Chapter Text
Considering how everything started, Connor couldn’t help but feel like it was a miracle the Revolution ended peacefully. There had been so much murders and fights and hate crimes, against androids as much as against humans, and at each time, everything looked like they would all have to live a full civil war. He was conscious his first actions in this Revolution had only help for a war to explode. Connor definitely considered himself to be lucky. He would never say it out loud, he wasn’t that self-centered, but from time to time, he felt like had he not deviated at the right time, he would have been one of the main reason a war would have happened.
At that time, he had not been fully conscious of everything that happened. At least, it felt like his sudden deviation had placed his emotions on the forefront for every decisions he made afterwards, and that resulted with everything happening too fast, everything being too blurry. It had felt like a dream. Connor had not remarked how strained he had been by the whole thing until laws started to appear to defend androids’ rights.
The Revolution ended a few weeks ago, and Connor was only starting to be conscious of a lot of things now. He was exploring carefully the range of emotions he was now feeling, he was exploring himself as a living being, and not a vulgar machine that could easily be replaced if broken. Up till now, he had experienced joy when he was hanging out with Hank, concern when the man was falling back into bad habits, stress and relief because of all the laws passing, disgust in front of a corpse at a crime scene. He knew he still had a whole range of emotions to explore yet. He didn’t know what fear felt like, or even despair, or anger. He didn’t want to experience them too soon, but he was still preparing himself for when it would happen.
Because it would happen, Connor wasn’t a fool. He just never expected it to happen that way.
Connor felt like he couldn’t breath, even though he didn’t need to. He felt like his limbs were chained and constricted by some invisible force, that something was weighing him down. He felt like a spiky crushing rock had been thrown in his chest and was tearing him apart from the inside. He felt like the whole world around him was spinning, and falling apart, and threatening to crumble. Connor had never felt that bad.
A endless stream of error messages was clouding his view, and he couldn’t discard them fast enough, as others appeared immediately right after, even more obtrusive, even redder, and everything was red, his LED, the error messages, the sound in his ears. Red red red. Only red.
He could feel his thirirum pump working too hard, and his cooling system whirring in his chest uneffectively. His whole body was overheating, but he felt cold all over. He could feel too much, everything, nothing, but he couldn’t register anything as his processing power was crumbling under alerts and flashes. He felt everything and nothing at the same time.
He didn’t have the courage, or even the thought of verifying his stress level, but even if he did, it wouldn’t have changed anything. He was far above the barrier between safe and disaster and if only his systems could have the reflex of shutting down and rebooting him, but nothing was happening, and it only made things worse, and worse, and worse.
Hank was yelling beside him, Connor knew it more than he heard it. He could barely see the man make wide gestures, his face red and distorted by wrath and rage, behind the wall of red clouding his vision.
He was afraid. Totally and utterly afraid. He hated that. He hated everything about that. He was scared, and afraid, and terrified, and Connor would know later that it wasn’t just that. Distraught and a sense of betrayal had managed to make their way to the hurricane of emotions that was haunting Connor.
He never expected Amanda to have lied to him like that, acting as if everything was alright when it apparently wasn’t, like he was making a good job when he was already deviating. He had trust her with all his might, even when he had started to turn away from her. He had trust her like a guardian, like… like a mother. Only to learn now that everything was a lie. Amanda never thought he would be able to accomplish his mission. She had been right all along, but… But it was human to believe, right ? Amanda never believed in him. And now he was seeing all of it.
He was seeing she had started to elaborate a plan B behind his back instead of trying harder with him. He was seeing how she had already started to replace him as soon as he had been activated. He was seeing how she created something new, stronger, faster, better, less likely to deviate. He was seeing the one she had created to replace him.
An RK900, brand new, perfect, robotic, standing straight with his hands behind his back, hair perfectly combed, a neutral expression on his face as he was facing the captain's desk.
That was him. He was replacing him. Even after the Revolution and the laws passed to ensure androids’ citizenships and their rights.
“That’s bullshit and you know it !!!” Hank suddenly yelled once more, and Connor didn’t know how he did it, but he suddenly could register what he was hearing and seeing. Hank had slapped his fists on Fowler’s desk, making some of the papers and random objects fall off of the desk. Fowler looked just as angry as Hank was, and Connor could see from the tension in his shoulder that Fowler was refraining himself from standing up as well to make his point go through Hank’s stubbornness. “So what, Connor doesn’t count as an android ?! He doesn’t have the same rights as others ?!! What the actual fuck Fowler !!!”
“Connor doesn’t have full citizenship because he is a prototype, and no laws have been passed to ensure his security !” Fowler yelled back, gesturing wild at Hank and Connor.
“He’s one of the fucking reason this whole shit of a Revolution didn’t end in blood and tears and you don’t even consider him as a living being because of a fucking law ?!!!”
“What he did or not doesn’t change the facts !! He is a prototype and as such, he is the property of Cyberlife !”
“He isn’t the goddamn property of anyone !!!”
Connor has never seen Hank so out of himself. He didn’t know what mysterious force was preventing Hank from launching on either Fowler or the RK900 standing at the other side of the office, but Connor was thankful for it. His fate was already sealed, he didn’t want Hank to be ejected out of the precinct because he had lashed out on either of them.
Connor was being replaced. He had a prior notice for his deactivation. In a month no more, he was to go back to Cyberlife to be put out of service, while the RK900 was beginning in the precinct today, that day, right away, like he wasn’t stealing his place. Like it was normal. And Connor couldn’t do anything about it. Because Fowler was right, no law was protecting him from being deactivated.
The RK900 seemed totally unphased. His expression hadn’t changed one bit, even when Hank had started to verbally lash out on him. His eyes had only moved slightly to focus on Hank, and when Hank had started to lash out on Fowler again, RK900 had come back to his initial pose. He hadn’t even so much as glanced at Connor since they were here.
He probably wasn’t a deviant. It certainly wasn’t alive.
Something new took place inside Connor’s chest alongside the betrayal, the distraught and the fear. Hate. Jealousy. Total and utter loathing for that android. Connor had never felt that. He didn’t want to be deactivated. He didn’t want to die. He didn’t want to leave Hank alone. He didn’t want that android to replace him, to take his place in that precinct, to wipe him off existence. He couldn’t help the way he was glaring at the RK900’s profile, at its calm glowing blue LED, at its unphased expression. He hated it. He wanted to kill it to prevent it of replacing him. He was mad at that face that looked so much like himself, but was so not him at all. Starting by those cold grey eyes.
Said eyes finally turned to look at him, and Connor despised it and wanted to tear it apart. It had ignored him for almost an hour, judging by Connor’s internal clock, and now it was finally deigning looking at him.
The wall of red obscuring Connor’s view came back, and the faint red light emitting from his temple, and red red red.
Connor suddenly turned and stormed out of the office, and the bullpen, and the precinct altogether. He had not said a thing in Fowler’s office, Hank being vocal enough for two. Now he needed to go somewhere else before he lashed out on someone. Or something.
He couldn’t believe his life would be ended only weeks after having started. He didn’t want to believe it. He didn’t want any of this to happen.
He didn’t want to die.
His internal clock told him his breakdown had only been forty minutes ago. He hadn’t register anything that had happen during that time. Everything had just felt too much, and he was in so much pain, and he couldn’t. He couldn’t. He had broken down, his systems still refusing to reboot him to help the stress, and the anger, and the fear, and the hatred, and everything to lighten.
Now Hank was holding him tight against his chest, faintly rocking back and forth, fingers making little circle in Connor’s neck, and sometimes going up to brush his scalp, while shushing little nothingness in his ear. Connor couldn’t move from the embrace, not that he wanted to. His stress levels had finally downed below 70%, and Hank’s shoulder was wet with tears and he probably will have bruises later because Connor was gripping tight, so tight that it probably hurt him. But he didn’t say anything about it. He just continued to soothe Connor, to comfort him, to calm him.
“It’s alright kid”, Hank was whispering for the a umpteenth time. “It’s alright. We’ll find something. We’ve got a month to figure that out. We’ll save you. I’ll save you.”
And Connor’s tears only increased. He wanted to believe in these lies so much. He wanted to believe them, but he couldn’t. His metaphorical heart was hurt too much for that. It was shattered into pieces and wiped away to some obscure corners. He couldn’t let himself believe another one who will end up replacing him anyway. He will be replaced by RK900 at the precinct, the same way Amanda had started to replace him.
Finally, he was still just a machine, right ?
“Goddammit Connor, listen to yourself !” Hank muttered, voice angry, but the bite wasn’t there. “You’re not a fucking machine, you’re Connor, and they’ll have to step over my dead body if they want you !”
“Please, don’t…”
“Connor-”
“Don’t…”
Hank released Connor from his embrace, but Connor didn’t let go. He actually clung ever more, and Hank will definitely bruise later.
“Connor, son, look at me.”
Connor only sunk his head deeper in Hank’s shoulder. He heard Hank sigh quietly above him, and two hands went to cup his face and tug him slightly, urging him to lift his face. Connor finally did as told and faced Hank.
He knew he was an utter mess. False tears were streaming down his face and he couldn’t stop them, and he couldn’t help the grimace that distorted his face, or the ugly sobs that broke through his speakers.
Now, he knew Hank was in the same state as he was. Hank was ugly crying too, red faced and tears streaming. It was affecting Hank too, and Connor only registered it now. Hank had grown accustomed to Connor’s presence. Hank was used to Connor being behind him more often than not. Hank was calling him son on a daily basis since the Revolution. Connor was Hank’s son.
And Hank had already lost one of them, all those years ago. Hank knew what losing someone was like. Hank had been a mess when Connor had first been introduced to him. Hank had been in such a horrible state after Cole’s death. Connor could only imagine in what state Hank would be if he came to lose another son. If he came to lose him.
And once more Connor broke down to cry. Hank hands’ began their soothing motions again, and their forehead touched lightly.
“I promise you son, nobody will touch you.”
Connor couldn’t help but believe Hank.
They made their way back to the precinct just before midday. Connor didn’t want to come back there, but Hank had convinced him to continue as if nothing had happened. Connor was a police officer, and one of the best, at that. Their duo had closed the most cases and had the best effectiveness since the end of the Revolution. Nobody could take that from them, and they didn’t need to give Cyberlife another excuse to deactivate Connor, not that they seemed to need one.
Considering how loud Hank had been this morning in Fowler’s office, and the way Connor had stormed out of the precinct, it was sure they would be the center of the attention for the day, at least. The word must have passed throughout the precinct now, and Hank had told Connor to ignore any pitying glance. They didn’t need that right now.
Connor was following Hank really close behind, almost shielding himself behind the man. Not that Hank complained, he seemed to take his role as his guardian really seriously, and he would probably make a hell of a day to anyone trying to approach his son. Connor couldn’t be more glad to have Hank right now.
But the scenario they imagined hadn’t been the one that greeted them. Instead, as soon as they stepped out of the elevator, they heard impressive yellings, about as angry and as loud as Hank had been moments before. The policemen in the bullpen were incredibly quiet, half of them making themselves as little as possible, trying to disappear from the scene they were forced to assist to. The other half had abandoned their works and was totally ogling at the yelling man shamelessly. Connor could also see Fowler in his office, looking absolutely done and only that far to actually fire the next person he would hear.
Detective Gavin Reed was making a scene in the middle of the bullpen, yelling, and screaming, and screeching mostly, agitating his arms wildly at the face of a coffee-soaked RK900 which was standing as straight as always, the exact same uninterested expression it was wearing back in Fowler’s office.
Hank and Connor stopped right in their track at the sight, blinking as Reed was shouting yet another imaged insult. Hank nudged one of the coworkers and asked her what the fuck was happening now.
“Well, guess who’ve just been partnered with the new giant toaster ?” she drawled.
Hank glanced at Connor, who glanced back at him. That did explain everything. Detective-Gavin-member-of-the-anti-android-league-fucking-no-impulse-control-Reed was being partnered with the almost exact copy of one of the people he hated the most. Connor wasn’t even surprised to see the RK900 had received the coffee shower too.
“Well, damn,” Hank whistled. “That promise some very agitated days.”
“Yeah, whatever,” the police woman grumbled, apparently incredibly pleased to have a new android at the precinct. Hank nudged Connor to their desks so they could start working, deciding to ignore Reed’s outburst that was still shaking the whole precinct.
“I can’t believe Fowler paired them together. The fuck is he thinking ?” Hank didn’t seem to know if he should laugh at the whole situation and at Reed’s luck, or if he should still be mad about the RK900’s appearance.
“Detective Reed’s results have collapsed dramatically since two weeks,” Connor answered dutifully, making his best to follow Hank’s order’s not to think about the prior notice and the deactivation for the moment. “I suppose he expects detective Reed’s results to be back to high level with the help of the RK900, the same way yours improved after being paired up with me.”
Hank made a face at being compared to Reed, which almost made Connor smirk. “Well, that’s just going to end up with one of them bloody dead.”
“I also think he is using the fact that detective Reed is on thin ice because of his results to force him to work with an android against his will.”
Hank finally snorted at that and turned back to see the files on his desk, as Connor did the same. Alright, looks like they had a new lead on the Red Ice case they were following.