WARNING: fluff
REQUEST:
I have a request! I hope you don't mind!
I was thinking of deviant connor that is part of jericho. He kills humans who were abusive towards androids and basically thinks humans are a plague that needs to be wiped out, this was because he'd been mistreated when be worked for cyberlife and went rogue.
Y/N is a detective assigned to figure these mysterious deviant cases, but she runs across Connor.
The rest is up to you, of course, only do it if you want to!
reader: human
It's finally done! I hope you enjoy this chapter! I really enjoyed writing this series, even though it proved slightly challenging.
Also please leave me comments about how I did this chapter because I'm not too sure about it.
Part 3/3
For:
________________________________________________________________________________
It was an entire week until you returned to the station.
You had been hospitalized for neurogenic shock for five days in the Henry Ford Hospital. No one had been allowed to visit you in case they brought back traumatic memories. Connor would have visited, but Hank might have killed him if he did. The weekend came quickly and nobody heard from you.
Since the incident, Hank had locked Connor in his cell and put the handcuffs back on him. Connor didn't blame him. Imagine abruptly losing someone who was like a son to you. You thought he was dead, and as soon you find someone else to replace him, she is pressed up against a wall at gunpoint and almost dies.
Yeah. Rough.
And the worst part about all of it was that Hank saw a murderer in Connor. He knew Connor was a murderer, he knew Connor was a deviant, and he saw part of the deviant in Connor - the same deviant that had pressed his honorary daughter against the wall and sent her to the hospital for neurogenic shock.
Yeah. That android.
Connor couldn't blame Hank but he sure could feel bad about it. Without you around, he was secluded all day every day, watching the station work around him. He missed you and he missed you desperately.
After that week had passed, you came back into work. Everyone at the station had always treated you with a lot of kindness and the interns even looked at you with admiration. Now, everyone was tip-toeing around you. Other employees avoided you like the plague, purposefully moving out of your way when you walked down the halls or when you were working quietly at your desk. And you didn't blame them.
You looked... well, awful. There were dark circles under your eyes. You looked like you hadn't slept in days and you were walking more slowly than usual. Your desk, which was usually neat and organized was now a mess of paperwork and get well cards and office supplies. You were quiet and didn't say anything unless it was necessary.
Connor watched from inside his cell as you sat down at your desk and ran your hands through your hair. You closed your eyes for a moment and Connor could see the fatigue in your face. A pang of guilt hit him hard and settled in his stomach. He shouldn't have let you come into the basement with them.
You sat at your desk for another few hours, filling out paperwork and typing on your laptop just like normal. Connor could see the stress you were under.
Connor waited all day for you to come talk to him. He was unsurprised when you didn't move from your desk, and he didn't blame you. He could tell you were exhausted and unhappy. Any hope Connor had that you would visit him was quickly fading.
Connor closed his eyes, shutting out the station and the noises around him. He temporarily deactivated his audio sensor and tried to forget his feelings. Connor made the decision to be a deviant, but he didn't enjoy all the negative emotions that came with it. The pit of guilt was growing in his chest, and he was trying his best to ignore it.
He sat silently in his cell, deactivated, for a few hours. Connor awoke to the sound of a quiet knock on the glass doors. He opened his eyes and saw you standing outside. It was long after hours You were the only person still there; even the security guards hadn't arrived yet, but the lights were still on. You had stayed behind to talk to him.
You wasted no time in throwing your arms around Connor and squeezing him tight. Connor did the same, wrapping his arms around your waist and holding you close. You stood together in careful silence for a few minutes, taking everything in. Your eyes were closed and he was keeping a firm grip on you, resting his chin on the top of your head. A few tears escaped from your eyes and Connor pulled you closer, cradling comfortably you in his arms like he was a shield between you and the rest of the world. You hid your face in his chest and cried into his shirt for a few short moments.
You leaned back and smiled at Connor with a cracked, teary grin. "Thanks, Connor," you murmured, and the android pressed a grateful kiss to your hair.
You sighed. "I wish I didn't have to talk to you in a cell anymore. It's not fair."
"Do you think I'll ever get out of here?" Connor asked. You looked up at him sadly, and wrapped your fingers around his forearm in comfort.
"I don't know," you sighed, and rested your cheek against his chest. "I hope so."
Connor squeezed your waist and you stood together in silence for a few more minutes.
"Can I ask... why did you start killing people?"
He paused, and you looked up at him, worried.
"I was abused by humans my whole life," Connor began. "When I worked here... officers shoved me aside like I was just a piece of plastic. I got sick of it. Every case was another abused android. I just... I got sick of seeing that."
"I'm so sorry, Connor."
He shook his head. "I didn't want to live like that anymore. And I still don't."
You sighed. "I'm so sorry, Connor," you repeated. "I don't want you to live like that either."
Connor interlaced his fingers with yours and squeezed softly. "There's honestly not much left for me around here," he confessed. Your bright eyes darkened with sorrow and confusion and Connor quickly backtracked. "Not you," he said, squeezing your hand again. "I stay here because of you and Hank."
"But..."
"But he hates me," Connor sighed. "I know. But I also know he would be shattered if I left."
I would be shattered if you left, you think, your gaze falling on the concerned expression on his face.
"Where would you go?" You ask gently.
"Maybe Canada," Connor shrugs, giving you a smooth smile. You smile back but you can't help but think.
"Why don't you just leave?" You ask him. His eyes flutter to the front entrance of the station, but he quickly shakes his head.
"I couldn't," he said. "If I did I would either never see you again or I would be killed."
"Or both," you whispered under your breath. Connor noticed the worried look on your face.
"Hey," he murmured softly. "I'm not leaving." You met his gaze and he smiled reassuringly.
"I don't want you to leave, Connor," you admitted. "I want to help you."
"I'm not going to leave," he murmured. He leaned down and kissed you softly. Connor pulled quickly pulled away and kissed your forehead. "I love you."
"I know. I love you too."
The front doors of the Detroit Police station opened. Voices came from the hallway, and the beams of flashlights peered into the main office.
"Security," Connor breathed, looking down at you with wide eyes. You stretched up to kiss him again, more deeply this time.
"Bye, Connor. I'll see you tomorrow."
