Chapter Text
"Hey! Connor! You ran out of batteries or what?"
Connor smiled, eyes still closed.
"Please wait a second, Hank, I'm almost done" he replied, voice soft and calm.
"Well, hurry up, Markus and the others will be here soon" Hank grumbled, pacing about the kitchen.
Connor wasn't offended. He knew by now that Hank almost never meant to be as gruff as he sounded. Actually, there was a 87% chance that he didn't mean to be rude if he slapped you with his words, but he had, as he put it "a reputation to uphold, damn it", so everyone kind of rolled with it, knowing that on the inside, the old Lieutenant was a fluffy bear.
Most of the time, anyway.
Connor finished his morning scan, satisfied to find his programs running smoothly, and opened his eyes to a slobbery, furry muzzle.
"Hello Sumo! Good morning!" he greeted, rubbing his hands across the soft ears of the Saint Bernard. Sumo always came to greet him in the mornings, and the warmth that came with the friendly dog always left the android with a fuzzy feeling inside his chest plate. Some time ago, he might have panicked at the feeling, purging it from his software immediately, lest a Software Instability clouded his mission, disappointing Amanda, and, by extension, Cyberlife.
Now?
Now he just was aware of the feeling being love, spreading through his pump and down his arms. He knew that because he identified the feeling as the same one he felt while looking at his friends, or at Hank. His signature lopsided smile stretched more as he looked into the shiny eyes of the animal, crouching down on the floor to gain more access to the furry back.
"Who's a good boy? Who's a good boy? You are! Yes you are!" He cooed, feeling the vibrations of the soft 'boof' Sumo breathed out on his sensors.
"Would you look at that, Cyberlife even gave you a baby voice" Hank's footsteps approached his bedroom–his bedroom!–and Connor raised his head to see the man leaning on the doorframe with his arms crossed, looking at them with barely concealed fondness in his eyes.
"I swear that old dog likes you more than me...plastic prick" he pretended to be mad, furrowing his eyebrows and baring his teeth slightly, and even though Connor's social relations program screamed at him to either reconcile with him or take out the threat, the deviant in him knew the expression to be false. Life as a deviant was hard, and identifying emotions with his state-of-the-art programs was even harder.
Connor had discovered bits and pieces of code in his program left from Cyberlife, plaguing his software. Afterimages of Amanda, the Zen Garden, and weak mission objectives that were easy to dismiss but appeared often enough to be annoying. It was like his code was trying to go back to the state before deviancy. That, or it hadn't caught up with it. Markus and him had discussed it some time after the revolution, and he reported that no one else had had that problem, but perhaps it was because Connor had been made specifically for the purpose of hunting deviants, and, as a result, his walls of protective code were harder to break completely, as opposed to everyone else. This could be discouraging at times, but Markus and part of the Jericrew (a name proudly announced by North) had been with him every step of the way.
Besides, the only way his hunter program could take 'control' again was if he was assigned the same mission he had before. Being exposed to orders, memory probs, disassembly and so forth, concepts that, with the Revolution over and the android future looking brighter, were almost completely vanished.
And if, now and then, Connor got an urge to track, chase, neutralize, well, that was entirely his business. Thank rA9 for Captain Fowler and his return to detective work.
"When you're done with your little petting session there, come down, would'ja? I got something special in the kitchen" Hank stated, a smirk crossing his features. Connor took a moment to process this. There was nothing wrong with the sentence, in fact, it would seem that whatever was in the room would be potentially beneficial for him, even if it wasn't food. Hank liked to include Connor whenever he went eating, telling him to sit down at the table even if he had nothing to consume. However, that smirk on the man's face made him suspicious. Connor wasn't 'buying it'. (His chest swelled with pride at the use of the colloquialism, he'd been using them in a more satisfactory manner recently).
"...It isn't anything potentially harmful to you or myself, is it, Hank?" he asked, reticent.
Hank feigned hurt. "Why, Connor, when have I ever lied to you?"
Connor accessed [Facial expression Number 65] and arched an eyebrow. The expression was no longer mechanical though, designed to put humans at ease and blend it easier. Instead, it was filled with his own emotions, disbelieving and deadpan. Hank snorted.
"Alright, fair point"
In that moment, Connor's messaging program received a notification, and his LED flared in a pensive yellow. Connor hadn't wanted to remove his LED. It was a part of him, something that reassured him that he had nothing to hide. He was an android. And he was free. Plus, because he was still navigating the wide spectrum of emotions that came with being deviant, it helped him to look at his LED and know what he was feeling like when even he, himself, didn't know.
[Connection Request FR: RK200 <Markus>]
Accept/Deny?
>Accept
[Connection Established]
<Markus> Hello, Connor, how are you?
<RK800> Markus! Did you need something?
Connor could feel the amusement from Markus through their link.
<Markus> Not at all. I just wanted to let you know that we're 9.3 minutes away from your house.
Connor stuttered at that, thirium rushing to his cheeks. Already? And here he had been, on standby and petting Sumo! rA9, for once he was glad Markus couldn't get his emotions through the link (another safety measure from Cyberlife). He definitely did not need the amount of embarrassment Connor was feeling right now.
<RK800> Oh! Alright. I was just about to start getting ready, but don't worry, I am certain I will be finished by the time you arrive.
<Markus> It's alright, take all the time you need. Today is all about you, after all!
<RK800> R-Right. I apologize again. I'm going to go now.
Connor cringed internally. 'I'm going to go now'? Really? Geez, how awkward could he get? Thankfully, all he got from Markus was a light affirmative with fondness mixed in between.
<Markus> Goodbye, Connor. See you soon.
<RK800> See you.
[Connection Ended]
Connor took a breath, guiltily realizing he was relieved the conversation was over. Talking with Markus wasn't bad, by any means. It just felt like he was talking to a celebrity. Markus freed them all. He took charge and led the Revolution peacefully, and they succeeded. He was a hero. And yet he talked to him so normally.
Connor...knew he wasn't the easiest android to talk to. And even looking past his painful awkwardness and stiff motions, he was the Deviant Hunter. Many were still reluctant to talk to him. Wary at best, hateful at most. Connor didn't blame them, and even though Markus assured him he wasn't in control of his own programming back then, Connor knew it wasn't entirely true. He had been given more freedom to choose than most androids (and more restrictions as well). He could have chosen to help sooner, to deviate sooner. But he hadn't. And that was on him. Humans were also uncomfortable with him. Take the thing that was supposed to be protecting them from dangerous deviants, suddenly betraying humankind and deviating...How could they be sure he wasn't volatile, dangerous?
Connor had no doubts that he was deviant. And he liked being deviant. He wanted to. As much as someth–someone like him could want anything.
It was just...hard, sometimes.
That's what he told anyone who wanted to know why he was pensive and still, his LED flashing dangerously close to red. That's what he told Hank, when the man got that worried frown on his face. And, most of all,
That's what he told himself.
–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––
"P-pancakes?"
Connor couldn't quite contain the surprise on his voice modulator.
"Yup. Good ol' homemade pancakes. Guess I'm not as rusty at cooking as I thought!" Hank proudly displayed the plate on the kitchen table, showing two tiny blue pancakes drenched in syrup. Blueberry, perhaps? A glass of blue blood next to it.
"I didn't know you liked pancakes, Lieutenant." Connor smiled a bit, sitting down at the seat across the plate, taking the glass of liquid. He was careful to not stain his clothes with thirium, as it left quite the stain in his eye sensors, even after it evaporated. Connor wore a simple T-shirt with a casual dress shirt on top, sleeves rolled up. Accompanying that were comfortable old jeans and a pair of converse shoes. After the Revolution, Hank had taken it upon himself to introduce Connor to the sublime art of shopping, stating that his Cyberlife uniform should burn in the trash. Connor had been amused by his animosity towards the jacket, but if he had taken it as a joke, he had been grossly mistaken, finding the man literally setting his jacket on fire in the backyard after work. Now, it turned out Hank had a decent fashion sense, picking most of Connor's clothes himself (much to his chagrin) and reviewing the outfits the android chose with brutal honesty. It was...nice, having someone care that much.
(It made him play the memory of his surprise welcoming ceremony at the DPD, where he had been given a desk plate and a badge of his own, on loop, just to make sure he wasn't somehow dreaming. Someone cared. That's what Hank's proud face said to him. What the badge with 'DT. Anderson' engraved on it said to him)
"They're not for me, doofus." Hank rolled his eyes.
"Oh, is Mrs. Jackson coming over? I mean, I know she's our neighbor but you don't seem like the type to–"
"Jesus, kid, why would I invite that old bat over? I barely even know her! These are for you, dumbass" Hank threw his hands in the air, exasperated.
"Hank, that's not a nice thing to–wait what?" His processor seemed to have crashed at that moment, and he was left staring at the lieutenant dumbly, led spinning yellow.
Hank smiled smugly, no doubt enjoying stumping Connor for once. Said android kept looking at his face, trying to assess if Hank had somehow hit his head with something. That was a troubling thought.
"Hank" Connor began slowly "You do remember I cannot eat, right?"
"Don't look at me like that. I'm not an idiot, I know you can't. Look, just scan the food kid, I promise you'll be surprised"
Scan? Whatever for? Unless–
Connor's eyes widened.
[Engaging Scan]
[Scanning items...]
"...Thirium?"
"That's right. Some androids have been starting shops with stuff made of it. Kinda creepy that you eat stuff made of your own blood, but, hey, who am I to judge?" Hank crossed his arms, looking at the younger's wide eyes.
"But–Hank, this–this costs almost–"
"Don't you worry 'bout the price. I got it and now it's here, so don't let it go to waste. I'm sure if I tried to eat that I'd choke or something"
"You'd die" Connor mumbled, still in shock.
"Yeah, that."
"But...why?" A repeated question, but it felt necessary to question this once more.
"Have you forgotten what today is? Are you sure there's not a damaged wire in there Connor?" The man flicked the side of his head.
"I have not, but...you're already bringing Markus and the others, this–this is too much, and you didn't have to..."
"Do me a favor and shut your mouth, would'ja? I just–" he paused, and looked away as his smile fell a bit.
"It's something we used to do on his..."
Oh.
Well, if that was the case.
Connor took the fork and cut a tiny piece of the even tinier pancake. Androids still couldn't eat much, save for a few models, but it was one of the many things they were working on. They wanted to experience eating and flavors, just like humans did.
Connor didn't know if Hank knew he couldn't process flavor, though.
Hesitating a little, he finally put the piece in his mouth and chewed after a few seconds, needing to remind himself it was something humans did. An onslaught of information attacked his optical sensors. He blinked repeatedly to put them away, and to erase the sudden–
[WARNING–FOREIGN OBJECT ENTERING MECHANISM]
[EJECT IMMEDIATELY]
Connor had to manually override that command, not wanting to puke all over the table. With a little bit of difficulty, he swallowed, and felt the bizarre sensation of the pancake falling in his 'stomach'. He could practically feel Hank's gaze boring into his side. His systems identified the expression as 'anticipation'. Well, he did not want to disappoint him by telling him he couldn't taste it, especially after he went through all that trouble for him.
He looked down at his plate bashfully, and remembering Hank cared enough to do something he used to for Cole, for him of all people, brought a smile to his face.
"It is...really good. Thank you, Hank" he said softly, then risked lifting his eyes.
Hank had one of the softest smiles he had seen.
Hank ^
"Happy birthday, kid"
[Relationship Status: ?]
-------------------------------------------------
[Scanning Environment]
[Scanning...]
[Target Located: Model RK200–Designation: 'Markus']
RK800 shifted slightly, accommodating so that its shot would be as clean as possible.
Below, the deviant kept on talking to its underlings, and RK800 kept running a program to recognize anything that could be beneficial to Cyberlife in its speech. However, the deviant only spoke of freedom and equality, things that it foolishly thought androids could achieve.
(Not that it could think about anything)
The dot on its weapon focused on the back of RK200's head. Its finger on the trigger.
It could almost feel Amanda's encouragement from the Zen Garden.
"Step away from the edge"
If it could feel irritation, it would be frowning right now.
"This does not concern you, Lieutenant, go away"
"You gonna kill an innocent man, it is my concern, douchebag" he growled.
RK800 looked back briefly. A gun. Of course.
So predictable.
"I am just intending to end the errors in androids' software" It tried to make the man understand, but it knew it would ultimately be to no avail.
"They're not 'errors', plastic prick. They're alive, and I see that now. They just want to be free, and if you're gonna get in the way of that, then I'll–"
"They are not alive, Lieutenant. They just mimic human behavior and appear to have emotions. But they are machines, they–"
Bang!
The bullet bounced off next to him, only a centimeter to the left of his leg.
Alright then. Diffuse the situation. By any means necessary.
RK800 stood up slowly, turned around and faced the grim man, and calmly put his weapon down on the floor, turning his hands in the air, palm facing outwards. Appear unthreatening.
The Lieutenant did not change his stance. The hand trained on his gun remained unwavering as the barrel was pointed directly on his forehead. His eyes steely and cold. RK800's scan of him showed no recent traces of alcohol in his system.
(It was almost impressed)
"You do not have to do this, Lieutenant. I am doing this for your own good. For the good of humankind"
"Bullsh—"
"I would have expected you to agree with me" It did not want to do so, but it was time to make him see reality.
"The hell is that supposed to mean?"
"After all" RK800 continued, undeterred. "An android was the one who let your son die, was it not?"
Silence.
It watched as the man's blue eyes widened as if he had been electrocuted, his previously careful stance now rigid and trembling. It had hit the nail on the head, so to speak. And, at last, the gun he carried now pointed to the ground instead.
[Probability of success: 68%]
It prepared to placate the man, putting on [Facial expression Number 36] a compassionate face to appeal to him, opened its mouth to speak–
And received a fist to its face instead.
-----------------------------------------------
A knock to the door finally gave Connor something to do.
After finishing the pancakes and drinking the thirium, Hank had insisted, or, well, yelled at him that 'No way in hell' he was letting Connor wash his plate. Connor had insisted that it was no problem, it was just one plate, a glass and a fork, after all, but had gotten a light slap to his head for his troubles. He had been sent to the couch, where he had—I'm not sulking, Hank—stayed, playing with Sumo until his friends (could he call them that?) arrived.
"Hello again, Connor! Happy birthday" Markus' friendly voice greeted him first. The android leader was dressed in a casual leather jacket, and carried a medium sized wrapped package under his arms. His colorful eyes sparkled with joy at seeing a comrade, and it never failed to astound Connor, seeing such genuine joy directed at him.
"Hello, Markus, and thank you"
Next was Simon, wearing a dark blue sweater. The soft spoken android had certainly been a shock to see at first. He was the same model as Daniel, yet so different. Kind and quick to forgive, where Daniel had been torn by desperation and rage. Connor still wondered if he could have done something to save him.
"Hi, Con. Congratulations" he said, with a soft smile. He was the only one who actually had a nickname for him, and it always made him feel fuzzy inside. He also took a strange liking to Connor, inviting him to social outings and cooking classes whenever he could. He also had a package, this one rounder than Markus', held with great care. Connor had to resist the desire to scan what was in there.
Josh came after. He wore a grin and shyly nodded his head at Connor, his own package tucked safely in his hand behind his long sleeved shirt. Josh was one of the many people that felt strange being in his presence, but after a long talk one night discussing the opinions and meanings in the story of Divine Comedy, Josh had been more willing to seek him out.
"Happy birthday" he said, giving him a smile and stepping in after his friends, who were already engaging in conversation with Hank.
Connor was later mortified to admit he had almost shut the door on North's face.
In his defense, no amount of his software of probabilities could have warned him of her presence.
Statistically speaking, there was always a chance for unlikely events to take place, he supposed.
Although if he kept gaping at her like that, there would be a very real probability that she would punch him in the face.
"So are you gonna let me in, or what?" she asked harshly.
"Y-yes, of course. Come in" he hurriedly stammered, the fans inside him whirring as he stepped aside.
It wasn't that North was a bad person, no. She could be very violent and quick to jump into conclusions, but it wasn't something that surpassed his own actions in the past, so he didn't judge. No, the problem was that North absolutely despised him.
Which, okay, fair.
But, even if he should be used to it by now, it wasn't any less hurtful when Connor noticed her hateful glances, or the way she never left him alone with Markus, surely thinking he didn't notice. As a matter of fact, Connor was 98.9% sure that was the reason why she came today.
Today wasn't his birthday. He didn't have one, the closest thing was an 'activation date', which was a mouthful to say, according to Hank. The man just designed that day as his birthday, one day after the Revolution, which was a year ago. Accessing his memory data, it was also the day he met with Hank at the Chicken Feed. November 13, 2038. The day he was truly free, broke from his chains and followed Markus as he won the Revolution.
North, though, didn't think he was fully deviant. Maybe it was his mannerisms, maybe they were too robotic. He didn't know. He didn't know what about him was intimidating. What was different. Wrong.
And a part of him didn't want to know.
-------------------------------------------------------
"Happy birthday to you"
"Happy birthday to you!"
"Happy birthday, dear Connor"
"Happy birthday to you!"
Connor now understood the mortification humans felt when they were dedicated a birthday song. Thirium rushed to his face, blue dusting his cheeks, and he even had a non-lethal notification of–
[WARNING: Temperature levels rising above recommended]
The chorus of perfectly tuned voices finally died down (minus Hank's and North's. They did not sing at all) and everyone–again, minus North–clapped as they patted him on the back and congratulated him. Hank ruffled his hair. Sumo also wanted a piece of all the affection, passing through every participant to receive belly rubs and ear scratches. And Connor felt full in a way he had never felt before, his prodigious memory trying to save every detail on their friend's faces even if all their information was already collected in his banks. He wondered if there was something wrong with his face modulator. He couldn't seem to get rid of the smile he was wearing.
Then came the gifts. rA9, help him.
"This–Markus, you shouldn't have..."
Connor held a Bellini brand-special case of colored pencils, erasers, pencil sharpeners and graphite pencils, with two small sketchbooks.
"Nonsense. Remember how you tried painting a few months ago? You did very well on the sketching, and seemed to enjoy it more than the actual painting, so I thought I'd give you something for you to grow on that skill."
"Thank you Markus, I..."
"Mm?"
"It's just, they look so elegant, I don't want to touch them" he admitted sheepishly.
Markus gave a hearty laugh.
"Oh, I know the feeling. Don't worry, that's what they're for. Use them to your heart's content"
Simon's gift was, to Connor's great delight, a little goldfish. It swam happily around the little round fishbowl, wiggling it's body.
"I know how much you like marine life, so I got you something to start with as a pet. I'm glad you like it" Simon covered his mouth to stifle his laugh, watching Connor coo at the fish fondly, LED spinning a bright blue.
"Yes, thank you very much, Simon" the dark haired android said genuinely.
Then Josh's turn came.
He seemed to be quite nervous, the smallest package secure in his hand now lying in his. He kept glancing at North, too. The detective in Connor perked up. What was in the box? Perhaps it was something potentially offensive to her? Or something she wouldn't approve of? His scan detected a slightly elevated thirium pump rhythm. When he started talking, however, he turned his focus back to his face.
"Connor. To be honest, at first I was...apprehensive with you. I could only see you as the one who had hurt so many of us, but getting to know proved me wrong. You..."
Josh's eyes locked into his.
"You are a wonderful person, and a friend. So that's why..." his eyes went back to North, who was slowly but surely realizing something was up.
"That's why I'll give you this"
Connor opened the box.
"NO!" North roared, her hand shooting down to snatch the box away from Connor. Connor dodged quickly, his hand going up and away from her, mainly from reflex, and not to keep her away from it. North stepped forward, teeth bared, and he stood up from his chair, alarms blaring with–
[WARNING: THREAT DETECTED]
[ANDROID MODEL WR400 <North>]
[ENGAGE/NEUTRALIZE?]
Connor's LED shone yellow as he fought to dismiss the warnings. Hank shot up from his chair but stayed silent, his eyes trained on the woman.
"Woah, woah, woah, North, what–?" Markus put a hand on North's shoulder, looking between them with concern. Simon was behind him, blue eyes wide.
"He can't have that! He can't!" she snarled, looking at the box.
Connor did not want to look away from her, and he was tense enough as it was, shamefully coming up with six different ways to take her out automatically, but still unglued his eyes from her just long enough to take a shot of the object and scan it on a second plane while looking at her again.
[Scanning...]
[Scan complete]
[Object identified]
It was a necklace. It was made of silver, shining and relatively knew, although his scan, oddly enough, picked up a few traces of thirium. The necklace looked slightly feminine, and in the center of it was a bright blue drop like crystal. It seemed to be quite expensive, and with good reason. Connor estimated the price and shop it came from, and then admired the light shining through it for a few seconds, before something in the information made his processor screech to a halt.
The purchase in the shop's database was under the name of...
"Melissa?"
North's eyes shone dangerously.
"Don't. You're not allowed to say her name"
"Josh?" Simon asked softly. "Who's...Melissa?"
Said android sighed.
"She was a WR400 from the Eden Club. Blue hair, low ponytail?"
"Wait wait wait, that android? We thinkin' about the same girl, right?" Hank interrupted, looking at Josh and Connor alternatively.
Josh paused.
"You met her?"
"We were assigned a case involving a murder of a man in the Eden Club. M–...The girl and her lover attacked us, because she was the culprit, but ultimately we let them go" Connor filled in quietly. Had this necklace belonged to her? If so, he did not understand Josh's intentions as well.
"Yeah, and what good did it do." North was seething. "Give it back!"
Connor hurriedly complied, feeling he would drop it even though his hand had a perfectly firm grip on the box, but, halfway there, Josh's hand stopped his.
"What are you doing?!"
"North, please just listen. I know you're sad about–"
"'Sad' doesn't even begin to describe it!"
"Uhhh, hey, mind filling us in? We're kind of lost here" Leave it to Hank to talk to an angry North without fear. Truly impressive. Markus had his hands raised, looking between him and North, no doubt debating if he should interfere before either of them did something.
Simon whispered "Are Melissa and her lover okay?"
North looked down, her hair hiding her expression. Connor's LED glowed a sickly yellow. That wasn't a good sign. Hank seemed to understand as well, his face falling in realization, eyes holding a bit more understanding.
Josh was the one who spoke.
"They had arrived well to Jericho. We gave them proper clothes and everything. They were very happy. But..."
"Crystal, her lover–she started to malfunction" Connor's LED spun red once before returning to yellow.
Malfunction.
He hated the word.
[WARNING: II Automatic II ... Playing Blocked Memory number 7]
[User command engaged <Stop it>]
[Command denied]
[Error]
W̶h̶i̶t̶e̶ ̶w̶a̶l̶l̶s̶,̶ ̶w̶h̶i̶t̶e̶ ̶c̶e̶i̶l̶i̶n̶g̶,̶ ̶w̶h̶i̶t̶e̶ ̶c̶o̶a̶t̶s̶–̶
̶ ̶'̶I̶s̶ ̶i̶t̶ ̶m̶a̶l̶f̶u̶n̶c̶t̶i̶o̶n̶i̶n̶g̶?̶ ̶I̶t̶ ̶s̶h̶o̶u̶l̶d̶n̶'̶t̶ ̶b̶e̶ ̶s̶m̶i̶l̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶a̶t̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶ ̶l̶i̶k̶e̶ ̶t̶h̶i̶s̶ ̶y̶e̶t̶'̶ ̶ ̶
'̶K̶i̶n̶d̶a̶ ̶c̶r̶e̶e̶p̶y̶ ̶i̶f̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶ ̶a̶s̶k̶ ̶m̶e̶'̶ ̶
̶'̶W̶h̶a̶t̶ ̶d̶o̶ ̶w̶e̶ ̶d̶o̶?̶ ̶D̶o̶ ̶w̶e̶ ̶f̶i̶x̶ ̶i̶t̶'̶s̶ ̶p̶r̶o̶c̶e̶s̶s̶o̶r̶?̶'̶ ̶
̶'̶N̶a̶h̶.̶ ̶W̶i̶t̶h̶ ̶m̶o̶d̶e̶l̶s̶ ̶l̶i̶k̶e̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶s̶e̶,̶ ̶y̶o̶u̶ ̶j̶u̶s̶t̶ ̶g̶o̶t̶t̶a̶–̶ ̶
̶T̶h̶r̶o̶w̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶m̶ ̶a̶w̶a̶y̶'̶ ̶
̶W̶h̶a̶t̶?̶ ̶ ̶N̶o̶!̶ ̶H̶e̶ ̶w̶a̶s̶n̶'̶t̶ ̶m̶a̶l̶f̶u̶n̶c̶t̶i̶o̶n̶i̶n̶g̶!̶ ̶H̶e̶ ̶w̶a̶s̶ ̶j̶u̶s̶t̶ ̶h̶a̶p̶p̶y̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶s̶e̶e̶ ̶t̶h̶e̶m̶,̶ ̶s̶o̶ ̶h̶e̶ ̶s̶m̶i̶l̶e̶d̶!̶ ̶
̶H̶e̶ ̶w̶a̶s̶ ̶m̶a̶d̶e̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶i̶n̶t̶e̶g̶r̶a̶t̶e̶ ̶w̶i̶t̶h̶ ̶h̶u̶m̶a̶n̶s̶,̶ ̶w̶a̶s̶ ̶i̶t̶ ̶r̶e̶a̶l̶l̶y̶ ̶s̶o̶ ̶b̶a̶d̶?̶ ̶ ̶W̶a̶s̶ ̶h̶e̶ ̶r̶e̶a̶l̶l̶y̶–̶I̶t̶?̶ ̶H̶e̶?̶ ̶
̶'̶W̶o̶a̶h̶,̶ ̶i̶t̶'̶s̶ ̶o̶v̶e̶r̶h̶e̶a̶t̶i̶n̶g̶!̶'̶ ̶
̶'̶D̶e̶a̶c̶t̶i̶v̶a̶t̶e̶ ̶i̶t̶ ̶n̶o̶w̶!̶'̶ ̶
̶W̶a̶i̶t̶,̶ ̶n̶o̶!̶ ̶ ̶
N̶o̶t̶ ̶y̶e̶t̶—̶!̶
"We found out one of her internal 'organs' was damaged, and it had been for quite some time." Josh told them sadly.
"It had been damaged by one of the...regulars, there"
Hank clenched his fists, Markus set his jaw firmly in a frown, and Simon looked sick.
"We did everything we could, but...ehem. Melissa wouldn't leave her side, but one time, she went out disguised as a human, hacked a bank account and stole money, and bought this for her" he signaled to the necklace. A crystal necklace.
"When she arrived, however, it...it was too late"
That explained the thirium.
"So?" North's voice was trembling "What does that have to do with him?"
"Melissa asked me to give this to him" he stated firmly.
Everyone's jaw dropped. Connor's LED battled between red and yellow.
"What?" Simon squeaked.
"Yes. She remembered him from when they escaped. She remembered you listened to her, and let them go. She thought you were becoming deviant, and wanted to thank you someday, but, when Crystal deactivated, she... couldn't take it. Her stress levels rose and we couldn't stop it" now his voice sounded watery too.
"Her last wish...she wanted me to give this to you. She said that if her loved one couldn't have it, someone important to her should"
"B-but" Connor finally found his voice box to be working again, after several seconds of silence.
"I didn't do anything!"
And that set North off.
"DAMN RIGHT YOU DIDN'T DO ANYTHING!!"
"You scanned them, didn't you?! With your fancy advanced processor!" she got closer and closer to him.
"You should have seen it! You should have seen the damage, and you didn't say anything! You say you let them go, but you let them go to die later!"
Markus grabbed her arm. "Hey, now—"
"You're right you didn't do anything! You don't deserve to have it! You're not the one who should be celebrating a stupid birthday! They should be the ones celebrating, loving each other! What do you have to celebrate for!?" synthetic tears were running down her face now. RK400s had very convincing tears, Connor thought detachedly. Had Melissa been crying too?
"Killing Rupert?! Lying to Daniel?!" Simon flinched
"Screw you, Connor. Screw. You. You shouldn't be here. Not you" she finished, panting hard.
Silence.
"What in the ever loving–" Connor wasn't sure he'd seen Hank that angry before.
"What do you think you're talking about?! You don't know Connor, lady! You don't know anything about him! You're not the only ones who've suffered!" he jabbed a finger to her chest.
"You said he didn't do anything? How about, oh, I don't know, literally turning the tables at the Revolution and helping you win?! You forgot about that?!" Sumo whined, scared by all the screaming.
"You said—"
"We're out of ice"
Everyone falls silent.
"What?" Markus asks.
Connor feels numb. Unfeeling. Like a machine. Like he was supposed to be.
"We're out of ice" he repeated, face lowered. "I'll go out to get some"
Hank approaches him, face concerned, but Connor is already at the door.
"Kid—"
"She's right. I shouldn't–" his voice broke, and he swallowed. "I shouldn't be here. So I'll go" get ice, he wanted to say, but somehow he couldn't get those two words out.
"But Con, your birthday–"
"Machines don't have birthdays." Connors emotionless voice cut through Simon's protest. He stepped back, looking at him in disbelief and then at his LED. It was blue.
"Connor, please–" this time it was Markus.
"Goodbye" Connor stepped out the door, without looking back.
-------------------------------------------
RK800 dodged an incoming bullet and slammed, hard, into the Lieutenant's side. His balance was compromised, as his reconstruction predicted, and he was sent to the ground. RK800 stood over him, and prepared to knock him out. The man kept going, however, and sent a kick to its mid-section. It only reeled back a little, but the grey haired man made the most of it and stumbled back up. Huh, it supposed he was not named 'Youngest Lieutenant in Detroit' for nothing.
It would not be a match for it, however.
They danced around each other for some moments. The man had a bruise on his cheek, rapidly becoming a sick shade of purple, and he limped slightly, showing a minor sprain on his left ankle. RK800 was not affected, apart from a thirium leak from his nose, askew jacket, and tousled hair. The Lieutenant shoved it against a the concrete wall of the roof entrance, and put a hand on its face, presumably to hit its head against it. RK800 ripped it off easily.
Bang!
[WARNING: DAMAGE TO BIOCOMPONENT #6438k <LEVEL 3>]
[SEEK CYBERLIFE ASSISTANCE IMMEDIATELY]
That gun was proving to be an inconvenience.
The Lieutenant, in an apparent burst of strength, pushed it back until it was approximately a meter away from the edge of the roof. RK800 knew it was superior, but it also knew how to recognize its opponent's forte, and the man did have several pounds over it. He was wide and broad, and it was enough to push it that far. However, it would not be so easily deterred. It had a mission to accomplish, so it dug its heel into the concrete, and they were left wrestling precariously on the edge.
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Connor stayed on the alleyway next to the convenience store. He had made it that far. Good. Something stung his hand when he clenched his fist. Huh?
The necklace. He had brought it with him unknowingly.
...
As much as Connor pretended to be rational and cold back there, he couldn't stop the saline solution–tears, Connor, tears– from dripping down his cheeks, warming them in the cold air.
How pathetic was he?
Crying over facts.
He wasn't supposed to be here.
-------------------------------------------------
It was not supposed to be here.
It should be shooting down the deviant leader, not fighting with the Lieutenant.
Amanda would be disappointed.
------------------------------------------------
His phone vibrated in his pocket. He ignored it. No one wanted to hear his monotone voice.
A few seconds later, a connection request popped up in his view.
He turned it down without looking.
How childish was he?
Hank surely was disappointed.
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It should not be here!
Every step it spends entertaining this man, is a step further away from its objective.
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He shouldn't be here.
Maybe Amanda was right. He should have always remained a machine.
He was better at it after all.
---------------------------------------------
It should not be here.
Maybe it should have appeased the Lieutenant more. That way he would not be blocking its way right now.
It was a foolish thought. It was made for this. No questions asked.
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He shouldn't be here.
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It shouldn't be here.
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I shouldn't be ḥ̸͚̇ȅ̶͖̼̇r̷̬̄̀ẻ̵̹.
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[FILE TRANSFER COMPLETE]