Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Detroit was duly quiet after the revolution. No one would have thought that just a few days ago, thousands of androids were tearing through the street of this city. The wind flew between the windows carefully examining snow-covered roads and abandoned houses. He did so with great precision, as if looking for someone he could disturb a little. Eventually it seemed to find someone. In a corner of a long-abandoned building sat a huddled android under the stairs. Although he didn't feel the cold like humans, he trembled at the wind blowing in through the broken window. The thirium in his veins flowed a little slower than he preferred, and critical temperature notifications popped up on the interface. He curled up more into himself and covered himself with part of the curtain he found. It wasn't soft like he liked; its touch caused something like pain. It was as if tiny needles glided across his skin whenever he moved.

Who would have thought that this android even before the revolution could sleep in the Cyber Life Tower. He always had the option of looking into a technician or taking an extra bottle of blue blood to make up for minor deficiencies. He regretted taking such thoughtless advantage of this at the time, now he would give anything to curl up by the charger in warm white rooms, drink warm thirium and know that the next day there would be a new task to complete. A tear flew down his cheek. The interface reminded him that the cold liquid would cause his cheeks to freeze. With a quick movement, he wiped his face.

Another notification appeared on his interface, but this time he accepted it with joy in his heart. Incoming call.

-Hey kid! How's it going in New Jericho?

Connor did his best to adopt as mechanical a voice as possible, just making sure he wasn't shivering from the cold.

-It's great, Hank. Everyone is very nice and helpful,” he lied, and it came easily. No one in Jericho was nice and helpful, he remembered the horrible stares and even death threats from other androids when he came there for a while. But that was his fault, he could have defied his program before he guided the humans to Jericho. So many androids died because of him. Hank is probably angry too, he just deftly hides it. He hated him, he was sure of it. He was angry when he shot those Traci at the Eden Club. Now that so many androids had died because of him, he was certainly angry.

-Good to hear it, son - he said, and in his voice Connor could hear a smile, -But I have to drag you away from your colleagues, drink your beer or whatever it is you androids drink while celebrating and come to the station.

-Did something happen, Hank?- Connor was concerned even though the lieutenant was clearly happy

-Oh a lot has happened!- he said, and Connor's stress rose from 60% (consistently at that level lately) to 76%- I persuaded Fowler to let you go back to work. For now as an unpaid intern, but when the situation with android rights stabilizes, you have a guaranteed warm job. How's that?

[Stress 50%]

-I'll be there in 20 minutes....

-I can take you if you want, I happen to be next to the tower

[Stress 80%] [Self-destruct warning] [Critically low temperature warning].

-No, go to the station, still want to talk to Markus

-Oh- Hank seemed a bit disappointed with Connor's answer, but immediately quickly continued- Sure kid, just don't romance him too long. I've got a present for you-I'll meet you at the station.

He hung up, leaving Connor with a puzzled look on his face. An affair with Markus? Certainly not. Markus hated him too. After all, Connor wanted to murder him and then destroy something he had built so long and intensely. Markus didn't want to see him. So did the rest of Jericho.

Connor got up from the wooden ground and shrugged. He looked at himself in the fragment of the broken mirror. He arranged his hitherto disheveled hair. He looked in the interface also at his bank account, he still has leftover money for a taxi to the station. He took another look at himself. He looked pretty neat for someone who had spent the last few days on the street, He just prayed in his spirit to RA9 that no one would ask about his slightly too disheveled hair even after arranging it with his hands.

The cab was warm and he almost fell asleep in the passenger seat enjoying the almost homely warmth. He pretended it was the fireplace in Hank's house and his legs were not so heavy from the cold and because of SUmo sitting on his lap. Through the lack of traffic, however, his journey and reverie did not last long. He got off and once again shuddered in the cold. He only hoped that the station would be at least a little as warm as the interior of the cab. For a moment he wondered if he wanted to hack it and ride inside it for the next few days. He forgot that thought as quickly as it came when he saw Hank coming out to greet him. It could have been a bug in the system, but when he saw the older man. Could people radiate heat over such distances? He made a note to check it later.

Hank approached him with open arms and hugged him. The man would have already gotten bruises, but Connor just basked in the warmth of the man.

-O fuck- cursed the lieutenant grabbing Connor's shoulders- why are you so cold?

[Stress 80%] [Self-destruct warning].

-I decided to walk some more- the lie left his mouth again with ease

-Fucking androids...-he shook his head- you are freezing Con. Come on, you'll warm up at the station

Hank put his hand on Connor's back, slightly pushing him towards the police department

-He hates this fucking place- he muttered as they entered the station- let's get this done quickly, because he wants to go home

The police station was exactly as Connor remembered it, but with fewer personnel. The ANdroids so far charging at the wall opposite - were gone. Connor almost fell down seeing the vacant charging ports. Hank seemed not to notice this, too happy to lead Connor to the Captain's office. He checked the battery status some more.

[20% charge] [16h remaining].

He had high hopes that they would still allow him to recharge at the station. His post-deviation processes had begun to consume far more batteries than before, and the cold didn't help. Hank pushed his way into the office.

Fowler wasn't wearing his usual shirt. A hoodie and dark jeans. Connor hastily scanned him. His stress levels were at a surprisingly low level for the situation and the wrinkle between his eyebrows. They sat down at the desk. COnnor tried to hold himself as straight as he could, looking almost like a machine.

-Connor- began without further ado Fowler- probably Hank has already told you everything, but to make it official. Because of your merits...

The word “merits” echoed in his skull. Merits for the extermination of part of his species. Merits for threatening the life of its leader. Merits for being a threat. He felt Hank's hand on his shoulder.

-You're happy, son,‖ he asked with a smile, but seemed at the same time troubled by Connor's silence. Apparently, through his reverie, he did not hear the rest of the captain's statement.

-Very- he smiled- When can we start?
-Next week, I want you to still rest after the revolution- he said, and Connor felt as if someone had placed a stone on his internal wiring. It was Tuesday, which meant at least six days of sleeping on the streets and wandering aimlessly. He would have begged for a quicker return to work if it hadn't worried Hank. The older man seemed happy about it, however.

-Super, you'll have more time to go out with the other androids,‖ he laughed, Connor also smiled.

-Well,‖ he said quietly turning to Fowler again, -I haven't had time to recharge, could I use the station chargers?

-I have to leave right away, you have 20 minutes

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

20 minutes on the charger meant 3% extra. It wasn't much, he could still work for another 16h before shutting down his systems. He didn't want to shut down. Maybe if he kept his functions to a minimum he would last 6 days, but without additional system heating, he would freeze.He didn't want to die, he didn't want to shut down. He nodded and left the office. He tried not to look like he was running Hank ran after him. He tried to control his trembling hands as he plugged the charging cable into the port on his neck. Hank leaned on the desk in front of him.

-Will you want to get back to your buddies right away, or will you give the old man some attention?

Connor smiled slightly. Hank certainly didn't have a charging port in his house, but at least he would be warm. And he would be Sumo. He wanted to pet him again. He remembered stroking him when he was still a machine. That was probably his only pleasant memory from that time. After that, he had only one memory cataloged as pleasant. An evening spent with Hank and Sumo at his house. Watching documentaries about underwater life and Hank complaining about how boring the movie was.

-I will gladly stay with you, Lieutenant- he said and kicked his frozen memory chips. After all, just a moment ago Hank told him to call him by his first name. however, the man only laughed and shook his head.

-You'll never learn that, will you?

It took exactly 13 minutes and 28 seconds before Fowler came out of the office and not very politely threw in that they should “get the fuck out because he has to go now.” Connor had completely forgotten how inaccurate people were in giving the time. He had 22%. Not much, and Hank certainly didn't have a charger. Had he thought of that before?

As he unplugged from the charger, he and Hank headed for the car.
Connor closed his eyes.

[Stress 70%]

Chapter Text

He was greeted at the door by Sumo. He immediately pounced on them as if he hadn't seen them in months. His tail danced so fast that his limited resources for capturing visual information meant he only saw the fuzzy shape of Sumo's tail path. He patted it on the head before walking deeper into the house. Hank hung his jacket on the hanger and extended his hand to accept Connor's jacket as well. He didn't want to give it back to him, it was still too cold, but he didn't want to worry Hank, so he obediently handed the coat back to him.

-Good now a little surprise- Hank smiled at Connor before entering the kitchen- I was in New Jericho a while after the revolution. Terribly sad you have there, especially in the rooms. Everything white and sterile... I know it's stupid, but....

Hank handed him a plush blanket with long soft fibers in his hands. It had pictures of little puppies. Among humans this would have passed for infantile, but Connor couldn't wait until he was more charged to analyze each breed whose print was on the blanket. Connor's eyes widened. He won't have to sleep under the old curtain! Maybe he'll be warmer and be able to survive on leftover batteries until Monday, if he falls into stasis mode!

-Th... thank you! I...

-You think it's over?- Hank laughed- At first I thought it would be useless, but when you said you went for a walk in such cold, idiot, I stopped worrying about it

He handed Connor another item, this time it was a down winter jacket. Blue, like his diode. Connor almost cried looking at it. He looked at Hank and at the jacket several times before wordlessly throwing himself at the older man wrapping his arms around him. He won't freeze, he'll survive, he'll make it! Everything will be fine!

-Hey! Hey! Connor calm down, it's just a jacket!- Hank laughed

It's my gateway to survival, he wanted to say. But he really didn't want Hank to find out about his situation. Hank put his arms around him and after a while gently pushed Connor away.

-If you want, we can watch something. I found another part of that dorky documentary of yours about sharks....

Connor was almost vibrating with happiness.

-You don't happen to have a charger here, do you?” he asked uncertainly

-Uh... I have chargers for my phone, but you probably mean to charge yourself....

-All the chargers in Jericho are occupied by the wounded- a new lie, but he had to justify himself so Hank wouldn't suspect anything.

-Sorry kid... But I'll work something out with the station maybe I can get there so you can use it, but it's probably Saturday at the earliest

So he had to extend the battery life from 16 to 96 hours. If he keeps his resources to a minimum and goes into stasis now then there would be 5% more battery to get to the station on Saturday. He's going to have to conserve, dammit....

-In general, will you go for a walk with Sumo? He hasn't been giving me a break lately, and I remember that you seemed to like it

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Of course he loved it. He remembered running between the snowdrifts with Sumo that evening until the dog got tired. Hank stood by and laughed when the St. Bernard jumped on him throwing them both into the snowdrift. He smiled at the memory. Had he said no, Hank would surely have started to suspect something.

-Of course Hank

They left together, earlier Connor had put on his new jacket. It was very warm and soft. He felt like he was being hugged by someone. As soon as they were out of Hank's sight, COnnor turned off his skin to minimize the loss of energy. The St. Bernard pulled him forward as the android dragged himself along walking slowly. Connor saw something out of the corner of his eye. It could have been a piece of leaf or a commercial that had been blown from somewhere. But instead, Sumo saw something in it that he could chase.

One minute, Sumo was on Connor's leash, and the next, the android turned all his systems back on full power in an attempt to catch up with the fleeing dog. He caught him in one of the smaller alleys when he was tearing a piece of the banner with great vigor. Connor was horrified to find that this short chase had used up 10% of his battery.

[10% charge] [5h remaining].

Connor panickedly lowered all his resources, crying into the fur of Sumo, whom he hugged in a fit of emotion. He won't be able to hold his battery until Friday.

It will shut down soon.

He will die soon.

He will die.

He will die.

Die.

He needs to go back to Hank. Go into low energy mode. Say goodbye to him.

Maybe that's better, too? He won't be a threat to anyone anymore. They will be safe. All the androids. Markus. He wants to apologize again to Markus for everything he did as a machine.

He rose to his feet. When did he sink to his knees? He couldn't remember. He walked slowly to Hank's house, watching in horror as the battery power slowly dropped. Was it damaged? It was a prototype. There were no spare parts for him. Not that he deserved any.

He would simply hug Hank, lie down on the couch and close his eyes. Or he'll leave the house so Hank won't have the problem of what to do with his body. Someday, some garbage truck will simply find him and take him to the landfill. where he should be.

But he didn't want to die. He really didn't want to. He felt tears running down his cheeks as he saw the 9% battery when he entered the lieutenant's house.

-Connor? Are you back yet? - He heard Hank's voice from the bedroom -You know? Even Sumo thinks it's too cold

When did the dog manage to walk away from him? He walked a few more steps before dropping to his knees. He had to get into a stasis, quickly... Maybe he'll make it. He didn't apologize to Markus. He had to make sure Markus knew how sorry he was.

-Connor?- he heard again from the bedroom. He slowly laid down on his right side in front of the entrance. He curled into himself, trying to limit the energy drops.

[6% charge] [Recommended to plug in as soon as possible].

Yes, the battery is definitely down. Maybe from the cold.

He called Markus when he heard footsteps. Apparently he wasn't too busy because he answered almost immediately

-Connor?!- It was Hank's voice- What the fuck is going on?

-Connor? Is everything okay?"-Markus' voice through their connection

-Markus...-He decided to answer the android when Hank's strong hands rolled him onto his back. He heard Hank's loud intake of breath when he saw the rapidly flashing red LED and unseeing eyes-Markus, I'm sorry, for everything. I didn't mean to. I regret it so much.

-Connor - what's going on? What's going on? Tell me for fuck's sake!- again Hank

-Connor? I have forgiven you, what's going on?

Connor broke the connection. He was forgiven, he could just hear Hank's terrified voice above him, but that's okay. He won't have to worry about him anymore. He just hopes he won't be angry, because he'll have to take his body to the garbage.
And he bought him a blanket... in dogs. He remembered...
He hoped Sumo would use it.
And the jacket... Maybe Hank could bring it back to the store.

Chapter Text

Hank stalked through New Jericho mad as hornets. Maybe it was for the best that Markus was off in a meeting with government officials. Better for Markus, at least—Hank felt like smashing that plastic revolutionary’s face in. How could he not have noticed Connor’s problems? The technician said he hadn’t plugged in to charge for about a week, and his battery was practically trashed by stress and cold. How did he miss that? The kid was stressed and apparently lying about being in Jericho. Fucking androids.

His phone buzzed in his pocket. Markus.

“Listen to me, you fucking crap—” he snarled into the earpiece. “You’re fucking lucky you’re not here, or I’d—”

“Lieutenant,” Markus interrupted, voice as weary as Hank felt. “There’s no need for more aggression. I’m as surprised by all this as you are.”

“Then why the hell did he call you and apologize? What the hell did you tell him?”

“I told him nothing,” Markus said. “He left right after helping us get settled in New Jericho. He said he’d come see you.”

“He told me he was coming to you guys. Where the hell was he all that time? It’s freezing! There’s no way he’d survive that cold.”

“He barely did,” Markus stated flatly, and Hank felt sick. He just hoped the technician could get Connor patched up, or Hank might actually play Russian roulette with a pistol. But he wanted to stay positive. He’d already ordered a charger for androids to his house.

“Christ, I know. He said he couldn’t charge in Jericho because all the chargers were taken by the wounded.”

“Connor got his own room with a custom charger built just for him. No other android could use it, even if they tried.”

“So you’re telling me Connor nearly killed himself by refusing to charge?”

“That’s our conclusion, sir.”

Fuck. Fucking androids.

“So what do you suggest?”

“First, make sure he feels safe. Talk to him when he wakes up, but don’t yell. He’s definitely stressed. He needs support, not blame.”

“I can’t even get in there right now. The tech’s still tinkering with Connor.”

Markus agreed and asked Hank to wait by the door. As much as Markus trusted Hank meant no harm and only wanted the best for Connor, he had to be sure—and now was the perfect moment, with the young android alone.

“Connor? How are you feeling?”

He waited for a reply.

“Odd,” the voice trembled, still clearly crying but trying to force a stable, mechanical tone. “I’m on external power… Markus… I’m sorry… For chasing you, for old Jericho… For everything.”

“No, Connor,” Markus said firmly; Connor flinched. “What happened before you went off the rails doesn’t count. You’re someone completely different now. I never blamed you for what happened, okay?”

A long silence followed as Connor clearly processed Markus’s words.

“Okay,” came the quiet answer, and Markus could only hope Connor truly meant it.

“I have one more question, Connor, and I need you to be honest,” Markus ventured once he was sure the other android had calmed down. “Do you feel safe around Hank? Is anything worrying you?”

“I’m worried about his diet and how much he drinks, but from what I’ve seen, he’s been cutting back lately…”

Markus made a mental note. He’d heard from other androids about their former owners abusing alcohol and drugs—always ended in violence. Maybe that’s why Connor lied, afraid of Hank’s aggression when he drank. Had Hank ever hurt him?

“Has Hank ever hurt you when he was under the influence?”

Another pause as Connor thought.

“W-what? Hank would never hurt me. Since I was deemed ‘faulty,’ he’s been very kind. He even gave me a blanket! Do you think I can still have it? Have you talked to the lieutenant? Is he mad at me?”

Questions rained on Markus. Connor got a blanket. The android leader had heard of these charming tactics from abusers: warm you up, then turn the cold shoulder.

“Why do you think Hank would be mad?”

“I… didn’t want to upset him. I didn’t want to collapse in his corridor…”

“You know you can stay in New Jericho, right? You’re always welcome here. You have your room with a private charger and a supply of thirium.”

“Sounds great, Markus, but I’d rather not.”

Markus hesitated. He didn’t want to push Connor, but he didn’t want him getting hurt either. He’d keep an eye on both the young android and the lieutenant, call often, and ask Simon or Josh to check in every so often to make sure there were no injuries.

“That’s fine—but remember, you can always come back. Jericho’s doors are open to you.”

They hung up just as Hank finally burst in with a crash. He scanned the room until his eyes landed on the frightened android. He bounded over in a few long strides and touched Connor’s shoulder, as if to make sure the kid was really there. He managed a sad half-smile. The android looked like a beaten puppy, and Hank almost cried.

“Jesus, kid…” Hank took a deep breath. He wanted to scream. He really did—but he wasn’t about to stress him more.

“I’m sorry, Hank… I didn’t mean to stress you. I just…”

“You just can’t take care of yourself well enough to not be a pain.”

Connor looked away, and Hank instantly regretted his words as they left his mouth. What was he thinking? The kid was unstable and stressed. Almost dead, for fuck’s sake!

He rubbed his face with his hand. Connor’s LED glowed red, illuminating the room.

“Listen, kid… Whatever happened, you could’ve always come to me and told me, okay? This whole android mess overwhelmed us all, and I get you were stressed and confused, but I’ve always been here, you know?”

Connor nodded but still wouldn’t meet his eye. Hank sighed.

“We’ll wait till they swap your battery, then we’ll head back to my place. I even ordered a charger—maybe not as fancy as the one in your Jericho room, but…”

If it were possible, Connor’s LED would’ve gone even redder. Why was Hank trying so hard? He didn’t want to be a burden. And now he was Hank’s responsibility. Chargers weren’t cheap. Quick calculations showed this basic compatible charger cost nearly twice his monthly salary. They hadn’t even known each other that long!

“Hank… I… I wouldn’t want to…” He stuttered, throat feeling like it was clenched. He ran a quick diagnostic. Everything was fine except, of course, excessive thirium pump use and elevated stress—but that had been going on for a while.

“Don’t worry, kid. He won’t go broke, and you sure as hell won’t be sleeping in the street.”

Connor still wanted to argue. He wasn’t sleeping in the street. He was sleeping in an abandoned house. Big difference. If Hank was worried someone might find him and render him unable to work, chance was under 30%. He had a jacket and a blanket—he wouldn’t freeze. He wanted to say all this, but the technician entered with a small case in hand. He gave Hank a disgusted look. Not very friendly, but Connor couldn’t blame him—in the end, Hank was part of the system that enslaved androids.

“I didn’t find a battery that fits your model perfectly, but this should be compatible at a basic level,” he said, placing the case beside Connor. As soon as the tech opened it, he hurriedly scanned the battery inside. The tech was right: the battery was only connection-compatible, but it would drain faster with Connor’s processors.

“I won’t be able to run at full power on this battery,” Connor said, clearly saddened. That meant no field work. Best-case, he’d be stuck behind a desk. Worst-case, he wouldn’t be able to work at all. How would he ever repay Hank then?

“Either that, or you’ll be lugging this thing everywhere,” Hank pointed at the machine still hooked to Connor. To Hank, it looked like a huge industrial vacuum cleaner tethered to a vital-sign monitor. Connor sighed—he hoped Hank wouldn’t be mad that he wasn’t as useful as before. He nodded in resignation but felt a warm, strong hand on his shoulder holding him afloat.

“Don’t worry—we’ll find something for your model,” Hank said, gradually unplugging the machine from Connor’s body. He lay back on the exam table, drifting into the sweet world of shutdown.

Chapter Text

**The ride home was relatively quiet.** Hank seemed to have forgotten to turn on the radio, and Connor was busy running internal diagnostics and minor repairs. Battery connection issues kept popping up. He felt sluggish. The technician had told him he’d deliberately throttled Connor’s processes to keep him from accidentally draining the entire battery during a mission. Connor was grateful—he suspected that, out of habit, he would’ve burned through the whole battery on the first chase. His stress levels were still elevated, but aside from that, everything seemed in working order.

He glanced at Hank, who looked unnaturally focused on the road ahead. He hadn’t said a word, as if deliberately ignoring Connor’s presence in the car. Was he angry but didn’t want to show it around the other androids? He had every right to be furious. After everything that happened… Connor hadn’t completed his mission, he’d killed androids before, and now he’d nearly shut down in the hallway...

“Hey, hey, kid! My damn car’s turning into a goddamn disco ball from your little light,” Hank cut through his thoughts with a tired smile. “You alright? That thing’s not supposed to be blinking red like that. Should we head back so the tech can check you out again?”

Connor hesitantly touched his LED and checked his stress levels.

**85%.**

When had it spiked so fast? Was there something wrong with his subprocesses? He ran another diagnostic. Everything came back normal. Was he unstable?

“Hey, earth to Connor,” Hank snapped his fingers close to Connor’s face.

“I’m fine, Lieutenant,” he said. “Nothing to be concerned about.”

Hank sighed and turned into the driveway.

“How long do you think your new battery’s gonna last?” he asked, heading toward the house. Connor followed close behind, his legs feeling heavy and his hands a little too unsteady as they gripped the edges of his coat.

“A few days, if I maintain current processing levels,” he replied, though he was tempted to ramp them back up. He felt so exposed and useless without his full strength and mental speed.

“Good, ‘cause the charger gets here the day after tomorrow,” Hank added, then corrected himself when he saw Connor’s LED turn yellow. “But if you need it sooner, I’ll take you to Jericho. Didn’t know androids had batteries.”

“Most androids don’t. Only those with high processing capabilities like military or police models. The rest are powered solely by thirium,” Connor explained as he took off his coat once inside. “Why didn’t you know androids needed to charge? There are chargers at the station.”

“Well…” Hank rubbed the back of his head, embarrassed. “Before you, I didn’t really bring police androids out on missions. If they were needed, they’d just show up on their own and get on my nerves. I thought the charging spots were more like… storage racks or something.”

Connor raised an eyebrow and chuckled. Hank really knew so little about his kind. The only thing that made it obvious to Hank when something was wrong with him was the LED. Connor touched it again, wiping the blinking light. It illuminated the dim living room in a soft blue glow. That little diode gave away so much about him—more than he’d like to admit. Somewhere in the background, Hank muttered “I’m gonna take a shower,” and left Connor alone with only Sumo’s soft snoring as a reminder that this was real.

He remembered scanning android victims, always starting with the LED. Serial number, model number, date and place of manufacture. Did he really want everyone to know everything about him at a glance? Hank wouldn’t be able to read it, of course, but any other android could. He wasn’t foolish enough to believe that removing the LED would stop other androids from recognizing him as a threat—but still, he wished it weren’t so obvious. Sometimes he wished he could transfer into a different model. Maybe a GS200? He could still work in law enforcement, still be strong and fast. Maybe not a detective, but still… maybe with Hank. Or an MC500. Hank wasn’t getting any younger—he could’ve looked after him in his old age.

But he was an RK800, and a damaged one at that. What use was he with throttled processing? Maybe Amanda had been right. Maybe that was always the plan—to be destroyed and replaced. Because what was left of his original purpose now? He wasn’t a deviant hunter anymore. Not even a detective. He was just Connor—a broken android with a failed mission.

Hank came out of the bathroom with a short “Goodnight” before retreating into his room. Connor slowly made his way to the bathroom too. He looked at himself in the mirror, where semi-motivational quotes were taped beside it. The reflection didn’t show his old, composed self, but a shattered, broken figure. He’d forgotten to fix his hair—it fell into natural curls, messy and unkempt. Stray strands hung over his face, more than he felt comfortable with. He tried slicking them back, but they kept falling forward. His eyes looked glassy, and if he were human, he probably would’ve had bags under them from exhaustion.

Androids didn’t feel fatigue. That’s what he’d tell Hank—androids didn’t get tired. But alone in the silence of his own mind, maybe… maybe he could.

But was he really alone in there?

Amanda...

What if CyberLife found a way to hack into his mind again? Make him hurt someone? What if this time, they didn’t fail? What if he hurt Markus… or Hank?

He stared at himself in the mirror. He didn’t want to be an android that was so easily controlled. He opened a drawer, grabbed a pair of scissors, and removed the one thing that bothered him most.

Soon after, he entered stasis in the hallway outside Hank’s door—just in case he needed something during the night.

**“Holy shit!”** Hank’s yell woke him around 6 a.m. The older man stood leaning against the opposite wall, clutching his chest, visibly shaken. Connor immediately scanned the apartment. Was someone there? Had Hank been scared by an intruder?

“Is everything alright, Lieutenant?” he asked, still unsure what caused the commotion. “Did someone frighten you?”

“Yeah, **you**, jackass! What the hell are you doing standing outside my room like that?!”

Connor tilted his head, confused by the cause of Hank’s alarm.

“I entered stasis to process short-term memory and transfer it to main storage.”

“Christ, Connor…” Hank rubbed his face. “I thought you were gonna crash on the couch.”

Connor opened his mouth, trying to understand how that would work. He wasn’t human. He didn’t need that kind of comfort, and from the couch, he wouldn’t hear if the lieutenant needed anything. He knew that’s how domestic helper androids behaved unless instructed otherwise. Hank hadn’t given him any instructions the previous night. He hadn’t told him to sleep on the couch either. Connor glanced toward it. Aside from Sumo, a blanket and pillow lay neatly folded. A hint, apparently—one Hank never verbalized.

“I deemed this to be the most optimal location in case you required assistance during the night.”

“Jesus. I just wanted a glass of water, now I need a damn whiskey,” Hank muttered, halfway to the kitchen before he froze. He squinted at Connor, narrowing his eyes. “Where’s your light?” he tapped his own temple.

“I removed it,” Connor replied flatly and brushed past him to pour the water. Hank said nothing, just stared, stunned. After a moment, he slowly nodded and took the glass from Connor.

“Okay… cool... Am I gonna be an asshole if I ask why?” He sipped. “I mean… half the damn world already knows who you are. That android march? It was fucking everywhere.”

Connor dropped his gaze. It was true. He’d never escape who he was. He was a killer. A threat. No matter how much he tried to atone, it would always follow him. Like a stone tied to his ankle, dragging him further down. Of course, the LED wouldn’t change anything. He was almost as recognizable as Markus himself. What was he thinking—that removing the diode would fix something? Idiot.

“I…” he tried to speak, but something blocked his voice. A strange tightness in his synthetic throat. Was he more damaged than he thought? A part of him regretted removing the LED now.

Memories hit like nails to the skull. North’s grip around his neck when she found him alone near the spare parts. He hadn’t meant any harm—just checking for safety. But she hadn’t listened. She shoved him against the wall, squeezing tightly around his throat. He was scared she’d crush his internal components. He couldn’t defend himself—if Markus saw her hurt, he’d never forgive Connor.

She’d said, **“We all know what you look like. Show up again, and we’ll see if your components are worth more as power supply than as an android.”**

She was right. The LED changed nothing. He’d never be more than a walking backup battery. And he didn’t even trust himself. What if Amanda came back and made him kill them all? North had been right to pull Markus away at the church. And the slap—he deserved that too. What the hell had he been thinking?

He could’ve killed three of Jericho’s leaders in a single moment.

**\[Stress level: 98%]**
**\[Self-destruction risk: High]**

Suddenly he felt trapped—but how could he explain it? Trapped within the strong arms of the lieutenant. He could hear Hank saying something, but couldn’t make out the words. Something was distracting him. A sound. Crying? Loud, and close.

Was Hank crying?

He lifted his head to look into the older man’s face, but saw no tears—just calm. Like this wasn’t the first time he’d done this. Hank was hugging him, whispering warm words. Connor raised his fingers to his own eyes. It was him. **He** was crying. No—**sobbing**, loudly. He tried to stop but couldn’t.

Hank cupped the back of his head and pulled him closer. Connor gripped Hank’s shirt like a drowning man.

At last, he heard Hank clearly.

**“It’s okay now. No one’s going to hurt you...”**

Did Hank know about North’s threats? But how? Connor never wanted him to find out. Hank had already hated androids—what if he hated them again? What if he hated... **him**?

What if Hank went and hurt North? Markus would be furious. He’d try to hurt Hank. Connor couldn’t let that happen.

A new task blinked in the corner of his HUD: **“Protect Hank.”**

“Please… North had every right to hit me. She… she suffered a lot at the hands of humans, and I worked for them and—”

Hank suddenly pulled away. He stood frozen, wide-eyed.

He knew. Of course he did. Right?

“**North?**” Hank’s face morphed from shocked to **livid**. Connor stepped back instinctively.

“Hank… please…”

“That bitch? Markus’s lapdog? She **beat you**, and she’s still hanging around Mr. Bigshot Leader? I’ll show that bitch a thing or two!”

“No, don’t—” Connor’s voice broke like a crashing hard drive. Wetness streaked his cheeks. When had he started crying again?

“What the hell else am I supposed to do? Oh, I know—let me call Markus and tell him what his girlfriend’s up to!”

Connor panicked even more. What if Markus was with someone? What if someone heard a human yelling at an android? It would only deepen tensions.

“No—I’ll call. I’ll tell him.”

Hank nodded, watching him closely. Connor dialed the number, silently praying to RA9 that Markus wouldn’t answer.

His prayers were answered. The call was declined instantly.

He looked at Hank.

“D… didn’t pick up,” he whispered, dreading the reaction. And rightly so. Hank threw his hands up and stormed toward the front door.

“Then I’ll fucking tell him in person!”

Hank’s hand was already on the doorknob when **everything went black.**

Like falling into stasis, but without the file transfers. Just… nothing. A dreamless sleep. Somewhere in the void, he heard sounds—**shouting**.

He probably should wake up.

But he couldn’t.

He didn’t know why.

Only one message displayed clearly on his HUD:

**\[Stress level: 100%]**

Chapter Text

He could assume that what he would be feeling if he were human—would be pain. A lot of pain, mostly concentrated in his head. The next thing he felt was that he was completely wet and simultaneously sticky. His sensors also registered something tightening around his hand. Something warm and with a texture he could only recognize as skin. It was slightly damp as well, indicating it belonged to a hairless being that produced sebum. He analyzed the list of such creatures in his database. He was likely inside a building, as his senses detected no open space. That ruled out many animals typically kept indoors. The most obvious candidate was a human. Judging by the roughness of the skin and the size of the fingers, Connor speculated it was a male, approximately 55 years old. He opened his eyes to confirm his assumption.

It was indeed a man. Hank Anderson. Officer of the Detroit Police Department. He detected 0.8‰ of alcohol in his exhaled breath. The man’s eyes were bloodshot, leading Connor to deduce he was in a heightened emotional state.

\[Appropriate response to emotional distress: comfort]

Connor gently squeezed the man's hand and tried to smile, but something was preventing the movement. He initiated a body scan. Strange. A large portion of the biocomponents in his head had been damaged. It was a miracle he was still functioning at all. But why? His memory must have been damaged. His facial expression wasn’t friendly enough to provide comfort. However, the man’s head shot up the moment he felt that gentle squeeze.

“Oh God, kid, you're alive...” He seemed terrified, maybe even shaken. He covered his mouth with a free hand to stifle a sob. If Connor's synthetic eyebrow muscles were still working, he surely would’ve furrowed them. Still, his program continued suggesting ways to comfort a human in emotional distress.

“Everything... everything is fine.”

But Hank’s reaction exceeded the program's predictive parameters.

“Shit, shut up!” he yelled, so Connor obeyed and fell silent. The man burst into sharp sobs again. Connor couldn’t recall a moment from his data banks when the lieutenant had ever been this emotional.
“I already called the technician. He told me to lay you on the floor. Said he’s on his way.”

Connor didn't respond. The lieutenant told him to shut up. Then he noticed it. Blue blood. A lot of blue blood. Everywhere. He hoped Sumo wouldn't try to eat it. That could be harmful. But what had happened? Had someone broken in and attacked him? He noticed missing memory files. Something had happened over the last 30 minutes that he didn’t remember. Was Hank hurt? He scanned the human. No life-threatening or serious injuries. Just a few bruises and a contused hand, but no fractures or sprains.

“Your hand is bruised,” he remarked absentmindedly. “I recommend applying something cold and temporarily immobilizing it.”

Hank stared at him, shocked. As if he didn’t understand what Connor had just said. The android wanted to repeat it, but was interrupted by the doorbell. Hank yelled that it was open, and a JB300 technician appeared in the doorway. Seeing Connor—rather, his condition—he froze, but quickly recovered and ran over to the pair cramped between the living room and kitchen. The android looked at Hank with a silent question—what happened?

“Shit, I don’t know what happened, we had a fight and then he just started slamming his head against the wall like he was possessed.”

Why would he slam his head against a wall? That was highly illogical. Why would he do that? And then it hit him. He’d reached a critical stress level. How was he still alive? Had Hank saved him? That would explain the bruised hand and injuries. If he had started self-destruction from the head, he must have looked terrifying. The technician’s reaction confirmed his suspicion.

“He has damage to most of his biocomponents. Surprisingly, his memory chip and basic cognitive functions are in fairly good condition, but the rest will need complete replacement. One eye appears to be relatively intact,” the technician said, closely inspecting his skull.

“Shit... I... I don’t know what happened...”

“It’s alright. If it were your fault, you wouldn’t have called me,” said the android calmly. “Connor, can you hear me?”

“Yes,” he said, now realizing how impressive it was that he could still speak.

“Are you in the process of shutting down?”

Connor carefully analyzed all the warnings on his HUD. All pointed to critical damage, but none indicated imminent system failure. He exhaled in relief.

“No.”

The technician nodded. He too seemed much calmer with that information.

“Lieutenant, I suggest you take a moment to collect yourself. Connor is safe and needs repairs.”

Hank didn’t feel up to arguing with the technician. He got up and gave Connor one last look. He didn’t look great, considering Hank went to throw up in the bathroom. The android closed his one functioning eye. He really didn’t want to stress the lieutenant out like this. He just wanted him not to worry about Connor's problems. Not to try to intervene.

Suddenly, his HUD filled with a call notification. It was Markus. He disabled external sound input. Still, he felt the technician fiddling with his skull.

“Hey, sorry I missed your call—I was at a meeting with President Warren. Did something happen?” Markus’s voice sounded concerned. Did he know? No, definitely not. He wouldn’t make that mistake again.

“Oh, it was nothing really, I just wanted to check in and say everything’s okay now,” he said but cursed internally for switching his voice output to internal. He quickly fixed it to avoid raising more suspicion.

“Are you sure? Tell me to say hi to Josh if something’s wrong.”
Connor smiled. It was nice that Markus worried about him.

“No, really, it’s fine… they just swapped out my battery for a weaker one, so I won’t be as efficient as before.” His excuse was simple. Markus could easily verify it if he wanted to.

“Would you be able to come by tomorrow? My battery’s still in good condition, and we’re both RK models.”
The android leader sounded casual, as if swapping out a battery was no big deal. Connor didn’t deserve that, especially while lying to his friend.

“What? No—absolutely not. You need a high-performance battery more than I do.”

“I’m still inviting you to New Jericho tomorrow. Would you like to come?”

He really would. But two problems arose. First, North and her followers. If he even tried to step into New Jericho, they’d tear him apart. Second, he wasn’t sure if, in his current state, he could even make it there without drawing suspicion. He didn’t look his best. Certainly not good enough to show himself to Markus.

“I... I don’t know. Hank hasn’t been feeling well lately.” The excuse came easily. Hank was an older man with a weakened immune system, and it was winter.

“Remember, you’re always welcome in New Jericho.”

He wasn’t. But he really wished Markus’s words were true. He wanted to be able to go to Jericho and not fear for his safety. He wanted to be there like it was his home. Surrounded by love and meeting other androids. He wanted to help build a better world. But he couldn’t—because, truthfully, no one trusted him. He cut the call as Hank finally stepped out of the bathroom. From his expression, he seemed to be considering going back in.

“How’s the work going?” he asked, kneeling beside Connor again.

The technician was using tweezers to remove a particularly crushed component. It might have been a gyroscope, but Connor’s scans couldn’t identify it.

“The work will take about two more hours. Then he’ll need to remain lying down for another five hours for recalibration. After that, he won’t be able to stand for more than an hour at a time.”

Connor gasped at the information. Was he now completely useless?

“But… not forever, right?” Hank voiced his racing thoughts almost perfectly.

“Until I locate perfectly compatible parts for the RK800 model, which might take some time. For now, I recommend staying home and avoiding strain.” He looked at Connor’s battered face, still covered in thirium. “I’d recommend staying home and—”

“But I have to work!” Connor was panicking again, a surge tearing through his already fragile software. His voice cracked, sounding like a broken cassette tape. Nothing like the soft, pleasant tone Hank was used to hearing.

“Hey, kid,” Hank forced himself to stay calm, even though Connor still looked like he’d been hit by a truck. Connor looked at him with his one working eye, now stained a vivid azure from the thirium. “I’ll call Fowler. I’ll ask him to send you case files so you can work from the couch, okay? Then you’ll recover and everything will be fine.”

Connor looked like he wanted to argue. Likely, he feared that with his damaged battery and this incident, he’d be as useful in the field as a YK model at Hank’s side. But he said nothing and turned his head away with a grimace. The older man gently ran his fingers through Connor’s thirium-sticky hair, lowering his stress levels. They’d risen back to 70%. In a normal situation, he would have been shaking, maybe even hysterical, but he’d been living at these levels ever since he became deviant. You could almost say he’d gotten used to it.

The technician pulled out some extra components from his bag.

“I recommend temporarily entering stasis mode to avoid overloading your systems.”

Connor nodded, giving Hank one last glance—still leaning over him with an expression full of stress and fear. Then darkness consumed him once more. But this time, it was a comforting one.