Dechart: Become Connor

Emily 7

"No casualties? They just aired a message and left?" I ask captain Allen. Luckily the news tower got attacked midday so my life could have some kind of action.

"Yeah, as soon as the SWAT team rushed them they ran off."

"Are there any witnesses still here?" Hank asks.

"Not human ones. The androids are stored in the kitchen since we didn't know what else to do with them." Allen tells us, walking off.

"They were let in by a deviant." Connor says, returning to us. "There's no sign of forced entry and an android was monitoring the cameras."

"That was quick." I comment with a teasing smirk smile, making his LED blink for a fraction of a second.

"The androids are in the kitchen." Hank says, leaving Connor to do the hard work. I walk over to the still fresh blue blood and bullet holes on the wall. The deviants didn't fire back. Why did they shoot at them?

"The recording shows their leader Markus peacefully demanding freedom for the androids." Hank says as he joins me.

"The deviants didn't shoot back or kill anyone. They were completely passive." I reply, looking over at him. Suddenly an android burst from the kitchen and runs for the exit, but Connor doesn't follow. I run to the kitchen, seeing Connor crawling on the floor to his pump regulator. "Connor!" I call out and help him return the necessary part.

"Its deviant!" He shouts, immediately running after it. I follow to the hall to see the deviant holding an automatic gun, ready to fire. Connor doesn't hesitate to take a gun from an officers holster and shoot one nice shot through its head. Everyone takes a moment, realizing we could've all died.

"Connor-"

"I'm fine Emi- detective Bowie." He states, walking away and leaving. Hank is still next to me catching his breath from the scare, but I don't wait for him. I run after Connor and catch him in the elevator.

"Hey!" I call out, running in with him and grabbing his sleeve.

"What is it, detective?" He asks formally.

"You're hurt." I breathe out.

"I don't feel pain, Detective, and the damage will be easily repaired by cyberlife."

"You could've died."

"I'm not alive." He reminds me. I don't hesitate to slap him hard across his stunning face, making him look curiously at me.

"Yes you are." I growl between clenched teeth. I'll prove it. I pull out my combat knife and hold it to my throat, letting it cut into my skin enough for blood to roll down my collarbone.

"Detective-"

"I can't do this anymore Connor. I don't want to live. I'm done." I say. "I wish I wasn't alive." I prepare to slice my throat, ready to die if it meant proving a point. He instantly stops me, throwing the knife to the floor and holding my wrist.

"What are you doing?!" He asks harshly.

"What does it look like?" I ask, tears streaming down my face.

"Why?" His eyes express fury and desperation, they show humanity.

"Why stop me?" I ask, squinting my eyes.

"Because you don't deserve to die!" He shouts.

"You're just programmed to say that shit. You don't care and neither does anyone else." I spit. His LED blinks crazily but his lips stay parted. The elevator doors finally open so I push him away from me, grab my knife and leave the building. I call for my car as I wait in the pouring rain as I mentally review what I've even accomplished. We caught a deviant and figured jack shit out, so who cares? I've been slacking so much thanks to that fucking android and it isn't fulfilling to go home with no true progress. When my car arrives, I go home and crawl into bed without changing into comfy clothes. I'm not tired, so I don't even bother closing my eyes, I just lay here trying to numb myself. I don't care about this mission anymore. I don't care about this job anymore. I don't care about Connor or Hank or anything anymore. I feel my phone buzz in my pocket and I pull it out to see Hanks contact calling me. I decline it and rest my hand again only to feel it go off again. "Why won't you just leave me alone?" I mutter to the emptiness in my room. I decline it again and sit up. I hadn't even turned a light on. I didn't even notice until now. My phone goes off again and this anger boils from deep inside, making me throw my phone at the corresponding wall. I'm done with everything. With what happened at the chicken feed. At the batting cages. With Hank. With rejection. With being used. Hot tears rush out of my eyes and I quietly sob in the darkness, unsure of what time it even is or if my phone is still functional. No one cares. A fact I've known for years now. The reason I don't open up. I let myself cry until I pass out, to let everything I've been feeling escape. To let myself be numb for tomorrow.