#when Cooper intervened in this scene in shooting Hank

[doortotomorrow]

cooper and lucy - the beginning

[sethrine-writes]

I Will Fight This War For You (Hold On), Ch. 1

Pairing:  Connor x  Female Reader

Words:  3310

Chapter Warning:  Mild Trauma, Mild angst, Investigative Questioning

Story Summary:  "Our choices define us. Don't let them tear you in two."

Your investigation into the string of deaths of both humans and androids takes a drastic turn when a victim is purposely left alive. The killer's intent is the same, to prove a point you have yet to figure out. The change, however, is the power of choice.

Stress and exhaustion lead you astray as you and Connor are both thrust into a war between the mind and the heart. You can only hope everyone involved makes it out alive.

IMPORTANT A/N:  This is a repost from my previous blog of a DBH fic I started over a year ago in response to a challenge a friend of mine posted up, at the time. Not only am I bringing it over to this blog, but I’ve also gone through and edited/cleaned up each chapter for a better reading experience! I’ll be posting a chapter or two every day until I’ve posted all current chapters, and then I’ll be updating with a brand new chapter for the first time in nearly a year!

I’m super excited to be bringing this back, and I hope those of you who followed me from my DBH days are just as excited, too!

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Chapter 1 - Broken, Crawl Back to Life

WB200 models were initially designed to be used for agricultural purposes, with an extensive knowledge of mass produce production as well as mastery of farm life. They were popular help in the south, but even more vital to maintaining a local agricultural economy within Detroit, which was hard enough within the city. After the peaceful revolution of androids for their rights over a year prior, nearly half the WB200 models retained jobs within the agricultural business while others went off to pursue different careers and opportunities.

The android sitting in the precinct's interrogation room had been part of the former group, his hands and clothes still smeared with dirt and mulch from a hard day's work. Along with that dirt, however, was the staining of both red and residual blue blood. It was startling, horrifying, and it was also one of the biggest breakthroughs in your investigation, thus far.

“He hasn’t said a fucking word,” Hank sighed.

There was aggravation in his voice, and rightfully so. It wasn’t directed at the android sitting stark still on the opposite side of the two-way mirror, however, and you knew that. It had been a long week with, yet again, little headway into your current case, countless hours of searching through evidence only to come up with nothing conclusive. Hank was frustrated and tired, and you understood that all too well.

“I’m guessing Connor hasn't been in yet?” you queried with a sigh, arms folded loosely over your chest.

“Not yet,” Hank answered, his lips quirking as he looked to you. “Figured we could use a woman's touch, first. Don’t want to freak him out any more than necessary."

“Probably for the best,” you concluded, adding, “Reed hasn’t been sniffing around, has he?”

“He damn well better not! This is possibly our first viable lead in weeks, and I'll be damned if he sets foot in that room. I might have to shoot his legs out, myself, if I hear even a peep of him down the hall.”

“Hey, now, no need for all of that. Besides, there are other ways to knock him down a peg, besides shooting off a limb.”

“Don’t I know it,” Hank muttered, glancing your way as you opened the door. He stopped you abruptly with the call of your name, your gaze peering at him over your shoulder, though finding he still had eyes on the victim.

“If you’re not up for it, we can get Connor in there, instead. It's been a rough week, and all; wouldn’t blame you for passing on this.”

You turned a bit more toward him, but his eyes remained on the android behind the observation pane.

“I’m good, Hank. I can handle it.”

“You sure?”

This time, he turned to face you, pale blue eyes soft even as he feigned indifference. You smiled at him gently.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were worried about me,” you teased lightly. Doing so only earned you a muted scoff and a wave of his hand in your direction.

“Yeah, yeah. Just get in there and do what you do best, before you start to piss me off with that smug mug.”

You left the observation room with a short chuckle, taking a brief moment thereafter to ready yourself while mentally going over the case facts in your head.

The WB200 -Anthony was his name- was the first and only victim to be left alive out of a string of kidnappings and murders that had been taking place since the beginning of January.

The latest crime scene was still being processed, but earlier investigation showed that whoever was behind the murders had stepped up their game. It was no mere coincidence that Anthony was left alive.

Something else was going on, something was missing.

God willing, you would find what you needed to within the hour. Even better would be if you could figure it out before the FBI decided to intervene, and with the sharp turn the case had taken, it was only a matter of time.

With a final shake of your head and a quick roll of your shoulders, you took a deep breath and gave an affirming nod to the officer standing guard by the adjoining interrogation room, entering slowly as you opened and closed the door using the handprint keypad.

You scanned over the android sitting across the lone table, assessing the victim while taking a seat across from him. He was looking down at the smooth surface before him, motionless and unresponsive to your entrance. He hadn’t even acknowledged your presence, choosing to be standoffish and quiet. He wasn’t the first one to act in such a way, and he definitely wouldn’t be the last.

Your goal was to hopefully get him to become cooperative enough to help further the investigation. Forcing answers was out of the question, so you would have to try coercing and gentle persuasion.

“Hi, Anthony,” you began gently, a small smile finding its place on your lips. He remained stoic still, said nothing in return, but his silence didn’t hinder you. “My name is Detective (Y/n)(L/n), and I'd-"

You hesitated briefly as Anthony's head shot up, his eyes meeting yours for the barest of moments before he looked away once more. He seemed surprised, panicked, even, and it was so incredibly sudden that it had you momentarily confused.

“-I'd like to ask you some questions about what happened to you. If you’re uncomfortable, or if you would like to stop at any time, just let me know, alright? You’re not in any trouble; we just want to know what happened.”

Anthony glanced at you, his hands fidgeting within his lap. He gave a single, short nod after a lapse of silence, his gaze finally rising once more and focusing on you fully.

You couldn’t help but chance a quick glance at the observation mirror, seeing only your reflection but knowing Hank was watching closely.

Something had changed. Anthony was being the most compliant he had been since being held in the interrogation room.

“Alright, thank you. Can you tell me what you were doing before you were taken?”

He hesitated, lips quivering in such a way that showed the grief he felt, the trauma of his experience. Had he still possessed the circular LED at his temple, you were certain it would be flickering between yellow and red.

“We…we were just finishing up, Lauren and I,” he began slowly. “End of the day tasks, the usual routine. She sets the sprinkler timers for the early morning watering and checks the temperature settings while I put away the tools. I didn’t even hear him…”

“Him?” you pushed carefully, urging Anthony to continue.

“It was a guy,” Anthony claimed, “thought he was human, at first, but he's definitely an android. That son of a bitch snuck up on me and did something – fried my core functions, I don’t know. Whatever he did, I was gone, and then I was suddenly aware again, right in the middle of the greenhouse. He had us all tied up. He…he had Winny, and Lauren…shit, Lauren was strapped down, tortured right in front of us! Her screams…her screams!”

“Anthony, hey, look at me.”

Anthony pulled his gaze back up to you, seemingly unaware that he had been clutching at his head, shaking as if trying to rid his memory of the awful event. You felt your heart lurch almost painfully in your chest at the look of utter fear in his eyes.

“It's okay, you’re safe, now, remember? I know this must be hard, absolutely terrifying, but I want to help you. I want to prevent this from happening to anyone else, but I need you to help me, help you.”

He slowly lowered his hands to the table, nodding once more even as his lips pressed into a fine line. “Yeah…yeah, okay.”

A quick minute passed as you allowed Anthony to calm down, letting him gather his bearings before continuing your questions.

“Can you describe him to me?”

“I couldn’t see much of him in the dark. He was pretty tall, over 6-foot, I think, had on a dark coat and jeans. Dark hair, strong jawline…that's all I could really make out, I’m sorry.”

“That’s good,” you assured him quickly. “Every little bit helps. Do you know why he attacked you?”

“No, no, we didn’t do anything to anyone. I kept to myself; Lauren couldn’t hurt a fly, even if she wanted to. Winny was outspoken, a little prejudiced against androids, but she never went out of her way to hurt anyone.”

“Did your attacker say anything that might have suggested otherwise?”

“I don't know,” Anthony answered with a confused grimace, “he only seemed interested in Lauren. He only ever addressed Lauren, until-"

Anthony became quiet once more, eyes wandering back and forth quickly as he processed his memories of the event.

“Until what?” you pressed carefully.

“Until Winny spoke up. It was after the third injection; he was going to give her another, but Lauren couldn’t handle it, agreed to whatever he kept whispering to her between them just to make him stop. Next thing I know, he's untying her and putting a gun in her hand.”

Anthony reached up and wiped at his eyes with the heels of his hands, and it was then that you realized he was crying.

“Sh-she had to shoot one of us,” he said, voice cracking. “Lauren had to make a choice, and the others would be set free. She had to choose to kill me or her own wife!”

His lips quivered, pressed real thin once more. He lowered his head then ran his fingers through his dark hair.

“I was so scared…we were all so scared. But if she didn’t choose, he was going to strap her down again, pump her full of blue blood until either the pain or the poison made her black out. If she didn't choose, he would have killed all of us.”

“Lauren didn’t kill her wife, did she?” you questioned softly. Anthony shook his head, his jaw clenching just as tightly as his eyes.

“Winny kept yelling at her to just shoot me, get it over with. But she never raised the gun at either of us. Lauren just…dropped, started begging to let us all go. He just pulled her up, started dragging her back to the table. And then Winny spoke up.”

There was anger in Anthony's eyes as they opened, a deep-seated fury that would have almost been terrifying had it not been mixed with the fear and hopelessness still present in his gaze.

“She volunteered to make the choice for Lauren, said she knew what he wanted from them. Said she would take the gun and shoot me without hesitation.”

“That’s why you thought he was human, at first,” you murmured, earning a small nod from Anthony. “Did he agree to let her make the choice?”

“He let her think she was making the choice,” Anthony replied bitterly. “He released her, told her she had one shot, but as soon as she moved to grab the gun from Lauren, he shot Winny in the head. Lauren freaked and shot at him; I-I think she intended to scare him off. She missed the shot. He didn’t.”

Anthony looked away, blinking rapidly in an attempt to fight back his tears. You gave him another minute to calm himself, knowing what could happen, should he stress himself too much. It was part of your job to ensure you gathered as much information as possible, but it still didn’t mean you felt comfortable grilling a victim for answers, even if it helped the investigation. You were just thankful he decided to cooperate with you.

“I just have a couple more questions, and then you’re free to go,” you said gently. Anthony looked back at you and gave a confirming nod.

“Do you have any idea why you, Lauren, and Winny were made targets? Any grudges, financial issues, maybe recent fights that could suggest who was behind this?”

“Like I said, Winny wasn’t exactly a saint, and she had her fair share of issues with androids, but she never acted out against them. And Lauren…she was kind. She pulled out the best in Winny…in anyone she met.”

“I have a friend like that,” you sympathized, mind wandering briefly to the image of a friend you had met through Connor. “He has a way of making others smile, whether they planned on it or not.”

“Lauren did that, too,” Anthony murmured. “Always wanting…wanted...to make the world a little bit brighter. She was my best friend. She didn’t deserve this.”

“No, she didn't,” you agreed vehemently, reaching for one of Anthony's hands, “and we are going to do everything we can to find whoever did this and bring them down.”

Anthony gave your fingers a firm squeeze, nodding in quick, jerky movements. He took in a breath through his nose, unnecessary, but the action seemed to calm him greatly. At such pivotal moments, small comforts were important.

“Just one more question, Anthony. Is there anything, anything else that you can think of that might help us figure out who did this? Any other defining features of the attacker, anything strange about the way he sounded, the way he talked? Maybe there was something he said that struck you as odd?”

Anthony became extremely still, his hand holding a steady pressure against yours. Whether he was being hesitant or thinking back, it was hard to say. Even his gaze seemed strangely void of anything, neutral in the most unnerving way. Then, whatever spell had been cast was suddenly broken, and his dark eyes were misty as he shook his head.

You glanced to the observation pane and gave a single nod before looking back. You gave yet another reassuring squeeze of your hand before letting go.

“Thank you for talking to me, Anthony. I know it wasn’t easy, but you’ve helped us come one step closer to catching this guy. Officer Monroe is going to escort you out to the lobby for one final official statement, alright? And if there is anything, any details you think of, no matter how insignificant they might seem, give us a call; you can ask for me, personally.”

“Y-yeah, of course,” Anthony agreed, standing along with you as the door to the interrogation room opened.

The officer standing guard outside the room stepped in, greeting Anthony kindly before extending his hand toward the door as a leeway for Anthony to follow through. He rounded the table as you came to the edge, his hand suddenly reaching out to yours again and gripping almost tightly around your wrist.

From your peripheral, you could see Officer Monroe reach for his gun with the fear that something was going wrong, but the slightest shake of your head told him that you were alright, that things were under control.

“Detective,” Anthony whispered, voice nervous and concerned as he leaned closer to you, “please, be careful. Our choices define us. Don’t let them tear you in two. He’s…he's watching.”

Anthony pulled away slowly, eyes narrowed with the same concern he'd expressed in his voice. You gave him the slightest nod, his grip on your wrist disappearing shortly after as he made his way out of the room with the officer right behind him. You were left to stand there, wide-eyed and confused, overwhelmed and suddenly rattled in a way you couldn’t describe.

You were startled by Hank's sudden entrance into the interrogation room, looking shaken himself by what had just happened.

“You alright, kid? Damn near thought he was going rogue or something, there at the end. Wouldn’t be the first time an android turned violent under stress.”

“I'm fine, Hank, really,” you assured in a rushed breath, feeling the air wasn’t nearly as thick with tension as it felt before. The older detective gave you a curious look, eyes narrowing warily.

“What did he say to you, just before he left? Couldn’t hear anything on my end."

You blinked several times, hand rubbing around the slight ache in your wrist.

“Nothing, really. He just said to be careful, is all; made me promise to bring in the bastard who killed his friend.”

Hank eyed you for a moment longer before letting out a heavy sigh.

“We'll get him. Come hell or high water, we'll get him.”

“I know we will, Hank,” you agreed, “I'm just hoping we can get this figured out soon. Last time the FBI got involved with an android-related case-"

“Yeah, don't remind me,” he groused, an instant understanding of what had happened over a year prior passing between you. You hadn’t been at the final demonstration, but the news coverage was enough to clue you in on what was happening, that things were about to change drastically. So far, it seemed for the better, but even good intentions had some hiccups.

“We better get back to Connor,” you suggested, swaying the conversation in a new direction. “Maybe he's gotten word from Markus.”

“Fat chance,” Hank grumbled, moving to the door and holding it open for you. You exited the interrogation room, Hank following close behind. “The guy's busier than our own nation's leader. Finalizing bills and documents, and all that boring paperwork shit higher-ups have to deal with. Kinda feel sorry for him.”

“Speaking of paperwork,” you teased, eyeing Hank with a smirk, “don't you have some documents to look over?”

“Oh, fuck you,” Hank bemoaned, though his heated exclamation was more for show than any ill-intent. You laughed at his expense, regardless. “I need a gallon of strong coffee to deal with this shit.”

Hank made a hard left toward the break room as soon as you both rounded the corner, leaving you to navigate your way to his desk, where you would inevitably be taking half the load of paperwork.

As you maneuvered your way closer, you spotted Connor at his adjoining desk, sitting at the edge of his seat while flicking a shiny quarter back and forth through the air between his hands. Calibrations during downtime, it seemed.

You smiled sweetly as you neared, your movement catching the android's eye. With a final flip of the coin and an impressive catch between his fingers, he pocketed the shining metal piece and sent a beaming smile your way. It never failed to make your heart flutter, that smile.

“Hello, Detective,” he greeted as you stood before him, leaning a hip against the edge of his desk. “I trust the interrogation went well?”

“Better than Hank thought it would,” you answered, clasping your hands in front of you. “The recording should be up in the system shortly, if you want to take a look.”

“Were there any complications?”

“Anthony was decidedly scared, angry, withdrawn, but became very cooperative when I went in to interrogate after complete silence with Hank and one of the other officers. I’m not entirely sure why.”

“You can be quite persuasive,” Connor replied, eyes bright and almost playful as his smile quirked ever so slightly to the right. The amused scoff that left your mouth was one of mild embarrassment, your eyes scanning the area around you briefly. No one else seemed to be paying attention to your quiet banter. Regardless-

“Connor,” you warned lightly, his brow rising in mock challenge.

He mimed your name right back at you, though the way it fell from his lips was less a warning and much more playful. You laughed lightly, shaking your head at his antics as you rubbed over your wrist, unaware of the subconscious motion.

If Connor noticed, he made no inclination toward the action.

“Alright, quit trying to rile me up. Have you been able to contact Markus, yet?”