Pairing(s): Connor/Gender neutral Reader, One-sided Reader/Original Male Character, minor relationships mentioned throughout.
Warning(s): Major and minor character death, gore, sensitive subject material, Android prejudice, implied abusive relationships/abuse of power.
Universe: Pre-game canon. Soulmate au(s), most prominent one is the colourblind until you touch them au.
Reader: Undesignated gender/sex. "They" pronouns.
Word Count: 27,649 (split into chapters for easier viewing)
A/n: This fic is already complete and may be located on my Ao3 account in its complete form. Yes, the reader dies in this fic. No, I cannot change that. I have elected to split this up into chapters for easier viewing. This was written before I had completed the game (I had ended after Kara's second chapter initially I believe), so some canonical game facts in this fic will be wrong. I apologize for that. For those of you who decided to stay and read this, thank you. I will be updating this every day or two days - or maybe later, depending on how well I remember.
All favourites and reviews are well appreciated and helps motivate me to keep writing. Thank you for your support!
I fell in deep when you touched my skin
Chapter One
Connor's third mission went a little less than expected.
He thought of it most often when he was able to, rewound his own footage to review it, to assess it - not for what he could have done better but just for his own personal reasons. If he dreamed, it might have crept in there, a thing of promises and dread. It was the one that has so far left the biggest impression on him, had threatened him with dismantlement, was the one that haunted his steps for each new mission he took afterwards.
It had been the one where he had found you.
He could recall the first time he saw you, could recall the exact shade that had pulsed beneath your skin. Detroit was quiet for once, about as quiet as one could expect from an overpopulated city. He has known only the bustle of it, the thrum of the city at its finest.
Hope is a thing drilled into him from the beginning - something that is placed so deeply within his core and mechanics that he it could not easily be overwritten by coding. It would help keep his stability, especially with the things that he saw everyday as he did with his occupation. Hope for something after all the pain and torment. Without it, he might have crumpled if he were anything but an Android - if he had been a Deviant, perhaps.
Connor stepped forward and took note of his surroundings. The sunlight dappled through the summer trees and a few leaves skittered across his path - the sky a pleasant shade of [colour located: blue] . He flicked his gaze towards it, watched the subtle shift of clouds through the atmosphere. He could feel a sense of ease as he watched it all pass by - a small sense of wonder that he could , that he was built to view it as he was. Small things like that tended to pique his interest - a small glimpse of all the good things left in the world.
The scene he walked onto was anything but. The other police members on the case gave him a nod at best, a look of revulsion at worst and he took it in stride, took little note of them. "Hello, I am Connor, the Android sent by CyberLife. I am here to help assist," he introduced himself as he tapped the senior officer on scene.
The officer backed off, eyes far more than wary and guarded. Connor knew that he had to have been there due to a Deviant but his capabilities to assist would extend past that. CyberLife would not waste time nor effort to send him somewhere where he was not needed. He tried for a smile, the expression easy to fall onto his face but perhaps the humanness of it set the other off. Their look of wariness turned sharply into unease.
"The other Android is over there," the officer retorted, took a step back to create distance. Connor's smile faltered, swayed completely then fell. So that was how it was. He could feel a hum in his body, the familiar tone as his LED shifted to the well-documented orange. Not that he has ever seen it.
His gaze followed the finger, noticed the Android by the curb, LED a dark and angry hue. Connor sighed, straightened his tie then strode over, careful to avoid contact with the few cops who glared at him feverently. He did not want to coerce them into aiding him when they looked just as likely to assault him.
He approached the fellow Android, watched them watch him back. He was reluctant to admit that they looked like a Deviant, could see the jagged edges and broken shards that humans saw in them if he tilted his head just enough. Connor crouched and made certain not to initiate unwarranted contact. "You did not need to be detained," he spoke. It was odd to say the least.
The Android nodded, its eyes cast upon the body in the street. Connor turned his gaze there. Its blood pooled around its chest like a hula-hoop laid flat. He glanced back. The Android's expression was fairly stricken, full lips pulled down into an exaggerated frown.
In its eyes did Connor see the Deviantness, the blades of emotions and how jaded it was. The eyes of someone who had lost hope. Connor has seen it enough in his line of work, in the world's victims and those who had suffered too much. An Android turned Deviant not by choice but by situation - but a Deviant nonetheless.
"No," the Android spoke and above the mechanical vibrations that he could detect, he heard a familiar overturn of masculinity. The Android turned his head just slightly in inclination towards Connor but his eyes never strayed from the corpse once yet. "I did not cause this - I would not have hurt them. So I didn't need to be - ..." His trailed off then, not reluctant but certainly at a loss for words.
Connor frowned. In his mind, he struggled with the very definition of Deviant - there were the tell tale signs of Deviancy in his stature, in the very way that he spoke, the shuffle-click of his tongue against teeth. Connor had never before been sent to handle an Android who had Deviated but remained with its owner. This was most unusual. Deviants usually attacked the humans. His head tilted and - [software instability] - he closed his eyes.
"I see," he spoke. The only solution as to why he was brought here was to assure that the Android was sent back to CyberLife then. His location and recovery skills so far had been remarked upon positively. If he simply had the Android comply it would go a lot smoother and quicker. "You know you'll have to come back with me, don't you?"
That was when the Android turned to properly look at him and his pupils contracted against the filtration of the sun and a bit of hyperfocus on him. His expression tightened into something alike to disapproval and anguish, so human that Connor almost would have thought that they should have sent a human in his stead. Androids dealt with Androids though. "I will not leave them," the Android spoke finally, his voice objective and low. His bloodied knuckles tightened around his knees. He jerked his chin towards the body. "I want to be with them. Until the very end."
Connor let out a breath. A Deviant who had utmost loyalty to their owner … he shook his head. He wasn't quite amazed but certainly knew it was out of his predictions for the case. It surely had to be a farce. He turned his gaze back, let the statistics run through his mind: [67% chance of success] . Alright. He'd gather more intel.
He stood up, clasped a hand on his shoulder, barely paid attention as his own hand melded into the familiar distorted pale skeletal structure before he took a step back. "I'll be back," he smiled then and unlike with the humans the Android barely batted an eye at it - merely set his jaw and turned his head back to the original angle. Without Connor's presence he seemed to have adapted an expression devoid of nearly anything. If the Android were Human, he might have guessed shock.
[New objective: retrieve information.]
"What happened?" Connor's voice carried well enough along the street, barely silenced the small chatter of some passersby as they stopped to look. The senior officer gave him a wide berth in lieu of an answer and Connor turned his questioning gaze upon another officer. She faltered under his look but her eyes sharpened quickly once his question registered.
"Some protestors got too frisky and involved the Android and the kid," the officer pointed to the few humans handcuffed, the Android, and the remains on the pavement in order. "Or that's what I gather from eye-witnesses that is." [Partial information attained.] Connor nodded, extended a hand towards the cuffed aggressors.
"Would they be willing to speak with me?"
"When they're already going to jail for second degree murder, assault of an Android and destruction of government property?" The woman smirked, "Please. Give me another charge to lay on them." Connor frowned long enough for her to roll her eyes at him and make a rough shooing motion with her hands. "Skat. Go deal with the Android. Wouldn't let us handle him, so you - handle him." Her smirk became a sneer pretty fast, "It's all the good you 'droids are at anyways."
His programming didn't allow for the jibe to sink in, for it to settle and to ebb at his consciousness, but he felt it just at the edges there all the same. He shouldn't consider the implication of her words, should let them roll off of him but - [software-] - no. He jerked his head away. He had a mission to complete - this woman was only in his way. Not an obstacle to be destroyed but to be considered then shuffled aside. Her help was no longer required. "Thank you," he informed her and she only squinted at him in response.
He barely spared a glance at the nameless Android, could only focus on the human remains now. Bodies like that barely affected him - he knew to expect it, especially in his line of work, so it barely hit home as the saying went, in fact it rarely even registered beyond something his visuals picked up on. As part of his operating start up he was tasked to overview photos of different rates of decomposition, to overview field work and how to operate solo.
His shoes scuffed across the ground, a noise that startled him more than it should have. He recalculated, adjusted his weight, then settled into a crouch similar to the one that he had used with the Android. He turned his attention to the body completely.
A plain pair of jeans, faded around the knees and well-worn by the defined threading on the sides. Scuff-marked shoes with soles grated down, so plenty of use as well. Definitely more comfort orientated than fashionable as it were - were they off on a quick errand? He sighed at the sight - if the media caught wind they would surely fawn over their age, bemoan about their lost youth. Spin it so that the Deviant was in the wrong surely. He didn't have a problem with it - just wished that his position didn't exist, that the world might have had no use for him. Of course it would always need him.
He patted down their body, checked their position, let his eyes roam around for the weapon. Of course it laid there, discarded yet. He reached over, already had analyzed its position and how far it had been thrown. A dark shadow of blood was drawn across the blade - his calculations drew the conclusion that a good three inches had been pressed into their body at the least. He could figure out the exact amount of time it took for them to die with that data alone.
The blood hadn't congealed very well along the blade nor anywhere else along the pavement - it still wasn't as tacky as it could have been. Then again he had been called almost immediately, hadn't he? He ran his index along the edge, let the blood rest against his tongue after. He analyzed the blood type immediately, the amount of red and white blood cells, any blood mutations and anything that would affect the blood count. Definitely human. He might have guessed that from the off-grey tone different from Thirium T13.
He adjusted his stance to better eye the body, to observe the dark spread of blood along the grey tones of dusted pavement. He pressed his fingers to the shredded shirt, felt the dampness of blood there. It was nice material but probably tore easily beneath the blade. He touched the frayed edges and felt the thin threads there. He count mentally count five incisions if not more. Fairly shallow so they were issued swiftly. It meant it likely wasn't premeditated then.
Connor let the edges drop, brushed his fingertips along the pockets to check for ID. He withdrew a wallet from the unzipped jacket, flicked open to the available cards. Name, birthday, height, all other available information. A few of the others detailed a bit of the Android's information - a permit to own as issued by a doctor. Not registered directly to the victim then. Peculiar.
Connor pocketed the case and thought to give it to the Android - Alex, if the license was to be believed. A quick scan had been in agreement of authenticity. He did not lack respect for the dead however, brushed his fingers against the flat expanse of their palms to ease them into a different position - and promptly stopped.
The calmed flush of blood was more readily available to his vision. The cool press of acute grey against the coat, the blue of the jeans. He saw it all, the first hues and shades that he had ever witnessed before in his short life. He dropped their - your - hand and slowly stood up.
[Software Instability. ^]
[Software Instability. ^^]
His fingers clenched, curled into his fists. He closed his eyes, listened to Amanda's warning hum at the back of his consciousness. When he opened them again the first burst of colour that he noticed was the shock of blood around you, enough spilled to have cemented your fate. [Red], his mind supplied, so unlike the stark contrast of the metallic blue of Android blood. Connor's gaze flicked towards your face, the angle of your cheekbones, the press of hair against skin, left there by dried sweat. The gentle tone of your shirt, most likely your favourite colour he would guess, and the curt press of the jacket around your body.
His breathing almost stuttered in his chest. [Search with keywords: Android, human, colour, colourblind, touch… Search failed.] His gaze wavered but his posture remained sure, unable to fail in his mission [Retrieve the Deviant], unable to allow the humans to see him like this. His [brown] eyes roved across your face one final time, as if to etch it into his memory processors, as if he blinked long enough you might fade out of existence. He knew better. He always knew better.
Alex the Android watched him as he walked back with lack of want to turn his back on your prone figure. The distance wasn't great, covered in short but fluid strides of his legs, some form of auto-pilot was determined to get him to his goal. His mind flicked back, a betrayal to all that he stood for. So what if the person who had given him colour was dead?
[Software instability. ^^^]
"Hello again," Connor greeted and Alex tipped his head. Brown eyes blinked at him, aware and still very much uncertain and jaded. "Alex, isn't it?" Not a question at this point, an assured fact. The Android had very few minutes to reacquaint himself with a new name. Connor would have noticed if any humans had approached him for such a task. "I'm sure we could talk this over." Connor placed his trademark smile back on his face, felt his body adjust to the sensation as easily as a glove - that is, if he was used to gloves. He never had need of them, didn't see the purpose, as fingerprintless as he was. Perhaps it might have rid him of the infernal itch that your clammy skin had given him.
"You still look as confused as before," Alex supplied with a tired sigh, and the red LED on the flat of his temple blinked into yellow almost reluctantly. His eyes tracked Connor this time, for once away from you, from the purpose you had given him.
Connor's smile tightened. "Will you come back to CyberLife with me? I was sent to retrieve you."
Alex's expression did not waver, his eyes gave no cues to violence or resilience. As grave as ever. "Will they be left here?" He demanded, voice low and all the more mechanical with each word. The auburn of the light proved his emotional state. Connor remained firm.
"No. That is one of the few things that I can promise you."
"But I can't be buried with them?"
"It's not usual."
"But you could," and the tone of voice has enough implications for even Connor to pick up on without aid of his mental processors. Connor was a newer model, had less years out in the field than the older Android but even he couldn't miss the tone. Why would Connor have wanted to be buried with a human?
"I do not understand," he replied. Because he didn't, not the full of it. Only knew that the colours meant something else, something unique, something almost Deviant. Not quite an error in coding but an error in the universe. A mistake that wasn't supposed to happen.
"Your expression when you touched them gave you away. I know what it means; I've seen it before," Alex spoke and then there was a smile. His skin pulled in at the folds of his mouth, full and bright and surprisingly kind. Connor was baffled at this strange display of sympathy and lack of untoward motives. "I am sorry that you had to meet this way." Connor could not say that he understood but he felt the tendrils of memories - not his own, other Connors and Androids out there, ones who could see - brush against him even then.
"I am sure you are mistaken," and then he stood, let his hands rest by his sides and felt the press of a slightly wet forefinger brush against his palm as his digits curled in. Your blood. He took a breath, let his body recalculate his weight and adjusted accordingly - he could not afford to feel faint now. "I was not sent here to meet anyone, I was sent by CyberLife to retrieve you. A Deviant."
The Deviant frowned then with his whole face and not just his mouth. Connor watched the pull of muscles at the corner of his eyes, the forlorn flash of apologies and anguish dart across his eyes before it settled into every subtle shift of his body below. He stood, black shirt even darker now that Connor could see the dark tint of brown in his skin, the pale of his pants. He lacked the trademark Android jacket but the cuff of his left arm sleeve made up for it, a shock of neon blue that Connor knew would match his own. "I will go without a fight," he offered, "only if you keep my memories for me."
"They are not yours," Connor spoke quickly with a lack of understanding etched into his voice.
Alex smiled in bemusement and pity. "No, I suppose not." He extended his arm anyways and Connor did not hesitate. He knew his orders by CyberLife, knew the debriefing as surely as he knew how his own parts worked. He knew it just like he knew the brush of wind on his skin, the freckles of brown in the sidewalks. He would not Deviate from his orders.
Connor's hand shimmered, accepted the data transfer: the copy of data that was gifted to him. CyberLife would retrieve these memories as they were but directly from the source - Connor knew well enough what the Android asked of him, wondered if he could complete such a task. The company would not be pleased to learn that he had them but unless there were rebellion plans among the files, the contents would matter little to them.
He knew almost everything about this other Android completely upon touch alone - an MP600, medical services with the digits #257-368-907, government issue and distributed for personal use by licensed doctors. Connor filed all of the information away into a folder. He would analyze it later, determine its use. Hand it over to CyberLife if Amanda asked it of him.
"Let me rest with them," Alex asked, all mechanical whirs and horrific chitters. How long had he gone without recharging?
"I can try," Connor promised - but it was with the full knowledge that his promise very well may lie flat. Broken. He cast a glance towards your body, ignored the warning vibe and wanely smiled in your direction, apologetic for everything. He would like to ingrain your features into his mind forever but knew that his own memories were not for him to keep either. CyberLife would do with them what they would. The both of you were only designed to be used, weren't you?