#wolfsandhooves

[unbefuckinglieveable]

The Third Path (HICHE PT2)

// This is a trigger heavy post, just like, 'How It Could've Ended' if you are sensitive don't read, features major character death. And self depreciating thoughts. I tagged those on my tag list who liked pt 1 so as always <3 to be added to the 'Remember Me'-> 'How It Could Have Ended' taglist

  “Lieutenant? I think you should stop staring at that picture.”  Connor warned, eyeing the picture of Cole with the slightest hint of frustration  in his voice. Hank was beyond drunk, or even the “Drunker” he had explained helped him think. Hank was morbid. And the gun in his hand didn't  have just one bullet this time. It held four.

     “You have a 66.67 percent chance of dying now. This isn't  a game, it's suicide, Hank.” Connor had protested.

      Hank glared at the Android scolding him.  Who the fuck was he to tell him what to do. “ Great, I get to be with my son.  I don't have to live in this fucked up world where the only things convinced I should live is a dog, and a Plastic prick like you Connor.  Get the fuck outta my house.” The elder had growled and put the gun to his head and pulling the trigger.

      Lucky for Connor, Hank fell into the 33.33%  chance that it was an empty slot, the gun clicked uselessly. Connor lunged across the table and wretched the gun free from Hank's  grasp. Hank stood grabbing his coat from the back of the chair.

    Then something occurred  to Connor, Hank really did think of Connor as just a machine, a Thing.  “What, you ran outta whiskey so you're  gonna go looking for trouble!” Connor yelled in anger, he thought Hank was past calling him a ‘ Plastic Prick’

      “If I come home and you're still here, you will wish, that  you would have shot yourself on revolution day.” Hank warned looking at the younger before walking out the front  door and slamming the screen door in an inebriated fury.

     Connor  stayed standing in the kitchen, the revolver in his hand weighed heavy on his mind. His stress ticked higher as he looked at it.  He didn't want Hank to go, he needed Hank. Hank had started teaching him what it means to be a human.

   Stress levels: 78.48%

     “H-Hank… Hank wait!” Connor called out to him but stayed put he looked at the revolver in his hand, he could feel the weight  of the bullets, and the tense feeling under the trigger, he stared at the whiskey bottle for a moment. He could have taken Sumo for a walk to cool himself off (RM path), he could  has chased Hank ( Hiche pt1 path), and he could have packed and left ( next path), however sitting at trying to think this through. Everything so quiet he could hear his processors  whirring in his head.

    “I never mattered to you, did I Hank?  I was just a tool,a Thing, for you to use just like Cyberlife used me.  I just never mattered.” The distraught deviant said to himself his hand pulled his coin from his pocket  spinning it on the table with his free hand the weight of the gun still in his mind.

     ‘You know Connor, you should really listen to Hank.  He is your friend, right? Don't want him to come home  and catch you there. He threatened to kill you’ Amanda advised with a calm tone which irritated  Connor more than her normal chiding tone, like she was talking to a child.

     “You know,  my audio processors are working  properly. I do not need an echo. And he wasn't  my friend, he used me just like you did.”

      ‘ Yet there you sit, and you can't  really blame him for that Connor. The department  had to threaten his job to even get him to keep you this long’

Stress level: 88.79% approaching critical

    “What  bio-component  can I rip out to be rid of you?”

    ‘Your thirium pump regulator is the only one you can access to do it yourself.’  

    Connor debated in his mind whether or not to just do it,  and decided against it while he still had brain power to decide for himself. He tucked the revolver, in the waistband of his charcoal  black slacks. He left a note on the table.

‘ If I didn't call, I'll be home soon. Not that it would matter. -RK800’

   He set his keys on the table and walked to the door, he needed to leave, to think and he didn’t  want Hank to come home and play his game alone. Not just him and Sumo. He felt the autumn rain on his synthetic skin and sighed hoping the walk would  calm him down. He walked down the street.

   ‘Connor, you know it isn't  ever going to get easier, people are just going to treat you like a thing or a threat’

    “Who treats me like a threat?”

    ‘The deviant leader,  the one you were supposed to kill? He is always watching you, to make sure you aren't  dangerous to him or his cause anymore. If you were he would have used Jericho to neutralize you by now. Did you honestly  think he'd be the one to care? You met him with the intent to arrest or kill him, and told him such to his face.’ Amanda  chided, Connor almost able to feel the smirk on her disgusting face.

    “Could you just stop! Your not helping!” The android yelled at her out loud. People across  the street looking at him while walking their dogs.

 Stress levels: 95.39 percent critical approaching self destruct

   Connor  made it to a park bench touching the spot on his head where his Led was and called Hank. He  couldn't handle it. He needed her to stop. And she'd could not plausibly talk to him while his mental processors were connecting the call, right?  Right?!

--

   Hank sat in Jimmy’s  bar drinking more to calm down from that fight, it wasn't  working. He just wanted to see Cole. He wanted his son, why was it such a bad thing. Sumo was a great dog, he'd  be adopted so fast. Connor could… do whatever the fuck he wanted to do. Why was his phone ringing? The Lieutenant  looked at his phone and hit ignore once he saw Connor name and a smiley face appear in his caller ID.

   “Fuckin’ android  I don-” The phone started ringing  again.

   Hank stood stepping outside the bar and flipped open his phone, snapping at Connor. “If I don't want to see your face right now, why do you think I wanna listen to your voice!”

    “.....I can't  make her stop, she won't  stop please… she won't get out of my head.” Connor whispered, he sounded defeated, even though he tried, she still berated him, tortured him, his plan had failed.

    “What the hell are you tal-” Hank heard a familiar click. It was the sound of his service  revolver clicking an empty chamber. “ Connor Put my revolver down! Go get in bed count paper clips.”

    “I left home. Like you wanted.  She won't stop!” Connor yelled.

     Hank paled, he ran down the stairs,  and passed the alley where judging by the wet thuds he heard sounded like two freaks having sex in his haste.  “ What are your stress levels?”

     “98.89 percent and rising, why do you care! I'm  just a Thing to you! A tool only slightly more important  than your terminal at work! Amanda shut up! Please! I can't! I can't! I can't! Hank I-”  

The line went dead in the Lieutenant’s ear.

    When the Lieutenant  returned home, he found Connor’s  note and coin sitting by the last bottle of whiskey Hank Anderson would ever touch.

He deserved to live.

Suffering sober