Will You Trust Me? // Connor x Reader

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Intermission

09:23:07 PM;

20 December 2039.

Snow falls softly over Hart Plaza. A year and 39 days have passed since the Battle for Detroit between the humans and their machines. That day happened to be gruesome for both sides, one more than the other, however.

Since that day, both military and police forces have been busier than ever. Both worked to hunt down the remaining deviants and exterminate them in overly-glorified camps that claimed to be "bringing justice to the entirety of the United States." Those humans that had sided with the androids during the revolution were angered by this and had started protesting and rallying outside of military posts and local police departments. Many of those protesters were put in jail or fined for trying to liberate a "non-sentient race." If you were physically able to protest, you definitely would have been fined multiple times now.

In the days that had passed since the revolution, you were being held captive by a group of Polish sex traffickers that were based in downtown Detroit. No matter how many times you tried to escape them, you physically couldn't find the will to. Those men stuck you with syringes filled with new kinds of drugs ever since they caught you. At first it was Red Ice. And then the times started changing, and new forms of narcotics started brewing from the vats. After the age of Red Ice ended, the age of hefty overloaders began.

In your opinion, the overloaders were the worst. They caused their users to experience the extremes of all kinds of emotions all at once: euphoria, anger, confusion, ect. Most people took to killing themselves after using them due to the effects of extreme depression, so it was back to the drug lab again. Now the hot new drug was antimoxiphant, or A-MO for short. It was kind of like Red Ice, but it gave its users a stronger, more prominent high. And it was so much more addictive.

Currently, that's what Alik, the "head pimp" or whatever he liked being called, preferred feeding you. He told you that you were "a lot less aggressive while making love" while you were on it. That bastard knew exactly how to take advantage of you, even if his methods were illegal.

Those days you weren't being pumped with heavy dosages of A-MO, you thought about Connor. You thought about him every chance you were given. You wondered if he forgot about you, or if he ever returned with the androids from Belle-Isle. Hell, you didn't even know if North had won the war. You had very little faith that she did after what you had last saw of the battle, but it was still something. Maybe Connor died at CyberLife? All you wanted was answers... answers you would probably never receive if Connor were actually dead. You knew he would've found you by now... but you still had to have hope.

--

The sign of the CyberLife store near Hart Plaza had been unlit for 404 days since November 11, 2038. Nobody had entered it, nobody had even peered inside. The only people that had last looked at the store for more than 30 minutes were the workers that came to cover it up with a large, white sheet after the announcement of CyberLife's 3-year closure.

The bodies of both the WR400 and the RK800 still lie inside of that store. The thirium that had once stained their faces had now evaporated, the only remaining evidence of their showdown being the gaping holes that protruded both of their foreheads. Their mouths both hung open, their eyes lifelessly staring dead ahead at nothing.

CyberLife's Elijah Kamski was given a small amount of jail time for his unwillingness to provide answers to the android uprising. As a result of the battle and his uncooperative behavior, CyberLife as a company was sentenced to close for a total of three years while the city recovered. Unfortunately, this had drastic effects on Detroit's economy. It lead to the rise of many gang wars and criminal activities within the public streets, including a significant rise in the amount of sex and drug trafficking that was previously occurring in only small amounts. Groups of rioters appeared outside of the CyberLife Tower many, many times, protesting that the company give them their machines back.

The humans that previously owned androids before the war had no idea what to do with themselves after they were forcibly prompted to give up their assistants to be destroyed. The military took no chances. If there was an android to be found, there was a possibility that it was deviant. This alone, to them and the President both, was enough reason to send all androids to extermination camps.

In an attempt to boost the economy, smaller sub-companies of CyberLife began focusing their means of production on both prosthetic and cybernetic limbs for human use. They didn't do as well as the androids themselves, but it was enough to bring in some revenue. Still, the city continues to dangle by a thread as it struggles to feed itself with what little it still has left.

--

In a lonely neighborhood in the suburbs of Detroit, a dog sits anxiously near his drunkard owner. The large dog whines in an attempt to get the old man to pay attention to him, even nudging the man's leg with his big, wet nose. The man was too drunk to even comprehend the dog's gesture, however, and just grumbled to himself as drool dripped out of his mouth onto the wooden table underneath his face.

"Bufgh," Hank groaned, his eyes opening slightly and seeing the dark frame holding the picture of his son lying face down on the table in front of him.

Sumo whined again, nosing the old man's leg for a second time. He cocked his head to the right as he saw his owner start to stir from the table above him. He sniffed the air.

Hank would never verbally admit it to anyone, but he deeply wished for the company of that stupid android. The horror he experienced after realizing that he had killed his partner rather than the other machine back at CyberLife was absolutely unbearable, and he would've never known what to say to you about the matter after seeing you again.

He was confused as to why you had never returned from the battle seeing as you had texted him moments before leaving your reasons for doing so. He was only left to wonder if you had got shot right as you were leaving, or just simply didn't feel like coming back. If it were the latter, he could understand why. A young woman like yourself probably got tired of his alcoholic and harsh demeanor all too easily.

...If only he knew what your actual reasons were.