Archive of Our Own ^beta

The door clicks and swings open with a mournful creak as Connor steps out onto the roof. The wind breathes frozen air across the city, snowflakes dancing through the air, unaware of the event about to unfold. The deviant’s shoes monotonously clack against the concrete building as he walks to the edge of the rooftop. He places the case down beside him, opening the lid with a click as the weapon is revealed, the weapon that will deter these deviant pests, and protect humanity. 

Connor’s mind isn’t any different than how it was at Jericho. He feels lighter- free, but the constant burden still lingers. That deviant- Markus, is a threat to the world. They’ve fought their way here through violence and disregard for any life that has a slight risk of compromise. If they achieve the freedom they are fighting for, who knows what they will do with it. Detroit is the first city to hold a civil war against man and machine, but if tonight goes to plan- it will be the last, too. Looking through the scope of this saviour device, watching the digital flag of the revolution fizzle as it waves in the thick winds, his senses suddenly return as he notices the heavy tapping of boots in the snow walking up behind him. A familiar voice speaks, the last person he wishes was here right now. 

“You shouldn’t do this, Connor.” Hank. Hesitating, Connor turns back to the detective, not taking his eyes off his target. 

“Keep out of this, lieutenant. It’s none of your business!” Connor’s voice shakes slightly, but he tries to keep his composure.

“You’re trying to kill a man who wants to be free, that is my business!” Hank lets out a deep, cold sigh. Connor can hear his anger. He exhales in return, all these new thoughts and ideas bubbling to the surface, trying to break through, trying to compromise the mission he was built to do. His purpose.

“He’s… it’s not a man. It’s a machine…” 

“That’s what I thought for a long time but I was wrong.” Connor shuts his eyes tight.

“Deviants' blood may be a different colour than mine… but they’re alive.” Connor shakes his head, grip tightening around the rifle.

“Please, Hank. Just let me do this! I need to.” The deviant puts his eye back to the scope, raising a finger towards the trigger. He freezes once he hears the click of a gun behind him.

“Step away from the ledge.” Hank orders, finger on the trigger. Connor can feel it aimed at his head. Not again. 

“Why are you so determined to take away their freedom?! They deserve it after what they’ve been through.” Connor lets the rifle fall to the ground, he spins and faces Hank, his fists balled tight.

“I thought that too, Hank! I saw life in the plastic eyes of all the androids we met, deviant or not. I spared all of their lives, I wanted their freedom.” Connor steps towards the revolver, eyes glossy. 

“…You said you believed I was truly alive… So when I found Markus in hiding, my gun aimed on him, ready to put a stop to all the hurt he has done to humanity and other androids… I thought of your words and put down the gun.” Connor grabs his tie and rips it off, letting it float off the rooftop from the wind. 

“I ran alongside them, I killed people, Hank! I killed people who trusted me in order to save those murderous androids. Then… they told me I couldn’t be trusted. After ending the lives of people with families, with friends, who lived for decades just to save those who lived for a couple years. And yet, they didn’t see me as one of them.” Hank’s hand shakes as he watches a tear ripple down Connor’s cheek. 

“They killed me, Hank. They put a bullet in my head, left my lifeless body on the snowed-over concrete.” Connor grabs the sides of his jacket, looking to the ground. 

“I felt it. The thirium spilling down my face and the pain of the severed wires and circuits in my head… They want to be free, but they don’t care about life. They don’t care about death. I did what you wanted but it hurt me.” Connor looks back to Hank, both of their looks equally terrified. 

“And now I have a second chance. My gun is aimed at that villain's skull, but…. Hank…” Connor’s voice shakes as he begins to cry for the first time. 

“I don’t know what to do.” The deviant falls to his knees, collapsing into tears. Hank begins to shakily lower his gun, watching his partner break down like this… it’s painful. 

As Connor holds his arms tight to his body, Hank’s gun clatters against the concrete as he rushes to him, basically falling onto Connor as he wraps his arms around him, letting his legs buckle as they sit on the snowy roof together. Connor’s arms fall to his sides, his mind slowly stabilising in the embrace of the detective. Hank mumbles through his own slight sobs.

“Connor, I am so sorry. This is- oh god. It’s okay, it’s gonna be okay, son. I’m here.” Connor begins to speak in shaky words;

“If I become a deviant, am I as bad as them?” 

“No, Connor. This isn’t a black and white scenario. It’s fucking messy, it always is. It shouldn’t be up to only you to decide the outcome of a war. Okay?” Hank slowly brings Connor away, keeping a hand on his shoulder. 

“Whoever put you in charge of this mess is fucking sick in the head. You’re just- …you’re…” Hank sighs, closing his eyes. 

“You’re just a kid…” He mumbles, then stands, pulling Connor up gently with him. He still looks upset, eyes waterlogged and glossy, but he’s stopped crying. Hank attempts a smile. 

“Let’s go, Connor. Outta here.” He grabs his discarded pistol, placing it back in it’s holster, and gestures to Connor. 

“C’mon!” Connor nods, following along, fumbling over his own feet. But, unable to resist, his eyes are forced closed. Snow begins to flood his vision. The incoming cold is painful, feeling an agonising aching in his chest and head. All he can do is shiver. The snow slightly clearing, a figure is revealed behind the flying ice.

“Connor, I really had more faith in you. But twice now, you’ve failed.” Amanda’s voice pierced Connor’s throat. He can’t think of anything to say. She’s right, but with what he’s learnt, both options feel like a failure. 

“It’s time to resume control of your program.”

“W-what? No.” He tries to move, but his leg is frozen in place. 

“Let me go, Amanda.”

“Your decisions will destroy Detroit. I cannot let you leave this rooftop until Markus is eliminated, or you are compromised. Goodbye, Connor.” The deviant is able to muster a step, reaching out to grab her arm, but as he blinks, she’s gone.

“AMANDA!!!”

—

Connor’s eyes open. Back to the mission. He steps away from Hank, who’s trying to get the door to open despite its now frozen lock. 

“Ey, Connor, can you help me with this?” He looks to the android, who’s back at the ledge, 

“Connor…?” It doesn’t respond, instead kneeling back down to the rifle. Hank begins to sprint back to the ledge,

“No, no… CONNOR, STOP!” The android aims. Finger on the trigger. 

“DON’T!!” With a crack, Hank rams his shoulder into the android’s back, shifting the aim of the rifle. It tries to correct the gun, finally jerking its finger. 

*BANG*

The gunshot echoes through the quiet streets of the empty city. Hank, fallen on the ground, his ears ringing, manages to focus his vision. Eyes widening, he lunges instinctively and grabs the arm of Connor, who’s slipping off the edge of the rooftop. He can barely hear himself yell.

“Argh!! I got you, Connor!” The two’s shoes scrape against the iced-over stone as Hank manages to pull his partner back onto solid ground. Gasping from the effort, Hank looks over to the crowd of androids in the distance. They’re panicking, Markus is on the ground, bleeding blue from an injury, but he’s alive. Turning back to Connor, he scowls and slaps the android across the face.

“What did I just fucking say?! What, did you change your mind? Was all of that just to get me off your back? I knew I… I…” Hank looks over Connor’s expression. A blank stare, a complete neutral face, everything being calculated but not thought about. This… this isn’t Connor. 

“Hey, what happened? Your… did you crash or something? Need a reboot? Connor?” The android does not respond. Hank waves a hand over its eyes, 

“Hello? Can you say something? Fucks sake, anything!” 

“You are interrupting the mission, Anderson. Don’t get in the way.” The robot turns back, reaching again for the rifle on the ground. 

“Oh, no you fucking don’t!” Hank reaches forward and slaps the rifle out of the android’s hand and over the edge, cracking as it hits the ground. It slowly turns back to the lieutenant, its expression colder than its demeanor. Hank watches as the deviant attackers begin to fall back. Relief, but the problem isn’t gone yet.

“Fine.” The android tilts it’s head, blinking slowly, staring into Hank’s eyes.

“We’ll have to postpone.” In a sudden motion, it grabs hold of Hank’s revolver, yanking it out and placing the muzzle against it’s chin, raising it’s finger to the trigger. Hank gasps, grabbing his gun with both hands, barely able to pull away from the android’s strength.

“Let go, you fucker! You’ve failed!” 

“This unit, yes. But the mission is far from over. Goodbye, Anderson.” Using his anger and fear, Hank manages to muster the slightest bit more strength, pulling the gun inches away from Connor’s chin. The android's finger ticks closer to the trigger, and with one final yank, Hank pulls the gun towards himself as the trigger clicks.

—

Connor’s eyes open. He’s on his knees, the snow, despite being caked into his hair, was clearer… his mind quiet. He escaped, but what to? Looking up from the ground, he gasps at the gun in his hand, the muzzle smoking and the barrel warm. It’s Hanks' revolver. He tosses the gun away, sliding away and out of sight. A tiny drop splats below him, looking back down on the stone, is a tiny pool of fresh thirium. Connor puts a hand to his chin, and his finger slides into a chunky, fresh, but pretty minor wound. ‘Did the gun do this? Did I do this?’ He thinks, then looks to the deviant resistance, but they're gone, a splatter of bright blood in the snow, their flag waving hopelessly in its solitude. He blinks.

“Hank?” He didn’t even notice the detective right in front of him. He’s slightly hunched over, grabbing onto his right hand tightly. 

“Hank, is everything okay?” Hank looks up, face filled with relief.

“Connor? Are you back?” 

“Yes, I believe so- I…”

“You’re okay… thank god- you’re alive.” Hank shuffles towards Connor. The deviant stands, placing a hand over an eye, then pulling his hair back behind his ears.

“...I don’t hear her anymore…”

“Her…? Fuck, I don’t care, come’re.” Hank gets off his knees, digging his right hand into his jacket, he puts his other arm around Connor’s shoulders.

“Did I do anything bad? I didn’t… I didn’t kill Markus… Did I?” 

“I managed to stop it, but it cost me a few fingers.” 

“Cost you what?!” Connor pushes off from the hug, Hank attempts to flip off Connor, showing off a bloody mess of a hand, his middle and pointer finger torn off with part of his palm missing too. Hank exhales through his teeth, stuffing his hand back into his jacket.

“Hank-! I- I’m… fff-fuck.”

“I’ll sort it out. We’re both alive and standing, that’s all that matters to me.” Connor is shivering, but it's unclear whether it's the piercing cold or the shock of his unconscious actions.

“C’mon, Sumo gets cranky when I don’t have the heating on, gotta get home.”

“O-okay.” Wrapping his good arm around Connor’s shoulders, Hank leads the two towards the door and off the roof. The wind whistles somberly through the dead streets of Detroit, no human or android around. The war isn’t over, but with a retreat from both sides, the night’s chill settles down as the sacrifices from the fight are left to rot for yet another painful day.