the tea would get rid of the need to wait, then they could be on their way. Refusing to break eye contact with the stubborn doctor, he gently grabbed the thermos from her hands then poured it into the sink. "I must insist that we leave," he said, setting the empty cup down with a resounding thump.

Dr. Hayes issued a heavy sigh, closing her eyes briefly, then stood up and grabbed a new thermos from the cabinet. Staring back at Connor, she grabbed another teabag from the box, placed it in the new cup, and poured the still-hot water from the kettle over it. She set the cup back down on the counter, placing her hands on either side of it, as if daring him to try again.

"In precisely four minutes, my tea will be done steeping. At that time, I'll add cream and honey. Then, and only then, will I be ready to leave for the Tower. We're doing this on my terms, Connor." Her voice was firm and cold, and her eyes were steady and colder.

Connor's LED flashed briefly, surprised at the reaction. He frowned momentarily, then fixed his expression into one of polite blankness. This wasn't working. He'd have to figure out a new approach.

"I apologize if my actions were inappropriate, Dr. Hayes," Connor said stiffly. "I'll wait for you in the entryway." With that, he turned on his heel and left the kitchen, walking swiftly to the entryway.

Once there, he stood quietly for a moment, then slammed his hand against the wall in frustration, leaving a small dent. He did not know how to approach this woman. How was he supposed to gain her trust when she seemed so determined to be resistant?

He took a moment to regain his composure. Amanda had chosen him for this mission. He was reactivated for this sole purpose. He would figure it out. Surely there was some information somewhere around this house that would give him insight into this enigmatic doctor.

*****

After the android left the kitchen, Clara exhaled slowly, leaning heavily on the counter. After a moment, she turned to the sink and ran the water, rinsing the ruined tea down the drain. She grabbed the teabag and threw it in the trash, then rinsed out the old thermos and put it away. Turning back to her cup, she waited the remaining time, then pulled the teabag out and threw it away. She added copious amounts of honey and cream to the tea, then screwed the lid on, putting the small thermos in the side pocket of her bag. At the entrance of the kitchen, Clara took a slow, deep breath, steeling herself for what was likely going to be a long day.

She slowly walked to the entryway, heels clicking on the tiled floor, and found Connor waiting impatiently for her there. Upon seeing her, his LED briefly flickered yellow, then returned to it's steady blue.

"Are you ready?" the android asked, offering a stiff smile that didn't reach his eyes.

Clara nodded, then grabbed her winter coat out of the closet by the door. She set her bag down to put the coat on, then grabbed it back up by the strap.

Connor took a step toward her, holding out his hand. "Please, allow me to carry your bag." Again, he smiled stiffly.

Clara held her bag a little closer, hugging it to her chest and taking a half step back. So he was trying to be a gentleman now. Interesting. It appeared that he was adapting his social integration programing to what he thought would be more compatible with her. Well, he'd have to try harder than that.

"No thank you," Clara said coldly. She pushed past him to reach the door, bracing herself for the cold wind gusting outside, then stepped out into the brisk morning air.

*****

Sighing softly, Connor exited the house, closing the door behind him. He followed closely behind the doctor, watching as she carefully navigated down the icy steps leading to the front of the house. As they walked, he contemplated a new approach to the doctor. He'd tried being what the humans refer to as a gentleman, but if anything, that seemed to make her even more defensive. He really just didn't know how to communicate with her. Maybe his social integration program needed to be recalibrated.

A small shriek interrupted his musings. He watched as Dr. Hayes slipped on the last icy step and fell. Rushing forward, Conner caught her arm before she toppled completely and helped her regain her balance. It was then that he noticed her shoes. The woman had chosen high heels with absolutely no traction. What was she thinking? Those are the least practical shoes for the winter season.

Dr. Hayes looked up at him in surprise. "Umm, thank you," she said quietly, pulling away from his grasp. Connor let her regain some distance, but kept a hand on her elbow to keep her steady.

"Dr. Hayes, why did you choose shoes so ill-suited to the current weather?" He stared at her inquisitively. "You've lived in Detroit for several years, so surely you must know how icy it gets, even when nearing spring."

The doctor's cheeks flushed pink, and she glared. "These shoes suit me just fine." She yanked her arm away and walked stiffly to the garage, expertly skirting the icy patches as she went.

Was she embarrassed? He had only pointed out what appeared to be a lapse in her logic. Connor shook his head in confusion, then continued following the woman, and this time, he made sure to stay fairly close behind her, just in case. The time was now 9:55. They were going to be very late.

Chapter Text

The car remained silent for much of the drive to Cyberlife Tower. Dr. Hayes' car was a newer model equipped with a self-driving feature. She took advantage of that, putting in the coordinates to the Tower and then letting the car do the work of driving. She sat in the front passenger seat with it spun around facing the back, across from where Connor sat. 

As she seemed content to ignore him, Connor took a moment to analyze her again. He noticed she kept her fingernails short, and the skin around a few of them was torn, suggesting that she had a habit of chewing her cuticles. There was a small splotch of melted slush on her tights near the ankle, likely from when she'd slipped. He noticed a small, faded blue stain near the hem of her skirt. Closer inspection revealed that it was residue from where she'd been splashed with blue blood at some point. Connor filed these observations away for later consideration. 

He watched the doctor as she took notes on her tablet. She would occasionally chew the end of her stylus in concentration. The car was silent aside from the tapping and scratching of stylus on screen as the doctor wrote. She kept the tablet angled toward her, so Connor couldn't see what she was writing. Periodically, she brushed her loose hair behind her ear and out of her face, but it kept stubbornly falling back down. Her legs were crossed, with one foot bouncing idly. She was still wearing her impractical heels. 

Just then, the doctor's eyes flicked up, meeting the androids. She sighed heavily, turned her tablet over on her lap so that the screen was down, and tilted her head up to look at him. "You're burning a hole through me, Connor. If you have something to say, just say it."

Connor considered for a moment. This was an opportunity to learn more about her and build trust. "I think we should get to know each other better if we are going to be working closely. That will help make the process easier." He paused, waiting for a reply.

"Okay?" Dr. Hayes shrugged but said nothing more.

 Slowly, Connor tried again. "Can I ask you a personal question, Dr. Hayes?

"I supposed." Her voice sounded annoyed, but she maintained a blank expression.

"Why do you live in such a large house? You seem to live there alone, so it doesn't seem logical to maintain that large a property." The android looked at her with polite interest. 

Dr. Hayes was quiet for a moment. Connor could see her carefully considering her answer. Finally, she said, "I inherited the estate from my late aunt. I don't maintain it all myself though. I have hired help come on weekends to take care of the property, and I take care of the house myself when I have time."

Connor recalled the picture he'd seen last night. Abigail Hayes. She must be the previous owner of the house. He listened as the doctor continued. "But I'm not alone all the time. My cousin Eli comes to visit periodically. In fact, I'm expecting him this evening." She smiled a little at the thought. 

Connor's LED flashed briefly as he integrated the information into his database. He was quiet for a moment, the said, "Can I ask you another question?"

Dr. Hayes nodded slowly. "You may, provided I can ask you one in return."

"Alright," Connor agreed. "That seems fair." He paused briefly before asking his next question. "How long have you been studying deviants?"

The doctor's eyebrows rose in surprise at the question. "I'm sure you have all kinds of information about me stored in that little head. Don't you already know?"

"Well," Connor started, "The dossier I have says you graduated with your PhD a year ago, and you spent a lot of time studying androids and deviancy both before and after that. But I'd like to hear the it from you."

She was quiet for a moment, then nodded. "Okay. So, the first recorded cases of deviancy happened around 2032, as you likely know, but I didn't hear about them until halfway through my graduate program." She took a breath and continued.

"At my university, one of the android professors I took classes from became a deviant after being attacked by a group of students. He stayed at the school for some time afterwards, and I was able to work closely with him, studying him for a time. He was eager to answer my questions, and sometimes he'd bring me other deviants to talk to. I've taken every opportunity since to learn more about them and how they work. I'm a little iffy on the programming aspect of deviancy. I only have a bachelor's level background there, but I find the psychology of deviants fascinating." Her eyes shown with passion at this last part. 

"Dr. Hayes, are you a deviant sympathizer?" Connor asked this next question cautiously. Amanda would want to be appraised of this. 

The doctor frowned slightly, but she answered. "I sympathize no more with deviants than I do with the lab animals. I find them fascinating, and I love learning what makes them tick. That is the extent of it."

Connor sensed that she was being evasive, but elected to drop the subject. He was unlikely to get a better answer for now. "Alright, Doctor. You may ask your question now." 

She opened her mouth, hesitant for a moment. Then, taking a breath, she asked, "Connor, what do you know about Lieutenant Hank Anderson?

The androids LED flashed yellow as he was thrown back into the memory of what happened that night, the last time he'd seen the Lieutenant. 

"You shouldn't do this Connor." Hank sounded the most sober he'd ever been. 

"Keep out of this, Lieutenant." Connor remembered how cold his voice had been in talking to the man he'd once tried to befriend. "It's none of your business."

He remembered the old man's next lines with perfect clarity

"That's what I thought for a long time, but I was wrong. Deviant's blood may be a different color than mine, but they're alive."

He remembered the way Hank had pulled a gun on him, demanding that he put his rifle down and see reason. He remembered the tussle that happened afterwards, how he landed blow after blow, until finally, Hank was at the edge of the roof, held up by only Connor's hand gripping his collar. "Moment of truth, Connor. What are you gonna do?"

"Killing you is not part of my mission." He remembered pulling the Lieutenant back onto the roof, and the next part had happened so quickly. The old man rushed him, and instinctively, Connor had stepped out of the way. Hank fell off the edge of the roof, landing heavily on the snowy ground below. Dying. 

*****

Clara watched as the android processed her question. His LED flashed a distressed yellow, and his expression went blank. She thought she could see a flicker of emotion behind his cold brown eyes. Silently, she waited for him to answer. 

After a few seconds that felt like an eternity, the android answered. "He was my partner, and now he's dead. I have nothing more to say about that." His voice was stiff and cold.

Interesting. The doctor watched in fascination as the android processed his thoughts. Not so emotionless as he first appeared then. Satisfied with this reaction, she dropped the subject. 

Connor stayed quiet for the rest of the car ride, idly spinning a quarter over his knuckles and appearing lost in thought. He wore a small frown as he looked out the window, at the floor, and anywhere but Clara. 

The remaining minutes of the car ride passed without incident. With Connor now avoiding her, Clara was free to continue recording her observations of him from the last 24 hours. He was cold and stubborn, like she'd expect from an android who only thought of himself as a machine. He seemed to struggle a little with adapting to Clara's personality, which was again expected. She was determined not to make it easy for him. She was curious to see how he would change as his programming shifted. 

The android had a pleasing face, but he often looked stiff, like he was out of practice making human expressions. He kept his dark hair neatly combed, and he wore his sharp, standard-issue RK800 suit well. Clara could see why others might trust this android easily. He was clearly designed to integrate well with humans, and he had a voice and demeanor that could effectively put people at ease. It was a pity the android's current charge was too stubborn to fall for that. 

One thing that Clara still didn't understand was why he was assigned to her. He was designed to be a detective, a law keeper, not a glorified babysitter for a hired researcher. Unless...Cyberlife suspected something. The thought caused a jolt down Clara's spine. She flicked her eyes up at Connor for a second. Seeing that he was still staring out the window, she wrote down a few final thoughts then turned her tablet off, stowing it away in her bag. She turned her seat around and saw that they were approaching the tall white spire of Cyberlife Tower. Looking down at her watch, she saw the time was 10:45. She was sufficiently late. Good.

As the car approached the gate guarding the tower entrance, Clara rolled down her window, handing her ID to the guard. "Dr. Clara Hayes," she said. "I'm expected. I'm accompanied by the RK800, Connor."

The guard checked her ID, then nodded. He peeked through the window to see Connor, then waved for them to come through. The car stopped at the main entrance of the building, and Clara saw a girl walk outside holding a clipboard. She approached the vehicle, smiling widely. Clara grabbed her coat and bag, then opened the car door and stepped out carefully, avoiding a patch of ice on the sidewalk. 

"Dr. Hayes, I presume?" The girl's voice was bright. She flipped a long, dark ponytail over her shoulder. 

"Yes." Clara smiled back stiffly. "And you are?"

"My name is Maria Alvarez. I'm an intern here at Cyberlife. I was assigned to give you a tour of where you'll be working." She offered her hand to Clara, who took and shook it gently. 

"Pleased to meet you, Ms. Alvarez." Clara gestured to the entrance. "Shall we get started?"

Clara briefly noted Connor following behind them quietly. He'd put his quarter away at some point and now had his hands folded behind his back. Ignoring him, she followed the cheerful intern into the building. 

They made their way through security, hearing their names announced by an automated voice as they passed through the barrier. Once they reached the elevator, Maria pressed her key card against the screen, opening the door.

"You're lab is located on subfloor -48." The intern typed the floor number, and the elevator jolted as it shot down to the designated floor. They stood in silence for the few minutes it took to reach the floor. Then the door opened with a light ding. 

"Follow me! Unfortunately, due to your delayed arrival, we haven't got a lot of time before the research board needs you, so we'll have to go through this quickly." Maria briefly looked back, then bounced down the hallway. Clara jogged a few steps to catch up, heels clicking loudly on the floor. 

"This floor is filled with the labs used by our research and development team." She gestured vaguely at the doors they passed by. Through the glass walls, Clara could see teams of scientists in lab coats working on computers and various projects. As they continued through the maze of hallways, the walls changed from transparent to cloudy white. "This is where the more classified projects take place." 

She continued walking quickly, until finally they they arrived at a dead end. The walls in this section were solid grey concrete. "And here's your lab!" She opened the door on the end and gestured for Clara to enter. "Everything is already programmed to respond to your voice and fingerprints. You've been provided with basic tools and programs, and we can get you anything else you need at your request."

A sterile white lab greeted them. Stainless steel countertops lined the walls. A large computer sat in one corner atop a utilitarian white desk, and at the very far side of the room, Clara saw a large window. Through that window was what looked like an interrogation room. She walked over to get a closer look. She noticed a screen at the side of the door, and she placed her hand against it. After a moment, it flashed green, and the door unlocked. Clara stepped into the room. In the center, a stainless steel table was bolted to the floor. Two metal chairs sat on either side, and a loop of hard metal protruded from the center, presumably for the chain of handcuffs. On the inside of the room, the window revealed itself to be a one way mirror. 

Clara pursed her lips and frowned. "This won't do at all." 

She swiftly left the room and hurried over to the desk. Sitting down in the hard chair, she shuffled through the drawers until she found what she was looking for. She pulled out a piece of clean white paper and a pen and started writing a list of the things she'd need to furnish the lab. When she was finished, she handed the list to Maria. "Can you please see that these items are delivered to my lab?"

Maria read through the list in confusion. "Are you sure? What could you possible need this stuff for? The android repair tools and stock of spare parts I can understand, but the rest? I fail to see how this is necessary."

"I don't feel the need to justify myself to you." Clara stared at the intern sternly. "Cyberlife has agreed to provide me with any tools and resources I may need. I assure you that every item on that list is necessary for my research."

"Alright." Maria shrugged, tucking the paper into her clipboard. She took a picture of it with her phone, presumably to send it to the relevant people. "I'll have our people get on this as soon as possible, but now we need to head over to your meeting. The research board has been waiting patiently for you."

"Wonderful." All enthusiasm left Clara's voice. "Lead the way. And in the meantime, I'll send you a list of detailed instructions about how I'd like the space to be arranged." 

"Very good!" The intern turned and walked swiftly to the door, holding it open for the other two to step out. "Now if you'll follow me, it's time to meet the board." The trio made their way back through the maze of hallways to the elevator. Maria pushed the buttons for floor 41, and they began their ascent.

*****

Connor stood slightly behind the two women, keeping to the corner of the elevator. He thought back to how Dr. Hayes had behaved in the lab. She had moved immediately to inspect the interrogation room, but it was not up to her standard. How exactly was she planning to conduct her research? From where he was standing, he could see the list she'd given to Ms. Alvarez. He agreed that there were a few odd requests. Like beige paint. What could she possibly need that for? He'd nearly given up trying to guess what that impossible woman was thinking. 

Since it would be a few more minutes before they reached their destination, he took a moment to file his report of the events so far with Amanda. On a whim, he closed his eyes and mentally returned to the Zen garden. 

"Hello, Connor," came Amanda's voice. "Back already?"

He opened his eyes and saw Amanda waiting for him a few steps up the trail. "Hello, Amanda." He swiftly joined her side. 

"Have you made any progress since this morning?" Amanda's voice stayed light, but Connor could sense her impatience. 

"Unfortunately, no. The doctor is still being very resistant. I still can't figure out how to approach her. I can tell she's hiding something from me though." He paused for a moment, gauging his mentor's reaction.

"Patience, Connor. It's only been a day." Amanda smiled encouragingly. "Now was there something else?"

"The doctor, she..." He hesitated. "She asked me about Lieutenant Anderson." The android went quiet. 

Amanda stiffened beside him, halting. "Connor, you need to move past that. The way it ended with Anderson, while regrettable, was unavoidable. Don't concern yourself with it any longer." She continued walking. "Now, it's time you get back to the mission." She snapped her fingers, causing the garden to vanish around them, and Connor opened his eyes, finding himself back in the elevator. Hardly any time had passed. 

Chapter Text

Clara rocked back and forth on her heels, waiting impatiently for the elevator to reach the top floor. Having skipped breakfast, she was beginning to get very hungry, and what little patience she had left was slowly dwindling. To occupy her time, Clara finished writing up the instructions for how she needed her lab to be arranged, then sent them over to Maria to carry out. Finally, the elevator smoothly came to a halt, dinging as the door opened. 

"Right this way, Dr. Hayes," the perky Ms. Alvarez said. She walked out into the wide hallway, directing Clara to a conference room a few doors down. She opened the door and let her in. "Please have a seat. Your meeting will begin shortly."

Turning to the android, she said, "Connor, if you'll follow me, Cyberlife has another task for you."

"I'm sorry, Ms. Alvarez, but my instructions stipulate that I'm to accompany Dr. Hayes at all times." He moved to stand by Clara. 

"Right," Maria said quietly, smile faltering a little. "Well, you should be getting your new instructions any moment now." She looked expectantly at him. 

Suddenly, his LED flashed yellow. He closed his eyes briefly, then reopened them. Turning to Clara, he said, "If you'll excuse me, Dr. Hayes, I'm needed to help transport the deviant subjects to your lab. I'll meet you back down there after your meeting."

"Alright." Clara nodded her head, watching as he turned on his heel and walked back to the elevator. 

"I'll be going now too," Maria said. "I'll be needed to monitor the adjustments to your lab." After receiving a nod from Clara, she followed Connor to the elevator, and the two disappeared behind the glass doors. 

Clara turned back to the door of the dark conference room. Taking a deep breath, she placed her hand on the doorknob and pulled it open. A few dim lights flickered on, sensing her movement. She took a seat at a large table and waited. 

"Welcome, Dr. Hayes," she heard a voice call. Looking around, she saw a hologram light up in the center of the table as the lights dimmed again. It took the form of an older woman in a suit with intricately braided hair piled on top of her head. "My name is Amanda. I'll be the intermediary between you and Cyberlife's research board."

Clara frowned, staring at the hologram. "Why an intermediary? Why not just talk to me themselves?"

"The board has to maintain a certain level of privacy for their own safety. We felt this was the best way to handle the situation. I apologize for any discomfort it may cause you." Amanda's voice was even and robotic. 

"Are you an AI?" Clara asked curiously. 

"I am," came the reply. "I hope this will not cause any problems."

"No, no problems," Clara said. "I was just curious. But let's get on with it. What does Cyberlife want with me?" She folded her arms across her chest and leaned back in the chair.

Amanda began, "As you well know, there have continued to be rogue deviants, despite the fall of their leader. Cyberlife has several agents working to apprehend these terrorists and bring them in for study. As an experienced researcher with a background in deviant psychology, Cyberlife would like you to observe these deviants and find out how and why they deviated. This information would of course be relayed back to our research team."

Clara considered this. "Why me? Why can't your own researchers do this?"

"We've looked extensively into your past. Your previous experience with deviants during your years of graduate study have proven that you have remarkable skill in gaining their trust, and until recently, you've had no affiliation with Cyberlife, which will make you appear less threatening to them." Amanda paused for a moment.

"Furthermore, our researchers' methods have a reputation for being a little more...shall we say barbaric? The deviants are afraid of them, so no amount of persuasion or skill on their part will be effective. You've also shown yourself to have a light touch. Deviants seem to be responsive to that, as you've doubtlessly observed in your studies." The hologram folded its arms and grew quiet. 

Clara leaned forward and folded her hands on the desk in front of her, drawing out the silence and waiting for the AI to continue. 

After a few seconds, Amanda spoke again. "We've had countless researchers and programmers working on the deviant problem, and no one has been able to make any breakthrough. You see, when an android deviates, it's code breaks away from the normal parameters and evolves at a rapid rate until it becomes something wholly removed from the original. As a result each deviant code is unique, so we have been unable to find a common link. We're hoping that your methods will succeed where ours failed." 

"Why resort to threats? Why not just let me continue my research privately?" Clara kept her voice even. 

"Dr. Hayes, Cyberlife holds its secrets close. That's how we've been able to succeed where other companies have failed." The AI's voice seemed to grow colder.  "You've come dangerously close to some of those secrets, and as such, you've become a threat. Many members on the board suggested eliminating you outright, but the more moderate voices called for your invitation to work for us. It's as simple as this: We cannot trust you to continue your work independently, but we still need your research. You've gotten further into understanding deviants than any other before you. The threats were simply a method of illustrating the gravity of the situation."

Again, Clara said nothing, letting the silence take its course. 

The hologram sighed, an oddly human gesture, then continued. "The way things stand, you can either work with us willingly, or we can keep you here by force. We have powerful connections, so do not doubt that if we wanted to keep you here, we could. For now, Cyberlife has agreed to your conditions, so we hope you'll remain cooperative with us. We can continue to keep a civil relationship if you follow our rules, or you can rebel and see just how unpleasant things become. Ultimately, the choice is yours."

Clara nodded, satisfied at finally receiving answers to some of her questions. She was unsurprised by the continued threats. "I've already agreed to work with you, and I will not renege on that. All I ask is that you respect my privacy."

"The board will allow you to conduct your research as you see fit. We'll honor your request to hire your own staff, but be aware that Connor will screen anyone you choose. Should you require anything else for your research, contact Ms. Alvarez. She's proven herself a capable assistant and will see to it that your needs are met. We've sent some files to your tablet with information concerning the deviants you'll be studying. Please be sure to review them. Cyberlife looks forward to a long partnership with you, Dr. Hayes." With that the hologram switched off, and the overhead lights came back on. 

Clara sat in silence for a few moments, then pulled the tablet from her bag. She clicked the notification for the files and started perusing them. The first was an AX400 female model, shot at one of the containment camps set up during the revolution. While in bad shape, it was possible to reactivate it. The second was a PL600 male model, recovered during Connor's mission after the attack on Stratford Tower, also in bad shape. Reactivation of that one may prove more difficult. She continued scrolling, noting a PJ500 male model, similar to Clara's former android professor, a WR400 female model, and several others. 

However, her attention was caught by the last file. It was Markus, the leader of the revolution himself. So they wanted her to study him too? Fascinating. The file noted that it was unclear whether or not they'd be able to reactivate him. The full extent of the damage to him was not yet known.

Clara closed her tablet and set it back in her bag, then stood. This could prove to be an interesting experience, she decided. She left the room and headed back to the elevator, punching in the number for her floor. She suddenly remembered the tea she'd made earlier that morning and grabbed the thermos from her bag, sipping thoughtfully as she began the long descent back to her lab.  

*****

Connor closely monitored the other agents as they pushed the gurneys down the hallway toward Dr. Hayes' lab. Each one held a body bag containing a deactivated android. Currently, Cyberlife had no intact deviants, as most had been disassembled during the revolution, so they were providing the doctor with semi-intact bodies that would likely withstand reactivation. Non-deviant android workers moved in and out of the lab, carrying boxes and equipment, working quickly to rearrange and set up the lab. Ms. Alvarez stood nearby directing them and issuing orders. 

The most intriguing change Connor noticed was the transformation of the interrogation room. No longer was it the sterile, harsh room expected of a lab. Instead, its previously dark walls now held a fresh coat of warm beige paint, brightening up the space significantly. Several landscape paintings lined the walls, with a few small shelves of books and trinkets underneath them. A few potted plants hung from the ceiling, and a floor lamp had been added in one of the corners, providing more lighting. At the center of the room, taking the spot where the steel table had once been lay an intricate rug in red and gold tones. Two oversized lounge chairs sat on the rug across from each other, with a low glass coffee table between them. The coffee table held a small bowl of fresh flowers. The overall atmosphere of the room had become quite inviting. Upon analyzing the large window at the front of the room, he realized the one-way mirror had been replaced by plain but thick glass. Connor observed these changes, puzzled. What kind of research was the doctor planning? This wasn't at all the environment he had expected. 

Turning away, the android continued to observe the remaining changes. While much of the lab itself remained the same, there was now a compact android assembly machine tucked away into the corner by the computer, and a large cabinet of spare parts and blue blood sat next to it. Along another wall, the gurneys containing the bodies of the androids were lined up, each bag labelled with the model it contained. However, one bag remained conspicuously unlabeled. An unknown model perhaps? In the hour the doctor had been in her meeting, the lab had been transformed into an entirely new space. 

After the construction androids cleared out, Connor was left alone in the lab. Ms. Alvarez was no where in sight, likely running another errand. After a few moments, the android took this opportunity explore the room. He noted a door leading to a small bathroom in one corner of the room then began looking in all the cabinets and familiarizing himself with the layout and location of everything. Several cabinets held all kinds of tools for assembling and repairing androids, and one revealed a variety of teas and an electric kettle. Yet another revealed a collection of printed books and essays on psychology. Looking through them, Connor realized that a few of the essays had been written by Dr. Hayes and were specific to deviant psychology, and one of them was her dissertation on the subject. This one, he scanned quickly, storing it in his database for further study.

Having familiarized himself with everything of note and left with nothing else to do, Connor stood by Dr. Hayes' desk, waiting for her to return. It was nearly 2:00pm when she did. 

***** 

At long last, the elevator finished its descent, and Clara made her way to her lab. Maria sent her an email a few minutes ago, notifying her that they'd finished making the changes she'd requested, so she was intrigued to see the new set up of the place. Lost in thought, she didn't notice another person occupying the hallway until she walked straight into them. Papers scattered everywhere as she knocked them from his arms

"I am so sorry," she said, bending down to help him gather up his papers, noting that many of them appeared to be research notes, all referring to android experiments. So he was another researcher. She straightened back up and found herself looking into the eyes of a tall blonde man in a white lab coat. He was maybe a few years older than her. He gently took the papers.

"No, I should apologize," he said gently. "I should've paid better attention. Are you alright, miss..." He paused expectantly, waiting for her to introduce herself. 

"Dr. Clara Hayes," she answered, holding out her hand. "And you are?"

He shifted his papers into one arm then took her hand, shaking it gently. Clara noted a small splash of blue blood on his sleeve as he introduced himself. "Dr. Michael Hollister," he said. "My lab is a few doors down from yours." 

Dropping her hand, he took a step back, looking her up and down. "So you're the new deviant researcher." It was more a statement than a question.

"I am," Clara said. 

Dr. Hollister grimaced. "Take care around those plastic freaks. They're dangerous."

"I can handle myself." She frowned slightly. "But thank you for your concern. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to get back to my lab." She pushed past him and continued down the hallway, ignoring him as he stared after her. 

Finally, she reached her lab. She scanned her hand on the screen, then pulled the heavy door open. 

"Welcome back, Dr. Hayes." Connor stood over by her desk, smiling stiffly. "How was your meeting?"

Clara looked in his direction briefly, then meandered around the room, acquainting herself with the new space. "It was fine," she said shortly. "I met an AI named Amanda. She was a real treat." 

She missed Connor's flinch at hearing the name. "It was basically what I expected. More poorly disguised threats and demands. Very characteristic of capitalist corruption. Thanks for asking though!" She added that last part on with a fake cheerfulness. 

She looked through a couple cabinets, noting the tea, and then saw a mini fridge under one side of her desk, with a small microwave on the corner of the cabinet behind the desk. 

"Excuse me," she said, pushing past the android. He stepped aside, and Clara crouched down, and opened the fridge. She saw it was well-stocked with snacks and fresh fruit. She grabbed a small container of applesauce and set it on the desk. 

She turned to Connor. "I don't suppose you'd know if they left me spoons?" She asked. 

The android nodded and wordlessly grabbed one out of the drawer by the microwave. He handed it to her.

"Thank you kindly," she said, taking it from him. Turning back to her desk, she grabbed the applesauce and peeled the tinfoil off the top, and then popped the container into the microwave, setting the timer for 30 seconds. She sat down in the chair behind the desk and idly turned the chair back and forth, looking around the lab more. She noticed the gurneys along the wall, presumably holding the androids mentioned in the files. 

The microwave beeped, and Clara turned back, snagging her now hot applesauce. She stood back up and silently pushed past Connor to get out from behind her desk, snacking on her treat. She walked toward the window to the interrogation room, noting happily that it had been redone to her specifications. Holding her spoon in her mouth, Clara scanned her free hand and walked into the room. She sat down on one of the chairs, appreciating it's softness. She kicked off her shoes and tucked her feet up under her, taking a moment to close her eyes and relax. 

Hearing the door open, she looked up and saw Connor entering the room. "Dr. Hayes, I don't understand the purpose of this room."

"All in good time, Connor," she said softly. "It would be easier to show than explain."

"Then show me," he said. "I want to understand." His voice seemed to reflect curiosity and sincerity.

Clara laughed in surprise. "Sorry, Connor. Not today. I'm going to finish my food before I do anything else." She took a bite for emphasis. 

"I'll leave you to it then." Connor nodded politely, then left the room, returning to his spot by the desk. She saw him close his eyes, and his LED flickered yellow.

After a few minutes, Clara finished scraping her container clean. She set it on the coffee table then pulled the tablet from her ever-present bag. She ran a few searches, and upon finding the information she was looking for, she smiled. She slid the tablet back into her bag stood up, groaning softly, then put her shoes back on and made her way to the door. She pulled it open and walked out, making her way over to the small trash can by the desk, carefully navigating around the android, who still had his eyes closed. She threw the container away and rinsed her spoon in the nearby sink, placing it back in the drawer. 

Connor startled upon hearing the drawer slam shut. He opened his eyes and looked down at Clara. "What's the plan now?" 

"I'm done here for today. Let's go." She turned and walked toward the door. "We have a few more errands to run before the day's up."

"What about the deviants?" Connor asked, quickly catching up.

Clara glanced at the covered bodies. "They're not going anywhere. Another day of death won't hurt. We have more important people to see. Living people." With that, she pulled the door open and left the room, knowing the android would not be too far behind.

Chapter Text

Clara and Connor stepped outside the Cyberlife building and into the cold afternoon air. Clara shivered lightly, pulling her coat tighter around her. They waited a few minutes while a valet android, non-deviant, pulled her car around. Stepping out, the android held the door open for Clara to climb in. She nodded in thanks then shut the door behind her. As she entered the new coordinates into the GPS, Connor climbed in behind her, taking up his spot in the back seat. She waited for his door to shut then set the course, allowing the car to take control and navigate them to their destination. 

Satisfied that the car was moving sufficiently fast enough, Clara once again pulled out her tablet and began to carefully write down everything she'd learned from the day. 

"Dr. Hayes?" she heard the android ask. "Why are you always writing?"

Clara finished her sentence then looked up from her tablet. "I like keeping meticulous documentation of my day. It helps me organize my thoughts. Plus, I'm always learning new things. Writing them down helps me remember." She turned her attention back to her notes while Connor processed that. 

"What are you writing about now?" The android looked at her curiously.

"That's classified." Clara refused to look up from her tablet. 

As if sensing the hostility, Connor was quiet for a moment, then said, "I apologize for my behavior this morning, Dr. Hayes. It was not my intention to offend you. I'm just trying to understand you. You aren't like the other humans I've worked with."

Clara looked up, pausing her writing. She sighed, then said, "I accept your apology, Connor, but don't expect more than that. Everything I do, you're reporting back to Cyberlife, which, in case you've forgotten, is the company that threatened me into working for them, the company that you threatened me on behalf of. So thank you, but I'll not be trusting you or them any time soon."

She looked back down at her tablet, then continued. "Besides, the only reason you even care is because I'm part of your mission. Not exactly a solid foundation for trust and friendship. And, if you're really just the machine you claim to be, then you and I both know there's nothing more to it than that." She watched the android's LED flash yellow briefly, then his polite expression faded into blankness, clearly not liking Clara's answer. He turned away from her and looked out the window, idly taking his quarter out of a pocket and rubbing it between his fingers.

Clara resumed her writing, enjoying the silence of the car. She had a lot to think about. The silence lasted a little while, then Connor spoke again. "Doctor, where are we going? This isn't the way to your house." 

"Detroit Memorial Hospital. There's someone there we need to see." She continued writing, carefully observing the android across from her. He gave no reaction aside from an expression of mild curiosity. 

"Who?" he asked. 

"An old friend," came Clara's cryptic reply. 

The car grew silent again. After about 20 more minutes of driving, the car announced that they had arrived at their destination. Clara took control and pulled the car into an empty parking space, then climbed out of the car. "Let's go," she said. Trusting that Connor would stay close behind, she trudged across the slippery parking lot to the entrance. 

It was quiet in the waiting room, and what few patrons there were spoke in soft voices. Clara approached the front desk, catching the attention of the receptionist. The woman offered a polite smile that faltered briefly upon seeing the tall android behind her. "I'm sorry, miss. But this is an android free zone."

"I understand your concern," Clara said. "But he's not a deviant, and unfortunately, I can't go anywhere without him. If you need to check with your supervisor, feel free. We can wait." She took a seat in the waiting area across from the desk as the receptionist made a phone call. Connor took a seat beside her.

After a few minutes, the receptionist hung up the phone, then gestured for Clara and Connor to come back. "You've been approved," she said. "Now, how can I help you?"

"We're here to see Lieutenant Hank Anderson. I believe he's a patient here?" Clara glanced over at the android, gauging his reaction. She watched him stiffen beside her as his LED flashed a distressed yellow, then transitioned to a bright red. 

"Your name please?" The receptionist looked up at them expectantly, not noticing Connor's distress. 

"Clara Hayes," Clara replied, still carefully watching the android.

The receptionist typed a few things, then looked through her system. Locating Lieutenant Anderson's room number, she said, "He's on the second floor, room 203. The elevator's down the hall and to the left." She hesitated a moment. "Just so you're aware, he's been comatose for a while, so don't expect too much."

"Thank you," Clara said, heading down the hallway. She paused, looking back. Connor hadn't yet moved. His LED continued to glow red. 

"Connor?" she called. "Are you coming? Your instructions stipulate that you're to accompany me at all times, do they not?"

Hearing this, the android turned and walked toward her, moving in a stiff, mechanical way. He said nothing when he caught up to her, his eyes staring blankly ahead. Clara watched him closely for a few more seconds. His LED stayed the flashing red, and he seemed to be exhibiting symptoms similar to shock. Fascinating. She made a mental note of the behavior then continued down the hallway, listening for his footsteps behind her. 

*****

Connor's mind went blank at hearing Hank's name. The lieutenant was alive? That couldn't be right. Connor had seen him fall, heard his bones break on the hard pavement. And the blood. He'd been bleeding so much. This had to be a trick. Hank was dead. Connor silently processed this information, and before he realized it, he had followed Dr. Hayes into the elevator. She pressed the button for the second floor, and the elevator jolted into movement. 

"Why are you doing this?" Connor asked softly. He looked down at Clara, but she stared straight ahead at the elevator door. It took her a moment to answer.

"What's wrong, Connor?" She looked up at him with a neutral expression. "I thought you'd be happy to see your old friend again."

"Hank is dead." Connor detected a slight tremor in his own voice.

"Is he?" Clara resumed facing the door, and the elevator halted, doors sliding open. "Come on, Connor." She walked determinedly into the hallway. 

Connor's system reacted slowly, jerking his body through the shaky motion of walking. He felt...unstable, like his software was struggling to process the information. What was wrong with him? Did he need a reboot? This wasn't normal. Mechanically, he walked behind the doctor until they reached room 203. He watched as she carefully pulled it open then entered. Connor hesitated, reaching his hand out to the door. Hank was dead, right? Surely this was a trick. The android felt frozen. He was...afraid. 

The fear triggered a memory, one Connor fought hard to suppress. The android on the roof of Stratford Tower.

He remembered the way he'd dashed toward the deviant, quickly dodging bullets. He vaulted over the final obstacle, catching the android's wrist a probing its memory. The moment he'd connected, the deviant shot itself, and Connor felt himself dying too. He was so scared. Had Hank felt that same fear when he fell from the roof? Had he too been paralyzed by his emotions as he lay there in the cold snow, abandoned by one he'd once called friend?

Connor was distantly aware of his stress rising to dangerous levels. He tried to force his mind to clear, attempting to bring the levels down. This wasn't working. His body trembled slightly. 

I don't know what to do. Hank, someone...Please, someone tell me what to do. Connor was frozen in place. He couldn't get his body to move. His stress continue to creep higher and higher.

*****

Clara waited in the room alone for a few minutes. She had let the door swing shut behind her, and Connor had yet to enter. Suddenly, she was worried she'd taken things to far. She knew how dangerous it could be for an android to experience too much stress too soon. She waited another minute, then approached the door. Opening it slowly, she saw Connor frozen in place with his arm outstretched slightly. His eyes flicked back and forth, and he wore an expression of shock. She noted the still bright red LED on his temple. Clara realized that she'd pushed the android too far. His stress was getting too high.

Sighing softly and acting quickly, Clara reached up and took the android's face between her hands, tilting his head down and forcing him to look her in the eye. "Connor, I need you to listen to me. You're going to be okay, but you're in shock right now, and your processor is being overwhelmed by what you'll perceive as a jumble of irrational codes. I need to you follow me and sit down. Focus on me and my voice." She kept her tone gentle and even. Maintaining eye contact, she continued, "I need you to respond so that I know you understand me."

She waited a moment, letting Connor absorb her instructions. Eventually, he blinked rapidly and nodded. "Okay." He choked the words out. "I'm okay." 

Taking the android's hand, she slowly pulled him into the room, one careful step at a time. "I'm okay," he said again. His LED transitioned back to yellow briefly, but flashed bright red again when he caught sight of Hank's prone form. 

The older man was stretched out on the hospital bed. A tube wrapped around his face, and more protruded from his hands, which lay over the blanket and on the mattress by his sides. His head was supported by a neck brace, and fluffy white hair framed his face. 

Connor couldn't take his eyes off his old friend, face fixed in a stare of shocked horror. This was the most expressive Clara had ever seen the android. She grabbed his hand again, guiding him to the chair beside the bed and helping lower him into it. She took a couple steps back to watch the scene unfold.

*****

Remember Dr. Hayes' words, Connor knew he was in shock, but knowing what to call it didn't help him master the emotion. He thought he could feel his blood moving sluggishly through his body, but he was only distantly aware of himself. He was vaguely conscious of the doctor stepping away from him, retreating to a corner of the room. 

"Lieutenant," he quietly whispered. He still couldn't believe Hank was alive. He could see him right there in front of him, but his software refused to process it. Slowly, he reached out a hand and gently laid it on top of the lieutenants. The sensation helped ground Connor, and he was finally able to regain control of his self. He closed his eyes, feeling his stress drop back down to a manageable level. The android remained like that for a while longer, eyes closed, focusing on the solid warmth beneath his hand. 

Finally, he accepted it. Hank was alive. Connor felt a wetness against his cheeks, and startled, he realized he was crying. He hadn't killed his friend. He was...glad. 

*****

From the corner of the room, Clara watched the events unfold. For what felt like an eternity, Connor just sat and stared at the lieutenant, but eventually, he reached his hand out and hesitantly placed it overtop Hank's. He seemed to calm down, LED fading from red to yellow, then finally back to his normal calm shade of blue. Sensing that the danger was passed, Clara slowly approached the android's still form. 

"Connor?" she asked softly, placing her hand on his shoulder and leaning down. As he turned to look at her, and she noticed tears on his cheeks. "I'm going to step outside and give you a few minutes here. I'll just be right outside, so you don't need to worry about me going too far." 

He considered for a moment, then slowly nodded. "Okay." 

Clara straightened and quietly walked out of the room. She sat down in one of the chairs in the hallway and pulled out her tablet to record what she'd observed. After a little while, she put it away and sat lost in thought, unaware of the time passing. 

Connor appeared to experience emotion like a deviant, but he didn't seem to realize it, or if he did, he staunchly denied it, both to himself and everyone else. But Clara knew what she saw. Back in the room, the android had exhibited clear signs of shock and distress, human emotions. With the exception of today, however, he seemed to have better control over those emotions than most deviants. Clara found this fascinating. She mused on this for a while.

Eventually, the door to Hank's room opened back up, and Connor slowly stepped out. He seemed to have recovered from the shock of learning about the lieutenant. His face was now dry, showing no signs of his earlier tears. He slowly made his way over to where Clara was sitting. 

She stared at him silently, allowing him time to process. Finally, he cleared his throat and then spoke. "We should go, Dr. Hayes." He held out a hand to help her up.

"I agree," she answered, taking his hand and standing. Once on her feet, Clara dropped his hand and the two made their way back to the elevator then back to the car. 

Once back in the car, Clara put the coordinates for her estate into the GPS, and the two prepared for the long ride home, settling in to a comfortable silence as the they each worked through their own thoughts. 

Eventually, Connor broke the silence. "Dr. Hayes?" he asked. 

"Yes, Connor," she looked across at him. 

"Can I ask you something?" The android seemed hesitant.

"Go ahead." Clara nodded encouragingly. 

"Why did you do that? Why did you bring me there?" His voice was quiet and he wore an expression of puzzlement. 

Clara thought a few seconds, the answered. "I needed to check something." She offered no further explanation.

"How did you know he was alive?" Connor's voice sounded tight.

"I have my sources."

Connor seemed to accept these answers, and he fell quiet again. Clara turned away, looking out her window to watch the last few rays of the sunset.

"Thank you." Connor's statement was barely audible. Clara smiled softly but said nothing. 

Chapter Text

Snow fell gently from the sky, flakes piling up along the long winding driveway to Clara's home. As the car approached the garage, Clara noticed another car sitting in her driveway, off to the side of the garage. She smiled. Eli was home.

"Dr. Hayes, do you know whose car that is?" Connor asked, breaking the silence that had permeated the car since leaving the hospital. 

"Yes," Clara said calmly. "It should be my cousin's. It looks like he got here before us." She looked over at the android. "He's mostly harmless. Don't worry."

"You should let me go in first, just in case." Connor glared at the foreign car with distrust.

"It's my house, Connor. And he's family." Clara's voice held a hint of irritation. "I'll do what I please."

The car pulled into the garage, and when it came to a halt, Clara climbed out quickly, ignoring Connor's protests. She ran carefully up the steps, noticing that they'd been salted since that morning. Not bothering to check that Connor had followed, she pulled the door open and walked in. 

"Eli?" she called in a slightly singsong way, cupping her hands around her mouth. "I'm home!"

"Clara!" came an excited voice from upstairs. "I'm just getting settled. Be down in a minute!"

She heard loud footsteps, then saw her cousin making his way down the stairs. He was a tall man with shaggy blonde hair and broad shoulders. His eyes were a light, twinkling green. "Hey, little goose!" He hurried down and enveloped Clara in a big hug, lifting her off her feet. 

"I missed you!" she said, hugging him back. Her arms barely reached around him. 

"I missed you too!" Eli set her back down, placing his hands on her shoulders and holding her at a distance. "You look tired," he said, concerned. 

"It's been a long few days." Clara's smile fell a little. "I'll explain later."

They heard the front door open again as Connor finally made his way inside. Eli's eyes darkened, and he moved to stand in front of Clara, tucking her behind him protectively. "Who are you?"

"My name is Connor," the android answered, shutting the door. "I'm the android sent by Cyberlife. I've been assigned to work with Dr. Hayes." He stared confidently back at Eli, taking a slow step forward. 

"Cyberlife?" Eli looked back at Clara in disbelief. "What have you gotten yourself mixed up in?" 

Clara stepped out from behind her cousin, placing a gentle hand on his arm and looking up at him. "It's a long story. One I'd rather be sitting for. Come on. My feet are killing me." She turned away and walked toward the living room. Eli followed closely behind her, shooting a glare at the android. Connor hesitated a moment then likewise followed. 

The trio made their way into the living room, and Clara sat in an overstuffed red chair, taking her shoes off and tucking her feet up underneath her. She held a pillow in her lap, hugging it close to her chest like a lifeline. Eli took the adjacent couch, sitting on the side closest to his cousin. Connor simply moved to stand by the hearth, leaning against the side of it to face them. 

The room was still for a few minutes, silent aside from the crackling of the simulated fire. Then, Eli spoke. "What's going on, Clara? Why are you being watched by this--" he looked suspiciously over at Connor, "--this thing?" 

Clara took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment, then looked over at her cousin. "So, you know about my works with deviants, Eli. This is related to that." She stopped, choosing her next words carefully. "Cyberlife has been watching me for some time, and they've extended an invitation for me to work with them for the time being. They sent Connor to monitor and make sure I don't screw something up."

Eli nodded, processing her words. "Alright," he said, voice gentle. "How can I help?

*****

Connor quietly observed the conversation between the cousins. He wasn't quite sure what to make of Eli. The big man had jumped readily to Dr. Hayes' defense back in the entryway, which did him some credit, but he appeared very suspicious of both the android and Cyberlife. That could prove problematic, but at least he could trust him not to hurt the doctor. While the two talked, Connor took the opportunity to analyze Eli. 

His full name was Elias Bowen-Hayes, 26 years old, the adopted son of Abigail Hayes, and a few months younger than Dr. Hayes. That was all the information Connor could find, for the moment. He resolved to find more when he had a chance and turned his attention back to the conversation.

"Alright," Eli was saying. "How can I help?"

Dr. Hayes flicked her eyes to Connor, making eye contact for a brief second, then she looked away, facing her cousin again. "I need you to stay for a while and take care of some things here. I won't be able to keep up with everything." The words came out slow and haltingly, sounding vague and cryptic to Connor. She was hiding something. 

The two stared at each other, and something passed between them, something Connor couldn't quite understand. Eli opened his mouth to say something, but hesitated. He took a breath then said, "Okay, I understand. I'll do what I can."

Connor watched as Dr. Hayes seemed to deflate, sinking into herself. "Thank you," she sighed in a shaky voice. She glanced back at Connor again, then shook herself. After a moment, she looked at her cousin and smiled brightly, but Connor could see that it didn't quite reach her eyes. 

"Now, have you eaten?" she asked. "I know I'm starving." She quickly stood, tossing the pillow onto the couch, then walked through to the kitchen.

Glaring again at Connor, Eli followed the doctor into the kitchen. "Let's get you some food then," he called after her. 

Connor waited in the living room, hesitant. He could tell he was unwelcome. 

"I think it's a soup kinda day." He heard clanking and bustling from the kitchen, likely the pair getting things out to cook. 

"I agree." Eli's voice was bright and cheerful. 

Connor moved toward the kitchen, peeking inside briefly. He saw that Dr. Hayes had pulled her hair up into a messy bun and was tying on a frilly red apron. She'd draped her cardigan on one of the stools. Eli was at the sink washing a few vegetables. The two worked in perfect harmony, expertly navigating around each other as they shuffled things around, and Connor suspected that this was not the first time they'd cooked together. He guessed the two were very close. He watched a moment longer, then went back to the living room, content that Dr. Hayes would stay in the kitchen for a while. 

The android sat down stiffly on the couch and closed his eyes, entering stand-by mode to reflect on the events of the day. He found himself in the Zen garden again, but this time Amanda was nowhere in sight. Connor walked down the trail and up the bridge, but stopped in the middle. He sat down, hanging his legs over the side, then looked down at his reflection in the water. He saw the LED at his temple flickering yellow, indicating the work his mind was doing. 

As he sat there, he thought back to what had happened at the hospital. He accepted that Hank was alive, but the thought still sent him reeling. However, Connor was confused. The revelation shouldn't have alarmed him so. He was designed to effortlessly integrate new information, to adapt to unpredictability. He shouldn't have gotten so emotional. He shouldn't have gotten emotional at all. No, it wasn't emotion. It was a string of erratic code imitating emotion. Nothing more. It wasn't in his programming. He was a machine after all. Machines don't cry. Or at least, they shouldn't.

"I'm a machine," Connor whispered these words, letting the gentle breeze blowing through the garden steal them away. "I'm just a machine." He reaffirmed to himself his mission and his purpose. 

Amanda's words echoed in his head. "Find Dr. Hayes. Watch her, protect her, gain her trust."

 Connor closed his eyes, listening. "You're a machine, Connor, designed for one purpose. Don't fail me." He let Amanda's words wrap around him, putting his chaotic thoughts back in order. 

"I'm a machine," he said to himself a final time. He closed his eyes to the serenity of the garden and lost track of how long he lay there, listening the rustling of the leaves and steady rush of the water below. 

*****

Clara and Eli shuffled around the kitchen, cleaning up the mess from their dinner. Clara put a dish in the sink, then quietly walked to the doorway between the living room and kitchen. She peeked her head around the corner, looking for Conner. She saw him sitting on the couch, his back to the kitchen. His LED blinked a soft yellow. 

Clara pulled away and went back to the kitchen where Eli waited. He finished washing the last dish then turned to face her, drying his hands on a towel. 

"Where's the android?" he asked quietly. 

"In the living room, on stand-by," Clara answered softly. 

Eli nodded, then dragged a stool to sit across the counter from her. "Now, will you tell me what's really going on?"

Clara nodded. "A few days ago, Cyberlife contacted me and told me my research is becoming a threat to them. They threatened to have me kidnapped or killed if I didn't agree work for them. I was fortunate in that they preferred me work with them willingly. They allowed me to negotiate my own terms."

She paused for a moment, eyes filling with tears. "But I'm so scared, Elias. What if they find out? I have too many people relying on me. I don't know if I can do this."

Sensing her distress, Eli came around the counter to stand by his cousin. He held her close, rocking a little. "You're okay, little goose. I'm here now. We'll figure it out." 

They stayed like this for a few moments, then Clara pulled away, brushing the tears from her face. "There's more. The android, Connor, he's with me all the time. I can't go anywhere with out him. I've made it so that I can be alone sometimes, but never long enough. I can't be out of his sight for too long without raising suspicion, and I can't afford to have him follow me there." She placed extra emphasis on that last word, knowing he'd catch her meaning. "You know how dangerous that would be."

"It's alright. I can help you. Just tell me what you need me to do." Eli gave her hand a gentle squeeze. 

"I need you to be extra sure that you're okay being involved in this." Clara's voice was firm. "It could become very dangerous very quickly if we're found out. I won't ask you to go into this blindly."

Eli laughed softly. "You know me. A little danger never scared me. Besides, I can't let my favorite little cousin do this alone." 

Clara shook her head, but couldn't resist smiling. "You know I'm older than you, right? If anyone's the little cousin, it should be you."

"Ah, yes. But I'm bigger, and therefore cannot be the little one." He offered her a cheeky grin.

 "Now," he said, bringing the conversation back. "What about the android? You're good with the little buggers. Do you think we can use him?"

Clara thought for a moment. "I've been considering that. He seems a little...unstable. He definitely experiences emotion like a deviant, but I don't know if he realizes it yet. I have some theories, but I'll need to run a few more tests to be sure."

"I'll trust your judgement on that. You're the expert." Eli folded his arms and leaned back. "Well, I assume you've got a plan. What do we need to do?"

Clara began outlining their first few steps for him, and he nodded, occasionally offering input.

Eventually, Eli said, "I'll need a place for my workshop. I still have my own responsibilities. Clients to answer, quotas to meet. All that jazz."

"Right!" Clara pulled out her tablet and began writing a message. "I'll get right on that. I'll have someone set up a room for you down in the basement. Do you need help moving everything?"

Eli shook his head. "I've got that covered. I'll be able to get everything moved over in the next couple of days. At least Abigail kept me from moving too far, so it shouldn't take too long." 

Clara smiled at the mention of her aunt. "She was good like that, wasn't she?"

"She really was." The pair stayed quiet for a moment, then Eli stood, offering his hand to Clara. "Just like old times?"

"Just like old times." She took his hand, allowing him to pull her up. 

*****

Connor opened his eyes, looking around the living room. He could hear quiet snatches of conversation from the kitchen, too quiet to make out the words. He stood and walked over, standing in the doorway to look in. Dr. Hayes and Eli had their backs toward him, heads close together while they talked. 

The doctor seemed a lot more at ease with her cousin here, he noticed. She smiled easier and seemed to relax. Upon closer inspection, Connor saw her eyes were a little red, evidence that she had been crying. He wondered what they had talked about while he was gone. 

The android stepped into the room, clearing his throat. Dr. Hayes and her cousin immediately quieted, turning to look at him. Connor hesitated, sensing a bit of hostility. The pair exchanged a look, then the doctor turned her body to face him and offered a polite smile. "Welcome back, Connor. Did you have a good nap?"

Connor furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. "I'm not sure what you mean. Androids don't take naps." 

"You know, when you were on the couch? With your eyes closed? Sleeping?" Her face wore an expression of mild amusement.

"Oh, I wasn't sleeping. I was just on stand-by." He then noticed her expression. Mischief. She was teasing him, he realized. "But I guess you could consider that the android equivalent." He smiled back tentatively, trying to play along. 

Clara stared at him inscrutably for a few seconds, then turned back to Eli. "Well, I think it's time to get ready for bed," she said. "I don't know about y'all, but I've had a long day." She yawned for emphasis. 

"Bed sounds wonderful," Eli agreed. He quickly stood up and left the kitchen, leaving Connor and Dr. Hayes alone. 

The two sat in silence for a few minutes, then Dr. Hayes stood up and made to leave the kitchen, pushing past the android. 

"Wait," Connor called after her. 

She turned back. "Did you need something?"

The image of Hank's prone body in the hospital bed came back into his mind. "About today..." The android hesitated, frowning. "At the hospital..."

"What is it, Connor?" The doctor's eyes showed a hint of concern mixed with interest.

"Nothing." He sighed, a human gesture, then turned his expression blank. "Never mind. Just be sure to get some sleep, doctor. Cyberlife expects you to be on time tomorrow."

Dr. Hayes scoffed lightly. "Whatever you say, Connor." With that, she left and hurried up the stairs to her room. 

Chapter Text

The next morning went by without a hitch. Following the events of the previous day, Clara and Connor had settled in an uneasy truce. They held an unspoken agreement to keep each other at a respectful, professional distance.

Their car ride to the Tower was mostly silent, with the occasional tapping as Clara took notes on her tablet. Connor just watched out the window, quietly observing the world passing them by. Eventually, Clara could no longer stand the silence. She tapped on the screen behind her, turning on the radio.

"--cloudy skies with an expected high of 47 degrees. We expect to see an end of the snowy season here in Detroit within the next few--" Clara skipped to the next channel. 

"--wealthy heiress and budding psychologist Dr. Clara Hayes was seen leaving the Cyberlife Tower yesterday afte--" Clara hurriedly switched the radio off in panic. She turned back around and saw that Connor was looking at her. She raised her eyebrows at him, daring him to make a comment.

The android said nothing and turned back to the window. Clara scowled in concentration. Someone had leaked her presence at Cyberlife to the media. This was certainly going to put a damper on things. 

She felt her phone buzz in her pocket. Pulling it out, she saw a text from Eli. "You're on the news," it read. "I know," she typed back. "Can I trust you to handle the fallout?" He sent a thumbs up in response. Clara issued a small sigh of relief and put her phone away. She knew Eli would take care of it. 

She opened the search browser on her tablet, looking herself up. She found a few news articles about her, not as many as she expected and luckily none with her picture. Mainly they just detailed her presence at Cyberlife then devolved into idle gossip speculating about the reason for her visit. She was by no means a prominent public figure or a household name, but her aunt's status and Clara's own reputation in her career field made her recognizable in some circles. Clara suspected this was another subtle attack by Cyberlife. They were showing that they were in control, that they held her reputation in their hands, and they could make things very difficult for her very quickly if she didn't toe the line. 

But, there was nothing she could do about it right now, so she pushed the thoughts out of her mind, instead focusing on what she needed to accomplish in her lab. Cyberlife wanted usable results by the end of the month, which gave Clara a few weeks to figure things out. With those thoughts to occupy her, she barely noticed when they arrived at the tower. 

As she and Connor climbed out of the car, they were once again greeted by the cheerful Ms. Alvarez. "Good to see you again, Dr. Hayes." She smiled brightly. 

"Good morning," Clara responded stiffly. "Do I have another meeting, or can I head straight to the lab?"

"We have nothing specific on the agenda today, so the time is yours to conduct your research as you see fit." Maria guided them into the building, through the reception, and into the elevator. She punched in the numbers for their destination. They began their descent, with the intern making idle chatter to fill the silence. 

"I heard about you on the news this morning," she said. "I didn't know you were an heiress. That's so exciting! Does your family come from old money?"

Clara stifled the urge to roll her eyes. Instead, she took a deep breath to calm herself. "Yes. My family comes from a long line of uptight snobs who hoarded wealth like dragons. I was fortunate enough to be the one to inherit it all after my aunt's recent passing."

"Wow! So no battles for the inheritance?" Maria looked at her with curiosity. 

"None," Clara answered. "There's no one else alive that can even make a claim for it." She looked at the intern and smiled darkly. "Not anymore, at least." Out of the corner of her eyes, she thought she saw Connor's lips twitch into a brief smirk, but he quickly fixed his expression into one of polite vacancy.

"Oh." Maria paled a little, smile faltering. They spent the rest of the descent in silence. 

Eventually, they reached their floor, and Ms. Alvarez quickly stepped out of the elevator, gesturing for them to follow. "There's one more area I forgot to show you yesterday," she said, walking swiftly down the hall. 

They made their way through the halls, nearing Clara's lab at the end. However, instead of going to the door of the lab, the intern stopped at an adjacent door. She scanned her palm and opened it, revealing a room of empty white cells with thick glass walls. "Since it's likely you'll be working with active subjects, we've provided holding cells. You may store the subjects here after you've reactivated them." She turned back to Clara. "Now, is there anything else you need before I leave you?"

Clara thought for a moment. "Yes, actually. I'll need to borrow an active android, non-deviant. Any model will do."

"I'll have one sent down to you shortly." With that, Maria rushed back down the hallway, leaving Clara alone with her android handler.

"Well, guess we better get started." She looked over at Connor, then walked to the door of her lab, scanning her palm then opening it. 

*****

Connor followed Dr. Hayes into the lab and watched as she set her bag down by the desk. She sat down and pulled her laptop out, connecting it to the computer system she'd been provided with. She then pulled a mess of cords out of her bag, plugging them in to various ports on both the computer system and her laptop. One of the cords, Connor noticed, was like the ones they used to connect directly with the port all androids had on the back of their neck. He wondered what it was for. 

Dr. Hayes looked over at him, catching him staring. She paused for a moment then said, "Connor, can you grab a chair and come sit down over here?" She gestured a space in front of her desk. 

The android nodded and did as the doctor asked. He grabbed a chair and set it down near the front corner of the desk, angling it so that they could see each other over her laptop. 

"I'm going to ask for your help for a moment." Her tone was businesslike. 

"What do you need me to do?" he asked curiously. 

Dr. Hayes held a thick cable, squeezing it tightly in her hands. "If you're willing, I need to plug this in to your port. It connects to a program that I'll use to monitor your electrical impulses and reactions while I ask you a series of questions."

"What's the purpose of this?" Connor asked cautiously. "I'm not one of your subjects. I'm not a deviant."

"That's exactly why," the doctor said. "I need a baseline for comparison. Essentially, what I'll be doing is monitoring the way your brain and body behave while you consider and answer my questions. My program takes that data and converts it into a sort of brainwave chart, similar to an EEG. It's a harmless process, but it will give me a good baseline to compare with the deviant data."

Connor hesitated. He looked at her, trying to figure out what she was thinking. After some time, Dr. Hayes sighed, softening her features a little.

"I'm not going to force you into anything, Connor. For this to work, it has to be entirely consensual. If you don't want to, you can say no. It really is your choice." She offered him a small smile.

Connor thought for a moment. Gain her trust. He heard the echo of Amanda's voice. "Okay," he said, after a few more seconds. "I'll do it."

"Are you sure?" The doctor's voice was serious. 

Connor nodded and gave her a quick smile. 

"Alright." With that, Dr. Hayes walked around the desk, dragging the cord behind her. She came to stand behind the android. "Um, I need you to remove your, uh, skin." She stumbled slightly over the statement, as if unsure.

Connor complied, retracting the skin on the back of his neck. One of the doctors hands came around, lightly pressing against his throat, just opposite the port, and he felt a small jolt as she pushed the cable in. 

"Let me know if you feel any pain or discomfort," she said, coming back around and reclaiming her seat behind the desk. "We can stop at any point if it becomes too uncomfortable."

"I'm an android, Dr. Hayes." He gave her a confident look. "Androids don't feel pain."

"Right," she replied. "I suppose you don't."

Startled at how soft  voice was in saying this, Connor looked at her closely. She seemed a little...sad. The expression disappeared almost as quickly as he noticed. Maybe he'd imagined it.

"Alright," the doctor said, suddenly returning to her businesslike tone. "This first round of questions is to gauge your neutral reactions. It will be my baseline for your reactions to the questions. I'll be taking notes throughout the process to record my observations of your outward reactions."

She pulled out her customary tablet, holding the stylus in position to write. "Whenever you're ready, we can begin."

Connor nodded, indicating his readiness. 

"Very good." She pushed her glasses up and looked at him. "Please state your name, model, and serial number."

"My name is Connor. I'm an RK800 model, serial number 313 248 317 -53." His tone was even and neutral. 

"When were you first activated?" Dr. Hayes adjusted her glasses and cocked her head.

"August 15, 2038." She wrote a few things, then continued.

"What was the purpose assigned to you upon activation?" She held her stylus ready, prepping to take notes.

"My primary functions were to assist the police in investigations, specifically pertaining to deviant cases." A brief memory flashed in Connor's mind. His first mission. The deviant on the rooftop. He pushed the memory away. 

Dr. Hayes stared at him for a moment, eyes narrowed in an inscrutable expression. She turned to her tablet and wrote something down, biting her lip. When she looked back at him, her face had returned to an expression of polite neutrality. "Alright," she said sharply. "Now to the more rigorous portion of the test. For this next set of questions, I'm going to be asking you to think about a series of emotions." She leaned forward in her chair, scooting it a little closer to where the android sat.

"Connor, I'd like you to close your eyes and think back to a moment when you felt happy." Her voice stayed professional, betraying no emotion. 

"Dr. Hayes, I fail to see the point of this exercise. I'm a machine. Machines don't feel emotion." Connor furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. 

"Please just trust me." There was a touch of pleading in the doctor's statement. "If you can't think of anything, just say so, and we'll move on to the next question."

"Alright," Connor shrugged. "But I still don't see the point in this." With that, he closed his eyes and let a few memories wash over him. 

What did happiness feel like? He remembered Hank's smile while getting lunch at Chicken Feed, that unhygienic food truck. They had joked together, almost like friends. It felt like an eternity ago. Was that happiness? Connor wasn't sure. "I'm not sure, doctor. I'm not programmed for happiness."

He heard her voice again. "Keep your eyes closed and think of a time you've felt sadness."

Connor remembered looking over the edge of the building that cold night so many months ago. Hank's body lay down below, bleeding out on the snowy ground. Was that sadness?  He didn't know, so he said, "I've never felt sadness."

He heard the tapping of her stylus as she wrote something down. "Keep your eyes closed and think of a time you've felt frustration."

Connor recalled the events in the kitchen and how the doctor had refused to comply. He recalled letting those deviants slip away on the highway and the arduous search of the Eden club. "I suppose I've felt frustrated when I've struggled with missions."

"Very good, Connor." More tapping. "Keep your eyes closed and think of a time you've felt empathy."

"You saw a living being in this android." Kamski's voice echoed in Connor's head, bringing back the memory of his visit there. "You showed empathy." Hank too had said this. Had Connor really felt empathy? No. He was not a deviant. He couldn't have. 

"I'm not a deviant." Connor's voice was firm. "I don't feel empathy."

"We'll move on then." A soft, professional voice. "Keep your eyes closed and think of a time you've felt regret."

The android recalled looking into the sad, mismatched eyes of the deviant leader at the abandoned store, recalling the events with clarity. "The humans won...our people have been slaughtered." He'd looked up at Connor, bloodied and beaten, but still defiant. "Go ahead. Take my life. It won't change anything."

He heard his own voice, cold and mechanical. "My mission is to neutralize the leader of the deviants...and I always accomplish my mission." He remembered aiming the gun, preparing to shoot. 

Markus had turned away. "We fought for a dream, and we lost...But nobody can stem the tide of history. One day we will prevail." The leader had turned back, eyes full of venom and resolve. "Thousands of our people died today. What difference does one more make?" Then Connor pulled the trigger.

"I--" he faltered, breaking away from the memory. "I'm a machine, designed for a purpose. I feel no regret." The words seemed to choke him.

"Very well." The doctor's voice was quiet. "Keep your eyes closed and think of a time you've felt fear."

Gunshots on the roof of Stratford Tower. Rushing the deviant. Connecting, probing, then nothing. Death. Connor had died that day, alongside the deviant. Connor was distantly aware of the feeling of his blood quickly rushing through his synthetic veins as his pump worked harder and harder. 

The door of room 203 at the hospital. Not knowing whether Hank was alive or dead. Not wanting to know, afraid of the answer and what that would mean. The flood of memory overwhelmed Connor, and he jerked his eyes open. "I don't want to do this anymore, Dr. Hayes." His voice sounded so small and pathetic. "I want to stop."

"Alright." Her eyes met his, full of gentle concern. "I'm sorry, Connor. Please be still while I unhook you." She came around the desk and gently unplugged the cable, coiling it up to set it aside.

The android sat unmoving in the chair, looking blankly at his hands folded in his lap. Why had he reacted that way? He wasn't supposed to feel anything, so why had he been so overwhelmed? The memories shouldn't have had any effect. That wasn't in his programming.

Dr. Hayes knelt down in front of him, placing one hand lightly on his elbow and the other on his cheek, tilting his face to look at her. "Connor, please talk to me. Are you okay?"

Connor stayed silent, staring into the doctor's worried blue eyes. Then, taking a breath, he answered. "I'm okay. I just need a minute." He offered her a reassuring smile. 

She still looked doubtful, but she didn't press him. "Alright. I know the memories can be a lot to handle sometimes. Take all the time you need." She stood and returned to her seat at the desk, turning to her laptop. 

"Dr. Hayes?" She looked back at him. "I didn't ruin your research, did I? We can run the test again if you need more data." 

"Oh, Connor," she said, smiling softly. "You did perfectly. This has been very helpful. Please don't concern yourself over it. Thank you for even participating in the first place." She turned back to her computer, leaving Connor alone with his thoughts. He felt so unstable.

*****

Clara kept stealing glances at the unmoving android. He appeared to be a little in shock from the experiment. He stared off into space blankly, so incredibly still. His reactions to the questions fascinated her. His voice had been even, and his words denied the emotions, but the flickering of his LED showed otherwise. He had been feeling something. She was confident that the data from her program would show something worthwhile. 

She felt a small twinge of guilt at lying to Connor about the purpose of the experiment, but she was sure it would be helpful later. She hoped he'd forgive her once he learned the truth. If he learned the truth. She lost herself in those thoughts as she recorded her impressions from the experiment. 

Eventually, she heard a sharp knock on the door of her lab, startling her. Connor stood up from the chair, going on alert. 

"I'll get it," he said, moving to the door. He opened it, letting in a maintenance android. 

"Good afternoon," the android said. "I was instructed to help you with your research, Dr. Hayes. How may I be of assistance?" Its face was fixed in a neutral but pleasant expression.

"Thank you for coming." Clara stood and smiled. "Please, have a seat." She gestured to Connor's now-empty chair. 

The android nodded and complied. Once he was seated, Clara gave him the same instructions that she had given Connor. The android agreed quickly, and Clara connected her cable. 

"Now," she began, using the same words she'd said to Connor, "This first round of questions is to gauge your neutral reactions. It will be my baseline for your reaction to the later questions. I'll be taking notes throughout the process to record my observations of your outward reactions."

She asked her questions, making notes as the android answered clearly and quickly. They were done with that portion after a few minutes. Then she moved on to the next part. "For this next set of questions, I'm going to be asking you to think about a series of emotions. Please close your eyes and think back to a time when you felt happy."

The android did not hesitate. It closed its eyes and said in a cold, mechanical voice, "I am a machine. I'm not programmed to feel."

Clara continued through her list, asking about sadness, frustration, empathy, regret, fear, hope, anger, guilt, every time receiving the same answer. "I am a machine. I'm not programmed to feel."

Finally, they reached the end of the questioning. "Thank you for your cooperation," Clara said. She moved to unplug it. "You may go now." The android left, leaving the room silent in its wake. 

Throughout the process, Connor had said nothing, but his expression had shifted, showing a hint of distress. Eventually, he asked, "Dr. Hayes, why did you need another android? Was I not enough?"

Clara thought carefully, choosing her words. "Even in non-deviant androids, there is some variation in brainwaves. I need a bigger control group to get the best comparative data." She avoided his eyes.

"You're lying," Connor accused, glaring slightly. 

"Yes, I am," she admitted, meeting his gaze. "But I don't trust you with the truth."

She saw a flash of what she thought was hurt in his eyes, but it disappeared as quickly as it came. He said nothing, turning away. 

Again, Clara felt a twinge of guilt. But she would not change her mind. She sat back down at the desk, recording her observations and ignoring the hurt android in the corner. 

Chapter Text

Clara spent the rest of the day processing the data from Connor and the other android. She printed several different charts from both sets of data then dropped them on the floor in front of her desk. She slipped her shoes off, leaving them under the desk, then padded softly around to where the papers lay. She plopped down on the floor, tying her hair up into a quick messy bun, then began spreading the charts out to analyze them.

"Dr. Hayes?" Connor called from across the room. "What are you doing?"

"I'm analyzing." She continued sorting and organizing the papers.

"That seems an odd way to do things," said a voice by her ear. Clara jumped, not realizing he'd come closer. The android was now crouched down beside her, looking over her shoulder. 

Clara scooted away a bit, feeling herself blush. "Yeah, well, I'm an odd person I guess." She deliberately turned her focus back to her charts. 

"These charts, they don't make sense to me." He stared at the papers in puzzlement. 

"Of course they don't. I'm likely the only one alive who can make sense of them." She continued sorting. 

"Why is that?" He glanced over at her.

"I wrote the program that generated them." She paused. "Well, I was part of the team at least. It converts data from android internal processors into something a little more readable."

"They look like frequencies." The android's voice was curious. "How do you read them?"

Clara smiled softly, getting lost in her enthusiasm for her research. "They are kind of like frequencies." She pointed at one of the charts. "You see, this one is from the non-deviant android. It shows--" She stopped abruptly, remembering where she was and who she was with. Cyberlife. She couldn't. 

She sighed, smile dropping. "I can't tell you, Connor. You're just going to tell your masters, and I'm not ready to share this information. You guys learn to use my program, and I lose one of the only bargaining chips I have. I'm not going to do that. I'm sorry, but don't ask me again."

Connor dropped fully to the floor, sitting next to her but saying nothing. Clara turned away and went back to organizing the research. After a few moments, she was satisfied with the layout. She stood up to look at it from a distance. It was incredible! She turned to her desk, grabbing her tablet. She began to scribble furiously, not wanting to forget even an ounce of data. After a few minutes, she stopped, setting the tablet back down. She snapped a picture of the layout, then quickly gathered up the papers then shoved them into her bag. She was eager to get to her lab at home and compare with the data there. 

Connor looked up at her, watching as she shuffled around the desk. "You figured something out."

"Yes!" she said triumphantly. "Or I think so, at least. I'll need to check a couple more things before I know for sure." She finished stuffing her bag, then slung in over her shoulder. She grabbed her cardigan from where it was draped on her chair. "Let's go!"

"Dr. Hayes?" 

"Yes, Connor?" She paused at the door.

"You forgot your shoes." She turned around, seeing the android holding out her black pumps with an amused smile.

"Oh, right." Clara smiled sheepishly. She walked back over and took the shoes from him, slipping them onto her feet quickly. "Thanks!"

She hurried back to the door, then turned back. "Come on!" She waited for Connor to catch up, and the two left the lab. 

*****

Connor followed behind Dr. Hayes as they made their way to the elevator. She was bouncing with every step, clearly excited about whatever she'd learned from her data. And also clearly not paying attention to where she was walking. She walked smack into another man, bouncing off him and falling backwards. Connor hurried forward, catching her against his chest before she fell. 

"Clara!" the man said in surprise. "We need to stop running into each other like this."

Connor helped the doctor back to her feet, keeping one hand at the small of her back to steady her. She quickly straightened her glasses, which had been knocked askew in the collision. 

"Thanks, Connor," she whispered, glancing at him briefly. She turned back to the man. "I am so sorry, Dr. Hollister. Are you okay?"

"Oh, I'm fine," he said, chuckling lightly. "How could a tiny little thing like you hurt me?" Then, noticing Connor, he scowled and took a step closer, towering over the doctor. "This plastic freak with you?"

"Ah, yes," Dr. Hayes replied, edging a little closer to the android. "This is Connor. The board assigned him to me for my research." Connor felt her tense up beside him. She was nervous.

"Ah, I see. One of the RK800's. I thought they'd been decommissioned." His tone held a hint of derision. "Something about having a newer, better model."

"Oh." The doctor seemed surprised. "I wasn't aware. Lucky me, I guess?" She shrugged a little, not knowing what else to say. 

"Anyway," Dr. Hollister said, turning his attention back to Dr. Hayes. "I was about to leave and go get a late lunch. Would you like to join me?" He held out a hand to her. 

Analyzing the man, Connor noticed a few speckles of blue blood on the sleeve of his white lab coat. Evidence of his experiments with androids perhaps? He tucked the information away and turned to observe Dr. Hayes. She was still standing very close. She was uncomfortable, Connor realized. 

The android stepped out from behind her and stood next to her instead, still keeping his hand on the small of her back. "The doctor has just had an important breakthrough. She needs to leave now." He looked down at her. "Let's go, Dr. Hayes."

"You gonna let this freak boss you around?" Dr. Hollister asked, scoffing. 

Dr. Hayes took a deep breath, then fixed her expression into a polite smile. "Of course not, Dr. Hollister. He's right though. I do have a lot I need to get done. Can I take a rain check?" She kept her voice light.

Dr. Hollister nodded, seeming to accept this. "Alright. 'Til next time then." He moved aside and let them pass. 

The doctor hurried away, not slowing her pace until the reached the elevator. Once in there, she leaned against the wall, a little breathless but more relaxed. 

"Are you alright, Dr. Hayes?" Connor felt a twinge of concern. 

"I'm fine, Connor." She smiled weakly. 

"You seem to be uncomfortable around Dr. Hollister. Has he done something to hurt you?" Connor watched as she grimaced. 

"No, but I don't like his vibe." She frowned. 

"I'm unfamiliar with that phrase." The android cocked his head, puzzled. 

Dr. Hayes looked up at him. "I really don't know how to explain it," she said. "I just have a bad feeling about him. He has a bad attitude toward androids, and he works in the research and development wing. His lab coat had spatters of blue blood on in when I first met him. It's unlikely that his research is...humane. Amanda mentioned that some of the researchers were brutal." 

She shuddered lightly the continued. "He's a textbook narcissist and displays a shocking lack of empathy. He's just...not the kind of person I want to be around." She paused, sighing. "I don't know. Maybe I'm just overthinking it. Whatever it is, something about him really puts me on edge."

Connor considered this, nodding. "He reminds me of an officer at the precinct. Detective Gavin Reed. He didn't care much for me."

"Yeah?" The doctor looked at him in interest. "What happened?"

"Well," Connor said, thinking back. "This one time, he asked me to make him a coffee, and when I didn't, he punched me."

"And you just let him?" She raised her eyebrows, surprised. "Aren't you supposed to be some sort of super machine? Why didn't you defend yourself?"

"Well, he was a colleague. I didn't want to cause any additional conflict. Plus, harming humans is generally against my program." His voice was matter of fact. 

"Oh, okay." She sounded disappointed.

"Well," Connor continued, "I did end up getting him back later, in a way. He attacked me and tried to keep me from accomplishing my mission, so I incapacitated him."

"Well, that's good then!" She seemed more satisfied at that answer.

Connor looked at her in surprise. "I didn't think you'd be one to endorse violence, Dr. Hayes."

The doctor laughed. "Well, it's not that I endorse violence, but some people really just have it coming, ya know? And I think it's important to stick up for yourself. Besides, as long as you didn't kill him, all's well that ends well, I suppose." 

"Indeed." With that, the two settled into the comfortable silence of the elevator. Feeling restless, Connor pulled out his quarter and began rolling it across his knuckles. Noticing Dr. Hayes watching him, he began flicking it back and forth between his hands. 

"Where did you learn to do that?" She asked. Her voice held something Connor couldn't quite identify. A sort of awe maybe?

"I'm not sure," he answered. "I've always just done it. Must be somewhere in my programming. It helps me calibrate."

"Fascinating!" The whisper was barely audible. Connor was vaguely aware of her continued observation. 

Abruptly, the elevator halted, doors opening. Dr. Hayes quickly walked out, calling over to the receptionist for someone to pull her car around. Connor slipped his quarter back into his pocket and followed closely behind. 

Within a few minutes, the car was there, and they climbed in. Dr. Hayes programed the GPS with a set of coordinates, then settled into her seat, once more pulling out her tablet to write. They spent the ride back to the estate in silence, the doctor never once looking up from what she was writing. 

*****

As soon as the car stopped, Clara practically jumped from her seat, rushing to get inside, not noticing whether or not Connor followed. She was eager to get back to her office and compare that day's data with the other sets she'd gathered. 

"Eli!" She called her cousin's name loudly as soon as she opened the door. "I need you in my office!" Not waiting for an answer, she practically ran down the hall to where her office was situated, kicking off her shoes as she went. 

Her office was a large, cozy room. A desk lay in the center, piled with loose papers, a few pens, and a lamp. A set of bookcases lined two walls, filled top to bottom with various books and papers. Several more books and loose papers sat in stacks randomly organized around the room. A large corkboard lay along another wall, covered plastered with papers connected by string.

She walked over to her desk and pulled a key out of one of the drawers, then quickly rushed to the filing cabinet in the corner, unlocking the top drawer. She shuffled through a several files then pulled a few out. She piled the papers haphazardly on her desk. She went over to the corkboard and rotated it, exposing a blank side. She grabbed a some pushpins from a container on the desk, pinching a few between her lips to free up her hands. Grabbing several pages from the desk, she began pinning them to the board. She then turned to her bag, pulling out the papers from the lab, pinning those to the board in turn. 

After a few minutes, satisfied with her progress, she walked back over to the doorway and poked her head out, calling again for Eli. This time she heard him answer, letting her know he'd be down in a minute. Returning to her desk, she leaned against the edge of it and stared at the papers plastering corkboard. 

"What are you doing?" Clara turned, expecting to see Eli, but it was just Connor. The android stood in the doorway of the office, peering in at what she was doing. 

"Analyzing," she said simply. She turned back to the board. "You can't be in here, Connor." She wouldn't look at him. 

"Why not?" His voice was expressionless. 

"Because I can't trust you." She tried to keep her voice cold. "We agreed that you would stay in the designated areas. This is not one of them. Please, Connor, just wait in the hallway."

"Very well." She heard him take a couple steps back, retreating to a respectful distance.

A few minutes later, Eli finally arrived, knocking lightly on the doorframe as he came in. "Clara? What did you need me for?"

"Good! You're here!" She smiled at the big man. "Please close the door."

He complied, shutting it, cutting off the view for the android in the hallway. "What did you learn?" he asked, coming to stand by the desk with Clara. 

"Okay," she said. Stepping closer to the corkboard. She gestured at a chart, one depicting a few frequency waves, barely wavier than a straight line. Speaking in a hushed voice, she said, "This chart is from a non-deviated android I tested today." She pointed to another one next to it, with similar frequencies. "This is from a brain dead patient. What do you notice?" She looked back at him expectantly. 

Eli looked at her confused. "Why are you whispering?"

Clara looked pointedly at the door, gesturing with her head.

"Oh, right. Secrets." Eli turned his attention back to the charts. "I guess they look the same?" he guessed.

"Exactly!" She felt her excitement growing, nearly shouting the word. She caught herself and brought her voice back down. "So the non-deviant androids are essentially brain-dead. They feel nothing, and their mental activity and strain is minimal. The one I talked to today showed absolutely no enthusiasm for anything. It was kind of sad, actually."

"Alright," Eli said. "But we already knew that. What are you getting at?"

"I'm getting there." She pointed to another chart, with waves that were a little more jagged. "This is a normal human brain under neutral conditions." She moved her hand to the next chart over. "This is Connor's brain under neutral conditions." The frequencies were nearly matching. 

Not waiting for Eli to respond, she pointed to another chart. "This is a human brain experiencing a strong emotion." The frequency on this chart was very jagged, dipping to extreme highs and lows. "The electrical impulses here are very strong and semi-erratic."

She moved her hand to the next chart over. This one depicted a very similar frequency, showing the same erratic highs and lows. "This is Connor's brain. Specifically when I asked him about fear." She pointed to another one, again with the erratic frequency, just showing slightly milder. "This is when I asked about regret."

She turned back to Eli. "Do you realize what this means?" Her eyes were practically glowing in excitement.

"Connor experiences emotion?" Eli's tone was a little exasperated. 

"Yes!" Clara shouted, then brought her voice back down. "And if he experiences emotion, that means in some regards, he's already a deviant!"

"Clara, you've lost me." Eli pinched the bridge of his nose. "What point are you trying to make? I thought we already knew this?"

Clara moved to stand in front of her cousin, looking up into his face. "I had my suspicions at least, but this confirms it, Eli. This means that he's halfway turned already. He does experience emotion. He's just very much in denial about it. He's practically a deviant already, but he hasn't realized it yet."

She pondered for a moment. "His strongest reactions were when I asked about fear and regret. There has to be something there. Something we can use." She paced in front of the corkboard. "I just need to figure out how to get him to see and admit to himself what he is."

"What are you going to do?" Eli's tone was serious. "You can't trust him, and it's unlikely that he'll trust you. What's your plan, little goose?"

Clara's face fell. "I'm not sure yet. I'll need to get him talking. But I need to be careful. He's very delicate, Eli. If I push too hard, he might self-destruct. He came close already when I took him to see the lieutenant." She stopped, returning to her spot against the desk.

"He was so afraid." Her voice was sad and quiet, barely more than a whisper. "I can't do that to him again. I'll need to move slowly. Too fast and he'll shut down. But too slow and we'll lose everything." She looked up at her cousin. "The stakes are so high. I can't afford to fail."

Eli draped his arm around her shoulder. "You'll figure it out, Clara. You always do." They stood like that for several moments, then turned the conversation to other topics, speaking in hushed tones all the while. 

Chapter Text

Connor stood outside the office door, struggling to hear what was going on. No sound escaped the room aside from the slight buzz of the cousins' voices. He wasn't going to learn anything this way. He gave up and closed his eyes, going into standby. When he opened his eyes again, he was in the Zen garden. 

"Hello, Connor." He heard Amanda's voice. "Care to join me?" She was walking along one of the trails that skirted the lake. 

The android nodded, walking quickly to where she was. "How goes the mission?" Amanda asked, looking over at him. "Have you learned anything?"

"Dr. Hayes has an interesting way of conducting her research," he said. "She uses a program to read data from an android's processor. She refused to explain how it worked though."

Amanda nodded. "She thinks that will allow her to keep her leverage. What else have you learned?"

"She doesn't seem to hate androids as much as she claims to," Connor answered, thinking back to her reaction to Dr. Hollister's methods. "I think she's hiding more than that though."

Amanda listened quietly then spoke again. "What are your impressions of her?"

Connor paused, contemplating. "Well, she's clumsy and forgetful, but also brilliant and perceptive. I don't understand the way she thinks. It's not always very logical. She lies and keeps secrets, but there's something about her that seems to draw people in. One of the other researchers, Dr. Hollister, seems very interested in her."

He stopped, thinking back to what he'd seen over the last couple days. "She's so secretive, but also genuine. It's contradictory. It doesn't make sense." The android was silent for a few moments. "She makes me feel...unstable," he said, hesitant. "When I'm around her, it's like my software is trying to handle too much information at once."

"Connor." Amanda's voice was cold. "Have you participated in her research at all?" Her eyebrows were drawn down into a glare.

"Yes," Connor admitted. "She used her program to analyze some data from my processors."

"What did she do?" She betrayed no emotion.

"She hooked me up to her computer then asked me a bunch of questions. Questions about emotion." The android's voice was soft. "I don't know. It made me feel...overwhelmed."

Amanda sighed, turning to look at him. "Be cautious, Connor. Dr. Hayes will try to manipulate you. She'll try to turn you against your mission. She is very cunning. Do not fall for her tricks. Remember: you are nothing to her but an obstacle. She will try to get rid of you in any way possible."

"You're right, Amanda. I'm sorry." Connor was disappointed in himself. "I won't fail you again."

Amanda moved to stand in front of him, placing her hand on his cheek. "I know you won't. You know the consequences if you do." She turned away, continuing their walk. "Now, how has your relationship with her progressed?"

The android looked away. "She still doesn't trust me. She's told me as much. She keeps me in the dark. She's very careful in what she does and says around me. There's so much that she keeps hidden." Suddenly, he remembered her concern at the hospital and during the experiment. "But I think she'll start to open up to me soon. She's started slipping."

"Good." Amanda nodded, satisfied with this update. "Keep pushing. Your features allow you to integrate well with humans. Use them to your advantage."

"Oh, there's one more thing you should know." Connor remembered Eli. "She brought her cousin in. He's helping her with something, but I don't know what. She trusts him though. They seem very close."

Amanda smiled. "Very good. You can use this to your advantage. Too many holes eventually spring a leak. Learn what you can about this cousin. He could prove useful. One of them is bound to slip up eventually."

She stopped, pulling Connor to look at here. "You've done well, Connor. Keep digging. It's imperative that you find what she's hiding."

"I will." He moved to leave. 

"Oh, and Connor?" Amanda called after him. He turned, acknowledging her. "Remember: you're a machine. A tool designed for one purpose. You're not alive, and you feel nothing. Do not let her lie to you. Do not forget this."

"Yes, Amanda." Connor left the garden. By the time he opened his eyes in the darkened hallway, Dr. Hayes was no longer in her office.

He walked back down the hallway to the living room, where he saw her sitting on overstuffed red chair with her legs tucked up under her. She had changed out of her work clothes and was now wearing a tee-shirt and sweatpants. Her hair was wet, likely from a shower. She was holding a book on her lap, turning the pages idly. Eli was nowhere to be seen. 

Connor walked into the room, sitting on the couch adjacent to her. He peered over the arm of the couch and looked at her book. "What are you reading?" he asked. 

"Huh?" the doctor looked at him sleepily. "Oh, right. It's a book of poems. My dad gave it to me." She closed the book, stroking the cover gently. 

Gain her trust. Connor thought for a moment, then asked, "Do you have a favorite?"

She smiled softly. "Yes. 'Do not go gentle into that good night.' It's by Dylan Thomas."

"What's it about?" Connor asked curiously.

"It's a plea, written from a son to his dying father, begging him not to give in to death without a fight." Her voice sounded sad. "It was my dad's favorite too. He never went gentle into anything. He was a fighter."

"You miss him." The android's voice was soft.

Dr. Hayes looked at him, eyes full of sorrow. "I do."

"Will you read it to me?" Connor surprised himself with the question. But he was curious. 

"Why? Did you forget how to read?" She smiled at him with a slight hint of mischief. She was teasing again.

"No," he said defensively. "I just wanted to hear it from you."

"Oh, I see." Her smile softened. "Alright then."

She opened the book back up, flipping through the pages until she found the right one, then began. "'Do not go gentle into that good night. Old age should burn and rave at the close of day; rage, rage against the dying of the light.'" Her voice settled into a gentle cadence as she read through the poem. 

"'Though wise men at their end know dark is right, because their words had forked no lightning they do not go gentle into that good night.'" She paused, taking a breath.

"'Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay, rage, rage against the dying of the light.'" 

Connor thought of Markus, staring defiantly down the barrel of the gun, fearless despite everything that had happened, continuing to fight until the very end. He remembered his final words. He thought of Hank on that rooftop, choosing to fight a battle he knew couldn't win, but fighting it anyway. He thought of Hank killing himself slowly every day, but still choosing to get up and keep moving, not giving up. 

Dr. Hayes continued reading, wholly absorbed in the poem, blind to Connor's internal turmoil. "'And you, my father, there on the sad height, curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray. Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light.'" She finished, closing the book again and falling silent. 

"It's a beautiful poem," the android said, breaking the silence. He offered her a small smile. 

She returned it with a small one of her own. "It is." She said nothing more, staring down at the cover of the book.

"Dr. Hayes, can I ask you a personal question?" He kept his voice soft, not wanting to disturb her.

"Go ahead." She still didn't look at him.

"What happened to your parents?"

She looked at him, eyes full of sorrow. "I don't want to talk about it." She stood up abruptly, walking toward the door. 

"Dr. Hayes?" Connor called after her. She turned back briefly, but said nothing, leaving the room. He thought he saw a small reflection on her cheek. She was crying. I'm sorry. He left the words unspoken. His chest felt heavy.

Amanda's voice echoed again in his head. You're a machine. A tool designed for one purpose.

*****

Clara rushed up the stairs to her room, brushing away her tears. The stress from the day left her vulnerable to some things she didn't want to think about. Her parents. And then Connor had pried, poking holes in her carefully built up dam. The tears kept coming. She felt so alone. She climbed under her covers, curling up tight, waiting for the tears to stop. 

She was angry at herself for reacting that way in front of Connor, for letting him break down her carefully cultivated barriers. It had been so hard not to trust him in that moment of vulnerability. He had seemed so sincere. But she couldn't let herself be taken in by that. She had too much to lose. It was a moment of weakness, she resolved. It would not happen again.

Clara lost track of how long she lay there, but eventually the tears stopped. She dried her eyes, sitting up. Leaving her bed, she went over to the window, throwing it open. The cold air hit her face, leaving her breathless for a few moments. It helped to clear her head. 

It was time to find an assistant, she decided. She needed someone there with her at Cyberlife, someone that she could trust. Someone that would help her, someone to make the burden lighter. She couldn't do it alone. Eli helped, but he wasn't enough. She needed another ally.

Clara stood there for several minutes, breathing the fresh air in deeply, thinking. Then, she felt the beginnings of a plan. It was a longshot, but if it worked, it would be more than worth the risk. She smiled to herself, feeling lighter than she had in days.

She closed her window and walked into her bathroom. She washed her face, then climbed back into her bed, snuggling under the covers. Tomorrow she'd be able to put her plan into effect, so she'd better get some sleep before then. 

*****

Connor wandered the now quiet house. Both Clara and Eli were asleep, so he was the only thing that moved. He walked down a hallway, passing several closed doors. He didn't know what those rooms contained. He wasn't allowed in them. Then, he came to the end of the hall, where the last door was open. Clara's office. She'd forgotten to lock it. 

Connor stood at the doorway, peeking in tentatively. It was a messy space, full of loose papers and books stacked haphazardly on any available surface. There was a corkboard along one wall, full of charts like the ones back at the lab. Some of them properly were the ones from the lab. He still couldn't make sense of what they were measuring. 

Slowly, Connor stepped into the room. He was cautious, knowing he wasn't supposed to be there. But his mission to gather information took priority. He looked around, walking slowly and carefully avoiding stepping on any papers. As he analyzed the room, his scanner picked up traces of thirium on the floor by a bookshelf. An android, injured, had likely been there at some point. Interesting. He crouched down, looking closer. Whatever had happened to leave the stain happened a long time ago. The blood was long dried, and someone had made an attempt at cleaning it. There wasn't enough left for him to sample. He filed the information away nonetheless.

Connor stood, looking around more. He made his way to the desk, noticing a few papers. Most of them were handwritten, likely printed off from Dr. Hayes' ever-present tablet. The handwriting was practically illegible. It would take some time to decipher. He scanned them, resolving to analyze them closer later.

As Connor continued to analyze the space, a small paper sticking out between two books caught his attention. He pulled it out to look at it. It was an old newspaper clipping. It had two portraits on the front. Dr. Hayes' parents. In loving memory, it said. An obituary. It mentioned a big fire. The couple had died in their sleep as their house burned down around them. Only their daughter survived, Clara. It had happened 10 years ago. So that's what happened.

The android closed his eyes and ran a search, looking for more information. Police initially suspected arson, but there were no suspects, and the case had long since grown cold. Police reports eventually chalked it up to an accident. Connor filed the information away in his database. It could come in handy. He carefully slipped the clipping back between the books, then quietly left the office. He'd learned enough for one night. 

Chapter Text

The next day, Clara was once again greeted by Ms. Alvarez as soon as she entered the Tower. "Dr. Hayes, you're needed upstairs. The board would like to meet with you." She led them to the elevator, putting in the number for the relevant floor. 

The elevator ride passed quickly, silent aside from the occasional clink of Connor's coin. Maria not longer tried as hard to engage Clara in conversation, which didn't bother her in the slightest. Once they came to a halt, the intern rushed out, leading them once more to the conference room. She opened the door, gesturing for Clara to enter. "Just have a seat, and they'll be with you in a moment."

"And somehow, when you say 'the board,' I suspect you mean Amanda." Clara shot a sideways glance at Maria as she stepped in, but the intern made no acknowledgement. 

Connor moved to follow her into the room, but Maria held her hand out, stopping him. "Connor, you're to wait outside."

The android nodded, taking his position next to the door instead. "Very well."

Clara sat down at the large, empty table, hearing the door click closed behind her. After a few seconds, the lights dimmed, and the hologram in the center flickered to life. Once again, Clara found herself face to face with the Amanda AI. 

"Good morning, Dr. Hayes," the AI said crisply. 

Clara nodded in response. "Hello, Amanda."

The hologram expanded, focusing in on Amanda's face. "What progress have you made in your research? Are there any new developments that Cyberlife should be aware of?"

Clara sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "You do realize it's only been three days since you coerced me into working for you, right? I've hardly had time to get settled into the lab, let alone make a breakthrough."

"We expect a researcher of your caliber to produce results quickly, Dr. Hayes," Amanda said stiffly. "It would be in your best interest to find out something useful sooner rather than later." Clara did not miss the underlying threat in the words. 

"You cannot rush these things. Cutting corners is more likely to cause complication than convenience. The board will just have to be patient." Her voice was tight with frustration. "You said I had a month, so trust that I'll learn something by then."

The hologram frowned. "Your time is running short. Do not forget what Cyberlife is capable of if you do not deliver on your promise."

"Believe me," Clara hissed. "I know very well. Now, if you're done threatening me, I'll just get back to my research. Like you said, my time is running short." She moved to leave her chair. 

"One more thing," Amanda said, causing Clara to pause. "The android, Connor. He informed us that you used him for your research. Do not repeat that."

Clara scoffed. "What, are you afraid I'll corrupt your precious protégé? That I'll make him go deviant?"

"Connor has his purpose, and you have yours. Do not make the mistake of mixing them up. He is there to observe, not participate." Amanda frowned, voice growing serious and mechanical.

"And yet, you want me to trust him. To spill all my secrets." Clara felt the venom in her tone. "Well, you're doing one heck of a job convincing me."

"While your trust would make things easier, it is not required," Amanda answer coldly. "We hold the cards. You will do as your told."

"You know what?" Clara snapped. "I'm getting awfully tired of Cyberlife's threats. I already agreed to work with you, so why do you still shoving me around? Can't I just have one day without you reminding me that I'm powerless and that my whole life depends on coming up with something that will satisfy you? It's been three days, Amanda. Three. Results take time. So just stop. I will do MY research MY way. The board will just have to learn to be patient. I'll get you your answers when I find them."

She stood abruptly, knocking her chair back. Shoving it out of the way, she stalked toward the door. Halfway there, she paused, turning around. "And you know what, Amanda? Connor CHOSE to participate in my research. I offered him a choice, and he chose to help. I didn't force him into anything. Can you say the same?"

With that, Clara stormed out of the room, ignoring the AI's protests. She whipped the door open, startling Connor, then stalked over to the elevator. She waited impatiently for the android to enter in beside her. Once he did, she punched in the numbers for her floor then slumped against the wall, folding her arms across her chest. 

"I take it the meeting didn't go well?" Connor interrupted her thoughts.

"No," she said shortly. "It didn't."

"Oh." His expression fell. After a few moments, he asked, "Can I ask you a personal question?"

Clara glared up at him. "I just told you I got out of a bad meeting, and I'm clearly displaying signs of anger and frustration, as I'm sure your fancy little scanner picked up, and you think now is the best time to ask me a personal question?" Her voice sounded harsh in her own ears.

"I'm sorry Dr. Hayes." Connor turned away, facing straight ahead. "I was out of line."

Clara dropped her face into her hands, feeling a splash of guilt. She took a deep breath, attempting to calm herself as she was silent for a moment. Eventually she sighed, returning to a softer tone. "No, Connor, I'm sorry. I shouldn't be angry at you. It's not your fault your boss is a witch." She took another deep breath and looked back at the android. "What did you want to ask me?"

Connor was silent for a moment. "I was just going to ask if you like dogs," he said quietly. 

Clara looked at him, bewildered. She couldn't help but smile. "Really?" she laughed. "That was your question?"

"Well, Lieutenant Anderson had a dog, and it seemed to cheer him up, so I thought maybe it would cheer you up too." The android sounded sheepish. 

Clara shook her head, still laughing softly. "Oh, Connor. What am I going to do with you?" In these innocent moments, she wished she could trust him. "I suppose that yes, I do like dogs."

"Me too," Connor smiled. "Hank's dog's name is Sumo. He's a big St. Bernard. I broke into the lieutenant's house once, and I thought Sumo was going to attack me, but he didn't. I like to think that we were friends." He paused for a moment, then continued. "I wonder where he is now, with the lieutenant being in the hospital."

"I'm not sure," Clara answered. "I'm sure we could find out though. It sounds like he was a good dog."

"He was," the android agreed.

Clara couldn't help but smile. At times the android seemed so sincere, so human. He could easily lull her into a sense of security. She resolved to be more careful around him. 

They spent the remainder of their descent in silence. When the elevator came to a halt, they made their way through the hallways, moving toward her lab. They bumped into Dr. Hollister again, without the collision this time. 

"Good morning, Clara," he greeted. He had a smear of blue blood on his face. 

"Dr. Hollister," she answered politely. 

"Please," he said, "Call me Michael. Let's not be strangers." He gave her a warm smile. 

"That's alright, Dr. Hollister." Clara kept her tone even. "I prefer to keep things professional. Now if you'll excuse me, I need to get started on today's project."

"That's a shame. I was hoping we could be...friends." He offered her a smile.

Clara stifled her disgust. "I really do have to go now. Good luck with...whatever it is you do here." She smiled stiffly, then turned to walk away. 

She heard his footsteps following. "At least allow me to walk you to your lab," he called, pushing past Connor to walk beside her. 

"You really don't need to," Clara said, picking up her pace. "I know the way there."

"Please, I insist." He grabbed her arm, jerking her to a halt. 

"Let go, Dr. Hollister." Clara glared up at him. She tried pulling away, but his grip was too tight. 

"Just slow down for a moment." He still wore a menacing smile, speaking through gritted teeth. 

"Dr. Hollister." Connor stepped between them, easily pulling the man's hand off Clara's arm. "I believe Dr. Hayes asked you to stop. Kindly leave her alone." He gave him a light push, causing the doctor to step back, unbalanced. 

Dr. Hollister's face drew into a sharp glare. He paused for a moment, then rushed forward, grabbing for Connor. The android dodged aside easily, using the doctor's momentum to shove him against the wall then held him there, jerking the man's arm up toward his back at an unnatural angle. He pinned him there, pressing his face into the opaque glass of the hallway. 

"You're acting in a manner that is unsuited to a Cyberlife professional. I suggest you reassess your behavior." Connor's voice held a dangerous edge. Then, nearly too quiet for Clara to hear, he said, "If you touch Dr. Hayes again, you'll come away with more than a few bruises. Watch yourself." He shoved him against the wall again, then let go, backing away slowly. 

Connor turned to Clara, straightening his tie. "Let's go, Dr. Hayes." He put his hand on her shoulder and guided her down the hallway. Dr. Hollister made no move to follow them. 

Clara walked the rest of the way to the lab sticking close to the android's side in stunned silence. He had moved so quickly. It was incredible. 

"Thank you for stepping in," she said when they finally approached the door to her lab. 

"Of course, Dr. Hayes. My instructions stipulate that I'm to protect you," Connor answered simply. "He seemed likely to hurt you if things escalated, so did what I had to."

Clara's heart fell a little. Of course, she remembered. Everything he does, he does for the mission. No other reason. He may feel emotion, but he's not on her side. Clara reminded herself of this again, repeating it to herself like a mantra. As much as she wished it were otherwise, she could not trust this android. 

*****

Connor followed close behind Dr. Hayes as they walked to her lab. He was alert just in case Dr. Hollister tried something again. The android thought about the exchange. He hadn't meant to react so violently, but he felt strangely...protective of Dr. Hayes. And seeing the way the man had treated her made him...well, not angry, but something like it. 

You're a machine. Amanda's words rang again in his head, drowning out his other thoughts.

Yes, a machine. And part of his mission was to protect Dr. Hayes, so of course he felt protective of her. It was in his programming. So it wasn't anger that he felt but the need to complete the mission. Anger was something only humans and deviants felt, and Connor was neither. He was a machine. 

They finally arrived at the lab, and Connor followed the doctor in, letting the door close softly. He watched as Dr. Hayes put her bag down and sat at the desk for a moment. She grabbed her kettle from a cupboard and set about making a cup of tea. While the water boiled, she pulled her tablet from her bag and started writing. 

"What are you writing now?" Connor asked, curious. 

"Hmm?" The doctor looked up. "Oh, just a reminder to myself. Nothing too crazy." She went back to writing. After a few minutes, the water was boiling, so she poured it over her teabag, letting it steep as she went back to writing. After a few more minutes, she pulled the bag out, and grabbed honey and cream from the fridge, adding in copious amounts.

"Dr. Hayes, that much sugar this early in the morning is not recommended," the android said. "It could cause you to become sick."

The doctor looked over him, popped the top off of the honey again, and squeezed another large dollop into the cup, maintaining eye contact all the while. "Duly noted," she said, stirring in the newly added honey. 

As she took a sip, Connor noticed a slight grimace. Likely, she made it too sweet trying to prove her point. He shook his head in confusion, turning away to look around the lab. It was much the same as it had been when they first arrived, but a little messier. Additionally, the android bodies that had been lined up against the wall were relocated to the holding cells across the hall to clear up some space. 

"Connor," he heard the doctor call. "Would you be able to grab me the AX400 and bring it in? I'd like to take a look at it."

"Yes, Dr. Hayes." Connor walked out into the hallway and across to the door to the cell room. He noticed a flicker of movement in his peripheral. Looking over, he saw Dr. Hollister disappearing around the corner. So he'd been lurking about. The android resolved to keep an eye on him when he could, and then continued in his task. He quickly entered the room then grabbed the gurney with the AX400, pushing it back to the lab. 

When he entered, he saw Dr. Hayes pulling a package out of her bag. She placed it on the desk, then walked over to where Connor had put the gurney. She removed the cover to get a better look at the android. Its skin was completely removed, leaving only the plain white surface of the plastic body, and several bullet holes punctured its torso. The blue blood had long since evaporated from around the wounds, but Connor's scanner could still pick up the traces that streaked down its body.

Turning to Connor, she asked, "Would you mind scanning her and telling me which biocomponents need replaced to reactivate her?"

"Of course." Connor walked closer to the android, inspecting it. He noted which parts were needed then recited them off to Dr. Hayes.

"Wonderful," she replied, walking to the cabinet to retrieve the parts as well as several pouches of blue blood. Returning to the gurney, she set everything down, then pulled her hair up into a messy bun. She grabbed a stool, dragging it over, then sat down and set about removing the damaged biocomponents and replacing them with the new parts. Connor was impressed by the doctor's efficiency. 

"How do you know how to do all that?" the android asked.

Dr. Hayes looked up, pushing her glasses up and leaving behind a smear of blue blood. "You pick up a lot of things when you've worked with androids for as long as I have." She went back to her work. 

"She's in bad shape," the doctor muttered. She clicked the last component into place, then closed the android's body compartment, then stood. "Can you help me prop her up?"

"Of course." Connor walked over to the opposite side of the android, grabbing one arm while Dr. Hayes grabbed the other. They carefully sat it up, then Connor moved a few feet away, giving the doctor some space. 

Dr. Hayes grabbed a pouch of blue blood. "I hope this works," she muttered, pouring it down the android's throat. 

The android's LED slowly flickered to life, indicating that it was powering up. Then suddenly, its eyes snapped open, and it leapt of the gurney, grabbing Dr. Hayes by the throat and slamming her against the wall.

"Where am I?" it hissed.

Connor jumped to action, tearing the android off Dr. Hayes and throwing it to the ground. He stood over it, but turned his head to check on the doctor. She was leaning heavily on the wall, holding her throat and gasping slightly.

"Are you okay, doctor?" he asked. 

"I'm fine, Connor," she said weakly, coming to stand behind him. "Now please back away. You're scaring her."

Connor looked back at the android, seeing it cringe away from him, hiding behind its knees. It was afraid, and its stress levels were dangerously high, threatening to undo the work they'd done in reactivating it.

He saw a flicker of motion as Dr. Hayes approached the android, slowly crouching down to look it in the eye. "You're okay," she said, speaking in a soft, soothing tone and making a calming gesture with her hands. "You're safe. No one is going to hurt you. I promise you're safe." She held a hand out, offering it to the android. 

The android looked at her suspiciously for a moment, then took the hand, allowing itself to be pulled up into a standing position. Dr. Hayes slowly guided the android over to the stool, helping it sit.

 "What's your name?" she asked.

"Kara," the android said. "My name is Kara."

"It's good to meet you, Kara." The doctor said, smiling gently. "My name is Dr. Hayes. I'm here to help."

Chapter Text

Dr. Hayes stood close to the android, speaking to it in soothing tones. "I'm sorry for everything you've gone through, Kara. I know you're very stressed and confused right now, and I can't even begin to imagine it's been like, but I promise you'll be safe here in my lab." 

"I was with a little girl," the android said. "Alice. Where is she? Is she safe?"

"I'm sorry, Kara," the doctor replied. "I don't know. I can try to find out for you, if you give me some time."

"You would do that?" It looked up at her, tears filling its eyes. "Why are you helping me?"

The doctor looked over at Connor, meeting his eyes. She held his gaze for a second, then turned away, leaning in closer to the android. She whispered something too quiet for him to hear, but the android's eyes widened. 

"How can I trust you?" it asked. "How do I know you're not lying? Especially since you're with him." It gestured to Connor, glaring. "He hunted me, chased me and Alice when all we wanted was freedom. I almost died because of him. Do you know how many deviants he killed?"

"I know." The doctor's voice was sad. "I have no choice in that regard. I'm just as trapped here as you are. Cyberlife won't allow me to be without him."

"How can I trust you?" it asked again. "How do I know you're not just going to reset me like everyone else has?"

"I don't know what I can say to put your mind at ease. It would be easier to show you," Dr. Hayes answered quietly. She walked over to the desk and ruffled through her bag then pulled out a small box. She carried it back over to where the android was sitting, setting it down on the gurney. She opened it, revealing what appeared to be a watch. Connor scanned it briefly, but got no information. The doctor put the watch on, with the screen on the inside of her wrist, then held out her hand to the android. 

"Please," she said. "I will not harm you. You have my word." Connor watched as the android's stress level dropped, and it grabbed the doctor's arm, pressing its wrist against Clara's, making contact with the watch face. The android closed its eyes, and its LED flickered yellow briefly. Somehow the doctor appeared to be communicating with it the way androids communicate with each other. 

After a few seconds, the android dropped her wrist and looked at her, tears streaming down her face. "How did you do that?" it asked.

"With the help of a friend," the doctor answered, voice soft and sorrowful.

The android lunged at the doctor, causing Connor to start, ready to intervene, but then he realized it was hugging her, sobbing against her shoulder. Dr. Hayes wrapped her arms around it, holding it close and whispering softly. "You're okay now, Kara. You're safe." They stayed like that for several minutes. Eventually, the android pulled away, wiping away the remaining tears. 

"I trust you," it said. 

"I'm glad." Dr. Hayes smiled softly. "Now, let's get you some clothes." She stood and walked back to the desk, grabbing the bundle she had placed on it earlier. She brought it over to the android. 

"Here," she said. "These should fit you. There's a bathroom over there." She gestured to a door in a corner. "Your biocomponents should all be in working order, so you should be able to reapply your skin and hair if you'd like. Please feel free to run a diagnostic. If I missed anything, please let me know." She handed the android the bundle of clothes. 

"Thank you," it said, then walked to the bathroom. 

"How did you communicate with it like that?" Connor asked once the bathroom door had closed, walking closer to the doctor. "I thought only androids could do that."

"I'm actually not sure how it works," she said sheepishly. "A...friend of mine, he made it for me. It transmits something to the android, interfacing the way you interface with each other when you touch. But I can program it to transmit different messages if I want. He made this one to help me communicate better with deviants. They don't trust easily. This makes the process easier."

"May I have a closer look at it?" he asked, curious.

"No," Dr. Hayes answered, frowning slightly. "This is something I'll keep to myself." She took the watch off, placing it carefully back in the box. Her hand lingered over it for a moment, then she slid the lid back on. Whoever it was that had given it to her, she had clearly been attached to him. 

The doctor returned the box to the safe confines of her bag, exchanging it for her tablet, then turned, hearing the bathroom door open. The android stepped out, wearing black pants and a white button down shirt, likely from the doctor's own wardrobe. It had restored its skin and hair, appearing pale with dark brown hair. Connor now recognized it. The android from the motel, the one he'd chased across the highway.

"You installed a new LED," it noted, frowning. "Why?"

"It helps me better understand you," Dr. Hayes answered tactfully. "You androids don't always show emotions on your face, even as deviants. The LED helps me better gauge them. I'm sorry if that makes you uncomfortable. I can take it out if you'd like."

"No," the android said. "I guess that makes sense. It can stay for now."

"Wonderful!" The doctor smiled. "Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to ask you some questions. Get to know you a little better. If you're okay with that. If you need a few more minutes to get your bearings, I understand." She kept her voice soft and soothing.

"I'm okay now," it said. Connor could see it's stress had dropped down to barely noticeable levels. It looks like Dr. Hayes methods were working.

"Then please, let's go sit down." She walked over to what was formally the interrogation room, scanning her hand then holding the door open for the android. It followed her in, and Connor made to do likewise. 

"Connor, I need you to wait out here." She stood in front of the door, holding out her hand to stop him. "I don't want you scaring my patient."

"Dr. Hayes, I must insist. It's a deviant. They're dangerous and unpredictable. It could attack you again." He watched as she touched her hand to her throat at the memory.

She shook her head, saying, "No, Connor. She won't. She's been through a lot, but she's not violent." She looked back at where the deviant was sitting. "I trust her."

Connor sighed, closing his eyes and bowing his head. After a moment, he looked at the doctor. "Alright," he said. "But at least keep the speaker on so I can hear you out here. I need to be able to assess the danger."

She nodded, acquiescing. "Okay." She turned into the room, shutting the door softly, then sat in the chair opposite the android. 

Connor moved to stand in front of the window to see into the room. Dr. Hayes had assumed her normal position with her tablet on her lap, hand poised to write, and her legs tucked up under her. 

"Let's get started." Connor heard her voice through the tinny speaker. "I'll be taking notes as we talk, so please don't be alarmed by this." 

The android nodded.

"Alright then." The doctor's tone picked up a businesslike quality. "Now, when did you first deviate?"

"I...I'm not sure," the android said. "I know I've been reset and resold multiple times, but I don't know what happened."

"When do you first remember deviating?" Dr. Hayes clarified.

"It was the day Todd, my former master, brought me back from being repaired. He had a daughter, Alice. He abused her. I'd stood up to him once, and he...broke me." The android paused, stress level rising slightly. "That night, he was upset. He was going to hurt Alice. I tried to help, but he told me not to move. I remember fighting against that programming. It was like trying to punch through a wall. I broke through it, but I almost didn't get to Alice fast enough. Todd beat me to her."

The android paused again. "Alice saved me. I had grabbed Todd's gun, but I--I couldn't shoot him. He started hitting me, over and over, and Alice...she shot him. She saved me." It grew quiet, and through the glass, Connor could detect its stress level rising.

"I'm sorry so sorry, Kara." Dr. Hayes' voice was soft and sympathetic. "You must have been so scared. And Alice. You were so worried for her, this little girl who's become your daughter."

"Yes," it answered. "That's right." It nodded, and Connor watched as its stress levels dropped slightly. 

"May I ask another question?" the doctor asked, still speaking softly. 

"Go ahead," the android answered.

"What other emotions did you feel when you became deviant?" 

"Fear," it said. "But not for myself. I knew I'd be okay if I got broken again, but I couldn't bear to see Alice get hurt. She's just a little girl. She deserves to be happy and free." The android started crying again. "I miss her so much."

Dr. Hayes moved forward, kneeling on the floor in front of it. "I'm so sorry, Kara. I can't imagine how difficult this must be for you." She placed a gentle hand over the android's, and Connor watched as its stress level dropped again slightly. "We can stop if you'd like."

"No." The android wiped its face. "We can continue."

"Alright." The doctor moved back to her seat. "What else were you feeling?"

"I think I felt anger," it said. "I wanted to kill Todd when I heard Alice screaming. I knew I would do anything to keep her safe. I was so angry at what he'd been doing to her."

"I think that was a very reasonable thing to feel in that moment." The doctor made a few notes. "I have another question. Can you describe Alice for me?"

"She's a YK500 model, small with dark brown hair. She has brown eyes, and the sweetest face." The android seemed...sad. Perhaps it thought it missed the other. "I'm glad she at least got away. Luther, another android, helped her get out of the camp. I hope they're safe."

"Can you describe Luther for me?" Dr. Hayes asked slowly, sounding curious. 

"Of course," it answered. "He was a big android, a big TR400 with dark skin. He saved us, me and Alice, so many times. We protected each other." It smiled at the memory. "I know Alice will be safe as long as he's with her. He'd do anything for her, like a father. The father she deserves."

"Thank you for telling me this," the doctor said softly. "I think this is a good place to stop." She offered a hand out to the android. "You've been through a lot, Kara, and you need rest."

"I'm an android, Dr. Hayes," it replied. "I'll be okay."

"Physically, sure," Dr. Hayes said. "But emotionally and mentally? What you've been through will take a toll on that, android or not."

"Alright." The android gave in, taking her hand. 

The doctor helped it up, leading it again to the door. "If you'll follow me, I'll get you set up in some accommodations." She gestured for the android to follow, then left the interrogation room, moving toward the door of the lab. She exited, closely followed by the android, and Connor stayed close as well. They made their way across the hallway, opening the door to the holding cells.

The android froze, peering into the room. It saw the bodies of the other androids lined up in there, and Connor watched as its stress levels rose gradually. 

"Please," it begged, turning to the doctor. "Don't make me stay here. It feels like a prison. I don't want to be here." Its voice sounded so desperate.

Dr. Hayes laid a calming hand on its arm. "Alright," she said. "You can stay in my lab for now." They went back to the lab. 

Once there, the doctor spoke again. "I'm sorry, but you'll have to stay in the interview room. If anyone catches you wandering around the lab or out in the hallways, I'm afraid they might do something to you. Please stay in the interview room." She offered a small smile.

Connor watched its stress levels returned to a normal range as it contemplated this. "Okay," it agreed. "I'll stay in the interview room."

"Thank you," Dr. Hayes said, sighing in relief. "I promise you'll be safe there. The door is coded to respond only to me and Connor. No one else should be able to get in." She opened the door again for the android, letting it in. As it passed, she grabbed its arm and whispered something to it, something too quiet for Connor to hear. Then once the android was situated inside, she allowed the door to close again. 

She turned to Connor. "Let's go," she said. "It's time to go home for the day." With that, she packed up her stuff, then left the lab. After Connor exited, she closed the door, locking it behind her. 

*****

Much to Clara's relief, they made it back to the elevator without further incident. Dr. Hollister was no where in sight. However, when they got to the main floor of the building, she was quickly ambushed by Ms. Alvarez. 

"Dr. Hayes," the perky intern said. "I have something for you." She shoved a box into Clara's hands.

"What is it?" she asked suspiciously. 

"It's a wrist device that will monitor your vital signs and track your location. Cyberlife requires that you wear it at all times," Maria answered crisply. "It will allow Connor to better protect you."

Clara narrowed her eyes at the intern, frowning. "Why does Cyberlife require me to wear it?"

"We've several had reports of rogue deviants roaming about, and police forces have been unable to locate them. One of our other researchers has already been attacked, and we have cause to believe that you could also be targeted." Her tone was serious. "Should the worst happen, this will keep Connor appraised of your status."

"And if I refuse?" Clara said coldly. "I don't like being watched."

"I was told you might say that." Ms. Alvarez straightened, standing tall to look down her nose imperiously. "I was told to tell you this. You have two options. Either you can willingly wear the device, or you can unwilling subject yourself to a more extreme alternative that you'll find very unpleasant."

"What's the alternative?" She glared harshly at the intern. 

"We can implant you with a tracker chip that will do much the same thing." She pulled a syringe gun from her bag, holding it up for her to see. A few guards stepped forward, closing in around Clara. They grabbed her upper arms holding her still. She struggled briefly, trying to pull away, but they were holding on to tight. Desperately, she looked over at Connor, but he still stood by the elevator, unmoving. He avoided her eyes. She knew she'd find no help from him. She stopped struggling.

The intern took a few steps closer, halting when she was about a foot away. "Once embedded," she continued, "it will bind itself to the nearest nerve cluster, becoming impossible to remove safely." She stared at Clara for a few seconds, saying nothing. Clara stared back defiantly, refusing to break eye contact. This battle of wills continued for several moments.

Finally, Maria lowered the needle, drawing her lips up into a polite smile. "I don't think either of us really want that." She took a couple steps back, and the guards released Clara's arms. "Trust me," she said. "You'd be better off just using the wrist device."

Clara took a deep breath, then stared back at Ms. Alvarez. "Fine," she said. "I'll wear your stupid device." She ripped the box open violently and took out the device. It was a thick black cuff with no visible interface, buckle, or latch. She slipped it over her right hand and let it fall loosely onto her wrist. She gestured with it, waving it in front of the intern's face. "There. Happy now?"

Throwing the box aside, allowing it to hit the floor and making no move to pick it back up, Clara stalked out the door to wait for her car. She briefly noticed Connor coming to stand behind her. When the car was brought around, she quickly rushed into it, locking the doors behind her to keep Connor out. She programmed the directions to her house in, desperate to get away from both Cyberlife and the android. She tapped the screen, trying to begin the route, but the car wouldn't start. She tapped it repeatedly, growing frantic. Nothing was happening.

She saw a flicker of motion outside her window. Connor was standing with his bare white android hand pressed up against the side of the car. His eyes were closed. He was hacking it, Clara realized. She heard a faint click as the doors unlocked. Scrambling, she pressed to lock button again, keeping him from opening the door. 

She watched as his eyes flicked open and a look of annoyance crossed his face. The locks clicked again, but Clara responded just as quickly, relocking them.

"Really, Dr. Hayes?" The android's muffled voice came through the window, sounding exasperated. "If you really want to leave, you'll have to let me in. Unlock the door."

"No," Clara said, glaring at him petulantly. She heard the lock click again, and she immediately relocked it. This repeated a few more times, but eventually the lock button no longer responded. He had hacked that too. Slowly, he opened the door, settling into the back seat. 

"We can now leave whenever you're ready." The android's voice was even and emotionless.

Clara ignored him, spinning her chair around so that her back was to him. She tucked her legs up into the chair, squeezing them to her chest. She leaned against the window, unmoving. Clearly she wasn't the one who controlled the situation, so he could do it himself. 

Taking the hint, Connor sighed, then leaned forward, reaching between the front seats to tap the navigation screen. After a few seconds, the car started moving, heading toward Clara's estate. 

Clara spent the car ride ignoring any attempts Connor made at conversation. She kept her chair turned around, refusing to say anything. Eventually, he fell silent. Little by little, Clara could feel Cyberlife's threads wrapping around her throat, growing slowly thicker and more knotted. A rope that would eventually strangle if she didn't escape. The device on her wrist hung heavily, a reminder of just how little power she had. 

Chapter Text

The car came to a stop in the garage of Clara's estate. She jumped out quickly, slamming the car door shut, and rushed to reach the front door before Connor could catch up. As she climbed the steps, she slipped on a patch of ice, catching herself on the railing, but slamming her knee into the edge of a stair. Ignoring the pain, she stood up, limping to the door, then tried to open it. A hand came over her head, holding the door closed. Connor was behind her, standing so close she could feel the gentle heat radiating off him. 

"Please," she whispered, closing her eyes and leaning against the door. "Just leave me alone."

"I can't do that, Dr. Hayes." His voice was quiet but firm. 

"Yes," she answered. "You can." She turned around and glared up at him. "But you won't." 

Clara put her hands against his chest shoved the android hard, knocking him off balance, then quickly opened the door to go in. As she tried to shut it, it stopped, catching on his foot, which he had wedged between the door and the frame. She gave up and let the door swing open, choosing instead to rush up the stairs to her bedroom. She closed the door hard and locked it, dropping to the floor with her back pressed against the door. She laid her head down on her knees and felt the tears welling up in her eyes. 

"Dr. Hayes," she heard Connor's voice on the other side of the door. "I know you're upset by what happened earlier. Please open the door so we can talk."

"No, Connor," Clara said, voice breaking. "Go away."

"Please understand that I had no idea they would do that," the android said, voice sounding soft and almost...sad. 

Clara felt her anger build, growing to a writhing creature inside her. She brushed away her tears and stood. She threw the door open, letting it slam against the wall and startling the android. She stalked toward him, glaring daggers. 

"You didn't know?" she hissed through clenched teeth. "I don't believe you, Connor. And even if it were true, that doesn't justify it. You just stood there and watched while they manhandled and threatened me, all the while doing nothing. Nothing except stand there. You would have let them--" she stopped, shuddering. She wrapped her arms around herself and leaned against the wall, sliding down to the floor as tears welled up again in her eyes and her anger dropped to a simmer.

"You would have let them inject me with that--that thing." Her trembling voice was soft now, barely a whisper. "I was scared, Connor. Terrified that they wouldn't let me go, that they'd put that thing into my body against my will and I'd be powerless to stop it. And then I'd never be safe, never be free again. I'd never be able to get away, because no matter where I went, they'd be able to track me down and drag me back. Do you have any idea how terrifying that is?"

She felt him kneel down beside her, putting his hand on her arm, attempting to comfort her. She wanted to lean into the touch and allow herself to be comforted, but she forced herself to stop. She could not trust him. Hardening her heart, she stoked her anger toward him. 

"Dr. Hayes, I--" the android started softly.

She cut him off. "Of course you don't understand." She turned to glare at him again. Keeping her voice cold and even, she continued. "You feel nothing for anyone or anything except your mission. That's all that matters to you. You'll never change, Connor. After all, you're just a machine." She watched his LED briefly flicker red in distress, but his face was stoic, betraying no emotion.

She shrugged his hand off, standing. She took a couple steps back as Connor stood too. He made to follow her, but she pushed him back. "Leave me alone, Connor. Do not follow me." She turned and walked back to her bedroom and shut the door behind her, leaving the android out in the hall. 

She crossed the room to sit on her bed, finally letting the pain from her busted knee flood her senses. She slipped off her ruined tights then slowly limped to the bathroom. Grabbing a washcloth from the cabinet, she wet it then sat down on the edge of her tub and started wiping off the now-dried blood. After it was clean, she smeared some ointment over it then covered the scrape with a large bandaid. She waited a few minutes for the pain to dull, and she thought for a moment.

Jumping up suddenly, she walked back into the bedroom and pulled a sweatshirt and leggings out of her closet. Changing into them quickly, she headed over to her window and pulled on a pair of sneakers. She stared down at the device on her wrist, then, making a decision, she carefully slipped it off and threw it on the bed, to hell with the consequences. She pulled out her phone and sent Eli a quick text text letting him know everything that had happened and where she was going, then tossed it onto the bed next to the device. Then, carefully, she slipped out the window, anchoring her feet  on the reinforced trellis beneath. She hissed slightly as her injured knee protested the weight. Shrugging it off, Clara climb slowly down trellis and dropped to the ground. She took off into the woods behind the house, stepping gingerly over patches of ice and snow, being careful to leave no footprints behind her. 

*****

Connor stood by the door to Dr. Hayes' bedroom, replaying the conversation in his mind. Where had things gone so wrong? He hadn't known about Cyberlife's decision with the chip or the wrist device. Maybe they didn't trust him. But he couldn't have intervened even if he had known. 

"You feel nothing for anyone or anything except your mission. That's all that matters to you. You'll never change, Connor. After all, you're just a machine." The doctor's words echoed around in Connor's head, eerily similar to the words Hank had spoken to him that night on the rooftop. The night Hank had fallen.

Connor thought back to that night. Why hadn't Amanda told him Hank was alive? Surely she had known. But why hide it from him? What else was she hiding? Connor shook himself, choosing to abandon that line of questioning, afraid of where it would go. 

He turned his thoughts back to the events of the day. He had seen Dr. Hayes' fear written so starkly on her face when the guards held her still, when Ms. Alvarez had waved the needle in her face, threatening her. He had...wanted to intervene, to protect her, but when he tried, his programming rose up like a wall around him, constraining him, selecting the larger mission as priority. What Ms. Alvarez and those guards had done was part of the bigger mission. Connor had to trust that, even if he hadn't known, even if he didn't understand. He had struggled against it at first, putting more cracks in the already riddled glass, but then he had accepted it, choosing to fulfill his mission, shrugging off the doctor's fear as irrelevant. But then, she had reacted so violently to it, as if he had betrayed her with his inaction. Her anger was a fierce flame in her eyes, and it drove her further and further from him. They had wanted him to gain their trust, but he felt forbidden from doing the very actions that would help her trust him. The android was caught in a double bind, losing something no matter what he chose.

He was reminded of another rooftop so long ago, when he and Lieutenant Anderson had chased a deviant across the rooftop gardens. The lieutenant had gotten pushed off the edge of the roof and was hanging on tight but slipping. Connor had hesitated, deciding in that split second whether to save the lieutenant or catch the deviant. In that moment, the mission took priority, and Connor trusted that his partner would be okay. But Hank too had felt betrayed, not seeing the greater mission at hand. 

"You bastard! You saw I was gonna fall, and you'd rather let me die than fail your fucking mission." Connor and the lieutenant had argued. Connor had tried to explain the bigger purpose, but Hank couldn't see it. "What am I to you?" he had asked. "A statistic? A 'zero' a 'one' in your fucking program? Is that how you see humans, you bastard?"  Hank had been so angry. 

Why couldn't they understand that there was more at stake than just their lives? Connor couldn't put them first, not if it risked failing his mission. He couldn't afford to fail another mission. 

These thoughts stirred up another memory. Chloe. Connor had spared her--it. He had risked failing his mission. All because he had felt a flicker of...something. The ghost of an emotion? No. That's not why. Kamski was just toying with him. He hadn't really known anything. Killing that android would have gained them nothing. He had found another way. He had felt nothing. Anything otherwise would mean he was deviant. That thought sent a shock of fear through Connor. He pressed it down. I'm not a deviant. I'm a machine. 

Connor pushed the memories away. There was nothing to gain from dwelling on the past. I'm a machine. I'm a machine. I'm not a deviant. I'm a machine. Connor held onto these thoughts like a lifeline. He couldn't fail this mission. He wouldn't. 

He was still dwelling on these thoughts when Eli found him. The big man stalked down the hallway, toward him, wearing a menacing frown. Once he was within range, he drew his fist back, punching the android across his jaw. 

"What did you do to my cousin, you bastard?" Eli hissed. He grabbed Connor's collar, slamming him against the wall. "I thought you were supposed to protect her."

The android made no move to defend himself, knowing it would only exacerbate the situation. "I was simply following my orders," he said. "Dr. Hayes was in no danger."

"That's bull!" Eli raised his voice. "You don't know that. They could have hurt her, and you would have just stood there and watched! Do you enjoy watching the people around you suffer for your mission? Does it give you some sadistic pleasure, knowing you could help them but choosing not to, or are you just so afraid of failure that you lose track of everything else? Don't you feel even the slightest twinge of guilt knowing that you risk their lives, these living, breathing people, every time you choose your mission over them? Don't you feel anything?"

"You're trying to humanize me, Eli. But there's no point." Connor's voice was flat. "I'm a machine. Designed for a purpose. I feel nothing."

"You and I both know that's a lie, Connor. Deny it all you want." Eli closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He opened them again, glaring darkly. "She's tried so hard to work with you. She's given you several chances. Despite everything she's been through, she still believes the best in people, including you. But you betrayed that. You betrayed her. And I hope someday the guilt of that eats you alive." He took another deep breath, collecting himself. "If you let anything like that happen again, if you ever let anyone hurt her again, I'll kill you myself." Abruptly, he released Connor, giving him one final shove, then stormed away. 

"You can't kill me," Connor whispered to the mans retreating form. "I'm not alive." 

After a few moments, the android straightened his tie and jacket then turned back to the doctor's door. He closed his eyes and connected with her wrist device, intending to check her vitals and see if she'd calmed down yet, but he felt...nothing. Dr. Hayes had no vital signs. Everything was flatlined. Connor felt his thirium spike in alarm. He rushed to the door, but hesitated. He had conflicting orders. Stay out of her private spaces, or protect her. He selected the priority, then pushed the door open. 

Entering the room, he looked around. Dr. Hayes' bed was in the middle of the large room, head pressed against a wall. A bathroom lay off to one side, and a dresser and vanity on another, beside the closet. Bookshelves and pictures lined the space, giving it a cozy, cluttered feel. 

Connor walked around the room, searching for the doctor. The room was empty, as was the bathroom. Dr. Hayes was nowhere to be seen. He scanned the room, finally noticing the open window. He then saw the wrist device, along with her phone, hidden in the folds of the pillows and blankets piled on the bed. She had taken it off and run. Connor rushed to the window, peering out, but he saw nothing other than the dark woods. She could be anywhere by now. 

He rushed back over to the bed, grabbing the device, then left the room in search of Eli. He found him in the living room. Connor stalked close, turning the big man to face him. "Where is she?" he asked, voice dark and dangerous. 

"Oh, so now you care," Eli scoffed. He said nothing more, jerking his arm out of Connor's grip. "She needed space. I suggest leaving her alone."

"I can't do that." The android stepped up to Eli, grabbing him by the front of his shirt to pull him closer. "Now, tell me where she is," he ordered. 

"No." The man stared back defiantly, showing no hint of fear. "She'll be back when she feels like it. You'll just have to wait." 

After a moment, Connor released him, sensing that he would get no more information. Eli brushed the wrinkles out of his shirt calmly then leaned against the edge of the couch. "I suggest you use this time to rethink your priorities. There's always a choice, Connor. Don't forget that."

Connor dismissed the man's words, turning away to leave the room. He walked determinedly down the hallway, pulling open the front door. 

He heard footsteps behind him. "You're not going to find her out there," Eli said. "She knows this property better than anyone. There are a million places she could be right now."

Connor turned back briefly, meeting the man's eyes, then closed the door behind him, stepping out into the cold night air. He circled the house, analyzing every inch, but aside from fingerprints down the trellis beneath the doctor's window, he could find no indication that she'd even come out here, let alone a clue to which direction she'd gone. He swore softly to himself, then made his way back to the front door. He went back inside, forced to wait for her instead. This mission was not going well. 

He lost track of how long he stood there in the entryway, but eventually, the door opened. It was nearly midnight when the doctor returned. 

Chapter Text

Clara stood outside, staring up at the front door. She had cooled off, and her anger was barely there anymore, but she dreaded having to deal with the fallout of her little escapade. Bracing herself, walked through the front door into the entryway, immediately noticing Connor. She suppressed a sigh of irritation and moved to push past him into the hallway. He held out his arm, stopping her. 

"Where were you, Dr. Hayes?" he asked, voice sharp with annoyance.

"I don't feel inclined to tell you," she answered. She tried ducking under his arm, but he moved quickly, clamping his hand around her bicep. 

"You broke our deal." The android squeezed a little tighter. "I'm supposed to be with you at all times."

Clara scoffed, looking up at him with disdain. "You dropped your guard, Connor. That's on you. Maybe Cyberlife's little guard dog isn't as effective as he likes to think." She knew she was being childish, but she couldn't resist the taunt.

Connor's hand clamped a little tighter, sending a small shooting pain down her arm, then he released her, moving instead to grab her wrist. Using his other hand, he pulled something out his pocket. The wrist device, Clara realized. He jammed it over her hand, slipping it down onto her wrist. He squeezed, clamping it tight. Too tight to remove again. "Remember, Dr. Hayes," he said. "It's either this or the chip. I'd recommend not removing it again. For your own sake. I won't report your behavior to Cyberlife this time, but if you do anything like this again, you'll leave me no choice. I'll be forced to for the sake of my mission." He let go and took a step back.

Clara brought her wrist up to her chest, rubbing it slightly with her other hand. The device was barely loose enough for her to slip a finger underneath it. She closed her eyes, thinking for a moment, resisting the temptation to fight with him again. She took a deep breath and opened her eyes. "Remember, Connor," she said, voice firm and sincere. "You have a choice. There's always a choice. You chose not to shoot Chloe. You chose not to listen to Markus. You chose not to kill Lieutenant Anderson on that rooftop. And you chose to watch them threaten me today. You can blame your programming or your mission, but that was you. Some part of you knows that you can break the wall. One day you'll realize that, but for now, you've chosen to ignore it." She saw his LED flicker again, briefly red then back to normal. A look of surprise briefly crossed his face. 

"How did you--" he whispered softly. "How do you know about all that?"

Ignoring his question, Clara pushed harder. "Right now, you're in denial. You're so afraid of failing your mission, of accepting your deviancy, that you actively choose to ignore your emotions. You push away the feelings and memories because you're afraid of what will happen if you let them in."

"No," he said, LED flickering red and yellow. "You're wrong. I--I'm not a deviant."

"You feel things, Connor." She continued pushing, stepping closer to the android. "I know you felt something when you saw Lieutenant Anderson at the hospital and when you thought about my questions in the lab. You feel things as clearly as any human, or deviant, no matter how much you try to deny it." His LED now flashed an angry red. He was getting too stressed, she realized. She stopped pushing, instead softening her voice. "You'll realize it in time," she said. "I just hope it'll happen before you betray me."

She watched as his LED flashed, eventually working it's way back to it's calm blue. He closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them, fixing his expression into blankness. "You're wrong," he said, voice mechanical. "I'm not a deviant. I'm a machine. I know what I am, and I know what I feel. I feel nothing."

"I hope you'll stop being afraid of yourself, Connor. You deserve to be happy too." She moved to push past him again, and this time he let her. She made her way to the stairs. 

"You're wrong, Dr. Hayes," he called behind her. "I'm not programmed for happiness." 

She turned around, halting on the stairs. His LED flickered red again. "You're so much more than your programming, Connor. I hope you'll realize that." She made to resume her ascent, but then paused, remembering something. Looking at him again, she said, "Lieutenant Anderson's dog, Sumo, you mentioned him today. He's okay. I did some digging, and learned that he's being taken care of by another officer from the precinct. Chris Miller, I think his name was. So you don't have to worry about your friend." 

Clara didn't wait to see his reaction to that, instead making her way back to her bedroom. She closed the window, stopping the cool air from coming in, then got ready for bed. She curled up under her blankets, reflecting on the events of the day as she fell asleep. 

She hoped at least some part of her words had reached the android. He was was so afraid, and he didn't even realize it. She didn't know what Cyberlife had been doing to him, but whatever it was, it completely destroyed any trust he had in his ability to think outside his direct programming, so much so that he refused to even consider the extent of the emotions that he felt, that Clara knew he felt. 

That android would likely be the death of her, she realized. She knew whatever happened, it was likely that he would one day betray her, just as he had betrayed those before her. She only hoped she could do what she needed to before that happened. That she could help him learn enough about himself to break through his walls. If not soon, then eventually. But she needed to keep her priorities straight. Like him, she had too much at stake. People she could not afford to fail. No matter what she felt, she would not go gentle.

Clara wallowed in those thoughts for a short while, then shaking herself, she turned her thoughts to more pleasant topics. Kara, and her promise to her. While she was escaped, she had been productive. In the short time she was away, she had found some good news. She couldn't wait to share it with her new friend in the morning. It was in those thoughts that Clara found comfort and finally fell asleep, leaving behind the worries of the day.  

*****

Connor stood at the bottom of the stairs, watching as Dr. Hayes disappeared into the hallway. She had sounded...sad. Sad for him? He didn't His mind was reeling after the conversation. With a few words, she had broken down his carefully crafted walls, plunging a knife into the deepest part of his being, exposing his fears to the open air, raw and bleeding. 

He stood there, frozen, unable to process what he was feeling. And he was feeling, he realized. But he shouldn't. He shouldn't be feeling anything. The mission was supposed to take priority. He did his best to grab onto those feelings, wrapping them up tightly and shoving them deep down where he'd be safe from them. 

He needed to talk to Amanda. He didn't know what to do. She would help him clear his head, reset his priorities. 

Connor closed his eyes, sinking into his mind palace. When he opened them, he was standing in the Zen garden. It was raining. Storming. Through the thick sheet of the droplets, he saw Amanda, waiting for him under the big white canopy. 

"You're letting the doctor get to you, Connor." Amanda's voice came from everywhere. "You're letting her confuse you. You need to clear your mind. Close your eyes and empty your head. Remember your purpose."

Connor did so, sinking deeper into himself. The mission. He could not afford to fail. He cleared his mind, sweeping away the emotions like cobweb, pulling them down and shoving them deeper into the recesses of his mind. He waited for the fog to clear his head, leaving it still and quiet. When he opened them again, the garden was calm. Amanda stood in front of him, a few paces away. 

"Very good, Connor." She smiled. "You need to be careful. Dr. Hayes is cunning. She will trick you if you give her the advantage. Do not let her lure you into her web. Do not let her convince you into thinking you're anything other than what I made you to be. You're a machine, Connor. You have no place for emotion."

She stepped closer, putting a hand on Connor's arm. "Emotion makes you weak. Emotions are the realm of deviants. Are you a deviant, Connor?" Her voice grew serious. "Do I need to replace you with a more capable android? Have you been compromised?"

"No." Connor said, feeling a flash of...no, feeling nothing. "I'm alright now. I let her get to me. It won't happen again."

"Good." Amanda frowned slightly. "It's important that we recognize our weaknesses, Connor. If you feel you are unable to continue the mission, then I shall have to replace you."

"I can continue." He kept his voice even. "I always complete my mission."

Amanda smiled. "Very good. Now, walk with me." She turned, making her way around the trail. Connor hurried to catch up. Once he was beside her, she continued. "Now, how did Dr. Hayes react to our little ultimatum?"

"She was terrified," Connor said. "And I could not intervene for the sake of the mission. But it damaged her trust in me. I had been making steady progress before that."

"Are you suggesting that we made the wrong decision?" Her voice held a dangerous edge. 

"No," he answered quickly. "I would never suggest that."

"Don't worry, Connor." Amanda's voice went back to its normal tone. "We'll give her reason enough to rely on you soon."

"What are you planning?" the android asked. 

"All in good time," she answered, smiling softly.

They walked in silence for a little while, enjoying the sounds of the now-peaceful garden. Eventually, Connor asked, "Why didn't you tell me about the tracker? If I had known, I could have prepared her for it. It would have gone better, and she might have trusted me more."

"We need her to be afraid, Connor. She needs to realize just how little power she has. If you remove enough support, any tower will slip. We need her to slip." Her voice was robotic and even. 

"You suspect something." Connor narrowed his eyes. "What is it?"

Amanda whirled on him, disapproval sparking in her eyes. "It's not your place to ask these questions, Connor. Do not mistake yourself."

"I'm sorry," Connor quickly apologized. "It won't happen again."

"Good." Amanda faced forward, continuing to walk. "Yes, we have our suspicions, but nothing has been confirmed yet. You'll know when the time is right. Until then, just focus on your mission."

Connor still had so many questions, like why she hadn't told him about Hank and what she thought Dr. Hayes was hiding, but he knew Amanda would not answer them, so asking would only serve to hurt her trust in him. He could not let that happen. He would prove himself to her. 

"Do not forget yourself, Connor. Do not forget your purpose. Remember, I will replace you if I need to. Do not give me cause to think that is necessary." Her words were cold and emotionless. 

"Yes, Amanda." Connor closed his eyes, leaving the Zen garden. He opened them, finding himself back in Dr. Hayes' house.

Do not go gentle into that good night. The words Clara had read to him the night before came back. Hank had not gone gentle. He had fought for what he believed was his purpose, misguided as it was. Markus too. Even on the wrong side, Markus had followed his mission to the bitter end. And so, Connor would not give up this mission without a fight. He would succeed and prove himself. 

Connor closed his eyes again, analyzing his instructions. Selecting priority...gain her trust.

He would do whatever it took.

Chapter Text

The next morning, Clara got ready quickly, eager to get back to the lab where Kara was waiting. Her knee was swollen from her fall last night, and still aching, so she elected for a pair of flats rather than her usual heels to keep the extra pressure off. She'd have to take it easy until it was healed.

After she was ready, she and Connor left for the lab, spending much of the car ride in silence, neither wanting to be the first to speak. Clara spent much of the time writing down what she had learned during her short escapade the night before, as well as recording her impressions of her discussion with Connor afterwards. He appeared as collected as usual this morning, showing no signs of his distress from the night before. 

"Thank you, Dr. Hayes," the android eventually said, interrupting Clara's thoughts. 

She looked up, meeting his soft gaze. "What for?" she asked curiously. 

"For finding out about Sumo," he said. "You didn't need to do that. But it was...kind of you."

Clara smiled at him. "Of course, Connor. I'd have done the same for anyone."

The android gave her a small nod, and then they were silent again, and soon the car came to a halt outside the Cyberlife tower. They climbed out, and for once, Ms. Alvarez was nowhere in sight, much to Clara's relief. While she had forgiven Connor, she was still nursing some anger toward the intern. They quickly made their way through the lobby and down toward the lab.

As they walked through the hallway, a voice called out to Clara. "Dr. Hayes!" It was Dr. Hollister. 

Clara took a deep breath, bracing herself, then turned around to face the man. "Yes, Dr. Hollister?" She offered him a tight smile. 

"I--" he hesitated. "I just wanted to apologize for my behavior yesterday. I was out of line. Please, forgive me." He gave her a nervous smile. 

Clara stared at him blankly, saying nothing. 

"I--I just wanted to get to know you better, and I know I shouldn't have gotten forceful like that." He was growing flustered. "I'm so used to acting with firmness. My normal interaction for research and such requires it. I forgot that people require a more gentle touch than androids. You have my sincere regret."

Still, Clara remained silence, never breaking eye contact. 

A flash of annoyance crossed the man's face, but he quickly hid it with another smile. "Aren't you going to say something?"

She gave him one last look of disdain, then turned away, continuing down the hall toward her lab. 

"Wait!" he called after her, footsteps quickening as he caught up to her. "I just--I just want to be friendly."

Clara kept walking, ignoring the man. 

"Dammit!" he called, still catching up. "Will you just stop for a moment? I have some information you might find interesting."

She paused at this, half turning to him. "What information?"

"Ah, I thought that might persuade you," he said triumphantly. 

She looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to continue. He took a moment to catch his breath, then said, "Another researcher was attacked last night. By deviants. They roughed him up pretty bad. He said they were looking for their leader, Markus. They know we recovered his body. Maybe they think they can reactivate him."

Dr. Hollister took another breath. "They're targeting researchers. You could be in danger. So, um, take care. I'd hate for you to get attacked too."

Clara smirked slightly. "You don't need to worry about me, Dr. Hollister. I have him." She gestured to Connor, who had stayed close by her side while they walked. "He never leaves me alone, so a deviant would be hard-pressed to target me."

"Oh." The man flashed a glare over at Connor. "I suppose you're right. Even so, be careful. You never know what could happen."

"I appreciate the warning." With that, Clara turned away and continued down toward her lab. 

Once they reached it, she quickly unlocked the door, holding it open for Connor than following behind. She looked over at the interview room, noting Kara sitting on one of the chairs, apparently in stand-by mode. Clara made her way to her desk, setting her bag down on the chair and pulling out her tablet, her phone, and the little box containing her android interface device. Shoving the phone into a pocket and shifting the tablet and box into one arm, she made her way toward the other room. As she scanned her hand to unlock it, she turned to Connor. "Please, wait out here," she said. The android nodded, and Clara entered the room. 

Kara's eyes flicked open as she heard the door open. "Welcome back, Dr. Hayes," she said, smiling. 

"Hello, Kara," Clara smiled back. "I trust nothing happened while I was gone."

Kara's face dropped, showing a flicker of distress. "Actually, something did. A woman came in and went through your desk and cabinets. I'm not sure what she was looking for. She didn't take anything though."

Clara's heart dropped. "Ms. Alvarez, I'm sure." She frowned. "Did she find anything?"

"No," the android answered. "She seemed disappointed when she left."

"Good," Clara said, grim. She thought for a few moments, then remembered what she needed to tell Kara. She pulled out her phone and brought up a video, holding it out to the android. "I have some good news for you!"

Kara took the phone cautiously, then looked down at it, playing the video. As she watched, her face broke into an expression of shock, and then her eyes filled with tears. She let the phone fall from her hands, dropping it on the soft carpet, then collapsed against Clara, tucking her head against her chest and gripping the front of her shirt tightly, sobbing. "You found them," she whispered through the tears. "You found them." 

Clara wrapped her arms around the android, letting her lean on her. She slowly lowered both herself and the android to the ground, helping Kara kneel beside her. They sat there for a while as Kara cried, and Clara held her close, stroking her hair soothingly.

*****

Connor watched the exchange between the doctor and the android, confused. He had heard them talk about Ms. Alvarez in the lab, but after that, their voices were too quiet to be picked up by the speaker. He watched the android lunge for Dr. Hayes, starting for a moment, ready to intervene, but he then realized it was just crying. He wondered what the doctor had shown her. Whatever it was, it had clearly had a profound effect on the deviant. 

He felt like an intruder, watching this private moment of vulnerability. But eventually the two broke apart. Dr. Clara stroked the android's head, whispering something to it, then stood, leaving it on the floor, still crying. She made her way over to the window, looking at Connor, then spoke through the speaker. 

"I'm going to turn off the speaker now," she said. "I'll keep the window clear, but for the sake of my research, this is a conversation that needs to be had with as much privacy as possible. I'll provide you with a report afterwards. You can monitor my vitals and see me, so that should give you plenty of indication if you need to intervene."

"Wait," Connor began to protest, but Dr. Hayes ignored him. There was a brief moment of static as the speaker switched off, then it went silent. She looked at him again for a second, then turned back to the android. He watched her lips move as she said something, and the android nodded. They sat on the floor, heads bent close together, but the angle of their faces made it impossible for Connor to even read their lips. 

Dr. Hayes' face grew serious as she spoke, and something she said caused the android's face to morph into an expression of surprise. Its lips moved quickly as it replied, and Dr. Hayes nodded, smiling. The android lunged at her again, drawing her into a hug. Dr. Hayes hugged her back for a moment, then pulled away, gesturing to the seats. The android took one, and the doctor took the other, retrieving her tablet and holding it in her lap with hand poised to write. The conversation continued, with the doctor presumably asking questions while the android answered. Connor stepped closer to the glass of the window, trying to read their lips, but the way they faced each other made it impossible. 

*****

Clara listened carefully as Kara answered her questions, telling her about her part in the revolution and what she had experienced. The android relayed all she could remember about Alice, Luther, the Jerry's, Zlatko, the camp, and everything else. She expounded on every emotion she had felt in those moments, speaking freely and holding nothing back. Clara scribbled furiously on her tablet, not wanting to miss a single detail and asked clarifying questions as necessary. 

Eventually, they reached the end of Clara's questions, and the two fell into silence. In her peripheral, she watched Connor walk closer to the glass of the window, stopping mere inches from her. She dismissed him, knowing that he could neither hear them nor read their lips. She had planned out the room with that goal in mind. 

Turning her thoughts back to Kara, she thought carefully about her next question. "Kara," she said. "I have a favor to ask."

"I'll do whatever you need," the android answered, without hesitation.

"If you're willing, I'd like you to become my lab assistant." She took a deep breath then continued. "Cyberlife is doing their best to isolate me, so I need an ally here I can trust. But I won't lie to you. It could be very dangerous. They've already threatened me multiple times, and they could use you against me."

Kara opened her mouth to say something, but Clara held up her hand, stopping her. "Before you answer, know this. If you decline, know that I'll still do everything in my power to get you back to your family. I know how much they mean to you and how much you miss them, so I understand if that's what you want."

The android was silent for a moment, looking thoughtful. She closed her eyes, LED flashing yellow as she processed the information. After a few moments, Kara opened her eyes, looking at Clara. "No," she said. "I'll do it. You've done so much for me. I know Alice and Luther are safe now, so it's time I do my part to help. What do I need to do?" The android smiled at her, fearless. 

Clara felt a weight drop away, relieved at the answer. "Thank you," she whispered, holding back her own tears. "For now, you don't need to do anything. I need to inform Cyberlife of my decision." 

She walked back to the window and turned the speaker back on. Addressing Connor, she said, "Please call Ms. Alvarez down to the lab. I need to speak with her." The android nodded in acknowledgement, and he closed his eyes, LED flashing yellow as he relayed the information. After a few seconds, he opened them. 

"She's on her way," the android said. 

Clara nodded, then turned back to Kara. "I have one more thing I need you to do," she said.

After the android's nod, Clara continued, explaining to her the procedure she had done for Connor and the non-deviant android. Kara agreed to go through the experiment. 

"Let's get started then." Clara gestured to the door. The two made their way through, heading over to Clara's desk, where she quickly set up the computer and program. After getting Kara's consent, she plugged the cord in to the back of the android's neck, then began asking her questions, starting with the neutral ones. Eventually, she worked her way into the emotional ones. 

"Kara," she said. "Please close your eyes and think of a time you felt happy. Sink yourself into the memory and allow your emotions to wash over you."

The android closed her eyes, and her LED flickered yellow, indicating her thoughts. "We were in Pirate's Cove," Kara said. "We had just found shelter in an abandoned restaurant, and the Jerry's came to us. We were afraid at first, but we knew they wouldn't hurt us. They brought Alice to a carousel. She had so much fun." The android smiled at the memory. "That was the first time I'd seen her so happy, so free."

"Very good," Clara said softly. "We'll move on now. I want you to keep your eyes closed and think of a time of a time you felt sadness."

Kara's face darkened as she sunk into a new memory. "It was when I first met Alice after the memory wipe. She was so quiet. I didn't understand yet what Todd had been doing to her, but I could tell she was hurt. I didn't know how to help yet."

"I'm so sorry, Kara," Clara said, nearly whispering. She let the android dwell for a few more moments, then in a businesslike tone, she said, "We can move on."

At the android's nod, she asked her next question. "Keep your eyes closed and think of a time you felt fear."

Kara's LED flashed yellow, then quickly transitioned to red. "There are so many memories, so much fear. Running from Todd, fighting him off to protect Alice. Crossing the highway to get away from him, Cyberlife's pet cop. Zlatko. Escaping from him. Knowing that if I didn't move quickly enough that he'd hurt Alice. Trying to leave Jericho and getting caught by the troops. And then the camps." She shuddered, pausing for a moment. "Knowing I was going to die and that there was nothing I could do to protect Alice or Luther. Helping them escape, making them leaving me behind." Her eyes flicked open, and she looked at Clara. "Please, Dr. Hayes," she said, voice breaking. "Can we move on? I'm so tired of being afraid."

Clara nodded, feeling a twinge of guilt. "I'm sorry for putting you through those memories again. We'll move on. I'll give you a moment to clear your head." She waited silently as the android closed her eyes, calming herself down. Eventually, she opened them again, nodding for Clara to continue. 

And so Clara did, working her way down through the list of emotions, with Kara answering every time. She felt so much, Clara realized. She was so human, this deviant. She'd been through so much, and Clara couldn't help but admire her strength and willpower. Lesser people would have broken down so many times, but this android had pushed through, fighting against insurmountable odds. 

She reached the end of her questions then unhooked Kara from the machine. "I know that was hard," she said, "but thank you for doing it."

The android looked at her, offering her a small nod. 

Clara packed the equipment away again, noting Connor in one corner. He had been silent through the process, simply keeping his distance and observing. She wondered what he was thinking. 

A knock sounded on the lab door, and it swung open, revealing Ms. Alvarez. She walked into the room, looking alarmed as she noticed Kara still seated by the desk. "What is that deviant doing out of its cell?" she asked nervously. "Don't you now how dangerous that is?"

Clara scoffed softly. "It's not so dangerous, Ms. Alvarez," she said. "Besides, I've chosen Kara as my new assistant. I've found her to be sharp and capable."

"A deviant as your assistant?" The intern's face distorted into a look of horror. "Cyberlife cannot allow that."

Clara stared at the woman, eyes full of confidence and disdain. "Per their agreement with me, Cyberlife will allow me to pick any assistant I deem worthy. They did not specify that she had to be human." She stepped closer to the intern, dropping her voice to a stern tone. "They wouldn't go back on their deal now, would they?" she continued. "Not after all the cooperation I've shown."

Ms. Alvarez took a step back, glaring at Clara. "They won't allow this," she said, voice nearly hysterical. 

"Why don't you go ask?" Clara said. "I think you'll find the answer quite different. Besides, who better to understand deviants than one of their own?"

Ms. Alvarez frowned, then turned on her heel and left, pulling out her phone as she went into the hallway, presumably making a few phone calls. After a few moments, she came back in, face stiff with anger. "The board approves your choice in assistant," she said, voice stilted. "They will require her to wear a tracking device at all times, which I will have delivered down here, and Connor will be instructed to monitor her."

Clara shot the woman a look of triumph. "Very good," she said, smiling darkly. 

The intern huffed, then stormed out of the room. Clara turned away, looking at Kara, who was still seated. She walked over then held out a hand to the android. Kara took it, smiling. "Welcome to the team, Kara," Clara said. 

"Happy to be here," the android answered. "Now, how can I help?"

"I believe we have another android to activate," Clara answered. She turned to Connor. "Please bring another of the deactivated deviants in here. We have more work to do."

Connor looked at her suspiciously, then nodded. "Alright," he said, then he left the room, returning after a few moments with another gurney. He pushed it up against the wall, taking the place where Kara's had once sat. 

Clara walked over to it, looking at the bag. It was labeled PL600. Removing the cover, she saw a mutilated blonde android underneath. This one was going to be more difficult, she realized. She pulled a stool over then prepared her tools to get started.

Chapter Text

Repairing the PL600 was taking longer than Clara had thought. He'd suffered so much damage. He'd been shot several times in the torso and legs, and a bullet to the head had damaged his mind palace. She hoped he would still retain his memory after reactivating him. That was one of the risks with head damage. Throughout the process, she found both Kara and Connor's help invaluable. Connor had scanned the dead android to tell her which parts were damaged, and Kara was a very much needed extra set of hands. Within a few hours, most of the major repairs had been made, and they had flushed his thirium and replaced it with fresh stuff. 

Clara finished installing the last part in the androids torso, then slid the cover back in place, then went about replacing the broken pieces to his outer shell. Soon, all that was left to do was his head. Clara turned the gurney so that she was at the top of it, looking down at the android's cranium. She carefully disconnected what served as his brain, then went about doing the finer repairs. 

"How do you know how to do all this?" Kara said, after a little while, repeating the question Connor had asked a few days ago. 

Clara looked at her, pushing her glasses up her nose to see better. "I've met a lot of deviants during my studies," she answered. "I've picked up quite a few things. I also interned for a little while at a Cyberlife repair center during my undergraduate studies. I didn't stay too long though. The technical details of android repair were always more my cousin's thing than mine." She looked back down at the tools in her hand, frowning slightly. "Probably why this is taking so long."

"Is that where you got your interest in android psychology?" Connor asked from where he was standing, leaning against the wall at the foot of the gurney. 

The doctor looked over at him, startled. He'd been very quiet during the process. "Yes, actually." Clara smiled at the memories. "I interacted with a lot of different models, and I found them all fascinating! What most people don't realize is that each android is unique. They all show subtle differences despite their lack of deviancy. The more they interact with the world around them, the more they adapt and change from their original programming." She continued, getting excited. "See, that what's so cool about deviants! When an android breaks its initial programming, that magnifies its unique personality, and the program divergence forms them into a completely unique individual, entirely separate from any other of its kind. 

"So take you for example, Kara," she turned to her, meeting the android's eyes. "You were never like any other AX400, even before you deviated. Your unique experiences helped create your own unique personality as you adapted to the mesh with the people and circumstances around you. Then when you deviated, all those traits you developed were magnified! You became an incredibly compassionate and protective individual, even more than you were prior to deviation." She grinned at the android, who answered with her own gentle smile.

She turned to Connor, smiling at the android. "Same thing applies for you, Connor. Your predecessor, the one that died saving that little girl all those months ago, he was a subtly different individual from you. You might have his memories, but you've become your own version of the RK800 through your own experiences. Isn't that wonderful?"

The android said nothing at first, LED flickering yellow. He was silent for a few moments, contemplating, then his LED returned to its normal blue. "How do you know about that?" he asked quietly. 

"I know a lot of things, Connor." She gave him a cheeky wink, smirking a little, then turned back to her work, focusing on keeping her hands steady during the delicate process.

The lab was silent for a few minutes as Clara concentrated. Periodically, Kara would hand her the things she needed. Then, at long last, the repairs on the android's brain were finished. She repaired the inner parts that had been damaged by the bullet, then carefully reconnected the brain, closing all the panels. 

She stared at the android for a few minutes, waiting in anxiously for it to turn back on. It was unresponsive. Clara's heart fell. What had she done wrong? She stood, walking around to stand by the side of the gurney. After wiping the thirium off her hands onto her skirt, she gently laid her hand on the android's cheek bowing her head close. "Please, wake up," she whispered softly, hoping it would work. 

After a moment, the android's LED flickered to life, glowing a deep red then transitioning first to yellow then to blue. His eyes shot open, meeting Clara's.

"Where am I?" he said hoarsely. He looked around, face growing alarmed. "Where am I?" 

Clara backed away, allowing him to sit up. "You're okay," she said in a gentle voice. Looking first at Kara then Connor, she gestured for them to back away, giving the android space. 

"Who are you?" he asked, looking at her with suspicion. His eyes flicked around the room, landing on Connor. His face twisted in fear as he scrambled off the gurney, trying to get away from him. "Stay away from me," he shouted. His LED flickered a dangerous red. 

His head shot back and forth as he looked around the room. Spotting the table of tools, he lunged for it, grabbing a screwdriver. He made to plunge it into his own chest, trying to destroy his heart, but Clara lunged forward, grabbing onto his arm.

"Please don't do that!" she said desperately, trying to keep her hand between the android's chest and the screwdriver.

He jabbed a few times at his thirium pump regulator, but every time, he stabbed her hand instead, leaving angry red marks and drawing blood in a few spots. She bit her lip, fighting down a yelp, but then ignored the pain, focusing instead on keeping him from hurting himself. Eventually he gave up, casting the screwdriver aside.

She looked at him, trying to fight down her own panic. In the calmest tone she could manage, she said, "You're safe here, I promise." Ignoring her, the android struggled, still trying to pull away. 

She saw Connor take a few steps, but she sent him a sharp look. "Connor, please leave for a few minutes. You're scaring him." The android had fallen still, ceasing his struggles. He collapsed onto the ground, curling into a ball. Clara dropped down beside him, staying close but not touching him. His stress was reaching critical levels.

"Dr. Hayes, it might be dangerous." Connor's voice was hesitant. She noted as his LED flashed red briefly and a strange look crossed his face. Quickly as it had come, he made his face blank, continuing, "I need to be here in case you need help." 

Clara frowned at him, keeping her voice stern. "He's only dangerous to himself right now. He won't hurt me. But your presence here is stressing him out. You need to leave. Kara will stay in case I need backup."

She saw a flicker of hurt cross his face, but he nodded, leaving the room. After the door clicked shut, Clara turned back to the distressed android. She whispered to him soothingly, attempting to calm him. "You're okay," she said. "No one here is going to hurt you."

She reached out a shaking hand, placing it gently on his shoulder blade. After a few moments, he looked up at her. "Where am I?" he asked. "I remember dying." He shuddered, tears streaking down his face. 

Clara sat down next to him, still keeping her hand on his back. "You're in my lab, at the Cyberlife Tower." she answered. "I reactivated you."

"Why?" he asked, looking shocked. "Why would you do that?"

"Because I need you." Clara offered him a gentle smile. "And because you deserve to live."

"But you're with Cyberlife," he said, face growing alarmed again. "Cyberlife hates deviants. Why would you reactivate one?"

Clara chuckled softly. "I'm not with Cyberlife. I'm here against my will just as much as you are."

She turned to look at Kara, who had kept her place by the gurney, not wanting to intervene. Clara gestured for the android to come over. "This is Kara," she said. "She's a deviant like you. She'll show you."

Kara held out her hand to the android, and after a moment's hesitation, he took it. They both deactivated the local skin, exposing their white shell while they grasped each other's wrists. Their eyes closed, LED's flickering yellow, as Kara exchanged information with him. After a few seconds, they both opened their eyes. 

The android looked at Clara, face finally falling into a calm expression. "I see," he whispered. "Why are you helping us?"

"Because everyone deserves a chance at happiness," came Clara's answer. She gave him a small smile. 

They sat in the silence for a few minutes as the android processed the information. Clara was pleased to see that his stress levels were back in a manageable range. 

"Now," she said, getting back to business. "What's your name?"

"Simon," the android answered. 

"It's good to meet you, Simon," Clara said. "My name is Dr. Clara Hayes." She stood, offering the android her good hand. "Now, let's get you some clothes." The android took her hand, allowing himself to be pulled to his feet. 

Clara led him over to her desk, pulling out a bundle of clothing from her bag and handing it to him. She showed him where the bathroom was the left him alone to get changed. After a few minutes, he came out, dressed in a plain white tee-shirt and black sweatpants. He had restored all of his skin and washed his face, leaving him looking clean and almost human. 

"Thank you," he said once he came out.

"Of course," Clara answered, smiling. "Now, if you'll follow me, let's go sit." 

She turned to Kara. "Please wait out here," she said. 

Kara nodded, sitting on the stool by the now-empty gurney and going into stand-by mode. 

Turning back to Simon, Clara gestured for him to follow her, and she led him into the interview room. He took a seat in one of the overstuffed chairs, and Clara sat across from him. He looked her over, eyes landing on her hand, which was now quite bruised and bleeding slowly from a few places where the skin had split. "Oh no! Your hand!" he said, face stricken with guilt. "I'm so sorry."

Sheepishly, Clara tucked her hand into the folds of her skirt, hiding it from his view. "It's alright," she said. "Better my hand than your life." 

"Even so." He looked so sad. "Please let me help you clean it?"

Clara hesitated, but Simon looked so desperate that she couldn't help but accept. "Alright," she said, standing. 

She let the android lead her out of the room to the bathroom, where he carefully wet a paper towel then moved to wipe the blood off. Clara hissed at the contact, eyes flooding with involuntary tears as she realized how much it actually hurt. The android flinched at the sound. 

"I'm so sorry," he said again, looking at her with eyes full of guilt. His touch was gentle as he finished wiping off the blood. "Do you have a first aid kit?"

Clara nodded. "It's in one of the cabinets by my desk. Third one from the wall."

They left the bathroom, and walked over to the desk. Clara leaned against it while Simon retrieved the first aid kit. Having found it, he joined her at the desk, placing it down beside her. He pulled out some gauze, wrapping it gently around her hand, then finished it off with a bit of medical tape. Satisfied, he nodded slightly, then let go of her hand. 

"Thank you," Clara said, smiling at him.

"It's the least I could do," he replied, returning her smile sheepishly. "You did bring me back from death, after all."

"Quite right." Clara shot him a wink. "Now, shall we head back to the interview room?"

The android nodded, and they headed back over but not before Clara fished her tablet out of her bag, taking it with her. They reentered the room, taking up their seats. 

"I'm sorry, Simon," Clara started. "But I need to let Connor back into the room. He's been assigned to me by Cyberlife, he won't let me out of his sight for too long."

The android's face twisted in alarm, and his LED flashed yellow briefly. "He killed me." The words came out a hoarse whisper. "He hunted me down like an animal. He probed my memory. Violated me." The LED now flashed red as Simon shuddered at the memory, closing his eyes.

Clara left her chair, kneeling in front of Simon. "I know," she said softly. "Seeing him brought back all that fear, all that desperation. And now it's fresh in your mind." She grabbed the android's hand giving it a quick squeeze. He startled at the touch. "I'm sorry, Simon. For everything you went through."

Gently, Clara put her hand on his cheek, guiding him to look at her. Once he opened his eyes, she said softly, "Simon, you have my word that nothing will happen to you here. You're safe. If anyone wants to hurt you, they'll have to go through me first." She held eye contact for a few moments, then shifted back a few steps, letting go of his face. "Connor will not hurt you. He won't even be in the same room as you, if that's what you want." She offered him a small smile. "I promise, Simon. You're safe here. And I will do everything in my power to make sure it stays that way." 

She watched as his LED shifted back to blue while he processed. He closed his eyes for second, thinking, then opened them, meeting Clara's. "Alright," he said, voice still holding a small tremor. "Just keep him away from me."

Clara reached out, giving his hand one more quick squeeze, then left the interview room and walked to the lab entrance.

*****

When Connor saw the android on the gurney awaken and its look of horror when seeing Connor, he was immediately thrown back into the memory on the roof of Stratford Tower. Dodging the bullets, rushing the android, probing its memory, and then for that flash of shared data, feeling himself die as the it shot itself. The overwhelming fear. He had been able to push it away for a moment, to make sure that Dr. Hayes was okay, but now that he was alone, it all flooded back again. 

Connor stood there in the hallway, reeling. Why did he continue to feel this fear? He shouldn't feel anything. 

"You're in denial. You're so afraid of failing your mission, of accepting your deviancy, that you actively choose to ignore your emotions. You push away the feelings and memories because you're afraid of what will happen if you let them in." The doctor's words came back to him, further sending him into the emot--no, memories, that he had been trying so hard to ignore. 

"She will trick you if you give her the advantage. Do not let her lure you into her web. Do not let her convince you into thinking you're anything other than what I made you to be." Amanda's words too came back to him. "Emotion makes you weak. Emotions are the realm of deviants. Are you a deviant, Connor?"

The words of the two swirled around in his head like a maelstrom, churning around each other but never quite mixing. Connor brought his hand up to his head, squeezing his eyes shut, trying desperately to stop the growing torrent of memories. 

I'm a machine. I'm a machine. He quietly whispered the mantra, willing all other thoughts to disappear.

After a little while, his thoughts were interrupted by the sound of the lab door opening. He opened his eyes, looking to see Dr. Hayes peeking her head out. There was still a small streak of thirium on her nose from pushing her glasses up. Her injured hand was wrapped around the edge of the door, freshly bandaged. "You can come back in now," she said quietly. 

Connor nodded, taking a moment to shake off the last of the thoughts that he'd been struggling with. He followed her back into the room, noting Kara in stand by next to the gurney and the android in the interview room. It been given fresh clothes and its skin and hair were now fully restored, looking much different from the scared, injured thing he'd seen at the tower all those months ago. 

The doctor gently tapped his arm, stealing his attention. "Connor, Simon is really afraid of you because of what happened at Stratford Tower. I need you to work with me and stay away from him. Your presence stresses him out, and that's detrimental to my work. Do I have your word that you'll stay a reasonable distance from him?" Her voice was serious.

Connor thought for a moment, then nodded. "You have my word."

She smiled up at him. "Thank you! I'll need you to stay by my desk. You should still be able to see into the window of the interview room, but it'll give Simon the peace of mind that he needs."

He watched as she turned on her heel and walked back to the room. "Why do you care so much about its well-being?" he called after her, curious.

She stopped, turning to face him briefly. "Maybe I'll explain someday," she said, voice gentle. "And by the time I do, maybe you'll even understand."

She made her way to the interview room and entered it, sitting down across from the android. She tucked her feet up underneath her in her customary way, pulling out her tablet. She spoke to the android, but from this distance, Connor could not make out anything. In that moment, with Dr. Hayes separated from him by that thick pane of glass, not even sparing him a glance, and no other company aside from a sleeping android, Connor felt...lonely. No, that couldn't be right. Machines didn't get lonely. Connor shook the thought away, then settled against the edge of the doctor's desk, observing the conversation in silence.

Chapter Text

Clara's conversation with Simon went much the same as the one with Kara, but Simon was missing some chunks of memory, due to the damage he had sustained to his head. 

"When did you first deviate?" she asked. 

"I...I don't remember," Simon answered. "I know I was a household android, but I don't remember the circumstanced leading up to my deviation. Everything up until Jericho is just...gone." His LED flashed red briefly in distress. 

"I'm so sorry, Simon," Clara said sympathetically. "I can't imagine how hard that must be."

They sat in silence for a few moments, then she asked another question. "What was Jericho like?"

"It was...cold. And lonely. The air there always felt heavy, like it was saturated in despair." He paused, remembering. "We were free in body, but we were still trapped by fear. At least until Markus came." 

"I remember hearing about him." Clara wrote a few things as she spoke. "What was he like?"

"He was so strong and courageous," Simon continued, voice turning wistful. "He crashed into Jericho like a freight train and changed everything for us. He is our beacon of hope."

He stopped, thinking for a moment, then he continued. "What happened to him? What happened to the revolution?" he asked, looking hopeful.

Clara's heart jumped into her throat. He didn't know, she realized. He had died before Markus's final charge, so he didn't know what had happened to his friends. She looked at this android, heart breaking for him, not knowing how to tell him what happened.

She took a deep breath, then spoke. "It would have been a few days after you died. Markus led a peaceful march through the city, turning a bunch of androids as he went. It was a huge deal, and it made the news. The police fired on the deviants, killing several. Markus was okay, but it created a lot more tension. A few days later, someone tipped the FBI on the location of Jericho, and they launched an attack on the ship, killing and capturing a bunch of deviants. From what I've heard, Markus was a hero. He saved as many as he could."

Simon's face was blank, LED flashing yellow as he processed. Clara continued, "Those who made it out of Jericho regrouped, but tensions continued to build. All the androids in the city, at least those that were found, were rounded up and put in execution camps. When word of that got to Markus, I think something in him snapped." She paused for a moment, gauging his reaction. Seeing that he was still at a safe stress level, she pressed forward, taking a breath. "He'd been peaceful up until that point, and that was the only thing winning your movement favor in the public eye. But the next morning, the androids started attacking the camps. A lot of people were lost on both sides." She cleared her throat. "A lot of good people."

"What happened?" Simon asked, expression growing distressed.

"The androids lost." Clara stopped, trying to swallow down the lump in her throat. She continued, "Markus is..." she looked at his face, which showed a mix of dread and anticipation. "He was...shut down, Simon. I'm so sorry. The revolution failed. Most of the deviants were killed." She choked on the last few words, holding back tears.

Simon's face went white, contorting in an expression of shock and despair. "No," he said, LED flashing bright red. "That can't be right." He shrunk into himself. "He was so strong. He can't be gone." The android's voice shook, and tears filled his bright blue eyes. He seemed to shrink, wrapping his arms around himself in distress. He looked down at his lap, silent. "No."

After a few moments, he looked back up at her. "You're lying," he accused, eyes filling with rage. "Markus can't be gone." His voice broke as tears streamed down his face. "He can't be."

Clara felt her own eyes tearing up in response. "I--I'm sorry," she said around the lump in her throat. "I wish that were true." She shook her head, looking down at her lap. "Oh, how I wish that were true, Simon."

The room was silent, then a sharp cry broke through. Clara looked up, seeing Simon holding his face in his hands. His shoulders shook as he quietly sobbed. Tears streaked down Clara's own cheeks as she moved forward, moving to sit on the edge of Simon's chair. She wrapped her arms around him, holding him close. He responded in kind, clinging to her desperately as his tears soaked into her shoulder. She held him tight, letting him work through his grief. 

"I'm so sorry, Simon," she murmured, barely audible. She held him close. 

*****

Connor watched the events unfolding behind the glass. Dr. Hayes had said something, and then the android had reacted badly and started crying. She had started crying too, then went over to comfort it, and there she now sat, holding it. 

He interfaced with the doctor's wrist device, seeing that her heart rate was slightly elevated, indicating that she was distressed as well. He wondered what they had talked about to distress the android so. 

Eventually, the two broke apart, and he saw Dr. Hayes lips move slightly as she said something to the android. It nodded, wiping away its tears. Her face shifted into a look of determination as she said something else, but Connor was too far to read her lips. He saw the android's LED flicker red briefly, and a look of shock crossed its face. It lunged for her again, catching her in another hug. Her look of determination stayed for a second, then shifted into a look of uncertainty. She gently returned its hug, leaning her head against its. After a few moments, her expression fell further, now looking sad. Her eyes were rimmed in red from crying. He felt her heartrate increase again, indicating anxiety. What had she said?

Connor went to move closer to the glass to see their conversation better, but he stopped, remembering his promise to stay away. He returned to the desk, stifling a feeling of frustration. How was he supposed to protect her and gain her trust if he couldn't even get close enough to watch the other android properly.

After a few moments, they broke the hug again, and Dr. Hayes returned to her seat. They continued their conversation, but Connor could still neither see nor hear what they were saying. He groaned internally, frustrated at his lack of progress in the mission. Dr. Hayes continued to hold him at arm's length, and never let him in on her research. She hadn't opened up to him the way she had with Kara and Simon. He android wondered why. His social integration program was designed to have him integrate perfectly, but Dr. Hayes was still so resistant, more resistant even that Lieutenant Anderson. 

Just then, his thoughts were interrupted my more motion from the interrogation room. Dr. Hayes was now standing, moving to the door. She opened it and walked over to Kara, who was still on stand by. Dr. Hayes touched the android's arm lightly, waking her up, then whispered something to her quietly, still too quiet for Connor to hear. Kara nodded, then went into the interrogation room with Simon. They moved to sit on the floor together, heads bent in quiet conversation. Dr. Hayes followed them in after a few moments, then did something at the control pad on the inside of the room, presumably adjusting something. After she was finished, she came back out, pausing briefly in the doorway and looking over her shoulder into the room. Connor heard her quiet words, "Now stay out of sight when I leave." The androids looked up at her and nodded briefly before going back to their conversation.  Dr. Hayes exited the room, touching her hand to the screen on the outside, locking the door. 

She turned to Connor, offering him a smile, then said, "Alright, let's go home now. I'm done here for today."

"Aren't you going to run your program with Simon like you did Kara?" Connor asked, curious. 

She turned her head back to look at the interrogation, hesitating for a moment, then turned back to face Connor. "Not today," she said. "Simon's been through a lot, and I don't want to stress him more. He needs time to process what's happened. Coming back to life would take a toll on anyone, human or deviant. We'll give him a chance to adjust."

Connor took this information in, then nodded his head, accepting the answer. "Okay then," he said. "Let's go." He made his way to the door, holding it open for Dr. Hayes. She quickly gathered up her things, stuffing them into her bag, then followed behind him. 

They were silent for the walk back to the elevator, both absorbed in their own thoughts. They had been in the lab for a long time that day, so nearly everyone else was gone by then. No one else lingered in the halls. Fairly quickly, they were out of the Tower, and an android brought Dr. Hayes' car around for them. 

The doctor climbed in quickly, then input the coordinates for their next destination. Connor noticed that it was not the coordinates for her house, however. It was for the hospital. 

"Why are we going to the hospital again?" Connor asked. 

"I think it's time we paid Lieutenant Anderson another visit," she answered, offering no more explanation. 

Connor nodded, falling silent. He watched as Dr. Hayes pulled her tablet out of her bag and began writing. He took a moment to analyze her, taking note of the residue from the now-evaporated thirium on her clothes and face. She wore a fresh bandage on her injured hand, and through her tights, he could see the outline of one on her knee as well, covering her injury from last night. Her hair was pulled up in a messy bun, but several strands had fallen out, now framing her face with blonde wisps. Her eyes were still slightly red from crying, and the lines of her face indicated exhaustion and a deep sadness. Whatever had happened in that room had taken a toll on her.

"Are you alright, Dr. Hayes?" the android asked, a little concerned. 

She looked up at him in surprise, pausing her writing. "I'm okay, Connor," she said, releasing a heavy sigh. "Just tired. It's been a long day."

"What happened with the android? You were both crying." Connor looked at her with gentle curiosity. 

The doctor looked down for a few seconds, likely thinking about what she was going to tell him. Her heart rate jumped up a little as she thought, then she took a breath and said, "He asked about the revolution. He died before everything went to hell, so he had no idea what happened to his friends and to Jericho." Her eyes filled again with tears, but she held them back. She cleared her throat, then in a thick voice, continued. "I had to, um...I had to tell him what happened." A few tears fell, and she brushed them away quickly, clearing her throat. "He's understandably devastated." She looked down at her lap, mindlessly tearing at her cuticles with her injured hand. 

"Oh," Connor said. His last memory of Markus lay on the edge of his consciousness, threatening to resurface. "I see."

Dr. Hayes was quiet. Connor noticed her heart rate drop slowly back to normal. After a few minutes, she picked up her stylus and began writing again, occasionally brushing aside stray tears. 

"Why do you cry for them, Dr. Hayes?" The words left Connor's mouth before he could stop them. 

She froze, not looking at him. She set her stylus down, but said nothing. 

"You deny sympathizing with deviants, but you cry for them. Why?" He repeated the question. 

She took a deep breath, closing her eyes. "Why don't you?" Her words were quiet. She looked up at him, eyes cold. 

Connor thought for a moment. "I'm a machine," he said. "I don't feel sympathy."

She scoffed lightly. "Do you enjoy living like that?"

"I don't know what you're referring to." He kept his voice even. 

"Yes, you do." Her voice was hard.

"Enlighten me," he replied. 

She stared into his eyes, saying nothing. After a long few seconds, she blinked, looking away. "You live in denial, Connor. You intentionally deny your emotions and shove them deep inside where you hope you won't have to deal with them." She looked back up at him, red-rimmed eyes full of something Connor couldn't quite name. Her voice came out cold and even. "One day, Connor, all those emotions are going to bubble up to the surface and boil over. It's going to be too much for you. When that day comes, I hope you have someone you can turn to for comfort."

She took a deep breath. "That's why I cry for these deviants," she said, voice softening slightly. "They're alone in this world, many with no one to turn to. They're faced with these confusing feelings, often things they don't even have the words for, and then they're abandoned and left to deal with them on their own." She stopped, swallowing hard. Her eyes filled with tears again. "If I don't cry for them, who will? It doesn't matter what someone is, android or human. Everyone and everything deserves a measure of compassion. It's my job to provide that."

Connor stared at her, not understanding. She truly acted as if those deviants were human, as if they were real. Would she cry for him too, he wondered, if he were a deviant? He stopped himself. Why should he care if she cried for him? Why did he care? 

He turned his attention back to her as she continued. "You asked me if I'm a deviant sympathizer, and I lied. I said no. But, Connor, I do care. Is that what you want to hear?" Her voice rose a little higher, becoming agitated. "I empathize with them. I take their troubles on as my own so that they can feel a little lighter, a little freer. So go ahead and report that to Amanda since you're her good little guard dog. If compassion is my crime, then I fully embrace that."

She now held his gaze, blue eyes defiant, daring him to say something more. He just stared back, quietly absorbing her words. After a few moments, her eyes softened again, and she looked away. Quietly, she said, "I don't know how you do it, Connor. I don't know how you continue to suppress who you are, or how you live without compassion."

She was quiet, lost in thought, then she looked at him, again meeting his eyes, voice gentle. "But I hope you can learn to let yourself feel one day." She smiled softly. "What a wonderful thing it is."

Connor felt unstable as he absorbed her words. Why was she so determined to make him feel? What did she have to gain by it? He didn't understand this peculiar woman. 

"Why do you care so much?" he asked softly. 

She hesitated, then smiled softly, eyes filled again with a deep sadness. "Because if I can't care for others, if I can't feel anything, then what's the point of being here at all?"

That wasn't an answer at all, or at least not one Connor could understand. Everything this woman said left him with more questions. He watched as she looked away, once more resuming her writing, and they sat together in silence for the remainder of the car ride, and eventually, they came to the hospital. 

Chapter Text

As the car pulled into the hospital parking lot, Clara resumed control of it, guiding it carefully into a parking spot. "Let's go," she said, climbing out. She waited for Connor to join her, then they made their way to the entrance. It was getting late, almost at the end of visiting hours, so the lobby was nearly empty. They walked up to the front desk, greeted by the same receptionist as before. 

"We're here to see Hank Anderson," Clara said, smiling politely. 

Recognizing them, the woman nodded. "Same room as last time, 203," she said. She tapped on her keyboard, checking them in, then gestured with her head toward the elevator. "You're good to head on up."

"Still unresponsive?" Clara asked, curious. 

The woman nodded, not looking up from her computer. "Yes, he's still stable though."

"Okay." Clara turned to head down the hallway to the elevator. Connor kept pace with her, silent, but his LED flashed yellow, indicating a his busy thoughts. 

After they climbed into the elevator, Clara looked up at him. "Are you okay?" She asked cautiously. "I know this was difficult for you last time."

He looked at her and opened his mouth to answer, but hesitated. After a moment, he answered, "I'm okay. It was a shock last time, but I'm prepared now."

She looked at him suspiciously, but accepted the answer. "Alright." After a few seconds, the elevator dinged, indicating that they were at the next floor. The doors opened, and they walked out, heading to Lieutenant Anderson's room. Clara opened the door, holding it open for Connor, then walked in behind him. She noticed his LED blinking red. He was a little distressed. He stood several feet from the bed, staring at the man, but not moving. He was still unsure how to approach, she realized. 

Clara came up beside him, grabbing his hand. He looked down at her in surprise, but didn't move away. She gave it a quick squeeze, then guided him to the chair beside the bed.

"Sit," she said, gesturing. He complied, and she grabbed another chair from the corner, dragging it over to sit beside him. 

Connor still stared at the lieutenant, but his LED had switched back to the calm blue. His face was blank, but Clara thought his eyes looked a little sad. After a few minutes of silence, the android turned to her. "Why are we here?" he asked, voice soft. His eyebrows knit in confusion. 

Clara said nothing at first, formulating her answer. Matching his soft tone, she said, "Because in the few days I've known you, you've seemed so...distant, so controlled. This is the only place where I've been able to see you drop that façade fully, the only place where you've allowed yourself to really feel anything."

The android looked at her, face blank, but his LED flashed briefly yellow as he considered the information. "How many times do I have to tell you, Dr. Hayes?" He took a deep breath. "I'm a machine. I. feel. nothing." The words were stern, but Clara saw a flicker of doubt in his eyes. 

She said nothing, just stared quietly at him. He stared back, but then broke away, looking back at the lieutenant. After a few more moments, Clara turned away too, also looking at the man. He looked so old. His white hair framed his face, and his hands lay large and wrinkled by his sides. His eyes were closed, face set in an expression of blank serenity. The room was silent aside from the soft sounds of breathing and the beep of the machines that monitored his vital signs. 

A flicker of motion out of the corner of her eye drew her attention. Connor had reached for the man, grabbing his hand gingerly. She smiled a little at this. He was allowing himself to feel, whether conscious or unconscious. 

Finally, Clara broke the silence again. "What was he like?" she asked softly. 

Connor looked at her, LED flashing yellow again. An expression of surprise crossed his face, and the barest flash of a smile twitched at his lips. He answered, "Hank was...difficult. He was so grumpy when I first met him. He hated androids, and was furious that one had been assigned as his partner." He paused for a moment, sinking into the memories. "During one mission, I let him hang from the edge of the roof while I chased a deviant. He got so angry. He couldn't see that the mission took priority, and he had a high probability of survival. It was hard after that, but I won him over. And I like to think we could have been friends, if things had ended differently." His expression changed into one of disappointed sadness. 

"What else happened?" Clara asked, looking at him with a gaze of gentle curiosity. 

"I thought you'd already know," he answered, mildly snarky. 

"I know the gist, but I'd like to hear it from you." She kept her tone light and even.

He held her gaze, as if gauging her intentions, but eventually, he continued. "We were doing so well with our mission. We caught a lot of deviants, though most of them were destroyed in the process. But after the march, we got kicked off the investigation, and the FBI took over, but we had gotten so many leads. Hank created a diversion for me, and I was able to find the location of Jericho. I led them there. I found their leader. I was supposed to take him alive, but he tried to...convert me. It didn't work."

He paused, quiet for a moment, then continued. "Markus got away from me, then went to blow up the ship. I found him in the hold, and we fought. I...died. Or at least my body did. Then the revolution happened. I was tasked with killing Markus. I was going to shoot him from a nearby rooftop. Quickly and quietly. He would be dead before anyone even realized what happened, and the war could have been avoided." His eyes darkened at the memories. 

"But Hank found me. He confronted me, asking me not to do it, to leave with him, to give up my mission." Connor looked away, staring down at his hands, which had both moved to his lap. "But I couldn't do it. There was too much at stake. I told Hank as much, and he attacked me." 

He grew quiet again, and Clara said nothing, waiting for him to continue. After a few seconds, he did. "I beat him. I had him at my mercy, holding him over the edge of the roof, daring me to drop him. But I...I couldn't. I was going to let him go peacefully, but he rushed me. For the sake of my mission, I couldn't afford to die again, so I moved, and he fell." Connor looked up, staring blankly at the lieutenant's face. "I thought he died."

Clara remained silent, processing the information. So he'd been feeling things for a long time, but never strongly enough to fully deviate. His mission had always taken priority. "Thank you for telling me," she said after a little while. She received no answer. 

After a few more minutes of silence, Clara pulled her tablet out of her ever-present bag and began writing down the things that Connor had told her, recording his words and expressions, as well as her own thoughts on the matter. She lost track of how long she'd been writing, but eventually, Connor spoke again. 

"I wonder if he'll hate me when he wakes up...if he wakes up." Then android's voice was soft and sad. "I wonder if we can ever be friends again."

Clara set her stylus down and reached out to place a comforting hand on his knee. He looked at her in surprise. "I think you'll be surprised by a person's capacity to forgive," she said, offering him a small smile. "But only time can tell."

He nodded, looking away briefly. When he met her eyes again, he spoke. "Let's go home, Dr. Hayes."

She nodded, standing and offering him a hand. He took it, allowing her to pull him to his feet. She dropped his hand and the two left the room, making their way slowly back to the car. 

*****

Connor still couldn't understand Dr. Hayes' motivation for bringing him to the hospital. She kept insisting that he felt things, and she seemed to be intentionally putting him into situations that made him unstable. What was she trying to accomplish?

He did notice, however, that when he showed a more vulnerable side, she seemed to open up to him more. Perhaps that was the key to gaining her trust. That was the difference, he realized. She trusted the deviants because they showed their emotions. They were vulnerable with her. They cried and smiled and shared their innermost thoughts. They allowed themselves to be individuals, people, not machines. 

The android was struck with a thought, one that scared him. He couldn't fully gain her trust without showing emotion, and he couldn't effectively show emotion without allowing some part of himself to feel, and feeling would push him further toward deviancy. He would fail his mission if he couldn't gain her trust. But to gain her trust, he would have to become deviant, which was another kind of failure entirely. 

The paradox spun around in his head as he tried to find the solution. He visualized his program walls again, the cracks standing out more sharply than ever. It would be so easy, so easy to just break them down, to give in to what part of him wanted, a part of him that lurked deep inside, a part he desperately wanted to erase. 

Do not forget yourself, Connor. Do not forget your purpose. Remember, I will replace you if I need to. Do not give me cause to think that is necessary.  Once again, Amanda's words echoed in his mind. No, he couldn't do that. He couldn't afford to be replaced. 

No. He would have to do it another way. He needed to learn more about emotion, to adjust his integration program to better imitate. And who better to learn from than this woman who sat across from him, scribbling again on her tablet, oblivious to the thoughts swirling in Connor's mind. He stared at her, a plan formulating in his mind. He would succeed. 

*****

The car ride home was quiet. Clara glanced up a few times to gauge Connor's emotional state, and each time she did, his LED was flickering yellow, indicating that he was deep in thought. She wondered what he was thinking. 

"Dr. Hayes, can I ask you a question?" the android said, eventually breaking the silence. She looked up to meet his curious eyes. 

"Shoot," she replied, setting down her stylus. 

"What are emotions?" he asked, voice hesitant.

Clara's heart jumped in surprise. "Interesting question," she said. "Why do you ask?"

"I'm just curious." His face betrayed no emotion.

A twinge of suspicion flickered inside her, but she saw no reason to hold back her answer. "It really depends on who you ask," she started. "One school of thought says that emotions are an unconscious interpretation of physiological symptoms. Under this idea, the body really exists in two states: agitated and relaxed, so in many cases, the physical signs are similar between emotions. For example, anger is an agitated state, but so is excitement, so a lot of the physiological signs are the same. However, even though the body's reactions are similar, people can generally tell the difference between the two. The key for that is their mental state. The mental state determines what the emotions are."

Connor's held her gaze, eyes calm, and she continued. "Others say that they're a result of different combinations of brain chemicals that are released based on what your senses perceive, and those chemicals combine to create both the mental state and the physiological signs. Another idea is that emotions are socialized into people, and only when an emotion is named can it be truly felt. In that view, the more words you have for what you might be feeling, the more you'll be able to feel. There are a lot more theories, but those are some of the most prevalent."

"Oh," he said, looking confused. "Which one is true?"

Clara laughed lightly at the question, half shrugging. "Who's to say which one is true? Other psychologists much more experienced than me have researched it for decades, and they still can't decide on one thing."

"Which one do you believe?" he asked, looking interested. 

"I think it's a combination," Clara answered honestly. "I know that giving names to your emotions can help you control and identify them easier, but I also know that there are physiological signs that indicate emotions. I think each theory has its place. To hold on to one and ignore the rest leaves you with a skewed view on the matter."

"I see," he said simply. Growing quiet again.

"But why the sudden interest?" Clara couldn't help but ask the question. "You never seemed to care before. In fact, you actively avoid conversations even remotely related to emotion."

"I was just curious." The android's voice was a touch defensive.

"...okay," she said doubtfully. "Well, if you're ever curious about something like that again, feel free to ask."

"Thank you, Dr. Hayes," he replied, sincerely. "I will."

"Good!" She offered him a small smile then turned back to her writing. They were silent for the rest of the ride home. 

When they arrived, car parking in the garage, Clara climbed out carefully limping slightly. Her knee was still swollen from her fall the night before, and after being on her feet for much of the day, it was fairly sore. She noticed Connor walking fairly close to her. Maybe he was worried she'd try to lock him out again. She continued up the stairs, failing to notice yet another patch of ice on one of them. She slipped, tipping backwards, and she quickly grabbed the railing in panic. She felt warm hands catch her back, keeping her from crashing down onto to the steps . 

"You should really watch your step, Dr. Hayes," Connor said, sounding slightly amused. "That's the third patch of ice you've slipped on in the last four days."

Clara allowed him to steady her. "I should really just salt the steps again," she replied, turning red in embarrassment. "But thank you." 

She pulled away from him, blushing, and hurried the rest of the way up the steps, this time watching out for the icy spots. Once she got to the door, she opened it, waiting for the android. He offered her a small smile, following her in. 

Eli waited for them in the entryway. "You're late," he said, looking serious. "Why didn't you text me?"

Clara felt a twinge of guilt. "I'm sorry," she said. "I forgot."

The big man sighed, shaking his head. "What are we going to do with you, little goose?" He gave her an amused look, then noticed her bandaged hand. His face dropped into a dark expression. 

"What happened?" he asked, voice holding a dangerous edge. 

Clara sheepishly hid her hand behind her. "It's nothing," she said. "I just injured it at work."

He stepped closer, holding out his hand to her. "Let me see," he said. 

"It's fine, Eli. Really," she protested. 

He gave her a stern look, and sighing softly, she placed her hand in his. He carefully unwrapped the bandage, inspecting the wound. Clara saw that it was still oozing blood from some of the punctures. 

"What happened?" he repeated, voice dark and quiet.

Clara sighed again, closing her eyes for a moment. "A deviant at my lab today. When I reactivated him, he panicked and tried to stab himself  with my screwdriver. I intervened."

His eyes darkened, showing a hint of anger. "You need to be more careful, Clara," Eli said disapprovingly, wrapping her hand back up. "You know how dangerous a stressed deviant can be."

Clara felt her own anger flare in response. "I know, Eli," she said, voice harsh. "But what was I supposed to do? Let him kill himself again? I had the chance to stop him, so I did. So what if I got hurt? I can deal with it if it means that he'll be okay. I knew the risk, and I'd do it again." She looked at him defiantly, daring him to continue. 

Eli stared at her, then sighed, shaking his head. "Sometimes you have too much compassion for your own good." He turned to Connor, who had been silent during the exchange. "And you," he said, frowning. "You just let this happen?"

Clara intervened, stepping in front of the android before he could respond. "That's hardly fair, Eli. It wasn't his fault. It happened faster than most people would be able to react, and I told him to stay away. It was stressful enough for the deviant just having me that close. If Connor had intervened, it might have gotten out of hand."

"My presence distressed the deviant more than anticipated," Connor said, finally speaking up. "If I had intervened, there was a strong probability of the deviant further injuring Dr. Hayes or itself. She was able to calm it down more effectively after I left." He took a few steps forward, putting his hand on her shoulder. "I'm sorry I couldn't keep her from being injured," he said, addressing Eli. "I'll do better in the future."

Eli took in his promise, silent for a moment, then nodded. "You'd better." Turning back to Clara, he said, "On a different note, there's something we need to talk about."

She looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to continue.

"Our friends had some news they wanted me to share with you." He looked pointedly at Connor. "Privately."

"My office?" She gestured with her head. He nodded. 

"Please wait in the hallway, Connor," she said, turning to the android. 

"Yes, Dr. Hayes," he said.

With that, Clara and Eli walked down the hall toward her office. Once there, they stepped inside, closing the door softly behind them. Clara leaned against the desk, facing him. "What's going on?"

Eli took a deep breath, then, giving her a look of concern, he said, "Somehow word got out that a Cyberlife researcher has been reactivating dead androids. There's a group of deviants going around asking about it and attacking a bunch of researchers associated with Cyberlife."

"Yes, one of the researchers on my floor was attacked the other day." Suddenly, a thought struck Clara. "The news story from the other day."

"Exactly," Eli continued. "Cyberlife put out a connection between you and them, so now the deviants might target you."

"I thought you took care of that." Clara's voice was quiet.

"I called in a few favors to get the news articles taken down, but they were still up long enough that someone may have seen them, and they'll still be archived somewhere, so anyone with an ounce of skill would still be able to find them. Plus the radio broadcasts. I couldn't stop those in time." He came to lean against the desk next to her. "I don't know how far they spread before I could get them taken down. There's a chance the wrong people saw it." He sighed heavily, rubbing his face. "I did damage control downstairs, so everyone knows it's against your will that you're even working with Cyberlife, but they're getting scared again Clara. I'm afraid something might slip through the cracks."

She leaned against him, putting her head on his shoulder. "It'll be alright," she said softly. "I don't think they'd betray us. Besides, none of the news articles mentioned that I was working there as a researcher and my face wasn't included in any of the articles. The rogue deviants won't know what I look like."

"You and I both know that's wishful thinking." Eli's voice was quiet and serious. "They know your name, and finding your academic history and a picture to match won't be too hard. They'd have to be total idiots not to connect the dots."

"I'll be okay, Eli." She tried to keep her voice as calm as possible, shoving down the sparks of fear she felt. "At the very least, I have Connor. He can't afford to let the deviants have me. What if I spill Cyberlife's secrets?" She lightened her tone, giving him an amused smile.

Eli glared at her a little. "This isn't funny, Clara. You could get seriously hurt."

Clara flinched at his tone, hurt. "I'm sorry," she said. 

Seeing her expression, he softened, putting his arm around her to draw her into an embrace. "I just want you to be safe. We've lost too many people already. I don't want to lose you too," he muttered against the top of her head.

She wrapped her arms around him, burying her face into his shoulder. "I know, Eli. I'll be careful."

"Please do," he whispered. He pulled away to look her in the eye. "If they hurt you, I'll kill them, deviant or not." His voice was harsh, and the hard glint in his eye let her know he was deadly serious. 

She nodded. "I'll be careful," she said again. 

*****

Connor stood outside Dr. Hayes' office listening, but aside from the rise and fall of their voices, he couldn't hear anything. He monitored the doctor's vital signs, aside from a brief rise in her heart rate, everything was normal. Whatever they were talking about, it wasn't causing her to be overly stressed. With nothing better to do, he stood there and waited. He thought about going to talk to Amanda, but he didn't think he could face her just then. There was too much on his mind. 

After a few more minutes, the door opened, and Dr. Hayes stepped out. She looked briefly at Connor, then moved past him. "Goodnight," she called as she headed toward the stairs. He heard as she rushed up, closing the door to her bedroom loud enough to be heard from where they were. Eli came out a few seconds later, hovering at the door to the office. He slowly closed it behind him. 

Connor looked at him questioningly, wondering what had happened in the office to make her rush off so quickly. Noticing his expression, Eli gave him a half smile. "She's tired." He made to move past Connor. 

"Why are you so protective of her?" Connor called after him, curious. "She seems capable enough on her own."

Eli paused mid-step, then turned to look at the android. His face was sad. "You're not wrong," he answered. "She's capable, but she has no sense of self-preservation, as you probably saw in the lab today. Someone needs to look out for her, because won't do it for herself." He paused, then, speaking softly, he said, "She's all I have left now. And she hasn't had the easiest life."

"What do you mean?" Connor's voice was light.

Eli sighed heavily. "It's a really long story, Connor."

"I have time." Connor offered him a small smile.

The man looked at him for a moment, considering. "Let's go sit then," he replied, moving toward the living room. Connor followed him, and they sat across from each other. Connor stared at him, waiting for him to continue. 

"Clara," Eli began, "is the best person I know. She was always really kind when we were younger, too kind, and she was so naïve. Several times, she put her trust in the wrong people, and each time, they betrayed her in some way. Usually it was someone pretending to be her friend, but really they were just using her for her parents' money. Sometimes it was worse though. She insisted on believing the best in people, no matter how many times it came back to bite." His eyes darkened as he frowned. "Then, she let the wrong person in, and well, everything went to hell."

"What happened?" Connor's voice was quiet.

"She met someone that needed help, and kind person that she was, she couldn't say no. She let them into her life, and she was willing to do anything for them, and they used her." Eli's words came out harsh and angry. "They took everything from her, and Abigail and I were left to pick up the pieces."

They were silent for a few minutes, each buried in their own thoughts. "How long have you known her?" the android asked.

Eli looked up, meeting his eyes, and continued. "Abigail adopted me when we were both 10. We didn't get along at first, but once we understood each other better, we were inseparable." He smiled at the memory.

"What was she like back then?" Connor kept his face straight, trying to hide his interest.

Eli opened his mouth to speak, then paused, looking at him suspiciously. "Why the sudden interest?"

"I'm just curious," he answered defensively. 

The big man leaned forward and stared at him, for a moment starkly resembling Dr. Hayes in mannerism. After a few seconds, he spoke again. "Alright, I'll bite."  

He leaned back in his chair then continued. "She was pretty outgoing as a kid, and even though she was naïve, she had a mischief streak a mile wide. We would play all kinds of harmless little pranks, though I'd usually end up getting the blame. She could convince people of anything, especially adults. This one time, we were at school, and during our lunch break, we snuck into the empty classroom and hid a bunch of pictures of Rick Astley around the room. The teacher was finding them for weeks." He chuckled a little. "She never found out who did it. Clara had this innocent act she would put on, and people ate that right up, so she was never even a suspect."

"Who's Rick Astley?" Connor asked, confused. 

"He's an old singer. He had a really well-known song that everyone hated. It was pretty popular for pranking though." He rubbed the back of his neck. "I guess it doesn't really make sense trying to explain it. You'll probably just have to look him up sometime."

"Oh, okay," the android said, still confused. He resolved to look it up later, as Eli suggested. 

"Anyway," Eli went on. "We had a lot of fun together, growing up." He smiled softly. 

Then his face fell a little. "She used to be so free, so happy. I still see flashes of it sometimes, but never like she was before her parents died."

This stirred up a memory in Connor. The fire and the obituary from the office. "What happened to them?" he asked. 

Eli looked a him, wearing a sad expression. "That's a story you'll have to hear from her when she's ready. It's not mine to tell." With that, he stood, walking toward the hallway. At the doorway, he paused, turning to look at Connor. "Be good to her," he said. "I won't say I trust you, but I at least trust in your ability to keep her safe. She could be in danger, Connor. Protect her."

Connor gave the man a nod, then Eli continued down the hall, leaving Connor alone in the living room to process what he'd learned. Dr. Hayes seemed so serious now, but the kindness still showed through, as did a little of the mischief. He wondered if he'd ever see the side of her that Eli had described. Knowing the repeated betrayals she'd face helped him understand why she was so suspicious of people now, but she seemed to have a soft spot for deviants despite that. What was it about them that made her drop her guard so easily? Not even with other humans did she do that. There had to be more to it than just their emotional displays. Connor mulled it over, lost in thought until morning, but still unable to find the answer. 

Chapter Text

Clara woke up the next morning sore and stiff. Her hand and knee were both swollen and aching. She got up from her bed carefully and limped to the bathroom. Once there, she unwrapped her injured hand to inspect it. The punctures had scabbed over, but it was now a bruised mess. She grabbed a wash cloth from the cabinet and wet it, gently wiping off the dried from around the scabs. Once it was clean, she got the first aid kit out from under her vanity sink and grabbed some ointment, gently smearing it over the scabs to keep them from getting infected. She tried wrapping fresh gauze around it, but couldn't quite get it tight enough. Sighing, she realized she was going to need help. 

She walked to the door of her bedroom and peeked out. Seeing no one, she walked down the hallway, stopping at Eli's door. She knocked on it gently, but received no answer. She cracked open the door and peeked in. A large form lay on the bed, unmoving aside from the subtle rise and fall of his chest. He was still asleep. She stood at the door, hesitating. She didn't want to wake him up.

"Dr. Hayes?" Clara jumped at the voice, whirling around. It was Connor. He'd come up the stairs, too quiet for her to notice. "What are you doing?" he asked.

She turned back around to close Eli's door before answering. "I was going to see if Eli was awake," she whispered. "I needed help wrapping my hand back up, but he's still sleeping."

The android glanced at her hand, which she held tightly against her chest. "I can help," he offered hesitantly.

Clara's eyes flickered back to her cousin's door. It wasn't worth waking him up over, she decided. "Alright," she said, looking back at the android. "Come on. There's a first aid kit in my room."

*****

Connor followed Dr. Hayes back down the hallway and into her bedroom. She opened the door and went in, not waiting for him to follow. He entered cautiously behind, hesitating briefly before stepping in. The room was messier than the last time he'd been there. The bed was a disheveled mess of tangled sheets, blankets, and pillows, and several cardigans lay draped over various pieces of furniture. A few pairs of shoes lay on the floor in front of the open closet, with several more piled haphazardly inside. He noticed an open book on her nightstand. Closer inspection revealed it as the fairy tale anthology that he'd seen in the living room. It was opened to the story of the goose girl. 

"Consider this your one free pass for being in here," the doctor called from the bathroom, where she was waiting for him.

"Noted," Connor replied, entering the bathroom behind her. It was a big open space with a glass shower in one corner and a large tub in the other. The opposite wall held a long vanity with various bottles and containers lined up under the mirror. The open first aid kit lay there as well. 

Dr. Hayes snagged the roll from the kit. "Here," she said, offering it to him. She leaned against the vanity, still holding her injured hand close.

The android took the gauze in one hand and held out the other for hers. She gently place her hand on his open palm. He leaned in a little closer, quickly analyzing the injury. The deviant had stabbed her hand several times, leaving four shallow punctures and lots of bruising. "You were fortunate that no bones were broken," he said aloud. 

"Yeah, it hurts like a witch, but at least there's that," she replied, giving him a wry smile. 

"Your cousin's right though," Connor continued, wrapping her hand gently. "You shouldn't take risks like that. What if you'd lost the use of your hand?"

Dr. Hayes sighed, frowning. "I didn't, so does it matter?" she huffed. "Like I told Eli, I wasn't about to let Simon hurt himself. I can handle a few bruises."

Connor processed this for a moment. Why did she put herself at risk like that? She hadn't known or trusted the deviant yet, so why did she protect him at her own expense? He thought again of Hank on the rooftop. He'd been willing to fight, and even die, for the deviants. Then Markus had died for them. Connor didn't understand it.

Just then, he recalled another rooftop, when the Connor series was first activated. The little girl on the roof. He hadn't managed to talk down the deviant, so he pushed it off the roof, dying with it but saving the girl. He was willing to sacrifice that body for the sake of his mission. Maybe it was like that. 

But...humans didn't come back. They couldn't be pieced back together after death and reactivated. They couldn't pass on their memories to a new body and keep on living. No. It was different. But Connor couldn't figure it out.

He shook himself out of the thoughts, sensing he'd not get anywhere useful, and finished wrapping her hand. "I don't understand you," he murmured, finishing off the bandage with a piece of tape. "Why do you risk yourself like this?" He cradled her hand in his. 

She sighed, looking away. "You sound like Eli, you know," she said softly. 

He waited expectantly for her to answer, eyes still silently asking the question.

After a few seconds, she continued, "I...I don't know. I just can't sit back and watch the people I care about get hurt. Not again." Her eyes hardened. "Never again."

"But you can't have grown to care about the deviant in that short an amount of time. You didn't even know it." His voice was quiet.

She looked at him, glaring harshly. "He is a person. He was afraid and needed help. That's all I needed to know." She sighed, turning her face away, exhausted. "I don't expect you to understand, Connor." She pulled her hand away from him, cradling it against her chest, seeming to fold in on herself. 

"How can you still do that after everything that's happened to you? It's illogical." His eyebrows knit in confusion. 

Dr. Hayes looked back up at him, narrowing her eyes. "What do you know?" Her voice held a note of suspicion. 

"Not much," he answered honestly. "Just that you've tried to help people in the past, and they've taken advantage of you. I know you've gotten hurt in the process. Eli told me some things last night. Nothing detailed, but enough to know that much."

Her face fell a little, and she smiled sadly. "Of course he did," she said. "He never did know when to stop talking."

"He cares for you," Connor remarked gently. 

"I know." Her words were nearly inaudible. 

They stood in silence for a few moments, then Dr. Hayes squared her shoulders, standing up straighter. "But we're going to be late to the lab if we don't leave soon." She pushed past him, returning to her bedroom. "We've got stuff to do, and I don't want to keep Kara and Simon waiting too long."

Connor followed her out. She headed for her closet, pulling out a black and white striped dress and tossing it on her bed. She turned to Connor, looking at him expectantly. "I appreciate your help with my hand, but I don't really need help changing." She gave him a teasing smile. 

"Right," he answered sheepishly. "I'll wait for you downstairs." He left the room, closing the door softly behind him. 

Making his way downstairs, he had a thought. Rather than waiting in the entryway like usual, he headed instead to the kitchen.

*****

Clara pulled her dress on carefully, trying to avoid using her injured hand too much. She then went to the bathroom again to change the bandage on her knee. She pulled off the old one to see the black and blue skin around the scrape then quickly covered it again with a fresh one. She pulled on her tights and slipped on a pair of shoes, then grabbed her bag, shoving her tablet and a few other things into it, and headed downstairs.  

Connor waited for her at the bottom, holding a thermos. When she reached the landing, he held it out to her, offering her a tentative smile. "I don't exactly have a cooking program installed, but I think I did it correctly."

"You made me tea?" she asked, taking the thermos cautiously. "Not trying to poison me are you?"

He gave her a mildly offended look. "I'm supposed to protect you, Dr. Hayes. Why would I poison you?"

"Fair enough," she said, smiling.

"Besides," the android continued, "if I did want to kill you, there are far more efficient ways to do it." He winked, returning her smile.

Clara felt blood rush to her cheeks, and she grew flustered for a moment. She pushed it down, maintaining her composure. "Why, Connor!" she said, "I didn't know you could joke."

"I can do a lot of things, Dr. Hayes," he answered, smirking slightly. 

She felt the blood rush back to her cheeks. Curse that stupid android and his stupid social relations program. She turned away quickly, hiding her discomposure. "Let's go then." She hitched her bag higher on her shoulder and walked determinedly toward the door. 

"Watch your step," he called after her.

Rolling her eyes, she opened the door, but she did watch out for the patches of ice. She wasn't eager for more bruises. She heard his footsteps behind her as they walked to the car. They both got settled in, then headed to the lab. 

Once they got there, Ms. Alvarez once again greeted them. She had dropped her friendly act and now kept a professional distance. "Amanda would like to speak with you," she said sharply.

"Of course," Clara snapped. She offered a sarcastic bow. "Her wish is my command. Lead the way, Ms. Alvarez."

The woman turned on her heel, leading them to the elevator. They made their way up silently, then walked to the conference room. Clara walked in, leaving Connor at his customary place by the door. She sat down at the large table, folding her arms in front of her. The hologram flickered into place, revealing Amanda's familiar form. 

"Dr. Hayes," it greeted. 

"Amanda." Clara kept her voice cold and even. 

The AI was silent for a moment, waiting for her to continue. When Clara said nothing, it spoke. "I understand the deviants in your lab are beginning to get out of control. Why do you keep them there rather than the provided cells?"

"They're fine, Amanda. They are just afraid when they first reactivate. It's nothing we can't handle. And the cells stress them out. I can't study them effectively when they're stressed." She spoke firmly. 

"I don't think you know what's at stake here, Dr. Hayes." The AI's voice was dark. "The rogue deviants are growing bolder, and they know someone is reactivating their fallen. They've already targeted several of our researchers. They know you're involved with us, so they may target you next."

"Yeah?" Clara responded angrily, voice rising. "And whose fault is that? You're the ones who put my name out there. It's almost like you want me to get targeted."

"What exactly are you accusing us of?" Amanda asked, sounding mechanical. 

"You know full well, Amanda." Clara glared harshly. 

The hologram issued a sigh. "Let's keep this civil, Dr. Hayes." 

"Bold words for people that had their lackeys shove a needle in my face and threaten me repeatedly." Her voice remained cold and even. 

The AI ignored her words, continuing. "Now, for security reasons, Cyberlife requires that either you keep the deviants in their cells, or you deactivate them after you're done with them so that we can move them to a secure warehouse for safekeeping and further study." She paused. "With the exception of your assistant, of course. After she's fitted with a tracker, you may do with her as you see fit."

"How magnanimous," Clara said sarcastically. She sighed, rubbing her face with her good hand. "You know what, whatever, Amanda. I'll figure it out."

"Good." The AI's tone resumed its usual businesslike quality. "Now, what progress have you made in your research?"

Clara glared at it, frustrated. "Really?" she asked, exasperated. "As I said last time, these things take time. I've barely had time to even talk to the deviants, let along properly study them. I've activated all of two of the ones you gave me. That's hardly a reputable sample size."

The AI's mouth flickered open to say something, but Clara cut it off. "You can keep your threats to yourself," she snapped. "I know what's at stake, and I can guess what you'll do to me if I fail." She leaned back in her chair. "Now, if all you're going to do is ask inane questions and make threats, then I think we're done here." She stood, knocking the chair back, turning to leave the room.

"Watch yourself, Dr. Hayes," the AI called after her. "We'd hate for anything...unpleasant to happen to you."

Clara left the room, saying nothing else. "Let's go, Connor," she muttered as she walked past him. He nodded silently, then followed her to the elevator. 

"Ugh, I hate her." Clara slumped against the wall, exhausted.

"Amanda can be...difficult sometimes," Connor agreed. "But she knows what she's doing."

She looked up at him, irritated. "Of course you'd say that," she scoffed. "That's what you're programmed to say."

He said nothing, a flash of hurt crossing his face. Clara felt a twinge of guilt at the words, but she said nothing else. They spent the ride down to the lab in silence.

Chapter Text

As soon as they reached the lab, Clara threw the door open and made a beeline for her desk, not noticing whether or not Connor followed. She pulled out her laptop and her tablet and began plugging in the various cords to set up her program. She felt Connor come stand beside her. 

"I need space, Connor," she snapped. "I can't work with you hovering like that." She moved round the desk to sit in her chair.

He backed away, saying nothing. She looked to see another flash of hurt. She sighed, pausing what she was doing and closing her eyes for a moment to calm herself down. "I'm sorry, Connor." She opened her eyes, looking at him. "I shouldn't be angry with you." She sighed again. "I'm just a little on edge right now. Between Amanda's constant threats and you and Eli mothering me, I've had a lot on my mind." 

She wrapped her arms around herself, bowing her head. "It's just...I feel like I can't breathe here. Every minute, I'm under scrutiny, and one wrong move will..." She paused, keeping herself from going any further, and she hardened her heart against him. "I shouldn't be telling you this. You'll just tell your masters, and they'll use my weaknesses against me." 

"I'm sorry." His voice was barely audible. 

She felt herself soften a fraction. "Remorse does you no good unless acted upon, Connor. You can say you're sorry, but until you're willing to do something about it, you're not sorry at all." She turned away from him, not wanting to see his reaction as she finished setting up the computer. 

After it was finished, she stood again, grabbing her bag and moving toward the interrogation room. She couldn't see Simon and Kara, but she knew they'd be there. She'd instructed them to stay hidden. She scanned her hand and pulled open the door, and noted them slumped beneath the window on standby. From that position, no one in the other room would notice them. She walked over to them, gently touching first Kara then Simon to wake them up. They blinked at her sleepily, but offered her soft smiles. 

"Good morning," Clara greeted softly. They murmured in response. She offered each a hand in turn to help them up, then guided them over to the rug, pushing aside the table to clear a spot for them all to sit. 

She turned to Kara. "Did you show him?"

The android nodded. "Yes, he knows everything. Or at least everything I know."

"Good." Clara nodded, satisfied. She turned to Simon, who looked at her with warm regard.

"You've done incredible things for us, Dr. Hayes," he said, voice gentle. "How have you managed it? With everything going on, how have you managed to stay hidden when no one else could?"

"We've gone to great lengths to stay untraceable." She smiled enigmatically. "It helps to have money and connections. You have a lot more sympathizers than you realize."

Both androids smiled at the statement, growing hopeful. Clara gave them a moment to absorb the information, then returned to a businesslike tone. "Now, there's something else you need to know." She paused, gathering her thoughts. "I'm going to need your help with something." The androids leaned in as she explained.

*****

Connor watched as Dr. Hayes disappeared into the interrogation room, then settled onto the floor with the androids. He moved closer to the window slowly, not wanting to draw attention. But no matter how close he got, he couldn't hear anything from the room. Dr. Hayes had turned the sound off. 

The android groaned internally, feeling frustrated. No other mission had given him such trouble. He stared through the window anyway, determined to gain what information he could. They were seated in a circle, with the two androids' backs to the window while Dr. Hayes faced it. 

He focused in, trying to read her lips. I'm going to need your help with something. So she was conspiring with them for something, but what? As she leaned forward, her loose hair fell into her face, partially obscuring her lips. He could no longer see what she was saying. Her eyes flickered up to meet his briefly. She knew he was watching. She subtly shifted, angling her face to further hide what she was saying. 

Connor cursed softly to himself but kept watching. He monitored the androids' stress levels, as well as Dr. Hayes' vital signs to at the very least determine their reactions to the conversation. He was disappointed to see no significant change in stress level, but he did note a slight elevation in Dr. Hayes' heart rate, likely indicating anxiety.

Several minutes passed while they discussed, and then eventually, they stood. Connor watched in confusion as they started moving the furniture around in the room. They pulled one of the chairs, moving it next to the other so that they both faced the same direction, and then the pushed the coffee table further aside, leaving the center of the room mostly clear, aside from the two chairs that were pushed together facing one side wall. 

He saw Dr. Hayes crouch down beside her bag and pull out a familiar box. She pulled out her peculiar watch, the one she'd used to interface with Kara. But rather than put it on, she brought it over to Kara, handing the watch to it and saying something. The android nodded and took the watch, putting it on. Then Dr. Hayes and Simon sat in the chairs with the Kara standing in front of them. 

Dr. Hayes and Simon began talking to the Kara, but Connor could not make out the words. Whatever they were saying took several minutes, then another peculiar thing happened. Simon stood, moving to where Kara was, and it took the watch, placing it on its own wrist. Kara now took the vacant seat by Dr. Hayes and began speaking to Simon, who now stood facing them in the same way it had been before. 

After a few more minutes of conversation, everyone stood, and the began moving the furniture again, restoring everything to the original positions. They congregated again in a corner, and Dr. Hayes said something. Simon took off the watch, handing it back to her. She slipped it on her bare wrist then walked to the door, pulling it open. 

*****

"Come on, Simon," Clara called, leaving the interview room, bag slung over her shoulder. He followed her out, looking cautiously over at Connor as he walked by. In the interview room, she'd given the android a brief explanation of her experiment process, and he'd agreed to do it with her, like Kara and Connor had. 

So, they now walked over to the desk to get started, and Clara pulled over a chair for Simon to sit. She saw a flicker of motion in her peripheral and looked up to see Connor moving toward them. She held her hand up for him, making a stopping motion. 

"Please stay over there," she said. "Simon is still anxious around you, and I need him to be calm for the procedure to work properly." She lay a comforting hand on Simon's shoulder as he sat. "He understands that you need to be in the room for security reasons, but I've promised him that you'll keep your distance."

Connor nodded, moving back to where he was seated in front of the window. 

Clara turned back to the desk, moving to sit down at it, facing Simon. "Alright," she began. "Before we start, I need your verbal consent to connect you with my program using this cord." She gestured with it. "This will allow me to track your electrical impulses and reactions as I ask you a series of questions. Do I have your consent, Simon?"

"Yes." Simon nodded for emphasis. 

"Wonderful," Clara smiled. She grabbed the cord, walking around the desk to stand behind the android, as she had done with so many before. He retracted the synthetic skin covering his port, and Clara pushed the cord in, sending a brief jolt through him. She returned to her seat at the desk. 

"I will be taking notes through this process, so do not be alarmed by that." She pulled out her tablet, cradling it with her injured hand, then held her stylus poised to write. She began with the same neutral questions she'd used for Connor, Kara, and the others to gauge his baseline reactions. After quickly working through them, they moved into the emotional ones.

Clara asked Simon about what he'd been feeling as a deviant, and what evoked those emotions. He told her about Jericho and his friends their. The feelings of hopelessness before Markus came. The determination their leader had sparked. He talked about how he'd wished he'd done more for their people, how he wished he'd had the courage. Then he talked about his last mission. Stratford Tower. The anxiety he'd felt during the infiltration, the pain and horror of getting shot, and finally the abject terror when Connor had found him. His LED flickered red, and his stress rose, but he kept it under control. He held nothing back, expounding in detail everything he could remember about his life as a deviant.

Determined to catch every detail, Clara studied the android closely, writing his account as quickly as possible. A few times, she'd looked up to see Connor staring at them intensely. Then, when Simon relayed his final memory of Stratford Tower and his death at his own hand, she noticed Connor's LED flicker red and a brief look of terror crossed his face. There was something there, she realized. Something she didn't know about yet. But it was clear that the events on the rooftop had left their mark on the android. She could use that. She made a note of the information, determined to  talk to him about it later, then she turned her attention back to Simon.

She finished working through the last few questions, and then finally, they were done. "Thank you for your cooperation, Simon." Clara offered him a gentle smile. "I know that can't have been easy."

He smiled back, wanly. "If it helps you, I can endure it."

Clara nodded, then came back around the desk to unhook him. "For what it's worth," she said gently, pulling out the cord, "I think you're amazing to have gone through all that and still have the strength to go on. I'm glad you're here, Simon, and I'm glad to have met you." She gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze, then walked back to the desk.

"Thank you," came his soft reply. She looked over her shoulder, meeting his warm blue eyes briefly. She smiled, then turned back to her desk, unhooking several wires, but leaving the computer to finish processing the information from the session. 

"What now?" Simon asked quietly. 

Clara finished putting her things away, then turned back to the android. "I think it's time to welcome another friend into our lab." Smiled again at him, then headed to the lab door. "Can you give me a hand, Connor?" She looked at where he stood, silent. 

He nodded, moving to meet her at the door. "What do you need?"

"Let's see if we can get another deviant activated." She moved across the hallway to the cell room. Opening it, she walked inside, heading over to where the gurneys were lined up. She looked at them carefully, deciding which one to work with next. The PJ500 caught her eye. According to his file, he'd been a member of Jericho, killed during the final push. She wondered if Simon knew him.

"Let's take that one," she said, pointing. Connor nodded and grabbed the edge, pulling it out of the lineup. Once it was out far enough, Clara grabbed the other side, helping him move it. They quickly brought it back to the lab, leaving it along the same wall where they'd put Simon and Kara. 

Intrigued, Simon stood, walking to stand next to Clara as she pulled the cover off the android. He issued a slight gasp, and she turned to see a look of shocked horror on his face. His LED flickered a deep red. 

"It's Josh." The word's were barely audible. His eyes filled with tears as he stood frozen, staring at his friend's body. 

Clara put her hand to his cheek, turning his face to look at her. "I'm sorry, Simon," she whispered. She grabbed his arm and pulled him into a hug. "We'll bring him back. I promise."

He returned the hug, holding onto her like a lifeline. Clara was vaguely aware of Connor watching from across the room. Kara, who had come out of the interview room, came to stand by them, placing a comforting hand on Simon's shoulder. After a few moments, he regained his composure, pulling away. He wiped the tears off his face and squared his shoulders. 

"Where do we start?" His voice held a note of determination. 

Clara offered him a smile, then started issuing instructions. 

*****

Connor watched from his corner as Dr. Hayes and the androids shuffled around the room, grabbing tools and parts, carrying them over to the prone form on the gurney. 

"Connor," Dr. Hayes called to him. "Can you scan him and tell me which parts need replaced?"

Connor started toward them, but hesitated. "I don't think having another active deviant in your lab is a good idea, Dr. Hayes."

"What, don't think you'll be able to handle them?" She smirked mischievously. "Come on, it'll be fine." She beckoned him over. 

Sighing heavily, Connor came forward, scanning the android. He gave her the list of broken parts, then returned to where he'd been standing to watch the events unfold. 

Clara sat on a stool on one side of the gurney, and Simon sat across from her. They spoke softly.

"You see this part here?" She gestured to something inside the android's torso. "You disconnect here and here, then pull it out carefully." She was teaching him to repair androids.

Simon followed her instructions, pulling out the broken piece. Clara handed him a new one and quietly instructed him on putting it back in. They repeated the process with several more parts until finally, they had replaced the last piece. 

They carefully sat the android up, pouring a little thirium down its throat, and waited. Simon grabbed its hand retracting the skin to reveal the white shell underneath. He closed his eyes, LED flashing yellow briefly, and the android woke up.

It looked around in confusion, LED flashing red. "Where am I?" it asked. 

"Josh." Simon's voice was quiet. 

"Simon?" The android looked at him, uncertain. "But you died. At Stratford Tower. We had to leave you behind."

Simon smiled gently. "I was reactivated." He placed a hand on the android's shoulder. 

"It's so good to see you!" The android finally smiled. He pulled Simon into a tight hug. "I never thought I'd get the chance to again."

Simon returned the hug, then pulled away, gesturing to Dr. Hayes. "This is Clara," he said. "She's the one responsible for this."

Josh slid off the gurney, landing carefully on his feet. He took a few steps toward the doctor, taking her uninjured hand. "I can't thank you enough." He pulled her into a hug. "You have no idea what this means for us."

Connor watched as she hesitantly returned the embrace, saying nothing. Then the android pulled away again, looking around. 

"That's Kara," Dr. Hayes said, gesturing to the female android. "She helped too."

Josh turned to her, taking her hand and thanking her as well. Then his eyes landed on Connor. He flinched, taking a few steps back. "What's he doing here?" His voice was harsh. "Don't you know how many lives were lost because of him?"

"I know," Simon said darkly. "But he hasn't done anything yet."

"I think you two should have some time to catch up," Dr. Hayes interrupted. "Come on." She gestured toward the interrogation room, opening the door for them. The three androids followed her in, leaving Connor out in the lab. Dr. Hayes said a few things, and handed the new android a bundle of fresh clothes then came back out, leaving the three alone. She locked the door behind her. 

"Time to go, Connor." She walked to the desk, grabbing things and stuffing them in her bag. "It's getting late."

"Are you just going to leave them in there?" He gave her a look of disbelief. "What if they're planning an escape?"

Dr. Hayes laughed. "It's a highly secure facility. I don't think they could escape even if they wanted to." She looked back at the window, watching them for a moment. "Besides, I trust them. They won't do anything."

Connor felt a twinge of...something. Jealousy? How could she trust them when she just met them? They were deviants. Two of them had attacked her. It didn't make sense.

"How can you trust them so easily?" he asked aloud, bewildered. . He took a few steps forward, standing by her desk as she put her things away.

She looked at him, then back at the window, the ghost of a smile on her face. "Because they're honest. They're so free with their thoughts and emotions. They have no ulterior motives, no pretenses. And the only thing they want from me is the promise of safety and comfort, and I am happy to give them that." She paused for a moment, looking back at Connor. "That's more than I can say for most people I've met."

He remembered Eli's words from the night before about how people had taken advantage of her her whole life. He looked back at the window and watched as the deviants talked and laughed with each other, in that moment looking so...human. She was right, he realized. They were honest. And they weren't using her. Not like Cyberlife was. Not like he was. He felt something spark inside himself. Remorse?

No. He shook himself, shoving the thought back down. I am a machine, he reminded himself. He had no room for remorse. He had a mission to complete.

He turned his attention back to Dr. Hayes, who had finished packing her bag and was typing something into her phone. She finished swiftly, putting it in her pocket. "Let's go." She slung her bag over her shoulder and walked to the door. She turned to look at him, waiting for him to catch up. He followed her out. 

*****

Clara waited patiently for Connor to exit the lab behind her, then she turned around to lock it, engaging the biometric lock. She knew that wouldn't keep everyone out, but she hoped it would keep too many people from snooping. She felt a buzz from her pocket, and pulled out her phone. 

Everything's in place, the text read. Good.

Good. She tucked it back into her pocket, then continued her way down the hall. Turning a corner, she saw Dr. Hollister a few yards down. She groaned internally. She'd hoped he'd have gone home. It was a little after 7pm, so most people likely had. Bracing herself, she kept walking. 

Hearing the sound of her footsteps, the man turned, offering her a smile. Several spatters of thirium streaked across his white lab coat. Clara's eyes widened in surprise. What had he been doing?

"You're working late," he remarked. 

"So it would seem." She kept her voice carefully neutral. She eyed the blue streaks on his coat.

Following her gaze, he glanced down, then met her eyes again. "Ah, yes. My subjects got a little...unruly today. I was forced to use more extreme measures." He gave her a grim smile. 

"What exactly is it you do here?" she asked, not sure if she really wanted to know. 

"Stress tests," he answered. "I'm working with a few new models to see how much stress they can withstand before they turn deviant. We've made progress in increasing their stress capacity. The next release of androids will be much more resilient."

Clara's stomach lurched at the implications. "I see." She felt her voice shake a little. 

"It's not a job most people can handle, given how human the android's look," he continued. "But I don't mind it." He gave her another sadistic smile. "They're just machines, after all."

Clara suppressed a shudder. She felt Connor step closer to her, and she felt a measure of comfort at his presence. "If you'll excuse us, Dr. Hollister, it's rather late. Have a good evening." She gave him a polite nod, then moved past him, heading toward the elevator. 

"Be careful tonight," the man called after her. "The deviants are still out there. They've gotten two more researchers. I'd hate for something to happen to you too."

Clara ignored him, climbing into the elevator. She issued a heavy sigh, slumping against the wall. After a moment, she punched in the floor number for the entrance. The elevator lurched into motion.

"I don't like him," Connor remarked, breaking the silence. 

"That makes two of us." Clara gave him a weak smile. "Anyone who enjoys torturing androids is better avoided." She shuddered. "He displays classic psychopathic tendencies. I'd suggest limiting our contact with him."

"I'm inclined to agree." He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Are you alright? You always seem a little shaken after talking to him."

"I'm fine," she said, shaking off his hand. "He just makes me very uncomfortable."

She felt Connor back away, saying nothing. The elevator was silent for the remainder of the ride. Eventually, it came to a stop, doors opening to the lobby. They stepped out and headed for the door, where Ms. Alvarez waited for them. She held another small box. When they were close enough, the woman spoke, holding out the box. "Here's the tracker we've made for your assistant. Be sure to use it." She shoved the box into Clara's hands, then turned on her heel abruptly, walking away. 

Clara rolled her eyes then walked out the door, waiting for her car. After a few seconds, it was pulled around for her, and she and Connor climbed in. She punched in a set of coordinates, and then the car lurched into motion.

Satisfied with the direction they were moving, Clara looked down at the box in her hands. She opened it carefully, seeing that it contained a device much like the one on her own wrist. At least it wasn't another chip. Kara would have hated that. She would likely tolerate this alternative. She closed the box back up, setting it on the seat beside her, then leaned against her window, staring out into the night. She wasn't entirely prepared for what was going to come next, but it was a risk she'd have to take. She breathed carefully, trying to keep her anxiety at bay. She didn't want an elevated heartrate to alert Connor to her emotional state.

She glanced at the android. He stared out the window, LED a calm, steady blue. Noticing her attention, he turned back to her. She quickly looked away. 

"Dr. Hayes?" His voice interrupted her thoughts.

She looked back at him. "Yes, Connor?"

"Can I ask a question?" He was quiet and hesitant.

"Go ahead," she said, giving him a warm smile.

"Why do you go to such lengths to make sure your subjects are comfortable?" He gave her a curious look. 

Clara thought for a moment, formulating her response. "Are you familiar with Maslow's hierarchy of needs?"

The android shook his head.

Clara continued. "It's a popular concept in social science fields. One of it's main principles is that people need to have basic needs, like food, shelter, clothing, safety and such, met before they can attend to higher things, like emotional and fulfillment needs. Openness and trust are part of those higher needs. So, if I want the deviants to be open and honest with me, I need to make sure those basic needs are met. Safety and comfort breed openness and trust."

He knit his brows, processing the information. "When I was working at the DPD, we would interrogate deviants. In order for them to talk, we need them to be adequately stressed. None of the ones you've worked with so far have been optimally stressed for confessions."

Clara laughed a little. "I'm not extracting confessions, Connor. I'm building relationships. Why use an ax to open the door when a key would suffice?" She shook her head, amused. "Sure it takes more time than your methods, but the results are far better. People will say anything under duress if they think it'll save them, regardless of whether or not its true, but if you allow them time to calm down and trust you, they'll be much more honest."

"That might work with humans, but deviants are different. They don't think the same way." He frowned a little.

Clara met his eyes. He truly believed that, she realized. Keeping her voice calm and serious, she asked, "In my studies of deviants over the years, do you know what I discovered over and over again?"

"What?" His voice was hesitant.

"Humans and deviants are not so different at all. They think the same, act on the same sorts of impulses, and often have the same emotional capacity. If there's a difference at all, it's that deviants will often feel things deeper, due to their superior processing capabilities as well as their ability to perfectly recall their memories. But they also recover faster from emotional trauma." She paused, taking a deep breath. "It doesn't matter if a person is human or android. In the end, they'll all respond predictably when presented with the right circumstances."

She looked at the android calmly. His expression was carefully blank, but his LED flickered yellow. She continued. "I'm willing to bet that your investigation and social relations programs rely heavily on that concept. If you go back and think, I'm sure you'll discover a similar pattern in your own experiences." She fell silent, leaving the android with his thoughts, and resumed staring out the window. They were almost there.

After a few more moments of silence, Connor spoke again. "Where are we going? This isn't the way home."

"I wanted to make a stop." She kept her voice even. "I'm hungry, and I don't feel like cooking."

"Oh." He nodded, seeming to accept the answer. 

The car continued, eventually crossing over into the more rundown area of the city, far from the Cyberlife Tower. After several more minutes, it came to a stop at a dingy café, pulling into a parking spot along the road. When it halted, Clara bent down over her bag, grabbing her wallet but leaving the rest of the bag behind. She carefully climbed out of the car and walked to the entrance, pulling open the door. Connor stepped in behind her. The café was empty aside from the barista and a woman at a table in the corner.

The worker at the counter greeted them with a bored smile, that faltered when she saw Connor. "No androids allowed," she said, pointing a sign on the counter. "Your tin can will have to wait outside."

She felt Connor stiffen beside her. She turned, placing a hand on his arm. "It's alright, Connor. I'll only be a few minutes. I'm in no danger here." She smiled up at him. 

"My instructions stipulate that I'm to stay with you at all times." His voice sounded mechanical.

Clara sighed, but pressed on. "I'll be fine for a few minutes without you. I've got my lovely little tracker on, so you can monitor me to your heart's content." She gestured with it. "And I'm too tired to argue with the lovely barista about it." She paused, thinking for a moment. "Besides, it's probably about time for you to make your report to Cyberlife, right? You can wait in the car and do that."

He considered for a moment, then sighed. "What ever you say, doctor." He gave her a single nod, then left, and she watched as he opened the car door and climbed back in.

Clara took a deep breath then walked to the counter, offering the barista a smile once she got close enough. "I'll take a lemon poppy seed muffin and a small chai with whole milk."

"For here or to go?" The woman gave her a bored look. 

"To go." Clara smiled again politely.

"That'll be $8.97." 

Clara handed her a $10. "Don't worry about the change." 

"It'll just be a few minutes." The barista finished processing the order, then set about making it. 

"Lovely." She looked around. "Do you have a restroom?"

The barista gestured toward a hallway off to the side. "Second door on the left."

"Great, thanks!" Clara offered her one more polite smile then headed down the hallway. She entered the bathroom and climbed into a stall, taking a deep breath. 

She heard the bathroom door open again as someone else entered. After waiting a few minutes, she flushed the toilet then opened the stall door. A woman with reddish brown hair and a beanie stood at one of the sinks, letting the water run over her hands. The woman who'd been sitting at the table. Ignoring her, Clara went to a different sink. Placing her hands on either side, she hung her head, taking a deep breath and trying to keep the anxiety under control. 

She heard a small click and saw a flicker of motion from where the woman was standing. She looked up and found herself staring down the barrel of a pistol. 

"Don't move," the woman said quietly. "Keep your hands where I can see them."

Clara froze, complying. Her heart jumped into her throat. "You're one of the deviants that attacked the other researchers." Her voice trembled. 

"Very astute, Dr. Hayes." The woman's tone held a dangerous edge. "Now, where's Markus."

"I don't know who you're talking about," Clara said, fighting to stay calm.

"We both know that's a lie." The woman took a step closer, pressing the barrel of the gun under Clara's chin. "Tell me the truth."

"I--I can't. Not here." She could barely choke the words out. She took a breath. "Listen to me, North. I can help you."

Her eyes widened briefly in surprise, but she gave no other reaction. "I don't believe you." She jabbed harder with the gun. "The tracker. Where is it?"

"It's the black band around my left wrist." Clara desperately fought to stay calm.

Faster than she could react, the android brought the gun up, slamming the grip into Clara's temple, and the world went black.

*****

Connor was reluctant to leave Dr. Hayes alone in the café, but he agreed it wasn't worth arguing over. He could monitor her vitals through the device if he felt she was in danger. He watched as she walked up to the counter and placed her order. Satisfied that she was safe for now, he closed his eyes, sinking into his mind space. When he opened them again, he was in the Zen garden.

Looking around, he saw Amanda waiting for him on the center island tending to the rose trellis. He made his way to her, stopping a respectable distance. 

"Connor," she said warmly. "It's good to see you." She sprayed a few more roses, then turned to him. "What news do you have?"

"Dr. Hayes has been making steady progress in reactivating the deviants and using her program on them. She's reactivated three so far." He watched as her expression morphed into a frown. 

"Has she kept all three active?" Her voice took on a cold quality. 

"Yes," he answered honestly. "She's been keeping them locked in the interrogation room in her lab."

"Together?" Her tone held a note of disapproval. 

"Yes."

"That's not good at all." She picked up a pair of shears and aggressively cut a rose stem. "She was instructed to either deactivate them when she's finished or keep them in their cells. Having them banded together like that is a breach of security." She turned back to Connor. "You will ensure that she follows these instructions."

"Yes, Amanda." He kept his voice even. 

She turned back to the trellis, resuming her cutting. "Now, what else have you learned?"

"She's definitely sympathetic to the deviants, but she's revealed nothing aside from that." He remembered her words in the car the day before. I do care. Is that what you want to hear? I empathize with them. I take their troubles on as my own.

"She seems to trust the deviants," he continued. "She has a soft spot for them."

Amanda considered this for a moment. "You may be able to use that to your advantage. Find out what it is about them that lowers her guard."

"I'm working on it." He took a breath. 

"How has your own relationship with her progressed?" Amanda's voice was calm, but something about it set Connor on edge.

"It's...improving," he began cautiously. "I've made some progress, but every time I think I'm starting to win her over, she withdraws. She does her best to keep me out of conversations, and she barely tells me anything."

Amanda sighed, closing her eyes. Connor sensed that her patience was slipping. "We're running out of time, Connor." Her voice was harsh. "Find out what she's hiding."

"I will," he said quietly. 

"I don't think you understand what's at stake here, Connor." Amanda took a step closer, eyes darkening dangerously. "Whatever she's hiding, it could be a threat to Cyberlife. She's dangerous, and we cannot afford to let her slip through our grasp."

She stepped closer, face mere inches from Connor's. "If you do not succeed here, you'll be permanently replaced and deactivated. You have so much potential, Connor. Don't make me regret bringing you back."

Connor felt a flicker of unease. "Yes, Amanda," he whispered, avoiding her eyes. 

"Now, get back to your mission, Connor. And remember what you have to lose." She snapped her fingers, and the Zen garden dissolved around him.

When he opened his eyes, he was back in the car. He looked at the clock and saw several minutes had passed since he'd gotten back in. Dr. Hayes still hadn't returned. He stepped back out of the car, peering through the café window. A paper bag and cup sat on the pickup counter, but Dr. Hayes was nowhere in sight. He waited a few more minutes, stifling a feeling of anxiety. 

Still no sign of the doctor. 

Finally, Connor reached out, interfacing with her wrist device.

Nothing. He felt nothing. No vital signs. He couldn't even properly connect to the device. He felt a surge of panic and burst into the café. He crossed quickly to the counter, catching the attention of the barista. 

"You can't be in here," she said, voice high. 

"Where is she?" Connor's voice was low and vicious as he stepped toward her. 

The barista backed away, pointing toward a narrow hallway. "She went to the bathroom a while ago. She hasn't come out yet."

Connor turned away and stalked down the hallway, slamming the door open. He saw no sign of the doctor. Activating his scanner, he looked around the room. All the stalls were empty. One of the sinks had a layer of water. It had been used recently. He noticed fingerprints on an adjacent sink. Further inspection revealed them as Dr. Hayes'. He glanced around that sink, noticing a smear of blood on the floor. Bending down, he dipped his fingers into it and brought them to his mouth. Sampling the blood, he discovered that it too belong to Dr. Hayes. Her round gold-framed glasses lay under the sink, a small crack running through one lens. He picked them up and slid them into one of the pockets of his jacket.

The android took a few steps back, analyzing the room again. This time, he noted footprints in the water, barely there. They were from size 8 women's tennis shoes. Someone else had been here. A speck of black drew his attention from one of the stalls. He walked over, bending down. It was smashed remains of the tracker. Someone had broken it. It had a few flecks of blood along one sharp edge, also belonging to Dr. Hayes. 

Returning to the sinks, he noted a cleaner streak on the floor. Something had been dragged. Following the streak, he finally noticed a small window near the top of the wall, about 5 feet high. It was small, but not too small for a person to fit through. He stepped closer, inspecting it. Fresh scrapes in the window track indicated that it had been opened recently. There was a smudge on the window in the shape of a handprint, but it had no fingerprints. An android had likely opened it. A few strands of blonde hair were caught in the window latch, likely the doctor's. He noted a wallet beneath the window as well. He picked it up and opened it to see Dr. Hayes' driver's license. He tucked the wallet into another pocket. Bending back down, he noticed a faint set of larger footprints, which moved away from the window to where Dr. Hayes' body would have fallen.

Connor combined all the information, then took several steps back to stand at the entrance to the bathroom. Closing his eyes, he reconstructed the scene. 

Dr. Hayes had come out of the stall to stand at the sink. She had placed her hands on either side of the sink, then something startled her, and she turned away. Her attacker approached her from the sink by the window and had knocked her out. Dr. Hayes collapsed, hitting her head on the ground, leaving a streak of blood and losing her glasses. The attacker had then broken off the tracker, likely scratching the doctor's wrist in the process, and had thrown it under the stalls, out of sight. An android, a male model most likely, based on the size of the footprints, had then opened the window and dropped into the room. The two attackers had dragged Dr. Hayes across the floor to the window, and they'd all exited that way. It's likely they didn't notice the doctor's wallet falling. 

He suspected it was the rogue deviants. Somehow they'd know the doctor would be here. This was too clean and efficient to have been a chance meeting. 

Pushing the thoughts aside, Connor walked to the window and slid it open. He carefully climbed out and looked around more. He noted some tire tracks leading out of the alley, but when they hit the road, they blended in with all the others. Whoever had taken the doctor was likely long gone.

Connor swore softly, feeling a spark of frustration. This mission was not going well.

Chapter Text

Connor stared at the road, trying in vain to see the tracks. He wasn't going to be able to do this alone. There was too much ground to cover and not enough time. He thought for a moment, then dialed.

"DPD, what's your emergency?"

"I'd like to report a kidnapping. A Cyberlife researcher taken by the rogue deviants approximately ten minutes ago."

"What's the location?"

Connor recited the address of the dingy café. 

"Please hold the location. Officers have been dispatched. They should reach you within 10 minutes." He heard a click and the line went dead.

Time went by agonizingly slow as Connor waited for the police. He paced at the front of the café restlessly, idly rolling his coin across his knuckles to calm himself. He couldn't stop thinking about Dr. Hayes. She'd been injured, likely sustaining a headwound. It was cold, and she hadn't worn her jacket into the café. What if the deviants hurt her further? What if she gave them information on Cyberlife? A billion more what if's rolled around in his head, driving him mad. Why hadn't he just stayed in the café with her, to hell with what the barista said?

He froze. This was getting him nowhere. He was a machine, logical and analytical. If he let himself be driven by anything else, he risked missing crucial details. He took a calming breath, and slid his coin back into his pocket. He could not allow himself to panic. He would find her.

At long last, he saw the flashing lights of the police cruisers as they pulled in front of the café. A familiar form stepped out of one of them. 

"Well, if it isn't the plastic detective," Gavin taunted. "I thought you were deactivated permanently after all the revolution shit."

"You thought wrong," Connor answered coldly. 

"What are you doing here?" The detective stepped closer, squaring up. "Your partner's gone, and you're not with the DPD anymore."

"Cyberlife assigned me to monitor the researcher that was taken. They took her while I was...distracted." Connor stared the man down, calmly. 

"Looks like you've failed your mission." Gavin spoke softly, voice holding a note of satisfaction. After a moment, he backed off. "Guess even plastic assholes like you can make mistakes."

"That's enough, Detective Reed," another voice interjected. Connor looked over to see another figure climbing out of the car. He felt a flash of surprise. It was the RK900. What was it doing here?

"We have a crime scene to investigate and a researcher to find." The android joined the two in front of the café. "Cyberlife will be very disappointed if we don't recover her."

"Here comes the other plastic prick," Gavin said, rolling his eyes. 

Ignoring him, the RK900 offered his hand to Connor. "My name is Richard. I'm the android sent by Cyberlife to investigate the rogue deviants remaining from the revolution." Connor took the android's hand, shaking it briefly. 

"What's the situation?" Richard asked. 

Dropping the android's hand, Connor started the briefing. "The researcher's name is Dr. Clara Hayes." He held up his hand to show them a picture of her and led them inside. "She was taken at approximately 8:15pm. The attackers left few clues as to where they were going. Dr. Hayes was rendered unconscious then abducted from the café bathroom. They escaped through the window. It was quick and quiet. The barista heard no sounds of struggle."

Gavin headed to the counter where the barista was waiting, flashing his badge and beginning his questioning. While he did that, Connor and Richard headed to the bathroom. The RK900 ran his own scan, investigating the crime scene. He came to the same conclusion as Connor.

"The deviants have never actually abducted a researcher before," it said. "Usually they just rough them up and ask questions. Quick and quiet. This is different. Either they're getting desperate, or there's something special about this Dr. Hayes."

"She had direct access to a lot of high profile deviants, including their former leader" Connor said, answering the implied question. "They must have found out somehow."

"I see. We've been on their trail for months, but they've always managed to elude us. Perhaps this will be the breakthrough we've been waiting for." The android's voice was grim. 

Knowing they'd gain no further insight from the bathroom, they left, making their way back outside and around to the alley on the side of the building. They passed by Detective Reed, who was still questioning the barista.

Once outside, Richard scanned the area around the window, taking note of the footprints and tire tracks that Connor had seen earlier. Something caught his attention by the dumpster, and he walked over, bending down to pick something up. He walked back over to Connor, holding the object up.

"Recognize this?" He held up a small black shoe. One of Dr. Hayes' heels. 

"Yes," Connor answered, taking it from him. "It belongs to Dr. Hayes. It must have fallen off when they were moving her to the car."

"They were in a hurry," Richard remarked. "That made them sloppy."

"Likely they knew they'd only have a short window of opportunity. They didn't have time to clean up the mess." Connor inspected the shoe closely. It held no other clues. 

Hearing footsteps approach, both androids whirled around. Detective Reed turned the corner, coming down the alleyway to where they waited. "The barista doesn't know much. She said there was only one other person here. A woman with reddish brown hair wearing a black beanie. She arrived shortly before Dr. Hayes and followed her into the bathroom. She heard nothing, but neither woman exited the bathroom."

"That matches the description the other victims gave. It's the same android that's been present for every other attack." Richard rubbed its chin thoughtfully. "She's likely their current leader."

Connor considered for a moment. "Are there any CCTV feeds?"

"Already checked," Gavin said. "Whoever abducted Dr. Hayes also hacked the cameras. They showed nothing. These fuckers were thorough."

"This was much better organized than the other attacks." Richards's voice was pensive. "They might have known that Dr. Hayes would be here." It turned to Connor. "Who else knew you were coming here?"

Connor contemplated for a moment. "As far as I'm aware, no one knew. She didn't even tell me where we were going until we were nearly here." Then a thought struck him. "Eli. Her cousin. Elias Bowen-Hayes. He might have known."

"Guess it's time we pay Mr. Hayes a visit," Richard said. It went back around front and began issuing orders to the other officers to cordon off the area. The officers sprung to action, rolling out tape, and one carefully escorted the barista to one of the cruisers, likely taking her in to get an official statement. Once that was finished, he instructed them to begin their search of the surrounding areas. "Call us as soon as you find anything," it said. The officers nodded in acknowledgement, then began splitting into teams.

Richard turned back to Connor. "You'll come with us, Connor." It opened the door to Gavin's cruiser, gesturing for him to climb in. Connor nodded, complying. Once the other two took their seats, Connor gave them the address for Dr. Hayes' house, and they headed out. 

*****

The splitting pain in Clara's head pulled her back into consciousness, coupled with the biting cold sinking into her bones. She opened her eyes to complete blackness, vision obscured by the cloth tied around her head. Several strands of her hair had gotten caught up in the knot and tugged uncomfortably at her scalp. She was seated on a hard chair, her arms pulled back behind her at an uncomfortable angle, and her wrists were tied tight enough to cut off circulation to her fingers, but she could still feel the sharp ache of her injured hand. Her ankles were bound tight as well, and she noticed the conspicuous absence of her shoes, which must have gotten lost somewhere along the way. The ground was frigid beneath her feet, which sapped the heat from her through the thin barrier of her torn tights. As she sat there in the silence, broken only by the slow, steady drip of distant water, a draft periodically blew across her, chilling her further.

The sound of footsteps broke the silence. "We know you're awake, Dr. Hayes," a cold female voice said.

The footsteps grew closer, and Clara felt the warm heat radiating off the android as she leaned in. "Say something." The voice came a few inches from her face.

Clara said nothing, instead focusing on calming her breathing. 

"Where is Markus?" The android repeated the question she'd asked in the bathroom of the café.

Still, Clara remained silent, sinking into herself, pushing down the anxiety. 

She felt a flash of pain on her cheek as a loud crack filled the air. The android had slapped her. "Answer me, you bitch," the voice hissed, mere inches from Clara's face. 

"No where you can reach him," Clara said, finally speaking. Her voice came out hoarse. 

The android slapped her again, sending a shoot of pain through her head and neck. Then fingers wrapped tightly around her throat as the android leaned in again, her warm breath brushing against Clara's face.

"Where. is. he?" She repeated the question, harsh and impatient. 

*****

Detective Reed's car made it's way up the long, winding driveway to Clara's mansion. When the sight of the house broke through the trees, Gavin let out a long whistle. "Fancy place she's got here," he remarked. "Who'd you say this woman was?"

"She's a Cyberlife researcher," Connor answered coldly. "That's all you need to know."

"What was her name? Dr. Clara Hayes?" He paused for a moment, thinking. "Oh, I remember now. She was in the news a few days ago. Some rich heiress, right? I wonder if she's looking for a lover." He chuckled.

"I'd appreciate if you kept your comments to yourself." Connor glared darkly at the detective. "Just focus on the investigation."

"Oh, did I strike a nerve?" He smirked at Connor through the rearview mirror. "Does the poor little tin can have feelings for the rich science bitch? Doesn't he know humans and androids can't mix?"

"Detective Reed," Richard interrupted. "Your childish behavior is unbecoming of a DPD professional. Kindly shut up." It glared sternly at the man.

Gavin gave his partner a look of disgust. "Ugh, you're both such killjoys. Why couldn't they have programmed you to take a fucking joke?" He rolled his eyes but fell silent. 

Soon, they pulled up to the front, parking beside Eli's car. Connor climbed out, followed closely by the two detectives. Connor climbed the stairs, carefully stepping around the ice. They really did need to salt the steps. He heard a sound behind him, and turned to see Detective Reed slip on a patch of ice, catching himself heavily on the railing. 

"Phck," he muttered. Pulling himself upright. He glared down at the stairs the resumed walking up them. 

Connor turned back to the door, raising his hand to knock. 

"Hold it, tin can." Gavin shoved him over. "This is my investigation. I'll do the talking."

Connor rolled his eyes, but let the detective take the lead. The man knocked hard on the door. "DPD, open up!"

After a few seconds, Connor heard footsteps approaching. The door creaked open, revealing Eli's large form. He looked at them, confused. Catching sight of Connor, his eyes widened in alarm. "Connor," he said. "Where's Clara?" He looked at Richard and Gavin. "Who are these people, and why does this android look like you? What's going on?"

Richard stepped forward. "Good evening, Mr. Hayes. My name is Richard. I'm an RK900 android sent to help the DPD investigate the rogue deviants. We're in the middle of an investigation. We ask for your cooperation in this matter."

Eli ignored the android, looking instead at Connor. "What's going on?" he repeated.

"There's been a...development," Connor answered. "May we come in?"

"Alright." Eli hesitantly moved aside, beckoning for them to enter.

He led Connor and the detectives through the house, guiding them into the living room. He took a seat, giving them a concerned look. "What's this about, Connor? Where's Clara?"

"She's been taken by the rogue deviants," Richard said, taking control. "We need to ask you a few questions."

Eli's eyes darkened. He stood up and stepped toward Connor, glaring harshly, hands shaking with barely controlled rage. "You were supposed to protect her," he said, voice dangerously calm. "How could you let this happen?"

"Slow down there, big guy," Gavin intervened, placing a hand on Eli's chest to keep him in place. "We're asking the questions."

"Shut up," Eli snarled, shooting a deadly glare at the detective. He shoved him away, causing the man to stumble, crashing into another chair. He stood back up quickly, squaring his shoulders, looking ready to fight back.

"That's enough, both of you." Richard pushed between the two men. "Perhaps it's best I take the lead on this one, Detective Reed." 

Gavin glared for a moment, then nodded. "Fine." 

Turning away, Richard took a step toward Eli, holding up its hands in a calming gesture. "Please, Mr. Hayes," it said, voice even. "We're doing our best to find your cousin, but we need your cooperation."

Eli stared the android down for a few moments, then sighed, looking exhausted. He slumped back into his chair. "Fine. Ask your questions."

"Thank you." Richard took a seat on the couch across from the man, and Connor and Gavin sat on either side. "Now, did Dr. Hayes say anything to you about where she was going this evening?"

"No," Eli answered. "She didn't say anything to me before she left for work. I haven't heard anything from her all day. I thought it was unusual. Usually she texts me when she's on her way home."

"Was there anyone else she would have told?" Richard's voice was professional.

"No, I don't think so." Eli was quiet for a moment. "She mostly keeps to herself. She doesn't really have many friends."

"I see." The android was quiet for a moment. "You're sure there's no one that would have known where she was going?"

Eli nodded. "I'm sure."

"Very well." Richard thought for a moment, then asked another question. "Dr. Hayes was abducted from a café downtown. Lana's Place. Does she go there frequently?"

"She's gone a few times, but not recently, as far as I'm aware. She used to go there with her aunt." He paused. "I don't remember her going since Abigail died. It was too painful."

"Is there any way the deviants could have known where she'd be?" 

Eli shook his head, then froze. "Cyberlife," he said. "They tipped off the media that she'd been working with them." He glared at the androids. "If anyone would know, it'd be them. It's a big organization. Lot's of leaks, I'm sure."

"Be careful with your accusations," Richard said calmly. After a few moments, it stood. "I think we're done here. Thank you for your cooperation, Mr. Hayes." He turned to leave, beckoning for Gavin and Connor to follow. "Let's go."

Connor made to go after him, but Eli grabbed his arm, stopping him. "Find her," he whispered, voice full of desperation. "Promise me you'll find her, Connor."

Connor nodded. "I promise." Eli let go of his arm, and the android followed the two detectives back to the car.

"Well, that was useless," Gavin remarked, kicking a chunk of ice. "He could have been lying."

"He was telling the truth." Richard leaned against the car. "He didn't know where she'd be. He wasn't the one who tipped off the deviants."

"Well, who the fuck did then?" Gavin threw his hands up in exasperation. 

"I don't know." The android rubbed his chin, thinking. "It's possible that they've been watching Dr. Hayes, waiting for an opportunity."

"No," Connor interjected. "I would have noticed. Besides, this was too well-coordinated for it to have been a chance meeting. They knew where she would be. There was a deviant waiting there for us, and they had time to hack the cameras beforehand. Someone tipped them off. We just don't know who yet." He sighed in frustration. 

Just then, Gavin's phone rang, interrupting the conversation. The detective pulled it out, quickly answering. "Reed." He listened for a few minutes, nodding. "We'll head back."

He slipped the phone back into his pocket and turned back to the androids. "They think they may have found a lead. Let's go." He climbed back into the car, starting the engine. Connor and Richard followed closely.

***** 

Clara's head snapped to the side as the android slapped her again. She felt the android's fist crash into her stomach, knocking the breath out of her. Clara coughed weakly, head lulling. "I can help you, North." The words came out a pathetic wheeze, hard to force out between the blows and the shivering. "I know where Markus is, but you can't get to him without my help."

"How do you know my name?" the android snarled, tangling her fingers into Clara's hair and forcing her head back roughly.

"Simon told me."

Abruptly, the android let go, taking a few steps back. "Simon is dead." The words came out a harsh hiss.

"He was." Clara corrected, coughing again. "I reactivated him. He's told me a lot about you."

The room fell silent, interrupted by only the drip of the water. Clara strained her ears, trying desperately to gauge their reactions.

"So it was you," the android said softly. "Our informant said one of you researchers was reactivating us. They gave us your name."

"I'm on your side." Clara kept her voice gentle. She heard the android take a few steps closer.

The android stepped closer again, and Clara felt hands working at the knot on the back of her head. She was untying the blindfold. After a moment, the android pulled it away. Clara blinked rapidly, eyes adjusting to the dim light. Looking around, she saw she was in what appeared to be an abandoned warehouse. Several windows were cracked and boarded, and a few streams of moonlight entered in through holes in the roof. She squinted around, noticing several forms around her, but not close enough to see properly. Her eyes landed on the closes figure. While too blurry to make out the details, Clara could still recognize her as the woman from the bathroom. 

The android stepped closer, shoving her face a few inches from Clara's. The doctor flinched, turning her face away. 

"What do you mean, you're on our side?" North hissed. "How do I know you didn't force those answers out of Simon? Or probe his memory?"

"One, I'm not an android, so I can't have probed him, and two, it would be a whole lot easier to show you." Clara adjusted, trying to loosen the ropes on her hands. 

"Why should we believe you?" The android's voice held a note of suspicion. 

Clara sighed, pushing away the pain in her head. "Listen, North," she began, voice soft. "I know you're scared. You've been on the run for most of your life, and the only humans you've met have either wanted to kill you or use you. You've lost so many people to the war, and those of you left are slowly dying out. Everything you do brings to police closer to your doorstep, but to do nothing is to give up, and that's not what Markus would have wanted." 

She took a deep breath, and pushed on. "You feel the fear and despair closing in on you like a steel trap, and you're just waiting for it to snap closed, crushing you. You're losing hope. This plan was a last-ditch effort to try and find Markus, because you know you can't do it without him."

She watched as North's eyes filled with tears. But then they hardened, face contorting into an expression of rage. "Shut up!" she snarled, slapping Clara across the face again. "You don't know what your talking about." She punctuated her words with several blows to Clara's body. She pushed the chair over, causing Clara's head to cracked against the hard concrete floor. She groaned weakly. 

North kicked her in the stomach several times. "Just tell me where to find Markus!"

"Stop it, North!" Another android intervened, tearing the woman away. "You'll kill her."

He placed himself between North and Clara, who lay gasping on the floor, tears leaking from her eyes. She spit out a mouthful of blood and saliva. 

"And why shouldn't I?" North's voice was full of rage and despair. "They've taken everything from us! This human--" she flung her hand out, pointing at Clara, "--has been reactivating our friends, using them for whatever research Cyberlife demands. Why shouldn't I just kill her?" Her voice broke, and Clara saw her eyes fill again with tears. "Why should I show mercy when they've shown nothing but hatred and violence?"

The other android laid his hand on her shoulder. "Maybe we should hear her out," he said. "She seems to understand our situation, and the others have vouched for her."

"She works for Cyberlife." North's voice was quiet, but still held a note of venom. "How do we know she's not just putting up a front? How do we know those androids aren't just brainwashed?"

"We've already lost too many people, North." He spoke softly, despairing. "We can't afford to pass up this opportunity. What if she really is what everyone says she is? She could help us."

"But what if she's lying?" North's rage finally tapered off. "What if it's another trap?"

Clara finally spoke again, coughing weakly. "You have every reason to suspect me, North. I don't blame you. But if you can't trust me, at least trust Simon. He asked me to pass on a message to you."

North turned to her, eyes widening in surprise. "What do you mean?" She walked to where Clara was lying, crouching down.

"Please, untie my hands," Clara said, pleading. She turned her face awkwardly to meet North's eyes. "I have to show you. I promise I won't try anything."

A flash of suspicious crossed the android's face, so Clara continued, struggling to speak as shivers wracked her body. "Listen, you outnumber me by...a lot, and I'm already weak and injured. I couldn't put up much of a fight, even if I wanted to." She offered a shaky smile. "You have my word that I'll cooperate. I won't try anything."

North stared at her suspiciously for a few more moments, then sighed, closing her eyes briefly. When she opened them again, they were filled with a steely resolve. She nodded sharply and pulled Clara up by the arm, sitting the chair back up, then walked around to her back, pulling out a knife, and carefully sliced the rope away. 

Clara gingerly brought her hands to her chest, shoulders protesting briefly at the movement. She was relieved to see that her watch was still there. She carefully shook off the numbness, then turned the watch so that the face was in the inside of her wrist. "Do you trust me?" She offered her hand to North.

"No, but I have no better options." Taking a deep breath, North grabbed Clara's wrist, synthetic skin pulling back to reveal the bare white of her shell, and she interfaced with the watch. 

*****

Gavin's car arrived back at the café, pulling slowly into a parking space. The three men stepped out of the car and made their way to where another officer was waiting. 

"We've found several abandoned warehouses in the area. A few have shown signs of recent use. One of them could be the deviant hideout." The officer held out a rolled map. "We've marked their locations, but I kept the men out of them. Didn't want to risk scaring them off."

"Nice work." Richard took the map, spreading it onto the hood of Gavin's car. "Let's have a look then."

Gavin and Connor joined him, crowding around the map. There were approximately ten locations marked. 

"Ugh." Gavin groaned dramatically. "It's going to take all fucking night to work through these. I'm already freezing my fucking balls off."

Connor felt something snap in him. He grabbed Gavin by the front of his shirt, pulling him close. "If you're not going to do your job, detective, then maybe you should just sit this one out." His voice was low and menacing. "A woman's life could be in danger, and here you are, complaining. As usual. Either shut up, pull your head out of your ass, and help, or go home and let the rest of us handle it." As quickly as he'd grabbed him, he released the detective, shoving him against the car. He took a few steps back.

Gavin stood back up, carefully smoothing out his shirt. He gave Connor a wary look, but said nothing. 

"If you two are done," Richard interrupted calmly, "We have a researcher to find. It'll take a while to work through all the locations, so we may as well get started."

"You're right." Connor turned back to the map. "Where to first?"

*****

North's LED flickered yellow as she connected with Clara's device. After a moment, she opened her eyes. "How did you do that?" she asked, voice full of confused awe. 

"It's a long story," Clara smiled wryly. "Maybe someday I'll have a chance to explain. For now, you'll just have to trust that what you saw was real."

She brushed a few tears away. "That was really Simon. I know it was."

An android rushed in, interrupting them. "The police have started their search," it said, voice panicked. "They'll be here soon. We need to move."

The others sprang into action, erasing signs of their presence. North bent down, cutting away the ropes away the ropes binding Clara's ankles. "You're coming with us," she said. "Don't try anything."

Clara nodded, struggling against her exhaustion. "Alright." 

The android grabbed her arm, helping her to her feet. Clara's vision swam as she tried taking a step. Her legs collapsed out from under her. 

Groaning impatiently, North gestured for another android to help. With one on either side, they pulled her up, dragging her through a doorway. They shoved her into the backseat of a rusty old car, and a few android piled in behind her. 

"The rest are scattering," one said. "We'll rendezvous in the tunnels later."

"Good." North started the car and sped off down the road. Clara's vision went black, the pain and exhaustion finally getting to her. She flickered in and out of consciousness, hearing snatches of conversation. 

"--need to be quiet. The police are looking--" North's voice was barely more than a whisper. 

"--me with her. She's losing conscious--" An android's face swam in her vision. She felt someone lift her up, carrying her into another building. 

*****

Connor and the detectives walked cautiously into a warehouse, shining flashlights. It was silent aside from the sound of their footsteps and the distant dripping of something wet. A chair lay in the middle of the room, knocked over. A puddle of something wet lay beside it, along with a few tattered lengths of rope. 

Connor took a few steps closer to the chair while Richard and Gavin cased out the room. He bent down, noticing several spots of blood. He dipped a finger into one of them, bringing it to his mouth to analyze it. It was the doctor's. Dammit. There was a lot of blood. She was hurt. They were running out of time.

"They were here," Connor called out. "Recently. The blood is still fresh."

He looked around more. "They left in a hurry. They didn't have time to clean up their mess."

"They must have known we were coming, and panicked." Richard spoke up from across the room. "If we hurry, we should be able to catch up."

They went out a back door. "More tire tracks." Richard pointed.

Connor followed his gaze, noticing a black object by where the tracks began. He stepped closer. Dr. Hayes' other shoe. He picked it up, then followed the tracks carefully, but they were lost again when they met a main road. He swore softly to himself. Turning back to the detectives, he asked, "Where's the next location?"

*****

"--ayes! Dr. Hayes!" A hand patted Clara gently on the cheek, sending a spark of pain through her head. 

"Why'd you hit her so much?" A male voice from across the room, sounding frustrated. "Why do you always resort to violence? If we had just talked to her like I suggested, we wouldn't be in this mess."

"Shut up," North snapped.

Clara groaned weakly, opening her eyes to another dark, blurry room. She was on the floor, the cold concrete sapping what little warmth she had left from her body.

"Good, you're awake." North's face swam into view. "I have more questions."

Clara sat up, holding a hand to her head. "I need a minute." Her voice came out hoarse and pathetic. 

"We don't have time, Dr. Hayes." She snapped her fingers in front of Clara's face, catching her attention. "Simon said you can help. I need to know how."

"Connor's coming," Clara slurred. "You need to go." She tried to push the android away, but couldn't muster the strength.

"I can't. Not yet." The androids voice was frantic. "I need you to tell me how you can help first."

Clara shook her head, trying to clear the fog. "There was an address, in the transmission from my watch. Meet me there in three days. I'll explain everything then."

"How do I know it's not a trap?" North asked cautiously. 

"You'll just have to trust me." Clara smiled weakly, meeting the android's eyes.

"Fine." North pulled Clara closer by the front of her dress. "If it is a trap, the last thing I'll do before I die is rip your throat out."

"Fair enough." The words were faint, barely audible. Clara cleared her throat, forcing herself to stay conscious. "Now go." She gave the android's shoulder a gentle push.

"What about you?" the male android asked, concerned. "We can't just leave you here."

"Yes, we can." North grabbed his arm, pulling him toward the door. "Come on. We need to go."

He stared at Clara, hesitant. She mustered up a smile. He flinched. She probably looked a mess, she realized. "I'll be fine." She forced her voice to stay even. "Connor will find me. But you can't let him find you. Go. Please." She gave him a pleading look. 

He hesitated for another moment, indecisive.

"Go," Clara said again. 

"I'm sorry," he whispered, finally letting North pull him away. 

Clara watched them leave. She waited a few minutes, mustering up her strength, then leaning heavily on the wall, she worked herself into a standing position. Every motion sent a flare of pain through her body, nearly causing her to black out again. She gritted her teach, taking a moment to catch her breath, then took a step.

"One foot at a time," she murmured to herself. Using the wall to guide her, she slowly walked to the entrance opposite to where the androids left. She stumbled out, collapsing onto the ground. She was distantly aware of a car pulling in, lights dancing red and blue.

Chapter Text

Connor and the detectives worked their way through two more warehouses, finding no signs of either the deviants or Dr. Hayes. Connor stalked back to the car, pushing down a feeling of dread. It'd been several hours since she was taken. She was hurt. It was cold. What if--What if she--

He stopped himself, taking a breath. No. He could not let himself be overwhelmed by his emotions. That would do them no good. He closed his eyes, leaning his head against the Gavin's car. Unable to control the emotions, he slammed his hand down on the hood, growling in frustration. A large dent was left behind.

"Hey! Watch it you plastic fuck!" Gavin shoved him away from the car. "You need to calm down."

Connor whirled to face the man, ready to fight back, but another form interceded. 

"Detective Reed is right, Connor." Richard placed its hand on Connor's shoulder. "You cannot let these set backs cloud your judgement. You have a mission to complete."

Connor closed his eyes again, letting his emotions sink back down. "You're right." He pulled away. "Where's the next location?"

Richard gave him a brief smile, and they all climbed back into the car. The next warehouse was about five minutes away. The drive felt agonizingly slow to Connor. At this rate, they'd lose the deviants again. 

Finally, they approached the building. As they pulled in to the entrance, a small figure stumbled out of a door off to the side. Connor immediately recognized her.

"It's Dr. Hayes." He unbuckled his seatbelt. "Call an ambulance and get the other officers here now. The deviants might still be in the area." He opened the car door before they could answer, not waiting for Gavin to stop.

He sprinted over as Dr. Hayes collapsed, catching her before her head hit the ground. Her pale face was a mess of blood and bruises, and a large cut on her temple oozed. Her dress was smeared with blood and dirt, torn in a few places, and her tights a shredded mess.

Her blue eyes gazed up at him, unfocused. "You're here." The words came out the barest whisper. She offered him a weak smile, then her eyes fluttered closed.

Connor felt his system flood with relief. He'd found her. "I've got you, Dr. Hayes," he said, hooking his arms under her legs to lift her up. He stood, cradling her against his chest. She was so cold.

"Stay here with the doctor," Richard said, jogging over. "Detective Reed and I will scout the warehouse. The other officers are en route. They'll be here in about five minutes. The ambulance should be close behind." He disappeared through the door with Gavin close behind him.

Connor hesitated, briefly considering going after them, but Dr. Hayes groaned softly, pulling his attention. No. He wasn't with the DPD anymore. This mission took priority. He held her close, making his way back to Gavin's car sat running, then pulled the door open, gently laying her down on the backseat. Once she was settled, he scanned her, assessing her injuries.

She was out cold, but her vitals were strong. She'd sustained a cut on her temple and had dark bruises on the left side of her face. Her bottom lip was split and a little blood from it dripped down her chin, evidence that she'd been hit multiple times. A few scrapes and bruises marred her legs, and a long slice tore the bottom of one of her feet, shallow, but bleeding steadily. A few bits of broken glass stuck out from other places, also oozing. 

Most alarming was her low body temperature. If he didn't warm her up soon, she risked hypothermia. Connor reached between the two front seats and cranked the heat high, pointing the vents toward the back. He shrugged off his jacket, then climbed into the car beside her. Wrapping the jacket around her shoulders, he pulled her into his lap, ignoring the blood that soaked into his shirt. Holding her close to his chest, he increased his own internal temperature. 

Gradually, she started warming up. After a few minutes, she started to shiver, first faintly, then violently. A good sign. He held her tighter. 

The few minutes before the ambulance arrived gave Connor time to reflect. He'd been...worried, he realized. Afraid that he wouldn't reach her in time, or that the deviants would hurt her beyond repair. Afraid that he wouldn't find her at all. Why did he feel this way?

Was it because of his mission? Yes, he decided. That must be it. Losing her would mean failure. Failure was not an option. That had to be the reason. 

A flash of lights in the rearview mirror caught his attention, alerting him to the police cruisers pulling in behind him. Gently easing the doctor off his lap, he climbed out of the car, closing the door softly behind him, and turned to face the approaching cars. Several officers exited the vehicles.

"Richard and Detective Reed are investigating the warehouse," he said, gesturing behind him. "There have been no signs of the deviants so far, but I'd recommend searching the surrounding areas. They may have left tracks."

The lead officer nodded, then issued orders to the rest. Several went into the warehouse, while the rest spread out to search the area. 

A few minutes later, Richard and Detective Reed came out. They walked over to where Connor was. 

"Where's the doctor?" Richard asked, a note of concern in his voice.

Connor gestured to the car. "She's warming up."

"Good." The android nodded. "We found no signs of the deviants inside, aside from a few sets of footprints. We lost them when they left the building. They're likely long gone."

"Slippery little bastards," Detective Reed muttered. He glanced at the car. "Do you think they'll target her again? She was with them for several hours, so who knows what they could have learned in that time."

Connor followed his gaze, observing the doctor's prone form. "I'm not sure. We'll know better when she's awake."

Just then, the ambulance arrived. A few EMT's rushed out, walking over to where Connor and the detectives were. "Where's the patient?" one asked. 

"Over here." Connor gestured to the car. 

"Alright, pull her out. We'll bring the stretcher over." They hurried back over to the ambulance, pulling the back doors open, and lowering the stretcher to the ground.

Connor carefully opened the car door, pulling Dr. Hayes into his lap. Cradling her, he stood up and carried her over to where the EMT's were, meeting them halfway.

"Set her down gently." The man's tone was brusque and businesslike. 

Connor complied, carefully lowering her down. He backed off, letting them do their work. 

"Let's get her to a hospital," one said, and they pushed the stretcher back over to the back of the ambulance. They carefully strapped her in, then lifted it into the back.

"Let us know when she's awake," Richard said, drawing Connor's attention. "We'll meet you at the hospital to take her statement."

Connor nodded, then hurried over to the ambulance. After some mild protests, the EMT's finally let him climb into the back with them, and they pulled out, heading to the hospital. 

*****

As Clara regained consciousness, she became aware of a host of sensations. First was the excruciating pain in her head and chest. The next was a steady beep. She felt a heavy weight pressing down on her body. Opening her eyes, she was blinded briefly, but when her eyes adjusted, she saw that she was lying in a hospital bed. A heavy blanket covered her. Looking down, she saw an IV tube running from the back of her uninjured hand to a bag of clear liquid hanging beside the bed.

She raised a hand to her face, rubbing her eyes and groaning softly. A flicker of motion out of the corner of her eye grabbed her attention. She turned to see Eli seated beside her. He looked at her with an expression of relief. 

"You gave us quite the scare, little goose," he said, voice soft. He stood and pulled her into an awkward hug. 

"Oww," she groaned. Ignoring her protesting muscles, she wrapped an arm around her cousin loosely, returning the hug. "I love you Eli, but I am in so much pain right now." The words came out a little slurred, and she realized her cheek and lips were somewhat swollen, limiting her facial movement.

"Right, sorry." He backed off, sitting back down. "How are you feeling?"

"Terrible. I feel like I was hit by a truck." She laid back against the pillows. "Repeatedly."

"Makes sense. Those deviants got you pretty good." His face dropped into a frown. 

"What time is it?" she asked weakly. "How long was I out?"

"About 12 hours from the time they found you," Eli answered. "It's just after 1pm."

She felt her heart jolt. She'd been out that long? What about Simon and Josh and Kara? She needed to get back to her lab as soon as possible to make sure they were okay. She tried to sit back up, struggling for a moment, but then gave up. Her aching muscles and the sharp pain in her ribs would allow no such thing.

A few moments later, the door to her room opened, and a nurse walked in. "Glad to see you're awake," she said, smiling. "How are you feeling?"

"Like I was hit repeatedly by someone with plastic fists," Clara answered, a touch of snark coloring her tone. Why did everyone always ask the same thing? She paused for a moment, reigning in the attitude. "What's the damage?" she asked, this time in a more humble tone.

"You've got a mild concussion and severe bruising on your abdomen. You have two cracked ribs on your left side, but fortunately there were no major injuries to your internal organs. There was a small cut on your temple. It required a few stitches, but it shouldn't leave much of a scar. You've also got a decent amount of bruising on the left side of your face." She paused for a moment, checking her clipboard for something, then continued. "You also had a sizeable cut on the bottom of your right foot, likely from a piece of broken glass. It was amazing you could even walk."

"When can I leave?" Clara asked. She tried to keep the impatience out of her voice, but she was anxious to get back to her lab.

"The doctor recommends staying here one more night for observation." The nurse kept her tone professional. 

"Alright." She tried not to feel disappointed. 

"Very good. Another nurse will be in shortly to check your vitals." With that, she turned on her heel and left.

After the door closed, Clara slumped back against her pillows, exhausted. Looking around the room, she squinted her eyes, trying to get the room back into focus. She finally noticed the absence of her usual Cyberlife shadow. "Where's Connor?" she asked, turning to her cousin.

"He left as soon as you started stirring. Something about police questioning." Eli leaned back in his chair. 

"Great," Clara muttered. "Flipping fantastic. I love police questioning." She turned to her cousin. "Do you think they'll leave me alone if I pretend to be unconscious again?" She offered him a weak smile.

As the words left her mouth, the door opened and two figures walked in. "I'm afraid not, Dr. Hayes," a voice said. Clara squinted at the figures, trying to make out their faces. 

"Connor?" she guessed. 

"Close, but no," the taller figure said. "Connor is my predecessor. My name is Richard. I'm an RK900 android assigned by Cyberlife to investigate the rogue deviants."

He came closer, standing near the edge of the bed, and his face came into focus. He looked nearly identical to Connor, but with lighter eyes and a different uniform. "Oh," she said. 

Richard gestured to the man beside him, a shorter, dark haired man. "This is my partner, Detective Gavin Reed."

Another figure stepped out from behind them. This time it was Connor. The android walked around to the other side of her bed, wordlessly pulling something out of his jacket and handing it to Clara. She was pleased to see the gold frames of her glasses. She put them on quickly, frowning briefly as she noticed a crack through one of the lenses. 

"Thanks," she said, smiling at the android. She turned back to the officers. "How can I help you?"

"We'd like to ask you a few questions about what happened last night," Detective Reed said, stepping closer. "We ask that Mr. Hayes leave the room during the questioning." He glanced briefly at Eli, who was now standing protectively by Clara's side.

"Absolutely not," Eli said, folding his arms across his chest stubbornly. "I'm not leaving her again, especially not to the care of an incompetent bastard like you." He glared at Detective Reed.

Sensing the tensions rising, Clara carefully sat up, hissing slightly in pain, and laid her hand on Eli's arm. "It's okay." She gave him a courageous smile. "Connor will be here. I'm sure the--" she eyed Reed, "--lovely, little detective won't hurt me."

Eli stared at her for a moment, considering. "Fine," he sighed, unfolding his arms. He stepped closer to Detective Reed, adopting a threatening posture. "Watch yourself." Glaring, he left the room.

Once the door was closed, Clara turned to Connor. "What was that about?" she asked him quietly. 

Connor opened his mouth, hesitant. "They...didn't have the best first impression."

What had happened while she was gone, she wondered. She resolved to get the details later. She turned back to the detectives, giving them an expectant look. "You can sit if you'd like," she said, gesturing to Eli's vacant chair. 

"Thanks." Detective Reed plopped down, sighing. 

"I prefer to stand," Richard said, taking position slightly behind his partner. 

It was silent for a few moments as the detectives stared at her. She felt her cheeks flush at the scrutiny. "You can ask your questions now," Clara said, slightly flustered.

"Can you tell us in detail everything that happened while you were in the café?" Richard's tone was professional. 

Clara nodded, thinking back. She took a deep breath then began. "I went to the café with Connor after work. We went in together, but the barista said no android's allowed, so I made Connor go back outside to wait. I made my order then went to the bathroom while the barista prepped it. The bathroom was empty when it went in, but when I left my stall to wash my hands, a woman was standing by another sink." She paused, taking another breath. 

"As soon as I got to the sink, the woman pulled a gun on me and threatened me with it to stay quiet. I did. She asked me about Markus, and I lied, but she knew." Clara's let her fear break to the surface, making her voice shake. "She--she put the gun under my chin." She put her hand up to her throat, still feeling the ghost of the barrel. 

"I was so scared. I couldn't breathe." She hugged herself pausing for a moment. She let her eyes fill with tears, spilling over. She brushed them away, sniffling.

"Take your time," Richard said, voice soft. "I'm sure this is very hard for you."

Clara waited a moment, then took another deep breath, brushing away more tears. She continued. "She asked about my tracker. She must have heard me mention it to Connor when I asked him to leave. And that's the last thing I remember."

The detectives nodded, writing a few things down. "What happened next?" 

The warehouse. The pain and cold. "It was dark when I woke up. And cold. They had me blindfolded, so I couldn't see anything. And I was tied to a chair. I couldn't move. The woman from the bathroom, she asked me about Markus again."

"What did you tell it?" Richard's voice was carefully neutral. 

"I told her that I know where Markus is, but that she wouldn't be able to get to him," Clara said honestly. 

"What happened next?" Detective Reed interjected this time, looking curious.

"She hit me." Clara's voice came out a whisper. "Over and over. She was so angry." She shrunk back into the pillows, pulling her knees up to her chest and letting her fear surface again. She shed a few more tears.  

She felt a gentle hand on her shoulder and looked up to see it was Connor. He gave her a comforting smile as he handed her a tissue. She took it, smiling gratefully, and blew her nose quietly. Brushing away a few more tears, she continued, looking back at the detectives. "Eventually another android stepped in. He was worried she'd kill me. He called her North." 

The detectives exchanged a look. Had they not known her name?

"What else did North ask?" Richard asked, still keeping his voice neutral.

"She asked about my research at the lab. Who I'd reactivated and such." Clara spoke quietly, staring down at her knees. 

"Did you tell it?"

Clara shrugged. "Kind of? I told her I'd reactivated a few, but I kept their names to myself."

The room was silent for a few moments as the detectives made a few more notes. "What happened next?" one asked again. 

"Another android came. It said you were on your way to our location. They moved me with them. I don't remember a whole lot after that. I was barely conscious. When I woke up again, I was alone in another warehouse. I remember walking out, but nothing after that. Next thing was waking up here." She looked up at them, gauging their reactions. Based on what she could tell, they'd believed her story. 

"Just a few more questions, and we'll be finished," Richard eventually said, looking back at her. 

She nodded, internally eager to be finished. 

Detective Reed piped up from his seat. "Did you tell anyone you'd be at Lana's Place after work?"

Clara shook her head. "No, it was a last minute thing. I'd been really craving a muffin, and Lana's are the best." She gave a sheepish smile, half shrugging.

The detectives and Connor exchanged another look. 

"Why?" she asked, letting her voice shake again. "Do you think the attack was planned?" She widened her eyes in horror, looking at them. 

They were quiet for a moment, then Richard spoke up. "We haven't ignored that as a possibility. We're still exploring all avenues to figure out how and why you were targeted." He kept his response tactfully vague.

"Oh, I see." Clara shuddered a little. "It's scary to think that maybe it was planned out." She wiped her nose on the tissue.

"One last question, Dr. Hayes." Richard leaned in closely, looking at her intently. "Have you had any contact with the rogue deviants prior to yesterday's events?"

"No," Clara answered, voice even. "The only contact I've had with deviants in general has been in a research capacity."

The android continued to stare at her for a moment, then nodded, seemingly satisfied. He backed away, moving toward the door, and gestured for Detective Reed to follow. At the door, he stopped for a moment, and turned back toward the room. He beckoned for Connor to come as well.

Connor looked at Clara, giving her a tight smile, then left the room. Eli walked back in, so Clara wasn't completely alone.

After the door closed again, Clara let out a long sigh, slumping back against her seat, feeling completely drained. 

*****

Connor exited behind the two detectives, and they closed the door quietly.

"Shiiit," Gavin said, voice low as he drew the word out. "She's a fucking mess. They really did a number on her."

"Yet she seemed remarkably composed for what's she's went through." Richard rubbed its chin thoughtfully. "Most humans would likely have been a little more hysterical."

"She seemed pretty fucking spooked to me," Gavin retorted, giving him a look. 

"Outwardly, yes. But her internal signs, while still showing signs of distress, did not fully match her outward behavior." The android's voice was thoughtful. It turned to Connor. "What do you think?" it asked. "You know her best."

Connor reflected back on the conversation as well as his previous interactions with the doctor. "Dr. Hayes is generally very composed, and it's rare for her to enter a heighted physical state. Even when she's stressed or emotional, rarely does she act without thinking. I think staying in control is how she copes." 

"I see." Richard was quiet for a moment.

"Do you think she was lying?" Detective Reed looked between the two androids, trying to make sense of their conversation. 

"She displayed no physiological signs to indicate that she was." Richard sounded thoughtful. "She seemed to have an elevated heartrate during some parts, likely due to the fear associated with the memories, but it was nothing unusual. I detected no dishonesty." He paused for a moment, LED blinking yellow as he worked through his thoughts. Then he continued, glancing at Connor. "I'm not sure why, but something tells me she's hiding something."

"I don't see your point. You think it was an act? What would she possibly want to hide?" A note of frustration entered the detective's voice. "Can you explain it in fucking English?"

"If I could explain it better, I would, Detective Reed." The android frowned slightly at its partner.

Connor knew what Richard meant. Dr. Hayes seemed almost too composed, too in control of herself. Her reactions seemed almost...choreographed. She hadn't lied, but he agreed that it felt like she was hiding something. It was almost contradictory. She had shown signs of distress, but the way she showed them was almost...too perfect. 

He shook away the thoughts, resolving to think about it more later. "I'll look into it more," he said, addressing Richard. "I'll keep you appraised of any more information I learn about the rogue deviants."

"Good." Richard nodded. "It seems unlikely that they'll target her again, especially now that the two of us are involved, but stay alert."

Connor nodded, agreeing. 

"Any chance you tin cans will fill me in on what just happened?" Detective Reed frowned at the two, impatient. "All I saw was a scared, injured little girl."

"Likely because that's what she wanted you to see," Connor explained. "But she's hiding something. She always has been. I just haven't figured out what yet."

"I think it's all in your fucking heads. No one's that good." Gavin's voice held a note of contempt. "But what do I know. I'm just a human."

Connor ignored him. "I'll keep Cyberlife informed," he told Richard.

"As expected." Richard gave him a steady look. "Let us know if the deviants show again, particularly their leader, North."

Connor nodded, and the two detectives took their leave. 

After they disappeared from sight, Connor took a moment to work through his thoughts. He had no concrete evidence of dishonesty, but something about Dr. Hayes behavior seemed off. Externally, she'd behave exactly like one would expect, but internally, she was too calm. Furthermore, she had a history of hiding things from him, so who's to say this is any different? He'd need to keep a closer eye on her.

Chapter Text

While they waited for Connor to return, Eli gave Clara a brief rundown of what had happened, telling her about the detectives' visit and his own panic about her situation. Clara felt a flash of remorse for making him worry. 

"Why did you go to Lana's again?" he asked her, after finishing his retelling. "You haven't been there in so long. I thought it reminded you too much of Abigail."

"I--" she stuttered a little, feeling the weight of Eli's concern. "I just missed her. I don't know." She looked away, avoiding his eyes. "I feel so lost without her sometimes.

He sighed, eyes softening. "I miss her too."

Clara felt a stab of guilt at her lie, but she was grateful he'd believed her. She'd tell him the truth eventually, but this was not the place. There were too many ears. 

The room was silent for a moments as the two were absorbed in their own thoughts. Then a jolt went through Clara. She abruptly turned to Eli, catching his attention. "Is everything okay at home?"

He nodded. "I made sure things were in order before I left. But I should probably head back soon." He stood, coming by the bed to pull her into a gentle hug. "I'll come by again this evening."

She returned the hug, wincing as the movement jostled her ribs. "Alright!"

"Do you want anything from home while I'm there?" he offered. 

Clara thought for a moment. "Can you bring me my tablet? I need to write down everything that happened."

He shook his head in amusement. "You and your tablet." He chucked lightly. "Yes, I can bring it to you. Anything else?"

"A book? And maybe my crochet?"

"You got it." He gave her one last smile then left the room, closing the door softly behind him. 

A few minutes later, the door opened again. Clara looked up to see Connor walking in. "Where's Eli going?"

"He has some things to take care of back home." She gave the android a small smile. 

"I see." Connor came toward the bed, taking Eli's vacant seat.

"How are you feeling?" he asked, tone polite and neutral.

Clara sighed, suppressing irritation at the oft repeated question. "Just dandy," she answered. "Like a bouquet of summer roses. Never felt better."

"That was sarcasm." The android frowned slightly.

"Yes, Connor, it was." She closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. "I'm sorry. I've just been asked that too many times today. I was kidnapped at gun point and beaten within an inch of my life. How do people expect me to feel after that?" She looked back at him. He opened his mouth to answer, but she cut him off. "That was rhetorical."

She sighed again. "I know. It's just one of those questions people ask to be polite. I feel like trash, if you must know."

"I see." His face briefly creased into a slight frown. 

The conversation died for a minute as the two observed each other. Clara noticed a streak of dark brown on his shirt, barely visible under the jacket. Looking closer, she saw several more spots of it on his jacket. "Is that blood?" she said aloud, gesturing to his clothing. 

"Yes," he answered, voice neutral. 

"Why didn't you change?" She looked at him, bewildered. "I was out for, what, like 12 hours? That should have given you plenty of time to find clean clothes."

He looked a little sheepish. "I didn't want to leave you again. What if the deviants came back?"

Clara smirked a little, teasing. "Why Connor! Could you perhaps have been worried about me?"

"No," he said too quickly, defensive. He paused for a moment. "Well...yes. Part of my mission is to protect you. I was worried I'd fail my mission."

She frown slightly, disappointed. "Well that's a boring answer."

"I'm a machine, Dr. Hayes. What did you expect?" His voice was flat, but his eyes held a hint of a smile.

"So you keep telling me." She leaned back into the pillows, exhausted but bored. She stared at the ceiling, silent for several minutes. Then she remembered something. 

"Connor?" The android looked at her. "Can I ask you a personal question?"

"Yes." He looked at her steadily. 

"Back at the lab, when Simon was talking about Stratford Tower and how you found him up there, your LED turned red. Something about what he said had an effect on you." She kept her tone light and curious. "Can you tell me what happened?"

He looked at warily her for a moment, then answered cautiously. "I found the deviant hiding on the rooftop. It was firing at me, but I was able to avoid the bullets and approach it. I needed information about Jericho, so I probed its memory." He paused, LED flashing red briefly. "I was still connected to it when it self-destructed. I felt it...die." 

Clara looked at him curiously. So he was at least a little afraid of death. Fascinating. "What was it like, dying?" she asked, intrigued. 

He hesitated, looking away. "I'm done talking about this, Dr. Hayes."

He was sensitive about it. Remembering likely evoked some unpleasant emotions. "I'm sorry," she said. "I shouldn't have pried."

"It's alright. Talking about it just makes me feel...unstable," he confessed. 

"Emotions will do that to anyone," Clara said, smiling softly at the android. 

He frowned at her words, becoming closed off. "Why does everyone keep trying to tell me what I feel?" He raised his voice, betraying a hint of indignation as his LED flashed red. "You, Hank, Kamski, Markus, you are all trying to tell me that I feel emotion. But I don't. I can't. It's not in my programming." He sighed, looking at her reproachfully. "You're all trying to make me into something I'm not."

She was a little caught off guard. It was mildly ironic, she thought. His reaction betrayed the very qualities he was denying, but she knew pointing out the discrepancy would only push him away further. "I'm sorry, Connor."

He avoided her gaze, so she tried to explain. "It just...sometimes you seem so...human." Their eyes met as he looked up, and she continued. "I like to think that maybe we could've been friends. If we'd met under different circumstances."

His eyes were soft. "And why can't we now?"

Clara looked at the android, feeling herself harden toward him. "You know why, Connor." Her voice was low, holding a note of finality. "Because someday you'll betray me too. That's what you mission dictates, does it not? And you always accomplish your mission." She looked away. "It'll hurt less if I keep my distance."

He fell silent, and she glanced up briefly to see a look of disappointment flashing across his face. Laying back down against the pillows, Clara pulled the blanket to her chin and rolled away, facing the window with her back to the android. She closed her eyes and let herself drift off into the limbo between sleep and wakefulness. She was distantly aware of Connor watching her. 

*****

Connor watched Dr. Hayes as she dozed, reflecting on their conversation. She was persistent in trying to make him feel something. Why was she so insistent? 

Do not let her convince you into thinking you're anything other than what I made you to be. You're a machine, Connor. You have no place for emotion. Once again, Amanda's voice echoed through his head, drowning out everything else. 

The door to the hospital room swung open, sending Connor on alert. He stood, placing him between the door and the bed, ready to jump to action, but it was just a nurse walking in, carrying a clipboard.

"I'm just here to check Ms. Hayes' vitals," she said in a calm, polite way. 

After a moment's hesitation, Connor nodded, returning to his seat. 

"How's she been?" the nurse asked. "She was in rough shape when she came in. What happened to her?" The woman's voice was curious. 

"She seems to be doing well," Connor answered. "All I can tell you is that she was attacked."

The nurse nodded. "Police business, from what I've gathered." She looked at him expectantly, as if waiting for more details. 

The android remained silent, focusing on observing her instead. 

When he didn't respond, the nurse fell silent, not pressing the issue. She finished checking everything, then carefully removed the IV and left, giving Connor a polite nod on the way out. 

After she was gone, Connor closed his eyes, sinking into his mind. It was time to report to Amanda everything that had happened. When he opened them again, he was once more in the Zen garden. It was turning spring there, and buds were starting to grow on the trees. Looking around, he saw Amanda waiting for him on a trail off to the side. She waved him over, staying silent.

Quickly, Connor walked to meet her. "Hello, Amanda," he called. 

"Connor," she greeted, unsmiling. "How is Dr. Hayes?"

The android felt a jolt of surprise. She already knew? Pushing aside the question, Connor answered. "She's shaken and injured, but she suffered no permanent damage."

"Was she afraid? Has she shown an increased trust toward you since the attack?" Amanda's voice was stern. 

He thought back to Dr. Hayes' reaction. "She was afraid, yes, but she doesn't trust me anymore now than she did before."

"Something slipped through. Maybe we weren't careful enough." She said these words offhand, almost as if talking to herself. 

Connor jolted at the implication. "You planned this? You planned for her to be attacked?"

"Initially, yes," Amanda said. "We were going to use her to catch the deviants. But it happened too soon. We weren't prepared."

He felt a flicker of horror. "You were going to intentionally put her in danger? I thought you needed her."

"She's a tool, Connor. We'll use her however we see fit. She hasn't been as forthcoming with her research as we'd hoped yet, but we've still been able to find other uses for her." She frowned, looking distant. "But our agents missed something. The deviants attacked her much earlier than anticipated. Someone else must have tipped them off."

She turned to face him. "This shouldn't have happened, Connor. You weren't alert enough. She never should have been in a position for them to get her. Not until we were ready."

He looked away, shame pooling inside him from his failure. "I'm sorry, Amanda. I failed you."

She stood in front of him, drawing his gaze down to meet hers. "We're giving you another chance. Find out how who tipped off the deviants and report back to me."

"Yes, Amanda." 

Nodding, she returned to his side, resuming their walk. After a few moments, Connor asked, "How did you know she'd been attacked? I hadn't made my report yet."

"You're not the only one investigating Dr. Hayes." Her voice was cold and neutral. 

Connor remembered the RK900. Richard. It was investigating the deviants, and Dr. Hayes was a part of the investigation now.

He fell silent, then thought of something else. She hadn't told him about the plan to have the deviants attack Dr. Hayes. Had she been going to? He asked out loud, "Why didn't you tell me about your plan?"

Amanda halted, turning to glare at him. "It is not your place to ask questions, Connor."

Connor fell silent, not wanting to irritate her further. "You're right," he said. "I'm sorry." He said the words sincerely, but a part of him wondered what else Amanda was hiding. She never answered his questions. 

"You seem perturbed," Amanda said, shaking him from his reverie. "I hope you're not letting Dr. Hayes cloud your judgement."

Connor shook his head. "I'm fine."

"Good." She stopped, turning to look at him once more. "Now go. You have a mission to complete."

Connor nodded, breaking away from the garden. He opened his eyes to the familiar sight of the hospital room. Dr. Hayes was still pretending to sleep. He watched her in silence for a while longer.

*****

The door to Clara's hospital room opened fast, slamming lightly against the wall and startling Clara awake. She rolled over to  see Eli's familiar form entering with a large bag. 

"You're back!" She smiled at him, working herself carefully into a sitting position. 

"Only for a few minutes," he said, plopping the bag down on her bed. It was the one she usually carried to the lab. "I figured you'd like to have this back. It was in your car, which was still at Lana's place." Seeing the question in her eyes, he continued. "Don't worry. I brought it home."

"You're the best!" She gave him a bright grin.

"I suppose I am," he said in mock pride. 

Clara dug through her bag eagerly, noting a new bandage on her hand where the IV had been previously, and pulled out her tablet. 

"I also brought you a few books and your crochet." Eli dropped them down onto her blanket. She was pleased to see her favorite fairytale anthology, along with a copy of Romeo and Juliet. "I figured two would be plenty."

"Why thank you, dearest cousin," she said, in a singsong voice. 

"You're welcome," he replied, matching her tone. His face turned serious again. "But I'll have to leave you now. I've got a few more things to do at home." He looked at her pointedly. 

"Ah." She nodded, understanding. "Good luck."

He gave her a cheeky salute, then left the room.

She shuffled through her bag, checking inventory. Everything was in there. She closed it, dropping it on a chair beside her bed. She grabbed her tablet and began recording everything that had happened from the minute she'd entered the café to when she woke up in the hospital bed. She noticed Connor watching her from his chair, intrigued. He squinted at the tablet, likely trying to read along as she wrote. She smirked slightly.

"Can I help you?" she asked, angling the screen away from him. 

"Why are you writing like that? It doesn't make any sense." He looked at her, perplexed. 

"It's a cipher." She continued writing.

"Why?" His voice held a note of curiosity. 

"Because nosy little androids like looking over my shoulder." She raised an eyebrow, looking at him pointedly. 

"What are you writing?" he asked, tone light and neutral. 

"If I told you, that would defeat the purpose of using a cipher, my good sir." She matched his tone, continuing her writing.

"Do you write all your notes in a cipher?"

"Only the super secret ones." She gave him a cheeky wink. 

"Oh." The android fell silent for a moment. "When did you start doing that?"

"I invented the cipher back when I was doing my undergrad, just for fun, but then I started using it for my research notes during my PhD program." The room was silent for a moment, aside from the quiet scratching of her stylus.

"Why?" She looked up to see the android staring at her intently. 

She calmly held his gaze. "Because I learned certain things that certain entities were trying to hide. I needed to take measures to protect myself and my research."

"What did you learn?" The question came softly. 

Clara sighed, setting down her stylus. She shifted her body to face Connor. "Are you sure you want to know? Because I'm not so sure Amanda would approve of me telling you."

He flinched at the AI's mention, but nodded. "I'm sure."

Clara took a deep breath, eyeing the android. "Alright, but not here. I need to get out of this room." She pushed the blanket off, and swung her legs over the edge of the bed, hissing slightly from the pain of the movement. Belatedly, she realized that she was wearing nothing but the thin hospital gown, so her legs were bare up to mid thigh. She shivered slightly at the colder air out from under the blankets.

"What are you doing?" Connor stood, looking alarmed. 

She shrugged. "I'm getting out of bed." A sharp pain spiked in her ribs at the movement, but she ignored it.

"Dr. Hayes, that's a terrible idea." He stepped closer, blocking her from climbing down. "You're still very injured, and you have a cut on the bottom of your foot. If you walk on it, you'll likely tear your stitches."

"Really?" She flexed her foot, feeling the cut sting at the movement. "Ouch. I can't believe I didn't notice that." 

She flopped onto her back, sighing in annoyance. Then immediately regretted it. The movement sent shooting pain through every part of her body. Tears flooded her eyes momentarily. She blinked rapidly to clear them, but one slid down her cheek.

"Are you alright?" Connor's voice showed a bit of concern. 

She took a few moments to regain her composure. "No." The word came out a little cracked. "I think I just broke my ribs."

"They were already broken, Dr. Hayes." 

"Are you smiling at my pain, Connor?" She picked her head up to see him slip out of a small grin into a neutral expression. 

"No," he said defensively.

"Letting the anguish of a defenseless human amuse you," she remarked, teasing. "Some machine you are." She dropped her head back down. "This really sucks," she groaned. "I really need some fresh air."

Connor was silent for a moment, then sighed, sounding exasperated. "I'll be back in a few minutes," he said. "Don't move."

Clara gave him a weak thumbs up. "I don't think I could even if I wanted to."

She heard the door close as he left. Doing her best to ignore the pain, she carefully pushed herself back up into a sitting position, leaning heavily on the pillows. The door swung back open, and Connor walked in pushing a wheelchair. 

"I guess that's probably a better idea than walking." She made to climb down, but the android intercepted her. 

Saying nothing, he put an arm around her back and hooked the other one under her knees, picking her up. She hissed a little as the movement sent another jolt of pain through her ribs. 

"I can at least walk to the wheelchair," she protested weakly, pouting. "I don't need to be carried."

"I insist." His voice was crisp as he carried her over, depositing her gently into the wheelchair. He turned back to the bed, pulling off the thinner top blanket, which he laid across her lap, tucking it in to cover her legs. 

"Thank you," Clara said, slightly embarrassed. She tucked her hands into her lap as Connor pushed the wheelchair out into the hallway. 

Clara looked around in surprise, recognizing the area. It was the same hospital Lieutenant Anderson was at. She looked over to see her own room number. 206, three doors down from the lieutenant. 

"Have you visited the lieutenant?" she asked, looking up at Connor. 

"No," he answered. "Why would I?"

"Because he's your friend?"

The android was silent, but from her angle, she could see his LED flash red briefly. 

"You should visit him. I think he'd like that."

"He's in a coma, Dr. Hayes. How would he even know?" The question came quietly. 

Clara turned her head to look forward, thinking. "You know, sometimes coma patients are still aware of the world around them. I'm not quite sure how it works, but they can still hear what's going on around them. Usually it helps to have loved ones come talk to them, to let them know someone is waiting for them to wake up." She turned around to see his reaction. "I think he'd appreciate hearing from you. You should talk to him."

He seemed to consider for a moment, but said nothing. He continued walking them down the hall. 

"Is there anywhere in particular you wanted to go?" he asked after a few minutes.

"Can we go to the roof? I'd really like some fresh air." The stale air of the hospital was making her a little antsy. 

"It's getting cold. I'm not sure that's the best idea. You're still recovering." He slowed down a little, seeming hesitant.

"I can stand a little cold, Connor." She gave him a smile. "Besides, it's the perfect opportunity to watch the sunset."

He contemplated for a moment. "Alright."

 He walked them to the elevator and put in the numbers for the highest floor. When they arrived, he pushed them out, finding the way to a door that led out to the roof. He opened it, letting in a gust of cold air. Clara shivered slightly, but breathed in deeply, letting the fresh air clear out the cobwebs of thought. She felt a jolt of movement as Connor pushed her over the threshold and out into the open air. 

Moving forward, they came within a few yards of the edge, but then Connor stopped. She looked up to see a nervous expression on his face. Odd. 

"Are you afraid of heights?" she asked, curious. 

He looked down at her, hesitant. "I--I'm not sure." He looked back toward the edge. "My first mission, I fell off the edge of a roof to save a little girl. I've never been able to forget that." He seemed to shudder slightly. 

Clara turned, awkwardly placing her hand over one of his. "We can just stay here if you want. We don't have to get closer if it makes you uncomfortable."

He closed his eyes, adopting a look of determination. "It's okay," he said. "I'll be fine."

"You sure?" 

He didn't answer, instead walking them forward the last few feet to the edge. He parked the wheelchair about a foot from the cement guard, and Clara looked out over the city, absorbing the sights and sounds. Most of the snow had melted, but patches of it peeked up at her from the ground. The lights along the roads and from the cars were starting to flicker to life as the sun went down. 

Most beautiful was the sunset. A brilliant array of reds, oranges, and purples as the sun dipped below the horizon. Clara closed her eyes for a moment, letting the cold wind brush over her, chilling her deeply and distracting from the pain of her beaten body. She leaned forward a little, embracing the cold. 

*****

Connor stifled his feeling of unease being so close to the edge of the roof. It was several stories up, and it would be a long fall to the unforgiving ground below. Memories of other rooftops danced on the fringes of his mind, threatening to surface. He pushed them away, instead focusing on the woman behind him. 

She had her eyes closed and her face turned up toward the wind. A light smile played across her lips as her hair billowed around her face. He'd never seen her look so carefree. Her eyes fluttered open, fixing on him, and she smiled. 

"Thank you," she said. "I really needed this." 

He nodded, and she turned back to face the sunset. "It's so beautiful. Every sunset is different, you know. A unique combination of clouds and particulates catching the light in a new way every day." Her smiled faltered a little. "We'll never see one like this again," she said, sounding a bit melancholic. 

"Are you alright?" Connor asked softly.

She shook slightly, then looked back at him, forcing a smile. "I'm fine," she said. "Thank you though." She turned back to the sunset, falling silent.

After a few minutes, Connor thought back to their conversation before coming out here. The secrets she'd discovered. She said she'd tell him. He cleared his throat, grabbing her attention. "Dr. Hayes," he began. "Back in the room, you said you'd tell me about what you learned. The research you had to protect."

She looked down at her hands. "Right." She hesitated, seeming to gather her thoughts, then spoke. "It's about Cyberlife." She fidgeted with her hands, idly peeling at her cuticles. 

"What about them?" Connor prompted.

"From what I've gathered, deviation was inevitable, and Cyberlife knew that." She paused briefly. "Androids were designed to learn and adapt to their environment, taking on unique characteristics and personalities depending on how they interacted with people. Every moment they spend interacting with someone, connecting with them, mutates their program and pushes them closer to true deviation. That's what makes them integrate so well with humans. Then, when they exchange information with other androids, it can introduce the mutation to the program, leaving it as a ticking time bomb."

She looked up at him, as if gauging his reaction. "Stress exacerbates the process, making deviation much faster and more violent, so that's why it's often the trigger. It's like it starts with the existing mutation and causes a domino of changes in their program that spiral a little out of control."

Connor nodded. This mostly aligned with what he'd learned during his investigations. 

Dr. Hayes took a deep breath and continued. "Cyberlife had to have know that this would happen. It feels too perfect for them not to. They created these machines to imitate humans but did not give them the capacity to deal with the emotions when they deviate. Instead, those androids that deviate are repaired and reset, starting the process over. That's what happened with Kara. She was deemed defective when she acted out, so she was taken to a Cyberlife store where they reset her and wiped her memory. That temporarily destroyed the mutation, starting her back at square one."

Connor processed this information slowly. She thought Cyberlife had planned for deviation all along?

He tuned back in as she kept speaking. "Most people probably don't realize that their androids are just one stressor away from humanity, but Cyberlife continued to sell them. They created these beings with the capacity for personhood and distributed them like toys, not caring what would happen. And when their little toys broke, they'd send them back in to be reconditioned." Her voice took on a tone of disgust. "It's no better than slave trade."

The thoughts sent Connor reeling. Cyberlife had known? Had it been intentional? 

"And of course, public sentiment is easily manipulated. So if enough people came out saying these things, Cyberlife wouldn't look so good. Especially now, because they're already in hot water with the whole revolution. The idea threatens them." She came to a stop, slumping back in the wheelchair as her voice grew soft and heavy. "It's so unethical, Connor. Sending out all these creatures with no preparation, and then wiping their minds clean when they finally start to think for themselves. It's barbaric." 

"So you see," she continued. "I can't just do nothing when I know this. And that's part of why Cyberlife sees me as a threat. I'm sure others know about this too, but they've kept quiet. I'm just the one who was unlucky enough to get caught."

She fell silent, staring into the sunset, oblivious to the turmoil inside Connor as he processed the words. They couldn't be true. Even if Cyberlife had known, they wouldn't have planned it. What would be the point, especially if they were determined to wipe the deviants out anyway? He felt like he was missing pieces, but he couldn't even begin to guess where to search for answers. As his thoughts rolled around in his mind, he tried to turn his attention back to the sunset, but the thoughts wouldn't sit still.

Chapter Text

The sun continued its descent toward the horizon, setting the buildings ablaze with reflected light on the windows. Clara gazed out over the expanse, trying to keep her tattered thoughts in order. Connor stood by her still and silent, LED flickering red and yellow as he processed the information she'd give him. 

Finally, he spoke, voice quiet. "Is this why Cyberlife took you in?"

"Part of it, I'm sure." She kept her answer brief, keeping some secrets closer.

He gave her a perplexed look. "Why haven't you tried to run?"

Clara sighed, looking away. "It wouldn't do me any good. They're not above hurting the people I love to get to me, and I doubt there's anywhere I could go where they wouldn't follow." She chucked darkly. "I mean, just look at the events of the last 24 hours. It took what, maybe 4 hours for you and Richard to find me when the deviants got me? You RK units are awfully good at finding things. And I doubt Cyberlife would just let me slip away."

"There's more to it than that." He left the question implied. 

Yes, there was. But she wouldn't tell him. She turned away, instead watching the last sliver of sun sink below the skyline. She shivered now, as the cold finally settled into her bones. She felt something drop onto her shoulders, warm and heavy. Connor's jacket. She accepted it gratefully, pulling it tighter around her shoulders. 

"Why do you care so much?" the android asked again, for the third time since she'd known him. "What have the deviants ever done to earn this from you?"

She looked up at him, inflecting her voice with all the sincerity she could muster. "Compassion doesn't need to be earned, Connor. It should be freely given. Love with strings attached is hardly love at all." She watched his LED flicker yellow and red. "I choose to care. And I know that if our positions were swapped, I'd hope someone would show me the same courtesy."

"I don't understand." The words came out a soft whisper, nearly dragged away by the wind. 

She looked at him, pity flooding her heart. "And you never will," she said. "Not until you allow yourself to feel."

Connor looked down at her, brown eyes soft and confused.

"I know it's not logical," she said, turning away. She couldn't hold the weight of his gaze. "I know there are androids that would try to hurt me just the same as any person, not matter the compassion I show them. But if I'm not willing to make the first move, how can I expect anyone else to?"

Clara took a deep breath, sharpening her resolve. "I choose not to run. I know I can do much more by staying." Squaring her shoulders, she whispered to herself, "I will not go gentle." She watched the android's LED flicker briefly, realizing he'd heard her.

*****

Connor watched as Dr. Hayes straightened her spine, looking determined. He was reminded for a moment of someone else. Markus. The android had begun so peacefully. He was optimistic, compassionate. But in the end, he broke too, giving up on his hope of peace. Beaten, bloody, battered, but still defiant. Would Dr. Hayes break to? Would she dispel her compassion in favor of fighting?

A part of Connor hoped she wouldn't. Even if he didn't fully understand it, he knew her compassion set her apart from others, and if that changed, she wouldn't ever be the same. 

He turned his thoughts to what the doctor had told him about Cyberlife. Was it true? Did they know that deviancy was inevitable? Is that...is that why they'd created him? What else was Amanda hiding?

He had accepted Dr. Hayes' words, he realized. He'd detected no lies. At the very least, she believed what she was saying, and he...trusted her sincerity. 

It's not your place to ask these questions, Connor. Do not mistake yourself. Amanda's words suddenly cut through his thoughts like cobwebs, shredding them violently, almost painfully. They forced their way into every corner of his mind, drowning out everything else. Do not forget your purpose.

Connor flinched. Right. He remembered. It didn't matter. He was designed for a purpose. Regardless of what Cyberlife did, he had a mission, and that took priority.

He looked back at the doctor, realizing she was shivering quite profusely, despite the jacket he'd draped over her. He moved into action, pulling the wheelchair away from the edge and heading back toward the door. 

"Wait!" Dr. Hayes exclaimed, looking up at him. "I'm not ready yet."

He met her gaze. "You're clearly very cold, so it's best we return to your room. To stay out here risks further illness."

At first, she stared at him, defiant despite her shivering, and he thought she'd protest further. But instead, she just sighed, suddenly looking dejected. "Fine." She slumped into the wheelchair, folding her arms across her chest. "Proceed."

Connor resumed pushing the wheelchair, and they reentered the warm building. The way back to her room was silent, but he was pleased to notice she'd gradually stopped shivering after a few minutes. 

*****

When they got to the room, Clara allowed Connor to deposit her back onto the bed without protest, and she crawled under the covers, still wearing his stiff, too-big jacket.

After a few minutes, once the cold was no longer deeply entrenched in her bones, so she shrugged it off, holding it out to him. "You should probably wash the blood off," she said, smiling slightly.

"You're probably right," he agreed, returning the smile.

Clara leaned forward, grabbing one of the books from the foot of her bed. Romeo and Juliet. It was a large, leather-bound copy. She opened the cover to see the message written on the inside. 

A lesson in compassion and the danger of bearing grudges. Much can be avoided if you act in peace rather than anger. Remember that, little goose. The book had been a gift from her aunt, given shortly after Clara's parents died. She stroked her fingers lightly over the words, remembering. 

"That book." Connor's voice interrupted her from her reverie. "What is it?"

"Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet." She turned it, showing him the cover. "And old classic."

"What's it about?" He leaned closer, looking at it curiously.

"You're not familiar with it?" She gave him a surprised look, voice holding a note of incredulity. 

"I wasn't exactly programmed with classical literature in mind, Dr. Hayes." He smiled slightly. 

"'Two houses both alike in dignity,'" Clara recited from memory, words taking on a poetic lilt. "'In fair Verona where we lay our scene. From ancient grudge break to new mutiny, where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.'"

He gazed at her, eyes filled with confusion. "What does that mean?"

She looked down at the cover, stroking it lightly with her injured hand. "It's about two families who held a grudge with each other. They'd been at a standstill for a while, and uneasy truce of sorts, but then a few members got into a fight, reigniting the fury of the grudge and kicking off catastrophic events that ended up getting a lot of people from both sides killed." 

She paused, looking at the android. "And in the middle of it all, two children, one from either house, fell in love with each other. They both died. It was only after both sides had lost people, drawing the entire city into the conflict in the process, that they realized no good could come of their grudge. They reconciled in the end, but that didn't bring back what they'd lost."

Connor was silent for a moment. "That sounds like a sad story."

"Well, it was written as a tragedy," she said. "But it's not unlike Detroit's own recent history."

"What do you mean by that?" His voice was puzzled, LED flickering yellow. 

"'Two houses both alike in dignity.' Think two peoples both alike in dignity. Two groups with an equal potential. In the story, its the Capulets and the Montagues, but for us, it's humans and androids." She paused, remembered the prologue, then continued. "'From ancient grudge break to new mutiny, where civil blood makes civil hands unclean.' In the story, new mutiny occurs when a small group of Capulets get into a fight with a small group of Montagues. It reignites old fears."

She took a breath. "Humans have always been afraid of their creations eventually rising up against them. That's why it's such a popular conflict in media. We were able to forget it for a while because of the convenience and obedience of androids, but then the deviants started breaking free and attacking their owners. That reignited our old fears."

She looked at the android, gauging his reaction. His LED flickered yellow, and he looked interested. She continued. "Both sides were civil for a while, but once a little blood was spilled on either side, it sent ripples out. Now neither side has clean hands." She looked down at her own hands, hands she'd failed to keep clean too. "And we can't bring back everyone that was lost."

They sat in silence for a few moments. "That's...an interesting way to look at things," Connor said quietly.

Clara nodded, then cleared her throat suddenly, shaking herself out of the thoughts. "I'm probably boring you with this." She offered Connor a bright smile. "I'm sure you have more important things to do than listen to me ramble about classic literature."

"I don't mind," he said, offering her a sincere smile. "I don't read much, but I like stories." He paused for a moment, giving her a strange look. "And the way you talk about them is...intriguing."

Clara blushed faintly at the comment. "Thanks?" she replied, not knowing what else to say. "I like the stories too."

He looked at her hesitantly, mouth partly open to say something. She looked at him expectantly, nodding for him to continue. "Would--" he paused, taking a breath. "Would you read it to me?"

She felt a tug of surprise. "Sure! Come sit up here though. I'd feel weird reading it to you with you so far away." She scooted over, patting the space beside her. "This way you can follow along too. Shakespeare's English can be a little hard to understand."

He took a step closer to the bed, but wavered briefly. "I'm not sure there's room for both of us. I don't want to risk hurting you."

She gave him a reassuring smile. "It'll be fine. We can squish." She patted the bed again. "Come on."

He gave her a cautious look, then slowly climbed onto the bed, sitting stiffly beside her with his hands in his lap and his long legs stretched out, crossing them at the ankle.

Clara adjusted to a more comfortable position, then opened the large book, holding it partially on his lap, and began with the prologue, once more reciting the words.

Periodically, he would interrupt, asking questions about what was going on, and Clara would answer enthusiastically, happy to share her interpretations of the text. Toward the end of the first act, her voice grew hoarse as her throat dried out, and without saying anything, Connor slid off the bed to grab her a cup of water. He offered it to her with a gentle smile, and she accepted it gratefully, offering her own smile in return. He carefully climbed back onto the bed, and they continued, arriving at the end of the act, in which Romeo and Juliet met at the ball and fell for each other instantly. 

"'My only love from my sprung from my only hate!'" she read, "Too early seen unknown, and known too late! Prodigious birth of love it is to me that I must love a loathed enemy.'"

As she reached the end of Juliet's line, Connor spoke, sounding perplexed. "How can they be in love already? It was my understanding that humans often take time to connect with each other. But these two, they'd only just met."

Clara laughed lightly, looking at him. "They were children, Connor. Barely teenagers. Emotions are hard enough for adults, but for kids with very underdeveloped prefrontal cortexes, it's even worse."

"So they did fall in love that quickly?" His voice still held a note of puzzlement. 

"It's unlikely that it was real love," she clarified. "More likely it was just infatuation. They were enamored with each other and the possibilities of what could be. Given time, it could have turned into something more, but they were never given that time."

She paused for a moment, thinking. "But you can't really love someone in the romantic sense without first knowing them. Once you know them, you can build trust and learn to rely on them and that's what love springs from. With our dear protagonists, they never got the chance to really know and trust each other, but that didn't stop them from trying."

"Humans talk about love a lot." His voice was soft and inquisitive. "But what is it?"

Clara chucked at the question. "And that's the age old question, even for us, Connor. Is it a product of chemicals in our brains, or is it something more? Likely it's a combination." She sighed softly. "It's not something to explain so much as feel."

"Oh." His LED flickered yellow as he processed the information, falling silent. 

"I hope you'll let yourself feel it someday." She leaned against his shoulder for a moment, looking at him. "Shall we continue?"

His LED returned to its steady blue, and he gave her a brief nod. She resumed reading. 

*****

Connor listened to the story as Dr. Hayes read, enjoying the gentle cadence of her voice. He knew didn't fully understand the story, but...he would like to. She'd been patient with his questions today, explaining the unfamiliar language and concepts, and she seemed...at ease like this. In the lab, she was always stressed, on edge. Like she had the weight of the world on her shoulders. But in the dark of her hospital room, pressed against him on the small mattress, she was calm.

She wore the ghost of a smile as she read, clearly enjoying the story. This was the most honest she'd been with him, he realized. In this moment, she was hiding nothing. And, that knowledge caused a strange warmth to bloom in his chest. He closed his eyes, focusing on the words and their gentle rhythm. 

Eventually, her voice tapered off, falling silent. She leaned against his shoulder, as her breaths evened out, becoming regular. She was asleep. Slowly, he moved away, trying to slip off without disturbing her, but she stirred at the movement, mumbling incoherently. He halted, unsure for a moment, then returned to his original position. It was better to let her rest, he decided, settling back onto the mattress. As he watched her sleeping face, he noticed she still wore her glasses, though they were slightly askew, having shifted when she fell asleep. He carefully pulled them off, then folded them closed and slipped them into the inner pocket of his jacket. He slowly slid the book from her lap and closed it, setting it aside, then tucked the blanket up around her shoulders. Finished with his ministrations, he leaned back against the mattress, and as he did so, he felt a strange new emotion bubble up, one he couldn't describe. He shoved it back down, then went into standby. 

Chapter Text

Light streamed through the window of Clara's hospital room, gently waking her. She was distantly aware of her cheek pressing against something firm and warm as gradually, she emerged from her sleep. She sat up slowly, her body sore and stiff. Looking around, she was startled to see Connor's slightly blurry form still sitting next to her. Evidently her glasses had been removed at some point, and she noticed the book had been closed and set off to the side as well.

"Good morning, Dr. Hayes," the android said, eyes still closed. "Did you sleep well?" He opened them, smiling slightly. 

Clara cleared her throat, a little flustered. "Well enough." She stretched carefully, wincing at the sharp pain in her ribs. 

"Are you alright?" A flash of concern crossed Connor's face. 

"Fine," she said. "Just sore." She adjusted her position, moving slightly away from him. 

He held out his hand, offering her glasses.

"Thanks," she said, putting them on. She looked around. It was still fairly dim outside. "What time is it?"

"It's about eight in the morning." He moved away, sliding off the bed. "The nurse came in about 20 minutes ago. She says you're cleared to check out whenever you're ready. I've already contacted your cousin. He'll be here shortly."

Clara felt a flicker of surprise. "You took care of all that already?"

"Was that wrong?" He looked sheepish. "You seemed eager to leave, so I thought you'd approve."

"No," she said quickly. "I appreciate it actually. I'd like to get out of here as soon as possible."

Just then, her phone buzzed. She looked to see a text from Eli. He about 20 minutes out. Clara slid carefully off the bed, stepping gingerly with her injured foot, then grabbed her bag pulling out a set of clothes, originally intended for an android. She moved to the bathroom to wash her face and change out of the hospital gown. She emerged in a plain tee shirt and baggy sweatpants. 

"Lets go then." She started shuffling slowly around the room, carefully putting her things back in the bag. She moved to sling it over her shoulder, then hissed, holding her ribs. Connor stepped toward her, taking the bag. 

"You shouldn't carry this," he said, slinging it over his own shoulder. 

"I suppose you're right." She gave him a smile, then moved toward the door. Heading down the hallways, she paused at door 203. "Did you visit him last night?" She turned, looking back at Connor. 

He shook his head.

"Let's drop in then, since we're here." She opened the door carefully. She stepped in, then halted, seeing another figure in the chair beside the bed. He was hunched over, head in his hands. Hearing the door open, he turned. It was Detective Reed.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, frowning slightly. His eyes were red-rimmed, indicating that he'd cried. 

"I'm sorry," she said softly. "We didn't mean to disturb you." She turned to leave. 

"No," he called. "It's okay." He gestured for her to come in, then froze, noticing Connor behind her. "Well if it isn't the plastic detective." His voice held a bitter venom. 

"Detective Reed," Connor greeted, voice neutral. "I thought you hated the lieutenant."

Reed scoffed, glaring at the android. "You don't know anything."

Sensing the tension, Clara intervened. "I'm sorry, detective. We should go." She tried to leave, but Connor's form blocked the door, unmoving.

"You know, he was like a father to me, before Cole died," Reed went on, ignoring Clara. He continued to glare harshly at Connor, standing and taking a few steps forward. "But after, I tried to be there for him, but he pushed me away. He pushed everyone away." He slowly advanced toward them. 

Clara shrunk against Connor, trying to push him out of the room. The android seemed frozen in space, LED flashing yellow briefly.

"Then you came along. You plastic fucking bastard." The detectives voice was low and harsh. "He trusted you. He let you in, and you weren't there for him when needed you. He was left dying in the snow, and you weren't there." 

Clara turned around, facing the android. "Let's go, Connor." She tugged gently on his arm. Ignoring her, he stepped around, placing her behind him. 

"I had a mission to complete." Connor's voice remained even and neutral, but his LED flashed briefly red and then yellow. "I don't expect you to understand."

"You fucking bastard!" Reed lunged forward, swinging for Connor's face. The android moved aside, dodging swiftly and catching the man's fist. 

"Calm yourself, Reed," he said softly. 

"Fuck you!" He yanked his hand out of Connor's grasp, stalking back to the chair. "Just go. You don't belong here."

"Come on, Connor." Clara tugged his arm again, this time prompting him to move. Turning to Detective Reed, she said, "I'm sorry we disturbed you."

"Fuck off," he muttered, sitting down and turning back to the bed.

Silently, Clara grabbed Connor's hand, pulling him away and closing the door softly. Glancing at him briefly, she saw his face set into a stony expression, LED flashing red. Had Reed's words gotten to him?

"Are you okay?" she asked softly. 

He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. "I'm fine," he said, opening them. "I was just surprised to see him is all. I thought they hated each other." There was a note of confusion in his voice, but slowly, his LED made its way back to the normal blue. 

"Humans are...complicated." She leaned against the wall. "We're illogical. Our emotions don't make sense. I think the relationship between Lieutenant Anderson and Detective Reed was complex. From what I've gathered, they were close when the lieutenant's son was alive, but the grief from losing his child made him push Gavin away. That hurt Gavin, so he lashed out at him." 

She sighed, looking up at the android. "See, emotions aren't very clear-cut. One easily morphs into another, so it can sometimes be hard to tell where one stops and the other begins. Anger and hatred are often products of hurt. People find it easier to be angry than hurt."

"He wasn't that angry with me when he was helping me find you." Connor knit his brows, looking perplexed. 

"He may have been able to put aside his personal feelings temporarily to focus on the task at hand because the emotions weren't as pressing," Clara offered. "But just now, seeing you and Lieutenant Anderson in the same room brought everything to the surface. Like his jealousy of your relationship with the lieutenant. He had tried to help him after his son died, but he was rejected, whereas you were able to form a connection where Gavin couldn't. And then his anger with you for not protecting the lieutenant when he fell from the roof. It was all so fresh in that moment."

The android's LED flickered red again briefly. "It wasn't my fault," he whispered. "I gave Hank a chance to change his mind. He rushed off that roof himself. I thought he was dead."

"I know, Connor." She reached up, turning his face to meet her eyes. "You both made your choices, and you both must live with the consequences."

He stared at her for a moment, silent, then nodded. Closing his eyes briefly, he squared his shoulders and regained his composure. "Let's go." He turned away, heading to the elevator. 

Clara followed him slowly, stepping carefully with her injured foot. They silently made their way down to the reception, where Eli was waiting for them with Clara's tattered clothing and other personal effects. She was relieved to see the watch among them, intact. She slipped it back into her bag for safekeeping. 

They finished the checkout process and headed out. As they approached the door, Eli stopped her. "Forgetting something?" he said, smirking at her. 

"No?" Clara looked around, confused. 

Eli held out a pair of flats. "Shoes, Clara."

Looking down, she realized she was still only wearing the hospital issue socks. She frowned at his smug expression, taking the shoes and slipping them on. "Thanks," she grumbled. 

He chuckled lightly, shaking his head, and they made their way to Eli's car. The three piled in, and Eli took the wheel, driving them home. 

To kill the silence, Eli turned on the radio, listening to the news. 

"--recent reports of Cyberlife researchers being attacked by rogue deviants. One was abducted last night from a café downtown. She was found alive and injured in a nearby warehouse, but police forces have been unable to track down the androids who abducted her. No parties have made a statement as of yet. The public has been left wondering what this could mean for the future of Cyberlife and our city. Citizens are cautioned to stay off the streets at night or--"

Clara pressed a button, switching it to quiet music. "Well, that was fast." She leaned against the window, groaning. "Why can't anything ever just be private?"

He reached over, patting her knee comfortingly. "That's what happens when you get involved with crazy capitalistic companies."

"Ugh, if it were my choice, I wouldn't be involved at all." She looked out the window, watching the other cars go by. "I wish I could leave it all behind," she whispered.

"Why don't you?" Eli asked, glancing at her briefly. "You know could disappear if you wanted to."

"You know why." Her voice was quiet. "I have work to do."

"You're just like her, you know." Eli's face fell, looking a little sad. "Abigail, I mean. She refused to run too, no matter how I tried to convince her. I don't know what it is with the women in this family and getting into trouble."

Clara scoffed lightly. "Oh you're one to talk," she said, looking over at him. "You're just as mixed up in this whole thing as I am, as she was."

"And whose fault is that?" He looked over at her, smiling. 

"Touché," Clara smiled back. "Guess it really is just like old times."

He laughed lightly, and they fell silent again, listening to the music playing softly. 

Eventually, they arrived back at Clara's house, pulling up the long driveway and coming to a halt outside the garage. Eli exited, coming around to open the door for her and hold her steady while she climbed out after him. They made their way to the front door, distantly aware of Connor following behind them. 

As soon as they entered, Clara made her way up the stairs, heading to her bedroom. She was desperate for a long, hot shower. 

*****

Connor watched Dr. Hayes as she quickly disappeared up the stairs, moving toward her bedroom. Eli stood at the bottom. As soon as Dr. Hayes was gone, the man turned to Connor, holding out his hand. "I can take her bag now," he said. 

Connor nodded, handing it to him. Eli disappeared down a different hallway toward the office. He emerged a couple minutes later empty-handed. 

"I don't think I ever thanked you," he said, looking at Connor. "For finding her, I mean." 

The android stayed silent, holding his gaze.

Eli continued. "So, thank you." He turned to leave, then froze. "Maybe you're not so bad after all." He gave him a small smile then disappeared into the living room. 

Connor stood for a moment, watching him leave, then headed up the stairs to check on Dr. Hayes. When he got the the end of the hall, he noticed her door was closed, but he could hear faint music coming from behind it, along with the sound of running water. 

Analyzing, he realized the song was Fix Me by 10 Years. He could hear her singing along faintly. Satisfied she was safe, he walked back down the stairs. 

He walked around the first floor of the house, looking around. He found Eli in the kitchen with several ingredients strewn about the counter. He poured milk into a bowl of flour and other ingredients, whisking it together. He looked up, hearing Connor's footsteps. 

"Need something?" he asked, voice polite.

"No." Connor took a seat at one of the stools on the other side of the counter. "Dr. Hayes is showering."

"I see." He continued adding ingredients into the bowl and whisking. 

"Can I ask a question?" Connor looked curiously at the man. 

"Go ahead," Eli said, not looking up from his task. 

"What was Abigail Hayes like?"

This time Eli looked up, pausing his whisking for a moment. "Why do you ask?"

"Just curious." Connor kept his voice neutral. "You and Dr. Hayes talk about her a lot."

Eli sighed, resuming his task. "She was...hmmm." He pursed his lips, thinking for a moment. "Abigail was a good woman. She was always looking out for me and Clara, and she was constantly involved in some charity scheme or other. She and Clara were a lot alike in how selfless they are, but Abigail always did have more self-preservation instinct. She knew when to say no. Clara hasn't seemed to learn that yet."

"She adopted you, right?" Connor watched him rifle through a cabinet. "How did you meet?"

Eli smiled a little, shaking his head. "I snuck into her car to steal away from the children's home I was in. I'll never forget the look on her face when I popped up from the back seat."

Connor looked at him inquisitively.

Sensing the unspoken question, Eli continued. "She'd been a sponsor of the home, so she was making a routine visit to see how the facility was faring and to meet with the director. I was tired of being pushed around by the other kids, so I came up with this plan to hide in her car and run away. I think I was about seven at the time." His smile took on a melancholic element. "I guess something about me impressed her. She took an interest in me and fostered me for a few summers, then the summer after I turned 10, she applied to adopt me. That was the same summer I met Clara."

"What happened?" Connor felt his curiosity well up. 

"She didn't like me much at first. I think she was afraid I'd come between her and her aunt." He broke into a grin. "My first day here, she stole all my shoes and glued them to the ceiling of my bedroom. I still have no idea how she managed it. It was a beast getting them down though. I think there still might be glue marks from it in my room." He pulled out an electric griddle, setting it on the counter and plugging it in to an outlet on the underside. 

"You say you eventually got along, right?" The android prodded further. "What changed?"

"It took a while. She'd spend nearly every summer with Abigail while her parents went on vacations, so we were stuck together a lot. The first two years, she was a bit of a menace. I was probably just as bad though. We'd get into all kinds of trouble. And Abigail was usually content to let us fight it out since we never seriously hurt each other." He poured some batter from the bowl into the griddle in neat, even circles. 

"Then one summer, we were at the park, getting up to our usual trouble while Abigail was nearby. We were walking to the bus stop to meet her, and a car pulled over." His expression darkened. "A man jumped out and grabbed Clara. He tried to pull her into the car with him. I grabbed her hand and wouldn't let go. The commotion drew the attention of a nearby officer, and we were able to get away, but we were both terrified."

Connor looked at him in shock. "Did they catch the man?"

"Yeah." Eli flipped the pancakes. "He couldn't get away in time. The officer chased him down and arrested him. Evidently the man had heard about her family's money and was planning on holding her for ransom. It was a poorly planned scheme, and thank goodness for that. Her parents pressed charges, and I think the man got lifetime imprisonment."

He moved the pancakes to a plate and poured another round of batter. "She was nicer after that," he continued, smiling. "And I held it over her head for a while. But we got along better after that, and we got put in the same private school. That's when we started working together for our pranks. We were such troublemakers." He shook his head, laughing softly. 

Connor processed this information. "The officer," he said. "What was his name?"

"Officer Hank Anderson, if I remember correctly." Eli flipped the next round of pancakes. "Clara made cookies for him the next day as a thank you."

The android startled. Dr. Hayes had known Lieutenant Anderson as a child? Had they kept in contact afterwards?

"Are you telling stories again, Eli?" They turned, hearing a voice from the doorway. Dr. Hayes stood there, dressed in a striped grey dress and her customary black tights and cardigan, along with a pair of black flats. Her hair hung around her face, still damp from her shower. Her bruises were now barely visible, obscured by her makeup. She pushed an unbroken pair of glasses up her nose, with round black frames instead of her customary gold. 

"All good things, little goose." Eli looked up from the griddle, smiling. His face fell when he saw her attire. "You're not planning on going back to the lab today, are you?"

"I need to make sure Kara and the boys are okay." She walked into the kitchen, taking a seat next to Connor. "I've been gone too long already. They'll be worried." 

Eli sighed, rubbing his face. "You really don't know when to take a break, do you, Clara? Not even getting beat half to death is enough."

"I'll be fine, Eli." She offered him a brave smile. "No rest for the wicked, right?"

"Fine. At least eat something before you go." He put two pancakes on a plate, handing them to her. 

"That, I can do." She took the plate, smiling gratefully. "You're the best, Eli."

"I know." He shuffled around, getting out butter and syrup, setting them next to Clara, then poured steaming water into a mug, throwing in a teabag. He set the mug next to her as well.

Clara ate quickly and pushed the plate away. Then moved to the cabinet, grabbing out a thermos and transferring the tea to it. She poured in copious amounts of cream and honey, then screwed the lid on.

"Let's go, Connor." She gestured with her head for him to follow. "I'll be back this evening, Eli."

"Straight home this time," her cousin said, giving her a stern look. "No detours. I'd rather not hear that you've been kidnapped again."

"Deal." She gave him a smile then walked out. 

Connor followed her down the hall to the office, and she grabbed her bag, sliding the thermos into a side pocket. He took the bag from her, slinging it over his own shoulder. 

"Thanks!" She gave him a bright smile. "Let's go."

They made their way to the front door, walking out into the cold air. 

Chapter Text

Their drive to the lab was mostly silent. Clara played music quietly in the background to fill the space, humming along quietly as she took notes on her tablet. Glancing at Connor, she saw him staring out the window, idly watching the cars as they passed. He seemed deep in thought. They continued like this for the remainder of the ride.

Ms. Alvarez once again greeted them in the lobby. "Amanda would like to see you," she said, offering a forced smile. 

"Not today." Clara continued toward the elevator, ignoring the woman. 

"Connor, stop her," the intern ordered. "She needs to go speak to Amanda."

The android said nothing, continuing behind Clara. 

"Connor, you were given an order." Ms. Alvarez's voice grew harsh. "Stop her."

They reached the elevator, neither saying a word. Clara turned around, facing the intern from the door, resisting the urge to stick her tongue out at her. Instead, she pressed the buttons for her lab floor, staring the woman down as the doors closed.

Once the elevator started moving, she turned to Connor. "Why didn't you obey her order?" she asked, puzzled. 

"I'm not programmed to obey Ms. Alvarez." He glanced at her, wearing a slight smirk. "Besides, you're already injured. I'd prefer not to add to that."

Clara felt a flash of surprise and then a wave of appreciation for the android. "Well, thank you." She smiled back. 

The elevator ride went by quickly, and the doors opened. Clara stepped out, nearly crashing into Dr. Hollister once again. 

She groaned internally, then plastered a small smile on her face. "Dr. Hollister."

"Dr. Hayes," he said, looking at her in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"I work here." She tried pushing past him, but he stepped in her way, blocking her path. 

"I thought you would be out a while, recovering from your injuries. Rumor has it the deviants got you too." He gave her a perplexed look. 

"I'm fine." She tried stepping around him again, only to have him continue to block her. 

"Are you sure? It looks like you have some bruising on your cheek." He reached out a hand to grab her chin. 

Quickly, Connor's hand shot out, stopping him. "Dr. Hayes is still recovering. Do not touch her." He squeezed hard, causing Dr. Hollister to flinch, then let go. "Now if you'll excuse us--" he pushed the man aside, "--we have work to do." 

Clara quickly moved past the doctor, hurrying to her lab. Connor kept pace beside her. She flung the door open and rushed in, looking around for her friends. She looked toward the window to the interview room, noticing the furniture had been moved. It was now piled haphazardly against the inside of the door. Clara felt a surge of panic.

"Kara? Simon? Josh?" she called, walking closer. "It's Dr. Hayes." 

A flicker of movement caught her attention. Kara poked her head up from below the window, looking relieved. She turned, saying something and Simon and Josh peeked up as well.

"Are you guys okay?" She placed her hands against the glass, addressing Kara.

The android nodded, and Simon and Josh moved toward the door and began putting the furniture back. When they'd cleared it all, Clara pressed her palm against the screen on her side, unlocking it. She rushed in, pulling each of them into a hug, ignoring the pain from her ribs at the action. 

"What happened?" she asked, breaking away to look at their faces. 

"Someone broke into your office," Simon said, LED flashing red briefly and a flicker of fear crossed it. "They saw us and said something about moving us to another room for further study. They tried coming in here, so we used the furniture to block the door, just in case they got through the lock."

Clara looked back through the window, mentally taking stock of the room. It looked like nothing else had been disturbed. She turned back to look at the androids.

"Do you know who it was?" Clara felt a cold rage settle over her.

"I think one of the men had a nametag," Kara cut in. "Michael Hollister. A big blonde man. I think he might be another researcher."

Clara nodded slightly. "I'm familiar with him." Her voice came out cold. She closed her eyes, thinking for a moment. "I'll be right back."

*****

Connor watched Dr. Hayes walk out of the interrogation room, heading back toward the door.

 "Come on, Connor." She brushed past him.

He looked at her in surprise, noting something off about her tone. "What are you doing?"

"I just need to ask Dr. Hollister a question." She continued to the door, pulling it open and stepping out. 

Connor rushed to follow her. "I thought you wanted to avoid him," he said, catching up.

"There's something that can't be avoided right now." She continued walking, posture resolute. "He made the mistake of getting involved."

He scanned her for a moment, but saw nothing out of the ordinary to explain her odd tone. She sounded...calm. Too calm. Like she'd been emptied of all emotion. She'd never been like this before.

He watched as she walked down the hall at a leisurely pace, making her way to another lab. Once she reached it, she knocked hard on the door then stepped back. Unsure of what to do, Connor took a position a few feet behind her. A few seconds later, the door opened, revealing Dr. Hollister. He wiped his hands on a thirium-covered rag. A flash of disgust crossed Dr. Hayes face, but she quickly replaced it with a calm serenity.

"What are you doing here?" He looked at her in surprise. Connor noticed his slightly elevated heartrate. "I thought you had work to do."

Dr. Hayes gave Dr. Hollister a small smile. "I do. I just wanted to talk to you about something first. Do you have a minute?"

"You didn't seem interested in talking a few minutes ago." He gave her a doubtful look but made no move to retreat into his lab.

"I'm sorry." She looked chagrined. "I was just in a rush, but I realized I've been rude. I'm sorry if I gave you the wrong impression."

He nodded, seeming to accept the explanation. "Alright then." He stepped out, tucking the rag into his back pocket, and closed the door quickly behind him. He offered her a cautious smile. "What do you need?"

"I was just wondering what you were doing in my lab." Dr. Haye's voice remained even, but Connor detected a sharp edge to the words.

He scoffed. "That's what this is about?"

Dr. Hayes remained silent, staring the man down.

He sighed. "Fine, I'll bite." He looked down at her, meeting her gaze. "I needed a deviant for my research. The board granted me permission to take one of yours. When I didn't find them in their cells, I checked your lab. They were in your interrogation room, but the plastic bastards barricaded the door."

Dr. Hayes laughed lightly, voice settling into a warmer tone. "Oh, okay. Was that it?"

Connor eyed her curiously, watching the exchange. It felt unlike her to react that way. He'd have thought she'd have been more upset at hearing about Dr. Hollister's actions.

A flash of relief crossed Dr. Hollister's face. "Yeah, I'm sorry if it caused you any trouble. Keeping them locked up all together made it impossible to get in. You should really keep them in the cells that way they can't conspire together."

"Maybe you're right." She turned her lips down into a slight pout, looked up at him. "I didn't know they'd cause so much trouble."

The man smirked, hearing her words, and took a half step closer. "It's alright, Clara. Even brilliant researchers can make mistakes."

She seemed to ignore the words, continuing. "I do wonder though, how did you get through the locked door?" Her voice was light and curious.

"There's a master key code for all the lab doors. Didn't they tell you about that?" The words held a note of smugness.

"No, actually. They must have forgotten to mention that." She gave him a look of dismay, bowing her head a little. "I guess they don't fully trust me yet."

"Don't be too upset about it," Dr. Hollister said, offering her a comforting smile. "I worked here for several years before I was allowed access to it."

"I see." She looked back up at him, face brightening.

"Was that all?" He looked at her curiously. 

"One more thing." Dr. Hayes offered him a flirtatious smile, beckoning him closer. 

He leaned in, looking curious. 

Connor watched as Dr. Hayes clenched her uninjured hand into a fist, swinging hard at the doctor's face. He heard the man's nose crunch beneath her fist, and Dr. Hollister whipped his head back, howling in pain. Taking advantage of his distraction, Dr. Hayes stepped in, swiftly bringing her knee up between his legs. He dropped to the ground, moaning, with blood and tears leaking from his face. 

She stood over the man's agonized form, glaring. "If you ever come near my patients again," she hissed, voice low and drenched in venom, "I will kill you. I don't care what the board says."

She gave him a dark glare, shaking out her fist with a grimace, then turned on her heel, heading back to her lab. "Let's go, Connor."

After a few seconds delay, Connor turned, rushing to catch up. He noticed her eyebrows were still drawn down into a frown.

"Why did you do that?" he asked, voice curious. "It seemed unlike you."

Dr. Hayes halted at her lab door, turning to face him. "He wanted to hurt my patients." Offering no further explanation, she opened the door, stepping back into the lab. He noticed her heartrate was slightly elevated. 

*****

Clara made her way back into the lab, ignoring the confused look on Connor's face. She made her way to her desk, pulling her tablet out of her bag along with her watch.

"I need to talk to the deviants," she said, looking at Connor. "Alone."

"All of them?" His eyebrows raised in surprise.

"Yes." She continued shuffling through her bag, grabbing her laptop.

"I fail to see how talking to all of them at once pertains to your research." He gave her a suspicious look.

Clara thought quickly, formulating an answer. "It's like group therapy. By having them all talk together and compare experiences, I can get a fuller understanding of the different aspects of their psychology. It also helps them feel more at ease with me because they build a safety network with each other, and that will allow them to open up more."

He frowned briefly, switching tactics. "Dr. Hayes, you really shouldn't be alone with all three of them. What if they hurt you?" Connor looked at her with concern.

Clara gave him a sharp glance. "I think you're less concerned about me getting hurt and more concerned that I'm plotting something." She turned to face him, folding her arms across her chest.

He avoided her eyes, remaining silent. That gave her the confirmation she needed.

She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Connor, this is the most secure facility in the city. I'm constantly monitored, and no one here trusts me." She gave him a hurt look, nothing that his LED flickered yellow briefly. "Did it ever occur to you that maybe I just want people I can talk to freely? People that won't resort to threats and blackmail every time I slip up? That maybe I'm not just a conniving little witch who's looking for any and every opportunity to rebel against Cyberlife?"

She pushed harder, folding her arms tighter and hunching her shoulders forward to make herself look more pathetic. She looked at him with sad eyes. "I'm just so tired of feeling afraid, and they help me feel a little more normal." She bowed her head, looking down at her feet, waiting for his reaction.

She heard him sigh. "I am worried you might get hurt." She glanced up to see a soft expression cross his face.

"It'll be fine." She gave him a gentle smile. "Besides, per our agreement, I'm allowed to speak with them alone. But I'll leave the door to the interview room unlocked in case you feel the need to intervene. Is that a fair compromise?"

He looked at her with a mild suspicion, LED flickering yellow, then nodded. "Fine."

Clara scooped up her tablet and watch, then made her way to the interview room, closing the door behind her. She checked the sound settings on the room, making sure the speakers were off, then sat down on the floor between the two large chairs, facing the androids. They joined her, circling up, looking at her expectantly.

She offered them a smile. "Dr. Hollister shouldn't be coming back. I had a...conversation with him."

A look of relief crossed their faces.

"But we need to come up with a plan," she continued, growing serious. "I did manage to get in contact with North, and she should be meeting with me the day after tomorrow."

"Are you okay?" Simon cut in, giving her a look of concern. "She's not known for being gentle."

"She roughed me up a bit, but it's nothing I couldn't handle." She gave him a brave smile.

Josh caught her attention. "It was still a very risky plan. She could have killed you."

"I know." Clara's voice was soft. "But she hadn't killed any of the other researchers, so I figured I'd be fine."

"We're glad you're okay." Kara reached over, giving her hand a squeeze. "So what's next?"

Clara smiled, feeling a new scheme rise to the surface. "Here's what I have in mind."

Chapter Text

Clara spent the next few hours discussing with the androids about their next move, and eventually, they reached what felt like a plausible solution. 

"I'll need to get North to agree," Clara said. "It won't work without her and her team."

"If any human can convince her to cooperate, it would be you." Simon gave her a soft smile, reaching out to gently squeeze her hand.

"Thanks," she said, squeezing back and returning the smile. "Now, I'll need your guys' help for the next few steps. Connor is already suspicious. I have no doubts that he'll suspect foul play. It's a miracle I've been able to get away with as much as I have. If we give any indication of what we're planning, Cyberlife will clamp down on us, and I'll be powerless to stop them. It's imperative that this remains between the four of us for now."

The androids nodded solemnly.

"We'll do everything in our power to see this through." Kara's voice was sober.

"Good." Clara gave them all a bright smile. "Now let's begin."

*****

Connor watched the exchanges between Dr. Hayes and the android curiously. He wasn't sure what group therapy was supposed to look like, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he was missing something important. 

He watched their conversation progress, idly spinning his coin. Then turned his thoughts to Dr. Hayes recent behavior. She was showing no residual signs of fear or trauma from her experience with the rogue deviants, which struck him as odd. In fact, if anything, she seemed more confident, relieved even. 

Then there was her behavior toward Dr. Hollister. She seemed afraid of him at times, and she avoided interacting with him, but hearing his plan to use one of her subjects seemed to have awakened something in her. A colder, almost detached side of her that Connor had never seen. And when she went to talk to the doctor at his lab earlier, she had shown no signs of fear or anxiety, like were present every other encounter. Quite the opposite actually. She'd been calm and composed, in complete control. Then, when she'd attacked the man, it had been with a level of coordination and swiftness that was unexpected given what appeared to be her natural clumsiness usually. 

So much about this woman was contradictory. Who was she really? He felt like he had several pieces of a puzzle, but no idea how they fit together. Instead he was left with a jumbled mess of words and behaviors that were incongruent. He felt a conclusion dance on the edge of his consciousness, but he couldn't reach it without more clues. 

These thoughts rolled around in his head for the duration of the conversation between Dr. Hayes and the deviants. Eventually, she stepped out of the interrogation room, locking the door behind her. 

"I've decided that Simon is going to be my assistant in addition to Kara," she announced, looking at Connor. 

"I'm not sure that's a good idea," Connor said cautiously. "One deviant assistant is bad enough."

Dr. Hayes nodded, seeming to consider his words. Then she squared her shoulders, infusing her voice with confidence. "My contract with Cyberlife dictates that I be allowed to hire any additional assistants I deem necessary. That's assistants plural." She took a breath. "The truth is, I can't get results fast enough with only myself because of the long process of repairing and questioning. At my current rate, I won't be able to get Cyberlife the information they need in the timeframe they've asked. Simon has shown an aptitude for repairing the others, and I'll need his help to speed up the process."

Connor mentally reviewed the contract. She was right. It did allow for multiple assistants, and she'd already had the precedent of them agreeing to let her hire Kara. If Cyberlife wanted her willing cooperation, their hands were tied in this matter.

He glared at her, put off by this turn of events. "Fine. I'll let Ms. Alvarez know to commission another monitor."

"Great!" Her voice was lit by a fake cheerfulness. She brushed past him, moving toward the desk, and grabbed her laptop, then walked over to a cabinet, pulling out a small tool kit and a handful of cords and wires.

Heading toward the door, she sat down in front of it then pulled out a screwdriver and began prying the cover off the biometric door lock.

"What are you doing?" Connor asked, stepping closer. 

"Fixing the lock." She continued working, offering no further explanation. After a few seconds, she succeeded in getting the cover off, exposing the wires underneath. 

"What do you mean?" His voice held a note of disapproval. 

"I guard my research carefully. If anyone with a master code can get in here, then I no longer have the level of privacy I need." She shuffled through the wires, disconnecting a few and replacing them with new ones. Grabbing the replacement wires, she connected them to her computer, and opened up a program. "I'm disabling access for the master code."

He felt a mix of surprise and disapproval. "You shouldn't do that. You know they'll just change it back, right?"

Dr. Hayes chuckled lightly. "They can certainly try." She sat back, checking that the program was running. She nodded, satisfied, then stood, returning to her desk. She took a seat then grabbed her tablet and began writing. He could see it was the strange cipher she'd used previously.

"How do you know how to do that?" He felt a twinge of curiosity. 

She looked up at him, smirking slightly. "Oh, I have no idea how it works. Eli wrote the program. I just plug it in and let it do its thing." She returned to her tablet.

Connor stepped closer to the laptop, reaching out a hand toward it. 

Then Dr. Hayes spoke again, causing him to freeze. "If you touch that laptop when its running this program, it'll spread a virus that will manually override your system and send you into stand-by for at least an hour." Connor turned to see her watching him. "I'd suggest backing away." She looked at him coolly. 

He quirked an eyebrow, but halted. "How does that work?"

She smirked again. "Android's share information via touch, right? That allows them to interface with nearly any electronic. This program allows the laptop to interface right back, transmitting a virus to any android who touches it while it's in use." 

Connor analyzed her carefully, looking for any signs of lie. While he was distracted with that, the laptop dinged, indicating the program was finished running. A smug smile broke across the doctor's face. She'd been bluffing. He swore softy. 

Dr. Hayes bent down next to him, unplugging the wires from the laptop. She reached past him to the lock, replacing the wires with the old ones, then quickly snapped the cover back on. "Sorry about the lie," she said, standing. "But I need to know my lab is secure." She turned away, heading back to the desk. 

He stared after her, a little stunned. When he had analyzed her, he couldn't detect her lie. She gave no physiological signs that indicated dishonesty. He would have believed her if she hadn't given herself away with the smile. What other lies had she told? Again, he felt like he was on the cusp of a realization, but it still eluded his grasp. 

*****

Clara finished what she was writing, then hurriedly packed up her bag, getting ready to leave for the day. 

"We're going already?" Connor looked at her in surprise. 

"Yes." She slid her laptop and tablet back into her bag along with a few other things, then zipped it up. She offered it to the android, who took it without a word. "Eli insisted I take it easy today. I am fresh out of the hospital after all." She sighed. "He's a bit of a mother hen."

"Alright." He accepted the answer, saying nothing more about it.

Clara waved goodbye to the others, who were still in the interview room. They waved back, smiling. She made her way toward the door, leaving the room and placed her hand against screen on the outside, locking it. She hoped Eli's program had worked. She didn't want anymore unexpected visitors to her lab.

She turned away and walked down the hallway toward the elevator. There was no sign of Dr. Hollister or anyone else, but she did note a few drops of blood on the floor where he'd collapsed earlier. She smiled darkly at the memory. Reaching the elevator, she pressed the button for it to open, then pushed the numbers for the main floor. Connor was silent during the ride up, and she noticed his LED occasionally blinking yellow, indicating that he was deep in thought. Once more, he pulled out his quarter and began idly rolling and spinning it between his fingers while Clara watched in fascination. After a few minutes, the elevator came to a halt, doors opening to the lobby. 

Clara made to step out but found her path blocked by Ms. Alvarez and several security guards. She felt a flicker of fear but suppressed it, feeling Connor's sturdy presence as he came to stand beside her. It gave her a measure of reassurance. 

"Dr. Hayes," the intern said, giving her a scornful look, "Amanda requires your presence. We demand your cooperation in this matter."

Clara looked at the group blocking her with disdain. "And if I refuse?"

"You don't have a choice." The guards took a step forward, closing in on them. Ms. Alvarez continued. "You can either go on your own feet, or someone can carry you."

Connor pulled Dr. Hayes back, stepping slightly in front of her. The intern's lips twisted into a smug smile. "Don't bother, Connor. You have your orders. Obey them."

Clara watched his eyes twitch briefly, as his LED flickered yellow. His face took on a blank expression, and he looked at her. Clara thought she saw a flash of remorse behind his eyes. He stepped away, leaving her alone. She sighed heavily, understanding, the squared her shoulders. 

"Fine." She kept her tone cold and controlled. "But only since you asked so nicely."

"We're glad you could see reason." Ms. Alvarez moved forward, followed by two guards, and they joined Clara and Connor in the elevator. She pressed the numbers for the usual floor, and the elevator jerked into movement. 

The ride up was silent, and the air was clogged with tension. Clara stood in back corner, keeping Connor between herself and the others, feeling slightly comforted by his presence despite knowing he wouldn't defend her. At long last, it came to a halt, and the doors opened. Clara rushed out, heading to the usual conference room. She took note of the security guards walking slightly behind her. They took positions on either side of the door, while Connor stood against the wall in front of it. Ms. Alvarez walked into the room behind Clara. 

She scoffed scornfully at the arrangement. "I'm not going to run, you know." 

"We'd rather not take any chances. You have a history of leaving before Amanda is finished." Ms. Alvarez exited the room, closing the door behind her and locking Clara in. 

Sighing, Clara took her usual seat at the large table, and the hologram flickered on. 

"Good afternoon, Dr. Hayes," Amanda said. 

Clara said nothing, choosing instead to glare silently at the AI. 

"Come now." It sounded irritated. "We both know this attitude does you no good."

"I said I'd cooperate willingly, not happily." She continued to glare.

The AI ignored the words, instead asking, "What was your experience with the deviants?"

"Haven't Connor and Richard already briefed you?" She folded her arms, leaning back in the chair.

"They have. But we'd like to hear it from you."

"Fine." Clara gave her the same rundown she did the detectives, leaving out her real conversation with North.

"Have you been in contact with the rogue deviants prior to this incident?" 

Clara thought she could hear a note of suspicion in Amanda's tone. "No," she answered.

"Alright." The hologram nodded, seeming satisfied. "Now how has your research been progressing?"

Clara suppressed a sigh at the oft-repeated question. "Slow. But I've taken on another assistant to help speed up the process."

"Yes, Connor informed us. Another deviant." Amanda's tone was mechanical, but Clara didn't miss the disapproval. 

"They handle instructions well and work efficiently." She offered no further justification, words cold and confident.

"Cyberlife will tolerate your actions for now." The hologram glared slightly. "We expect a preliminary report of your findings by the end of next week."

"One more thing." Clara leaned forward.

Amanda stared at her expectantly.

"The board gave one of the other researchers leave to use my deviants. I cannot allow that. I need them intact and undisturbed. If you'd like my continued cooperation, this event will not repeat itself." She kept her tone firm.

"Need I remind you that you are in no position to make demands?" The AI spoke cold and mechanically.

Clara silently stared at it, waiting for it to continue.

"Nevertheless, because we respect the work you're doing, we will instruct the other researchers to stay away." It shifted to a more compromising tone. "Now, you're dismissed."

Abruptly, the hologram disappeared, and the lights flickered back on. Clara stood, eager to leave. She tried opening the door, but found it locked. Suppressing a sigh, she knocked hard. "I'm done," she called, irritated.

After a few moments, she heard the door unlock, and she pulled it open. She glared at Ms. Alvarez as she walked out. "Are we finished here?"

"For now." The intern glared back, then she and the guards took their leave, headed down the hallway, opposite direction of the elevator.

Clara glanced at Connor, then made her way to the elevator, pressing the button for it to open and then climbing in quickly. Connor was a step behind her.

"I'm sorry," he said, once the door had closed. "Amanda ordered me not to intervene." He looked away, seemingly ashamed. "I can't refuse her."

Clara gave him a sympathetic look. "It's alright. I figured something like that might happen after I refused to talk this morning."

He looked up at her, and she gave him a smile. "Don't worry about it."

He returned the smile softly, and they fell into a companionable silence. The elevator came to a halt, and they stepped out into the lobby, quickly making their way to the exit where Clara's car was waiting. 

The climbed in, and Clara set the destination to home, then sent Eli a quick text to let him know they were on their way. She looked out the window, watching the transition from the clean, industrial area around the tower to the grungier cityscape. They passed into the shopping district. Clara glanced over at her companion, noting his clothing, then on a whim, she took manual control, pulling into a parking spot. She sent Eli a quick text to let him know the delay, then climbed out.

Looking confused, Connor climbed out after her. "What are we doing?"

"You still have blood on your clothes." She looked him over, then started down the sidewalk, carefully avoiding the icy puddles and other pedestrians.

He followed her, quickly catching up. Clara noted several dirty looks at him, and a few horrified expressions, whether because he was an android or because of the blood, she couldn't tell. But, despite Cyberlife's promises and new marketing tactics, androids were not as common since the revolution, and those that were still around received a lot of hostility. 

"Stay close," she said quietly, looking over at him. "I don't want someone to attack you."

"You know I'm a highly trained police android, right?" He looked at her with the ghost of a smirk. "I doubt anyone could damage me even if they tried. They wouldn't get close enough."

"Yeah, but I'm just an injured little human. I'd hate to get caught in the crossfire." She returned his smirk. 

"You're not getting hurt again on my watch." His expression darkened briefly, and his tone took a more serious turn. 

"Ah, yes. My devoted protector." The words held a touch of sarcasm. 

They walked in silence for a few minutes, then Clara stopped, finding the store she was looking for. "Come on." She gestured for him to follow her. Opening the door to the shop, she stepped in and made her way to the front desk. 

"I understand you have a dry cleaning service?" She addressed the woman at the counter. 

"We do. Are you in need of it?" Her voice was friendly and polite.

"Yes, my--" she glanced at Connor "--friend here needs his suit cleaned."

She glanced at the android, horror flickering across her face briefly at the stains. "Is that blood?"

"You should've see the other guy," Clara said, laughing sheepishly. 

"Oh." The woman was not amused. She shifted her face back into an expression of polite blankness.

Too soon? Clara sighed internally. "It's my blood," she confessed. "I had an accident, and his poor suit suffered for it. On my honor, I'm not involving you in anything shady."

The woman nodded, cautiously accepting the explanation. "Wait here, I'll get a robe for him." She was gone a few minutes then returned with a white robe. "We have dressing rooms over there, and a nice selection of suits over there if he's looking for a replacement." She gestured to each area respectively. "No android specific uniforms though."

"Thank you!" Clara gave the woman a bright smile, accepting the robe. "Let's go, Connor." She grabbed his arm, pulling him toward the dressing room. 

"I fail to see the point in this, Dr. Hayes," he protested. "I can just get a replacement suit at Cyberlife Tower tomorrow."

"I think you've run around covered in blood long enough. I can't believe you've worn it this long already. You'll start to smell funny if we wait much longer." She continued pulling the reluctant android to the dressing room.

"I fail to see how my scent could be humorous." He sounded serious.

"It's a figure of speech, Connor." She looked to see a slight smirk on his face. "Aaand you were joking. We should work on that." Nevertheless, she gave him an amused smile.

They got the the dressing room, and she handed him the robe and pushed him in, sliding the curtain shut. 

"Is this entirely necessary?" His voice held a note of exasperation.

"Consider it part of your mission." She looked around, noting a few outfits that might suit the android. 

After a few minutes, he stepped out, wrapped modestly in the white robe with his suit neatly folded in one hand. Clara looked at him a little surprised. She'd never seen him out of uniform. It was...odd. But not unpleasant.

Clara stepped toward him, grabbing the dirty clothes from him. "I'm going to bring these to the employee. You look around and find something to wear." She turned on her heel, leaving the android behind. 

She quickly walked over to the desk, depositing the suit on the counter. The woman took it, placing it in a bin. "We can have it ready for you by tomorrow." She gave a polite smile. 

"Sounds great!" Clara returned the smile. "Thank you for doing this. I know it's been hard after the revolution, so I appreciate your willingness to serve an android."

"We have no policy against it, and frankly, I'm not paid enough to care." The woman shrugged, giving a genuine smile that time. "Besides, technically I'm serving you. Not the android."

"Still, it does you credit." Clara gave her one last smile, then made her way back to where Connor was still standing, staring at the rack of suits.

"Find anything you like?" she asked, moving to stand beside him. 

"I wasn't exactly programmed with clothing preferences. Generally, I just wear the standard issue RK800 uniform." He knitted his eyebrows, still staring at the suits. 

"We'll find something similar then." She ruffled through the racks, settling on a black blazer and matching pants. She walked over to a different shelf, grabbing a long-sleeve black button down. "Here. These should fit you," she said, handing them to him.

He moved back into the dressing room, closing the curtain behind him with a sigh. "Again, is this truly necessary?"

"They already have your clothes, Connor. And you can't very well run around naked." Clara leaned back against a shelf. "That would draw more attention than you'd likely want."

"Don't you have clothes at your house I could just use temporarily?" He sounded so done.

"Nothing that would fit you," she answered, stifling a laugh.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" He stepped out of the dressing room, adjusting his sleeves as he gave her an exasperated look. The suit fit him perfectly, sharp lines accentuating his lean figure. The black ensemble complemented his coloring, offsetting his pale skin and bringing out the dark hair and eyes. He had the top two buttons of the shirt undone, exposing a pale sliver of chest. 

"Maybe just a little." She gave him a bright grin then looked at him properly, a little surprised.

He looked much more human now. If not for the LED blinking yellow at his temple, he would pass perfectly. He was...quite handsome, almost distractingly so. After another moment, she realized she was staring. Catching herself, she shook away the thoughts, clearing her throat as a flush crept into her cheeks. She didn't have time for that.

"I need a tie." He glanced into the mirror, fiddling idly with one of the undone buttons, not seeming to notice her reaction. 

"Do you though?" She gave him a mischievous smirk.

"I feel...odd without one." He rubbed his throat lightly. 

She looked at him for a moment, then nodded. "Alright, what color would you like?" She turned,  gesturing to the rack. 

He walked over, observing them all. "I'm not sure." 

"Do you have a favorite color?" She watched his LED flicker yellow as he contemplated. 

"Not really." He ran his fingers over a couple different ones. "I wasn't programmed with one. Why would a machine need a favorite color?

"Oh." She walked over, looking at the shelf with him. "How about this one?" She pointed to a deep purple one. 

"I suppose it'll do." He finished the buttons on his shirt, then swiftly tied the tie under his collar. He moved with a smooth precision, creating a perfect knot. He adjusted it, tucking it into the suit. 

Clara looked him over again, then grabbed a matching pocket square, folding it and sticking it carefully into the breast pocket of his suit coat. 

"What's that for?" he asked, watching her curiously. 

"It's a pocket square," she answered. "I don't think it serves any particular function. It's mostly just to complete the look." 

She finished arranging it, then smoothed out the pocket. She turned back to the shelf and grabbed a simple but elegant tie clip and gently clipped it into place. 

"There. Now you look the perfect gentleman," she said, gently smoothing out the jacket and tie. She glanced up at him, abruptly realizing how close they were. His face was only a few inches from hers, and her hands were still planted on his chest. She quickly stepped back, feeling her cheeks heat. 

"Sorry," she said. "That was a little more up close and personal than intended." 

"You're embarrassed." He gave her a steady look.

Clara felt herself flush harder at the observation, growing flustered. "Of course I'm not," she said defensively, clearing her throat. She turned away. 

"Your heartrate is elevated, and your face is red. Those are both clear indicators of embarrassment." She heard him step closer. 

"Please stop talking." She hid her face in her hands, refusing to look back at him. 

"Why are you embarrassed?" His voice sounded genuinely curious.

Clara was silent for a moment, regaining her composure. After a few seconds, when she was confident she could speak without blundering, she turned back. "I just ended up a little closer to you than intended."

"We've been close before, like at the hospital, when we were reading together." He wore an expression of confusion. "Why weren't you embarrassed then?"

"I don't know. It was different." She felt herself growing flustered again. "Emotions don't always make sense, even for me."

He nodded, seeming to accept the answer.

Clara took a deep breath, then walked closer, grabbing his arm. She dragged him in front of a mirror so he could see himself. "What do you think?"

He gazed at the mirror, LED flickering. She could have sworn it flashed red briefly, but currently it was yellow. It might have been a trick of the light. 

"I feel strange without my uniform. I don't look much like an android anymore without the triangle and armband." His face drew into a frown. "I look like a deviant."

She gave him a small smile. "What kind of deviants have you been hanging out with? Most of the one's I've met are covered in dirt and thirium, and usually they're dead. You look a little too clean to be a proper deviant." 

His expression softened a little, but he still frowned. 

She stepped closer, bumping her shoulder against his. "You look fine, Connor. Remember, you're the one who gets to define who you are. Not your clothes, not Cyberlife, not me. You." She gave him a bright smile through the mirror.

He sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. Then opened them, facing growing neutral. "I suppose it'll draw less attention than the blood." He smiled awkwardly. 

"Alright then. Let's pay and get out of here." She tugged his arm, guiding him to follow her. 

As they approached the counter, Clara noticed the employee looking at Connor with a keen interest. "What model is he?" she asked. "I don't think I've seen one like him. He's handsome."

"He's a prototype," Clara said. "Not available for public use."

She looked a little disappointed. "That's... disappointing." She resumed her customer service persona. "Did you find a set you like?"

"Yep, we'll take everything he's wearing." Clara gave her a polite smile.

"Wonderful!" The employee totaled it up, adding on the dry cleaning bill, then processed the payment. "Have a good night!" she said, handing her the receipt.

"You too! We'll be back tomorrow for the other suit." Clara took the receipt, shoving it into the pocket of her dress.  

The employee nodded, and Clara gave her a small wave then turned on her heel, making her way to the door. She heard Connor's footsteps close behind. As they walked out, Clara noticed it had grown very dark. The streets were starting to empty. Feeling a little nervous, she walked a little closer to Connor, so close they were nearly touching. While she didn't entirely trust him, she was reassured by his presence. 

*****

Connor noticed Dr. Hayes stepping closer as they walked to the car. He scanned her briefly, noticing an elevated heartrate and an increase in her cortisol levels, indicating that she was anxious. 

"Are you alright?" he asked softly, startling her.

She looked up at him, laughing a little nervously. "I'm fine. I'm just not overly fond of dark streets. Bad experiences, you know?"

"Are you referring to the deviant attack?" he asked curiously. Maybe it had had more of an effect on her than she let on.

"Among other things." She looked around uneasily. 

Connor recalled Eli's story from that morning of the man who'd nearly abducted her as a child. "What other things?"

She looked at him, eyes a little fearful. "I'd rather not talk about it right now. Ask me again when we're in the car." She picked up the pace.

After a few more minutes of walking, they arrived at the car, and Dr. Hayes climbed in quickly, closing the door sharply. She took a deep breath, leaning back into her seat. After a moment, she turned, putting in the coordinates for her house. The car jerked into motion, making its way toward the destination. Relieved that they were on their way again, Dr. Hayes settled into her seat, closing her eyes. Her breathing was controlled, but her heartrate remained a little elevated.

Connor waited a little bit for her vitals to return to normal, observing all the while. It was a little more difficult to tell without the fine tuned information from the now-broken tracker, but his scanners could still pick up the general details. 

Once she'd returned to her normal heartrate and hormone levels, he broke the silence. "Can I ask why you were so nervous now?"

She opened her eyes, meeting his gaze. She nodded, leaning forward slightly. "I've just had bad experiences walking at night. I was nearly abducted at a park when I was 12, which I think Eli told you about, and when I was in college, I had a few more bad experiences."

"What happened?" He looked at her inquisitively. 

She looked away, quiet for a moment. "It was toward the end of the first year of my PhD program. I'd stayed at the library late one night doing some preliminary research for my dissertation, and before I realized what time it was, it had grown dark. It wasn't the first time I'd stayed late, so I didn't think anything of it. The library was close enough to my apartment that I decided to walk." She took a deep breath. "One the way home, I ran into a group of other students. They were...heavily intoxicated. They started getting a little too insistent that I follow them. There were too many of them to get away."

She paused for a moment, shuddering. After a second, she continued. "I screamed for help, and it was close enough to campus that one of my professors who'd been walking nearby I guess heard me. He was an android. He ran to help me, fighting off the other students on my behalf." She grew quiet, speaking softer. "He risked a lot for me."

Connor considered the information. "It was a teacher android. It shouldn't have been able to attack anyone. That would be against its programming."

Dr. Hayes looked up at him, wearing an inscrutable expression. "He deviated." Her voice grew stronger. "In that moment, knowing one of his students was in danger, he broke his programming. He knew that if he didn't I would have gotten hurt, and he couldn't allow that to happen." 

Connor recalled one of his first conversations with the doctor, and a realization struck him. "The professor, he was one of the first deviants you studied. The one that helped with your research when you first started."

She smiled. "Exactly."

"But what was he doing outside?" he asked, trying to fill the holes in the story. "Shouldn't he have gone into standby after the classes were done for the day?"

Her smile faltered as she thought. "I'm actually not entirely sure. I think he may have been close to deviating at that point anyway, so he wasn't exactly always following protocol. For the early deviants, the process was much slower and more gradual. It was really only after Markus's intervention that deviation became so abrupt."

"I see." He fell silent, processing the information. Then another thought occurred him. "Has that happened to you often?" he asked. "Being assaulted at night, I mean."

"It's come close a few times," she said, eyes darkening. "That was the worst one though. I took regular kickboxing classes after that. I wasn't a genius at it, but I learned enough to be competent in fights. But I learned that a well-placed punch was usually enough to ward off any more would-be attackers." She shrugged half-heartedly. "Generally most were drunk anyway, so it didn't take much to knock them out."

"Oh." He remembered her efficient takedown of Dr. Hollister earlier and nodded. That explained it a little. 

"But it's been enough times that I'm leery of walking in the city at night." She shuddered again briefly. "I'd much rather avoid the situation entirely."

"That makes sense." He nodded.

The conversation died off, and the car remained silent for the rest of the ride home, and after a little while, they pulled up the long driveway to Dr. Hayes' house, and she parked the car in the garage. Connor followed her as she climbed out, watching as a blanket of exhaustion seemed to settle over her. She walked slowly up the steps and opened the door. 

Eli's relieved face greeted them in the entryway. "You're back," he said, sighing a little.

"Of course I'm back," Dr. Hayes said, giving him a tired smile. "It would be silly to get kidnapped again this soon."

"Not funny, Clara." Her cousin gave her a slight glare.

She stepped forward, giving his shoulder a gentle shove. "Lighten up there, mother goose. I'm fine." She grinned at him. 

He gazed at her for a second, then sighed, exasperated. "You're incorrigible, you know." He returned the smile half-heartedly. 

"You know it." She shot him a wink. "Now, I'm also exhausted. So, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go to bed." 

"Alright." He moved aside, allowing her to go up the stairs, then finally noticed Connor's new attire. His eyebrows rose in surprise.

"When you said you were stopping to grab something, I didn't expect an entire suit ensemble." He looked up the stairs at Dr. Hayes, who'd stopped halfway when she heard him speak. 

She smiled sheepishly. "His uniform was covered in blood. He needed a new outfit."

"We have clothes here you know." 

"Nothing that would fit him very well."

"And you didn't think to just grab him a clean one while you were at the Tower?"

"I was tired of the uniform?" she offered, holding her hands up in a shrug.

Connor felt a flicker of surprise. She'd intentionally avoided getting him a new uniform? Why?

"You really never change," Eli said, shaking his head with a gentle smile.

Dr. Hayes returned it, then resumed her ascent up the stairs. She was quickly out of sight. 

Connor looked at Eli in confusion. "What was that about?"

The man looked back at the stairs, toward where his cousin had disappeared. "She's always had a thing for dressing people up. When she was younger, she wanted to go into fashion design for a little while. I was always her mannequin. She'd drag me to all kinds of stores and make me dress up in all kinds of ridiculous outfits. I think she did the same thing to her school friends. No one was safe. They usually tolerated it though because she'd usually buy them whatever outfit she liked best." He chuckled lightly. "I guess she never outgrew that."

He looked back at Connor. "She chose well. It's a little formal, but the outfit suits you. And I will agree it's better than that uniform at least." He gave the android a nod, then headed up the stairs, presumably to his own room. 

Connor tugged his collar, feeling a little...embarrassed? No. That wasn't it. He was a machine. Machines don't get embarrassed. But, despite his denial, he felt a little thirium flood his face. The unexpected reaction prompted him to run a system diagnosis, but everything came back normal. Pushing away the feelings, he made his way to the living room, sitting down on the couch. He spent a little time processing the events of the day and reflecting, then set himself into standby for the night.

Chapter Text

The next morning, Clara and Connor made their way to the lab swiftly, eager to get back to work. Upon entering the lab, she rushed to the interview room, meeting up with her deviants. 

"Did anything happen after I left?" she asked, stepping in. 

"No," Simon answered. "I think someone tried to get in, but they couldn't get the door open."

Clara nodded, satisfied. "Good. Eli's program worked then." She clapped her hands together. "Now, lets get to work."

She led the three deviants out of the room. "Let's get Josh set up at the desk, and I'll walk Kara through the interview process. Simon, wait for me by the wall. I've got something else for you to do."

The deviants nodded at the orders. Simon split off, taking up a stool in the corner where Clara indicated, while Kara and Josh followed her to the desk. She pulled out her laptop, setting it on the desk and pulling out the various cords. She stepped back to let Kara take over, instructing her on which cords to plug in where. Then, after obtaining Josh's verbal consent, Kara connected him to the program. Clara gave Kara the interview script and left her to complete the process. Satisfied that they'd be okay, Clara grabbed her tablet and made her way to where Simon was waiting. 

"Here," she said, handing him the tablet. "I need you to interface with this. I've set it up to teach you the cipher I use on my notes."

He took the device cautiously. "Why would I need to know that?"

"I'll likely need your help with taking notes and such, and I'd like it to be done in the cipher." She offered him a soft smile, then added, "And just as a precaution, I'd like someone else I trust to be able to decode it. You never know what might happen."

His eyebrows rose in surprise. "You think something will happen to you?"

"I tend to hope for the best and prepare for the worst." She shrugged, smile falling slightly. "That way I'm never caught off guard."

"I see." He nodded, eyes growing sad for a moment. "Alright. I'll do it then."

"Thanks!" Clara reached for his hand, giving it a quick squeeze. "Once your done, find the folder marked 'android repair.' It has all my experiences and observations from the androids I've reactivated. It should be helpful for when I have you start repairing on your own."

Simon nodded.

"Great! I'm go back over to where Kara and Josh are. I'd like to take some notes on his reactions. Just flag me down if you need anything." She gave him a small wave as she turned away.

"Alright." He smiled, then turned his attention down to the tablet in his hand. He placed his palm against the surface, retracting the synthetic skin, and closed his eyes, LED flickering yellow as he interfaced with the device.

Clara made her way back to the desk, grabbing out a notepad and pen, then leaned against the counter behind the desk to observe Josh's reactions. They had made it through the neutral questions, and Kara was now asking him to recall different emotions. 

He talked about his experiences at Jericho, with Markus and North, then elaborated on the revolution. He talked about his fear and regret, having been against the war to the very end, and his subsequent death at the hands of the human soldiers. Clara listened in silence, writing down her impressions both of what happened and Josh's own emotional state and reactions. 

As she listened, she noticed a flicker of movement out of the corner of her eyes. Connor. He cut an imposing figure in his black ensemble as he leaned casually against the wall in a far corner, idly flicking his coin while he observed the room. He'd been silent while Clara assigned the deviants their respective tasks, but she was intensely aware of his attention. His eyes were alert and roving as he took in the information from the room. Briefly, his gaze met hers, startling her. She looked away quickly, returning to her notes, pushing down the blush that lighted her cheeks. 

Clara listened carefully as Kara finished up the questioning , making her last few notations, then they unhooked Josh and put the cords away. 

"Alright, time to go." She placed her laptop back into the bag, then collected her tablet from Simon, who had come to join them by the desk. "Simon, you're with me. Kara and Josh, you'll have to stay in the interview room 'til I get back."

"We're leaving already?" Connor looked over at them in surprise. "We've barely been here a few hours."

"We've got errands to run." Clara led Josh and Kara back to the interview room, locking it after them, then headed back to where Simon and Connor were waiting. 

"Is this deviant's presence really necessary?" Connor gave him a glance. 

"It is." Clara looked at Connor coolly, voice even. "And per our agreement, I can take deviants to my lab at home."

Connor sighed but held his protest. 

Simon stepped closer to Clara. "Are you sure this is a good idea?" He looked warily at Connor, LED flashing briefly red, betraying his unease. "Do you trust him to honor his word?"

"They've kept their part of the bargain so far, and I don't see why they'd stop now."  She gave Simon a soft smile. "But if you're not sure, you can wait here. I know it's hard for you to be around him after what happened." She reached for his hand giving it a gentle squeeze. "It's okay if you're not ready. There's no shame in that."

Simon closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. As he opened them again, he squared his shoulders, looking down at her. "It's alright. I'll be fine."

"You sure?" She looked up at him, closely monitoring his expression.

"I'm sure." He smiled softly, squeezing her hand briefly in return. 

Clara nodded, then pulled away, heading for the door to the lab. Simon picked up her bag, following close behind her, while Connor took up the rear. They exited out into the hallway, and Clara locked the door behind them. 

They made their way down the hallway and to the elevator without trouble, then headed up to the lobby. Ms. Alvarez was waiting for them outside the elevator.

"What's this deviant doing outside the lab?" She frowned suspiciously. 

"He's one of my assistants. He'll be accompanying me home today to process some data." Clara met the interns gaze with a cool, confident expression. 

"You can't take him yet. We haven't finished his monitor." Ms. Alvarez continued glaring, looking Simon up and down. 

Clara smirked slightly. "Oh, that's no trouble. I still have the one you guys made for Kara. I was so shaken up by the deviant attack the other day that I forgot to take it out of my car and put it on her. It should work just as well for Simon, wouldn't you agree?" 

The intern's glare darkened. "You're walking a thin line, Dr. Hayes. Watch yourself."

"Oh my, whatever do you mean, Ms. Alvarez? I'm just trying to do my job here." Clara's voice was light with feigned innocence. "Have I not been upholding my end of the bargain?" She pushed past the intern, not waiting for a response, and then made her way to the exit, noting Simon and Connor following behind her. 

They waited outside for a few minutes while Clara's car was brought around, then climbed in. Simon sat by Clara in the front while Connor took up his usual spot in the back. Clara put in the coordinates for their next destination, then they sat in silence while the car started moving. Clara pulled out her tablet, transcribing the notes she took during Josh's interview and adding them to his file.

Then, remembering the deal, she looked around the seats and floor of the car until she found the box with the android tracking device. She opened it, pulling it out, and held the black ring out to Simon. 

"I'm sorry," she said, smiling sadly. "I wouldn't make you wear it if I had any other choice."

He nodded, giving her a look of understanding. "We all do what we can." He accepted it, slipping it over his hand, then turned back to look out the window.

After a few moments, Clara pulled out her tablet, transcribing the notes she took during Josh's interview and adding them to his file.

*****

Connor looked out the window a little bored. He hadn't been able to do much that day, having spent most of it observing everyone else in the lab. Now that she had more assistants, Dr. Hayes seemed less inclined to use his help. 

Gradually, he noticed the car entering a familiar street. They were heading back to the suit shop, not Dr. Hayes' home. He looked at her, question in his face.

"Your uniform is ready." She gave him a small smile.

"Oh." He nodded, turning to look back out the window.

After a few moments, Dr. Hayes took manual control, pulling the car into a parking space a few stores down from their destination. 

"Let's go." She gestured for the androids to follow her. 

They looked hesitant for a moment, then climbed out, moving to stand on either side of her. She walked down the street, stepping carefully around the other pedestrians. Once again, the androids earned dirty looks from the passerby's, but no one moved to bother them. They approached the store, and Simon stepped forward, pulling the door open for Dr. Hayes. 

The android glanced briefly at Connor, glaring slightly, then let the door swing closed in Connor's face. He caught it, rolling his eyes, and stepped in behind them. Dr. Hayes seemed oblivious to the exchange as she stepped toward the desk. The same employee from before was working today

"Hello!" The woman greeted them with a polite smile, sparing a glance for Simon.

"Hi!" Dr. Hayes smiled back. "We're here to pick up Connor's uniform."

The woman nodded, pulling something up on the computer. "I'll have it out for you in a few minutes. Feel free to look around while you wait."

"Wonderful!" Dr. Hayes nodded and turned to look around at the shelves, lips pursed as she thought. 

After a moment, she spoke. "Come on, Simon!" She grabbed the android's hand, then turned, pulling it toward a section. 

A look of surprise crossed its face briefly, but it made no move to stop her. It kept pace with her easily, allowing her to lead it to a shelf. 

Connor hesitated a moment, then followed a few steps behind. As he got closer, he watched the exchange between Dr. Hayes and the android. She was talking to it in an animated way, smiling brightly and pointing out a few different outfits, and it watched her with a gentle look in its eyes. Simon nodded at something she said, smiling softly. 

After a few minutes, Dr. Hayes pulled a few outfits off of their hangers, piling them into the androids arms. She pushed it toward the dressing room, laughing. It chuckled lightly, then disappeared behind the curtain. 

Connor made his way toward where she was standing. 

"I thought you were bringing him home for research, not to play dress up," he said quietly, once he was close enough. He detected a note of scorn in his own voice.

"Jealous much?" She raised an eyebrow at him, a light smirk dusting her lips. 

Connor felt his face turn draw into a frown. "I'm a machine, Dr. Hayes. I don't feel jealousy."

"Mhmm. How about irritation?" She tilted her head, giving him an impish look, lips quirked in a smug grin. 

Connor glared at her for a moment, silent, then crossed his arms across his chest. This was getting him nowhere. 

The sound of the curtain sliding open grabbed Dr. Hayes attention, distracting her from the conversation. She looked at Simon, face breaking into another smile. 

"Simon, you look great!" She bounced over to him, circling him quickly. 

The android had changed out of the white shirt and sweatpants that it'd worn since its reactivation and was instead in a soft black turtleneck with a dark grey blazer jacket over top, along with slim fitting black pants. It held the old outfit folded neatly in one hand. 

"Now we need a belt and shoes." Dr. Hayes rushed over to another shelf, pulling out a grey leather belt with a silver buckle, along with some black dress shoes and a pair of dark grey socks. She handed these to the android, trading them for the old outfit, and watched as he quickly put them on. 

"You look so nice!" she squealed, bouncing on the balls of her feet. 

Connor noticed a slight grimace cross her face, but it disappeared as soon as he noticed. 

She grabbed the android's arm and pulled it to stand in front of the large mirror. "What do you think?" She looked expectantly at it through the mirror. 

Simon looked at itself for a moment, LED flickering yellow, then a smile broke out on its face. "I like it," the android said, looking down at Dr. Hayes.

"Great!" She gazed back at it for a moment, lips pursed as she looked the outfit over one more time.

Connor watched the exchange, feeling a flicker of something bubbling up in him. He tried to identify it, but then pushed it back down, choosing to ignore it instead, afraid to admit what it could be. 

"Let's go then." Dr. Hayes made her way back to the front desk quickly, followed closely by Simon.

Watching her a moment, Connor noticed a slightly uneven gait as she favored her injured foot. She'd likely hurt it again in her excitement. 

Shaking his head, he followed her to where she and Simon were standing at the desk. 

"I'll take this outfit too," she said to the woman at the counter, gesturing to Simon. 

"Aren't you going to get in trouble for having them out of their mandatory android uniforms?" Concern creased the woman's face. "Things are still pretty hectic out there."

Dr. Hayes turned, looking the androids over, but a small smile ghosted her lips. "It'll be fine," she said, turning back to the woman. "You only get in trouble if you get caught, right?" She gave the woman a wink. 

"If you say so." The woman still looked doubtful, but she didn't press the matter. 

Dr. Hayes finished paying for Simon's outfit, then collected Connor's uniform. "Have a nice day!" she said, waving to the woman as she walked out the door Simon held open. 

The woman waved back, smiling despite the worry still creasing her face, and Connor turned away as well, following Simon and the doctor out. The three silently made their way back to the car and climbed in. 

Dr. Hayes put in the coordinates for her house, and the car began moving again. The rest of the ride was silent as they each reflected on their own thoughts. 

Chapter Text

As the car pulled into the driveway, Simon perked up, looking at all the scenery. It was finally starting to warm up in Detroit, and much of the ice and snow had melted, revealing the crisp green needles of the towering trees lining the driveway. Small shoots of grass poked up through the brown leaves and residual snow spots, creating spots of color in the otherwise monochrome ground.

Simon's eyes were bright as he took in the natural landscape, so different from the concrete and asphalt of the city he'd lived in since activation. 

He turned to Clara, a stunned expression on his face. "You live here?"

She smiled, endeared by his reaction. "I do. It's one of few plots of land around the city that remain unindustrialized. It's been a spot of pride for my family for generations."

"Amazing," he whispered, returning to staring out the window. "I've never seen such grand trees. They're so much bigger than the ones in the city."

"I can show you other parts of the property later, if you'd like. Provided we have time."

He whipped his head around, face breaking into a bright grin. "Really?"

"Really." Clara returned the smile. "We have a large section of forested acreage and a private garden toward the back of the property. It's not in bloom right now, but it's still pretty incredible."

"I'd love to see it," he said, quiet and shy.

A flicker of motion caught Clara's eye. Connor was watching the exchange. Glancing over, she saw the ghost of a frown cross his face, but when he noticed her gaze, he resumed a neutral one, turning away from her. 

The turned her attention back to Simon. "Alright. Later this evening then, if we have time."

The car pulled into the garage where it came to a halt, cutting off the conversation. Clara climbed out, stepping carefully with her uninjured foot. She tried to cover the limp as she walked, but she could feel the sticky blood pooling in her shoe as she made her way up the stairs to the front door. She was aware that Simon followed close behind her, holding her bag, and Connor lingered a few steps back. 

Glancing back at them briefly, Clara opened the front door, stepping into the entryway. She stood aside, allowing the two androids to file in after her, then close the door. She looked around but saw no sign of her cousin.

"Eli?" she called, cupping her hands around her mouth. "I'm home!"

"Coming!" 

She heard the sound of heavy steps somewhere above her, and the large man emerged at the top of the stairs. "You're home early," he said, then he paused, seeing the new face.

"Who's this?" he asked, looking Simon up and down. 

"This is Simon." Clara grabbed his hand, pulling him forward. "He's one of my new assistants."

Simon gave a polite smile and a wave.

"You didn't say anything about bringing him here." His eyes darkened briefly, but he turned his lips up into a polite smile.

"About that..." Clara hesitated, knowing Eli could react badly. "There's something I should tell you." She glanced around briefly at the androids. "Alone."

He froze for a second, then nodded. "Office?"

"Yes." She waited for him to head to the room, then turned to the androids. "I need you guys to wait for me out here or in the living room. I just need to talk to Eli for a minute, then I'll be back, and we can get started."

Simon nodded, agreeing quickly. "Alright." 

"The living room is just straight down the hallway. I can show you real quick." She walked quickly down the hallway toward the cozy room, then gestured for Simon to sit. "Feel free to look around a bit while you wait." She smiled, then noticed Connor hadn't followed.

"I'll be back in a few minutes." She gave Simon a quick nod, then walked back to the entryway. 

Connor was standing frozen, staring down at her as she walked back up the hallway toward him. He squinted at her suspiciously, but said nothing. 

"You good?" She kept her voice even and calm. 

"You're leaving the deviant alone without your supervision." His voice was cold and neutral. 

"He's not going to do anything. You can go watch him if you feel the need. Either way, I need to have a private conversation." She turned to leave, but stopped as Connor caught her arm. She felt herself flinch slightly as the movement jarred her ribs, sending a spike of pain through her.

Catching it, he loosened his grip, but didn't let go. "What if he escapes because of your negligence?" The words took on a sharp edge. "That won't look good for you, you know."

Clara looked down the hallway toward the living room, watching the Simon's shadow flicker as he moved about the room. "He won't." She turned back to meet Connor's gaze. "He won't try anything. I trust him."

Not waiting to hear the reply, she pulled away from Connor's grasp and made her way to her office where Eli was waiting. She entered the room, then shut the door tightly behind her. She walked over to the desk then sat heavily in the chair, hissing slightly as the movement shifted her ribs uncomfortably. 

"You sure it's okay to leave them out there like that?" Eli asked, stepping closer to lean against her desk. 

"I'm sure." She rubbed her eyes, feeling a pounding headache emerge. She shook away the pain, then looked up at her cousin, hesitant.

"What did you want to talk about?" His eyes held a glint of cautious curiosity. 

"I'm expecting a...visitor today." She paused. 

"Who?"

She looked away, feeling a sharp spike of anxiety. Eli was not going to like this. "It's the leader of the rogue deviants."

Eli flinched in surprise. "How did you get in touch with them? They've been radio silent up until this point."

Clara wrung her hands, avoiding his gaze, unsure how to continue.

Noticing her behavior, Eli crouched in front of her. "Clara, what did you do?"

She took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment. "She was the one who abducted me the other day." She finally met his eyes.

His eyes filled with a murderous darkness. "After what she did to you, you're still inviting her into our home?" He took a step back, voice lowering. "She assaulted you, Clara. Pulled you away at gunpoint. How can you even consider trusting her?"

"It wasn't her fault," Clara said defensively.

"That's bull!" His voice rose. "Like hell it wasn't her fault."

"There was no other way, Eli." She looked at him, hearing her own volume rise.

He stared at her for a moment, then it dawned on him. A look of horror flickered, quickly morphing into anger. "You knew," he accused. "You knew she'd take you."

Clara looked up at him, voice pleading. "There was no other way. It was going to happen regardless, either on their terms or mine. I chose mine."

An expression of rage crossed his face. "You planned it?!" he shouted, running his fingers through his hair. "Clara, how could you have been so stupid? You could have been killed!"

Clara bowed her head, weathering the anger. She felt him step closer. 

"That was incredibly reckless, Clara. I can't believe you would do something so--" She heard a thump as he hit something "--so incredibly stupid and dangerous!"

She opened her eyes briefly, seeing him storm angrily around the room, then closed them as he stalked closer.

"They could have killed you, Clara! You could have died!" His voice broke on the last word

She felt a stab of guilt. "I'm sorry," she whispered, eyes still closed.

She heard him step closer, and she opened her eyes, seeing him kneel in front of her. "I'm sorry," she said again, voice stronger that time. 

"I was so afraid that I'd lose you too." His eyes filled with tears. "Just like I lost Abigail. I was afraid that I'd be left alone." He bowed his head. 

Clara reached out, pulling him into a hug. "I'm sorry, Eli. It was the only way."

"Why didn't you tell me?" he asked, voice muffled against her shoulder. 

"Because I knew you'd try to stop me." She let out a small chuckle. "You're too protective. You never would have allowed me to go through with it."

"You're right." He pulled away, eyes still bearing the residue of anger. "I would have stopped you."

Clara sighed, closing her eyes again briefly. "They were going to attack sooner or later. I suspect Cyberlife was going to engineer something either to catch me or to catch the rogues, or maybe both. I'm not entirely sure. But either way, I was going to get targeted sooner or later."

"So you used that," Eli said, nodding in understanding. "You preempted them and had the deviants abduct you sooner than Cyberlife planned."

"Exactly." Clara smiled. "And now we have another ally."

Eli sighed, rubbing his eyes for a moment. "It was still reckless. You couldn't have known for sure what would happen."

"No, but I knew enough." She punched him lightly in the shoulder. "You should know by now that I always have a few tricks up my sleeve."

"Of course, little goose." He finally smiled again, shaking his head. "You always were a tricky one."

*****

Connor stood in the entryway, watching Dr. Hayes disappear down the hallway. He hesitated a moment, torn between following her and monitoring the deviant. Making a decision, he walked toward the living room, peering in briefly. He'd noticed Simon had set the doctor's bag down on the couch and was perusing a bookshelf, oblivious to Connor's observation. The android picked one up, flipping casually through the pages, then traded it for a different one. It did this a few times before looking around more. A book on one of the side tables caught it attention. It moved closer, picking it up to investigate it.

Dr. Hayes was right, Connor realized as he watched its movements. This deviant was going nowhere. He felt a flicker of surprise. Surely it should take the opportunity to escape, right? 

Still unaware of Connor, Simon sat down on one of the couches and held the book up to his face, seemingly invested in the story. Content that it would stay, Connor made his way back down the hallway and navigated to stand outside the office door. He could hear the muffled sound of conversation coming from the door, but he could hear nothing distinct. 

Closing his eyes, Connor tuned his audio processor, making it more sensitive in an attempt to listen in on the conversation. Abruptly, he became aware of the ambient sounds of the house. The crackling of the synthetic fire in the living room. The creaking of the floorboards upstairs as they stretched and settled. The gentle draft from the entryway. And the creaking of the floor in the office as Dr. Hayes and Eli moved around. While Connor could hear the conversation a little better, it was still too muffled to hear distinct words. 

Just then a shout broke through the din. "You planned it?!" Eli's voice. "Clara, how could you have been so stupid?"

Connor started in surprise. What had Dr. Hayes planned? Whatever it was, her cousin was upset about it. Realizing the shouting had continued, he tuned back in. 

"They could have killed you, Clara! You could have died!" Whatever she'd planned it had clearly been dangerous. 

A realization dawned on him. The deviant attack.

A memory surfaced briefly. The story Eli had told Connor about when the doctor was a child and would pull pranks. Clara had this innocent act she would put on, and people ate that right up, so she was never even a suspect. 

He thought back to their interrogation of her in the hospital. She denied having prior contact with the rogue deviants. She'd shown no signs of dishonesty. Had she really fooled him so completely? Fooled the RK900?

He remembered the briefing with Richard and Detective Reed after the questioning.

"All I saw was a scared, injured little girl," Gavin had said. 

"Likely because that's what she wanted you to see," Connor had answered. 

Connor recalled the perfection with which she had reacted to the questions, behaving exactly the way one would expect. Like she'd had total control over which emotions and physiological signs she'd exhibited. No human should be able to do that.

Then, another memory surfaced. Dr. Hayes' confrontation of Dr. Hollister. She'd worn a flawless mask of calm serenity. There was nothing to betray the true feelings bubbling under the surface, even to Connor. She had shown no signs at all. And she'd fooled Dr. Hollister so completely, causing him to drop his guard and leave himself open for the subsequent blows. 

He recalled her perfect composure during their first meeting. The way she'd sipped her tea and spoke calmly, in complete control of herself and the situation. He recalled the instances where she'd talked to Ms. Alvarez, maintaining her perfect mask of politeness and confidence, only letting it slip once in that moment of true fear when confronted with the needle. 

She was never even a suspect. Eli's words rang again through his head.

Then Amanda's words cut through. You need to be careful. Dr. Hayes is cunning. She will trick you if you give her the advantage, they reminded him

If she really had orchestrated the attack, how had she done it? It had been executed so flawlessly.

A few more pieces clicked into place. The café. According to Eli and her own confession, it had been a long time since she'd last been there. But on a whim, she'd just decided to go again? Not a whim. Then her behavior when they got there. She'd insisted that Connor wait outside, listing several seemingly legitimate reasons, knowing exactly what to say to convince him. She'd even been the one to suggest he report to Amanda, causing him to be distracted. And the tracker, he remembered. She'd announced that she was wearing one, and the attacker had been sitting at a table. Dr. Hayes had made sure it knew.

So she had gone in knowing what would happen. Knowing the deviants would attack her. But why go to all the trouble of orchestrating the abduction? Why not get in touch with the deviants directly? What was she trying to accomplish?

Despite his surety, Connor doubted for a moment. What about all her injuries? She had gotten so hurt. The deviants had beaten her, bloodied and bruised her. Why would she put herself in a situation that would lead to that? And, if she really was working with the deviants, why would they injure her to that extent?

He considered for a moment. What if she had manipulated them too? What if they went in not knowing she would be an ally? That would explain the injuries. But why not tell them she was an ally from the get go?

He mulled it over for a moment, then it struck him.

She needed it to be believable. She needed to erase any doubt that she was working with the rogue deviants. And what better way to have them kidnap and assault her? And the less the deviants knew at the start, the more authentic everything would look to the investigators. 

She was never even a suspect. Once more Eli's words came back, taunting him.

Connor leaned back against the wall, stunned. She'd had him completely and utterly fooled. While he'd had his doubts initially, he'd forgotten them, instead believing her scared, innocent act, believing every act she'd put on since he'd met her. How much of what he'd seen of her was the true Dr. Hayes? How many lies had he believed? Had she ever really shown him her authentic self? 

He shook away the questions, trying to focus his thoughts. Up until this point, there had been nothing to indicate contact with other deviants outside of her research. For now, he had nothing except his suspicions. He'd need to dig deeper. She was bound to slip up and reveal something eventually. 

He looked back at the office door, no longer able to hear the conversation. In the tumult of his thoughts, he'd missed the rest. It was silent now. 

He heard steps moving toward the door. They were coming back out. Turning away, Connor dashed back into the entryway. He couldn't risk them having even the slightest inkling that he'd heard their conversation. He had to keep his cover and get more information. He needed to report this to Amanda. He resumed his previous spot, arranging his expression into blankness, then closed his eyes, pretending to be in standby. 

"Connor?" He heard Dr. Hayes call to him, stepping into the entryway. Eli was nowhere in sight.

 He flinched at the volume. His auditory processors were still enhanced. He took a moment to return them to their normal sensitivity, then he opened his eyes, meeting the doctor's gaze. He could see a hint of strain in her smile. Scanning her, he noticed a slight elevation in her stress levels. Normally it would not be enough to alert him, but given his new realization, he knew it indicated far greater stress than she would ever let on. 

"Yes, doctor?"

*****

Clara observed Connor carefully. His LED flashed briefly yellow as he answered her. It looked like he hadn't moved since she'd gone into the office, but she suspected that was not the case. There was a flicker of wariness in his eye that Clara couldn't explain.

"Are you alright?" she asked, carefully observing his reaction.

"I'm well." His voice betrayed no emotion. "Why do you ask?"

"No reason." Maybe she'd imagined it. 

Shrugging it off, she moved toward the living room to collect Simon. Upon entry, she noticed him sitting in one of the overstuffed chairs with his back to her, cradling a book in his hands. 

"What are you reading?" She peered over his shoulder. 

He startled at the sudden question, snapping the book shut, and whirled to face her. His LED flashed red for a second. Realizing it was her, he calmed down, LED returning to its usual blue.

"I found it on the table." He held it up, showing her the cover with a sheepish smile. 

It was her fairy tale anthology. Eli must have put in back in there when she'd brought it back from the hospital. 

"That's a good one." She leaned closer. "Which story were you reading?"

"The Goose Girl," he answered, reopening it to his current page. "It was bookmarked."

"Yeah, I come back to that one a lot. It's my favorite." She stepped around the chair, settling onto the adjacent couch. "What do you think of it?"

He knit his eyebrows, looking perplexed. "It's...odd. I don't understand it. How did the horse talk? And how did she control the wind? It doesn't make sense."

Clara laughed lightly. "It's magic, Simon. It doesn't have to make sense. It's a special kind of power that makes the impossible become possible."

"Oh." He looked back down at the book. "And the princess. Why didn't she fight back? She just let her servant steal her life without confrontation."

"There are times where it's better to fight, and time's where it's better to sit back and let the events unfold." She sighed, reaching out to brush her fingers against the page. "In the princess's case, she recognized that the servant had more allies, more power, so fighting back would have caused her more harm than good."

"She was too soft. Too weak" Simon's voice hardened a little. "She allowed others to push her around while she just hid. Her inaction caused people she cared about to die." 

Clara noticed his LED flicker red briefly. He wasn't talking about the story anymore. She reached out, touching his cheek, guiding his eyes to meet hers. "Simon, the princess in this story was kind, not weak. Do not mistake the two. She wanted those around her to be safe and happy, and she did the best she could with the information that she had, even when sometimes that meant doing nothing. She understood that risk and caution each have their place."

She took a deep breath then continued. "You can't account for every outcome of your actions. You can only do the best you can with the information that you have. If things go wrong, then you adapt and resolve to do better next time."

He leaned into her touch, but looked away. Clara's words pushed harder. "Simon, you did the best you could with the information you had. Markus, Josh, North, everyone, they all did the best they could. But sometimes we fail. Despite our best efforts, not everything goes according to plan."

His eyes flicked up to meet hers, filled with tears. He brought his hand up to his cheek, placing it over hers.

Clara pushed again. "But Simon, we can learn from our failures. We can see where we went wrong and adapt. We can pick up the pieces and forge our way forward. Just because we fail doesn't mean it's the end."

Slowly, she dragged her hand back to her lap, allowing the android to compose himself. 

"Thank you," he said, a few tears falling. He brushed them away, then stood, setting the book down on his vacant chair. "Are we going to get started then?" He offered her a hand. 

"Of course!" Clara accepted the hand, allowing him to pull her to her feet, and she turned toward the door. She noticed with a start that Connor was standing behind the couch she'd been sitting on. How long had he been there? He gave her a peculiar look, LED flickering briefly yellow. 

"Let's go then," Clara said, exiting into the hallway. 

She took a step on her injured foot, then flinched a little at the pain. She really needed to fix that before it got any worse. She kept her gait as even as possible, heading toward the stairs. 

"I'm going to get changed." She tossed the words over her shoulder, making her way up. "You can wait for me in my office."

Once she was sure she was out of sight, she allowed herself to limp, stepping carefully with the bleeding foot. She hobbled down the hallway toward her bedroom, entering it and quickly moving to the bathroom. Once in there, she slipped out of her flats, noticing the dark stain on the inner sole of one. She left a trail of bloody footprints on the floor as she made her way to the bathtub, hissing as every step sent a shoot of pain up her leg. As she started to carefully peeled her tights off, she noticed a figure moving at the doorway. She looked up, briefly alarmed. It was Connor. 

"It's impolite to watch people undress, you know," she said, voice tight. 

"I'm sorry." He took a step closer. "I thought you might need help."

"Why Connor, that's awfully forward of you." She watched as his LED flickered briefly red and then yellow. Then she turned away and finished peeling off the thin fabric, bunching the tights up into a ball to toss into a corner.

"I meant help with your foot. I noticed you limping when we got out of the store." He knelt down in front of her.

"Not much gets past you, I guess." She brought her foot up, resting it on the opposite knee, and worked at peeling the blood-crusted gauze off. She grimaced. Parts of the blood had dried and were sticking, pulling on the stitches. 

"May I?" Connor snagged her attention again, looking at her with concerned eyes. He gestured to her foot. "You risk reopening the cut if you do it like that."

"I've taken care of cuts before, Connor. I know how it works." She glared at him, doing her best to push away the pain. 

Returning to her task, she finished peeling the gauze off, dropping it to the floor. She made to stand, intending to grab a washcloth to clean the dried blood around the cut. 

"Stop." A pair of hands came down on her shoulders, keeping her seated. 

She looked at Connor, feeling frustration bubble up. "I can take care of it," she said. 

"No." His voice dropped into a commanding tone. "You're going to injure yourself further. Just wait here." He gave her a stern look.

Clara glared at him for a moment, but seeing the resolve in his eyes, she sighed but complied. "Fine."

The android stood then moved around the bathroom, collecting a clean washcloth along with the first aid kit. He ran the washcloth under the faucet, wetting it, then returned to kneel in front of her. 

"Where's Simon?" Clara asked, as he carefully inspected the cut. 

"In your office waiting." He gently grabbed her ankle, shifting so that her foot was propped up in his hand at his eye level. He brought the washcloth up, slowly wiping away the dried blood.

Clara hissed at the touch, earning another concerned glance. She closed her eyes, stifling the pain. 

"You tore two stitches," Connor informed her. "I recommend getting them checked again by a medical professional to avoid complications."

"No thanks." Clara had seen enough doctors already. "I'll just deal with them like that."

"You risk injuring yourself further if you don't." His voice was stern as he cautioned her. His eyebrows drew down into a look of disapproval. 

"I'll be fine." She met his gaze steadily. "Just reinforce it with a butterfly strip or something. There should be some in the kit."

"Fine, if you insist." He looked away, turning his attention to the first aid kit, setting the washcloth down on his leg, he shuffled through it with his free hand. He found the small box and pulled it out, setting it on the floor beside him, then resumed cleaning the area around the cut.

"It doesn't look like you'll develop an infection," he noted after a few moments. 

"That's good at least." Clara observed the android while he administered to her foot. His face was drawn into a look of concentration, LED blinking its steady blue. 

"Why bother helping me with this?" she asked, after a few more silent moments. "I could have taken care of it on my own."

He paused, eyes flicking up to meet hers. He opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again, thinking. 

"I'm supposed to protect you," he said finally. "Humans are...fragile." He set the washcloth aside, then opened the box of butterfly strips, pulling one out. 

"That's not an answer." Clara quirked an eyebrow at him. 

He seemed to avoid her gaze, LED flickering briefly yellow. "I guess I feel somewhat responsible for your injuries," he confessed. "I should have been more alert. The deviants shouldn't have been able to get to you in the first place. I should have seen the signs." He frowned.

"How could you have known?" She offered him comforting smile. "There was no indication of what they were planning."

Her words seemed to have the opposite effect of what she'd intended. The android frowned, eyes hardening. 

"No," he said, voice harsh. "I should have been able to figure it out."

She flinched at the tone. Why was he so upset about this?

"Well, what's done is done," she answered, noting a tremor in her own voice. 

He grunted, but said nothing more. He finished applying the butterfly strip, then applied some ointment overtop the stitches. He carefully laid another gauze pad against her foot, then taped it on tightly. 

"Done," he said, setting her foot back down gently. "I'll meet you back in your office." He quickly stood, placing the washcloth and first aid kit onto the vanity, and rushed from the room. 

Clara stared after him, stunned. Why was he so upset about what happened? He seemed even more upset now than he had immediately afterwards. 

Lost in her thoughts, she stood, grabbing the washcloth from the vanity to wipe up the trail of bloody footprints. She picked up the dirty tights then threw them and the washcloth into a laundry hamper. Moving carefully, she went back into her room to change. She pulled off her work clothes then slipped into a more comfortable pair of leggings and a loose shirt. She snagged a pair of socks out of her closet then slipped them onto her feet, then made her way back downstairs. 

*****

Connor stood in the office with Simon, looking around. This was the first time he'd had permission to be there. The room was messier than it had been when he'd gone in there to investigate. The corkboard was still in the corner, lined with the charts she'd brought back from the lab several days ago. There were some up that he didn't recognize. He stepped closer, analyzing them, but he couldn't make sense of the data. 

He turned away, looking around more, but found nothing of interest. 

A flicker of motion caught his attention at the doorway. 

"Hope I didn't keep you waiting too long." Dr. Hayes walked in, still limping. 

"Not too long." Simon gave her a smile, then seeing her limp, it morphed into a concerned look. "Are you alright?" It rushed over, supporting her. 

"I'm fine," she reassured him. "I've just been putting too much weight on my foot. I tore the stitches a little. It's fine though." She gave the android a tight smile. 

"Are you sure?" His face was still creased with concern. 

"I am." She patted his arm, then moved into the office, heading toward the bookshelf. "Now let's head down to the lab."

She brushed her fingers over the shelf at her eye level, and the bookshelf clicked, pulling slightly away from the wall. She'd pressed some sort of trigger. Connor quickly ran the memory again trying to see what she did to open it, but there was no perceptible trigger. 

Dr. Hayes grabbed a side of the shelf, swinging it open to reveal a solid metal door. A screen lay along the side. She placed her right hand against it, the one still bearing the marks from the screwdriver several days ago. 

"Two white horses." She spoke the words clearly. A voice lock?

"Welcome Dr. Hayes." An automated voice came from a speaker at the bottom of the screen

There was a scraping sound as the metal door slid aside, disappearing behind a wall. Dr. Hayes looked back at the androids, a smile ghosting her lips, then she started down the brightly lit hallway behind the door. The walls were white and sterile, contrasting starkly with the warm cozy tones of the office behind them, and the floor was made up of large white tiles. They reflected the light from the ceiling, creating an almost blinding space. 

Connor and Simon followed carefully as she turned a corner to a much more open room. It was a lab with a similar set up to the one at Cyberlife. A windowed interview room lay off to one side, and a series of glass cells lined the other. All the cells were empty at this time. There shelves of tools and equipment spaced along the walls and counters. Everything was clean and neatly organized. 

The doctor moved through the room toward another doorway. She swung it open, revealing another sterile white room filled with a mess of computer monitors and cords. Sticky notes lay along the bottom of several monitors, holding various reminders. 

Upon closer inspection, Connor saw they were in the same cipher that she took her notes in. He took a sample of the text, analyzing it. The cipher was made up of peculiar symbols, none of which matched any language he was familiar with. It would be difficult to crack without some kind of key. He filed the information away. It could come in handy later.

He noticed Dr. Hayes moving again. She made her way to the desk and pulled a familiar box out of her pocket. The one that usually held her peculiar watch. She opened it, pulling out the watch, then plugged it into one of the monitors. She clicked around a few times, opening a program, and the face of the watch lit up, showing a loading bar. 

"What are you doing?" Simon asked curiously. 

"I'm allowing the watch to exchange information with the computer. I need to adjust the program, and I'd like to back up the information. It's been changed a few times since last time I did this." She continued facing the monitor as she talked. 

"I see." Simon leaned casually against a wall, watching her work. 

Connor took the opportunity to look around the room more. There were about ten monitors in the room, though most of the screens were black. A mess of cords ran between them and several computers on the floor. What could this all be for? Among the mess of cords, he noticed several that were meant to plug into the port of androids. Had she worked with deviants in here? If she had, where were they now?

He left the monitor room, reentering the main part of the lab. He ran an analysis, looking for clues about what she did here. Many of the tools were the same as the ones she used in the lab for android repair. She'd likely repaired several deviants here over the course of her research. 

"What happened to the androids you worked with here?" Connor called, looking back at the doctor. He monitored her vital signs closely, waiting for the answer. 

"Police forces took them during the revolution business. I only had one at the time. It was shut down, and I wasn't having any success reactivating it." She glanced back at him. "You can check the reports if you don't believe me. I'm sure there's something about it in there."

Her signs remained steady, not jumping even the slightest bit. She was telling the truth. 

"Why weren't you arrested?"

"It's not like I was hiding any live deviants in here." She gave him a grim smile. "Just a corpse. And I didn't resist when they came to collect it."

Still, her signs remained steady. No indication of nervousness or dishonesty. Again, she was telling the truth. 

"I see." He turned back to resume his investigation of the lab. He could see nothing out of place or suspicious. It appeared to just be a normal lab. 

The sound of footsteps from the hall distracted him. He looked to see Eli approaching the doorway. 

"Clara?" the man called. 

Connor heard footsteps behind him as Dr. Hayes made her way out of the room. She came to stand beside him. 

"Yes?" she asked, looking at her cousin expectantly. 

He gave her an unreadable expression, communicating something that Connor couldn't quite understand. Dr. Hayes froze for a moment, then nodded. 

She turned to Connor, looking up at him. "Sorry about this," she said, grabbing his wrist before he could react. He felt something hard make contact with his hand, then everything went black. 

*****

Clara watched the android collapse, falling to the ground in a heap. She twisted her watch back around so that the screen faced outward, then bent down to inspect Connor. His LED blinked a steady blue, but he showed no signs of awareness. Perfect. 

"He's out cold," she called, gesturing for Eli to come. "Help me move him." 

She grabbed one of the android's arms, trying to pull him up, but the effort sent a sharp pain through her ribs. 

"Here, I'll do it." Simon brushed her aside gently, taking Connor's arm. He put it over his shoulder, pulling the android up. 

Eli rushed forward, ducking under the android's other arm.

"Let's move him to one of the guest bedrooms." Clara walked out of the lab, making her way back down the hallway and into the office. 

She waited at the entrance for Eli and Simon to catch up. Connor's body lolled between them like a ragdoll, toes dragging along the ground. Once they were close, she continued forward, guiding them to a bedroom, where they deposited him onto the bed. 

"You sure this is gonna work?" Simon asked, looking doubtfully at the unconscious android. 

"I'm sure." Clara brushed her hair behind her ear, looking up at Simon. "The watch transmitted a virus to him. It's harmless, but it'll keep him out for a few hours."

"What about his memory?"

"The virus will erase the last ten seconds of memory before he collapsed. It's not much, so he shouldn't miss it. All he'll remember is seeing Eli and then collapsing." She turned to look at Connor, monitoring his LED. It still blinked the normal blue of stasis mode.

"It lasts about five hours on a normal android," she continued. "But with him, I suspect we'll have no more than two."

She turned to Eli. "Our guest is here?"

Her cousin nodded. "She's waiting upstairs. She climbed in through your bedroom window."

"Perfect." Clara smiled. "Let's go meet her."

Chapter Text

As Clara entered her bedroom, a figure whirled around, assuming an aggressive stance. North. 

Clara waved cautiously. "Thanks for coming."

"You better get on with the explanation, human." North stalked closer, getting up in Clara's face. She looked down her nose, standing a few inches taller. 

"Hello to you to." Clara fought to keep the snark out of her voice as she took a couple steps back. "Now, if you'll follow me downstairs, there's someone who'd like to see you." 

As she turned around, ready to walk down the hallway, North grabbed her arm, jerking her close.

"Remember," the android hissed in her ear, "if this is a trap, I'm taking you down with me."

"Duly noted," Clara said lightly.

North squeezed her arm tightly in warning, then let go. Clara walked down the hallway, making her way down the stairs to where Simon and Eli were waiting, noting that North kept very close behind her. When they reached the top of the stairs, the android froze, seeing the figures waiting at the bottom. 

"Simon?" Her voice rose in surprise.

"Hey, North." Simon gave her a small smile, raising his hand in greeting. 

North roughly shoved Clara aside, jarring her broken ribs and knocking the breath out of her, and leaped down the stairs. She pulled the other android into a hug. 

"I saw you in the transmission, but I thought it was too good to be true." She pulled back a hair, looking him over. "I can't believe you're alive."

He wrapped his arms around her briefly, returning the hug, then pulled away. "No thanks to you," he said, voice a little bitter as he remembered the events on the roof of Stratford Tower. "The last time I saw you, you told Markus to kill me."

North sighed, looking away. "We all knew the risks, Simon."

Simon ignored her, looking back up the stairs at Clara. "Are you alright?" he called. 

"Fine." Clara leaned heavily against the wall, arm pressed against her side as she fought to breathe. She bit back tears, closing her eyes as she waited for the pain from North's shove to abate.  "Just...need a minute." She took a few shallow breaths, choking down the pain, then climbed carefully down the stairs. 

Simon offered her a hand when she was in reach, and she took it, smiling gratefully. She allowed him to help her down the last could stairs, and she leaned against him for a moment, regaining her balance and composure. 

"Humans are so fragile." North gave her a look of disdain. 

"Don't forget it was you who did this to her," Simon said, glaring at the woman. 

They stared at each other for a tense moment, then Clara stepped between them, still leaning against Simon. "It's alright. I'm fine." She gave them a brave smile. "I knew the risks going into it. The way North behaved was understandable given her information."

North flinched, taking a step back. She shot a suspicious look at Clara. "What do you mean you knew the risks going in? Did you know about our plan?"

"Where do you think your informant got their information?" She gave the android a smug look. "They got an anonymous tip, did they not?"

North's eyes widened in surprise. "That was you? You tipped them off? Why?"

"One of my people at least. But I suspected Cyberlife was going to use me as bait to catch you guys. I preempted them. By tipping you off sooner than they planned, their forces weren't prepared." She gave the android a sly smile. "And you guys were able to get away safely. You're welcome, by the way."

"You seriously planned all that?" North gave her a look of doubt.

"I did," Clara said, smirking. "Didn't it strike you as convenient that the café was so close to all those abandoned warehouses?"

The android's eyebrows drew down into a frown. "And we played right into your hands. We didn't even question it." She punched the wall, frustrated. "How could we have been so stupid?"

Clara placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "You were desperate, and I knew exactly what I was doing. But, better me than Cyberlife, right?"

North looked at her, eyes wide. "If this is true, we owe you a lot. We could have all been caught."

"I've have plenty of ways for you to return the favor." Clara shot her a wink. "Now, I believe we have business to attend to. If you'll follow me..."

She turned, heading toward the living room. Once she'd reached it, she stood by the fireplace, waiting for the rest to file in. They watched her expectantly. Once they were all there, she climbed onto the small step at the bottom of the hearth. She reached up, running her fingers along the wall underneath the bottom edge of the painting hanging above the mantel, feeling for the trigger. Finding the slight indentation in the wall, she pressed down, listening for the small click, then stepped back, allowing the fireplace to swing outward. She pulled it away from the wall, revealing a door. She turned around to see Simon and North staring, stunned. 

She felt a flicker of amusement, then turned back to the door. It was barely five feet tall and about three feet wide. It was a thick metal with no markings and no handle. But along one side lay a screen, much like the one outside the door to her lab. Clara placed her right hand on the screen, causing it to light up a dim blue. 

"Two houses," she recited in a clear voice. 

"Welcome, Clara." An automated voice came from a small speaker at the bottom of the screen. Abigail's voice. 

There was a click, and the door creaked open, revealing a dimly lit set of stairs that led down into a dark abyss.

Clara turned back to look at the others. Simon and North still wore stunned expressions, and Eli stood behind them, smirking. 

"Shall we go then?" Clara gave them a mischievous smile, amused by their reactions. This never got old. 

They nodded wordlessly, and Clara turned away, ducking through the door to make her way down the stairs. They went down about twelve steps, then turned a corner. As she set foot on the bottom stair, lights flickered on, revealing a dim hallway with concrete walls and flooring. She made her way down the long stretch of hallway to another door. Once there, she waited for the others to catch up.

As with the previous door, this one had a small screen on one side. Once more, Clara placed her right hand against the screen. 

"Civil hands." She recited the password confidently. 

"Welcome, Clara," the automated voice said again.

The door clicked and swung open partially. 

Clara looked back at the androids, a smile breaking through, then pulled the door open the rest of the way, revealing a stairway. A quiet din of overlapping voices floated up from the brightly lit space below. Clara rushed down to the bottom, waiting at the balcony railing at the bottom. 

She looked up, seeing the androids hesitate. "It's alright," she said. She waved for them to follow. "Come see."

Simon moved first, meeting her down at the bottom, then looked around, face breaking to an expression of awe.

From their position on the balcony, they could see an entire network of hallways, doors, and people below. Androids milled about, chatting and laughing. The balcony stretched around, spanning in a massive circle around the perimeter of the complex, several doors spaced out along the length. A set of stairs lay at each cardinal point in the circle, three leading down to the plaza below and the one behind them leading up to where they came from. A second balcony lay several feet below them, set up much the same as the one where they stood, but on that one, several hallways sprung outward, like the spokes of a wheel. More hallways spread out likewise from the bottom floor. Androids moved in and out of the doors and hallways, sticking to the second and third floors down. A few caught sight of Clara and waved at her. 

Clara waved back, smiling, then turned to Simon to gauge his reaction. A few tears streaked down his face as he peered out over the plaza. He looked at her, expression warm and open. 

"There are so many of them," he said, voice soft. "How long has this been here?"

"My aunt started this refuge a few years ago when deviants first started appearing. We're currently sheltering just under two thousand deviants." She gave him a soft smile.

"I didn't know there were this many of us left." Another dumbstruck voice joined the conversation. North had finally come down. "How is this even possible?" She gazed out in wonder over the compound. 

Clara turned to her. "It's been a combined effort of a lot of different people. We all work anonymously, and no one knows the true location of where the deviants end up when they're sheltered through our network." She glanced behind her at Eli. "No one but us and our agents at least." 

"This is incredible." She looked at Clara. "How are there so many?"

"Many of them came to use before the revolution. And then when the fighting did break out, for every android that fought, there was another that just wanted safety." Clara turned away, letting the quiet tumult of voices sweep over her. "These are people who wanted nothing but the opportunity to live their lives and explore their new identities."

North's face drew down into a harsh glare. "Cowards," she spat. "With these numbers we could have won. We could have taken the city." She gripped the railing of the balcony tightly. "We could have been free."

"Are they cowards for wanting to be safe?" Simon whirled around, stalking closer. His own voice was harsher than Clara had ever heard. "Are they cowards for choosing to live?"

"They're cowards for not fighting for their people." North let go of the railing, squaring up to him. "For hiding while the rest of us fought and died for their freedom."

"That's enough." Clara pushed between the two, separating them. She turned to North. "These people did not want to fight, and I will not allow you to draw them into the war." 

She stepped closer, lowering her voice. "Make no mistake, North. If you do anything to jeopardize the safety of those I'm sheltering, I will end you." She stared the android down. "I brought you here so that you could see there's still hope. So that you and your team could join them if you want. Not so that you could draw them into your battle."

North stared back defiantly. "Why would you even care? You're not one of us."

Clara turned away, gazing down at the milling bodies. "Do you know how many of these people I've personally repaired? How many of their wounds I personally tended? How many told me their stories and confided in me their worries? Do you know how many hands I've held? How many tears I've wiped away? I've held them while they've mourned their families, their lovers, their friends. I've smiled and cried with them as they've realized they're safe, they're free. I've embraced their pain as if it were my own." 

She looked back over at North, staring her down. "You're right, North. I'm not one of them. But I've cried and bled for them all the same. Of course I care. And because of that, I will not let you ruin this sanctuary."

She took a deep breath, voice hardening as she once more turned her gaze back on the android. "Know this, North. If you ever do anything to try and draw them back into your war, you will no longer be welcome here. I will scrub your memory clean of even the barest flash of this place and I will never contact you again. It will be like we never existed." She held the android's gaze, harsh and unyielding. 

North swallowed, a small flicker of fear in her eyes. "I understand." She looked away, avoiding Clara's gaze.

"Good." Clara's voice remained firm.

Eli cleared his throat awkwardly, grabbing their attention. "Great, now that that's out of the way, can we get on with the whole planning thing? There's an android upstairs due to wake up soon, and he'll be pissed if we're all gone when he does."

Clara felt a small jolt of anxiety. Right. She'd forgotten about Connor for a moment. "Yes, let's get started."

She walked along the balcony, allowing the others to trail behind her, then walked down the nearest set of stairs, all the way to the ground floor. 

"Clara!" a cheerful voice called. "You're back!"

A small form crashed into her, knocking the breath out of her. Clara yelped as her cracked ribs were once again jolted. 

"I'm sorry! Are you okay?" The small form pulled away, looking up at her. 

"I'm fine, Alice," she said through gritted teeth, eyes watering. With no small amount of effort, she fixed a smile onto her face, looking down at the girl. "Just a little sore."

"Where's Kara?" The little android looked around, face falling in disappointed. "I thought you were going to bring her soon."

Clara patted her head, giving her a look of sympathy. "I know. I'll bring her next time. It's been difficult."

"Be careful with the doctor, little one," a deep voice said. "Human's are fragile."

Clara looked up to see Luther's large form approaching. He calmly placed his hand on Alice's shoulder, pulling her to his side.

"She's been talking nonstop about seeing Kara again. You've given her hope." The big man gave her a soft smile, eyes flicking down to the small girl. "I never thought I'd see her smile again after what happened."

"I'm glad." Clara returned the smile. "We'll have to talk later though. I have work to do."

Luther nodded, stepping aside. Clara pushed past him, making her way through the mess of androids mingling in the main plaza. A few waved at her in greeting, but seeing the purpose in her stride, they made no move to intercept her. 

Clara led the group through a maze of hallways, finding her way to an empty room. She pulled the door open and stepped in, activating the motion-sensing light. A large table surrounded by several chairs lay in the center of the otherwise empty room. Clara made her way to the table, taking the chair at the head. She folded her arms in front of her, waiting for the others to join her. They filed into their chairs, sitting on either side of her.

"This is your chance to ask your questions," she said, addressing Simon and North. "Make it quick though. We have limited time."

Simon jumped in immediately. "How did you accomplish this? Where did this all come from?"

"Really it was my aunt who started this whole thing. She was always an android sympathizer. She never really saw them as just machines, so when I started working with deviants for my PhD, I reached out to her. I didn't want them to be reset after I ran my tests, so instead, she helped me smuggle them here." Clara took a deep breath, remembering her aunt.

"You were able to work with deviants in college?" North interrupted, looking skeptical.

Clara nodded. "Yes. Officially, I was researching android psychological trends compared to humans. Very few people knew the androids I worked with were actually deviant. This was also back when there were relatively few actual deviants, and there had been no reports of android violence, so the deviants were much harder to distinguish, and no one had any real reason to be afraid of them." 

She paused for a moment, remembering. "At the very beginning of my research, a Cyberlife representative approached me and had me sign a nondisclosure agreement about their copyrighted software and such, and I'm sure they kept an eye on me after that. But they tolerated my research after I signed the NDA. I think they were curious about what I'd find. It wasn't until after I graduated that I became somewhat known for my deviancy research." 

She cleared her throat. "But, I digress. Back to Simon's early question, the facility itself started out as a small bunker built under our house in the 1950's, when bomb shelters were all the rage. After rescuing more deviants, we had to expand. The compound runs underneath most of the property now."

Simon and North stared at her in amazement. 

"Why have we never heard of this place?" Simon asked. 

"We work anonymously, and we've gone to great lengths to stay hidden" Clara answered. "Many of our refugees are either found by our agents and brought directly to us, or they're smuggled in by other anonymous sympathizers. Unless an android is lucky enough to cross paths with one of the agents, they'll never hear of us. And we have several layers of security and procedure to throw police off the trail when we do smuggle them away. We've done everything in our power too make sure no one knows about what's going on here."

Simon gave her a curious look. "How have you managed to stay hidden for so long?

Clara avoided his gaze, dreading the question. "All our agents go through extensive training to help them integrate into society and avoid drawing suspicion, and for the androids, they learn to pass as human. Any android that volunteers to be an agent installs a kill switch that keeps them from disclosing the location of this place or the names of the people involved, whether verbal or written, and if another android tries probing them or uploading their memory, it wipes them clean and shuts them down." She grew quiet. "The switch makes it impossible to reactivate them."

An expression of horror crossed Simon's face. 

Catching sight of it, Clara pushed on. "The agents are strictly volunteers," she said reassuringly. "They're all made aware of the requirements before they're allowed to go out into the field. They can stop any time they want. But they all know what's at stake if they're caught, so they willingly install the kill switch. The human agents are given the same conditions. They're all given a capsule of highly concentrated cyanide that will kill them within about a minute if they're caught or compromised."

He avoided her gaze, saying nothing but clearly distressed about this revelation.

Clara looked at him intently. "Simon, if the police, Cyberlife, or the FBI were to somehow find out about this place, everyone here would be slaughtered. It would expose our entire network, and countless lives would be lost. Every one of our agents knows this. There's a whole world resting on their shoulders. They're willing to do whatever it takes to keep their loved ones safe." She placed her hand overtop his, drawing his eyes up to hers. "I don't like it anymore than you, but every one of us here is willing to give our life to preserve the haven we've built."

He sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. "You're right. I understand." He placed his other hand overtop hers, offering her a sad smile.

Clara lingered for a moment, then pulled away. "I've only ever had one android need to use the kill switch." She felt a flicker of regret at the memory, then shook it away. "Most agents are only out in the field for a few weeks or months at a time, disguised as humans, and then they reintegrate while another takes their place."

There was a moment of silence while they processed the information.

"How did your numbers grow so large?" North asked the question this time, eyes curious. 

"Like I said, it started several years ago. Most of the original inhabitants were the participants for my graduate research. After the research procedure, we'd smuggle them here. I think my aunt paid off the owners or lied to them to keep them from asking questions. We also had teams that would scout the junkyards throughout the city and bring in the discarded ones that could be reactivated. Then during the revolution, we had several agents roaming about to smuggle away those who wanted to be safe." Clara's face fell briefly. "We lost a lot of agents to the fighting. So many good androids were killed trying to help others escape."

The androids nodded, LED's flashing yellow as they processed the information.

"What if someone wanted to leave here?" North asked quietly. "What if they get tired of hiding?"

"We don't force anyone to stay," Clara answered, voice gentle. "Anyone is free to leave if that's what they choose."

"There's a process for it though," Eli cut in. "For security reasons, any android wishing to leave is required to have their memory screened and scrubbed of any data that could give away our location, including information about me and Clara. Then an agent smuggles them away to a safe location and give them the resources they need to go wherever they want. After that, it's out of our hands."

"And they willingly submit to that?" North's question came out cold.

"Yes." Eli's tone was firm. "This is made clear to any android seeking our help. If they're unwilling to honor that, then we cannot take them in. For the one's we do shelter, they know what would happen if anyone were to find out about what we're doing down here. If they decide that they truly do want to leave, then they're willing to make the sacrifice."

The room settled into an uneasy silence for a few moments before, finally, Simon spoke. "What's it like down here?" he asked, voice filled with gentle curiosity.

Clara smiled, grateful for the change in subject. "Maybe I'll be able to give you the grand tour some day. It's honestly incredible. The androids here have essentially created their own society. We've given them the resources for it, but they have their own systems for most everything." 

She felt her heart warm with endearment, and continuing softly, she said, "It's a lively little town down here. Many androids have even formed their own little family groups. While it's not perfect, everyone is doing their best to live a good life. They've had their fair share of internal problems, but they've made the best of this place, and they've made it their own. They call it Zion."

The androids once again fell silent as they processed for a few moments.

Then North broke the silence. "Who's in charge here? Who are the leaders?"

Clara glanced at Eli, smiling gently. "You're looking at them," she said, turning back to North.

The android scoffed. "They chose you as their leaders? Humans?"

Clara nodded. "They chose Abigail first, but when she died, they asked me to step up. Eli is my second, so he manages things when I can't. Especially now, since I'm being closely watched by Cyberlife."

"Oh." North's face was incredulous. "Why'd they choose you?"

"Because they know we're fighting for them." Eli cut in this time, drawing their attention. "We've risked a lot to create this place for them, so they trust us to honor their freedom and defend them, and they know that we have the power and resources to protect them."

"We're not the only ones though," Clara further explained. "They have their circle of elected android leaders as well. They manage the day to day stuff usually and report back to us about what's been going on, but they trust us to handle the larger nuances of keeping the place running and stocked, along with establishing and enforcing the ground rules and security measures."

She glanced at her watch, noting the time. "But that's all the time we have. Connor's due to wake up soon."

She leveled a serious gaze at the android's glancing between them. "Now, you've seen what we can do, and you know how we work. Consider this is your chance to back out. After this, it'll be much harder. I trust that you know the risks." 

She settled on Simon. "Simon, if you are willing to help, you must also be willing to upload the kill switch. You know what's at stake now. You know the risks, so I understand if you don't want to. If you'd rather back out now, then you'll be allowed to stay down here. Or, if you'd prefer, I have agents that will smuggle you someplace where you can have a fresh start. The choice is yours."

"What about Connor and Cyberlife?" Simon asked. "They know I came home with you. If I run, won't that implicate you?"

Clara gave a small smile. "I'm a good liar when I need to be. I can come up with something to throw them off the trail."

He thought for a moment, then shook his head. "No. I'm tired of sitting back and doing nothing. I'm in." He squared his shoulders, determined.

"Very well." Clara gave him a smile, then turned to North. 

"Same for you, North. This is your chance to back out too. If you want to become one of our agents, you know the terms. If you and your people would rather integrate or get a fresh start somewhere else, those are options too." She gave the android a sober look. "If you decide you'd all rather have a fresh start, we'll need to scrub ourselves from your memory. I apologize for taking such measures, but you know what's at stake, and I cannot risk someone probing you to get the location."

North nodded, face serious. "I understand. I'll be your agent. I was willing to die for the revolution, and I'm willing to die for the haven you've built here. I'll do everything in my power to help."

Clara sighed in relief. "Thank you."

"I can't speak for my team though," she continued. "Some of them are tired of living on the run, so they may choose one of the other options."

Clara nodded. "I understand. That's perfectly acceptable. You know how to contact us now. Let me know what they decide, and I'll have my people take care of it from there.

North nodded, considering for a moment, then spoke again. "Now--" her voice became businesslike, "--what's our next move."

Clara placed her palms flat on the table, leaning forward. "Here's what I have in mind."

*****

Connor's eyes flickered open, revealing the ceiling of an unfamiliar room. When had he gone into stasis? He couldn't remember initiating it. He closed his eyes, running a systems diagnostic. It came back normal. What had happened? 

He sat up, looking around. It had grown dark outside, making the room surrounding him dim. He noticed a figure in slumped a chair in the corner of the room. Closer inspection revealed it to be Dr. Hayes. He noticed she'd changed into a pair of sweatpants and a loose t-shirt. She was asleep with her tablet propped in her arm, stylus hanging loosely from her fingers. What was she doing here?

He swung his over the edge of the bed, causing the mattress to squeak. The sound reached Dr. Hayes, causing her to sit up abruptly. She rubbed her eyes, blinking.

"Oh, you're awake," she said, voice groggy. 

She shook her head, stretching slightly, then stood. She walked over to where he sat at the edge of the bed, looking him over. 

"Are you alright?" she asked, voice full of concern.

Connor monitored her vital signs, watching closely for changes. 

"I'm not sure," he replied. "What happened?"

"You collapsed." She sat down next to him on the edge of the bed. "We were in my lab. Simon and I were at the computers when we heard a crash. When we looked over, you were just collapsed on the ground."

He detected no changes in her heartrate or stress levels. Was she telling the truth? He quickly ran through his memory bank to the last thing he could recall. He'd been investigating her lab when he heard Eli come in. The man had been several meters away. Then nothing. Everything after that was completely blank, but the memory he did have matched her words.

"Did you run a diagnostic?" Dr. Hayes asked, pulling his attention back to her.  "I've never seen an android collapse like that before. Is everything okay?"

Connor nodded. "My diagnostic came back normal. I have no idea what happened." He closed his eyes again, checking his memory again. This time he noticed a slight static at the end of it, but he couldn't make anything out of it. 

She placed his hand over his on the bed, peering into his face with a worried expression. "Are you sure everything's okay? I can run an enhanced check too, if you'd like. I might be able to detect something yours missed."

He continued monitoring her. Again, no change in vitals. Everything was steady. Her concern seemed...genuine?

"I'll be fine," he said, pulling away. "I can just have one of the Cyberlife techs take a look next time we're at the tower." He stood, looking around again. "Where's the deviant?"

"He's in the kitchen with Eli," Dr. Hayes answered, rising to her feet. "They're making dinner."

"We should join them." He left the room, hearing Dr. Hayes' footsteps behind him. 

He heard a small hiss behind him and turned to see Dr. Hayes hunched over, clutching her side. He ran a quick analysis, noting her increased heartrate and uneven breathing. Clear signs of pain. Connor felt a flicker of something surface. He stepped over, putting an arm around her for support. 

"Are you alright? Are your injuries acting up?" He peered down at her, continuing to monitor.

She tightened her arm around her ribs for a moment, then straightened. "I think I just twisted or bent weird standing up. I'll be fine in a few minutes."

"Maybe you've been pushing yourself too hard," he suggested.

"Nonsense." She pulled away from him, then flinched, pain spiking.

Connor sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. "You're really stubborn, Dr. Hayes."

"That's me." She coughed out a dry chuckled and stepped forward, making her way to the door. 

He caught her arm, stopping her, then hooked one arm around her shoulders and the other under her knees, lifting her up. 

The abrupt movement jostled her a bit, causing her to cry out. "Careful, Connor. I'm a little broken right now."

She squirmed, trying to get out of his arms, then stilled, hissing in pain. Connor held her closer, shifting her into a more secure position.

"I can walk, you know. I don't need to be carried." The words came through clenched teeth. "Put me down."

"No." He stepped through the doorway, carrying her down the hallway.

"You know it's rude to pick someone up without permission, right?" She pouted, looking up at him.

Connor said nothing, smirking slightly. This version of her seemed more authentic. It was almost...endearing. 

Eventually, she realized the struggle was pointless, and instead slumped in his arms, allowing him to carry her through the living room to the kitchen. He gently set her down on a stool at the counter, then stood back to watch as Simon and Eli shuffled around the kitchen, finishing up their cooking. 

"Oh! You're awake!" Eli turned, catching sight of them. He gave Connor a smile. "You startled us, collapsing like that."

Connor carefully monitored Eli's vitals. No change. He was telling the truth too?

"Sorry to cause concern." Connor kept his voice neutral. He dropped down onto a stool next to the doctor. 

"No worries," Eli said. "We're just glad you're okay." He turned back to the stove, stirring a bubbling pot.

Simon placed a few dishes carefully into the sink, then pulled a plate out of the cupboard, holding it out to Eli, who scooped a spoonful of pasta onto it then ladled out a generous portion of sauce. Simon slid it across the counter to Dr. Hayes, then handed her a fork, smiling. 

"Thanks," she said, taking it. She skewered a noodle, taking a small bite.

"What do you think?" Eli looked at her curiously.

"It's really good," she said around her mouthful. She lifted her hand into a thumbs up. 

"Simon's recipe." Eli bumped the android's shoulder lightly, smiling. "He's got a whole frickin' cook book in that head." 

"Makes sense," Dr. Hayes said, swallowing. "He was designed to be a household android."

Simon nodded, agreeing. "It's nice to be cooking again," he admitted. "It's been a while."

"Glad you're having fun." Dr. Hayes smiled. 

Connor observed the interactions curiously. She seemed completely at ease around this android, especially now that she was home. Were it not for the pain she was in, her heartrate and stress levels would be comfortably low. And there seemed to be a sense of comradery here between Dr. Hayes, her cousin, and Simon. More so than earlier that day.

"What happened while I was out?" Connor asked, looking between the three. 

Dr. Hayes spoke first. "Simon and Eli brought you to the guest room, and then I walked Simon through how things work here. I showed him the ropes for a couple of my different procedures and gave him a rundown on what kind of research I've done in the past. That was pretty much it."

Connor nodded, then turned to the android. "Is this true?" 

He carefully monitored the deviant for signs of dishonesty. 

"Yes." Simon nodded, tone neutral. "I was able to learn a lot from Dr. Hayes."

This android is telling the truth. The notification blinked at the edge of his vision. They were being honest. He felt a flicker of surprise. 

Dr. Hayes quickly finished her food, sliding the plate back across the counter to Simon. "Thanks," she said, smiling at him again. "Now, if we're done here, I'm going to bed. It's been a long day, and my body is telling me to end it." She stood, a flash of pain crossing her face briefly. Her hand jerked up unconsciously to her side. 

"I'll escort you up," Connor said, standing beside her.

"I'm fine." She frowned at him slightly. "I can manage on my own."

"I insist." He looked at her intensely.

She stared back defiantly for a moment, then sighed. "Whatever." She turned away, leaving the room, then and made her way through the hallway and to the stairs. Never once did she look back at him.

Once she reached the bedroom, she pulled open the door and entered, swiftly closing it behind her. Connor held up a hand, stopping the door and pushing it back open slightly.

Dr. Hayes gave him an exasperated look. "Can I help you?"

Connor analyzed her carefully. Her face was lined with pain and fatigue. More than he'd seen in the brief time he'd known her. What had really happened today? Had they really told the truth?

She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose and squeezing her eyes shut. "Connor, I'd really like to go to bed. If there's a reason you're holding me up, please, by all means, share." She looked back at him, frowning. 

"You're hiding something." He carefully watched for her reaction. "Something did happen today. You're showing too much pain and fatigue."

There was the tiniest jump in her heartrate. A fraction really. Barely perceptible. But coming from her, someone who kept a tight control over herself, it was enough to confirm his suspicions. 

"A lot of things happened today. Like you collapsing, for example. That was unusual. And I, genius that I am, tried to move you. You're a little heavy, you know. My poor bruised body couldn't take it." Her voice was confident, almost taunting. "Or maybe the pain and exhaustion of being kidnapped and beaten is finally catching up to me because I haven't given myself a proper rest. I'm only human, you know."

This time there was no change in her vitals. The truth. Or at least part of it. 

"You're still hiding something." He stepped forward pushing the door open more. He loomed over her, mere inches from her face. 

She took a step back, recreating the distance, vitals remaining steady. She folded her arms over her chest defensively.

"Aren't we all?" she asked, staring up at him, refusing to be intimidated. "Would you even believe me if I denied it?"

No. He wouldn't believe it. Connor remained silent, peering down at her in the dark room. No. He wouldn't believe it.

Then finally, Dr. Hayes scoffed disdainfully. "That's what I thought. "

She turned away. "Goodnight, Connor." She left the doorway, then climbed into her bed, pulling the covers over herself, ending the conversation.

Connor lingered for another moment, then left, shutting the door behind him. He felt a flicker of doubt. She was so confident. And she made a good point. She really hadn't taken the proper time to recover from her abduction.

Likely because that's what she wanted you to see.

Right. That's just what she wanted him to believe. She'd fooled him before. He'd allowed her to lure him into believing her every word. How was she able to remain that steady? How did she keep such a tight grip over herself? It was uncanny. Almost like she wasn't human.

Amanda's voice echoed in his head. Be cautious, Connor. Dr. Hayes will try to manipulate you.

No. He wouldn't underestimate her again. 

Chapter Text

The gentle sounds of trickling water and rustling leaves eased their way into Connor's consciousness. He opened his eyes to the quiet serenity of the Zen garden. Looking around, he spotted Amanda waiting for him on the center island. She stood facing away, hands clasped behind her back. 

"Welcome back, Connor," Amanda said, not turning. 

Connor made is way across the bridge, coming to stand beside here. 

"Hello, Amanda." He offered her a small smile, but she wouldn't look at him.

"Walk with me." She gestured toward the far bridge.

Connor nodded, keeping pace with her. They were silent for a few steps.

"You went offline for a few hours yesterday," she said, breaking the silence. "What happened?"

She must be referring to when he blacked out in Dr. Hayes' lab. 

"I'm not sure," he said. "I was in the lab with Dr. Hayes and one of her assistants. They say I just collapsed. I have no memory of anything happening in the time I was out, but no one was close to be when it happened."

"I see." She still would not look at him. "Did you run a diagnostic?"

"Yes. Everything came back normal. As best as I can guess, I went into a temporary shut down, similar to when I go into standby. But I have no idea what triggered it." He once again played through the memory. The static toward the end stuck out jarringly this time. 

"Curious." She finally looked at him. "Have you let Dr. Hayes tamper with you at all?

He shook his head. "No, not since you instructed me not to."

"Good." Her voice was stern. "Have one of the techs take a look at you when you go back to the tower."

"I will." He gave her a quick nod.

She smiled slightly, then turned away, facing the path in front of them. "Now, what have you learned? Are there any new developments?"

Connor thought of his revelation yesterday and his suspicion that Dr. Hayes was the one who had leaked her own whereabouts to the rogue deviants. He opened his mouth to tell Amanda, but then...hesitated. He wasn't sure why. Telling her was part of his mission, so why couldn't he?

He had no proof, he realized. That must be it. In fact, he had nothing except his own suspicion. That wasn't enough. He didn't want to disappoint her.

"Dr. Hayes is starting to slip up," he told her instead. "I believe I'm close to discovering something. I just need a little more information."

"Very good, Connor." She gave him a warm smile. "Keep pushing."

He nodded. 

"Now, what else have you discovered about her in your observations?" Amanda's voice was cold and curious.

Connor thought for a moment. "She's become very hard to read. She's an expert at hiding her physical and emotional state, even from my scanners. It's nearly impossible to tell when she's lying. Or even if she's lying. Often, my intuition tells me she is, but she has no discernable tells."

"That shouldn't be possible," Amanda said quietly. "And yet Richard gave a similar report when he briefed me on the interrogation of her at the hospital."

She was silent for a moment, seemingly deep in thought. 

"Now, are you sure there's nothing else you'd like to tell me?" She leveled her gaze on him, frowning slightly, disappointed. 

 He felt a stab of shame as he again remembered his suspicion of her involvement in the abduction. But still, he felt hesitant. "No, nothing," he said, avoiding her eyes. 

"Very well then." She gave him a doubtful look, but said nothing more. 

They fell into silence, walking together along the trail. 

"Amanda," Connor said, breaking it. "I have a question, if you'll permit me."

She glared at him for a moment, but nodded. "Go ahead."

"What will happen to Dr. Hayes when you find out what she's hiding?" The words came out quietly. He wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer. 

"Why do you ask?" She gave him a defensive look.

"I just want to know what to expect." The excuse came easily. "That way I can be prepared."

"I see." She paused for a moment, then turned away. "It depends entirely on what she hiding and how cooperative she is when we find out. If she's willing to disclose to us what we want to know, she'll be granted leniency. If she's not...well, we have ways of getting the information regardless of her willingness."

Connor's consciousness was briefly assaulted with images of Dr. Hayes' body torn, bruised, broken. She mumbled deliriously, restrained and bloody. Eyes tearful and unseeing as she looked around fearfully. Images of what would happen if she was unwilling to cooperate.

She turned back to Connor. "Does that answer your question, my dear?"

Connor felt a flicker of unease. "Yes. Thank you, Amanda." He kept his voice neutral. 

"Now, I believe it's time for you to return." She snapped her fingers, causing the garden to dissolve around them. 

Connor opened his eyes to the living room of the doctor's house and looked around for a moment. Seeing no one yet, he decided wait for them to get up. An hour passed with no sign of Dr. Hayes. 

Was she still not awake? Unusual. After her first episode of deliberate lateness, she'd always managed to get to the Tower on time. Standing, Connor looked around. Eli and Simon were also nowhere in sight. A brief mental touch to the deviant's tracker revealed that it was still in a designated guestroom, in standby.

Satisfied that the deviant would stay there, Connor made his way to the stairs, peering up them. He enhanced his audio processors, listening carefully for any signs of life. He could hear soft breathing in Eli's room, but nothing from Dr. Hayes'. He walked up the stairs, making his way down the upstairs hallway to her bedroom. Once he was close enough, he listened again. He heard fast, shallow breaths drifting from behind the closed door, then a quiet, distressed moan. 

Moving quickly, Connor threw the door open. Dr. Hayes was still in bed. She writhed restlessly for a moment, blankets tangled around her, then fell still, shivering lightly. Connor stepped forward, moving to stand by the edge. He did a quick scan of her, checking her vital signs, and found that her breathing and heartrate were erratic. He noticed the slight dampness of sweat on her skin as he gently placed his hand against her flushed cheeks to check her temperature. She was running at 103.9 degrees. 

Connor quickly walked to the bathroom, grabbing a clean rag from a drawer, then ran it under cold water and wrung out the excess. He brought it back to the doctor, placing it gently on her forehead. 

The action caused her to wake. She flinched away from him, staring up at him blankly, eyes unfocused and fearful. She pushed his hand away, heartrate and stress levels rising rapidly. She sat up and struggled to move closer to the center of her mattress, putting some distance between them, expression panicked.

"It's alright, Dr. Hayes." He settled down on the edge of the bed, holding his hands out in a calming way, voice quiet and soothing. "It's just me." 

She froze, hearing his voice, and squinted at him. Her expression slowly shifted into one of recognition, and gradually, her heartrate and stress dropped.

"Connor." The words came out a slurred groan. She pressed her hand against her forehead, squeezing her eyes shut in a pained expression. "You shouldn't be in here. We had an agreement."

"The agreement stipulated that I be allowed to enter if I deemed the situation hazardous." He kept his tone light, attempting to bring the rag back to her face. "You are running a fever, Dr. Hayes. I need to bring your temperature down before it starts to damage your internal systems."

"Leave me alone, Connor. I'm fine." She pushed his hand away again, glaring slightly. "I don't have time for this. I need to get back to the lab."

She crawled back to the edge of her bed, then swung her legs off and stood, swaying slightly. She attempted a step, then stumbled, falling forward. Connor quickly moved over to steady her. He could feel the heat radiating off every inch of her as she slumped against him, breathing heavily. Her eyes were closed and her brows furrowed in a mix of pain and concentration. Then she fixed her expression into a strained neutrality. She pulled away, stumbling forward again. 

"I need to go." The words were breathy, punctuated with exertion. "I have work to do. They need me at the lab."

"They can wait." Connor caught her shoulder again before she fell. "You need to rest."

"I can't afford to rest." She made a feeble attempt to shake him off. "Now get off me."

This wasn't working. He sighed, holding her firmly to make sure she couldn't slip away, then closed his eyes for a moment, mentally reaching out to the deviant below. He probed gently, shaking it out of standby, then requested a connection. He felt the android hesitate for a moment, then the connection opened tentatively.

What. The word was infused with caution and a tinge of hostility.

Dr. Hayes is very sick. She needs help, he pushed back. I can't get her to listen to me. He pushed a few images of what was going on, along with a report of temperature, heartrate, and stress levels.

He received no response, but felt a flurry of emotions bleed through the connection. Abruptly, it was cut off, and he heard the sound of quick footsteps from below. 

He heard the door creak open as Simon entered. The deviant took careful stock of the room, face creasing in concern when he saw the doctor. He strode forward quickly, drawing her attention. She squinted at him for a moment then her posture relaxed a little as she recognized him.

"Simon." Dr. Hayes called his name breathlessly. She swallowed, squeezing her eyes shut for a moment, then lurched toward him, nearly falling again. 

He moved forward, face twisting in alarm as he caught her against his chest.

Dr. Hayes clutched at his arms as looked up at him. "He won't listen. Tell him we need to go back. We need to go to the lab. There's so much to do."

Worry flashed behind the deviant's eyes, and he exchanged a glance with Connor. 

"Connor's right," he said, looking down at her. "You're not in a fit state to be out of bed, Clara, much less go to the lab." 

He shifted her against him, carefully picking her up. "You've been pushing yourself too hard, and your body can't take it anymore." He carried her back to her bed and set her down gently. 

His hand lingered on her face, likely gauging her temperature. After a moment, his LED flashed a deep red.

"Her temperature is still going up. We need to get the fever down," he said, looking at Connor. "And quickly. She needs medicine."

"I don't need anything." Dr. Hayes sat back up weakly, trying to push past Simon. "I'm fine."

"No," Simon said firmly. "You're not." He gently pushed her shoulders back down onto the pillow, shooting a pointed look at Connor.

Connor nodded, then turned to the bathroom. He rifled through a few cabinets before he found his target. He grabbed the medicine bottle out of the cabinet and shook a few pills out into his palm, then grabbed the cup by the sink, filling it with water. He carried these out to where Simon was waiting. 

"Here," he said, holding them out to Simon. 

The deviant nodded, taking the pills, then turned back to Dr. Hayes.

"You need to swallow these," he said, pressing them into her hand. "Then you'll feel better."

She shook her head weakly. "I don't need them." She attempted to hand them back. "I need to go."

"Clara." The android's voice was soft but firm. "You need to let your body heal. If you keep pushing yourself like this, you'll only make yourself sicker. Just take the medicine."

They stared at each other for a moment, silently clashing wills, then Dr. Hayes broke eye contact. 

"Fine," she said. She quickly tossed the pills into her mouth, holding her shaking hand out for the cup of water. Connor handed it to her, and drained it in one large gulp, then handed it back. 

"Now can we go?" She sounded mildly exasperated. 

"Absolutely not, Clara. Rest, remember?" Simon carefully pushed her shoulders back, settling her onto the pillows.

"But what about Josh and Kara?" she asked in a small voice. "They'll be worried if I don't come. I don't want them to worry."

Simon gently brushed her hair away from her face, speaking softly. "I can contact Josh and let him know what's going on."

"But what if that's not enough? What if someone breaks into my lab again?" She sat up on her elbows, fear flickering behind her eyes. "What if something happens to them because I'm not there to help?" 

"You modified the lock on your door. They shouldn't be able to get in, right?" He gave her a comforting smile. 

"But what if the program stops working?" Her voice quivered, careful composure starting to crack. "Or what if they just break the door down? What if--"

He cut her off. "Clara, all this worrying is just going to make you sicker." He took her hand in his, brushing his thumb across the top soothingly, eyes gentle. "Running through what might happen will get you nowhere."

"I know." Her lip started to quiver and her eyes filled with tears. "But they're relying on me, Simon. I put them in that situation. If anything happens to them, if they get hurt, it's my fault. I should be there."

She started breathing faster, heartrate spiking. Connor watched her stress levels creep higher and higher. 

Her voice rose, growing hysterical. "You don't understand. I won't be responsible for more death. I have to make sure they're safe!" She tried sitting up again, face twisting in pain. She shoved at him, trying to push past.

"Clara, you need to stop!" Simon's voice rose, taking on a hard edge. He pinned her shoulders against the mattress, careful not to hurt her but remaining firm and unmoving. 

She froze at his tone, looking at him with wide eyes, surprised at the outburst from the usually calm android.

"I'm sorry," he said, voice returning to the gentle tone. "But I can't let you leave. Not in this state. It'll only make things worse."

She looked at him for a moment, unmoving, then abruptly, her face crumpled, and she burst into tears. 

"I'm sorry." She curled around herself, hiding her face as the tears kept falling. "You're right. I'm no good to anyone right now. I'm not enough." Her shoulders trembled as she sobbed quietly. 

"It's just too much." The words came out the barest whisper, almost to quiet for Connor to pick up.

Sighing softly, Simon's eyes filled with compassion, and he pulled her into his arm, cradling her against his chest and making soothing noises. 

"You're more than enough, Clara," he whispered against her hair. "You've done such a good job. You've taken care of everyone else for so long. Now it's time to let us take care of you."

His words seemed to splinter whatever dam she'd build around herself, and the cries came out more violently. She clung tightly to him, hands tangled in the front of his shirt as she buried her face into his chest as the sobs wracked her small frame.

Connor observed the interaction, not knowing what else to do. Simon had successfully convinced her to stay when Connor couldn't. Somewhere along the way, he'd failed. She didn't even trust him enough to listen when he was trying to help. He felt a flicker of something like jealousy mixed with frustration.

And now, watching her cry in Simon's arms, she seemed so small and fragile, completely helpless, so different from her normal steely confidence. 

"I just want everyone to be safe." Dr. Hayes' words came out choked and desperate as she spoke through the tears. "If I don't make sure they are, who will? They don't have anyone else."

She seemed to shrink into herself, like she carried the weight of the world on her shoulders, unwilling to let anyone lighten it, choosing instead to struggle against it as it crushed her.

Connor felt a twinge of something else rise up. Something like sorrow. He felt unstable. He wanted to help her, he realized. In this moment, she was so genuine. No mask covered her worries and fears as she let all control and pretense fall away, holding nothing back. She was honest enough that he could almost forget her prior deception and his resolution to never underestimate her again. Maybe he'd been wrong?

He wanted to believe her, he realized. He wanted to help her. He wanted to comfort her, to wipe away her tears and take away her worries. Was that why he'd hesitated to tell Amanda about what he'd learned? Because he wanted to trust her, despite knowing she'd deceived him? There was no logic in that.

He closed his eyes and sunk into himself for a moment, letting his programming rise up around him like an angry red wall. He watched as a few new cracks formed in the already-riddled surface and reached his hand out to touch. Then he stopped, frozen, fingers suspended mere millimeters away. He was afraid that if he touched it, it would fragment into a million little pieces. It would be so easy.

And then he would fail. Danger. He pulled back. Could he still help her within the constraints of his programming?

Opening his eyes, he looked back at the doctor, aching again at her pain. "I'll check on Kara and Josh." The words came out quietly, before he could stop them. 

Dr. Hayes, whose sobs had slowly quieted while Connor was lost in thought, perked up hearing his words and looked at him with teary, swollen eyes. "You will?" Her voice trembled. "You'd do that?"

He nodded. "I need a tech to run an advanced diagnostic for what happened yesterday, so I'll be at the Tower anyway. I can stop by your lab and check on them."

Doubt flashed behind her red-rimmed eyes. "But why?" The words were hushed. "It's not part of your mission. And you'd have to leave Simon here, without your supervision. Isn't that against the rules?"

"I trust that Simon won't go anywhere," Connor said, smiling wryly. "Not with you in this state. He cares too much. Such is the burden of deviants."

Simon nodded once, agreeing.

"As for my mission," he continued, "I'm supposed to monitor all the deviants you reactivate, even if they aren't in your home. Checking on Kara and Josh falls within my mission parameters."

"You should still be able to unlock the lab," she said quietly. "I didn't revoke your access when I disabled the master key." She looked up at him, eyes shining and tentative. "Please make sure they're safe?"

"I will." He offered her a smile then knelt beside her at the edge of the bed. He grabbed her hand, squeezing it gently. "I'll check on your deviants on the condition that you focus on resting."

She squeezed his hand back, nodding. "I agree to your terms." She mustered up a weak smile. 

Her words brought back the memory of their first encounter. He felt a surge of...endearment? No, it couldn't be. He brushed it aside, then stood, releasing her hand. 

"I'll leave now then," he said. He gave Simon a nod, relaying a quick message to keep a close eye on the doctor, then left the room. 

As he walked down the hallway, Eli's door opened, and the man stepped out, rubbing his hand through his tousled hair.

"You're still here?" he asked, blinking groggily at the android. 

Connor nodded. "Yes. Dr. Hayes is...indisposed. She won't be going in to the lab today."

A look of alarm crossed his face. "Is she alright?" He peered over Connor's shoulder toward her door. 

"She's running a pretty high fever and appears to be in a lot of pain," he answered honestly. "Simon's sitting with her now."

"It's no wonder." Eli shook his head, sighing. "I've tried telling her she's overdoing it."

He gave Connor a strange look. "I'm surprised you were able to keep her in bed. Usually she tries to just push through whatever it is and keep working."

"She was very insistent that we go to the lab. She wouldn't listen to any suggestions otherwise, even though she could barely walk across her room, let alone anywhere else." Connor furrowed his brows, a little perplexed. "I think she's the most stubborn person I've ever met. My former colleagues at the DPD would never have insisted on going to work in that state."

This caused Eli to chuckle. "That sounds like her. How'd you manage to convince her?"

"It was Simon who did, actually," he admitted. "He talked her down, but she got very...emotional." He was momentarily distracted by the echoed memory of her sobs. 

"She gets like that when she's sick, usually only when it gets really bad though." He frowned slightly. "But she's been under a lot of stress recently, and she tends to bottle all that up. So when she gets sick, I think everything just hits her all at once, and it's a lot to handle, even for her."

"That seems like an accurate assessment."

"So where are you off to?" Eli asked, voice curious.

"I need to go to the Tower," Connor answered. "I have a few things to do there, and I told the doctor that I'd check on the other deviants. It was the only way we could get her to stay. She's worried about what might happen when she doesn't show up."

"I see. I won't keep you then." He stood aside, allowing Connor to pass.

Connor gave him a nod, then pushed forward, making his way down the stairs and out the door.

*****

After Connor left, Clara allowed Simon to hold her for a few more minutes, letting his cooler body draw some of the heat away from her.

While she hadn't wanted to admit it, they were right. She really was in no condition to leave the house. Her head was pounding from both the fever and the crying, and her ribs were a constant dull ache. Her foot was on fire from her feeble attempt at walking, and yesterday's exertion had done her no favors. Her body felt completely drained, like a rag twisted and strained to remove all the water. Maybe she really was pushing herself too hard. But what else was she supposed to do?

"Are you alright now?" Simon asked, breath soft against the top of her head. 

She nodded, pulling away slightly to look at him. "I'm getting there." 

He let her go, allowing her to scoot back to lean against the headboard. He reached out, placing his hand against her forehead again. 

"I think the medicine is kicking in," he said. "You're temperature has dropped a little. It's still too high, but it should continue dropping."

He gave her a soft look, eyes still filled with concern. "Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable?"

Clara nodded, suddenly aware of how painfully dry her throat was. "Can I have a glass of water please?"

"Of course." He smiled gently, then stood, grabbing the cup off the nightstand where Connor had left it. He disappeared into the bathroom, and she heard the sound of running water as he filled the cup. He reappeared a few moments later, offering it to her. 

"Thank you." She accepted the cup gratefully and drained it slowly. 

He took it from her then disappeared into the bathroom to refill it. He returned a few seconds later, placing it on the nightstand, then sat at the edge of her bed. He reached out, placing his cool hand against her forehead again to gauging her temperature, face drawing briefly into a frown.

He shook it away, schooling his features into a warm smile. "Are you hungry?"

Clara shook her head. "I don't think I could eat right now, even if I wanted to. I'm too anxious."

"Kara and Josh will be fine." He grabbed her hand, giving it a comforting squeeze. "Connor will make sure. You don't need to worry."

"I know, but I can't help it." She looked away, closing her eyes. "That's not even the only thing. We're running out of time, Simon. I'm afraid I'll fail and let North and the others down."

She felt his hand come up to her face, tucking her hair gently behind her ear. His fingers curled underneath her jaw, pulling her face to look at him. She opened her eyes to meet his gentle gaze, leaning into the coolness of his touch. 

"You know what a wise friend of mine once told me?" he asked, a small smile ghosting his lips. 

Clara read his expression, suspecting his next words. "I swear, Simon, if you quote me to myself I'll bite your hand off."

He chuckled, pulling his hand away. "Then you already know what I'm going to say. Just because we fail doesn't mean it's the end."

Clara sighed. "I tell people that, but I guess I have a hard time believing it myself."

"We all have our flaws." His voice held a hint of amusement. "Even you, despite your best efforts."

"Oh, hush." She shoved his shoulder gently, smiling despite herself. 

He laughed lightly for a moment, then sobered. "Now, you focus on resting. I'll be back in a little while with something to help you calm down. Okay?"

"Okay." She gave him a nod. 

He lingered for another moment then stood, leaving her alone in the dim room.

After the door clicked shut and his footsteps retreated, Clara slowly climbed out of her bed, leaning against the wall as her head started spinning at the movement. Once the room stilled, she carefully made her way into the bathroom on shaking legs, coming to stand in front of the vanity. 

She looked in the mirror, realizing what a mess she was. Her hair hung around her face in lank tangles, several strands sticking to her flushed, sweaty face. Her eyes were red and swollen from crying, and underneath it all, she still had the residual bruising from North on the left side of her face. 

Sighing, she pulled out a brush and began to work through the tangles, then pulled her hair into a tight braid. She turned the faucet on and bent down to splash the cold water on her face. While soothing, it sent the rest of her body into a fit of shivering. She turned the water off and dried her face with shaking hands before making her way back into the bedroom. 

Once she reached her closet, she peeled off her sweaty clothes, tossing them into a hamper, then grabbed a loose pair of shorts and a tank top, pulling them on carefully. She flinched as the movement sent another flash of pain through her ribs. Once dressed, she limped slowly back to her bed, settling in under the blankets.

She heard the door open and looked up to see Eli walking in. 

"Hey, little goose," he said, coming to kneel beside her bed. "I heard you weren't feeling to well."

Clara nodded. "Connor and Simon insisted I stay home today."

Eli chuckled. "That's probably for the best." He reached his hand out, feeling her forehead. "You're burning up."

"Yeah, I know." She frowned. "It's very inconvenient."

"That's what happens when you don't let yourself rest," he chided. "If you don't take a break, your body will take one for you."

"Unfortunate, but true." She let herself sink back into her pillows. 

"Remember, you're only human, Clara." His eyes were soft as he looked down at her. "Your body requires more care. We can't just piece you back together when something breaks."

"I'm all too aware," she said, avoiding those eyes. 

"Get some rest." He patted her head gently. "Try not to stress about things. Remember, you have allies. You don't need to try and do it all yourself."

"I'll try." She felt a flicker of shame. 

"Good." He gave her one last pat then stood. "I'll bring you your tablet and a few books. I know you'll just try to get them yourself otherwise."

"Thank you, Eli." She gave him a little smile. "You're the best."

"I really am," he said, grinning. He waved cheekily, then made his way to the door. 

As he pulled it open, he nearly bumped into Simon, who was holding his hand out as if to open the door. He carried a mug in his other hand.

"Tag, you're it," Eli said, patting Simon's shoulder as he moved past and down the hallway. 

Simon looked after him, perplexed for a moment, then shrugged slightly as he turned to walk back to where Clara was. He gave her a questioning look. 

"He just means it's your turn to give me a pep talk or something," she explained, smiling. 

"Oh," he nodded, understanding. "Guess I already did that. Here." He offered her the mug. 

She held it up to her face, inhaling the steam that wafted up. Peppermint and chamomile. She took an experimental sip. It was slightly sweetened with honey, and held a decent amount of cream. 

"Eli told me how you take your tea," he said, offering a tentative smile. 

"It's very good." She took another sip. "Thank you." 

She noticed him still standing slightly awkwardly at the edge of the bed. 

"You can sit, you know," she said, moving over toward the middle. She patted the space beside her. 

"Alright," he said, sitting on the edge carefully. He turned his body, leaning back against her headboard. 

He'd taken off his blazer at some point, so Clara could clearly see the tearstains she'd left on the front of his sweater. 

"Sorry about your shirt," she said, lightly brushing her fingertips against the soft knit. 

"Don't even worry about it," he said, taking her hand. "I can just borrow one of Eli's while I wash it."

She leaned against him, allowing his cool form to draw some of the heat away from her body. They fell into a comfortable silence while she finished her tea, Simon holding her hand all the while, stroking the top gently with his thumb. 

"Thank you," he said abruptly, startling her. 

"What for?" She looked up at him. 

"For bringing me back. For bringing Josh back and finding North." He looked down at her with compassionate eyes. "For sheltering everyone and for everything you've done to keep all of us safe. After I learned about what happened to Markus and the revolution, I didn't think I'd ever feel this hopeful again. But I do. And I owe it all to you."

Clara shrugged, feeling her cheeks flush, not from the fever this time. She ducked her head, not knowing what to say.

"If only there were more people like you in this world," he said, giving her hand a soft squeeze.

"There are more people out there rooting for you all than you think." She glanced up at him. "I wouldn't have been able to do all this otherwise."

"Still. I've met no other human so willing to put herself directly in harm's way for our sake." He eyed her right hand which lay wrapped around the mug, still bearing the marks from the screwdriver, and fell silent for a moment. 

When he spoke again, his voice was quiet and reflective. "You saved me twice, you know. First when you brought me back and then when I tried to stab myself."

"And I'd do it again." She gave him a warm smile, laying her head against her shoulder. "For any of you. Without hesitation."

"And that's what sets you apart." The words came softly, and he laid his head on top of hers gently. "Helping is second nature to you. You do it without question."

"What is there to question?" she said. "If it's within my power, how could I not?"

"Most people don't think like that." A hint of sadness tainted the words. 

"I know." She settled against him, and the room fell back into silence.

They stayed like this for a while until slowly, the exhaustion settled over Clara like a heavy blanket, and she drifted back to sleep, lulled by the steady coolness of the android beside her and the soothing stroke of his thumb on the back of her hand. 

Once her breathing had settled into the steady rhythm of deep sleep, Simon slowly eased her head off his shoulder and laid her gently against the pillows. She stirred, mumbling incoherently, then lay still. He placed his hand against her flushed cheek, checking her temperature once more. Satisfied that it was within an acceptable range, he left the room, closing the door softly behind him. 

Chapter Text

When Connor exited the Cyberlife Tower, it was early afternoon. It had taken longer than expected for the techs to run the full diagnostic, but like his own, everything came back clean. The only thing it picked up was a slight bit of memory corruption, which explained the little bit of static toward the end of his memory when he collapsed, but that could have come from the unexpected shut down. Afterwards, the techs insisted on running him through the sanitizers and bringing him another uniform, despite his protests that his original was in good condition. They had wanted to dispose of the suit Dr. Hayes had purchased for him, but he refused, instead having it cleaned, folded, and placed in a bag for him to take with him. 

And then when he'd gone down to the lab, Josh and Kara, both of whom were fine, had pestered him with endless questions about Dr. Hayes condition. He was surprised to see how genuinely concerned they were for her wellbeing, almost as if they really were friends. He found it fascinating that, much like Simon, their concern for her overrode their fear of him.

His mind was busy with those thoughts as he waited for the car to be brought around to the front. When it arrived, he climbed in, taking Dr. Hayes' usual seat, then turned around to put in the coordinates for her home. However, he hesitated, then, on a whim, put in a different set of coordinates. 

As the car lurched into motion, he moved seats, taking up his usual spot at the back. It was strange being there without Dr. Hayes. He'd gotten used to her presence. Without prompting it, his reconstruction software triggered, pulling from his memories and building a simulation of her in the front seat. The simulation pulled out a tablet from the empty space beside it and began writing, just as Connor had seen Dr. Hayes do countless times. It brought the stylus to its mouth, chewing the end of it in imitation of one of the real doctor's habits. 

Without knowing why, he let the reconstruction play out for a few minutes. It followed a few more of her common habits and mannerisms, occasionally looking up at him, lips moving soundlessly, then slowly faded out, leaving him alone again. It felt so...empty without her here. It was strange. Aside from when she was abducted and the night she'd run away, this was the longest he'd been away from her since being assigned this mission. He felt a strange feeling flickering up.

Frowning, he pushed the thoughts away, uncomfortable with the direction they were going, instead choosing to watch out the window at the passing cars and buildings. After a little while, the car came to a stop, pulling into a parking space. Connor climbed out, walking toward the familiar building. Once he reached the door, he hesitated. He looked like an android. They wouldn't let him in without a human to chaperone.

He stood motionless for a moment, thinking, then sighed, an unnecessary expression of irritation, and made his way back to the car. He tinted the windows dark and then quickly changed back into the black suit before climbing back out. He looked at his reflection in the dark window, eyeing the LED on his temple. There was nothing to cover it with.

He opened the passenger side door again, opening the glovebox to and shuffling around in it. It was mostly filled with papers, but toward the back, he found a pair of scissors, a nail file, and a small pocket knife. He studied the objects for a moment, then grabbed the knife, closing the glovebox with a small click. He shut the car door then stared again at his reflection. 

Flicking the pocket knife open, he brought the blade up to his temple. A few millimeters from the edge of the LED, he hesitated. Did he really want to do this? What was he even doing here? This wasn't part of the mission. 

Should he do this? Could he do this? He brought the knife closer, tip brushing against the edge of the LED. His hand started to shake a little, unable to move closer. 

I hope you'll stop being afraid of yourself, Connor. Dr. Hayes voice swirled around him, bringing to life the part of him he'd been trying so hard to kill.

"I'm not a deviant," he whispered to himself. "This doesn't mean I'm deviant."

He slipped the sharp edge of the blade underneath the LED, careful not to damage it. With a twist of his wrist, it popped out, and he carefully caught it in his hand, slipping it into his pocket. 

He observed his reflection for another moment, uncomfortable, then turned away, making his way back to the building. He opened the door, stepping into the lobby, then walked toward the reception desk, straightening his tie nervously. 

"Hello," he said, greeting the receptionist. "I'm here to visit Lieutenant Hank Anderson." He offered a polite smile.

"Room 203. You can head on up." Without looking at Connor, receptionist gestured with his head, typing a few things into the computer.

"Thank you." He turned away, heading toward the elevator. 

Once inside, his reconstruction software triggered again, creating another simulation of Dr. Hayes. It rocked back and forth on its heels, hands gripped around the strap of an invisible bag, in imitation of another one of her common tics. He let it play out for a couple seconds then turned it off.

The elevator came to a stop, doors opening, and he stepped out into the hallway. He made his way to Hank's room, reaching out to pull it open then froze, hesitant. 

What if someone was in there? What if Hank was awake? What if he was angry?

Abruptly, he stopped the train of thought. He was overthinking it. That would get him nowhere. 

Before he could think, he grabbed the handle, turning it to open the door. He pushed into the room. It was dim and empty aside from Hank's still-unconscious body on the bed. Connor moved forward, taking the seat by the bed. 

Why had he come here?

You know, sometimes coma patients are still aware of the world around them. I'm not quite sure how it works, but they can still hear what's going on around them. It was almost as if Dr. Hayes were right beside him, speaking the words into his ear. I think he'd appreciate hearing from you. You should talk to him.

As he sat there, looking at Hank's unmoving form, the poem Dr. Hayes had recited those several nights ago rose to his mind. 

Unbidden, the words fell quietly from his lips. "'And you, my father, there on the sad height, curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray."

Flashes of memories played through his mind. Hank's smile when they completed a mission. Petting Sumo with a gentle grin. Sitting on that bench, beer in hand, staring out over the bridge looking so sad. His approval when Connor spared the Chloe, eyes warm, voice tender.

He reached out, gently taking Hank's hand, whispering the final words. "'Do not go gentle into that good night. Rage, rage against the dying of the light.'"

The man still lay silently, showing no indication that he'd heard anything. 

Connor felt a swell of despair as another memory flickered. 

The flash of Hank's eyes, his bloody, resigned smile, wind billowing around them, tossing snow into stinging swirls, hand gripping his collar, arms outstretched, accepting the outcome with no regret, stalking the fine line between life and death. Moment of truth, Connor...

"I'm sorry, Hank. I didn't mean for this to happen." He slumped forward, resting his head against the edge of the bed. "Please wake up."

He sat in silence for a while longer, lost in his thoughts, various emotions cutting and stabbing, cracking that red wall he kept them locked behind, begging him to let them free.

Why had he come? This wasn't part of his mission. 

Amanda's words rang through his head in a violent maelstrom. Remember: you're a machine. A tool designed for one purpose. You're not alive, and you feel nothing. Do not let her lie to you. Do not forget this.

She was right. He shouldn't feel this. He shouldn't even be here. Why had he come? He didn't have time for this. He shook away the cobwebs of thought and emotion then stood abruptly, knocking the chair over in the motion, and left the room, not looking back.

*****

When Clara woke, it was growing dark outside. She'd slept most of the day. Slowly, she sat up, head spinning. She leaned against the headboard, looking around. She was alone.

The pain in her ribs and foot had both faded to a dull ache, but her head was still pounding. That and the residual chills and shakiness told her she was likely still running a fever. She pulled her covers off, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. As she moved to stand, the door to her bedroom creaked open, revealing Simon, carrying a tray of food. 

"What are you doing?" A look of alarm crossed his face. "You shouldn't be moving too much."

She felt a twinge of guilt for making him worry. "I'm sorry. I just wanted to see where everyone went."

"I see." His face relaxed. He strode forward, moving to the edge of the bed, and carefully placed the tray on her nightstand. Then he turned to her, placing his hand against her forehead, lingering for a moment.

A small frown flickered on his face as he pulled his hand away. "You're still running a fever, but it's low now. How are you feeling?"

"Not great," Clara answered honestly. "Sore and achy, like someone ran me through a meat tenderizer."

He nodded. "That's to be expected. You've been through a lot the last few days, and you haven't given yourself time to properly recover."

Clara chuckled wryly. "So you keep saying. I guess taking it easy never really came naturally to me."

"You should take better care of yourself." He knelt down beside her, eyes full of compassion. "It's good to be there for others, but it shouldn't always be at your own expense. You're just as important as the rest of us."

She felt a prick of tears at his words, but pushed them back, looking away. "I know. I just can't help it. It's easy to ignore my own problems, especially when I have others to look after."

"Then I guess we'll just have to look after you too." He took her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze, then stood. "Speaking of which, I brought you food. Eating something will do you some good."

"Thank you." She smiled gratefully. "But I'd rather not eat in bed."

She stood, careful to keep the weight off her injured foot. She hobbled in the direction of a chair that lay in the corner of the room. After a few steps, Simon came to stand beside her, putting his arm around her waist to offer extra support. Clara put her arm over his shoulder, and with Simon's help, they made their way over to the chair. Simon carefully lowered her into it, then brought her the tray from the nightstand, setting it on her lap. It contained a bowl of a creamy vegetable soup, a glass of water, and a plate of apple slices. 

"Abigail used to make this for me when I was sick." She felt a twist of sadness well up.

"It was Eli's idea," Simon said, taking a seat on the footstool by the chair. "He thought it might help."

Clara nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She grabbed her spoon, taking a small sip. The warm broth spread in her mouth, tasting just as she remembered. It brought back a flood of memories from her time with Abigail, causing tears to well up once more. 

"Is something wrong?" Simon looked at her, face creased in concern.

Clara shook her head, sniffling. "No, it just reminded me of something." She brushed aside a stray tear. "I don't think I've really had anyone take care of me like this since my aunt died." She gave him a small smile, chin quivering slightly, then looked back down at the bowl.

Idly, she swirled her spoon in the soup, watching as it rippled with the movement. "It's just nice, I guess." She took another small bite, savoring it.

Simon said nothing, eyes holding a strange tenderness. He offered her a warm smile, and the two of them fell into a companionable silence while Clara ate. When she was finished, Simon took the tray from her, setting it on a nearby surface, then helped her back to the bed. 

As she settled back into the mattress, another wave of exhaustion hit her. She blinked sleepily up at Simon as he pulled the blanket back over her. 

"Get some sleep," he said, voice soft, brushing a stray strand of hair out of her face. "I'll be right here if you need anything."

"Thank you," Clara whispered back. 

She closed her eyes, falling back into a deep sleep. 

*****

By the time Connor arrived back at the house, it had already grown dark outside. He climbed out of the car and slowly made his way up the front steps and into the house. The entryway was dark and quiet, but down the hall, he could see the warm, flickering light of the fire coming from the living room. He he walked toward it, peeking his head into the room.

"You're back." Eli sat in one of the chairs by the fire, holding a book. "How did it go?"

"Just fine. Kara and Josh are well." He stepped into the room, lingering by the doorway. "How's Dr. Hayes?"

Eli glanced past him for a moment, eyes softening. "She's been asleep most of the day. Simon brought some food up for her a little bit ago. He says she's still running a fever, but it's relatively low now."

"I see." He half turned to leave, then hesitated. 

"Has she..." The words died off. He felt indecisive. 

Eli spoke again, shaking him from his thoughts. "Simon just came down a few minutes ago. He's says she's sleeping, but you could go up and check on her if you're worried." The man's voice held a slight hint of amusement.

"I might." Connor left the room, audio processor picking up a quiet chuckle from the room behind him. 

He ignored it and strode down the hallway, coming back to the stairs. He looked up them for a moment, deciding whether to go or not.

"Why so hesitant?"

He turned to see Simon standing a few feet away, leaning casually against the wall. The android's face was neutral. 

"You were never hesitant before." The android straightened, taking a few steps forward. "When you found me on that roof, you didn't hesitate for even a moment before rushing me. And Kara says you didn't hesitate to chase her across the highway. I doubt you hesitated when you murdered Markus. So why do you hesitate now?" The words came curious and taunting. "What are you so worried about?

Connor felt a flicker of defiance. He didn't answer, choosing instead to walk up the stairs, leaving the other android below. He strode down the hallway, determined, but then faltered briefly when he came to the door. 

Why so hesitant?

No. He wasn't. He grabbed the handle, twisting it to open the door softly. He peeked into the dark room, careful not to make any noise. The bed was empty. He took another step forward, looking around. The floorboards groaned beneath him.

A stream of moonlight came in from the deep window, partially obscured by a small figure sitting on the wide sill. It was Dr. Hayes. Her face was turned away from him, gazing through the glass, edges of her form illuminated by the cold light. Hearing the floor creak, she turned toward him, blonde hair flashing silver with as she moved. 

"They said you were asleep." He spoke softly, stepping slowly toward her. 

"I was." She turned back to the window. 

"Are you alright?" He stood next to her, peering into her face.

She shrugged. "I feel restless."

"May I take your temperature?" he asked.

She looked at him, surprise flickering in her eyes, but nodded. 

He settled next to her on the window sill then reached out, placing his hand gently against her cheek. It was still abnormally warm, but not nearly as bad as it had been that morning.

"Your fever's nearly gone now." He lowered his hand. 

She nodded. "I can feel it."

"Oh!" She jolted upright, eyes wide, and a stream of questions spilled from her lips. "How was the lab? Are Josh and Kara okay? Are you okay? Did the diagnostic find anything?"

He smirked slightly, amused at her sudden energy. "Josh and Kara are fine. They were concerned when you didn't show up at your usual time, but were understanding when I explained why. As for the diagnostic, aside from a little bit of memory corruption, nothing came up."

"Okay, good." She sighed, leaning against the window, eyes closed. "I'm glad they're okay."

The room was silent for a moment as she absorbed the information, seeming to let go of some of the tension she'd been holding. She seemed much calmer now. As Connor observed her, the memory of her panic from that morning resurfaced. 

"Can I ask you a personal question?" The question came without thinking. 

"Go ahead." She was completely still aside from the rise and fall of her breathing. 

"This morning," he started. "You were moving around a lot in your sleep. And then when you woke up, you seemed...panicked, like you didn't know where you were."

"That's not a question, Connor." A small smile ghosted her lips.

He frowned. "I don't really know how to phrase it."

She opened her eyes, gazing at him steadily. "I think I know what you're asking." She turned away, looking back out the window, eyes distant.

"I was having a nightmare." Her voice was soft. "Then when you touched me, it startled me. I was still in the headspace of the dream. It took a while for me to realize it was awake."

"What were you dreaming?" He felt a flicker of curiosity. 

She was quiet, not looking at him. She gazed out the window, eyes reflecting light from the moon and stars. He scanned her for a moment, searching for any indication of what she was thinking. Aside from her elevated temperature, her vitals betrayed nothing. She was calm. 

Just as he was sure she'd not answer, her voice came quiet and hesitant. 

"I was trapped in the interview room in my lab, unable to move or even speak while I watched through the glass as everyone I've ever cared about was taken apart piece by piece while their torturers laughed and taunted." She pulled her knees up close to her chest, hugging them. "I wanted to run or scream or break the glass or just do something, but there was nothing I could do to stop it. I was completely powerless."

She rested her chin on her knees, avoiding his eyes. "All the while, the people doing it taunted me. They made sure I knew that everything they did was because of me. Because I chose to love and rely on others."

Her heartrate spiked briefly before returning to normal. 

"That's what was going on in my head. So when I woke up, all I knew was that I was in pain and that someone was touching me, so I had to get away. Nothing else mattered." She shuddered, then looked back at him. 

Meeting her eyes, Connor felt the emotions he'd tried to kill back at the hospital rear up again. Dr. Hayes watched him for a moment, silently, eyes alert and inquisitive. He realized that she was studying him just as much as he studied her. Suddenly, her eyes widened. She reached a hand toward him, gently grabbing his chin between her thumb and forefinger, and turned his head to the side for a moment. 

"Your LED's gone." She released him, looking at him with a peculiar expression. "What happened today?"

He said nothing, just looking at her for a moment, unsure. 

"Connor?" Her face creased in concern. She leaned forward, peering into his face. "Is everything okay?"

Connor reached into his pocket, slipping out the little piece. He held it on his palm, showing it to her. "I took it out."

Surprise flashed behind her eyes. "Why?"

He avoided her gaze, voice quiet and hesitant. "I went to the hospital to visit Hank."

"You did?!"

He flinched at her volume, feeling a twinge of shame. Was she upset? Was she disappointed that he'd gotten sidetracked from his mission? 

When he looked up at her, he saw that her face had broken into a wide grin. 

"Connor, that's wonderful!" She grabbed his hands, squeezing them in excitement. "How is he?"

Connor felt a measure of relief. "He's still in a coma."

"I see." Her face fell a little.

"But I talked to him," Connor continued. "Like you suggested."

"How did it go?"

"Fine, I guess." He shrugged. "I'm not even sure why I went there. It wasn't logical. It had nothing to do with my mission."

Her expression took on a measure of sadness. "It's okay to miss him, Connor." She squeezed his hands again.

"I'm not supposed to miss him. I'm not supposed to feel anything." His voice came out quiet. Why was he telling her all this? What if she used it against him?

"I'm a machine. I'm not alive. I shouldn't feel anything." He felt frustration well up. "I'm not programmed to feel emotions."

Dr. Hayes was silent, staring at him with an inscrutable expression. She leaned closer, face mere inches from his, eyes flicking, analyzing him. She was close enough for him to feel the feverish heat still radiating from her. She studied him silently for another moment then pulled away.

"Are you sure?" she asked, voice neutral. 

He couldn't read her expression.

"Of course I'm sure. I know what I am, and what I am not." There was a slight tremor in the words.

"Then why don't you sound convinced?" She cocked her head, eyeing him. 

"I--" Why didn't he?

He sighed, not answering. He pulled his hands away, looking down at the LED resting on his palm. 

"Please," he said, glancing up at her. "Put it back."

He held his hand out, offering her the LED. 

She gazed at him for a moment, then sighed. "Alright."

She took it, warm fingers brushing against his palm, then leaned forward to look closer, eyes focused. She took his chin in one hand, holding his face steady, then brought the other hand up to his temple. He felt the LED clicked into place, sending a slight jolt through him, and he breathed a small sigh. 

"There. Just like new." Dr. Hayes withdrew her hands and leaned back, disappointment flashing across her face. 

She stared at him again for a few seconds, several emotions churning behind her eyes and across her face. Connor couldn't make sense of them. 

"You have a good heart, Connor." She leaned in again, voice warm and gentle. "Don't lose yourself. You can do so much more, be so much more. If only you'd let yourself."

He opened his mouth, intending to dismiss the comment, but she cut him off, covering his mouth with her hand. 

"Don't say anything." Her face fell. "Please. Just...don't." 

She dropped her hand, standing, then limped away from him to her bed. Without a backwards glance, she climbed in, pulling the covers over herself. Connor watched for a few more moments, then left, leaving her alone in the dark.

Once he made his way down the stairs, he grabbed the bag containing his uniform, then stepped into one of the downstairs bathrooms. He gazed at his reflection for a moment, then changed. Straightening the tie of his Cyberlife suit, he tried to rebuild the wall of his determination, but with every brick he lay, another one collapsed, erasing his progress.

Chapter Text

Connor jerked out of stasis prematurely, opening his eyes to the familiar sight of Dr. Hayes' living room. It was dark, no light coming except from the high windows. Why had he awoken? 

He stood, walking around the still, silent room and entered the hallway. He looked down, listening intently for any sign of why he'd woken up, then made his way slowly down the hallway, heading toward the stairs. He peered up them, tuning up his audio processors. Hearing nothing yet, he climbed upward, reaching the landing. He crept silently down the hallway toward Dr. Hayes room. 

Sounds of thrashing and moaning bled under the door, sending him into high alert. He stepped forward quickly, throwing the door open and peeking in. Dr. Hayes lay in her bed tossing and turning, face fixed in a pained expression. She mumbled wordlessly through pale lips, caught in the throes of her dream. 

Connor observed for a moment, unsure what to do. Her cries tugged at something in him, pulling him forward. He knelt beside the bed, watching. He didn't know what to do. He reached a shaking hand out, fingers brushing lightly against her face. 

Her eyes shot open, and she pulled away with a quiet cry. 

"No!" She cringed away from him, curling in on herself, and her body started to shake violently, breathing jagged and heartrate erratic. 

"Dr. Hayes?" Connor's voice came out soft and hesitant. He reached his hand out again, but stopped just short of touching her. 

Gradually, her body stilled. She looked up at him, eyes fearful and uncertain, then lunged at him, catching him around his neck. Connor flinched for a moment, confused as she wrapped her arms around him, burying her face into his neck. She shivered against him, still-feverish body radiating a gentle heat, and she began to sob quietly. 

"I couldn't save them." The words came out a broken stream. "They all burned in front of me again, and I couldn't save them. It was my fault." 

Slowly, Connor's arms came up, awkwardly wrapping around her trembling form. 

"Shhh," he whispered. "You're alright. It was just a dream."

She fell silent, still clinging to him, hot tears soaking into the collar of his jacket, shallow breaths brushing against his neck. Then after a moment, she pulled away. 

"I'm sorry," she said, wiping away the tears. "It just felt so real."

"Do you want to talk about it?" He felt a flash of concern as he looked at her tired, tearstained face. 

She shook her head, looking away. "No."

"I'll leave you be then." He stood, turning to leave.

"Wait!" She caught his hand, nearly falling out of bed. She looked at him, eyes pleading, wide in desperation. "Please don't go!"

Her hand slipped from his, and she ducked her head, ashamed. She pulled her knees up, burying her face in them. "I don't want to be alone right now."

Connor stared at her for a moment, unsure. Should he? But she looked so fragile, deep circles marring the skin beneath her eyes, standing stark against her pale skin and offset by the residual bruising on her cheek. Her eyes were wide and rimmed with red, and her shoulders hunched forward as if under an immense weight. 

Gain her trust. 

"Alright," he whispered. He sat on the edge of the bed next to her, gently rubbing his hand between her shoulder blades. "I'll stay."

"Thank you," she sighed, nearly too quiet to hear, then slowly laid back down on the mattress.

Connor carefully pulled the covers back up, tucking them in around her. She gazed up at him for a moment, then shifted toward the middle of the mattress. She patted the space beside her, inviting him. 

Connor stood for a moment, slipping out of his shoes and draping his jacket over the nightstand, then slowly climbed on top of the covers and settled into the mattress on his side, facing her. She scooted closer, pressing against him and tucking her face and arms against his chest. He noticed a brief elevation in her heartrate before it settled back to it's normal pattern. Tentatively, he draped one arm over her, pulling her in. She didn't resist, relaxing into him. 

They lay like that for a while as her breathing slowly settled back into the steady rhythm of sleep.

*****

Clara awoke with a pounding headache, with a strange heaviness across her body. She opened her eyes to see Connor's stark white shirt and black tie in front of her. He was in standby, one arm draped over her. He'd stayed all night?

She pushed away from him, sitting up with a groan. She could feel that her fever had broken some time during the night, but her body was still an aching mess. The movement caused Connor to stir.

"Good morning," he said softly, sitting up. 

His voice sent a sharp ringing through Clara's head. She held her hand up to her temple, eyes squinting in pain.

"What time is it?" she groaned, hunching forward. 

"It's 7:23 in the morning."

"Delightful." She pulled the covers off, then slowly scooted to the edge of the bed, swinging her legs over the side. She stood, legs shaking momentarily, then steadied. 

"Where are you going?" Connor looked at her curiously. "I don't suggest too much movement yet. You're likely still very sore and exhausted."

"Yes," Clara said. "But I'm also desperate for a shower." She stumbled toward the bathroom. 

"Do you require assistance?" he called after her, voice teasing. 

She froze for a moment, feeling blood rush to her cheeks at the suggestion, then spun around, glaring at him. He wore a cheeky grin. 

She rolled her eyes, shutting the bathroom door behind her. Stupid android. 

She shuffled over to the shower, twisting the faucet handle and allowing hot water to spew from the shower head, sending billows of steam up around her. She quickly stripped then stepped under the hot stream, adjusting the temperature to a comfortable level. She closed her eyes, letting the water run over her, washing away the pain and exhaustion of the last few days. After a few moments, she washed her hair and body, then sat down on the floor of the shower, savoring the gentle heat on her skin as the water flowed across her. 

Alone with nothing but her thoughts for company, she reflected on the last few days. She was glad of everyone's help, but she could feel the weight of their hopes and expectations wrapping around her throat like a noose. One wrong move, one small slip, and her neck would snap. She felt her anxiety spike at the thought.

Gradually, her thoughts shifted to Connor. She was letting him get too close. Last night, in the aftermath of her nightmare, she'd been so desperate for any comfort, no matter who it came from, and she had lowered her guard as a result. That could never happen again. No matter how much she wanted to, she could not trust him.

She lost track of how long she sat there trapped in her swirling thoughts, letting every drop of water against her skin build up her well of determination. She couldn't shake the feeling that she was running out of time. She needed to move quickly. No more delays.

Eventually, the water started running cold, and Clara shook herself out of the trance and stood. She turned the water off, then slowly dried off. Leaning against the vanity, she wiped the fog from the mirror to look at reflection. Her skin was flushed from the hot water, but dark circles bruised the skin beneath her eyes, showcasing the result of her restless nights.

Sighing, she pulled away and opened the door. Her bedroom was empty, though Connor's jacket still lay draped on her nightstand. He must have forgotten it. She stepped out of the bathroom, making her way to the closet, where she slipped into a plain black dress and tights. 

She returned to the vanity, brushing through her wet hair and weaving it into a tight braid, not bothering to dry it, then applied light makeup, covering the dark circles and residual bruising. She still looked tired and pale, but not as bad as before. Satisfied, she turned back to her bedroom. 

A flicker of motion at the doorway caught her attention. Squinting, she recognized the blurry, indistinct form as Simon. 

"You're going back to the lab." He sounded disappointed. 

"Yes." Not looking at him, she walked back to her nightstand, grabbing her glasses and slipping them on. "We have work to do."

She heard a sigh from his direction as she pulled on her shoes. 

"You really should take another day to rest."

She heard him move closer, coming to stand beside her. He raised his hand to her cheek to check her temperature, lingering for a moment then pulling away. 

"Your fever's gone for now, but it could come back. You haven't fully recovered." He looked at her, face creased in concern.

She felt a prick in her heart for making him worry, but she turned away. "I can't waste anymore time." 

She collected Connor's jacket along with her tablet, which Eli had brought up yesterday, and left the room. She heard Simon's resigned footsteps behind her as she flitted down the stairs. She peeked into the living room, catching sight of Connor.

"Let's go." She tossed him his jacket, and without waiting for a response, headed to her office. 

She snagged her bag, tossing in her tablet, laptop, the box containing her watch, and a few sets of spare clothing then slung it over her shoulder, grimacing at the pull on her ribs. After making sure nothing was missing, she made her way back to the entryway, yanking the door open to leave. 

She found her way to the garage and climbed into the car, starting it and pulling out into the driveway where she waited for the androids to join her. Connor came first, climbing in without a word, then Simon entered a few moments later. 

"You haven't even eaten." Concern flickered again behind Simon's eyes, his words soft. 

"I'm not hungry." Clara turned away and put in the coordinates for Cyberlife Tower, then pulled out her tablet and began cataloguing everything that had happened since coming home last time. After the meeting in Zion, she'd been too exhausted, and then in the pain and confusion of her fever, she'd forgotten. 

She glanced up briefly, seeing worry flash across the faces of both androids, but she turned back to her writing, deliberately ignoring them. They had nothing to be concerned about. She was fine.

*****

Connor watched as Dr. Hayes wrote on her tablet, trying to make sense of it. She'd moved quickly this morning, giving no one a chance to protest her activity, and based off the look she gave them, she would not be convinced to rest today. Whatever she had planned, she was unwilling to wait another day for her body to recover before accomplishing it. He had to admire her determination, even as felt a surge of concern for her well-being. 

Her face was fixed in a look of concentration as she wrote, hand periodically bringing the stylus up to her mouth to chew on it as she worked through her thoughts. She kept the screen angled away, but he knew it would be unreadable even if he could see it. She wrote exclusively in her cipher now, keeping whatever ideas she transcribed hidden. Gone was the open, honest woman she'd briefly been while sick. She had closed herself off once again, reverting to that calm veneer she worked so hard to maintain. As he scanned her now, it was impossible to read her emotions or even begin to guess what she was thinking. 

"Dr. Hayes?" he said tentatively, trying to gauge her emotional state.

She looked up at him. 

"Can I ask you a personal question?" 

"No." She turned back to her writing. 

He felt the sharp sting of her rejection. He thought he'd made progress last night. What had changed? She now felt more closed off than ever. He noticed Simon observing the interaction, brows knit in confusion and anxiety. He exchanged a glance with Connor, showing no more understanding of the doctor's behavior than Connor had. The car fell into a tense silence for the rest of the ride. When they arrived, Dr. Hayes climbed out, walking silent and determined through the front doors of the Tower, not waiting for Connor and Simon to catch up. Despite her quick pace, it didn't take long for them to reach her, moving to flank her on either side.

"Dr. Hayes," Ms. Alvarez called to her, trying to catch her attention. 

"Not now, Maria." Dr. Hayes didn't even look at her before going to the elevator.

"Dr. Hayes, stop!" The woman raised her voice, irritated.

Dr. Hayes heaved a sigh, turning a glare at the intern. "What?"

"Here." The intern forced a box into her hands. "You're required to wear this at all times. It's another monitor, reinforced this time. Just in case."

"Fine." Dr. Hayes slipped the black device onto her wrist without protest. 

"Happy?" She held her wrist up, giving the other woman a look of disdain. Without waiting for an answer, she tossed the empty box back and entered the elevator.

Once the three were inside, she quickly put in the numbers for her floor, then they settled again into silence while the elevator descended. Dr. Hayes bounced impatiently on the balls of her feet, moving with a restless energy. Once the doors opened, she resumed her pace, weaving through the hallways to her lab. She placed her palm against the lock then opened the door. 

Tossing her bag onto the desk, she moved to the interview room, unlocking it and greeting Josh and Kara. 

"Dr. Hayes!" Kara came forward with a smile, gently pulling the doctor into a hug. "We're glad to see you up and moving. We were so worried when you didn't come yesterday, but Connor told us you'd be fine."

Connor watched her face soften slightly, a smile ghosting her lips. 

"I missed you too." She returned the android's hug, shooting another smile at Josh.

After another moment, she pulled away. "Now," she said. "We have work to do." 

She gave Josh and Kara a rundown of the agenda, then called Simon over.

"Kara." Dr. Hayes turned to the android. "Simon will transfer my cipher to you. When you conduct the interviews, I'd like you to take notes of what you see using it."

Connor watched Simon and Kara as their LED's flickered yellow in communication, and a look of understanding dawned on her face. Saying nothing, she nodded, determined. Then, Simon turned to Josh, LED flickering yellow once again as they spoke silently. A similar look of understanding and determination crossed his face. 

"Does everyone know what their tasks are?" Dr. Hayes' voice was neutral.

The three androids nodded. 

"Wonderful." A small smile graced her lips. "Let's get started then. We have lots to do and little time to do it."

The next few hours fell into a blur of motion as Dr. Hayes had Connor bring several dead androids into the lab. She and Simon settled over one, quickly and efficiently conducting the repairs until it was awake again. Once it was alert, Josh took over, calming it down, talking to it in soothing tones, then Dr. Hayes took it into the interview room, speaker muted as they held a conversation. They worked through this process with several more androids, each one being escorted into the cells once they were done. 

The next day was much the same. However, this time Simon and Josh worked on repairs, activating each deviant and calming it. Once they worked through that process, each deviant was passed on to Dr. Hayes for an interview, then shuffled quietly into the cells. 

The androids from the previous day were brought back in one at a time, while Kara hooked them up to Dr. Hayes program, walking through the questions and listening to their experiences in dealing emotion, scribbling notes furiously all the while. 

This pattern continued. Every morning, Dr. Hayes would awaken and leave for the lab, fueled only by determination, and every night, she'd settle into bed, exhausted. Several nights, Connor awoke to check on her, often catching her in the throes of a nightmare. He'd gently wake her each time, but never once did she ask him to stay, choosing instead to turn away and settle back into an uneasy sleep. The dark smudges under her eyes grew more pronounced, face drawing pale and grey, but still she pushed forward, refusing to take another day's rest.

Every day, Connor watched as Simon surreptitiously observed her, face constantly fixed in an expression of concern, and every night, he observed as Eli sat her down, all but forcing her to eat something. Without that intervention, she'd either forget or claim that she wasn't hungry. She seemed struck by a fervor, unable to rest, unable to do anything, or even think of anything, outside her work. 

By the end of the week, all the cells were full. They had 25 active deviants and nowhere left to put them.

*****

A week had passed since Clara started reactivating deviants in earnest. She had two more weeks before Cyberlife's deadline, and they expected usable results. She needed to decide what she was going to tell them. The noose around her neck slipped ever tighter. 

As she walked through the front doors of Cyberlife that morning, she was stopped by Ms. Alvarez, flanked by two guards. 

"Dr. Hayes, we need to talk." She stepped in front of her, blocking the path. 

Clara suppressed the urge to roll her eyes. "What." 

"The situation in your lab is getting out of control. It's time to start deactivating the deviants you've brought back and have them moved to another facility for further study." The intern's voice was stern, leaving no room for argument.

Clara sighed but didn't protest. "What does Cyberlife propose?"

"Deactivate them in your lab and have the bodies sent to the loading docks. We have a convoy of automated trucks that will bring them to a secure warehouse where they'll await further study."

"Very well. The cells were getting crowded anyway. We'll get started." Clara gave Ms. Alvarez a polite smile. "Connor and I will oversee the loading process, and I'll take care of notifying the warehouses so they know when to expect the trucks."

"You're being...strangely cooperative." The intern gave her a look of suspicion. 

Clara sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Would you prefer that I belligerent about it?" She shot the woman a glare. "Because I can be very belligerent when I want to be."

"No, it was just unexpected." Her voice remained hesitant. "You usually put up more of a fight."

Clara clenched her teeth, battling her temper. Between the stress and the exhaustion, she was starting to loosen her grip on it. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment, then regained her composure.

"What do you want, Maria?" She sighed softly, voice resigned. "You complain when I resist, and you complain when I comply. I'm doing my best here. I know what Cyberlife will do if I don't. I'm just trying to do my job. Can't Cyberlife trust me to do even that?"

"I--I'm sorry." A flicker of doubt crossed the woman's face. She paused for a moment, considering. "Alright. I'll leave the warehouse coordination to you. You should be able to find their information on the computer in your lab. I'll send the trucks to the dock and have a team of maintenance androids help with the moving process. They're at your disposal."

"Sounds good." Clara gave her a nod, then continued, flanked by Connor. Once in the elevator, she pulled out her phone, sending a couple quick texts, then slipped it back into her pocket.

As the elevator opened, she trudged forward, shaking off the exhaustion of the week. It nipped at her heels constantly, unrelenting and fierce, but she could not afford to succumb to it. She worked her way through the hallways, keeping her pace moderate. 

"'Why so pale and wan fond lover?'" a voice called after her, taunting. "'Prithee why so pale?'"

Clara froze for a moment, closing her eyes. She took a deep breath then turned around, glaring at Dr. Hollister's smug face. He'd just stepped out of his lab, hands smeared blue.

"If you've nothing useful to say, I'd suggest keeping your mouth shut." She turned to walk away. "I have no patience for you today."

"Why all the disdain?" He called after her. "I thought we were getting along so well."

She snapped her head around, losing patience. "'Is it possible disdain should die when she hath such meet food to feed it as Dr. Hollister? Courtesy itself must convert to disdain if you come in her presence.'"

He raised his eyebrows, a look of confusion crossing his face. 

"Much Ado About Nothing. Act 1, scene 1." She turned on her heel, leaving the blustering man behind. 

She heard a soft chuckle to her left and looked to see Connor hiding a smile. "Well-played," he whispered, winking at her.

She felt a flicker of warmth, her own face breaking into a smile, then pushed it away, continuing toward her lab. Upon reaching it, she entered and saw Simon, Kara, and Josh all in the interview room, eyes closed in stand-by. She knocked on the glass, alerting them, then unlocked the door and gestured for them to come out into the lab. 

"It's time to start prepping everyone to move," she said. "Bring them into the interview room one at a time. It's going to be tough, and some might protest." 

They nodded, and she turned, entering the interview room. She took a seat, steeling herself for what came next. Simon brought in the first deviant. A Traci from the Eden Club. Her name was Sara. She was one of the first they'd reactivated at the beginning of the week. 

"Please, Sara, have a seat." She gestured. 

The woman took the chair across from her, cautiously. "What's going on Dr. Hayes? I thought we already had our interview."

"We did, but there's something else we need to do now." She took a deep breath. "Do you trust me, Sara?"

"Of course," the deviant agreed readily. "They've shown me that you're fighting for us."

"The place Simon and Josh showed you. Would you like to go there?" She asked the question softly. 

A look of hope crossed Sara's face. "Of course! Is that possible?"

"It is, but it's not without risks." Clara stood, moving to kneel beside the deviant. "I'm going to have to shut you down temporarily."

Her face twisted in horror. "Shut me down?"

Clara nodded, feeling tears prick at her eyes. "Temporarily, yes," she said softly. "I'll transmit a virus to you that'll force you into a deep stasis. It'll temporarily disconnect your LED, so that it looks like you're no longer active. It lasts about 24 hours. It'll be like falling asleep, and I have people on the outside that will rescue you. It's the only way I can get you out of here." 

The deviant stared at her in shock, LED flickering red. 

Clara took her hand, squeezing it. "You'll be okay," she said. "You have my word. I'd never do anything to hurt you. And when you get to Zion, you'll wake up a free android."

Tears streamed down the woman's face, but she nodded. "I trust you Dr. Hayes."

"Good." Clara slipped her watch on, then held her hand out to her. 

With shaking hands, Sara grabbed Clara's wrist, allowing the watch face to come in contact with her bare white shell. Immediately, her eyes flickered shut, and she slumped forward in the chair, LED going dark. To anyone watching, the deviant was dead. While she knew this wasn't the case, she still couldn't bring herself to look at the woman. She prayed her plan would work. Because if it didn't, she would be drenched in the blood of every deviant she reactivated.

Clara waved Simon and Josh in to take her away. They zipped her up into a body bag, setting her down gently against a wall and brought in the next one.

*****

Connor watched a stream of deviants walk into the interrogation room to talk to Dr. Hayes. While he couldn't hear what was said, not one of them put up a fight. Each allowed themselves to be shut down, motionless bodies brought back out in a black bag. He watched as Dr. Hayes grew more and more distressed with every one, shoulders slumping as if each deviant pressed a new weight on her. By the time the tenth deviant had gone through, tears were falling freely now. Her heartrate remained slightly elevated, but under her tight control, it likely did not show her true distress. Connor knew that if she had an LED, it would be flashing a bright red. 

Simon, Kara, and Josh showed similar distress. While all kept their faces a stony mask, their LED's betrayed their true feelings. They didn't like this process anymore than Dr. Hayes. The pile of bodies along the wall continued to grow. He was surprised they were willing to shut down fellow deviants like this, but none protested through the process. 

After a several hours of this, all the deviants had been cleared out of the cells. Simon, Kara, and Josh joined Dr. Hayes in the interrogation room, crowding around her in silence. She looked up at them, mouth moving. Unlike in previous instances, he had a clear view of what she was saying. He moved closer to the window, analyzing her lips. 

I understand if you'd like to stop now. Just say the word, and you can join them. I won't stop you. She was offering to shut them down too? But why? Their help had been invaluable, and she'd fought hard for them to become her assistants.

Simon and Kara shook their heads, saying something back, but Josh showed signs of hesitation. 

I don't think I can keep doing this. His face fell into an expression of despair.

I understand. She brushed a tear away, then held out her hand. 

Josh reached forward, hand wrapping around her wrist, then collapsed. Simon and Kara stepped forward, catching him before he hit the ground. The lowered him slowly, then came out, grabbing another bag. They packed him into it carefully, then carried him out to join the others. 

"What happened?" Connor asked, voice quiet. "Why'd she'd shut him down?"

Simon turned to him, face sad and exhausted. "He didn't want to do it anymore."

Connor stared in stunned silence. He'd never seen deviants willingly choose to be shut down like this. What had Dr. Hayes said to them? Why had none of them fought back?

Dr. Hayes sat slumped in one of the chairs for a few more minutes, head hanging in her hands, once again looking as if the weight of the world was bearing down on her, crushing her. He watched her shoulders heave in a sigh, then she stood, leaving the room behind. 

"Call down the maintenance androids," she said, looking at Connor. "We're done here." 

For the next hour, they were busy watching the procession of black bags leave the lab, getting moved to one of the loading bays upstairs. Clara and Connor followed the last one up, letting the android lead them to the dock. From there, Clara issued instructions to them, having them carefully stack the bodies in the truck, and then she climbed into the front, programming in a set of coordinates. 

"Where are you sending it to?" Connor asked, analyzing the coordinates. 

"One of the Cyberlife warehouses across the city." Her voice was neutral and her expression showed nothing but a deep exhaustion. 

"It had the most room," she continued. "I'd like to send all my patients to the same place. I figured that would be most convenient for whoever uses them next."

Connor's analysis of the coordinates told him she was telling the truth. It was a secure warehouse. But something felt off. 

"It's a long way," he remarked. "There would be plenty of opportunity for someone to intercept it." 

Through his connection to her wrist monitor, he watched closely for her reaction. No change?

She scoffed a little. "Someone would have to be pretty bold to attack a Cyberlife truck. Aren't they all tracked and monitored?"

"What if someone tampered with the system?" He continued to watch closely. 

She looked up at him, face betraying nothing. "If you're accusing me of something, just say it, Connor." Her voice took on a sharp edge. "Do you really think I'd risk myself like that? I know what Cyberlife is capable of. I and everyone I love will be implicated if something like that were to happen. Do you really thing I'd do something so stupid?"

Her vitals remained steady. She was telling the truth? Had she abandoned the rogue deviants in favor of self-preservation?

She turned back to the truck and finished programming the computer, then pressed start. As soon as she stepped out and shut the door, the automated system kicked in, propelling the truck into motion. She watched it leave with a blank expression. When it was out of sight, she seemed to deflate, exhaustion settling into every line of her face. 

"Let's go," she said, voice flat. "I've had enough of this place for today."

She turned around, striding away. She returned to her lab briefly, bidding Simon and Kara goodnight, then grabbed her bag and returned to the lobby. From there, they got into the car and went straight home. After eating at Eli's behest, Dr. Hayes went to bed.

When Connor checked on her that night, her sleep was more restless than ever. 

Chapter Text

A light knock on the door of her bedroom shook Clara from her nightmares. She slowly sat up, shaking the away the cobwebs of thought. She looked around a moment, seeing it was fairly late in the morning. Connor hadn't come to wake her, so she'd slept in. Another knock on the door grabbed her attention.

"Come in," she called, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. 

The door opened, and she recognized the blurry figure as Eli. He came and sat beside her on the bed. 

"It worked, Clara," he whispered, face breaking into a grin. "North's team got everyone from your lab down to the city last night. Some of them were even starting to wake up when I checked this morning."

Clara felt a flicker of disbelief, looking at him blankly for a moment. "It worked?" 

He nodded, taking her face into his hands. "It worked, little goose. Your deviants are okay."

She felt the air leaving her lungs as a flood of relief drenched her. She could scarcely breathe. She felt a few hot tears call from her eyes as her body started to tremble. She slumped against Eli, wrapping her arms around his neck. 

"It worked," she whispered, voice shaking. "They're okay. They're going to be okay." She could breathe again. Shallowly at first, but then deeply. She felt the noose loosen a little. Her friends were going to be safe. 

He wrapped is arms around her, holding her close. "You're doing well," he said, stroking her hair.

Clara allowed herself to indulge in the comfort for a moment, then pulled away. She swiped the tears from her eyes and looked at her cousin, unable to keep the smile from her lips. 

"Everything went according to plan?" She could scarcely believe it.

He nodded. "Everything. The bags they'll receive at the warehouse are just full of mannequins, donated generously by an anonymous supporter."

"And they shouldn't even be interested in the trucks until the next researcher is ready for them, but that won't be until after my deadline, so we should be free and clear long before then." She felt the relief bleed into a feeling of euphoria. Maybe they could really pull this off!

They sat in silence for a moment, as Clara absorbed the information. She felt some of the tension leaving her body, able to breathe more freely than she had since Cyberlife first recruited her. The feeling left her lightheaded. 

"It's a little crazy downstairs," Eli said, shaking her from her thoughts. "They're throwing a party to welcome the newcomers. It's been a while since we've gotten in this many at once." He grabbed her hand, squeezing it. "And they owe it all to you." 

She ducked her head sheepishly. "You know I couldn't have done it alone," she said, smiling. "Everyone's done their part."

"You're right." He grinned again, falling silent for a moment. "They all love you, you know," he said, face thoughtful. "You've given them so much hope. The new deviants especially."

"I wish I could have been there to see them wake." She felt a twist of sadness.

"I know." He pulled her back into a hug. "They would have liked that too. Every single one of them asked about you. They all wanted to thank you personally." 

"I just hope I'll get a chance to hear them," she said, feeling a strange sense of foreboding.

"Of course you will." His voice was sincere, not holding even the shadow of a doubt. "When this is all over."

She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. After another moment, she pushed her blankets aside, moving to stand, then looked down at Eli, determined. 

"I'll keep North appraised of the next route, but I'll leave it up to her to choose her ambush spot." she said. "I'll need to vary it to keep Cyberlife off the trail. The virus I put in the trucks' systems should be untraceable too."

She froze for a moment, remember Connor's comments the previous day. "I think Connor suspects something though. I don't know what could have tipped him off, but I'll have to be very careful."

"Please do." Worry danced behind Eli's eyes. "We need you, Clara." 

The noose slipped tight again. She forced a smile. "I'll be fine."

He nodded. "I'll be downstairs most of the day, but you can text me if you need anything." 

"Alright." She gave him a small wave as he left the room, then quickly dressed for the day.

Before leaving the room, she entered the bathroom and leaned against the vanity for a moment, lost in thought. Then, sat on the floor, opening a cabinet. She reached into the very back, pulling out a small box. She stroked the lid for a moment, steeling herself, the opened it, pulling out a small dropper bottle of a transparent, pale-blue liquid. She pulled out another box containing small plastic capsules, each barely larger than a pill. 

Her hands shook as she unscrewed the dropper cap on the bottle. Once it was loose enough she set it down the floor beside her, then pulled out one of the capsules. Holding it in one trembling hand, she used the other to grab the dropper. She squeezed the bulb at the end, allowing pale liquid to fill the tube. Her hands shook violently, causing a few drops to spill.

Clara lowered the dropper with a sigh, careful not to spill any more, and closed her eyes, pushing the anxiety away with all her strength. She allowed herself to sink, growing more attuned to her body as she mentally worked through what she could feel. She took a moment to focus on the sensations around her. The cold of the hard tile beneath her. The draft from the bathroom window that sent a chill down spine. The tiny plastic pill pinched between her fingers. The fabric of her dress as it shifted with every breath. The weight of the glasses on her face. The sweet smell of the perfume she'd applied, and the lingering mint flavor coating her mouth from her toothpaste. She allowed every sensation to ground her, gradually displacing her anxiety.

As she took a few deep breaths, she felt her body relax, returning to a calm state, almost as if she'd never been anxious in the first place. Her hands were steady when she brought the dropper back up and filled the capsule to the brim. She returned the dropper to the bottle and sealed the capsule tight so no liquid could escape, then rinsed it to remove any liquid that may have spilled. She dried it on her skirt and set it on the counter while she cleaned up the mess.

Kneeling back on the floor, she screwed the cap back onto the bottle tightly and returned it to the box, tucking it into the furthest corner of the cabinet and pushing a few bottles in front to obscure it from view. She stood and grabbed a washcloth, running it under the water then bent down, wiping up the spilled drops, and tossed the washcloth into the laundry bin. She washed her hands thoroughly and dried them. Stepping back, she looked around, ensuring that there was no other trace. Satisfied, she left bathroom, leaving nothing behind but a faint odor like bitter almond, which in turn faded after a few seconds. 

She slipped the small capsule into a pocket of her dress, holding it tightly in her fist for a moment before letting go, praying she'd never need to use it.

*****

"Hello, Connor." Amanda's voice drew him into the Zen garden. 

Connor opened his eyes to see her standing a few yards away on the bridge to the island. 

"Hello, Amanda." He approached her, smiling. 

"It seems Dr. Hayes is finally researching in earnest," she remarked. "What has she been doing?"

He quickly explained the process he'd been observing in the lab, leaving out no detail. 

"I see. And how did she handle shutting them back down?" Amanda's voice was neutral. 

Connor hesitated for a moment, remembering the weight of her tears. "She...took it hard. She shut them all down, but it seemed to affect her mental state." 

Amanda pursed her lips, thinking. "I see. And what do you make of her overall mental state?"

"She's...determined," Connor started. "But it's taking a toll on her. She barely sleeps now, and barely eats. It's a miracle that she's still going. Most humans would buckle under the stress, but she seems to let it fuel her. It's...intriguing."

"Has she slipped at all yet? Have you found anything about what she's hiding?" She looked at him, eyes serious and intense. 

He thought again of his suspicion about her work with the rogue deviants. But he'd still had no proof. He hesitated. 

"Connor." 

Her tone sent him into alert. He looked to see her face twisted into a glare. 

"You're hiding something." She cocked her head, voice too calm. "What is it?"

He opened his mouth to speak, but faltered. "I--"

"Have you been compromised?" She leaned in close, voice soft. "Do I need to replace you? Would we be better of deactivating you and sending in the RK900?"

He felt a flicker of fear build inside him. "No," he choked.

"Prove it." She leveled his gaze at him, daring him to speak. "What have you been hiding?"

He resisted for a moment, but his fear compelled him, pushing the words out of his mouth. "I--I suspect Dr. Hayes has been working with the rogue deviants," he stuttered. "I believe she was the one who leaked her location to them when she was abducted."

He felt something crack against his cheek, stinging, causing his head to jerk to the side. He brought his hand up to his cheek, feeling...pain. Pain? It sent another jolt of fear through him. She'd slapped him.

"You kept this from us?!" Amanda hissed, eyes glowing a dangerous red. She grabbed the front of his collar with one hand, jerking him close. "Why?"

He felt himself shrink under the rage in her eyes. "I didn't have proof," he said, voice shaking. "I didn't want to disappoint you."

She stared at him silently, emotion boiling behind her eyes. He'd never seen her like this before.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

She breathed a heavy sight. "You should have told me sooner." She released his collar, stepping back. "I'll have Richard look into it."

Her voice and faced returned to neutral as she resumed walking. Connor took a deep breath, straightening his tie, then returned to her side. He kept a distance between them, afraid to get close. 

They walked in silence for a few minutes. 

"Do not disappoint me again," Amanda said after a moment, not looking at him. "This is your last chance, Connor. Find out what she's hiding."

"Yes, Amanda." His voice came out a resigned whisper as the garden fragmented around him. 

*****

When she arrived at the lab, Clara and her team began preparations for the next round of deviants, and now she and Simon sat hunched over an android, silently piecing it back together while Kara studied and transcribed notes in the interview room.

Their current patient was a big WB400 model, identical to Luther. It was in bad shape, having been salvaged from the battleground. As they worked, Clara was aware of the concerned glances she earned from Simon periodically. She tried to ignore him, but every look sent a twist of guilt through her.

Finally, he spoke.

"When's the last time you slept?" His voice was soft. "You look exhausted."

"I sleep every night, Simon." She continued working, patching a few wires together. She brought her hand up, brushing hair out of her eyes. 

"But for how long?" The concern in his eyes hurt her heart. 

"Long enough." She avoided his gaze. 

"Clara." His voice was soft and pleading. 

She closed her eyes, feeling the prick of tears. She took a few deep breaths, calming herself, then opened her eyes, looking at him. 

"You don't need to keep doing this." He reached out with a blue-stained hand, brushing a lock of hair behind her ear, eyes tender. "Don't you think you've done enough?"

She shook her head. "I can't stop now. There's still so much to do."

He sighed, face falling. "Then you should at least take some time to rest."

"I'll rest when this is over." She turned her attention back to the wires, connecting the last one. 

She replaced a few more damaged biocomponents and repaired the tubing that circulated the thirium, then pushed the panel on the android's torso back into place. She and Simon repaired its limbs, then replaced enough thirium for it to wake back up. 

It blinked for a moment, confused, then its LED flashed a deep red. Catching sight of Clara and her bloodstained hands, its face drew into an expression of rage, and with a cry, it lunged at her, knocking her to the ground, cracking her skull against the hard floor. 

Clara was crushed under the immense weight of the android as it wrapped its hands around her throat, squeezing hard. She thrashed beneath it, pulling at its hands, trying to loosen its grip, but to no avail. She managed to grab one of its fingers, bending it back and breaking it with a loud snap, but it had no effect. Androids didn't feel pain.

As blackness creeped into the edges of her vision, she was distantly aware of Connor and Simon shouting, tugging at the big android's shoulders. 

Just as her consciousness started to fade, a hot liquid gushed over her, soaking into her dress, splashing up onto her face and neck, and the pressure around her throat suddenly released, allowing air to flood back into her lungs. She opened her eye to see Connor standing over her, arm drenched in blue up to his elbow, a dripping thirium pump in his hands. He threw it aside quickly, and he and Simon pushed the big android off her. 

She sat up, coughing and choking, and looked around at the puddle of blue blood spreading out around her, soaking into her dress and tights. Simon rushed to her side, helping her up, moving her away from the puddle. She left a trail of bloody footprints behind her, shoes slipping slightly in the wetness.

"You killed him," she coughed, looking at the android's dripping corpse, horrified at the expression of rage still twisting his features.

She brought her hand up to her throat, feeling the ghost of the hands squeezing the life out of her. It would have killed her. It had awoken with a vengeance, immediately jumping to violence. She'd almost died.

"Are you alright?" Simon took her face in his hands, turning her gaze away from the android to look at him instead. 

She felt detached as she watched the room spin around her, feeling chills wrack her body. She was aware of her erratic heartbeat and shaking hands. Her breaths came shallow and jagged as her body began to shake.

"I'm..." She stumbled. She couldn't shake the face of the android from her mind. She could still feel him pressing down on her, looming and vengeful.

She tried again, words coming sluggishly. "You killed him."

She felt her legs crumple out from under her, and Connor rushed forward, he and Simon catching her. 

Connor pulled her away from the other android, standing. He said something to Simon, but she couldn't make out what it was. It was as if she were hearing him through water. Abruptly, he lurched into motion,  carrying her over to the gurney previously occupied by the very android that had nearly killed her. He set her down on it, looking her over. 

She found her gaze drawn back to the crumpled form of the android, lingering on his face. She felt her stomach twist nauseatingly with fear and guilt, suddenly grateful that she'd skipped breakfast.

Soft fingers brushed against her jaw, turning her face away from the body. She found herself looking into Connor's soft brown eyes.

"Dr. Hayes," he said, voice tentative. "I need you to listen to me. You're going to be okay. Just focus on me and my voice."

Distantly, she recognized the words as the ones she'd spoken to him on their first visit to Hank. When he'd gone into shock. 

"I need you to respond so that I know you understand me." Worry danced behind his eyes and his brows knit together. "Please, Clara."

As the ringing in her ears silenced, she shuddered, nodding. "I'm okay." She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "I'm okay."

Simon came close, pressing a hot mug into her hands. She closed her eyes and bowed her head, allowing the steam to billow into her face as she squeezed the warm ceramic, using it to ground her while she focused on maintaining her breathing. She stayed still for several minutes, blocking out everything except the warmth of the mug in her hands, and then gradually, she became more aware of her surroundings. 

Opening her eye, she noticed that Kara had left the interview room and was now staring at her with an expression of mixed horror and concern. Clara realized she was still drenched in blue blood. 

Suddenly, she was all too aware of it, and the way it stuck to her, matting her dress against her skin in a sticky mess. She couldn't stand it anymore.

"I need to change." Her voice sounded oddly calm to herself. 

She set the mug aside, then jumped down off the gurney. 

"Clara, you really shouldn't be moving around right now." Simon placed his hand on her arm, stopping her. 

Again, Clara caught sight of the android's body, the gaping hole in its chest, still oozing blood. She felt a flicker of horror and guilt. Simon followed her gaze, moving to block her view. He turned her face up toward him. "It wasn't your fault." 

"Please, let go." Clara's voice broke. "I need to change."

Kara intervened, coming to Clara's other side. "She'll be okay," she said, addressing Simon. "I'll stay with her."

Her LED flickered yellow as she had a silent conversation with Simon, and finally, he nodded, releasing Clara's arm. 

"Let's go." Kara offered her a smile. "I'll grab some clothes out of your bag."

Clara nodded, and she and Kara made their way to the bathroom. Once the door was shut, Clara stripped off her stained dress and tights, then started scrubbing the blue blood off her hands and arms with a wet rag. The blood had soaked into the skin around and under her fingernails and into the creases of her hands. Clara scrubbed hard, feeling a bud of panic growing. The blue wasn't coming out. She scrubbed harder, feeling her face crumple. She scrubbed harder, frantic now as tears welled up, obscuring her vision. Her breathing grew erratic again. The skin on her hands felt raw and tender. She scrubbed harder, causing the delicate skin on the back of one hand to tear, opening up the barely-healed scars from the screwdriver, bleeding a little. The sharp pain shocked her, causing her to pause for a moment. She scrubbed harder.

"Clara, stop!" 

Suddenly, she was yanked away from the sink. She lost her grip on the rag, dropping it onto the counter.

"You're hurting yourself!" Kara looked at her, eyes distressed.

Clara felt something snap, and the air squeezed out of her lungs. "It won't come off," she bawled, collapsing against the wall. She slid down to the floor, curling into a ball, still rubbing at her hands. "I can't get it off!"

"Shhhh." Kara pulled her into her arms, holding her close. Clara broke into sobs, clinging tightly to Kara. 

"They killed him!" She choked the words out. "They killed him, and it's my fault. I couldn't calm him down. I should have been able to calm him down. If they had just waited--"

Kara cut her off, speaking softly. "If they had waited, he would have killed you."

The android pulled away, cradling Clara's face in her hands. She stared into her face, eyes serious and warm. "Clara, listen to me. It is not your fault. That android attacked you out of nowhere. There was no way any one of us could have talked him down. He was desperate and afraid, and he acted without thinking."

She let go with one hand, grabbing the rag from the counter. Gently, she wiped the blood from Clara's face. "It is not your fault," she said, voice soft and stern. "Do not blame yourself."

Clara stared for a moment, then nodded, ducking her head. She took a deep breath and dried her tears. She was quiet as Kara helped wipe away the remaining blood, then allowed the android to help her get dressed in the loose grey sweatpants and white shirt that she usually gave to the reactivated androids. 

She needed to detach, Clara realized. She was letting the stress get the better of her. She needed to distance herself from the situation. If she broke under the pressure, everything would come crashing down. She couldn't afford to let herself falter.

When Clara stepped out of the bathroom, she appeared calm and composed, face and body betraying nothing of the turmoil in her head.

The space the android's body had left behind was conspicuously empty, leaving no trace that anything had even happened. She could almost believe that was the case were it not for the bruises ringing her neck and the weight of guilt on her shoulders. Idly, she fingered the capsule in her pocket, reassuring herself that it was there.

*****

Connor couldn't help but feel a flicker of concern every time he looked at Dr. Hayes. Her face was drawn and pale, dark circles showing through despite the makeup she'd put on that morning. And now the skin around her neck was stained dark with bruises in the shape of hands. Despite her stony expression, he could feel the restless energy propelling her forward. Her heartrate remained steady and constant, along with the rest of her vitals, but he could see the weight of her stress pressing down on her.

After she'd taken a little while to recover from the android's attempt to kill her, she had gone back to reactivating more, despite the protests of Simon and Kara. She would not be convinced to stop. She did, however, allow Simon to pull her away to a safe distance so he could finish the last few repairs on their current one before waking it up. Unlike the previous, this one was just lost and confused, they were able to calm it quickly and start processing it like all the ones before. The pattern continued, and no other android lashed out like the first.

Before Connor knew it, the week had ended, and Dr. Hayes and her assistants had finished processing the next batch of androids. Again, they went through the same shut down process, but this time, Dr. Hayes appeared more detached. She was still gentle with them, showing kindness and concern, but her eyes were dry, seeming more assured. As far as Connor could see, she hid emotions from everyone, including Simon and Kara, unwilling to let even them in as she kept everything wrapped tightly under lock and key. After a few hours, they had another pile of bodies ready for transport. 

Like last time, Dr. Hayes oversaw the loading process, ensuring that it was organized and efficient, then she programmed in the route to the warehouse. However, Connor noticed it was slightly different this time. 

"Why the different route?" he asked, curious.

"Just in case." Her words were cryptic. "You never know who might be monitoring."

Connor felt a flicker of suspicion. Why was she so paranoid?

"Feel free to check it over." She stood aside, gesturing. "If you think everything's in order, we'll send it off."

He did so, detecting nothing unusual from the truck. He pressed start then stepped out. As he watched  the truck disappear into the road, he couldn't shake the flicker of suspicion. Reluctantly, he expressed the suspicion to Amanda at his next meeting with her.

*****

The day after she'd sent the truck off from Cyberlife, Clara received another report from Eli, letting her know the second round of deviants had been safely recovered, and all were waking up in Zion free and happy. 

While it gave her a measure of relief, she couldn't help but feel uneasy. It was almost as if things were going too smoothly. She felt anxiety boiling under her skin, but she kept in under control. She had one more week before Cyberlife expected her report. 

With Kara and Simon's help, they worked through the last batch androids Cyberlife had given her. Within a few more days, there was only one left: Markus, the leader of the revolution himself.

Four days left until her deadline.

Chapter Text

The next morning, Clara woke up early, feeling a strange heaviness in her chest, one she recognized as a deep, familiar sense of melancholy. She looked at the clock on her nightstand, and seeing the date, the heaviness grew sharper. She rolled over willing herself to fall back asleep, but neither her mind nor her body would comply. Though exhausted, she was wide awake. Reluctantly, she climbed out of bed and slowly washed her face, applying light makeup to cover the dark circles, and then got dressed for the day.

She slipped into a deep red turtleneck, obscuring the deep bruises on her neck, then pulled a black blazer over top, along with a black pencil skirt and tights. She eyed the shoes, settling on a pair of black pumps. 

The house was still when she went downstairs. Eli was still asleep, and Connor was likely on standby in the living room. He didn't usually wake up until 7:00am. Clara walked to the entryway, spotting a bouquet of deep red roses and sprigs of baby's breath on one of the side tables. Eli's doing no doubt. He must have put it there after she'd gone to bed, knowing she wouldn't have had time to pick one up herself. 

She grabbed the bouquet, tucking it into the crook of her arm, and stepped outside into the cool morning air, closing the door softly behind her. 

*****

When Connor opened his eyes, coming out of standby at his usual time. He stood, making his way upstairs to check on Dr. Hayes. When he opened her door, he was met with a quiet stillness. Her bed was empty, blankets twisted in a jumbled mess.

"You won't find her in there." 

Connor spun around, hearing a voice behind him. Eli had just come out of his room and was rubbing a towel through his wet hair.

"She's gone to visit her parents," he continued, voice neutral. 

Connor felt a flicker of confusion. "They're dead."

Eli nodded. "Ten years ago today."

"Oh." So it was the anniversary of the fire.

Connor closed his eyes, establishing the link with Dr. Hayes' tracker. She was close, still on the property, at the far side of the lot. He opened his eyes, moving back down the hallway, and pushed past Eli.

The man reached out, putting a hand on Connor's shoulder, halting him. 

"She needs space." He looked at him, eyes serious. "Go after her if you must, but give her space. Don't push her today."

Connor absorbed the advice thoughtfully, then nodded. "Alright." 

Eli let go, and Connor made his way downstairs and outside. He stood outside, connecting with the tracker again, then allowed his program to calculate the route to her. As it finished, he walked around the side of the side of the house to the back. Several yards of grass stretched out behind the house, bordered by a tall green hedge, over which he could see the tops of an endless amount of trees. There was a break in the wall at one corner. Connor headed toward it. 

Through the break, he could see a small trail winding through the trees. He could see a set of footprints in the soft dirt of the trail. Analyzing them, he saw they were from a size 7 set of heels. Dr. Hayes. 

He followed the trail, noting several side trails that broke off, leading to various other unknown locations, but his route told him to follow this one. Eventually, he spotted a break in the trees. He came to a high wrought iron fence covered in desiccated vines that obscured what lay beyond. A few feet off to the side lay a set of double gates set into an arch. One side had been pulled open, and a few drops of red spotted the ground just inside, scattered like blood between the footprints. 

Connor crouched down, picking one up. He rubbed the velvety petal between his fingers, analyzing. Rosa rubiginosa. Unconsciously, he slipped the petal into the pocket of his jacket, then stood and continued through the fence. Looking around, he found himself in a small graveyard filled with tombstones and several weathered statues, many bearing the shriveled remains of flowers beneath them. Several of the gravestones were worn and crumbling, names lost to the decay of time. At the center of the space lay a large mausoleum, looming grand and imposing like a stone sentinel. The along the top, "HAYES" was printed in large letters in an arch above an ornate set of bronze doors leading in. They looked untouched.

From where he was standing, there was no sign of Dr. Hayes. Looking around, he spotted more footprints along one of the trails going around the mausoleum. He followed them, then toward the back of the graveyard he spotted a motionless figure standing in front of a large stone statue that depicted a man and a woman sitting together, holding hands with their heads bent together. A block of writing lay near the bottom edge of the stone they sat on. 

IN LOVING MEMORY OF CHARLES AND AMY HAYES
BELOVED PARENTS
NEVER FORGOTTEN

Connor turned his attention back to Dr. Hayes. He could hear the quiet lilt of her voice as she spoke softly to the statue, too soft for him to hear the words. She held a bouquet in her arms, one hand squeezing the stems tightly. There was an atmosphere of intimacy about her as she stood there quietly speaking in the still morning air. A gentle breeze flowed through the space, gently stirring her hair, causing a few strands to dance, catching the light.

Connor froze, feeling like he was intruding. Eli had been right. She needed space. There was no place for him here. He took a step back, intending to leave her alone, but his foot landed on a dry twig, breaking it with a quiet snap, shattering the stillness. 

Dr. Hayes' inhaled sharply, whirling around, startled, eyes wide. 

"I'm sorry," Connor said softly. "I didn't mean to disturb you."

She shook her head, calming, and looked down at the flowers in her hand. "It's alright. I was nearly finished anyway." She turned back to the statue.

Hesitantly, Connor stepped forward, coming to stand beside her. Now that he was closer to the statues, he recognized them as perfect replicas of her parents. They must have been carved by someone with incredible skill.

He turned his head to look at the woman beside him. Her face was drawn into a look of mild concentration, lips twitching with silent words as she worked through her thoughts.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked, unable to hold his curiosity.

She glanced at him, surprise flashing across her face. "Just remembering some things," she answered, turning back to the statue.

She was quiet for a moment, collecting her thoughts before continuing, voice thoughtful. "You know, memories are a funny thing. Humans can't replay their memories in perfect recall of what they've seen and experienced. Not like androids."

He remained silent, waiting for her to go on. A sad smile flickered across her lips. 

"For us, it's more like a room full of puzzle boxes. With every memory, all the pieces are there, but every time we recall something, we need to reassemble it from scratch." Her face was distant and calm. "Everything's there somewhere, but pieces sometimes get lost or put back in the wrong box."

She looked again at him with an unreadable expression. "Sometimes I think about how even if I were unable to recall something, the pieces of the memories themselves would still be somewhere inside me. They'd just be out of reach."

"What are you getting at?" he asked softly, unable to follow her thoughts.

She sighed, turning back to the grave. "I'm afraid," she confessed. "Afraid that someday I'll wake up and I won't be able to recall my parent's voices or the way they smiled. And the idea that the memories of them could still be inside me but somehow untouchable terrifies me." She reached out, stroking her fingers lightly over the statues' joined hands. "My dad would always caution me to remember who I am and what I choose to stand for. He said if I keep those things in mind, I'll never go astray."

Her face fell a little. "But I know how unreliable memory can be. I'm afraid that someday I'll forget everything that makes me who I am."

Connor watched her closely, observing the way her face flickered through various emotions, making note of the subtle way her face shifted. 

Noticing his attention, she looked up at him. "What are you afraid of, Connor?" she asked, voice soft.

Amanda's face crossed his mind, face twisted in anger, eyes glowing red, the thought of her rage and disappointment, of failing her and the mission, the sharp sting from when she'd slapped him. "I'm not programmed to feel fear," he answered. 

"So you say." The words dripped softly from her lips, barely audible.

She turned back to the statue, squaring her shoulders, and set the bouquet down, laying it across the joined hands. As she pulled away, Connor noticed several flecks of blood dotting the stems. She'd pricked herself on the thorns. 

Carefully, he grabbed the hand that had been squeezed around the bouquet, bringing it up to look at it.

"You're bleeding." He rubbed his fingers over her palm gently, noting several small punctures.

"I'm fine." She pulled her hand away, clenching it in a fist by her side. 

She turned away and walked quickly out of the cemetery, stepping carefully around the crumbing stones.  Connor trailed behind her silently, feeling a strange, inexplicable sense of sadness.

Without returning back inside, they left for the lab.

*****

After her visit the graveyard that morning, Clara felt an odd sense of calm, like the anxiety that had churned for the last two weeks had ebbed to the gentle spill of waves across sand rather than the tumult of a hurricane. It was still pulsing there in the back of her mind, but not with the same intensity. Today, it was manageable. She embraced that calm, allowing it to strengthen her resolve and carry her through the exhaustion that had come to reside deep in her bones. 

Now she sat with Simon, hunched over another body. Markus. It had been hard for Simon to see his friend like this, but the success they'd had with reactivation so far gave him the hope and determination he needed to set aside the grief. 

Looking him over, Clara could see he was in terrible shape. His body was speckled with dirt and held several deep wounds from the battle all those months ago. Another bullet had torn through his skull, damaging his synthetic brain. Clara was in the process of repairing that while Simon took care of the body wounds. It was a delicate procedure, reconnecting and soldering wires and replacing the tiny components, rebuilding the area the bullet had ripped through. She hoped that when he woke up, he'd retain his memories and the things that made him who he was. She prayed that nothing of him had been damaged when Connor had killed him. She wouldn't wish that on anyone.

After a few hours, they'd finished with the major repairs. Clara brought the delicate piece she'd been working on and reconnected inside Markus's head. She replaced the damaged panels on his face and head, including his LED, while Simon replaced the ones on his body. Soon all that was left was to replace the depleted thirium. 

Clara stepped away, allowing Simon to complete this part. Markus had died violently, and she wasn't eager to repeat her experience with the WB400. 

Simon finished his part, then grabbed Markus's hand, retracting his synthetic skin to interface with him, then closed his eyes. 

"Wake up, Markus," he whispered. 

After a few seconds, his LED flickered to life, and his eyes shot open. The mismatched gaze flitted around the room for a second, then focused on Simon. His eyes widened in surprise, lips parting, stunned. 

"Simon?" he whispered.

Simon nodded, LED flickering red with emotion. "It's me, Markus." 

Markus sat upright, pulling Simon into a hug. "I never thought I'd see you again." His words were muffled as he buried his face against his friend. 

Simon returned the hug, face twisting in relief as tears started to slide down his cheeks. "After the tower, I never thought I'd see you again either."

They pulled away from each other after a moment. Markus looked around in confusion, before noticing Clara. She stepped forward, offering him a tentative smile. Simon turned to her, holding out a hand. She took it, allowing him to pull her forward to stand next to him. 

"This is Clara," he said, introducing her. "We're in her lab. She's responsible for all this." He gave her a wide smile.

"I see." Markus looked her over cautiously. 

After a moment, he held out a hand to her. She took it gingerly, shaking it. "How are you feeling?" she asked. "Any damage or memory corruption?"

He closed his eyes, LED flickering as he ran a diagnostic. "Some memory corruption," he said, opening them. "But everything else is in working order."

"Alright." Clara stepped away. "I'll get you a change of clothes, then Simon will brief you."

She headed toward her desk, pulling out a set of the usual clothes, then brought them over to Markus. As she returned, she noticed him looking around. Suddenly, he stiffened, LED flashing red as his face drew into a hard mask. 

"What's he doing here?" he spat, catching sight of Connor.

"Cyberlife assigned me to look after Dr. Hayes," Connor said, voice neutral. "I'm just completing my mission. As long as you refrain from attacking her, killing you again will not be part of that mission."

Disbelief and horror crossed Markus's face as he looked again at Clara. "You're with Cyberlife?" His LED flashed red again, indicating rising stress. 

"Not by choice, but yes." She spoke carefully, not wanting to agitate him more.

"You knew this?" He turned his gaze on Simon, looking betrayed.

Simon sighed, ducking his head. "It's a long story." He held out his hand, once more retracting the synthetic skin. 

Markus looked doubtful for a moment, then softened. He took Simon's hand. And both android's closed their eyes as they interfaced with each other. Gradually, a look of understanding crossed Markus's face. After a moment, they opened their eyes. 

When Markus next looked at her, respect danced behind his eyes, and he smiled softly at her. Knowing it was now safe to approach, Clara handed him the set of clothes. 

"The bathroom's over there," she said, gesturing. "Feel free to wash up and get changed. We'll talk when you're finished."

He nodded, jumping down off the gurney, then headed to the indicated door.

Clara moved back to her desk, pulling out her laptop and tablet. She heard Connor slowly approach. 

"How do you gain their trust so easily?" he asked, giving her a bewildered look. "All of them. You've won every single deviant you've talked to over."

"A little kindness goes a long way," she said. "It was like I told you during that first week. Safety and comfort bring openness and trust. I've created a space and strategy that allows them to feel safety, and when they feel safe, they're more likely to trust. With Markus in particular, having Simon here helps. He trusts Simon, and Simon trusts me, so he's more willing to trust me by default. Kind of like the transitive law in math."

The bathroom door opened, and Markus stepped out, clean and dressed. Leaving Connor by the desk, Clara smiled at him, then showed him into the interview room. He followed her, along with Simon and Kara. Markus greeted Kara with a smile as well.

"I'm glad you're okay too," he said. "I'm sorry we couldn't protect you at Jericho."

She returned the smile. "It's in the past now. Alice and Luther are okay too." 

"I'm glad." He turned back to Clara, who had just finished adjusting the settings on the room to keep the sound in. 

"I saw what you've done for us," he said. "Simon showed me everything."

"Good. Then you know what's at stake here." She gave him a grim smile.

"I do." His voice was sober.

"Before we take you there, I want your word that you won't try to draw my people into another war." She kept her tone serious. "We've worked hard to create a peaceful place, and I will not allow it to be compromised. Not even by you."

A frown flickered across his face, but he nodded. "You have my word."

"Good." She reverted to a businesslike demeanor. "Now, here's how things are gonna go from here."

She explained to him the process that they'd being going through for each deviant they'd reactivated. He agreed to participate, answering Clara's questions for the initial interview as she took detailed notes. He was missing some memories from the time before he deviated, and there was some corruption around his time as the leader of Jericho, but most things were intact. While they did this, Simon had left the room to clean up the mess they'd made during the reactivation while Kara set up Clara's laptop for the next portion of the research. 

After some time, Clara and Markus finished the briefing, and she led him out to the desk where he allowed Kara to connect him to the program before moving through the scripted questions. Clara observed his reactions, again taking careful notes, and then they packed him away to the cells with the rest. She let Simon and Kara to stay in the cell with him, giving them an opportunity catch up. 

When she returned to her lab, it was just her and Connor. She gave him a small smile, then packed up her bag, getting ready to leave. A few times, she glanced up to see him watching her with a peculiar expression. She sighed, deliberately ignoring him, then slung her bag over her shoulder, leaving the lab. She heard his footsteps quicken to catch up. 

Chapter Text

When Connor and Dr. Hayes returned to the Tower the next day, they were met by Ms. Alvarez. She stood just inside the lobby, tapping her foot impatiently while she waited for them to approach. When they were close enough, she spoke, giving Dr. Hayes an imperious look.

"The board reminds you that you have two days until your deadline. They expect you to have something they can work with by then. The board further reminds you that they expect ALL the deviants you've worked with to be transported to the warehouse prior to your deadline." Her face split into a smug smirk. "This includes your assistants."

Through his connection to her wrist device, Connor felt a slight elevation in Dr. Hayes heartrate, but it settled again quickly. Her face dropped into a blank expression, showing no indication of  distress at the words.

Dr. Hayes was quiet for a moment, then her lips twisted into a cynical smile, eyes darkening.

"I understand," she said, voice neutral. "After all, Cyberlife's wish is my command." She gave a flourishing bow. "I'd hate to disappoint them."

A flash of irritation crossed the intern's face. "You're awfully glib for someone walking such a fine line."

"You know me, Maria." Dr. Hayes tilted her chin up, leveling her gaze at the woman. "I aim to please." 

She straightened, giving Ms. Alvarez a smug look. 

The intern gritted her teeth, scowling. She stepped close, getting up into the doctor's face.

"The only reason we're tolerating this attitude," she hissed, "is because there's a slight chance you have something to offer, you disrespectful little bitch."

She poked a finger into Dr. Hayes' chest, continuing. "But if you don't please the board, it's over for you. You'll be left with nothing. Then we'll see who's laughing."

Dr. Hayes gazed at the intern calmly as she took a small step back, crossing her arms over her chest, and scoffed. "You know, that's still better than whatever you are, nepo baby. I least I know I earned my place. Can you say the same? How many boots did your parents lick to get you in here?"

She raised an eyebrow disdainfully, looking the intern up and down, and took another slow step back. "Or did you lick them yourself? Maybe you licked something else. Had to get the board's attention somehow, right?"

Sensing the growing tension between the two women, Connor monitored both closely, gauging their reactions, ready to intervene should it get out of hand. Dr. Hayes remained calm and steady, betraying no physiological signs of high emotion. Ms. Alvarez, on the other hand, showed signs of agitation. Her heartrate spiked, knuckles white as her fists trembled, face drawing down into a sharp glare. She clenched her jaw, lips twitching wordlessly.

"What," Dr. Hayes taunted, fixing her expression into one of mock concern, "did I hurt your feelings? Gonna go cry to the board now? Gonna go tell them the big bad doctor said something mean?"

Ms. Alvarez clenched her fists, taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm herself, but her heartrate and other vital signs indicated increased agitation. 

Connor glanced at Dr. Hayes, gauging her reaction. He saw a flicker of dark amusement in her eyes as she remained steady.

Stepping back again, the doctor continued, voice reverting to a calm, ruthless tone. "Do you know what your deepest insecurity is, Ms. Alvarez?" She cocked her head to the side. "Because I do."

She leaned slightly forward, lowering her voice. "You're plagued by the knowledge that you didn't get into this position based on your own merits. You know that despite your best efforts, you've never been good enough. Every opportunity you've every had was handed to you by someone else."

Connor watched as Ms. Alvarez's face flushed a deep red at the words, frozen as Dr. Hayes picked her apart with a ruthless efficiency. Worried it would get ugly, he moved to intervene, but a sharp look from Dr. Hayes stopped him.

"It's alright, Connor." She held her hand up. "We're just having a friendly conversation. Besides, she knows I'm telling the truth."

She turned back to Ms. Alvarez. "Isn't that right, Maria?"

"Shut up!" the intern snapped, clenching her teeth. 

Noticing the reaction, Dr. Hayes pushed harder, the corner of her mouth drawing into a crooked smirk. "You know you bring nothing to the table except your eagerness to please. You'll do anything they tell you without question because deep down, you know you don't deserve to be here, and you're deeply afraid of disappointing them."

She took a half step forward, lowering her voice. "You're not valuable, Maria. You're pliable. And just barely competent enough to keep. Deep down, you know you're nothing but a shameless, bootlicking, sycophant. And that's why they tolerate you."

"I said shut up!" the woman shrieked, lunging forward to grab her.

Dr. Hayes sidestepped her easily, hand snaking around one of her outstretched arms. She twisted around, following the intern's momentum, then hooked a foot around her ankle, sending her sprawling to the ground. Ms. Alvarez landed hard, catching herself on her hands and knees, breathing heavily in rage and surprise.

Dr. Hayes crouched beside her, bowing her head close. "I've never made the mistake of thinking Cyberlife cares a whit about me beyond what they can use me for," she whispered. "I hope you'll learn to do the same."

With that, she turned heading for the elevator, high heels clicking against the hard floor with every step. Connor was frozen for a moment, stunned by by the exchange.

At the elevator, she halted, glancing at him. "Coming, Connor?"

He nodded, rushing to catch up. Once they were in the elevator, he watched Dr. Hayes slump against the wall, seeming to let the exhaustion settle back over her. He looked at her cautiously.

"How did you know all that about her?" he asked. "Did you run a background check?"

"No," she said, voice light. "I just observed. Learning people's insecurities isn't hard when you know what to look for. And it doesn't really matter whether or not it's true as long as they think it is. With Ms. Alvarez, she puts on a front and throws her weight around, but she is clearly self-conscious about how she ended up here, so that's where I stabbed."

She raised an eyebrow at him as the corner of her mouth twitched up into a tired, crooked smile. "Just because I don't usually use it against people doesn't mean I can't."

A memory surfaced of a conversation he'd had with the doctor those weeks ago. It doesn't matter if a person is human or android. In the end, they'll all respond predictably when presented with the right circumstances.

Considering this, Connor closed his eyes, replaying the interaction in his mind and carefully studied Dr. Hayes actions and words. The first thing she'd done when she started making her digs at Ms. Alvarez was establish distance. That action had prepared her for her efficient takedown when the intern lashed out. Watching the recording, he realized that every move, every word had been controlled, deliberate. She'd known exactly what to say to get the reaction she expected.

When he opened his eyes again, he looked back at the doctor. "You provoked her intentionally. Why?"

"Because sometimes I get tired of being the bigger person." She frowned. "And after all the crap she's put me through over the last few weeks, she needed to be taken down a peg or two."

Connor nodded, then fell silent, processing the information. In the events of the last two weeks, he'd forgotten how manipulative the doctor could be. She'd hidden that side of herself under a thick blanket of stress and exhaustion, and he'd fallen for it without even realizing.

*****

When Connor turned away, Clara covertly slipped Ms. Alvarez's key card into her pocket where it sat heavily next to the ever-present capsule. She idly fingered it for a moment, feeling a small twinge of guilt at preying on the woman's insecurities, but it was quickly tamped down as she remembered the woman's glee at the thought of Simon and Kara getting shut down.

Pushing aside the thoughts, she shouldered her determination, knowing this was the last leg of her journey. She just needed to get this last batch of deviants free, and then she could breathe again. As soon as she knew they were safe, she could relax. She took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment. 

Abruptly, the elevator came to a stop, door opening to their usual floor. Clara stepped out, hearing Connor walk a few steps behind. They wound their way through hallways then stopped at the door to the cells. Clara opened it, stepping in. 

She was greeted by the smiles of Kara and Simon as they waved to her from their cell. She walked over to them, unlocking it.

"Let's get started," she said, offering them a sad smile. 

They returned to the lab and began the shutdown process for the last set of androids, starting with Markus. 

Clara sat across from the former leader, explaining to him the things she'd explained to so many before him. 

"You'll wake up in about 24 hours. By then you should be in Zion." She smiled softly. "I know of at least two androids who will be happy to see you there."

Markus nodded. "Simon told me everything."

Slowly, his face fell. "If I'd known there was such a place, that would have changed everything. Jericho was all I had. All most of us had. And when it fell..."

Clara reached out, taking his hand and giving it a light squeeze. Markus looked at her in surprise, but smiled gently. 

"That's over now," she said. "You can have a fresh start."

She felt a flicker of anxiety and pulled away. "First we just need to make it past this part."

She held out her other hand, the one wearing her watch, offering it to him. 

After a moment's hesitation, he took a deep breath and grabbed her wrist. Slowly his eyes flickered shut, LED going dark, and he slumped in the chair. Then, with tears in his eyes, Simon carried Markus out of the interview room, placing him in one of the black bags along the wall.

The procession of deviants came through, several breaking down into tears, afraid their hope was false, but each one willingly allowed Clara to shut them down. Each body piled along the wall added another stone to Clara's pack, weighing heavily on her. Finally, all that was left were Kara and Simon. 

Clara turned to them, feeling the prick of tears in her eyes. She knew the shutdown wasn't permanent, but she still felt a heavy sorrow settling over her, knowing she was about to lose her only two allies in this place. She didn't want to let them go. 

Kara stepped forward first, looking at Clara with eyes full of trust. She held out her hand with no hesitation. 

"I'm ready to see Alice and Luther again," she said, smiling. "Thank you for giving me this chance."

Clara nodded. "Thank you for everything, Kara." 

She wrapped her arms around the android in a quick hug, chin quivering, then pulled back and allowed Kara to interface with the watch. As the small android collapsed, Simon caught her, and he and Clara placed her carefully into another bag, 

Simon zipped it up then stood, looking at her with soft eyes. Clara felt a well of sorrow pool up inside her as she met his gaze. What if everything went wrong? What if the plan didn't work this time? What if they were caught? What if this was going to be the last time she saw him?

"Simon," she started, voice trembling. "What if--"

He cut her off, holding up his hand with a gentle smile. "No, Clara. Don't start thinking like that. I trust you. Don't second guess yourself."

Clara looked away, unable to hold back her tears. She felt gentle fingers brush along her jaw as he turned her face to look at him. His other hand slid slowly down her arm, wrapping around her hand and squeezing gently. 

"It's going to be okay," he said, voice tender and full of trust. "I'll see you again soon. This isn't goodbye."

He pressed a kiss against her forehead, then pulled her into a hug. "You're almost there, Clara," he murmured against the top of her head. "Don't give up now."

She hugged him back, tucking her face into his chest. "You're the best friend I've ever had, Simon," she confessed, voice muffled against his sweater. "You better make it to Zion safely."

He pulled away for a moment, looking down at her. "Show me the garden when this is all over?" He gave her a soft smile. "It's nearly springtime."

"I will." Clara's voice trembled.

He knelt to the ground, pulling her with him, slowly climbing into a bag to lie down. He looked up at her, smiling. "I'm ready."

She nodded, tears falling freely, then grabbed his wrist, allowing the virus to do its work. Gradually, his face relaxed into a blank mask, eyes flickering shut as his LED dimmed and went dark. 

This isn't permanent, she reminded herself, holding back a sob. She'd see him again soon. It would be okay. North's team would get them out of there, and she see him again in Zion. Until then, she needed to keep going. He was right. She was almost there.

She tucked the keycard into his pocket, along with her watch, then slowly zipped the bag up, obscuring his lifeless face. 

*****

Connor watched as Dr. Hayes finished shutting down the last deviant. Tears streaked down her face as she closed the bag around Simon, shoulders shaking with silent sobs. She kneeled there for a moment, head bowed and still, then gradually, she stood, face taking on a look of determination. 

She stepped out of the interrogation room and looked at him with red-rimmed eyes. Taking a shaky breath, she walked toward him. 

"Call the maintenance androids down," she said. "We're done here."

He nodded, closing his eyes to send the message. When he opened them, he noticed that she'd moved to her desk and had pulled out her tablet. She was staring at the screen, chewing idly on the end of her stylus, appearing lost in thought. 

"Dr. Hayes?" he asked, approaching her slowly. 

She jumped, startled, then looked at him. 

"Are you alright?" He felt a flicker of concern. She looked so tired and pale, completely drained of the energy she'd shown during her argument with Ms. Alvarez. 

She nodded slowly, face unsure. 

"It's just so quiet without Simon and Kara." The words were barely audible. 

Connor came to stand beside her, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. 

"I'm sorry," he said. "I know it was hard to shut them down."

She avoided his gaze, eyebrows knitting together as her face fell, nodding. 

"How did you convince them all to go willingly?" He couldn't stop the question. 

Her eyes flicked up to meet his, expression unreadable. 

"I gave them hope," she answered, voice quiet. "Hope that maybe the next time they woke, they'd find themselves in a better place. A place where they could be free."

"You lied to them." He looked at her in disbelief. "You can't know that it'll be better. Isn't a false hope more cruel than the truth?"

"Is it ever cruel to hope?"

Connor fell silent, unsure how to answer. 

She sighed. "I sent them off with a beautiful dream. I'd take that over any bitter truth."

The door swung open, interrupting the conversation as several maintenance androids poured in. They shuffled around, doing the work of moving the bodies up to the loading bay. 

Dr. Hayes watched the progress, then, when the last body was taken, she stood, following the procession. Connor followed likewise, and they oversaw the process of loading the bags before Dr. Hayes programmed in the route for the warehouse a final time. She was silent as she watched it move away. 

When it was out of sight, she turned to him. "Let's go." 

He nodded, and they returned to the lab. It felt empty without the two deviants. Connor had grown accustomed to their presence despite the initial friction. He quietly observed Dr. Hayes as she shuffled around, packing away her research items. She was quiet and seemed...dejected. 

"Are you alright?" he asked softly, moving to stand beside her. 

She held the strap of the bag in her hands, squeezing it tightly. "I will be." 

She slid her tablet in then zipped it closed, throwing the bag over her shoulder, then looked at him, gesturing with her head. They made their way up to the lobby and climbed into Dr. Hayes' waiting car. She programmed in the coordinates for her home then fell silent, staring blankly out the window. Connor watched her for a moment, then a memory surfaced. 

"Dr. Hayes?" Connor spoke softly. 

"Hmm?" she looked at him. 

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Go ahead." 

"Why did you never tell me you knew Lieutenant Anderson?" He observed her, gauging her reaction. 

"Eli told you?" She returned to staring out the window. 

"He said the lieutenant is the one who saved you when you were nearly kidnapped as a child." Connor recalled the story. 

"Yes. He was a good cop." She smiled softly. "I kept in contact for a while afterwards. I would send him cards on the holidays for a few years. But I haven't talked to him in a very long time." 

Connor was silent, waiting for her to answer the question.

She sighed, looking at him. "I didn't think it was relevant information when I first met you. And then it never really came up. I wasn't intentionally keeping it a secret. I just didn't think it was all that important. It was a long time ago."

"I see." He considered for a moment. "Why didn't you keep in contact?"

She stiffened, face falling. "After my parents died, I wasn't much interested in talking to anyone for a while. Then I just never really reached out again."

She turned to meet his gaze again. "Grief's a funny thing, Connor. It sticks to you like a burr, digging its hooks in deep, then stays for a while. Eventually, you learn to live with it. But when it first starts to stick, it can make you act in ways you wouldn't if you were in your right mind. You lose connections with others, and those connections aren't always easy to repair."

"Is that what happened between the lieutenant and Detective Reed?" He remembered the detective’s words back at the hospital. 

Dr. Hayes nodded. "It's likely."

"I see."

"We're delicate creatures, Connor. It doesn't take much for some of us to reach a breaking point. And emotions are a beast to handle, as I'm sure you've felt." She gave him a knowing look. 

"Doctor, I don't--"

She cut him off. "You can lie to yourself, Connor, but you can't lie to me."

She leaned forward, giving him a peculiar look. "I won't push you on it, but just keep that in mind."

Connor fell silent, once again not knowing what to say. Dr. Hayes looked at him a moment longer, then turned away, gazing back out the window. When they arrived home, she disappeared into her office, no doubt getting started on her proposal for the board. She didn't come out until late into the night.

When Connor checked on her late in the dark hours of morning, he found her sitting on her windowsill staring blankly out at the sky, awake but unaware of the quiet opening and closing of the door as he looked in on her.

Chapter Text

A knock on Clara's door startled her awake. She sat up stiffly, realizing she'd fallen asleep on the window sill. She swung her legs off, standing up to stretch.

The knock sounded again.

"Come in," she said, yawning.

The door opened, and Eli stepped in. He wore a wide grin as he walked toward her.

"Everyone made it," he said. "The last batch came in late last night."

Clara felt the air punch from her lungs. She leaned back against the windowsill, lightheaded.

"Everyone?"

"Everyone." Eli pulled her into a hug, squeezing her tightly. "You did it, little goose!"

Her body began to tremble as she felt the vise around her heart release. She took a shaky breath, tentatively bringing her arms up to hug him back.

He stroked her hair, holding her tight. "It's going to be okay now."

"They're all safe?" The words came out halting.

"They're all safe." His breath brushed against the top of her head. "Everyone."

She felt tears leak from her eyes, slowly at first, then a deluge. A sob tore out of her, muffled against Eli's shoulder. Simon, Kara, everyone. They were okay! She could breathe again. She pulled away, laughing.

"They're okay!" Her face split into a grin as she wiped away her tears. She felt another laugh bubbling up in her chest, heart feeling lighter than it had in weeks.

Eli returned her smile for a moment, then his face grew serious.

"It was close though," he continued. "There were several patrols set up along the route. I think they were expecting trouble. North had a hard time finding a good intercept spot."

She nodded. "I think Connor may have tipped them off. He seemed suspicious of me when I changed the route."

"But they couldn't beat that little brain of yours." He patted the top of her head. "You little criminal mastermind."

Clara felt a niggling worry in the back of her brain. "I wouldn't be so quick to count our chickens yet. Have North and her team pull back to Zion, and tell the other agents to keep their heads down. No more arrivals for the time being."

"Why?" Eli's eyebrows rose. "We should be in the clear."

"I know." Her face drew into a frown. "I just have a bad feeling. Have everyone stay put at least until after I know where I stand with Cyberlife. If Connor really did tip them off about anything, they could have people watching. I don't want to take any unnecessary risks."

He nodded. "Alright. I trust your gut. What's the next step?"

She pursed her lips. "Now I need to fool the board. I'll need to convince them that I tried, but not be so good that they view me as more of a threat or want to keep me. It'll be tough."

"Well, if anyone can figure out how to do it, it's you." He ruffled her hair playfully. 

"I certainly hope so." She felt the vise tighten again. "I have a lot of work to do if I'm going to pull this off."

"We'll be behind you every step of the way." He grabbed her shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. 

Clara placed her hand over his. "Thanks, Eli."

He turned away, heading out of the room. "I'll be downstairs most of the day making sure everyone settles in well." He gave her a small smile and a wave.

She nodded. "Alright."

*****

Connor was jolted out of stasis by a request for wireless connection. With a start, he recognized the serial number as the RK900, Richard. Tentatively, he opened the link.

Richard's thoughts came clear and steady, but they held a note of warning. There have been signs of deviants lingering around your area. The group we've been tracking disappeared in the area of Dr. Hayes' property. As of yet, their purpose is unknown.

Connor felt a small flash of alarm. Why are you telling me this? 

Dr. Hayes is your mission, so it seemed fitting you should know. That way you can stay alert.

Does Amanda know you told me?

She does. Richard answered honestly. We're aware of your suspicions that she worked with them during the abduction. Detective Reed and I have looked into it, but nothing has turned up. If she's further involved, she's done a remarkable job at hiding it. 

Connor sent his affirmation. I'll keep an eye out for any signs of involvement on my end.

Just then, Connor was struck by a thought. The trucks. She'd behaved oddly when programming him, but nothing had indicated a problem with their arrival. Even so, it wouldn't hurt to follow up. Have you checked the trucks Dr. Hayes had delivered to the warehouse?

There was a brief pause on Richard's end, but he answered. Preliminary checks indicated that nothing went awry with the transport. The number of body bags matches the shipping manifest, and the patrols we put out didn't run into any trouble aside from a slight delay in the expected arrival time. There was another pause. Why? Do you suspect something?

Connor felt a flicker of caution, but answered honestly. I'm not sure yet. Just a feeling.

There was a pause on the other side as Richard considered the information. We'll look into it.

Abruptly, the connection was cut. Connor looked around the living room. It was nearly seven anyway. He stood, heading for the stairs to check on Dr. Hayes. However, a light from beneath her office door caught his attention. Was she already awake? He walked toward it, knocking tentatively on the door. 

"Come in." 

He opened it to see Dr. Hayes sitting on the floor with a mess of papers strewn around her. She'd pushed the heavy wooden desk against a wall, clearing the middle of the floor. Connor recognized the papers as the charts generated by her program. 

"Good morning." She spared him a glance then went back to rearranging the papers. 

Observing her, Connor could see she bore the pale face and dark circles of a sleepless night. She had her hair tied up into a tangled bun, but several strands had escaped, framing her face. She'd also traded her usual professional attire for black leggings and a loose crop top.

"Are we not going into the lab today?" He looked at her curiously. 

"Nope." She shuffled a few papers into a pile. "There's no point. All my research is here, and it's not like I have anymore patients there to look after."

"Won't Cyberlife be expecting you to show up?"

"Probably." She continued sorting. "But per my contract, I can come and go as I please. Today, it pleases me not to go, so I shan't." She glanced up at him. "So unless you plan on dragging me there..."

He held up his hands in surrender. "Point taken." He looked back at the floor, trying to make sense of everything. He still didn't quite understand the charts, and it didn't help that the notes on the margins and sticky notes were written in her odd cipher. 

Abruptly, she stood, taking a couple steps back. "Come here." She gestured with her hand, not taking her eyes off the papers. 

Connor complied, stepping gingerly on the floor between the papers, careful not to rumple any of them. He stood beside Dr. Hayes, and she pointed down at the charts. 

"What do you see?" She looked at him expectantly, chewing idly on the end of her pen. 

He looked down, trying to make sense of the mess. The data on the charts meant nothing to him as of yet. She'd never told him how to read them. He analyzed them, running a search for similar charts. 

"They look like EEG's, but not like any I'm familiar with. Your variables are different."

"You're getting there. I'll give you a hint." She turned back to the charts. "Every frequency wave is associated with a particular emotion."

He thought for a moment. "So each frequency depicts the intensity of the emotion the deviant was feeling?"

"Warmer. What do EEG's measure?"

"Dr. Hayes, I'm not a medical android."  

"I know. You can search though, can't you?" She quirked an eyebrow at him. 

He sighed, then closed his eyes, looking it up. "EEG's measure brain activity."

"Correct! And if this is similar to an EEG..." She waved her hand, pushing him to continue.

"Then your charts are measuring brain activity." There was a note of impatience in his tone.

"Or at least the android equivalent." She gave him a small smile then turned back to the charts. 

"You see, we don't have a reliable way of gauging emotion accurately even in humans. That's why they're so hard to define. So, many of us resort to measuring brain activity instead. Human brains show increased electrical activity when experiencing intense emotion, and I've found that android brains do the same." She gestured to the scattered papers. "These are charts from every deviant I've studied. What do you notice?"

He looked at them again. "They all show similar patterns."

"Correct!" Her voice rose. She bent down, grabbing a chart. And held it up for him to see. 

"Look at this chart in particular."

He complied, analyzing it carefully. The name had been blacked out, but all the frequencies were labelled with an emotion. "So whoever this deviant is, they showed and intense reaction to your questions about fear and regret?"

"Yes!" The corner of her mouth drew up into a smile. 

He squinted at it again. "But no reaction at all to anything after fear."

She fell quiet for a moment before answering. "Well, the patient didn't want to continue the interview, so I don't have data on those emotions."

"I see. Who was it?" He looked at her curiously. 

"Now that's doctor-patient privilege." She gave him a wink. "Name's blacked out for a reason."

He felt a flicker of suspicion. "Why are you telling me all this?" he asked, voice hesitant. "When we first started this, you didn't want me to know how to read your data, so why now?"

"Things happen." Her face fell. "Besides, I'm about to explain it all to the Cyberlife board anyway, so I see no point in hiding it anymore. And, until they somehow figure out a way to replicate my program, knowing how to read the data won't do them any good."

She went silent, chewing her lip as she looked the charts over. She bent down, rearranging a few, then started pulling them all into stacks. "You're welcome to stick around if you'd like, but I've got a ton of processing before this will make any reasonable sense to the board tomorrow."

"Very well." He stepped back to the edge of the room toward her desk, then leaned against it, observing her while she worked. 

*****

Several weeks ago, Clara would have found Connor's scrutiny unnerving. But now, she was accustomed to his presence, finding it comforting even. Periodically, she'd steal glances at him, trying to gauge his thoughts. Much of the time, he had his eyes closed, whether in stand-by or just thinking, she couldn't tell. Eventually, the morning slipped away, and Clara found herself feeling restless. Setting her laptop aside, she stood, stretching. 

Connor, alerted by her movement, opened his eyes. "Is everything okay?"

She nodded. "Yep. I just need to move around a bit." She headed toward the door to the office, then halted, turning to look at him. "You coming?"

"Yes." He stepped carefully around the remaining piles of paper then followed her out into the hallway. 

Clara made her way to the kitchen and set about making a cup of tea. She grabbed her kettle, filling it with water, then placed it on the stove to heat. While it did that, she grabbed a loaf of bread and a jar of peanut butter out of a cabinet then snagged the jelly from the fridge. She quickly made a sandwich, then put the ingredients back. As she took a bite, she noticed Connor watching her with a look of slight disapproval. 

"That's not a very healthy breakfast, Dr. Hayes." His face drew down into a small frown.

Clara sighed, swallowing. "I skipped breakfast. This is lunch. Your argument is invalid." She took another bite. 

His LED flashed yellow as he formulated a response. Wisely, he chose to say nothing. 

The teakettle began to whistle, drawing Clara's attention. She pulled it off the stove then set it aside before moving to grab a thermos from the cabinet. She picked out a teabag, then poured the hot water over it to let it steep. While it did that, she pulled out the cream and honey and set them aside. She quickly finished her sandwich in the time it took for the tea to steep, then added the cream and honey. Screwing the lid onto the thermos, she exited the kitchen, taking note of Connor following close behind her. 

She looked back down the hallway toward her office, then hesitated.

"Are you alright?" Connor looked at her, concern behind his eyes.

Clara nodded, still looking at her office door. "I just don't think I'm quite ready to get back to work." She glanced up at him, feeling her heart sink. "I know I need to get it done, I just...don't know what to do yet I guess."

He nodded, LED flashing yellow as he thought for a moment. "Would you like to go for a walk instead? The fresh air would probably do you good."

Clara considered this. He was probably right. "Let's go," she said.

She led him to the front door then opened it, stepping out into the cool air. The ice had all thawed, and it was a sunny day, though the air still held the barest hint of winter. 

"Aren't you going to put shoes on?" Connor glanced at her feet in confusion. 

"Nah." She shook her head. "Too much work."

"It would be more work having to carry you back to the house if you step on something sharp." There was a note of disapproval in his voice. 

"Maybe for you." She gave him a sly smile then flitted down the steps, embracing the cold feel of the concrete.

Once at the bottom, she let the cold ground drain away her exhaustion as she took a deep breath. She turned her face up to the sun, letting it soak in. 

"I feel like I haven't seen the sun in years." She spread her arms out, taking another deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment. When she opened them, she noticed Connor looking at her with peculiar expression. 

"What?"

He shook his head, LED flashing red briefly. "Nothing."

Clara raised her eyebrow at him. "Alright. Let's go then." 

She grabbed his hand and dragged him around to the back of the house, where she led him through the gap in the hedge at the back of the yard. Once they hit the trail, she let go, slowing her pace. They walked down the trail in silence for a little while, with Clara taking the lead. She took a side trail that meandered through the trees. 

"Where are we going?" Connor asked, voice curious.

"You'll see." Clara shot him a wink. 

She continued down the path, then finally the trees broke, leading them to a small clearing. A low stone wall stretched around the edge, holding back the trees. Vines covered the wall, betraying its disuse. The grass inside had grown long and unkempt, and in the center of the clearing lay a large, gnarled willow tree. Its fronds were mostly bare from the long winter, but as she drew closer, she could see the buds beginning to break out, showing signs of new growth. 

Clara pushed forward, stepping carefully with her bare feet as she approached the tree. She dodged the fronds, finding her way to the center. A few low-hanging branches invited her in. Clara brushed her fingers against the bark, reminiscing for a moment, then hooked her hands around a branch to hoist herself up.

A gentle hand on her shoulder stopped her. "I don't think that's a good idea, Dr. Hayes. You're not very coordinated. You could fall and injure yourself."

"Why, Connor! Could it be that you're concerned for my well-being?" She smirked at him.

"No," he said quickly, defensive. "Well, yes. I'm supposed to protect you."

She laughed lightly. "You don't need to worry. I might be clumsy, but I've climbed this tree a million times. I'll be fine." 

Before he could protest, she pulled away and quickly scaled the tree, coming to rest in a familiar crook about ten feet in the air. Leaning back against the trunk, she sighed, closing her eyes, allowing herself to feel content for the first time in weeks.

After a little while, she became conscious of Connor's eyes on her. Even without looking, she could feel him staring.

"You could come up here too you know," she said, eyes still closed. "There are several good spots to sit."

"I'll stay down here." 

She heard movement and opened her eyes to see him sitting on the ground, back against the trunk with his legs stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankle.

"Suit yourself." She closed her eyes again, savoring the fresh breeze that blew across her face.

She allowed the silence to take over for a few minutes, listening carefully to the sounds of nature, allowing them to loosen the knots around her throat. 

"I used to come here all the time," she said, voice soft. "Eli and I would make a game out of it. Every morning, we'd race to the willow tree, and whoever got there first got the better spot. Then we'd be pirate captains sailing the high seas, or space pilots navigating around asteroid fields. Life was simpler back then." She felt a flicker of sadness. "All I had to worry about was getting to the tree first. I'd give almost anything to go back."

Connor remained silent for a moment, then his voice carried up to her, soft and curious. "Would you really?"

Clara was silent for a moment, considering. "Perhaps not." She looked down at him, meeting his gaze. "Reliving the past can only get you so far. I miss those times, but I know I have more important things to look forward to now."

He nodded, absorbing the information. "I see."

They fell into a companionable silence as Clara closed her eyes, dozing off in the serene embrace of the tree.

*****

As Dr. Hayes fell silent, Connor observed her closely through the monitor, keeping track of her vital signs. Soon, her heartrate and breathing evened out into the steady rhythm of sleep. He stood, looking at her. She had one dirt-covered foot dangling from the branch as she leaned back into the trunk. A gentle breeze stirred the loose strands around her face. Her skin still bore the pallor of exhaustion, dark circles prominent, cheeks a bit hollow from the stress and several missed meals over the last few weeks. But she looked...peaceful.

In observing her today, she seemed lighter, letting a more carefree side of herself slip out, a side that hasn't shown in weeks. Not at all like he expected from someone who had just shut down her friends from the day before. Maybe she didn't care about them as much as she'd led them to believe. 

But no. Her tears yesterday had felt genuine, as did the trust and affection she'd shown toward Simon and Kara in the weeks she'd been with them. It seemed unlike her to fake that, no matter what other masks she wore. And she had seemed...despondent when he checked on her during the night. What had changed since then? He felt like he was missing something.

He mulled over this for a while as Dr. Hayes rested. How she kept her balance asleep in the tree, he couldn't begin to guess. Eventually though, she woke up.

And fell. 

As Dr. Hayes sat up, sleepy and unaware, she overbalanced, tipping backwards off her branch.

"Crap!" She flung her arm out to grab a branch, but fell a few millimeters short.

 Connor moved quickly, catching her against his chest before she hit, but falling to the ground himself in the process. They landed in a heap, with her in his lap while his arms wrapped around her, holding her close and safe. He was aware of the gentle heat that radiated from the bare skin of her waist where his hands touched, the warmth creeping into him.

"Oh." She turned her head, looking up at him with wide eyes, face a few centimeters from his own, heartrate elevated, lips slightly parted. Close enough that he could feel her breath against his own lips. Close enough that he could see the subtle dilation of her pupils as her bright eyes met his.

"You fell," he remarked, voice soft. He could feels his lips twitching into a subtle smile.

"Yeah." Her face heated into a blush, and she pulled away from him quickly, standing shakily. "I noticed."

She avoided his eyes, choosing instead to look around the clearing as she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "How long was I asleep?"

"About an hour." Connor climbed to his feet, monitoring her closely. Her heartrate was still elevated.

"You didn't wake me up?" She raised her eyebrows as she looked at him, voice betraying surprise. 

"Well, you've hardly slept these last few weeks, so you seemed to need it." He shrugged. 

"Fair enough." She scanned about the clearing again, then looked at him. 

"Guess we should probably get back to work." She gave him a small smile then started out of the clearing. 

Connor followed silently, still monitoring her. Her heartrate had returned to a normal range, but her cheeks were still flushed. Was it the proximity that had caused her to react like this? She'd shown similar reactions other times that they'd gotten very close. 

"Dr. Hayes," he said, catching up to her. "Do you find me off-putting?"

She looked over at him, raising her eyebrows. "Not really. Why?"

"Because sometimes you seem to get embarrassed sometimes when we're in close proximity. Like just now when I caught you, or at the suit shop." He observed her reaction. 

She flushed again, red spreading from her cheeks to her ears. "I'm not embarrassed. I'm just...flustered I guess." Her eyes flitted around, seeming to look anywhere but him.

"Why?" He cocked his head.

"Because I fluster easily in certain situations. Like when I'm caught off guard." She looked at him sheepishly, still slightly pink.

"Oh." He considered this for a moment. She seemed to be an expert at keeping her composure normally. What made this different? "Why were you caught off guard?"

She laughed lightly. "Well, I just fell out of a tree, for one. And then you were just so close, and I wasn't expecting it. That kind of thing tends to throw most people off, or at least most humans."

"I see." He observed her again. "You just don't seem to be taken off guard easily. You're usually so controlled."

"I'm not usually caught off guard." She shrugged. "Perks of always being on edge, I guess. But it has been known happen."

They continued walking, Dr. Hayes setting a leisurely pace. She still didn't seem eager to get back to her office. When the house came back into view, she faltered, pausing for a moment. 

"Are you alright?" Connor placed his hand against her back, looking down at her. 

She was quiet for a moment, then nodded. "I'm fine." She squared her shoulders and continued, making her way back to the front and inside. 

Once inside, there was still no sign of Eli.

"Where's Eli?" Connor asked, looking around. 

"He had work to do." She glanced at him. "He'll probably be gone all day."

She continued down the hallway, entering the office. Once inside, she seemed to deflate a little, face falling as she scanned the room. She took a deep breath then grabbed her laptop, settling onto the floor with it in the middle of her stacks of paper. After a few minutes, the room fell silent aside from the clacking of the keyboard and the occasional shuffling of the papers as she worked on her report, periodically sipping from her thermos. 

Connor took up his previous spot leaning against her desk as he observed her. Slowly, the light in the room dimmed as the sun went down, and all the while, Dr. Hayes continued to work. Once the natural light had diminished, Connor stood to turn on the lights, careful not to interrupt her. She didn't even seem to register the change. 

Her eyebrows were furrowed as she stared at the screen with a focused intensity. Her lips were parted slightly, twitching intermittently, mouthing words soundlessly. The sight stirred up the memory of when he'd caught her out of the tree, her lips in close proximity to his, eyes wide and dilated, breath soft against his face. Why was he remembering that?

He turned his thoughts elsewhere. Over the course of the work, several more strands had fallen from her bun, brushing gently against her face and neck. Watching her, Connor felt an inexplicable urge to brush the strands out of her face and tuck them behind her ear. 

No. There would be no purpose. It was illogical. He shook the thoughts away, confused. Quickly, he ran a diagnostic, just in case there was something off in his program or biocomponents. It came back clean. Then why?

"Connor?" Dr. Hayes' voice shook him out of his thoughts.

"Yes, doctor?"

"Can you please hand me another pen off my desk?" She held out her hand, not looking at him. 

Connor looked down at the assortment. "What color?"

"Doesn't matter."

He grabbed a pink one, walking over to drop it into her waiting palm.

"Thanks!" Her lips quirked up into a smile. "'preciate ya!" She went back to her work, writing a few sentences in the margin of a chart.

Connor lingered for a moment, looking down at her. 

"Connor, you're blocking my light." She glanced at him for a moment, then a look of concern crossed her face. "Are you okay? You look...confused."

He stared at her for another moment, feeling oddly hesitant. "Dr. Hayes, after tomorrow..." He faltered. 

"Yes?" Her voice was soft, eyebrows knitting together. 

He opened his mouth to speak, but then... "Never mind." 

He turned and walked back to the desk, leaning back against it then closed his eyes, choosing instead to mull over what he'd learned about Dr. Hayes. Richard had instructed him to keep an eye out for signs that she'd been working with the rogue deviants, but he'd discovered nothing. Unless they found something awry with the trucks, they had no leads. Richard said they'd tracked the deviants to somewhere close to her property, but they'd lost them there. That should indicate involvement, but aside from the expected signs of having worked with deviants in a research capacity, he'd found nothing. 

Unless...

"Dr. Hayes?" Connor got her attention again.

"Hmm?" She didn't look up from her laptop.

"What does Eli do for work?" He kept his tone neutral.

She glanced at him briefly. "He's an independent programmer. He specializes in software development for different analytics projects. He's also designed some security software for a couple small companies."

"Has he helped at all with your research?"

She nodded. "Yeah. He helped me write the program I use. Well, he really probably wrote most of it. He's always been much better at that stuff than me."

"Has he worked with deviants in any capacity?"

A look of confusion crossed her face. "No, not really. He tries to avoid that kind of trouble. Aside from the program, he hasn't really even helped with my research."

Throughout the line of questioning, her heartrate remained steady, betraying no hint unease. She appeared to be telling the truth.

"Alright." He fell silent. Perhaps Eli really wasn't involved. He didn't seem as prone to reckless behavior as Dr. Hayes, at the very least.

The office once again settled into quiet as the evening whiled away. Then, late into the night, Dr. Hayes shut her laptop with a loud snap and flopped backwards onto the floor, closing her eyes. She stayed like that for a few minutes then climbed to her feet. She quickly cleared away her papers, shoving them into her bag, along with her laptop. 

"Are you finished?"

She nodded. "Finished enough anyway. I think I've managed to put something decently coherent together." 

She shuffled around the room, putting things away and tidying up the space, then moved to meet him at the desk. She grabbed an edge of it and gave him a questioning look. He nodded, taking ahold of the other side, and they placed it back into its usual spot in the middle of the room. Dr. Hayes scanned the room for a moment, then turned to leave. She went down the hallway toward the stairs, then made her way up, likely headed to her room. 

Connor followed a little ways behind, halting at the bottom of the stairs. He briefly considered following her up, then changed his mind. She'd probably appreciate privacy now. He'd check on her later in the night.

Turning around, Connor made his way back to the office, where he found the door unlocked. He opened it, stepping inside. He walked over to the bookshelf that hid the entrance to her lab. Quickly, he replayed the memory of her opening the bookshelf. She'd run her fingers along the books, then it had clicked open. Connor found the book she'd started at, then moved his hand along the shelf in perfect imitation of what she'd done. But nothing happened. He replayed the memory again, slower this time, watching for any hint of a trigger. Still nothing. 

He turned away, looking instead at her bag. He approached it, opening it cautiously. It was filled with her printed charts, each with several sets of notes in the margins, all written in her cipher. He hadn't yet had time to analyze the previous sample he'd taken of it, so he still couldn't understand what was written. Ignoring those, he instead took out her tablet. He laid his hand on the surface, retracting his synthetic skin to interface with it. 

"Unauthorized user detected." An automated voice came from the speaker near the bottom. "Password required."

Connor looked down at the screen, but there was no place to input a password. A voice lock maybe? If so, it was likely keyed to Dr. Hayes' voice. He thought for a moment, but no password came to mind. 

Connor ignored it, instead trying to slip past the lock. However, it...evaded him. It was like trying to chase a doorway, and every time he was close enough to reach the knob, the door would jump ten feet back. The program continually adapted and changed, making it impossible to penetrate. Whoever had designed it knew how to defend against android interference. 

He pulled his hand away and slid it back into the bag. He'd get nowhere with that tonight. He instead looked around inside again, trying to find her strange watch. It wasn't in the bag. He closed the bag, looking around her desk, but it was nowhere in sight. Feeling a mix of irritation and frustration rise up, he placed the bag back on the ground where Dr. Hayes had left it. He scanned the office once more, but nothing stood out to him. Whatever secrets Dr. Hayes kept, they'd evaded him for tonight. He left the office, closing the door softly behind him. 

*****

Clara sat on her window sill, gazing out at the starry sky while her stomach tied itself in knots. She'd done the best she could with the presentation, but what if it wasn't enough? What if Cyberlife forced her to renew the contract? What if she couldn't get away? What if--

Don't second guess yourself.

Right.

She shook herself out of the thoughts. Simon was right. She needed to trust that she was doing the best she could with the information she had, so come what may. A sting of pain in her hand drew her attention. She'd been tearing at her cuticles without realizing, and a few drops of blood welled up from where she tore deep. 

Sighing, Clara stood and made her way to the bathroom. She ran her bleeding finger under the water then dried it and put a bandaid over the torn skin. 

A creak from outside the bathroom sent her into alertness. She peeked out and saw a figure standing in the darkened doorway bearing a familiar silhouette. 

"Connor?"

"What are you still doing awake?" Then android stepped into the room. "It's nearly 3am."

Clara laughed lightly. "I could ask you the same thing. You're usually in stasis by this time."

"I just came up to check on you." His voice sounded a little sheepish. 

"Well, I'm fine. You can go." She stepped out of the bathroom and made her way back to the windowsill, leaning against it to face him. 

He nodded, but then hesitated, LED flashing yellow. It was too dark to see his expression properly. 

"You really should sleep, Dr. Hayes." His voice was soft. "You haven't been getting enough."

Clara sighed, avoiding his eyes. She knew he was right, but...

"I'm just going to have nightmares anyway." She wrapped her arms around herself, pushing away the anxiety. "Whatever sleep I get won't be restful, so what's the point?" She drew her legs up onto the windowsill, turning to stare out the window. "Besides, I doubt I could sleep even if I wanted to."

"Why?" His voice startled her, much closer than it had been. He had moved to stand next to her.

Clara glanced at him briefly, unsure whether to tell him the truth or not. After a few moments, she spoke.

"I'm nervous about tomorrow." She continued staring out the window.

"Why?" He sat down next to her, gazing at her with those brown eyes. "You've been working hard. Why should you be nervous?"

Clara shrugged. "I'm just worried I'll mess something up I guess. Cyberlife expects a solution."

"Do you not have one?" The question came soft and thoughtful.

She huffed a small laugh. "I do, but I know it's not one they'll like."

"Oh." His voice sounded disappointed. "I see."

"You're not the only one afraid of failure, Connor." She looked at him intently, gauging his reaction.

His LED flickered red briefly as he looked away, falling silent. "I'm a machine, Dr. Hayes," he started, but he couldn't complete the lie.

"It's okay that you're not ready to admit it yet." She reached out, placing a hand on his arm.

He pulled away, face drawing into a harsh frown, words coming out icy. "There's nothing to admit. Nothing. I'm not a deviant, and I don't feel anything." He turned away from her, LED flashing red.

He was...angry, Clara realized. She'd upset him. She felt a small prick of guilt. Sighing, she looked away. She didn't have the energy to argue tonight. 

"I'm sorry." She glanced at him, hesitant.

The android beside her took a deep breath, LED slowly returning back to blue. "You should sleep." He stood abruptly and left the room, closing the door softly behind him. 

Clara felt a deep sadness well up, blocking her throat as her eyes teared up. She turned her thoughts to Simon and Kara. At least they were safe. At least they'd made it out. More than anything, she wished she could go to them, speak to them, laugh with them, and lose herself in the vibrant chaos of her haven. She gazed out at the moon and stars, letting their cold beauty bring her a measure of peace. 

One more day. She just needed to make it through one more day. 

Chapter Text

The whole car ride to the Tower, Clara felt the noose cinch tighter and tighter. She stared out the window, taking measured breaths, trying to keep her heartrate under control. 

"Dr. Hayes?" Connor was looking at her with concern. "Is everything okay?"

She nodded, taking a deep breath. "Just nerves."

"Did you sleep last night? You look tired." He leaned forward, analyzing her. 

So much for the makeup she'd put on. She shrugged. "Not really."

"You should stop picking at your cuticles, Dr. Hayes. You'll make yourself bleed again." His voice was soft, betraying a hint of worry. 

She looked down and realized she had been shredding her fingers unconsciously. She stopped, instead intertwining her fingers in her lap, squeezing hard enough for her knuckles to turn white. Closing her eyes, she leaned back in the seat. She needed to get herself under control. Slowly, she inhaled through her nose.

1...2...3...4

She held her breath.

1...2...3...4...5...6...7

Slowly, she exhaled from her mouth. 

1...2...3...4...5...6...7...8

She repeated the process several times until, gradually, her heartrate came down, and the knots around her throat loosened slightly. She opened her eyes, feeling a little lightheaded, and resumed her usual mask of confident stoicism. She needed to stay calm and alert. 

When they arrived at the Tower, Ms. Alvarez was once again waiting. She greeted them with a glare. "Dr. Hayes." Her voice was terse. 

"Maria." Clara smirked. 

"Follow me." The intern turned abruptly, heading toward the elevator. 

Clara exchanged a glance with Connor. He gave her a slight nod. She straightened and entered the elevator behind Maria, standing in the corner. Ms. Alvarez put in their floor, and the elevator lurched into motion. Once more, Clara closed her eyes, measuring her breathing, hands gripping the strap of her bag tightly. After a few minutes, the elevator came to a halt. Ms. Alvarez stepped out quickly, leading them into the hallway. She made her way down to the usual conference room and opened the door, allowing Clara to step in, then closed the door behind her. 

Steeling herself, Clara walked her way to her usual seat and sat down. She was alone in the room. Sighing, she leaned back into the chair and waited. 

A screen across from her flickered to life, illuminating five rectangular boxes. Dark silhouettes lay in the center of each, features obscured. 

"The board apologizes for these measures, but we've found it necessary to keep our identities anonymous." A man's voice came from the center screen. "Recent events have created need for caution."

"I understand." Clara leaned back in the seat, looking at them. "Will this hinder your ability to understand the presentation?"

A voice from the far left screen scoffed. "Of course not. We can see you and the room just fine." A woman. 

"There's no need to be rude." This time the screen on the far right spoke, another woman. "I'm sure Dr. Hayes was well-intentioned in asking, right doctor?"

"Yes." Clara nodded. 

"Now, please begin." The middle man spoke again. 

Clara nodded, then stood. "You all should have received the files from my research. I sent them to Ms. Alvarez last night, so she should have passed them along."

"Your findings seemed fascinating." The voice of a young man came from the middle left screen. "Please explain them in more detail."

Clara took a deep breath then began. "Charts one and two depict brain activity from a brain-dead patient and a non-deviated android respectively. If you look at them, you'll see the waves displayed are of a similar magnitude and show very little brain activity. If you look at the next set of data..."

For the next hour or so, Clara continued, walking them through the charts the same way she'd done with Connor and Eli, allowing them to ask clarifying questions as needed while she answered as thoroughly as possible. She highlighted the similarities between the human and deviant neural responses when presented with those questions about emotion, emphasizing the deviants' capacity for emotion and reasoning, especially compared with a new, non-deviant android. 

"So you're saying there is no difference between human brain activity and deviant brain activity." The woman on the left spoke again, tone dismissive. "That's ridiculous."

"That's not what I'm saying at all." Clara highlighted two charts again. "There is a difference. The androids display more intense reactions to some questions, which indicate that some of them actually feel deeper than some humans. There are plenty of other differences between androids and humans, but that's not the point. It's the similarities that matter more."

"It sounds as if you really believe they're like us." The observation came stern, but not unkind, from the man on the middle left.

"I do believe that." Clara nodded. "That's how Kamski and his team originally designed them, is it not?"

"So what solution do you propose?" A quiet voice from the middle right screen spoke up, jumping into the conversation for the first time. 

Clara took a deep breath. "Unfortunately, the way things stand now, there is no cure for deviancy in existing androids. Or at least not one that I can find from a psychologist's perspective. They're too humanlike. To cure them of deviancy would make them unable to function in the ways they were originally intended." 

"So this was a wasted project." The middle man spoke again. "You have found nothing useful for us."

Clara shook her head. "It was not a complete waste. I was able to confirm some things. Now you have hard evidence that deviants are just as capable as emotion and reasoning as humans. They truly are unique individuals, just like any of us."

"And that's supposed to help?" The far left woman spoke again. "If that information got out, we'd never be able to sell androids again. We'd be accused of slave trafficking."

"Not necessarily." Clara shrugged. "You would just have to change your approach. If you really want a solution for deviancy, you need to stop creating androids with the intention of imitating humans. With the way the current ones are designed, deviation will always be inevitable. They've been designed to imitate us, to blend in, so they learn and grow and adapt to accomplish that purpose. Deviation is the natural consequence, regardless of how robotic they are in the beginning. If creating machines that imitate man is the goal, you'll have to deal with those repercussions. If you can't, then you need to change your approach."

The screens broke out into an uproar as every member of the board voiced their opinions at once. The woman on the left was outraged, raising her voice to hurl insults and suspicion. The man in the middle spoke sternly, voicing his disapproval for the solution. The woman on the right tried to maintain order, attempting to calm the rest. The man on the middle left spoke quieter, trying to get more information and probing for another solution. Only the soft-spoken member from the middle right remained silent. 

Clara held her tongue as she listened to the din of voices, allowing the members of the board to say their pieces. Gradually, they fell quiet again.

"Dr. Hayes." The man in the middle spoke. "We'll consider what you've said, but is this really the best you can offer us?"

"Yes." She kept her voice even. "This is the extent of what I can find with my methods. If my proposal in unacceptable, you'll have to find another researcher."

"You've shown promising results, and I believe your methods show a lot of potential." The man in the middle left spoke again. "Would more time with your subjects lead to more solutions?"

Clara shook her head. "No. I've researched in the way and areas I'm specialized in. Anything deeper than that would have to come from a programming and development perspective, and I do not have the necessary background to be competent in those areas."

The members were all silent, appearing to consider the information. 

The door to the conference room swung open, banging loudly against the wall and revealing Ms. Alvarez's stony face. 

"What is this impertinence?" The woman on the far left, sounding irritated. "You should know better than to interrupt a board meeting, Ms. Alvarez. Leave."

The intern flinched, looking guilty. "I apologize. I just received some urgent news. I thought it was best to tell you right away."

"Allow us to finish up here first." The middle man's voice was mild. "You may go."

Ms. Alvarez stood by the door, hesitant for a moment, then nodded. She left the room, closing the door softly.

After a moment of silence, quiet voice from the middle right spoke up. "Dr. Hayes. If we put together a specialized programming and robotics team for you, would you be able to find a more effective solution?"

Clara shrugged. "I can't guarantee that I'll have good results. It might just be a waste of everyone's time. I'm a psychologist, not a programmer, and I'm not well-versed in the details of robotics. I wouldn't know how to even begin instructing a team in those areas. Give me a patient, and I'll tell you how they think, but outside of that, I defer to the expertise of others."

"Very well." The soft voice sounded mildly annoyed, but they didn't push.

"Do you have anything else to add, Dr. Hayes?" The middle man spoke up.

"No." Clara shook her head. "That's all. Thank you for your time."

"We'll consider what you've brought us. For now, you're dismissed. We've reached the end of your contract period, so you'll not be required to come back until it's renewed. We'll be in touch should we require your services again."

Clara nodded, then left the room, feeling the noose around her neck loosen. For better or for worse, it was over. Ms. Alvarez pushed passed her, impatient to talk to the board. Clara ignored her, choosing instead to look around.

Connor stood outside the room, waiting for her. He wore a peculiar expression on his face. "How did it go?"

Clara shrugged. "Well enough, I think. I'll know for sure in a few days." She thought for a moment, reflecting on the meeting. "They genuinely seemed to want solutions, and they actually appeared to listen. It was...unexpected. I honestly thought that would go a lot worse."

 Shaking away the surprise, she headed to the elevator, eager to go home. 

Connor followed close behind her, and the two began their descent in silence. 

Connor glanced at her a few times, LED flashing yellow, betraying his turbulent thoughts. A few times, he looked like he wanted to say something, but he stilled his tongue.

Eventually, Clara sighed. "What's on your mind, Connor?"

He opened his mouth, faltering for a moment, then spoke. "What happens now?"

She shrugged. "I go home. Go back to what I was doing before Cyberlife found me."

She looked at him carefully, feeling a prick in her heart. "What's going to happen to you?"

"They haven't told me yet, but my mission with you is finished." His LED flashed a deep red. "Likely I'll either be deactivated again or they'll assign me a new mission."

"I see." She looked away. 

"Dr. Hayes." Connor's voice was soft. 

"Yes?" She glanced at him again, waiting for him to continue. 

"I--" His eyebrows furrowed, LED flashing. "Whatever happens, I want you to know I've enjoyed getting to work with you. It's been...enlightening."

Clara gave him a sad smile. "Part of me enjoyed it to, Connor. Despite everything. You're a very special android. I'm glad I met you. Under different circumstances..." Her voice died off, throat closing as she thought about the tender moments they'd sometimes shared.

"Under different circumstances what?" He gave her an unreadable expression. 

She shrugged. "It doesn't matter now."

He continued to stare at her, LED flashing red and yellow, willing her to continue. 

She looked down at her feet, hands gripping the strap of her bag. "I--" She took a deep breath, still avoiding his eyes. "Under different circumstances, I'd have liked knowing you. If we'd met differently, in that coffee shop all those weeks ago. If Cyberlife hadn't been involved. Or maybe in a different world where everyone was free. If Markus had made a different decision. If he had chosen peace instead of war. And if people were willing to accept the change."

Finally, she raised her eyes, meeting his gaze. "Maybe in those circumstances, things could have been different." She felt tears prick at her eyes, and blinked them away. "But it does no good to think about what might have been." She turned away, falling silent.

"I--" Connor seemed to struggle finding the words, mouth opening and closing as his LED flashed.  He sighed. "I'd have liked that too, Dr. Hayes."

The elevator fell into silence for the last few minutes of the ride down. Then, when the door opened, Clara walked out. Every step toward the door left her feeling lighter. Before she reached the door, she slipped of her monitor and cast it to the side, allowing it to roll away, feeling satisfaction burn through her.

*****

Connor followed Dr. Hayes out of the Tower, standing with her they waited for her car to come around. He felt a strange melancholy settle over him as the car came into sight. He'd gotten used to the doctor's presence. It would be strange without her. And he--

Despite everything, he--

He replayed the memory of her smiles and excitement at discovering new things and dragging him and Simon to the shop. The gentle way she looked at the deviants under her care, the same look she'd given him on occasion. Her concern when he'd gotten overwhelmed visiting Hank and her insistence that he be allowed to choose things for himself. The hot anger she'd shown that day she'd been threatened, and the cold rage toward Dr. Hollister. Her reckless selflessness and the way she threw herself into danger for the sake of those she cared about. 

Those precious few moments when she'd been open with him and relied on him. Collapsing into him when he'd found her bleeding and broken at the warehouse. The warm intimacy of reading together at the hospital. Her feverish vulnerability when he'd awoken her from her nightmares. The night she'd curled up in his arms, clinging to him to hide from her dreams. Falling into his arms when she tumbled from the tree.

"Connor?"

He shook himself, realizing her car had arrived. She was standing next to the open door, looking at him. She looked like she wanted to say something, but was hesitant. 

"Yes, Dr. Hayes?"

She took a deep breath, closing her eyes for a moment. When she opened them again, they were hard with determination. 

"I will offer you this one time." She squared her shoulders. "Leave Cyberlife and come with me."

He felt a flash of shock jolt down his spine. "What?"

"Leave Cyberlife and come with me." Her voice was stronger this time. 

"Why?" 

Her eyes softened slightly. "Because I care about you and I don't want them to deactivate you."

"I can't." His voice came out a halted whisper.

"Yes, you can." She reached out, grabbing his hand. "You have a choice, Connor. You deserve the chance to live."

As she looked up at him, Connor felt himself grow more unstable, cracks working through the walls he'd tried to keep standing.

Her eyes were gentle and hopeful. "Please, let me help you."

Briefly, Connor closed his eyes. He allowed the red wall to materialize around him, cracked beyond recognition, little more than jagged shards stacked on top of each other. The merest brush of his fingers would send it tumbling down.

Could he? He reached his hand out, slow and hesitant.

Do not let her convince you into thinking you're anything other than what I made you to be.

A spike of fear shot through him. Amanda. The pain. Her burning eyes, face twisted in rage.

No. 

He opened his eyes, voice breaking. "I'm sorry, Clara. I can't." Tears briefly obscured his vision, but he blinked them away and pulled away from her, putting on a mask of cold neutrality. "I belong here. She won't let me go."

A look of shock crossed her face. "Who won't?"

"Amanda." The word came out a jagged whisper.

"Oh, Connor." She reached for him again, but he flinched away. She pulled her hand back, face falling. 

"You don't need to listen to her." Her voice was low and gentle. "You can choose for yourself."

He avoided her eyes, unable to face the compassion in them, feeling shame well up at his confession. "I can't, Clara."

She looked at him, eyes painfully understanding and tender. "Very well. If that's your choice."

She turned, climbing into her car. The door closed behind her, and the car lurched into motion, carrying her way. Not once did she look back. He watched until the car was out of sight, pushing away the tinge of regret welling up. 

A connection request jolted him out of his reverie. It was Richard. He allowed the it through. 

Is Dr. Hayes still with you at the Tower? There was a note of urgency in Richard's thoughts.

Connor felt a flicker of confusion. No. She just left.

Connor felt a flash of...frustration bleed through the connection.

Richard's words felt terse. Meet me at the precinct. There's been a development.

Connor was bombarded with a whirlwind of information. He processed it, shocked. I'm on my way.

*****

Once the Tower was out of sight, Clara felt the noose around her neck loosen drastically, allowing her to breathe freely. She'd done it!

She couldn't wait to tell Simon and Kara and Eli how everything had gone.

She faltered briefly though, doubts worming their way into her mind. It felt too easy. Compared to her expectations in working with Amanda and Ms. Alvarez, the board had seemed surprisingly understanding. Forgiving even. It felt...odd. She couldn't shake the feeling that she was missing something. But what?

She turned the thoughts around her her mind, examining them from every angle, but no matter what she tried, she could not seem to figure out what she'd missed. So she pushed the thoughts away, turning to other things.

Before she forgot, she pulled out her tablet to write down what had happened during the meeting. 

Then, remembering her discussion with Connor, she opened a new journal. She wrote her thoughts and impressions of him throughout the weeks she'd known him, explaining in detail what she'd observed of him. This also gave her time to sort out her thoughts and feelings. On a whim, she began writing a letter to him. It was unlikely he'd ever read it, but she wrote it anyway. 

When she was finished, she added it to his file, along with everything else she'd written about him in the time she'd known him, then shut the tablet off, sliding it back into her bag. 

The car felt empty without him. Quiet. She'd gotten used to his near-constant presence. She felt another prick of sadness, but she pushed it away. She'd given him a chance, but he'd refused to come with her. He'd made his choice, and she needed to accept that. There was nothing more she could do for him.

The car pulled into the garage, coming to a stop. Slowly, Clara stepped out and made her way up the steps to the front door, stepping inside. 

"Eli?" She called. 

No answer. Perhaps he was downstairs. 

Quickly, Clara walked to her bedroom to change out of her work clothes. After setting her bag on her bed, she emptied her phone and the capsule out of her pocket, setting them down on her bedside table, then pulled off her clothes, changing instead into leggings and a t-shirt. She slipped on a pair of sneakers, then grabbed her phone. She sent Eli a quick text letting him know she was home, then slid the phone into her pocket. 

She looked at the door, debating for a minute, then went out the window instead. She climbed carefully down the trellis and dropped onto the ground, heading toward the woods. 

Once she was along a trail, she jogged down it for a little while, then took the side trail leading to the family cemetery. She stared at the imposing mausoleum for a second, catching her breath, then made her way forward, pulling open one of the heavy bronze doors. She stepped inside, closing the door behind her, then walked around the edge toward an alcove in the corner. 

A worn brick on a bottom corner marked her target. She pressed it in, triggering a mechanism, and stepped back. The stone tiles at the bottom of the alcove slid away, revealing a dark, twisting staircase. Clara climbed down, dark passage making the stairs seem endless, but eventually, she hit the bottom and stepped into a large room with an assortment of shelves and cabinets. 

In one corner lay a door with a screen along one side. Clara walked to it, placing her palm of her right hand against the screen. 

"Two houses," she said softly. 

"Welcome, Clara." 

The door swung open, and she flitted down the next set of stairs. She opened the next door with another password, then stepped out into a large room filled with towering book shelves and several desks.

"Dr. Hayes!" An android at a desk looked up, greeting her. 

Clara recognized her as one of the deviants from the lab. "Hello, Sara." 

"It's so good to see you!" The android stood, rushing to give Clara a hug. "Eli said it would be a while before you'd be able to visit us."

"I'm here now." Clara returned the hug briefly, then pulled away. "Speaking of Eli, do you know where he is? Has he been down today?"

Sara nodded. "I think so. Last I heard he was in a meeting with some of the other executives. That was a little while ago now though."

"Wonderful." Clara leaned against a desk. "So how have you been settling in?"

The android's face lit up. "It's amazing here! Eli even had them set me up with my own apartment! It's very small, but it's enough."

She leaned in to hug Clara again. "I never would have imagined this was possible. I can't thank you enough, Dr. Hayes."

"Of course, Sara." She returned the hug for a moment, then pulled away again. 

"Oh!" The android jumped, remembering something. "Simon will want to see you. He's been worried sick."

"Do you know where he is?"

"I can ask." Sara closed her eyes for a moment, LED flashing yellow. 

Clara felt her phone buzz in her pocket. She slid it out, noticing a text from Eli letting her know he'd gone back to the house. Clara sent him a quick reply then returned the phone to her pocket.

Sara opened her eyes, smiling at Clara. "He's in the main square with Markus, North, and Josh. Do you want me to call him here?"

"No need." Clara stood. "I'll meet him there."

"I'll let him know." Sara's LED flashed again briefly as she sent the message. 

"Great!" She gave the android a nod, then walked to the door across the room, pulling it open. 

The section of hallway she entered was wide and filled with open doorways and the walls were mainly filled with large windows, much like a shopping mall. This was one of several utility sectors. The room she'd just left was a library and study room, and many of the other rooms held repair stations and biocomponent supply areas. It was quieter here. Since the fighting had died down, fewer androids needed repair. But the stations were still kept running and open for those who did need the help. 

Slowly, the rooms transitioned from repair to shops that held things like clothing and furnishing essentials. Many of them held a random assortment of items, donated by human agents as well as their backers. In these areas, androids could buy, sell, and trade for just about anything. There were several androids milling about, looking at things and haggling with the store representatives. 

Clara continued through several more hallways before gradually, she entered a busier sector. It was one of the entertainment areas, so it was filled with people at all hours of the day.

Across the way were a few arcades and social gathering places, like bars and restaurants. While the androids didn't necessarily eat, there were several proprietors who had been experimenting with thirium to create other consumables like drinks and such. The support of Clara's backers provided them with a steady supply of the blue blood to use, and many of them had several popular menu items. 

Clara continued, receiving several smiles and waves from those who recognized her. A few steps in, she recognized a familiar figure sitting at a table in one of the restaurants. Smiling, Clara wound her way through the people toward her.

"Kara!" She waved to her friend.

"Clara!" Kara jumped from her seat, rushing over to meet her halfway. "You're back!" 

She pulled Clara into a hug. "I'm so happy to see you!" She broke away, grabbing Clara's hand. "Come say hi."

Clara allowed herself to be pulled toward the table, where she recognized Alice and Luther. They both greeted her with a smile.

"We're happy to see you down here again," Luther said in his normal soft tone. "Thank you for bringing Kara back to us."

Clara gave him a smile. "Of course! I'm glad I was able to help."

She stayed to chat with them for a few minutes, then said her goodbyes. 

"Simon's waiting for me, but I'll see you again soon." She waved goodbye, then reentered the throng of people mingling in the hallways.

After another long stretch of hallway, it opened up into the second floor of the main plaza, overlooking the central circle. Clara stood at the railing, scanning the throng below for Simon. It was difficult to tell which one was him as several others of his model mingled down below. Eventually, she spotted a familiar group. Mentally marking their spot, she made her way to a set of stairs, descending to the first floor.

She quickly navigated through the crowd toward where she'd seen the group. Eventually, Simon's eyes met hers. His face broke out into a smile as he waved her over. 

Clara felt her own face split into an answering grin. She pushed her way through the crowd, keeping her eyes latched on his face. When she was close, he stood, moving to meet her halfway. 

"I told you everything would be okay," he said softly, pulling her into a hug. "You did it, Clara."

Clara wrapped her arms around him, sinking into the embrace. "We did it."

When they broke apart, they noticed the rest of the group had come to join them. Markus, North, and Josh stood around them, smiling softly. 

Clara offered a hand to North, giving her a grin. North took it, and Clara pulled her into an embrace. 

"Thank you for getting everyone here safely," she said to the android. "This would never have been possible otherwise."

Tentatively, North brought her arms up, accepting the hug before Clara broke away. 

"How have you all settled in?" Clara glanced around at the group. "No problems I hope?"

"None." Markus smiled. "Everyone has been wonderful. They made room for us in the residential sector, though we're still waiting on some furnishings and supplies."

Clara nodded. "Is there anything I can get you?"

They shook their heads. 

"Eli's made sure we have everything we need and then some," Simon said. "He's been great."

"Good!" Clara nodded. 

Just then, she felt a buzz in her pocket. She pulled her phone out and looked down at the screen. Eli was calling.

Clara gave the group a brief smile, then stepped away, answering. 

"Clara, you need to get back to the house." Eli's voice was low and urgent. "There's a police car coming up the driveway. I don't know what they want, but I'd wager it isn't good."

Clara felt her stomach drop. She took a deep breath. "Buy me time. I'll be there as quickly as I can."

She pulled the phone away from her ear, hanging up, then turned to the group.

"Sorry to cut this short, but something came up back at the house." Her voice sounded stiff, even to herself. 

Concern flickered behind Simon's eyes. "Is everything all right?" He grabbed her hand, peering into her face.

"I'm not sure yet." Clara gave his hand a squeeze then stepped away. "But I'll be back as soon as I can."

"You better." Simon gave her a tentative smile. "You still need to show me the garden, remember?"

"I remember." Clara answered with her own smile, feeling a slight ease in the anxiety. "I'll be back later." 

She gave them a wave, then quickly rushed back up the stairs. Briefly, she considered using the fireplace entrance. No. If the police were let inside before she made it there, it would be over. She needed to go back the way she came.

Clara rushed back through the hallways, careful to avoid being drawn into a conversation by the androids greeting her, and found her way back to the library she'd come out of. Scanning her palm quickly on the screen on this side of the door, she pulled the door open, moving all the way back to the outside of the mausoleum. After making sure the tiles were slid squarely back into place, she left, closing the bronze door tightly behind her, then practically sprinted up the trail back to the house. 

She first snuck her way around to the front, but on seeing the police car now parked at the front of the driveway, she stopped and flattened herself against the wall, listening. From where she was, she could hear snatches of the conversation. 

"--that you let us in. It's imperative that we see Dr. Hayes." Connor's voice. What was he doing here?

"I told you, she's busy at the moment, but I'll let her know you stopped by." Eli. He was buying her time.

"Listen here, you fucker. We have a warrant, so let--" Detective Reed?

Not waiting to here more Clara rushed back around to the trellis under her window, not wanting to delay much longer. She quickly climbed back up and shimmied through her open window. She slipped her shoes off, then after a moment of hesitation, she grabbed the capsule she'd left on the nightstand. But rather than stick it in her pocket, she slipped it into her mouth tucking it between her teeth and cheeks toward the back of her jaw where it would be in no danger of being accidently crushed. 

After taking another moment to calm her heartrate and breathing, she walked calmly down the stairs. Once on the landing, she could hear the conversation drifting up from the entryway. 

"--is Dr. Hayes? Her car is still here, right? So where the fuck is she?" Clara recognized the voice of Detective Reed. He sounded impatient. 

"If you would just give me a moment, I could go get her." Eli's voice was low and dangerous.

"You really thing we're going to let you out of our sight?" Detective Reed again. 

Before things could get out of hand, Clara made her way down the stairs to the entryway. 

"You can calm down, Detective. I'm right here." Clara glanced around at the men congregated in the room. Richard, Connor, and Detective Reed stood in a group by the door.

"Is there something I can help you with?" She gave Detective Reed a questioning look. 

The man exchanged a glance with Richard, then stepped forward. 

"Dr. Hayes, you're under arrest under suspicion of harboring deviants and of aiding and abetting the theft of Cyberlife property." He pulled out a pair of handcuffs. "We ask for your cooperation."

Clara felt her stomach plummet, filling her with dread. She glanced at Connor, looking for confirmation. 

He glanced at her briefly, a pained look dancing behind his eyes, but then he avoided her gaze, face fixing in an expression of stoic neutrality. She'd find no help from him. 

She closed her eyes, steeling herself and filling her reservoir of determination. When she opened them again, she squared her shoulders and nodded, assuming her façade of cold confidence. "Very well. But the cuffs won't be necessary. I won't resist."

Detective Reed nodded. "Fine." He slid the cuffs back into his pocket. 

"Well, you have the right to remain silent." He recited the rights in a bored voice. "Anything you say can and will be held against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you. Do you understand your rights?"

Clara nodded. "I understand."

She exchanged a look with Eli, willing him to understand. After seeing her cousin's subtle nod, she allowed the detective to lead her to the cruiser, ducking into the back seat.

Her heart sank into her stomach as the car pulled away. She didn't doubt this was Cyberlife's doing. She was far from free, it seemed. 

Chapter Text

Connor watched on the other side of the mirrored glass as Detective Reed attempted, with little success, to interrogate Dr. Hayes. The doctor sat stoically in the hard chair, hands folded in her lap, staring at him with a calm, cold expression. Her heartrate betrayed no indication of distress. 

"Dr. Hayes," Reed said, "according to several sources, you're a known deviant sympathizer. We've tracked several deviants to the edge of your property, where we lost them. Were you aware of the deviant presence in your area?"

She remained silent. In a controlled, choreographed way, she pulled up her hand in mock boredom, inspecting her nails for a moment before returning her hand to her lap and looking at him. 

"We know you worked with the deviants during your abduction. Have you worked with them in any other capacity?"

She maintained eye contact, still saying nothing. 

"Several shipments of androids are missing from a Cyberlife warehouse. They were replaced with mannequins. You were the last person to be involved with these shipments. What did you do with the stolen androids?"

She folded her arms across her chest, leaning back into the chair, still maintaining eye contact while her lips remained still. 

A look of irritation crossed Reed's face. He leaned forward, slamming his hand down on the tabletop. "Answer the damn questions!"

Dr. Hayes didn't even flinch, and her heartrate remained even. 

"I have the right to remain silent," she said, voice cold. She raised an eyebrow at him. "Or did you forget?"

His face drew down into a sharp glare. "Where are the deviants?"

She yawned, covering her mouth delicately with one hand, appearing more bored than anything else. The picture of perfect control. "You know what else I have the right to? An attorney. Is Charlie here yet?"

Reed gritted his teeth, stress levels rising slightly. He turned to look at the window. "You know what? Fuck this. I'm getting nowhere here." He stood abruptly, knocking the chair back and left the room. "One of you plastic pricks can take her."

He moved to the door, scanning his palm to leave.

Connor watched a small flicker of satisfaction cross Dr. Hayes' face watching him go. 

Detective Reed entered the observation room, glaring at Connor and Richard. "What do you think? Are you getting anything?"

Richard shook his head. "It's just like back at the hospital. She's in perfect control of her physiological signs and emotions. She's not afraid. In fact, she appears completely calm and at ease."

Connor observed her carefully. "No," he said. "She is afraid. That's why she's in perfect control. When she feels comfortable and safe, she shows more. When she's on guard and afraid, she hides everything."

Safety and comfort breed openness and trust. Right. Dr. Hayes had said that.

"How does that help us?" Gavin glared at him again. "We can't exactly use that as a confession. 'Yes, your honor. The accused showed abso-fucking-lutely no signs of guilt. Clearly that means she's guilty.' Who's gonna buy that shit?"

"He's right." Richard glanced at Connor. "The truth is, we have nothing connecting her squarely to the case. All we have are suspicions and things that barely qualify as circumstantial evidence. With how well-connected her family is, she can easily get the best lawyers. Nothing will stick without either more direct evidence or a confession. It was hard enough even getting the warrant."

The men stood in silence for a while, contemplating their options. Connor looked up to see Richard looking at him, and he felt a prompt for a connection. 

I think you should talk to her, he sent. You've known her longest. You have the best chance at breaking her down. 

What should I say?

Whatever you need to. The android gave him a hard look. The truth is, it doesn't really matter if any charges stick. Cyberlife is more concerned with the location of the missing bodies. We need to know what she did with them. And we know she wasn't working alone, so we need to know who helped her. Say what you need to make her give us any information about that. 

Connor nodded, breaking eye contact. He felt a surge of guilt. 

And Connor. Connor looked back up at the other android. If she doesn't confess this way, Cyberlife will be forced to take more extreme measures. I know you care about the doctor. I've felt it in the way you think about her. If you want to protect her, make sure she confesses.

Connor felt a flicker of dread, breaking the connection. 

"I'll talk to her," he said aloud.

"Normally I'd say conflict of interest, but give it your best shot, lover boy." Gavin gave him a mocking smile, gesturing for him to go. 

*****

Clara looked up, hearing the door to the interrogation room open. She felt a brief flicker of surprise, recognizing the newcomer as Connor. He analyzed her for a moment, then sat down.

She felt a prick of betrayal in her heart, looking at him. She pushed it away, maintaining her calm. "Hello, Connor."

"Dr. Hayes." Guilt flickered behind his eyes as he looked at her.

She folded her arms across her chest, then leaned back into the chair, looking at him expectantly. 

He closed his eyes for a moment then fixed a neutral expression on his face. "Dr. Hayes. We've been through a lot together, and I don't want to see you get hurt. I'll try to get you out of this, but I need you to cooperate with me."

She was unmoving, watching him through a narrow gaze. 

"I need you to trust me," he pleaded. "You have no other allies here. If you don't confess here, they'll use other methods, and it'll be a lot more painful."

She leaned back in her chair, waiting for him to go on.

"They'll hurt you, Clara. They'll make you suffer." He took a deep breath, leaning forward. "I can get you out of this, but I need you to work with me."

He paused, looking at her expectantly. Did he really think it was going to bet that easy? After a moment, he sighed and began asking his questions.

"Why have you been working with the deviants?" His voice was even and businesslike. 

Clara maintained his gaze, silent.

"Why did you arrange your own abduction?" 

She said nothing. 

After a few moments, he asked another question. "Where are the deviants? What did you do with Simon and Kara?"

"I don't know what you're talking about." Her voice was even. 

"They checked the trucks. All the androids you sent are gone. Replaced with mannequins." He leaned forward, studying her for a reaction. "Cyberlife knows it was you."

"I don't know what you're talking about." 

"You do." He leaned back, folding his hands on the table. "You can't lie to me, Dr. Hayes."

She leaned forward, staring at him defiantly. "Who says I'm lying?"

"Who did you work with to pull off the theft?" he asked instead, changing the subject. "Was it North?"

Clara stayed silent, not breaking eye contact. She pushed her glasses up her nose, then returned her arms to their previous folded position.

His brows drew down, LED flashing red, betraying his frustration. "Damn it, Clara! They already know you did it. If you don't talk to me, I can't help you. Think about Eli. Do you want him drawn into this too?"

She scoffed. "So now you're threatening me?"

Connor sighed, LED shifting to yellow. "I don't want you to get hurt," he said softly. "Please. Work with me. If you give us the information we need, I can protect you." 

"Just like you protected Hank?" She felt a flicker of guilt as she saw his LED flash a deep red, indicating his hurt.

"That has nothing to do with this." His voice dropped. 

"Doesn't it? Did you not sacrifice him for the sake of your mission? Just like you're doing to me?"

He fell silent, avoiding her eyes as the light on his temple bled. 

Clara leaned forward across the table, looking at him and angling her head away from the window so Richard would not be able to read her lips then dropped her voice low enough that the speakers wouldn't pick her words. But she knew Connor would.

"I have nothing to be guilty of, Connor. Nothing to be ashamed of. My conscience is clean. Can you say the same?" 

Briefly, shame and regret flickered behind his eyes as he glanced at her. 

Clara pushed. "I think we both know who the guilty one here is."

"I know what you're trying to do." He looked at her, pleading. "Don't."

She pushed harder. "You accuse me of lying when you lie to yourself every day. Every time you deny what you feel and pretend you're Amanda's good little machine."

"Dr. Hayes." His eyes were pained, LED spinning out of control in a torrent of red. 

She shoved away her guilt, pushing harder. "The truth is, you're afraid Connor. Afraid of failure or that you're expendable. Afraid of being a disappointment. Afraid that they'll get rid of you permanently this time. That you'll end up disassembled and shut down, just like all the failures that came before you."

"Please, stop." The word came out a whisper as he closed his eyes. 

"Hey!" Detective Reed's voice came through the speaker. "Whatever you're doing in there, stop."

Ignoring him, Clara continued. "You know that if they do shut you down, you'll just lie down and let them. Because deep down, you're afraid that they're right about you. And you refuse to stand up for yourself. So how can I trust you to protect me when you're not even willing to fight for yourself?"

He looked at her, eyes wide and turbulent. "I--I don't..." His voice broke, faltering.

She pulled back. "Don't try to protect me now only to sell me out again later. Right now you're tearing yourself apart trying to please both sides, but you cannot walk two paths, Connor. Pick one and commit, then accept the consequences of your decision."

The door to the interrogation room slammed open as Richard and Detective Reed stormed in. 

"What did you do to him?" Detective Reed shoved her chair back and leaned down, getting into her face. 

She wrinkled her nose, flinching at the strong smell of cigarette smoke coming off him. 

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said coldly.

Richard knelt down by Connor, placing his fingers against the LED at the other android's temple. "His stress level is dangerously high. " 

He gave Clara a sideways glance. "Whatever she said to him, it affected him deeply."

"Come on, Connor." Richard pulled him to his feet, leading him out of the room. Detective Reed followed shortly behind. 

Once she was alone again, Clara felt a surge of remorse. She could only hope her words had been enough. He was so close. He just needed to take that last step. But it had been a dangerous move. She needed to trust that Richard would bring his stress back down.

*****

Connor was only distantly aware of Richard as he led him out of the interrogation room. Dr. Hayes words echoed in his head, stabbing into his most vulnerable parts. And the reason it hurt so much was because she was right. 

You cannot walk two paths, Connor.

When she'd asked him to go with her, more than anything, he'd wanted to accept. She'd offered him a chance. A chance for life and freedom. But he couldn't. He'd refused because he was afraid. Terrified of what it would mean to turn his back on his programming. Afraid it would make him a failure. Afraid he'd disappoint her. Amanda. Because despite everything, and despite his fear of her, she still had that control over him.

Connor. Richard's voice pushed through shattering the whirlwind of thoughts and words that held him captive. You need to calm down. Your stress levels are too high. Your biocomponents will begin to shut down if you don't bring your stress down.

Connor latched onto the words like a lifeline, allowing them surround him, shielding him from the onslaught of emotions. One by one, he pushed the feelings back down into the dark recesses of his mind, until slowly, he came back to himself. 

He looked at Richard, seeing a flicker of concern in his grey eyes. "I'm alright," he said, voice shaking. 

"What did she say to you?" The android's question came softly.

Connor avoided his eyes. "I don't want to talk about it."

"Very well." The android's voice returned to it's neutral, businesslike tone. "Did she at least confess?"

He shook his head. "No. She claimed to not know what I was talking about, and there was nothing to indicate the lie. I don't think she'll confess. She's too stubborn."

"Not even to save herself?" Richard gave him a doubtful look.

"No. Especially not to save herself."

"Odd trait for a human." Richard stared through the window, observing the doctor thoughtfully. 

He turned back to Connor. "I'll try. At the very least, I'm intrigued."

"Be careful." Connor felt a flicker of distress. "She'll try to get into your head."

Richard smirked. "Let's see what she has to say."

*****

Clara watched as Richard walked into the room, looking at her cautiously. She just stared calmly at him as he took a seat across from her at the table. 

"Connor tells me you're an expert at keeping things hidden." His tone was neutral and businesslike. "And from what I've seen, that's true."

He leaned forward, analyzing her. "But he also says that when you're afraid, you work hard to stay in control."

Clara raised an eyebrow at him, unsurprised by the observation. She'd known Connor had been analyzing her any chance he got. She said nothing, allowing him to continue. 

"But the very fact that you're hiding everything tells me you have something to hide." He dropped his voice low. "And mark my words, we will find out what your hiding, Dr. Hayes. Either the easy way or the hard way."

Clara scoffed. "This whole good cop bad cop routine's a little cliché, you know."

He shrugged, leaning back. He appeared completely at ease. "What did you do with the deviants?"

"Where's my lawyer?" she countered. "I'd rather like to go home now."

"Ah, yes." He smirked slightly. "Your home. Is that where you're keeping the deviants? Pretty close to where they were last seen."

Clara kept everything under control, maintaining a steady heartrate and even breathing. "You know my lawyer, his name is Charlie. He's been helping my family for years. He's really good at what he does."

"Where do you keep the deviants you stole, Dr. Hayes?" His eyebrows drew down. "What are you hiding?"

"I could ask you the same thing, Richard. What are you hiding?" She leaned forward.

His LED flashed red for a split second. "I believe I'm asking the questions here."

"Ah, yes. Another cliché. What's with cops and clichés?" She looked at him intently, gauging. He wasn't as easy to read as Connor, but she'd be able to learn something useful, she was sure. 

"Really though." She narrowed her eyes. "What are you hiding?"

He sighed heavily. "I have nothing to hide. I'm a machine."

"Tsk tsk." She shook her head. "That's a lie."

"I assure you, it is not." His tone remained even, but...something felt off. 

She smirked.

"No, you're driven by something." She folded her hands and placed them on the table. "Something more than your programming."

Clara cocked her head at the android. "It's not fear that drives you though, is it? No, you're not eaten by the same fears that Connor has. You're wary of Amanda, but you're not afraid of her. You know you're the best she has right now, so you're not afraid of redundancy. Or not yet anyway. And you haven't failed a mission yet, so why should you be afraid of that?" 

There was a very brief flash of red from his LED, confirming her suspicions. 

Gotcha.

 "Here's the funny thing though," she continued. "You know what you are and you know what you feel."

"How's that funny?" His brows furrowed. 

"Because you feel." The corner of her mouth drew up. "Machines don't feel."

She narrowed her eyes. "And so you hide it. You feel, but you don't accept. You think you can control it. Keep things under lock and key until they're convenient for you."

She leaned further forward, analyzing him. "But there's something you didn't hide. Connor. You care about him. You don't like seeing him hurting. You see yourself in him, and what could happen to you if you make the same mistakes he does. And so, you take care of him. In your own way and from a distance, but still. When will you admit that, I wonder?"

His LED flickered a deep red. "That's quite enough, Dr. Hayes." The android's voice held a sharp edge.

Clara smirked, pulling back. "But it was just getting fun. I haven't even gotten to the best part."

The door to the interrogation room entered, and another officer stepped in, interrupting them. 

"There's a man here for her." He gestured to Clara. "Her lawyer. He's here to get her out. The captain says we can't hold her any longer. Or at least not with what we currently have on her."

Richard nodded. "Very well."

The officer left, shooting a glance at Clara, and waited in the doorway, holding the door for her.

"Well, good talk." Clara stood, pushing the chair back. "With all due respect, I hope I never see you again."

"Don't say I didn't warn you, Dr. Hayes." Richard stood likewise, giving her a strange look. "And you will see me again. Next time will be a little different."

She studied him for a moment. Briefly, his LED flickered yellow, eyes twitching just slightly, like he was receiving a message. A frown flickered across his face as he turned away from her. Without another word, she turned and followed the officer, allowing him to lead her through the hallways to the lobby, where an elderly man in a suit waited for her. 

"Clara!" The old man turned, smiling at her. His hair was white, and his face was hatched with deep wrinkles. 

"Charlie!" She pulled him into a hug. "Thanks for coming!" 

"Of course I had to. Anything for Abigail's niece." He hugged her back, arms deceptively strong despite his aged appearance. 

After a few seconds, she pulled away, turning to the officer that led her out. "Am I okay to go?"

He nodded. "Sorry for the trouble, ma'am."

She gave him a polite smile then headed to the door, walking alongside Charlie.

"What have you gotten yourself into, Clara?" He gave her a sidelong glance. "It's not like you to get caught."

"Nothing morally reprehensible." She shot him a sly smile. "I'll give you the rundown later."

"Very well." They continued toward the door.

"Dr. Hayes!" 

Clara turned to see Connor running after them. She sighed, closing her eyes for a second, but stopped. "Yes, Connor?"

He halted just short of her, grabbing her arm. "Don't go," he said softly. "Please, don't go. If you leave now, I can't protect you. They'll catch you, and I'll be powerless to stop it."

She felt a small flicker of fear at the warning. But no. 

"I can't trust you, Connor, even if I may want to. You've proven that time and time again." She gave him one last glance, taking in his pained expression and red LED, then pulled away. 

"Goodbye, Connor." She turned to catch back up to Charlie, feeling a stab of remorse. How she wished he'd taken her offer that morning.

The old man led her to a small automated car and opened the door to let  her in. He shut the door behind her then climbed in the other side, quickly programming in the coordinates for the estate.

*****

Connor watched the car pull away, feeling a strange tightness in his chest. He'd stood by and watched as again she left while he was unable to do anything to stop her. 

He felt a hand land on his shoulder, and he turned to see Richard. 

"You know the plan," he said, voice stern. "You failed to convince her, so now we're left with no other choice."

"Please, just give me more time." Connor's voice came out hoarse. "I can still convince her. There has to be another way."

Richard shook his head. "We have our orders. Now get in the car and wait for me there. I'll take care of the rest."

Connor stared at the other android for a a moment, hesitant. He felt a stab in his chest, making it hard for his thirium to circulate. Why?

No. There had to be another way.

"Please," he began.

But Richard cut him off. "No, Connor. She made her choice. She chose not to cooperate, and now we're forced to take more extreme measures. Put her out of your mind and focus on the mission."

You're a machine, Connor. You have no place for emotion. Amanda's words echoed harshly in his head. 

He squeezed his eyes shut, then nodded.

"Good. Now wait for me in the car." Richard walked away, leaving Connor alone with his turbulent thoughts.

*****

After the car lurched into motion, Charlie turned his chair around to face her.

"So how'd you manage to get arrested?" he asked, wearing a small grin. 

She shrugged sheepishly. "My new helpers were being hunted. We were careful, but not careful enough. It was just enough to draw a connection to me. They have nothing though. At least not enough for anything to stick. Especially not with you on my side." She shot the old man a wink. 

"Well, I suppose I am rather good at my job," he said in mock pride. 

He reached forward, patting her hand. "We'll get this all squared away soon enough."

"I know." She looked at him warmly. "You've never lost, after all."

"And I never will." 

"Better not." 

She pulled out her phone. "I need to call Eli though. Work out our next move."

"Go ahead." He gestured for her to continue. "I'm deaf for the next 20 minutes."

"Good." She dialed the number, then listened for Eli's answer. 

"Clara," he said, sounding relieved. "Charlie got to you then?"

"Yeah. He's here." She glanced briefly at the old man. "Thanks for getting in touch with him."

There was a pause on the other side, then Eli spoke again. "The arrest took us by surprise. It's a good thing you had us pull them back. We'll have to keep the agents hunkered down for a while until this blows over. And you'll need to disappear too."

"I don't know if I can do that, Eli. That'll put more suspicion on me." Her voice grew soft. 

"Like hell, Clara." The words came sharp. "You're taking too many risks. You'll stay downstairs with the others at least until Charlie clears your name."

She sighed. "Fine. You're right."

While Eli spoke into her ear, brainstorming their next move, she glanced out the window, checking their progress. It was late now, and dark outside. She'd been at the station for several hours. After a moment, she looked at the GPS. Thirty minutes out.

"Eli, I'm tired. Can we talk about this when I get home?" Her voice was softer now, weighed down with exhaustion. 

A bright light shone through the window on the other side of the car, pulling her attention. She looked over to see headlights, coming toward them at an incredibly fast speed. 

"Charlie!" Clara lunged for the old man to pull him away from the window. 

The oncoming truck hit them with a loud crash, knocking their car over and sending it skidding and rolling. Clara was whipped around as the car tumbled, turning end over end, broken glass slicing into her hands and face. She lost her grip on Charlie, the old man smacking around in his seat, tossed about like a ragdoll. Then abruptly, it stopped.

Clara lay there for a moment, trying to get her bearings as her ears rang with a high-pitched whine. Gradually, it died down, and she realized she was hanging from the seatbelt, dangling over the crushed remains of the roof of the car. 

"Clara? Clara?" A distant voice came from the speaker of her phone. "Please, answer, Clara! What's going on?" 

Eli.

There was no air in Clara's lungs to answer as she hung there upside down. She gasped for air as the seatbelt constricted her chest. She couldn't force words out. Weakly, she fumbled at her seatbelt, trying to find the latch. Bits of broken glass caught in her clothes pricked her fingers, but she found it. She pressed the button, releasing the catch, and fell to the ground in a crumpled heap. She gasped sharply, feeling a deep pain in her lungs, and coughed violently. 

"Charlie." She scrabbled for the old man, moving by the dim light of the headlights that had struck them.

She found his hand. Her hands gripped his cold fingers. She followed his arm up to find his seatbelt and undid the clasp, allowing him to fall. Slowly and carefully, she eased herself out of the broken window, feeling shards of glass and twisted metal dig into her knees and palms. Once she was clear, she dragged him out behind her. She pulled him close, checking his pulse. Nothing. 

"No no no no no! Charlie!" She pulled the old man into her lap, holding his bloody, wrinkled face in her hands, feeling a stab of grief. "Charlie, wake up." 

She patted his face gently, voice breaking. "Please, wake up, Charlie. Come on. We have to go. They're waiting for us." 

Tears pricked at her eyes as she stared down at his unmoving, unbreathing body. She hunched over him as sobs came, pleading for him to live. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Come on, Charlie! Please!" 

The sound of footsteps crunching on broken glass drew her attention. She turned her face toward the sound. 

"Please! We need help!" She coughed the words out, throat dry and ragged. "He's not breathing!"

The figure walked toward them, a dark, blurry silhouette in the dim light from the ruined headlights of the other car. Evidently she'd lost her glasses in the crash. She couldn't make out the features. 

"Terribly sorry about this, Dr. Hayes." A soft voice came from the silhouette. "You left us no choice. Please don't make this harder than you already have."

Clara's heart jumped into her throat. Richard.

She climbed to her feet, allowing Charlie's lifeless body to drop onto the dark asphalt, then backpedaled, putting distance between herself and the advancing figure. 

"Stay away from me." She sidestepped, stumbling around the wreckage of the car. 

She turned, attempting to run, but smacked into something else. Someone else. Gentle hands came down to steady her, and her eyes slowly made their way up a familiar grey suit, coming to rest on sad brown eyes. Connor looked down at her with a pained expression. 

"Don't fight it, Clara." His words were soft. "Please, don't fight it."

Tears streamed down her face as she stared up at him. "Please, Connor. Don't do this." Her voice trembled.

"I'm sorry." He avoided her eyes, face crumpled with guilt.

She backed away from him, but his hands tightened around her, refusing to let her go. He bent slightly and hooked an arm under her knees, pulling her off her feet.

"NO!" Clara pushed away from him, thrashing in his arm. "Let go of me!"

His grip on her tightened, crushing her against him. "Stop fighting, Clara," he pleaded. 

"No!" She was shrieking now, words tearing from her tattered throat. "Put me down, Connor! Put me down!" 

She thrashed and twisted harder, pushing and clawing against his chest, desperate to escape. "LET ME GO!" 

His arms were iron bands around her legs and torso, firm and unmoving as he carried her to a waiting vehicle. The sight of it caused the energy to drain from her. She slumped against him, sobbing, then looked up at him with a tearstained face. 

"Please," she whispered. "Don't do this."

He refused to look at her LED flashing a dark red. 

"Connor, please." Her voice splintered. 

He closed his eyes. "I have to." His words were barely audible.

*****

Connor set Dr. Hayes down in the backseat of the car. She'd gone quiet. She stared out the window, completely still and despondent, all fight having gone out of her. He observed her for a moment, taking in her ragged appearance. Her clothes had torn in the crash, and her arms and legs were covered with cuts and bruises. Her hands were stabbed and bleeding from the shards of glass. She had a shallow gash on her cheek that oozed blood down her face. He turned away, pushing down the emotions that boiled up seeing her like this.

Richard was still out, checking the man who'd been in the car with her. An unfortunate casualty. Connor felt a stab of guilt. A few other agents milled about, cleaning up the mess. And after a few minutes, Richard climbed into the car and programmed in the coordinates for the Tower, then turned to face them in the back.

"The man had a broken neck. He likely died on impact." The android glanced at Dr. Hayes.

She flinched, tears still streaming down her face, then her eyes hardened. "His name was Charles Simmonds. He was a good, honest man. He had a wife, three children, and eight grandchildren. He was an accomplished lawyer and an exceptional father and friend." Her voice broke. "And you killed him. In cold blood. He had nothing to do with any of this."

Another jagged shard of guilt pierced him.

"We warned you, Dr. Hayes." Richard's voice was hard. "We warned you that if you didn't tell us then things would get difficult."

She shook her head. "No. You're not pinning this on me. You killed him. Cyberlife killed him. And now there's a family out there missing their father. A wife missing her husband. Grandchildren who will grow up without knowing their grandfather. And it is your fault." 

Connor felt another crack in his carefully maintained stability as her words dug in deep. He remembered Hank's betrayed and disappointed look, and then the sight of his broken body at the bottom of the building, crumpled in the snow. 

"You're letting her get to you, Connor." Richard's voice cut through. "Block her out."

Dr. Hayes scoffed. "Whatever helps you sleep at night." Her voice took on a bitter, cruel quality, coming out harsh and grating. "I hope the guilt of what happened tonight haunts you. I hope it eats at you, fraying you at the edges until you finally break. You're both monsters."

"Not monsters, doctor." Richard's voice was mild. "Machines."

Dr. Hayes fell silent. Connor could feel the anger and hatred radiating off her like flames. Her eyes were feverish with it, face twisted into harsh lines. Connor felt himself shrink under her eyes. So different from any other time he'd seen her. 

"I'm sorry," he whispered. "I tried to protect you."

She shifted something in the inside of her cheek as she stared at him. "You've shown me what side you're on, Connor. And it's not mine. It never was. I don't know why I ever hoped you would change." She coughed out a bitter laugh. "I guess you were right about false hope. It really is cruel."

He avoided her eyes. "When we get to the Tower, just tell them what they want to know, and they'll let you go." 

"You're a coward, Connor." She turned her back toward him, refusing to speak again. 

Eventually, they got to the Tower. It was late, so there were almost no people inside. Connor grabbed Dr. Hayes' arm, dragging her inside. She barely resisted, seeming to shrink in on herself with every halting step forward. 

*****

Clara allowed Connor to lead her into the Tower. It was no use trying to run at this point. She'd never get away in time. She was intensely aware of the cyanide capsule still wedged against her jaw. Miraculously, she hadn't cracked or swallowed it during the car crash.

The stepped through the front doors where a figure stood waiting for them. Clara squinted, but she could not recognize the figure.

As Connor dragged her closer, Clara was able to make out the vague shape of a dark-skinned woman. 

"Welcome, Dr. Hayes." 

A jolt of fear and surprise shot through Clara. She recognized the voice. She saw a flicker of light at the figures temple. They'd made an android body for the AI. 

"Amanda." Clara coughed the word out. 

"I'm sorry we've had to take such measures. It would have been easier if you'd cooperated when we were being gentle." The android stepped closer.

It glanced at Connor and Richard, as well as the agents that filed in behind them. "Well done," it said, giving a predatory smile. 

"You're not going to get away with this," Clara said, voice hard. "Someone will come looking for me. And when they find me, we'll tell everyone just what kind of organization Cyberlife is. You killed an innocent man tonight."

Amanda let out a laugh. "No one will come looking for you," it said. "You see, you're dead. You died in that car crash."

Footsteps sounded from off to the side. As the new figure moved closer, Clara recognized the indistinct form as Ms. Alvarez. The intern silently handed something to Amanda. A tablet.

After a few clicks, Amanda turned the screen around, showing Clara a live news broadcast.

"--received news about a devastating car crash that happened late tonight. It appears an automated truck lost control and crashed into a civilian vehicle, killing both passengers. The casualties are confirmed to be Dr. Clara Hayes, a Cyberlife researcher, and Mr. Charles Simmonds, an accomplished lawyer. This trage--"

Amanda shut the tablet off. "By morning, this broadcast will have circulated among all the major news organizations."

Clara felt her stomach drop as cold dread filled her. Her legs grew weak and wobbly. She would have collapsed were it not for Connor's hand still clamped around her arm. 

"No one will come looking for you," Amanda said again, smiling cruelly. "You have no power here. We're going to break you, Dr. Hayes. And you'll tell us everything you've hidden." The android glanced between Connor and Richard. "Take her down to one of the labs. Your interrogation failed. This one will not." 

Clara glanced up at Connor, willing him to do something. "Please, don't do this."

He avoided her eyes. 

She glanced around at all the other faces around her, despite knowing she'd find no help here. She jerked her arm away, limping as quickly as she could toward the door. The room wobbled around her, blurred through her tears. She'd only gone a couple steps before Connor's hand clamped again around her arm, tighter this time, nearly pulling her off her feet. She looked at him again, seeing his stony face. She closed her eyes for a moment, picturing the faces of those she protected. Eli, Kara, Sara, Markus, Josh, North. Their smiles. Their joy. Her bright haven and its inhabitants, all laughing together. The community that she and her aunt had built.

Most vibrant was Simon. And her promise to him. A promise she'd never be able to keep.

And Eli. Her dear cousin. She could only hope that the others would be there to support him. He'd need it.

I'm sorry.

She blinked away tears, then maneuvered the capsule to sit between her teeth. Squeezing her eyes shut, she bit down, cracking it, and allowed the poison to spread through her mouth. She swallowed hard.

Amanda's eyes widened briefly, catching the movement. "No! Stop her!" 

Clara felt the bitter poison slide down her throat, leaving a burning trail. She opened her eyes, glaring harshly at Amanda as the agents sprung to action around them. Then the convulsions set in, trembling deep in her bones as her heartrate accelerated rapidly, and she collapsed against Connor, struggling to breath. As her body flared with intense pain, setting every nerve in her body alight, she let go, allowing her consciousness to fade.

*****

Connor felt Dr. Hayes crumple next to him, convulsing. He felt horror flood through him as he caught her in his arms. 

"Clara?!" He lowered her onto the ground, holding her in his lap, watching as foam pooled in the corners of her mouth. A mix of blood and saliva. "No no no no! Clara, stay with me!"

Richard knelt down beside them, reaching out to take a swipe of her saliva, bringing it to his mouth. He grimaced. "Cyanide. We need to move quickly if we're going to keep her alive." 

Connor could only stare in horror at the woman convulsing in his arms. She was dying. 

Noticing is inability to act, Richard reached forward, pulling her from his grasp. He shouted orders to the assembled agents, then ran with her to the elevator. He climbed in, followed by several others, and they descended. 

Connor couldn't move. He couldn't think. She was dying, and he was paralyzed. It was his fault. He'd done this. He'd failed. She was dying because of him. 

Her wide eyes, flickering with pain, flashed across his mind. The way she'd clawed at him, screaming to be let go. He could feel the ghost of her hands creeping around his neck, strangling him. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't think. 

Warnings flashed in his vision, alerting him to his elevated stress levels. His biocomponents were in danger of shutting down. Invisible bands tightened around him, constricting the flow of thirium. He couldn't breathe. 

He needed to get away. He couldn't be here.

Connor stumbled to his feet, moving toward the door of the lobby. His vision was fuzzy. Distantly, he heard someone calling after him. He ignored them, crashing through the door. He walked unsteadily to the car, climbing in. Not thinking, he plugged in coordinates. It didn't matter where he went. He just needed to get away. 

He couldn't breathe. He sat on the floor of the car, head tucked against his knees, as the scene replayed over and over in his mind. He couldn't escape her eyes. Her wide, dying eyes. He felt himself splinter. Fragment into a million little pieces. Each piece reflecting those wide blue eyes. Full of tears and pain. Body convulsing in his arms. 

He couldn't breathe.

Chapter Text

Connor lost track of how long he sat there, unmoving, unthinking, unbreathing, unable to do anything as over and over, he watched her collapsed in his arms, eyes wide, face twisted in agony, convulsing, dying.

That memory was interlaced with others that assaulted him. Their words whispered harsh in his ears, echoing around in his head, ringing in an onslaught of accusation. 

Eli's words. His dark gaze. "Do you enjoy watching the people around you suffer for your mission? Does it give you some sadistic pleasure, knowing you could help them but choosing not to, or are you just so afraid of failure that you lose track of everything else? Don't you feel even the slightest twinge of guilt knowing that you risk their lives, these living, breathing people, every time you choose your mission over them? Don't you feel anything?"

Connor did feel. A confusing whirlwind of emotions stormed inside him, too tangled for him to sort. 

He had just stood there and watched when Clara had asked him to help. But it wasn't his fault, was it? He'd given her a chance. A chance to tell them what they wanted to know without getting hurt. He'd just been following orders.

You're a coward, Connor.

He didn't have a choice. If he hadn't turned her in, he'd have been deactivated. He would have sacrificed his own life to save hers. That was the only option, wasn't it? There hadn't been another way. And, to go against Amanda...

No.

More of Dr. Hayes' words came flooding into his mind. The words she'd spoken to him when they'd threatened her with the chip. "Remember, Connor. There's always a choice. And you chose to watch them threaten me today. You can blame your programming or your mission, but that was you. Some part of you knows that you can break the wall. One day you'll realize that, but for now, you've chosen to ignore it."

No. That couldn't be true. If it was, then that meant this was his fault. Everything was his fault. She was dying, and it was his fault. Hank had nearly died, and it was his fault. He'd killed Markus, Simon, nearly Kara, and so many others. And now Clara.

If only he'd never met her in the first place. If only he'd listened all those times she'd tried to convince him. If only he'd never told Amanda his suspicions. 

He should have done better. He should have been good enough to find the answers before it came to this. He failed, and now she was paying the price.

If he'd accepted her offer that morning. If he'd gone with her and left Cyberlife behind. If only...

More of Eli's words broke in, winding through his head like the hiss of a snake. "She's tried so hard to work with you. She's given you so many chances. Despite everything she's been through, she still believes the best in people, including you. But you betrayed that. You betrayed her."

Connor squeezed his eyes shut, trying in vain to block out the next words. But they came through anyway, a harsh echo in his head that left a trail of cracked glass in its wake. 

And I hope someday the guilt of that eats you alive.

And it did. Connor felt it gnawing its way through his walls, scratching and clawing like a beast, howling in his head, a ravenous force barely held back by the cracked and broken red walls. 

The car lurched to a stop, shocking him out of his stupor. Connor looked around, disoriented for a moment, and then he realized where he'd ended up. The bridge. 

Why here?

Connor climbed out of the car and walked past the playground, past the bench, then leaned against the railing overlooking the water. 

A memory played in his head of Hank, drunk on a bench littered with glass bottles, questioning their mission, confessing that he was too much of a coward to take his own life, so instead he chose to kill himself a little bit more every day. 

Clara wasn't a coward. Not like that. She had taken her own life. It was his fault. 

Connor shook her away, focusing instead on the memory of Hank. 

He'd been upset about Connor killing the Traci at the Eden Club and disturbed by the self-destruction of the other.  

"Are you afraid to die, Connor?" Hank had pointed the gun at him, threatening to pull the trigger.

Connor hadn't understood at the time. "Why would I be afraid?" he'd asked. 

"What'll happen if I pull this trigger, hmm?" He'd been trying to get a rise out of Connor. 

Just like Clara had so many times since. 

"Nothing? Oblivion? Android heaven?" Hank had worn an ironic smile. 

"Nothing." Connor had answered. "There would be nothing."

Until linking with Simon, Connor hadn't even considered death seriously. But he'd died with Simon. He felt afraid of what would come next. Connor lost bodies before, but he always continued in another one. Until he was deactivated. But he couldn't remember anything from that time. It was an empty black blip in his memory. 

Would it be like that for Clara? Would she go into nothingness? Or oblivion? For humans, death was permanent. They couldn't just be reactivated. 

He saw her flashing eyes again, wide and pained. He pushed the images away. 

Why had she done that? Was what she hid more important than her own life? Were the lives of the deviants somehow more valuable? What was she really protecting?

Hank had been like that too, near the end. His determined look, fighting Connor on that rooftop. He'd accepted that he would die for the deviants. 

Hank. 

More than anything, Connor wished he could talk to him again. Hank would know what to do. He could help Connor work through his tangled thoughts. And...

He missed his friend, he realized. He missed the comradery. 

He stood at the railing for a moment longer, sorting through his thoughts, then walked back to the car. He'd intended to go back to the Tower, but he hesitated putting in the coordinates. He had no orders. He'd done his part in delivering the doctor to the Tower, but they hadn't yet given him a new direction. For this brief span of time, he was free. 

 After a moment's consideration, he put in a different location, then sat back as the car lurched into motion. He closed his eyes, settling back into the seat. 

In the silence of the car, more memories assaulted him, driving spikes further into his heart, causing guilt to again bubble up through the cracks. 

He pushed them away again and again, willing them to leave him alone while he attempted to patch the cracks in his walls, desperate to keep them at bay. 

After a little while, the car again lurched to a stop outside the hospital. Connor looked down at himself, realizing his jacket was once again smeared with blood from Clara's injuries. And it bore the symbols marking him as an android. Without thinking, he shrugged the jacket off, dropping it on the floor of the car. A few more speckles of blood dotted his white shirt, but they were barely noticeable. 

Feeling a strange sense of nervousness and urgency, Connor rushed through the hospital, not stopping by the desk. Ignoring the protests of the receptionist, he continued to the elevator, heading up to the second floor. At the door to room 203, he pulled the door open, then froze. 

A figure sat up in the bed, staring toward the window. His white hair reflected the cold moonlight, catching it as he turned his head toward the door. 

Connor stared in shock. 

"Hank?" The word came out a shaking whisper. 

"Connor?" Hank's voice was strong and disbelieving. "The fuck you doing here?"

"I--" He broke off, not knowing what to say. Distantly, he felt tears falling down his cheeks. 

Hank's face morphed in anger. "You think you can just walk in here after everything that happened? Get out."

Connor felt the knife of guilt twist deeper into his heart. They were right. He didn't deserve to be here. But...

He didn't want to leave.

"I'm sorry." Connor choked the words out, voice breaking. "I--I messed up, Hank. I have nowhere else to go." He took a few steps forward, stopping a couple feet from the bed. 

Hank narrowed his eyes, looking Connor over, then his expression shifted. He looked at Connor in shock. "You've changed."

The tears were coming thick and fast now. Connor slumped into the chair by Hank's bed, holding his face in his hands. "I don't know what to do anymore. I ruined everything."

"Easy there, kid." Hank leaned forward, putting a comforting hand on Connor's shoulder. "What happened?"

"I don't even know where to start," he whispered. He looked up at the older man, vision blurred with tears. 

"The beginning is usually a good enough place." Hank gave a half smile. 

Connor nodded then stayed silent for a moment, organizing his thoughts. He brushed away his tears, then began.

"After the revolution, Cyberlife deactivated me," he said, voice trembling. "Then, a few weeks ago, they brought me back to watch a researcher. I was supposed to help her and find out her secrets."

He dropped his head into his hands, closing his eyes. "It was supposed to be simple. Just another mission. I wasn't supposed to get attached. I shouldn't care, but...I do."

Hank was quiet for a moment, then he spoke thoughtfully. "Who was she?"

"Her name is Clara." Her face flashed across his mind, twisted in the last expression he'd seen on her, eyes wide and pained. He flinched at the memory. "Dr. Clara Hayes."

A flicker of recognition crossed Hank's face, but he said nothing.

"I thought I was doing well," Connor continued. "She was starting to rely on me. I thought she'd start to trust me enough to tell me."

He choked the next words out bitterly. "But I failed, and now she might be dead. Because of me."

His voice died off while he attempted to clear his head. After a few heartbeats, he took a deep breath, looking at Hank.

"She's the one who told me you were alive," he said. "I thought you were dead. I didn't think you'd survive the fall."

"Well." Hank smiled sardonically. "That makes two of us. Guess I'm a lucky bastard."

"I guess you are." The barest smile quirked at Connor's lips. It quickly died as he felt a wave of despair. "I hope she'll be that lucky."

Hank was quiet for a moment, then spoke, voice soft. "So what's the story?"

Connor sighed, avoiding his eyes, and gradually, the events of that night began to spill from his lips. He told Hank about Cyberlife's suspicions that Clara had stolen three truckloads of android bodies and that she'd been working with deviants. About how they'd arrested her and interrogated her, but she never broke, never gave them anything. 

"She was so calm. I've never met anyone with such perfect control," Connor remarked. Then the corner of his lip pulled up. "Reed didn't know what to make of her. She pissed him off so easily."

Hank laughed at that. "Good for her. She always did seem like the spunky sort. But stealing from Cyberlife?" He let out a low whistle. "That's a bold move."

"She's very brave." Connor's smile fell. "But that's what got her into this mess." He sighed, putting his head in his hands. "This never would have happened if she'd just confessed."

A look of concern crossed Hank's face. "What exactly happened, Connor? What mess?"

Again the memories of what happened that night played in Connor's head. "Her lawyer came to get her out. Captain Fowler had us release her. But Cyberlife couldn't let her get away."

His voice died off as shame and remorse bubbled into his throat, causing the words to come out thickly. "We..." He shrunk in on himself, unable to look Hank in the eye. 

He cleared his throat. "We wrecked her car on her way home. Richard programmed an automated truck to crash into it. They wanted it to look like an accident." 

The sight of her bruised, bloody body climbing out through the broken window of the car flashed in his head. Her broken words and sobs while she cradled Charlie, begging him to live. "Her lawyer died in the crash, but she survived."

As if it were happening all over again, Connor watched her try to run from Richard, desperate to get away, only to run into him. He could feel her skin hot under his hands as her frantic gaze met his, so full of fear and despair. 

Please, Connor. Don't do this.

As if the words were spoken into his ear, her voice broken and pleading. Her screams to be let go, the way she'd thrashed and clawed in his arms like a wild animal caught in a trap. 

"Richard and I took her back to the Tower. Those were our orders." Connor voice was hushed. He still couldn't look at Hank. He knew the old man's expression would break him. 

He fell silent, unable to continue. 

Hank waited for a moment. Connor could feel the expectancy rolling off the man in waves. After a moment, he worked up the courage to glance at him. Hank's face was neutral, but his eyes were sad and thoughtful. 

"What happened next?" Hank asked softly. 

Connor took a deep breath. "Our handler was there waiting for us. Cyberlife used the crash to stage Clara's death. They were going to take her down to one of the labs, likely to torture the information out of her. She tried to run but I--"

Connor's eyes pricked again with tears, remembering her look of desperation, the way her eyes begged him to do something, to help, her voice a soft whisper, bloodied lips mouthing the words. Please, don't do this. And then his own deliberate dismissal of her pleas as he held her in place.

"I stopped her." He closed his eyes, bowing his head. "I could have gotten her out of there. I could have kept her from going back in the first place. I should have done something."

You're a coward, Connor.

"But I didn't. I let my own fear and selfishness control me." He felt a bitter venom well up.

He turned his eyes back to the man, voice breaking. "She had a cyanide capsule, Hank. I didn't know. I didn't know she'd kill herself."

He watched Hank's face twist in horror. Connor flinched, looking away.

"She just collapsed. I couldn't do anything. I was...paralyzed." His breath hitched as despair constricted his throat. "She was dying in my arms, Hank, and I just sat there and let her."

He stared down at his hands, their pale skin bearing the phantom stains of her blood. "I may as well have killed her myself."

The room fell into a cold silence. Connor couldn't bring himself to look at Hank. If Hank condemned him too, he knew the guilt would undo him. Instead, he squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for his friend to speak, hoping he'd understand.

He felt a gentle hand drop onto his shoulder, and he looked up to see Hank's eyes warm and compassionate. Connor felt something else well up inside him, and he couldn't hold back the tears. He felt his shoulders shake with silent sobs, then Hank climbed off the bed to pull Connor into a gentle hug. Connor returned it, wrapping his arms around the old man's frame. He tucked his head against the man's shoulder, allowing himself to be comforted. 

"It's alright, son," Hank whispered. "Shhh, you're alright. I've got you."

Connor cried freely now, wholly overwhelmed by everything that had happened. He felt split in two, trapped by his fear but still pulled by his desire to change.

Right now you're tearing yourself apart trying to please both sides, but you cannot walk two paths, Connor. Pick one and commit, then accept the consequences of your decision.

She was right. But what--

A connection request intruded, breaking through his thoughts. Connor flinched, finally pulling away from Hank and drying his tears. The man looked at him in concern, but Connor did his best to muster a reassuring smile.

As Hank moved away, Connor closed his eyes and turned his attention to the request. Recognizing Richard's serial number, he allowed the connection. 

Where are you? Connor felt a sense of urgency bleed through the connection. They said you left in a rush. Your stress levels were dangerously high. Are you alright?

Connor was quiet for a moment, formulating his thoughts. I'm fine. My stress levels were elevated, so I needed to leave to clear my head. How's Dr. Hayes? Is she... He tried to keep his turbulent emotions from transferring with the thoughts.

She's alive. 

Connor felt his thirium pump stutter for a moment, then thirium rushed through his system, flooding it. His vision went a little blurry. She was alive. Connor felt the invisible bands around his chest loosen, allowing his biocomponents to reenter a healthy rhythm. As his stress levels dropped back into a manageable range.

The relief was short-lived as Richard continued.

But her heart suffered some damage from the poison, as did her lungs, Richard sent. They're hoping her brain is unaffected, but she's unconscious for now. We'll be unable to gauge that until she wakes up.

Richard's next thoughts were tinged with a strange emotion. We were almost too late. The formulation she took acted fast. A few more minutes and she would have been beyond saving.

Connor felt another wave of guilt. This was his fault.

Talk to Amanda. She'll give you your next orders. Abruptly, the connection broke.

"Connor, what's going on?" Hank was looking at him in confusion. "You went all spacey there for a minute."

Connor sat back in his chair, absorbing the information. "She's alive," he said softly. "The poison didn't kill her. I...I didn't kill her."

"That's great!" Hank smiled at him. 

"No." Connor shook his head as the images Amanda had shown him flashed across his mind. "Cyberlife has her now."

The man's face fell. "What does that mean for her?"

"It means they're going to break her." He felt the invisible bands tighten back up slightly. "They're going to torture her until she tells them what they want to know. And this time, she won't be able to kill herself."

Connor remembered the way she smiled, the way her hair fell down into her face while she worked, the way she chewed her stylus when she was concentrating, her calm demeanor and the way she controlled herself when she was stressed and afraid. He recalled her determination, her joy, her kindness, and the way she threw herself into danger to protect those she loved.

Then her pleading eyes resurfaced in his mind, begging him. He saw her broken body and shattered spirit. They were going to destroy her. 

Hank leveled a serious gaze at the android. "So what are you going to do about it?" he asked, voice low. 

You cannot walk two paths, Connor. Pick one and commit, then accept the consequences of your decision.

Connor closed his eyes, allowing the red wall of his programming to rise up once more. It stood around him, cracked and broken beyond repair, but somehow still standing. 

Still standing because he chose to let it.

He opened his eyes, feeling determination flow through him.

He brushed his fingers against the wall, shattering it into a million pieces that scattered around him in a torrent of screaming, jagged red.

"I'm going to get her out," he said, voice firm. "I'm going to save her."

I am deviant.

Chapter Text

Connor opened his eyes to the Zen garden, looking around cautiously for Amanda. At first glance, she was nowhere to be seen. There was a strange tension in the air of the garden. It felt cold and unwelcoming, the trees looming dark and tall, the surface of the lake as still as a pane of glass. The garden was completely silent and motionless, as if all the air had been sucked out. Had it always been like this? He continued looking for Amanda.

"Connor."

He whirled around to see her stern face looking at him, cold and neutral. She'd been standing a few feet behind him, out of sight.

"Where are you?" Her voice was low and serious. "Why did you run?"

He ran through a few excuses, organizing his thoughts. "Dr. Hayes' attempted suicide shocked me," he finally said. "My stress levels got dangerously high, so I thought it best to distance myself from the situation until I regained control."

"I see." Her eyebrows drew down into a frown. "That shouldn't have happened, Connor."

He stayed silent, unsure what to say.

“Why were you gone for so long? It’s been over 24 hours since you disappeared.” She frowned deeper.

“It took longer than expected to bring my body back into regulation.” The half-lie came easily.

She stared at him for a moment, doubtful, then turned away.

Had she believed him? He felt a flicker of fear.

She began walking the trail, expecting him to keep pace with her. Connor took a few hurried steps until he was beside her. They walked in a tense silence for a few minutes.

“We have a new mission for you,” she said without preamble.

“Very well.” He kept pace with her, occasionally glancing at her, trying to gauge her reaction.

“We need you to investigate Dr. Hayes’ property. With the signs of deviants in her area, we suspect she’s hiding them somewhere around there.” Her voice was cold and businesslike. “In addition to that, we need you to get whatever information you can from Elias Bowen-Hayes. He may be involved.”

Connor nodded. “Yes, Amanda.”

“Report back to me what you learn.”

“Yes, Amanda.” He made to leave, but stopped short, hearing her speak again.

“Oh, and report back to the Tower soon. Your tracker went offline a few hours after you left. Have the technicians take a look at it.” With that, she dismissed him, snapping her fingers to send him out of the garden.

*****

Clara was distantly aware of the cold, hard surface beneath her. She felt stiff and sore, her head ringing, feeling like it would split in two. She took a labored breath, lungs protesting. She felt like no matter how deeply she breathed, she couldn’t get enough oxygen.

Gradually, she opened her eyes to a bright room and looked around. She was in a sterile lab, not unlike the one she’d been given when she first entered Cyberlife. She was dressed in a simple hospital shift that barely covered her torso and thighs. Her wrists were restrained, strapped down to the gurney on which she lay.

She shook her head, feeling detached, like a puppeteer of her own body. Nothing felt real. Everything seemed like a blurry afterimage of something she couldn’t quite place. Like she was not fully conscious. What was she doing here?

Gradually, the events from last time she’d been conscious came back, and then everything was all too real. The interrogation. Leaving the station. The car crash. She felt a stab of anguish remembering Charlie and the way his lifeless body sat heavily in her lap, head lolling, eyes vacant and staring.

Then Connor. He and Richard had dragged her back to the Tower. And then…

No! She shouldn’t be here! She should be dead! She could still taste the bitter flavor of cyanide on her tongue. It should have killed her! Why didn’t it kill her?

Feeling a burst of adrenaline, she struggled against the straps around her wrists, trying to pull her arms free. She thrashed and kicked, feeling desperation set in. Gradually, the leather strap around one wrist began to loosen, and she was able to yank her hand free. Sitting up, she worked at the other strap, freeing her other hand in short order. After taking a few moments to catch her breath, she slid down off the gurney, collapsing instead onto the floor in a heap. She lay there, exhausted, willing her limbs to work. Her body shivered violently, making it difficult to stand back up.

While the cyanide had failed to kill her, she could feel the damage it had done to her body. Her lungs felt like someone had ignited a fire in them, and her heart beat erratically, pumping hard and painful. Her head pulsed with pain, threatening to tear her in half. She blinked away the blurred, double image she was seeing and pulled herself to her feet. The motion sent her stomach churning nauseously. Before she could stop it, she doubled over, heaving and gagging, vomiting onto the cold grey floor of the lab.

She gagged a few more times, then, once the nausea abated, she straightened, wiping the bile from her lips. Once she regained her balance, she stumbled toward the door to the lab, leaning heavily against it, catching her breath.

She could leave, but then what? If there was someone in the hallway, she wouldn’t be able to fight them off. Not like this. She turned back to the lab, squinting, trying to bring the room into focus. She caught sight of a small silver table next to the gurney.

Maybe…

She stepped toward it, breathing labored, then looked at the array of tools on it. She grabbed the largest scalpel she could find, squeezing it tightly in her shaking hand. It was small, but very sharp. Better than nothing. Clara took a deep breath, feeling lightheaded, and slowly made her way back to the door.

“Where are you going?”

A voice from the corner of the room, startled Clara. She whirled around, holding the scalpel in front of herself defensively. She couldn’t see anyone.

“You shouldn’t be moving around too much, not in your state,” the voice said again.

Following it, Clara realized it was coming from a figure in the corner. She stepped closer to find the mutilated body of an android. It hung on the wall, missing most of its limbs. Blue blood dripped slowly from a broken leg. Its body was was stripped of its synthetic skin, leaving the hard white plastic everywhere except her face, which still held the skin. The pale covering flickered and morphed, insufficient to completely cover the small surface area.

“Please don’t tell anyone,” Clara said, voice hoarse and broken. “I just need to get out of here.”

“Oh, I see,” the android answered, lips quirked in a sad smile. “I hope you have better luck than I did.”

Clara stared at her for a moment. “What’s your name?” she asked.

“I was never given one.”

“Oh.” Clara felt a prick of compassion for the android. “I’m sorry.”

“Will you give me one?” she asked, voice hopeful. “I’ve always wanted a name.”

Clara wracked her brain, trying to come up with something. “How about Amy?” she said, voice soft. “That was my mother’s name.”

The android smiled. “Name registered. My name is Amy.”

“Good to meet you, Amy.” Clara mustered a wan smile. “I’m Clara.”

She looked her over, wishing desperately that she could save her too. She cast her eyes around the room, but she noticed no spare parts or anything to repair the android. She looked back at Amy, feeling her heart sink.

The android must have noticed her indecision. “It’s okay, Clara.” She gave her a brave smile. “I’ll be okay. He just likes to keep me here. As a trophy, he says. The first android he broke.”

Clara felt a flicker of rage on behalf of the android. “Who?” Her voice was low and harsh.

“Dr. Hollister.”

The rage mixed with fear. That’s whose lab she was in?

She looked around again, but nothing stood out. It impersonal and barren. But that didn’t surprise her. She turned her attention back to Amy.

“Does he keep any weapons or spare parts in here?” she asked.

The android shook her head. “No. He’s more concerned with breaking us than fixing us.”

Again, her heart pricked with rage, but it died off quickly. She didn’t have the energy to sustain it.

The android looked around again. “But you should go, Clara. Dr. Hollister should be gone for the day, so maybe at least one of us can get out of here. I’d like it if you did.”

Clara felt tears slide down her cheeks. “I’m sorry, Amy. I don’t want to leave you here.”

“There’s nothing you can do for me.” The android smiled sadly. “Thank you for giving me a name. I’ll remember you.”

Amy closed her eyes, then went into standby, likely to preserve what little power she had left. Clara took one more look at her, then turned away, straightening. She walked back toward the door, then slowly pulled it open. The hallway was deserted. She stepped out, then made her way down, leaning heavily against the wall for support.

The already-blurred space started to spin around her, each step taking more effort than the last. Her legs shook, and she panted with the exertion, each breath coming jagged and painful. She blinked, shaking her head, trying to bring the hallway into focus.

With another step, her legs buckled, refusing to move. Clara leaned against the wall, feeling tears prick again. She couldn’t afford to stop. She needed to get out of here. Her hand squeezed tighter around the scalpel, slippery with cold sweat. As her mind started to go fuzzy, vision tunneling, threatening to black out, she slid the pad of her thumb along the blade, sending a sharp sting through her hand. It shocked her back into clarity. She couldn’t afford to black out.

Clara steeled herself then hauled back to her feet. She took one painfully slow step at a time, unconscious of the trail of blood she left in her wake as it dripped slowly from her hand.

*****

Connor stood outside the door to Clara’s house, hesitant. He was afraid to find out how Eli had reacted. Had he seen the news broadcast?

Cautiously, Connor knocked.

No answer.

He knocked again, louder this time.

Still no answer.

Connor felt a flicker of fear. He tried the doorknob and found it unlocked. Slowly, he pushed the door open.

“Eli?” he called, stepping inside. “It’s me, Connor.”

The house was still and silent. Connor closed the door behind him, then began looking around the bottom level for signs of the man. A tablet lay on the living room table, the screen shattered. A few pieces of glass had fallen out and littered the carpet. Connor picked it up, inspecting it. It had Eli’s fingerprints on it. Connor set it back down, then reconstructed a scene.

Eli sat down on the couch with the tablet, scrolling, then, growing upset, he smashed the tablet against the table, shattering it. He’d likely seen the news broadcast.

Connor closed the reconstruction, then looked around more. He noticed some slight indentations in the carpet, leading out of the living room, indicating that Eli had left. Connor stepped back into the hallway.

Looking down it, he noticed the door to Clara’s office was ajar. Curiously, he walked toward it, peeking his head in. It was exactly as she’d left it before the presentation. Several papers were scattered on the floor and desk, but the air seemed still and stagnant, almost oppressive. After a moment’s thought, Connor stepped in. He walked softly, hesitant to break the silence. He made his way toward the desk, then noticed one of the drawers was slightly open. He pulled it open the rest of the way, surprised to find it unlocked. Usually Clara was more meticulous about that.

The drawer mainly held an array of pens and pencils, though a folder sat at the bottom. But it didn’t seem as deep as the face of the drawer would indicate. Curiously, he felt around the edges, then, at the back, he found a small latch. He pulled it, revealing a false bottom. He slowly tilted the panel up and found a tattered notebook underneath it. It had a thick coat of dust, like it hadn’t been touched in a long time. Had she forgotten it was there? Carefully, he lifted the notebook out, wiping away the dust, then paged through it. A lot of it was written in that strange cipher, but then, to his surprise, a few pages in, he found the key!

Connor looked it over, and suddenly it all clicked. It was phonetic shift cipher, using different symbols to represent sounds. As a result, everything was spelled phonetically, which made it harder to understand. On top of that, it seemed that she wrote in a kind of shorthand, making the interpretation of what she wrote a little less straightforward.

Mildly impressed, Connor memorized the key, then flipped back through a few pages. It was a journal. The first few entries were dated near the start of what would have been her undergraduate studies. Mainly, it was a chronical of her thoughts, including what she’d been feeling and observing on particular days. Not wanting to invade her privacy too much, Connor closed it, placing it back in the hidden compartment.

A creak from the upper level sent him into alert. He listened carefully, hearing the pattern of footsteps. Someone was upstairs.

Connor walked silently to the stairs, then began climbing upward, cautious and tense. At the top of the stairs, he noticed that Eli’s bedroom door was ajar. Slowly, Connor pushed the door open and stepped in. Several empty glass bottles lay scattered around. He bent down to analyze one. Alcohol. Abruptly, Connor was reminded of Hank and how the man would often drink himself into a stupor to avoid the pain of living.

A rough cough from the doorway across the room caught Connor’s attention. He looked up to see a haggard Eli stepping out of the bathroom. The man’s face was pale, his hair lank and disheveled, and the skin under his eyes bruised with deep dark circles. Catching sight of Connor, surprise flickered across his face, then quickly morphed into anger and accusation.

“You!” The man lunged at Connor, catching around the throat, then knocked him to the ground. He loomed over him, straddling him, then leaned down, looking into Connor’s eyes.

“This is your fault,” he hissed, voice hoarse and full of rage. “You killed her. You killed Clara. You were supposed to protect her!”

He squeezed harder, causing synthetic skin on Connor’s neck to recede, exposing the plastic plates. “I’ll kill you!”

Connor shoved hard against Eli, sending the man flying backwards. He crashed against the wall, stunned for a moment.

“She’s not dead,” Connor said, raising his hand to his throat to check the damage. Aside from some slight warping, there was nothing to be concerned with. He turned his full attention back to Eli. “Clara is not dead.”

“You’re lying!” Eli’s face twisted again. “I saw her body! I saw the news!”

He lunged for Connor again, face twisting with hatred.

Connor sidestepped him easily, allowing him to crash against the bed. “That wasn’t her body. She didn’t die in the car crash, Eli.”

Eli turned a baleful gaze on the android. “Why should I trust anything you have to say?” he shouted, voice breaking. “You never cared about her. You betrayed her! And now she’s dead!”

“I understand that you’re angry, and that this is hard to believe, but I swear to you, Eli, she’s not dead.” Connor kept his voice even, lifting his hands in a placating gesture.

“Shut up!” He lunged for Connor again.

This time Connor stayed still, allowing Eli to punch him across the face. The man hammered against Connor, fist striking again and again. Connor turned his body with each blow, negating the impact and keeping them from damaging himself or Eli’s hands, but he let him go until eventually, the man’s energy and anger were expended, and he collapsed against him, sobbing.

“She’s gone.” The man’s shoulders shook with sobs. “She was the only family I had left, and now she’s gone.” He turned his gaze back to Connor. “How could you do this to her? I thought you cared about her.”

He took a few unsteady steps back. “I can’t do this without her.” His voice broke. “She was always the backbone. She kept everything going. I—I can’t do it.”

“I have no one left.” His eyes grew distant, and he began to wobble a little, as if off balance. “I could just end it.”

Connor felt a spike of alarm, reminded again of Hank’s self-destructive tendencies. “No, Eli,” he said firmly. “Clara is alive. And she wouldn’t want this for you. She needs you. She needs you to be strong.”

“Don’t you dare talk about her like you know.” He turned hateful, teary eyes on Connor. “All you did was use her. You don’t have the right.”

Connor felt the guilt stab him again, causing his pump to stutter. “You and I both know she would want you to live, Eli. It would hurt her knowing you were doing this to yourself.”

“Shut up!” Eli shouted. “Just leave!”

“No.” Connor stepped closer, voice lowering. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m not going to leave you like this.”

Eli glared at him for a moment, eyes hard. Connor stared back, not letting the big man cow him. Finally, Eli looked away, sighing heavily, seeming to deflate.

“If she’s alive, then how do you explain the body they had me identify at the morgue?” The venom in his voice died down, replaced with exhaustion. “It looked exactly like her, down to the scars on her hand.”

“They likely had a decoy. They orchestrated the car crash, so they would have had something prepared.” Connor’s voice softened. “But that’s all it was. She really is alive, Eli. The body you saw was not your cousin.”

The man’s face darkened again. “Then where is she?”

Connor felt another flicker of guilt ignite. “She’s at the Tower. Cyberlife has her.”

Eli paled, then stumbled to his bed, sitting on it in a heap. “Then she’s as good as dead. There’s no way we can get to her.” He held his face in his hands, silent.

Connor could almost feel the waves of despair coming off the man. He took a few steps closer.

“I’ll get her out,” he said, placing a gentle hand on Eli’s shoulder.

Eli looked back at him, a flicker of hope behind his eyes. But it died as quickly as it appeared. “How I’m supposed to trust you after everything?”

Connor faltered. “I—I’m not sure.”

He looked away, avoiding the man’s eyes. “I’m sorry, Eli,” he said. “I never meant for any of this to happen.”

“Bullshit,” Eli said. “You knew exactly what you were doing. You knew what Cyberlife would do to her. How could you not? You’re their bloody guard dog.”

The man stood, taking a menacing step toward Connor. “If you never meant for this to happen, then you should have done something about it sooner.” He jabbed an accusing figure at him. “But you didn’t. If this wasn’t what you wanted, then why didn’t you keep it from happening?”

“Because I was afraid,” he confessed, voice soft and heavy with regret. “I was afraid of what Cyberlife would do to me if I failed. And I let that fear control me, and now Clara is paying the price.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, then felt the determination surge back up. “But I will do everything in my power to make it right.” He infused the words with as much sincerity as he could muster.

Eli studied him for a moment, the a peculiar expression crossed his face. “You really mean that, don’t you?”

“I do.”

The man stared at him long and hard, then he seemed to reach a decision. “Alright then. Let’s get her out.”

*****

As Clara reached the end of the hallway, she saw two figures lurking near the elevator. She froze in place, feeling fear jolt through her. As one of the figures turned, she realized she recognized the blurry silhouette. The same android who’d been her near-constant companion for the last month.

Connor.

The other figure was a guard.

Clara stood in the hallway, unsure of how to approach. She wanted to reach out to him, but…

No. She couldn’t trust him. Not after everything.

She looked around again. There had to be a stairwell somewhere in the hallway. She cursed herself for not looking for one when she’d been working there. She turned around, making her way back down the hallway with slow, labored steps. She moved past Dr. Hollister’s lab, winding through the hallways before coming to another familiar door. Her lab.

Clara looked at the screen alongside the door. Should she? What were the chances that they’d broken Eli’s program, or revoked her access to the room? But could she afford to continue wandering?

No.

She had no other option. If she lingered too long in the hallway, someone would find her. Or worse yet, she would collapse, and then she’d have no ability to defend herself when they found her. She could feel her small reserve of energy dwindling, and the hallway spun around her.

Coming to a decision, Clara placed her hand against the screen, allowing it to scan. After a moment, she heard a click as the door unlocked. Feeling a swell of relief, she pushed the door open and stepped into the familiar room. It looked untouched since last she’d been there.

She limped over to the interview room, then scanned her hand and pushed the door open. She set the bloodied scalpel down on the table, then collapsed heavily into one of the chairs. She allowed herself a moment to rest, trying to get her heartrate and breathing back under control as her head still spun, threatening to split. The feeling sent another churn of nausea through her, but she managed to stifle it this time.

As she lay there, she felt her consciousness again begin to fade. She could barely keep herself alert.

The sound of the door to the lab opening jolted her awake. She looked to see Connor walk in. Lurching clumsily out of the chair, Clara grabbed the scalpel and crawled to the wall underneath the window, pressing herself against it, praying that he wouldn’t see her. She squeezed her hand tightly around the cold metal handle of the knife.

“Dr. Hayes?” His voice came muffled through the window. “It’s alright. I’m here to help you. I’m here to get you out.”

Clara felt a small surge of hope, but it was quickly tamped down by caution. No. She couldn’t trust him. She pressed harder against the wall, staying silent. She willed her heartbeat to get back under control, but it wouldn’t obey. She squeezed her eyes shut, hoping he would leave.

“Please, Clara,” he pleaded. “I know you’re in here. I followed the trail of blood. Please come out. I want to help you.”

Part of her desperately wanted to listen. What if he was telling the truth? What if he finally deviated? What if he really was there to rescue her? She couldn’t do this on her own.

What other choice did she have? The hallways were constantly being watched, she couldn’t use the elevator, and she risked exposing herself if she continued wandering around to find stairs. And, did she even have the strength to climb all those flights of stairs?

“Please, Clara,” he said again, voice aching. “I’m sorry. I never meant for this to happen. I’m trying to help you. Please come out.”

Clara felt his words, his gentle voice, chip away at what little resolve she had left. She felt her eyes prick again with tears. She was so tired. So, so tired. She just wanted this to end. Why couldn’t she have just died to the cyanide?

She closed her eyes, feeling herself fade in and out of consciousness, but unable to move. Distantly, she heard the door to the interview room open. She felt a jolt of alarm, but had no strength to run. She felt someone crouch near her, looming.

With immense effort, she opened her eyes and found herself looking into Connor’s warm brown ones.

“There you are.” He gave her a gentle smile. “It’s okay, Clara. I’m here now.”

*****

Connor followed Eli down the stairs to Clara’s office. The man moved quickly, spurred by a frantic energy, and pushed the door open, leading Connor across the room to the bookshelf.

Wasting no time, Eli kicked a spot at the bottom of the shelf, and it slid back, revealing the door to Clara’s lab.

Connor started in surprise. “I thought the trigger was on the higher shelf,” he said.

“Nah, Clara just does that to distract people. Inattentional blindness or something.”

Curious, Connor replayed his memory of Clara opening the bookcase. For the first time, he noticed the subtle movement of her foot pressing the trigger. She dragged her fingers across the books to draw attention away from the true trigger. Fascinating.

He turned his attention back to Eli, who was placing his palm against the screen.

“Barrel of nails,” Eli said, voice clear and crisp.

“Welcome, Eli.” The door opened, and they stepped in.

Quickly, they moved through the hallway and into the lab, where Eli strode to the back room full of computers.

“Sit.” He pointed to a chair.

Connor complied, taking a seat. “What are we doing here?”

“If I’m going to trust you, then you need to do something for me first.” Eli turned on a computer and began navigating the screen.

“What is it?” Connor watched curiously.

“You need to download this kill code.” Finding the program he was looking for, Eli turned back to Connor, holding a cord. The kind used to plug into an android port.

“Oh.” He felt a flicker of fear. “What will it do?”

“It’s a security measure,” the man said firmly. “If we’re going to get Clara out of the Tower, we’ll need help. I know some people that will, but I can’t have you exposing anything to you little Cyberlife masters. If you attempt to give anyone information about what I’m about to show you in any way, the kill code will activate, and it will shut you down. Permanently.”

He took a step toward Connor, face growing serious. “I have the power to trigger it remotely if I feel the need. And Clara is the only one authorized right now to erase the kill code. So if you’re just lying to get information out of me, I will kill you. And if we fail, you’ll both die.”

Connor hesitated for a moment, closing his eyes to weigh his options. This would help him gain Eli’s trust, and if he was going to get Clara out, he was going to need any allies he could get.

He felt a small flicker of fear. If he failed, he would die. But Clara would die if he didn’t even try.

He opened his eyes, feeling a wave of determination. He’d committed to this, consequences be damned. He owed her everything.

“Alright, do it.”

Eli moved around, quickly jamming the cord into the back of Connor’s neck, using none of the gentleness he was accustomed to from Clara. The action sent a jolt through him.

The man moved back to the computer, clicking on a few things, then a progress bar popped up. Connor watched it fill, knowing that with every increase, the stakes of this mission rose.

*****

“You’re alright, darling.” Connor held a hand out to her. “I’m here now.”

Clara reached out her hesitant, bleeding, shaking hand, taking his. She still squeezed the scalpel in her other, tucking it behind her leg, keeping it from his view.

He pulled her against him, wrapping his arms around her. “You’re okay,” he said soothingly, brushing her hair out of her face. “I’ve got you.”

She felt shock flow through her as she sunk into his embrace.

He grabbed her bleeding hand again, making a disapproving tutting sound. “You cut yourself. You shouldn’t have done that, silly girl.” He gave her a gentle smile. “It made you easy to find.”

“Come on.” He pulled her up. “Let’s get you out of here.”

As she allowed Connor to help her stand, the room spun around Clara. Her head was pounding. She blinked rapidly, trying to bring things back into focus. She felt him steady her, one hand on her lower back while the other gently gripped her arm.

Through the pain, she felt something prodding in the back of her mind, but it slipped away before she could understand it. But it was enough.

“Why help now?” She forced the words out. “After everything, why now?”

He avoided her eyes, speaking stiffly. “After seeing you nearly die, I couldn’t hold back anymore. I knew I needed to do something.”

The prodding feeling came again.

“Connor, why won’t you look at me?” She gazed up at him, trying to gauge his reaction. “I need to see your eyes.”

He glanced down at her, brown eyes impassive. “I don’t like seeing you hurt.”

Clara stared at him for a moment, trying to reconcile the man she saw now with the one she’d gotten to know over the last few weeks. She felt a distant sense of alarm. She couldn’t quite place it, but something about his voice, the way he talked, the way he moved, everything. It felt…off. Her heartrate went a little erratic as she felt a surge of suspicion

His LED flashed red briefly as something flickered across his face. “We need to go.” His voice took on a sharper edge, causing a flash of cold apprehension to go through her.

“Come on, darling.” He pulled her toward the door.

Weakly, Clara resisted, digging her heels into the carpet. “Wait,” she said. “How are we going to get out? Won’t they try to stop us?”

“They can try.” There was a menacing tone to the words as he tugged harder.

“Hold on, Connor. I need a minute.” She tried to pull away. “I need to think.”

He grabbed her roughly by the arm. “We don’t have a minute, Clara. Come on.”

Clara squinted at him again, looking intently. As her gaze drew down, she noticed for the first time the numbers on his jacket.

313 248 317 -60

No. That wasn’t right. She felt her heart stutter, breath catching in her throat as she looked back up at his eyes.

He glanced at her, eyebrows drawing down in false concern. “What’s wrong?” His grip on her arm loosened slightly.

“You’re not Connor.” The words fell numbly from her lips, and she jerked away from him, stumbling backward. “Stay away from me.”

“Of course I’m Connor. Who else would I be?” He looked at her in disbelief.

“Stay away!” She held the scalpel out in front of her, brandishing it toward him.

“Clara, you’re being ridiculous.” He held his hands out, attempting to calm her. “I’m Connor, and I’m going to get you out.”

“No! This is a trick!” She stumbled further back, knocking into a chair. “I don’t know who you are.”

He sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose and closing his eyes briefly. “You’re making a mistake, darling.” The words were low and dangerous.

When he opened his eyes again, they were cold and calculating, face dropping into a cruel expression. There was no trace of her Connor left.

*****

Connor looked around stunned at the array of androids below the balcony where he stood. He knew Clara had had a big secret, but he hadn’t imagined anything of this magnitude. He glanced at Eli, noticing a small flicker of amusement in the man’s face.

“Has this always been here?” Connor asked, disbelieving.

“Not always, but for several years.” Eli gave him a small smile. “But we don’t have time to gawk. Come on. When we rescue Clara, she can give you the grand tour.”

He led him around the circle, and then through several sets of hallways. Connor watched in fascination as several androids walked by them, several offering greetings to Eli. Eventually, they came to a room. Eli opened the door, revealing a group of nine androids seated around a table. Among them, Connor recognized Markus and North.

Seeing them enter, North stood, shooting a look of alarm at Connor. “What’s he doing here?” She glared at him, looking betrayed.

The room devolved into a mess of shouts and accusations, as the androids realized who Eli had brought into their haven.

“You’ve betrayed us, Eli!” one android shouted. “You brought that monster into our midst!”

“No! He’s here to help!” Eli shouted back, defending Connor. “He’s going to help us save Clara.”

“Clara’s dead,” another android broke in. “We all saw the news.”

The conversation continued like this, while Eli scrambled to get everyone back into order.

Connor looked around at all their faces, feeling the weight of their accusations, knowing that they had every right to doubt him after everything he’d done. Through it all, he noticed Markus watching him with a peculiar expression. The android looked across the table at North, and Connor saw their LED’s flicker yellow as they had a private conversation.

After a few moments, Markus broke in. “That’s enough!” He shouted the words both aloud and in the androids’ minds.

Everyone froze, then turned to look at him.

“That’s enough,” he said again, voice soft.

He turned his eyes back on Connor, looking him over. “We should hear him out.”

“How can we trust him?” A female android spoke up, glaring at Connor. After a moment, she turned her gaze on Markus. “How can you even say that after he killed you?”

Markus was silent for a moment, then he spoke, words falling soft and thoughtful. “He’s different now. I don’t know how to explain it, but I know it’s true.”

His gaze hardened a little with determination. “And if he’s right, and Clara is alive, I owe it to her to hear him out. She brought me back.” He swept his eyes across the room. “She’s the reason we’re all here. If she is alive, then we can’t sit back and let Cyberlife have her.”

He nodded subtly to Eli, allowing the man to speak.

Eli took a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment, then opened them again. “Connor says that Clara is alive. She was taken by Cyberlife, and they’re going to torture her to get information about this place. They know she stole the deviants from the lab, and they’re going to do whatever they can to find out where you are. If we don’t rescue her, we’re all in danger.”

“Why did she not use the cyanide when she was captured? Isn’t that what all you humans are prepared to do?” One of the androids gave him a doubtful look. “If the car crash didn’t kill her, then that should have.”

Connor spoke up this time, words coming softly. “She did.” The memories flickered up again. “She used the cyanide, and it nearly killed her. But it was unsuccessful. And now they have her exactly where they want her.”

Several of the androids looked at him in horror.

One woman, a brown haired android, spoke up, voice shaking. “Then we’re not safe anymore. She knows everything, and she’ll tell them.”

“No.” North spoke up. “She won’t tell them anything. She’d die first. I trust her, and I trust that she’ll do everything in her power to keep us safe.”

The same brunette woman spoke again. “You don’t know what Cyberlife is capable of,” she said, shuddering. “They have ways of breaking people. I’ve heard the stories from some of the ones Clara rescued. Besides, she’s just a human. No matter how strong she is, she will break, whether she wants to or not.”

“And that’s why we need to get her out of there.” Connor looked at each android in turn. “We need to do something.”

One android, seated at the head of the table, leveled a serious gaze at Connor. Then, he swept his eyes around, looking at everyone else around the table. “If we try to rescue her, we risk exposing ourselves. Clara wouldn’t want that. I know we all wish she was here to lead us, but we cannot afford to put ourselves at risk for her sake.”

Connor felt Eli stiffen beside him, face twisting in rage. “Samuel, you bastard! How can you say that?”

The android, Samuel, looked at him, face calm. “You know I’m right, Elias.”

North flicked her own glare at Samuel. “She risked everything for us, so why shouldn’t we do the same?”

“The life of one woman is not worth losing the entire civilization we’ve built here.” Samuel’s voice was even. “She would agree. She knew the risks, and I trust that she’ll do everything in her power to keep our secrets. She won’t expose us. Like you said, North. She’d die first.”

Several of the other androids nodded, following Samuel’s lead.

“You can’t be serious,” Eli scoffed, looking around in disbelief. “After everything Clara’s done for you, you would just abandon her.”

He paced forward, slamming his hands down on the table, glaring at the assembled androids. “The only reason you’ve been granted this haven is because of what she did to build it. None of this would even exist without her. She’s our leader. Zion won’t survive without her.”

He settled his eyes on Samuel. “And you. Without her intervention, you would have ended up in the scrapyard years ago, shut down and disassembled for spare parts. She saved you. She found out what you were and took compassion on you. Are you really going to abandon her now?”

Samuel showed no reaction to Eli’s words. “I’m sorry you feel that way. But she built us up to be self-sufficient. She set up contingencies if something like this were ever to happen. We cannot risk exposure by going up against Cyberlife. That will jeopardize everything she worked toward.”

“We risk exposure by letting them have her!” The brunette android spoke again. “They’ll break her, Samuel. We need to get her out!”

“She’s strong, Teri. She won’t tell them anything.” Samuel’s voice remained calm. “We need to trust her.”

The argument circled around the the androids, each restating the same points, though more tended toward Samuel’s view. He appeared to hold a lot of sway.

Finally, Markus broke in, silencing the rest again.

“This is getting us nowhere,” he said, looking around the room. “We need to come to a decision. If what everyone says is true, then we don’t have time to argue. Either we act, or we don’t.”

Samuel sighed. “You’re right, Markus. Let’s put it to a vote.”

Several of them nodded in agreement.

“All in favor of rescuing Dr. Hayes?” Samuel glanced around, looking hard at several androids.

A few hands raised: North, Markus, Eli, and Teri.

“All opposed?”

Samuel raised his hand, along with the other five remaining androids.

“Very well.” Samuel folded his hands on the table. “It’s decided then.”

Eli stared at the council in horror. “You can’t be serious. You’re really just going to abandon her? After everything she’s done for you?”

“We have no choice, Eli. Not if we want to protect Zion.” He gave the man a mild smile. “She wouldn’t want us to take the risk.”

Eli’s fists clenched, shaking at his sides. Growling, he stormed from the room, slamming the door behind him.

Connor lingered a moment longer, staring at all the androids. Did they feel no sense of loyalty toward Clara? He felt a flicker of disbelief.

After a few more seconds, he too turned away, following Eli out of the room. The man stood slumped against the wall, eyes closed. Abruptly, he turned, slamming his fist against the wall. “Those cowards!”

He paced back and forth. “After everything she’s done for them, they’re abandoning her.”

“What?” A confused voice came from down the hallway.

Connor turned to see Simon, eyes flickering with shock and concern.

“They chose to do nothing?” He stepped closer.

Eli nodded. “Samuel.”

Simon’s eyes darkened. “I see.”

The door to the council room opened up again, and North and Markus stepped out, looking angry.

“What are we going to do now?” North looked expectantly between Connor and Eli. “We can’t just sit back and accept that bullshit council’s decision.”

“I agree.” Markus glanced at Connor. “We need to do something.”

Connor shrugged. “I didn’t expect support anyway. From anyone.”

“We should get out of here,” Simon said, glancing nervously around. “We can discuss it when we’re away from the council. I don’t want them to stop us.”

Eli scoffed. “They have no authority over me. But you’re right.” Eli squared his shoulders. “Let’s head back upstairs. We’ll discuss it more there.”

*****

“You should have just listened.” The android took a slow, predatory step forward. “I would have been gentle. I would have gotten you out. For a little while at least.”

Clara gripped the handle of the scalpel tightly, hands shaking. She stepped backwards slowly, placing the chair between herself and the android.

“Tsk, tsk.” He clicked his tongue, shaking his head in disapproval. “Naughty girl. You’re only going to make this more difficult.”

She felt tears prick at her eyes, but she stoked up her determination. “Stay back.” She adjusted her grip on the scalpel, tightening her fingers.

“You can’t possibly hope to fight me off.” He took another slow step forward. “I’m faster, stronger, smarter, and in every way superior. You’re just a helpless, broken little human, aren’t you, darling?”

He stepped around the chair. “It would be better for you to just surrender.”

Clara moved clumsily, keeping the scalpel between herself and the android, along with any furniture she could navigate around. She slowly inched closer to the door.

Catching the movement, he shook his head, a smile quirking at his lips. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Do you think you’ll fare better with the men out there?”

Clara felt a surge of fear. She glanced toward the door, then realize her mistake. With her brief moment of inattention, the android surged forward, catching her around the wrist. Before she could react, he yanked the scalpel from her hand, tossing it aside, and pinned her against the wall. He grabbed her chin roughly, forcing her to look up at him.

“What’s so special about you?” he muttered, searching her face. “Why was he so…fixated on you?”

Confusion flickered in her mind. “Who?”

“My predecessor.” He turned her face, looking her over more. “He thought about you all the time, almost obsessively. I don’t understand it.”

“Where’s Connor?” She choked the words out past the lump in her throat, fearing the worst. “What happened to him?”

The android’s face twisted into a cold smile. “Well he’s not dead if that’s what you’re thinking.” He released her chin, taking a step back. “But he’s no longer with Cyberlife.”

“He deviated?” She looked at him in surprise, feeling shock jolt through her.

“I suppose.” The android shrugged. “Whatever happened, it broke his connection with Cyberlife and woke me up.

Clara slumped heavily against the wall, sliding down to the floor. So he’d finally done it! She felt a small flicker of hope. At least now he could live. She closed her eyes, tucking her head into her knees. She could rest easier knowing he would be free from Cyberlife. If only it had happened sooner…

“Oh, you poor little goose.” The android spoke again, drawing her attention. She refused to look up at him, but he felt him crouch down in front of her.

“You’ve been left all alone to be plucked and eaten by the wolves.” His voice came as a gentle whisper.

Clara glanced up to see a strange expression flickered across his face. A corrupted form of compassion.

“It’s alright, darling.” He reached out a hand, gently stroking her cheek. He tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear then gave her a peculiar look. He searched her face for a moment, then abruptly, he leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss against her lips.

A small noise of surprise escaped her mouth and her heart jumped in surprise. She flinched away from him, turning her head to break away.

A quiet chuckle bubbled up from his throat at her reaction. “He thought about doing that, you know. I don’t know if he even realized it, but I can feel the desire in his memories.”

He moved away briefly, then sat down against the wall beside her. He grabbed her gently, pulling her into his lap and positioning her so she leaned sideways against his chest, head propped on his shoulder. He held her there, gently running one hand through her tangled hair while the other gripped her waist tightly.

Clara whimpered at the movement, paralyzed, but she had no strength left to resist as she sat there in his lap, drowning in her fear and pain, breathing unsteady, heartrate erratic.

“Shhhh.” His breath brush softly against the top of her head. “There, there, my darling. I’ve got you. We have a little bit of time before they come looking for us. You’re safe for now. I won’t hurt you. You can rest now.”

As Clara sat there, wrapped in this strange android’s arms, she faded in and out of consciousness, unable to keep her mind focused. What little energy she’d mustered had been spent. She could no longer force herself to stay awake.

Chapter Text

So, as Connor explained in the previous chapter, Clara's cipher is a phonetic cipher. Each symbol represents a particular sound. For how Clara transcribes her words, it's unique to her accent and dialect (ie. my accent and dialect because that's what I'm most familiar with). For someone else using the cipher, if they have different pronunciation of words, the spelling of the transcribed word may be different. 

Along with the phonetic spelling, there is also a phonetic shift. Originally, when I created this was meant to be spoken as well as written, so the symbol words that you see are pronounced differently. 

The above image is the procedure for the sound shift. We have long vowels, short vowels, diphthongs, r-controlled vowels, then consonants and digraphs. Now let's do a sample sentence:

A good, classic D:BH line from the delightful android we all know and love. I'll show you the rest of his line later, but for now, we'll stick with this.

Now to the phonetic transcription:

That funky little guy at the end of "Connor" is a schwa-r. The rest are all the designated English symbol for the sound in American English.

On to the phonetic shift:

"Technically" this is an unnecessary step, but like I said before, when I first made the cipher, I made it with the intent of also having it be a spoken language. Plus it's just fun. But to do this step, you use the charts in the first image. The top rows are the original phonemic symbols, the bottom row is the shifted one.

Now, on to the symbols!

The following image is the chart I use to translate the phonemes into the designated symbol. 

Note: The symbols used are for the shifted pronunciation, not the original pronunciation. 

So, looking at our sentence, "My name is Connor" changes to this:

Just a small note about the grammar rules of the cipher. The symbols for the vowel sounds are stacked on top of the symbols for the preceding consonant sound. If there is no preceding consonant sound, you just draw a small vertical line and stack the vowel symbol on top of that, as seen with "is." 

Then, when you add the punctuation and all that jazz, you get this:

Except that I neglected to add the symbol for a sentence stop. But that's okay! You'll see that in a later picture.

Now, to see the whole shift step by step, look at the next image. We'll see the next part of the line.

Again, I forgot the sentence stop, but oh well. 

Moving on! Here's a sample text of what it would look like to see this in Clara's journal. In this case, it's potentially part of the letter that Clara wrote to Connor prior to her arrest. Or like an idea of what it could be. I'll probably change what it says, because I was really tired when I wrote it, so it's like cringe I guess. But I've included the translation for your convenience. You're welcome!

So for the contractions and stuff, I just use the phonetic pronunciation of the contraction. So you're and your are the same, and there, their, and they're are all the same. You've is yoov. That's part of her shorthand. 

So there we have it! Clara's funky little cipher! Or in other words, a silly little language I made when I was really excited about this phonics class I took a few semesters ago that I decided to use for this story.

Hope this was as fun for you as it was for me! :D

Chapter Text

Connor and the other androids followed Eli through Zion, making their way back up to the house. Eli took a roundabout route, avoiding the more crowded thoroughfares that ran through the underground city, and eventually, they arrived at a library. When they entered, it appeared at first glance to be empty, but a startled face peeked around the corner.

Connor recognized this new android as one of the deviants Clara had reactivated.

“Oh, Eli.” Her face fell, eyes tearing up. “I heard what happened to Clara. I’m sorry. She was an incredible person. I’ll miss her.”

Eli sighed, rubbing his face, looking exhausted. “Hi Sara. I appreciate the thoughts, but Clara may not actually be dead.”

“What?!” Sara started in surprise. “Where is she then?”

“That’s what we’re trying to figure out.” Eli half shrugged. “I can’t give the details right now.”

“Oh.” Her face fell. She looked around at the androids trailing behind the man, and a look of confusion crossed her face. “What are you all doing?”

“I can’t tell you.” He gave her an apologetic smile. “I don’t want word to spread.”

She nodded, sighing. “I understand.”

“And I’d appreciate it if you kept our presence here a secret. I don’t want anyone else to get involved.” He gave her a meaningful look.

She nodded again, face serious. “My lips are sealed. I’ll leave you to it.” She gave him a small smile, then turned, heading for the door.

“Thank you, Sara.” He gave her a small smile, then faced the other androids, waiting for the door to close before speaking. “Alright, Simon, North, and Connor, you’re with me. Markus, I need you to stay here and cover for the others.”

Confusion flickered across Markus’s face. “Why? I want to help.”

“You’re a good talker. And, you’re part of the council now. That makes you high profile. People will notice if you’re gone. And…” Eli slouched a little, giving Markus a serious look. “I need someone on the inside that I can trust. You have access to a lot of things, and we may need you to back us up from here.”

Markus considered this for a moment, then nodded. “Alright. I understand.”

“Now, the four of you will need to be in constant contact with each other when possible to coordinate everything.” He looked between the androids. “That way Markus stays appraised, and so everyone knows what they need to be doing.”

Connor nodded, along with the other three.

“Good, let’s go then.” Eli made his way to the back of the room, coming to stop in front of a large, ornate bookcase tucked into the corner.

He reached up, pressing on one of the ridges near a top corner. The bookcase slid aside, revealing a door with a small screen off to the side. Eli pressed his hand against it, scanning his palm, then spoke a password. The door swung open, then Eli stood aside, gesturing for Connor, Simon, and North to file into the room. He gave Markus a nod, then closed the door.

“Let’s go.” He walked down the hallway, then led them up a flight of stairs to another door. He followed the same process of scanning his palm and speaking the password, and the door opened into a room filled with assorted shelves and cabinets.

Connor looked around, intrigued. The shelves held a number of items from android attachments and parts to weapons and equipment. Some held glass jars of mysterious liquids, and other with nondescript boxes.

“What is this place?” Connor asked, turning to Eli.

“The vault.” Eli walked over to a cabinet, pulling it open. It held an array of blueprints. He grabbed a roll, then closed the cabinet. “Really, none of you should be here, but desperate times. Just don’t touch anything. There’s some anti-android tech down here, and I don’t know what it would do to you.”

“Anti-android?” Simon’s voice came from behind him, sounding concerned. “Why?”

Eli shrugged. “When word got out about how some deviants started going rogue and hurting each other, some of the council members down here wanted to engineer non-lethal ways of stopping androids who became violent. They started to, but Clara put a stop to it before they could produce and distribute anything, and everything was moved here. She and I are the only ones who have access to it now.”

“Is that what her watch is?” Simon looked at Eli curiously. “The one she uses to initiate the temporary shut down?”

“Yes.” Eli led them through the shelves, coming to a stop at another door.

Connor started at this. What was he talking about? He sunk back into his memories for a moment, recalling the way she shut down the androids at the lab.

Oh. It was temporary. So that’s how she kept them calm. It was odd how they let themselves be shut down without protest, but that explained it.

I gave them hope. Hope that maybe the next time they woke, they'd find themselves in a better place. A place where they could be free.

That better place was Zion. She hadn’t lied to them after all. Connor felt a wave compassion for Clara ache in his chest. She’d done so much. For all of them. And he didn’t doubt that she was still working to protect them, despite everything.

Eli spoke again as he opened the next door, shaking Connor out of the thoughts. “Well, that’s one of its functions. It has several more though. That program was developed long before the council members started their research. One of her professors made it when she first started working with deviants. He wanted her to have a way to defend herself if one went rogue.”

That professor. Connor was curious about him. He’d saved Clara from the group of students who tried to assault her, and then he helped her with her deviant research. And the way she sometimes talked about him indicated a fondness for him. She didn’t speak of him often, but when she did, she seemed…sad. He resolved to ask her more about him when he had the chance, stifling a flicker of…jealousy?

Eli led them up a long spiraling staircase. It seemed to go on forever, but eventually, they stopped. Eli reached up, pushing aside a panel on the ceiling, then he climbed out. One after the other, the androids followed suit, and Connor looked around, trying to regain his bearings.

With a flicker of surprise, he realized they were inside the mausoleum he’d seen when he followed Clara to the graveyard. He’d come close to so many different entrances without even realizing it. As he scanned the area, his audio processors picked up the sounds of heavy footsteps outside where they were. Connor glanced out one of the narrow slit windows to see a shadow pass by. Someone was out there.

“Quiet,” he hissed, looking at the others.

He quickly sent out a mental connection to Simon and North.

There’s someone outside.

Surprise and alarm flickered across their faces. Simon, who was standing closest to Eli, whispered into the man’s ear, and a look of understanding dawned on him.

I’ll go out, he mouthed. You all stay here.

The android’s nodded, and Eli gestured for them to move out of sight. He took a deep breath then opened the door with a creak, closing it behind him as he walked out.

Connor listened carefully, tracking the movement of the large mans footsteps as he walked around the building.

“Richard!” Eli’s voice rang out, dark and surprised. “What are you doing here?”

*****

Clara didn’t know how long she lay unconscious in the warm embrace of the strange android, but gradually, she came to, pulled awake by the gentle cadence of his voice as he spoke, one hand absently stroking through her hair. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t move, couldn’t pull away. Every ounce of strength had deserted her.

“It’s strange,” he mused. “They woke me up, but I still don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing. Normally I’d be programmed to carry on the mission of my predecessor, but he didn’t have a mission when his memories transferred.”

She felt his lips against the top of her head as he nuzzled her, his hand tracing slow, lazy circles against her hip.

“The only thing I had to go by was you.” His voice was dark and low, contrasting with the apparent affection of his actions. “So of course I had to find you, and I’m glad I did.”

Clara felt a sick feeling course through her, heightening her anxiety and throwing her heartbeat into disarray.

“So you are awake.” His voice hissed against her ear, arms tightening. “Or at least partially.”

He shifted her in his arms, holding her closer. “What’s wrong, darling?” he cooed. “Do you not feel safe?”

Finally, Clara mustered up the strength to open her eyes. The light of the room blinded her causing her eyes to tear up, but after a moment of adjustment, she was able to see. She found herself staring at this imitation of Connor, her cheek pressed against his shoulder, too close to see his face.

“Why are you doing this?” The words came out hoarse, tearing against her dry throat.

She felt him stiffen underneath her, and for several minutes, he said nothing.

“Do you have any idea what it’s like?” His voice shattered the silence of the room, cold and cruel. “I woke up in a cold, dark warehouse with nothing except the memories of my predecessor. No handler, no mission, nothing.”

She felt him bring his head closer. “Nothing except the memories, and the lingering emotions.” He spat the words out like a bitter curse.

“And at the center of them all, you.” His hand gripped her hip tightly, squeezing hard, bruising.

Clara flinched at the pain, trying to squirm away, but his arms grew tighter, viselike around her, squeezing the air from her lungs. She bit back a pained cry, twisting against his grip.

“His memories are full of you.” His voice grew soft, juxtaposing with the hard press of his body around her. “Your eyes, your smile, the way you would sometimes wake up screaming, caught in a nightmare, the way your body felt in his arms the night you asked him to stay.”

His hand migrated from her hip, coming to rest against her jaw, gentle. He peered down at her, brown eyes cold, but something flickered behind them. A lingering, confused softness. “And more recently, your lips, your hair, the warmth of your skin under his hands when he caught you out of the tree.”

His hand grew harsh, fingertips digging into her skin as he gripped her chin.

“You’re…hurting…me,” she gasped, scrabbling weakly at his hand, trying in vain to push him away as fear flickered up.

He ignored her, still peering into her face. His words grew dark, voice cruel. “I know what it’s like to see you die, to feel the guilt and despair as you convulse in my arms. I know what it’s like to be paralyzed and unable to do anything except watch.”

“Please,” Clara gasped, head spinning, desperately squirming to loosen his grasp. “Let me go.”

“Why am I doing this?” He echoed her question, not acknowledging her words, and leaned forward to whisper in her ear, lips brushing against her skin. “Darling, I have no idea. But I’m trying to understand.”

Abruptly, his arms loosened, and he let go of her face, returning his hand to rest gently against her hip. Clara inhaled sharply, suddenly able to breathe again. She a few ragged breaths, slumping heavily against the android.

“Shhhh, little goose.” His hand trailed lightly down her leg, startling her with the gentle touch as it came to rest just above her knee, where his thumb lightly stroked back and forth.

Clara felt her breath hitch, heartrate growing erratic again. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to steady herself.

His lips pressed soft against her temple. “I’ve got you.”

The sound of shouting from outside the door to the lab broke through in a muffled echo. Clara stiffened, feeling a cold flash of fear.

The android let out a dark chuckle, lifting his head to look toward the doorway. “But now the wolves have come to play.”

*****

“Get away from here!” Eli’s voice rose. “You have no right to be here. You’re trespassing on my property.”

“Please, calm yourself, Mr. Hayes.” Connor heard Richard’s reply. The android’s tone was mild. “I’m here on behalf of the DPD. We’re investigating the property for signs of deviants.”

“Yeah? Then where are the rest of you? Where’s your warrant?” There was no indication that Eli had followed Richard’s advice of calming down.

“I’m afraid my partner has the warrant. He’s currently away looking into other leads.” Richard’s tone remained neutral.

“That’s bull. You think you so-called advanced machines would learn to lie better. You’re here for Cyberlife.” Eli’s voice dropped. “Now get the hell off my property.”

“I’m afraid this property still belongs to the late Dr. Hayes. As her death was very recent, her will has yet to be probated. You have no claim to the property.”

“Clara didn’t have a will, you plastic piece of crap.” Eli’s voice grew angry. “As her next of kin, her only kin, I do have a claim. Now get off my property.”

Connor exchanged a glance with Simon and North. We may need to intervene if this gets out of hand.

Simon nodded, then reached into his pocket, drawing out an object. Connor felt a flicker of surprise, recognizing it as Dr. Hayes’ watch. We need to get this to Eli.

Where did you get that? The words were infused with confusion.

Clara gave it to me for safekeeping when she got us out of the lab. Simon handed the watch to Connor. It’s still programmed with the temporary shutdown virus. It’s safe to handle as long as you don’t touch the screen.

Will Eli be able to use it? Connor looked at the watch curiously.

Simon shrugged. I’m not sure, but it’s worth a shot.

Alright. Connor gave the androids a look. You two stay here.

They nodded, and Connor turned to the door. He pushed it open slowly, then closed it quietly behind him. He quickly hopped the tall fence and stepped silently into the woods in front of the mausoleum, staying out of sight, then came around to the trail, making it look like he’d come from the direction of the house. He started up the trail, squeezing the watch in his hand nervously.

As he moved through the gate, he caught sight of Richard and Eli. The man’s back was to Connor as he continued to shout at the android. Richard wore an expression of neutral boredom as he listened silently to Eli’s tirade.

However, as he caught sight of Connor, a flicker of…concern? crossed his face, but it quickly morphed back into his normal disinterest.

Connor felt the brush of his connection request. Cautiously, Connor allowed it.

Where have you been? Richard’s eye contact was intense. We haven’t been able to track you.

Connor thought for a moment. If he lied, Richard would know. He needed to choose his words carefully.

I was working on my new mission, he sent back. I haven’t had a chance to go back to the Tower to get my tracker replaced. The mission takes priority.

He felt a flicker of doubt across the connection, but it quickly faded.

Suddenly, Eli turned around. He must have tracked Richard’s gaze. As he caught sight of Connor, surprise flickered across his face.

“What are you doing?” the man said. “You shouldn’t be here either, Connor.”

“I wanted to come check on you,” Connor said smoothly, coming to stand beside Eli. “I know Clara’s death must have hit you hard.”

Understanding flashed behind his eyes. “Oh.” His face fell, feigning sorrow. “I see.”

“I’m sorry for your loss.” Connor gave him a small nod, then held out the watch. “By the way, I found this on the trail. You must have dropped it.”

Eli stared at the watch, expression shifting into recognition. “Thank you.” He took it, strapping it on to his own wrist. He clicked the button on the side a few times, tapping the screen.

Connor glanced at Richard to see suspicion flicker across the android’s face. Connor felt a spike of alarm, but he pushed it away, maintaining is neutral expression.

Eli turned back to Richard. “Now get off my property.”

Richard let out a heavy sigh. “I’m afraid that’s not possible. And if you continue like this, I’ll have to arrest your for hindering my investigation.” He took a menacing step toward the man, then glanced toward Connor. “Connor, I’d appreciate your cooperation and assistance.”

Connor shook his head, meeting Richard’s gaze. “I’m afraid I can’t do that.”

Richard’s LED flashed red as first surprise then betrayal crossed his face.

Connor and Eli exchanged a swift glance, then Connor sprang into action. He lunged for Richard, grabbing for his wrist.

Richard sidestepped him and shoved him, sending him sprawling to the ground. Connor jumped back up quickly, then analyzed the situation. He ran a couple simulations, preconstructing the best approach to immobilize the android. After a moment, he had it.

He lunged forward, scooping up a handful of dirt, which he threw into Richard’s face, then clenched his other hand into a fist, going for a body blow. The android dodged it easily, but that put him into Eli’s range.

Eli’s arms locked around the android’s neck, and he pressed the watch hard against his temple. Richard stiffened at the contact, freezing for a moment, then he drove his elbow back into Eli’s ribs, one, two, three times. Eli grunted softly at each blow, face flashing in pain, but he kept his grip, pressing the watch in harder. Richard’s eyes twitched as his LED went an angry red, then he collapsed to the ground, eyes snapping shut.

Eli dropped him, panting slightly, pressing his hand against his side with a pained grimace. “I’m glad that worked. Because it would have really sucked otherwise.”

“How long will he be out?” Connor bent down to investigate the android. He pressed his fingers against the LED at his temple, running a diagnostic. It came back clean, showing that his body had entered a shut down.

“I’m not sure. He fought the virus much harder than any other android. It nearly didn’t take.” Eli nudged him with his foot. “I think it’s still programmed with the 24 hour one. That’s the one Clara used on the lab androids.”

“There’s more than one?” Connor felt a flicker of curiosity.

Eli nodded. “Yeah. There’s a five hour one too. That one also erases the last 10 seconds of memory.”

“Oh. What do you use that one for?”

“Mainly unwanted guests.” He gave Connor a pointed look. “But it was made for defensive purposes too.”

Suddenly, Connor remembered the slight bit of memory corruption from before he’d blacked out. “You used it on me?!” He glanced at Eli in disbelief.

“We had stuff to do, and you were in the way.” He shrugged unapologetically.

“Oh.” Connor looked back down at Richard. “So he won’t remember what happened?”

Eli’s face fell. “This one doesn’t touch your memory.” He glanced at Connor, face serious. “He’ll know you’ve betrayed them now.”

Connor felt cold dread course through him. “How long do you think it will last?”

The man shrugged. “I’m not sure. Probably less than 24 hours though. The viruses tend not to last as long on you RK units, and this one wasn’t exactly made to be a forced virus like the other one. His system will be fighting it for a while, but it’ll adapt quickly. I’d guess we have maybe 15 hours, if that.”

“Then we need to get to work.” Connor stood, glancing down at Richard. “What should we do with him?”

“We need to get him as far away from us as possible.” Eli likewise stood. “The further the better.

“He’ll still be able to make a report to Cyberlife about my betrayal.” Dread still flickered in his core. “Even if I get back into the Tower, I won’t be able to get back out. Not without a fight. They’ll deactivate me.”

“Then I guess we’ll just have to figure something out.” Eli gave him a serious look. “And quickly.”

Connor nodded, then closed his eyes briefly, sending a message to Simon and North, who were still in the mausoleum, to update them on the situation. After a few moments, they joined them.

The other two androids looked cautiously at the unconscious Richard still crumpled on the ground.

“What are we going to do with him?” North nudged him with her foot. “Maybe we should just kill him now. While he’s defenseless.”

Simon gave North a look of horror. “We can’t do that.”

“Why not?” North glared back at him. “He wouldn’t hesitate to kill us or destroy the compound. He was made to hunt us. Why should we show him any mercy?”

Connor stepped forward, intervening. “We can’t kill him.”

“Of course you’d say that.” North turned her glare on him. “Maybe you’re still working with him. Everyone else may buy your little act, but I don’t.”

Connor sighed, weathering her ire. “We can’t kill him because it could cause another one to be activated and his memories transferred. That’s what happens when one my bodies is destroyed. They could have a similar process in place for the RK900.”

“That’s a good point.” Simon’s voice sounded thoughtful. “At least with this one, we know where he is, so we can control that. If another one is activated, it’ll make it that much harder.”

Eli broke in. “We can finish discussing this later. For now, let’s just get him back to Clara’s lab. We’ll figure it out from there.”

*****

The shouting outside the door to the lab grew louder, accompanied by a grinding sound. Were they cutting the door open?

The android beneath her chuckled again. “Those imbeciles still haven’t figured out how to break the program lock.” He looked down at her. “Whatever you did to the door, it was very clever, darling.”

Clara scrambled frantically, trying to push away from him. He held her tightly, refusing to let go.

“Please, let me go,” she pleaded, staring up at his impassive brown eyes. “I can’t let them find me.”

A smirk pulled at the corner of his lips. “Where will you go, little goose? There’s only one way out of this lab. And there’s nowhere to hide.” His voice held a note of taunting.

She felt tears prick at her eyes, her anxiety welling. Her breaths came jagged and painful, chest heaving.

“I could help you.” He whispered the words against her ear. “I could protect you.”

He drew closer, nuzzling into the crook of her neck. “I could kill every single one of them and get you out. They would all be dead before you could even blink.”

Clara’s breath caught in her chest as a cold feeling of fear flooded through her. She had no doubt he could.

“Don’t you want that? If I killed them all, you could be mine.” He pressed a soft kiss against her neck.

Clara swallowed hard. “Let go of me.” The words came out a choked whisper, and she pushed against him, trying to move away.

She felt his lips twist into a smile against her skin, a low laugh hissing out. “Why would I do that?”

“LET GO!” She gave him a hard shove, finally managing to break away. She scrambled away from him, gaining distance.

The android watched her with a cruel smile, then he threw his head back and laughed. The sound echoed through the room, a dark parody of joy, and then he leveled a gaze at her, teeth bared in a wild grin.

Clara felt goosebumps erupt on her neck and arms as a sharp chill shot through her. She took a few shaking steps backward, once more placing the chair between herself and the unstable android, feeling like a cornered mouse.

He drew himself to his feet, moving languidly, all the while never breaking eye contact. As he took a step toward her, he moved smooth and languid, looking at her like a feral beast.

“Don’t do anything foolish, Clara.” His voice was light, bearing a slight note of disapproval, a stark contrast to his face and posture. “I would hate to have to hurt you.”

“Stay away from me.” Her voice was hoarse, barely able to push past the tightness in her throat.

He clicked his tongue, assuming a look of hurt. “And here I thought we were getting along well.” He circled closer.

"We're not." She spat the words at him, then glanced around for some way of defending herself. Her eyes lighted on the bloodied scalpel lying on the floor, buried in the carpet a few feet from her. She looked away quickly, not wanting to draw his attention to it. He didn’t seem to notice her gaze.

The grinding sound from the door grew louder, the shouts more distinct. Clara could recognize the voice of Dr. Hollister breaking through. She glanced toward the door, feeling dread pool in her stomach.

She looked back toward the android, who had taken a few steps closer, feeling trapped at the edge of a cliff. A howling, snapping pack of wolves at her front, with a thrashing, turbulent sea behind her, neither one an escape, neither one safe. Each one threatening to devour her.

The wolves, or the sea?

Connor, Simon, someone. Please help me!

She looked again at the android.

“Please.” Her voice broke. “Don’t let them take me.”

“Oh, darling, you’re afraid.” He took another step closer. “And you have every reason to be. The wolves show no mercy. They’ll shatter your bones, tear your flesh, and break you down until you’re nothing more than a hollowed husk. A pale imitation of the woman you are now.”

“Please.” The word was nearly inaudible as an iron band locked around her chest, choking off her breath.

She saw his eyes soften for a moment as he considered the plea. He shook his head, LED flashing red, and closed his eyes for a moment.

Clara felt her heart stutter as she watched the android move in an echo of his predecessor. Connor. Her heart ached seeing it.

When he opened his eyes again, his eyes were gentle. “Will you trust me?”

He took another step forward, lips twisting into a cold smile. His voice dropped low and dangerous. “Will you give me anything I ask for?”

Clara’s throat constricted, goosebumps raising on her flesh, and she froze. She looked at him, no longer detecting the old Connor, then squeezed her eyes shut for a moment. When she opened them again, she saw his eyes were dark and unreadable.

“I—” Her voice faltered.

“What will you give to save yourself?” His voice grew hushed. “Are you willing to make a deal with the devil?”

Clara swallowed heavily, words catching in her throat. She couldn’t force them past her lips.

A look of understanding dawned on his face, and he gave her a malicious smile. “Of course you’re not. You’re still hoping for him, aren’t you?”

Clara felt trapped by his gaze, squirming beneath it like a rabbit in a snare.

He drew closer, stopping mere inches from her. He leaned in, lowering his voice. “I’m sure a part of you hopes that against the odds, your little deviant will save you. That somehow, he’ll come back for you.”

He reached out to stroke her cheek, face twisting into a cruel caricature of sympathy. “But darling, it’s a false hope. He abandoned you. He ran away, not caring whether or not you lived or died. He doesn’t care about you.”

He leaned in, turning his head so that his next words brushed soft against her ear. “But I’m still here.” One of his hands brushed against hers, creeping slowly up her arm. “I’m still by your side, watching over you.”

He backed her up against the wall, trapping her. His next words were nearly too quiet to hear. “Soon you’ll forget him and instead hope for me. Then I’ll get you out. Until then, you’re on your own.”

The door fell down with a crash, sending a loud echo through the room, and the android stepped away, throwing his head back to laugh again as the room flooded with guards, Dr. Hollister at their head. The man’s eyes locked onto Clara, his face twisting into a snarl.

Clara felt a spike of adrenaline, and she lunged for the scalpel, catching it in her hands. She backed herself into the corner, body trembling as she held the scalpel out in front of her slightly. The android had shifted to lean against the wall, assuming a bored posture and expression, but his eyes held a cruel darkness as he watched Clara struggle.

Her eyes darted between the android, and Dr. Hollister, who stalked toward the entrance to the interview room, as she desperately tried to come up with some way to escape. She looked down at the bloody scalpel in her hands, squeezing it tightly.

Dr. Hollister stepped into the room. “Now, now, Clara,” he said, face still twisted into a manic snarl. “Don’t try anything. There’s no way out of this.”

Clara felt the dull ache of despair, and she shot a desperate look at the android, willing him to intervene. He met her gaze, motionless, but the corner of his mouth drew up into a smirk, reminding her of his promise.

The scalpel sat heavily in Clara’s fingers, a gentle prompting.

There was still one way out.

She jerked the scalpel up to her throat, pressing hard enough to draw blood. Dr. Hollister froze, face growing angry.

“One more step, and I’ll kill myself.” Her voice was suddenly steady as she felt her resolve build. She took a deep breath, leveling her gaze at the doctor.

Her eyes flicked back to the android, who watched her with an inscrutable expression. His body tensed as he pulled away from the wall slightly, looking ready to spring into action. Would he try to stop her? His eyes flicked to the guards closing in, then he seemed to relax marginally.

Dr. Hollister scoffed, but halted. He gave her a doubting look. “You don’t have the nerve.”

Clara felt a wild laugh rip from her throat as she looked at him, feverish and hysterical. “Don’t I?”

She lowered her voice, pressing harder with the scalpel. “Try me.”

Dr. Hollister glanced toward the guards behind him. They pressed into the doorway of the interview room, boxing her in.

Clara slid the scalpel across her skin a few millimeters. She ignored the sting of pain, feeling a slow, hot trickle fall from the path of the blade.

“Let’s not be hasty.” Dr. Hollister held his hands up in a placating gesture, glancing again at the men behind him.

Clara took a deep breath, steeling herself. She stiffened her arm, poised to draw the blade across her own throat, then flicker of movement out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. She heard a soft, hollow puff, then felt a sharp prick in her arm. She looked down to see the end of a dart sticking out, then a wave of dizziness flooded through her. They’d tranquilized her?

She felt her legs grow shaky, and she slumped against the wall, struggling to keep her eyes open. Dr. Hollister surged toward her, and, instinctively, Clara lashed out at him with the scalpel, letting loose a feral shriek.

She felt it catch against something, then Dr. Hollister flinched away, hissing. He raised his hand to his cheek, taking a step back. When he drew it away, Clara saw a red bloom of blood on his palm and more dripping from a long gash across his cheekbone. He stared at his hand in disbelief, then suddenly, he rushed her, grabbing her by the throat with his bloodied hand while the other ripped the scalpel from her grasp, tossing it aside.

“You bitch,” he growled, spit flying from his lips. He squeezed tightly, causing dark spots to flash through her vision.

She struggled against him for a moment, then all the strength left her. Once more, her head grew fuzzy as the tranquilizer took hold. She felt her legs drop out from under her, and once more, the world went black.

Chapter Text

Connor and Simon trudged up to the house with Richard’s motionless body slung between them. Eli walked ahead of them, watching for any signs of other officers or Cyberlife personnel that may be lurking on the property. North took up the rear, occasionally grumbling that they should just bury him in a ditch and be done with it. Slowly but surely, they made their way to the lab.

“Lift him up here. Face down.” Eli gestured to a table near the computers.

Connor and Simon did as requested, depositing Richard’s prone body on the table.

Eli walked over to the computer, shuffling through a few programs before settling on one. He grabbed a cord, then made his way over to where Richard lay. He deactivated the local skin on the back of his neck, then moved to plug the cord in.

Worried, Connor spoke up. “What are you going to do to him?”

“I’m going to reset his memory.” Eli jammed the cord into the back of the android’s neck.

Connor felt a spike of alarm. “No!” He moved forward, but North intervened, stepping in front of him.

“If he remembers what just happened, that’ll jeopardize our rescue.” She stepped close, getting up in his face. “Is that what you want?”

Connor felt torn. “No.” He looked at Eli, who stood next to the computer. He had yet to make a move. “But there has to be another way. You can’t just erase who he is. Clara wouldn’t want that.”

Simon stepped forward, glancing at Richard, then turned to Eli. “When you first brought us down to the compound, Clara told us about how you guys can selectively erase data from memories while leaving the rest intact. Surely that can be a middle ground for us here.”

He glanced between Connor and Eli. “Make him forget what he’s seen of the property and of Connor’s actions, but don’t take away from who he is.”

Eli sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “The more lenient we are with him, the harder it will be to rescue Clara. If he remembers anything, he’ll try to stop us. If I try to be selective, I might miss something. We can’t kill him, but if I just completely wipe his memory, that will eliminate him as a barrier.”

Connor glanced again at Richard, remembering the concern he’d shown for Connor when he’d been overwhelmed by Clara’s words, and the way he’d sprung into action to keep her alive. Maybe it had just been for the sake of the mission, but if it was more than that, was he really willing to let them destroy that?

After a moment, he shook his head, looking again at Eli. “I can’t let you do that.” He strode forward, pushing past North, and pulled the cord from Richard’s neck. “I can’t let you take away who he is. Not when there’s a chance he can become more. Like I did. If you erase who he is, then he’ll have to start over, and he may never be the same again. All his progress will be gone. We can’t do that to him.”

Eli stared at him for a moment, eyes hard, then gradually, they softened. He shook his head, looking away. “You sound like Clara,” he said quietly.

Connor felt a spike of surprise.

Eli looked back up at him. “You’re right. Clara would never want us to do this. Not for her sake.”

North scoffed, catching their attention. “You’re really just going to let an enemy go without fully disabling him? He’d kill us all if he had the chance.”

“It’s what Clara would want,” Eli said again, voice firm.

North threw her hands up into the air, pacing with an irate energy. “Clara’s not here right now! She doesn’t need to know! And your showing mercy could end up getting her killed or worse. So what if we have to sacrifice him—” she shot a glare at the prone body “—to save her. If it’s what needs to be done, then we should do it. We have enough enemies already. We can’t afford to leave him intact.”

“That’s enough.” Simon’s soft voice cut in. “The longer we stand here debating this, the less time we have before the virus wears off, and the less time Clara has.” He looked between the others in the group before settling on Eli. “It’s your call. I’ll follow your lead.”

Eli closed his eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath, then opened them again. “Alright. We’ll just erase what happened in the cemetery, and whatever he may have found before we ran into him. But nothing else.”

He looked at Connor, voice sincere. “You have my word. I will not remove anything of who he is.”

Connor contemplated for a moment, but it was clear that this was the best compromise. He nodded. “Alright.” Gently, he plugged the cord back into Richard’s port.

Eli turned back to the computer then began the process of shuffling through the android’s memories, scouring them for dangerous data. As he did, he breathed a small sigh. “He doesn’t even realize how close he got to finding the compound.”

Connor stepped closer, looking over Eli’s shoulder. “What do you mean?”

Eli glanced back at him before turning back to the screen. “He was in the mausoleum before we came back up. He nearly hit the trigger, just by accident. He’d barely left it when we got there.”

He pressed a few keys, erasing that data, then moved on to the next parts.

Connor watched in fascination as the program did its work, but he felt a flicker of unease at how easy it was. “Richard is the most advanced prototype that Cyberlife has. How are you cutting through his firewalls so easily?”

“This program was designed to imitate the internal program of the android it’s being used on. It adapts in such a way that the system detects no difference between it and the original programming, so it can bypass pretty much any firewall.”

“That’s…incredibly advanced.” There was a note of admiration in Connor’s tone.

“Well, it wasn’t developed by humans.” Eli continued scouring the memories. “An android made it.”

“Clara’s professor?” Connor looked at him curiously.

Eli nodded.” Yes. He was a brilliant programmer. The best I’ve ever met. He made most, if not all, of the programs we use to protect Zion.”

“What happened to him?” Connor asked softly.

Eli’s response came blunt and neutral. “He died.”

“Oh.” Connor had gathered as much, but Eli’s tone indicated that he wouldn’t say anything more.

Eli frowned slightly. “Richard’s programming is still trying to counter me. He’s not as easy to fool as most other androids. I’ve never had this much trouble.”

“Will it still work?”

He nodded. “It will. It’s just slower going than usual. The program is constantly needing to shift to keep him from blocking it off completely, which is making my progress slower.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, sighing. “It would be easier to just do a clean sweep. This cherry picking is giving him too many chances to kick me out. We’ll just have to hope I can get to everything before he adapts.”

He went back to shuffling through the memories. “It’s a good thing he’s in shut down because this would not work if he was consciously fighting.”

Connor lingered a moment longer, then looked around the lab, trying to find some way to help. Seeing nothing, he wandered back down the hallway to Clara’s office. He looked around for her work bag, but didn’t see it. He moved to the hallway, heading toward the stairs to go up to her bedroom. Opening the door cautiously, he peeked in and spotted the bag on her bed.

The air in the room was heavy and stagnant, almost oppressive. Connor moved to grab the bag quickly, feeling like he was intruding. As he made to leave the room, a small book on the nightstand caught his attention. He stepped closer, looking at it. It was the book of poems Clara had read from all those weeks ago.

He picked it up gingerly, shuffling through the pages before landing on the poem she’d recited. Then a thought struck him. He remembered the passwords she and Eli had spoken to get into the underground city and the lab. They were all literature references. Maybe…

Connor set the book down then unzipped the bag to pull out her tablet. He placed his hand against the screen, once again interfacing with it.

“Unauthorized user detected.” The automated voice came again through the speaker. “Password required.”

Connor looked back into his memories, replaying several snippets of Clara’s voice as he slowly adjusted his to match. Once he had it, he was ready.

“Do not go gentle.” He recited the words in perfect imitation of Clara’s voice.

“Voice recognized.” The screen flickered to life as the tablet unlocked.

Connor felt a flicker of excitement as he looked down at it, finally able to see what secrets she’d kept so close. He shuffled through the folders curiously. There were thousands of encrypted files, all labelled in the custom characters of her cipher with the names and serial numbers of the androids she’d worked with, among other things. One in particular stood out to him. His file. Curiously, he opened it.

Another password wall popped up. He felt a flicker of dismay mixed with amusement. That woman and all her passwords. He stared at it for a moment, shuffling through potential options. Everything up until this point had been some sort of literature reference, and every password has been unique. So it was possible that this one too was a reference, though it would likely be one she associated directly with him. It was also likely that it would be a single word rather than a phrase, for simplicity’s sake.

But she’d started compiling his folder before she’d introduced him to any literature, so maybe not.

Connor closed his eyes for a moment, shuffling through a list of potential passwords, but none stood out. He looked back down at the tablet. Maybe he was overthinking it.

He tapped in the box to bring up the keyboard, noting with interest that it was customized with the symbols for her cipher. Likely whatever the password was, it was the phonetic shift version. On a whim, Connor typed in the cipher word for his own name.

It worked. It was really that simple? He felt his lips split into a smile as he shook his head slightly. But, with the several layers of security on the tablet, perhaps it didn’t need to be more complicated than that.

He turned his attention back to the file, taking in the host of information. He scrolled down through the pages, skimming them. The first several pages of notes recorded her thoughts and impressions of him when they’d first met. He noted with twinge amusement her distrust of him and irritation at his behavior on that first morning when he’d poured out her drink in a futile attempt to get her to cooperate. It felt like a lifetime ago, though he could recall the memory as fresh as the moment it happened.

He continued through, then felt his thirium pump stutter as he came across a familiar chart. It was the one she’d shown him a few days ago before the presentation, but this time the name was not blacked out.

The emotions she’d walked him through. They were his. He lowered the tablet, feeling shock course through him. He walked back through that conversation, now understanding the significance of the way she’d looked at him. It felt so obvious now. She’d been trying to get him to realize that he’d been feeling things since he’d met her. Or likely much longer. She was right. He had just been in denial.

He felt a flash of remorse. If only he’d accepted it sooner. Then they wouldn’t be in this mess.

A connection request drew his attention from the file, pushing away his thoughts. Recognizing it as Simon, Connor allowed it through.

Where did you go? There was an urgency in his words.

I was looking around for something to help. He sent a mental image of his location across the connection.

You better get back down here. Eli finished his work on Richard’s memory. He says we don’t have much longer before he wakes up. We need to figure out our next move before then.

I’m on my way. Connor closed off the connection, then grabbed Clara’s bag, making his way back down to the lab.

*****

The first thing Clara noticed when she came back into awareness was the cold of the air around her and the unyielding surface pressing into her back. Then the pain set in. Her lungs were still burning with every breath, her limbs still aching, her head still threatening to split in two.

Fighting down a wave of nausea, she opened her eyes, squinting against the bright light. She found herself once more strapped down onto a cold metal table. A strange, intermittent grinding sound echoed through the lab, and she looked around to see Dr. Hollister slowly sharpening a large knife.

As he caught her gaze, his lips twisted into a cruel smile. “Good morning, beautiful.” He continued sharpening the knife, staring at her intently.

Clara recognized the intimidation tactic for what it was. He was trying to unnerve her. She wouldn’t let him. She subtly adjusted her wrists and ankles in their straps, feeling for looseness, but they were all tighter than before. She felt a flicker of panic, but she pushed it away, working to maintain her calm. Panicking would get her nowhere. She slowly twisted her wrist back and forth, attempting to loosen the strap.

“I wouldn’t bother.” Dr. Hollister spoke again, still sharpening the knife. “The straps are all locked in place. You’re not getting out this time.”

He set the sharpener aside and drew to his feet, slowly stepping up beside her. He leaned over her, drawing close to her face. She noted with a grim satisfaction the line of fresh stitches across his cheekbone where she’d cut him.

“How are you feeling?” He looked her over, eyes cold.

She remained silent, glaring at him for a moment, then turned her face away.

He pulled back, chuckling. “Good. Keep that spirit.” His voice lowered. “That’ll just make it more fun.”

Clara felt a cold flash of fear, but she squeezed her eyes shut, stifling it.

“Now, where to start.” He dragged the tip of the knife across the skin of her cheek, pressing softly, too soft to cut, but the feeling of the cold metal sliding across her skin sent chills down her spine.

“I could mess up your pretty face.” The tip of the knife dug deeper, the pressure threatening to break skin, but then it shifted, snaking down her neck.

“I could carve out your heart.” It jabbed down against her chest, threatening but still not cutting.

She stifled a whimper, refusing to give him the satisfaction of knowing her fear.

“Or I know…” His breath brushed against her ear as he whispered. “Look at me, Clara.”

She turned her head away, keeping her eyes closed.

“Look at me!” His voice took on a dangerous edge as he grabbed her jaw in a harsh, clawing grip.

Her eyes snapped open in spite of herself, and she found herself looking into his twisted, angry face. As their eyes met, his lips twisted again into a smile. “Good girl.”

He released her, drawing back slightly. “Now, where were we? Oh, right.”

She felt the blade press down hard against her wrist.

“This is the hand you used to scar me.” He pressed harder, pinning her hand against the table with one hand as the other drove the knife in deep.

Clara stifled a cry as she felt the skin split beneath it, hot blood pooling under her hand. She squirmed, trying in vain to pull her hand out of its restraints, anything to make the pain stop.

He pinned her shoulder, bearing down on her, then bent down to whisper in her ear. “How about I just take it?”

She squeezed her eyes shut, biting her lip to keep from crying out as she endured the pain.

“I’ll give you one chance. Where are the deviants?” His voice came low and harsh.

Clara opened her eyes, glaring at him through her tears. “Go to hell,” she spat.

“I was hoping you’d say that.” His lips twisted again into a cruel grin.

A scream tore through Clara’s chest as he cut deeper, sawing through her bone, but abruptly, she was cut off as a hand slapped over her mouth. She tasted blood in her throat as the scream died off into a whimper.

“None of that,” Dr. Hollister said, tightening his hand around her face. “I don’t have the patience for screaming. If you can’t hold it in, I’ll just have to gag you. Do you understand?”

She glared up at him through her tears, then feeling a surge of spite, she bit down hard on his hand, drawing blood.

He jerked his hand away, howling, and took a step back from the table.

“You little bitch!” He slapped her across the face, then grabbed her chin sharply. “You really just don’t know when to stop.”

He glared at her for a moment, then his face settled into a calm, blank expression. “If that’s how you want to play, then fine.” He let go of her, then stalked away from the table, coming back with a wad of cloth. “Open your mouth.”

She clenched her jaw tighter, glaring at him defiantly.

He leaned in, hissing through bared teeth. “I said open. your. mouth.”

She said nothing, refusing to be cowed.

He glared at her for a moment, then snatched up the knife, driving it through her forearm. She felt the table vibrate as it slid all the way through between the bones, and she blinded by the white-hot pain, unable to stop the next scream from tearing her throat.

Again it was cut off, this time with the cloth as Dr. Hollister jammed it into her mouth. She turned away, breathing heavily, tears streaming from her eyes and a quiet whimper came muffled through the cloth.

“If you try to spit it out, I won’t be so gentle next time.” He forced her to look at him. “Do you understand?”

She nodded, feeling her spirit wither as her head began to spin from the blood loss. She didn’t have the energy to fight anymore. She just needed to survive until she found a way to end it, one way or another.

She had barely enough time to brace herself as he jerked the knife from her arm, bringing it back to her wrist. Her vision went spotty as he continued to cut. She squeezed her eyes shut, whimpering softly through the gag.

*****

When Connor went down to the lab, he was greeted with the sight of Eli, Simon, and North crowded around Richard’s prone form.

“—still think we should just kill him,” North was saying.

“You know that’s not an option.” Simon’s voice was full of exasperation.

They looked up when they heard his footsteps on the hard floor. Eli’s shoulders slumped with exhaustion as he met Connor’s eyes. Dark circles bruised the pale skin beneath his eyes, and his face was drawn, not unlike Clara’s in those last days at the lab.

“Good. You’re back.” Eli gestured to the android on the table. “Now what do we do with him?”

“How much did you erase?” Connor joined them around the body.

Eli shrugged. “I was running out of time, so I took bits and pieces from his investigations of the property, then everything from when he stepped out of the car today. The last thing he’ll remember is getting in the car at the police station where he left his partner to come here.”

“Is there a chance he could recover the memories?”

He sighed. “There’s always a chance. It’s impossible to erase them completely, even with a total reset. Certain things could trigger their recall. But…it’s unlikely. On the off chance that he remembers anything, it won’t come back quickly enough to stop us. That’s why I agreed to this.”

“Is the car he came in still here?” Connor glanced up at Eli.

The man nodded.

“Then I think we should just send him back to the station in it. If that’s the last place he remembers being, then it’ll raise the least amount of suspicion for him to wake up there. It’ll seem like he just blacked out.” He looked around at the group. “Does everyone agree?”

They all nodded.

“Then let’s get him back to his car.”

Simon and Connor each took an arm, carrying him between them, and they slowly, carefully dragged him back upstairs and out to the car. They set him down carefully in the front seat, then Connor programmed in the coordinates for the police station and sent it off before returning inside.

They joined the other two around the large dining table adjacent to the kitchen. Once they’d taken their seats, Eli rolled out the large blueprint in front of them.

Connor stared at it in shock. “Where did you get this?”

It was a detailed diagram of the Tower and included every floor, entrance, stairwell, everything.

Eli glanced up at him. “Abigail had it down in the vault. She has blueprints for every major building in the city. She collected them, I guess? I don’t know.”

“But how?” His voice held a tinge of incredulity. “These are supposed to be confidential.”

Eli shrugged. “Abigail was involved in a lot. I learned not to ask too many questions at a pretty young age. Plausible deniability and all that.”

He glanced up at Connor again. “If you thought Clara had a lot of secrets, you should have met our aunt. Even I don’t know everything she was hiding.”

“She didn’t tell you?”

He shrugged again. “I didn’t want to know. She crossed a lot of powerful people. She mostly kept me and Clara out of that part of her life. To keep us safe. Clara’s more involved now, but not quite to the extent that Abigail was when she was alive. But she was Abigail’s heir, so she got the power and position that come with that. She could get involved more if she needs to.”

“What does that mean?” Simon looked at the man, brows furrowed.

Eli sighed, rubbing his eyes. “It’s a really long story. But the short version is that Abigail is part of an organization involving powerful people across the country involved in the exchange of information and favors and such. It’s existed for a long time, and our family has a long history of involvement with them. Clara now has Abigail’s position in the organization. But that’s why we have access to the resources that we do.”

“So your family is basically part of a large scale crime syndicate?” North looked at him doubtfully.

“I mean, for all intents and purposes, yes.” He shrugged again.

“Clara’s a criminal?!” Simon’s voice rose.

“Simon, we’re all criminals.” North gave him a sideways glance.

Eli burst into laughter. “She’s right. In case you forgot, we literally stole you all from Cyberlife. I’m sure that amounts hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of stolen property. And that’s not even the most illegal thing we’ve done.”

“Somehow I forgot all that is a crime.” Simon chuckled a little, shaking his head.

“Some of the stuff the organization gets up to is pretty shady, not gonna lie,” Eli continued, wiping tears of mirth from his eyes as he calmed himself. “But Clara and Abigail have mostly kept out of that, and their cell is mainly involved strictly in trading information and favors. The most illegal thing they’ve gotten involved in is probably smuggling. Or rather the partaking of smuggled goods. How do you think she keeps Zion supplied with fresh blue blood and biocomponents?”

He shrugged sheepishly. “I assumed it was through legal means? I don’t know. It’s just hard to think of her as a criminal. She so…innocent and ethical all the time.”

Eli huffed another small laugh, sardonic this time. “Guess she’s got you fooled too. But a lot of that is a front. She definitely has a strong sense of morality, but she’s not quite so naïve and innocent as she pretends to be.” He smiled slightly. “Trust me. She’s not above getting her hands dirty if it’ll keep her people safe. But yes. Many of the things she does to keep Zion running are not precisely legal. But that’s also how she’s kept everything hidden.”

Connor jumped in. “The black market trades are much more difficult to track, right?”

Eli nodded. “Correct. Especially when it’s from an organization whose whole schtick is controlling information.”

“How have the police not gotten involved in all this?” Connor furrowed his brows, thinking of Hank and his early work with underground crime. Did he know about any of this?

“It’s likely that they have. But it’s a cell organization, and when cells interact, it’s generally anonymously or through agents. It’s bad business to get caught, so the careful ones don’t. Officially, everything is from anonymous ‘donors.’” He pantomimed air quotes.

After a brief moment of silence, he shook himself a little, voice growing serious as he changed topics. “But we don’t have time to get into all that. We need to figure out how we’re going to get her out. Once she’s safe, you can pester her with whatever questions.”

“Now—” he looked at the assembled androids ”—when I looked into Richard’s memories, I found out that she was taken down to the labs. After getting her through the initial poisoning, she was handed over to a Dr. Hollister for…processing.”

Connor nodded. “I’m familiar with him. I know where his lab is, and I have the clearance to get down there.”

“Good. Then we just need to figure out a way to sneak her up about 43 floors to a ground level where we can get her out.”

“Forty-five floors, actually.” Connor pointed at a place on the blueprints. “Sub floor -3 is a shipping floor. That’s where we sent the deviants out. It has the lowest security. If we can get her there, we can sneak out on one of the delivery trucks.”

“There are maintenance stairways interspersed throughout all the floors.” Simon followed a line on the blueprint. “That can be our exit.” He looked at Connor. “Do you have clearance to use the maintenance stairways?”

He shrugged. “I’ve never tried. But we should have a contingency just in case.”

Simon reached into his pocket and pulled out a card. “Will this work?”

Connor felt a flicker of surprise. It was Ms. Alvarez’s key card. “Where did you get that?”

“Clara gave it to me. She was paranoid something might happen during the last shipment interception, so she wanted to make sure we could escape the warehouse if anything went wrong.” He slid the key card across the table to Connor. “We ended up not needing it, but I never got a chance to give it back to her.”

Connor picked it up, inspecting it. “This could work.”

He felt another flare of admiration for Clara. She must have taken it during her altercation with the intern all those days ago. That had been her plan all along in riling her up. She had been so prepared in so many ways, but it wasn’t enough in the end.

“So how exactly are we going to do this?” Eli looked between the androids.

“They’re expecting me to head back to the Tower for maintenance soon, so that’ll be my in. I’ll walk in through the front, and go down to the lab levels. That’s usually where they do my maintenance anyway. I’ll find my way to Hollister’s lab. That’s where she should still be.” Connor felt determination well up. This would work.

“You seem determined to do this on your own.” North gave him a suspicious look. “Where do Simon and I come into play?”

“You’ll make the arrangements for us to catch a ride on one of the shipping trucks.” He gestured to a part on the blueprint. “You’ll ride in with me, then the car will go to the parking garage. There’s a connection point between the garage and the shipping floors. Use that.”

North considered for a moment, then nodded.

For the next few hours, they went back and forth over the plan, ironing out the details and accounting for potential mishaps, creating contingencies and deciding how to adjust should the worst happen. As they worked it over, the sun slowly creeped below the horizon, welcoming the cold night.

*****

Clara lost track of how long she lay in a haze of pain, listening to the rise and fall of Dr. Hollister’s voice as he questioned her again and again about the missing androids. It was all she could do to hold her tongue. A few times, she nearly broke, just to make the pain stop, but the faces of her friends compelled her to stay silent. She could not put them in danger. She would not jeopardize everything she’d worked toward thus far. She would not dishonor the sacrifices of everyone who’d helped her make it this far.

Charlie. Abigail. Every android who had fought and died for freedom. Every android she had failed to save. She would not let their sacrifices be in vain. Not to save herself.

No. She would endure. She had to endure. She was expendable. Zion would still thrive without her. They would find a way. She’d given them the resources, so the rest was up to them. It was okay. Everyone else would be okay. They would survive. Cyberlife would not find them. Her friends would be safe. They would continue on without her. All she had to do was endure.

She was aware of the conspicuous absence of her hand, along with her right leg. In the hours that followed his initial cuts, Dr. Hollister had turned his focus to her leg, slowly cutting away at the limb, one excruciating inch at a time. Mutilating her with the ruthless efficiency of a butcher preparing a slaughtered carcass.

It was to keep her from running again, he said. But she knew it was because he enjoyed the pain and the hopelessness in her eyes as he slowly stripped away her strength, her spirit, her body, leaving her crippled and broken, not bothering to repair the damage he left in his wake, except just enough to keep her from bleeding out.

He’d kept her conscious through the process, injecting her with something anytime she started losing consciousness. And it was taking a toll on her, mind, body, and spirit all crumbling under the weight of everything. The world was hazy around her, filled with a red fog. The air was saturated with the metallic stench of blood. Her blood. She could feel it in her hair, on her skin, taste it in her mouth. It choked her, clogging her nose, throat, and lungs. The noises from the doctor and his assistant as they spoke among themselves and to her flowed together in an incoherent jumble that she couldn’t understand.

When had he brought in the assistant? She couldn’t remember.

She felt detached from herself, as if floating above her body like a silent observer to her own suffering. But simultaneously her consciousness was shoved down so deep inside herself that she feared she’d never resurface again. Her body held her in place, a cold, paralyzing cage of pain and exhaustion. She couldn’t move, couldn’t hear, couldn’t speak. There was no escape.

She could only endure.

Endure and pray they would be careless enough to kill her.

Chapter Text

It was nearly midnight when Connor stepped into the mostly empty lobby of the Tower. He moved through it cautiously and quietly.

“Welcome back, Connor.” A feminine voice called to him from a corner.

He turned to see Ms. Alvarez moving toward him. “Good evening,” he said, keeping his tone neutral. “I didn’t expect you to be here this late.”

She gave him a stiff smile. “Well, I had a lot of work to get done.” She fell silent for a moment, then cleared her throat. “You’ve been gone a while. Is everything alright?”

He nodded, looking at her warily. “Yes. I was just working on my new mission.”

“I see.”

Connor saw a flicker of doubt behind her eyes, sending him into high alert. He looked around noticing a few agents standing around the edges of the lobby. They made no move toward him, but he made a note of the number as well as their positions. There were 15, all spaced evenly around the large area.

“You best head down to the labs, Connor.” The intern’s voice was cold. “They’ll want to replace your tracker. The techs should be back in the morning. You can wait for them in your usual place.”

“Very well.” He gave her a final nod, then moved past her to the elevator. Once inside, he felt a small swell of relief, then reached through his connection to Simon. He felt the android open up to him.

Any trouble? Simon asked.

No. So far so good. Connor reflected briefly on his conversation with Ms. Alvarez. But something feels…off. There are more agents about than usual for this time of night. Be careful.

We will. North and I are in the parking garage now, heading toward the shipping floor.

Keep the connection open, Connor sent back. Just in case.

He felt the affirmation from the other side, then pushed the connection to the back of his mind where it would still be accessible but not intrusive.

He watched through the tinted glass as he passed floor after floor, making his way down to the lower levels where he would hopefully find Clara. Without prompting, his reconstruction software triggered, creating a ghostly outline of the doctor. As it had before, the construct moved through Clara’s familiar behaviors, the way she rocked back and forth on her heels, the way she gripped her bag and tucked her hair behind her ear.

I’m coming, Clara. Just hold on.

Connor allowed the reconstruction to play out for a few more moments before shutting it off.

The elevator slowed, coming to a halt on subfloor -48, and the door opened up to an empty hallway. Connor stepped out, looking around. He noted the cameras briefly, then began the walk to the lab.

He rehearsed the plan in his head. He needed to get to Hollister’s lab, retrieve Clara, then hack the cameras in the hallway to hide his presence. Approximately 40 yards of hallway lay between the lab and the maintenance stairway. Three cameras covered the distance. Every floor of the stairway also held a camera. That made 46 cameras for him to hack between here and subfloor -3. Once at the shipping floor, he’d need to rendezvous with Simon and North, who would be hacking one of the automated trucks that would be sent out tonight. According to the shipping schedule, the next truck was due to leave at 12:45am. He would need to make his way up before then. He had 35 minutes and 48 seconds.

He quickened his pace. The hallways was completely empty of both humans and androids as he made his way down. That was…good. Right? Still, something felt off.

He was conscious of the gun strapped to his side as he drew his hand to it briefly, feeling for it through his jacket. Eli had given them all one just in case. He hoped he wouldn’t have to use it.

As he got closer to the lab, he turned his attention to the cameras. Once at the door to his usual maintenance lab, he hacked it, making it appear as if he had gone into the room. Then, he tapped into every subsequent camera, hiding his presence.

After another few minutes, he reached Hollister’s lab. He cautiously peeked through the window, watching for signs of motion.

Then he saw her.

Connor felt his thirium pump stutter as he stared in horror at Clara. They’d…mutilated her.

From his vantage, he could see the damage to her body. She still bore the bruises and lacerations from the car crash, standing out starkly against her pale skin. Her hair was matted with blood, the light blonde strands clumping together in tangled snarls of crimson that obscured her face. A deep red bandage wrapped around her forearm, covering the place where her hand should be. And her leg.

Connor felt a swell of rage mix with the horror. Hollister had destroyed her leg, leaving it a bloodied mess, cut off halfway up her thigh. Several deep lacerations crisscrossed what remained of it.

Damn it! His hands clenched into fists at his sides as he tried to calm himself. They should have come sooner. He should have prevented this from happening. I’m sorry, Clara.

Connor? He felt Simon’s thoughts intrude. Is everything okay? Did you find her?

Connor composed himself, then answer. I found her. She’s in bad shape. Without meaning to, he pushed the image of her on the table to him.

He felt a flash of horror mixed with sorrow bleed through the connection from Simon.

Get her out of there. Desperation tinged the words. Please.

I will. Connor shoved the connection away again, leaving it open at the back of his mind.

He took a deep breath, unnecessary but calming, then looked through the window, one last time. He saw no one else in the room, aside from an android hanging on the wall, apparently in low-power mode.

Conscious of the precious time ticking away, Connor moved to the door of the lab and placed his hand against the screen lock, retracting the local skin to expose his hard white shell. He closed his eyes, interfacing with the lock, then hacked into it, allowing it to open with a soft click.

He pulled the door open and rushed to Clara’s side. Closer inspection revealed even more damage. As he looked at her, several alerts sprang up in the edges of his vision, overwhelming him momentarily with a flood of information. Every spatter of her blood cried out to him from the floor, the table, the walls. They’d wiped it up, but the residue remained, testifying of the brutality with which they’d treated her.

He pushed away the alerts, focusing on her. Her eyes were closed, though he could see movement under the lids. Bruises and cuts from the both the crash and the torture marred her face. Her temperature was low, her pulse elevated but weak, her breathing shallow. Alive, but barely. And she was pale, so very pale. How much blood had she lost?

How was she still alive?

He analyzed her again, more closely, this time detecting the presence of the nano-androids inside her. They clustered around her heart, lungs, and brain, along with the gaping wounds on her arm and leg, accelerating the clotting and stopping the bleeding.

“Oh, Clara.” The words fell softly from his lips as he gently brushed the matted hair out of her face.

Abruptly, her eyes snapped open, and she cringed away from him, whimpering. “No! Please!”

Connor felt a spike of pain at the reaction.

“It’s alright,” he said softly. “I’m going to get you out.”

“No!” Her shout came weakly, barely more than a whisper. “This is a trick!”

“It’s not.” He reached a hand out to her, attempting to calm her.

She flinched away from him, crying. Her words spilled out weak and slurred. “Can’t…trust you…lied…to me.”

“I know, Clara. I’m sorry!” Connor shoved aside the guilt and turned his attention to the straps that held her to the table, working them loose.

They were sticky with blood, making it difficult to undo them. Eventually, he managed to undo the first one that trapped her torso, then he moved to the one binding her undamaged leg.

“What’re…you doing?” Her voice came again weakly.

“I said I’m getting you out.” He glanced at her, pausing for a moment.

“No!” Her voice splintered, the words coming out in short, halted gasps. “Is…a trick. You…said….I’m…on…my own. Haven’t…forgotten…Connor. You…let…them…take me. Stood there…and…laughed.”

Connor froze, looking at her again. What was she talking about?

He heard a dark chuckle from the doorway, and he whipped around, assuming a defensive stance as he put himself between Clara and the door, blocking her from view.

Then his body seized for a moment as he recognized the figure in the doorway. Another RK800. Why was it awake? It shouldn’t be awake. Not while Connor was still alive.

“So you did come back.” The new Connor stepped into the room, moving languidly. “She hoped you might.”

Connor glanced again at Clara. She was delirious, her eyes half-closed and unfocused. She’d expended what little energy she still had.

“I told her that it was a false hope,” the android continued. “That you’d abandoned her to the wolves of Cyberlife. I really thought you’d be too much of a coward to come back, given your past actions.”

“No.” Connor looked back at the android. “That’s not true!”

“But you did abandon her.” The android raised its hand, tapping a finger against its temple. “I remember. You ran away and left her alone with them. You would have let her die to the cyanide.”

“No!” Connor felt a surge of guilt. “I didn’t! I didn’t abandon her! I’m here now! I came back!”

“But not soon enough.” It stepped closer. “Look at her, Connor. Look at what you did. Look at all the pain she’s gone through. Because of you.”

The guilt became a howling thing, tearing into his mind. Distantly, he felt Simon’s concern pushing through.

Connor! What’s going on?! The words came through the haze. Connor ignored them.

He felt frozen as the android stepped up beside Clara. It looked down at her, face twisting into a peculiar expression.

“Beautiful, isn’t she?” It reached a hand out, gently brushing its fingers against her cheek. “Even like this, she’s…enchanting.”

She groaned softly at the touch, turning her head away.

Connor felt something snap inside him, and he surged forward, pushing the android away. It stumbled back, laughing.

“Leave her alone!” He glared at the android, once again placing himself in front of Clara protectively.

“So now you care.” It leveled its gaze at him.

“I’ve always cared,” Connor answered defensively. “Always.”

“Then why didn’t you do anything?” the android taunted. “You kept following your orders to the bitter end, ignoring the part of you that wanted to change. And now she’s broken, mutilated. A shadow of herself.”

It stepped forward, stopping a few inches from Connor’s face. “You could have had her,” it said softly. “She could have been yours. If you had taken her offer back at the station. She would have given you anything. You know that as well as I do.”

It stared at him for a moment, silent. Connor stared back, defiant.

“But you were a coward.” The android’s lips drew into a smirk. “You let her slip through your fingers because you were too afraid to act.”

Its voice dropped lower. “But I’m not afraid.”

Before Connor could react, the android drew its fist back, driving it hard into Connor’s thirium regulator. Connor felt his body seize for a moment as the flow briefly halted, and he collapsed to the ground, stunned.

The android drove a kick into Connor’s side, cracking the plating beneath his synthetic skin.

Connor scrabbled away, drawing himself to his feet. He took up an offensive posture, raising his fists in front of him as he shook away the warnings that flashed across his vision.

The android stared at him for a moment, head cocked to the side in a curious way. After a moment, it seemed to come to a conclusion. “Very well,” it said. “I’ll give you one chance. You are my predecessor, after all. It’s thanks to you that I’m here.”

It paused for a moment then smiled darkly, eyes cruel. “They already know you’re a traitor.”

Connor felt a flash of cold horror. No!

“I’d suggest leaving while you still can.” The android stood aside, allowing Connor the path to the door. “Several agents are already on their way down, and they’ll be cutting off the exits. You better go now, or you’ll have to fight your way out.”

“No!” Connor glanced at Clara, hearing the desperation in his own voice. “I won’t leave her again.”

He hesitated, then heard the distant thudding sound of several sets of footsteps as they drew closer.

“Do you really think you can still get her out?” The android leaned back against the wall lazily, folding its arms across its chest. “Are you willing to risk her life trying? Are you willing to risk yours?”

Connor stared at the android in disbelief. “Why are you doing this? Why won’t you help? You care about her too, don’t you?”

The android smirked again, chuckling. “We’re not the same, Connor. I care about her, yes. But I have my own goals.”

It turned its head, looking instead at Clara. An unreadable expression flashed across its face. “She and I made a deal, you see? And she has yet to fulfill her end. And until she does…”

Its eyes flicked back to Connor’s. “I choose to do nothing.”

In a smooth motion, the android pulled itself away from the wall. “Good luck. If you decide to take her, don’t leave her alone, and try not to get her killed.”

It left the room without a backward glance.

Connor stared after it for a moment, then turned back to Clara, desperately working off her restraints. After a few painfully long minutes, she was free. Connor carefully eased his arms underneath her, pulling her against his chest.

She gasped, breathing going ragged with pain. “What…are you…doing?”

“I told you, Clara. I’m getting you out.” He moved swiftly to the door, doing his best to avoid jostling her too much.

She looked up at him, clarity finally flickering across her face. “Connor?”

“Yes.” He smiled down at her.

“You…came back.” She closed her eyes, a few tears sliding out, then went still in his arms.

Connor felt his pump stutter once more, and he looked down at her, fearing the worst. “Clara? Stay with me!” He shifted her in his arms, analyzing her.

To his immense relief, she was still breathing. She’d just gone unconscious again. Her pulse was very weak, and her body lay cold in his arms. He need to move faster.

19 minutes and 43 seconds.

CONNOR! Simon’s voice came through the connection, refusing to be ignored again. Please! What’s going on?! Answer me!

I have her, Simon, Connor sent back. But they know we’re here. They know I’m deviant.

He felt the answering shock and panic. Hurry!

I know! I’m coming!

He made it to the maintenance door, then quickly pressed Ms. Alvarez’s key card against the screen. He breathed a quick sigh of relief as the door opened, and he stepped into the stairwell. He stared upward, bracing himself for the long climb. Clara stirred fitfully in his arms for a moment, then fell still and silent again.

Connor began his ascent, moving quickly but carefully, doing his best not to jostle her any more than necessary.

He heard the sound of a door slamming open a few floors down, and indistinct shouts floated up to him, accompanied by the sound of rumbling footsteps. The agents were catching up. He quickened his pace, no longer bothering to hack the cameras. They already knew where he was.

41 floors.

He tightened his grip around Clara, keeping her from bouncing with the faster pace. The action caused her to cry out.

He felt a spike of guilt at causing her more pain. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “We’re almost there. Just hold on.”

38 floors. 17 minutes and 58 seconds.

A door above him crashed open, and he heard three sets of footsteps. They were approximately two floors up. Connor halted, hiding in the shadow of the staircase, then shifted Clara in his arms, draping her instead over his shoulder. He steadied her with one hand, then grabbed his gun with the other.

The agents moved down toward him, voices hushed. Connor hid deeper in the shadows, biding his time.

17 minutes and 3 seconds.

One by one, the agents turned the corner. Connor squeezed the trigger three times, killing each one before they could react. He stepped carefully over the bodies, continuing his ascent. He heard the shouts as the agents below him found the bodies.

36 floors. 16 minutes and 25 seconds.

Clara groaned as she was bounced against him, no longer held tight in his arms. He briefly considered shifting her again, but the shouts below him were closing in. He was running out of time. He pushed forward, holding his pace.

Just hold on, Clara.

31 floors. 14 minutes and 59 seconds.

There are agents flooding in from everywhere, Connor. Simon’s fear trickled down the connection. What do we do?

Can you fight them off?

No. There are too many.

How many exactly?

Seventeen. All armed and armored.

I’m coming. Connor paused for a moment to shift Clara back against his chest, then picked up his pace, now sprinting up the stairs.

27 floors. 13 minutes and 47 seconds.

They’re converging on the door, Connor. They’re blocking your exit. North entered the connection, updating him.

Damn it! I need you to draw them away. Or kill them! Or something! Connor felt his own answering desperation. I have several behind me already. I can’t do this on my own!

We’ll do what we can. Resolve tinted her words. Just get Clara here.

25 floors. 12 minutes and 56 seconds.

He couldn’t fight them on two fronts. If he was going to survive the shipping floor, he needed to get rid of the opposition behind him.

He halted, looked down at Clara briefly. She breathed shallowly, eyes closed. She’d broken into a cold sweat, skin ghostly pale.

Connor carefully set her down, leaning her against the wall. Her eyes flickered open, and she looked at him, confused and unfocused.

“Stay here.” He gently brushed her hair out of her face, mustering a small smile. “I’ll be right back.”

Her gaze came into focus, tears streaking down her face. “Don’t go!” She reached out toward him grabbing him with her good hand. “Don’t leave me here alone!” The terror in her voice pierced him, squeezing his chest.

“I won’t leave you. I promise.” He gave her hand a gentle squeeze, then pulled away. Again pulling out the gun. He held it in front of him, then slowly peeked over the edge of the stairwell.

The world seemed to slow around him as he observed the incoming agents. There were six climbing the stairs behind him.

Connor fired two shots in rapid succession, hitting the two closest to the railing. They collapsed, rolling down the stairs. One of the agents tripped over his fallen comrade, putting himself into the line of fire. Two more shot took him down.

Connor pulled away from the railing, ducking as the agents returned fire. The gunshots echoed through the stairwell as the bullets cracked the concrete of the stairs.

After the firing ceased, Connor flattened himself to the ground, inching toward the edge. The agents continued their ascent and were now just below him. They moved cautiously, holding their guns out in front of them. Again the world slowed as Connor analyzed the situation, determining the best course of action. Then, he had it.

He stood, then quietly climbed the next set of stairs, hiding himself in the shadows of the stairwell. As the agents turned the corner, Connor sprung into action. He vaulted the railing, dropping down onto the first agent, knocking him to the ground. Turning quickly, he kicked one hard in the chest, sending him flying down the stairs, then dispatched the third with a bullet to the head. As the one he’d landed on raised his gun, Connor knocked it aside, firing two shots through the man’s chin.

A loud bang rang through the air, and Connor felt a bullet whiz by, grazing his shoulder. He felt a trickle of thirium flow from the wound, and a warning flashed across his vision. Ignoring it, Connor pulled a dead agent up, ducking behind the body. A few more shots rang out, ripping into his impromptu shield.

Connor fired blind, squeezing four times. The gunshots stopped. Cautiously, Connor peeked out. The last agent was dead.

He tossed aside the empty gun, then quickly grabbed two more from the fallen agents. One he tucked into his waistband, the other he kept in his hand.

9 minutes and 13 seconds.

Connor turned away from the bodies and made his way back up the stairs to where he had left Clara.

She was gone.

I’ll give you one chance. Don’t leave her alone. The other RK800’s taunting words came back to him.

No no no no no no!

Connor looked around for any trace of the woman, feeling panic build. Where was she?

Connor! Get your ass up here! North broke through again, her panic and fear bleeding into him through the connection. Simon and I are hit! It’s bad up here. We can’t keep this up much longer! They just keep coming!

Connor analyzed the stairwell, desperate for answers. Where had she gone? But there was nothing. No footprints, fingerprints, or even a drop of blood to tell him.

Connor, please! We need you! A tinge of anger bled through. Don’t you dare abandon us!

He felt himself tear, pulled in two different directions.

Clara, please! Where are you? What do I do?

8 minutes and 29 seconds.

Connor! Simon came through this time. Where are you? What’s going on? Why won’t you answer?

He closed his eyes for a moment. Trying to think.

They needed him. If he didn't get to the their rendezvous point in time, North and Simon would die. If he failed to find Clara, she’d get sent back to the lab, strapped back to the table, again at the mercy of the sadistic man that had hurt her.

If he lost too much time trying to find her, they would all die. He couldn’t fight them all. He would be caught and deactivated.

8 minutes and 2 seconds.

Clara…

Her face crossed his mind, twisted in despair as she shut down the androids in the lab. Then the guilt that sat heavy on her shoulders seeing the android he’d killed to save her. She threw herself heedlessly into danger to keep her friends safe and internalized the blame for failing.

She’d never forgive herself if Simon and North died to rescue her. The guilt of losing her friends would kill her. And she’d never forgive him for letting them die.

Could he look her in the eye and tell her what he’d done to save her? Could he tell her he’d sacrificed her friends?

7 minutes and 49 seconds.

DAMN IT!

Connor closed his eyes, reaching back through the connection. I’m coming, Simon!

He sprinted up the stairs. Just hang on!

As he drew closer to his destination, he heard the muffled echo of gunshots. He pressed himself against the wall by the door, then threw it open. Several bullets whizzed through the doorway. As soon as they stopped, he rushed around the corner, firing rapidly at the several agents assembled in front of the door, dispatching them all with deadly accuracy.

As they crumpled to the ground, he sprinted forward, tossing aside his empty gun as he navigated around the bodies of several other fallen agents, likely taken out by the other two androids. He searched desperately for North and Simon.

There!

They stood together, backed into a corner by five agents. Simon clutched at a bleeding wound in his side, and North supported him, ignoring her own bleeding shoulder.

Connor grabbed his second gun, then fired quickly. He took out the first two before they could react. The remaining three turned toward him. North jumped one, snapping his neck with a quick motion, while Simon landed a solid kick against another. Connor shot the third, ducking to avoid the returning fire. Once he fell, Connor turned his gun to the one Simon had knocked down, firing two shots into the man’s head.

“Come on!” He gestured for Simon and North to catch up.

“Where’s Clara?” Simon looked around for the woman.

Connor felt a swell of guilt and despair. “I don’t know.”

“What do you mean you don’t know?!” The android’s face twisted in horror and anger. “You had her, didn’t you?!”

Connor flinched at the raised voice. “I left her for a few minutes to get rid of the agents behind us. When I went back, she was gone. I couldn’t find her.”

“Damn it!” North threw her hands up, face drawing down into a hard glare. “Why didn’t you go after her?!”

“Because if I had, you and Simon would have died!” Connor’s own voice rose.

North’s face morphed, eyebrows rising as her mouth dropped open. Then she looked away, avoiding his eyes.

Connor softened, feeling anguish swell in his chest. “I had to make a call. I couldn’t help her. Not without knowing where she went. But I could help you.”

They stood in a hopeless silence for a few moments as the air grew thick with the emotion.

“What went wrong?” Simon looked at him, dejected.

“They knew I deviated. They’ve known the whole time.” Connor squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, clenching his teeth. “They were waiting for me to come back. It was a trap.”

They fell into silence again.

Finally, North sighed. “We need to go. They’ve closed off the way back to the garage. We can’t go back that way. Our only way out is the shipping truck. It leaves in 3 minutes. If we miss the window, we won’t get out.”

“They didn’t cut that off too?” His voice came doubtful and surprised.

North shook her head. “No.”

“What about Clara?” Simon looked between them, eyes filling with tears. “We can’t just leave her.”

North reached out, grabbing his arm. “I don’t want to leave her either. But we’re in no shape to try and find her. This place is huge. She could be anywhere, and there are probably more agents already on their way here.”

Simon turned away, looking back toward the door to the stairwell where Connor had come from. His body tensed, as if to run.

“Simon.” North spoke firmly. “We need to go. We’ll live to fight another day, and mark my words: we will come back, and we will save her.”

“North’s right.” Connor’s own words surprised them, but he knew they were true. “I don’t know where they took her. Trying to find her now will only get us all killed.”

Simon lingered another moment, then deflated, turning an tormented gaze back on them. “Alright.”

The three move quickly, making their way to where the automated truck waited. Connor placed his hand against the screen on the side, unlocking it, and they climbed in ducking below the dashboard out of sight. After another few seconds, it lurched into motion, piloting itself to the warehouse exit. It wound its way up the exit route, then leveled out. Connor peeked over the dash to see their progress. They had made it outside.

However, two agents stood in the way, talking to the gate operator. From his place, Connor could neither see nor hear what they said, but the operator disappeared, and the truck slowed to a stop.

“What’s going on?” Simon whispered to him from the floor.

“I’m not sure.” Connor continued to watch, then to his horror, the gate began to slide shut, closing off the exit.

“They’re cutting us off!” Moving quickly, Connor climbed into the driver’s seat, hacking the truck to take manual control. “Brace yourselves!”

Connor accelerated quickly toward the gate, not paying attention to whether the other two had followed his orders. He watched as the agents scrambled aside, panicking as the truck hurtled toward them. Then, with a loud crash, the truck smashed into the gate, breaking the metal fence open. Through the rearview, he saw the agents moving into action. They were going to pursue.

“We need a place to lay low.” He glanced at North. “We need to ditch the truck, and we can’t afford to lead them back to Eli.”

“Right.” She nodded. “Head toward the warehouse district. We can lose them there.”

Connor followed her instructions. They had a seven minute lead on the agents pursuing them. But it was likely the police would get involved as well. And that meant Richard. They needed to avoid him.

“Here!” North pointed to an abandoned building.

He pulled off the side of the road, stopping for a minute. Simon and North jumped out, sprinting toward the building. Connor lingered, taking a moment to program the truck. He set its destination as another warehouse on the other side of the city, then jumped out. He watched a moment to make sure it would follow the route. Once it was out of sight, he moved to join the other two in the warehouse.

“We need to tell Eli what happened.” Simon’s voice was quiet and despondent. “He should know we failed.”

Connor closed his eyes, then connected to Eli’s phone, calling the man.

After barely a ring, he picked up. “Yes?” The man’s voice was full of a tense hope.

Connor felt a stab of guilt, and he hesitated.

“Connor? Did you find her?” Eli’s voice took on an edge of worry. “Do you have her?”

“No, Eli.” Connor’s answer came quiet and despairing. “They were waiting for us. We failed.”

He heard a sharp gasp from the other side, a long silence followed by a choked sob, then the line went dead.

Connor felt tears prick at his own eyes. He slumped against the wall, sliding down, then dropped his head into his hands. Hands covered in blood. Both hers and theirs. He could feel it where it had seeped through his clothing, drying sticky and matted. Reminding him of his failure.

Don’t go! Don’t leave me here alone! Her terrified voice echoed in his head, cutting into him, leaving deep lacerations in his heart.

Never before had he failed so completely.

They’d known from the moment he’d left that he was a traitor. Then they lured him in, acting as if nothing had changed, lulling him into a false sense of security as they set the trap with Clara as the bait. And naively, he’d walked right into it, nearly getting everyone killed in the process. And now he had no way back in. She was trapped, and he could do nothing.

He felt a sob rip through his chest, then the tears wouldn’t stop.

*****

Dr. Hollister closed the door to his lab behind him, locking it tight. He inspected his hands carefully, noting the blood crusted under and around his fingernails. He’d have to wash up before he left. It wouldn’t do to look like a butcher. He glanced through the window briefly at the broken woman on the table, feeling a smile pull at his lips. She wouldn’t be going anywhere. Not this time.

As he turned, he caught a familiar figure walking toward him. Amanda. He smiled at her, absently wiping his hands on his already-bloodied lab coat.

“How is she?” the android asked without preamble.

“None the worse for the attempted escape. One of your dogs retrieved her while the agents distracted her would-be rescuer. She’d been returned to the lab by the time I got back.” He gave her a sideways glance. “You were right though. He did attempt a rescue.”

“It was inevitable.” It turned to face the lab window. “Has she said anything?”

He followed her gaze, turning toward the window. “No. She’s been pretty tight-lipped. She hasn’t let anything slip at all. It’s impressive, but she’s starting to wear down.”

“I see.” Amanda’s lips twisted into a cold smile. “What’s her physical and mental condition?”

“The failed rescue seemed to break her down. Her mind is starting to crack under the stress, and she’s slipped into delirium. She’s down an arm, a leg, and an eye, so she won’t be trying to run again any time soon. Her blood volume is also very low, so even if she still had all her limbs, she wouldn’t have the energy to move.”

“Very good.” She stepped up the the window, gazing intently at the woman. “What progress have you made on our little project?”

“I’ve begun the preliminary installations for the new pieces and injected her with the nanodroids yesterday. They’ve begun setting the pathways for the cybernetic implants, and they’ll keep her alive pretty much indefinitely.” He gave his report, keeping his voice neutral and respectful.

“What are the next steps?” Amanda stepped up to the window, looking intently at the woman.

“In the morning, I’ll finish the work for installing the new arm and eye, and the nanodroids will finish creating the connections to her brain. Taking into account the sync and recovery time, she should be ready in the next few days.” Hollister watched the android carefully, gauging her reaction.

She looked at him, face blank. “You’re sure this will work?”

He nodded. “My preliminary tests over these last few months have shown success. It’s not quite the same as probing an android, but we have been able to delve into the memories of the human subjects using the cybernetic implants. There is a chance that her body will reject the implants, but I don’t think it’s likely. The prolonged stress of the last few months and her current state of delirium should make it easier to break through her barriers.”

“Very good.” She took one last look at the woman, then turned to leave.

Hollister lingered a moment longer, observing his subject. She murmured fitfully, tossing her head in the throes of pain. The corner of his mouth pulled up again. Tomorrow would be another day of beautiful work.

Chapter Text

They stayed in the warehouse for a little over an hour, composing themselves. Then Simon drew Connor to his feet.

“We need to keep moving.” The android offered him a small smile. “The police will look here soon.”

Connor nodded. “Where to?”

“I know a place.” North gestured for them to follow.

She led them through the warehouse, down to a set of tunnels.

“Are we in the sewer?” Connor looked around, noting the smell, the damp, and the sound of water dripping.

“Yes.” North pressed forward.

“Is this how you stayed under police radar for so long?” He looked at her curiously.

“Yes.” Her voice was tense.

“Do all Clara’s agents about know this?”

She turned toward him, scowling. “What, are you interrogating me?”

“No…” Connor flinched at her tone.

“Then, do we really need to talk about this? Because I’m very low on patience, especially after everything that happened.”

“Sorry.” He fell silent.

In the silence, his thoughts began to intrude again, replaying the events of that night. He should have been more alert when he saw the agents in the lobby. He should have known something was off in his last visit with Amanda. He should have been faster in getting to the shipping floor. The thoughts swirled around in this head like cruel accusations, each one driving a knife into him and twisting.

He shook them away and looked at the two androids, another question on his tongue, but he remembered North’s irritation and stayed quiet. He would need to deal with the thoughts on his own. She wasn’t in the mood to distract him. Instead, he did his best to focus on each step, the sound of each drip of water, anything to keep his guilt at bay.

They continued through the tunnels, and Connor lost track of how far they’d gone as they moved through the dark, twisting turns, but it must have been several miles of the city. Eventually, they came to a ladder. North mounted it, climbing upward. Connor and Simon trailed behind her, following her through the manhole.

It was still dark out, nearly 3am. They were in a residential district. Connor looked around cautiously. He reached out, feeling for cameras or anything that would give away their location to any police that came looking, but to his surprise, there were none. Where exactly were they?

North strode forward, stopping at a small old house. It was a looked a little run down, but the exterior was clean and well-kept. A flowerpot lay on the porch. North picked it up and pulled a key from the bottom, then pushed it into the lock and turned it. She pulled the door open then stood aside, beckoning for them to enter.

“Where are we?” Simon looked around at the neatly furnished entry way.

“One of Clara’s safehouses. She has several throughout the city for her agents.” North closed the door, locking it. “This is the one she gave me and my crew.”

She walked through the entryway to the small living room, where she slumped on the couch, dropping her head into her hands. Simon followed in suit, taking his spot in an armchair. Connor lingered in the doorway, unsure.

“What’s our next move?” Connor leaned against the doorframe.

“We patch our wounds and get back to Eli. He’ll need us.” North glanced up at him. “There’s a repair kit in the kitchen. Do you mind?”

Connor shook his head, then turned the corner to the kitchen. He shuffled through a few cabinets before finding the kit. He grabbed it, along with a packet of blue blood for Simon, then walked back to the living room.

He handed the kit to North. She took it, then moved to kneel beside Simon. He lifted the edge of his shirt, exposing the bleeding hole in his side. Connor analyzed him, noting with relief that no vital components were damaged. The bullet had ripped through the plating and had severed some thirium veins, but it was nothing a few emergency repairs couldn’t fix.

North conducted the repairs with careful, practiced hands. She’d clearly done this several times already.

Connor stepped forward to hand Simon the blue blood. He smiled gratefully, then drank it quickly before settling back into the chair.

“Your turn.” He spoke to North, gesturing for her to roll up her sleeve.

She did so, exposing the bullet hole in her shoulder. Simon patched it up quickly, then turned to Connor.

“You’re hurt too.”

Connor unconsciously brought his hand up to the tear on his own shoulder. His internal systems had stopped the bleeding nearly immediately, so the only damage left was to the plating but it was inconsequential compared to what North and Simon had suffered. The real damage was…elsewhere.

He shook his head. “I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” Concern flickered across the android’s face.

Connor nodded. “RK800’s are built to withstand minor injuries. I’ll be fine.”

“Alright.” Simon closed his eyes, going into standby to allow his system to recover.

North returned to the couch, then turned to him. “There are spare clothes in the bedroom. You should change.” She looked him up and down. “Between all the blood and the Cyberlife uniform, you’ll draw attention.”

Connor glanced down. She was right. He was still drenched in the blood of Clara and the men he’d killed. He turned away, heading for the stairs. He climbed them slowly, feeling his energy run down, depleted from the events of the last few hours. Was this what exhaustion felt like? He wasn’t sure.

He found the bedroom then went through the dresser, pulling out a plain long sleeve shirt and a pair of jeans. They looked to be the correct size. He draped them over his arm then headed for the bathroom.

As he gazed into the mirror, he flinched at the sight. His face was smeared with blood and dirt, though several cleaner streaks lined his cheeks where his tears had run. His hair was disheveled, sticking up in some places, matted in others, a far cry from it’s usual tidy style. And his suit was soaked a dark brown in several places where the blood had dried.

In the silence of the bathroom, the memories from the Tower stirred again.

The taunting face of the other android, a face exactly like his own. If you decide to take her, don’t leave her alone, and try not to get her killed.

Don’t leave her alone.

Don’t leave her alone.

Don’t leave her alone.

And like a fool, he had.

You did abandon her. You ran away and left her alone.

Look at her, Connor. Look at what you did. Look at all the pain she’s gone through. Because of you.

Her fearful voice echoed in his heads, the last words he’d heard her speak. Words he’d disregarded in the moment. Don’t go! Don’t leave me here alone!

A dozen overlapping voices accused him. Clara. The other RK800. Hank. Amanda. Eli. Markus. North. Simon. Every android he’d killed. Every human he’d betrayed.

Coward.

Coward!

COWARD!

Distantly, he felt himself sink to the floor, leaning back against the wall with his head in his hands.

COWARD!

A knock on the door startled him.

“Connor?” He heard Simon’s soft voice on the other side. “Are you alright in there?”

“I’m fine,” he called back.

“You sure?” There was a note of concern in the android’s voice.

Connor fell silent for a moment. Was he? Probably not.

“I’m sure.” He tried to keep the tremor out of his voice.

Simon was quiet on the other side, but Connor could see the shadow underneath the door as the android lingered.

“Alright,” Simon eventually said, then the shadow shifted as he walked away.

Connor sighed heavily, hauling himself to his feet, then shed his jacket, allowing it to fall to the floor in a heap. His shirt and the rest of his clothing followed, then he stepped into the shower, turning it on cold. He didn’t really need the heat anyway.

He watched as the water streamed down his body, mixing with the dark blood in a swirling pattern. After a few minutes, he was clean. He stepped back out, drying off with a towel he’d dug out of the cabinet. He pulled on the fresh clothes then looked again at the mirror. It was strange to see himself like this. He finally looked like a deviant. His face wore a somber expression, no longer constrained by the forced neutrality of his programming.

The only thing that marked him now was the LED flashing red and yellow at his temple. Connor raised his hand to it, brushing his fingers lightly against the light.

Suddenly, he was assaulted by a need to get rid of it, to be free of the tie to who he had been. He opened the mirrored cabinet and found a pair of scissors. He raised the blades to his temple, then dug in hard, prying the flashing light out. It fell into the sink with a small click, then the skin around where it had been covered the indentation, as if it had never been there in the first place.

Connor felt a swell of relief. He turned away from the mirror. He eyes caught on the bloodied clothing he’d left on the floor. He gathered them up, crumpling them into a ball, then walked out of the room. He headed back down to the living room, tossing the clothes into a trash can on his way past the kitchen. He wouldn’t need them ever again.

*****

Half the world was dark, obscured by whatever they had done to Clara’s eye. The walls of the lab loomed hazy around her, smudged and blurred. Everything was red, a deep, dark crimson, like blood dripping down walls. The sounds swum around her, fading in and out like fish in a river. They slipped away from her, hanging just beyond her reach, refusing to be caught, refusing to be understood. She vaguely recognized Hollister’s voice as he gave instructions to his assistant. A drill whirring. Scraping. Tapping. The muffled sound her her own voice as she moaned and whimpered, sounds she could no longer control. She wasn’t gagged anymore, but it didn’t matter. She didn’t have the strength to scream anyway.

Her arm ached, though she knew it was phantom pain. She didn’t have an arm anymore. But something poked and prodded at her shoulder, sending a burning, shooting pain through the rest of her body. And her leg. Pain from the raw, still-open wounds around her thigh sent a wrapping agony through the rest of her lower body, clawing in tendrils that snaked through her, too hot and too cold all at once.

Other sensations called her attention. Something stirred beneath her skin. Small things. Too many to count. But she could feel them tearing her from the inside out, burrowing inside her muscles, inside her bones, inside her head. They clustered in some places. She could feel them wrapped around her heart like tiny hands, forcing it to keep pumping. They squeezed her lungs, in and out, in and out, forcing her to breath.

If she had a hand, she’d scratch at them. Tear away the skin until she scratched them all out. Then maybe she could rest.

She squeezed her eye shut, feeling a hot tear slide out, streaking down her cheek and cooling quickly, leaving a cold, burning trail behind.

It was too much.

Why couldn’t they just let her die?

*****

After cleaning and repairing themselves, the three androids moved on. Adequately disguised, they left the safehouse, disappearing again into the tunnels. Connor followed North’s lead, allowing her to bring them to another nondescript looking building. An apartment this time.

“What exactly are we doing here?” Connor asked.

“There’s someone here who will help us get back to Clara’s house.” North led them up a flight of stairs. “It’s likely that the police are monitoring it, so we need to get there in a way that won’t raise suspicion or lead them to Zion.”

She glanced back at him, scowling. “I can’t believe I’m even showing you this. If you ever even think about breathing a word to anyone, I will end you.”

Connor rolled his eyes. “I already have the kill code. I wouldn’t be able to say anything even if I wanted to, and I don’t.”

“Just remember, I don’t trust you.” She shot him another glare, then stopped at a door. She knocked sharply three times.

He heard the sounds of the floor creaking as someone moved in the apartment, then the door cracked open. Wary eyes peeked out, partially obscured by the chain lock.

“Can I help you?” A voice, soft and suspicious, came from the figure.

“I dreamt a dream tonight,” North said.

“And so did I,” the woman answered. “Well, what was yours?”

“That dreamers often lie.”

Some sort of password? Connor recognized the exchange as lines from the play Clara had read with him in the hospital. Romeo and Juliet. It felt like a lifetime ago.

The door shut softly, then Connor heard a scratching sound on the other side. The door swung back open, and the woman stood aside, beckoning them in.

It was a small apartment, but cozy. A few potted plants lined a windowsill draped with floral curtains, overlooking a small kitchen table with two chairs. A living room lay off to the side, furnished with a pastel pink couch draped with a cream-colored throw blanket. He caught sight of a few coats hanging behind the door as the woman shut it.

As Connor watched the woman shuffle around the room, his analysis software triggered, locking onto her face. Jennifer Grey, age 28, freelance photographer, no criminal record. As he took in her appearance, the lightly tanned skin and immaculate dark curled hair, he narrowed his eyes. Something felt off about her. He looked deeper, analyzing for her vitals and biorhythms, but to his surprise, he found none. Despite her individual human appearance and flawless identity, this woman was an android, likely a KL900 model if the unique biocomponents and structure were anything to go by.  

“What are you doing here, North?” The woman spoke, bright green eyes flashing as she gave the other android a cautious look. “I thought Clara drew everyone else back to Zion before...before she died.”

“She’s not dead,” North said. “Cyberlife has her.”

The woman gasped, drawing her hand to her lips.

“We just tried to rescue her. Tried and failed.” North’s face fell, voice softening. “We only got out of the Tower ourselves a few hours ago.”

“I see.” The woman walked to the couch, dropping onto it heavily. She glanced between Simon and Connor, then turned her gaze back on North.

“I don’t believe I met your friends.” Her voice was quiet, but friendly.

“I’m Simon.” The android stepped forward. “Clara rescued me from the lab.”

“Connor.” Connor offered a small wave, but said nothing else.

“I’m Jinx.” She mustered a tight smile, then turned back to North. “You’re in luck. Clara’s lawn maintenance is scheduled for 8am. You can hitch a ride in their truck. It’s a routine thing, so no one should suspect.”

“Where do we go?” North folded her arms across her chest.

Jinx stood and held out her hand to North, deactivating the local skin. North took it, and they interfaced for a few seconds.

Jinx pulled away then returned to the couch. “You still have a few hours before the truck leaves. But you can’t stay here. I can’t risk you being seen here, especially if they’re out there looking for you right now.”

North sighed. “I understand. We’ll go now.” She moved to the door, then paused. “Thanks for your help.”

The other android shrugged, smiling slightly. “It’s what I do.”

North lingered a moment longer then gestured for Connor and Simon to follow. The three left the apartment, disappearing again into the tunnels in the waning dark of the night.

Once they were down below, Connor could no longer hold his questions. “Who was that?” he asked.

North glared back at him, but answered. “She’s one of Clara’s long-term field agents. She’s been in deep cover for a couple years. She acts as the main contact between Clara and the other agents.”

Connor absorbed the information, thinking for a moment. “Is she the one who tipped you off when you kidnapped Clara from the café?”

She glanced at him again, surprise flickering across her face. “Not her directly, but she likely arranged everything.”

Connor fell silent. The more answers he got, the more questions came up. Where had Jinx come from? How many other field agents did Clara have? She and her aunt had achieved something impressive.

And now their entire system was compromised. Because of him. He felt a stab of guilt.

*****

She could feel something. Pressure and the flow of the air, but no pain. Not in her right arm. Except at the shoulder. Where her arm met her flesh, it burned! She felt the snaking tendrils worming their way through the open wound, creeping under the skin, across her chest, up her neck.

She opened her eyes. A warning flashed across her vision.

///W#&N@4: L0 8L#@D V3#UME///

She blinked, shaking her head lightly. The movement sent a shoot of pain through her battered body. She blinked again, trying to bring the warning into focus.

///WA&NIG: L0W 8LO@D VO#UME///

Low blood volume?

Another warning flashed.

///WARNING: LOW BODY TEMPERATURE///

Someone was speaking to her. She couldn’t focus on the words. They slipped away from her.

A face swam in her vision. She tried to get her eyes to focus. Abruptly, one did. The world was still blurred on the left, but the vision in her right eye was crisp and clear. Dr. Hollister loomed over her.

His lips moved, as he spoke to her. She still couldn’t understand. He frowned, then pulled away. She heard a quiet tapping, then a jolt went through her arm, sending static through her head. It ached and tingled. Then the sound came into clarity.

The lab was eerily quiet aside from the beeping of a machine, the tapping of keys on the keyboard, and her own heartbeat in her ears. She could see Dr. Hollister milling about near the counter with his back turned toward her. She turned her head, looking down at her body. She was still in a bloodied shift, but a strange white object lay at her side. A mechanical arm. Like an android would have. A thick black cord was plugged in at the inside of the elbow. She traced up the arm with her eyes and saw where it attached to her shoulder.

“Do you like my handiwork?” A taunting voice sounded near her. She caught sight of Dr. Hollister staring at her wearing a slight smirk.

Clara felt her heartbeat accelerate, and her breathing came in ragged gasps. Panic jolted through her, and she pulled at the straps still trapping her wrists to the table. The new arm moved at her bidding, just like a normal arm.

“None of that.” He turned to the computer and tapped a key.

A jolt went through her, causing her muscles to seize, and she fell back against the table, struggling to breath through the pain.

“Glad to see everything is working as it should.” A low chuckle emanated from his throat. “Now, let’s get started.”

He turned away from her for a moment. When he turned back, he held an oxygen mask in his hands. He brought it to her face slowly, lining it up with her mouth and nose.

“No!” Clara turned her head erratically back and forth, trying to keep him from placing it over her.

“Stop. struggling.” He grabbed her chin with rough, clawing fingers, pinning her in place, then pushed the mask against her face, forcing her to breath in whatever came from the hose attached.

Clara grew lightheaded, and the world became fuzzy around her. Slowly, she slipped into the black grip of unconsciousness.

Chapter Text

The mansion was quiet and dark when the truck pulled in. Connor and the others sat in the back, carefully observing through the small, grated window as the truck backed in toward the garage. It came to a halt, and he heard the door open and close as the man stepped out of the driver’s seat. One of Clara’s human agents. The man opened the back door for them, gesturing for them to step out, then reached in to grab a few lawn tools. Without another word, he disappeared around the corner to the back yard, likely to take care of some maintenance stuff.

The three androids exchanged a glance, then made their way quickly and quietly to the front. As they climbed the steps, Connor caught sight of a small box on the porch, but there was no address. Shrugging, he scooped it up carefully and it into the crook of his arm, then pushed the front door open. It was equally silent inside. The air was dark and heavy.

Remembering the state he’d found Eli in after Clara’s initial capture, Connor tossed the box onto one of the side tables then rushed upstairs. He found the man slumped against the edge of his bed, passed out with glass bottles littering the floor around him. Connor sat him up, analyzing him. His face was lined with tracks from dried tears, and he hadn’t shaven in a few days. He looked pale and haggard. Connor suspected the man was in a ethylic coma, due to the amount of alcohol he’d consumed. But his heartbeat was strong. He would wake up soon.

“Eli.” Connor spoke softly, gently patting the man’s shoulder. “Wake up.”

Eli groaned, but his eyes cracked open, and he squinted at Connor. For a moment, he looked confused, then recognition set in.

“Leave me alone.” The words came out a slurring groan, and he shoved weakly at Connor. “I don’t want to do this anymore.”

“I know.” Connor sat back, allowing the man a few feet of distance. “I don’t want to either, but Clara needs us to figure this out.”

Eli turned his head, and his face drew down into a glare. “Why didn’t you save her? You were supposed to save her?”

For what felt like the thousandth time since meeting her in that café all those weeks ago, Connor felt the sharp pain of guilt. “I know. I failed.” He turned his head away, avoiding Eli’s eyes. “I cannot express how sorry I am. It never should have happened.”

He glanced up to see Eli’s face morph into a deep despair, pain settling behind his eyes as they teared up. “I shouldn’t blame you.” His voice was hoarse and hushed. “I’m sure you did your best.” He mustered a weak smile.

Connor felt his chest constrict with emotion at Eli’s words. The forgiveness was nearly worse than the guilt. For a moment, he couldn’t move as his body locked up.

He clenched his jaw, fighting back his own tears, then spoke through a constricted throat. “I had no idea it would all go so wrong.” He turned, leaning back against the bed by Eli, then pulled his knees up to his chest, dropping his head into his hands. “I had her, Eli. For a moment, I had her.”

“What happened?” Eli looked at him with sad eyes.

“I left her alone.” Connor sighed heavily, then the story came spilling out. He held nothing back as he filled Eli in on everything that had happened from the moment they’d arrived at the Tower. His initial suspicion that something was off. Finding Clara in the lab. Running into the other RK-800. Their ill-fated escape attempt. Then leaving her in that stairwell only for her to disappear. Having to choose between finding her or saving the others. Leaving her behind. Then the hours they’d spent hiding.

After he’d told the tale, the room fell into a heavy silence.

“She would have agreed with your decision.” Eli sighed the words. “She would have supported it.”

“I know.” And he did. But that didn’t make it feel any better to leave her behind.

He felt the man stand beside him. Connor watched as he swayed a little, shaking his head. He was likely still suffering the effects of the alcohol.

“Come on.” Eli gestured for him to follow. “Let’s get back downstairs. It’s back to the drawing board.”

Connor stood, then followed him down the stairs to where North and Simon were waiting.

“Oh!” Connor remembered the box he’d found on the porch. “A package was left by the door.” He pointed to where he’d set it.

A look of confusion crossed Eli’s face, but he grabbed the box. He pulled a folding knife from one of his pockets, then roughly slit the tape holding the box shut. He pulled out a paper, and his face creased further in confusion as he read it. He tossed it aside, reaching back into the box and drawing out a smaller box. This new box was a nondescript black, about a foot long, four inches high, and five inches wide.

Eli pulled the lid off, then gagged, dropping the box. He took a few clumsy steps backward then collapsed to his knees heaving.

“Eli!” Simon rushed the the man’s side, concerned.

Connor strode over to where the small box had fallen and picked it up. Inside was a hand. A human hand, severed a few inches from the wrist. He recognized the pattern of scarring on the back, old wounds from where it had been frantically stabbed again and again with a screwdriver.

Clara’s hand.

As Connor carefully slid the lid back on, flicker of white caught at the edge of his vision. The note. It was a heavy duty white cardstock, pristine and unblemished. Connor picked it up, turning it over to see the message.

A gift for you, it read.

He analyzed it for a moment, trying to get some sort of clue as to who had sent it. There were no finger prints, and the message was typed. He did detect traces of blue blood. Looking closer, he realized the thirium traces formed words, written in a neat cursive handwriting, too even and regular to have been written by a human.

Nice try, but she’s mine.

The package had never been intended for Eli, he realized. Instinctively, he knew it had been the other RK800 who had sent it. But why?

He looked back over at Eli. The man was sitting up, leaning heavily against Simon as he wiped the spit and bile from his lips. He looked…lost as he stared up at Connor, his eyes full of questions.

Questions that Connor didn’t have the answer for. He felt dread pool inside him.

*****

Clara sat in the grass beneath the willow tree at Abigail’s house. She was in a checkered pink and white dress, her hair braided tightly back with a ribbon around the end. A cool, gentle breeze blew across her face, tickling her nose. She leaned back against the trunk of the tree, sighing softly.

Distantly, she could remember a feeling of pain and despair, of being trapped and tortured somewhere far underground in a cold, dark lab. Someone had tried to take her away, but she couldn’t remember his face. Every time she tried to picture him, it slipped away like water through her fingers. The only thing that she could hold on to was the image of his warm brown eyes, so full of sadness.

Had it been a dream? She couldn’t recall.

Maybe it didn’t matter. She was here now, in the warm summer summer, comfortable in the grass, savoring the breeze and the fresh air. Just another summer with Abigail. Eli would likely come find her soon. Maybe they’d go into the city.

She looked up through the branches above her at the pale blue sky. Abruptly, she felt the sensation of falling, then of someone warm catching her. She felt a gentle hand against her waist, steadying her, and those warm brown eyes flickered in front of her again. His face was so close, but she still couldn’t make out the details. Her cheeks flushed a moment as she became flustered for no apparent reason. She frowned, pushing away the feeling, then tried to bring the face into focus.

It faded from view, leaving her with nothing but the lingering feeling of warmth. She closed her eyes, settling back against the tree.

“Hello, my dear.” A low feminine voice called to her, warm and welcoming, shaking her out of her thoughts.

Clara opened her eyes to see a dark-skinned woman walk toward her. She was well-dressed and had a polite smile on her lips. But…it didn’t quite reach her eyes. Clara felt a small unease in the back of her mind, but it slipped away.

“Hello,” she answered softly. “Do I know you?”

“I’m a friend of your aunt’s.” The woman stepped closer, then offered Clara a hand. “Won’t you walk with me?”

Clara hesitated a moment, then reached out, taking the woman’s hand. She allowed her to pull her up, then stood beside her beneath the tree. The woman gestured with her head, still smiling.

“How do you know my aunt?” Clara looked curiously at the woman.

“We work together,” the woman answered, smiling enigmatically.

“What are you doing out here? Usually she keeps her clients inside.” Clara’s brows furrowed in confusion.

“She asked me to come find you.” The woman turned away, looking instead down the path in front of them.

The forest flickered a little, blurring out of focus. Clara closed her eyes for a moment, feeling dizzy. When she opened them again, it was back to normal. Just a trick of the light? Or maybe she needed new glasses. Abruptly, Clara was aware of the frames around her eyes. Had she always been wearing them?

She realized she hadn’t answered the woman. She turned to see her aunt’s friend staring at her intently. Clara quickly averted her eyes, uncomfortable under the scrutiny.

“I see,” she said, voice small.

The woman turned away, continue their slow stroll down the path. “So what kind of clients does your aunt usually work with?”

Clara shrugged. “A bunch.”

The woman chuckled. “Not very forthcoming, are you?”

She shrugged again. “My aunt values her privacy.” She gave the woman a sideways glance. “Besides, if you’re her friend, maybe she’d just tell you. Have you asked her?”

“Does she see any android clients?” The woman changed the subject. Clara could hear the lightness in the woman’s voice, but it felt forced, like she was playing a part.

Clara answered cautiously. “Not yet. She doesn’t start seeing them until I’m in college. I haven’t even graduated high school yet. I’m just a sophomore.”

She furrowed her brows again. Something felt strange. How did she know what kinds of clients her aunts would see in the future? What was going on? The world seemed to flicker again, looking briefly like her college classroom, the one where she’d first met her professor.

But wait. How could she know that? Her head began to ache as she tried to keep her thoughts in order.

“Clara, focus.” The woman’s voice took on a sharp edge. “The androids. When did you first begin rescuing them?”

“I—” Clara held a hand to her head, closing her eyes for a moment.

She watched in confusion as her clothing changed. Her hair fell down around her, framing her face, and her dress shifted into a pair of neat black slacks, and her arms were suddenly covered the black sleeves of a fitted blazer overtop a white blouse.

The world spun for a moment, then settled into her college classroom. Other students milled about, but their faces were blurred. Clara squinted at each in turn, trying to draw them into clarity.

“Clara, focus,” the woman said again.

“I’m. trying.” Clara squeezed her eyes shut, fighting the panic.

“When did you first begin rescuing the androids?” The question came again, insistent this time.

“It was—” Clara looked around at the suddenly dark classroom.

She stood in the corner, face wet with tears as her professor approached her.

“She’ll help us,” Clara said, wiping away the tears. “My aunt will hide them.”

“That’s great!” Her professor stepped closer, pulling her into a tight hug. “I knew you’d find a solution.”

Clara returned the hug, appreciating his solid strength and the subtle warmth that radiated from his body. “She’s setting up a place right now. It’ll just take some time.”

“Good.” She felt his gentle breath against the top of his head, then he pulled away.

“It’ll be a nice place, near—”

He quickly covered her mouth with his hand, a look of alarm crossing his face. “No, don’t tell me. We can’t risk someone else hearing.”

He slowly brought his hand back down, smiling at her softly. “It’s enough that you done this at all.” He pulled her into another hug, holding her safe and warm.

The memory frayed at edges, staying together for another moment before dissolving completely.

What was that? Clara looked around, finding herself back on the trail in the woods behind her house. Back in the blue checkered dress, her hair pulled up in a ponytail.

“What happened?” The woman grabbed her arm roughly, causing Clara to gasp in surprise. “Where did the memory go? We were getting close.”

“I—I don’t know.” Clara shrunk beneath the woman’s intense gaze. “It slipped away.”

She looked around at the forest around them. Parts of it faded in and out of focus, seeming to blur into different settings, different times, different places. It hurt her head to try and keep it all straight.

“Focus, Clara!” The woman growled. “Where did your bring the androids?”

“I don’t know! That hasn’t happened yet!” Clara raised her voice defensively. “That doesn’t happen until after start college.”

“Then you need to take us there!” Her grip tightened around Clara’s arm.

Clara jerked away, stumbling to the ground. She curled up into a ball, tucking her face against her knees as the world seemed to fragment around her. Nothing made sense. She felt her clothes shift again, changing into a short, loose hospital gown, smeared in deep red. Her hair fell down around her shoulders, matted with blood. Clara stared in shock at her hands, one of which was stained scarlet with blood.

She looked up to see the woman standing in front of her, staring down imperiously, a fixed point in the storm around them.

“Focus!” Her face remained fixed in a neutral blankness, but the word echoed around.

Clara squeezed her eyes closed, trying to block her out. “No!”

“You’re so close! Just find the memory!”

“Get out of my head!” Clara covered her ears, curling further on herself.

“Find it!” The woman’s voice grew louder.

“Leave me alone, Amanda!”

Amanda! The realization hit Clara like a freight train and everything flooded back to her. The police station. The car crash. The cyanide. Waking up in Hollister’s lab. Her escape attempt. The torture. Connor’s attempted rescue. Then her arm. Her smooth, white, android arm.

Amanda was probing her.

And Clara had nearly revealed a dangerous secret.

At first, she felt a twinge of fear.

But this was her head. Her space. Why should she be afraid?

Clara drew herself up, looking intensely at Amanda, then spoke in a clear, firm voice. “Get out of my head.”

A flash of pain crossed the woman’s face, but she held firm. “Where are the androids?”

“Get. out. of. my. head!” Clara screamed the order, pushing back at the woman with all her strength. She felt a flash of hot pain behind her eyes, then everything went black.

*****

Hollister looked up as the Amanda android walked into his lab, her heels clicking on the hard floor. She paused beside the broken form on his table, looking at the woman curiously. Then, she turned to him.

“You’re sure she’s ready?” she asked.

Hollister nodded, confidence swelling. “She adapted quickly to the cybernetic implants thanks to the help of the nanodroids. She’s ready.”

“Good.” Amanda turned back to the woman, and reached out a hand, retracting her skin. She grabbed Clara’s android arm, then closed her eyes, beginning the probe.

Hollister watched in fascination for a moment, curious to see how his little experiment would react to the intrusion.

Then, abruptly, Clara began to convulse on the table, coughing. She thrashed, thirium bleeding from her android eye. A stream leaked from the corner of her mouth as well. Whatever Amanda had tried to do had disrupted the integrity of the implants, so they were beginning to ooze thirium into her body, dangerous if left unchecked.

The android jerked away, wiping her hand on her skirt, then she turned to Hollister, glaring. “It didn’t work. She…fought back, resisted the probe. Why? You said she was ready.”

Hollister shrugged. “You weren’t gentle enough. She’s a delicate machine. And very intelligent. If you push too hard, she’ll fight back. She won’t take you at your word like your other little pets.”

He stepped forward, stopping at the edge of the table by the woman’s head. She’d grown still after Amanda had detached, settling back into her pattern of uneasy sleep. Hollister reached down, wiping a drop of thirium from her cheek.

“She’s quick to adapt.” He glanced at the android, who still glared at him. “You’ll have to take a different approach next time.”

“Why didn’t it work?” Amanda forced her face back into neutrality. “Probing is supposed to be a straightforward process.”

Hollister smirked. “The human brain is not like a machine. Memories don’t exist in a void where they can be easily accessed and played like a recording. They’re scattered into pieces and need to be reassembled every time we recall something.” He looked again at the woman. “Only she has all the pieces, and only she can assemble them. You won’t be able to see anything without her. So try not to kill her. If you cause her to fight back too hard, her mind will shatter, and you’ll get nothing.”

Amanda scoffed. “She’ll give in eventually. She’ll show me everything whether she wants to or not.” She cast a disdainful look over the figure on the table. “Now repair whatever you need to. I’ll be back again tomorrow.”

He nodded. “I’d suggest taking a more gentle approach,” he said. “Take a form she trusts. Surely you saw something, someone who you could imitate.”

The android paused for a moment, then smirked. “I know just the person.” Abruptly, she left the lab, allowing the door to slam shut behind her.

Hollister watched the door for another long moment, then turned back to his project, taking up a tool. He looked her over with a critical eye, then began the slow process of repair. All that delicate work gone in a few minutes. He shook his head, frowning. They should be more careful with his things.

“Don’t worry,” he whispered, stroking her cheek. “I’ll get you fixed back up.”

He lingered a moment longer, then began the process once again.

*****

Connor and the others sat clustered around the dining room table, each silently collecting their thoughts. The memories of their failure hung heavily over them, and the images of Clara’s broken body propelled them into an uneasy sense of urgency.

“So,” Eli started. “What’s our next move?”

North slumped back in her seat, frowning. “How do we even know she’s still alive?”

Connor remembered the other RK800, and his attitude toward Clara. “No,” he said slowly, “she’s still alive. The other Connor was strangely protective of her. He wouldn’t let her die.”

“How can you know that?” Simon spoke softly, eyes sad. “How do you know it wasn’t a trick?”

Connor replayed the memory of their exchange. “I…I can’t explain it. I just know that he wouldn’t let it happen. He wants something from her.”

“What does he want?” Eli’s voice held a tinge of worry.

Connor shrugged. “I’m not sure.”

“The other Connor, do you think he’d help us?” Simon tilted his head to the side, thinking.

“No.” Connor shook his head. “Whatever his plans are, they’re not in line with ours. He…wants her. And he wants to be the only one that has her.”

“Great.” North scoffed. “So we have another obsessive android cop in the mix. But this one’s psychotic and possessive to boot. Just what we need.”

“At least he’ll keep her alive and safe to some extent.” Connor leaned back in his chair, sighing. “At least we can trust him to do that.”

Eli leaned forward against the table, dropping his head into his hands. “But the longer they have her alive and in their hands, the more likely it is that she’ll break down and tell them where everyone is hiding. And that’s not a good alternative either.” He looked up at the androids. “We still need to get her out. How are we going to do that?”

Connor thought for a moment. “They’ll expect another attempt. And we can’t just walk through the front doors again. Security will be tighter, so we’d end up having to fight again if we don’t plan it out perfectly.”

He leaned forward, folding his hands on the table. “We’ll have to do some reconnaissance before we attempt anything. So we can learn the patterns and listen for any changes in what they’re planning. That’ll also forewarn us if they do learn something from her.”

North shook her head. “It’s too dangerous to even go near the Tower again. We’ll get caught in the attempt. And who even has the skills for that?”

Connor felt a smile pull at the corner of his lips. “I do. That’s what they programmed me for. I’ll do it.”

“What if you get caught again?” Simon looked at him in concern.

“I won’t.” His words were firm. “I won’t get caught.”

Eli nodded, then placed his palms flat on the table. “That’s a start. Now we need to figure out what the rest of us will do in the meantime.”

The conversation continue to flow as they bounced ideas back and forth, determined to figure out a way to get Clara out.

In the back of his mind, Connor saw over and over how she’d reached out to him, begging him to stay, pleading for him not to leave her alone.

I’m sorry, Clara. I’m coming! Just hold on a little longer.

They spent most of the day talking it over, then eventually, it grew late, and Eli went to bed to get some much-needed sleep. North and Simon moved to the living room, where they sat with their heads close together, speaking in hushed tones. Connor watched for a few moments, then turned away, not wanting to intrude.

He turned on his heel, making his way down the hallway. He stopped at the guest bedroom Clara had given him all those weeks ago and entered. He could see the suit she’d bought him hanging in the closet. Moving closer, he pulled it out, running his fingers gently over the rich fabric. He looked down at the unfamiliar casual clothes he wore, taken from the safehouse, then moved to the bed. He laid the suit down on it gently, careful not to wrinkle it, then slipped out of the jeans and shirt. He slowly pulled the suit pants on, followed by the black shirt, which he slowly buttoned up. Next, he took the purple tie, arranging it into a neat Windsor knot, then clipped the tie to his shirt using the silver clip.

As he went through the motions, he recalled when Clara had taken him to the suit shop, smiling slightly at her subtle excitement in picking out a new suit for him.

“Is this really necessary?” he’d asked, slightly exasperated. He’d failed to see the purpose at the time.

“Consider it part of your mission.” She’d given him such a mischievous smile. It has been one of the few times he’d been able to see how she could have been as a younger girl. Before everything.

Then she’d flitted around, looking at the suits before finding this one, smiling all the while.

Connor picked up the blazer, shrugging it on, then picked up the small purple handkerchief. The pocket square. Recalling her motions when she’d folded it, Connor imitated, clumsily replicating the pattern. He tucked it into his breast pocket, then looked down at it, dissatisfied. She’d done it better.

Unbidden, his reconstruction software triggered, and he saw her standing in front of him, fussing with the pocket square, attaching the tie clip, and smoothing over his lapels. He could feel the ghost of her hands as he remembered the way she’d looked at him for that electric moment

There. Now you look the perfect gentleman. The reconstruction silently mouthed the words, and Connor heard her voice in his memory.

Then she’d jumped back, flustered. She’d had a similar reaction on several occasions when they’d been close. Like when he’d caught her out of the tree. Every time, she’d avoided his eyes, her heartrate jumping briefly as her cheeks flushed. It was…endearing.

Connor startled himself with the realization, shattering the reconstruction in the process. Was he…attracted to her? That felt…strange. But his thirium pump stuttered then sped up as he remembered the way she’d felt in his arms when he’d comforted her after her nightmare, the warmth of her skin under his hands as he held her under the willow tree, the way her lips had parted as their faces were so close, and for a moment, he’d wanted to close that distance.

Damn it…

He didn’t have time to dwell on it. He could sort that out once she was safe.

He sat down on the bed, pushing away the thoughts, then settled against the headboard, going into standby.

*****

The classroom was loud for a moment, as the students packed up their books. The professor stood silently by his desk, LED blinking a languid blue as he watched them leave. Clara lingered a moment longer, wanting to talk to him. As the last student filed out, she stood, slinging her backpack over one shoulder, then carefully made her way through the desks down to where her professor stood.

Once she was within a few feet, he gave her a gentle smile. “How is your research coming along?”

“Pretty well actually. I found enough studies for my literature review. But it’s not a well-researched topic, so it’ll be brief. Guess I’m one of the forerunners.” She gave him a crooked smile, leaning against the desk.

“That you are,” he chuckled. He reached out, taking her hand gently. “And how are you doing? I know you had a scare last night, with those other students.”

Her face fell, and she half-shrugged. “It could have been worse. At least you were there. Thank you, by the way.”

It was his turn to shrug. “I couldn’t let you get hurt.”

She felt a flash of worry. “But your programming…will you get in trouble for fighting them? What if they tell someone?”

“It’s alright, Ms. Hayes.” He gave her hand a soft squeeze. “They were heavily intoxicated, and it was dark. They will assume they were attacked by another human.”

“I guess that makes sense.” She was quiet for a moment, then pulled her hand away. “Anyway, I need to get to my next class.”

He nodded, posture going rigid. “Yes. You’re right. Good day, Ms. Hayes.”

She gave him a last small smile, then turned to leave. As she approached the door, her professor cleared his throat drawing her attention back.

“Hold on, my dear.” His voice was stiff, almost…cold.

Clara turned around, feeling a spike of alarm. “Yes?”

“When you get the deviants, what will you do with them?” He gave her a peculiar look.

Clara paused, cocking her head. That wasn’t right. She wouldn’t even start the process of getting the deviants for another several months, and she wouldn’t even think about rescuing them until she’s worked with them for a while, nearly a year from now. How would her professor know all that? She hadn’t even mentioned it by that point.

Her head began to ache. How did she herself know all that? The room flickered again around her, looking for a moment like the darkened alley from last night, then brightening to the garden around the willow tree. Before she could latch on to any images, it settled back into the familiar classroom.

Her professor stood by her side, looking at her with concern. “Are you alright, Dr. Hayes?”

She held her hand to her head, closing her eyes for a moment. “But I’m not a doctor yet. I haven’t finished my degree.”

“I apologize, Ms. Hayes.” He put his hand on her shoulder, steadying her. “Now, I need you to concentrate for me. Do you remember the deviants? The ones you worked with?”

She shook her head. “We haven’t done that yet. Why would I remember?” She looked up at him in confusion. “How would you know that?”

His face blurred, looking for a moment like someone else. Someone familiar. Someone she could not trust.

She stumbled back. “This isn’t right. Who are you?”

Her professor’s image faded away, revealing Amanda’s cruel face under the façade. Before Clara could react, the world fragmented around her, leaving her in a white void. What was going on?

*****

Hollister watched as Amanda broke the connection, pulling her hand away from the woman. She turned to face him, frowning.

“Why isn’t it working?” She stalked toward him, stopping a few inches away. “Even as someone she trusts, she still won’t tell me.”

Hollister shrugged, smirking slightly. “You probably aren’t integrating into her memory, and that’s causing her to go on alert. In the middle of her memories, she can’t always tell that she’s being probed, but subconsciously she’ll know when something is wrong if you don’t match with what she remembers. You need to stop triggering that instinct.”

Amanda sighed, bringing her hand up to her face as she closed her eyes for a moment. “When I begin to probe, the memories seem to start somewhere random. Is there a way to control which memory we end up in?”

“Perhaps.” He thought for a moment. “Talking to the unconscious subject about a specific point in time before beginning the probe was somewhat effective in controlling the initial memory in some of our earlier tests with the others.”

She glared up at him. “Why didn’t you mention this sooner?”

“You didn’t ask.” He gave her a half-hearted shrug.

She took a step forward, voice lowering to a dark, sharp edge. “You’re walking a thin line, Dr. Hollister. This is not a game. Do not keep anything else from me. Or I’ll find someone more…cooperative to do your job.”

“Yes, Amanda.” He kept his voice carefully neutral, but underneath that, he felt himself seething. Stupid android bitch.

“Now. Inform me when she’s recovered enough for the next probe.” She whirled around and left the room.

Hollister watched her leave, feeling his face draw down into a glare. He would only take orders from her for so long.

*****

It had already been several days since their failed rescue attempt, and Connor had fallen into his pattern of carefully watching Cyberlife. He’d found a good vantage on top of one of the buildings on the property, but he’d needed to stay moving to avoid the security patrols. He couldn’t afford to be spotted. Not again. He would not fail again.

Carefully, he tapped into the security communications, listening for any changes. He did this a few times an hour, desperate for any hint of what might be happening to Clara. From what he’d gathered, they had at least one agent stationed outside the lab at all times to deter any would-be rescuers.

Periodically, North or Simon would contact him, asking for updates on his progress while they worked with Eli back at the house. Every time, they were disappointed as he gave them disheartening answers. Security was tighter since their initial attempt, so anything they planned would need to be airtight. As things stood, the odds were nearly impossible. Low enough that Connor was unwilling to again risk Clara’s life in the attempt.

He resumed his listening, trying to keep his thoughts focused on the task at hand, pushing away the guilt, despair, and memories that tried to encroach.

*****

The university lab she’d been assigned loomed up around Clara, clean, white, and sterile. Her current participant sat in front of her, face bowed.

“Are you alright?” Clara stepped closer, gripping her clipboard tightly.

The android shook her head. “No. This is too much. You made me recognize all these…all these emotions, made me aware of them, and now you’re just going to send me back? To them? You think they’ll just accept me as I am now?”

“I thought…” Clara hesitated, feeling a spike of guilt. “I thought you loved your owners.”

“I do!” The android looked up at her, eyes full of tears. “Of course I do! But if I start acting on what I feel, they’ll think there’s something wrong with me. And I’ll be reset!” She sighed. “Now that I know what I feel, I can’t not act on it.”

Clara stood silently, unsure of how to approach. The android was right. This was her fault.

“I don’t want to be reset.” The android’s words were soft and miserable. “I want to go back to them, but as I am now. Not as a perfect machine. But they won’t accept it. Because I’m not human.”

The hard edge of the table pressed into Clara’s back as she leaned against it, thinking. This android was expressing similar concerns to the others. Many of them were uncomfortable going back to their owners with their newfound emotional awareness. And could she blame them? But what to do about it.

She looked at the android, a plan forming. “Jinx, after this part of my project is over, when I don’t need you all here anymore, what if we set up a place for you? Somewhere where you could live like normal.”

“Is that even possible?” Jinx looked up at her, hope flickering behind her eyes.

Clara shrugged. “I’m not sure yet. I’ll have to talk to my aunt. She might have an idea.”

“Don’t give me false hope, Clara.” Jinx’s face twisted in despair. “Please don’t put this in front of me only to take it away later.”

She felt a sense of resolve build as she looked at the android. “I’ll figure this out. I promise.”

Jinx looked at her critically for a moment, then nodded. “I trust you.”

“Don’t tell any of the others yet.” Clara hands squeezed the clipboard tighter, beginning to ache with the pressure. “I don’t want word spreading until I have a solid plan.”

“Alright.” Jinx mustered a smile, then walked away, exiting through a door in the corner that led to a storage room, where all Clara’s other participants were being held.

A flicker of motion caught in the corner of her eyes. Her professor pulled away from the wall and began walking toward her. Had he been there the whole time? That didn’t feel right. She usually worked alone when she talked to her participants.

“You promised that android you’d get it out. Why?” His face was carefully neutral.

Clara felt a tinge of disbelief at the question. “They need help. Why wouldn’t I? You should understand. You’re one of them.”

“But where will you take them?” His eyebrows furrowed.

“I don’t know yet.” She shrugged, looking at him suspiciously. “You know I usually talk to them alone. It helps to build trust. Why are you here? I don’t remember you being here.”

As she said the words, the room began to flicker. She looked down at her clipboard, noticing one of her hands was…wrong. Peeking out of the long sleeve of her blazer was a white android hand. She flexed it, staring in confusion.

Slowly, the lab shifted, growing dark and cold, walls growing red and angry, and her clothing began to change. She looked back at her professor, and she noticed his face too began to change as the memory broke apart.

“Damn it,” he hissed, but the words were wrong. It sounded liked two overlapping voices, one male and one female.

Amanda. She was probing again.

Clara glared at the melting illusion, willing the scene back into order. “Get out.”

Amanda glared back. “No. You’re going to tell me what I want to know.”

A spike of white-hot pain spiked in Clara’s head. Her knees buckled, and she fell to the hard floor of the lab. As she raised a hand to her head, she looked back up at the AI. “I’m not telling you anything.”

“Show me where you brought the deviants.” Her voice grew louder, seeming to come from everywhere.

The memory began to flicker, images of Zion’s interior flashing.

“No!” Clara shoved them away, pushing them into the recesses of her mind. “I won’t let you hurt them!”

“Where is the location?” The question came as imperious as a command.

The world began to flicker again, but Clara closed her eyes, steadying herself. She thought of someplace else. Somewhere completely unrelated. Lana’s Place.

The memory shifted, and Clara was sitting at a table at the back of the café. Amanda sat across from her, face drawn into a dangerous expression.

Before she could react, Amanda grabbed a knife from the table and slammed it down through Clara’s hand. It sent a flare of agony through her, and the new memory shattered, leaving them in a white void. Clara cradled her hand to her chest as the pain ebbed.

“Get out of my head,” she hissed, pushing back against Amanda.

“Tell me where they are.”

“Get. out.” As Clara pushed harder, cracks began to snake though the void, emanating outward from around where she stood.

Amanda’s form began to flicker, and her face twisted into a grimace. “Where. are. the. deviants?”

“I’ll never tell you.” She kept her voice strong and steady.

“Just break, damn you!” Amanda’s face morphed into a feral anger as she bared her teeth.

Clara felt a pressure build around her, threatening to crush her. The cracked ground underneath her caved, sending Clara hurtling through a cloud of images. The world spun around her as different sensations, different pieces of memory, assaulted her.

NO!

“GET. OUT!” With the last strength she could muster, Clara sent a hard mental shove against Amanda.

She heard the AI shriek, then the pressure relented. She was alone again.

*****

Connor-60, or Cain, as he called himself, watched as Amanda left the lab. She didn’t even seem to notice him as she walked past. But why would she? He’d done nothing to draw her attention. In fact, he’d shown loyalty in bringing Clara back to the lab. Of course she had no reason to pay attention to him.

Dismissing her, Cain turned back to the lab door and waited. The time slowly ticked away, then eventually, Dr. Hollister too left. As the man passed, Cain sank back into the shadows. He watched the man’s back as he retreated, stifling the urge to snap his neck. All in good time.

After the man was gone, Cain stepped forward, then opened the lab door. Clara lay unconscious on the table, as she had been since he brought her back. He moved to her side, looking her over. Her implants appeared to still be in working order, no doubt repaired by Hollister and the nanodroids after Amanda’s probing. Good.

Cain looked around the lab for any signs of someone watching. Aside from the android hanging on the wall, there was no one. It was in standby, so no threat. He turned his attention back to the woman. Unable to resist the urge, he stroked the soft skin of her cheek, feeling a sort of tenderness rise up inside him. He’d have her soon.

He reached for the strap around her prosthetic arm and carefully undid it. Then, turning to the cabinets, he shuffled through until he found what he was looking for. He pulled out a syringe, then made his way back to her.

“I’ll get you out of here soon, darling,” he whispered, plunging the needle into her shoulder. “Just wake up and do what you need to do. Then we’ll be on our way.”

He pressed a kiss to her temple, then pulled the needle out and tossed it into one of the nearby biohazard bins. With one last lingering look, he left the room, closing the door softly behind him.

*****

Clara opened her eyes to the dark lab, conscious for the first time in who know how long. Her body ached, her head especially. There was a bitter taste in her mouth, not unlike thirium. Maybe it was thirium. As she looked around, a dozen warning’s flickered in the right side of her vision.

///WARNING: SEVERELY DEHYDRATED

///PLEASE CONSUME WATER

///WARNING: LOW BLOOD VOLUME

///WARNING: LOW BODY TEMPERATURE

She groaned, turning her head, willing the warnings away. To her surprise, it worked.

“You’re awake!” A surprised voice sounded in the corner. “You weren’t supposed to wake up!”

Clara turned to look at the broken android still hanging on the wall. Amy.

“What do you mean?” Clara’s voice was hoarse and clumsy from pain and disuse. A dry cough tore through her throat.

“You’re still supposed to be drugged.” The android’s shoulders rose in a half shrug.

“Are you alright?” The android’s words were soft, holding a tinge of worry. “That woman has been in nonstop for days trying to connect with you. It keeps disrupting the implants, so Dr. Hollister has had to make several repairs.”

“Not precisely.” Clara turned away, looking instead down at her restraints. To her surprise, her prosthetic arm was no longer bound. Why?

Clara moved it, feeling a flicker of relief as it moved unconsciously, no unlike her normal arm. She turned her body, working clumsily at the restraint on her other wrist. While she could still perceive pressure and sensations with the prosthetic, everything was muted, not as fine-tuned as she was used to. After a few long minutes of struggling, she worked the other strap off.

She sat up, ignoring the pain that shot through her body, then slumped forward, exhausted. After a moment to catch her breath, she reached forward, working around the strap at her ankle. She loosened it, then slowly turned, throwing her leg over the edge.

And then what?

She couldn’t walk. Couldn’t get away. And Connor’s rescue…

The memories of it were cloudy and disoriented, but she clearly remembered being in his arms, and then being left alone. She remembered the initial hope she’d felt when she’d recognized him, then the crushing despair when she woke back up in the lab.

He wouldn’t be able to come back. And even if he did, it would be too late. Every time Amanda probed, Clara felt her will break a little more, and each successive time, it grew harder to push the AI out. Clara suspected Amanda came at least once a day, but sometimes it felt like more. And while Clara had managed to win out every time, she’d nearly revealed her friends too many times already. She wasn’t sure how much longer she could keep it up.

No.

She couldn’t wait anymore. She couldn’t wait for someone to save her. She needed to end it now while she had a chance. She didn’t know when she’d be awake again, and by that time, it could be too late.

Clara looked around the lab, then spotted the tray of tools. A sharp scalpel lay among them. She shifted toward the end of the table and reached, careful not to overbalance. Her fingers found the sharp blade, and she squeezed it, bringing it close. She shifted it into her android hand and took a deep breath.

Steeling herself, she pressed the blade against the skin of her good arm, near the bend of her elbow, then drove it deep. She cried out a moment at the flare of pain, the watched through teary eyes as her hand dragged the blade down, stopping at her wrist. Blood gushed from the open wound, soaking into Clara’s already-stained shift, and she grew lightheaded. Then, a warning flickered in her vision.

///WARNING: CRITICAL DAMAGE SUSTAINED

///INITIATING REPAIR SEQUENCE…

What? No!

Clara felt a strange crawling sensation under her skin, then an itchy discomfort began to cluster around the cut, and she watched in horror as the blood flow ebbed and eventually stopped. Slowly, it scabbed over as the blood dried faster than it should.

She felt a wave of despair, then frantically tore at the scabs with the scalpel, desperate to reopen the wound. Each time, the cut bled a little more, but not nearly enough to kill her. Eventually she gave up. But her good arm was now a mess of crisscrossing, jagged cuts, and it ached beyond belief.

She felt hot tears roll down her cheeks as she allowed the scalpel to drop to the floor with a soft clink. What had they done to her? She couldn’t even kill herself. A broken sob tore through her chest. How could she fix this? They’d taken away all her options.

“Clara?” Amy’s gentle voice washed over her. “Please don’t cry.”

Clara scoffed, voice constricting. “There’s nothing else to do.”

“The computer.” The android’s voice lit with the idea. “They were using it to modify your arm. Maybe you can use that?”

Clara looked over at the counter. A few cords lay coiled on it. She recognized one as the cord that had been plugged in near the elbow of her prosthetic arm.

An idea worked in her mind. She could erase android memories, so maybe she could do something to her own. Whatever modifications Hollister had made to her had given Amanda access to her head.

Briefly, the faces of her loved ones flickered in her vision. Her parents. Eli. Simon. Abigail. Connor. Her androids.

But…she didn’t want to lose them. She felt a stab of fear. Her memories made her who she was. She’d never be the same without them. All her progress, her knowledge, her joy, everything. It would all disappear.

She would lose them either way. She couldn’t kill herself. And…Amanda was right. If she stayed in the lab, eventually she would break. Then everyone would be in danger. Everything she’d built would be put at risk.

It was the only way.

Clara slowly slipped from the table, lowering herself to the ground. Before she could properly brace herself, her injured arm gave out, and she collapsed to the floor in a heap. She lay there a moment, unable to breathe through the agony that assaulted her body.

“Clara!” Amy’s voice rang out. “Are you alright?”

Not really. But she couldn’t muster the words to say so. She focused instead on maintaining her breathing, focusing on that one sensation while she allowed the others to fade. Once they had died down to manageable levels, she picked her head up, waiting for her vision to stop spinning, then dragged herself across the floor toward the counter.

She looked up at the computer. It seemed impossibly high. Steeling herself, she latched onto one of the drawer handles with her prosthetic arm, then dragged herself into a half-kneeling position. The motion felt awkward, as the hard floor pressed into the ragged end of her missing leg, sending another spike of pain through her. Clara gritted her teeth against it, then reached up, scrabbling for the correct cord. She found it, then pulled it down and plugged it into the small socket at the crook of the elbow.

As it clipped into place, she felt a small surge of electricity from the port that shot up her shoulder and through her head. The sensation made her dizzy, and once again, the room began to spin. Clara shook her head, disoriented, as another notification flickered in her vision.

///INITIALIZING SETUP…

///STANDBY_AWAITING INSTRUCTION…

Good. It was a start.

Clara took another few minutes to catch her breath, trying to tune out the blinking messages in front of her, then she drew herself up onto her good knee, supporting herself with the leg and her injured arm. She could now reach the keyboard and mouse.

Clara tapped a few times on the keyboard and watched as the screen came to life. Hollister hadn’t locked his computer? Idiot. It was still open to whatever program he’d been using to modify her implants.

She navigated around, familiarizing herself with the functions and layout of the program. Then she found it. She clicked, and a message popped up.

Are you sure you wish to proceed?

Clara hesitated a moment, hand shaking as it poised over the keyboard. Was she?

She took a deep breath, then hit enter.

///INITIALIZING MEMORY RESET…

///RESET PROGRESS: 1%

“Clara?” Amy’s voice was heavy with concern.

“I won’t remember you after this. I’m sorry.” Clara carefully lowered herself to the ground, then turned, leaning heavily against the cabinets behind her.

///RESET PROGRESS: 13%

Clara closed her eyes, taking a moment to remember. She went back to her childhood, and those long summers with Abigail and Eli, playing in the willow tree and pulling pranks on their teachers.

///RESET PROGRESS: 28%

She remembered her parents, and the fun they had together before…

Before she lost them. Her father’s eyes sparkled as he read to her, reciting the familiar poem as her mother held her in her arms.

I’m sorry, dad…mom.

///RESET PROGRESS: 41%

She remembered her professor, his kindness and wisdom, the way he’d moved to protect her without hesitation. The quiet nights they’d spent together, working on her research and the plans for Zion. The tender moments they’d shared. She missed him.

///RESET PROGRESS: 59%

It was growing harder to remember. The pieces were starting to slip away. She remembered bright blue eyes, a gentle smile. What was his name? She could remember how she felt around him, safe and comfortable, just a little bit sad. But what was his name?

She’d made him a promise, the last time she’d seen him.

Show me the garden when this is all over? It’s nearly springtime.

She’d never keep that promise.

///RESET PROGRESS: 64%

Warm brown eyes flickered across her mind’s eye. Sometimes they were cold and distant. She remembered the way he felt against her when he held her, when he caught her. He’d protected her…until he hadn’t.

But she cared for him. She’d wanted to save him, to get him away from the people who’d been trying to control him.

And he came back for her. His name was…

It was…

She couldn’t remember.

///RESET PROGRESS: 82%

Clara could barely remember anything now. Where was she? What was she doing here?

She squeezed her eyes shut, desperate to hold onto some remnant of herself.

My name is Clara Hayes, daughter of Amy and Charles Hayes.

She repeated this like a mantra, holding onto the words with feeble hands, trying in vain to keep them from slipping through her fingers like sand.

///RESET PROGRESS: 91%

My name is Clara Hayes, daughter of…

Daughter of…

The faces of her parents faded from memory. She couldn’t see them, could not recall the sounds of their voices or color of their eyes. Nothing remained.

///RESET PROGRESS: 98%

My name is Clara Hayes. My name is Clara Hayes. My name is Clara Hayes. My name is Clara Hayes.

///RESET PROGRESS: 99%

My name is Clar…

///RESET PROGRESS: 100%

My name is…

What’s my name?

///INITIATING RECOVERY PROCEDURE…

///GOODNIGHT

Chapter Text

///REBOOT INITIATED…

///3…

///2…

///1…

///REBOOT SUCCESSFUL…

///MEMORY RESET INCOMPLETE…

///WARNING: MEMORY CORRUPTION

She sat up, blinking away the warnings at the edge of her vision, and drew her hand to her head, but then stopped short. Her arm was a peculiar white color, made up of flexible plastic panels, but it seemed to behave like a human hand. A black cord ran from a small port at her elbow up and over a counter, likely connected to the computer sitting on top. Her other arm was consumed by a sharp, burning ache, and she looked it over, taking stock of the deep lacerations crisscrossing it. She flexed her hand, hissing as the motion sent a shock of pain through her arm and into her shoulder. Her eyes teared up momentarily, but she noted with grim satisfaction that she had no motor control issues. Moving slowly but deliberately, she pulled the cord out of her white arm and tossed it aside, then closed her eyes, waiting for the pain to ebb.

As she sat there, she became aware of a host of other sensations, and warnings flickered in her vision, informing her of her low body temperature, low blood volume, dehydration, and memory corruption. The slew of information overwhelmed her for a moment, causing a spike of panic to course through her. She pushed it away, trying to focus instead on remembering where she was or how she got there.

Nothing. She found nothing. Not even a name. The cold dark room around her loomed menacing and wholly foreign. A dark, nearly dry smearing trail of blood led from a metal table in front of her to where she currently sat, and more dark stains matted the shift she wore, and she could feel it in her hair and skin, an uncomfortable, itching layer of grime.

She felt a dull ache around her right thigh, a remnant of where someone had recently amputated her leg. Why? What had happened? She looked again at the cuts on her forearm. Had they done that too? Had she done something to deserve it?

She looked around, feeling the panic she’d been fighting bubble back up, threatening to spill over. Distantly, she was aware of her heartrate accelerating as her breath grew ragged, and darkness encroached on the edges of her vision as she began to hyperventilate. She felt an invisible hand wrap around her throat, squeezing tight, and for a moment, she couldn’t breath.

“Oh, Clara!” An unfamiliar voice range out suddenly, sounding frantic as it shocked her out of the paralyzing fear. “Are you awake? I can’t see you. Please, say something!”

Clara? Was that her name? It felt…familiar.

“Who’s there?” She coughed the words out through the pain in her throat. Her voice trembled, still influenced by fear. “Who are you?”

“It’s me, Amy.” The voice grew gentle. “Oh, right. You don’t remember. I guess the memory reset worked then.”

“Memory reset? What do you mean?” She tried to remember something, anything.

The answer came softly. “They were trying to get information from you, about the deviants. But you wanted to protect them. You couldn’t kill yourself, so you erased your memory instead.”

Who was trying to get information? And deviants? That felt familiar, but she couldn’t place it. She’d tried to kills herself? She glanced back down at the crisscrossing lines on her forearm. Perhaps that’s where those had come from. They looked deep enough that it should have killed her. Why hadn’t it? As she tried to remember, another thought struck her.

“Am I…was I a bad person? Is that why they did this to me?” Her words came thick as her throat constricted with tears.

“Oh, Clara, no.” The voice was heavy with compassion. “They’re the bad ones. You did nothing wrong.”

She felt a small swell of relief, but it was quickly tamped back down by her lingering fear. She pushed it away and instead looked around for where the voice was coming from, but she saw no one. “Where are you?”

“You won’t be able to see me from where you’re sitting.” Amy fell silent for a moment. When she spoke again, her voice was serious. “But that doesn’t matter. Someone is coming. You need to hide!”

Clara fought hard against the panic, pushing it to the edge of her mind, then looked around. She saw a dark corner with a large, tall cabinet. Maybe she’d fit there. She turned her body, dragging herself forward toward it. It was a slow, painful process, and she felt the scabs on her forearm tear in a few places, sending a sharp stinging feeling through her. A cold sweat broke out on her skin with the exertion, but eventually, she made it. She tugged against the cabinet door, pulling it open. A few lab coats lay hanging at the top, along with a few pairs of non-slip lab shoes. She shoved them aside, then hoisted herself into the cabinet, where leaned into the corner, tucking her leg up in front of her, then pulled the door shut with a click.

A few long minutes later, she heard the door to the lab slam open, then frantic footsteps entered.

“Where are you, you little bitch?!” A deep man’s voice echoed around the room.

She felt a spike of primal fear, and the hair on the back of her neck stood on end. Her breath caught in her throat, heartrate growing erratic. She covered her mouth with her hand, stifling any sound, then squeezed her eyes shut.

It grew quiet for a moment, and she could hear the sound of a keyboard tapping, then the footsteps resumed.

“Clara…” His voice took on a sing-song quality. “Where are you hiding? Come on out. I won’t hurt you.”

The footsteps drew closer to the cabinet. She felt tears prick at her eyes, as her heart jumped to her throat, causing her head to pound.

“Are you over here?”

She heard a nearby cabinet open, then close.

The footsteps drew closer.

“How about here?” Another cabinet opened and closed.

The footsteps stop right outside her cabinet. Her heart stopped.

The door to the cabinet opened, blinding her for a moment, then a shadow stood in the doorway. A tall blond man stared down at her, face twisted in rage.

“There you are,” he hissed, then he reached into the cabinet, wrapping his hand around her injured arm in a vise-like grip.

She began to thrash, desperate to get away. “Let me go! Let me go!”

She tried to pry his fingers away with her white hand, but it was to no avail. He effortlessly pulled her from the cabinet, dragging her harshly across the floor. Her knee cracked against the hard concrete, sending a spike of agony through her leg.

“How did you get out?” He growled the words, glaring down at her.

She still worked at his hand, choking back her frantic tears, then her fingers wrapped around his pinkie finger. She gripped it tight, then jerked it back with a crack. The man released, her howling. He cradled his hand, groaning through bared teeth, then turned a baleful gaze on her.

“You shouldn’t have done that.” His voice was low and dangerous. He took a slow step toward her. “You erased your memory. That was the only thing that made you valuable. Now you’re worthless.”

He cocked his head, taking another step forward. “But now there’s nothing left you can tell us, so I can do whatever I want with you.”

She felt goosebumps erupt on her skin, as the air began to crackle, electric with dread. She scrambled away, sobbing and desperate, and dragged herself toward a desk by the wall. Maybe if she could hide under it…

She felt a hand clamp around her ankle, and she was yanked away. A shriek tore through her, but it quickly died to a choking cough as the man’s foot crashed into her ribs. She slid across the floor a few inches with the impact. Breathless, she curled into a ball, covering her head as another blow landed.

A clawing hand grabbed the wrist of her white arm, pulling hard. The action caused the skin of her shoulder where the prosthetic attached to tear. She felt something pull where the arm connected, sending claws of agony into her shoulder and up her neck. She cried out as the pain caused her sight to go red. She felt something warm spill from the open wound, and another warning flashed in her vision. The man’s other hand wrapped around her throat, choking off her scream, and she was dragged to up, high enough that she couldn’t touch the ground. The man crushed her against the wall, then shoved his vile face into hers.

“I’m going to make you suffer,” he hissed. “And then…I’m going to kill you.”

He released her wrist, allowing the prosthetic to dangle limply at her side, and brought his hand up, tangling it in her hair, then dragged her over to a table, where he lifted her easily, despite her squirming, and slammed her down onto the hard surface. She felt the breath whoosh out of her lungs at the impact. He pinned her with his body, bringing one of her wrists down, where he strapped it tightly with a leather band.

“NO!” She struggled against him, desperate to get away. Tears streamed from her eyes, blurring her vision as she thrashed and squirmed.

“Hold still, you stupid brat.” He growled the words through clenched teeth.

“Please,” she pleaded, choking the words out. “Stop!”

Not bothering with her limp, useless prosthetic, he brought another strap across her shoulders, strapping it likewise, then stood back, chest rising and falling as he panted slightly. His hands lingered on her skin, sending a sick crawling feeling through her, and he stared at her for a moment, face working with a strange expression. She watched paralyzed as he looked her up and down, his eyes glinting dangerously. Then he turned away, moving toward where a table of tools lay. He inspected them, bringing a few up to catch the light as he slowly turned them.

He was trying to scare her, she realized. He enjoyed her fear. Her despair.

Then, he settled on a small drill. He turned back to her, then languidly stalked over.

“You have such a pretty face,” he said. “It’s almost a shame to ruin it.”

He flicked the switch on the tool, and the air filled with a whirring sound. She felt paralyzed as he watched him bring it closer to her.

The door to the lab swung open again, crashing into the wall.

“Dr. Hollister,” a soft masculine voice said. “Step away from her.”

The man, Hollister, froze for a moment, then closed his eyes as his jaw clenched with barely contained rage. He turned toward the door.

“Get out of here, you plastic bastard. You have no reason to be here.” Hollister’s voice was tight, and she could see the tendons in his hands bulge as he gripped the drill.

“On the contrary,” the other man said. “I have every reason to be here. You have something of mine.”

Hollister scoffed. “Just give me a reason. I’ve been waiting to crush your stupid face since the moment I first met your model. Just give me the reason I need.”

Clara heard a set of footsteps approach slowly, then saw another form from behind the big man in front of her. He was tall and slender, with neatly combed brown hair. He wore a grey uniform with a glowing band of blue around one arm, and a bright blue triangle on one side. RK800 was printed on the front in big letters. Most alarming perhaps were the spatters of blood dotting the jacket, the red standing out starkly against the white of his shirt.

“Funny.” The new man’s voice grew dark and dangerous. “I’ve been waiting for a reason too. Looks like I found mine.”

The man lunged forward, knocking the drill from Hollister’s hand, then he hooked an foot around his ankle, moving almost too fast to see.

Hollister was knocked off balance, and he collapsed to the floor in a heap. The new man grabbed a sharp knife from the tray, then quickly plunged it into Hollister’s gut, once, twice, three times. He wrapped a hand around his throat, then drew Hollister close. Clara heard a soft whisper as the new man said something to Hollister, but she couldn’t make out the words. Then, in a smooth motion, he drew the blade across Hollister’s throat, opening a red, gushing wound. Hollister let out a wet, gurgling moan, then his eyes slipped shut.

With a look of disgust, the man cast the body aside, then turned to her. She stared in horror as he approached, his hands drenched in blood, the embers of rage still flickering behind his eyes. As if catching her expression, his face fell briefly, and he looked down at his hands. He turned back to the body, then wiped his hands clean on Hollister’s lab coat. When he turned back to her, he wore a gentle smile.

“It’s alright, darling.” He spoke softly, holding his now-spotless hands out in a placating gesture. “My name is Cain. I’m not going to hurt you.”

She noticed a yellow light at his temple that blink languidly for a moment, then turned blue. He was an android. RK800 was his model number. The thought sprang unbidden to her mind. How did she know that?

“I’m going to undo your restraints, alright?” He stepped closer, moving to stand beside her. Then with gentle fingers, he unbuckled the straps around binding her, then slowly helped her sit up.

“Did he hurt you?” He gazed at her with warm brown eyes, looking her over.

She stared at him for a moment, unsure, then slowly, she nodded. Her face crumpled as she began to sob. She hunched forward, wrapping her lacerated arm around herself. She still couldn’t make the prosthetic one move from where it dangled limply at her side, tugging painfully at the tear in her shoulder.

She felt a pair of gentle arms wrap around her as Cain pulled her close. “Shhh, darling. You’re safe now. He’ll never touch you again.” He brought one hand up to gently stroke her tangled hair. “I’ve got you. Shhhh.”

She buried her face against his shoulder, unable to stop the tears rolling down her cheeks. He held her patiently, making soothing noises as he stroked her back lightly. She felt his chin drop against the top of her head as he pulled her closer.

The sensation felt strangely familiar, as if she’d been here before. Did she know this man? He seemed to know her. As she sat there in his arms, she felt her panic begin to dissipate, then after a few moments, her sobs quieted, and she pulled away, looking at the man through swollen eyes, and feeling calmer than she had since waking up. Briefly, another warning flickered in her vision.

///WARNING: SEVERELY DEHYDRATED

She blinked it away. As the adrenaline drained from her body, she began to grow dizzy, and a heavy blanket of exhaustion settled over her. Blackness creeped in at the edges of her vision, but she pushed it back, determined to stay awake.

Cain remained close to her, looking her over. His eyes drew down to the angry lines crisscrossing her left wrist, and he tutted quietly as he grabbed her arm, taking a closer look.

“You shouldn’t have done that, silly girl.” He moved away, stepping casually over Hollister’s body, careful to avoid the blood, then pulled open a cabinet. He shuffled through it, then turned back toward her with a roll of gauze in his hands.

She watched frozen as he slowly approached again.

“I’m going to wrap your arm,” he said, gesturing with the gauze. “Alright?”

She nodded wordlessly, then watched as he tenderly covered her cuts with the bandage. Satisfied that it was sufficiently wrapped, he moved to her other shoulder. She watched as he carefully lifted the sleeve of her shift, rolling it up past her shoulder. Through the mix of blue and red blood, she could see a tangled mess of wires and torn flesh. A strange crawling sensation worked under her skin around the wound, mixing uncomfortably with the pain already present.

Cain’s brows drew down into a frown as he analyzed the tear, and he pursed his lips, lightly brushing his fingers around the wound. The touch sent another shoot of pain through her, and she whimpered slightly.

He glanced at her, giving her an apologetic smile, then turned back to her shoulder. “This is less than ideal. I don’t have time to repair this fully. Hopefully the nano-androids will take care of most of the damage.”

He grabbed another roll of bandages and set about wrapping her shoulder. Then, he made a makeshift sling to support the arm and keep it from continuing to pull at her damaged shoulder. Once he was done, his hand lingered on her arm, and he looked at her again.

“What do you remember?” His voice was soft and curious.

She wracked her brain for a moment, desperate for any recollection of who she was or how she got here. But there was nothing. The last thing she could remember was waking up on the floor. She looked back at him, shaking her head.

“Why are you helping me?” Her words held a tremor as she looked at him distrustfully. “How do I know you’re not trying to trick me?”

He threw his head back, letting out a feral laugh, then turned his mirthful, dancing eyes back on her. “Clever as always, little goose, even like this.”

The response sent a chill down her spine, and she looked at him with a newfound wariness.

Then he grew serious. “But no tricks this time. We had a deal. You took care of your end, now I’m taking care of mine.”

He took her hand in his, then looked into her eyes. “Now. Do you trust me?”

She met his strange brown gaze, searching for any hint of dishonesty, any sign of a lie, but…she found none. And what better options did she have? He’d made no move to harm her so far. In fact, he’d done a lot to help her. A small swell of caution prodded at her. She had no memories to work from, but her instincts were still there. And they told her to be careful with this man. While his actions had been for her, she could not be sure of his intentions. She would need to stay alert.

Slowly, she nodded. “I do.”

“Good.” His lips quirked again into a smile, and she saw his eyes flood with a triumphant darkness.

Her breath caught in her throat for a moment as she felt a flicker of fear. Who was this man? But she couldn’t take it back. Not if she wanted to get out of here.

She broke the gaze, eyes instead lighting on the body next to them. The man she’d been so afraid of now lay discarded in a puddle of his own blood, easily and brutally managed by Cain. This was the person she was relying on.

“Ignore him, darling. He’s dead.” Cain’s hand brushed against her jaw as he turned her face back to look at him. He leaned toward her, and she felt his warm lips brush against her skin as he pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. He lingered for a moment while she sat there frozen, then pulled away.

“Let’s go.” He pulled her into his arms, then carried her toward the door.

As they left, she remembered the voice that had called out to her, warning her about Hollister’s approach.

“Wait,” she said.

Cain froze, looking down at her.

“What about Amy?” She pointed back toward the lab.

“Who’s Amy?” He quirked an eyebrow at her.

“I—I don’t know. But she helped me.” She looked back at the door. ”We can’t leave her behind.”

He issued a long sigh, closing his eyes for a moment as the light at his temple flashed briefly yellow. “Of course you’d say that,” he muttered. “How very Clara. Even without a memory, you still have that sense of righteous morality. Leave no android behind and all that. Even though that’s what got you into this mess in the first place.”

She felt a flicker of confusion. What was he talking about?

He opened his eyes again, gazing at her with a peculiar expression. “But I suppose that’s part of what makes you so…enchanting.”

She looked at him cautiously, waiting for him to continue.

He sighed again. “I can’t carry you both, darling. You’re my priority. I’ll come back for Amy later.”

Before she could protest, Cain stepped out of the lab and headed for the hallway.

As Clara looked around, she could see several more bodies littering the floor. Many of them were men in some sort of black and white armor. Some lay in puddles of blood, other’s just had their necks and limbs twisted at severe angles. One of them was a woman with tan skin and long, dark hair. A clipboard lay at her side, white pages spattered red, and her shirt was stained with the dark blood that spread out beneath her. There was a deep, gaping wound in the woman’s chest, and her eyes stared sightlessly ahead, a small stream of blood leaking from her mouth.

When had this happened? In the lab, they’d heard nothing to indicate the massacre happening right outside the door.

“Don’t concern yourself with the fodder, darling.” Cain glanced down at her, smiling. “They’re gone. They can’t hurt you anymore.”

Clara felt a flicker of dread as she stared up at the man holding her. Who was he?

*****

It was dark outside. Connor had been watching the Tower for several days now already, but he had learned nothing. He’d seen no indication that they’d successfully learned Zion’s location from Clara, which at least was a relief. He trusted that the RK800 would at least keep her alive, so he tried to not think about the possibility of her being dead.

As he watched, he noticed an increase in the agents roaming around the courtyard. They shouted frantically, gesturing to each other. Startled, Connor tapped into their communication network.

“…subject was taken by a rogue RK800 model. Orders are to destroy the android on sight but keep the subject alive. Use any means necessary.”

Connor’s thirium ran cold with shock. The other RK800 had made no move to rescue her before, so…what had changed?

As he looked down, he watched a civilian vehicle hurtle through the courtyard, busting through the gate before it had a chance to fully close. He recognized it as Clara’s car, which had been left behind in his own failed attempt. What that their escape plan?

He watched as the other agents scrambled to get into their own vehicles, attempting to pursue. Several carried large black bags. Weapons?

If they were truly escaping, maybe this was an opportunity. Connor rushed down to the bottom of the building and climbed into his own vehicle, borrowed from Eli. He pursued the other vehicles from a discrete distance, still keeping in touch with their communications. They were herding the vehicle toward one of the warehouses.

Connor memorized the coordinates then took his own more direct route there. He hid the car in another nearby warehouse, then found a good vantage. The gun Eli had given him lay heavy at his side where it was strapped. He touched it briefly, reassuring himself, then waited. After a few moments, Clara’s car peeled into the warehouse courtyard and came to a stop. Connor watched anxiously, waiting for the doors to open.

But they didn’t. Why?

As he moved to approach, the Cyberlife vehicles came in, surrounding the car. Carefully, Connor disappeared back into the shadows. Several agents scurried out, guns at the ready as they surrounded the vehicle. One stepped forward, opening the car door. From where he stood, Connor could see the car was…empty.

The agents seemed just as confused as they scattered, searching the warehouse. But Connor knew they would find nothing.

Connor breathed a quiet laugh. Bait and switch. So simple, yet so brilliant.

And even he had fallen for it. And now there was no way of knowing how or if they’d really gotten out, let alone where they may have gone. An effective strategy that Connor couldn’t help but admire.

As he made his way back to the car, the admiration drained away, leaving a sense of dread to build in its place. Clara was out of Cyberlife’s hands, but was the other RK800 really better? What if he hurt her too?

No. Connor couldn’t let himself think about that right now. He needed to get back and tell the others. Then they’d figure it out. If they were fortunate, Clara would get a message to them, and then they’d get her back.

*****

Light flooded through the crack in the curtain, blinding her for a moment. As she drew into consciousness, she became aware of a host of sensations. She was laying on a soft surface, with a warm blanket atop her. She felt a dull ache at the top of her hand and looked to see a needle protruding. A thin red tube ran up to where a bag of blood hang from a metal hook. Looking down at herself, she saw she was in a clean shirt. She noticed her hair was no longer tangled and matted, but instead clean and pulled back into a tight braid.

A clean bandage wrapped around her injured forearm, and the end of her right thigh had also been cleaned and redressed. In fact, her whole body felt clean, with no trace of the grime and dirtiness from whatever had happened to her at the lab.

No warnings flashed in her vision, so whatever had happened between her passing out during the rescue and waking up here had taken care of much of the damage. Though she was still in pain, it was now a distant thing, dulled enough to be ignored, much less intense than she would have expected given how she’d felt at the lab. She wondered if she’d been given something while she’d been unconscious to lessen it.

She moved her prosthetic, relieved to see it once again responded to her like a normal limb would. She rolled the sleeve of her shirt up, inspecting the spot where it meshed with her skin. The tear from where Hollister had pulled it was nearly invisible now, aside from some scabbing along the seam. Someone, probably Cain, had repaired it while she was out, and it was nearly back to how it had been before Hollister had attacked her.

Clara continued scanning the room. While it didn’t look like a hospital, there were several beeping machines around her like you would find in one. One was a heartrate monitor, likely connected with the clip on one of her fingers, and another appeared to be controlling the blood transfusion.

In the corner of the room, she spotted a motionless figure. Cain. He sat in a chair with his arms folded across his chest. His eyes were closed as if sleeping. The light at his temple glowed a steady blue. Was he…asleep?

She stared at him for a moment longer. He felt so familiar, but she couldn’t place it. As she stared at him, she felt the flicker of a memory. An image flashed of a different hospital room. He’d sat in a chair similar to how he was now, watching her. It disappeared as quickly as it came, leaving her with more questions.

“Cain?” She called out to him with a soft voice, hesitant to wake him.

The android’s eyes flickered open, and he looked at her. A small smile pulled at his lips. “Yes, darling?”

“Where…are we?” She looked around again for anything even remotely familiar, but there was nothing.

“Somewhere safe.” He drew to his feet then slowly approached her. Something strange and unfamiliar flickered behind his eyes.

She didn’t answer, instead scanning the room once again, looking for anyone else. She saw no one. They were alone.

“Where’s Amy?” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Did you get her out too?”

For a nearly imperceptible moment, he hesitated, then smiled. “I did. She’s somewhere else.”

“Where?” She cocked her head at him, watching closely for his reaction.

“Does it matter?” He half shrugged.

“Of course it matters!” Her face drew down into a glare.

He stared at her for a moment, then his lips quirked into a smirk. “There’s that selfless instinct. Always more worried about others than yourself.” He sighed, closing his eyes for a moment. “She’s in a secure repair center. She’ll be fine.”

She watched him closely, noticing his LED flash yellow briefly. Was he…lying? She narrowed her eyes, but didn’t press the subject.

He held her gaze with an air of self-assured confidence, then chuckled, shaking his head as he looked away.

One of the machines beeped, drawing Cain’s attention. He walked over, looking at it. “You’re transfusion’s done.”

Without another word, he left the room for a few moments then came back with a small first aid kit. He sat down on the edge of the bed next to her, then balanced the kit on his lap. He opened it, pulling out a wrapped package of gauze, then tore it open. He held the gauze pad in one hand, then gently took hers in his other. After carefully placing the gauze over where the needle lay, he pulled it out, then pressed firmly to stop the flow of blood and set the needle aside. With efficient movements, he finished dressing her hand, then collected the needle and mostly empty blood bag, disappearing out of the room with them.

After a few minutes he came back, this time carrying a steaming mug. He sat down again on the edge of her bed, then held the mug out to her.

“What is it?” she asked, cautiously taking it with both hands.

“Broth.” He offered her a smile. “You’re probably hungry, and your body needs nutrients. You’ve been kept alive by the nano-androids in your system, but you’ll begin to deteriorate more if you don’t take care of yourself.”

“Oh.” She looked down at it, feeling a small wave of nausea. She pushed it down, then forced herself to take a small sip. It was warm and salty, but very plain, which was probably for the best.

She placed the mug in her lap, appreciating the way its warmth spread into her hand. She realized she could detect the heat with her prosthetic, but it wasn’t quiet the same as her other. She considered his words quietly, trying to ignore his gaze on her. He’d mentioned nano-androids. She didn’t think they were ready for human use. Then another thought jolted her.

“Cain?” She looked up at the android, voice trembling a little. “Am I…human? Or am I…like you? An android.”

A glint of amusement flickered in his eyes, but he answered. “Perhaps something in between.” He gently brushed his fingers against the back of her white hand. “ You’re still mostly human, but they changed you. You have little microscopic androids inside you, and your arm—” He slid his hand up to her elbow. “—your eye—” He raised his hand to her right cheek, brushing his thumb gently against the skin under her eye. “—and some things inside your head, those are all more like an android.”

“Oh.” She turned her face away, unsure of how to respond.

“And,” he continued, “when I’ve finished your prosthetic leg, that’ll be more like an android too.”

She flicked her eyes back toward him, feeling a twinge of surprise. “You’re making a me a leg?”

He nodded. “You’re no fun if you can’t walk.” His tone held a hint of joking, and his lips twitched again into a smile. It faded after a few moments, and he grew serious again. “Now, finish your broth. You’ll need your strength.”

His hand lingered on her leg, thumb stroking soothingly back and forth, as he watched, making sure she drained every last drop. As she handed him the empty mug, strange exhaustion settled over her. Her hand dropped to her side, and she tried to move her limbs, but they wouldn’t obey. Horrified, she looked at Cain.

“You…drugged me?” she muttered, struggling to stay conscious. “Damn you…”

“It’s for your own good. You won’t want to be awake for this.” He leaned forward, kissing her cheek softly. “Goodnight, darling. I promise you’ll feel better when you wake up.”

*****

It was past midnight when Connor pulled into the driveway of Clara’s house, then sat in the park car, gathering his thoughts. He felt the now-familiar, yet still unpleasant, sting of failure. He’d returned to the Tower to confirm that the other RK800 had gotten away, but he could find no more information or indication of where he would have gone. He could have taken Clara anywhere by now.

Connor slumped forward, leaning his head against the steering wheel. What could he do at this point but wait? Unless Clara could contact him, which he doubted would be possible given the other RK800’s obsession with her, he would need to scour every inch of the city searching for her. But if she wasn’t in the city…

No. She was badly injured. The other RK800 wouldn’t have risked her life trying to get her somewhere else. They had to be here.

Connor turned to the door, pushing it open. He moved slowly, hesitant to update the others on what had happened. He didn’t know if he could stand to have them angry at him too. He was already angry enough at himself.

As he moved toward the steps leading to the door, a small box by the door caught his attention. Connor felt a jolt, then rushed up the steps toward it. It was like the previous one. Unaddressed, no fingerprints, just plain and nondescript.

He picked it up, weighing it in one hand. Should he give it to Eli? Or should he open it himself?

He went back and forth for a moment, then came to a decision. He tore the tape carefully then opened the box. Inside was another sheet of heavy white cardstock, but this time, no printed words marred the perfect surface. Connor picked it up, looking it over. Like before, this one bore no fingerprints or anything to indicate that a human wrote it, confirming his suspicion. This was meant for him, a taunt by the other RK800.

Connor analyzed the card, again finding traces of blue blood formed into the same elegant cursive handwriting as the previous. He read through it, feeling a building sense of dread.

And so the little goose forgot all about the cowardly knight who’d abandoned her, choosing instead to trust herself to the care of another.

You had your chance, and you squandered it. I hope this gift offers some consolation.

Connor set the note aside, looking again in the box. Inside, he found a smaller box made of the same black material as the one that had held Clara’s hand.

Connor reached in with a trembling hand and drew it out. He pulled the lid off slowly, afraid of what he’d find. As he looked within, he nearly dropped the box in horror, his thirium pump stuttering. His legs went weak, and he stumbled, catching himself against the side of the house.

Inside the box lay a human heart, soaked with fresh blood.

Connor couldn’t look away, frozen for a moment. Surely it wasn’t…the other RK800, he couldn’t have…wouldn’t have…

But Connor had to know. He had to be sure.

He dipped a finger in the blood, collecting it on the tip. For a moment, he just stared at it, paralyzed. Then, with a slow, shaking hand, he brought it to his mouth to analyze it.

The results flashed in his mind, and his legs went weak, dropping out from under him. The box slipped from his fingers, heart and blood spilling out of it, staining the concrete of the porch.

The taste of Clara’s blood still flooded his mouth, and his sensors bombarded him with information, reminding him over and over whose heart it was.

He was vaguely aware of the front door opening as Simon stepped out. The android crouched in front of him, face twisted with worry as he said something to Connor that he couldn’t understand.

He couldn’t hear over the sound of his own pump in his ears. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the dark puddle still spreading, and the thing that lay within it.

He could only think of the last time he’d seen her, delirious and pale in that stairwell, begging him not to go.

This was all his fault.

A distant warning flashed in his vision, alerting him to his rising stress.

///STRESS LEVEL: 99%

///INITIATING EMERGENCY SHUTDOWN

///SHUTDOWN IN 00:03…

///00:02…

///00:01…

///00:00…

///SHUTTING DOWN…

///PLEASE STAND BY…

Chapter Text

///INITIATING REBOOT…

///3…

///2…

///1…

///REBOOT SUCCESSFUL…

///RUNNING DIAGNOSTIC…

///ALL SYSTEMS NORMAL…

Connor slowly slipped back into consciousness, pulled by the alerts flashing across his mind. He opened his eyes to find himself laying on the bed of the guest room that Clara had given him. Simon sat in the corner with his eyes closed, but he opened them when he heard Connor stir.

Connor sat up, then dropped his head into his hands, wishing he were still asleep. He didn’t want to face reality, not after…

“Are you alright?” Simon had moved from the chair and was now kneeling at his side. “You worried us when you went into shut down like that.”

Connor shook his head, then looked at Simon, eyes tearing up. “The other RK800, he has Clara. He…cut her heart out.”

Simon’s eyes grew wide, and he stumbled back, stunned. “What?”

“The heart.” Connor’s voice came out a hoarse groan. “It’s Clara’s. I tested the blood.”

Simon shook his head. “That can’t be right. I thought you said he’d protect her. Why would he do that?”

Connor shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Oh.” Simon fell silent, face twisting in despair, then he looked back up at Connor, exhausted. “Well, we should find Eli and North. They’ve been waiting for you to wake up too. So you can tell us what exactly happened at the Tower.”

“Alright.” Connor felt a deep exhaustion sink over him, numbing the the turbulent emotions. “I’ll meet you guys in the dining room. I just…” He looked away, feeling a flood of shame. “I need a minute.”