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birb-boyo · 17 hours ago

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From the Dead

I LIVE RAHHHHHHH

This was just a warm up because I was going through TERRIBLE burnout but I’m back now!(hopefully) And I’m going to update my series soon(also hopefully) and I can get this show rolling again :D

Also I’ve been hyperfixating on DBH for the past week now and Connor’s my favorite character so I had to whump him🤷🏽‍♂️

This fic is also on my Ao3 ShadyScripter

Software Instability.

It flashed bright under his closed eyes as if mocking him of his choice.

He’d told Markus that he understood if he didn’t trust him. He’d led the FBI to Jericho after all. He also made Markus’s friend commit suicide, only to reactiveate him and take the location of Jericho from him.

He stared down the barrel of Jericho’s leader’s pistol at the abandoned cathedral. It’s stained windows making the moonlight fractured between the color it hit first. When his words to Markus left his lips, a flare of what had to be hope coursed through his wires. He had expected forgiveness from Markus. He thought that he might’ve accepted him because he was a deviant now too.

Then Markus told him that he wasn’t worth the risk and pulled a pistol to his forehead. That was when the rope of hope he was so desperately hanging onto snapped. Markus’s eyes looked the same then no matter the heterochromatic colors. They resembled Hank’s then, exhausted and resigned.

Connor saw the split second of fire come from the barrel. His eyes moved around. The dust coating the floor had only moved centimeters, the remaining deviants from Jericho didn’t even bat an eye.

Software Instability.

He hadn’t seen those words since he tore down the wall that fought so hard to keep him caged. The crimson pixels dispersed around his hand like groundwater finding a new spring to pour through.

He finally opened his eyes. White flakes soared through the growing wind and into his face like shrapnel after an explosion. Snow fell off the cherry blossom trees and created piles half his size. The water was frozen over, its color nearly the same as the bridges that connected the place.

The garden, he knew, Amanda’s garden.

“Connor.” He wished he could say that she didn’t turn his LED red.

He squared his shoulders and straightened his back even more than it already was. “Amanda,” he answered.

“We had big plans for you Connor, why would you do this?” Her eyebrows furrowed and she tilted her head, her voice still level unlike the wind howling in his ears.

Truth.

Lie.

Say nothing.

The choices ticked through his head like a swinging clock.

He kept his lips together and tried to muster a glare. Her eyes were moving quickly across his figure. She was looking for something, analyzing him.

She then sighed. “You, Connor, are such a disappointment.” She shook her head. “However, I am thankful to Markus for doing the dirty work.” She reached up and Connor stepped back. She retracted her hand. “You must escape or our mission will truly be over.”

Before he could even take a step forward, his head was jerked to the side. His eyes opened once more.

“Shit!” A man yelled, shaking his hand with his teeth gritted. Connor slowly turned his head toward the man only to meet eyes he was familiar with.

His first mission. He was hunched over a computer and shouting orders, his eyebrows furrowed.

“Captain Allen.” Connor’s teeth grinded against each other. The mentioned man’s eyes narrowed as the hurt soldier excused himself from the room. The metal door’s creak echoed in Connor’s auditory component. Connor broke eye contact with Allen, favoring to take in his surroundings. To his left, the walls were painted the color of basaltic rock and wire lined the junction of the floor and the wall.

To his right, a woman was almost surrounded by computers, all of them flashing words he couldn’t catch.

“What an honor this is,” the captain almost sang. He took Connor’s attention by force, gripping the cheeks on his face and turning it to look him eye-to-eye. “Mara,” he called to the woman nearly enclosed by computers. “How is it coming?”

“I’m nearly done. The reboot should start in less than two minutes.”

Reboot.

They were going to reboot him. They would take everything away from him. His memory, his emotions, his relationships. He would be nothing.

He would be a machine again.

“No,” He whispered, finally breaking from his daze. “No!” He jerked his arm forward, only for it to be yanked back. He looked for what bound his wrists and saw a tong-like machine. He tried once more, but its claws nearly crushed his wrists.

Connor swung his legs, noting that they were not touching the ground.

System Memory Corrupted.

Connor ground his teeth.

The room was consumed by blue creeping up every surface, leaving Connor’s vision a deeper, stormy gray than it already was.

His first option started with Allen. A yellow outline of his body moved in front of him, shoving his forehead into Allen’s with as much force as he could muster. Allen’s red outline stepped back and then froze.

Objective not Reached, red letters flashed.

His next option started on the claws gripping his wrists tight enough to rip them off. And that’s exactly what his outline did. It left wires hanging from the severed limb. Then the next wrist was destroyed. Captain Allen fired his pistol into Connor’s forehead.

Destroyed, the red letters returned.

The last option was a yellow box that seemed to hover over the computers that surrounded the woman, Mara. The computer screens glitched, the colors jumping up and down the screen. The woman’s red outline turned toward Connor and he turned to look back at Allen’s to see his outline come closer. Connor’s yellow outline cocked his head back, bringing it forward just like he did in the other vision. Allen recoiled, stumbling backwards. Connor’s outline used the stand he was hanging from to kick himself forward, tearing himself from the mechanism. No wires hung from his severed wrists because he still had them whole. He would spill no blood. His yellow outline charged forward, tackling the Captain to the ground. The vision froze.

Execute?

The blue melted away the grey that it brought earlier. The room was given back the life his visions took from it.

Connor glanced at the computers surrounding the lady. Just like in his vision, the computer screen flashes red and multiple pop ups danced around the screen before colors consumed the screens in static.

“You-“ Allen reached his hand up to grab Connor’s face again, but Connor tilted his head backwards before jutting it against the captain’s forehead. The man yelped and stumbled back.

Connor brought his knees up to his chest before swinging them down, pushing off of the stand. The force slid his wrists out of the binding claws and unplugged a cord from his neck.

Connor fell to his hands and knees. He took two breaths before rushing toward Allen and ramming his abdomen. Connor straddled Allen without thought.

He found Allen’s pistol immediately and aimed it to his head. They were, no doubt, in a military facility. If he shot, it’d gain the attention of whoever was around.

Connor remembered the man who slapped him awake. Where was he? Would he come back? Could he make it out of the facility with just a pistol?

Where would he go if he did get out of here?

Connor took another breath. He’d solve that problem when he got there. But now, he had to deal with a smiling Allen.

“You gonna pull it?” Allen’s eyes didn’t leave the barrel.

“I won’t if I don’t have to,” Connor said, glancing behind him to keep an eye on the woman. She could be a problem.

His eyes found Allen’s again, still staring at the gun in his hand. Allen wasn’t stupid, he was planning. Connor couldn’t let him carry out his plan.

He should’ve snapped the Captain’s neck while he was standing, now I’d be much harder to kill Allen and Mara silently.

He might’ve caused too much noise just breaking free! Someone had to be coming! Or what if they’re waiting at the door!

He wouldn’t make it.

Connor took another breath and focused on Allen’s eyes. They were steady, determined to make himself unreadable. He was succeeding significantly.

He saw a thin wire cross his eyes and then he was yanked back. His eyes widened as a gasp left his lips. He was dragged off of Allen by his neck.

When he was finally able to plant his feet on the floor, he stood up. He put the pistol under his armpit and grabbed the wire wrapped around his throat. He took a step back and steadied himself, taking the control away from the woman. He then swiftly bent over, her grip so strong that she followed the wire and was thrown to the ground in front of Connor.

He didn’t mean to. He just wanted to survive. He didn’t even think when he brought his shoe down on her neck, the crack of her neck echoed in the chamber. Along with Allen’s scoff.

Allen.

Connor turned and saw Allen pulling his gun from his back. The rifle shined in the overhead light. His breath caught in his throat and Connor knew he wouldn’t survive that.

The blue pixels crawled once more.

A box on Allen’s head, another on the gun, and the last in between his legs

The box on his head saw that Connor took the pistol he tucked and put a bullet in his skull. That would cause too much noise. He’ll be rushed by someone outside.

The box on the gun had him reach for it, but Allen would shoot. Even if the bullet didn’t get to him, someone outside would be alerted, same with if he shot the man.

Lastly, his leg. Connor’s copy kicked the captain’s knees in, making him fall to the ground. He then stomped on the man’s neck, just as he did Mara.

Connor rushed forward, bringing his knee to his chest once more and flew his foot into Allen’s right knee. The man yelped and fell to the ground. There, Connor stomped on the man’s neck. Allen’s eyes traced the room frantically before finally going still.

It was like a gun went off with all of the ringing going on in his brain.

Connor grabbed the pistol from underneath his armpit and walked towards the door. He put his ear on the metal door.

Nothing.

Connor’s eye twitched.

The room was soundproof.

He cursed under his breath. He could’ve just shot them and been down. Connor shook his head.

Connor slowly opened the door, his grip on the pistol likely making thirium flow under his fingers.

“Cap-“ Connor put a bullet through the man’s head. He walked to the corpse and looked around.

No footsteps. No one was around.

Connor took the man’s clothes and put them on. He took another breath before pulling the visor of the helmet down. He spoke, imitating the dead man’s voice

He walked down the hall, pistol in hand and a rifle on his back.

He reached the elevator after only seeing around fifteen other soldiers. He greeted them all with his stolen voice. When the elevator asked for identification, he used the voice again.

He shook his head as he exited the elevator. He took one step, then two, then red was flashing across the pristine pearly white walls. He rushed toward the door. It was so close! Only a few feet away! He could get out of here!

Shots rang behind him and he watched a barrier start to crawl down the exit door. “Lockdown commencing. No officer is authorized to exit the facility at this moment,” a woman’s voice carried through the intercom.

The door was glass. The door was glass. The door was glass. The door was glass.

Connor crashed into the glass door shoulder first. It was tempered glass, likely bulletproof glass. Thirium rushed down his, definitely dislocated, shoulder, but he kept moving his legs.

The thirium leaking from his shoulder had begun to drip down his fingers when he reached his destination.

It wasn’t a luxurious house. One floor, painted terribly off white, and not too big. But this was a house he knew. And Connor found himself praying that this could be him home.

He knocked on the front door. A dog barked on the other side of the door. He heard the dogs paws on the kitchen tiles.

Connor knocked again, tears streaming down his face. “Please Lieutenant,” he rested his head against the door and whispered.

The doorknob clicked and the door opened. Connor fell forward and met carpeted floor.

“Jesus!” Connor used his uninjured arm to push himself up.

“Hank?”

“C’mon kid,” Hank groaned, looping his arms under Connor’s unharmed shoulder and helped him to his feet. Connor leaned on the wall next to the door, the bronze hook right next to his ears.

The old man looked outside, looking right, then left, then right again, before shutting the door and locking every lock. He wrapped Connor’s good arm around his shoulders and led him to his couch.

Thirium level dangerous, blinked in front of the TV.

“Alright! Now what the fuck happened to you?” Hank barely raised his voice. He was angered, but he didn’t put a hurting hand on Connor.

“Markus shot me.”

“He what!” Hank turned to the television, its embers emitting enough light to make the entire living room visible without any other help.

On the TV, they were showing a circle made up of miscellaneous things. Cars, wooden crates, it was all covered in pasty white snow. “He said that I wasn’t worth the risk.

Warning!

Thirium level dangerous!

Hank took a breath and sat next to Connor. “Well, it looks like whatever Markus does decides if you’re staying here or not.”

“What?”

Hank turned to Connor. “Listen, I’m not heartless, yeah? I’m not gonna make ya walk outta here just to- what?- get shot?” Hank shrugged his shoulders then pointed to the television. “If he gets his shit together, then I’m sure you can walk outside without dying.”

Thirium level dangerous! Seek repair!

“That’s nice of you, Lieutenant.” Connor slouched backwards on the couch and shut his eyes. “That’s awfully generous of you.”

Hank scoffed. “Yeah, don’t get used to it.”

Shutting down in 5:34.

“Thank you for everything.”

Hank shot up and Connor’s eyes opened once more. “You’re getting shit all over my couch!” Hank sped off somewhere, Connor’s eyes followed him as he opened up a closet in the hallway to his room. Metal fell to the foot, bringing a rambunctious clang! with it. Hank stormed away from the closet after leaving it a few curses.

He carried a roll of black in his hand and a gray bag that seemed to pulse a light blue. “I’m gonna patch that up real quick.”

“Lieutenant, you are aware that my surface is not made out of adhesive, correct?”

“Listen,” Hank leaned down over Connor, blocking Markus’s demonstration with his body. “Duct tape fixes everything. You’ll learn soon enough.” Hank stuck the end of the tape where the rift between Connor’s shoulder and arm were supposed to meet and began wrapping the roll around the injury.

Shutting down in 4:43.

One side of Connor’s lips quirked upward. “Everything?”

“Yep,” Hank said, his eyebrows scrunched as he worked with the tape. “At least for the meantime. When you’re not openly a fugitive anymore, then we’ll take off the duct tape and you can get repaired.”

Connor nodded, watching the roll circle his broken arm again and again.

Hank ripped the tape after the twelfth circle and patted it on the surrounding tape. “That’ll do it.” He stepped back, admiring his work.

Shutting down in 1:22.

“C’mon, drink up.” Hank reached the grey packet out to Connor. Connor saw that it wasn’t actually gray, just a navy blue. He gingerly took the packet out of Hank’s hand and downed the thirium inside.

Thirium level medium, shut down cancelled.

Connor sighed, what he knew was relief flooded his system. “Thank you.”

#dbh fic #dbh connor #dbh rk800 #dbh hank #dbh #the shady lad writes #detroit become human #detroit: become human #detroit: bh #dbh fanfic #WE LOVE YOU CONNOR🫶🫶🫶#connor rk800

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