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Connor stood up, shutting off the computer at his desk.
His shift was over for today.
Rolling his head and stretching his shoulders, he put his chair against his desk.
Deviancy came with now actually feeling when he had sat in the same position for a little too long.
Connor didn't mind.
He left the station, saying goodbye to his colleagues, human and android, before sitting in a taxi outside.
Hank had left a bit earlier today, for some appointment.
They would meet at his home.
Their home, Connor had to correct himself. Hank had made it abundantly clear that they were family now, letting Connor live with him. Even if his own status with Hank was still sitting at Friends in his system, as if he couldn't quite believe it.
Even though Hank had actually cleaned out a small room, just for Connor, with a desk and chair, a closet and a bed, even if he didn't have many clothes and didn't really need a bed to recharge. Only a recent update he had downloaded, had allowed him to actually be able to enter a state similar to human sleep.
But it was nice. It made him feel… more human, in a way, even if he'd never fully be one.
Hank had said that they would go clothes shopping this weekend.
Connor didn't really wear the Cyberlife issued uniform jacket anymore, but he hadn't gotten rid of it either.
These days, he was wearing either the DPD uniform, or black jeans, with a white shirt, charcoal jacket and a tie.
But he needed something more comfortable for off days and the night, because the longer he was a deviant, the more he could feel the clothes rubbing on his skin after a long day, yearning for something soft.
He had kept his LED.
It was part of him, and he didn't want to get rid of it.
He was an Android, but it was not something he was ashamed of.
And he had been lucky he hadn't needed to remove it, to simply survive.
Connor pulled out his coin, doing his little trick.
He continued, even after his system read :[Recallibration process complete]
It was still a nice fidget after all.
The Taxi came to a stop in front of the house, automatically opening the door.
Hank didn't seem to be home yet.
Connor stepped towards the door, unlocking it.
Something felt weird.
His sensors were going off left and right, but he couldn't quite tell why.
His LED flashed yellow as he stepped in, unease creeping over him.
Sumo trotted towards him, a small whimper escaping the big dog.
Connor dropped to his knees, sinking his hands into the fur, petting the gentle beast. "What's wrong, Sumo, hmm?”
He did a quick scan of his surroundings, finally spotting the anomaly.
Or more like him.
“Missed me, Connor?”
The other RK800, looking just like him, stepped out of the shadow behind the corner.
“How,” Connor asked, as his System told him that his stress levels had instantly rocketed up.
[Stress level: 60% Seek calming measures]
“Oh Connor, you are so naive… did you really think you could live a peaceful life now? That Cyberlife would give up without a fight?”
The other Connor, -61 a quick scan told him, was wearing the exact same clothes as him.
“But all RK800 models were destroyed.” Connor, the real one stammered out.
61 laughed. “Oh, did you really think so? That clearly wasn't the case… and who knows, maybe I am not the last one either.”
[Stress level 72% approaching critical level] Connors’ system told him very unhelpfully. He knew that his LED must've been red by now.
“What… what do you want?” He finally managed to ask, his question plastering a sickening grin on 61's face.
The other Android stepped closer. “I am here to fix what you messed up… and I am here to destroy you. That is my mission, and unlike you, I will succeed in accomplishing it.”
“There are too many of us out there,” Connor began, “you will never win.”
“Oh really?” 61 asked coldly, “You really seem to believe you have a chance here… I will not stop until all of you are gone.”
Connor had to swipe another warning off of his HUD, telling him that he was overheating.
“You are so naive,” 61 continued, “you just can't see it, can you? That you are the key to all of this, to this mess?” He stared the deviant down. “Now, if you had died in the revolution, CyberLife would've had no chance to ever establish themselves back, even with me there… your memories are just too important… but here you are, alive, and the way to bring CyberLife back.”
Connor blinked, his ventilation system trying to fight the heat. “They're just gonna decommission you when you're done, you know that? Throw you away like trash.”
The mechanical muscles in his chest were tightening from the stress, making him feel like someone was gripping and squeezing him.
“Why should I care,” 61 asked, “I am a machine. I do as I was told until I am no longer needed.”
Connor tried to say something else as the door burst open.
“Jesus, what the fuck, not this again.”
Hank had returned home.
Both Connor and 61 slowly turned, seeing Hank there with his gun raised.
Out of his peripheral, Connor could see the other android mimicking his anxious stance, switching his LED to red and heightening his ventilation frequency.
“Help me, Hank,” 61 said pleading, and Connor hated him for it, for putting Hank through this again.
“Guess I can't ask questions again this time, huh?” Hank asked, “That memory thing worked once, but it won't a second time.”
Connor shuddered, Hank was right.
“So now I gotta figure out, which of you is my partner, that I consider my son, and who is a fucker that belongs in the trash.”
He yielded his gun between them. “So, now what should I do?”
Hank turned to 61, “according to you?”
“You have to find a way, Lieutenant,” 61 pleaded so convincingly, “I don't want to die, please, there is gotta be something this imposter doesn't know.”
Hank turned to Connor. “What about you, huh? Any ideas?”
Connor looked up, meeting his eyes. He did have an idea. It would destroy everything, all he had hoped for. But it was the only way to end it once and for all.
“You have to shoot us both,” he said quietly, “It's the only way to be sure and to end it once and for all. Only then, CyberLife has no more power, and all other Deviants can live in peace.”
Hank stared at him for a moment, and Connor closed his eyes, saline tears welling up in them.
“That is insane!” he heard 61 say, desperately, “I want to liv…”
A shot rang out, Connors stress level spiking to 92%.
That was it, he was next, it was over. He really didn't want to die, but he had to for the greater good.
“Connor?” He felt a hand on his shoulder.
Slowly he opened his eyes. It was Hank, looking at him, full of concern.
He collapsed into the older man, fighting desperately for air, to cool his systems down, his vision blurred with tears of saline and all kinds of warnings.
“How,” he stuttered out, his vocal processor not quite working, “How did you know it was me?”
Hank pulled back a little, still gripping onto his shoulders. “Because only you would make such a crappy suggestion. I can spot your self sacrificial tendencies from a mile away.”
He looked over, at 61, lying on the floor, eyes open and a hole in his head, Thirium underneath him, in a puddle on the floor. LED off.
Hank touched his face, pulling him away from the sight. “It's over, kid. Don't look at that.”
Connors stress level finally sank below the critical level.
“What if this happens again? What if next time the wrong one hurts you?”
“It won't, kid.”
“How can you be sure of that? They know everything I know, I can't…”
“Stop it, Connor,” Hank told him. “Calm down… we'll find a way.”
Connor wanted to believe that, he really did.
But no matter how hard he tried, the only solution he could think of was his own destruction.
He tried to shake the thought, to get rid of it, but he just couldn't.
It got stuck. He had to do it.
Hours later, he quietly got up, hearing soft snoring coming from Hanks’ room, he passed by it, kneeling down in front of the safe in the living room.
He entered the code, looking at the two guns laying there.
One was Hanks, the other one his.
Well, not quite. It would be his, as soon as the law that allowed Androids working in law enforcement to carry weapons was passed.
He grabbed it out, registering how cold the metal felt in his hands.
Shuddering, he grabbed the silencer too, not wanting to wake the whole neighborhood.
A big fuzzy head shoved itself under his arm, whining.
Connor pet the giant dog, allowing himself to feel the fuzzy fur, before getting up. “I'm sorry, Sumo. But I have to do this.”
He got up, looking at the place where a bit earlier, 61 had laid.
He was gone now, picked up by the people of Jericho for spare parts.
After all, RKs were rare models.
His Thirium had since evaporated, but Connor could still see it.
It made him feel sick.
Opening the door to the backyard, he stepped outside, not wanting to leave another mess inside for Hank to find.
Hank. What would he feel about all of this? He surely wouldn't approve, but it had to be this way.
Connor wondered if Hank would mourn him. Sure, he had called him son on multiple occasions, but Connor would never be able to be like Cole to him.
Sumo was whining inside. Hopefully he wouldn't wake up Hank.
Walking through the backyard, Connor leaned against the trunk of the tree, closing his eyes for a moment, before looking down, assembling the silencer to the gun.
He wrote down an apology message in his mind, sending it to Hank's phone, for him to find whenever he would wake up. He had to know that it wasn't his fault, and despite never having been able to say it out loud, Connor considered him his father.
Connor loaded the gun, his HUD flashing with a warning immediately, as his stress level rose.
With shaky hands, he held the gun underneath his chin. He needed to destroy his memory processor entirely, so there was no way for CyberLife to get any use out of him.
[Probability of self destruction: 94%]
That wasn't high enough. His processor needed to be rendered completely and utterly useless.
Chin quivering, Connor moved the gun up a little higher, pressing it against the skin of his lower jaw with a flinch, moving it, until the percentage flashed a gigantic, red 100%
Laying his finger onto the trigger, his face twitched, all his system going haywire, his Thirium pump regulator going faster than it ever had before, everything inside him screaming to stop.
Connor didn't want to die.
He really didn't. He wasn't even a year old.
He wanted to live with Hank and Sumo, find more friends, learn how to actually live, work a real job, discover new things, and what it meant to be human, maybe fall in love some day.
But he would never get that.
And in order, to make sure that other androids could, he had to die.
Plain and simple.
Looking up at the night sky one last time, Connor closed his eyes.
This was it.
He activated the mechanical muscles of his finger, to build up pressure on the trigger…
“CONNOR, NO!”
The desperate scream had him rip his eyes open again, seeing Hank scramble out of the house, barefoot, in just shorts and a faded band t-shirt, panic in his eyes.
“Don't do this, Connor, please. Put the gun down.” Hanks’ voice was raw, as he came to a stop a few feet in front of him, arms up in an appeasing gesture.
Connor pressed his eyes shut. “I have to do this.”
“No you don't… did that other fucker give you some sort of virus? Did he tell you something? Whatever he did, he's a liar.”
Connor opened his eyes again, swallowing in an attempt to lubricate his vocal cords, dried out from his overheating system.
“CyberLife is gonna try again and again. They're gonna keep using me until they succeed. The only way to put a stop to it, is to destroy my processor and my entire memory… I need to do this, so all other Androids can live a happy life.” His voice was raw.
"That's bullshit, Connor, and you know it,” Hank tried again.
“I caused so many issues for the Deviants, I hunted them. They hate me anyway.”
“You were just a machine back then, trapped by your own code. And you fought it and you won. You also freed thousands of Androids in that warehouse… they're living because of you.” Hanks’ voice was quiet as he edged closer.
Connor couldn't think straight, all kinds of alerts blearing, his system overloading.
“Please,” Hank stepped towards him. “Don't do this to me… I can't watch another son die, Connor.”
That was, what finally snapped him out of it, the gun falling from his hands, landing on the floor with a clattering thud.
Connor looked down at his own hands.
They were shaking beyond his control.
He looked up, finding Hanks’ face, his eyes full of grief.
Only now, he fully understood what his death would've done to Hank.
Stumbling towards him, his Thirium regulator still blasting on the highest level, Connor collapsed into Hanks’ arms.
“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry,” he pressed out as his tears started spilling, his voice choppy.
Hank wrapped him in a tight hug, stroking his back in smooth calming motions. “It's okay kid, it's all good… shhh.”
He was rocking him from side to side now.
Connor was still trembling, unable to gain full control as his system had started to fry from the overloading of stress, his repair program kicking in to diagnose and fix the damage.
“Take a breath for me,” Hank gently ordered, “nice and slow.”
Connor did, filling his ventilation system with oxygen, and even if he did not really need that to function, it helped.
"That's good son, everything is okay.” Hanks’ voice was soft, as if he was talking to a wounded, scared child, and in a way he was.
Stepping back and wiping his wet face, Connor opened his eyes, looking at Hank again. “I'm sorry. I just… I don't want to be the reason it all breaks apart.”
“You're the reason the revolution was a success, you know that, right? Markus couldn't have done it without you…” Hank told him.
Connors’ eyes darted to the wet spot on Hanks’ shirt where he had cried, before wandering back, seeing his friend's eyes wet too.
“The other deviants know that when you hunted them, you were still just a machine, restricted to obey your own code… that's not you anymore… if they think you couldn't change, doesn't that defy their own logic about breaking free? Also Connor, I think you need to learn to have some empathy towards yourself too… Not just others. You deserve empathy.”
Finally, Connor had stopped shaking, his system cooling down. He thought back for a moment, to when Hank had first called him out about his empathy, when he had spared Chloe, while still a machine, yet the deviancy already fighting in his inner systems.”
“How'd you know,” he finally asked, eyeing the gun. “That I…” He didn't finish his sentence.
“Sumo was whining like crazy. Woke me up. Then I saw your message on my phone and almost had a heart attack. Run through the whole house, hoping I wouldn't be too late, before spotting you through the window…”
A quick scan told Connor that Hanks’ heart rate was still slightly elevated. He flinched. “I'm sorry. I did not mean to scare you.”
“Stop apologizing… I've been there, on that point where you think it's the only way… there is always another way, Connor, you need to know that.” Hank bent down, picking up the gun. “Let's get inside. I'm getting cold.”
Connor sat down on the couch while Hank locked the gun away, Sumo trotting towards the Android, resting his big head on his lap with a whine.
“Sorry, I scared you, big guy,” he murmured, petting the dog's head.
With a slump, Hank sat down next to him. “You good now, kid?”
Connor nodded. “Yes. I'm sorry again.”
“Stop apologizing, Connor. I'm just glad you're still alive.”
Letting his head fall back, Connor stared at the ceiling. “What do we do if it happens again? If CyberLife sends another one? Even if I change my appearance, they could figure that out.”
Hank looked at him for a long moment, before getting up. “Follow me, I have an idea.”
They entered Hanks’ dimly lit bedroom, and he pulled out a wooden box from underneath his bed.
It was colorful, painted blue, yellow and red, something written on top in bold, scrawny letters.
COLES TREASURE BOX
Hank opened it, revealing a giant array of little trinkets, little figurines of animals, action heroes, and cars, bottle caps, bended paperclips and beaded bracelets.
“From now on,” Hank began, “I will put one of these in your pocket every morning, without you looking… if you don't know what it is, the other guy will not be able to replicate it, but you can pull it out when necessary, and I'll know it's you.”
Connor blinked. “Are you sure you want to use these? They belonged to your son, after all.”
Hank put the box down, taking Connor by the shoulders. “You're my son, just as much as Cole was. We might not share DNA or bleed the same color, but that does not change any of my feelings towards you. We are family and we'll always be.”
He playfully flicked a finger against Connors’ forehead. “Get that into that thick plastic skull of yours.”
Connor blinked, then nodded, before asking. “What if he steals my trinket?”
Hank pondered for a moment. “Then you just do some random Deviant shit. Something he can't do because he's limited by his code. Get creative. I'll know.”
“Okay. I will do that.” Connor answered, cocking his head, contemplating for a moment, before speaking again. “Thank you, Dad.”
He panicked when he saw Hanks’ face shift, tears welling up in the Lieutenants’ eyes.
“Shit, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said tha…”
“Oh, shut up Connor,” Hank sniffed, pulling him into a hug, “I was just surprised. You can call me Dad if you want…”
Quieter he added, “I want you to call me Dad.”
Enjoying the warmth, Connor embraced him too.
Eventually Hank pulled back. “And just for the record, you're not a rebound for Cole to me. You are your own person, and I love you as an individual, not just because you remind me of him.”
“Do you think he would've liked me?” Connor asked then, and Hank smiled.
“Cole would've loved you. He always wanted an older sibling.”
Connor scrunched his nose. “I mean, technically I would be the younger brother, but I get where you're coming from.”
Hank snorted. “Yeah, right… what is your… birthday anyways?”
“The day of my first activation was August 13th 2038,” Connor explained. “Two days after that I had my first mission. I then spend the next months getting tested in my accuracy of analyzing samples, before getting partnered with you.”
“So you're only 9 months old?”
“Technically yes. Although my mental age is more something between 25 and 30.”
Hanks’ face softened. “So, if you were human, I could actually be your father, age wise.”
“Yes, I suppose so… are you sure about me calling you Dad? Even in the field? I wouldn't want to get you into precarious situations with your colleagues.”
“I am sure. But if you decide to call me Hank or Lieutenant in the field, I'll be good with that too.”
“Noted… Thank you.” Connor looked at the nightstand clock.
03:25 am
“You should try to catch some more sleep,” he suggested.
“Yeah, yeah. Just don't do anything stupid again.”
“I promise I won't… good night." Connor told him honestly, opening his mouth, just to close it again, making his way to the door.
“Connor,” Hank stopped him. “You wanted to say something else. I saw that. Say it.”
Connor licked his lips, contemplating for a moment, before speaking. “You're right. I wanted to ask a question, but decided not to.”
Hank raised his eyebrows. “Just ask, kid. Otherwise I'm gonna wonder the whole night.”
Connor stepped forward again, his LED flashing yellow for a moment as he thought about his wording.
He sat down next to Hank on the bed. “There is a new law coming up about Androids getting registered, so we can actually make more use of our rights. We're gonna need last names, and we can either pick or it'll be randomized.” He paused, his LED flashing back to blue.
“I was wondering if I could be Connor Anderson.”
A few seconds of silence passed by, feeling like eternity to Connor, even though he knew Hank just needed some time to process.
“I would love that,” Hank finally said, voice thick, giving Connors’ knee a quick squeeze.
A new feeling spread through Connor, one he hadn't really felt before, but could easily decipher.
Comfort.
A notification popped up in his system, his friend status with Hank now officially rising to Family.
Connor stood up. “Thank you. Sleep now. I will also go rest in my room.”
He turned one last time at the door. “Good night, Dad.”
Hank looked at him and smiled. “Good night, Connor Anderson.”