What Do You Think About Stu/Sid As A Couple? Matthew Lillard And Neve Campbell Dated For 3 Years In Real

Million Dollar Man

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Cooper Howard x fem!reader, The Ghoul x fem!reader Summary: Shot, choked out, nearly gotten your throat ripped out by a feral ghoul. It’s barely even been forty eight hours on the surface.

Red carpets are overwhelming. You don’t have to walk them, thankfully, but you do have to accompany Cooper. It’s not explicitly required of you as his assistant, and honestly you think Barb would prefer if you didn’t. But he’d started taking you along after you’d admitted to wanting to go to one of his premieres. After that it became a sort of habit. 

Normally, you don’t have to participate. You linger behind interviewers or photographers and wait for him to enter into the theater with you. Tonight, however, Barb was sick. Nothing too horrific, a simple stomach bug that kept her at home. That’s what Cooper thought, at least. You know that she actually has to have an emergency meeting with one of Vault-Tec’s higher ups. There’s been some concerns raised about some of the experiments that she has to do damage control on. 

You’re almost nauseous at the thought that while you’re about to walk the carpet she’s arguing about whether or not children should be executed or experimented on in Vault 130. 

You’d spent most of your paycheck on this ridiculous red dress because Cooper insisted you join him tonight. He didn’t want to be dateless, joking that someone like him should always have a pretty lady on his arm.

You know he was just screwing with you, needling you to get you to agree to come. But you’d seen how much he really wanted you with him and how much Barb didn’t. Her right eye had twitched near imperceptibly at the suggestion and her smile had turned thin and strained. And that petty part of you that despises her for what she’s doing to Cooper, and making you do, had agreed just to piss her off. 

Standing on the carpet with him now, though, his hand hovering over your lower back and a respectable distance between you two, you felt sick.  He’d made it clear to those speaking to him and calling out questions that you were simply his friend, nothing more. He didn’t say assistant, employee, or poor girl that he’d roped into this. He said friend. He was foolishly opening himself up to the risk of a scandal. 

And he didn’t seem to care. 

One woman’s eyes hadn’t left you since you’d joined him at his side. She was glaring holes into you, bitter jealousy and suspicion clear in her gaze. She would kill to be in your position yet would still tear you down later in her pathetic little tabloid. Out of instinct you tried to inch away from Cooper, the plastic smile on your face faltering slightly. 

He glanced over at you through the side of his eyes, his own smile twitching with discontent. His hand came up to your shoulders, fingers splaying across your back, one of them slipping under the skimpy strap of your dress. You inhaled sharply at the contact, warmth blooming everywhere he touched. He seemed to have noticed your reaction if his pleased expression was anything to go by. 

His hand slipped around your arm, tugging you into his side. It was almost comical how many more camera flashes went off at the move. He laughed slightly, the noise low and sending chills down your spine. You couldn’t help yourself, shamelessly indulging as you wrapped your own arm around his waist. His grip on you tightened for a moment before you both relaxed into the other’s touch. 

Scandals be damned. 

It almost felt like he was messing with you. You kept running, breath coming out in short painful bursts. You felt like your chest was going to cave in the longer you went. You couldn’t falter for a second, you could hear him laughing behind you. The cruel noise echoed up above you in the trees and haunted you the further you got. 

You’re sure he could have caught up with you by now, he was teasing you. Taunting you with freedom before that horrible rope of his was back around you again. It was ironic, honestly, considering how attractive you used to find him when he did those lasso tricks in his old movies. 

“You can run sweetheart! But you won’t ever be able to hide from me, not out here!”

“Fuck off,” is what you wanted to say. But at the moment you were pretty fucking busy with just keeping yourself upright. You weren’t sure how long you’d been running, could have been ten minutes, could have been an hour. By this point the sound of branches cracking under your feet and the leaves rustling above you was just one high pitched ringing in your ears. 

Your blood was pumping so hard all you could really hear was the muddied sound of your heart pumping inside you. The loud bang didn’t register until you were flying forward. Your hands slide across the forest floor, palms scraping sharply against the rocks and twigs. 

The adrenaline in you is pumping so hard, your instinct for survival blocking out everything else, that you don’t register any pain. You scramble back to your feet, boots slipping in mud you hadn’t noticed before as you do, and shoot off again. 

You can hear him growing a bit more distant, voice fading away to nothing the more distance you put between the two of you. He must have had to stop to fire off his gun, you’re sure it’s the only reason you manage to get away from him. 

Still, you don’t let yourself stop or take a moment’s reprieve. You keep running until you can feel the impact of the ground inside your bones. You keep moving even as your blood burns with exhaust under your skin.

You’re completely turned around, not even letting yourself have a second to check your Pip-Boy. Eventually, when you break through the border of the forest, you find yourself in an area that looks more civilized than you were expecting. It’s all cracked pavement and crumbling buildings, but at the very least it’s not an endless wasteland of red sand. 

Through cracks in old cement you can see life beginning to grow through the old dredges of humanity. You’ve completely lost sight of Cooper. You’d like to believe he’s giving up, but you know him better than that. He’s nothing if not stubborn. Still, you allow yourself to slow down slightly. 

You jog through an old neighborhood, looking for anywhere that seems safe enough to squat in. But in every house you pass you can spot Radroaches or hear something that sounds inhuman. You’d rather not risk it when the only weapon you have on you is a knife. Plus, you’re completely exhausted from the chase. You can feel yourself slowly losing steam, the only thing that’s keeping you going now is pure adrenaline. 

You hear a loud screech to your left and your head whips towards it. Nothing comes out of the dilapidated house but you can hear the floorboards creaking with the weight of whatever is inside. The noises echo through the neighborhood and it’s only then that you notice how dark the sky is growing. You haven’t been on the surface very long, but you can assume it’s better not to be caught unawares in the dark. 

You keep your eyes on the house, blindly stumbling backwards as fear courses through you. It nearly has you frozen in place. Images of inconceivable horrors darting through your mind as you consider what could be waiting for you in the house. Your heart is racing again and you turn around, bolting down the street. 

It sounds like a bomb goes off behind you and you duck instinctively. Your feet catch on an upraised root in the ground and you go tumbling forward. Your arms spin uselessly by your sides as your feet scramble for purchase on the pavement. You manage to right yourself, turning around just long enough to catch something that looks like a ram fucked a T-Rex. It hasn’t spotted you yet, it’s head tilted further into the neighborhood as the destruction of the old house surrounds it. 

You glance around desperately, trying to find anywhere you could hide. You recognized its form, a Deathclaw. Another one of Vault-Tec’s special projects. A collaboration with the US military and their scientists to create the next great bio weapon. A knife wouldn’t do anything to it except piss it off. 

Not too far from you, you can see a bright red sign. An old Red Rocket gas station that should be good enough to hide out in while you wait for the Deathclaw to move on. You move slowly, backing away while you keep your eyes trained on the beast. It’s only then that you start to notice an odd tingling sensation in your right thigh. It almost feels like a bee sting. You don’t have time to worry about it now, though. 

The Deathclaw’s head turns, nose pointed up in the air while it sniffs around. You take the risky move of turning your back to it and bolt towards the safety of the gas station. You move with a slight limp, your right leg dragging behind you as a cramp begins to take hold of your thigh. You groan through your teeth, reaching down and holding onto it like you can force it to keep moving. You’re surprised by the wet warmth you feel when you touch the pants of your suit. 

You crash into the door of the gas station and rush inside. You slam it closed behind you and lean against it, letting out a long relieved rush of breath. You finally let yourself slump, your muscles going lax and losing the tension they’d been holding for the past few hours. You slide down the door and fall onto the filthy floor, dust rising up around you as you do. The adrenaline you’d been so heavily relying on is starting to wane as your exhaustion crashes down on you. 

You pull your hand off your thigh and glance down on it. You almost feel disconnected from your body when you see the blood coating it. The bang you’d heard in the woods earlier, Cooper shooting off his gun. You’d foolishly thought that he’d just been firing around you or into the sky, like he was trying to frighten you. 

Your voice is small as you speak, a surprised whisper, “He fucking shot me.” Your head thuds against the door and you clench your eyes shut. The adrenaline must have been the only thing keeping you going. You hadn’t even felt the bullet make contact. The cramp in your thigh begins to get more intense, you feel like your leg is being bent backward and another second of pressure is going to break it. 

You grit your teeth, bloody hand slipping against the door as you force yourself to your feet. Your foot’s going cold and you need to find something to stop the bleeding before you lose any more blood. It’s a dull throbbing ache now, it’s only going to get worse the longer it goes untreated. You’d had a plethora of Stimpaks, but Cooper had tossed those to the forest floor like they were nothing. 

You suppose to him they are nothing. 

You put your weight on your left leg and begin to hobble through the gas station, hoping to find something useful. The entire place has been raided, the aisles overturned and the shelves are bare. You’re sure there used to be supplies here but they’re long gone. The only interesting thing that catches your eye is a radio on the counter. It’s right near a back door. 

If you’re lucky - which clearly you aren’t - there will be something good behind the door. You clutch onto the counter for support, cold sweat beading on your temple as the pain in your leg intensifies. You flip through the stations of the radio, hoping to pick up a helpful radio wave. 

“-friendly reminder that I don’t take requests. So, please, don’t try and visit me anymore.” The ear grating sound of fiddles fills the empty shop and you jump back in surprise. Of fucking course. The only radio station for a hundred miles and he only plays fiddle music. You go to turn the radio off but a loud clatter coming from behind the closed door stops you. 

Your hand moves from the radio knob to the crowbar on the counter and you limp towards the door. You press your ear against the cool metal but don’t hear anything else. Clutching the cold iron of the crowbar close to your chest you slowly pulled the door open. It creaked and you winced but you barely had time to process that before something was screaming and lunging at you. 

You went flying across the shop, the breath knocked out of you as you slid across the floor. You slammed into the refrigerated walls and rolled onto your hands and knees. Blood followed the trail your body made, still leaking from your thigh. You caught sight of disjointed feet rushing towards you and had half a second to react to the ghoul that lunged for you. The crowbar was swinging before you could think about it. 

Iron met skull and the dull, wet, thud had you cringing. There was a brief squeal before the feral ghoul dropped to the ground, arms and legs twitching around wildly. “Fuck me running,” you muttered, wincing as you dragged yourself back to your feet. Two more were waiting in the doorway for you and you briefly wondered if you should just kill yourself. Seemed easier than dealing with all this bullshit. 

But you were inclined to saving your ass, so you tighten your grip on the crowbar and wait for them to come to you. The second one was easy enough to deal with. You swung the bar against their jaw so hard half of it fell to the floor with a bloody splat. Then you brought it over the top of their head until you could see brains and it crumpled to the floor. 

But your strength was waning, any reserves you had of adrenaline were drained. You stumbled against the wall as the third lunged at you. It took everything you had to simply keep its rotted teeth away from your neck. Your arms trembled from the strain and your hands slipped against their neck as they snapped their teeth loudly. You pushed against them in vain, any strength you had was gone. 

Their head snapped to the side and your ears rang as a shot went off. The ghoul crumpled near your feet and you stared wide eyed down at the blood pooling out from under it. You looked to the right and saw Lucy standing at the door, gun in hand and eyes wide as she stared at the ghoul by your feet. 

“Lucy?” You spotted what she was holding and frowned, “Is that a head?”

Credit where credit is due. He’d never seen someone run off a bullet wound before. She’d barely even tripped before she was bolting through the trees again. He watched her flying over the roots and jumping around bushes of stinging leaves with a grin on his face. “Run rabbit run!” He shouted after her, laughing when he heard her fall again. 

He stopped, eyes darting down to the small pool of blood she’d left behind. He could follow the prints her boots left in the mud, and when he lost those, he could just follow the blood. The sight of it brought him more satisfaction than it should have. But along with it came the rage that she’d even managed to get away at all. 

He should have known she would try and fight back. He’d been hoping she would be unprepared for the surface, but Vault-Tec would never let their little soldiers out without knowing how to fight. They were meant to re-dominate the world after all. 

He forces himself to slow down, to savor the chase. It’s so rare that he gets to do anything but wait with his targets. He was going to milk this for all it was worth. He couldn’t wait until he got her cornered, snared like a wild animal. He’d love to see how she would try to fight back then. 

He follows the tracks and feels himself growing antsy. She doesn’t know the area, that much is clear. If she did, she wouldn’t be running towards a well known Deathclaw nest. Not much can do him real harm. Bullets, arrows, knives, pretty much anything can go through him and he’ll live. But there’s only so much healing you can do when a Deathclaw is ripping your arms off. 

“Fuck,” he mutters, watching as her prints dissapear and small dribbles of blood lead into an abandoned neighborhood. It’s getting dark, he’ll lose sight of the trail soon. If he follows it into the neighborhood there’s a good chance that she’ll already be dead. Either from blood loss or from running up on a Deathclaw in its home. He’s risking his own hide for nothing more than revenge. 

If he waits any longer he’ll have to camp for the night and there’s a chance he might not catch up to her again. He tugs the pistol out of its holster and keeps an eye out for any hulking beasts that might try and delimb him. 

There’s a pile of broken wood and glass in the middle of the road. Remnants of an old house. He can only assume it's the work of the Deathclaw, nothing else has half as much a penchant for destruction. He skirts around it, following the blood down the hill towards an old gas station. 

The dog he picked up in Filly runs up ahead of him, catching a scent and following it. He can only wonder what’s set it off but it’s not his main priority. If the damn thing runs off then so be it. The closer he gets to the station the more he can make out voices. There’s a light glowing through the window, flickering to life like a fire would. Among the voices is the staticky sound of fiddles playing. 

The music he recognizes as the work of the intolerable DJ he ran into a few months back. Man had his station boobytrapped halfway to hell. As annoying as his music was, he wasn’t worth the hassle to kill. He wished he had now, though. Just the brief bit he has to listen to is enough to drive him mad. 

Dogmeat barks and the voices go quiet. “Fucking dog,” he mutters. He doesn’t give them any time to prepare. He busts through the door, guns drawn and points them at the two women on the floor. Two-in-one, he gets the head and the girl. 

She glares up at him, hand wrapped around her bloody thigh. “You found me.”

He gives her a mean grin, cocking the hammer of his gun back. She braces herself but he points it at her little friend instead. “You can run, but you can’t hide from me sweetheart.”

Cooper led her into the theater. He couldn’t help but laugh at the way she visibly deflated. Her shoulders slouched forward and she lost some of the faux confidence she’d been forcing for the cameras. He almost felt a little guilty for dragging her along with him, but not by too much. 

When Barb had said she couldn't make it, well, he hadn’t hesitated. As horrible as it is, he’d been wanting her on his arm for a while. Could anyone really blame him? She was gorgeous, and it wasn’t all physical. There was a fight, a spirit, in her that he adored. It created a certain spark in her eye that had drawn him the first moment he met her. 

And still, in front of all of those cameras it was the first time he’d ever really seen her look unsure of herself. Indulging more than he should, he kept his arm around her, thumb idly smoothing over her bare skin. “You alright, sweetheart?”

She glanced up at him, lips parted and looking like she’d forgotten he was standing there with her. The odd sadness in her gaze disappeared, shuttered away behind her walls. She put on a tense smile and hummed, “Yep. I’m fine.” She took in a deep breath and straightened herself, looking more like the woman he recognized. “Just never really been a fan of cameras, especially not that many.” A weak chuckle and then she ducked out from under his arm using the guise of needing the washroom. 

He sighed, immediately feeling the absence of her body pressed against his. There was a clear lack of warmth as she walked away from him and the distance between them seemed larger than it should. “Mr. Howard?” Cooper turned around, a young woman was waiting behind him with a notepad in hand. He recognized her as one of the producer’s daughters and immediately turned on his charm. 

“Yes?”

She nearly blushed at the direct attention and eagerly held out the pen and paper. “Could I please have you autograph? I’m one of your biggest fans!” Meeting girls like her was one of his favorite parts of doing these premieres. They were always so kind and excited, waiting to meet him like he was some sort of hero. Sometimes it felt like he received the sort of attention as an actor that he should have when he was in the war. 

He smiled and reached for the paper, quickly signing off his signature. It had been one of the harder parts to adjust to when he first started acting, trying to get his signature right. Now, he didn’t even have to look at the paper to do it. The girl started rattling off her favorite movies of his, asking him questions he wasn’t really hearing. He knew he should be paying attention, it never does well to ignore producers' kids. 

But he sees his date moving into the theater out of the corner of his eye and suddenly can’t be bothered with the girl. He hands her the notebook back, cutting her off as he bids her goodbye and walks after the woman he’s eager to speak with again. A P.A. jumps in front of him before he can get very far. “Mr. Howard,” his smile is strained and they sound tense. Clearly, he’d been looking for him for a while. “You’re needed up front.”

She sits in the back of the theater, clearly tired of being front and center the whole night. Again, there’s that little pang of guilt in his chest that he’d dragged her out here. But it disappears as she takes her seat and the slit of her dress slides up her thigh. He jerks his head back towards the stage and focuses on just getting through his little speech. He thanks his supporters, introduces the movies, and the second he gets the signal is beelining towards her. 

She gives him a surprised look when he lands in front of her. “Aren’t you supposed to be up there with them?” She phrases it like a question but the tone of her voice sounds like a demand. He should be up front with the other actors and executives, but she isn’t. The only way he’s getting through tonight is if he can talk to her during the movie. 

He doesn’t often like revisiting his movies. He finds that if he watches them too much he starts to get too critical. He’ll pick apart every line, every action and expression. Eventually he’ll wear himself down and tire himself out by being too picky. 

He shakes his head and takes a seat beside her, arm resting on the bar between them. He unbuttons his suit jacket and leans back, letting out a tired breath. He’s been in the public eye a little bit more lately with this whole Vault-Tec partnership. He’s hoping he can take a break after tonight. Maybe spend more time with his family. 

Of course that means spending less time with her. 

The lights of the theater dim and the crowd quiets from its earlier rush of excitement. She leans back into her seat with an annoyed huff and one last lingering glare before diverting her attention to the start of the movie. He can hear the boot spurs ringing through the speakers, his own voice calling out to the villain of the flick. 

But he can’t take his eyes off of her. The annoyance had disappeared fast from her gaze, never really there to begin with. She’s got this sparkle in her eye and a sort of subdued excitement that pleases him to see. She can try and deny it as much as she wants, but he knows that she is one of his oldest fans. She gets a starstruck look everytime she sees one of his movies. 

But she doesn’t give him that same look, just the movies. 

Without thinking his hand reaches for her own. He doesn’t know why he does it, what could possibly possess him to do something so stupid. But she looked so damn beautiful tonight, he just couldn’t help himself. Her hand, however, happens to be on her thigh. 

He’d meant it to be a friendly gesture. But he was so busy admiring her he missed and his hand clasped around her upper thigh instead. He doesn’t hate the feel of her skin under his. The brush of silk from her dress and the warmth emanating from her. He should, he’s a married man after all. But she seems like such a perfect fit in every aspect of his life that he can’t ever imagine any part of their relationship being wrong. Even such an intimate touch like this feels right to him. 

He expects her to get upset, swat him off of her. She should, she has every right too. Instead, she places her own hand on top of his. She’s yet to look away from the screen, barely even twitching when he touches her. Her eyes are on the larger than life image of him, but her attention is solely focused on Cooper. 

She leans closer into him slightly and he can smell the sweet perfume she’d spritzed tonight. It drives him insane, how deeply attached he’s become to her. He recognizes that this isn’t her normal perfume and he shouldn’t. He shouldn’t know what perfume she wears, what her favorite nail color is or the exact shade of her everyday lipstick. But he does, he recognizes it all. Knows her better than he knows himself sometimes. 

It should surprise him. Him touching her should surprise her. But it doesn’t. Because on some level, they both know this is how it’s meant to be. They’re meant to be together, even if they shouldn’t be. He finally tears his eyes off of her, squeezing her leg slightly and she does the same to his hand. 

A secret message between the two.

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

HELLO???? WHY AM I JUST NOW FINDING THESE 😭😭😭

When I tell you that I am FERAL for your writing, I'm not even kidding. I am DROOLING all over the angst you've written. (especially the logan ones, but watch me zoom and read the ones you've written for others as well 🤤)

Like I cannot PHYSICALLY tell you how much I love that stomach churning, heart crushing shit. Rip my wounds open and make them bleed fr fr 🥹🥹🥹

(Seriously tho, you're an incredible writer. Can't wait to read more of your stuff ❤️)

Oh my god stop, I'm blushing and freaking out. Thank you so much!! I'm glad you're enjoying my writing and if you do a deep dive into my other works, prepare yourself lol. I'm really not good at writing nothing but fluff, so there's always some angst in everything I write (oops)

It means so much to me when readers tell me that they physically felt pain while reading my writing. My favorite thing is when an author can concoct something that actually makes my chest ache, so this means so much to me 💗

Broken Machinery

Pt. 5 (completed series)

Series masterlist

Connor RK800 x fem!reader

A/N: I wanted drama but my hatred for miscommunication tropes has thwarted me. 

Content Warnings: Cussing (duh), adult conversations about feelings, sex androids, perverts, Gavin

Word Count: 5k

Series Summary: You and your grumpy partner Anderson gain a new addition to the team. He’s supposed to be CyberLife’s best, but there’s something not quite right with his programming, and the problems seem to revolve around you.

Connor was in your living room.

Connor was in your living room staring at a flower. 

Connor was in your living room. 

Why was he still here? You’d thought he had left last night. You looked around your home, like someone was about to pop out and attack you. He obviously hadn’t planned an ambush, but why else would he be here?

“It was a guess.” You jumped ten feet out of your skin at the sound of his voice. You’d assumed he had been in sleep mode. Once the scare wore off you finally processed his words. 

“What was a guess?” You really didn’t want to care, but curiosity got the best of you.

Androids didn’t guess they came to educated conclusions provided by their software. You made your way to the kitchen to make some coffee, but Connor stopped you by putting a mug in the air, you could still see the steam coming out of it. 

You took it from his hands and sniffed it like it was poisoned. After his display with the noodles last night you really didn’t trust his prowess in the kitchen. It didn’t seem like he had messed anything up. You took a seat in the armchair across from the couch.

The repairman must have already come, your window was fixed, the blinds were open on all the windows letting the morning light inside. 

It didn’t escape your notice that Connor’s LED had been a steady red since you had walked into the living room. Or that he had wiped off your drawings. “On the roof I took a risk.”

You stiffened at the mention of the roof. The fear was still present, the feeling like you had wasted your entire life and would have nothing to show for it was still heavy on your chest. 

When you’d been faced with certain death, you hadn’t gotten a pretty flashback of all the good points in your life. You hadn’t felt at ease, like what you’d been put on the earth to do had been completed. You had felt absolutely worthless. Like you’d never amounted to anything and had disapointed everyone around you.

You felt like no one would miss you when you were gone, and that hurt worse than anything.

To avoid feeling, you’d been shoving any thoughts of the roof deep down into the abyss of your other repressed memories. You didn’t feel like reliving any of that with the android that had left you to die. Connor must have seen how quickly you’d become defensive because he rushed to finish the rest of his thought. 

“I could hear Hank coming up the stairs, he was barely three feet away from us. You had a 40% chance of survival without my help. You were guaranteed survival by Hank’s arrival. My mission took precedence and I pursued the deviant.” Connor finally looked away from the flower and at you. “I’ve replayed the memory a hundred times since it happened and I keep coming to the same conclusion; I didn’t want to leave you.”

Connor gets up from the couch and kneels in front of you on your chair. You’re still struggling to process what he’s saying. “I wanted to stay and be the one to catch you. You were my priority, but my programming forced me after the deviant and I had no choice but to pursue.” 

You were reeling from the bomb he had just dropped. The fact that he wanted anything was a problem, androids didn’t want. They followed orders. They weren’t allowed feelings or desires. 

His LED was still red, you were starting to worry about what this would mean for the stability of Connor’s programming. If anything he was saying was true then he was at risk of being deactivated soon.

Therein lies the problem. Was any of this the truth or was it just another form of manipulation to gain your trust back?

“How do I know you actually mean what you’re saying?” Connor looked up from where he had been staring at your hands, his head tilted at your question. “I know your favorite dog isn't a St. Bernard, Connor, okay? I know that you can illegally acquire documents if it’s necessary for the succession of your mission. I know you’re capable of actions that other androids aren’t. Including manipulation.” You leaned in towards his face. “How do I know that you’re not using those tactics on me right now?”

Connor’s face scrunched up in something that looked a hell of a lot like frustration. “Damn it, Y/N, just listen to me! There is something happening inside me that I have no control over. Every glitch in my software, every instability, every irrational instruction it all revolves around you! I wanted to save you and I couldn’t. I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry.”

What Connor was asking for right now was trust, another chance, a leap of blind faith. He was asking a lot for someone who just left you to die. But he was also trusting you, trusting that you wouldn’t report him or have him deactivated for signs of deviancy.

Trust needs to go both ways.

So, you would take the leap, the small risk that he was lying to you. You would take it and believe him, because you were desperate.

Desperate for this to be the truth, to be so special to someone you were literally breaking their programming. That innate desire for someone to just accept you as you were was ripping down any walls you were attempting to build between yourself and Connor. 

Yes, you were still upset about what happened on the roof, and no, things wouldn’t be the same as they were before. But maybe that didn’t have to be a bad thing. 

“Okay.”

Maybe it’s better to go into this again with the sobering reminder that he was an android. He wasn’t a stray puppy or someone that needed protection. He was a machine with programming and rules to follow. It wasn’t fair to be so mad at him for something he had no control over. 

But this moment, where he’s staring at you with a desperation that mirrors your own, also reminds you that they can feel. Sometimes they just need that push in the right direction. 

“What?”

“I believe you.” You didn’t give him a second to process that information before you asked your next question, “But that still doesn’t tell me what your guess was on the roof?”

Connor reached up and fiddled with his tie, he apparently still needed a moment to register the fact that you were trusting him. “The guess was that you wouldn’t hate me afterwards… and that perhaps the Lieutenant being the one to save you would help your relationship.”

“Well, it didn’t. He hasn’t talked to me since I got out of the hospital.” Connor frowned at that. “Look, I appreciate the honesty and the attempt at fixing my relationship with him. However, partnerships are built on trust, I need to be able to trust you completely when we’re out in the field together. If I can’t then we have no chance of closing this case, so override whatever you need to override to make your first objective your partner's safety.” 

Connor nodded and fixed his sleeves, “Done.”

You nodded, “Good, now let’s go get something to eat. I’m starving.” It was only when you got up to change that you noticed what the flower was on your coffee table.

A black dahlia.

“The Lieutenant really hasn’t contacted you?” You glanced up at Connor from your breakfast sandwich and shook your head. The thought made your eyes sting. “That’s unacceptable,” you snorted at Connor’s indignation. His LED had gone back to a cool blue once you had given him the objective of feeding you. “I’ll be staying with you until you’re healed, then.”

You choked on the water in your mouth. Connor’s hand came down in pats hard enough to dislodge the water but not enough to further damage your ribs. “What?” You croak out as you attempt to blink tears out of your eyes. 

“You needed assistance dressing yourself this morning,” you rolled your eyes.

That was a bit dramatic, you just needed a bit of help getting your shirt on, and your jeans… and tying your shoes, plus your hair. It wasn’t even a lot.

“And bathing, plus, keeping a tidy living area will help with your psychological recovery. There’s nothing wrong with getting some help, detective. All I need is somewhere to sit so I can recharge.”

“Do I have any choice?”

Connor stared at you in silence for a long moment before responding with a stern, “No.”

Moving him in was easy. 

He literally only owned the flower.

The same flower he tried to give you at the hospital. You feel a bit guilty everytime you look at it. You just end up thinking about the way you acted when he came to visit you at the hospital. You were a bit blinded by your own terror and rage at the time, but thinking back it was clear he had wanted to make amends with you. 

And android ‘recharge’ just meant he sat somewhere and shut down while his software repaired any damage he had acquired during the day. So you set him up on the couch. You didn’t really do much after breakfast, Connor forced you to stay on the couch or in your room. He had also forced you into your sling, you hated the way it scratched on your neck, but every time you went to take it off he would appear out of nowhere and place it right back on. 

He was like a parent with a sixth sense for when their toddler was sticking something in their mouth they shouldn’t. 

Your entire day was spent with Connor hovering around somewhere in the background while you let your TV make your brain dumber. 

At around eight Connor stopped from where he had been digging around in your bookshelf. He stayed completely still in his squatted position and his LED turned yellow. You’d gotten used to his random stopping and going so you just ignored him and turned your attention back to the god awful soap on TV. 

It was when he made his way to your front door that you finally turned your attention towards him. “Where’re you going?”

“I just received information on another deviant case, I’m going to retrieve Lieutenant Anderson.”

You quickly shot off the couch and stared at him in offense. “Without me?”

He gave you a deadpan look, “You’re still injured, detective. You need rest, it would be unwise for you to come with me.”

Well that’s sure as hell not happening. Time to engage in some manipulation tactics of your own. “Fine. But I’m going to follow you anyway. I’m probably gonna get changed on my own too, see if I can drive with only one arm,” you totally could, but he didn’t need to know that. “You know I still have a minor concussion,” you began walking towards your bedroom, “I wonder how badly that affects someone’s ability to drive.”

The taxi pulled up to the curb of Lieutenant Anderson’s house and Connor let you out first. He followed behind and made his way to the door. You wandered towards Hank’s car while he tried to get his attention at the door. “Lieutenant Anderson?” Connor glanced over at you, you had accidentally triggered the perimeter light in front of the garage and were quickly tip-toeing your way back to him. 

He tried the doorbell, “Anybody home?” You brushed against him and shoved your finger into the doorbell, holding it there for a few seconds before making it play a discordant tune. 

“Huh, that usually works.” 

FIND A WAY INSIDE

Connor left you to play with the doorbell while he searched around the perimeter of the house. He peered into every window until he found an open one by the kitchen. A quick look inside showed him the Lieutenant was passed out on his kitchen floor. “Lieutenant Anderson?”

Non-responsive. Connor didn’t waste any time breaking the window and jumping through. He landed on his back and a large St. Bernard was immediately standing over him. “Easy… Sumo, I’m your friend, see? I know your name, I’m here to save your owner.” He was a little worried that he might attack him until his tail started wagging and he turned back around, out of the kitchen. 

You were standing in the entrance doorway, holding a key up for him to see. You looked at the broken glass under him and then to the window. “Dude… You have a problem.” Your gaze drifted, landing on the Lieutenant. “Shit, dad.” You pocketed the key and rushed over to Hank’s side. “Oh, god, gross.” You backed away slightly when you caught sight of the vomit on Hank’s face and chest. 

Connor kneeled next to Hank and quickly scanned him. “He’s got slight arrhythmia, but no sign of trauma to his heart.” He kept the information about the gun to himself, but from the way you were looking down at it he had a feeling you already knew the game the Lieutenant was playing. “I suspect it’s an ethylic coma.” Connor lightly slapped the Lieutenants cheek in an attempt to wake him, but you pushed his hand away. 

“I’ve got this,” you were more than eager to land a harsh slap to the Lieutenants cheek that left a bright mark in the shape of your hand. “Wake up, asshole.”

The Lieutenant came to and Connor leaned over, “It’s me Connor, and Y/N.” Connor reached over and grabbed Hank’s arm, slinging it over his shoulder. “I’m going to sober you up for your own safety.”

“Hey! Leave me alone, you fuckin’ android!” 

“I have to warn you, this may be unpleasant.”

Hank looked towards you and frowned, “Get the fuck outta my house, I told you I didn’t want you around!” There were tears building in the corner of your eyes, but you helped Connor lead the Lieutenant to the bathroom anyway. “Sumo! Attack!” The dog’s tail hit the ground but he made no move to get up. “Good dog.”

Connor propped Hank onto the wall to open up the bathroom door. “I think I’m gonna be sick.”

“The fuck do you think happens when you drink a whole bottle of whiskey?” You were frowning at the Lieutenant, hostility clear in your voice. 

“It was only… half.” His words were slurred and he seemed disoriented. He was no use to either of you in this shape. “Leave me alone, asshole! I’m not going anywhere…” When the Lieutenant attempted to hang onto the bathroom door frame you were quick to slam your fist on his fingers, making him yelp and pull back in pain. 

Connor saw four notes on the bathroom mirror, two were in Hank’s handwriting, ‘I’m not grumpy I just don’t like you!’ ‘To shave or not’ 

The other two he recognized as yours from your written reports; ‘Today will be fantastic!’ ‘You’re doing great :)’

Connor shoved the Lieutenant down with a little more force than necessary when he saw the sad way you were looking at the notes, and the way you seemed to hunch down more into yourself. “Sorry, Lieutenant. It’s for your own good.” There was a slight satisfaction as he turned the water on cold and watched the Lieutenant struggle, it left him when he turned around and realized you were no longer in the bathroom. 

“OH GOD! TURN IT OFF! TURN IT OFF!” He was certainly aware now. “What the fuck are you doing here?”

“A homicide was reported forty three minutes ago. We couldn’t find you at Jimmy’s bar, so Y/N suggested we see if you were at home.”

“Jesus, I must be the only cop in the world that gets assaulted in his own house by his own fuckin’ android… Can’t you just leave me alone?”

Connor ignored the lack of concern Hank displayed at the fact that you weren’t at home, like you should be, resting. “You seem to have personal issues. You should consult a professional who can help you.” Connor would not be offering his support to Hank. 

“Beat it! You hear me?! Get the hell outta here!” Connor helped the Lieutenant back onto the edge of the bathtub when he stumbled. 

“I understand. It probably wasn’t interesting anyway… A man found dead in a sex club downtown…Guess they’ll have to solve the case without us…” Connor promised not to use any manipulation tactics on you, he didn’t say anything about not using them on the Lieutenant. 

“You know, probably wouldn’t do me any harm to get some air… There’s some clothes in the bedroom there.”

BRING HANK CLEAN CLOTHES

“I’ll go get them.” He closed the door as Hank began throwing up. 

“Hey, cutie.”

Connor turned towards your voice, “Hello, detective.” You were leaning over petting Sumo, your eyes widened when he responded to a compliment clearly meant for the animal you were interacting with. 

You smiled at him, “I was talking to Sumo.”

Connor cleared his throat, “I knew that.” He moved towards the bedroom and then paused, you were still watching him. “Even if I didn’t, it would be understandable that I would be confused, you call me by a myriad of nicknames.” You were still smiling as he walked into the bedroom. 

You seemed to be pleased by other people’s embarrassment. He chose an outfit he thought might be embarrassing for Hank to wear, in an attempt to lift your mood after the Lieutenants drunken outburst. A streaky zebra patterned shirt that was out of date according to the fashion catalogs Connor had on file. 

He left the clothes on the sink as Hank threw up some more. 

Why did his humans have to be so complicated?

When he walked back towards the living room, you were in the kitchen. You had Hank’s gun in your hand and were staring at a picture on the table in the kitchen. Connor scanned it and recognized the child in the photo to be Cole. 

He gently took the gun from your hand, you used it’s newfound freedom to lift the picture towards your face. Connor chose not to say anything about the gun, but kept the information logged away. 

HANK HAS SUICIDAL TENDENCIES

Connor stared down at the large amount of empty takeout boxes on the kitchen table. “The Lieutenants diet is nearly as bad as yours.” That startled you out of the trance you had been in, staring at the picture. 

“Excuse me?”

Connor shrugged, “I told you, you need more fiber and protein.” 

You scoffed indignantly, “At least I eat fruit. This shit’s all sodium.” Connor engaged in friendly banter with you in an attempt to keep your mind off whatever has been bothering you since you found the Lieutenant passed out on the floor. 

Hank came out of the bathroom a few minutes later, you immediately snickered at the sight of his shirt. “Snazzy, Hank.” Connor’s assumption was correct, you had an immature form of humor. You quickly moved Connor to hide the damage he had done to the window

Hank chose to ignore the comment as he walked out the door, “Be a good dog, Sumo.”

“Gross,” You were staring up at the entrance to the Eden Club, watching the video of the sexiest androids they had to offer play out. “This is creepier than sex dolls, at least those don’t breathe.” 

“Are you sure this is the place?”

Connor turned off the ignition and looked at the Lieutenant in the back seat, “It’s the address in the report.” Connor got out and moved to open your door, you gave him a small thank you as you exited. 

“Sexiest androids in town. Now I know why you insisted on coming here.” Connor ignored the Lieutenant in favor of observing you. You seemed uncomfortable watching the androids dance on the poles. 

“Is there something wrong, detective?”

You frowned, “It just creeps me out, they’re standing in boxes waiting to be picked and then they just get fucked. There’s no consent or pleasure for them, they physically can’t even say no.”

Connor was confused, “That’s their purpose detective. To pleasure humans.”

You gave Connor a long look that he couldn’t decipher. “Doesn’t mean it's right.”

You follow Hank towards the briefing and Connor lags behind in favor of observing the androids in the club, processing your words. He couldn’t fathom their meaning, androids were designed with one purpose, and programmed to carry out that purpose. Saying it wasn’t right was like saying it was wrong for a washing machine to clean your clothes. Androids were objects and you seemed to have trouble understanding that. 

“Connor! The fuck are you doing?” You and Hank were staring at him watch the Traci model dance, you had a frown on your face. 

“Coming, Lieutenant.” 

He barely heard you mutter, “I bet.”

The congested voice of Ben rang out through the club and the three of you moved towards him. He directed you towards the room the murder occurred in. Ben stopped you before you could enter, “Gavin’s in there, watch out.” 

“Ugh, as if this night couldn’t get any worse, thanks Benny.” He nodded and moved back towards the owner of the club. 

You walked through the room first. “Look, it’s Detective Y/LN, and her plastic toy. The fuck do you want?”

Connor answered before you could, your adrenaline had immediately spiked at the sight of the detective and he didn’t need you getting in another physical altercation. “We’ve been assigned all cases involving androids.”

“Oh, yeah? Well, you’re wasting your time.” He turned towards the body and laughed. “Just some pervert who, uh, got more action than he could handle.”

“You’re such a-”

Hank quickly grabbed your uninjured arm. “We’ll have a look anyway. If you don’t mind.” 

Gavin scoffed, “It’s starting to stink of booze in here anyway.” He purposefully knocked into Connor on the way out and Hank had to physically hold you back from jumping at him. Your willingness to engage in physical conflict while in already damaged condition was worrisome to Connor. 

Chris bade you all goodnight and you just barely muttered one back before he was gone. Hank was unbothered by your anger as he let you go again. “I hate that son of a bitch.” You continued talking to yourself about your hatred for Gavin as you looked around the room. Connor only caught bits and pieces of your rant, it was disturbing how well you could plan out a murder. 

EXAMINE VICTIM

EXAMINE ANDROID

Connor went to the victim first and reconstructed the scene. He was strangled deliberately, this was not a failure of the heart like Gavin had dismissed it to be. “He didn’t die of a heart attack, he was strangled.” You barely glanced towards Connor before continuing to angrily look around the room. 

“-can’t even do his job right.” 

Hank confirmed his conclusion, “Yeah, I saw the bruising on his neck.” You walked over and peered at the dead body.

“How did he miss that?”

“He most likely assumed it was a consensual part of their time together.” Heat rose to your cheeks at Connor’s words and you quickly turned away from the body and towards the android. You were very cagey when it came to discussing anything sexual in nature around Connor, he assumed it was due to your attraction towards him and how easily you were aroused. 

EXAMINE VICTIM

EXAMINE ANDROID

Connor frowned at Hank’s words that it didn’t prove anything. He was right, it was circumstantial. “We’re missing something,” you mumbled, kneeling down near the android. Connor walked over and joined you, he provide a more thorough examination than you could. “Think you can read her memory?”

“I can try…” It wasn’t a guarantee. It seemed pretty badly damaged and if it was reactivated, it might not be working for long. 

Hank went through the victims wallet while the both of you looked over the android. “A credit car, cash in the wallet… Picture of his wife and two daughters… I wouldn’t want to make that call.” You stood from your position and stretched out your legs. 

“We’ve made worse.”

He finished his analysis of the android. “The only way to access its memory is to reactivate it.”

“Think you can do it?”

“It’s badly damaged… If I can it‘ll only be for a minute, maybe less… I just hope it’s long enough to learn something”

You both watched him from the corner of the room as he worked to reactivate the android. Connor quickly stood as the android shot up and crawled to the corner of the room. He approached slowly, trying not to startle it too much, being mindful of the limited time he had. “Calm down, everything’s alright. All we want is to know what happened.” Her eyes shot to you in the background. Ignoring Connor’s presence. 

“Is he… Is he dead?” You seemed surprised she spoke to you, but quickly stepped forward and kneeled next to Connor. 

“Yes.” 

“Did you kill him?” Her head shot back towards Connor.

“No, no it wasn’t me.”

“Who was it? Was there someone else in the room?” Your line of questioning caught Connor off guard. After your interrogation in the police station he assumed you to be incompetent in that part of your work. You seem to have a better read on this situation then you did with the HK400. Connor moved to the side and let you take over, the android seemed to respond better to you. 

“I- I don’t know, he said he wanted to play with two of us. He just started hitting me again, and again.”

“Do you know what the model was? Did she look like you?”

“I can’t remember, I was so scared. I’ve never felt that before.” You reached out and took it’s hand. 

“It’s okay, you’re alright.” It nodded before it’s eyes stopped blinking and it shut down. “So, there was another android.”

“This happened over an hour ago, it’s probably long gone.” You nodded at Hank’s assumption. 

“If it were smart, but Connor’s said it before, deviants work on irrational instructions. There’s no logic to their behavior, it might still be nearby.”

“Plus,” Connor added, “it wouldn’t be able to walk around dressed like that unnoticed.” 

“Think you could find a deviant among all the other androids in this place?”

Connor considered Hank’s question, “I could try.”

You seemed to be enjoying watching Hank pay for so many different androids. You were still laughing as he bought a male model, “God, Fowler’s gonna have a field day with this one.” You wiped your eyes, “Oh, this is amazing.”

Hank frowned, “This is about to be the most expensive investigation of my career.” He glared at you, “Glad to see you’re enjoying yourself.”

“Very much so.”

“I know where it went! Follow me.” Both you and Hank turned to follow Connor down the hallway he saw the android go down.

Hank stopped Connor from progressing, “Wait. I’ll take it from here.” Connor nodded and moved back, pushing you behind him. You started to follow them down the stairs when Hank stopped you. “Stay there.”

“What?”

“You’re injured, you shouldn’t even be out of the house. Stay. There!” Hank pushed you back onto the stairs and you threw yourself down onto them, crossing your arms and glaring at Hank. 

You waited until he had walked away to whisper a, “Like you even care.” From the way his shoulders tensed and his footsteps stuttered he had heard you clearly. 

Connor ignored the open warehouse door and continued to search through the storage room, keeping an eye on you to make sure you stayed put. He heard a small gag from the stairs when he sampled a small puddle of thirium off the floor. 

SEARCH FOR BLUE BLOOD TRAIL

The trail led him to a group of androids in the back. Seemingly unactivated, except a blue-haired Traci’s LED was circling through different colors. Connor was hyper focused on watching the blue-haired Traci. It made him blind to the brunette Traci at the front of the group. It had already lunged for him by the time he noticed its LED was also changing colors. 

Your voice was a distraction as the brunette tackled him to the floor, “Shit! Connor-”

Hank stopped his pursuit towards Connor to turn towards you. He pointed his gun at you, “Stay put!” He made it over to Connor to try and help him but the blue haired Traci grabbed Hank and threw him to the ground.

Connor grabbed the brunette Traci by its bra straps and flipped it over a container, only for her to grab a hold of his tie and take him down with her. She straddled him and slammed his head down onto the concrete floor so hard his visual processors temporarily malfunctioned. It was enough of a distraction for her to grab a screwdriver off a nearby shelf, she leapt back onto him and attempted to stab it down into his face. He threw his hand up-

Thirium splattered across his face as the screwdriver stabbed through his palm. He shoved the Traci back and off of him, he whirled around, desperately looking for something to use as a defense. He heard a pained shout and watched as a shelf flew into the Traci. You had managed to sneak behind them both and were panting as you held onto your arm. 

Connor was too busy trying to scold you to notice the Traci getting back up, you let out a surprised squeak and ran behind him, back towards the safety of the stairs. He watched you, confused why you were running, until he felt himself being slammed into a wall. He grabbed the Traci’s hands and threw her back.

He made a run for the table that held an android being worked on and threw the stool near it at the Traci. She swatted it aside like it was nothing. There was a deactivated android standing next to him, he grabbed onto it and threw it at her. 

“Oof-“ 

He was thrown out the open warehouse door and onto his back, standing above him was the blue-haired Traci. She went back inside and grabbed the brunette. He caught a glimpse of them holding hands before Hank was standing up and trying to grab them, only to be knocked back into a pile of trash.

“Hey! Not fighting! Not a part of this,” at some point, while Connor was trying to recover from the fall, the blue haired Traci had dragged you outside, it threw you down next to Hank.

He made his way towards you, scanning you for any possible injuries. You shoved at him, “Connor, move!”

He jumped up from checking on you to see the androids trying to jump the fence at the end of the alleyway. Connor ran over and managed to grab a hold of one of their biceps. Throwing it to the ground, the other one leapt down and onto his back.

He rammed into the alleyways wall to get the one on his back to release him. The blue-haired Traci ran at him, grabbing at his throat while the other attempted to ram its knee into his gut. He grabbed the blue-haired Traci’s wrist and bent it back until he heard the uncomfortable creak of metal, then grabbed the brunette’s leg and shoved her to the ground. She looped a foot around his ankle and tugged him onto the ground next to her. 

Hank at some point, had managed to lose his gun. It was a foot away from Connor’s hand. He kicked the Traci’s face and scrambled to snatch the gun off the ground. It nearly slipped out of his hands, wet from the rainwater, before he managed to get the safety off and was pointing it at the two androids. 

He had it aimed, safety off, poised to fire. His finger pushed against the trigger and then just stopped. 

SOFTWARE INSTABILITY^

The brunette was back up and took advantage of his hesitation. landing a kick to his face that knocked him to the ground. You quickly scrambled over to him, helping him to his knees. 

The blue-haired Traci began speaking to him, her counterpart still holding the gun to his head. “When that man broke the other Traci… I knew I was next… I was so scared, I begged him to stop, but he wouldn’t… And so I put my hands around his throat, and I squeezed until he stopped moving. I didn’t mean to kill him. I just wanted to stay alive. Get back to the one I love,” her eyes were pleading as she looked to Connor.

“You have to understand that. Being held by the one you love, forgetting the rottenness of those who use us, just for a moment.” The Traci looked at you, standing next to Connor, holding onto his arm. He wondered why she would speak to him of love. He was incapable of something so illogical. She turned towards the brunette, “Come on, let’s go.”

You all watched them gracefully climb the fence and run down the street on the other side of the alley.

“Holy shit, I think that’s the most impressive thing I’ve ever seen. Did they just climb that, in stilettos?” You walked over to examine the fence. Hank walked over and gave Connor a strange look.

“It’s probably better this way.”

You walked back towards them and laid a gentle hand on Connor’s shoulder. “You did a good job.”

He was still struggling to process what had happened. He had let the deviants go, gone against direct orders. He failed his mission, nothing about what he just did was good or a success. 

So, why did he feel like he had just done something right?

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

i just have a comment!! your series?? it's amazing. thank you thank you!! what a great way to start 2025

I'm so happy people are enjoying the series! I haven't done one of my chaptered fics in a while so this a lot of fun.

I’m begging you not to make a love triangle between Logan, Jean and reader 😩in the bodyguard fic

OHMYGOD I nearly posted this and then realized this wasn't a request for a love triangle it was anti-love triangle lmao, you just got saved a long-winded rant.

Don't worry that, along with miscommunication, has to be the top trope to make me want to throw my phone across the room. Plus, from what I recall from the movies, once he loves someone he's done.

He loved Jean so much in the movies and she never stopped haunting that poor man's narrative lol. Once he's chosen someone he's in. If I continued it, it would be a very one-sided attraction on Jean's end bc I just don't think a love triangle fits his character (as in liking more than one woman.)

Guys I need help

I can’t choose‼️‼️‼️

hi can you add me to your tag list for hell hath no fury? idk if I got the title right but I loveee your series❤️

ofc I can! I'm so happy people are enjoying the series. I hadn't expected it to get so much love ♥️

Frayed Wires

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I’ll distract them

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

They’d had their chance. 

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

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

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

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

If you were dead, he failed. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maybe there was hope left. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“A fish.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

No human can keep a plant looking that pristine. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your eyes narrowed in on one and you clicked FUCKINGPASSWORD. 

Welcome back, Lieutenant. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She would be deactivated. 

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

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

COMPASSIONATE

COMMANDING

DEESCALATE

EXECUTE DEFENSE PROTOCOL

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kill anyone who gets in his way. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His orders flickered into vision. 

COMPLETE MISSION

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

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

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

“What do we do?” 

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

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

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

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

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

HOW ABOUT A NUKE IS SO AMAZINGGGG I LOVE IT!!!! The way you write both eras(?) of coop is perfect!! I’m glad you not just skimming over what happened to reader as well I feel like that happens all too often in fics and I can’t imagine how traumatising it would be to go through that and then the man you like lowkey loved is suddenly so different??? You write it PERFECTLY!!! Can’t wait to see where it goes and hopefully coop will find that piece of him that loves the reader and have a little bit of sympathy but who knows with him lol again AMAZING writing and I can’t wait for the next part!!!

First, thank you so much for this, all the comments and messages I’ve been getting have been such wonderful confidence boosts for my writing.

Also, I pride myself on trying to stay true to proper characterization, I think respecting the creators vision and original ideas when writing fan fiction is really important to creating an engaging story. So this was a really nice message to receive because I’ve worried I haven’t been doing his character justice with this story. I also think it’s really important not to skim over just how jarring waking up into an apocalypse would be, I don’t think anyone would really react well to that lol

The next part is out, but it’s definitely not getting to any of the happy bits yet, it’ll happen

Eventually

Broken Machinery

Pt. 3 (completed series)

Series masterlist

Connor RK800 x fem!reader

A/N: I can’t write parkour without thinking of Michael & Dwight in the office

Content Warnings: Cussing (duh), pigeon crap, Hank’s emotional constipation plus the detective’s, parkour!, weird attraction to ties on men

Word Count: 4.2k

Series Summary: You and your grumpy partner Anderson gain a new addition to the team. He’s supposed to be CyberLife’s best, but there’s something not quite right with his programming, and the problems seem to revolve around you.

“Oh come on, Hank! There’s literally a million nicer places to eat.” You crossed your arms and sank into your seat at the sight of Hank’s favorite ‘restaurant’ Chicken Feed. Slightly wincing at the still present ache in your ribs.

He turned around in his seat and scolded you like a child. “My car, my rules.”

You scoffed, “First, Connor takes my seat and now I don’t even get to eat lunch.” You were being childish, you knew that.

Still, it was beyond aggravating when Hank had stopped you from getting up front and let Connor in the passenger side. And now you were at your least favorite place to eat ever!

What the hell am I being punished for?

“If you weren’t acting like a brat, you could eat lunch. But, fine! Stay in the car! The fuck do I care?” Tears pricked your eyes at the last whispered comment.

It was hard, it was hard watching him become so distant to you. You used to be a lot closer, before everything happened.

Y/N’s eyes were watering and her heart rate was increasing. She was distressed by something, but Connor was unsure of what that was.

He looked out the window and scanned the food truck. “Is Lieutenant Anderson aware of the numerous health violations the owner has committed?”

You scooted your way to the door and whispered, “Why do you think I don’t want to eat here?” The door had slammed closed before he could answer.

RECONCILE WITH THE OFFICERS

Connor got out of the car and stood. After a scan of the environment he was directed in two different directions. You were standing at a table under an umbrella, hunched over and picking at your nails. Lieutenant Anderson was speaking to two known criminals.

“Like a fucking poodle,” Connor ignored Hank’s comment.

“Is everything okay, Y/N?” You seemed surprised that he had chosen to speak with you. “You seem… distressed.” You glanced briefly towards Hank, he appeared to be paying a bookie. “Is it your relationship with the Lieutenant?”

You smiled at Connor, “You know, you’re a bit too observant for your own good.” Connor stood across from you at the table.

“May I ask you a personal question, detective?”

You frowned at him, “I feel like you’re going to no matter what.” Connor nodded his head. He would, he needs you and the Lieutenant to get along better. Right now your interpersonal issues were getting in the way of his mission.

“Why does the Lieutenant make you so angry?”

You went back to picking at your cuticles. Your right thumb had a scab that told Connor this was a common habit for you. It wasn’t entirely harmful but he still felt the need to stop you as you picked at your skin. His hand reached out and gently separated yours.

SOFTWARE INSTABILITY^

Your hand stayed in his, and he wasn’t sure if you were aware that you were squeezing it. You opened your mouth to say something, for some reason Connor felt the need to stop you. “Would you like to go get something to eat, detective?”

You quickly closed your mouth and gave Connor a strange look. You smiled at him, “Sure, I’d like that.” Your hand dropped from his and you began leading him down the sidewalk.

Unknowingly the hand you had held flexed by his side.

SOFTWARE INSTABILITY^

“Are you in much pain, Y/N?” You waved off Connor’s question. You’d stopped by a 24/7 market and had picked up an ice pack and questionable veggie sandwich. It was either that or egg salad, you’d take your chances with the spinach.

Right now you were sitting outside on a bench holding the ice pack to your sore ribs. “It’s not too bad, I’ve had worse.” I want to lay down and cry somewhere, this hurts so bad.

Connor stopped moving for a moment and then spoke again, “I’m not seeing any cracked ribs or internal damage, they’re just bruised. I recommend you try not to overexert yourself.”

“So he’s a detective and a doctor, really giving Barbie a run for her money.” If androids could be sassy that’s the only way you’d describe Connors face right now. He’s frowning at you and brushing your hands away from the ice pack, holding it up for you so you can eat your food. You really hope he can’t tell how fast your heart is beating with how close he is, or notice the shake in your hands as you take a bite of the sandwich.

“I posses enough first aid skills to take care of my partners if they’re injured in the field.”

That’s actually helpful, Hank’s shit at patching you up. “That makes me happy, the only thing Hank knows how to do is slap a band-aid on a bullet wound and call it a day.” Connor frowns at you again, the little groove appearing between his brows once more. You’re tempted to reach out and soothe it with your thumb.

“That’s highly illogical and dangerous.”

You laughed at him, “It was a joke, Connor. Did those geniuses at CyberLife not program you with humor?”

“It wouldn’t be beneficial to my mission.”

Good lord. He takes everything way too seriously.

“Well maybe you should watch some stand-up or something. I need someone to understand me.” You weren’t being serious. But he seemed to think you were.

“I’ll take your recommendation into account.” You finished the rest of your lunch in relative silence, but there was an overwhelming tension surrounding the two of you. You were most likely projecting, you weren’t even sure androids could feel tension.

However, you felt like he was waiting to ask you something and you were sure whatever it was wasn’t going to be a pleasant topic for you. Connor didn’t seem to have a good grasp of boundaries or when to stop talking.

He waited until you finished your sandwich to take the ice pack off your chest. “You don’t want to ice it for too long, it will cause more harm.” He put the ice pack down and paused. You waited for him to say what he wanted to say, you definitely weren’t going to be the one to initiate whatever probing line of questions he was about to ask. Connor reaches up and fixes his tie before he turns towards you. His jaw is set and there’s a determined look on his face-

Dude! You have major issues. A tie! A tie is what gets you going now?

Lord I pray to you for forgiveness.

“I’ve looked into both yours and the Lieutenant’s personnel records-“

“Wait, what?” He’s undeterred by your interruption, but you’re a little freaked out that he can just dig around in your past.

“It seems that Lieutenant Anderson became your official legal guardian in 2023, when you were ten years old. You had been in the state’s care for two years before he caught your foster father dealing Red Ice and he-“

“Stop! Connor, stop. What the hell?” You’d already gotten your ass handed to you today, you sure as hell didn’t need Connor bringing this all up right now. You didn’t want to remember how Hank found you, or what a piece of shit your foster family had been.

You didn’t want to think about this at all. You could already feel the dread and anxiety swirling around and forming acid in your stomach. What you really didn’t need today was a panic attack.

“You have absolutely no right, no right, investigating me like that. And you especially don’t have the right to acquire sealed adoption papers. I know about my own past Connor, Hank made sure that no one else would be able to find out about it. Fuck, I cannot believe you!” You threw the rest of your sandwich away, knowing you wouldn’t be able to eat it, and got off the bench. You ignored the sound of Connor’s voice and the pain in your ribs as you stormed off.

Hank was waiting under an umbrella for the two of you. “Where’d you go?” Your adrenaline was slowly leaving you, you didn’t have the energy to fully answer him. Slumped on the table you shrugged your shoulders and wrapped an arm around your ribs. “Does it hurt a lot?”

A snarky response was on the tip of your tongue, you had to physically bite your tongue to hold it back. It wasn’t often that Hank would show genuine concern for you. “It’s not great, but I’ve had worse.” There was an awkward pause where the both of you were unsure how to continue. Conversations without any venom or hostility were few and far between lately. It was leaving you both feeling stiff and uncomfortable.

“You’re tough. . .” His hand hovered over your back before coming down a little too hard on it, you wheezed out at the impact. “You’ll be okay.”

You regretted the next words that came out as soon as it happened. “Thanks, dad.” The both of you tensed and you forced yourself to straighten immediately, ignoring the pain. Anxiety caused your chest to tighten and you opened your mouth to apologize. But you found that you couldn’t force the words out, frozen by the desire for him to act like everything was normal.

There was a primal desperation inside of you that yearned for him to just hug you, or tell you that he's sorry and everything will be okay. Anything, anything other than that god awful look he was giving you right now. The one that made you feel like a stranger. It was void of any connection he’d ever had with you.

Your mouth closed and you hunched back into yourself, trying and failing at getting your jacket to swallow you. You were still a little pissed off at Connor for being so invasive, but that feeling was greatly overruled by the gratefulness you felt at his sudden appearance.

You kept your head down, avoiding looking at either of them and distracting yourself by picking at the broken skin around your nails. You’d never been more desperate for a cigarette, even though you’d broken the habit years ago.

Connor almost reached out towards your hands to stop the unhealthy habit, but the look on Hank’s face stopped him. He was staring down at you with an emotion Connor was having trouble recognizing. Perhaps it was sadness, or just another complication of working with humans. You were proving to be much more inefficient than he’d like.

He turned his attention towards the sandwich in Hank’s hand. “Your meal contains 1.4 times the recommended daily intake of calories and twice the cholesterol level. You shouldn’t eat that.”

Hank shrugged, “You sound like Y/N, I keep telling her, ‘everybodys gotta die of something.’” He pointedly took a larger than necessary bite. If Connor had feelings he assumed he would be feeling frustrated right now. Having two partners with such a strange relationship was tedious enough, having one with no care for his health was proving to be a challenge in his mission.

Connor turned his attention back towards the two men by the food truck. Surely the Lieutenant would be interested in their illicit activities, “I don’t mean to alarm you Lieutenant but I think your friends are engaged in . . .” He lowered his voice, “illegal activities.”

“As long as they’re not hurting anybody, I dont bother ‘em.” The lieutenant's administration of the law was perplexing to Connor. Did he actually care about catching criminals? Or had he given up? His blatant disrespect towards his captain and his partner led Connor to believing the latter.

“This morning when we were chasing this deviants. Why didn’t you want me to cross the highway?”

Hank looked at Connor like he was malfunctioning. “‘Cause you could’ve been killed… And I don’t like filling out paperwork for damaged equipment.”

You snorted, the first noise you’d made since this conversation had started, but said nothing else. “Is there anything you’d like to know about me?”

Hank was quick to answer, “Hell no! Well, yeah, why did they make you look so goofy and give you that weird voice?” You lifted your head and glared at Hank, “Jesus, Hank.” Hank looked down at you and shrugged his shoulders, seemingly not understanding why you were angry.

“CyberLife androids are designed to work harmoniously with humans. Both my appearance and voice were specifically designed to facilitate my integration.”

Hank nodded and Connor thought maybe he was finally warming up to him, “Well, they fucked up.”

“I think he’s cute.” Connor looked at you, from your hunched position he could see your eyes go wide and your body heat rising. Your heart had started beating dangerously fast and you looked faint. Hank was giving you a long look before he just shook his head, “I’m sure you do.” You ignored Hank and slouched further into yourself.

You cleared your throat and quickly looked up at Connor, before your eyes went back down to your hands. “Maybe you should tell us what you know about deviants.”

SOFTWARE INSTABILITY^

Connor blinked the message away. “We believe a mutation occurs in the software of some androids, which can lead to them emulating a human emotion.” Hank interrupted him, “In english please.”

Connor’s software quickly worked to give him a dialogue option more geared towards those of lower IQ’s. “They don’t really feel emotions, they just get overwhelmed by irrational instructions, which can lead to unpredictable behavior.”

“Emotions fuck everything up.” Your words were clearly only meant for yourself, but Connor had an auditory processor that was ten times more efficient than human hearing. You looked up at Connor, your eyes narrowed and your posture aggressively defensive. “You ever dealt with deviants before?”

He nodded, recalling the hostage situation, “A few months back… A deviant was threatening to jump off the roof with a little girl… I managed to save her.”

Your head tilted and your shoulders went slack. “And the deviant?”

“Destroyed at the scene.”

You lied to me Connor.

SOFTWARE INSTABILITY^

“So, you’ve done your homework right, know everything there is to know about me?” Connor glanced towards you, you had stolen a fry from the Lieutenant and were making a point not to look at him.

“I know the both of you graduated top of your class, you became the youngest lieutenant in Detroit and Y/N followed in your footsteps becoming the youngest detective in the DPD. You, Lieutenant Anderson have received several disciplinary warnings in recent years and you spend a lot of time in bars.”

“Understatement of the year,” you shook your head and stole another fry.

“And you detective, have received several disciplinary warnings and citations for starting fights, especially with Detective Gavin Reed.”

You frowned and whispered, “Oh, look at me, I found a few files.” You raised your voice and glared at Connor, “Whoopdie-freaking-doo, you searched through our personnel files. You shouldn’t even have access to those.”

Hank ignored you, “So what’s your conclusion?”

“I know you’re both experienced officers, and I’d like to earn your trust. I’m sure if we all work together we can solve this case. But that requires the both of you to be civil with each other.” You opened your mouth, presumably to defend yourself but Connor stopped you. “I just got a report of a suspected deviant. It’s a few blocks away. We should go have a look.”

Hank stuffed the rest of his sandwich in his mouth and threw the box in the trash. You trailed behind the two, Connor got into the back seat before either you or Hank could stop him. He needs the two of you to get along, the most likely way for that to happen is to force you both to acknowledge the other.

You glared at him, “I guess I’ve got shotgun.”

“Connor, let’s go.” Connor’s eyes shot open at the gentle tug on his sleeve. Hank was already out of the elevator but you were standing in front of him, waiting for him to go your head tilted towards the entrance of the elevator.

“You run out of batteries or what?” Your hand left his wrist and he followed after you.

SOFTWARE INSTABILITY^

“I’m sorry, Lieutenant, I was making a report to CyberLife.”

“That’s cool, you just close your eyes… and what?” Your head was tilted like his was when he had to recalibrate and choose a new approach.

“And I enter what you might call a ‘mind palace’ where I give my report to a CyberLIfe AI representative.”

“Damn, I wish my reports were that easy.”

Hank looked towards you, “What do we know about this guy?”

“Not much, just the information Connor gave us in the car.” Hank looked almost sheepish as he waited by the door of the apartment, you sighed. “You weren’t paying attention, were you?”

“What do you think?” His tone was incredibly bitchy.

“Don’t be a di-”

“A neighbor reported that he heard strange noises coming from this floor. Nobody’s supposed to be living here,” Connor stood from his examination of some feathers on the floor. “The neighbor said he saw a man hiding an LED under his cap.”

“Christ, if we have to investigate every time someone hears a strange noise, we’re gonna need more cops.” You nodded your agreement with Hank as you leaned against the wall. The tension from lunch had somewhat eased, but you still felt uncomfortable in your own skin around the other two. You just wanted to go home and take a warm bath and forget all about this afternoon.

Connor approached the door and knocked. When no one answered he looked to Hank for guidance, he just gave him a smug look and shrugged. He tried again, “Anybody home?” It was cute how he kept looking at Hank. You weren’t sure if he was looking for approval or assistance. “Open up! Detroit police!” And there’s that deep voice again, god it really did something for you. You tried to shift subtly in your spot and just kept picturing your old Barbie dolls. There’s nothing there, there is absolutely nothing there. He’s probably smooth like a Ken doll. Why would a police android need any nice bits? He wouldn’t, so get it together.

A noise in the apartment caught your attention. You stayed on your side of the door while Hank got in front, “Stay behind me.”

“Got it.” Hank looked at you, you pulled out your gun and gave him the go ahead. He busted through the door and you quickly followed behind, searching the area with your gun raised and briefly glancing into each room.

“Clear back here,” you waited for his voice.

“Same here.” You reached another door at the end of the hall and raised a hand to stop him, bouncing on your heels in excitement.

“Can I do it this time, please, please?” Hank gave you a long suffering sigh before he finally moved to the side and nodded. You braced yourself and kicked the door out of the frame-

“The fuck is this?!” You’ve never heard your voice that high before, but it was hard to focus on the embarrassing crack in your voice when you’re getting attacked by fucking pigeons!

By the time you’d managed to wave them all off you, Hank was doubled over laughing his ass off and Connor was brushing a feather off your shoulder. He offered you a hand up from where you’d fallen on your ass in shock.

You really wished he would stop doing that.

It’s the little things that are tricking your heart into believing that something more could come from this partnership. His help off a fence, stopping you from picking at your hands, the small touches to your back or shoulder when he passed you. You were lonely and desperate for any form of connection or love. The fact that you were even projecting that onto an android made shame boil in your stomach and a heavy feeling weigh on your shoulders.

When Hank had recovered from laughing at you he finally took notice of the emptiness of the apartment. “Looks like we’ve come for nothing, our man’s gone.”

“We should still look around, he might be back. At the very least see if he was even an android.” Hank doesn’t look too happy staying in the shit-covered apartment, but he keeps his grumbling to a minimum. You find a strange coded book in a hole in a wall. “Connor, do you understand any of this? Is it like… binary code or something?” You swear to god he actually scoffs at you.

“No, it’s some sort of codex, but it’s indecipherable.” You tell him to keep it, maybe he can figure out what to do with it. You’re getting a bit frustrated, the pigeons keep pecking at your hands and feet and it looks like whoever was living here is long gone. You give up on your search and go stand near an armchair, watching Connor slowly make his way around the apartment.

You let out a long breath and tap your feet impatiently. There’s a build up of anxiety and tension that makes you want to move, do something, anything other than just standing here watching Connor. He informs you there’s thirirum and LED in the bathroom, you couldn’t care less. Your neck feels strained from being hunched in irritation and anger all day. You pull your shoulders down and slowly rolling your neck around, you make the fatal mistake of looking up. Straight into the eyes of the deviant.

“Oh shit-”

Feet first into your already damaged ribs, the air slams out of you in a way that makes you feel like your lungs have collapsed. Your head has gone cold from how hard it reverberated off the ground. Your eyes are buzzing and you can vaguely see two shapes standing over you. One shoves the other, “What are you waiting for, catch it!” A rough hand moves under your shoulders and lifts you up.

“Y/N? Y/N?!” A groan slips out when those hands start shaking you. You blindly slap them away.

“Fuck off, you’re gonna give me a second concussion.” Hank helps you struggle to your feet, your arms gripping onto his forearms. You allow yourself five seconds to recover before you’re shoving off Hank and stumbling down the hall. You slam into the wall a couple of times, you can hear Hank shouting after you but you refuse to let him stop you, evading his reaching hands and shouts of warning. You throw yourself over a fallen cabinet and shove out the door. The light momentarily blinds you and then you see Connor chasing the deviant through a field of wheat and you’re off.

You’re only a couple of yards behind them and shocking yourself with how well you’re doing leaping on and off buildings. You shove your way through the workers blocking the greenhouses and leap over the plants on the table, making your way out of the greenhouse and heading towards the edge of the roof.

Your arms start circling frantically as you attempt to catch your balance. You can do this, you can so totally do this. That one gymnastics class you took when you were twelve was about to come in real handy. “Y/N, NO!” You back up and take a running leap, sliding down the glass ceiling and taking a rolling leap through the broken window.

“HOLY SHIT! WHOO!” You can’t stop yourself from raising your hands in victory and giving a celebratory jump into the air. How in the hell did I just do that? Your celebration is cut short by the sound of a crash.

Keep going

You're running through lavender, behind Connor and parkouring your way up a wall.

You ask yourself why you thought it was necessary to follow after him when you jump on a moving train. Then question changing jobs when you’re leaping off said train onto a fire escape. I better get a fucking raise for this shit.

Halfway through this little adventure you realized it would probably have been smarter to just let Connor go after him and take the long way round, but it was too late and the momentum was too much to stop.

The deviant catches you in a cornfield, body slams you like a linebacker and worsens whatever minor concussion you had into a major one. You can’t see for a couple of seconds as he drags you onto a roof.

“You can’t catch us both!” Connor whips around, there Rupert is standing, an arm's reach away from him. He’s standing on the ledge and in his hand is yours. The tips of your toes are barely grasping onto the ledge and your using both your arms to hold on as tight as possible to the deviant's arm. Your eyes are squeezed shut, your face has lost any color and he can see you trying as hard as possible to keep holding on. The only thing keeping you from being a puddle on the pavement is android strength.

Connor can hear Hank coming up the stairs, there’s only a 40% chance you might survive if he lets you fall.

You force one eye open, it’s all you can manage when you’re looking down at certain death. “Choose wisely.” Both eyes shoot open and you open your mouth to beg, plead, do anything to keep you alive and not be dropped right here and now.

Too late. He’s already pushed you back, you get a sense of deja vu as your arms circle around you wildly, reaching out for something to grab onto. For a moment you feel hope ignite in your chest, Connor is right in front of you and then he’s not.

You can’t see much else besides the blue sky as you fall.

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