METAL GUARD DOG ⊳ connor x reader

Ch. XIV

"I was the deviant hunter." The information was true, though the moment Connor had said it out loud, it sounded rough, sharp, unforgiving, maybe even terrifying. Not the way he had intended it to.

"You..." (Y/n) stuttered out, unable to think of a way to respond to it. She came to a slow halt, and, almost instinctively at that point, so did Connor. "You're the deviant hunter." She finally stated, more to herself than to the deviant, taking a deep, somehow frustrated breath.

"What kind fo sentiments does this information cause?" He asked, seconds of rat squeak-accompanied silence later.

"I mean, it's...I read about you in history books. I learned about you in school, I— Jesus Christ." She buried a hand in her hair and bit her lip. "And you're a deviant?"

"Yes."

"But...But we were taught that you were a machine. A ruthless, cold, efficient-" She stopped herself before going any further. "How? How did you become a deviant?"

"When I tracked down the revolution leader, he turned me into one. He made me realize that I was more than...than what I had been created to be. Or that I could at least hope to."

(Y/n) nodded quietly and resumed walking, however slowly, as if she were deep in thought.

"Kind of ironic." She finally added, voice echoing against the cold walls. "I never knew."

"How could you? I deactivated myself shortly afterwards." Connor finally admitted.

(Y/n) immediately turned around to face him, pupils blown wide, in spite of the already flickering neon goggles. "The gunshot wound in your chin. You...you did that?"

"Yes."

(Y/n) huffed, fists clenching, jaw clenching as she bit her lip, avoiding his gaze. A flicker in her eyes was enough for Connor to realize that he had somehow...angered her.

"What did you think you could achieve if you put an end to your life?" Unspoken, concealed feelings, so much more than just the anger and frustration were audible in her voice—fear most of all. Though Connor failed to deduce why.

"I'm sorry, I-" He croaked out reluctantly, voicebox malfunctioning. "I don't think I understand what you mean."

"You killed yourself. You abandoned the other deviants." She explained hastily, then paused abruptly, and it reminded Connor of the idiom 'the calm before the storm'. One was most certainly brewing up inside of (y/n). "How am I supposed to trust someone that left their people for dead?"

His systems suddenly exploded with boiling hotness, pulse hammering against his skull and against his neck. Her words had struck a nerve, or a wire, in Connor's case, and they had struck it well enough to make him inhale sharply and clench his fists. (Y/n) had no right to come to such conclusions when she barely even knew anything about his past.

"Rather bold of you to assume I had a choice."

If he'd still have a LED, it'd be flashing red at this very moment, he was sure of it.

"There's always a choice." (Y/n) finally spit out. That was enough to bring Connor to his end, he failed to summon everything that he believed defined him: professionalism, calmness, patience. For a second, there was none, and that moment was enough to break down Connor's emotional restraints.

"Says the girl that held me hostage."

The words were quick, fast, yet spoken in an unusually calm manner, and had damn right done their job. A punch of words straight to the gut, a slap of verbal venom right across the face—the perfect metaphors for his sentence.

Had he just...snapped?

The words were surprisingly spiteful, and the manner in which Connor had blurted them out surprised even himself. He wasn't made to react like this. He was made to be rational, logical, reasonable, considerate. To work harmoniously with humans, as he had once stated himself.

He had no idea if (y/n)'s tone, or his rather unsettling surroundings, or the fact that she just wouldn't listen had angered Connor, but he knew he regretted his choice of words more than anything.

Her lower lips trembled as she was left wordless, and she quickly rushed to bite it and turn her head away to conceal it.

"I never— I never thought that that was how you saw me. I tried— I-I..." A strangled sigh moved past her lips. "You're right. I was using you, and that was wrong. I didn't mean— You're free to go. Do as you please."

The promise of complete freedom was somewhat bittersweet, he concluded moments of heavy silence later. Yet Connor couldn't deny that they were all too alluring. Alluring enough to make him take a reluctant, faltering step backwards, away from (y/n).

She had picked up on it, gaze flicking to his moving foot for just a millisecond before returning to his face. Deep-rooted...sorrow was carved into her expression.

She buried her hands in the pockets of her coat, fished out a pair of glasses similar to hers. Connor realized she must've stolen them from one of the cops.

She fidgeted with them, finally breaking off a small piece and discarding of it before folding them neatly.

"Well...well then. Take these, you'll need them. I removed their tracker, so you should be able to use them." She took his hand in hers and pressed the object into the palm of his hand. "I don't want to...I-I don't know. It feels wrong to just-" She took a deep shaky breath. "Never mind. Doesn't matter. See this as a parting gift, or an apology, or...whatever. It's the least I can do."

There were so many feelings Connor could literally pour out of her voice, yet she didn't dare touch upon. Why exactly, he supposed would be a mystery.

Connor closed his fist around the object, watching (y/n) slowly back away without another word.

"Is this a goodbye?" He asked, slowly moving his gaze towards hers.

"Depends on what you wanna do. I'm not gonna force you into anything, not again."

He was a deviant, but Connor hadn't ever really gotten the chance to chose so freely. At least not like this. His impulsive side, one he had met rather recently, whispered sweet promises to him, of a better, carefree life, without boundaries or relationships or obligations. Just himself and nothing else. His rational one, however, was against it, literally screamed at him to go after (y/n), because she was still his best chance of survival.

"I don't know." Connor answered with unmistakable honestly. "I don't know."

"It's alright. Whatever you decide, you...you know where to find me."

(Y/n) sighed inaudibly and finally began walking away into the inky darkness, her silhouette disappearing as soon as she took a turn to her right, slow steps echoing down the tunnel.

And just this once, Connor decided to let his impulsive side win.

Besides, what was there better to do than exploring Detroit, a city he knew, yet didn't?