Broken Machinery

Broken Machinery

Pt. 1 (completed series)

Series Masterlist

Connor RK800 x fem!reader

A/N: If I tagged you it’s because you responded to a post where I asked if anyone was interested in Connor RK800 fan fiction (thanks for the support btw) As this is my first time actually “publishing” my writing, constructive criticism would be amazing. I just would love some honest feedback. I’m still working on figuring out navigation and master lists, so if you want to see all the parts for this series just click the tag Broken Machinery. The borders are the work of @saradika as is my navigation and masterlist images.

(I can’t be the only one that finds that gif ridiculously attractive)

Content Warnings: Cussing, Hank, Mentions of domestic abuse and brief mentions of crimes like rape (so brief, blink and you miss it), Carlos Ortiz’s house is a warning in itself that shit was nasty

Word Count: 3.6k

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.

“Hi, I’m Connor, the android sent by CyberLife.”

Your head shoots up from where you had been filing a report. To your right an android was staring down at you, his hand outstretched and his head tilted to the side. He looked exactly like a puppy. Big brown eyes staring down at you in earnest sincerity, an eager tilt to his lips. Your eyes narrowed, CyberLife was getting a little too good at how life like these new models were getting. You shove the Manila folder into the filing cabinet under your desk and shake his outstretched hand. “Detective Y/N Y/L/N, why is CyberLife sending an android to me?”

Your feelings on androids weren’t as callous or as hate-filled as your partner’s Hank were, but the idea of them made you uncomfortable. They were so similar to humans, it was hard for you to believe that with all the intelligence and AI that went into them they were nothing more than a plastic doll. You had no android due to the discomfort of owning something so human.

So, why was CyberLife trying to recruit you into their trillion dollar cult?

“I’m an RK800 prototype designed to assist the police.” He pulled his hand back and fixed his head, his hands going behind his back. That ramrod straight posture he held himself with made your own back ache. “I’ve already assisted in hostage situations and have now been sent by CyberLife to investigate the increasing number of deviant cases.”

You couldn’t help but laugh to yourself, “Oh god, Anderson’s gonna love this.” Rubbing your hands across your face you leaned back in your chair, already dreading the pissy fit that’s gonna come from the drunk when he figures out he’s gonna have to work with an android.

“Are you referring to Lieutenant Hank Anderson? He’s the officer CyberLife sent me to.” Connor watched as you grabbed your jacket off the back of your chair and made your way to the front of the station. His footsteps immediately echoing yours. “I was told you were the best person to ask about his whereabouts.”

You grimaced, already knowing you were about to embark on a bar crawl, entirely too sober. “I’ve got a few good guesses, but if he doesn’t want to be found the bastard’s not gonna be found.” Connor’s long strides easily caught up with your own, he was fiddling with his cuff links as he turned his head to face you. Why the hell are they programming androids to fidget?

“I detect some hostility in your town. Is your relationship with the Lieutenant not agreeable?” You scoffed as you got in your car, Connor quickly getting into the seat next to you.

“Yeah, sure, that’s one way of putting it.” You ignored the head tilt and started driving.

Four bars later and you were struggling not to laugh your ass off at the sight of Hank face to face with an android. You couldn’t hear what they were saying, but you knew whatever it was, Hank wasn’t playing nice. It wasn’t until Connor bought him another shot that Hank finally got up and made his way to the door. He didn’t look very pleased to see you.

“You know about this?” You didn’t need to look to know what he was talking about as he pointed behind himself.

You shook your head, “He just popped up next to my desk like a stray puppy.” Hank rolled his eyes.

“There’s nothing cute about a plastic prick.” You chose to ignore him as you walked towards the exit.

Hank was already standing by his car when you realized he wasn’t following you. “Hey! What the hell are you doing?” Hank turned away from his car door and gave you a look that made you feel like shit on his shoe.

“Driving, the fuck does it look like I’m doing?” His words were slurred and he was leaning heavily on his car door handle. You stormed over to him and snatched his keys from his hand.

“You look drunk. I’m not gonna let you get yourself killed.” Before Hank could start another tantrum Connor interjected. You winced at the sound of his voice right next to you and Anderson. “Detective Y/L/N is right, your BAC is high above the legal limit. There’s a 75.76% chance that you would be involved in a car crash if you were behind a wheel.”

Dangling the keys in front of Hank you smirked, “See, even Connor agrees you’re a jackass.”

Connor’s head tilted and a little groove appeared between his brows as he frowned. “That is not what I said, Detective.”

“In the car, both of you.” You allowed no arguing from Hank, though he was still too angry at the android to actually focus any attention on you. Connor got in the back of the car as Hank took the passenger seat. You’d have to see if anyone coming off the patrol shift around here could come pick up your car. Jimmy’s bar wasn’t exactly the safest place to leave it, as beat up as the old Dodge was.

There was a flash of yellow in the rearview mirror as Connor’s LED worked before he was leaning into the front seat. “There’s been a body discovered, android involvement suspected, I’ve sent the address to your phone’s GPS.” You didn’t bother asking how he got your number or how he worked so fast, you just started driving as Hank cussed out androids under his breath.

“No comment.” You ignored the reporter's choice words on the DPD and made your way inside the house. You smiled to yourself at Connors voice ignoring Anderson’s order to stay in the car. “Your order contradicted my mission.” The smile quickly dropped as the rancid smell inside the house assaulted you. You’d seen a lot, and honestly the sight of a dead body bloated with gas wasn’t even that bad. But the smell was about to take you out.

“-dead about three weeks-” well that explained it. You tuned in and out of the briefing and made your way over to the body. Chris handed you a pair of gloves as you kneeled down and examined the stab wounds. “Talk about overkill.”

“Yes, he was stabbed twenty-eight times, which indicates a heightened level of aggression and emotion. If the android is involved it’s definitely deviant.” You jumped at the sound of Connor’s voice and slapped his arm.

“Jeez, give a girl some warning. I didn’t even hear you walk up.” Connor didn’t even flinch at the slap, if anything it might have hurt you more.

His head was tilted again and you actively had to shred up the thought that it was a cute habit. In reality, you were aware he was probably just recalibrating or scanning his environment. “Apologies Detective, I’ll make my presence known next time.” Then without warning he walked up to the murder weapon, dipped his fingers in the blood and-

Yeah, you were going to throw up.

“The fuck are you doing?” For once you weren’t opposed to Hank’s vulgarity. That was disgusting, you can’t believe Connor just licked the blood. Like it was fucking ice cream!

His LED stuttered from a calm blue to an alarmed yellow for a moment before settling back on blue. “I was designed to sample evidence detectives, my tongue has all the capabilities of a crime lab but with instantaneous results. Apologies for the alarm, I’ll make sure to give you a warning next time.”

Hank nodded, “Whatever, just… no more sticking evidence in your mouth.” Connor nodded and you asked if anything useful came out of that disgusting display.

“The blood belongs to Carlos Ortiz and is approximately nineteen days old.” You shook your head, “so nothing useful then?”

Connor frowned as you and Hank turned towards each other and effectively dismissed him. “There’s no fingerprints.” That gets your attention. “They could have worn gloves,” you and Hank both say it practically at the same time.

Connor shakes his head. “There’s no fibers or any traces of gloves used to cover fingerprints. I’m also seeing traces of thirium around the body.” You gave him a disbelieving look as you gazed at the ground. Blood, porno mags, old beer cans. No bright blue android blood in sight.

“Uh, Con, I’m not seeing anything. Hank?” He just shook his head and kept glaring at the android.

“You wouldn’t be able to see it detectives. After a few hours, thirium, what you call blue blood, becomes invisible to the naked eye.”

Hank nods, “You seeing anything else?” Connor nods his head and begins moving towards the kitchen. Hank goes back to the body to talk to Chris. Your curiosity gets the best of you and you follow Connor. He stops to look through the house before coming to a dead stop in the middle of the kitchen and just staring.

“Connor?” You wave your hand in front of his unseeing eyes. “Con-con? C-man? Connorific? Okay.” You had about a million more god awful nicknames up your sleeve but he was obviously up to something. You left him alone in the kitchen and turned down the hallway. It looked like Carlos’s bed was in a corner adjacent to the living room, you could only assume that this would be a bathroom.

Instinct stopped you in front of the curtains at the end of the hallway. To your left there was clear marking where a ladder should be. You slowly popped open your holster and reached towards the curtains. Your hands grasped the edges gently and you pulled-

“Jesus!” At the end of the hall you could hear some rookies laughing at you. You’d just gotten a heart attack from a bunch of brooms. Real professional Y/N, yeah you’re a real badass. You flipped off the uniformed cops and shoved your way through the bathroom door. “That was so embarrassing!” You screwed your eyes shut as your head thumped against the door frame. After a few deep breaths you finally looked around.

“What the fuck?” The words were whispered as you took in the decrepit bathroom. rA9 was carved into the walls and there was human blood surrounding a crudely carved deity. It looked almost like a sacrificial shrine. What could an android pray to? You kneeled down in front of the statuette to try and get a better look at it.

You didn’t realize you’d asked the question out loud until Connor answered and effectively destroyed your blood pressure. “Androids can’t pray or feel emotions. They deviate and experience glitches in their software that make them think they’re feelings.” You jumped at the unexpected sound of his voice. You would have fallen from your squatted position were it not for the gentle hand steadying your shoulder. Connor offered you a diplomatic hand up and you took it. Ignoring how nice his hand felt in your own. If an android is making me feel weak in the knees I really need to stop turning Reed’s offer down. The idea of actually going on a date with Gavin made your knees shake for other more insidious reasons.

“I believe that I have figured out how the murder took place, detective.” Connor was staring at you and you nearly mushed his face away so you didn’t have to look into his stupid puppy dog eyes.

“Alright, let’s see what you’ve got.” He led the way out of the bathroom and into the kitchen. “Hank!” Hank dismissed Chris and made his way over to the two of you. “Connor thinks he’s got it figured out.” A smug, almost amused expression came over Andersons face as he told Connor to give it his best shot.

“The struggle started here,” he moves towards the counter. “The victim attacked and damaged the android with a baseball bat. The android grabbed a knife and stabbed the victim. The victim struggled and tripped his way into the living room.” You’d made your way to the body and he kneeled in front of it. His head was tilted again as he examined Carlos and then he stood. “The android finished him off here and then used his blood to write this message ‘I Am Alive.’”

Hank seemed begrudgingly impressed. “Not bad, for a plastic doll.” You would have been shocked at his semi praise if you weren’t constructing your own mental image of what took place. Connor had said there were no prints going out the backyard, your mind went back to the missing ladder in the hallway.

Going to the kitchen you ignored Hank's questions as you set the chair up underneath the attic door. You’d seen the ads for the Eden Club, the disturbing pictures of nude women all over the victims fridge, his strange fascination with pleasure androids. You could only imagine the disturbing torture this poor android went through being under Carlos Ortiz’s care. It was hard not to have sympathy for it. If this was a normal case it’d be labeled as self-defense. Self defense after years of domestic and emotional abuse. A human would have an indisputable defense, an android gets deactivated and dissected. It didn’t sit right with you.

In fact, it really pissed you off.

“Detective, if I may?” Connor stopped you before you could climb the chair and instead got up and opened the attic.

“What are you two doing?”

Both you and Connor whipped around towards Hank like toddlers with their hands caught in the cookie jar. “Checking a hunch.”

“Uh-huh, just- just be careful.” Hank gave the both of you a disbelieving look and walked away. Connor made his way up to the attic and pulled himself up gracefully. He surprised you as you stepped up on the chair and offered you his hand. You grasped onto the edge of the attic entrance and prepared to pull yourself up, only to be cut off by your own yelp as Connor practically threw you inside. Android strength never failed to surprise you.

His hands were on your arms as he stabilized you before telling you in a hushed whisper to be quiet. “If you didn’t fucking throw me in here like I’m a flying squirrel I would be quiet,” you whisper shouted back at him. He ignored you as he moved through the attic.

You saw a shadow play across the curtain and on instinct alone your gun was in your hand. Your heart went out to the android but you weren’t risking anything with a deviant.

Connor motioned you behind him, you complied only because you thought a deviant would respond better to another android. A good call when out of nowhere an HK400 jumped out from a pile of boxes covered in blood. “Please,” he sounded so sad. So disparaged, your heart aches for him knowing what his fate would inevitably be. “Don’t tell them.”

“Connor, wait-“

“It’s in here!”

“Well I’ll be damned. Chris, get your ass over here!” You shook your head in disappointment, reaching for the android, ignoring the look of utter betrayal he was shooting at Connor, and you cuffed him. Connor grabbed him from you to direct him out of the attic. You ignored Connor and the strained praise Hank directed towards him as you directed the android to a patrol car.

“I’ll go in first, see how he responds.” Hank nodded as you made your way into the interrogation room.

“Hello, I don’t see a name in this file. Were you registered one?” Nothing, he just kept rocking back and forth. You’d seen this before in victims of domestic violence, rape, assault, other crimes of that ilk. It was jarring seeing something meant to be emotionless and empty showing such clear signs of PTSD. “Would you like to tell me what happened three weeks ago?”

He flinched at the mention of that night. “Or,” a brief look in your direction, “we could talk about something else.” That gained his attention.

“What is Detecive Y/L/N doing?” Connor was analyzing the androids stress levels and frowned at your method of interrogation. You were human, of course you wouldn’t be aware that you needed to stress the android out, not comfort it. Still, this wasn’t an efficient use of time or effort and Connor would prefer to deal with the deviant himself.

“She’s doing her job,” it was clear the Lieutenant was still not happy with Connors presence, briefly on the side of his vision he could see a new objective appear.

IMPROVE RELATIONSHIP WITH LIEUTENANT

He’d deal with that after the deviant. His attention moved back to you. “You were pre-owned. Were you a gift or purchased by Carlos? Do you have any memories of who you belonged to before?” Analyzing you he could see an elevated heart rate and a spike in your cortisol levels. You were quickly becoming frustrated with the one-way conversation. “Look, I’m trying to help you. They’re going to deactivate you and disassemble you. I’m trying to understand your side of things so maybe, just maybe, I can help you out. Get you out of this mess.”

The lack of response once again frustrated you. “I don’t even know why she’s bothering. Just shut the damn thing down and move on.” Connor hadn’t had time to deduce the reason Detective Reed had joined in the interrogation room, but judging on his elevated heart rate and testosterone spike when you spoke to him, Gavin was attracted to you physically.

“CyberLife sent me to catch deviants so they can better understand where the problem in their programming is coming from. I need all the information we can get from this HK400 to better understand the causes of deviancy and prevent them from occurring again.”

Before Gavin could respond you walked into the room. He’d been too distracted to notice that you had stopped interrogating the deviant. “Send Connor in.”

“Y/N?” You dismissed Hank with a wave of you hand and motioned for Connor to head to the other room.

“What’s the point? Why don’t you just rough it up a bit, it’s not human.” You rolled your eyes and tensed up at Gavin’s voice. Connor didn’t need an analysis to understand that you were uncomfortable around him.

“There’s no point, androids don’t feel pain. You would only damage it, and that wouldn’t make it talk. I could try questioning it, it might respond better to an android rather than a human.”

Hank and Y/N shared a look that Connor couldn’t analyze before Hank shrugged and waved his hand. “What have we got to lose?”

“They will deactivate you!” Connors' voice wasn't exactly made for threatening someone. It was kind of like a toddler threatening to tell their mom what you did. You could tell from Hank's face he was thinking the same thing and you were about five seconds away from caving Gavin’s face in if he kept making fun of Connor. You couldn’t help but want to defend him, he just had one of those faces you wanted to protect. Probably a purposeful move on CyberLife’s part.

“Do you understand that?” Oh, damn. You rescind all previous statements. Connor seemed to realize his method wasn’t working out, somehow his voice had gotten deeper, more husky. There was a small, eensy part of you that wouldn’t hate being in those handcuffs right now.

Android. He’s an android that’s probably built like a Ken doll. Get yourself under control.

You’d been a bit preoccupied being a pent-up horn dog to realize the deviant had started speaking. “I was scared… so I hid.”

“I’m done.”

“Well I’ll be damned, the bastard actually did it.”

Shit, you’d missed the whole thing. You’d have to go back and watch the tape later, and probably take a cold shower, because what the hell is wrong with you.

You made your way to the interrogation room, Chris took his cuffs out to take the android back to lock up. “Leave me alone!” He shoved away from Chris and curled up into himself.

“The fucks wrong with it?” Everything Gavin said made you want to run his face over a cheese grater.

Connor moved forward, “You shouldn’t touch it. It will self-destruct if it feels damaged.”

“Stay out of this, got it? No fuckin android is gonna tell me what to do.” You pushed forward and pulled Gavin back by the shoulder.

“Maybe listen to the fucking android dipshit, I think he’d have a lot more experience then you on the subject.”

Gavin shoved you off, “Get a fucking move on Chris!” Your hip slammed into the corner of the table and you were momentarily crippled by the pain. That’s gonna hurt like a bitch later!

You gently grabbed Chris’s arm and pulled him away from the android. “I can’t let you do that! If it self-destructs we’ll never get anything out of it!” Connor had positioned himself between the android and Gavin.

And then Gavin, supreme douchebag he is, pulls his gun, ignoring Hank's warning and completely violating protocol. You don’t even think before moving Connor behind you and drawing your own firearm.

“I said that’s enough!” Gavin looked towards Hank, both you and your partner had your guns pointed at him. Gavin pitched a fit before storming out of the interrogation room. Connor moved to comfort the android before giving Chris instructions on how to deal with him.

There was a heavy feeling of shame weighing upon your shoulders as you watched him walk towards the door. He paused and looked at Connor, “The truth is inside.”

Tag list:

@deviantsugaloaf @mechavee @cixteenyne @detroitbecomeonline @angellwingsss @fableworld @wannex @jokersscarrd @heart-full-of-gears @transparentwatertumbler @chickensandwich69 @blackholegladiator @sweeteatercat @androidposting @heiko-goes-detroit @leelany-world @lasisgood @harperhug @tictacno-stuff @bababoeey72

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.

Broken Machinery

Pt. 4 (completed series)

Series masterlist

Connor RK800 x fem!reader

A/N: A long one, I wanted some more domestic moments between the two, sue me. Black dahlia’s represent betrayal (or it’s just a nice gift for that emo friend in your life)

Content Warnings: Cussing (duh), body breaking like fine china, shoulders out of sockets (not that bad but I googled a picture of one and it’s gross), overdose (but not really), past death of a child (not reader’s), readers got hair long enough to be in a braid, death of a pot

Word Count: 6.4k

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.

Shoulders aren’t supposed to look like that. They’re sure as fuck not supposed to feel like that either. You can’t even lift your arm to peel off your jacket, you don’t have to though, they’re dislocated.

“Y/N!” Calloused hands on your wrist and then all of your body weight is jerked down and hanging from your shoulders, you can feel the moment they rip out of socket, you can’t help the guttural scream that rips its way out of your throat.

The pain from your everywhere is momentarily ignored as you lay in Hank’s lap, sobbing with the relief that you’re still alive. You’re not dead or a paraplegic somewhere in a hospital bed, you’re breathing. You can feel Hank trembling, you’re not sure from what, but he’s silent as he holds you.

You must be going into shock, you can’t really feel anything as he slowly gets you on your feet. You can’t feel your legs moving down the stairwell or him directing you towards the group of patrol cars. One moment you’re on the roof, then you blink, and you’re standing behind an ambulance being looked over by paramedics.

“Cracked ribs, dislocated shoulder,”

Guess it was only the one shoulder, then.

They’re looking you over to assess the damage done. You can just stare blankly down at your sneakers. You’re trying to remember what exactly happened on the roof. But it’s all a blur of adrenaline and primal panic.

He was holding you over the edge, talking to someone. Who?

“Detective! Lieutenant!” Your head shoots up, you ignore the stabbing pain that travels down your spine.

Connor, Connor will save you.

Except he didn’t, he walked away.

He walked away.

You yank your arm free from the paramedic, ignore Hank as he tries to stop you and storm over to Connor. You’d say the look on his face is proud, but you’re not gonna let your heart trick your mind into thinking this plastic son of a bitch can feel anything at all.

“Y/N, I’ve successfully apprehended the deviant.” You’ve still got one good arm. You don’t aim for his face, that won’t do any good, you punch him right in the bio component and watch him crumple to the floor. When hes down you kick your foot into the same spot as hard as fucking possible, ignoring any pain that it brings you.

“Congratu-fucking-lations.”

SOFTWARE INSTABILITY^

It’s been two days and the detective still refuses to acknowledge Connor. He’d tried to explain his reasoning for leaving her in favor of catching the deviant.

FIND Y/N

Connor double checked the door on the hospital room, he could hear Hank and Y/N bickering from inside. “What did the doctors say?” There was a pause before she responded.

“Another day of bed rest,” she sounded reluctant to answer. Connor hadn’t been able to speak with her after the incident on the roof; he'd had to go straight to CyberLife technicians for repairs. She’d done considerable damage to his biocomponent.

Maybe I deserved it.

“Then get your ass back in bed.”

“Hank, please, I’ve suffered a lot worse than this and made it out perfectly fine.”

Hank didn’t sound amused, and there was a loud thud as something landed on sheets. “I don’t care, Y/N! You’re staying right there, it’s not just your fucking physical issues you have to worry about. I’ve never seen you act like that before, I’m worried about what that fall did to your head.” There was a moment of silence and Connor thought it was a smart time to go inside.

There seemed to be a strange, different sort of silence when he walked into the room. Connor wished his hands were free, there were no objectives or dialogue options to pick from as Hank and Y/N both turned towards him. His hands were full, he looked down to the potted black dahlia between them.

He outstretched his hands and moved towards Y/N. She just stared at him from her spot on the bed, unsure of what to do now, he looked to Hank for an order.

The Lieutenant was watching him with crossed arms and an undetermined look on his face.

Connor cleared his throat and placed the flower down on the table near the bed. He scanned her, a minor concussion, two cracked ribs, and one dislocated shoulder. Her heartbeat was increasing the longer he stared, adrenaline and cortisol reaching a level that told him she was very upset about something.

“Your arm seems to be healing at a good pace. You should listen to the Lieutenant, a couple more days rest and you’ll be feeling much better.” The room remained silent and Connor reached up to fix his already perfect tie. There was something odd about him as he felt the stares of his partners. Something inside felt off.

SOFTWARE INSTABILITY^

“I’m programmed with psychological software that could help you after recovering from a strong shock.”

SUPPORT

ANALYTICAL

STAY QUIET

Connor immediately knew what he said was the wrong choice.

“A strong shock?” Your voice was quiet enough that he almost didn’t catch what you said, but the room was so deathly still it was impossible for you not to be heard. “A strong shock?” You were quickly gaining in volume. “You left me to fucking die! And for what, for the goddamn android to smash its fucking brains out on the interrogation table before we got anything! I would have died for nothing!”

Connor opened his mouth, prepared to argue his side of the problem, but you cut him off with a quiet question he wasn’t expecting. “What was the chance?”

“Sorry?”

You walked up closer to him and tugged his tie so hard he stumbled into you, you used the shock of the movement to jerk him down lower than you. “The chance of my survival, RK800, what was it?”

SOFTWARE INSTABILITY^

That strange feeling was back, the use of his model instead of his name made him feel wrong.

He shouldn’t be feeling at all.

When he took too long to answer you knocked his legs out from under him and tightened your grip on the tie. “40%,” he tried to keep his voice as quiet as possible but it was clear both you and the liteuant heard him.

You released him like it had burned you to keep holding on to his tie, and the Lieutenant muttered a quiet, “Fucking bastard.” Connor opened his mouth, unsure of what to say, but wanting this feeling to stop and needing the tears forming in the corners of your eyes to go away.

You and the bag you had been packing were gone by the time he had gotten to his feet, Hank stayed behind a moment, gave Connor a long look before following after you. Connor straightened his tie and sleeves and stared at his shoes. He didn’t know what to do.

There was no objective, there was nobody to give him an order. He lifted his eyes to the flower sitting on the table in front of him. Out of the corner of his eye he ignored the way his LED flashed red in a mirror as he reached forwards and grabbed the potted plant.

Connor looked down at his hand and noticed he was holding an umbrella, he was back in the Zen Garden. Amanda was waiting for him on the other side of the bridge.

They walked under the umbrella together. “That deviant seemed to be an intriguing case, a pity it deactivated before you could get any useful information out of it.”

Connor felt the need to defend himself, “Deviants are extremely irrational, which makes it difficult to anticipate their behavior… I should have been more effective.” The last part of his sentence came out without any thought behind it. Like it was an instinct to automatically blame himself, even though no one would know what the deviant could have been planning.

“Did you manage to learn anything?” Connor told her of the strange drawings on the walls, the ones like mazes and the journal that had a strange code inside it. He still had no explanation for rA9 and he could tell Amanda was disappointed.

“You captured the deviant at the cost of your relationship with the detective, have you made any development in that fixing that?”

Connor couldn’t help but think of your face in the hospital room, you were angry yes, but you also seemed . . . Sad.

Connor wasn’t sure if what he was feeling was guilt, but he knew he shouldn’t be feeling anything at all.

“She still hasn’t forgiven me for leaving her to fall. We had an altercation in her hospital room, after the fact and whatever good grace we had developed seems to have been erased.” Connor stopped once he realized Amanda was no longer following.

“We don’t have much time. Deviancy continues to spread, it’s only a matter of time before the media finds out about it. We need to stop this, whatever it takes.”

Connor straightened his shoulders back and looked down at her, “I will solve this investigation, Amanda. I won’t disappoint you.”

“Don’t let relationships get in the way of success, Connor. Improve on them if you can, but remember their lives mean nothing in the grand scheme of your mission.”

“Detective?” Connor knocked on your door again. You lived in a house about fifteen minutes away from the lieutenant’s. He’d attempted to contact Anderson to get your address, he’d hung up every time he’d realized it was Connor calling him. Eventually he just used the information from your personnel file.

Which is how he ended up peering through your windows, trying to catch a glimpse of where you were. Eventually he managed to get a small peak through one of your blinds in the living room. You were asleep on the couch, the TV playing, and there was something in your hand. Connor pressed his face fully against the glass and alarms went through his processors at what he saw.

Pills were spilled on the ground and the bottle was empty in the loose grip of your hand. Connor attempted a scan to see if you were even breathing, but after unsuccessfully trying to wake you up and get your attention he simply broke the glass.

Connor quickly dove through the window and rushed to your side on the couch. He took in your appearance, your mouth was open, barely any breath going in or out. Your lips and nails were discolored and there was a clammy feeling to your skin when Connor pressed his hand to your forehead. He needed to get you awake and alert, first and foremost.

He lightly brought his hand down on your cheek, you shifted but stayed unconscious. “I’m sorry, Y/N, but I need you to wake up.”

He brought his hand down harder and your hand immediately swung out in response. Connors cheek whipped to the left at the force of your slap, it didn’t hurt of course, but it still shocked him.

“What the hell? Connor? Did you just slap me?” Connor looked down at you, extremely confused at your sudden alertness. He couldn’t stop you in time to not notice what he had done to your window. “The fuck? Did you break my goddamn window?” You used his face as an assist in pushing yourself off the couch, his hands went to your hips to stabilize you.

Connor stood as you kneeled down by the broken glass on your ground, swaying slightly. “Shit, I can’t afford to fix this,” you groaned at the sight of the rain pouring into the empty frame. “My things! They’re all getting wet.” Connor walked over and moved anything around the frame to the wall, making sure nothing besides your carpet would get wet. You were silent as you went and retrieved some plastic to cover the window up. Connor wanted to say something to you, but he was unsure what would help the situation.

“Why did you bust in here like the Kool-Aid Man?”

“I thought you had overdosed.” You seemed to finally take in the mess around the couch.

“Oh, crap.” Connor watched you as you picked up the pills and put them back in the bottle, he finished up the window and moved towards where you were sitting on the couch. Your head was in your hands like it was bringing you pain.

Your voice snapped him out of his observation. “You know, for a state of the art android, you’re a real dumbass.” Connor looked down at you, his face must have displayed something he couldn’t identify because you laughed a little.

“My nails look weird because I haven’t finished painting them,” you pointed towards the nail polish bottles on your coffee table. “I haven’t used any chapstick or taken my iron supplements, so there’s lips. And I got tired and fell asleep with the pill bottle in my hand. I was gonna take one for my headache but passed out after I opened the damn thing, which is probably why my head hurts so much.”

Connor was disappointed with himself at everything he had missed, he should have seen all that from the window and not taken such drastic measures. His damage to your domicile had only worsened relations between you. Right now, you hated him worse than Hank.

“You were barely breathing.”

You shot him a deadpan look, “Deep sleeper.” Connor fixed his tie and looked around the house for something to occupy himself with. There was trash everywhere, dirty clothes scattered the ground, and old dished piled in the sink.

“Hey, hey! I don’t need your judgy ass android eyes making me feel bad for my pig sty. Okay?”

“Allow me to help, detective.” Your eyes narrowed, you didn’t seem particularly trusting towards Connor. He couldn't blame you, he’d completely destroyed the small bridge of trust he’d managed to make with both you and the lieutenant. “Your shoulder and ribs are still damaged, I understand it’s difficult to take care of yourself right now. Allow me to help you.”

You laid back down on the couch, and Connor thought you were going to ignore him until you spoke up after a couple of moments of silence. “You’re a detective bot, not a house maid.” You paused before waving your hand through the air. “But sure, whatever, knock yourself out. Just stop fucking standing over me like that.” Connor watched you close your eyes, he continued standing there for a few seconds. You seemed to be faking sleep to try and get him away from you.

At least he finally had an objective he could follow now.

TAKE CARE OF Y/N

He started with the kitchen. Cleaning the takeout boxes off the counter and grabbing any dirty dishes scattered around your home. He stopped when picking some napkins off your coffee table, to check on you. Your breathing had settled and your back was turned towards him. You appeared to actually be asleep this time.

Connor frowned at the position your body was in. You were going to do more harm than good sleeping on your worn down couch. He placed the trash can on the ground and stepped silently towards you. He made sure to be as still and gentle as possible as he slowly rolled you into his arms. You only moved once, to settle your head in his neck.

SOFTWARE INSTABILITY^

He ignored the way his thirium pump seemed to move faster and how the blue blood rushes towards his head. It simply wasn’t possible.

Connor went down the hall and to your bedroom on the right. He gently deposited you into your unmade bed and tucked the sheets over your body. He checked your pulse and scanned your body. Everything seems to be working perfectly.

You were just a disturbingly deep sleeper.

On his way out, something shining on the ground caught his eye. He made his way towards your dresser, at the foot of it appeared to be a picture frame. He looked over his shoulder to ensure you were still asleep before he bent down and grabbed it.

You appeared to be around nineteen years old. You were sitting on a roundabout smiling at the camera, your hair done in two French braids. Your arms were wrapped around a young boy around the age of three. He had his hand around your forearms and was making a strange face at the camera with his tongue out. Neither of you seemed aware your picture was being taken at the moment.

The scan confirmed your identity and gave him the identity of the boy.

DECEASED

Anderson, Cole

9/23/2029-10/11/2035.

Y/LN, Y/N

DPD Detective

Other known aliases:

Y/N ANDERSON

Hank had a son, who had died? You both appeared close in this picture. It’s approximately three years before Cole’s death. Could the death of Hank’s son be what caused the drift between the two of you?

Connor heard you shift on the bed and quickly put the picture back down on the floor. He didn’t believe you would appreciate him further investigating your life. Not when you got so upset with him when he simply took a look at your adoption papers.

Connor examined this new piece of information. It was like he was working two cases at once, solving the deviancy problem.

And trying to figure out your unfortunate past with the Lieutenant. Knowing now that the Lieutenant's son had died he could go ahead and assume that’s when your relationship started to go downhill. A year after Cole’s death is when Hank’s divorce became official, according to the papers he not so legally acquired.

The death of a child will often destroy families, if Hank could no longer be a viable partner to his wife, then perhaps he could also no longer be a father to you.

Judging by the Lieutenants drinking habits he didn’t have a healthy view on mental health, or know how to properly deal with grief.

The way you seem to isolate yourself when Connor brings up your past or tries to have a better understanding of your emotional well being, he can also go ahead and come to the conclusion that Hank passed on his unhealthy coping skills to you.

His assumption is proved correct when he comes across a packet of cigarettes buried between the couch cushions. They’re unopened but the plastic surrounding the carton has been picked at. You seem to be trying to stop yourself from giving in to your unhealthy impulses.

Connor frowns down at the box and decides to do you a favor, he throws them in the trash.

Connor continues cleaning up your home while you sleep, attempting to wash and dry your dishes as quietly as possible. The cleaning gives himself something to occupy his mind with, the frantic, buzzing thoughts about deviants and his frustrating partners temporarily quiet while he focuses on one singular task.

PROTECT Y/N

Connor always accomplishes his missions, even if that just means making sure you can wake up to a clean home, or if he has to protect you from self-sabotaging habits.

You wake up to the smell of smoke and a loud blaring alarm.

You’re soaked in a puddle of your own sweat and have no idea where you are or what day it is. Your head shoots up from your pillow at the sound of something crashing onto the floor in your kitchen. You take a second to realize that you’ve been moved to your bed.

Then you remember what woke you up and you’re bolting out of bed. “Jesus Christ,” your kitchen is a smoky haze as you cough on the suffocating smell of something burned. Connor is standing in front of a pan on your stove, simply watching the flames. “Connor!” You grab a lid off the counter and shove him out of the way as you slam it over the pan, suffocating the flames. You quickly grab the metal sheet off the ground and slam it into Connor’s chest. “Quick make sure the sprinklers don’t go off.” Connor runs towards the alarm in the hallway and immediately starts waving it around.

The sight of Connor, the emotionless android who is always calm and collected, frantically running around waving a metal pan in the air, jumping up and down to get closer to the smoke alarm makes you double over in laughter. There’s an ache in your rbis and arm from the force of your laughter, but you don’t care. You haven’t felt this light for years, you haven’t laughed like that in years.

So you allow yourself to bask in the moment, one peaceful moment where you’re not weighed down by anything, except the weight of your own joy.

Connor didn’t hear you laughing until he finally managed to get the alarm quieted. The joints in his shoulders were tired from his wild maneuvering, but it was worth it. This was the first time since you met that his observation of you showed endorphins and a positive change in your body, not one that comes from feelings of negativity.

It felt like something was in his chest, lifting him up and lightening his weight as he watched you.

SOFTWARE INSTABILITY^

Perhaps you did more damage when you attacked him than he originally thought. Your face contorted in pain as you finally raised up from your position. Connor moved before his processors could give him the option to. He tried to be as gentle as possible as he assisted you in standing. He pointedly ignored your protests that you didn’t need help.

You did and you were getting help whether you wanted it or not.

There was still a slight smile on your face as Connor deposited you on the chair next to your table. He moved towards the stove and turned off the burner, dropping the ruined pot in your sink and running water over it, your house still smelled very strongly of burnt food.

He heard a grunt coming from his right, when he turned something inside his head felt strange. LIke he wasn’t okay with what was happening, perhaps humans called this irritation. A concerning thought, but one he ignored in favor of nudging you aside while you failed to open a window.

“Connor-”

The look he shot you when he turned around was enough to get you to sit back down. “Why are you so stubborn? You should not be here alone, you’ve taken too much damage to even do basic household chores.”

You looked around your house and finally noticed all the hard work he had put in. “Holy shit.” There was a look of appreciation on your face until you turned towards Connor. A pout formed on your face and you crossed your arms like a petulant child, “Maybe I wanted the mess. I liked it like that.”

Were you seriously having this argument with him right now? You being difficult for no reason was causing his programming to go haywire. There were red warnings in the corner of his eye telling him he was going to overheat, he dismissed them and stormed towards you.

His hand landed on the table more harshly than he intended, causing you to jump in your seat. “You’re behaving like a child, Y/N, you’re a grown woman act like it! You need my help, there’s nothing wrong with letting me assist you, so just let me help you.” Without consciously activating it the voice he uses during intimidation tactics had been used.

His eyes were drawn down to your thighs, you had them clenched tightly together, your thighs pooling out on the chair below you. Your lips parted slightly as you stared at him. Connor quickly scanned you, your heat level was rising, your heart rate had accelerated and there was an increased level of estrogen and testosterone production. A thermal scan showed an increase of heat in your pelvic area.

ACTIVATE SEXUAL SUBROUTINE?

It wasn’t until the message appeared in front of him and blocked his view of your face did he realize how close he was to you.

This was highly inappropriate. You were injured and still upset with him, there was no need to seduce you.

ACTIVATE SEXUAL SUBROUTINE

He was designed with the intent to complete his mission at any cost. In case there was ever an issue between him and one of his partners and other more illicit methods were needed to gain their support, he was equipped with the capabilities to do so. This wasn’t a situation where methods like that were necessary, so why was there a prompt for it?

Connor backed away from you immediately, it wasn’t right to be taking advantage of your emotional vulnerability. From the corner of his eye he saw you slump back down into your chair. “What-“ you cleared your throat. “What were you even trying to make?”

Connor looked back towards the pot, his hands reached for the coin in his pocket. He needed to do something to get his software back in order. He didn’t turn to look at you, knowing he wouldn’t be able to focus. He thought back to the pasta sauce on your counter. “Spaghetti, for some reason the noodles burned onto the bottom of the pot.” After he was done recalibrating he placed the coin back in his pocket and found it was okay to look at you now.

Your eyes were glued to his hand for a moment before they shot back up to his face. “Burned, to the bottom of the pot? How the hell do you burn water?”

Connor tilted his head to the side, “Water?”

Your mouth dropped open and your eyes widened. “You’re kidding? Tell me you’re kidding.” Connor didn't know how to respond to you so he remained silent. “Oh my god,” you dropped your head into your hands. “You didn’t put water in the pot.”

“Was that required?” You didn’t answer him, instead you stood and walked over to the sink, Connor followed behind you, unsure what you wanted him to do. The both of you stared down into the pot as you lifted the lid, the pasta has blackened at the bottom. Even when you stabbed at it with a knife it wouldn’t come off the pot.

Your, “yeah, it needed water,” was quiet as you went outside and tossed the pot in your trash bin. Connor stood by your opened back door awkwardly, he didn’t feel good at disappointing you and failing his task.

“I apologize Y/N, I failed.”

You snorted, “Big time, how the hell do you not know to put water in the pot?”

Connor looked down at his shoes, “I was not built with cooking capabilities,” he risked a look at you.

You were standing there, just staring at him with your arms crossed before you finally shrugged, “Well then… I guess Barbie’s got you beat.”

“Dammit, Connor, I can feed myself!”

Connor leveled you with a look that allowed for no arguing. “Your dominant arm is dislocated and you refuse to wear your sling, I’m going to assist you.” He pushed the fork against your mouth again and you reluctantly opened your mouth to eat the pancakes he had ordered. This was so humiliating, you were desperate to get him to leave at this point.

After the pot had been destroyed and subsequently disposed of he had ordered some food and you sat down in your living room.

Your entire home was absolutely spotless, when you went to the bathroom you’d noticed he’d mopped the tiles. You were not asleep long enough for him to clean your living room, let alone your whole house.

While you were still against the idea, you could understand why some would prefer android cleaning services to human. You didn’t even want to sit on your couch, afraid of wrinkling the now pristine cousins.

Once you’d sat on your couch, you’d waited for him to leave.

Except, he didn’t, he sat down next to you and then just stopped moving. No blinking, no breathing, just absolute stillness. So, still being pissed at him you’d grabbed a marker off your desk and scribbled some drawings on his face. A heart, random flower, some choice words, nothing too bad. However;

They were staring at you right now as he force fed you.

He’d called a repairman while you had drawn on him, someone would be coming by to fix your window tomorrow, CyberLife would be footing the bill. After he’d made the order for the repair he’d asked what you would like to eat and made a call for the pancakes.

He still hadn’t noticed the drawings, it was a struggle not to choke on your laughter.

You forced a yawn as you pushed his hand away from your mouth, he frowned at the action. “Are you tired, detective?”

“Yeah, I am,” now please get the hell out of my house.

“You should bathe before you go to sleep.” Your head shot towards his, the action hurting your neck. You ignored it in favor of giving him your famous The Fuck Did You Just Say™️ look.

First, he lets you fall off a building and nearly die. Next, he breaks your god damn window and destroys your pot. Now he’s saying you stink. And good grace you held for Connor was gone, obliterated at the comment.

“That’s it Connor. You’ve stayed far past your welcome, I’m done.” Your resolve almost broke at the way Connor’s shoulders slumped. You straightened your shoulders, ignored the pain shooting down your arm, and rebuilt your walls.

You should thank Connor honestly, him letting you nearly die had reminded you of exactly what he was. Nothing more than a plastic soldier that only cared about his mission. You meant nothing to him. Your life was nothing. How could something that could so easily be put into a new body have any idea about death. He couldn’t.

But something that couldn’t die, also couldn’t feel. Those small touches, and the times he would check in on you, it was all manipulation. Just like the way he lied about having a favorite dog, they were all subtle little manipulations to have you as agreeable as possible. And a visceral rage filled you at the thought that he had almost succeeded.

Your heart had almost been his.

You rebuilt your walls and stared him down. “Leave. Now.”

Connor didn’t frown, he didn’t cry or scream at you to let him stay, but the look in his eyes as he stared up at you from his spot on your couch said enough. He looked genuinely hurt at what you said. Not possible.

“You can take your sad little eyes and you can shove them up your ass, Connor. Get the fuck out of my house.” You stormed out of the living room and into your bedroom. He’d cleaned it up and replaced your sheets while you’d waited for the food to arrive.

The lack of your mess made you angrier than it should have. How dare he just come into your house and start acting like he belonged there?

Like he had any right to be near you?

If he could feel pain you would beat him twice as bad as you did after the rooftop incident.

Apparently he’d had to get three parts replaced by CyberLife after what you did. Hank had been complaining about the paperwork the entire time you were in the hospital.

If your arms and ribs weren’t aching you would be pitching a major fit, and ripping the goddamn sheets right off the bed. At the moment, however, the pill Connor had forced you to take was kicking in and making you sluggish.

The only reason you had allowed Connor to stay in the first place was because you were still waking up from your nap. He seemed determined to keep you weak and tired so you couldn’t get rid of him.

You heard footsteps and then a hand was wrapped around your non-injured elbow. “I’m not leaving, detective. Someone in your condition needs assistance.” You turned around in his arms and tried to push him off of you, but he wouldn’t budge. Both of his hands moved to your biceps. The look he gave you made you stop, “Y/N, please, let me help. Please.” He seemed so sad, there was a slump to his shoulders that made him look almost shameful. The tone of his voice made you believe he actually wanted to help, that this wasn’t a part of his programming.

You blamed how easily you gave into him on the drugs.

“Absolutely not!”

Connor was holding your towel in front of him like a shield. “I won’t look, detective, I promise.”

“Hell no! Line drawn! You shall not pass.” He gave you a stern look. Like you should feel dumb for thinking he wanted to see you naked, maybe you were, but you didn’t want any pervy CyberLife techs scanning through his mainframe and seeing footage of you naked. “I’m not gonna let your bosses see me naked.”

Connor seemed to catch onto your train of thought. “I won’t be recording when you’re bathing, I promise we’ll be completely alone.” You crossed your arms, this is one battle he would not be winning. Android or not, your stubbornness was not something to be so easily reckoned with. Connor let out a long sigh, “Fine. You clean yourself, and then we can draw a bath and I’ll assist you with your hair.”

You’d made the mistake of admitting to him that you hadn’t exactly been keeping up with your hygiene while you’d been on the case. You’d been keeping your hair in two braids and have been taking quick showers in between working the case. It was one of your more major flaws. Letting yourself get swept up in the mystery at the expense of your own self-care.

You’d also made the mistake of telling him that it hurt too much to wash your hair, or even attempt to. Now he was insisting on helping you.

Connor looked at your arms and mimicked your posture. “We can stand here all night, detective, I’m not budging.”

You were standing there for two minutes before you realized he was actually being serious. Your chest was starting to ache with the effort of keeping yourself upright. You shifted around and he didn’t even blink. Your skin was starting to buzz with boredom.

After another minute you saw that he wasn’t blinking. Narrowing your eyes and moving closer to his face you waved your hand in front of his face. “Are you serious?” He’d gone into sleep mode, you could tell by the pulsing yellow LED on the side of his face. “Bitch.” And he had ‘coincidentally’ blocked the bathroom exit. Groaning you took the towel in his hands and threw it over his head.

“RK800 wake up.”

Connor’s systems slowly came back online at the sound of your voice. Everything was at 100%, except his optical units didn’t seem to be processing his environment correctly. It took a second before his sensors recognized the fabric of a towel over his head. He sighed and ripped it off his head.

The sight before him had him momentarily stopping. You were in your freshly cleaned tub, bubbles covering your body as you looked at him expectantly. “You wanna help me out or what, sleeping beauty?”

ACTIVATE SEXUAL SUBROUTINES?

SYSTEM OVERHEAT IMMINENT

ACTIVATING COOLING SYSTEM

You looked concerned by the time Connor had managed to calm his sensors, there were parts of him coming online that were not necessary at this moment. He tightened his tie as a poor attempt to get everything back in order. It didn’t work, he was still distracted by your lack of clothes. He could not understand why.

“I’m starting to get creeped out, Connor.” That got Connor’s attention. He never meant to make you uncomfortable.

He moved to sit beside the tub and pulled up his sleeves. “Apologies, detective, my systems were coming back online.” You nodded your head and he hoped you couldn’t see through the lie. Connor used the pitcher beside him to wet your hair and began massaging your scalp as he rubbed the shampoo in.

You moaned as his hands came down to rub your neck. It triggered another cooling process. Much of the rest of your bath was the same, he was struggling with strange impulses that were activating outside his control and programming. When you had leaned your head back on the rim of the tub he’d wanted to press his lips against your stretched neck.

He’d seen humans do it before, but the emotions connected to the act were something Connor wasn’t capable of. He was experiencing what some might call a mental crisis as he helped you wash your hair.

When he was finished, he handed you a towel and went to your room to grab you some pajamas. The picture of you and Cole was facedown on your dresser, moved from the upright position he had placed it in while he had cleaned.

He placed the tank top and shorts you requested on your sink and waited for you in your bedroom. When you walked in you seemed surprised to see him standing by your bed. Your face quickly morphed into one of resignation as you threw your towel on your bed.

Connor made a note to pick it up.

“What now?” He held out the brush in his hands.

“I’ll braid it for you, so you don’t have to worry about styling it with your injured shoulder.” You stopped fidgeting with the end of your shirt and instead gave him a bewildered look. “Is something wrong, detective?”

You cleared your throat before answering, “Nothing it’s- Nevermind.” You sat on your bed with no argument, something Connor was surprised by, considering you seemed to find it necessary to argue with him about everything.

By the second braid you were fully leaning onto his leg, Connor had to keep readjusting so he had room to finish off the braid. The medicine seemed to have fully kicked in, you didn’t make a fuss when he gently guided you under the covers and turned your light off. He knew you were still awake as he made his way to your door.

“Good night, detective.”

He didn’t get a response.

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.

Usually it’s video games instead of music but this is pretty much accurate hehe

Broken Machinery

Intermission

To be read after part five

Series masterlist

Connor RK800 x fem!reader

“Oh, no.”

“Is something wrong, detective?” 

“Yeah, something’s wrong.” You didn’t wait for Connor to open your door, you got out of the car and began heading towards where Hank was sitting. Connor closed the car door behind him and followed after you.

You hesitated behind the Lieutenant, your hand hovering over his shoulder as you stood behind the bench. You stood like that for a minute before you finally dropped your hand and turned around. There was a defeated slope to your shoulders as you sat down on the roundabout, staring out at nothing. 

Connor kept an eye on you while he walked over to the Lieutenant, there was already an empty bottle beside him, and he was starting on a new one. “Nice view, huh? I used to come here a lot before…” He paused, “You remember that, Y/N?”

Your voice was quiet, barely louder than the falling snow. “Yeah, I remember.” Connor looked between the two of you, neither of you were very interested in the idea of ‘opening up.’ However, the Lieutenant had been drinking, perhaps he would be more loose-tongued. 

“Before what?”

“Hm?”

“You said, ‘I used to come here a lot before.’ Before what?”

Hank stared down into the bottle, slowly swirling it before taking another sip. “Before… Before nothin’.” Your foot scraped across the ground as you twirled yourself slightly on the roundabout. Your posture was closed off, not defensive, just closed off. He would have no luck with you. 

Connor figured now would be a good time to ask the LIeutenant a question that had been bothering him. While things were obviously tense, there was a tranquility on the bridge that Connor rarely experienced around Hank. 

“Can I ask you a personal question, Lieutenant?”

Hank turned towards Connor, “Do all androids ask so many personal questions or is it just you?”

Connor didn’t think Hank would appreciate the truth behind his desired answer to that question. Plus, you had warned him recently to keep any thoughts that had been causing conflicts in his software to himself, that it would be safer for him. 

“I saw a photo of the detective and a young child in her bedroom.” Hank turned around and gave you a long look when Connor mentioned that he was in your bedroom. His brows were furrowed when he turned back to Connor. “The boy, it was your son, right?”

“Yeah… His name was Cole.” Connor already knew that, but telling the Lieutenant that wouldn’t do any good. “And the girl in the picture had been my daughter, not anymore.” Connor turned towards you at the sound of a sniffle, but your back was to the both of them as you had spun to the opposite side of where they were standing. He could vaguely make out the shape of your shoulders shaking through the snow. 

Connor needed something else to think about, his humans were too emotional, too complicated. It was in turn making his mission more complicated. “We’re not making any progress on this investigation… The deviants have nothing in common. They’re all different models, produced at different times, in different places.”

Hank didn’t seem truly interested in what Connor had to say, but he entertained his musings nonetheless. “Well, there must be some link.”

Your voice was still quiet, but you spoke up loud enough for both of them to hear, “rA9,” Connor waited a moment to see if you wanted to elaborate on your thoughts. You remained silent. 

“They do share a similar obsession, it’s almost as if it’s a myth. Or a god to them. Like it’s something they invented that wasn’t part of their original program.”

“Androids believing in God… Fuck, what’s this world coming to?”

“You seem preoccupied, Lieutenant… Is it something to do with what happened back at the Eden Club?” Your head perked up slightly in the background and you angled yourself so you could hear their conversation more clearly. It seemed his actions at the club hadn’t confused only him. 

“Those two girls, they just wanted to be together… They really seemed in love,” the idea appeared to distress the Lieutenant. 

“They can simulate human emotions, but they’re machines. And machines don’t feel anything,” perhaps reminding the Lieutenant of that fact would ease his troubles and make him a more agreeable partner. Towards both Connor and you. 

“What about you, Connor?” You had finally made your way over to the bench, keeping a clear distance between yourself and the Lieutenant. 

The Lieutenant finished his drink and stood from the bench, “Yeah, you look human, you sound human, but what are you really?” Both pairs of eyes were boring intently into his. 

Whatever he said next could make or break the trust he had been building back up, he looked towards you. He knew what you wanted to hear, he knew exactly what to say that would make you warm up to him again. But he had promised, he had promised to be honest and not to manipulate your emotions. 

For some reason that meant something to him. 

So, he went with what he felt was the truth. “You know exactly what I am.” Your face dropped and Hank’s got angrier. “In any case, I don’t see how that’s relevant to the investigation.”

“You could have shot those two girls-“

“But you didn’t.” It was a bit unnerving to have you and the Lieutenant finishing each other's thoughts. Perhaps this is a method you used on perps when you interrogated them, corner them and trap them into the truth. 

“Why didn’t you shoot, Connor?” Hank shoved him back and you stepped forward, stopping yourself for a moment and letting everything play out. “Hm? Some scruples suddenly enter into your program?”

He looked towards you again, you had moved a step closer. He could practically see what you were thinking. 

Tell the truth. Please. 

“No… I just decided not to shoot, that’s all…”

“Oh, Connor,” he thought you would be happy, he told the truth. Instead you seemed incredibly sad and he didn’t like that. Your eyes widened and then your eyebrows turned down in anger at the sight of Hank pulling his gun. “Hank, what the hell are you doing?”

He ignored you, seemingly having only enough mental capacity to focus on one thing, Connor. “But, are you afraid to die, Connor?”

“I would certainly find it regrettable to be… interrupted… before I can finish this investigation.”

You were slowly moving closer to the two trying to figure out how to stop Hank. “Put the gun down.”

“What will happen if I pull this trigger? Hm? Nothing? Oblivion? Android Heaven?”

The idea of Android heaven was preposterous, but that wouldn’t get Hank to put the gun down. He needed to do it soon as you seemed ready to jump in between the two of them. “Where does all this anger come from, Lieutenant? Some unresolved trauma in your past?” He knew the answer, it was Cole and whatever had caused the rift between you two. 

“Connor, stop.” You had stopped trying to intervene now, staring at him with hurt swirling in your eyes. 

“You think you’re so fucking smart,” his finger tightened on the trigger. “Always one step ahead, huh? Tell me this, smart ass… How do I know you’re not a deviant? The way you hover around Y/N, your mercy towards those two girls back there…”

“I self-test regularly, I know what I am and what I am not.” 

That wasn't truly an answer but it seemed to work for the Lieutenant. His hand shook before the gun fell back to his side. Hank moved back towards the bench, picking up another bottle. 

You watched him walk away, “Where are you going?”

“To get drunker… I need to think.” Both you and Connor watched him get in his car and drive away. 

You rocked back on your feet and tucked your hands in your pockets. 

“Guess we’re walking home.”

“DAD!” 

You couldn’t see.

Why couldn’t you see? 

There was a red film over your eyes and when you went to rub it away, you couldn’t move. There was something digging in your cheek, glass judging from the pile of it next to your face. What was going on?

You don’t remember what happened, the last thing you remember was getting into a fight with Hank about joining the force. He didn’t want you to, he thought it was too dangerous. 

And then there was something loud. 

A scream

You screamed

Why?

Because there was a noise, an awful noise, like metal scraping on pavement. 

What the hell happened?

“Cole! Cole, wake up!”

Your hands were pinned under your body, half of you was on asphalt, and when you tilted your head down you saw your legs on the grass. There was a strange warmth running down your face, you could see bone sticking out of your calf and blood pooling beneath it. 

There was a strange calmness as you tried to move your legs and failed. In the back of your mind you knew that wasn’t good, that your life was about to be changed forever. But you couldn’t break through the fog in your mind long enough to freak out.

You lifted your hand and dragged your arms out from underneath you, your skin catching on the pavement. There were two shapes in front of you in the middle of the road. Your vision was still blurry but you could recognize the close cut hair of your dad, and he was holding something small in his arms. 

It wasn’t moving, you felt like it should be. 

There were bright lights and smoky smells surrounding you, hands were tugging at your arms, but all you could see was the stillness in Hank’s arms. The small shape that should be moving, but wasn’t.

Again that small voice in your head was screaming, in pain or in anger, you weren’t sure. 

Nothings ever gonna be the same, is it?

“Y/N! Y/N!” Your hand lashed out, and connected with something hard.

It was hard to see in the dark, but you could make out the vague shape of Connor standing in front of your bed. “Connor?” Your voice was hoarse from being quiet for so long. 

“You were having a nightmare,” he reached out and turned your lamp back on. Your eyes momentarily closed from the shock of the brightness. “Are you okay, you sounded upset?”

You sat up on your bed, your head in your hands, the dream slowly coming back to you. “It was that night.” Connor’s jacket was gone, his sleeves rolled up. Normally the sight would have made you a little irrational but you were still feeling emotionally wrecked. 

He sat next to you on the bed, “What night?” There was a comforting hand on your shoulder, his thumb moving in slow circles as he worked to calm you down. 

You could barely hear your own voice as you whispered, “The night Cole died.”

“Why can’t I feel my legs?”

“Please try and remain calm-”

“Where’s my dad? My little brother was with us. Have you found him? Are they okay?!”

The MP600 paramedic stared down at you blankly, it’s human counterpart looked worried as he wrapped the gash on your leg. “Answer me god dammit! Why won’t you look at me?”

The paramedic’s movements stopped for a moment and he looked at you, finally. You immediately wished he hadn’t, you wished he would just go back to pretending you didn’t exist. You knew the answer by the look in his eyes. 

The look that told you he’s had to break this type of news to someone one too many times, there was no hope, no light, nothing there to comfort you as you rode to the hospital, silently sobbing into your hands from both pain and anguish. 

Words were going in and out of your head, the sound of the heart monitor was background noise to the doctor speaking to you. You still hadn’t seen Dad, or Carla, or Cole.

No one was there to hold your hand as you were told you might never walk again. 

That a nerve had been damaged in your spine that might result in lifelong paralysis. 

“Y/N? Y/N!” Carla rushed into the room, sweeping you into a hug. You ignored the pain in your ribs and the clear absence of pain in your legs as you returned the embrace ten-fold. “Oh god, I was so worried, no one’s telling me anything. I wasn’t even sure you were alive until an android told me where you were.”

You were crying into her shoulder, so grateful for a familiar face that wasn’t a cold doctor or a frantic nurse. 

“Where’s dad, is he okay? Cole?” Carla pulled back, brushing some stray hairs from your forehead as tears lined her eyes. 

“Your dad’s okay, he’s just getting patched up. Cole,” her voice broke and your heart crumpled. “Cole’s in surgery, they have an android working on him. On my son.”

Disbelief colored your features and you could hear your heartbeat pick up on the machine. “What, why?”

She shook her head and went back to tenderly brushing the hair out of your eyes. 

Carla had came into your life after Hank, she’d cared for you and you loved her but she’d never been your mother. Now her only child was in the hands of something that wasn’t alive, it couldn’t feel empathy. If it failed its mission it wouldn't keep pushing to save Cole like a human might, it would simply give up. 

There was a horrible feeling in your gut, burning and twisting around your insides until you became physically ill. You threw up all over yourself. Carla rubbed your back as the nurses came in and cleaned up. You held each other as you both cried. 

It wasn’t until Hank walked in did you realize just how worried you had been for him. 

“Dad,” his eyes were vacant as he walked into your room. There was no relief like there was with Carla, he stared straight through you. “Dad?”

He shook his head, an empty smile on his face. “Hey, kiddo.” The nickname felt wrong, sounded fake. He just stood in the doorway of your hospital room. 

“Hank, what are you doing?” Carla seemed to pick up on the strange behavior too. He stared at you a moment longer, there was a gash across his eye and a bandage wrapped around his arm. 

It seemed he’d escaped unharmed compared to you and Cole.

The thought came with such a burning amount of rage and hatred it startled you. 

Hank walked out of the room, “Hank!” Carla looked at you, giving your hand a comforting squeeze. “I’ll be right back honey.” You didn’t see either of them for another four hours. 

“I’ll never forget the sound of her cry, Connor. It echoes around in my mind when everything’s too quiet.” 

His hand squeezed yours as he pulled you into his side.

There was a strange wailing, the noise woke you up. It ripped through the hospital and shook its foundation. Your entire body stilled at the raw visceral pain in the noise. It was terrifying, like you were being held down by some unknown force as you tried to get up. 

Then you remembered, your legs were the deadweight holding you down. The thought left you choking back a sob.

Why could you still feel an ache in them, an itch you couldn’t scratch?

There was another horrible noise and you finally forced yourself to roll over. There was a wheelchair waiting for you next to the bed, you almost threw up at the thought of having to use it. Something stopped you from completely flopping off the bed. 

You ripped the IV out, “Fuck!” That looks so much less painful in the movies.

You put the guard rail down and finally managed to get into the wheelchair. Your arms were still sore from the impact they took, you pushed through it as you rolled down the hall. 

Your room was close enough to the waiting room that it didn’t take too long to see who had been screaming. The entire time your heart was begging you to turn back around, to just get back in bed and rot there. That, that would be better than whatever you were about to see. 

Some nights, you wished you had listened. 

Carla was on her knees, clutching onto Hank as the doctor spoke in low tones. You barely held back the bile at the sight of their faces.

Hank, you’d never seen him like that before, so lost, so unsure of himself. Like every grain of goodness and light and hope inside him had just been ripped out and run over. 

Carla was a shrieking animal on the floor. You knew what that meant. 

Cole was gone. 

“My condolences,” you nodded, eyes on your hands so you didn’t have to look into the eyes of whoever was mourning. You couldn’t do it anymore, you couldn’t deal with the pity as they looked at your wheelchair and then at your father who was still sitting in the pews, bottle in hand. 

You felt hands on your shoulders and looked up, Carla’s once kind eyes, now sad, were staring down at you. “It’s time.” You nodded and she started rolling you towards the taxi waiting at the curb. 

Time to bury your baby brother. 

Time to bury your heart. 

TIme for the final nail on the coffin of what used to be a happy family. 

“He was the best thing that ever happened to me,” Hank’s eyes found yours from where he was giving his speech.

The bottle had been disposed of before he joined you in the taxi. You didn’t know if his eyes were red from the drink or from the tears currently pouring out.

“He was so young, so much potential and it was just ripped away from us! From me.” You looked away, wiping your eyes. “How dare you?” 

Your head shot up, looking for who he was talking to. You would assume God, if it didn’t sound so pointed. “How dare you sit there and fucking cry?” 

No, please no.

He was staring at you, finger pointed at you. “You’re alive and hes dead and you’re fucking crying?!”

“Hank, that’s enough.” He shoved Jeffery off of him, if he wasn’t mourning, the captain probably would have taken his badge. 

“No! He’s gone because of you! And you sit there crying like you have any right too?” There were gasps going around the people surrounding the coffin. You and Carla were the only ones who weren’t surprised. 

You’d heard this drunken rage a hundred times since the night of the accident. 

Hank stumbled towards you, “I wish you had been the one who died.”

Your chest caved in and your heart shattered at your feet. The rest of the funeral was a high-ringing blur of pain.

Carla didn’t stay long. You didn’t blame her. 

But you didn’t have the luxury of leaving.

Your admittance letter to the academy stared at you every morning as you wheeled yourself into the bathroom. For months you stewed in misery and depression, you didn’t go to PT and you cried yourself to sleep every night as you heard Hank’s drunken raging outside your room. 

Sumo would climb in your bed and snuggle you on the really hard nights. 

The only reason you kept going was because if you died no one else would be there to love him or feed him. 

You wondered sometimes, if it was your fault. Had you really been so distracting when you were arguing with Hank that he had crashed?

Had it not been for you making him pick you up from a friend's house right after Cole’s karate lesson, they wouldn’t have been on that road. 

Maybe things would be better off without you.

“Get up!” A pillow hit you in the head, you buried your face further into your sheets, now more used to the dead weight beneath your waist. Another pillow, a familiar scent attached to this one. 

“Carla?”

“That’s right, get your ass up.” Hank must be gone, he’d gone back to work a little while ago, it meant you had the mornings to yourself. You sat up and stared at her in wonder. 

Carla had helped you for as long as she stayed, picking you up off the floor when you couldn’t make it onto the toilet in time. Bathed you and helped you get fed. After she had left there were a lot of humiliating mornings of sitting in your own filth because you hadn’t been able to get on and off the toilet on your own. 

You’d stopped trying after a while, just held it until it was too painful to keep it in. Stopped eating and drinking. You knew you looked awful, hair unwashed, and barely any meat left on your bones. 

“Ay dios mio,” Carla sat down and clutched you to her chest, embracing you despite the stink and the lack of enthusiasm on your side.

Eventually you managed enough strength to hug her back, the moment a painful reminder of the night your life ended. 

“Carla took me to physical therapy, helped me find a place on my own and figure out how to navigate my new life.” Your hand was holding Connor’s, you had been tracing shapes on it for a while now as you spoke. 

He was just staring at you, letting you talk it all out. “She helped me find a therapist, a lot of my physical problems were the result of mental blocks. That’s not to say I was magically healed once I realized I was traumatized, it was at least a year before I could stand with support.”

“Where are you going?” Hank was sober, rare these days. 

You had borrowed Carla’s van, she’d left an hour ago knowing Hank would be home soon. A box was in your lap as you wheeled yourself to the door, Hank was standing there, Sumo’s tail wagging happily beneath him. 

You could feel your face drain of color as you stared up at him. This was your last box and you’d really been hoping you would be able to get Carla’s van out of the driveway before he got home. “Um, I’m leaving.”

Hank closed the door behind him, you cried internally, knowing this would go bad. He threw his jacket on the table, his bag landing next to it. He reached for a glass and you started wheeeling yourself backwards, but he only got some water from the tap. 

“Was that Carla’s car outside?”

Your throat felt like sandpaper while you answered, “Yeah, she took me to physical therapy today, said I could borrow it. Self-driving, so I don’t have to worry about the pedals.” He already knew that, but you needed to say something to fill the silence. 

“How’s that going, the physical therapy?”

“Fine.”

This house is no longer a home. 

The thought nearly had you doubled over in grief. You didn’t think it was possible to lose so much in one night, but you should know better. It had already happened to you once. 

Maybe Hank was right, maybe you were a curse, a burden on any family you were involved with. Everyone you loved was doomed to die or leave. 

“I’m getting some feeling in my leg’s back. I can stand for about thirty seconds,” he turned back towards you, arms crossed and staring down at you. He hadn’t shaved in a while and his hair was starting to grow out of its usually cropped style. He was gaining weight too. 

“Thirty seconds?”

You flushed, feeling the need to defend yourself, “It’s a lot for someone who was never supposed to walk again.”

He nodded and the silence suffocated you. He was only twenty feet from you but he felt miles away. Like there was a never ending divide between the two of you. “I’m moving out.” You needed this to be done. You’d survived this heartbreak before, you would do it again. 

His gaze shot back to yours, “What?”

The hurt in his voice made you wish you had delivered the news more gently. “I found a place, it’s only a couple minutes away, rents cheap-”

“You don’t even have a job.” 

“Fowler helped me out, he’s letting me do some filing before I can retake the academy’s exam.” If I can retake the academy’s exam. Recovery wasn’t promised. “It’s enough for food and rent.”

“Were you going to tell me?” Were you? You had been planning on just leaving a note and going. 

“I didn’t think you’d care,” Hank scoffed and this time the glass he filled was with whiskey. By the time he turned around you had already left, the last of your things packed away in the car. You’d seen him running out onto the driveway as the car had taken you to your new home. 

There was a painful chasm in your heart at the sight of him watching you leave.

“I walked today, on my own, I didn’t have to use the bars or anything.” Your fingers fiddled with the edge of your comforter as you spoke to Carla. “I still feel like it’s not enough.”

“Más vale maña que fuerza, your physical body is not more important than your spirit, Y/N. If you can’t celebrate the small victories you're never going to heal. That’s a lot. I’m proud of you.” 

There were tears in your eyes and a thickness in your throat as you said goodbye and hung up. 

Fowler had been keeping you and Hank as separated as possible, different shifts, different days. But there was still the rare interaction. The both of you in the kitchen at the same time for coffee, Hank having to witness Gavin’s horrible attempts at flirting.

Sometimes when Gavin would give you a particularly bad pick-up line you and Hank would share a look that made your chest ache with a phantom pain of when you could laugh together about things like that. 

He looked pained every time he saw your cane. 

“On my honor, I will never betray my integrity, my character or the public trust. I will always have the courage to hold myself and others accountable for our actions. I will always maintain the highest ethical standards and uphold the values of my community, and the agency I serve.”

Carla was waiting for you with flowers after you were sworn in. She took you out to dinner and tried to distract you so you wouldn’t notice who was missing. She’d said goodnight and dropped you back at the station so you could grab your stuff and get your car. 

“You did it.” Hank was waiting at your desk, his coat in his hands.

“I did.”

“I’m,” sorry? Proud of me? You were honestly getting pissed off he was even talking to you. Months of radio silence and now, now, on your big night he wants to talk.

“Congratulations.” 

You scoffed, “Thanks, your heartfelt words mean so much to me, dad.” Perhaps it was cruel, perhaps you were being petty. You didn’t care, he was reopening the wound in your heart and it was weeping.

You’d worked so hard and for so long to heal yourself, you wouldn’t have him ruining that progress for you simply because he was, what? Bored? Trying to ease some guilt? 

“Hey, I’m trying, okay?” Fuck that and fuck him.

“Damage is done Hank, too little too late. I’m done with you. You turned into the person you saved me from.” Maybe that was too much, comparing him to the abusive shitbag that was your foster father. You told yourself you didn’t care, but the tears in your eyes at the sight of his distraught expression betrayed you. 

He walked away and while you were weak and in pain Gavin had appeared, asking if you were okay. 

You weren’t proud of what you did that night with him, of what you gave to him.

“Hank? Hello?” 

You’d made detective today, and Fowler, in his limited wisdom, thought Hank would be a good partner.

You know it hurt for him to see his best friend change so much, but seriously? 

Hank?

“You used to call me dad, you know that?”

Drunk. Again. Why’d he call you?

Why did you come?

“Come on, up you go.” You helped him to his feet and managed to get him to the couch before you collapsed under his weight. 

“When’d you stop being my little girl?”

Your heart clenched, but it was a distant pain, not as bad as it used to be. “When you stopped being my dad.”

Hank swung out in a dramatic gesture, just barely missing you, “That’s ridiculous. I never stopped, you, you’re not the same anymore.” You could say the same, but there’s no point in arguing with him when he’s like this. He leaned in close, examining your features. “You’re not her. You’re not my daughter, she died. She’s gone. This person, this you, I hate. I hate you because of what you took from me.”

There were tears clawing their way up your throat. Yet you still untied his shoes and grabbed him a blanket.

You still took care of him. 

“Get out! Get out of my house! It’s your fault they’re gone, I don’t want you around!” He threw his bottle, it just barely missed your head. Sumo started barking and he started grabbing more things to throw. You ran out the door, his drunken screams still following you. 

You ran and you kept running. 

At least you could do that. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Forget it.”

A/N: Is she talking to Connor, or to Hank?

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.

Join me for my Halloween Palooza

Video Games:

Arthur Morgan

Conflicted Spaces ONE-SHOT

Connor RK800

Broken Machinery COMPLETED (Series)

Idol Talk ONE-SHOT

Frayed Wires ONE-SHOT

Markus RK200

Idol Talk ONE-SHOT

Joel Miller

Alone and Forsaken / Part two COMPLETED

Karl Heisenberg

Yandere HC’s (DARK)

Lord Reader HC’s

Cooper Howard

How About a Nuke? Masterlist COMPLETED

The End of the Beginning Masterlist

In Love Crazy ft. Barb ONE-SHOT / HC's

Movies:

Kid? ONE-SHOT

Nasty Dog ONE-SHOT 18+

We're Dating? ONE-SHOT

You’re Not Her ONE-SHOT 18+

Broken Promises / PT TWO 18+

SFW & NSFW Alphabets

I Don't Know Why I Bite ONE-SHOT

Not Your Priority ONE-SHOT

Mistake ONE-SHOT

Big Bad Wolf 18+ part of Halloween Palooza

Chameleon ONE-SHOT

Kate & Leopold (2001):

Timeless ONE-SHOT

Slashers:

Bo Sinclair

Bad Day / Part Two COMPLETED

One More Spring ONE-SHOT

Vincent Sinclair

Bad Day / Part Two COMPLETED

Needy ONE-SHOT

Wicked Influence part of Halloween Palooza

end. - I do not own the characters or the source material, but this writing and OC’s are my own all rights reserved © not-neverland06 2024. do not copy, repost, translate & recommend elsewhere.

I think as a fandom we can all agree and say the movie is not canon, it never existed, it never happened

good night :)