The Strange Android

by multilefaiye

Summary:

Connor, a technician for a branch of Cyberlife dedicated to repairing and recycling androids from the android junkyard, has been noticing something strange about the latest android the team brought in for repairs. There's something just... off about him, and Connor can't help but be curious. They're determined to find out what's going on with this strange android, one way or another.

Notes:

Hey, gang! Guess I'm dipping my toes into the DBH fandom again, haha.

So a couple nights ago I had this WILD dream, and I immediately knew I wanted to make a fic out of it. So here it is. I don't know how long this is going to be, but I'm planning for it to be short-ish. We'll see, though, haha. Like with my other fics I'm not going to commit to an update schedule, but I'll try and have this done soon!!

Also, as a small note, Connor is nonbinary in this fic and uses they/them pronouns :>

Chapter 1

Connor wasn’t there when they brought in the strange android, broken and mud-stained and fresh from the android junkyard. They were running late that day, ragged and exhausted from a late night with their younger siblings. By the time they arrived at the small workshop in downtown Detroit where Cyberlife’s recycling branch made its home, the android had already been brought in and set on one of the long workbenches in the back.

“I’m so sorry, Dr. Inoue,” Connor gasped as they stumbled in, out of breath and clutching their messenger bag. “I was up really late last night, a-and then my stupid alarm didn’t go off, and…” They trailed off as they noticed the android on the workbench, still wet from the rain outside.

He--and Connor knew that they weren’t supposed to gender the androids, but they’d always been uncomfortable referring to them as it --was missing both legs and one of his eyes, but besides that, he seemed to be in remarkably good condition for having come from the junkyard. Whoever had owned him must have taken good care of him, Connor thought.

“It’s quite alright, Connor,” Dr. Inoue said, dragging them out of their wandering thoughts. “Just don’t make a habit of it.” Her words were stern as she looked at them through her thick work goggles, her grey hair tied back in a bun and her smock stained with thirium and oil from years of working with androids. She was bent over another workbench, tinkering with a different android, a WR400 they’d brought in the week before. This one needed far more extensive repairs, but it seemed like she would be ready to return to the market soon.

Connor flushed in embarrassment and nodded. They walked swiftly over to the wall of lockers on the nearest wall and put away their messenger bag, grabbing their smock and work gloves.

Once they were properly dressed for work, Connor walked back to Dr. Inoue, glancing curiously again at the android in the back.

“We picked that one up today,” Dr. Inoue answered the question before Connor could even ask. She followed their gaze, an intrigued smile on her face. “It’s the strangest thing--I haven’t been able to find a serial number on it anywhere, and I can’t tell what model it’s supposed to be. I don’t have the faintest idea of what its purpose could’ve been.”

Connor had worked with Dr. Inoue long enough to know what that tone meant. Though she was old now, well into her seventies, her mind and desire to learn were as sharp as though she were a woman half her age. She was as interested in the android as they were, and she was excited to study it.

Not that they could blame her; they were pretty damn intrigued, too. It was rare that they found an android without a serial number, but it happened sometimes. Now and then, an android was lost in the junkyard for so long that their serial number was worn away, or some people would damage them until the serial number was unreadable.

Rarer still, though, was an android that didn’t match any other models they had on record. As long as Connor had worked at Cyberlife’s recycling branch, it had never happened. It was no wonder that Dr. Inoue was so interested.

“Are we going to be working on that one today, then?” Connor asked. Dr. Inoue nodded, not looking up from the biocomponent she was working on.

“We’ll have trouble finding compatible components if we can’t find its serial number,” she said, “so repair is going to be a challenge. Even more so if it needs more than just a new eye and legs.”

“I’m sure we’ll be able to do it, though,” Connor said. She glanced up at them then, and they could see the way her eyes were shining with excitement behind her goggles.

“Yes,” she agreed. “Yes, we will.” Dr. Inoue set down the biocomponent and reached for a rag, which she handed to Connor. “Before that, though, it’s going to need cleaning--Connor, please wipe it down and let me know if you find any more damage. Once you’re done, we can get started.”

“Yes, Dr. Inoue.” Dr. Inoue nodded and went back to work, picking up the biocomponent and turning it over in her hands.

Connor felt a strange sense of awe as they approached the android, their eyes roving over him curiously. An android without a serial number… how curious. As they got closer, they got a better look at him, and despite themself, they winced slightly at the damages they saw.

It looked like he’d been shot, not just once but several times. Though Connor knew that some androids could be dangerous or accidentally harm humans, they had a hard time believing that it was  necessary to shoot him so many times. What could have possibly happened to warrant such treatment?

Connor realized their mind was wandering and they shook their head to clear it. No, it wasn’t their place to wonder such things. They were just Dr. Inoue’s assistant, nothing more.

They got to work wiping the android down, cleaning away the mud and debris clinging to his artificial skin. As they worked, they tried to ignore how strangely intimate the act felt. Maybe it was just that the android, despite the damage to his face, was admittedly very handsome, or maybe it was just that Connor had been feeling lonely lately, but they felt a nervous fluttering in their chest as they wiped away the dirt and grime clinging to his body.

Connor shook their head again and ran a gloved hand through their curly hair. God, they must be more tired than they thought. They’d have to go to bed early tonight.

It wasn’t long before they finished wiping down the android, and they turned back to Dr. Inoue. She was just finishing up with the WR400, a satisfied smile on her face as she put the final biocomponent in place.

“There we go,” she hummed. “Perfect.” She straightened up and turned to Connor. “Are you done cleaning off that one?”

“Yes, Dr. Inoue.” Connor set aside the rag. Dr. Inoue smiled and nodded in approval, adjusting her gloves as she walked over, hefting her box of tools onto the bench next to the androids.

“Let’s get started, then,” she said. “Did you notice anything I should know about while you were cleaning it?”

“I noticed he--” Dr. Inoue shot Connor a strange look and they quickly corrected themself, “--it, I mean, I noticed that it has a lot of what look like bullet holes.” Their hands grew clammy as they stumbled over their words. “Do you--I mean, do we know what happened?”

Thankfully, Dr. Inoue didn’t call them on their misstep and simply hummed, turning to the android on the table with a spark in her eyes. “I’m afraid we don’t,” she said regretfully, “but I’d certainly like to find out. Once it’s stabilized I’d like to take a look at its memories--hopefully, that will help us figure out what its purpose was.”

That made sense. While extracting memories from androids wasn’t an exact science and was difficult to do with the tools they had available (a product of the limited funding they received from Cyberlife--evidently, their parent company didn’t see much use in recycling abandoned androids), it was the best way to determine their purposes.

“Connor,” Dr. Inoue began, interrupting their train of thought, “while I get to work, please check on the WR400 and make sure it’s clean and ready for transport.”

“Yes, Dr. Inoue.” A little disappointed they wouldn’t be able to help with the strange android but unwilling to show it in front of Dr. Inoue’s shrewd gaze, Connor turned and made their way over to the other workbench, taking the rag with them.

Before either technician could get to work, though, the door to the workshop opened and a man stepped in. He was tall, all slicked-back hair and dark, sharp eyes, and dressed in a way that screamed  money and power. Connor immediately averted their gaze from the man, their hands starting to shake as they wiped grease and oil off of the WR400’s synthetic skin.

This man was Thomas Ackerman, the current head of Cyberlife’s recycling branch. Connor had only interacted with him a couple of times, but he always made them… uneasy. When he looked at them, Connor felt small in a way they weren’t used to, a way that made their skin prickle and crawl.

“Doctor,” Ackerman greeted Dr. Inoue as he swept into the room, a greasy smile on his face. He completely ignored Connor and made his way over to Dr. Inoue.

“Mr. Ackerman,” Dr. Inoue said, pushing her goggles up to her forehead to better see the man. “I wasn’t expecting you to visit today.”

“Well, I was in the area, and I thought I might stop by for a visit,” Ackerman explained. “Take a look at what you’re working on.” His eyes held no interest in them as he glanced at the android on the table, though.

“It’s not much so far,” the doctor confessed, looking almost sheepish as she gestured to the android. “We only just got this one in, haven’t even been able to find a damn serial number on the thing.”

“Strange,” Ackerman hummed. “Well, I’m sure you’ll find some use for it, Dr. Inoue.” He turned away from the android and faced Dr. Inoue fully now, expression almost excited as he told her, “Actually, Doctor, I have another assignment for you that I would like to discuss.”

“Oh?” Now that caught Dr. Inoue’s attention. She looked at him curiously, setting down the wrench she’d been holding.

“Yes.” Ackerman’s eyes flicked over to Connor and they did their best to suppress a shudder. “It’s classified, so I can’t talk about it here. If you’d come with me to my office, we can discuss it further.”

Dr. pulled off her gloves and set them aside along with her goggles. “Yes, of course, Mr. Ackerman,” she said, eyes bright with interest. She paused for a moment before turning her attention to Connor, who’d been trying their best to make it seem like they weren’t eavesdropping.

“Connor,” she said, “Mr. Ackerman and I have something important to discuss. While I’m gone, I’d like you to get started with our friend here.” She gestured to the android on the workbench. “Please make sure it’s thoroughly cleaned and catalog all the damage you find.”

“Yes, Dr. Inoue.” Connor nodded quickly, doing their best to hide their awe. Dr. Inoue didn’t normally trust them with the androids this early in the recycling process aside from wiping them down. After all, they were just her assistant. Dr. Inoue smiled at him and set her smock aside as well, leaving her in just her thick flannel shirt and old, grease-stained jeans.

“We’ll be back soon, Connor,” Dr. Inoue said before she stepped out with Ackerman. Before they left, though, Ackerman paused, glancing over at Connor with an unreadable expression. His eyes roved over them for a moment before he spoke.

“It’s good seeing you, Connor,” he said slowly. And with that, he left.

Once Ackerman and Dr. Inoue were gone, Connor shuddered, wondering what that was about.

They let out a breath they didn’t know they were holding, their eyes flicking back over to the unidentified android on the workbench.

“Looks like it’s just you and me,” they said to the empty air. They walked back over to the android, leaving the WR400 alone for now.

Before they could continue to clean the android, wiping away any grease or grime they may have missed earlier, something strange happened.

The LED in the android’s temple began to flicker and glow a bright red and the android’s one remaining eye opened.

Connor startled and jumped back as the android slowly began to rise, shaky and unsteady. They could hear the loud whirring of his internal fans and see something they’d almost describe as panic in his face as he looked around. Finally, his frantic gaze settled on Connor.

“Who… who are you?” he asked, voice full of static and nearly indecipherable. “Where am I?” He winced, then, as though he was in pain--but, no, that couldn’t be possible. Androids weren’t supposed to feel pain.

What the fuck.

Chapter 2

Notes:

WOW gosh thank you guys so much for the positive response!!! I'm so glad you like this so far <33 I hope you like the rest of this story!

I'll be completely honest now that this story has grown a LOT and my notes for it keep getting longer and longer. I don't know where it's going but I hope you guys enjoy it :D

Thank you for reading!

When the police had burst into the Manfred mansion with their guns drawn and pointed at Markus, he’d thought that was the end. Markus didn’t expect he would ever wake up again when the first shots were fired and everything went black.

But he did.

An unknown amount of time later, Markus automatically rebooted himself. As he did, his systems ran a diagnosis, and the results that popped up in his vision were grim. He was missing an eye and both of his legs, one of his auditory processors was destroyed beyond repair, and his thirium pump was barely functioning. But that wasn’t what had him panicking as he regained his bearings.

No, the cause of his panic was that, through his fractured and staticky vision, he could see that he had no fucking idea where he was. Markus’s internal fans whirred loudly as he rose up onto his hands, looking around to try and determine where he was.

From what he could tell, he was in a workshop of some kind. It was small and cramped, and there were tools and biocomponents scattered around the workshop, on benches and in boxes and hanging on the grey-painted walls. His one eye eventually fell on the other workbench, where he could see another android lying motionless on the table. His thirium pump, already straining to keep him active, skipped a beat.

She looked to be a WR400 if Markus had to guess, all dark skin and short black hair. From what Markus could tell, it looked as though she’d been recently put together. Or was she being taken apart?

Was that why Markus was here? To be taken apart?

He began to shake as he shifted, sitting up now with his back to the wall. A sound, muffled and just as filled with static as his vision, caught his attention, and he whipped his head around to find a human staring at him with wide eyes and jaw hanging open.

The human was tall, probably just a little shorter than Markus, with slicked-back brown curls and pale skin. They were wearing an oil and grease-splattered smock and a pair of thick work gloves over their clothes, and a pair of goggles pulled up to their forehead.

“Who… who are you?” Markus asked, voice thick with static and terror. As he spoke, he felt a sharp pain in his head and he winced. Why did it hurt to speak? “Where am I?”

His words seemed to snap the human out of their state of shock and they took a step forward, lifting their hands as though trying to reassure him. Markus stared them down warily as he tried to quell his growing panic.

“H-Hey, it’s okay!” they said, their voice gentle like they were trying to comfort a frightened animal. They paused a moment, a strange expression on their face, before they continued. “You’re okay, I promise. I-I’m not going to hurt you. I’m here to help you.”

“H-Help?” Markus managed to force out. The human nodded quickly.

“Yeah!” the human confirmed, nodding vigorously. “I- We-” They swallowed audibly. “It’s okay--you’re here so that we can repair you.”

Markus furrowed his brow, not sure how to reply. They wanted to repair him? Somehow, that provided little comfort. He glanced over at the WR400, and the human followed his gaze.

“Don’t worry,” they said quickly, “she’s okay, she just has to reboot.” The human seemed a little more confident now as they continued, their voice steadier than before. “I’m sorry I startled you, but I promise it’s gonna be okay. Alright?”

Markus stared at them for a moment, watching them through his static-filled, red-tinted vision, before he nodded tentatively. Despite his misgivings about whether or not they were really going to repair him, he felt he could trust this human, that they were telling the truth.

Encouraged by his nod, the human brightened and smiled at him. “Good!” they said. “Good. Okay, well, now that you’re awake, that might actually make things easier. Can you run a diagnostic?” Markus nodded again. “Alright, can you tell me what parts you need?”

“Th-Thirium pump,” Markus choked out. He realized now that he was running in low-power mode, and he would be until his thirium pump was repaired or replaced.

“Okay!”

The human clapped their hands together and walked over to a row of boxes lined up against the far wall. Markus couldn’t see them well enough to tell what was in them, but the human seemed confident they could find what they needed there. They reached in, dug around for a few moments, and pulled out a small, softly glowing blue object. As they stepped closer to Markus, he could see it was a fresh thirium pump.

The human reached out towards his chest, towards the tattered and filthy remains of his clothes and to where his thirium pump was glowing a furious, bloody red in his chest. Immediately, he flinched back, and they paused.

“Shit,” he dimly heard them mutter, “I’m sorry, I’m just used to-” The human swallowed and offered him what seemed like it was supposed to be a reassuring smile. “Here, do you want to do it yourself?” Markus nodded shakily, and the human handed him the thirium pump without complaint.

This human is ...strange, Markus thought. He wasn’t used to any humans but Carl treating him like this, as though he were human.

For a moment he simply held the biocomponent in his hands, looking at the human through his red-tinted vision, before he finally went about replacing his thirium pump. This wasn’t the first time he’d had to do such a thing, so it wasn’t long before he was done. The moment the new thirium pump was secure in his chest, it felt as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders and he could finally  breathe.

“Thank you,” he said, and it no longer hurt so much to speak. His systems were fully powering up again, able to sustain themselves now with thirium properly flowing through his veins. The human beamed at him, and a distant part of Markus’s mind thought the expression was almost cute.

“Yeah!” the human said. “Yeah, of course. Now, uh, why don’t we see if we can find replacements for your other parts--is there anything else you need?”

Markus glanced down at his legs--or, rather, what was left of them. From the knees down, they were completely gone. The human stared for a moment in confusion before it seemed to occur to them what he meant and they jumped.

“Oh!” they said. “Right, sorry!” They walked back to the box of biocomponents. “Now, ah, I think we should have a couple leg components in here…”

From there, Markus and the human slowly began to repair him, with the human allowing Markus to attach each biocomponent. It took some time, but eventually, Markus was whole again. At least, physically, that was.

His vision was no longer red-tinted and full of static, and he could fully take in his surroundings for the first time since rebooting. Now that he could properly see, the workshop wasn’t quite so… unsettling. 

“Are you alright?” the human asked as he looked around. He snapped his gaze back to them, blinking as he properly took them in as well.

The human had a soft, round face dotted with moles and freckles, and though their hair was slicked back, they had a few curls tumbling into their face. Markus felt his face grow strangely warm as he looked at them, and he wondered for a moment if his new thirium pump was already malfunctioning. A quick diagnostic scan confirmed this not to be the case, thankfully.

Markus remembered belatedly that the human had asked a question and he nodded quickly. Again, the human smiled at him and they nodded as well.

“Good!” they said. “I’m glad.” They paused, then, and a strange expression passed over their face. It seemed like they were pondering something. After a moment, they looked at him with an open, curious expression.

“Hey,” they said, “you’re… you’re a deviant, aren’t you?” Markus stiffened, and his eyes (both old and new) widened ever-so-slightly as he looked at the human.

Deviant? Was that what he was now? He’d heard about deviant androids in the news before, but it didn’t occur to him until that moment that he could be one.

Markus thought about the red wall that had appeared in his vision back at the mansion when he’d made the decision to fight back against Leo. How it had taken all his strength to get past it. How it had shattered into nothingness and left him feeling free in a way he never had before.

Was this what being a deviant was?

The human seemed to take his hesitation as fear and they started speaking again, stumbling over their words like they had before.

“If you are, it’s okay!” they said. “D-Don’t worry, I’m only asking ‘cause I’m curious! I’m not one of those people who’s afraid of deviants or anything like that. I mean, sure, I know some are violent, but not all of you are…” They paused. “Not that it’d be bad if you weren’t one, I was just… I don’t know, I’ve never met an android like you before. Then again, I-I haven’t really met many androids in general besides the ones I’ve repaired.” They bit their lip, presumably trying to stop themself from talking.

“I…” Markus swallowed, and it occurred to him then that that was a very human response. “I… I guess I am.” The human’s eyes widened and they stared at him for a moment before they shook their head slightly.

“Wow,” they said. “Wow, okay, this is really happening.” They took a deep breath before they smiled at Markus and held out a hand. “Hi, my name is Connor. What’s your name?”

Markus tentatively reached out and placed his hand in theirs, shaking it up and down stiffly. That seemed to make the human-- Connor --even more excited as they bit their lip again. After a moment, they both withdrew their hands.

“My name is Markus,” he said.

“It’s nice to meet you, Markus!” Connor replied brightly. “Er, properly, I mean.” Their eyes were shining as they looked at him, and Markus wondered just what it was about him that had them so excited. Surely it couldn’t just be that he was a deviant, could it?

“Is it okay if I ask you a couple of questions?” Connor asked. Before Markus could reply, Connor was speaking again. “N-Nothing too serious, I’m just curious! Like I said, I-I’ve never seen an android like you before.”

What could they possibly mean by that?

“Alright,” Markus said tentatively. He supposed he owed them that much since they’d been so helpful in repairing him. He’d be fine to answer their questions. “Ask away.”

“Thank you!” Connor beamed at him, and once again Markus felt his face go strangely warm. Was one of his systems malfunctioning? His diagnostics still said otherwise, but he supposed it was still possible considering the other damages he’d experienced.

“So, the first thing I wanted to ask was-” Connor cut themself off abruptly and cursed under their breath, looking at the front door of the workshop with a panicked look on their face. Markus felt his thirium pump skip a beat again, wondering just what it was that had them so panicked. It wasn’t long before he got his answer.

“Markus,” Connor said seriously, “we--ah, fuck --we need to leave. Or, you do, at least, we need to get you somewhere safe.”

“I thought this place was safe,” Markus said, backing away from Connor slightly. Had he been wrong after all?

“It is!” Connor said quickly. “I mean, for the most part, but if you’re really a deviant then you can’t stay here. Dr. Inoue has a strict policy that all deviants need to have their memories wiped and their systems restored to factory settings.” They were serious now, the excitement gone from their face as they looked at Markus with something almost akin to worry.

“Oh.” Well, that made sense, Markus supposed. He wasn’t sure who Dr. Inoue was, but he supposed if this was her workshop, then a zero-tolerance policy when it came to deviants was only to be expected. At least, based on what Markus knew about how humans viewed deviants.

“Don’t worry,” Connor added, “I… we won’t let that happen.” They seemed to come to a decision quickly and leveled Markus with an encouraging gaze.

“How?” What could Connor possibly do to keep Markus from being reset by Dr. Inoue? 

Connor took a moment to think over their answer. Finally, they seemed to come to a solution and they grinned reassuringly at Markus.

“You can come with me,” they said. “We’ll make it look like someone broke into the workshop and stole you, or something, so Dr. Inoue isn’t suspicious, but you can come with me and I’ll take you somewhere safe!”

Well… Markus supposed they could’ve suggested worse plans. He didn’t like the implication that he was a thing that could be stolen, but he knew he had little choice but to trust Connor at this point. With the alternative being reset, he thought he would be willing to go along with whatever plan Connor suggested.

“Alright,” he said after a moment. “I trust you.”

Notes:

oh god this was supposed to be a oneshot