Virus (Yandere Connor x Reader)

Thirty-Four

(Hank I am so sorry.)

While you were left to wallow in shame, the android was still working through his bewilderment as he drove away. The lieutenant's car was gone, so Connor changed course to head to the precinct. He'd intended to in the first place, but now he had to get the confusion sorted before anything else.

The violet dress shirt in hand, he walked in and right past the security gate; there was, after all, only one RK800. Admittance was not an issue.

Hank, already at his desk, glanced up and saw his partner, knowing somehow that the day was going to be a shitshow. "You know, usually when people have time off from their job, they don't keep showing up anyways."

There was a frown on Connor's face. "I'm not here to work. I need to speak with the Captain about... last night's events."

Eyebrows going up, the human sighed through his nose. "That was fucked up. You two are okay, right?"

The frown eased a little. "She is unharmed. And while I'm also uninjured..." The android looked away, visibly hesitant. "This is why I came in, Hank. I wouldn't involve myself like this so soon, but... he shot me."

Sure, the kid was bulletproof, but Reed had no idea until the bullet fell to the ground. Hank sat upright and leaned forward. "Are you fucking serious?" he whispered harshly.

The purple shirt was unfolded to show the hole, the offending bullet in the android's other hand. "While I don't have his weapon details in my data, I'm certain the ballistics match the bullet. Which means he used the force-issued one." The bullet was pocketed again, shirt folded back up. "Hank. Reed tracked me down, armed. I'm fortunate enough to have not been affected, but..."

"But he could have decided to shoot her, too," Hank finished for him. With a groan he laid his forehead on his desk. "This dumbass is risking everything, all over a "yo mama" joke."

This may have been his chance. Connor sat in the chair in front of the lieutenant, speaking softly. "Hank. I need to ask something. You won't like it, I already know, but I've run out of ideas."

There was a lot that confused the kid. Head still down, he waved a hand to let the kid continue.

What came out of the android's mouth was the last thing he expected- or wanted. "... what's the purpose of a girlfriend or romantic partner calling me Daddy?"

Hank had raised his head, staring with a deadpan expression. His mouth stayed shut as he got to his feet and walked away, making a beeline for Jeff's glass office. "I need to go home, I'm feeling sick," he muttered to the Captain.

Fowler looked up, gazed at the lieutenant, then to the android who'd followed. "Everything all right? Stomach bug?"

"No. Worse."

"... Hank, just spit it out."

"My twenty-something adopted mechanical son needs the sex talk because his girlfriend called him Daddy and now I wanna puke."

One second went by before Jeff threw his head back, laughing so hard he was heard even through the glass.

Exasperated, Hank bared his teeth. "Stop laughing!! It's not fucking funny!"

"You're right about that," Jeff replied, wiping his eyes as he settled down. "It's hilarious. And the answer is no, by the way. You're staying here and giving the kid the sex talk he needs." As the lieutenant made to leave, the Captain went on. "Look at it this way, Hank: he can't have kids."

"I'm not drunk enough for this," he muttered again, going back to his desk and running a hand down his face. "I'll never be drunk enough for this."

This wasn't helping. Connor leaned forward a little, keeping his voice down. "Hank, I don't need you to explain sex. Just what she meant by calling me D--"

"Shut. The fuck. Up. Use that word again and I'll deck you." It didn't explain anything, and they both knew it. Crossing his arms, he finally sat back in the chair. ".... it's..." What was the least painful way to explain? "... it's a kink. Most people have 'em, there's a ton of different ones. That... one... is more common." Judging by the lack of understanding on the android's face... "... fucking hell. A kink is-- why the fuck am I telling you? Go ask her!"

"She seemed withdrawn afterwards."

"... ah. Slipped out. Well, you can ask her about what it is because I'm done with this conversation."

"Hank, you're right here--"

"DONE, CONNOR. DONE." When the android had resigned himself to giving up, the lieutenant groaned again. "Listen. I get that you have a shit ton of questions about stuff. And that I'm usually available to explain. But... that kind of stuff? Don't tell me. The last thing I need is HOLY SHIT." He'd actually gotten to his feet, seeing red for a moment. "HEY, SPARKY."

Reed. He had on more casual clothes, with a hood pulled up. It did nothing to block the disaster that was his face. Being called for, he stopped walking, but didn't turn for a little while. The "Sparky" jab only pissed him off further, but he'd gone sullen. One eye was swollen shut, and he was half wrapped up in bandages.

"..... Jesus," Hank mumbled, getting up and approaching the detective for a better look. Connor was right behind him, just as alarmed. "Jesus Christ, what happened? You look like you got in a fight with a sledgehammer and lost."

When there was no response, the android stepped in. "Detective Reed, perhaps you need to speak to the Captain about this... Maybe request to be put on light duty while you heal. If you like, I can put a good word in for you." He smiled gently, keeping the concern on his face. "You dislike me, but... we don't want you to be out of a job. If someone assaulted you like this, we need to look into it. As a matter of fact..." he trailed off for a moment. "... I'll volunteer to figure things out."

Even Hank looked skeptical, but Gavin stayed silent. "Connor. You two barely acknowledge each other. I mean, fuck, last night--"

"May not have been his fault, Hank," the android interrupted. Glancing at Reed, he nodded. "Let the Captain know. I'll join you in a moment." Even so, Reed had to tear himself from where he stood to head for Fowler's office. ".... Hank," Connor went on, "considering how things have escalated, I'm beginning to suspect there's a deeper concern."

"... how do you mean?" the lieutenant replied, curious.

"The hostility. The attitude. All of his problems that just keep adding up over time. And last night he did terrible things, yes, but they seemed out of character." His voice lowered. "I'm convinced something is wrong with him. Something out of his control. I will look into this situation but I also want to research and see if there are patterns. It could be a mental illness that's gone undiagnosed. Or he's on the verge of a mental breakdown. He seemed... paranoid, just standing here." His mouth thinned. "He hates me but I will be the bigger man and look into it. It goes against my judgment, as my date was harassed, but... if he has a genuine issue, it would explain a lot."

[The only genuine issue is the organ still beating in your chest, Reed... You will be closely watched, until you go mad of your own accord. Or you die by my hand. Either will suffice.]