Virus (Yandere Connor x Reader)

Forty-Two

(I'm not sure if there's going to be any smut. At the rate things are going, Connor won't have much time left to become a man, lmao.

We'll see how things progress. Let me know if you want it or not, please don't leave it up to me lmao.)

The weight of the blankets felt unfamiliar and uneven. They were also incredibly warm. Prying your eyes open you immediately realized why: they weren't blankets at all. The shock of dark hair belonging to your android obscured your vision when you tried to look down. Connor's head was on your chest, arms wrapped around you firmly while he slept. Noting the sunlight streaming in, he'd been in the exact same position all night. You brushed the hair from his forehead, not wanting to wake him. After the whirlwind of yesterday's events, he clearly needed the rest.

I should text Hank... make sure he knows Connor's doing okay. Cured, too. Poor thing just needs rest and attention, I suppose. He's in recovery, so...

You only lasted a couple minutes before you absolutely had to wake him up. "... honey, hey, come on... Connor. Wake up, hon." He didn't budge. "Hey, come on. You need to get up." Still nothing. "Oi. Connor. Some of us have agendas that need to be taken care of." You were nudging and poking at him, but he still didn't move. He was lying on his LED, so you could try to lift his head to reach it if he wasn't also laying on one of your arms. "...... RK800 if you don't fucking get up I'm gonna probably say stuff just to embarrass you. Come on, for fuck's sake."

Connor wasn't moving an inch, and you were getting worried. With some work and a lot of squirming, you freed your other arm. Now you were able to lift his head and brush his indicator. For a moment you were scared that even that wouldn't work, but at last he lifted his head himself. Slowly releasing his grip on you, his movements were sluggish. It was unusual for an android, but maybe he was just lagging.

His head turned upwards, so you could actually see his face, but you knew something was horribly wrong. Your android still seemed like he was in pain, the agony etching lines in his face.

Then the thirium spilled out of his mouth and onto you, and you were sorry to admit that you freaked out. Trying to rein in your panic, you helped Connor out of the bed and at least towards the bathroom. He clutched the sides of the sink, eyes mostly shut, trying to block out whatever was hurting so bad. The blue blood continued to drip down his chin, hence the sink.

[.... what....]

Moving as quickly as you were able, you first went downstairs to grab one of the thirium bags from the cabinet. It was brought with you into the bathroom, set aside for the time being so you could clean him up at least. The thirium he lost was gently washed from his face with a warm, damp washcloth. "Connor? Can you speak? Can you tell me anything about what you're feeling...?"

He had no stomach, so he couldn't vomit. He had no lungs, either, so there was no way to cough. But the blue blood spilled from his mouth again, and his head hung low. "S-something... not..."

His voice had taken the tone that humans with the flu did; full of liquid. But he could not pinpoint why it was coming out. All he'd done was sleep!

Laying a hand on his chest, you didn't force him to move his head. "... can you make it to the basement? I can run a diagnostic on you. If thirium keeps coming out, there's internal damage."

Pausing, Connor slowly removed his hands from the sink, taking a step back to test his balance.

The second he collapsed you dropped to the floor, elevating his head in your lap as you called Hank's number, hoping desperately he'd answer.

Which, to your luck, he did. "What the hell have you two--"

"Hank I need your help. Please. I removed the virus from Connor last night but now he's got thirium being forced out of his mouth. He... h-he's on the bathroom floor, and I'm not strong enough to c-carry him..."

Your voice grew more unsteady as you spoke. But halfway through your rushed plea you heard a car start up on the other end. "Hang on, I'm on my way," the lieutenant spat before hanging up.

The short amount of time you spent on your bathroom floor, silently crying and trying to figure out what had gone wrong, were the worst you'd experienced. The quiet sounds of fluid hitting tile only made you sob, unable to keep it to yourself.

He knew where you kept the spare house key, so Hank had no trouble with barging right in to find the two of you on the floor. "Shit, all right, come here," he muttered, scooping up the poor android easily. Connor barely glanced up at him, but ended up letting more blue blood spill out. "Where am I taking him? Basement?" You nodded and got onto your feet, trying not to think about the damage that may have occurred. You snatched the thirium bag as you followed the pair downstairs.

Hank laid him onto the table, trying not to frown at the fact that the kid looked sicker than shit. You were pulling up certain programs on your computer before pulling out a large device on wheels from a nearby cabinet. "I can run the diagnostic here. Can you grab me one of those boxes from the second shelf in that cabinet behind you?"

While he fetched whatever you asked for, you started to attach Connor to the machines. Hank ran a hand down his face. "What the fuck happened? He looks like he's in fuckin' pain."

"Because he is," you replied, busy trying to connect the thirium bag to the android. There was no way an android could use an IV, but it was close enough. If it couldn't be taken by mouth, there were other ways. You finally saw the other human's expression, and sighed. "Remember that central nervous system for androids? I just gave it to him last night."

"Perfect fuckin' timing," he grumbled. Whatever was happening inside the android was torture; Connor turned his head, losing still more thirium so forcefully that it sprayed. But his head faced forward again, wincing and unaware of the tears, and not able to control his cries of anguish. Something like recognition crossed Hank's face, and his voice went quieter. "It's all right, son. We'll fix this, we're not leaving you. You'll be okay."

Constantly wiping your eyes, you were scanning your android's body for whatever might have been damaged. "Shit, fuck, I got it," you said a little too loudly, moving the scanner out of your way. "Hank, push the LED on his head. It'll deactivate his skin so I can get into his chest, hurry," you pleaded.

As soon as the android shell was exposed you opened up his chest. Hank, who had stepped aside, kept a hand on Connor's shoulder. It only took two minutes total, and you ended up shrieking while you searched, but your hand jerked up and away from the chest cavity. "--Jesus fucking hell, what is that goddamn thing?!" he exclaimed loudly.

There was thirium smeared all over your hand, as well as on the vine that hung limp in your hold. Your eyes met Hank's. "... it was wrapped around his fuel pump regulator. That's why he was spitting thirium," you managed, biting at your lower lip before you started sobbing out of confusion.

Connor... honey... why did you have a vine wrapped around your heart...?