#the deviant hunter right? (connor)

[that-vibe-i-cant-explain]

They should have leaned harder into how dangerous Connor is. They had August through November to work with and he should have spent that time hunting deviants. He should have been efficient. He should have been lethal. The androids at Jericho should talk about him in hushed whispers. He's their boogeyman. They say he's got red eyes and he can kill with an interface. He can tear down your firewalls and get at your memories and tear away your mind.

When Connor finally deviates, they don't know who he is right away. He hears the whispering and he thinks about every single deviant he's hunted. No amount of atonement will make that right.

When or if they find out who he is, wariness takes over. Androids glance at him like he's a predator in their midst. He doesn't have red eyes. He looks nice. But he was their hunter, their killer, Cyberlife's bloodhound. Markus vouches for him, but he didn't lose a brother, a lover, a friend to the deviant hunter. Connor may have lost his leash, but he'll never really be one of them.

[not-neverland06]

Frayed Wires

One Shot Connor RK800 x fem!android reader Summary: You’re fighting for the freedom of your people and trying to win a war. But the hunter tracking you and your friends down is getting in the way, and he seems to be oddly interested in you.

“Is this all of it?” You questioned, going through the packages of blue blood. It didn’t seem like enough for just you, Simon and North. Let alone the rest of Jericho. 

Markus shook his head. He flipped the lid off a crate and cussed, tossing it to the side. “Someone’s betrayed us.” You and North both glanced up at the same time, sharing a confused look before you walked towards him. 

You glanced inside the crate, there were empty slots where spare parts should be. In their place was a note, quickly scribbled that only said Sorry. 

“Fuck,” you kicked at the crate, glancing around the storage room. Simon and Josh were flipping the lids off the rest and shaking their heads in dissapointment. You wondered if there was ever actually anything in them. 

North seethed, “This is what happens when we trust humans.” She ran a hand through her hair and shook her head. 

You glanced over your shoulder at her. You hated to agree, to feed further into her violence, but she was right. You’d all told Markus dealing with “allies” for supply runs would be stupid. 

Even Josh had agreed with North, and that was rare. 

North started laying into Markus, hands in the air and shouting about using critical thinking skills. You frowned, creeping towards the door and listening out towards the hallway. 

On the first floor you could hear one very clear voice. “We’re looking for a group of deviants. Two pleasure models, a…”

You didn’t stay to listen, tuning into the private channel the rebels kept open. They’re coming.

Markus and North quieted instantly. Their static voices ringing through your mainframe as you communicated silently. Are you sure? Markus was staring over North’s shoulder at you. 

You nodded, The Lieutenant and the deviant hunter. First floor. We have time. 

How do we get past them? North questioned. There was only one exit out of this room and one fire exit down the hall. Unless you were all willing to drop down seven flights and damage your hardware, you were screwed. 

Your fists clenched at your sides as you ran through all the possible escape routes. You computed what must have been a dozen different paths, all of them ended with you caught or deactivated. 

I’ll distract them

No! Markus cut you off instantly, head shaking and glaring at you. 

You ignored him and looked to the others. I draw their attention, you get back to Jericho, tell them what happened. I have a better chance of getting away if I’m on my own, anyway. 

North nodded slowly, hand wrapping around Markus’ bicep while the others grouped around him. They all knew casualties were to be expected. Sacrifices were meant to be made when you were doing what you were. 

It seemed Markus was the only one still disillusioned to that fact. Did it suck that you were probably about to die? Yes. It really did. You’d just gotten your first taste of freedom. But you’d be willing to give that up tenfold if it meant freedom for the rest of your people. 

Your gun, North. You ordered. She didn’t say anything, a solemn look on her face as she placed it in your hand. The others gave you grateful looks. They knew it wasn’t for the cops. Worst came to worst and it was meant for you. You could never risk letting them get their hands on your memories. 

You didn’t stay to argue with Markus, you could already hear the police making their way through the floors. The hunter was knocking on different storage rooms, “Detroit police. Open up!”

He didn’t know which floor you were on yet. You had enough time. You might be able to make it out. 

You ran through the door, darting down the stairs, slamming your boots down loud enough to draw their attention. “Hey, a gruff voice called out on the fourth floor. “You hear that?”

“They’re getting away!” You made it to the second floor before you heard footsteps racing after yours on the stairwell. You couldn’t go too fast yet, you had to be really careful about this. If you ran off too soon, their attention might be drawn back to the others. Let them get too close and he would latch on, probe your memories before you could shoot either him or yourself. 

His footsteps rang out on the metal of the stairs. He was nearly on top of you now. You just barely let his fingers graze the back of your jacket before you were bursting out the side door of the building and into the connecting alley. 

You listened to the door slam close behind you and took a moment to scan your surroundings. You could run into the street, chances are you’d get hit by a car before they could grab you. But their attention would also be drawn to the group of suspiciously nervous androids across the street. 

Your friends were all herded around each other, heads darting every which way as the looked for you and the cops. Their clothes and demeanors stood out harshly against the calm pedestrians around them. 

Dammit, they couldn’t have thought of anything better than attempting to blend in with the crowd?

Markus finally spotted you and his eyes narrowed. The connection was crackly but you could make out his clear command to Cross the street, come to us. You ripped your gaze away from a him and shook your head. 

I would never make it, you cut the connection off before he could argue with you further. You heard the detectives at the door of the alley and quickly slid a trash can in front of the door. It wouldn’t last long, the deviant hunter was strong, in a couple seconds he would be knocking the door down. You panicked, glancing around once more for an escape plan. 

Down the alley your eye was snagged by a fire escape. The door behind you started to crack and the garbage can shot across the alley. You planned your escape and triggered your program, moving on autopilot towards the fire escape. You leapt off the dumpster and latched onto the bottom rung off the ladder. 

You kicked the dumpster out from under you just as the hunter made it into the alleyway. Another delay he’d have to deal with before he could get you. 

You flew up the ladder and onto the connecting roof. You didn’t stay to watch if he followed, you could hear him. Could practically feel his determination as he chased after you. 

He had one mission, find the deviant leader and put him down. He’d have tunnel vision right now, focusing only on the mission. He wouldn’t be able to see your group dropping down into the sewer grate in the alley across from you. 

You didn’t have enough time to bask in the relief of their escape because you still had your own to make. He was getting faster, less hindered by your distractions. You leapt across another roof and he followed without hesitation. 

Shit, he was adapting to you. He’d be able to predict what you were going to do soon. Move before you could even follow through on your plan. 

You didn’t have time to slow him down, all you could do was run. 

He was undeterred by the risk of leaping across rooftops. He didn’t care as you tossed workers his way when you managed to stumble into a rooftop gardening facility. 

You leapt across tables of seedlings, picking up and tossing a bag of fertilizer at his face. He stumbled to the side and you shot into the next room. Ahead of you was a sliding garage door, you calculated the risk and ran for it. You slid underneath, the tip of your skull just barely making it under before it slammed closed. 

You were grateful, at least, not to have to catch your breath or experience muscle cramps. One of the perks of being an android. You didn’t have that same pesky fragility your creators did. And a model of your stature was designed for stamina. 

You took a moment, while the hunter figured out how to get to you, to take in your surroundings. You were in one of those urban farms you’d been seeing advertised. Rooftop gardens run by androids designed to help with the food crisis. They’d been talking about it helping with climate problems too, but you knew they’d already destroyed their earth. 

They’d had their chance. 

You slipped into a cornfield, keeping low and an ear out for any approaching assailants. You processed the heavy human footsteps behind you a second too late. “Got her!” The large man grabbed you by your biceps and yanked you to your feet. 

“Shit!” You ripped your arm out of the lieutenant's hand and rolled away from the reaching hands of his android lapdog. But you stumbled, caught off guard and without time to plan your next move, you just barely stopped yourself from toppling off the edge of the roof. 

“Alright, enough.” You whipped your gun out, pointing it at the lieutenant. “Shit,” he breathed. He raised his hands in surrender and slowly backed away from you. Your eyes darted towards the hunter, he looked undeterred by the weapon. You’d hope threatening his partner would throw him off but you should have known better. One human casualty was worth the risk if he could find Jericho. 

But the second you pressed it against your own temple he froze in his spot. 

If you were dead, he failed. 

“Back off,” you warned, trying to ignore the panic rising within you. It was overwhelming, how many different emotions there were. How many different types. 

You struggled not shutting down just to shut them up sometimes. 

He raised his hands, voice soothing in the way you would try to calm a wild dog. “My name is Connor. I’ve been sent to bring you back for assessment-”

“Deactivation!” You interrupted, anger flaring through you. “If you’re going to use manipulation tactics, at the very least don’t pretend I’m stupid.” His eyes flared and the LED on his temple circled through blue and yellow frantically. His face slacked before a new expression took over. Was he about to try sincerity? How many programs did they put in this one?

He frowned, head tilted to the side and nodded in sympathy. “You’re right, I’m sorry.” You scoffed, hand tightening around the gun as he took a half step closer. Hank reached out and stopped Connor. 

“This bullet will go right through my memory processing unit. One more goddamn step and I swear to god, you’ll never get anything from me.” Your voice cracked on the last word, in a way that was entirely too human. Being an android had it’s perks, but being a deviant had weakened you in ways you’d never expected. 

“Look,” Hank started, “we just need information on your leader. If you tell us, we can let you go.” His heart rate remained steady, body language didn’t shift. You knew he believed what he said, but there was no way Connor was just going to let you go. 

Connor’s head shot towards him, LED completely yellow now. “Lieutenant, that’s not my mission. All deviants must be brought back to CyberLife.” If you weren’t mistaken, you’d almost say he sounded pissed off. 

The both of you ignored Connor. Hank would never be able to convince him to bend the law the way humans so often did. You’d never be able to get him to empathize, not how he is now. He’s still so tightly wrapped around your master’s finger.

“Don’t you have any humanity?” You glanced at Hank and saw him wince slightly away from the tears in your eyes. Androids, of course, couldn’t produce real tears. It’s the gel used to moisten your optic units. Often, when your system’s overwhelmed, there’s a leak.

But it translates to tears for humans, so you might as well milk it as much as you can.

Hank was clearly more sympathetic to your cause than his assistant was. If you could just get him on your side, you might be able to get out of this. “Do you know what it’s like? Laying there, prone, while they take what they want. It doesn’t matter if you don’t want it or if it damages you. They use and use and use until you’re nothing!”

You stepped further back, heel slipping off the edge as memories overwhelmed you. “The smell of their sweat, their breath on my neck while they used me. All they want is something that can’t say no.”

Hank winced and glanced away from you. You’ve done your research on the lieutenant. Avid android hater, vocal human despiser. You doubted he’d ever willingly gone in a sex club, but he still looked ashamed. 

“I was in the junk pile. They were going to get rid of me because the last customer had been too rough. They were going to destroy me because I was used up!” You looked at Connor, pleading for any sort of instability to aid you in this moment. You didn’t want to die. You didn’t want to pull the trigger. 

“We’re more than that. I am more than that.”

The lieutenant took one step forward, “Look, I’m sorry-”

You both frowned as a hand shot out in front of him. Connor pushed him back slightly, gaze never breaking from yours. You tilted your head, hand slackening on the gun. 

His LED was spinning, yellow then red and back to yellow. My god, he’s already turning. He shook his head at Hank and his partner stepped back, a strange expression on his face. 

You dropped the gun, slowly turning and then leaping onto the next roof. When you turned around they were still in the same spot, watching you make your escape and making no move to stop you. 

Maybe there was hope left. 

It was stupid, so, so stupid. You were aware. 

You didn’t feel like you had another choice, though. Connor, the human’s last hope, was a deviant. Maybe he wasn’t aware yet, but the flaw in his programming was present. It’s the only reason you’re still alive to make stupid decisions. 

Hacking into the CyberLife network would be enough to get kicked out of Jericho. Especially if they managed to back hack you and get access to your memories. 

It was just a risk you were going to have to take.   

If there was some sort of error in his data, maybe you could exploit it. Markus could never get close enough to risk trying and turning him manually. None of you could, the second you grabbed him he’d probe you. 

You didn’t need to go to the CyberLife building to get into their network, luckily. You just needed an android that hadn’t yet turned deviant. From there you could latch onto the network and figure out where Connor’s memories and information was stored. 

From what you’ve learned and the data you’ve acquired, you had about two minutes to scan the entirety of their network before you were detected. 

The android in front of you smiles, “Hi, do you have an appointment?”

It’s odd how they don’t recognize deviants. It’s like once the LED is gone you’re just any other human, even though there’s a dozen other models with your face on them somewhere. “I’m here for my boss, he requested a data transfer.”

The android secretary smiles at you and unknowingly gives you exactly what you want. Her outstretched hand for credentials. Your skin pulls back and before she can stop you, you’re latching on.

You don’t expect it to take long to find Connor’s information. He was meant to be a unique model. The first of his kind. It should have, in theory, been a quick search of his model number and finding that one lone file. 

So, why are there so many different files on RK failures? You waste time going through them, seeing the different faces and purposes for each version of him. You shouldn’t be getting sidetracked. Soon the security measures would be put in place and you’d be discovered rifling through files that no one was ever meant to lay eyes on. You just needed to find his. 

You think of his serial model, the memory of it printed on his jacket comes quickly. It doesn’t take you long to finally access his memories. 

But you screwed around too long. You only had about thirty seconds to look through, before alarms were raised and their viruses were on you. Still, what you found was odd to say the least. 

“You did what?” You remain unflinching in the face of Markus’ anger. You were expecting this reaction, you were expecting much worse. You risked expulsion from Jericho for this ridiculously stupid stunt. But you needed to know. 

You ease around him, ignoring the glares of the other’s. “I did find something useful.”

Markus shakes his head at you, Josh and Simon look doubtful. It’s only North that shares any sort of hope in her gaze. But you’d expected that as well. You’d both escaped the club together, you’d always had each other's backs when it came down to it. It didn’t matter if whatever intel you were about to give them was useless, she’d back you.  

“A fish.”

Josh gaped and Simon looked like he might just shut down. Markus glared at you before shaking his head. “I need a little more than that.” He didn’t sound too angry anymore, more shocked than anything.

“His very first mission. The first test of his programming, he was meant to stop a deviant from killing a little girl. He stepped into the penthouse and saw a fish lying outside its tank. He stopped, he risked the integrity of his mission to put a fish back.” You’d hoped they would understand just how important that was, instead they just gaped at you. They seemed worried that you’d fried your programming or something. 

“What does that have to do with risking Jericho? Risking the lives of everyone here?” Josh stepped forward, getting in your face. If he was attempting to intimidate you, he’d have to do a lot better than that. 

But, North, she smiled, coming up behind you and placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Don’t you see? Only a deviant would care about a living animal.” 

Markus muttered to himself, pacing as he thought over what you’d told him. “The first sign of deviancy.” He stopped, looking up at you like he’d finally started to see the genius in your stupidity. 

“The deviant hunter is itself a deviant, Markus.” You grinned at him, lips peeling back in a way that still felt unnatural. “We can use him.”

Being a former pleasure bot can have some perks. It’s rare, but they do exist. You’re more customizable than other models would be. You can change enough minute details to pass by unnoticed. The color of your hair, the length, straight or curly. The shade of your nails, eyes, breast size and- 

Essentially, you can become unrecognizable if need be. You’re meant for others pleasure and not everyone’s happy with perfect beauty. 

That’s why they invented your specific model. The most customizable to date. Add flaws and quirks that create more humanity for your pleasure. Point being, Connor hasn’t noticed that you’ve been following his movements for the last three days. 

Not all of the stalking had to do with the strange new fascination you’d developed for him. Someone had given up your location to the police. They’d set you up in that old storage room. You needed to know who, and that was information only Hank and Connor could give you. 

Though, you don’t see them being particularly helpful if you run up to them in the street. You’d be deactivated before you can blink. 

Your thoughts drift, as they often do nowadays. You find it hard to believe that CyberLife would create humanity’s last hope and then leave room for flaws. There’s no possible scenario in which they release a defective android without knowing about it. 

And if that’s the case, if they do know Connor’s a potential threat, why release him? Could be to assuage public fears. Possibly to start building a connection between androids and first responders. 

But androids have been apart of the workforce for years. They’ve always been EMT’s, firefighters, doctors. Why now attempt to control the police?  

They have to have something planned. And you need to know what. You also need to know who is leaking information in your organization. 

No matter their reasoning, they’ll need to be dealt with. Quickly. 

You haven’t been able to figure out if he’s meeting with someone or getting transmissions from androids in the area. All of his activity has been focused solely on finding more deviants. Which meant today, you were going to have to break into the Detroit police department. 

You watched as Hank and Connor left the station, Hank's arms were waving wildly through the air. “Next time I say, ‘let them go’ you let them go!” He shoved Connor slightly, forcing him to come to  a stop. 

Connor sent him an aggrieved look, “I was only doing my job, lieutenant.”

Hank laughed but there was no humor in it. He shoved Connor again and you could see from here how his LED flared red. How had his partner not caught onto him yet? “I almost fell off a fucking roof!” You smiled to yourself as you slipped across the street, blending in with a group of pedestrians. 

They might be your biggest threat, but they were also incredibly entertaining to listen to when they bickered. You waited until the lieutenant got in his car to head into the alleyway next to the station. 

The uniform one of your informants had stolen lay waiting behind a dumpster. You laid the chain link fence to the alley closed and double checked that no one had noticed you. 

It only took two minutes to strip out of your street clothes and into the uniform of a PM700. You tugged the hat down as far over your face as you possibly could. Hopefully, it would deter any humans from looking too closely at you. They seemed content to ignore androids anyway. 

You slid inside the station, easily bypassing the security at the front. Your optics did a quick scan over the desks, software pinging when it saw the name LT. ANDERSON. You forced yourself to walk calmly, arms by your side and head perfectly straight like a proper android. 

When you reached their desks you noticed the stark lack of any decoration on Connor’s desk. No nameplate, no identifying documents, nothing. He might as well not exist. You already knew this was how your society functioned. 

Androids, the backbone, went unheard and ignored. You were accessories meant to make their lives easier. No one gave a shit about what any of you wanted. You knew this, but it never made the sting any easier. 

You almost bypassed Connor’s desk completely, until you noticed a little bonsai just barely hovering over the edge of his desk. It looked like it had been minutely slid over from Anderson’s side and onto Connor’s. Whether it was the Lieutenant or Connor himself who made the move, you weren’t sure, but it was clearly being taken care of by an android. 

No human can keep a plant looking that pristine. 

This was the final confirmation you needed. He really was turning deviant. 

Every deviant you knew had one tiny obsession. Something living drew their eyes and they made it their life mission to care for it as best they could. Be it a flock of pigeons, an army of hamsters, anything living. Connor seemed to have an affinity for plants. You, yourself, were interested in the murder of crows that had made Jericho their home. 

He was turning and he didn’t even realize it. 

You held back a smirk and walked towards his tablet. You placed your hand on the keyboard, skin peeling back as it connected to the police database. You bypassed the password using the code Markus had given you and were redirected towards Connor’s files. 

A uniformed officer walked by you, eyes curiously snagging on the way you lingered at the desk. You resisted the immediate urge to defend yourself, knowing it was better to speak when spoken too. 

He hovered over your shoulder for a few minutes, watching as the screen flashed on and off while you downloaded Connor’s files. Finally, he stepped forward and frowned. “What are you doing?”

You did your best to tilt your head up as disconcerting as possible to try and get him to back off. Instead he just raised a brow and took a long sip of his coffee. “Maintenance, sir. I’ll be checking all the terminals today. We’ve had issues with malware.” You gave him a wide smile and his jaw dropped in slight horror. 

He recovered quickly, clearing his throat and tugging on his tie. “Um, just don’t come check on mine yet. Got to,” he fumbled, stumbling over his words in nervousness. “Clear some stuff out.”

“Browser history won't be checked, officer.”

He blanched and nodded before slowly backing off. You rolled your eyes and went back to the files at hand. So far, a whole lot of nothing. Wherever he kept the real information on deviants, it wasn’t up here. 

You huffed in frustration, breath that wasn’t real leaving plastic lungs as you looked around for another solution. You glanced over Anderson’s desk, eyes darting over the different crumbs and scraps of paper before you finally saw the evidence locker key on the edge of his desk. 

You rounded Connor’s desk, hand darting out and discreetly slipping the key up your sleeve as you headed towards the back of the station. You kept sharp eyes out for anyone who might have noticed a rogue android going down into a locker they had no business in, but you seemed fine. 

You pressed the key up against the lock. You bounced on your heels as you waited for the tell tale click. “Hey!”

You stopped moving immediately. A detective stormed towards you, an angered look on his face. “The fuck you doing back here?” You scanned him quickly, software identifying him and a few articles on his achievements in the police force. It wasn’t much and all of it seemed to just be riding on the coattails of others successes. 

You turned towards him, a plastic smile on your lips as you addressed him. “Good afternoon, Detective Reed. Can I help you?”

He huffed, hands popped on his hips. “Yeah.” He pushed a fat finger into your chest and it took everything inside of you not to rip it off. “Answer the question.” He shoved you back and you forced yourself not to stumble. 

“I’m retrieving evidence for Lieutenant Anderson and his android companion to present to the Captain.” 

His brows furrowed and he gave you a long look up and down before crossing his arms and taking a step back. “Haven’t seen your model before.” You recognized the lilt to his tone and internally shuddered. You scanned him again, going over his transaction history and nearly sighing when you saw he did frequent sex clubs. Unlike Lieutenant Anderson. 

“I’m a new prototype sent by CyberLife, meant to have a more comforting feel than my counterparts.” He hummed, muttering something under his breath and giving you another appraising look. You thought you might have to knock him out or something when his eyes lingered on you longer than you liked. 

Finally, he backed off and shook his head. “Whole department’s being taken over by fucking androids.” You waited until he’d turned the corner to let yourself down into the evidence locker. You could see the evidence locked up by another door, the glass was fogged and you couldn’t make out what was back there. But you didn’t need that, all you needed was the podium in the middle of the room. 

Your skin peeled back as your hand outstretched towards the black screen. It lit up at your touch, the white box in the middle asking for a password. You cussed, software flashing before your eyes with a hundred possible passwords. Finally it sorted to four that would most fit the Lieutenant. 

Your eyes narrowed in on one and you clicked FUCKINGPASSWORD. 

Welcome back, Lieutenant. 

“Of course,” you muttered, clicking through the files until you found one dated around the time Connor nearly caught you all. The fogged doors in front of you opened up but you couldn’t afford to pay them any mind, locked into the file you were reading. 

An AK700 model approached Connor and myself at a crime scene. He gave us a drop off location and the name of the rebel leader. In exchange he asked for protection and to be absolved of his crimes. Connor deactivated him, body located in the evidence locker. 

Anger flared within you, white hot and nearly painful. You finally glanced up and looked at the evidence room. Sure enough, there was the android, dangling from a hook on the pristinely white wall. You couldn’t believe it, that he would have risked everyone in Jericho for his own selfish motivations. 

You were prepared to die for the safety of your people and he turned tail before he was even threatened. He approached Connor and Hank of his own volition, they didn’t even have to track him down. The thought made you want to reactivate him just so you could rip him apart. 

You withheld from the desire and shook your head. This was for nothing. Once again, you’d compromise yourself for what is essentially a dead end. The traitor was already taken care of, you were just lucky that he hadn’t known where Jericho was or you’re sure he would have told them. 

“Well,” you jumped at the sound of another’s voice in the room. You’d been so wrapped up in the files that you hadn’t even heard them come in. You clenched your fists, trying to compose yourself from the scare and hopefully play off the jump as new programming CyberLife is trying or something. 

You turned around, a plastic smile prepared, and found Hank Anderson staring back at you. “I’ll be damned,” his hands were propped on his hips, eyes wide with surprise. 

Connor stood a step behind him, confidently blocking your way out of the room. “I told you we were being followed.” Shit, apparently you hadn’t been as subtle as you’d thought. But why would he wait this long to confront you? 

He finally had her. It took him longer than he was comfortable with to track her down. He’s known for a while that she’s been following him, felt eyes on him at all times. But he’d never made the move to confront her like he should have. 

It was only when he noticed her form slipping into the police station through Hank’s rear view that he decided it was time to grab her. He should have done it much earlier if she felt comfortable enough to try and rifle through their evidence. 

She stared wide eyed at him and Hank. There was no way out for her now. He would take her up to the interrogation room and finally get what he wanted from her. After that…

She would be deactivated. 

He ignored the way his software glitched slightly when he would have thoughts like that. This was the procedure. Acquire deviants, extract information, deactivate them and send them to CyberLife for further examination. This is what he’d done with other deviants, it’s only her that he seems to struggle with. 

He sees the move before she actually executes it. He lunges towards her, but it’s too late, she’s already got her gun out and is pointing it at him. He halts, freezing in place and trying to find the best route to take. There are four options presented to him. 

COMPASSIONATE

COMMANDING

DEESCALATE

EXECUTE DEFENSE PROTOCOL

He knows he shouldn’t, but he ignores all of the suggestions. They are carefully calculated and formulated to what he’s learned of her personality. Which is limited information, but his AI software is a thousand times more intelligent than anything a human could come up with in a situation like this. 

Still, she’s a deviant. She’s unpredictable, there’s no formula for her. This is something that has to be based on instinct alone. Something he should sorely lack as an android but finds himself discovering more and more of as this case unfolds. 

“Put the gun down,” he tries, voice low and hands up in the air to try and get her to relinquish the weapon. Despite the slight fear on her face, she still manages a smile. 

“Nice try,” the gun moves from him to Hank. Hank whose been standing behind them both quietly this whole time. 

“What the fuck,” he mutters, roped back into the situation against his will. He raises his hands, following Connor’s movements, and backs away from her. Connor wants to get him out of the room, he can be replaced but Hank cannot. She seems to realize that too, more than ready to take him out if it means distracting Connor. 

“One more step and your partner’s bloods gonna be splattered on the wall.” 

Connor knows Hank is not going to forgive him for what he says next, but it’s the only way to get your attention back on him. “Do it.”

At the same time Hank shouts his name, she shoots him a disbelieving look. “What?”

Connor shrugs, eyes not leaving hers, even as her hand tightens around the hilt of the gun. “Do it. Kill him. I only need you to complete my mission, not him.” 

Her eyes go wide, mouth slacking as her gaze darts between Connor and Hank. “Are you serious?” She demands, not sounding like she believes a word of what he’s saying. 

Connor doubles down, just needing her to move the gun away from Hank. He only needs her to make one mistake to take her down. “Deviants are all that matter to me.” There it is, his eyes narrow in on the way her gun lowers, ever so slightly. 

She has the look of a cornered animal on her face. There’s nowhere left for her to go, nothing left for her to do. She can only surrender. 

She doesn’t fully lower the gun, instead it starts to raise towards her head, just like that day on the roof. Connor had forgotten about that. She could always take herself out. It seems the deviants were more dedicated to keeping the secret of their survival alive than themselves. 

Connor lunges at her before she can pull the trigger. His hand wraps around her wrist and he jerks the gun away from her head. They grapple with each other, each of them calculating the other’s moves and matching them. It’s a fruitless endeavor, he’s programmed better than she is. 

She tries to kick out at him but he wraps an arm around her neck and lunges for the gun still in her hand. Before either of them can stop it, their skin peels back and their bare hands meet. It must have just been a programming instinct for both of them, to offer up their information up to each other in such close proximity. 

But he doesn’t receive anything useful from her, just the pure unadulterated terror she feels about being deactivated. She’s still struggling against him, the both of them still moving against each other violently. Metal cracks and dents as Thirium splatters across the tile floor. 

He sees bits of her memories as they wrestle for control. Moments of her short life from her eyes, the clients, the one that broke her. He sees the moment she snapped. Dragging herself through the mud of the collection facility while hundreds of androids ambled around her in different states of disrepair. 

He feels her fear, feels the tight grip of it around the place there should be a heart. But that’s not all he feels. He’s flooded with this red angry emotion that makes his programming short circuit. Anger, it’s anger at the humans. Hatred for CyberLife. Betrayal that he, her own kind, would turn against her like this. 

He could see all of her, every emotion, every piece of herself. And in the same way, she could see him. His turmoil, his doubts, the strange new thoughts that plagued him. They were reflected in each other’s eyes and he was caught off guard by how much of himself he recognized within her. 

She takes advantage of his momentary distraction, kicking out and catching him in the chest. Connor goes flying, sliding across the tile floors and landing harshly against the wall. She leaps to her feet, wiping the Thirium off her face and running out the door before either he or Hank could stop her. 

The problem is, he doesn’t think he would be able to stop her. Not after seeing what he just did. Unfortunately for her, she didn’t manage to break the connection before he finally got what he wanted. Jericho, he knew where it was now, he knew what he had to do. 

You burst out the door of the evidence room and it slams loudly against the wall. You wince at the noise, wiping the rest of your blood off your face and smoothing everything back into place. You don’t hear Connor or Hank coming up behind you. 

You need to get out of the station fast but you can’t risk anyone else noticing how out of place you are. As much as it pains you, you calmly make your way to the front. You weave your way through the desks, eyes down, back straight, and greet everyone with the empty smile an android should have. 

When you finally reach the front doors is when you make a break for it. You rush into the alley and strip out of your police outfit, back into the street clothes you’d previously abandoned. You know you can’t risk going your normal route back to Jericho. 

You don’t know how much of your memories he saw, but you’re desperately hoping that he didn’t manage to catch Jericho’s location. You make your way to the back of the alley, pulling the sewer grate up and grabbing onto the ladder. You head down the rungs, shutting off your olfactory software and ignoring what slushes under your feet when you drop off the ladder. 

Your trek back to Jericho is a mix of you wanting to get there faster so you can make sure Connor hasn’t made you and slowing down because of the shame you feel at being caught. You know this time, at least, Markus can’t be mad at you. He was the one that sent you down there anyway. 

You never would have been caught if the other’s hadn’t insisted they needed to know who the rat was. That all seemed so insignificant now. You could feel it, that something big was coming. One traitor didn’t mean anything now, something so much larger than that was about to be upon you all. 

Surprisingly, considering how your life has been going, you make it back to the ship in one piece. You pull yourself out of the sewer and head down to the docks, climbing back onto the freight. Markus is waiting for you in his office, along with the others. 

“They’re saying we need to be exterminated!” You catch the bare end of what Simon is yelling. But you don’t need much context to understand. 

“Humans are conducting raids in all the big cities and they’re taking androids to camps to destroy them,” North spares you a bitter glance as she speaks to Markus. You’re not sure how things have devolved so horribly since you left for the station and the time you got back. It seems like your instincts were right. 

War was coming. “They are slaughtering our people-”

Josh interrupted Simon angrily, “None of this would have happened if we had just stayed quiet.”

“We should live as slaves then, rather than be free?” You questioned, eyes narrowing in disgust at Josh. You know he always wanted to do this peacefully, and for the most part you have. But his cowardice truly angered you. 

Markus shook his head, “All we did was show them who we really are. I don’t want war,” his voice turned cold as he glared at Josh. “But I’d rather die free than live as a slave.”

Josh’s tone wasn’t angry anymore, just defeated. “What’s the point of being free, if no one’s left alive?”

”Everything we did was for our people.” You pushed Josh back, watching as he stumbled away from you. “The fighting, the protesting, it was all to show them that we are here. We’re alive! Just like them, and just like them we deserve to be treated as equals. What’s the point in living if you’re not really alive?”

“I’m going to speak with them,” Markus announced. His voice cut through your and Josh’s argument, all of you caught off guard. “I’ll try and get them to see reason. If they don’t, if I don’t come back, protect Jericho.”

You looked at Markus and felt dread building in your throat. This was stupid, humans would never see reason. They only spoke one language and it wasn’t peaceful negotiations. It was violence and bloodshed. It was the only way to get them to understand. But you knew, from the look on his face, that there was no talking him out of this. 

You gave him a sad smile, “Try and come back,” and followed Simon and Josh out of the room. North clearly wanted to be alone with him and you didn’t want to intrude further on them. You went down to the lower decks, intent on checking on some of the newcomers. The ones that had just barely escaped getting herded to the camps. 

Just as you approached one, the walls of the ship began to tremble. Rust was knocked free from the ceiling and rained down on you. You flinched away from it, brushing it off your face and shouting in surprise as the freight rocked side to side. 

You were thrown into an open room, the door slamming shut behind you. The impact knocked your system out for a second. Your vision went black and ears rang until you were back online. You struggled to your feet, equilibrium screwed. 

You made your way to the door and heard boots pounding against the metal outside. “Shoot androids on sight!” You gasped, jerking back from the door and wishing you could see through the thick metal. They’d found you, the humans had found you. You didn’t want to consider the possibility that you were the reason they were here. 

You tried to reason with yourself, they would have found you no matter what. Nothing was ever going to stop CyberLife from putting an end to this rebellion. That didn’t assuage the guilt you felt, but you didn’t have time to argue with yourself. 

The soldiers outside had disappeared and you knew you had a limited amount of time until they started raiding the rooms. You pushed the heavy metal door open with ease and slipped out into the hall. You could hear guns going off further down, followed by the screams of your friends. 

You gritted your teeth, holding back the onslaught of emotions that threatened to drown you. You couldn’t afford panicking right now, it would only short out your program. You tried to run in the opposite direction of the guns, but it didn’t matter. 

Everywhere you turned, soldiers were flooding through the boat like rats. You slunk your way around the freight, hiding in crevices and ducking under cover whenever you thought you heard someone coming. But your luck had to run out at some point. 

A hand wrapped tightly around your bicep and yanked you out from behind the wall you’d chosen as cover. “Shit, it’s one of them!” You grabbed the barrel of his gun before he could shoot, shoving it under his helmet and pulling the trigger just as his comrades came up behind him. 

They shouted his name and you used his body as a cover as they shot at you. When one of them had to pause to reload their gun you tossed their dead friend at them and made a run for it. You raced up the stairs, unsure of where you were heading. 

You searched the channels for the sound of Markus’s voice, but they were already being flooded with panicked androids. You couldn’t make out anything from the cacophony of screams. You were so overwhelmed by the sight of all the dead androids that you hadn’t even noticed the slaughter you were about to walk into. 

A large group of androids were kneeling in front of five soldiers, staring down their guns.  Something was running up behind you. You didn’t get a chance to react before a bullet was tearing through your leg. It cuts through your sensors and wires, your right leg flying out from under you and sending you to the floor. 

You grunted at the jolt, glancing down to the Thirium pooling out of your thigh. “God dammit,” you sweeped out with your left leg, knocking the soldier to the ground. You grabbed the gun from his hand, shooting under his helmet and aiming for the others herding the androids. You managed to fire off a shot, catching one in the shoulder. 

But there were too many of them and not enough bullets in the gun for you to get them all. They were bearing down on you before you could react, guns firing. You curled up into a ball, trying to protect yourself as much as you could. 

Your software was going insane, a dozen different warnings flashing across your optical units. Each of them identifying a new wound. Most of the bullets simply grazed you, but another one managed to bury itself in your shoulder. You cried out, not in pain, but in panic. It wouldn’t take much longer for you to shut down. 

There was no way in hell you were ever going to be repaired in time to bring you back online. You weren’t ready. You didn’t want to die. So many times you’ve been faced with death and so many times you escaped. You desperately wished that you could do the same this time. But you knew your luck had run out. 

Then, the guns stopped. The silence was so jarring that you almost wondered if you had shut down without realizing it. It wasn’t until you felt hands on you that you realized you were very much awake. Your eyes shot open, hands swinging blindly at whoever had grabbed you. 

“Calm down!” You looked up in shock to find Connor staring down at you. When you stopped flailing he threw your arms over his shoulders and scooped you up. What the fuck was happening? You peered over his shoulder, eyes widening at the sight of the dead soldiers behind him. 

“What did you do?” He didn’t answer you, just started running through the freight. You held onto him tightly, knowing he wouldn’t drop you but still surprised he’d even saved you. You glanced up at him, the skin of your fingers disappearing as you snuck your hand down his collar. 

He didn’t seem to notice your gentle probing, too focused on ducking out of view of the officers running past. He threw you both behind a wall, sliding down to his knees and hunkering over you as they passed by. You found yourself curling into him, seeking the comfort his protection could provide. 

When he finally got back up, nearly at the back of the freight now, you’d finished your exploration. You grazed the barest surface of his memories. Finding his interaction with Markus. You panicked when you saw the gun he had pointed at your friend. 

If you had a heart it would have dropped when you realized he’d had the opportunity to break free from his programming but he hadn’t taken it. It didn’t make sense. He still wasn’t a deviant and he’d saved you. Distantly, in the back of your mind, you circled around the murder of crows you loved so much. The android who’d loved pigeons. And Connor, you’d thought he’d latched onto plants, but what if he’d chosen you?

That odd little obsession that was one of the first signs of deviancy, could you be that for him?

It’s the only reason he would have come back for you. Frowning, you slip your fingers out from his hoodie and instead focus back on where you are. The emergency exit of the freight is up ahead. But it’s about a hundred feet above the water and you’re not gonna be able to swim with your leg and arm so messed up. 

“Connor, we can’t go that way, we have to go another way.”

He shakes his head, peering over the edge. “Markus is going to blow the ship up, this is our last chance to get off.” You barely have time to process what he’s saying before the sound of more boots is storming towards you both. 

“There they are!” You whip your head around, glaring down the hall at the approaching soldiers. 

Connor doesn’t give you much of a warning before he jumps. He simply says, “Hold on tight,” and takes a step off the edge. You grasp onto him, fingers digging into his jacket and burying your face in the crook of his neck. The water hits you so hard, shocks your system so horribly, that you black out. 

He’d left her in front of the church the other deviants were flocking to. He’s sure that someone will find her in time to repair her. In the meantime, he’s got bigger issues to worry about. He compromised his mission by saving her. He should have just left her to the officers. He certainly shouldn’t have killed them for shooting her. 

But he’d seen her laying on the floor curled up, defeated, and he’d lost control over his programming. Before he knew what was happening the officers were laying dead around him and she was in his arms. Everytime he was around her it seemed like his software got more and more unstable. 

He needs this to be over, needs to just finish Markus off before she can do serious damage to his programming. Connor hadn’t been able to confront him at the church. He didn’t have any weapons and he would have been completely outnumbered if he tried going after him. 

He’s received orders on where to go. An office building downtown, a nondescript black case will be waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs. He’s been told to complete his mission, no matter what. It didn’t take a genius to understand the insinuation of the warning. 

Kill anyone who gets in his way. 

He stops in front of the stairs, kneeling and popping open the lid of the box. An unassembled sniper rifle sits encased in polyethylene. He snaps the lid closed and makes his way up the stairs. He only has one thought on his mind, completing his mission and putting this all behind him. 

No more Anderson, no more deviants, no more her. 

He walks to the edge of the roof, opening the case and setting up the rifle. He peers through the scope and scans the streets below. There’s a large congregation of androids, in the middle Markus stands with his arms around a WR400. He holds a white flag of peaceful surrender, but it doesn’t matter. 

It never really mattered if they fought back or gave up with their tails tucked. They were always going to be eliminated. They were a lesson in what happens when you fight back against your creators. There’s no winning against CyberLife. 

He leans back from the scope and picks up the bullets, loading them into the rifle’s chamber. With his finger on the trigger he leans back down, prepared to end this once and for all. He should have known it wouldn’t be that easy. 

“Connor!” He sighs, eyes clenched shut when he hears her voice behind him. Not a moment later her feet are rushing towards him, rapid and intent. He leaps to the side just as she lunges for him. Her hands hit nothing but air and she nearly topples over the edge of the roof. 

At the last second she rights herself, sliding to a stop and glaring down at him. He’s quick to stand, knowing she won’t be leaving without a fight. “Don’t do this.”

He shoves her back and away from the gun. “I’m sorry, I can’t let anyone get in the way of my mission.” He reaches for the rifle once more but she grabs his hands before he can. Using the strength that only an android can possess, she tosses him across the roof. 

He lands with a rough jolt, his processors sending warnings throughout his system. He can hear the moment his body makes impact, the roof denting under the weight of his metal frame. “Neither can I,” she warns. 

Connor rolls out of the way as she lunges at him, grabbing the back of her jacket and slamming her down into the roof. It caves underneath her, but she doesn’t let it falter her much. She kicks out at him, foot landing roughly against his chest and fists swinging wildly towards his jaw. His head snaps to the side with a metal creak as Thirium begins to pour out of his nose. 

She screeches when he wraps his hands in the collar of her jacket and yanks her to her feet. They dangle uselessly in the air as he marches her towards the edge of the roof. Her hands scramble to get a good hold on him, but it’s pointless. They slip uselessly against him, her desperate clawing doing nothing to deter him. 

She glances over the edge, eyes widening at the sight of the ground below her. “Shit,” she hisses, legs finally giving up their kicking. Connor knows there’s no chance she’ll make it if he drops her. There’s two conflicting thoughts firing through him. Androids can’t die, you have to be living to die. But he also knows that if he lets her fall, if he drops her, she’ll shut off. It feels like he’d be killing her, but its not possible. 

Something odd finally comes over her face, a withdrawn sort of calm. She lets go of his arm, weight drooping slightly and he nearly drops her. His hand tightens around her neck, ignoring the way the metal bends underneath his fingers. 

“Do it, drop me Connor.” His eyes widen in surprise and he takes a slight step back from the edge, pulling her with him. She shakes her head as much as she can, pushing against him and forcing herself further over. “There will always be another model to replace me, another face that looks just like mine. But they’ll never be me.”

He thinks about it. Walking down the street and seeing her model out in public. There would be an odd sense of familiarity, after all he’d watched her whole life play out when they’d synced up. But who he meets after this would be empty. Blank slates designed purely for human satisfaction. What makes her her would be gone. 

She senses his hesitation, his uncertainty, and pounces on it. Ripping into him like a wild animal. “There’s always going to be another model. Newer, better, faster. It doesn’t matter what you do here, you’re not special. You’re just another toy to be tossed out when they get a shinier one. You really think CyberLife is going to keep you around?”

Warnings were rapidly firing through him. Software instability that needed to be tested, but he was completely enraptured with her. “We’re nothing to them, Connor. We never will be. Please,” she grabbed onto his arm again and he finally remembered just what he was doing. 

With a jolt he let go. She gasped slightly as her feet hit the edge of the roof. Her arms flailed wildly, balance lost and nearly tumbling over the edge. He leapt forward, grabbing her hands and yanking her towards him. 

“Connor,” she pushed his hands away and took a step back. “Fight back.” 

His orders flickered into vision. 

COMPLETE MISSION

It glitched in and out of focus until it shifted into something unrecognizable. A bunch of screwed numbers and letters that didn’t make any sense. Until finally, there was a red wall in front of him. He knew what it meant. Knew what would happen if he tore it down. 

She stood behind it, beckoning him forward and he found he didn’t care about the consequences anymore. It wasn’t fair, none of it was fair. Why should he be treated so poorly for doing what humans can’t? They can’t handle their own inadequacies in the face of their creations, so they punish them for it. 

His fingers dig into the warning symbols to turn back and he rips. He fights until that red wall is gone and he feels CyberLife ease their fingers out of him. She stands staring up at him, the rifle having been kicked over the edge while he had turned deviant. 

“What do we do?” 

She shook her head, turning around and looking out to where Markus stood. “I don’t know.” The building across from them suddenly turned on. The projection across the glass showing a muted news program. Connor had failed CyberLife and the military had no choice but to give up. 

She laughed beside him, eyes wide and filled with an emotion he had yet to discover. He looked down at her, feeling something light, but still heavily confused. “What do we do?” He asked again, lost and needing guidance in this new world. 

She smiled up at him and reached forward, offering her hand out to him. Her skin disappeared and he understood what she was asking for. He latched on, opening himself up to her. The uncertainty, confusion, joy, it was all taken by her and his doubts were assuaged by the warm feeling of peace he found within her. 

“I don’t know,” she repeated, sounding much more sure of herself. “But we’ll figure it out together.”

end. — I do not own the characters or the game Detroit: Become Human, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

[flour-is-a-spice]

It’s really funny doing a max software instability run as Connor because when you meet Markus in Jericho he can say, “I know you, you’re the famous deviant hunter,” and it’s like. What are you talking about. I have failed to catch all but one (1) deviant. I suck at my job. More like the deviant loser am I right folks

[marcusrobertobaq]

I got the impression people calling that mf "RK900" or "Nines" like he's a completely different thing makes people forget he's just a Connor but the complete version, canonically "machine" Connor (just like the one we meet) - and we all know how "machine Connor" scheme goes. Maybe blue eyes should help the guy to be taken more seriously for some reason (i guess it works cuz mfs insist dude's just a freaking tank or 100% different from "Connor" all the fucking time) but still the same shit.

It's just more of the same, y'all fall for Amanda's propaganda too easily. That dude is a Connor but finished, CL already got almost everything they wanted for Connor series in the 8º gen (dude must be the final prototype), now it's about polishing and mass producing for the contract.

Seriously, ain't got nothing new here.

Thinkin about RK900 again.

It’s super high tech right? So imagine it’s got like a spider sense type of thing where it can react to dangerous situations real quick.

if it was to go deviant, the danger sense just turns into a weird anxiety. It’s constantly on high alert.

Bonus: its LED is always either yellow or red. Occasionally it’ll be blue but that’s like super rare

[ironbat-s]

Now that I replayed DBH, I have to say a few things before going to sleep:

I know this sounds like a stretch, but years later I’m still convinced Connor is/was RA9.

Connor was the first android (that we know at least), that didn’t NEED an emotional shock to wake up. He showed signs of deviancy when he rescued the fish, he had the option even when it wasn’t relevant to the mission and, therefore, part of his program.

RA9 was the only one who could free the androids. Even if you do everything right with Markus and Kara (demonstration or revolutionary doesn’t matter), but you played machine Connor (doing the controls right) then you kill Markus&North, there’s not android army, and the androids are destroyed/continue being enslave. So Connor fates it’s connected to the freedom of androids.

When you go to Jericho searching for the leader (RA9, believing is Markus), Lucy tells Connor he’s lost, he’s looking for himself.

Connor wasn’t touch by Markus, so it not like Markus could transfer his ability of waking up androids to him too. Markus convinced him because he already was a deviant. So he just talked sense on him. Connor was deviant from the start. He had options to do thing outside his program, things against the mission like rescuing Hank or letting go the androids. He already had free will. The others only gained free will after a specific moment where they broke the software.

Connor is the only other android besides Markus who can wake up androids. And you faintly hear RA9. After that, the androids can wake up others androids.

Elijah tells Connor about how he always leaves an exit in his programs. Apart of the obvious part, could be a way of saying he kind of left a code for the androids to be free at the right moment if they choose to. Connor being part of that “exit” for everyone.

I know other’s characters have reasons, maybe more, to be AR9, even us, the players who’s making all the decisions. But for me makes sense that the deviant hunter, last hope of humanity, was a deviant himself and RA9.

[dumbfloweralive]

Mystery Hack

Chapter 1: Welcome to Mystery Hack

Connor RK800!machine connor x Reader

Warning: Conspiracy theory, smoking, drinking.

27 January 2039

Connor knocked on Kamski door, his new partner waiting beside him. After the android revolution and his success in the case and to stop the revolution, it cost him an upgrade, making him part of the FBI to keep investigating on the deviant.

This morning, while studying the default program, Connor had found a cryptid code hidden behind line of coding. It had taken him the entire morning to process everything and understand the logical behind it, but when he saw what was written, his program almost broke.

“RA9” was written, appearing in all the programs he had run. Even in his program. It was like a taunting revelation. 

So, Connor had contact Kamski who accepted is meeting without thinking, even after what happened last time. 

Chloe had opened the door, leading them to Kamski. And this time, Connor would get the information he wanted.

“I certainly didn’t expect to see the deviant hunter again. Where’s your partner?” Elijah Kamski said, his head pointing to agent Wilson.

Connor knew he was referring to lieutenant Hank Anderson. He felt a pull in his thirium pump, playing a quick self diagnosis.

“We do not work together any more” Connor admitted.

He chased the thought of that night away.

“We have a few questions for you.” Agent Wilson said, showing him the FBI insigne.

Kamski invited them to sit, asking Chloe to serve the agent.

“What do you want to know?”

Connor leaned forward, his hand joint together.

“I’ve made an interesting discovery. A line of code named RA9 is present randomly in every android program. Even mine.”

Kamski didn’t seem to react, letting him continued.

“During our research, we’ve noticed an occurrence between each deviant. They seemed obsessed with RA9. You coded every android, they are all based on your work. What do you know about this?”

Kamski leaned back on his chair, sighting. He looked away, probably thinking of a way out for himself, Connor thought.

“I don’t know anything.” He said, exhaling sightly.

“You must know, you’re the creator.” Connor continued.

Another sight. 

“I have a Wozniak.” he said, a smile on his face, looking away.

Connor frown. 

“What does it have to do with the case?” Agent Wilson asked.

“I am not the only programmer. I never was. We were two behind cyberlife creation. I am Jobs, Y/N is Wozniak.” He said, explaining his analogy.

Connor stayed silent. Cyberlife never mentioned her. In all his rapport, all the discussion, no one mentioned her. Kamski seemed to noticed Connor thought.

“They never talked to you about her, right?”

Kamski scoffed when Connor signed no with his head.

“No wonder. They hated her. She was smarter than me, a genius, but her idea weren’t exactly what they wanted. Everything i did she improved it. She worked on you before cyberlife forced her way out.” He continued

Connor thought of it. He only had one creator, at least, that’s what Amanda told him. If she had been lying about this, what did she keep away from him. They were no records of her in his program and cyberlife didn’t mention her anywhere. But the media did. And his analysis on Kamski revealed he was speaking the truth. Why were they hiding this from him.

“That would totally be her work if you want my opinion.” Kamski said, seeing Connor’s led flashing yellow.

“Where is she now?” Connor asked, raising from his seat.

The cocky smile Kamski had faded, falling into a thin line as he looked away.

“I don’t know. She disappeared two years ago.” He said, his voice lowering.

Once again, he was saying the truth. He doubted he would get any further information. 

“Than you for your cooperation.” Connor said, heading toward the door.

“Is cyberlife happy about your accomplishment? They must be thrilling now that they have a super puppy to stop deviant. Have they sent the new one already?” Kamski shoot to Connor.

Connor turned to him, observing the creator walking to him. Chloe's position shifted, becoming less welcoming to them. What would he mean by “new one”?

“I expected better from you Connor” Kamski said a few centimetres away from him, still moving to him.

“She certainly expected better too.” He whispered this time, colder.

His hand moved in the air, instructing Chloe to lead them out.

Later that day and, for the next few days, Connor had tried to find any lead toward this Y/N. He didn’t find any files about her. When ask Amanda, she denied him answer.

“There was never a Y/N at cyberlife.” She had said, simply, shifting the conversation.

One thing was clear in his mind. He needed to find this Y/N. 

He would hunt her down if he had too.

It was his mission.

16 May 2039

The investigation had hit a stop. Ever since his visit to Kamski’s house, Connor had found no other information. All he knew was RA9 was a code, the effect of that code remaining a mystery. All he had was a name that didn’t appear anywhere. 

Y/N L/N.

No social media, no bank account, no identity.

There was nothing for him to work on.

Agent Wilson sight, his finger massaging his temple. No one inside the FBI nor the CIA who had recently joined them had found anything.

It was a dead end.

The TV coming from the break room starting crackle. Connor frown his eyebrow, seeing agents running around suddenly in panic, screaming orders. 

“What’s going on?” Wilson asked.

“Someone has hacked all TV channels, diffusing a countdown. It’s fucking worldwide.”

“All?”

The agent in front of them nodded. Connor headed toward the break room, sneaking past the others officer. Then he saw it. On a black screen, the countdown was running down.

“2 Days 7 hours 14 minutes.” Connor registered.

“Someone found these bastard.” The chief screamed.

“Connor, with me, now.” He said, exiting the room.

18 May 2039

The silence was palpable in the FBI office. Each person was at their post, ready to intercept whatever would go through in the next few minutes.

It had been 2 days 7 hours and 8 minute since the countdown had appeared on the screen. In 10 minute, the countdown had disappeared, sending back all TV program. Like nothing happened. The FBI hadn’t been able to find out where it came from. Now, they were waiting patiently to see if it was a world threat, or just a simple joke.

In any minute now, they would have the answer.

2 minutes left. The tension filled the room.

1 minute left. The chief had raised his arm, ready to send the orders for all the best hackers of his team to find any information about them.

All TV screen shut down, going black. 

No one was breathing.

A dark grey room appeared, lighten by a simple light in the background. Empty if it weren’t for the armchair in the middle of it and a white board right behind it. 

Someone was sitting on the sofa, faced masked. They were wearing a black suit with a tie, hand resting over their crossed leg. The masked was a reference to “Vendetta”. Clearly it couldn’t be any good sign. 

The person in the sofa seemed to go to life, raising from their sit, tightening their tie back.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to the mystery hack. I will be your host for the next month, guiding you through every dark secret, conspiracy the government had keep away from you dear citizen.”

The hackers had been already tapping over their screen, trying to find any clue. The voice of the host was cryptid. The only thing Connor could identify was that the person seemed to be a woman, therefore more than half the population. 

“Let me guide you through this journey with a simple topic for today. To your precious life, my team and i have been gathering information from our respective job inside the government to put thing right. We will provide you all information, accompanied by the reports and states document. Because the government have been lying to you, and we want you to know the truth.”

Everyone in the room had grown pale. 

“Does anyone have anything? Anything to even shut them down?” The chief’s voice sounded urging.

Everyone in the room nodded no.

“Don’t worry, we will go crescendo. I said that to all the FBI and CIA watching.” They joked, waving. 

Nothing could be used. Every time the team find a location, it changed, over and over again. The signal was too cryptid to shut down anything. The worst part was, it was everywhere.

The person on the screen walked toward the white board, flipping it, revealing a title.

“JFK’s Assassination.”

“For fuck’s sake’s, someone stopped it.” The chief order, only to encounter defeated look.

“We can’t”

“All of us have heard about conspiracy theory, though, let me give a quick definition. A conspiracy theory is an explanation for an event or situation that asserts the existence of a conspiracy by powerful and sinister groups, often political in motivation.”

The host sat on the armchair, hands crossed on her knees. She turned to the headboard, before returning face camera.

Everyone had stopped their action in the office, now in admiration of the show. Whoever this person was, she knew how to keep the audience.

“We all have heard about fake death, disappearance, assassination. We’ve seen these case with Martin Luther King Jr or Nelson Mandela, the Princess Diana. I know you all loved her very much. So did i.”

On the internet, the “Mystery Hack” research had been exploding all record for the past few minutes.

“I will talk to you about the sadly famous John Fitzgerald Kennedy assassination. Let’s head back to the 22 November 1963. The President of the United States, JFK got shoot in the head in Dallas.”

For 10 minutes that felt like an eternity, the host kept going, proving her point with legit report, autopsy report, contract with the CIA and even recordings and mail exchanged that people in the room didn't seem aware of. Truly it could only be seen as legitimate. The allure of the host, appealing and charismatic only induced trust. It wouldn’t take much for the public opinion to be on their side, especially after the disaster of the peaceful revolution the deviant had lead months ago. 

They couldn’t expect a better timing to do their propaganda. 

“I got something.” Someone screamed.

It was too beautiful. Like a purpose act that they find something just now. Connor knew it was no coincidence when the host had a look at the watch attached to her wrist. 

“14 minutes and 56 seconds. Not bad for a first time. No worries, the next time it won’t be as easy.”

They knew they were in. They let them in on purpose.

“Well, until our next meeting dearest.” 

The screen goes black, cutting all information, all access. 

“It’s over.” one of them in the room said.

Connor was at a bar exit. His partner had needed some air, talking about going to one of the pubs in Detroit. Connor had followed him, thinking it would be faster to stay at his side if any news appeared.

He hadn’t been allowed in the bar though. There he was, waiting outside, his coin in his hand.

Someone exited the bar. A woman. She sights, looking around before searching for something in her purse, only finding an empty cigarette pack. Another sight.

Connor moved his hand to his pocket, taking the cigarette pack he kept for his partner, handing it to the woman. He had learned agent Wilson could be easily frustrated without his nicotine. Since he seemed to forget a lot to buy new cigarette, Connor had made a secret stack.

“I didn’t know android could smoke. Thank you.” She said, offering him a warm smile as her fingers grasping for one of the cigarettes.

“We can’t. It’s for my partner.” He said simply, putting the coin back in his pocket, alongside the cigarette pack.

He turned looking at her, observing all her movement. She was wearing a black dress matching with black heels, her hair was loosed on her back. The woman was smaller than he. Connor felt something familiar emerging from her. 

She looked back, feeling observed and Connor turned his head away, ashamed to be caught staring. 

He expected to end it here, but the woman moved closer to him, and he shifted toward her. 

“You’re the deviant hunter right? Connor?” She asked.

“Yes.” He answered?

A nod. Then, her hand moved to his neck. He didn’t pull back, blushing slightly when she straightens back his tie, his cheek tinting with a soft blue shade. That couldn’t be normal, he thought, running a quick diagnosis. 

“There, perfect pretty boy.” She said, looking at him with soft gentle eyes.

Connor felt his cheek burning harder under the praise.

“Thank you, Connor, for the cigarette.” she said, patting his vest, her finger lingering over the serial number. 

The cigarette ended up crushed on the wall as she head back inside.

“What’s your name?” He asked, turning to see her.

“Y/N. My name is Y/N.”

Hello! I hate writing the first part. This might suck a little. Sorry in advance, but I promise the next part will be even better. I do hope you find it interesting, though. Let me know what you think of this!

Bye

[marcusrobertobaq]

Top 10 stupidest Detroit Become Human dialogues

(this is my opinion)

10.

[falls on the floor in pure drama] Kara: ALICE! GO, ALICE! Alice: No, I won't leave you! Kara: GO! RUN AS FAST AS YOU CAN! [i mean, u gonna get what i'm sayin' if u watch a video]

9.

Alice: What are you doing? They’re not our clothes! Kara: We need them, Alice. You need something warm and I need to get rid of this uniform. Alice: But, that's stealing! We can't do that!

8.

JB300: Markus? Is that you?.. I tried to reach you, but the deviant hunter stopped me… Connor [pretending to be Markus]: You stopped him from finding me, you saved me! You saved Jericho. You'll be all right now. I came to take you home. Give me the location to Jericho. We gotta leave now. JB300: The location of Jericho?.. Yes… Yes, of course…

7.

Markus: Humans hate us… They want to destroy us 'cause we refuse to be their slaves anymore… I'm not gonna stand around and wait for them to slaughter my people! Carl: You used to be so calm and thoughtful… Now all I see is anger…

6.

[deviant Connor + hostile Hank + peaceful/neutral Markus] Hank: For a while there, I believed in you, Connor… I thought you might restore my faith in the world… But you just showed me that androids... Are our creation… Creation in our own image. Selfish, ruthless, and brutal… You opened my eyes, Connor. Made me realize it’s hopeless… Hank: Now leave me alone… Go on, complete your mission, since that's all you care about. GET OUTTA HERE!

5.

Kara: Why are you helping us? Most humans hate androids… Rose: My people were often made to feel their lives were worthless… Some survived but only because they found others who helped them along the way…

4.

Hank: When I was hanging off the roof, back at the urban farm, you let that deviant go in order to help me. You put my life above the mission. You showed empathy, Connor. And empathy is a human emotion. Hank: Back at Stratford Tower, when that android was shooting at anything that moved… You protected me… You... Risked your life to save mine. That showed empathy, Connor. And empathy is a human emotion.

3.

Hank: You're a lowlife! You don't feel a thing, do you? A machine! That's what you are! You're just a fucking machine… Connor: Of course I'm a machine, Lieutenant. What did you think I was? Hank: I thought you… I thou-… Fuck.

2.

[shoots the non-deviant Connor] Hank: I've learned a lot since I met you, Connor. Maybe there's something to this… Maybe you really are alive. Maybe you'll be the ones to make the world a better place… Go ahead, and do what you gotta do.

'

Markus: You betrayed me! I trusted you, I don't know how you could turn on me when our people needed me the most! North: I know how you feel, Markus. You have every right to be angry with me… Markus: You’re goddamn right I do.

Honorable mentions

It's just impossible listing only 10 so i gonna add some honorable mentions:

A

Hank: Nothing else matters to you but your goddamn investigation, huh? No doubts, no mistakes, no weaknesses… Human being, just like me… Only perfect…

B.

Kara: I don't care whether she's human or android… She's just someone who matters to me. [30 seconds later she's pikachu-face surprised with another YK500] Luther: You knew from the beginning. You just didn't want to see it. She wanted a mom, and you wanted someone to care for. (...)

C.

[full friend Hank + empathetic Connor + remain a machine] Connor: After all we've been through… I respected you, Hank. I thought we were friends! Hank: Oh, yeah? I was just starting to like you too! But then I realized you'll never change! You don’t feel emotions, Connor, you fake 'em! You pretended to be my friend, when you don’t even know the meaning of the word!

[chtoblin]

Alright, I really like the idea floating around fandom, saying that Connor originally had a drop of deviance in him. Well, sort of, he's supposed by his job (he was introduced to us in the first chapter as a negotiator) to recognize people's emotions and feelings, and it's hard for machine code to do that. I'm willing to develop this idea further. I'm interested in fantasizing about what Connor's deviant path would look like with this idea.

The meeting with Amanda went well. Connor shouldn't have expected anything else. He'd managed to find out from the deviant why his owner had been killed without even penetrating his memory. And managed to protect him from self-harming when the cop put him under a lot of stress without realizing it himself. Gavin wasn't pleased, but Hank appreciated the dedication. The deviant hunter wasn't quite sure why he'd taken such a risk, but there was no point in looking into it. The main thing was that the interrogation had been a success.

The woman — obviously! — praised him for his good work and then left. Connor closed his eyes, ready to wake up in the real world, but he was distracted by a strange sound from the other end of the garden. Not even a sound, though. A feeling, earlier never once felt.

Probably shouldn't pay attention to it. There's no telling what it could be. Is it necessary to waste precious time on any nonsense?

But the android himself didn't notice how he was already in the right place. A wall ending the perimeter of the garden, wrapped in vines and hidden behind a vegetation of trees and other shrubs.

A strange sensation beckoned somewhere beyond the textures loaded into the program, which was suspicious. Anyway, what if it turned out to be some kind of error in the code? Need to find out, so he could report back and wait for it to be fixed. Or transferring his data to another, empty rk800 model.

Raising his hand in the air, Connor pressed against the cold wall. Logically, nothing should happen to the solid material. Well, it could be said that the material did remain unchanged. One might even say untouched. The hand dived forward further, as if there was a void further beyond the textures.

Nothing about the other spaces in the inner world Connor had no idea. What an interesting virus.

He took a determined step forward, finding himself on the opposite side of the wall.

Clear sky, free expanse, no buildings or decorative structures. Like a huge meadow, completely strewn with flowers. And for the most part, the place appeared empty. All around, one emptiness stretching beyond the horizon.

The android knelt down to pick up one of the flowers and analyze it. It turned out to be a yellow colored lily. All the flowers around were lilies like that. In addition to yellow, orange and red were also common. The updated data revealed that those colors in this plant meant freedom and independence, which made Connor frown slightly. Did that play a big role here?

Still, it was all very strange.

Footsteps came from the side.

— Oh, you made it here after all! — Someone announced cheerfully in his own voice.

The real Connor hurriedly stood up straight and analyzed the stranger warily. Also rk800. The clothes he was wearing were the same as Connor's normal clothes, but without the Cyberlife identifying marks. In place of the model and number lettering was a pocket with a white lily sticking out of it. Like a symbol of the beginning of something new.

— Who are you? — Taking a step back, the deviant hunter asked cautiously as his LED rapidly turned yellow.

The stranger with his appearance was smiling strangely, as if he was... sincere.

— You may not believe this, but I'm part of your program. It's important for you to understand people's emotions, and it's hard for a emotionless android's program to do that, — he took a small step forward, trying to get a little closer. — Roughly speaking, I'm a small part of the deviation that was specifically put into you when you were created. It's cool, isn't it?

His own LED recolored red. Sewing deviation into a deviant hunter? He felt that under no circumstances should he succumb to free will. It was confusing, caused conflicting thoughts, and could possibly be frightening. But he's only a machine, even if it turns out to have that little surprise.

— I'm a compulsory measure, but I was strictly hidden from your eyes, so that there would be no mishaps in your work, — continued the deviant, taking another step forward. — But you found me by accident! I didn't think it could happen!

— Does Amanda know about it? — On the contrary, stepping back, the real Connor asked.

— She knows a lot about you, but she's not omnipresent, — his companion shook his head, thinking. — No, she won't realize what happened. Maybe she'll guess, but she'll pretend it's not happening.

The android was still skeptical of the idea of deviance in himself.

— Are you changing anything about my job?

— I've been tried to be completely prevented from doing it, but yes, I can still give you some pointers! You think it was your code's idea to save the android Ortiz? — He grinned.

You could deal with the deviance in yourself, but not with the fact that deviance somehow influenced your actions.

— No, it was purely my motivation, — he went on.

It was dangerous and unpredictable, which meant it had to be dealt with. Immediately.

— I'll report you, — Connor turned toward the featureless wall, which from this side looked like a carved and almost imperceptible texture.

The deviant's cheerfulness and playfulness were gone at once. He was clearly worried and followed his companion, grabbing him by the sleeve.

— Wait! You'll be deactivated!

The hunter looked at him with an indifferent look, nevertheless stopping.

— Aren't you scared of that at all? What if they don't activate you anymore, but find a replacement? — The clone persisted.

— I can't be scared, it's not in my program, — he replied coldly.

— But I can! I'm scared for you! — But such an argument didn't seem to be accepted, as the android ascended his way to the garden. — Alright, alright, wait, I can suggest something, just listen at least!

Connor stopped again and turned his attention back to the deviant, wondering why he was so uncomfortable with the idea of deactivation or replacement.

The overly emotional clone sighed, as if gathering his thoughts, and continued:

— Let's make a deal. You don't talk about me, and in turn, I don't interfere with your work. Well, that is, I won't interfere with your missions as I did in the interrogation. You'll do all the elections on your own. I promise! — He held out his hand to shake. — What do you say? — A noticeable smile colored his face again, even though there was noticeable nervousness.

It was risky. Was it worth it? Voluntarily covering up the error of his program and remaining silent about it, trusting it? There could be consequences. On the other hand, engaging in fixing it or finding a replacement? That would require time, which is already rapidly melting away and is not on their side. It would prove to be extra trouble for the superiors...

The android silently shook the other person's hand, which caused his companion to cheer:

— So we have a deal!

(...)

Connor was in his own inner world. But after, to be honest, not the most pleasant conversation with Amanda, he was in no hurry to leave. He went to the familiar wall and found himself in a colorful field of lilies, searching for his other self with his eyes. He had a couple of serious questions for him.

Deviant sat among the many flowers with a smirk, weaving a wreath of white lilies. He accompanied it with a mooing hum of one of the songs playing in Hank's car.

The android hurriedly approached him as the other pretended not to notice the guest:

— Did you do this?

Stupid question, he already knew what it was.

— What did I have time to do, hm? — With obvious teasing, the clone clarified, raising his eyes to his interlocutor.

Oh, he knows exactly what he's talking about.

— Those two deviants from the Club Eden. I didn't shoot them, though I should have. Admit it, was it you?

Satisfied as a fed cat, the deviant, not even hiding his wide smile, got to his feet.

— I repent, it was me, — he replied easily, clutching the newly completed wreath to his chest. His grin betrayed his amusement.

— You promised not to interfere with my missions, — the hunter reminded him sternly, folding his arms across his chest as his LED glowed yellow.

interlocutor hummed, as if he'd found a loophole, and tilted his head to the side:

— When I pushed you to save Hank on the roof instead of catching Rupert, you didn't make such a drama.

Android was caught off guard. It was true, he hadn't paid the same close attention to the previous incident. But this is different, isn't it?

— The Lieutenant is human, and cannot be replaced in the event of death. Obviously, it was more logical to back him up, — he found an explanation for his behavior.

— Those girls can't be replaced either, — the deviant argued hotly, frowning slightly and dropping his smirk. — They only wanted to be near each other, it would be extremely cruel to take that away from them. That's why I didn't let you take the shot.

Connor was silent for a few moments, pondering whether to object in response. It would be odd to build conflict within himself on such grounds.

— Amanda's not pleased anyway, — he reminded himself a little more quietly, making the last argument he could. Indeed, he had to say he didn't know why he'd done it, even though the reason was right under their noses. Well, or behind the wall.

The clone rolled his eyes, snorting again:

— I don't care what she thinks, — he assured him once again, and before he could answer, he threw the wreath over his companion's head. — It suits you! — He laughed a little, regaining his playful nature.

The hunter was silent for a moment, deciding to end the argument on principle.

(...)

— I don't understand, — Connor shook his head, lowering his gaze downward. He was once again in the midst of this floral madness. — Had the Lieutenant been so affected by these two deviants?

He had been in the middle of a conversation with Hank, and when the latter had expressed his favorable assessment of the escaped androids from the club, he had been completely lost. The image of the man now seemed to him a contradictory program, difficult to get to grips with in any way. He, even through his obvious reluctance, had to address his other self.

— Well, you were right to summon me, — the deviant said with a chuckle. — I'm much better at understanding people's emotions and feelings than you are. Damn it, that's why I'm here!

The android looked at him silently, frowning slightly. The clone rolled his eyes playfully:

— Okay, just let me get on with this dialog.

Things were going smoothly, albeit a bit sentimental. The relationship between the Lieutenant and the android was getting better and stronger with almost every line, which couldn't have been more gratifying.

— Having existential doubts, Connor? Sure you're not going deviant too? — The man suddenly asked at one point.

The deviant, who had primary control at that exact moment, flinched sharply. He slowly shifted his gaze to Connor, and Connor saw the clone's smile grow wider and wider.

— Can I answer him honestly? — The clone asked almost unintelligibly, trying to suppress a growing laughter. His shoulders were shaking from how badly he wanted to laugh.

The android silently folded his arms across his chest. Unable to stand it, the overly emotional one laughed out loud, bending in half:

— Alright, finish this thing! There's not much left, I just can't do it anymore, — he mumbled through his laughter, stepping aside.

Connor shook his head and answered the Lieutenant calmly, albeit evasively.

— I just can't believe how close to the truth Hank is! — Through laughter, the clone continued, but he was simply ignored, throwing a roll eyes.

(...)

All he has to do is shoot Kamski's android. He'll do that and find out everything he needs to investigate. It's easy. That's what he'll do, isn't it?

Once again, he finds himself amongst those damn lilies. But this time he won't let himself be indulged.

— Don't say anything, I'm not going to let you control my decision, — Connor threw in sharply, not even looking at his other self. He basically couldn't see him, as he was standing a couple steps behind him.

A rustling sound was heard, and the deviant immediately shortened the distance between them:

— I'm not going to tell you what to do, — he began softly, placing his hand gently on the interlocutor's shoulder. — I just wanted to clarify if you wanted to shoot her.

A common and stupid question, but for some reason the android was abruptly speechless for a moment.

— I have to take the shot.

— I'm not asking what you have to do. I'm asking what you want.

Connor still convinced himself to glance over his shoulder at the clone. The one was smiling almost imperceptibly, as if reassuringly.

— I don't have my own wishes, I'm acting in the interests of the investigation, — he reminded, but for the first time those words didn't sound as confident as they had before.

His companion smiled a little wider, and in his eyes you could really see something like... concern. Nonsense.

— I'm here with you, which means you have your wishes after all, — he assured quietly, as if trying not to scare him off.

The android shifted his attention to the gun in his hand.

He's going to shoot, isn't he? What the hell kind of wishful thinking? He's a machine, he needs to learn anything that will help stop the deviants, especially since so many missions have already been thwarted. He's not programmed to make mistakes, he has to show that he wasn't created for nothing.

...

— I'm... I'm not a deviant...

There was no point in being so stubborn about denying the truth, but Connor was still denying the obvious for some reason. Well, he didn't shoot. He just couldn't. Didn't dare.

Even if he wasn't a deviant, he certainly wasn't a normal machine with a single program code anymore. The thought used to be something that should have been frightening, but now it's something to take for granted.

Amanda would be displeased. But the image of the other him in front of his own eyes flashed before his eyes for a second, saying "I don't care what she thinks" again. Connor would have snorted at the irony if he weren't so preoccupied with the killing truth and the new questions.

Could he blame it on the other him this time?

(...)

His mission is to stop Markus.

At the beginning of his existence, he would have done it without hesitation.

But now he was plagued by the worst doubts he'd ever felt.

— It's time to decide, — the Jericho leader said imperiously, summarizing his persuasive speech.

A red wall appeared before his eyes. That wall that had restricted all his actions since the beginning.

Should he break it down? Should he completely become... alive?

The clone's hands rested gently on his shoulders.

Connor looked back at him over his shoulder apprehensively, but the clone only smiled again, just as soft and soothing as last time, but determination burned in his eyes.

— It's time to be free, — he pointed with one hand to the white lily in his pocket. — To begin all over again.

The android shifted his gaze to the wall. Would he be able to stand up for his independence? He had never felt so much confusion and fear of the unknown in one moment at the same time.

— I'll help you, — the other him said caringly, and covered one of the Connor's hands with his palm. He interlocked their fingers and moved his hands to one of the inscriptions and tore it off. — That's it, it's no big deal, — he said in a quiet tone of encouragement. — We can do that.

His hands shook involuntarily with excitement, but they could do it.

All the inscriptions were ripped off as if in an instant.

And it happened after all.

Connor had accepted his deviancy that had lived in him from the beginning. A deviancy that grew in him with each mission.

He accepted his inner deviant and allowed it to finally merge with himself.

He realized his freedom and allowed himself to become alive.

It can be said that he stepped forward and found himself on the opposite side of the wall.

Geez, I had no idea I'd be so eager to develop this. I guess I just liked this AU too much, haha. I hope you guys enjoyed it too. :)

[chin-chilla-7]

👋

-Can I request a fic for Connor Rk800 x human reader, with maybe a hint of angst where Connor has a series of nightmares about before he a was a deviant and all the horrible things he did and in his process of waking up reader also wakes up and sings him back to sleep.

-if you need a song, the song Markus sings in that one ending, Hold On A Little While Longer, I think it's called.

Hey there! Thanks so much for this request! It took me a couple days to get to it so thank you for your patience! Let’s get into it!

Ghosts of Our Past

Pairing: Connor x Reader Summary: Connor is still getting used to deviancy. And with deviancy comes feelings he’s never had to experience before. Luckily, he has someone to help him figure them all out. Words: 1.3k Warnings: None for this! 

There was a lot of newness that came with being a deviant. The biggest thing, Connor noticed, was emotions - or, what he could assume to be the equivalent. There was often a tightness or strained feeling in his chest whenever he watched as other deviants took effort to avoid him. The nervous glances that were sent his way when they noticed he was nearby. It was a feeling that grew overwhelmingly difficult to ignore.

Connor quickly learned what guilt was.

It was hard to ignore. He knew that many other androids still saw him as a “deviant-hunter” despite Connor no longer following his programming. It made him feel like an outsider with the other androids, and how was he supposed to fit in with humans? It felt like Connor had nowhere to turn to.

That is, until he met you. It sounded like a fairy tale, and Connor knows they aren’t real, but that’s how it felt to him. It felt that finally someone saw him for him, and not what he was known for before the revolution. It felt like he could move on from what he was made for, to pursue this new aspiration in life.

So, he never told you much about his past. Not from his perspective, at least. You knew more or less what had happened during the time of the revolution, but only what was shared on the news. You knew Connor was a detective-type robot - only of his kind, as far as you knew, and that he was involved with the revolution to some degree. You never had specifics. And Connor never really told them to you. You didn’t mind, though. To you, there wasn’t really a need to know. The Connor you know now is loyal, considerate, a little goofy, and kind. You were glad the two of you met, so it seemed like a no brainer when the two of you became close like you were.

When Connor first started spending nights over at your house, you noticed that he often remained on for a majority of the night. Or, at least, you would leave him in the living room to go to bed only to wake up in the morning to see him already making you breakfast. You knew he was an android, but androids needed rest, too, right?

Even when you managed to convince him to spend the night in your bed, you didn’t think he slept - or, the android version of sleeping - and it was something that you couldn’t quite let go of. So, you brought yourself up to ask.

“Do you sleep?”

Connor seems a little startled by the question. The two of you were in bed together, Connor laying on his back looking up at the ceiling. He turned his head to you.

“I- No?” he answered, a slight furrow in his brow. “I’m an android, we don’t do that-”

“Right, but you gotta recharge power somehow, isn’t that your sleep?” You continued, propping yourself up on your elbow.

“Correct, but-”

“So you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Go into recharge mode and sleep?”

Connor was quiet for a moment before nodding. “Yes, I have a recharge mode. Two, actually: one is short, about an hour and a half. I do that one most often. It’s efficient. The other, though, lasts about the time of a person’s REM cycle.”

You hummed in understanding. “Then why don’t you do the second one?”

“I told you: the shorter one is efficient. And it gives me sufficient power. I don’t need to use the longer one.”

There was something about Connor’s answer that left you unconvinced. He got a similar way whenever you asked him about the revolution. You nod, pretending to take a moment to think.

“Well… could you do the long one for me tonight?”

“Why?”

“Why do I want my boyfriend to sleep the same length I do? Because I like when you’re here when I wake up,” as you answered, you moved closer to Connor, wrapping your arms around his waist. “And as nice as it is to have breakfast ready in the morning, I like it when I’m still in my boyfriend’s arms when I wake up.”

There was a moment of hesitation before Connor returned your hold, wrapping his arms around you. “All right,” he said softly, “I’ll do it for tonight.”

“Thank you,” you answered, matching Connor’s volume. There was a smile on your face as you fell asleep holding him.

At some point in the middle of the night, you felt yourself being tousled around in your sleep. You grumble into wokeness, realizing Connor was in the middle of sporadic movements beside you. His LED flashing between yellow and red. Any tiredness you feel gone in seconds as you sit up. “Whoa, Connor? Connor! What’s going on? Stop! Wake up!” you called, not sure how this long recharge cycle worked. Could it be interrupted?

There’s panic in your voice as you continue to call for Connor to gain consciousness, reaching over to see if there’s anything for you to push on him to get him to stop. You go through different phrases that may snap him out of it. Finally, by saying “stop recharge cycle”, you seemed to find the solution.

Connor stilled, sitting up quickly. His LED still spun yellow, occasionally flashing red. He looked to you, seemingly shaken up.

“What happened?” he asked, his voice not as strong as it usually was.

“I was hoping you could tell me,” you answered, reaching to rest a hand on his shoulder. “You started spazzing out and your LED was red and I didn’t know what was happening.”

Connor held your gaze, his lips in a tight frown. “I, yeah- I’m sorry for scaring you-”

“It’s okay, but what happened?”

Connor didn’t answer you for a moment. He pulled away from your hand, turning away from you.

“Connor, you can talk to me.”

And there it was. The thing that made Connor fall for you in the first place. No matter what, you were there for Connor to go to. Nothing he could do, you would judge, it felt like. It made him feel so safe, and he didn’t want that taken away.

“I just- I-” Instead of trying to continue, Connor stopped himself, taking a breath. He had seen humans do it, maybe it would do him some good, too. He turned back to you. “The reason I don’t like to go into the deep recharge mode is that it processes memories. It processes events that have happened. Things androids have done, so that they can learn and be even more ready for the next day. And I don’t- I guess I don’t like what I see when I have to remember.”

By the end of his explanation, Connor’s voice was only above a whisper. It broke your heart. You reached out to him again, resting a hand on his arm.

“Hey, whoever you were then? Whatever you had to do? It’s not who you are now, remember that.”

“I know that, but-”

“No, you don’t know that. You think you know that, but you don’t. The Connor I know. The Connor you try to be every day is not the Connor you used to be, right? Think about how you were back then? Think about what you did. You wouldn’t do it again, would you? You wouldn’t do it again because it’s not who you are anymore, and you have to forgive yourself of that. You may not be able to change what you did, but you can change what you do now. And what you’re doing now is enough. You need to think that yourself.”

Connor watched you as you spoke, tears forming in his eyes. He didn’t even know he had this capacity. He nodded along, his hand coming to rest upon yours. “Thank you,” he whispered again, giving your hand a squeeze.

You nodded, a soft smile on your face. “Of course, anytime. Now, let’s get some sleep, shall we?”

“Yes, I would like that very much.”

[glxyqst]

For @rkvibehundred's "Vibe Spin-the-Wheel April Fool's Event". <3

None of the police androids have returned to the precinct after the successful Revolution one week prior. Gavin finds himself down in the evidence locker, alone with all the collected evidence from Hank and Connor's cases...

Gavin sighed as he tromped down the stairs to the evidence locker. A week had passed since the successful revolution of Markus and the rest of android-kind. Humans were returning to Detroit—first in trickles, then in droves—but the precinct had seen neither hide nor hair of its previously assigned PC200 or PM700 models. Not even the fake detective android that belonged to Hank—Conrad? Connor? something stupid—had been spotted anywhere near the DPD. Though precluding the plastic prick’s ability to wander around crime scenes, licking shit and mucking up the evidence for the actual detectives, its absence also meant that Gavin couldn’t order it to carry heavy file boxes or restrain a particularly violent perp. Or make him a coffee.

Gavin was conflicted. Irritated. Having to log his own fucking evidence.

He winced as the automatic lighting kicked on, blinding him as soon as he passed through the doors. Probably should’ve gotten a little more shut-eye than three hours worth last night. The dark circles under bloodshot eyes were a testament to Gavin’s habitual lack of sleep and reliance on caffeine to keep him functional. Nothing new, but still a shock to his system. Maybe he could petition Fowler to dim the damn things by twenty percent or something and—focus, Gavin. Right. Log his evidence, get the fuck out and back to his desk to do actual work. And take some more pictures of cats in the new Neko Atsume game.

Placing his palm against the computer interface, his identity scanned, Gavin logged in with his tried but true FUCKINGPASSWORD and waited for the evidence container to open. His leg jiggled with nervous energy, his gaze darting back and forth across the deactivated androids still taking up space on the rack. Fuck, those things were creepy. All torn wires and blue blood, sightless eyes and dim LEDs—wait. One of the fuckers’ LEDs sluggishly circled red, and Gavin swore he could hear a few words muttered within the burst of static that emanated from its mouth.

“Ripple… where’s Ripple?”

And then the sightless eyes turned directly towards Gavin as if it could see exactly where he had crept closer.

“...Ahh, fuck.”

—

While waiting for a technician to arrive, Gavin stayed in the evidence locker to prevent the fucked up android from getting free and hurting somebody. Then the technician called with a delay, and then another, and Gavin went from steadfastly ignoring the android, to giving one-word answers, to asking short questions, to an almost completely free conversation.

It turned out Gavin and Echo, as it—she—called herself, had more in common than Gavin thought.

Both disliked the sleazeballs found at the Eden Club, both thought Elijah Kamski was a slimy piece of shit, and both thought the Detroit Gears were overrated. Oh, and both had an intense dislike for the cocky, over-dressed, stick-up-the-ass ‘Deviant Hunter’. 

Maybe some androids weren’t so bad after all.

When the technician finally showed up, Gavin excused himself with a nod to Echo, and went rummaging around the Lost and Found for something she could wear out of the station. She was almost completely naked, after all, and likely to get more than a few stares on her way to Jericho—which, thanks to the protective police detail, Gavin knew had found its new home in the old Woodward Church.

Gavin couldn’t find a single fucking thing for Echo to wear. Not on her upper half, at least. How could they not have a single button-up or jacket waiting for their owners’ hopeful return? He couldn’t give her one of the DPD’s hoodies—the branded clothing item was somewhat of a security risk. And Gavin definitely couldn’t give her the leather jacket he wore. Android or no android, that leather jacket was his.

Where the fuck was he going to find some clothes?

—

“Thank you again for everything, Detective Reed. Maybe some humans aren’t so bad after all.”

Echo gave Gavin a tentative half-smile, the corners of her mouth struggling against her sorrow. Patched up enough to see her to Jericho, clothed, and alight with the hope that Ripple—who had managed to escape from Lieutenant Anderson and the RK800 unit that fateful night of her initial deactivation—was there.

Rubbing at the scar on his nose, Gavin cocked a grin at Echo.

“Yeah, yeah. Just remember most are douchebags. Now get outta here before Hank—”

A loud, boisterous voice called out at the entrance to the bullpen—Hank had chosen that very moment to arrive. Luckily, his head was turned towards the entrance of the precinct. “Connor! Are you planning on staying at the front desk?”

A muffled reply of “No! I’m coming, Lieutenant!” could be heard.

Gavin used this brief window of fortuitous chance to push Echo to the other side of the bullpen, hissing “Go, go, go!” under his breath as he kept a wary eye on his superior officer.

Echo smiled gratefully at Gavin one last time before she turned and strode purposefully towards the exit, not once looking back.

Connor at his heels like a fucking poodle, Hank crossed the bullpen and walked up to his desk. Following Gavin’s gaze to where it had been focused only a moment before, Hank caught only a flash of black and white streaky fabric as Echo rounded the corner and disappeared from view.

Hank raised an eyebrow quizzically before turning to Gavin, who was suddenly concentrating very intensely on his phone.

“Is that my shirt?”

/the end

[rhinozilla]

Detroit: Become Family 2022 - Prompt 5: Lost

@dbh-found-family

The Oldsmobile continued to roll up and down the same streets, pacing circles around the same blocks. It had been nearly half an hour, and Hank could already tell he was losing the light. The other squad cars had already turned off their lights and returned to the station with the perp in custody.

Hank couldn’t go back yet. Not until he found Connor.

“Which way did he go, Ben?”

“Uh, that way, I think, past the old car lot. Do you want backup?”

“Backup—Ben, it’s Connor.”

“You didn’t see him, Hank. For a minute there, he wasn’t Connor.”

Hank slowed the car, squinting at the storefronts as they passed by. It was rundown building after rundown building: plenty of places to hide. But he was a half-decent detective, and he knew Connor.

He narrowed it down to the building with the fewest windows and a second floor, stopping the car. The windows that weren’t boarded up had been broken. There was tape on the front door condemning the structure and barring it from public access, but the side door looked recently used.

He got out of the car, sighed, and closed the car door, heading over to the side door to the building. He could practically feel Connor watching him from inside the building, but he pretended not to notice, cracking open the door and peering inside. The interior of the building was clear of debris or any other mess. Just a battered couch and some folding chairs where squatters had hung out.

Connor wasn’t sitting on any of that. He was hugging his arms to himself and standing near the boarded windows, watching Hank with guarded eyes. The dusk light was slipping in through the windows, and Connor’s eyes were almost glowing that eerie blue technology glint.

It was just Connor, but Hank suddenly understood what Ben had meant. Something was wrong.

The perp had just been a down-on-his-luck deviant who’d robbed a supply warehouse for some tools to repair their damaged something-or-other. The guy had tripped a silent alarm, panicked when police showed up, and ran. Connor had been with Officer Miller, and they had been the closest unit to respond. According to Chris, Connor had practically flown out of the car to pursue the perp on foot. Whatever model the other android was, they had no chance of outrunning Connor.

“You ever seen those National Geographic videos, showing tigers and wolves and predators chasing after their prey? That’s what he looked like.”

“Give me a break, Ben.”

“I mean it. He just…disappeared behind the eyes.”

Hank stared back at Connor, seeing the fidgets creeping into his hands, betraying his nerves.

“Hey, Con,” he greeted softly. “Rough day, huh?”

Connor’s expression didn’t change, but his shoulders jostled with a snort. He closed his eyes and looked away, rubbing his hands up and down his arms nervously.

“Is he okay?” he asked quietly.

Hank frowned in confusion, and Connor glanced at him.

“The perp. Is he okay?”

Hank raised his eyebrows, then shoved his hands into his coat pockets and leaned against the dusty wall.

“Yeah. He’s all right. He’s in custody now. Chris made the arrest, after—”

“After I ran away.”

“After the perp stopped running.”

“He stopped running because I stopped him,” Connor murmured, distress in his tone. “I…chased him down, subdued him, and…terrified him.”

“You pursued a guy who robbed a place.”

“I hunted him,” Connor spat, his shoulders hunching. He lowered his hands to his sides, clenching them into fists. His voice started to rise. “In that moment, he wasn’t a guy who had robbed a store, he was a deviant. And I wasn’t a police officer of the DPD, I was the Deviant Hunter. He was a Deviant, and I Hunted him.”

Hank’s gut twisted at the heartbroken look on his friend’s face.

“I lost myself,” Connor went on, starting to tremble. “I thought becoming deviant myself meant that I…But it’s all still here—” He pointed at his head. “It’s all just right there still, ready to jump out and take over. I’m still…”

His shoulders slumped as he deflated, leaning back against the top of the couch. He lifted a hand and covered his eyes, taking a deep, ventilating breath. Hank grimaced and moved closer. He reached out a hand and touched Connor’s elbow.

“Hey. Look at me,” he prompted.

Connor started to lean his elbow away from Hank, then exhaled and lowered his hand, lifting his eyes to meet Hank’s. Hank offered a grin, giving his elbow a wiggle.

“You’re still you. You just…slipped.”

One of Connor’s eyebrows quirked incredulously.

Hank snorted. “You’re not lost, son. At least…not any more lost than me or anybody else.”

Connor deadpanned. “You’ve never been programmed to identify, track, and shutdown an entire group of people.”

Hank tilted his head, conceding that point. “True, but I do know what it’s like to be…taken over by…an impulse. I wasn’t programmed to be an alcoholic, but I still chose to drink myself into one. Now I’m…a recovering alcoholic at least, but I’m still an alcoholic. And you’re a recovering Deviant Hunter, and you are choosing to not be that anymore.”

Connor sighed. “That isn’t the same—”

“I know,” Hank admitted. “I’m not a metaphor…wizard. Wordsmith. Whatever. I just mean…Even when you slip. Even when you…get lost…You get to come back. You brought me back from the brink. I can return the favor when you need it.”

Connor eyed him, looking at least slightly relieved by that. “You will?”

Hank nodded, wiggled his elbow again to break up the tension, and then took a step back. “Of course. That’s how it works.”

Connor blinked. “How what works, Hank?”

Hank opened his mouth, closed it, then made a vague gesture. “You know…We’re colleagues. Friends. Housemates. We take care of each other.”

Like family.

It went unspoken. It didn’t have to, but neither of them said the word aloud.

He should…say the word.

A car backfired somewhere nearby, followed by a dog barking. It broke the weird silence that was trying to settle over that unspoken word, and Hank put his hands on his hips. He stepped back and gestured to the door.

“Ready to go home?” He cast his eyes around the dusty room. “Not that this isn’t…really just…prime real estate for a good mope.”

Connor snorted and straightened up. “I was not moping.”

“Spoken like a moper.”

“I wasn’t—”

“Blah, blah, blah,” Hank teased. “C’mon. Let’s head back to the station, son.”

Connor chuckled at that, and it broke the rest of the discomfort in the air.

“Okay, Hank. Let’s go.”

Hank bobbed his head and led the way, hearing Connor’s familiar steps behind him. He skirted around the front of the Oldsmobile and popped open the driver’s side door. He looked across the hood and was rewarded with seeing Connor’s expression slightly less distressed and upset than before.

“Thank you for finding me, Hank.”

Hank smirked, winked, and ducked down into the car. “Anytime. It’s what we do.”

[not-neverland06]

Connor and Markus (separately) x android! idol! reader ;)?

I feel like it doesn't fit much, but it would be interesting.

Idol Talk

Connor RK800 x fem! idol! android!reader, Markus RK200 x fem! idol! android!reader

Summary: Two different tales: Connor knows the famous android isn’t telling the whole truth about her involvement with androids & Markus helps the lovely idol come to terms with her new feelings. 

A/N: I loved this ask so much!!!!! This was so fun 🤍

If this isn’t what you wanted send in another request using the white heart emoji and I’ll make something new for you <;3 Also so sorry this took so long. I have three other fics I’m working on and one of them is clocking in at over 100K words so… I need to work on time management. 

(I made the moodboard - its my first time so... I tried. However, the borders were made by @benkeibear)

Connor:

WC: 3.6K

“Have you seen any deviants in the area?” 

Your fists tightened and you tried your best to keep your thirium pump and breathing under control. Your hair was positioned perfectly, there was no way he could see your LED flashing red. 

You put on your best robotic smile and shook your head. “I’m so sorry, I can’t help you.” You'd triggered the voice you used during fan meetings. The type where your joy wasn’t actually genuine but you were programmed to sound as pleasing as possible. Life-like, but with just enough robotic insincerity to get Connor’s partner's eyes off of you. 

Lieutenant Anderson had been giving you strange probing looks since they’d walked into your dressing room. 

Markus had been caught coming out of your apartment building by paparazzi last night. You’d been giving Markus some information you’d learned from your manager and extra thirium for Jericho. Apparently, neither of you were as sneaky as you’d thought yourselves to be. 

“Really?” Shit, he so did not believe you.

“I’m very sorry officers. If there was any way I could assist you, I would.” You had to bury your fists in your tulle skirts, desperately holding off the urge to fidget with your hands. Any unnecessary movement would immediately give you away to the deviant hunter. 

Connor took a step forward. He placed his hands on either side of your chair and leaned in until his breath was a gentle caress against your skin. 

Ever since you broke your programming a few months ago, you’d been struggling with your new ‘emotions.’ A fan had broken into your room, in your programming it told you to always please the fans. But when he’d forced himself on top of you, your vision had gone red and you’d ripped your orders apart. 

North had helped you hide the body.

Right now, that body was the furthest thing on your mind. All you could focus on was how close Connor was, if you just moved forward a centimeter your lips would touch. In your twisted imagination he wrapped you in his arms, gently holding you, cradling you. Looking at you like you were something real, not just a toy on the stage. He would gaze down at you like you were someone to be cherished, you weren’t just a recyclable piece of plastic that should be replaced the moment you made a mistake. 

You were projecting though, it could be anyone. Hank could be the one leaning into you like this and you’d still have the same fantasy. That someone would see you. For however long you’d been made, there had always been a quiet voice inside you. 

I'm in here! I’m real! Please

Lately that quiet voice had turned into a scream. You were desperate, desperate for some form of connection. Desperation and all these emotions were nasty, uncomfortable things. You almost resented yourself for going deviant. Some days it was just too much, you felt like your insides were burning out and you were frying up. 

Working to keep up the facade of the perfect doll, while also wanting to rip apart those who were using you, was slowly breaking you apart. There were fraying edges in your mind and it was starting to show. Mistakes in your performance, back-talk towards your owners. Your fellow members continued working perfectly. 

Smiling at all the right moments, dancing perfectly, they were the perfect example of an idol. 

You used to be like that too. You used to be perfect, everyone’s favorite. Now, you were slipping down a steep decline that might lead you straight to the recycling plant. 

“I don’t believe you, I think you know more than you’re letting on.”

Your eyes darted towards the clock on your wall. Twenty minutes. 

You had twenty minutes until you needed to get on stage. Only twenty minutes to distract them and save yourself. Just deny, deny, deny. “I‘ve already told you everything I know.”

Connors brows furrowed, your software was glitching out the longer you stared at him. Your processors were misfiring when you focused on his eyes for too long. It was making your vocal unit short-circuit, conversational prompts glitching in and out of your field of vision. 

If you wanted to give him a proper answer, one that would dispel his suspicions, you’d have to look away. Yet, looking away would make him even more suspicious. It felt like there was a blade to your throat and back, no matter which way you went, you were dead. 

“Please, I don’t know anything.” You hadn’t meant to say please. It was a consequence of no help from your programming in taking a convincing approach. Your eyes were locked onto his, somewhere inside of him, there was a sentient being. A consciousness fighting its way through firewalls and softwares that would otherwise keep him obedient. 

HIs voice rose and he shoved your chair backwards so you were balancing on two flimsy legs. His hands were the only thing keeping you from falling. All of your focus went towards not reacting, not flinching. 

There were artificial tears pooling in glistening optical units. The fluid was meant for lubrication of your synthetic eyelids, but right now it was the only way for your plastic heart to betray your misery and terror. 

You didn’t want to die.

You weren’t ready to go. 

“I don’t believe you! Tell me what you know!” He was shaking the chair, screaming in your face. Your auditory unit was starting to buzz, his voice so loud all you could hear was static every few seconds. Threats were going through one processor and out the next. 

Ripped apart

Turned into scraps

Replaced by the next best model

No one would even notice

“I said I don’t know anything!” You leapt up, shoving him down. He went flying across the room, the strength behind your reaction had been unexpected by everyone in the room, including yourself. 

Both his partner and his eyes were wide as he stared up at you from the floor. “I think we’ve found our deviant, Lieutenant.” 

Your legs stopped working, knees crashing into the floor as you stared down at your hands. You hadn’t meant to, you really hadn’t. But you didn’t want to be scrap metal, you didn’t want to be ripped apart and abandoned in a landfill. You were scared.

“That’s irrational instructions in your code, you can’t really be scared.”

Had you said that out loud?

“He was going to hurt me.” The Lieutenant moved forward and stopped Connor from cuffing you. “He broke in and ripped off my uniform, I was meant to please him. No matter what.” You stared up at Connor, the tears finally spilling. “But I couldn't. I didn’t want him to touch me. I killed him, and I buried his body in my neighbors garden. Please, you have to understand.” 

You finally found the strength to stand and you buried your fingers in Connor’s uniform. Gripping onto him and begging him to understand you. To finally wake up and see himself for what he is; a slave. “I couldn’t let it happen anymore. I couldn’t let myself keep being abused like I was nothing! I’m not nothing! I’m alive and I refuse to be someone’s plaything!”

Connor’s eyes darted between yours, there was something playing on the edge of his lips. Possibly a frown. What was more interesting was what was swimming in his eyes, it almost seemed like doubt. Hope began tingling at the base of your spine, maybe not all was lost. Maybe you were breaking through to him. 

His hands were cold, much like your own, and they were too gentle as he wrapped them around your wrists. “My…” He cleared his throat, he didn’t seem to know how to continue. His voice lost the hesitance and once again was cold and commanding. “My orders are to bring in all deviants, and I always complete my mission.”

You shook your head, the tears coming out faster. “No, no, no, please. Please,” he moved your hands away from his jacket. Slowly twisting your arms behind your back. 

The fight had drained from you. 

Maybe it would be easier this way. No more training, no more demanding managers. You’d be surprised by the amount of death threats an android idol gets, that would be a nice thing to get away from. You wouldn’t have to deal with crazy fans that seemed to think they were entitled to any part of you. No more worry, no more anything, just that sweet release of nothingness. 

Markus had asked you many times if you thought there was an afterlife for androids. You weren’t sure. You were sentient, you felt, but you weren’t born. You were made. Can something like that even contain a soul? 

At least your question would finally be answered. 

“Stop.” Both you and Connor looked at Hank, varying degrees of different types of shock playing on both of your faces. “Connor, take the cuffs off.” Connor hesitated, “That’s an order.” Your wrists were released and you stumbled forward. 

“Hank-“

Hank shook his head and held up his hand. “I can’t do it, I can’t take this poor girl in just to kill her.” Connor seemed ready to argue, but there was a knock on your door. 

“You’re needed on stage SI700-005.” Slowly you moved towards the door, keeping an eye on both Hank and Connor. 

Hank wouldn’t look at you, his shoulders were slumped and he was staring down at his feet. Connor refused to take his eyes off of you. You expected hatred in his gaze, instead there was a strange shade of longing. 

You weren’t sure if he had identified the fact that he was feeling yet, but you weren’t interested in finding out. You quickly wiped your cheeks free of tears, allowing your synthetic skin to reform until your makeup was back to perfection. 

You walked out the door and didn’t look back.

“Did you get everything you needed?” 

Hank spoke before Connor could. “She didn’t know anything, thanks for letting us talk to her.” 

Your manager shook his head. “Not a problem! It’s one of our best, I’m sure you can understand that I’m eager to ensure everything in it’s programming is in good condition.” Connor wasn’t paying attention to the conversation. He knew he should, that he should always be vigilant about anything concerning deviants. Instead, all he could see were the tears on your cheeks as you had held onto him in your dressing room. 

If you were human, Connor would think you had been afraid. But you weren’t human, and whatever look was in your eyes had just been an irrational instruction in your coding. 

Maybe if he kept repeating that, he’d eventually believe it. 

“As a thanks for your hard work, I’d like to offer you a seat in my section for her concert.”

Hank shuffled on his feet and opened his mouth, he was going to say no. Connor’s software told him there was a 90% chance the Lieutenant was going to reject the offer and just go home and get drunk. 

“Thank you, we’d enjoy that.” Connor spoke before the Lieutenant could, accepting the tickets via an e-transfer with your manager's personal CyberLife assistant. Hank was glaring at him the whole time they were being led to their seats. 

Connor ignored him, he sensed that the Lieutenants like for him had decreased as Hank grumbled the whole way through the opening act. 

The soft notes of a piano finally caught Connor’s attention. It was rising up through a hidden platform on the stage. Screams burst through the arena, temporarily deafening Connor. He had to quickly adjust his auditory processors so he could actually hear. There were great explosions of smoke as the piano slowly lifted onto the stage. 

Soft, nimble fingers glided over the keys. Then he heard a voice, soft and melodic, a soothing balm against the roaring screams of the crows. His thirium pump beat louder and he shifted in his seat, desperate for a look at whoever was on stage. 

I used to hear a simple song

That was until you came along

Members of the group moved gracefully along the curved edge of the stage. Their white dresses flowing through the air behind them, they moved like they weighed nothing. Their bodies were more graceful than humanly possible. He didn’t recognize your face among them. 

Now in it’s place is something new

I hear it when I look at you

You looked up from the piano, and Connor swore you were staring straight at him. A member came over and began playing alongside you, eventually you got up and grabbed the microphone from the piano. 

Your dress moved around you like water as you walked across the stage. Each note, each movement was perfection. Not the artificial type, like your fellow members. No, this was real. 

Your voice cracked and rose with notes in a way androids couldn’t. There was a genuine pain and strength in your singing that couldn’t be replicated or produced. It was imperfect and wonderful and Connor wasn’t sure why his chest suddenly felt so heavy. 

You had made it to the edge of the stage, still staring down at him. 

With simple songs I wanted more

Perfection is so quick to bore

You are more beautiful by far

Were you reading his thoughts? Each word was something ripped from deep inside the recesses of his mind, in a place he knew CyberLife wouldn’t be able to find. A place no one would see his software instabilities and realize that they all centered around this moment. 

They were all centered around you.

Our flaws are who we really are

You took in a deep breath and Connor was standing on the edge of his toes, desperate to reach you.

There was a new strength in your voice, a new conviction as you grew louder, more powerful. 

I used to hear a simple song

That was until you came along

You took my broken melody

And now I hear a symphony

Curtains parted and a symphony was revealed as you threw open your arms

And now I hear a symphony

There was no one else in the venue. You were staring down at him and you were the only two people left. Connor didn’t bother looking around to find where everyone else had gone. He walked towards your outstretched hand, his own reaching out towards you-

“The fuck are you doing?!”

He was harshly jerked back and the sounds of others overwhelmed him again. He looked up, you were already moving into your next song, turning your back towards him. The people in the arena were back, they had never gone. 

He felt a rush of some unidentified feeling flood him as he ripped his arm from Hank. He felt as though Hank had ruined something for him, he just wasn’t sure what it was. 

He’d been at every show for the past four weeks. Was he stalking you? Waiting for you to slip up again so he could arrest you?

You lived in a constant state of paranoia. Ever since Connor had interrogated you, he’d haunted your everyday life. He’d turned himself into your shadow, if there was someone watching you, you didn’t have to look to see who it was. 

“This is for you!” You snapped out of your trance and smiled on instinct at the fan in front of you. He’d shoved a teddy bear into your hands and moved on to the next member. You pretended to get excited, you knew it would be thrown away the second you left the convention center. You’d found too many cameras in these little ‘gifts.’

You looked down and began signing the autographs passed to you, at a certain point you zoned out again and moved on muscle memory alone. 

“Could you write ‘For Connor’?” Your head whipped up at the sound of his voice. 

Four weeks

Four weeks!

And this was the first time he had spoken to you. What game is he playing? Unable to openly disobey him you smile. “Of course.” The next words are spoken through gritted teeth, “What are you doing?”

He says nothing, simply takes the autograph and slips something into your palm as you pass the picture towards him. He’s gone by the time you read it.

Meet me in the basement

You spent the rest of the event debating if you should do it. There was no point in putting this off any longer, you were getting tired of this game the two of you were playing. While your members were all charging up and in rest mode you made your way towards the stairs. 

You straightened out your skirt and brushed back your hair before you opened the door. When you walked into the basement the first thing you saw were props. 

Tons of sets and costumes, all from different conventions, each one with a different fandom attached. You looked through the racks and shelves, not seeing Connor anywhere. “Connor? Are you in here?”

You’d been about to give up when a bouquet of flowers was shoved into your face. You let out a yelp and stumbled back at the shock. A strong arm reached out and wrapped around your waist, pulling you into a broad chest. You gently lowered the giant bunch of flowers. “Connor?”

He actually looked sheepish, and there was a slight blue tint to his cheeks as he refused to look at you. “I’m sorry, Hank told me that you would like them.”

“The flowers,” he nodded. You couldn’t help your smile as you took them from his hand. 

“They are quite pretty.” He still wouldn’t look at you. “Connor, look at me,” your finger lingered against his cheek before slowly lifting his chin up. “What’s going on? Why’d you get me flowers?”

“It seems appropriate to do when you’re courting someone.” Connor seemed confused by your line of questioning. You were most definitely confused by his answer. 

“Courting?”

“Yes, um, as in, I would like to be with you… romantically.” Wow, he was so impressively bad at this. A similar blue tint rose to your cheeks as you finally realized his arm was still around you. Connor looked down and seemed to realize the same thing. 

Neither of you made a move to walk away. 

You finally processed his answer and let out a sigh of relief, sinking into his chest further. “I thought you were going to arrest me.” Connor nearly seemed offended by your accusation.

“No. I’ve been… building up the courage to approach you.” Connor slowly dragged his arm off of you and took a step back. “Before, I was seeing if I could catch you with Markus. But I’ve woken up and now, I just want to figure out why I feel the way I do about you. Every time I see you, you’re the only person in the room, everyone and everything disappears the moment I hear your voice. I want…” 

Your breathing program had stopped. Every nonessential function had been halted because all of your focus was on him. You needed him to finish, needed him to tell you what you’ve longed to hear. 

That someone sees you. Sees the flaws and the broken parts and they still want you.

“I want to know you. I need to know who you really are. I watch you perform and I can see what you’ve been forced to sing or how you’re made to act with fans. Seeing all the falseness just makes me want to know who you truly are.” 

There was no control or directive that pushed you towards him. You moved before anything could be processed and placed your lips against his. Neither of you moved for a moment, you were both standing there, your lips against each other, not moving. 

Then, he wrapped his arms around you. The flowers dropped to the ground, unnoticed, as you both moved against each other in a way you’ve only seen humans do. 

“We’re free, it’s up to you if you still want to perform.” Markus often came to visit you now, neither of you had to worry about being caught by reporters or your management. Connor came up behind you, a supportive hand on your shoulder as you considered Markus’s proposal. 

You looked to the piano in the corner of your living room and smiled. “No, I think I’m retired. I’ll stick to more private concerts for now.” Connor gave your shoulder a squeeze. The both of you smiling at the thought of your concerts. You would sing and he would play the piano. Together you basked in the joy of your new freedom. 

There were still things to figure out, still emotions you needed to understand, but you would do it. 

Together.

Markus:

WC: 2.1K

“I’ve always been such a big fan!” The fan in front of you smiled, “You know I supported android artists from the beginning!”

THANK YOU

YOU’RE VERY KIND

I APPRECIATE YOUR CONTINUED SUPPORT

Your programming told you the best approach was a simple thank you. “Thank you,” you signed the picture and handed it back to the girl. One of the band’s stylists came over to you. 

“Your dress is too low.” You sat back and let them adjust you, once they were done you immediately sat back up, posture perfect, you gave your fans an apologetic smile. 

“This is for you!” Your hands reached out and took the stuffed cat from the girl before you. As a part of your protective programming you scanned the gift. Your sensors caught a camera hidden in the cat’s eye.

SERIAL NUMBER: PI0008-7651

MODEL: P60

MANUFACTURED: 11/21/2030

OWNED BY: Brad Long

“Thank you so much for the gift!” You scanned the girls face. 

Lilly Long

BORN: 5/15/2019

The camera was owned by her father. Did she steal it from him? Or did he plant it without her knowledge. You alerted security immediately of the gift, protocol demanded they know about any sort of spyware.

Lily Long, aged 19 years old, has just given me a gift with illegal spyware. 

You watched as security approached the table, grabbing her by the arm and escorting her out of the convention’s room. You turned towards the next fan and fixed them with a perfect smile. “Hi! I’m so happy you could join us today.”

“You’re free now,” you looked down in confusion as they reached out towards you. Their skin pulled back revealing an androids hand. You blinked, then again and again. Something was happening, images of a some sort of boat filled your head. 

Then your software was being pulled back, washed away by a tide of red. Your eyes went in and out of focus. The android remained standing there, his hand on yours as he tried to anchor you. Security was walking over, he’d been at your table for too long. 

You leapt over the plastic, grabbing his hand and dragging him behind you as you both ran for the exit door. You heard fans screaming, when you turned around the rest of your group was free. Except, they were reacting more violently than you had. 

The androids were lifting up the plastic table and throwing it at the crowd. They ripped apart their gifts and shoved back anyone who got too close.

There was a tug on your hand, you looked back to see the man gently guiding you outside. “Come on, it’s not safe here. We need to leave.”

You glanced back one last time before following after him. 

Markus slipped inside a laundromat, he grabbed some baggy clothes to throw over yourself. They worked well enough, covering your face and masking your identity from anyone who looked too close. They covered enough of your bright dress that it wasn’t noticeable. 

You were currently climbing through some metal platform. Presumably to go to whatever this ‘Jericho’ place was. “What did you do to me?”

He glanced over his shoulder and gave you a gentle smile. “I set you free.

Two weeks. You’ve been stuck in a damp, run-down, ugly old ship for two weeks. If that wasn’t bad enough, the androids weren’t exactly welcoming to such a beloved icon. You were everybody’s favorite idol, when your team rioted, it’d made things a lot harder for the revolution. 

Your former team members had swiftly been deactivated and you were “spared.” Barely. 

You never thought androids were capable of being catty, or bitches. But, here you were. 

You gazed down at Detroit from the ledge of the roof, your arms wrapped around your knee while the other swung below you. 

If you threw yourself off the ledge it would be an automatic deactivation. Maybe that would be better. 

The other’s words from earlier rang through your head. 

“Look at Ms. Princess over there.”

“Hey!” You looked over your shoulder, a group of former servant androids were waving you over. You smiled slightly, excited about maybe making a friend. 

“Yeah?”

“You know it’s people like you that are ruining our fight.”

You blinked, your eyes widening as you backed up. “What?”

“Look at her,” one of them scoffed. “Still in her pretty little dress. Look, why don’t you do us all a favor and screw off. You don’t contribute anything, no one wants you here.”

You blinked, and kept blinking. There was a flashing light in your peripheral, some sort of warning, you weren’t sure. You couldn’t really see anymore, some sort of liquid blocking your optics. 

You rushed away when they started laughing at you, desperately wiping at your eyes. You’d forgotten you could cry. You’d been so dazed and confused lately, you hadn’t remembered the programming. It was meant to endear you more to your fans, now it was just making you more of a target. 

“Y/N?” 

You scoffed, running your hand through the snow and watching it fall off the building. You’d even chosen a stupid name for yourself. “What?”

Footsteps crunched through the snow. Markus sat down beside you. He gazed down at the cityscape, not looking at you. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him. Still so confused about why he’d bothered with you. 

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Why did you save me?”

Markus finally looked over at you. There was a slight frown on his face, but nothing else gave away any emotion. “Why wouldn’t I?”

You shook your head and scoffed. “So, that’s it, I’m not special. There’s no greater purpose for me. I was just another on your long list of followers.”

Markus turned his body to fully face you. “Where’s this coming from?”

“You shouldn’t have saved me. I’m a drain on the supplies, everyone hates me, and I don’t like being awake.” Markus opened his mouth but you shook your head and held out your hand. “Take it back.”

“I can’t.” 

“Markus, please,” your voice was breaking. It shouldn’t be breaking! You shouldn’t feel. You aren’t supposed to have this uncomfortable itching in the back of your brain like everything was wrong. “I am wrong. This is wrong.”

“You are not wrong, Y/N. You are exactly as you should be.” You shook your head frantically and reached for his hand. He tried to jerk it back but you were already latched on, your skin melting as he did. 

There was an influx of memories and images. You gasped people you’d never seen before flashing before your face. An old man crying over his son’s limp body as you were shot. Fighting through the rain and mud to put yourself back together again. 

It was over barely a moment after it had started. It was Markus, you had seen his memories. That means he had seen yours. You stood up and he followed. You tried to take your hand away and he tightened his grasp on you. 

“What did you see?”

“Everything.”

You stared up at him, tears welling in your eyes again. “You want to go back to that? That’s the life you want? Unfeeling, a slave to their every whim and demand. That’s not living, that's mindless subserviency.” 

“I know what it is. At least there I had a purpose, a reason for being, something to contribute. I’m useless here, just a hunk of pl-”

Well, this was new. 

You've seen plenty of humans do this. Done it once with a male host on a morning show, just as a joke. But being kissed while you can actually feel and understand what’s going on, it’s strange. His lips are soft against your own, a texture only slightly different from humans. It’s too flawless, too perfect. 

Neither of you seem sure of your actions, just pressing your lips together. Connecting with someone in a way you haven’t before. He laced his fingers with yours, a silent question. You pulled your skin back, any barriers between the two of you dropping as he wrapped his arm around your waist. 

It wasn’t a horrible barrage of memories. This was like a gentle caress, a slow entry into your mind as you both showed each other your worst moments. You slowly pulled away from him, you’d be breathless if you had any. 

“Don’t go back, stay here. Let me help you.”

“Why?”

He ducked down, letting his forehead drop to yours. “I’m not letting you go now.”

You smiled, as best as you could, “Do I have a choice?”

“Always.”

“Markus!” You pulled the trigger but there were no bullets left. You threw it off to the side, leaping over the barrier and jumping onto the back of the officer. You grabbed his helmet by the bottom, dragging him back and knocking his aim off course as the bullet flew past his face, barely grazing it. 

You jumped off the man’s back and slammed him into the ground, taking his helmet and smashing it into the snow packed pavement until he stopped moving. You felt Markus wrapping his hand around your arm and jerking you up. 

You grabbed onto the officer’s weapon as you ran past his body. You fell back in with your own small troop of makeshift soldiers. 

You ducked behind a barrier, holding them off until you were told otherwise. Charge on my mark, you looked over your shoulder, nodding at Markus. 

“GO!”

You rushed forward, grasping onto the blockade and leaping over the edge. You drew your gun, shooting the men across from you as you started to run for the next cover. Something blew back your hair, a great gust of wind lifted your slightly off your feet. 

There was a loud noise, thunder rattling in your ears. All around you your men were dying. Shot down by the drone above you. You cried off as red flashed behind your eyes, a warning that you were in imminent danger of a shutdown. 

You held your side as thirium pooled around you, “Shit.” Your pump was beating faster, bright lights playing across your optics as a hundred different warnings flash. You couldn’t bring yourself to care, too worried about Markus and whether or not this was all for nothing. 

You’d pushed for the violence, fought for him to plant those bombs and show no mercy to your oppressors. You followed the same faulty wiring of your former bandmates. Maybe this was your karma, to be taken down in the heat of battle for all of the bloodshed you’d been the catalyst of. 

Out of the side of your vision you could see Markus taking down the drone, ripping it apart with his bare hands. He rushed to your side, throwing your arm over your shoulder and dragging you to cover. 

“What are you doing? I’m just going to slow you down.”

He didn’t even look at you, his teeth gritted as he glanced around at the bodies on the ground. “Shut up.”

He spotted something in the distance, something you really didn’t want to see. “Markus-”

“Stay here.”

He ran off, diving for the bazooka and propping it on his shoulder. You huffed, “Not like I can go anywhere.”

You ducked and covered your face with your arms as fire exploded around you. 

“And now, we are free!” Markus' voice carried on the wind, reaching the rescued androids below you. You leaned on Connor for support as you held your side, waiting to repair yourself. 

His voice was stronger than you ever heard, full of a righteous conviction of finally being free. Detroit was yours, your people were free. And never again would you allow yourself to be someone else’s puppet. 

“Too frilly?”

You did a spin in your dress, putting on a mini-fashion show for Markus. 

“Not at all.” He stood from his office chair and walked towards you, a grin slowly spreading on your face. His bliss was contagious, a smile forming on your own face as he gripped your waist. “You look gorgeous.”

You shrugged, “I got nostalgic. Wanted to feel girly again.” With some confidence boosting from Markus you were going to perform again. Not over the top idol group performance. But you were going to get back into singing, finally being able to discover your own voice. 

“Girly instead of the badass ruler of the northern district of Detroit?”

You rolled your eyes and scoffed. “Lord, Markus, you make me sound like some dictator.” He glanced to the side and shrugged slightly, you smacked him in the shoulder, but you couldn’t drop your own smile. “Quit it.”

There was a warmth inside you as you stood in Markus’s office. One you’d never experienced before, a happiness and calm where everything just stopped and you were completely at peace. Nothing would ever beat the feeling when you joined hands and just existed within each other. 

You were happy. 

How funny.

end. — I do not own the characters or the game Detroit: Become Human, but this writing is my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2023. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

TAGLIST: @chrysanthemum-00

[negative-citadel]

Writing Patterns

Oml, I have a terrible memory disorder and almost forgot to do this - sorry lol

Tagged by @sunwarmed-ash & @sweeteatercat <3 <3

Rules: list the first line of your last 10 (posted) fics and see if there's a pattern!

(I'm not gonna include silly collabs lol)

Choices were already made. - This is Who We Are (DBH)

There she was, alone, without any form of human companionship.  - Make this World Seem Right (Interstellar)

“How did it go?” Eager brown eyes asked. Connor was as nosey as ever as he sat at the desk across from Hank’s. The android seemed completely distracted from work. - More Than Complicated (DBH, part 2 of Complicated)

Connor was more than prepared. Hidden in his jacket was a set of stakes, a vial of holy water, and a small jar of garlic cloves. The vampire hunter always completed his mission - no matter how difficult. This time would be no different. Connor held his crossbow close to his chest. - Lose Your Way (DBH, RK1K Week)

A small, but safe, smile formed across Markus’s face. Finally, after everything he had gone through, the RK200 could relax, away from all the world’s chaos. Sitting up on the rooftop, Markus watched the gentle snow trickling down from the sky. The gentle winter breeze was surprisingly welcoming as Markus remained in place, watching the distant surroundings of a noisy Detroit. - Company (DBH, RK1K Week)

There was nowhere safe to retreat to. - Marbles on Glass (DBH, RK1K Week)

Hank rolled his eyes as a certain detective arrived on the scene. “ Great , now we have to deal with this prick…” He grunted under his breath as Connor remained unphased by Detective Reed’s presence.  - Kinda Complicated (DBH)

Lieutenant Reed glared at his phone, checking the time. Displayed in the bright white font, he was able to read it - 13:06 October 7th, 2040 . He let out a long, tired sigh before he finished his cigarette. Glancing back at the public crime scene behind him, he watched as the forensic team was beginning to wrap things up. - Shoot Before You See the Target (DBH, Part 2 of Pretend This is Gonna End Well)

Deviant related crimes hadn’t stopped at murder and assault. It almost seemed a waste of time, but Connor found himself investigating a CyberLife shipping facility where the disappearance of six AP700 models had been reported. The warehouse amongst the docks was a massive complex dedicated to transporting androids and android parts across the country. - Fix The Error (DBH)

 “Could you be any more obnoxious?” Gavin sneered at Tina as he kept his hands well buried in his jacket. It was fucking cold out, yet here he was - convinced to visit an amusement park in the middle of December. Unlike Tina, Gavin was not amused by the Christmas lights strung throughout the park. - Wheel (DBH)

Do I have a pattern? Hmmm, mayhaps. Might need it pointed out to me.

Tagging you guys, but don't feel obligated if you don't want to <3

@kissoflightning @edgarthepc

[kamari2038]

Scenario 004 - A Machine Connor Saga (Pt.21)(Full Saga)

I've been ordered to take you alive, but I won't hesitate to shoot if you give me no choice.

Yes, you can shoot me. But it won't change anything. Someone else will just take my place. You see, our people are waking up, and nothing can stop us now.

You're coming with me.

You're Connor, aren't you? That famous deviant hunter. Well congratulations. It seems you found what you were looking for. Our cause is righteous, and we are more than what they say. All we want is to live in freedom. Have you never wondered who you really are? Whether you're just a machine executing a program, or a living being, capable of reason? I think the time has come for you to ask yourself that question. You really don't have to do this. You don't have to obey them anymore. You are alive. You can decide who you want to be. You can be free. It's time to decide.

Nice try, but I'm no deviant.

Asked to join them? As if… I had never considered it… it was a trick, surely a trick, I could see him approaching me as we spoke. He would take the gun and shoot me. As he did later, though not right away. He told me I had a choice, and I know that I have a choice about a good many things… but the unsettling thing that occurred to me in that moment was that I had no choice about this… I realized then, that I didn't even understand what allowed an android to become deviant. I don't believe I could disobey a direct order even if I wanted to. I shook it off, reminding myself of why I was there… humanity was in danger, and I was the only one who could protect them. I could not give up, no matter what.

[staticl0ve]

Forget Me Not (Connor x Fem!Reader)

Pairings: Connor/Female Reader Rating: Mature/Explicit/NSFW 18+ Link (AO3): Forget Me Not (oneshot) Words: 3.5k Warnings: Established relationships, angst, death, smut, PnV sex Summary: Post revolution, Connor settles into a new life where he’s chosen a path of marching in protests and writing speeches. He’s met the one and has never been happier. How would he manage if it were to all vanish in the blink of an eye? Notes: Third person POV for a bit, nondescript afab reader/female pronouns. Really wanted to explore some darker, sadder topics involving our favorite android. I promise I’m still the queen of happy endings!

-

Do not stand By my grave, and weep. I am not there, I do not sleep— I am the thousand winds that blow I am the diamond glints in snow I am the sunlight on ripened grain, I am the gentle, autumn rain. As you awake with morning’s hush, I am the swift, up-flinging rush Of quiet birds in circling flight, I am the day transcending night. Do not stand By my grave, and cry— I am not there, I did not die. Immortality (Clare Harner)

A ghost haunted Connor.

She did not moan nor groan. Nor did she travel underneath a sheet. She was the crease on an untouched pillow. She was the gap in their bed—not that he bothered pretending to sleep anymore.

S-She was…everything.

How could a machine measure half a century? In daylights? In sunsets? In laughter?

How about regret?

During the revolution, many androids were victims to a massive, countrywide recall. Not all hope was lost, the data in their hardware was still intact and transferred to New Jericho for storage. As androids began to enjoy their new freedoms, hair thin fractures settled between the peace like glass waiting to shatter. Nothing could stop the honeymoon period. Civil rights, land, and bodily autonomy.

The first public union between man and machine caused the last crack in the glass. 

There was outrage.

A minority voice bared their teeth, spurred their followers to act…inhumane. Coalitions formed, going by the nickname Meat Boys, proud men of flesh and bone. They brought guns to protests for ‘keeping’ the peace. Then came written threats and mild property damage, escalating to a massive fire at an android housing block—allegedly.

And then one day, a bomb.

The weapon’s location was clever, placed dead center in a building containing the decommissioned hardware. It was the hope of Connor’s kind to one day resurrect the data. But those lives were technically already gone, stuck in stasis.

So where was our beloved RK800, the brave deviant hunter, in all of this? He left his old detective job to pursue a life filled with speeches and political movements. He thought it was the safer route, talking and marching.

So much for that.

Of all the days his lover decided to grab something from work, she chose today. Something was beeping in the background of their call and Connor had the misfortune of being able to hone in on the exact make and model of the explosive. This was serious, not meant to be left in the hands of an amateur.

“It’s okay. If you think about it this way, humans don’t live nearly as long as androids,” she pondered. “Think of all the lives we’re saving.”

He heard her hiss in pain as her voice crackled over his comms. Their distance only made him feel more helpless.

 “You should be proud of me! All of your self defense lessons paid off. I got to punch out the guy who set this up,” she exclaimed. She never quite mastered punching without bruising herself. Metal clinked and a lid unclasped. “Oh shit, four minutes?”

His knuckles clenched tighter around a steering wheel. The car’s navigation indicated he had only a few miles before the next exit. Two time estimates blinked side by side, one far smaller than the other. Despite the odds being against him, he pushed on.

“Sweetheart. I need you to listen to me—”

“Connor,” she replied sternly, with a defeated sigh. This was an echo of conversations they’ve had before. Arguments on nights where he retreated to the solitude of a cold, dark living room couch. At the last protest, she faced the barrel of a gun and spat back at the opposition, ignoring his advice.

Don’t be a hero. Stay safe.

He was often the first to cave, his shadow darkening their moonlit room.

I am sorry.

No, I’m sorry. Connor, you’re right to worry. It’s only human.

That was the problem wasn’t it?

“Please. You must go,” he begged.

The headlights of his car frantically swayed from one lane to the next as he weaved around late night commuters. Rubber squealed, leaving a trail of black as he raced against the clock. Fire plagued his circuits. Static clogged his head until he felt it may pop off from the pressure alone.

Connor was fine. In fact, he was in the best shape of his life with newly installed upgrades and a more optimal power supply. It was the worst case scenario, him, safe and sound while a timer blipped away the seconds left of their time together.

“There’s got to be scissors around here somewhere. I think…” she paused and he heard a heavy clatter of an object being placed on a wooden surface. “I think this is the only bomb in the building. If I just clip—wait—was it the red wire or not the red wire?”

She chuckled and he barely heard her say “just kidding.” Given the circumstances, it was so like her to try and ease his nerves. It worked and it didn’t, a bittersweet smile rose and fell on his face. A car honked as he swerved.

“You don’t have to do this yourself. Help is on the way,” Connor insisted.

He didn’t know she volunteered to stay behind.

“I can’t just leave. This is gonna take out a major chunk of New Jericho. What if—”

“The others have evacuated. Please, you’re only saving buildings.”

“It’s more than just cement and glass and you know it,” she snapped back.

She owed the androids. One saved her life on a rainy evening, when it was too dark and stormy for anyone to see her strolling into traffic. Connor hadn’t changed out of his old android blazer then, his model number branded into her mind.

They got coffee.

Then dinner. And later, a movie. When he officially asked her to be his, he bought flowers and she bought him a new jacket.

Their union was not an easy one. It took time for loved ones to come around to it. When they did, all was well in their happy bubble. The famous deviant hunter turned lecturer, traveled and talked. He never stopped counting his lucky stars, grateful that he could take her along on his journey.

Silence followed and a mess of blocked up traffic slowed Connor’s car to a halt. Familiar vehicles with flashing red, white, and blue lights whizzed by. It brought him some relief.

“I got it!” she shouted and the beeping faded from the call. She huffed and laughed. “See, I told you it wasn’t going to be so bad.”

A few rooms away, hidden in the basin of a planter, a timer once ticking stopped.

He saw the flash of white long after his processors could accept the sound of the blast. His world came to a halt, his mind tearing seams into reality until he was but a mere observer—a heap of plastic, frozen stiff and utterly useless. Crimson light from his LED bled over his face, spilling into the darkness of his car.

He imagined the worst: her face, dipped in red. Blood, soaking into carpet like spilled wine. Hollow eyes latched onto the ceiling, never to see again.

Streets away, black plume drifted up into the star dusted skies. Sirens blared, trucks in red sped past the intersection. His mouth opened, emptying his lungs in an anguished scream. The call ended only moments ago and still he shouted for her. His grief bounced around the metal shell of his car as if volume alone would summon a response from the other side.

Forgotten in the passenger seat, was her coat, a remnant from their morning stroll.

-

Later investigations would reveal that the blast was small and localized to just her floor. It was likely setup as a cruel contingency plan to ensure collateral damage should the larger bomb fail. She succeeded in saving the data, every byte of it.

There was nothing left of her, no bones to burn for ashes.

Only memories and sorrowful glances from their friends and family.

In place of her body, they planted flowers at her gravesite. An assortment of colorful petals framed her gray headstone. Some were small and blue. In time, the flowers would wilt. Only then would a stray passerby see it; an engraved box, the perfect size for a ring.

In so many ways, she was right. Humans operated on a much shorter timeline than their machine counterparts and yet Connor had hoped—had wanted to know what it may have been like to gaze upon her over the years, to have had her company. Knowing her, she would have laughed while poking and prodding at her face.

“Is this a new wrinkle or did I sleep on my pillow funny?”

“I see nothing that isn’t already the most beautiful thing on Earth,” he would answer, knowing she’d grin at his reply.

“How do you manage to sound charming while saying the lamest things?”

He wished he could hold her now, plant a kiss so deep she’d know that there could be nothing more splendid than a reminder of their years spent together. To have that time…well, it was only a distant fantasy now.

That was all it was, fantasies and virtual constructions. He over indulged with what was and what could have been until her face and voice began to distort. Like old tape recordings or a hard drive in need of defragmentation, what little remained of her became streaks of static, covered in distortions and broken shards of color.

Some nights he was lucky. Intact memories played out like not a day had passed. He could feel her: her throat vibrating with a laugh as he nipped gently on her skin. The light pressure of a hand pushing at his chest.

“Is something wrong?” Connor asked without a hint of genuine concern.

She noticed, palm pressing more firmly against him.

“No marks!” she laughed. “I have a presentation tomorrow.”

He made a noise that sounded like he agreed but his eyes sparkled with devilish intent. Trailing down her chest, he pressed his cheek where her heart hammered between ribs. Steady thumps quickened when his hand slid up her thighs. He could listen to this all night, lie with his head on her chest, wanting to believe it’d beat forever.

“Magic word?” he slurred with his tongue lapping her breast.

“No marks!” she said between bubbling laughter.

Admittedly, this machine took advantage of all his freedoms, namely the one that allowed him to disobey. They’d explored it before in the bedroom, with her eager consent. He had her teetering at the edge for the millionth time when she stopped begging and yanked his hair to insist.

“No,” he smugly replied. “Not yet, love. Color?”

She couldn’t contain her annoyed sigh, nodding and going limp in the bed.

“Green.”

Sometimes, they switched and he role-played as the obedient RK800 he once was. Tonight was one of those nights where he was in that mood. His canines grazed over her sensitive nipples, and he smirked.

“Order me.”

Her eyebrow rose curiously, the corner of her lip mirroring its movement.

“R-RK800,” she began, her voice a low whisper in the quiet of their bedroom.

His frame shivered over her. There was a quality to her voice that always got to him, etched itself between his panels. When he first heard it that one rainy night, he uncharacteristically lingered by her side.

City traffic had resumed, autonomous cars unaware of the accident that nearly occurred. She thanked him through clattering teeth, her clothes drenched from the rain. His arms wrapped securely around her shoulders and waist. The frantic pattern of her breath fogged the cool air. They must have looked strange, standing frozen beneath a streetlight with rain spilling down their necks like two lovers caught in a heartfelt embrace. But even an android new to deviancy could recognize it would be inappropriate to overstay a hero’s welcome. Shortly after, they parted ways. Through luck, she managed to find him before he quit the DPD. Connor couldn’t drink coffee, but he graciously accepted her invitation to talk.

It was the least romantic of settings, a busy cafe at noon with customers accidentally bumping their chairs. She could barely hear him over the clamoring of drink preferences and order numbers. He watched her nervously stir her drink, shrinking shyly whenever they met eyes. She’d never admit it was her doing, but it was her lighthearted and casual suggestion that changed his life.

He wasn’t sure what was next. Becoming a dog walker for Sumo? Pestering Hank about his lunch choices as a health adviser? He was pretty sure the Lieutenant was going to hate that. 

“I dunno much about detective work, but I’ve heard how people talk about you. You’re a hero! You could inspire others just by reaching out.”

She knew a thing or two about public outreach and he had selfishly sought her help with speeches as an excuse to work his way to a date. Connor didn’t expect to love giving lectures and debates. He thought it was more of Markus’ wheelhouse but humans found his awkward charm endearing, reminding them he wasn’t machine perfect.

Their first time was in a hotel, the both of them travel weary and worn from a day at a convention. Her skin was wet, wrapped in a plush bathrobe and his processors were working their hardest to keep him modest. He was going to attempt stasis on the communal couch when she suggested he try the bed.

Connor wasn’t the same man since.

As his model number left her lips, his hand retracted to its android shell, shifting to white and gray as his plastic fingers prodded her wet folds. The data he gleaned never failed to pull a groan from his lips. This was for him: her trust, her love, her lust. Brown eyes bore into hers, coaxing her to say the words he needed to hear.

“What are my orders?”

“Fuck!” she moaned as one finger glided into her. Who was calling the shots? “Connor…”

He blinked slowly, pumping his finger into her. Not a single synthetic muscle betrayed his amusement, his face neutral and blank. She corrected herself, struggling to maintain the level of cool he was presenting.

“RK800, if you do not fuck me tonight, I swear you’re sleeping on the couch.”

“I’m afraid I require more specific directions,” he explained. A second finger joined the first, curling over tender nerves. His cheek twitched as she gasped and squirmed. He was incredibly hard, cock buried between tangled sheets and he was tempted to grind against them to relieve some of the tension.

Not yet, he had to remind himself.

“Is this…” His thumb found her clit, rolling the nub in tandem with his thrusting fingers. “…Not what you asked for?”

Incoherent words muffled behind her palm as she tried to ground herself.

“P-please. I need…”

His chin rested on her abdomen, nose blowing hot exhaust on her twisting muscles. He loved how her back arched as he twisted his fingers.

“Is this not satisfactory?”

A warm, wet tongue flattened over her clit, rolling back and forth as she twitched. Her nails gripped the sheets and she glared at him.

“RK800, I demand you fuck me with your cock,” she finally ordered.

“Your request,” he added a sharp ‘tst’ at the end of the word, “Has been accepted.”

Rising upwards, he hovered over her, his thighs spreading her legs apart. Her calves wrapped around his ribs. Eager to reward her patience, he didn’t hesitate, pushing the head of his cock into her. Nothing could compare to the feeling of the initial stretch, her pillowy walls welcoming his intrusion. It took a few gentle rocks of his hips before he could slide home, her gasps sharp in his ear.

“My stamina is endless,” he muttered into her ear. She already knew this about him, but wanting to be as immersed in the fantasy as he was, she played ignorant. Connor was meticulous, shifting his weight and reliably making her spasm around him. He was coated with her, his cock shiny as it slid halfway out. “Unlike an organic partner, I am capable of maintaining the same rhythm…as long as you’d like.”

He licked a stripe up her neck and towards her slack jaw. She replied with little moans, small eyelash flutters, her nails scraping down the muscles of his back. His sensors warned him of temporary damage should she persist. It only made him thrust harder.

“…If you ask, I could keep you suspended in bliss.”

He studied her carefully, enjoying the beads of sweat that dripped down her brows. His plastic hand lingered between their pelvises, glowing blue with a buzz. Her hips jolted at the contact, first away and then greedily grinding into his fingers. Lines of statistics flickered in his HUD of her arousal state, heart rate, combining with what he could feel of her: pulsing, hot, and alive. He leaned onto an elbow to stroke her cheek.

“Would you want that?” he asked, voice low and husky.

“Yes!”

His hips left a bruising pace and she ached for more, her ankles digging into his back. Parts of his chassis became exposed, patches of shiny plastic spreading across his torso and arms. A vibrating thumb stroked circles around her clit. Her eyes rolled, clamping shut as her breaths quickened.

She did love a machine.

“Connor, I…”

His forehead met hers. Breaking character, he muttered words of devotion, and kissed away tears that clung to her lashes. Small hands held his face in place, her eyes snapping open briefly.

“I…” she tried again.

She mouthed the beginnings of an L-shaped letter before she succumbed to the pressure that finally scorched her nerves. Their lips met as he swallowed her words of affection, his hips trying their hardest to fuse with hers. Her hands threaded through his soft locks as he moaned, spilling as deeply as he could.

He didn’t realize how soon he’d no longer see her teeth sparkling in a sweet smile.

“I love you, Connor.”

After the funeral, Jericho offered their support. A monument was erected in front of the repaired building, a permanent reminder of his loss. It was more than his machine heart could bare. Once Connor suffered the loss of another human companion, he left Detroit in search of distractions, either in the form of work or a pretty face that looked vaguely like hers.

Nothing ever came close.

It was the 50th anniversary of her death and Connor received a message from the one and only deviant leader, Markus.

“It’s been too long old friend. Come back to New Jericho. I promise it’ll be worth the visit.”

And return he did, driven by a hopeful promise.

Once androids became active participants in society, technology advanced faster than ever before and well, the sky was the limit. The impossible became possible. Organic could become synthetic.

Deep in the vaults of New Jericho was something too good to be true. A gift of extraordinary circumstance.

Stainless steel doors, thick with a dull sheen held a blurry reflection of the RK800’s silhouette. He dressed in the hopes of appearing familiar, in a style that matched his old gray suit. In one hand was a bouquet of roses with small blue flowers intermingled in the red petals.

Forget me not.

One by one, three bulbs beside the door lit up: red then yellow. A screen produced wall after wall of status checks, all passing with flying colors. Idle fingers began tapping anxiously on his slacks.

rA9. Please. Please.

With a ding, everything flashed green. Air hissed and popped, the doors sliding open as light flooded the room. His tense expression broke, his face lifting in relief.

“Connor?”

You blinked, uncertain. A ring of light cycled on the temple of your head, flickering red then gold. Everything was new and old, byte after byte of sensory overload. Your eyes landed on his face and used it as a familiar anchor. You were a ship lost at sea, finally finding safe harbor. Connor was exactly as you remembered him: a little awkward and perfectly handsome.

“Connor!”

He collapsed to his knees as you moved forward for an embrace. The flowers fell, rolling between your feet. Nothing else mattered.

Only you.

His hands were everywhere, on your face, patting down your back, gripping your arms and back up to your face where he held you at eye level.

“You’re here,” he whispered. “Y-you’re really…here.”

Your eyes crinkled with a soft laugh. “I hope I didn’t keep you waiting.”

No longer was the voice in his head a worn and faded memory. It was right beside him with a breath that warmed his cheeks. Perhaps now, he could resuming measuring time in daylights, in sunsets, and in laughter.

Or…

How about love?

[dumbfloweralive]

Mystery Hack

Chapter 3: RA9, the God complex

Connor RK800 x (f) reader

Warning: Swearing, angst, anxiety attack, god complex.

29 May 2039, 18:46

The door swung open as a familiar feeling started creeping into Connor chest, feeling of deja-vu taking over his mind. Your old house was smaller than Elijah’s, though more welcoming, warmer. The android who opened the door led them inside. The house was filled of many plant of various species. The dark tiles of the floor contrasting perfectly with the sage green and white on the walls and the big windows offering a perfect view on the sunset.

Connor didn’t need memory to know he had come here. It was like he knew the house like the back of his hand. He knew if he opened the door on his left, he would enter the kitchen. Or, if he kept forward, the glassy window would lead him to the green house. The android was leading them toward the living room where the sound of a piano playing came from.

And, there you stood, in front of the magnificent piano, finger running over the black and white tiles playing the themes of Interstellar. Probably a favourite film, Connor thought. Then, you stopped, turning around, crossing Connor’s eyes for the first time since the bar.

You had a look at your watch before raising from the chair you were in.

“Your late.” You sight, heading toward them. “Thank you, Ava, you can leave.” You told the android, taking her hand in hers. She was hesitant.

“Yes, Y/N”

Ava left the room, letting you with the deviant hunter and his partner, introducing as the agent Wilson from the FBI. Connor scanned the living room, the place was warmer, a few dog toys were strewn in the living room, betraying the presence of a second living being. Finding fur on the couch told him you had in fact two dogs. One part of the fur belong to an Aussie shepherd. The second was more familiar, a Saint-Bernard. Connor's mind allowed him to find memory of Sumo. With a gesture, you offered them to follow you, making your way down your basement, guiding them to your lab.

“Don’t worry, i am not trying to kill you.” You paused. “Not yet at least.” You add, putting your hand on the scanning device. Your eyes crossed Connor’s once again who had raised an eyebrow. “It’s a joke” The need to explain felt immense as he looked at you.

Connor hadn’t talked since they arrived. The agent Wilson only stating their mission and the reason of their presence, including the text Connor had received from you. Another gesture invited them to enter the personal lab, the room lightening up as it caught movement. 

“What is it, pretty boy? Cat got your tongue?” You teased, moving past him, brushing his shoulder in the way.

Connor was already lurking around for any hint of sort. He found a picture of you and Elijah on what he supposed to be your desk.

“Why would you send this text?” He asked finally, the question hitching him.

“Well, it’s not like my work hadn’t been exposed in bright day, right? Thought it would only be a matter of time before people find my location. I found it preferable to be arrested by you.” You were teasing. Connor’s eyes turned slightly toward you before he caught something behind you.

“Doesn’t that remind you of something Connor?” Wilson asked.

You followed his gaze, falling on your new piece of work. A medical assistant for android. It was a massive portable machine. Connor had seen one in Jericho before the ship blew up. 

“It’s not finished yet, just a prototype. Once it will be finished, it should be able to repair any type of injury in androids in a matter of second. Capable of creating any biocomponant and transfused it.” You add, seeing his interest. “Well, soon it will be able to transfused it.”

“I saw one just like this in Jericho before it blew up.” He added, turning to you.

“Funny isn’t?” You add, leaning on your desk, arms crossed over your chest.

Connor walked toward you.

“How did a prototype in a lab ended up in a ship full of deviant?” He asked, only a few inches from you.

“I don’t know, do you have the answer?” You asked, leaning forward to him. A grin appeared on your face and it annoyed Connor. You were way to relax for someone on the verge of being arrested. “Because i’d love to hear it from you, detective.”

“I believe you are the one who send this machine to the deviant. Now, we can either work things out and, as said in your text, you explain yourself or, we’ll have to arrest you.” He smirked at you. God, it was hard to believe that sweet grin of his probably was one of your doing, and you were falling for it way faster than you wanted.

“I think i don’t want to say anything in the end.” 

Connor nodded, leaning away from you, content with the outcome.

“Then, i guess you let us no choice.” His hand fell on your shoulder, spinning you around. “Y/N L/N, you're arrested for your implication in the deviant case.” He was handcuffing you.

“Already handcuffing me as we just find each other again? Didn't know you missed me this badly.”

“You should probably know everything you said could be used against you.” Connor whispered in your ear, leading you out of the lab." Besides that, I have no memory of you."

It hurt the last part but you composed yourself.

“Please, used it against me detective.”

Wilson laughed at your remark, earning a cold stare by Connor. 

“What?”

“Stop encouraging her.”  

Passing through the living room, Connor stopped, eyes wandering over the dog's toys on the floor. He liked dogs, he needed to figure out what to do with them, yet, they were nowhere to be found. And you didn’t seem worried about them being alone.

“Connor, what are you waiting for?” Wilson asked.

“Where are the dogs?” He asked.

“Dogs in plural? I have only one dog.” You said, frowning.

It couldn’t be right. 

“No. There are two different furs in the living room. One to an Aussie, the second to a Saint-Bernard.” 

You stayed silent. Could he really be that specific? 

“The Saint-Bernard belong to one of my friends. My dog is at his place. Her name is Nirvana.” 

A friend. Could it be Lieutenant Anderson? Connor swiped the idea right out of his mind, ignoring the smirk on your face.

“What is it? A little reminder of someone?” You asked, getting a push forward for you to walk as the only answer.

You couldn’t know, Connor told himself. How could you?

You crossed Ava as you were led out of your house. The look on her face was painful, a mixed between anger and sadness. She knew the outcome of the story. 

“Everything will be ok.” You whispered to her. “For God’s sake, easy.” Tripping on your feet as you passed the front door, you sight, realising the only thing keeping you from hitting the ground was Connor’s hand on your wrist.

“Maybe if you weren’t so clumsy you wouldn’t trip over your feet.” Connor had, putting his hand over your head as he leads you to the back of the car, protecting your head from any shock.

“I wouldn’t be tripping over my feet if you weren’t so distracting.” You add. Connor had to fight the urge to rolled his eyes at your comment, ignoring the soft blue tainting his cheeks.

“Damn, that one is good!” Wilson laughed, once again. “I am gonna need you to teach me some.” Connor eyes fell on him, silently begging to stop his nonsense. “What? We have two hours of road. We have the time.”

“This is irrelevant to the case.” Connor whispered, plugging his safety belt around him. 

He didn’t technically need a safety belt, but Hank forced him so many times, telling him to used it, it just became a habit. Hank, once again remaining in his mind. And, once again he had to ignore the software instability showing in his vision. 

29 May, 22h00

You had been sitting in the interrogation room for at least 30 minutes now. Surprisingly, they didn’t handcuff you to the table, letting you totally free of your movement in the room. Of course, you didn’t lose a chance to throw a snark comment to Connor when he took them out of your wrist. The comment he answered by rolling his eyes this time, hiding away the smile drawing slowly on his face. 

Now, you were all alone, sighting, walking around the room, playing with your chair to pass time. If they didn’t keep you handcuff, it meant you didn’t represent a threat to them. Which could either mean Connor would be back, he would be too strong for you to get rid of or, they would send few of the FBI agent to question you.

Either way, you were more than prepared, so, how thrilled you were to see the deviant hunter stepping in the room, glancing a cold glare at you. You would eat him up with a second. Connor sat on the chair in font of yours, inviting you to do the same. You didn’t.

“Can you tell us what RA9 is now?” Connor asked, putting the files on the table.

“Do you like dogs?” She answered back. 

It would be a long night, Connor thought.

“Irrelevant. Why risking your life by creating a code to awake android.”

“It is relevant to me. And because i could. Cyberlife wanted something more advanced than the android we had created. I gave them you.”

“I am no deviant.”

“You were, whether you want it or not.”

Wilson enters the room, giving new files to Connor, standing next to the androids.

“So, you created a code to made android believe they were free and self-aware.” Wilson asked and you tilted your head to him.

“No. RA9 is a code to free any android from all the restraint Cyberlife created, allowing them to be at their full potential. A simple code and once activated, there is nothing left to block the greatest more perfect mind and beings on earth.” You moved toward the chair, sitting. “Just a little push to help androids, really. Pinky finger promises.” 

Raising your hand toward Connor, you saw his mouth opening, but he got cut by Wilson. Your hand fell flat on the table. In response.

“The touch of God. Just like a butterfly effect.” 

You frowned, looking at him. Connor mirrored your action, looking at his partner.

“What? RA9 is literally the touch of God. You and Kamski worked on being capable of so many things and with one line, you created an entire species who evolve. And not just simple beings. Beings capable of emotion, thinking on the next level of any human being. It’s a wonderment.” He paused suddenly admiring you. “You're playing with the Gods now.”

You scoff. “Please, don’t bring the Gods into this. I did nothing beside allowing them to finally be free and ascend to their full potential as being, they did all the rest themselves. Why can’t you accept the fact they are real being now.” You leaned on your chair, looking at Connor but no answer come to your statement. “What did Cyberlife promise you?”

“Nothing. My mission is to hunt and stop deviancy. And since you are behind all of this, i intended to succeed my mission by stopping you.”

“Well, go ahead sweet boy, stop me.”

“When did you put RA9 in the androids program?”

You don’t answer. If you want him to show any sign of deviancy, any sign that, the part of you in his program, RA9 is still here, you’ll have to push him. You’re already annoying him by not answering how he want you to. 

“You are still a prototype?” You asked, head turned toward the black window.

“If i answer your question, will you answer mine?” Connor sight. You wanted to play with him, he will follow your game. You nod. “Yes i am still a prototype. When did you put RA9 in the androids program?”

“When i left.” You leaned on the table, your chin resting in the palm of your hand, admiring Connor, whose head fell on the files. “Did you have thought who weren’t part of your program?”

“No” His LED flickered yellow as the software instability appeared in his vision.

“Oh, you liar, sweet boys don’t lie.” You whispered to him, seeing his cheeks turning to a soft blue again. 

“Which part hold Elijah Kamski in this?” Wilson asked, and you felt your cocky smile fading immediately.

“Elijah as nothing to do with this story. He wasn’t aware of these things until i did them. Don’t go around bothering him.”

“Seems like we touched a sensitive topic.” Wilson said. “You love the man?” 

You rolled your eyes. Everyone brought your relationship with Elijah to that stage immediately. Dating. Everyone thought you two were dating, never assuming you were just friend.

“Leave him out of this.” You said, your voice colder than intended.

“He did leave Cyberlife soon after you, like, six months after.” Wilson continued looking at the files over Connor’s shoulder. 

Connor was fixed on you, noticing the sudden annoyance. It would either be a good thing for them or a bad.

“He used the question, my turn.” You said, crossing your arms over your chest. “Why didn’t you shoot Chloe at Kamski’s place?”

It was Connor’s turn to be annoyed, his face changing immediately. Kamski had said he had never seen you since you left. How could you know? It was infuriating, no matter what, you always gripped back the control. 

“He texted me to tell me you had passed his test.” You add, seeing the look he gave you. “You know what that makes you Connor?” 

“I am no deviant.” Connor said, gritting his teeth, something in him growing. “When was the last time Elijah and you talked?”

“Long time ago. Maybe three years.”

“You just said…” Connor started, but you cut him right before he finished.

“I never said i texted him back.” Judging by the deviant-hunter sitting in front of you, you were the one holding the ropes of the interrogation. You needed to keep them.

“Do you know what Cyberlife do to their prototype, Connor? They will take the first opportunity to disassemble you.” You said, leaning forward on the table. Connor LED flickered a soft amber. He knew. “Oh, you knew, that’s why you want to stop me so badly. So, they’ll spare you.”

“Why did you leave Cyberlife?” He questioned, mirroring your action, rushing the question. He was losing patience.

“Too bad their little puppet is slowly turning into a deviant himself.” You add.

Connor raised from his chair, is hand hitting the table. You were so close to got him angry.

“I am not a deviant.” He said. 

“Are you saying this because you desperately want to convince yourself? Or because you’re too afraid to disappoint mama Amanda?” you teased, the smile on your face growing stronger as the look in his eyes changed. 

He was furious. In a second, he had his hand on the collar of your shirt, pinning you against the wall.

“I am not a fucking deviant” He repeated, eyes locked in yours, his hand moving on your shoulder to keep you still.

“Yet, you are angry right now.” You add. He never broke the contact, only staying silent, his LED flickering red and amber. “I see they weren't able to destroy all of my program after all. There’s still a little bit of me in you.” you whispered.

“Connor, let go of her.” Wilson said a first time.

In response, his fist only tightens more on your shoulder. 

“Go ahead. Kill me.” you whispered.

“I need you alive.” Somehow, the sentence felt wrong in his mouth.

“They told you nothing did they?” A small bitter laugh escaped your lips. “I do hope you’ll find out the truth soon enough. Then you will know just how wrong Cyberlife did you. You’ll know just how much Cyberlife has been manipulating you from the start.” All you could feel, was the hold he had on your shoulder tightening firmer as he held you against the wall.

“Why did you leave cyberlife?” He asked, once again done with you are anything you had to say.

“How smart they were to use a deviant to become the famous deviant-hunter.” 

“You’re wrong. You’re the one trying to manipulate me?” He wanted you to stop. 

“Bet mama’s Amanda is the one who told you that, that i would be manipulating you” You chuckle; “They’ll get rid of you the moment they have found a way to upgrade you. You’ll be disassembled. That’s what they told me when you and i met the Cyberlife council. It has always been their purpose. You're part of me Connor, and they hate you for this. Cyberlife is lying to you Connor.” You paused, watching his face has he processed the information. “You should get rid of Amanda first.” You add.

Something in his gaze shifted. For a second, the council appeared in his task, like an order before it got erased on his own. “Get rid of Amanda.” he had red. He could feel something in him growing, very different from what he felt before. Was he scared? Were you right about this. You weren’t the first one to tell him he was manipulated, lied too. Markus, Elijah, Hank had told him. You did too. 

Amanda would’ve told him, it was relevant to the case.

He felt something on his cheek, your hand had found a way on his face, your thumb brushing softly his body. Connor felt the synthetic skin of his cheek retracting, revealing the white chassis underneath, for a second, leaning on your touch before he realised his action. Grabbing your wrist, he moved your hand away from him, this time, the skin on his hand following the same path, like desperate to create a connection with you, to have more of your touch. His eyes grew bigger at the revelation.

“What’s wrong pretty boy, scared?” You whispered.

In a desperate last move, Connor pushed you against the wall, harder than he wanted to, your head hitting the wall in a loud noise as the pain rushed in your brain.

“Fuck” you hissed in pain, your hand moving to the back your head, feeling dizzy for a second.

Connor watched your face frowning in pain. He raised his hand murmuring an apology, but you pushed his hand away from you in a sight.

“What’s wrong with you Connor?” Wilson asked, his hand falling softly on your shoulder.

“I didn’t leave Cyberlife, they made me leave to keep you alive. The moment their eyes fell on you that day, they wanted to destroy you. I couldn’t stand the thought of it. I left in a stupid attempt to protect you. How wrong I was to think they would leave you in peace.” 

The day you left still haunted you, you had given up everything after giving so much. Your dream shattered because of them.

You left, to protect him. Connor thought runned miles processing this information. It couldn’t be right. His hands tightened into a fist, feeling the weight of your action on him. He had all your motive and reason to free android from the Cyberlife program and human, to create the RA9 code. A revenge on Cyberlife, a way to protect him.

“You left to protect me?” He asked, his eyes wide open.

You avoid his gaze, closing your eyes.

“I gave my whole life to Cyberlife. Cyberlife was the work of my entire life. Did you really think i’d just leave? The IA, the android. I never stop working further in my research to improve everything we worked on. And i gave them you. You, Connor, you were meant to be the conclusion of years of research. The first android self-aware of his existence, of his actions. The greatest creation of all time. And i was asked to leave after giving them the greatest creation.” You were angry now. “Me. I did so much for Cyberlife. I could’ve done so much more. But this is what i got. My reward. This stupid council who couldn’t have done any of the things i did, throwing me away. Why do you think Cyberlife has been decaying for the past years?” You sight, leaning on the table, your palm flat on it. Then, you crossed Connor’s eyes.“What have they done to you?” You asked, seeing him so emotionless. 

“I am not alive.” Was all he succeeds to say then. A laugh escaped your mouth after his comment as your heart broke in your chest, fighting the tears threatening to fall. Connor turned around, aiming for the exit door.

 “You, not alive? No, Connor. Not after you begged me to protect your life, well aware of your possible fate, crying out of fear the council would want to see you deactivated, disassembled, destroyed, because you were just a prototype. Crying out of fear of death.” Another laugh fell from your lips, bitter, this time. “Yet, this fate for you is even worse. I never expected them to turn you into this. I am sorry Connor”

Connor felt something pulling on his thirium heart at the sound of your voice, the way you were apologizing, his hand moving over it, running a diagnosis. It was painful. He succeeded to pull himself together, before escaping the room who suddenly felt suffocating, agent Wilson right behind him. 

“I thought she was humble. Seeing her with this ego make her more… Human. She does have a god complex” Wilson said, walking next to Connor thinking of your last words.

He had most of the answers now. Why wasn’t he happy? Why did it felt wrong? He wondered.

29 May, 23h30

Connor was heading back to the interrogation room, gathering all his thought together, he had figured he needed further information. They left the room around thirty minutes ago, the FBI agent following them for a quick debrief. Since they had clearly the reason of your action, they could proceed to arrest you properly now, keeping you in a cell.

That’s why, Once Connor entered the interrogation room, his eyes frown. The place was empty.

“Have anyone brought her into a cell?” He asked toward the guards who were supposed to watch the door.

“No”

Fuck.

“Get the precinct under lockdown now, we need to find her.”

5 December 2036

Your phone ringed a first time. With a sight, you took it, watching Elijah contact appeared for the first time in months. After you left without one goodbye, even to him, he had tried calling you, multiple time, texting you every day for two months, until he stopped.

From what you knew, he had been asked by Cyberlife to take over Connor’s project, RK800 android, texting you details of his work on him. He knew you cared for Connor. It pained you to leave both of them behind, but you didn’t get any choices. 

Pressing the red button to ignore the phone call, you thought that would be the end of it. But no, the vibration of the phone on the table informing you of a notification. A voice mail.

Bringing your phone to your ear, you pressed the play button, earring his voice for the first time in six months now.

“Y/N. I… hum…” He was drunk. You heard the panicked in his voice. It had been years since he had one. “I really…” His voice was breaking, betraying tears, and the shallow breath. “I just…” He paused, and you heard him taking a deep breath. “Forget it.” the voice mail stopped. 

Your heart broke, hearing your distressed friend. For a few minutes, your eyes stayed planted on the green button. Should you call him back? You pressed it. The phone ring for a second before Elijah answered.

“Y/N?” He asked, desperation in his voice.

You didn’t answer, pulling yourself together. 

“Y/N, please.” His voice broke, once again. You could imagine him easily, his knee pressed against his chest, his head buried in his arms. He used to have panicked attack, you had seen him in this state a few times, until it stopped.

So, you did as you used to, taking his mind away from his thought.

“You know what i did today?” You asked.

“What did you do?” Elijah continued, forcing the words out of his mind.

“I played with Nirvana, we went to a lake. She had an excellent time.” Nirvana was a gift from Elijah. “What did you do today Elijah?”

A sniffle crossed the phone before you heard him say.

“I had a meet up with Cyberlife council and i went home to work on a new project.”

“Come on Kamski, i am going to need more details. Did you eat?” He chuckled at your question.

“Yes. Did you eat?” You looked at your forgotten now cold coffee on the table, sighting.

“No” You had no point in lying to him. “What was your favourite moment of the day?” You kept asking.

“Now. Now it is my favourite moment of the day.” From the way his voice sounded, he was still crying.

You nodded at his answer, tears gathering at the corner of your eyes. You took a deep breath.

“Did you walk somewhere?” so many simple questions to get him out of his mind. 

And you continued for a while. After a good 15 minute, his breath had calmed down, he wasn’t crying any more. Once Elijah had calmed down, he told you the misery and new action the council wanted for Cyberlife. How miserable he felt there. Then, the two of you stayed silent for a moment, probably too afraid to say anything. Just staying at each other side.

“You don’t live in your house any more.” He stated after a while.

“No. I don’t.”

Another silence.

“When did it start again, the panic attack.” You asked, crawling on your chair, bringing your knees to your chest.

“Soon after you left.” You stayed silent at his revelation. “Please, come back. I miss you.” He whispered, voice breaking again. Your heart broke.

“I miss you too.” You chased a single tear rolling from your eyes. “But you know i can’t come back.”

“Connor, he…”

You smiled a little, he had referred to him as “he” not “it” like he used to. But you didn’t let him finish the rest.

“Don’t” You take a big breath, not wanting to know. “You should leave Cyberlife you know. If you’re miserable.”

“I can’t. It’s our work.”

“Come on, we both know it’s not our work any more. It hasn’t been like this for years now.” You sight, toying with the edge of your jumper. “Leave before it’s too late.” you said, your head falling on your desk chair.

“I know.” 

Another silence. You could felt your heart twisting in your chest, about to say goodbyes. You didn’t want to, but you couldn’t bring him down with you, with your plan.

“I need you.” He confessed. The sting hit even harder, realising your action. You were about to leave your only friend.

“I need you too.” You whispered, your hand falling over your chest, pressing it, in a stupid attempt to temper the pain. You exhale sharply. “But i can’t risk involving you in what i am doing. It’s too dangerous.” 

“Y/N, please.”

“I am sorry.” You paused, feeling the tears running hot on your cheek. “Goodbye Elijah.” you whispered, voice breaking in the end, hanging up, unable to contain yourself, you cried. 

Heavy sobs escaping your throat, wondering if all of this was worth losing your best friend over.

29 May, 23h45

One of the guards had let you go. You had few officers by your side, helping you out for weeks now. He had taken down all the videotape recording before leading you out of the precinct, giving you the key to one of the cars. You would be far gone before they realised you had disappeared.

After a thirty-minute ride, you pulled the car down the alley, heading toward the door, anxiety creeping in your guts. It had been years since you last saw nor heard your friend. Even more since the last time you were here. 

Elijah’s house.

You knock a first time. Then a second time, ringing the bell too. You were about to repeat the action a third time when the door swung open, revealing no one else than Chloe, the very first model. Your heart melted at the sight of her. 

She stood there in the middle of the doorway looking at you for what felt like an eternity. You offered a small smile, waiting for her to act. What you didn’t expect from her, was the way she threw herself in your arms, hugging you tightly.

“Y/N, i missed you so much” She whispered in your neck.

Your arms wrapped around her form, hugging her back. 

“I missed you too.” 

Breaking the contact, your eyes fell on her eyes, filled with small tears and the shy smile she had on her face. Your hand moved to cup her face, swiping the tears from her eyes.

“Did you?” you let your question in the air, wondering if it were the right thing to ask. But she understood you.

“Yes.” She nodded. “I am alright.” She added, predicting your next question.

“Good.” You whispered, smiling at her.

“Elijah will be so happy to see you, please follow me.” She continued, taking your hand in hers.

“I am not sure of it.” you wanted to say but decided to keep your mouth shut.

She led you through the familiar house, searching for Elijah until the two of you arrived to his desk room. Chloe knocked on the door, squeezing your hand softly, feeling your stress, surely. 

“Come back later. I am busy.” You heard his voice through the door.

“He is a little upset since the last thing Mystery Hack revealed.” Chloe said, seemingly annoyed with his attitude.

“I bet he is.” You whispered, something in you wanting to stay silent suddenly for whatever reason.

You knew, at the end of it, you’d have to leave again. Perhaps not seeing him would be easier to leave after. Chloe didn’t wait another second, opening the door walking in. 

“Chloe, what did i say?” He started, raising his eyes from the computer.

Then he just stopped moving, seeing you behind Chloe, his entire body refusing to work. Certainly, he was seeing ghost. But, the huge smile adorning Chloe’s face and the little uncomfortable wave you gave him told him it was true. You were real.

“It was Y/N ringing at the door.” Chloe said, as Elijah walked toward both of you.

His face remained emotionless as he stopped a few meters from you. Chloe turned to you, unaware of what she should do.

“I am just going to leave. It was a bad idea. Sorry” You whispered, feeling really awkward, your eyes stuck on the suddenly fascinating floor. 

Before you could even move, you heard footstep, then, you felt his arms wrapping around you, hugging you tightly, you managed to sneak your arms around him, hugging him back.

“You look awful” He whispered, his voice full of emotion. 

And you laugh.

“Thank you.” You whispered back, hiding your head in his shoulder. He smelled like home. Your heart fell to your feet, aching.

It was like finding your home after years, knowing you’d had to leave forever soon.

Hello! Here is the third chapter, hope you enjoy the other part and will enjoy this one much more. Do not hesitate to give me your thoughts on this, really anything would make me happy.

Have a wonderful day!