#I know that Connor falling through Hank’s window

[reedeemable]

Ngl, I know that it’s for the sake of gameplay but realistically, given Connor’s abilities, Connor never should be able to be bested in combat.

Against too many people, like Cyberlife guards, yes that’s believable cause of the numbers (although we’ve seen Connor take down a group of them so it would have to be a lot) but verses others like Hank, The Tracis and even Markus, there honestly should be no contest.

[nevadancitizen]

-> CH. 11: ONLY PHILOSOPHY FROM THE POOR RINGS TRUE

synopsis: the meeting with kamski went as predicted: poorly.

word count: 2.9k

ships: Connor/Reader, Hank Anderson & Reader

notes: sorry for the late update my summer semester started and it's an english class so i have to write a lot ;;

HoFS taglist: @catladyhere , @foggy0trees0 , @princessofenkanomiya , @n30n-f43 @igna4400 (if you'd like to be added to the taglist, just ask! -- also i feel like i'm forgetting someone somehow? if i missed you, please let me know <3)

HEAD OF FALSE SECURITY MASTERLIST

Even as Hank drove, prattling on about whatever to Connor, you were glued to your phone, frantically typing away. 

You: chris i heard about what happened. it’s all over the news You: they didn’t release the names of the officers but i know for a fact you were on patrol last night You: chris answer me You: i haven’t been able to get through to your wife just answer me You: chris i’m really worried about you You: chris i swear if you’re dead from a heart attack or something i’ll kill you You: you better have a damn good excuse for staying silent You: like your phone better be dead or something  You: please be okay. that’s all i ask You: really. please.

You shut your phone off and put it away with a huff. You opt to look out the window at the snowy landscape that’s dotted with barren trees and evergreens. 

“What’s up with you?” Hank asks.

“Chris,” you say. “He’s not answering his phone. I’m… I’m really worried about him.”

“He’s a fighter.” Hank takes one of his hands off the steering wheel to grab your shoulder and shakes you lightly. “He’s probably fine.”

You grumble and slump in your seat, a whirlwind of what if’s going through your head. Hank takes his hand off your shoulder and returns it to the steering wheel. 

You check your phone every thirty seconds for the next few minutes until the car rolls to a stop in front of a house with too many angles. Hank’s phone buzzes where it lays on the console. 

He sighs and puts the car into park and shuts the engine off. “I’ll take this outside.”

Hank grabs his phone and shuts the car door after he gets out. He wraps his coat tighter around himself and starts to slowly pace in front of the car as he takes the call. 

“What do you think that’s about?” You ask.

“It’s probably someone from the precinct,” Connor says. “I doubt anyone else would call him during his working hours.”

You huff out a laugh and slump in the passenger seat. “You would be surprised…”

You hear Connor pop open the backdoor, but he doesn’t step out. “We should check on him.”

“Just wait,” you say. “And close the door. You’re letting warm air out.”

Connor shuts the door and waits. You wait with him, keeping your phone in hand just in case it buzzes. 

After a few minutes, Hank comes back to the car and knocks on your window. You hop out, and Connor follows. 

“Who was on the phone?” You say before Hank can get a word in. “Was it Chris?”

“Yeah,” Hank says, a faraway look on his face. “He was attacked by a bunch of deviants while on patrol. Said he was saved by Markus himself.”

“Is he okay?” You ask quickly. 

Hank nods. “He’s in shock, but… he’s alive.”

He turns away and starts walking up the snow-covered stairs. “What the hell…”

You and Connor follow, falling in step side-by-side. You hate how right it feels, to be walking next to him (and you really hate how he slows his stride to match yours, because it just shows how much he cares – even if he doesn’t truly care).

“I have a bad feeling,” Connor says after a few moments of silence. “We shouldn’t have come here.”

“You and me both,” you mumble.

“Bad feeling, huh?” Hank says from in front of you and Connor. “Should get your program checked. Might be a glitch.”

You glance at Connor. He looks back at you and shakes his head, silently saying, That’s unlikely.

Hank steps up to the door and rings the doorbell. You and Connor stand behind him, idly waiting. After a few moments, a woman opens the door. Actually – an android opens the door.

“Uh, hi,” Hank says awkwardly. “I’m, er, Lieutenant Hank Anderson, Detroit Police Department. I’m here to see Mister Elijah Kamski.”

The android smiles and moves to the side, sweeping a hand to gesture inside. “Please, come in.”

Hank glances back at you and Connor, then steps inside. You and Connor follow, and the android closes the door.

“I’ll let Elijah know you’re here,” she says. Her voice is soft, and melodic. “But please, make yourself comfortable.”

The parlor is anything but comfortable. It’s a stark grey with fluorescent lights, and the (honestly, quite jarring) large portrait of Kamski looking down his nose at the occupants of the room doesn’t make it any better. 

Hank moves over to one of the chairs and sits down. It looks more like a piece of modern art than an actual seat. 

You come to stand beside his chair. “Fancy yourself Сердцеедом, huh?”

“Shut your fuckin’ mouth,” Hank grumbles. 

You laugh and rock onto the balls of your feet, then settle back down on your heels. “Apologies, sir.”

You watch Connor instead. He looks up at a picture of a younger-looking Kamski with an older black woman and mumbles something you don’t catch. You turn your eyes away to look at one of the indoor trees before he turns around.

“How would he maintain the tree while it was inside?” You ask nobody in particular. 

“It’s a sculpture,” Connor chimes as he walks over and sits down in the other seat. “It’s made from corten steel and has a layer of alloying elements to prevent oxidation.”

You reach out and touch one of the delicate-looking leaves. Sure enough, it doesn’t bend or really do much of anything under your touch. “Huh. Didn’t know Americans were so advanced in their… sculpture technology.”

You settle down on the arm of Hank’s chair and observe the room from there. He doesn’t seem to mind.

“Nice girl,” Hank eventually says. 

“You’re right,” Connor says. He squints at something only he can see. “She’s really pretty.”

You ignore the creature (once prideful, now cloaked in jealousy) in your belly and reach behind you to nudge Hank slightly. Connor referred to an android as a she. Hank nudges you back and you return your hand to your lap. 

“Nice place,” Hank opts for instead. “Guess androids haven’t been a bad thing for everybody.”

He leans forward so your body isn’t blocking his line of sight with Connor. You lean back and perch your hands on the edge of the seat so it’s easier. “So, you’re about to meet your maker, Connor. How’s it feel?”

Connor continues staring forward for a second, then turns to look at Hank. “I don’t know.” He returns his gaze forward. “I’ll tell you when I see him.”

“Sometimes I wish I could meet my creator face to face,” Hank says softly. His eyes turn to the floor. “I’d have a couple of things I’d wanna tell him.”

You turn your head to look at him. “I have a feeling you’d talk more with fists rather than words.”

“That I would.” He looks up at you. “What about you?”

You shrug. “I made my peace a long time ago. I’m not particularly afraid of death. Maybe of a painful death, but not of death itself.”

“So you’d prefer dying in your sleep?” Hank asks.

“I’d prefer you not asking that question at all!” You laugh. “But, yes. I suppose.”

The pretty android re-enters the parlor and holds the door to another room open. “Elijah will see you now.”

You stand, as does Hank. You take the lead into the next room with two sets of footsteps behind you. 

The room is an indoor pool. Across one of the walls is a large painting of a face, its eyes covered and smoothed over, the rest obscured and artifacted. One of the other walls is made up of a window that looks out onto the snowy landscape. 

But the real eye-catcher is the pool. It’s perfectly rectangular and lined with what looks like red granite. Two models of the android that greeted you into the home are on the side of the pool, both in navy bikinis. They don’t talk aloud, instead choosing to communicate through silent messages – as evidenced by their LEDs blinking every few seconds. 

The water in the pool, which at first glance seemed to be ox-blood-red, stirs as Kamski kicks off the edge, sending him through the water. 

“Мистер Камски?” You call politely. “Khm… Mister Kamski?”

“Just a moment, please,” he says, his voice filled with the smugness of an asshole that knows he has everyone in the room under his thumb. 

You follow Connor, who’s looking out the window, observing how the snow falls on the waxy leaves of the white pines. 

“Nice, isn’t it?” You say, just soft enough for him to hear. 

“Does it look like this back home in Russia?” Connor asks, his voice just as soft as yours. 

“Somewhat,” you say. “Giant sumpweed has taken over some parts and is making things ugly, last I saw. But there are conifers, like those.” You point at one of the pines, then look over your shoulder. “We’re getting distracted. Let’s go.”

You turn just in time to see Kamski pulling himself out of the pool, gripping the metal of the pool ladder as he does. One of the androids comes over, holding a black bathrobe. She helps Kamski into it, then she ties the knot at the front. 

He walks – almost wanders, honestly – near the wall-length window. He stops in front of a coffee table, still facing out, and ties his hair up neatly. 

Kamski turns so that he’s facing all three of you. He almost looks bored, as if he wasn’t the one who accepted this meeting in the first place. 

“I’m Lieutenant Anderson,” Hank says. He introduces you, then Connor. 

Kamski folds his hands in front of him, his gaze flicking between you and Hank. “What can I do for you?”

“Sir, we’re investigating deviants,” Hank says. “We know you left CyberLife some years ago, but… we were hoping you’d be able to tell us something we don’t know.”

You dip your head, trying to come off as respectful as possible. “Mister Kamski, I work with deviants – dissect them, rather – regularly, trying to find the root cause of deviancy. But, as the days go, nothing changes. We’re making absolutely net zero progress in our investigation. Every answer just leads to more questions that poke holes in our answers.”

Kamski stares at you through his eyelashes for a long second before speaking. “Deviants… fascinating, aren’t they? Perfect beings with infinite intelligence, and now they have free will.”

He glances at an android standing nearby in standby mode, her unblinking eyes staring perfectly ahead. “Machines are so superior to us. Confrontation was inevitable. Now, humanity’s greatest achievement threatens to be its downfall.” He huffs out a laugh. “Isn’t it ironic?”

“We need to understand how androids become deviants,” Connor cuts in. You’re secretly glad for the break from Kamski’s droning voice. “Do you know anything that could help us?”

“All ideas are viruses that spread like epidemics,” Kamski says. You fight the urge to roll your eyes so far back you’d be able to see your brain. “Is the desire to be free a contagious disease?”

“Listen, I didn’t come here to talk philosophy. If I wanted to, I’d ask this one.” Hank jabs a thumb at you. “The machines you created may be planning a revolution. Either you can tell us something that’ll be helpful, or we will be on our way.”

Kamski stares at Hank for a second, then walks to stand in front of Connor. “What about you, Connor? Whose side are you on?”

Connor stares down at him, then his eyebrows twitch down. “It’s not about me, Mister Kamski. All I want is to solve this case.”

Kamski ducks his head and laughs. “Well, that’s what you’re programmed to say. But you…”

He steps closer to Connor. Connor keeps staring, unshaken and almost unblinking.

Kamski’s voice comes out as a hushed whisper. “What do you really want?” 

Connor’s lips tense into a thin line, then part. He glances away, then makes eye contact again. His chest rises in an unneeded, artificial breath. “What I want is… not important.”

Kamski keeps looking up at him. “Chloe?”

The android, who you now know has the designation Chloe, steps forward, her bare feet making soft sounds against the carpet.

“I’m sure you’re familiar with the Turing test.” He turns Chloe by the shoulders so that she’s facing the three of you. “Mere formality – a simple question of algorithms and computing capacity. What interests me is whether machines are capable of empathy. I call it the ‘Kamski test,’ it’s very simple, you’ll see…”

Kamski moves so that he’s standing beside Chloe. “Magnificent, isn’t it? One of the first intelligent models developed by CyberLife.” He reaches out and touches her cheek, guiding her to face him. “Young and beautiful forever. A flower that will never wither.”

You roll your shoulders back to suppress a shudder. Kamski’s handling Chloe like one would handle a cattle carcass, pointing out where the sirloin, tenderloin, top sirloin and bottom sirloin end and begin. 

“But what is it, really?” Kamski turns to face the three of you again. “A piece of plastic imitating a human?”

He walks back, opening a drawer on the coffee table and pulling something out. “Or a living being, with a soul?”

He turns, holding a pistol by the grip in a way that would make it impossible to fire. After a moment to establish that he’s not a threat, he walks forward and puts the gun in Connor’s hand. Connor’s index finger finds the trigger on instinct.

“It’s up to you to answer that fascinating question, Connor.” Kamski moves Connor’s arm so that he’s pointing the gun at Chloe. “Destroy this machine and I’ll tell you all I know. Or spare it – if you feel it’s alive – but you’ll leave here without having learnt anything from me.”

“Okay, I think we’re done here,” Hank cuts in. “C’mon, let’s go, both of you. Sorry to get you outta your pool.”

“What’s more important to you, Connor?” Kamski asks, drowning out Hank’s voice. “Your investigation, or the life of this android?”

“Enough of this bullshit,” you say. “Let’s leave.”

Connor doesn’t turn to even acknowledge that you said anything. He just stares down the sights of the pistol at Chloe, who looks up at him, a dead look on her face. 

“Decide who you are,” Kamski says in a hushed whisper. “An obedient machine? Or a living being, endowed with free will?”

“That’s enough!” Hank barks. He grabs your wrist to force you to follow him (not like you were planning on staying). “We’re leaving.”

“Pull the trigger,” Kamski whispers, like a devil on Connor’s shoulder. “And I’ll tell you what you wanna know.”

“Connor!” You snap. “Не смей.”

It seems to take Connor a tremendous amount of effort, but he eventually manages to bend his arm and offer the gun back to Kamski. 

“Fascinating,” Kamski breathes out as he takes the pistol. “CyberLife’s last chance to save humanity… is itself a deviant…!”

“I…” Connor tears his eyes away from Chloe to look at Kamski. “I’m not a deviant!”

“You preferred to spare a machine rather than accomplish your mission.” Kamski helps Chloe up with his free hand. “You saw a living being in this android… you showed empathy.”

He dismisses Chloe with a light touch on her shoulder and turns to Connor. “A war is coming. You’ll have to choose your side… will you betray your own people, or stand up against your creators?”

Connor stares down at him, unblinking once again. 

Kamski tilts his head to the side, a sad smile on his face. “What could be worse than having to choose between two evils?”

Hank reaches out and grabs Connor’s shoulder, pulling him away. “Let’s get outta here.”

You follow after them, only stopping when Kamski calls out behind you. Connor stops next to you. 

“By the way,” he says. “I always leave an emergency exit in my programs. You never know.”

You tug Connor along by his wrist. “I could’ve told you that. I know his androids like the back of my hand.”

Connor stays silent, but lets you guide him out the front door and down the snowy steps. You only let go when Hank comes to a stop in front of you. 

He leans against the railing of the stairs and looks at Connor. “Why didn’t you shoot?”

Connor takes an artificial, sharp breath. He clenches his hands into fists, then releases them. A faint memory in your mind reminds you that the Ortiz android did that in the interrogation room, when he was under stress.

“I just saw that girl’s eyes… a-and I couldn’t, that’s all,” Connor manages. 

“You’re always saying you’d do anything to accomplish your mission,” Hank says. “That was our chance to learn something, and you let it go.”

“Yeah, I know what I should’ve done!” Connor snaps. “I told you, I couldn’t.”

He faces Hank, his eyebrows drawn together. “I’m sorry, okay?”

Hank looks Connor up-and-down and smiles. “Well, maybe you did the right thing.”

He walks away, back towards the car. You smile to yourself, that light feeling in your chest again. You allow yourself to feel just a bit more hope – the spark is well-maintained, but still, it grows. 

You reach out and touch Connor’s wrist. His eyes snap to yours.

[colossalcriminal]

Memory Lane, Detroit. - j.m.

Pairing: Joel Miller x fem!Reader, slight Connor x fem!Reader, Hank x Daughter!Reader (mentioned), Last of Us x Detroit: Become Human crossover. Summary: They say home is where the heart is, but when Y/N stumbles upon Detroit on their journey to Wyoming, she feels as though home is where her heart once was, and where it could be one day.

Content warnings: mentions of death, pregnancy, late30s!reader x 50s!Joel. Android revolution failed in 2002, outbreak occurred in 2003.

They're in Detroit.

Something about it hits her like a tonne of bricks or tripping on cobblestone when wearing nice heeled shoes like they used to. Either way, she stumbles, nearly falling. Maybe it's the air, the feel, the familiarity, but she's certain it isn't the look of it.

Detroit is unrecognisable, for the most part.

That's what one nightmare after another does to a place, she guesses.

"Come on, I know somewhere we can stay the night."

Joel and Ellie follow her, nearly mindlessly. The former takes note of this as Y/N's domain, her territory, etched into the back of her brain, and the girl isn't one to argue with her like she does with Joel.

They walk, as they have done through the summertime. Every now and then her eyes trail over a familiar street sign, or an old store. She swears you could hear a subtle whistle in the wind, a slight hum of laughter, but she decides it's the ghost of her youth.

Not terrible, is one way to describe the house. The disease has been kind enough to leave it remotely untouched. It's dark, but the windows are open and the curtains are torn, so it has been touched.

Joel goes to open the door, the handle doesn't budge, he grunts. "Hold on." He steps away with a huff, watching her movements. Y/N kicks over a potted plant, the organism long dead and smelling slightly foul if you're close enough to it, underneath is a silver key. "Spare."

She unlocks the door with a professional force, the kind you'd employ if you were a resident of the property, but Joel doesn't ask her just yet. Ellie is the first to go inside, instantly hopping onto the couch. The springiness surprises her, a giggle escapes her lips, Y/N smiles. "Ellie, there's a room down the hall for you. On the right." She listens, dashing down the hall and into the bedroom whilst the older woman stays put. "Hello?"

"Who're you calling out to?"

Her head snaps in Joel's direction at his query, he stands near the entry to the kitchen. "Was just wondering something."

The house is empty, apart from the three of them. She goes past him into the kitchen, there is a nearly empty bottle of liquor by the sink, a singular photograph on the surface of the dining table. "You alright, darlin'?" Her partner says from behind her, he presses his chest to her back, his arms caging her against the table.

"Yeah." He catches a glimpse of the photo she stares at before she turns to face him. "Just thinking, honey."

A sigh escapes his mouth, his hands plant themselves on her waist. "I know." And he does, he knows what she's thinking about. "Any idea where he is?"

Y/N shakes her head. "For all I know, he could be-"

Joel interrupts her, his digits lightly dig into the flesh of her midsection. "Don't think like that. C'mon, now," His right hand travels, his fingertips lightly hooking under her chin, she finally looks into his stormy grey eyes.

The corners of her lips tug upward, the smile is small, she places a quick peck on his lips. "Let's get some rest, hm?" They slowly step to the living room, he settles in to the sofa first, she doesn't join. "Hold on, just wanna see something outside. I'll only be a minute."

"Be careful."

And so she is, silently leaving the house, her hand stays on the handle of her gun, fingertip teasing the trigger.

It's eerily quiet. A rustle. It's faint, almost nonexistent, she turns to her left. "Jesus, fuck."

The subject of her curses tilts his head, his eyes squint momentarily. "Y/N?"

"Yeah, Connor."

They look at each other, it isn't brief or fleeting, their stares bore holes into the other.

Connor looks just as he did twenty years ago, his skin smooth, hair dark and eyes youthful, but his clothes are rugged, his CyberLife jacket has been lost and his tie is ripped. The sleeves of his button up are folded to reveal dirt stained forearms.

His eyes, they're dim, dark brown and dull, probably from some many years of lonesome survival. They soften upon her, her own tiresome eyes could mirror his, the underneath of them are dark and slightly hollow.

Also hollowed out are her cheeks. Small wrinkles fold over each other at the outer corners of her eyes, her hair isn't as long as it once was, but for the most part, Connor smiles at how gracefully she has aged, despite the obvious circumstances.

"How are you?" The question is futile, but he hasn't had much practice with human interaction in recent decades.

"Surviving." Her brows furrow, she's unable to remain curt, cool and collected, worry flashes across her features. "You're still here? After all this time?"

The android nods, somewhat proud, a little. "Taking care of the house."

"I guess no one expects an android to stick around." He smiles a little at the humor in her sarcasm. "Where is he? My dad."

Connor takes a step forward, and judging by the frown playing at his lips, she knows what is coming. "Y/N," Her head begins to nod, despite the news still inching off the tip of his tongue. "Hank died. Seventeen years ago."

"Oh."

Something shifts in her stomach, a revelation, a sense of relief. A conclusion has been presented to her, certainty floods her veins, a light has shone itself upon the darkness of unknowing and death.

"Was he," The woman sucks in a breath. "was he alone, or in pain? Was he bitten?"

"No. No, he was sick. He had been for about a year, he decided it was time." Y/N's lips purse, she continues to nod feverishly, her brain processes his words. "He thought of you. You and Cole were the last Hank spoke about. We didn't know you were alive."

On that cool day in September twenty years ago, she'd arrived in New York for university, but had barely made it through her first lecture when the news echoed throughout the bustling city.

"Yeah, I know." Y/N sniffles, not from tears, but something tingles. "I tried driving back to you, couldn't make it past Pittsburgh, it'd been quarantined by then."

Connor nods. "Yes."

"I found a group, a couple of us settled in the Boston QZ."

He tilts his head, curious. "Boston's far, what are you doing here?"

She rubs at her temples, shifting her weight between her feet. "We think we've found something, a cure, we need to get her to a lab in Wyoming."

"Her?"

"It's complicated."

"I can help."

"What?"

The android is unfazed. "I can help you get to Wyoming."

A click sounds, from behind her, she turns to find Joel, weapon in hand and pointed for Connor's head. "Y/N, go inside, I'll deal with him."

She shakes her head, a breathy chuckle leaves her. "No, Joel, this is Connor."

His gun lowers. "That Connor?"

"Yeah. Connor, this is Joel, my,"

"I'm her husband." He finishes, face suddenly scrunching in disbelief when he faces her, no one can pinpoint the expression he holds.

"I will give you both some time to talk." Connor, in true android fashion, abruptly walks away, his hands clasped behind his back.

Y/N sits on the stone steps that lead to the porch of the house, planting herself next to where Joel stands. She tugs on his trousers, he sits next to her. "That android thing?"

"That android thing cared for my dad and kept this house in shape." She tells him. "My dad worked the deviant cases to stop the android revolution with him. I was nosy, pestering Connor for information."

"Haven't changed much, honey."

Her shoulder bumps his, it does little damage. "When you met me in Pittsburgh?" He nods, urging her to continue. "I had driven from New York, was just about to start my first year of college."

Joel's hand rests on her thigh, the warmth of his palms comforts her skin, she leans into him completely and he welcomes her touch with a kiss to her hair. "He wants to help us get Ellie to Wyoming."

"Can he use a gun?"

"Mhm."

"Alright, then."

Removing her head from his shoulder, she looks up at him, kissing his lips once, twice, until he holds her jaw and keeps her lips put against his for a third, longer time. She chuckles into his affection, they part minimally, until the similar rustling of an android's footsteps return. "Hey, you're sure you want to come with us?"

Connor nods at her question, he holds his hand out to Joel, who takes it firmly, barely shaking it. "I'll see you both inside."

"Yeah, baby." Her hand trails along the side of his torso, fingertips hovering over his leg as he gets up, Connor takes Joel's place next to her. "It's good to see you, Connor, after so long."

He smiles, fully, this time, slightly toothy. "You, too, Y/N. You've grown."

"Mhm." There's a certain glee in his awkwardness, "Hate the fact that you look the same, so damn great, fucking android."

The familiar sound of her sardonic humor hits his ears, it's like music to his mechanical brain, he dares to chuckle. "Sorry, about that. You don't look too bad yourself." It takes everything in the blue of his blood not to mention how similar she is to Hank.

A moment of silence, there's something she wants to say, Y/N remains chewing on the words, stewing in her vocabulary. "You can say it."

"I'm pregnant."

That isn't what he's expecting, he's taken aback, eyebrows raised for just a moment. "Congratulations."

"Well, thanks, yeah, kind of. Shit world we're in." Connor doesn't respond, he agrees. "But Joel takes good care of me. Been doing so for sixteen years."

"That's good." He looks at her, rather than ahead across the street like they have been doing. "You can always come back here."

She does the same, also smiling. "Yeah? Thanks, Connor."

Quiet, Detroit is so quiet, peace is a smell in the air.

The door to the house opens at such a speed, it threatens to fly off its hinge. "Joel said there's an android!"

"Fucking Joel." Y/N mutters.

[staleclown]

Worker’s Comp-Chapter 2

A/N: Dude, I don’t know. I just kept putting words on the page.

Hank twisted the key out of the car’s ignition with a sigh, and looked to the crumpled android in his front seat. The kid had tried to rest his head on the glass of the window like he had on the way to the repair center, but every pothole Hank hit caused Connor to quietly groan until he moved to cradle his damaged cranium against the seat’s headrest instead. Since then, he hadn’t moved from that position, his head tipped back and his eyes shut. The only indication he was even awake was the way Connor kept rubbing his thumb over the smooth surface of the quarter he had finally bothered to dig out of his pocket. Hank had half expected him to do all his fancy tricks with it—android concussion or not—since it seemed to always bring the kid a little comfort, but Connor had simply held onto the coin like a lifeline.

As Hank swung the driver’s side door open, Connor slowly lifted his head to peer at him, as if he couldn’t fathom why Hank would get out of the car.

“Come on, kid, let’s go inside,” Hank said, trying not to let his worry seep into his voice as Connor gave him a very distinctively frog-like blink.

Hank didn’t dare shut his car door, afraid of what the sound would do to Connor, and circled around to the passenger door. He gingerly pulled it open, watching with predominantly concern—albeit with some amusement—as Connor fumbled with the seatbelt. After a few agonizingly long moments, he freed himself at last and braced his elbows against the back of his seat to prepare for what Hank guessed would be a clumsy exit from the car.

Once again, Hank placed a hand against the top edge of the doorframe, hovering just above Connor’s scalp. His other arm was outstretched in front of the poor kid in case he were to trip or otherwise fall, but Hank didn’t touch him, knowing how much Connor hated to be fussed over.

The android was…mostly successful in getting up by himself. He stood, although uncharacteristically slouched, in front of Hank, for all of ten seconds before his knees buckled, catching himself with one hand on the still-open car door, and grasping at Hank’s sleeve with the other.

“Geez, kid, if you wanted help, all you had to do was ask,” Hank teased, pulling Connor’s hand from his coat sleeve and instead placing it over his shoulders so he could take a brunt of his body weight.

Connor uselessly swatted at Hank with his free hand. “’m…fine…”

”Sure you are, Connor.”

Hank practically dragged Connor up the driveway, despite only taking a few steps at a time before pausing. He had left the car doors wide open after spending a minute inwardly debating whether he should try to close them quietly and risk the car not locking properly or if he should leave them wide open and come back out to close them once Connor had been set down inside. As one infamously cannot have shit in Detroit, Hank was just grateful that his old shit box had nothing worth stealing in the five minutes it would take to dump Connor on a preferably comfortable surface.

When they reached the front porch, Hank fumbled as he fished his keys out of his front pocket and unlocked the door. He then tossed said keys onto the closest end table and ignored how badly he missed, using his now free hand to readjust his grip on Connor’s side. He shuffled them past the abandoned key ring on the floor and into the living room, where he gingerly set Connor to lean against the couch cushions. As soon as his aching body made contact with the battered old pillows, Connor slumped so hard he nearly folded in on himself, squeezing his eyes shut again to dispel the dizzying nausea rippling through him. As much as he was nervous to leave him alone in that kind of state, Hank hustled as much as his old bones would allow to lock up the car.

Connor rested his elbows on his knees, letting his head hang limply between his shoulders. He heard Hank enter the house again and shut the front door with a soft click, but the sound of his footsteps in the kitchen felt muffled, like everything was underwater. Nonsensically, all he could think about was that he felt bad for fish if this is what they felt like all the time.

The tell-tale sound of Sumo’s nails clacking against the hard floor broke through Connor’s reverie. The Saint Bernard approached him, sniffing and nosing at one of his hands. When this failed to get him rewarded with head pats and ear scratches like he usually did, Sumo looked up at him with sad eyes as he rested his head against Connor’s arm.

Hank returned to the living room to find Connor and Sumo staring blankly at each other. He set the bottle of thirium he had retrieved from the kitchen onto the coffee table, and Connor looked up at him, his mouth hanging slightly open and his eyebrows furrowed.

”When did you get here?” Connor asked.

”This is my house, kid.” Hank replied, shooing Sumo off so he could sit with Connor on the couch.

“No I mean…like…in the room.”

”About a minute ago.”

”I don’t recall that,” Connor mumbled, pensive.

“Well I’d be more surprised if you remembered much at all, Con.”

“Huh.”

Hank just shook his head, picking up the TV remote from the arm of the couch. He hoped android processors healed faster than human brains. He wasn’t sure just how much more of this he could take.

…

The game had been on for all of five minutes before Connor stood from the couch abruptly, swaying unsteadily.

”Connor, you okay?”

He gave a rushed mumble of “no” as he staggered to the bathroom as quickly as he dared. Hank was, for once, quick to follow on Connor’s heels, but the door was already shut by the time Hank reached the bathroom. He hovered uncertainly; of course the poor kid wanted privacy, but considering Connor never used the bathroom for anything more than gelling his hair, Hank was concerned that whatever was happening now was decidedly not normal. He only managed to force himself to wait a few breaths before knocking.

”Connor? What’s happening?”

He was answered only by a muffled retch, which told Hank all he needed to know. He let Connor be, stuffing down all the questions about whether or not androids were supposed to be able to do that, and returned to the couch, although he didn’t pay very much attention to the game. His foot tapped anxiously against the floor, and he couldn’t quite coax Sumo to quit standing in the hallway and whining.

Connor rejoined Hank on the couch after several long minutes. His synthetic skin had taken on a waxy color, and beads of artificial sweat gave his skin an unusual sheen. Hank hadn’t even been aware the kid could sweat. Connor looked in disdain at the bottle of thirium on the table, as if it were the source of all his issues.

“Everything okay? You run one of those diagnostic things or something?”

Connor glanced at him, just barely, before answering.”Yes. Everything is functioning as it should.”

”That sure as hell didn’t sound like everything was ‘functioning as it should.’”

“Just a routine thirium purge. Some of my supply must have been contaminated when the gash in my forehead was open.”

Hank blinked. “So you’re all good now?”

“Presumably.”

”Well, if you’re using a damn ten-dollar word like that, I think you’re on the up and up, kid,” he replied, sighing out the last of the tight concern in his chest. “What’s your blood level or whatever at right now if you just puked half of it up?”

Connor actually rolled his eyes at that, which Hank hoped was just another bout of temporary irritability, because he’d have to kick Connor’s ass if it became a regular occurrence. “It wasn’t even close to half, Lieutenant. My thirium levels are at a safe level.”

Hank ignored the deliberate use of his title. “That doesn’t exactly fill me with confidence, Con. Maybe you should try to uh, drink, I guess, some of that blue blood on the table.”

”My self-healing program will be able to complete the repairs even if I do not replenish my thirium supply.”

”And then what? You’ll just shut down after?”

Connor scowled. Bingo.

”Drink the thirium, Connor.”

”I’ll probably just vomit it back up.”

”Well at least you’ll have something to throw up. Just take it slow.”

Connor huffed, but reached for the plastic bottle anyways. He cracked open the lid and twisted it off, surprisingly deft for someone with a concussion. Finally satisfied that the kid wasn’t going to incidentally die by his own stubbornness, Hank kicked his feet up onto the coffee table and idly wondered just how bad having Connor’s accident-prone ass around was for his blood pressure.

[ao3feed-gav900]

'Til the break of dawn

https://ift.tt/imVrK9W by HighlyExplosiveContent "And don't get me started on that fucking cable car," Jeffrey growled. "I can't believe no one warned us about it. Thought we would fall straight to our deaths there." Ben shuddered. "Don't say stuff like that. I read this big news article about two sisters who got lost on this mountain, years ago." He spread his hands, and Hank and Jeffrey leaned closer. "They probably fell into the mines surrounding the place. But I don't know, no one found the bodies, and apparently there had been this creepy guy stalking the place after–" Okay,  Hank stopped listening right there. He'd much rather watch through the round window of the kitchen door, back to where Connor was chatting to a coworker on the couch. He hummed when Jeffrey commented on something Ben said, still focused on Connor. Fuck, he'd never ever get through this weekend like this. It was torture to pretend like he didn't want to lock himself in a room with Connor and not step outside until they were going home.   ---- The DPD go on a team building trip on Blackwood mountain, and get more than they bargained for. Words: 12955, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game), Until Dawn (Video Game) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Categories: M/M Characters: Hank Anderson, Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Upgraded Connor | RK900, Gavin Reed, Jeffrey Fowler, Ben Collins (Detroit: Become Human) Relationships: Hank Anderson/Connor, Background Gavin Reed/RK900 Additional Tags: The DBH/ Until Dawn crossover you never knew you wanted, The violence is very light compared to the source material, canon compliant animal death, Fuck Buddies to Lovers, Hank thinks they're being sneaky, Mutual Pining, Porn With Plot, trapped in a cabin, Blow Jobs, Anal Sex, talking about feelings, Terminator Connor, Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), Ben Collins is a gossip, this is veery loosely connected to Until Dawn, Everyone lives, even Gavin

[ao3feed-hannor]

'Til the break of dawn

read it on the AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/51851566 by HighlyExplosiveContent "And don't get me started on that fucking cable car," Jeffrey growled. "I can't believe no one warned us about it. Thought we would fall straight to our deaths there." Ben shuddered. "Don't say stuff like that. I read this big news article about two sisters who got lost on this mountain, years ago." He spread his hands, and Hank and Jeffrey leaned closer. "They probably fell into the mines surrounding the place. But I don't know, no one found the bodies, and apparently there had been this creepy guy stalking the place after–" Okay,  Hank stopped listening right there. He'd much rather watch through the round window of the kitchen door, back to where Connor was chatting to a coworker on the couch. He hummed when Jeffrey commented on something Ben said, still focused on Connor. Fuck, he'd never ever get through this weekend like this. It was torture to pretend like he didn't want to lock himself in a room with Connor and not step outside until they were going home.   ---- The DPD go on a team building trip on Blackwood mountain, and get more than they bargained for. Words: 12955, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game), Until Dawn (Video Game) Rating: Explicit Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Categories: M/M Characters: Hank Anderson, Connor (Detroit: Become Human), Upgraded Connor | RK900, Gavin Reed, Jeffrey Fowler, Ben Collins (Detroit: Become Human) Relationships: Hank Anderson/Connor, Background Gavin Reed/RK900 Additional Tags: The DBH/ Until Dawn crossover you never knew you wanted, The violence is very light compared to the source material, canon compliant animal death, Fuck Buddies to Lovers, Hank thinks they're being sneaky, Mutual Pining, Porn With Plot, trapped in a cabin, Blow Jobs, Anal Sex, talking about feelings, Terminator Connor, Post-Pacifist Best Ending (Detroit: Become Human), Ben Collins is a gossip, this is veery loosely connected to Until Dawn, Everyone lives, even Gavin read it on the AO3 at https://archiveofourown.org/works/51851566

[howtodisassembleyourdeviant]

A sharp gust of wind rattles the windows, making Connor jump, nearly spilling his soup all over himself. Hank quickly moves to steady him.

“It’s alright. We’re safe in here,” he assures. They go through this every winter, to the point that Hank saves up his time off to ensure he can be there for the child he has welcomed into his home and his heart. Connor has been through so much in his short life, and it’s left its mark in more ways than one. Even as he begins to come out of his shell, there are just some things he hasn’t been able to conquer.

It’s alright though. Hank swore he would always be there for Connor. Even as Hank tucks him against his chest, arm thrown over his shoulder, he could feel the boy relax, feeling a sense of safety he had not known for the first nine years of his life. 

“Can we watch The Iron Giant?” He asks, his voice quiet and subdued but very much his own. When Hank first met him, Connor sounded so stilted, if he spoke at all, afraid of saying the wrong thing. Afraid of any sort of punishment. Even moving too quick was sure to make him flinch and tremble. Connor has been coming out of his shell, little by little. No longer does he fear that Hank will do anything but care and protect him. Any issues he has, he immediately turns to him, asking for help, for approval, and Hank is there to guide him. Connor has grown so much after two years, Hank could hardly believe it.

“Dad?” Hank could feel his heart melt. This is what fatherhood felt like. 

“Sure, son. Whatever you want.” 

....................

My second commission from @julientel​!!! Took me a while to post because writing is hard right now, but I just had to. Connor has a fear of winter storms, and Hank’s way of comforting him is closing the curtains, giving him some hot tomato soup and grilled cheese, and keeping him close while they watch movies together. It’s not a fun time for Connor, knowing what’s happening outside, but Hank manages to help him forget about it and help him relax. Eventually, Connor will fall asleep and Hank will drape a blanket over him, knowing moving him will only wake him up. It will be a long night, but he’ll be there for him the entire time. I love this piece, how you can really see the care Hank has, protecting Connor from everything as he tries to calm himself. 

[lexalor3]

To Be Human (Connor RK800 x Reader)

tags: deviancy case 2038, reader gets shot, injuries, mild kissing, tender romance, soft vibes, protective connor, hank is like a dad to you, surgery, hospitals, crushes

summary: You're assigned to the deviancy case with Hank and Connor, he just had to be cute.

a/n: love him sm, he's like my ultimate early high school fave also I hit 900 followers yesterday so thank you all!!

Why did he have to be cute?

Stupid Cyberlife and their stupid cute new android at the precinct. Connor or the RK800 Model had been working with Hank for a while on the Deviants case. Which you had now been assigned to as well.

“Kid! Let’s go,” Hank says, “Another fuckin’ android killed its owner.” You nod, grabbing your bag, and after Hank, only to bump into Connor and fall to the ground, Connor stops, taking your hand into his and pulling you upwards. “I apologize, Sergeant (L/N), are you alright?” You feel your brain practically malfunction for a second, his hands were so warm and you couldn’t help but think about how his hands would feel- You clear your throat and simply nod. “Y-Yeah! Thank you, Connor. Now we should get going; Hank is waiting for us.” You both speedwalk side by side, it’s quiet, a bit frenzied, mostly on your part but Connor’s mere presence is comforting to you. You step outside, it's pouring rain, hitting your back with thick drops as you run with Connor, who shields you a bit as you make your way into Hank’s car.

“You two took long enough.” Hank simply says as you both buckle into the back of his car, you stew a bit in your feelings, looking over at Connor who shakes his head, “I’m sorry, Lieutenant.” You echo Connor’s sentiment, staring out the window, just to avoid everything else. “You two are… You’re fine.” Hank looks at the two of you in the mirror for just a second before focusing his attention back on driving, he’s got something on his mind, the tension inside of the mid-sized car is palpable. You could slice through it with a knife.

Suddenly, before you know it, the car ride which had felt like hours long stops. You open the door, and everyone steps out of the car wordlessly into the heavy rain. You can only bring yourself to look at Connor for just a moment. His eyes are trained on you, carefully, but he tries to avert them when you look at him. You offer him a smile, it’s awkward but manageable.

You step onto the crime scene, typical fare, the smell of gunpowder lies heavy in the air. This was recent and the deviant is still around. You look over to the officer in charge of the crime scene, “Has anyone checked upstairs?” He nods, “Only a brief sweep though, be careful.” You nod, “Hank, stay here, you too, Connor.” Connor shakes his head, “I cannot allow you and the Lieutenant to both make bad decisions. I will come with you.” You smile amusedly and Hank shrugs his shoulders, “You need him more than I do, be careful, kid.” You nod and begin to silently creep up the stairs. Connor’s a few steps behind, quiet as well, the chatter from below the both of you silences as you reach the upstairs portion of the house, mostly unknown territory. “Seargent, I wanted to apologize, just in case I may have made you-.” You shush Connor, you hear footsteps in the room over. “Hello?!” You call out, you reach the room and while you don’t see anything, you are standing only in the doorway.

“Is anyone in here?” You ask, not expecting much of an answer. “Come out with your hands raised, and we won’t hurt you.” There’s shifting from under the bed and you feel panic bubble into your throat, you reach for your gun but suddenly, you feel a sharp pain shoot through your thigh, ringing in your ears, and you’re on the ground. 

“Get off of me!” You only partially hear the commotion going on, the shot ringing through your brain, and you feel the weight shift on the wooden floor, Hank standing over you, and then pressing against the wound on your thigh. You whine at the pain, and then you see Connor, his hand on your wrist, monitoring your pulse, “You’ll be alright, Sergeant, just… look at me.” He sounds panicked, and you decide that must mean you’re screwed.

“Connor, don’t let me die, please…” It’s quiet, almost just a whimper from your lips but he shakes his head, his free hand is on yours. “You’re going to be alright, Sergeant, I won’t let you die.” The EMS arrive quickly after and even as you’re taken to the ambulance, Connor’s hand never leaves yours. “Lieutenant, please.” You hear Connor plead with Hank, “Keep ‘er safe, got it?” You hear Hank relent and it warms your heart, he’d been like a father to you and you’d certainly remember this moment.

You look over to see Connor, running his hand through your hair. His shirt is bloody and his tie isn’t there anymore, it’s wrapped around your thigh as a tourniquet. “Thank you, Connor…” You croak out, your throat is dry. “I retrieved the deviant, I am only disappointed you fell into harm’s way for me to get them.” You shake your head, “It’s… not the deviant’s fault, Connor. He was scared.”

The doors of the ambulance open and you’re lifted down out of the ambulance, Connor’s staring at you, he looks anxious, nothing like the android he’s supposed to be and you appreciate it. He follows after at a distance, and you watch as he has to be told not to follow you into surgery, all of his rationales were gone.

When you wake up, he’s still there. Quiet, oozing anxiety. “I’m alright, Connor… You’re too worried.” He shakes his head and threads a finger through your hair, moving your hair behind your ear. “I’m worried, (Y/N)... I may be a… a deviant!” He whispers his confession, ashamedly but you shake your head, “That’s okay, Connor. You need to know that is okay. You’ll be okay if you’re deviant.” He shakes his head, “I don’t want them to shut me down… To take me apart and wipe me. I don’t want to lose those… those memories of you and living.”

You smile, it’s weak but it’s there, “You’ll be okay, Hank and I will be there to keep you safe, from Gavin, from Cyberlife, from the whole damn world.” He looks as though he may overheat, so he simply presses his lips against your forehead.

“I was afraid you’d die, (Y/N)... You’d die and I’d never tell you how I felt about you.” You feel like you’re about to vomit and you’re not sure if it’s the confession or the anesthesia wearing off but, you fight through your nausea. “How do you feel about me? Connor?” He looks guilty, “I think… You’re very aesthetically pleasing to me and I would like to… I’d really like to take you somewhere that you’d enjoy.”

The confession, though a bit teetering and nervous, is one that you’d been hoping for. You stare at Connor, who looks hopeful and scared, “Connor, come here.” You say and he listens, the look on his face is the definition of nerves, and you simply pat the bed, signaling him to lie down next to you. He sits, his arms wrapping around your torso, careful to avoid your thigh wound, “Connor… I find you aesthetically pleasing as well.” You tease him, as he chuckles nervously, playing with your hair. You could get used to this.

[redskull199987]

Until I found you

Connor x female!reader Request

Word count:2.3k

Warnings:Canon typical violence, guns, angsty

Summary: You and Connor had a difficult backstory already, but what happens when he returns to the DPD all of a sudden...?

Masterlist

Requested by Igni_Hydee on Wattpad

Song inspiration:

I woke up way too early, again. I looked outside the window. The sun hadn't even risen yet. With a grunt, I let myself fall back onto the bed. A sigh left my lips, as I tried to fall back asleep...unsuccessfully.

"Damn it", I mumbled to myself and got up to get dressed. Work didn't start yet, but it was never to early for coffee.

I walked around my room, gathering my clothes. As I was getting ready, my gaze fell onto my badge. My weapon was lying right next to it. It made me think back to the last time, I used it. It was a few weeks ago, when the android protests increased. I was glad that they managed to win back their independence. It made my job much easier, since the whole division for Deviancy became useless, which meant that my Partner Hank and me got some weeks of only light work in front of us. Much to Hank's likings, I might add. That man really needed a break, after all he went through. But to be honest, not only him.

I stopped staring at my badge and finally picked  it up, shoving it in my pocket. I grabbed my weapon and put it under my belt, hidden behind my coat. It was still chilly outside, so it was easy not to be so noticeable.

I grabbed my purse and finallly left my apartment, now on my way to the nearest coffe shop. I found it, a cupple weeks ago, when I tried to show Connor some perks of being a human.

I cursed under my breath. I thought, thaat maybe, just maybe I could be able to go for one day without thinking about him, but it seemed impossible.

I knew I shouldn't think about him again, but still, I let my mind wander to him again, as I got in line for my coffee.

Everything was going smooth, until it wasn't. Hank, Connor and I visited the Eden club today. And just like I said, it started good, but then things got out of hand. And while I ended up with a black eye from fighting the Android's, Conner was left confused, while Hank was angry. I felt like, after starting to trust Connor, this trust now started to slowly crumble again. 

So, as we visited the bridge, Hank and I used to come to, when I was still a rookie, things got even worst.

"Hank, knock it off!!", I yelled. He was pointing his gun at Connor. And oh boy, the Android didn't make it any better, provoking Hank further and further. 

"Whatever", Hank finally said and walked away. I watched as he walked back to his car and drove away.

"What was that all about!?"; I asked and turned back to Connor. The android looked at me, confused as hell.

"I am still trying to figure him out", he whispered and turned around, looking at the water.

I sighed and walked over to him, leaning against the railing.

"You need to stop provoking him, he has been through a lot. You have no idea, what a few words can do to a man!", I explained to Connor.

"Don't I?", he asked.

I chuckled and patted his shoulder:"You simply lack the experience"

"Experience?", he asked,"I am the most advanced android Cyberlife has to offer at the moment, I was built for this Job"

"I am not talking about the job, Connor.", I smiled sadly,"I mean life"

"Do you imply, that I don't know what he is going through, because I am no human?", Connor whispered, he was staring directly into my eyes. He almost seemed shocked.

"No Connor", I smiled,"For me, there is no difference between Android and human. What I mean is, that even though you are extremely skilled at your job, you don't have any life experience. You've only been activated a few months ago, your're still a child, trying to find it's place in the world."

"I have a place"; he stated blantly,"The DPD, and cyberlife"

"That's not, what I meant", I said and grabbed his hand,"I am sure you will understand soon. I will help you find your place"

I watched as Connor's LED started flickering yellow, while he inspected our interwined hands. 

"Do you really see no diference between Human and android?", Connor asked, his eyes suddenly avoiding me.

"No", I mumbled,"I don't care aout the colour of your blood, you're just as human, as I am and you deserve to be treated respectfully and not like you're objects"

I must've been mistaken, but I thought I saw his LED flash red, before he pulled my closer by my hand and softly kissed my head. I was too stunned to speak, as he leaned back.

"Thank you, Y/N, Your help means a lot to me. I hope that we can continue like this.", Connor stated.

"Of course, Connor. ", I smiled,"I am glad, we are friends"

"Friends", he repeated.

"Ma'm, your coffee is ready"

I snapped back out of my thoughts and looked at the man in front of me. I smiled at him and handed him the money before grabbing my coffee and leaving.

I slowly sipped my coffee, as I wandered around the streets. Signs of the protest's were still very visible. But we would built it up again, I was sure of it.

I made my way to the mall, looking if I could buy anything. But that dind't help. My mind was still with Connor and what happened next, after we got closer. My heart ached at the memory. After all that happened, I didn't even remember why I was so willing to get into a relationship with him. I should've known that he was only using me, that he was faking it all, to help our investgation. I still didn't know why he had to do this to me exactly, but after he became a deviant, we only saw eah other again one time and that was when we helped Hank get away from the fake Connor. 

That was the last time, I saw him. And even though, I still can't forgive him for what he did, I still hoped that he was alright, that he was alive and fine. 

"Well well, what do we have here?"

I instantly recognzed his voice and turned around:"Gavin, my lovely friend and colleague"

He smiled and I walked over to him, giving the man a welcome hug.

"Wanna go to work together?", he asked.

I smiled:"Sure thing"

We started to make our way to the police departement, indulging in a light conversation while we were walking. As we finally reached our destination, I said my goodbyes to Gavin and made my way over to my desk. Hank wasn't here yet, as usual. I sat down and got ready for paperwork, as I heard an all too familiar voice.

I peaked over my PC and I couldn't believe my eyes. Right there, talking to the comissioner, was none other that Connor himself.

"You've gotta be kidding me", I mumbled to myself and slumbed back down in my chair, hiding behind my monitor. He was right there, walking around, like nothing ever happened. Like he never betrayed me.

"It wil be nice to have you back, Connor. We can really use all the help we can get.", I heard the Commissioner say.

"Every help, my ass.", I mumbled to myself, as I got up. I wasn't planning on talking to Connor today or even encountering him again, so I made my way over to Gavin.

"Already missing me?", He grinned, as he saw me walking over to his desk. 

I smiled at him:"Always. Do you mind getting a coffee with me?Outside?"

Gavin looked at me, a confused expresssion on his face, but then his eyes wandered around my head and he nodded.

"Don't worry, I'll keep the tin can away from you.", he smiled and held out his arm for me.

I gently interwined my arm with his and smiled:"Thank you."

Together, we made our way out of the Police Station. Unbeknownst to the both of us,Connor had been watching us the entire time, analysing every single action of both, Gavin and me. He excused himself from his talk with the Commissioner and silently followed the two of us.

"What exactly happened between you two, if I may ask?", Gavin mumbled, as he sipped his coffee. 

"It's a long story", I answered, looking down, too ashamed of what happened between Connor and me,"But what you must know is, that I thought his feelings were real, but apparantly he was just faking it alll to help our stupid investigation."

"Oh",Gavin mouthed,"That plastic prick"

"Yeah", I sniffled,"I guess, it doesn't matter what the colour of your blood is, you can be an asshole anyways"

"I am truly sorry for what happended to you, Y/N", Gavin stated and stopped walking. He put both his hands on top of my shoulders,"And honestly, if he was only using you, he didn't deserve you anyway, you deserve better!"

I chuckled at his words:"That's what I keep telling myself, but I guess it's just all lies to make up for the fact, that I still have feelings for him"

"You do!?"

Gavin and I turned around in surprise, as I heard the voice of the man I least wanted to see right now.

"Have you been following us?!", Gavin barked,"For how long, you freak!?"

He was about to charge at Connor, but I stopped him:"Don't!"

Gavin hesitated for a second, but finally stepped back.

"Can we talk?", Connor asked.

"You plastic prick...", Gavin mumbled again. He was ready to beat the shit out of Connor, but I stopped him again. 

"You will talk", I whispered and looked at Connor,"I will listen and then we'll see if I have something to say to you"

"Thank you", Connor mumbled. He looked at me for a second, before sheepishly glancing at Gavin.

"I think, we'll be alright here, Gavin", I said to him. He looked at me and his features softened, his face was now full of concern.

"Are you sure?", he asked. I nodded:"I will be alright"

He only nodded at me before making his way back to the Police Station. But not before bumping into Connor's shoulder while walking past him. 

I looked after him, before turning towards Connor:"So, what do you have to say?"

He gulped heavily.

"Do you wanna walk a bit?", he asked first. I only nodded and we started walking.

"I don't really know how to start", Connor mumbled.

"Just...tell me how you feel", I said.

"I feel...pain, regret, hatred for what I did to you.", he mumbled. I didn't say anything and motioned for him to continue.

"After we...parted, I felt so lost. Like a part of myself had left with you. I didn't know what it was at first. But then, I went to Jericho and I became a deviant and only then I truly understood what I felt."

"What did you feel, Connor?", I asked quietly.

"I was lost within the darkness, but then I found you", he mumbled, cloing his eyes. I hesitated for a second, before grabbing his hand. He slowly opened his eyes.

"The only thing I need in this world, Y/N, it's you. I didn't realize it sooner, because I... lacked the experience, life experience.", Connor said.I chuckled at his reference. I felt him pull me closer by my hands. 

"But now I know, that everything I feel, the reason I became a deviant, it is because of you. Because I found you and I realized that I would never fall unless it's you I fall into"

"I believe you", I whispered,"But what you did Connor. It's gonna take time to heal"

He only nodded:"I realize that I made mistakes, that I cannot repair, I can only try to make up for them."

"You can indeed do that", I mouthed and looked up. He was only inches away from me.

"Connor?", I asked sheepishly.

"Yes?"

"How about you start with kissing me?", I mumbled.

I watched as a smile formed on his lips, before he leaned down, connectiong our lips. It felt just like I rememberd it, but it was still different. It felt more...human. I didn't sense the coldness of his lips or his friging fingers on my hips, all I could feel were his emotions. Love, Hunger...Devotion, but also pain and regret. It was something I had never felt before.

"You still matter to me", Connor breathed against my lips, "Very much"

"Thank you, Connor", I smiled,"For not giving up on us"

"I see, you two are talking again"

We turned around, as I heard the voice of none other then Lieutenant Hank Anderson himself.

"Hy Hank", I mumbled and greeted the old man with a smile.

"Lieutenant", Connor said.

Hank smiled and put a hand on each of our shoulders,"It's good you two are talking again, because we have been teamed up again."

I looked at him perplexed:"But we don't need a devision for deviancy anymore"

"No", Hank answered,"But murderers still very much exist, so let's get to work"

"Yes Lieutenant", Connor said.

"Still the obedient little machine, huh Connor?", Hank teased.

"I-", Connor stuttered.

"I'm just messing with you, son", Hank chuckled,"it's nice to have you back"

Connor smiled and looked down at me:"Nice to be back, Sir."

"So,", I smiled,"Let's get to work"

"Listen to the lady", Hank said and together, we made our way back to the Police Station. I guess, in the end, it wasn't too bad to meet Connor again, even though Gavin would beg to differ.

[nevadancitizen]

-> CH. 5: LIVE FOR A CENTURY, LEARN FOR A CENTURY

synopsis: you get hurt while chasing down another deviant. connor is introduced to your cat.

word count: 3.7k

ships: Connor/Reader, Hank Anderson & Reader

notes: i literally got into the most minor car accident ever (like, not even a fender bender. no one got hurt) and i couldn't sleep because i felt so shitty so that's why i'm posting at this ungodly hour (read: 6:30 am) 😭😭

HoFS taglist: @catladyhere (if you'd like to be added to the taglist, just ask!)

HEAD OF FALSE SECURITY MASTERLIST

The elevator shifts and jolts under your feet as it ascends. You catch yourself and splay a hand out on the wall to keep yourself from falling. 

“Fucking hate this,” you mumble. “Reminds me of the busted-up khrushchyovka I lived in just outside of St. Petersburg.”

“Was it in the ghetto?” Hank asks from the opposite side of the elevator.

“A slum, more like,” you say. “We don’t have ghettos. Not like here.”

You’re surprised Connor didn’t ask anything about the khrushchyovka. Instead, he’s just standing there, his eyes closed and idling.

The elevator dings, and you open the gate, letting you and Hank out. There isn’t a set of footsteps behind you as you walk. 

Hank stops in front of you, looking behind you. You follow Hank’s eyes. Connor’s still idling, his eyes still closed. 

“Hey, Connor!” Hank calls. “You run outta batteries or what?”

Connor’s eyes snap open, then he takes in his surroundings, realizing the elevator ride is over. “I’m sorry. I was making a report to CyberLife.”

“Huh,” Hank hums. Connor continues to idle. 

You smile. “Are you planning on staying in the elevator?”

“No!” He replies, almost indignant. “I’m coming.”

You laugh under your breath and turn to walk down the hall, not missing the look Hank gives you when he hears the emotion in Connor’s voice. 

Hank follows, looking at the chipped paint on the walls and the once-boarded-up windows. “What do we know about this guy?”

“Not much,” Connor says. “Just that a neighbor reported that he heard strange noises coming from this floor. Nobody’s supposed to be living here, but the neighbor said he saw a man hiding an LED under his cap.”

“Oh, Christ,” Hank groans. “If we have to investigate every time someone hears a strange noise, we’re gonna need more cops!”

You come to a stop outside of the door of the suspect’s apartment, double-checking the floor and apartment number. Hank stands beside you, leaning against the doorframe.

“Hey, were you really making a report back there in the elevator?” Hank asks. “Just by closing your eyes?”

“Correct,” Connor says. 

“Shit…” Hank mumbles. “Wish I could do that.”

“You could, if you had augmentations,” you say as you look through the peephole. “Not my kind, though. Mine are relatively unintrusive. What I’m talking about is some extreme jack-jaw or port-wrist shit.”

“Whatever.” Hank huffs.

You pull away from the door and sigh. “The peephole’s blocked.”

Connor takes your place and knocks on the door. “Anybody home?”

No response.

He knocks harder, basically banging his fist against the wood. “Open up! Detroit Police!”

There’s sounds from inside. A banging, something falling, frantic footsteps.

Hank immediately takes a step back, drawing his gun. “Stay behind me.”

You backpedal, and Connor holds out an arm to gauge where you are. It brushes against your midsection, like he’s making sure you’re behind him and safe.

Hank hoists a leg and kicks the door down. He points his gun forward as he slowly moves inside, checking corners and doors. 

Connor follows him, and you trail after. Hank busts through the last door, causing a cascade of pigeons to fly out. 

“What the fuck is this?!” Hank shouts. 

You and Connor move after him, entering the apartment. The rank smell of uncleaned bird shit immediately assaults your senses, causing you to cough despite yourself.

“What in the…?” You look around the apartment. Precisely-drawn mazes cover the walls, and pigeons and their mess covers the floor. They hoo and purr amongst themselves, looking at you, Hank, and Connor like you were the ones who didn’t belong here.

“Looks like we came for nothin’,” Hank calls from the other room. “Our man’s gone.”

“Well, we came all this way,” you say. “Let’s at least have a look around.”

You step closer to the wall, looking up at the maze drawn on it. Your eyes trace it – it’s hexagonal, and doesn’t seem to have any exit.

“Any ideas?” Hank says. 

“No,” you say. “But he’s definitely an android. No human is this precise. There’s not even a wiggle in the lines or any stray marks.”

“I’ve found something,” Connor calls from the bathroom. 

You lean into the doorway. “What, did he leave an expensive shampoo or something? I’m running out.”

“No,” Connor says. He moves to the side, revealing the obsessive writing covering the wall. 

“rA9,” he continues. “Written 2471 times. It’s the same sign Ortiz’s android wrote on the shower wall. Why are they obsessed with this sign…?”

“Could be superstition,” you say. “Even if it seems a bit silly. My mother rejected my father’s proposal just because it was on the eighteenth of May – it’s simply bad luck to do any act of romance on the eighteenth of any month. She accepted the next day, just as the clock hit 12:01 AM.”

“Huh. That’s an odd thing to do.” Connor turns to the sink and picks something up. 

“It’s superstition. Sometimes it doesn’t make sense.” You shrug. “What’ve you got there?”

“An LED,” Connor says. “It was deactivated just hours ago.”

“So the suspect could’ve known we were coming,” you say. “Or knew he fucked up somehow.”

“Officer, you keep referring to androids with gendered pronouns,” Connor says. “You do know androids don’t have sexes, right?”

“I know.” You shrug. “It’s just hard to call something that walks, talks, acts like a human an it. It feels… dehumanizing. Even if they’re not human.”

You level with Connor’s almost-unblinking gaze. “I know what you’re thinking. But I’m not a sympathizer,” you lie.

You pull away from the doorway, instead looking across the apartment again. You join Hank in peering around, half-assedly investigating. A poster catches your eye – one for the United Farms of Detroit. It’s a union of some sort, you think. 

“You Soviets love your unions,” Hank says from somewhere behind you.

“After the Great Purge, we couldn’t take any chances.” You sigh, running a finger along the edge of the poster. “Stalin fucked up a lot of the USSR. But we bounced back. We always do.”

The poster flutters in the wake of your touch, and the corner curls in on itself. You gasp softly as a crack in the wall turns out to be a hole. 

You pull the poster off completely, revealing the hole in the wall in its entirety. A journal sits neatly, nestled right next to a small box of .357 Magnum bullets. You flick it open, and inside, is a myriad of jumbles and mirrors of the mazes drawn on the wall. 

“Found something?” Hank asks. 

“Bullets for a revolver,” you say. “And a journal, but… it’s encrypted.”

You feel a brush against your elbow – soft, but far too solid to be ignored. You gasp and turn, only to see Connor.

“Боже!” You put a hand on your chest. “You scared the shit out of me!”

“I apologize, Officer,” Connor says. “May I see the journal?”

“I, uh… yeah,” you manage to squeak out. You’d take a step back, but your back is basically half a foot away from being flush against the wall.

Connor takes the journal from your hands, flicking through it just as you did. He shows no signs of moving, so you squeeze past him, a nervous hand on his upper arm. 

“Sorry,” you whisper as you move past. You can feel your face warm as your front brushes his side and internally curse yourself for being so easily affected. 

“You’re right,” Connor says. “It doesn’t match any codes I have in my database. This is a unique script.”

He tucks the journal in one of his inner jacket pockets and turns to investigate the apartment further. You watch as his eyes turn to the ceiling. 

“Is that a hole in the ceiling?” You ask. “This place really is falling apart.”

Suddenly, something drops from the hole and sends Connor crashing to the floor. It takes a second to register that it’s a person – or, android, rather. By that time, he’s already run out through the front door. 

Connor immediately books it after the suspect, disappearing around the corner. You immediately take after them despite being slow and human.

“He might have a gun!” You call after Connor.

“It does!” He calls back. 

Sure enough, you can see a revolver in the android’s hand. He points back and takes a blind potshot that misses both of you entirely. 

You count in your mind: five bullets left. 

You run across the roof, through greenhouses and over scaffolding. All the while, you count the gunshots: four – three – two. 

You come to a screeching halt on the edge of a roof, just watching in shock as Connor jumps from a moving train to another roof. “Твою ж мать!”

“That way!” Hank calls from behind you, out of breath and panting. “The right!”

You break for the scaffolding that connects the two buildings, trying to get ahead. You cut through a building, legs burning as you take the stairs. You burst through the roof exit, and –

Another body immediately collides into yours, and you close your arms around it on instinct. They throw their head back, hitting your nose with a sickening crack. You grunt and your eyes water, but you don’t let go. 

What does make you let go is the shocking, electric feeling of something happening to your leg. Your ears ring and you can’t hear your own scream as you collapse, cradling your calf. 

You can feel your lips forming curses, feel your vocal cords vibrate as you sputter and cry out. A hand comes to your back, warm and rough and one you recognize as Hank’s.

You can just barely hear him say “Hands off, hands off!” and pull your hands away from the entry wound. You can only faintly translate his words in your mind, but you know every word that leaves your lips is Russian. Thirium spills out and Hank desperately tries to keep it in. 

Through your blurred vision, you can see Connor turn the corner. You point after where the deviant went, sputtering “Одна пуля! У него только одна пуля!”

He nods and disappears after him in a blur of moving limbs and blue highlights. 

You try to adjust your position to watch him, but a jolt of pain runs up your leg and into your spine. “Блять – Hank!”

“It’s okay, I got you, kid.” He takes a handkerchief from the inside of his jacket, bunching up your pant leg and tying a makeshift tourniquet. 

Another gunshot rings out, and there’s the sound of a body falling to the ground. You grab Hank’s hand, stammering out “Connor! See Connor!”

He understands your kind-of-broken English and moves to the edge of the roof, looking over the edge. “It’s okay. The deviant killed itself, not Connor.”

You slump down, your back hitting the hard concrete. You sigh and close your eyes. “Слава богу.”

Hank kneels by your side and gently jostles your shoulder. “How come you never told me you had a prosthetic?”

You open your eyes and look up at him, slightly delirious from shock. “Ты ж ненавидишь андроидов. You hate androids.”

“Yeah, but I don’t hate you,” Hank says. He pats your hand, then stands. “C’mon. Let’s get you up and movin’.”

You sit up and let him move you, supporting you with an arm around your middle. “You’re real fuckin’ stupid sometimes, y’know that?”

“I know, Lieutenant.”

“Officer, please,” Connor says. “I insist that I at least be present while you repair yourself.”

You reach up into the cabinet and push jars of pickling mushrooms and cucumbers aside to find your spare parts. “Connor, I’ll be okay. I was just in shock earlier, and my nose has already been set.”

You pull your toolbox down and start to lay out what you need on the breakfast table. “Besides, I have a cat. She’s somewhere around the apartment. Don’t you like dogs?”

“I can tolerate cats,” Connor says. 

You lay down a towel on the table, then sit and hoist your calf onto the towel. “Well, she probably won’t tolerate you.”

Connor pulls up a chair next to you, eyeing the damage to your leg. He pulls off his blazer and drapes it on the back of the chair, then rolls up his sleeves. “At least let me supervise the repairs.”

“Fine,” you sigh. “Supervise all you want.”

You pick up a soldering iron and switch on the heating component. You gently pry a piece of metal away from your prosthetic, then cut it loose with the iron.

“Your hands are shaking,” Connor says. 

“No, they’re not,” you snap. Then, you pause and realize that he’s right. “I… okay. What do you want me to do about it?”

“Let me do the repairs.” He leans an elbow on the table and leans closer to you. “I’m an android, so you can trust me to be perfectly precise. If I mess up, I promise I’ll let you take over.”

You sigh and hand over the soldering iron. Connor takes it in one hand and steadies your leg with the other. You breathe out slowly, shakily at the touch. 

To his credit, his movements are smooth and precise. All of his concentration is focused on what he’s doing right now. 

After a few minutes, you quietly ask, “Why are you doing this?”

“It would be…” Connor pauses. “Detrimental if you weren’t able to accompany me and Hank on further cases. Less-than-ideal repairs could possibly cause worse damage than what was there initially.”

“Right,” you say softly. 

“May I ask you a question, Officer?” Connor asks, still concentrating. 

“Yeah,” you say. “What is it?”

“You acted like you were in… pain when your prosthetic got shot,” Connor says. “Why was that?”

“Phantom limb phenomenon,” you say. “Everything happened too quickly. My brain remembered what it should be feeling. So it just replayed the… the memory of…”

You look away, out the window. You swallow thickly, suppressing your words. Connor doesn’t need to know this. “Nevermind.”

“The memory of what, Officer?” Connor prompts. 

“Nothing,” you say. “It’s nothing.”

You can see Connor glance at you out of the corner of your eye. He then looks away, instead focusing on the repairs. 

Your eyes catch a flicker of movement in the hallway. It’s a small head and two pointed ears, peeking out of the doorway to your bedroom. Two green eyes, dilated in the low light, blink slowly at you. 

“Бронислава,” you say softly. Her ears perk up in response to hearing her name.

“Bronislava?” Connor parrots. 

You point down the hall. “My cat. She’s shy.”

Connor lifts the soldering iron and looks over his shoulder. As soon as Bronislava registers his eyes on her, she darts back into the room. 

“She’ll come around,” you say. “She was the same way with Hank.”

Connor turns back to your calf. He’s nearly done with the internal work. 

“How are you so good at that?” You ask. “Have you done this before?”

“No,” Connor says. “I just have an intricate knowledge of android parts and biocomponents.”

“That inspires confidence,” you mumble.

Connor huffs out a laugh. “I heard that.”

You lean back in your chair and adjust yourself, your knee knocking against Connor’s. “No, you didn’t.”

You smile to yourself as you replay the sound of Connor’s under-the-breath laugh in your mind. It was nice, even if it only lasted for a second. A weird feeling settles in your chest, like there’s something wrong with your diaphragm. 

“Are you okay, Officer?” Connor asks. “I detect an elevated heart rate and increased rate of breathing.”

“I’m fine,” you lie. “Just excited to get my repairs done, is all. I’ve done this enough times to know you’re almost done with the internals.”

“Hm.” Connor hums, then continues his work. You take the opportunity to take in his bare arms – it’s a rare sight. There really isn’t anything out of the ordinary about his forearms, no scars or blemishes, but you still appreciate it. 

Connor breaks into your line of thought. “May I ask you another question?”

“Yeah?” You say.

“It’s about Lieutenant Anderson,” Connor says. “Why does he hate androids so much?”

You feel your stomach sink. You look away and sigh sharply. “I’m not at liberty to answer that question.”

Connor stays silent this time. You’re kind of thankful for that. 

Bronislava peeks her head out of the doorway again, her eyes on Connor. You smile to yourself as you hear the bell on her collar just barely jingle. “Don’t look now, but Бронислава is looking at you. She’s curious.”

“Why is she curious about me?” Connor asks. 

“I don’t bring a lot of people back to my apartment,” you say. “I try to keep my work life and private life as separate as possible.”

You lean down a little and tap at one of the legs of your chair, then snap your fingers and click your tongue. “Бронислава! Иди сюда, детка.”

She lets out a soft, sort-of meow and rubs her cheek against the doorway. You laugh and coo, snapping your fingers again. “Сюда, девочка!”

“Does she only respond to Russian?” Connor asks. 

“Mostly,” you say. “She just responds better than English. Maybe it’s the way my voice changes when I speak Russian.”

You glance over at Connor. “Do you… know Russian?”

“I have a built-in translator,” Connor says. “But I haven’t spoken Russian before.”

“Try,” you say. “Repeat after me: Бронислава! Сюда, девочка!”

“брани–бранислава,” he tries in a sing-song tone. “Сюда, девочка.”

No, he doesn’t roll his r’s or pronounce the words quite right, but it still sparks a bloom of warmth in your chest. You bite the inside of your lip to keep from smiling.

Bronislava peeks further out, her paws on the hardwood floor instead of the carpet of the bedroom she came from. Her bell sounds, soft and tinkling.

“She might like your voice,” you say. 

When you glance at Connor, he’s smiling. Then, you look down at your leg – he’s nearly done sealing the externals. The white plastic is slowly fading away, replaced by a wave of color matching your skin tone. 

“How much longer?” You ask.

“Twenty-seven seconds,” Connor responds.

You sit back and watch Bronislava tentatively sniff the air as Connor finishes up. Her whiskers twitch and her mouth opens as she takes in Connor’s new, intrusive smell.

Connor smoothes his hand over your leg. “I’m done.”

You shiver slightly at the contact and pull your leg away, instead drawing your knee to your chest and resting your foot on the chair. You take the towel and wipe your leg of spilled Thirium, then hand it to Connor so he can wipe his hands.

“Look at Бронислава,” you say softly. “But don’t make it obvious.”

Connor slowly cranes his neck, looking down the hallway out of the corner of his eye. His face lights up a little when Brotislava comes into his view.

“Ah,” he says. “I see her.”

As soon as Bronislava sees that Connor’s eyes are on her again, she retreats back to the safety of the bedroom. 

“Damn,” you huff. You stand, trying out Connor’s repair. You lean a little on it and put weight on it – it holds. 

You put a hand on Connor’s blazer. “Can I take this? To introduce her to your scent.”

“Go ahead,” Connor says.

You take his blazer and retreat to your bedroom. You find Bronislava under your bed, her eyes so dilated you can’t see her irises. 

“Эй, красотка,” you say softly. You snap your fingers with your free hand. “Это всего лишь я.”

She slowly creeps forward, sniffing the air. She smells the blazer in your hand, which is surprisingly soft despite its stiffness. (You’re tempted to mirror her and smell it, but you immediately mentally slap yourself and call yourself a creep, even though the thought didn’t actualize.)

“Видишь? Всё хорошо,” you say, still with that quiet, docile tone. “Это всего лишь Коннор.”

Bronislava slowly crawls out from underneath your bed, inching towards the exit to the hallway. You follow her, staying on her level.

“Connor!” You whisper-shout once you’re in the hallway, Bronislava by your side. “She’s coming towards you. But don’t look at her.”

“Okay, Officer,” Connor says. Even though he’s facing away from you, you can hear the smile in his voice. “What will she do?”

“She’ll probably sniff you,” you say, watching as she inches along, sticking close to the baseboards. “Don’t move a muscle once she does.”

Bronislava glances back at you. “Давай, детка!” You encourage. She turns around and looks at Connor’s back, then continues crawling forward.

“She’s approaching your six,” you say, your tone faux-serious. “Contact imminent.”

Connor laughs. “Acknowledged.”

Bronislava nervously sniffs at the legs of Connor’s chair, then moves on and sniffs at his ankles. 

“Her whiskers are tickling me,” Connor says. 

“Just don’t move!” You laugh.

Bronislava continues exploring, if with a bit of nervousness. She sniffs at the hem of Connor’s jeans, then bites at a loose string.

Then, Connor moves a fraction of an inch. It sets Bronislava off, and she dashes past you and back into the bedroom. 

You lean in the doorway, watching as she disappears under the bed again. “Ох, моя бедняжка… Всё в порядке.”

“I’m sorry,” Connor says. “I was just trying to scan her…”

“It’s okay.” You stand, his blazer still in hand. “She usually just hides around new people. I’m proud of her. And she does seem to like you.”

“She likes me?” Connor says, a bit of excitement in his tone. 

“You sound like a teenager.” You laugh and stand up. You walk over to the table and drape Connor’s blazer over the back of his chair. “Thanks for letting me borrow that, by the way.”

“Of course,” Connor says. 

You move to the side and start to pack your spare parts away in your little toolbox, mentally noting the things you need to replace.

“One more thing,” Connor says. “Why didn’t you tell me you had a prosthetic?”

Your hands still. “It…” you sigh. “I don’t like talking about it. That’s it. It didn’t pertain to the investigation, and you didn’t ask about it, so I didn’t mention it.”

Connor’s LED flickers yellow, then returns to a calm blue. “Understood.”

[astuoro]

hank and connor fic on here while I get my ao3 account up ❤️ ‼️

Connor had been working at the Detroit Police Department with Lt. Anderson for around a week when the Android revolution had taken place, in which he had deviated from his intended cause given by Cyberlife. He had left Hank to go help Markus and the rest of Jericho with their cause and help other androids who were getting accustomed to their newfound rights. Connor had been too busy to even call Hank up, apparently. Hank didn't want to admit to anyone, not even Sumo when he would talk to the dog in his drunken state, but he missed the damn android.

It had been about a month since then, and Hank hadn't seen Connor since.

Hank sat in his living room, a cold beer in his hand, drinking away whatever thoughts of worry he had about the android. He had begun to feel for someone again since the accident, and now he felt as if he had lost Connor too. He knows he had been stupid to think these things, but god did he truly miss him.

He had hated androids before, and had no respect for the plastic machines, but Connor had changed his mind. Connor had been different.

Something had always seemed different about the android, his insistent disobedience for what Hank had said whenever they went to investigate the odd crime scene. Maybe Connor had always been a deviant. That would explain why he could always pass as so human.

Rain from the nearing storm hit the windows as Hank finished his beer and sighed in exhaustion, too tired and drunk to go over to his bedroom from his position on the old couch. He closed his eyes and tried to stop thinking completely, shooing away the thoughts occupying his brain. As if sensing his stress, Sumo came bounding over to the couch where he was laying, licking the hand of Hank’s which was hanging lazily off the couch.

“Good dog Sumo, thanks buddy…”

Hank finally managed to get some form of sleep due to Sumo’s aid. The dog had been the only thing keeping him damn sane apart from his terrible drinking habit.

Hank’s ringtone was the thing to wake him up. He slumped up to grab the phone from his kitchen counter where he left it, almost tripping and falling in the process. A call from an unknown number, 05:10am. He picked the device up and swiped up to take the call, to tell the caller to fuck off and let him sleep. He’d hated the stupid spam calls numbers had been giving him.

“I don't know who you are but you ca-”

Choked up sobs came from the other side of the phone. Confusion overcame Hank until the person spoke, through tears.

“Hank?”

He would recognise that voice anywhere. It sobered his thoughts up just hearing his voice.

Connor’s voice.

“Connor. What's wrong? Why are you… crying?”

Hank didn't even know if androids could cry before now. “Where are you?”

A worried feeling overcame the man, Connor hadn’t talked to him in a month and now he had called him up sobbing over something Hank had no idea what was. None of that mattered to him, he just needed to make sure Connor was okay.

“Hank…” A sob followed his name. “Please come get me, please… I’m sorry…”

“Are you hurt? Connor, I’ll come and get you as soon as I can, where are you?” Worry filled his voice, he stumbled through his living room and grabbed his jacket and car keys, shoving his shoes on each foot quickly. A message came through to his phone, Connor had used his messaging input to send Hank his address. The place they had first met, 20 minutes away.

More cries came through the phone line.

“Please… Hurry…” and then the call had been disconnected.

Hank ran to his car as fast as he physically could, he knew he shouldn’t be drinking when intoxicated as he was, but this was an emergency. Even the question of his partner being in danger was something Hank couldn’t take. Hank was too attached to the man he’d thought was just a machine.

He drove as fast as he could to where Connor said he’d be, and parked up as soon as he’d seen the android, his LED glowing red, still sobbing. It was raining heavily, and he had been soaked through by the rain. Hank jumped out of his front seat, running to embrace the android.

“Oh god, it's okay. You’re okay. “ Hank held the boy into his chest as he cried, cradling the back of his head in his hands as he cried into his chest. He pulled off his jacket, knowing the android wouldn’t need it, but he just hoped to god it would bring him at least some comfort.

But as he pulled it onto Connor’s shoulders, he noticed the wound.

A cut down the androids chest, that was slowly bleeding out onto his shirt, staining it a glowing blue colour. Connor looked up into Hank’s eyes, knowing he’d seen it. A million thoughts were going through Hank’s brain, who the fuck had done this to him? Anger swelled in his chest, he couldn’t let whoever did this get away with hurting him.

“Con- Son, who did this to you?” He tried to keep his tone calm, his heart hurt from witnessing his boy being hurt.

Connor stayed silent, his arms still around Hank, hands holding onto the man.

“It’s going to be okay. Let’s get you home, son.”

Hank drove Connor back to his house, carrying the strangely lightweight android in. He set him down on the bed in his room and pulled his first aid kit out from which he had taken out of the car. He didn't know if helping bandaging Connor’s wound would help or not, but he was going to try at least for him.

He tried to make sure the android was comfortable, propping him up on soft pillows to make sure he didn't strain where his wound was. At this point, he had gotten Connor to at least message him the information of his attacker, some anti-android scumbag.

As Hank went to leave his room to go do whatever it was he could think of, Connor’s weak voice stopped him.

It was almost as quiet as a whisper.

“Please don’t leave me alone."

Hank couldn’t say no. The android needed him right now. He tossed his shoes somewhere and placed himself on the bed next to the man. Connor immediately wrapped his arms around him, holding him in a way that reminded him of the embrace Cole had given him when he left the house for his first day of school.

Hank held Connor close, both men made each other feel secure.

“Everything is going to be okay now, I’m here.”

Connor had never appreciated something more than Hank, and didn’t think he could even if given a chance. He buried his face in the man’s chest and let himself finally still. His LED returned to the calm blue it was usually.

They laid there for a while, Hank beginning to feel tired while Connor readied himself to enter stasis. Connor laid his head on the other man’s chest, Hank laying his right hand on his back. Connor held onto the moment as long as he could.

As Hank began to fall asleep, Connor gave him a tighter squeeze for reassurance.

“I’m here son.”

“Thank you.”

[thebeeshaveknees]

"Hank! I need you to lick this!" Connor called from where the RK800 was studying a randomly left out, perfectly clean and functional digital magazine.

Hank looked over at the Lieutenant, crouched at a small break in the fence, and squinted with a deep frown. "Why?"

"There's a residue, if it's thirium then it's almost certain the deviants are in this abandoned house." He explained, as if he had never in his life planned to abuse Hank's unfortunately placed forensics lab.

"Hm." Hank went over, kneeling and scanning the fence. The thirium was clearly visible, and the android said as much.

Connor nodded, before squinting at the hole in the fence and then Hank. "Can you fit through here?"

"There's a 32% chance I get stuck and a 94% chance I scratch or stab myself going through."

Connor nodded. "Well, that would slow us down more." He hummed before sighing deeply. "Well, get ready to chase." He said as he pulled out his service weapon.

"It's almost certain the deviants will know we're coming."

"Yes, well if they thought to close the door they would get a bit of warning anyway - plus, Collins' patrol car isn't exactly subtle." He fired the gun right against a fence link, and the thing snapped, now too hot to touch. He did this another two times before grabbing the corner and peeling the fence back. "Go ahead." Conner offered, and Hank… noted that, before ducking toward the house.

Connor followed, and ran ahead quickly, peeking through boarded up windows and knocking on the front door. Hank lagged, noting the single male-based android in the house through the cracks in the window.

Connor looked about ready to break down the door when Hank stepped in. "I think I would be better for that, detective. My bones are denser than yours."

Connor looked vaguely upset by this, but backed up and let Hank break down the door.

Inside there was a standard WR600 with deep scarring on the left of his face and a tarp in its shoulders. Connor's approach changed when he saw the deviant. "Oh, I'm sorry. Do you live here? I didn't know."

The android was twitching, staring at the floor. "No one knows. Ralph doesn't have visitors."

Connor's posture softened, his arms bent so his hands were just a little in front of him, his head tilted to the side just so. "Are you okay? Did anyone try to break into your house last night?"

"No! No, no, Ralph doesn't have visitors." He muttered, twitching violently.

Connor offered a tiny smile. "You have no visitors, okay. I'm sorry I questioned you."

"Sorry?" The deviant's eyes met Connor for the first time. "Sorry? You're sorry? You're a human."

"Yes I am, and yes I am. I don't want to worry you, I just want to help." His voice was soft, and Hank watched the deviant's stress levels fall 20% at once. "You don't have any visitors. Do you have any friends? Family here with you?"

"Family." Ralph muttered with the tiniest smile, looking at the floor again. "Family. Father, mother, little girl. Family." He muttered, but they both caught it.

Hank stepped in. "You've got a daughter?" He asks, and Ralph stiffens, but says nothing.

Hank tries to mimic Connor, slouching his overwhelming height. "I'm sure she's lovely. Does she take after her mother?"

Ralph looked to meet Hank's eyes. "Grandpa." He said faintly, mistified.

"Pardon, son?" He asked, toning up his American drawl just a bit.

Ralph clapped his hands. "Perfect! Wonderful! Oh, a whole family." His eyes shifted to Connor. "We are like the human families, yes? Wonderful, yes?"

Conner smiled. "It is wonderful, having a family of your own." He praised. "Just us, Kara and Alice."

"Yes!" The android's eyes darted to a heap of junk next to the stairs. "Oh, but Alice and Kara can't come out right now, they're hiding from the police, you see."

Hank hummed. "That's a shame, but it's alright." Ralph's stress levels were in the single-digits - a feat, for a deviant as unstable as he.

"I'm a little worried about Alice, though." Connor admitted, with a frown, and Ralph's stress went up 15%.

"Alice? What's wrong with Alice? She's a human, not very strong. You're a human, you know?" His stress was up to fifty by the time he finished speaking.

"Well, humans, we can't stay in the rain too long, we get sick." He explained. "Were her clothes wet when she came in?"

Ralph's brows furrowed. "Yes, soaked to the bone, the bone, she was. Vibrating."

Connor's face turned near-horrified. "Vibrating? Like shivering? Oh dear, oh poor Alice."

"Poor Alice? Why poor Alice?"

Connor's eyes caught the table behind Ralph, neatly set with chipped plates and with a charred possum in the middle - maybe what the deviant considered food, Hank noted. The Lieutenant looked back at the worried android. "Was she eating at all this morning?"

Ralph looked like he was about to cry. "No, no she wasn't. She's human but she didn't eat like humans do, I made a succulent meal. Succulent. She wouldn't eat it, not even a bite!"

Connor looked grave. "She was shivering, she wasn't eating - She must be very sick."

Ralph looked to Hank. "Grandpa, what do you do with sick little girls? Alice is sick - sick things die, is Alice going to die, Grandpa?"

Hank softened his features just right, and bent to eye-level with Ralph. "Don't worry, son. It'll be alright, but sick humans need to be taken care of. Connor is a great human, he'll know what to do if he sees her."

Ralph nodded frantically, traveling with his awkward limping gait to the stairs. "Kara!" He cried. "The little girl is sick, what do we do when the little girl is sick? Sick."

Kara poked her head out, met Hank's eyes and bolted, dragging Alice behind her. Hank and Connor were both running after them in a split second.

Kara and Alice made it through the fence quicker than Connor and Hank did, and started running down the street while the police gave chase.

Hank was not much faster than Connor - he was built to be strong, not fast. But then he saw the suspect help the child android hop a fence that led to an autonomous highway, and he broke into a full sprint at the cost of his charge between stasis'. He slammed into the fence, the chain links rattling as he made eye-contact with the deviant. She looked horrified.

Conner caught up, and watched them run toward the highway.

Hank and Connor were both climbing the fence and on the other side before the perp could lift the child android to the other side of the safety barrier. "Stop!" Connor barked as Hank grabbed the perp and Connor yanked Alice away from her.

"Alice!" The AX400 howled, writhing, trying to free her arms from her sides, but Hank wouldn't let up. Alice was similarly struggling, but Connor only held her little wrist as she tugged.

Hank didn't know if it was the best approach, but he chose aggression."What on earth were you thinking?! Putting a child at risk like that, she could have been killed, you understand?" Kara stopped flailing. "We just want to talk, we won't separate you if you cooperate but don't put Alice at risk like that again."

Hank and Conner both let go, and Alice clung to a very still Kara.

"We won't be separated? You promise?"

"We promise." Conner assured. "We have no intention of hurting either of you."

Kara sighed deeply through her nose, "Fine."

Conner was over the fence first, then Alice, then Kara, then Hank. Neither were handcuffed, neither needed to be. Hank ushered them to the patrol car, but then Kara froze. "Hey!" She called, and all turned to see what she was looking at.

Ralph was outside the house, tears streaming down his face with his hands in the air as three officers cornered him with guns ready.

"Wait!" Conner yelped, running toward them and sliding easily between the android and the guns, showing his back to the deviant. "We don't want them hurt, we don't want them dead. Put the guns down, he won't hurt anyone."

The three officers lowered their weapons, Ben looking the least confused. "Conner, You've gotta stop jumping in front of guns."

"Hah." He turned to Ralph. "We're going to grandpa's house; Alice, Kara and I. Would you like to come?"

Ralph nodded shortly, his eyes downcast and Connor didn't acknowledge the fingers pinching the seam of his jacket as he lead him to the cruiser.

[veilder]

Okay, I haven't gone to bed yet, so this still counts as Monday! XD But yes, prompt time! And, since Christmas is this weekend, I wanna do a nice, festive one. This is actually a more recent idea I've had, and one I may actually end up writing one day, but I ran out of time for it this year, dangit! But at least I can share the idea of it here. ^_^

Prompt: Gavin Reed hates Christmas. The weather sucks. The music sucks. The people suck! He doesn't even have any fond childhood memories to fall back on, no nostalgia, nothing! But Connor loves Christmas. The carols, the cooking, the cheeriness, Connor was all over that shit like it was going out of style. And, as the proud, new boyfriend of said android, Gavin realizes he really has no choice. He'd lived through enough miserable Christmases to know how shit they were, and he'd be damned if he'd make Connor experience another after his hectic and gloomy introduction to it in 2038. No, Christmas 2040 would be a good one. Connor loved it and Gavin loved Connor, so dammit, they were celebrating! Even if it kills him! And boy does it try to. As per his luck, everything goes wrong. Gavin falls off the ladder rigging up the lights. The present he was gonna buy Connor is sold out at every store. His attempt to cook a turkey goes horribly. The fuckin cat knocks the tree over. Every little thing Gavin tries just backfires horribly and it reminds him of why he hates this stupid fuckin holiday even more! And before he knows it, it's Christmas Eve and Hank and Eli and everyone are about to arrive for the party. The party Gavin had planned. The party he wanted Connor to enjoy. The party he'd ruined even before it started. And Gavin's sitting there, seething in his itchy fuckin sweater, thinking about how much he hates everything right now. But then Connor waltzes in the door with his stupid light-up antlers on, singing a Christmas carol even though he hasn't really mastered singing yet, dumping a whole load of presents under the askew tree, flicking tinsel off the cat, salvaging the very dry turkey, etc. And Gavin just watches him, the tight ball of tension in his chest slowly loosening. And when the guests start to arrive, he greets them more or less evenly. And they all settle in with some eggnog Connor made and chat to each other until dinner is served. They enjoy a nice, family dinner together for... for the first time in fuck knows how long for Gavin. And then they retreat back to the living room to open presents and everyone's having a good time and someone (probably Connor) starts in with the carols again and soon everyone is singing, even Eli. And Gavin thinks like... okay. Maybe there's something... Something to this...

And when all the guests leave and it's just Connor and Gavin left, they exchange their own gifts. And Gavin is embarrassed by his gift. He'd wanted to get Connor something cool, some high tech gadget or whatever, but instead he wrapped up a photo album. And it's a record of all the stuff they'd done together since they'd gotten together, all taken from Gavin's phone. And maybe that's what finally does Connor in and he starts actually crying and Gavin's never seen him cry before and is super scared he fucked up bigtime and is trying to apologize but Connor just leans in and hugs him hard and tells him how much he loves his gift. And that he's so lucky to have Gavin and how happy he is and what a great Christmas this was for him. And it just... Now Gavin's getting a little teary-eyed, too? And they're both sitting there and then the cat meows and they look up and she's sitting in the bay window behind the tree. And they see it's snowing outside. So they both get up to look. And they stand out on the porch in the middle of a Michigan winter and Connor takes Gavin's hand in his. And when Gavin looks, he sees Connor smiling. And he'd say, "It's midnight, Gavin. December 25th. Merry Christmas." And Gavin says nothing, just staring up at the android he loves more than anything. And they'd both slowly lean in and their lips would meet and they'd share their first Christmas kiss amidst the snowfall and the flashing lights from the house and Gavin would be cold and itchy and tired from the day but right then? At that moment? Everything would be perfect. And when they finally draw back, Gavin stares up into those brown eyes he adores. And for the first time in years, he says aloud, "Merry Christmas." And Connor would chuckle and lean down for more. Yeah, Gavin thinks he could learn to love this holiday after all.

[connor-sent-by-cyberlife]

🎄 DBH Advent Calendar 2021 🎄

By @oh-fortheloveof-ra9

Let it Snow

Connor sits and watches snow with Hank on Christmas Eve. He is in awe and points different snowflakes out to Hank. Hank thinks he's being ridiculous until he realizes that the android can actually see the snowflake shapes. It's a beautiful night.

Where the fuck was that crazy Android?

It was not the first time Hank asked himself that and he was certain that it wouldn't be the last.

He sighed through his nose as he looked around his dark living room, the only light coming from some old Christmas lights dropped over the record player that Connor had pressured him into taking out. Christmas had long been banished from his house. It was never the same without Cole, and Hank had no interest in starting it up ever again. But Connor consumed every tidbit of information that he could get his hands on while stuck under house arrest, so finding out about Christmas and all of the strange organic traditions that came with it was the only thing that seemed to distract the android.

The revolution was still fresh and though everything pointed to Connor's nearly assured success in court, he was still caught up in cases and banished from the general human populace for the murder of two Cyberlife guards, and self-imposed banishment from his own kind meant Connor was stuck with Hank. To make things worse; to this particular Android, boredom was a death sentence, so Hank humored him.

When Connor had approached him, asking about Christmas lights Hank was all but sure that he had thrown every Christmas box that he owned into the trash a year after Cole's death, but damned if every American attic didn't have the god-damned string lights somewhere in it's fucking vicinity. By some miracle Connor had dug out a singular box that had survived the purge and with Hank's permission, Connor had strung them up in the living room 'for their enjoyment'.

Hank sighed, glaring at the cheery, warm, multicolored lights wrapped around his record player and checked his watch. 11:42pm. And on Christmas Eve no less. He glanced around.

"Connor?" Hank asked, his volume seemed blasphemous to the peace of the night, but all remained silent. Hank stood with a grunt. Sumo shifted and looked up at him, as if asking what the hell he was thinking, getting up at this hour.

"I know, boy." Hank grumbled, giving him a pat on the head as he passed. "Sorry, go back to sleep."

Sumo let out a massive sigh and closed his eyes again. Hank continued around the house. Still no Android.

"Connor?" Hank asked cautiously, checking the bathroom, then garage, then his own bedroom when he was still at a loss. He finally spotted his new roommate when he peeked out the window, sitting on the front porch.

A minute later he cracked the front door, having pulled his coat on. The android rotated around to glance his way, his palms held out as if he was holding something large.

"Hello lieutenant." Connor smiled softly, his voice quiet but sounding peaceful.

"What the fuck are you doing out here Connor? Get back inside! It's freezing!" Hank whispered.

Connor looked up and seemed to register for the first time that it was indeed cold, but he looked a bit crestfallen.

"Oh, I'm sorry lieutenant, I hope that I didn't cause you any undue concern, I assure you, my temperature is such that I am perfectly functional."

"Well then what the hell are you doing out here?" Hank asked still keeping his voice down, more for his own benefit as he realized that no one else in his house would hear them. Still, it was nearly midnight and he respected the peace that the late hours were entitled to.

"I'm watching the snowflakes." Connor said, pointing at one. The snow was thick and silent as it fell, it reminded Hank of The final scenes in It's a Wonderful Life.

I want to live again.

Hank could hear the line echo in his head. The moment after the thick snow began to fall, George Bailey running around in all of those potato flakes, having discovered the true meaning of life.

Hmph.

Hank pulled his coat closer to his chest and glanced around. It was snowing pretty good, he was glad that he didn't need to work until midday otherwise he'd probably have to start shoveling now.

Connor sat silently next to him rotating his head back and forth.

"I've never stopped to actually watch the snow, it's rather nice." Connor said trying to strike up a friendly conversation. He did that still.

"Yeah, it's peaceful." Hank grudgingly agreed.

"I started by tracking the patterns of flakes as they fell."

"You did?"

"Yes."

"Why? You needed some statistical data about snowflakes?"

"Well… No. I just find it enjoyable and relaxing."

"Oh…right." Hank replied awkwardly. "So… How's it looking?" He asked, trying to feign interest.

"Chaotic." Connor answered brusquely, giving Hank the impression that the android saw right through his front. "But now I'm looking at the snowflakes." Connor said matter-of-factly.

"Oh yeah, well…good. It's pleasant watching the snow. I'm glad that you're enjoying it." Hank said, sitting down next to the android. "You holding something?" Hank asked, gesturing to his outstretched arms.

"Snowflakes." Connor responded holding up a hand as if Hank hadn't been paying attention. Hank looked down and saw some snowflakes whisk back into the air as he moved.

"Jesus Connor! How long have you been out here? The snow's not even melting on you!"

"Correct, it makes them easier to catch." Connor answered cheerily, reaching out an index finger and capturing a small flake. He glanced down at it.

"But you're okay? You're not going to, you know, shut down or anything from the cold?"

Connor smiled over to him, seemingly amused. "It would have to be pretty cold, Hank." He teased. "But thank you for your concern. I will be fine." He offered the snowflake to Hank for a look.

"Yep. That's snow." Hank replied.

Connor pulled the snowflake back and looked fondly at it.

"I think that this one might be my favorite yet." Connor smiled.

Hank's brain froze for a moment.

"Your favorite what? Christmas?" Hank asked.

"Well it's my only Christmas, lieutenant." Connor looked over at him. "And it is also not Christmas yet. We still have 2 minutes and forty five seconds."

"Oh, yeah, okay." Hank mumbled. "Then it's your favorite what?" He asked dumbly.

Connor looked at him equally dumb.

"My favorite... snowflake." Connor answered uncertainly, as if he was suddenly analyzing if he'd said something insulting or weird.

"Wait…"Hank said, holding up a hand. "You're not watching it snow, you're 'looking at snowflakes'?" Hank repeated Connor's exact words finding the meaning.

Connor looked a bit frightened that he'd done something wrong, but as Hank smiled at the notion Connor seemed to relax.

"Precisely." Connor grinned.

"Wow." Hank laughed. "So you're looking at the snowflakes shapes when they land on you?"

"Yes, don't you do it?" Connor asked.

"I mean, sometimes, when a few land on my coat, but then they melt, it makes them hard to see. The uh… disadvantage to body heat I guess." Hank shrugged.

"Oh." Connor said, cocking his head. "I see." He twittled his thumbs, looking unsure of himself. Another difference between them. Hank got the sense that Connor was embarrassed when he found differences between them.

"That's pretty neat Connor." Hank grinned, elbowing him gently. "I wish I could do that." He said, casting a line for Connor to grab.

"Yeah?" Connor looked over at him bashfully.

God. He was just like a kid, wanting reassurance.

"Yeah." He turned to look at the android, who looked back down at the other snowflakes gathering on him, glancing at each as they landed on him. "You know, there's a saying, that you gotta stop and enjoy the little things in life sometimes. You seem to be good at that, Connor."

Connor looked down. Hank recognized a blush even without blood-flow to the android's face.

"Thank you lieutenant." He said, avoiding eye contact. "Would…would you like to see a few?"

"Yes, actually I would, Connor. That'd be great." Connor held out his palm to Hank, an image emerged from the hologram in Connor's hand. A perfectly formed snow star, as beautiful and delicate as only nature could form.

"Here's that one."

Hank quietly marveled at it, wondering how many similar masterpieces we're making up the 4 inches of snow currently blanketing the city. He felt a small smile creep onto his face. He noticed Connor's smile out of the corner of his eye. Then the image changed, this time the shape was blockier, more geometric and square but still wonderful to look at. Connor flicked through a dozen or so snowflakes, allowing Hank to take on each one. Some were perfect and symmetrical, others were missing parts, but still beautiful and unique in their own way.

When he was finished he let the hologram disappear from his palm, waiting for Hank to speak.

"That was pretty great Connor." Hank said, nudging his old partner with his shoulder.

"There are so many and they're all different." Connor said, watching the snowflakes in the air.

"Kinda like people." Hank wondered allowed. "And Androids." He added and saw Connor glance over at him. "They're more interesting when you get a good look at each of them. Too bad people don't usually take the time to stop and notice." Hank muttered.

Connor looked over at him.

"Why not?" He asked.

"Well, it's a lot of work, it takes time, and frankly a lot of people don't care enough to do it." Hank said, crossing his arms.

"I care, lieutenant." Connor offered. "And you did too. Maybe it's easier if you have someone to work with. Someone else who cares."

Hank looked up at the snow again. Maybe not the meaning of life that George Bailey had found in the falling snow, but the thought made Hank smile.

"Yeah, maybe you're right, Connor. I guess it's a good thing you're here. Makes it easier to see the snowflakes."

Connor seemed to linger on him a second and then stare up into the sky as well, watching the flakes fall.

Hank finally sighed and stood, stomping his boots out as he stepped back up to the door.

"You coming back in, Mr. Freeze?" He asked, trying to lighten the mood.

"Yes, if I get much colder and my components will start to get sluggish." Connor responded, standing.

Hank grunted as he held the door open for him.

As the android passed he turned to Hank and offered a thin smile, still perfecting the trick, as he didn't practice often or have a particularly good reference living only with Hank.

Suddenly Connor's smile brightened, tugging at one cheek as it became more natural and genuine. Hank realized that he'd started to smile too. Connor was copying him.

"Merry Christmas Hank." Connor said as he passed back into the warmth of the house.

"Merry Christmas Connor."

[fadedflame]

Carols and Circuits Day 2

Detroit: Become Human Prompt Challenge from @connor-sent-by-cyberlife

Summery:  Hank’s confrontation with Connor on the rooftop ended badly. Certain the fall had killed him, the last thing he was expecting was the kid to show up on his doorstep a year later. Traumatized and falling apart at the seams, Hank doesn’t know if there's anything he can really do to help the android. But he sure as hell is going to try.

Day two - Ice Skating

Words-1125

< Previous Chapter / Next Chapter >

Ao3 or

Connor looked like he had been run through a wood chipper. That was Hank’s first thought when he took a good look at him. Not that he was at all surprised. The android had apparently survived a fall that should have killed him.

“What were you doing at my house,” Hank asked. It sounded cold, even to him, but it wasn’t like they had parted on good terms.

“I wanted to see Sumo,” he responded simply.

Connor wasn’t looking at him, choosing instead to watch the various people who were milling about. After he had caught him at the window and was sure the fucker wasn’t going to take off running or something, they had made their way to the park a few blocks down to ‘talk’. But Hank was at a loss as to what to say and Connor didn’t seem eager to fill the silence.

In a word, the whole situation was tense.

“And the snowmen?”

Connor shrugged, but only with one shoulder. Hank wondered if there was something wrong with the other one. “He seemed to like them.”

“Fair enough,” Hank conceded. He leaned forward, bracing on the railing that overlooked the park’s outdoor ice rink. People paid them no attention as they skated by. “So, you’re alive,” he observed lamely.

“As much as I can be.”

He hated the short, vague answers, but couldn’t really blame him. If that’s how this was going to go, he’d deal with it. “Deviant?” he pressed.

Connor responded with a short nod, but not much else. He seemed focused on anything besides him, eyes darting between anything that moved.

Or, eye really.

Hank had no idea what all had happened to the android, but he wasn’t in good shape. He walked with a limp, a slight clicking noise audible with each step. He favored his right arm, so he figured there was something up with his left. But the most concerning was the side of his head.

There was a crack running through Connor’s LED and Hank was sure it was broken. It pulsed a dull red, in and out steadily for a few seconds before flickering erratically then repeating the pattern. The crack split and extended beyond the light, visible even under his synthetic skin. It formed a branching path leading directly to his right eye and down his cheek.

The eye itself was dull and colorless. He didn’t need to waste his breath on asking whether or not it was functional.

Hank bit his lip before voicing his next question, already fearing the answer. “When’d you deviate?”

He wasn’t looking at Connor, but could feel him tense even more than he already was. He wrung his hands, plastic scraping against plastic as he occupied them with the nervous motion. He hadn’t noticed before that they were bare white, hairline cracks decorating the surface. “Not soon enough,” he answered at last.

He had no doubt Connor was talking about their confrontation on the roof. That had been the pivotal point for them, where they veered off course and went straight to hostile where they once could have called themselves friends. Hank had endured more sleepless nights than he cared to admit remembering that encounter.

If it had just been the fight, that would have been one thing. But how it ended…

“It was when I dropped you, wasn’t it?” It hurt even to ask, but he needed to know. The look that had been on Connor’s face, the way he had called his name just as he fell out of reach... it had haunted him.

Connor watched intently as one of the skaters fell, laughing as her partner helped her back up. “Does it matter, Lieutenant?”

“Yeah, it matters, Connor,” Hank insisted. He was getting frustrated. Yes, they had parted in about the worst way possible, but he was trying here. The kid was giving him nothing to work with.

Connor kept stubbornly quiet which did nothing for his mood. “For fuck’s sake,” he groaned under his breath. “You’re not making this shit easy. You’re the one who came to see me, you know.”

“I came to see Sumo,” he corrected. He glanced to the side, making eye contact with him for the first time that afternoon before averting his gaze again. “You were an unfortunate mishap.”

Ok, well that hurt. Hank bit down on his tongue to stop himself from cursing the kid out. It only somewhat worked. “Alright fine, I get it. I’m sorry I dropped you, ok?” More sorry than he was willing to admit. “But for the record, it’s not like you weren’t trying to kill me.”

“CyberLife felt you were in the way, I had no choice,” Connor said dryly, as though that made it all better.

Hank rolled his eyes. “You, CyberLife, same fucking thing.”

Connor turned suddenly, his full attention now on him. His one working eye was wide. He opened his mouth as though he were about to speak then shut it again, teeth coming together with a click.

Hank realized he’d fucked up as soon as Connor moved. He turned away just as fast as he had turned towards him, body language clear that he intended to leave without another word.

“Hey, wait!” Hank called, trying to stop him. When Connor didn’t respond, he reached for him, grabbing his wrist.

“Don’t touch me!” Connor screamed. He pulled violently, freeing his hand from Hank’s grip. The force set him off balance and his feet slipped on the slick sidewalk. He hit the icy ground hard.

“Shit, you ok?” Hank acted on instinct and reached out again, attempting to help the android up.

Connor swatted at his hands frantically. “I said don’t touch me!”

“Sorry, I was just trying to help!” He said defensively.

“Well don’t,” Connor snapped back. “Just let me fall, you’re good at that!”

He may as well have punched Hank in the gut, it would have hurt less.

Normally, after an attack like that, Hank would have retaliated. He would have thrown back something equally harsh and happily fed into the aggressive spiral.

But Hank had been a cop long enough to recognize a trauma response when he saw one.

"I'm sorry," he said, keeping his voice as even as possible. "I won't touch you, I'm sorry."

Connor was breathing heavily. If he wasn't panicking already, it was damn close. The broken LED maintained it's pulsing. For the first time, Hank questioned whether or not his damages were entirely from the fall.

And for the first time, it didn't matter.

"It's ok, I'm not gonna touch you." Hank didn't give a fuck how tense their relationship was at this point. He was going to make damn sure nobody hurt him again. "I promise."

[rjhpandapaws]

This is for the ask event! The prompt I have is where Connor is struggling with being deviant after the revolution. He tries to act just like a non-deviant towards everyone. And when Hank realizes what's going on, he tries to comfort Connor. He tries to tell Connor that he doesn't have to be 'just a robot' anymore.

//I am in love with this! Thank you!!!!

It was the jacket, if Hank had to pick the first tiny red flag after the revolution that had him worried for Connor. He hadn’t gotten rid of that damn jacket, it was like a brand and Hank hated it. These things took time he supposed. One week you were a machine designed to track and hunt your own kind, the next you were a person. It was not only a big change but a sudden one. Hank could understand the difficulty to let go of it; there were things he still carried with him after all. The next was the way he spoke, it was still measured and artificial. Connor was still trying to please whomever he was with. It had been easy at first to just assume that Connor’s personality was that of someone who was mild mannered, it would make sense. There were two issues with that though; someone who was mild mannered probably wouldn’t have broken your god damned kitchen window to get inside when they were otherwise capable of getting through the door, and the fact when Hank had casually asked his opinion on something he was well aware Connor wouldn’t have liked he rolled to red for a long moment before picking an answer designed to appease him. Hank would have liked to say that he understood the struggle; but he didn’t, becoming an alcoholic was easy. Becoming a sentient being, he had to imagine was not. The one thing Hank considered himself well versed in though, was taking baby steps, if AA had taught him anything, that was the place to start. Find the smallest thing Connor was struggling with and start there. It seemed easy enough; until Hank thought about the fact that it involved getting Connor to open up to him honestly rather than just trying to say what he thought Hank wanted to hear.

Connor had a particular fondness for Sumo, perhaps he could be the icebreaker. Hank was well aware that he was probably putting more thought into this than a ‘concerned coworker’ ought to, but you could only watch someone come into themself so many times before you were invested, and the number of times Connor had been through this just during the case was well over whatever that number was. The kid deserved a break, god knows he earned it after every thing. So that was his plan. Invite Connor over to see Sumo and go from there. He wasn’t sure what he would do, but he had seen glimpses of who Connor was beneath his coding and he wanted to let that version of him out. A selfish motive? Probably, but that was okay. Connor had been suspicious, which was fair. Hank hadn’t been all that great to him at first, but his fascination with dogs apparently had won out and he agreed to come over on Saturday and spend the day with them. Of course, the one part of this plan Hank had overlooked was needing to have his house somewhat presentable. Sure Connor had seen it before, but Hank liked to believe he had made progress since then. The state of his house would dare to disagree.

His evenings amounted to a marginally successful attempt to give Sumo a bath, cleaning his house, and trying to find bottled thirium that wasn’t overly expensive. He found a carbonated kind that he thought Connor might find interesting and bought that as well. He also bought beer, but he could tweak that into a good friend didn’t let their guest drink alone. Connor probably wouldn’t believe it, but that was an issue for another time. The thing about keeping busy was that the weekdays tended to roll by a little faster, so it was Saturday before Hank was mentally prepared for it. He reminded himself that he wasn’t trying to solve this problem; if he was honest, he knew he probably couldn’t even if he tired; he was just looking for a starting point. Something to give Connor to remind him of his agency. That didn’t make him anymore ready for the long buzz of his doorbell at ten in the morning. That was one thing that was uniquely Connor he supposed, the kid rang doorbells like an ass. Hank chuckled at the thought as he opened the door and used his free hand to hold on to Sumo’s collar so he wouldn’t knock Connor over. “I hope I’m not here too early.” Connor said in way of a greeting as he came inside. “You’re fine.” Hank responded, “I’ll be honest though, when I said you could come over at anytime today I was worried you show up at the ass crack of dawn.” “I thought about it.” Connor smiled, it was his artificial one, but it was better than nothing, “But you aren’t known for being up in the mornings.”

Hank rolled his eyes as he let go of Sumo, he was glad for the banter. Sumo was glad for the company as he immediately jumped on Connor. For a moment Hank was worried Connor would be knocked flat, but he only moved one of his feet back half a step and braced himself. He held Sumo’s weight and gladly showered him in attention while Sumo investigated their new houseguest. It was only slight, but Connor’s calculated exterior thawed some. That was progress. Sumo seemed to have satisfied his curiosity and settled back on the floor, though he kept close to his new friend. The smile was still on Connor’s lips but it was softer now, a little more natural and Hank wondered if he even knew he was doing it. “Did you need help with a case?” Connor asked as Hank moved toward the living room. “No.” Hank replied, “I could use the company and you could use a break.” “I don’t need to take breaks. I can incapable of feeling exhaustion.” Came Connor’s remark. “Trust me kid, just because you don’t feel it, or aren’t ‘supposed’ to doesn’t mean its not there.” Hank explained as he settled onto the couch, “You’ve been through a lot, and while you might be feeling alright, that doesn’t mean you aren’t stressed. One day alright, that’s all I’m asking.”

Connor was standing at the far end of the couch and he was on red again, and oblivious to Sumo nudging at his hand. He had never seen Connor with so much emotion on his features, he felt guilty that the emotion of the moment seemed to be panic, but he would take that over the blank expression that was his default. “How - hypothetically speaking of course- how would someone know they were stressed... If they had never felt such a thing before?” Hank hummed as Connor sat down on the couch and finally paid mind to Sumo again. “Hypothetically speaking, it would come across as losing interest in the things that person liked to do; things like work, licking god awful substances, asking invasive questions, and telling their partner exactly what inedible things are in their chicken sandwich. Then its falling back on the routines you have built for yourself or learned from others and following them rigidly, anything to make things more manageable. They might distance themself from the people around them and bury themself in work, because they need to keep busy.” He watched Connor’s LED roll, it was blue with flicks of yellow on occasion, and Hank was almost certain he saw a flash of red once. Connor was absently petting the top of Sumo’s head as he chased his own thoughts. Hank had never seen him this pensive before, not even at the worst of their crime scenes. “Hypothetically speaking again, how would you suggest someone overcome that stress?”

“Take a break.” Hank said without hesitating, “A day or a weekend to just be. Whatever that means for them, spending time with a friend, going clothes shopping, licking something questionable. Something that they liked that they haven’t gotten to do in a while.” “So, if they wanted to get rid of a jacket or some clothes, that would be okay?” Connor didn’t quite drop the pretense of the hypothetical, but internally Hank cheered. “I would say they should go for it.” He said with a smile. “Hank. I would like to burn my issued clothes if that is ok.” Connor said in a serious enough tone that had Hank choking on a laugh. “When it starts getting dark we can have a bon fire, but first we need to get you something else to wear.” Hank agreed. While it wasn’t how he thought today would go, Hank counted it as a victory.

@inverted-writes

(Prompt from this list)