QUOTE COMPENDIUM ⊳ connor x reader

Ch. III

"Can I have a look?" The young woman pointed at the collection of Hank's CDs between their seats. Only then Connor realized how little he had listened to music in the past three years.

"Of course." He nodded, ignoring the way his wires felt like they were twisting in his abdomen. There it was again. That dreadful sentiment, pressing down on his shoulders and numbening around his Thirium pump.

Silently, while Connor focused on the road, avoiding small bumps here and there, struggling to ignore said feeling, she got to work between their seats.

"Jazz!" (Y/n) exclaimed, pulling out one album and inspecting it closer. She set it in her lap, then resumed her search. "Rock, too. And— Oooh, noo. No way."

Struggling to identify if her reaction was one of disbelief, or one of disgruntlement, Connor raised a brow at her, momentarily taking his eyes off the road.

And almost choked on thin air when he saw her holding Hank's favorite album.

"Corrupted Deathwhisper." (Y/n) read the title out loud. "By Knights of the Black Death. Hoo, boy, my dad used to love these guys! I remember one time he-"

"Could you...put it back?" Connor asked, only then taking note of how...pained his voice sounded.

"No need to get embarrassed about your music tastes. I mean, I'd never taken you for a dark heavy metal guy, but I'm not-"

"Please put it back." Connor asked again. God, he sounded absolutely pathetic, didn't he?

"Sorry." She complied quickly, storing it back between the seats, then put the other albums back too. "I wasn't-"

"It's okay." He drummed his fingers against the steering wheel. To cool down his overworking processor, Connor took a deep, calming breath.

"You okay there?"

"I apologize, but I..." Connor bit his lip, at loss of words. So far, he had really enjoyed her company. The last thing he wanted to do was drive (y/n) away.

But then again, that's what he always did, wasn't it? Scare people away. He had betrayed Amanda, betrayed Cyberlife, accidentally destroyed Jericho, and so many other little things. And yet he had been forgiven, always. By Hank, by Markus, by Cyberlife... He didn't deserve any of it.

"Just say no if you don't want me to play it." She assured him, interrupting his chaotic string of thoughts.

Connor took a deep breath before solemnly saying a meek, whispered: "No."

"There you go." (Y/n) smiled, leaning back in the leather car seat. "Feels...liberating to straight up say no sometimes, doesn't it?"

Liberating, yes. He supposed that was an adequate word. In spite of his deviancy, the times when Connor acted entirely based on free will had been rare. But he had to admit it felt wonderful, like something heavy had been lifted off his chest, or like entering a cold room after walking in the heat for too long. Soothing.

He nodded.

"I love this. Just...the idea of listening to your thoughts for once. Speaking out exactly what goes through your mind." (Y/n) explained, her gaze trained on the road in front of them, taking in the scenery. "Feels childlike at the same time too."

"Childlike?" Connor asked, brows furrowing. Sure, he hadn't exactly interacted with many children, but he couldn't tell what exactly was supposed to be puerile about honesty.

"Yeah. Like, when you're a kid, you can't even be bothered to make up lies. Whatever goes through your head also gets said." She shrugged her shoulders nonchalantly. "Makes things easier."

"Hm." Maybe she was right, Connor thought to himself. When it came to trivial things, honesty was a much appreciated trait. However other times, lying seemed more...adequate. To avoid a certain conflict, for instance. Not like Connor was or had ever been particularly good at lying, though.

(Y/n) only offered a whimsical smile as a response, then turned her attention to their surroundings. They were passing through an open, rural area with fields reaching as far as they could see.

She rested her head against the window, then spoke up.

"Tell me about yourself, Connor." (Y/n)'s voice was soft, yet had a certain playful, curious undertone. Upon noticing that he was silent, the continued. "Anything. As trivial or as specific as you want."

Connor decided it'd be easiest to start with his job.

"Well, I...I work for the Detroit Police Department. I have recently been promoted to the rank of Sergeant, and I focus on homicide, both human and Android cases."

"Woah, that's so cool. Makes my part time job as a waitress sound really boring, doesn't it? Not like it isn't anyways." She looked at him in pure awe for a few more seconds, watching the way he avoided her gaze. Connor didn't exactly receive compliments often, and was quite horrible at accepting them. "So, an Android detective...where have I heard that before?"

"I was a part of the Android revolution 21 years ago. That could explain...how you've heard of me."

"Oh, so I take it you were one of the Android messiah's buddies?"

"No, I...I was the deviant hunter."

"Oh."

Silence plagued Connor's car.

He had done it again, hadn't he? Ruined every single chance of becoming her friend. Connor was already expecting for (y/n) to ask to be dropped off at the side of the road or something of the sort.

"Didn't know I had the honor of speaking to the Deviant Hunter himself." She broke the silence, causing Connor to shift his gaze back towards her. "Or, as my history books described him-" She lowered her voice, and as far as Connor could tell, she was mocking the tone of an overly dramatic narrator. "The lonely, ruthless machine that hunted deviants tirelessly, like a bloodhound looking for prey."

She completed her sentence with a chuckle. It was comforting to know that although the history textbooks had gone slightly overboard with his characterization, (y/n) still had a different opinion about him. Hopefully.

"While I was ruthless, I don't think lonely would be adequate. I have— I used to have a partner. Hank Anderson."

"Tell me about him." (Y/n) demanded, resting her hands in her lap and looking at Connor in a way he couldn't...explain. So whimsical, yet also soft, and understanding—absolutely alluring. "What's he like?"

"A hard-boiled, eccentric police Lieutenant." Connor explained half-heartedly, swallowing down a mouthful of synthetic saliva. There it was—that lump in his throat, that emptiness in his chest.

"I'd like so meet him sometime."

"He's...Hank's dead."