Origninal Over Fakes (Connor X Reader)

Chapter 13

Your POV

Am I a good person?

Based on the Bibles, no. I'm a liar. I kiss someone that I love but not married to. I've broken a few laws, and to some, I've even tried to play god. 

Does that justify if I'm a good person? The bible has been wrong about homosexuality and self harming people. 

I have excuses: bullied, abused, and almost died so many times, I could write an epic poem about the encounters.

No, those are not reasons that give me excuses to 'sin'.

But I've lied to protect someone. . . And in CyberLife's definition, I am right to do so if it is to complete a task. 

Am I a good person?

"You alright?" Rachel questions me as we stand, hands in our pockets as we are amongst the group of deviants in Jericho.

"You two really don't have to do this," I speak, softly smiling. "Aren't you guys suppose to get married in February or something? Work on repopulating the world because people will be so charmed to perfect looking androids?" I stand, pulling my hair back again. "You don't have to risk that."

The two are quite, trading looks before eyes returning to me. "We are rA9-- together. You'd probably be dead if our lives weren't on your consciousness so we are in this together so you don't do something stupid," she beams.

"Besides, we'd hate to see you depressed again. It's sort of funny to think that you like an Android," the man speaks.

"I can't help it: made to be perfect," I reply, smiling for the show despite the dark storm brewing behind the curtains.

"Well if that's the case, you better start to think of a way to reproduce," he replies, smirking.

"Shut up," I groan, playfully pushing the man.

My phone vibrates and I answer it only to hear, "Where the fuck are you?" Hank is really concerned-- I haven't been home for two days after handing Connor off to him.

"I'm. . . I'm trying to fix something really important," I answer. "I told you that I'd be away from a few days Hank."

"Your planning to do something stupid, aren't you?" He asks. "I'm old, but I've still got my intuition."

"Of course not." I scoff to through him off. "I'm not an idiot."

"Don't lie," Connor says. "Please, don't lie to me, (y/n)." I freeze up, hearing this new voice. Begging? There is a soft set of footsteps walking away on the other line.

Why does it hurt? It makes me want to go home and comfort him. . .

Begging-- I've only done it to others, never received it. Then I stopped begging. . . Because nobody would listen. . . I don't want to make the same mistake as those people: leaving a damaged thing alone. 

I learn from other people's mistake.

"Where are you?" He questions.

". . . Jericho." A hand covers my eyes as if I'm afraid that he'll be in front of me, disappointed.

"Whatever you're doing, don't," he states.

"I have to," I answer, taking a deep breath to calm the shaky voice. "Connor, this needs to be done."

". . . " I hate doing this to people. . . Leave them in the dark so they can see the light for the rest of their lives. It inflicts pain-- I hate inflicting pain. . . Anyone can hurt me but don't touch those that I love. "Can I do anything to help?"