Blame It On Me (RK800 + RK900)

Blame It On Me

Connor was alone. Truly and terrifyingly alone. For the first time in so long he didn't have someone by his side. It was horrible to look down and not see a hand, a leg. To not feel a reassuring touch whenever he got jumpy.

And everything was his own damn fault. If he'd just... listened. Connor was never good at that, everyone told him, he spoke to much. Too opinionated. Too loud.

"Shut the fuck up Connor I'm watching the game."
"Tin cans like you should be seen and not heard."
"If you would just shut the fuck up!"

But he never asked him to be quiet. He listened to Connor for hours, staring at him with such love. Admiration. He was the only one that looked at him like that. Not even Hank, who merely put up with Connor. Well at least... he did. He wouldn't have to worry about Connor anymore.

Because fuck.... Conrad. Just Conrad and everything about him. His eyes, his smirk, his hair. His personality, how he smiled at Connor when he was unsure. He used to hold his hand when Connor felt extra emotional. Conrad held him through the times when everything seemed so much. When Connor truly felt like he couldn't go on.

The RK800 was so fucking weak. He knew that. Trust him, he knew all to well. The times he suddenly came out of shutdown with images of all those androids. The boat, the Tracis. Markus. Connor had more or less single-handedly brought down the Android revolution with that single shot. RA9, the images that sometimes flashed across his optical processors of the lifeless look on Markus as thirium dripped from the bullet hole.

And that bitch Amanda, with her thanks and then trying to replace him? It was like a switch, and he felt everything. The pain and happiness and anger. How lost he truly was. He initially stayed at Hanks but then Cyberlife came after him. He was too advanced to wander around as a deviant. He remembered when he first met Conrad. He had logged it so he could never forget.

Connor was terrified. He had stayed in this crate for days, unsure of when it was safe to exit. He promised Hank he'd be safe. That he'd come back, it was his mission. He didn't fail a mission. The thought made him wince, Connor didn't want to think about his last mission. Markus, and Jericho and the flames and the gunshots and shit now he was thinking about it.

Him and his fucking thoughts had made him grow careless, he wasn't sure if he accidentally kicked something or if he was moving around too much but the next thing he knew there was... him? But not him, better than him. In every way possible.

He was tall, taller than Connor. His hair was much darker and straight unlike Connors wavy brown locks. Even in the dim light Connor could make out his solid form, broad shoulders and muscular arms. And RA9 those eyes. They were otherworldly, strikingly blue. Connor shivered as they bore into him, no doubt scanning him. His voice, warm like honey. Smooth but deep and rough at the same time. Entranced, Connor forgot how dangerous this android was.

He was no doubt here to take Connor back, to be destroyed. But how could something so beautiful be so dangerous? Like a dagger, it's handle intricate and shining in the sun, but get too close and there is a gash and blood. So much blood.

There was blood, Connors arm was bleeding due to a bullet shot from no other than the beautiful specimen in front of him. "They said dead or alive, but I'd prefer to not hear your begging." Connor panicked, launching himself at the android. His skin dissolved, the white underneath glowing blue as he desperately tried to wake up the android. It was a lost cause, until the RK900 lost his footing and then Connor had a good grip. Everything was a blur as they fought, all the while Connor attempted to convert him. There was a few punches thrown, but then the fight left the RK900 and he stilled.