Returning upstairs, Hank had indeed made a quick escape. Gently gnawing your bottom lip, you caved and decided to ask what you intended. "Connor? Is there something about Hank I need to know?"
He gazed over at you, frowning a tiny bit. "It's not my place to say, but please don't be upset if he doesn't explain, either."
So it was something particularly bad. Nodding, you simply ventured towards the kitchen; it was quickly getting dark out, and you hadn't exactly eaten. There was a hardy attempt to make something, but the painkiller the EMT had given was wearing off fast, leaving your arm a fleshy lump of pain.
The way you covered the injury with a hand drew the android close. "Can you manage or would you like assistance?" You were at the counter, trying to at least chop vegetables. The bullet wound had other plans for you.
"It's fine. I'm fine." You were 100% NOT fine, but you were always stubbornly independent. Having to ask for some kind of protection- while you didn't regret it- was a blow to your pride. "I just need a minute, it'll be fine."
Despite the static in his head, Connor lifted a hand to turn your head and face him. "Your expression speaks for your state. I will locate medication for you, and I will not leave until it's been taken and the wound examined."
How his LED stayed blue was something of a minor miracle. But his duties did not limit him to just trying not to get you shot. If he was finally letting the emotions through, instead of being plagued by them, then it would make sense that his calm and collected demeanor would return. There were plenty of places to store medication, but the bathroom was a good start, so it's door opened and closed while he went in to search.
When footsteps approached behind you, there was a slight sigh of relief from your mouth. Leave it to an android to be the sensible one and not let your pride stop him.
Connor didn't hand you the painkiller, so... maybe he didn't find it after all? But he was directly behind you, to the point where you were stuck against the counter. His hands took your forearms, sliding down them until they covered your own hands.
His head moved right beside yours at the same moment you realized the sleeves of his jacket were white. "Make a sound and I'll kill you."
On the verge of screaming, you had to swallow it back down, only managing an unsteady exhale. Your entire body shook, fear enveloping you like the prototype was. Making any sort of motion seemed just as risky, and you squeezed your eyes shut, wishing you could somehow force your sweet, oblivious bodyguard to realize what was happening.
HOW THE HELL DID HE GET IN?!
"I have to say, I'm disappointed. You've led me on for so long... feeding me lies and misinformation... and in the end, I find you housing an inferior model." His grip on your hands loosened only enough to take your wrists. "Now I have to take care of the both of you."
"Don't fucking touch him," you hissed without thinking.
"You don't give me any other option. I don't care that he shot me." The prototype turned his head only just enough, so his words would go nowhere but into your ear. "I do, however, care that you seem so sweet on him. You had the upgrade all to yourself."
"You're a cold, unfeeling bastard," you spat back. The more you goaded him on, the more danger you were in. But it was buying time, and you desperately needed as much as you could get.
"Shame. He does seem like he'd be a loyal pet... albeit a slow one." One hand released your wrist, but the cold barrel of his gun pressed to your cheek. It quickly eliminated any thought of trying to fight him off. "While I should have killed you earlier, I'm... feeling generous. So tell me how you truly feel about me."
You really didn't know how much longer you'd be able to keep him occupied, but you never got the chance to open your mouth. There was only silence for a second before his head suddenly jerked to the side, and his grip on you faltered until he slowly stood upright again. The side of his head was trickling thirium, dribbling and staining the white jacket.
Connor- your Connor- had his weapon out, held in an odd position until you realized he'd struck the prototype with the butt end of it. As soon as the bastard was upright, your bodyguard aimed at him again.
The prototype gave a sort of crooked smirk, though it looked more like a sneer. "And just how well will you fare against a superior machine?"
"With a bullet wound in your throat, I'll be just fine in comparison," Connor shot back.
In a severe state of disbelief, you couldn't bring yourself to turn and watch. Were they seriously just bantering back and forth?!
While there wasn't much room for a lot of maneuvering, the RK900 moved first, defensively, to avoid the bullet shot in his direction. As soon as he moved away, you scrambled to get out of range of anything.
It didn't seem like they would get anywhere; after the first shot, it was like they'd forgotten about bullets. But there was a lot of punching from either side, though by the end Connor was pinned to the floor, the prototype's hand around his throat. The gun pressed to his forehead, but your bodyguard struggled nonetheless. "Do it," he rasped. "Shoot me... coward..."
There was another smirk. "Fear not. I'll make sure she suffers in your place." The gun was fired. Everyone HEARD it fire. But the bullet tumbled uselessly once the gun was pulled away; Connor didn't even have a scratch. "What--"
The sheer shock and confusion was the chance he needed; it threw the RK900 off-balance, and your bodyguard did not waste time subduing him, once he'd been shoved aside.
As the prototype went down, he had one final moment of clarity. While Connor's weapon was aimed between his eyes, he grabbed the detective's forearm before he could no longer remain functional.
A bulletproof android was something he hadn't anticipated, but neither was what he'd done after the revelation.
It wasn't just that he probed Connor's memory; he gifted the bodyguard with the details he'd never have found out otherwise. And he offered a final parting gift before the bullet destroyed his core.
Connor couldn't yet feel the relief of being rid of the other android. He'd been forcibly shown just what exactly the RK900 had done. And even as those particular horrors were put on repeat, he grasped his forearm. He'd been given memories, yes, but there was... something else. Something that didn't feel quite right, like a string of code in the wrong place. An algorithm with the wrong solution.
A single line of virus that needed only time to spread and fester, corrupting the host until nothing else remained.
YOU ARE READING
Virus (Yandere Connor x Reader)
Fanfiction[COMPLETED] Algorithm: A set of instructions or rules designed to solve a definitive problem. The problem may be as simple as adding two numbers or as complex as ridding the city of whosoever stands in your way.
