I Wanted to Live

by Akiko Natsuko

The gun was warm in his hands, the shot echoing in his ears and all he could see was Red…so much red…no, not red…blue. Android's bled blue, so why was the world red? Why is it red…? Why…?

I wanted to live. I wanted to live. I wanted…

Connor straightened abruptly and glanced around, half expecting to find the blue-haired Traci from the Eden club bearing down on him as her desperate, grieving words echoed through his mind, and he was brought up short when he realised that he was at his desk in the police station. I wanted to live. The words had been going around and around in his head for days now, to the point where he had considered asking to have that encounter wiped from his memory. It would be a relief to forget those words, to forget that brief, terrifying moment when they had become his entire world when he had seen the deviant's partner charging at him. To forget the moment when he had allowed himself for the first time to focus on his own survival, not for the mission, not for duty, but for a purely, selfish desire to survive.

I want to live.

His fingers clenched, remembering the weight and feel of the gun in his fingers in that split second when he'd had to decide. When for a moment the world had flashed red, and he'd come close, so close to breaking through the protocols that were the foundation of his world, of his entire being. The only reason he had been spared had been the command to survive, to complete the mission – but it was a weak excuse, and even now he could see flickers of red at the periphery of his vision. It was like something had got caught in his visual processers, but he'd already had them checked twice, and there was nothing there, but the red lingered, and he didn't know what to do.

"…nnor? Damn it, Connor, you in there!" It was only the final word, punctuated by a hand slamming down on the desk, and causing both desks to rock that broke through his thoughts and he lifted his head to find Hank staring at him. For a fleeting second, and he refused to believe it was for any longer, even as his processers whirled, computing it down to the nanosecond – Hank had looked concerned. Then it was masked by the familiar mix of anger, distrust and a dozen other emotions that Connor wasn't equipped to diagnose.

"What the hell is going on with you?" There went all thought of concern, and oddly it was comforting to hear the usual angry demand for answers, and the red seemed to fade for a moment.

"I am fine H…Lieutenant." Lieutenant, not Hank… he didn't know why he had almost called the man by his first name. He hadn't been given the authorisation to do so, and they weren't on good terms, their interactions rarely moving past 'hostile' despite his best efforts, and yet as he glanced back down at his work he felt a pang of something…disappointment maybe, or longing? He didn't like not being able to catalogue his own feelings. He didn't like being haunted by the words of a deviant, and he feared the flickers of red disturbing his vision. "I apologise, I…" I don't know what is going on… The words were there, fighting to get out in a way that he had never experienced before, and almost desperately he turned his attention back to his screen and the files he had been working through before he had become distracted. "Do we have any new information?"

He wasn't sure that he trusted himself to focus on this case at the moment, and that made him falter for a second. The command to complete the mission surrounded by flickers of red and even though he knew that the colour was internal, he squeezed his eyes shut in a futile attempt to hide from it. Focus. Focus. It felt like he was coming undone, that his processers were whirring faster and faster, frantically trying to find answers that he wasn't sure he knew in the first place, and the red was growing, spreading. Blinding him from within. His hands were trembling he realised as he reached up, pressing the palms against his eyes, desperately trying to push it away. Stop! Stop! STOP!

"STOP!" The shout burst out of him, and distantly he registered that the background sounds of the office had disappeared, and he knew that if he opened his eyes and looked he would find that everyone was staring at him. He didn't. Remaining frozen in his seat, hands pressed to his eyes, as the world began to spin, threatening to spiral down into the red. He was about to admit to defeat, to let the crimson swallow him when a warm hand landed on his shoulder. It felt scalding against his skin, as though his temperature moderators had gone just as haywire as the rest of them, and it seemed to sear through the red, chasing it back into the blue. He blinked as the fingers tightened, not enough to hurt, but grounding him, and slowly he lowered his hands and lifted his head, tilting his head to find Hank staring down at him. That not quite concern on the lined face once more, and this time it didn't disappear, although Hank's voice was still gruff.

"Okay, that does it." Connor unintentionally flinched. I wanted to live. I wanted to live. He was about to pull away, fighting the urge to fling up his hands, even though all projections told him there was no danger here when Hank sighed. The hand on his shoulder tightened briefly, before Hank stepped back, hands falling to his sides in the same position Connor had seen him use to try and calm people before and red flickered across his vision again, as the surprisingly bitter thought that he wasn't human flashed through his mind. Before he could focus on that or lose himself in the red once more, Hank continued. "Come on, we're getting out of here." It wasn't a request, but it was nothing like the gruff orders or abrupt demands that he was used to, and not knowing what else to do, Connor nodded, feeling oddly unsteady as he rose to his feet.

Blue flickered in the back of his mind, and it occurred to him that he should ask where they were going and whether it was related to the case. That was his mission after all. Time is running out Connor, the words flashed through his mind, bright and blue and almost overwhelming and he faltered, glancing back at his screen.

"I…" The protest died unspoken, the blue dimming once more as the haunting words surged up, flooding his head. I wanted to live. I wanted to live. Something brushed against his elbow, drawing him away, and he tilted his head to find Hank watching him, waiting for him for once, and he swallowed, suddenly needing to look away. However, this time he didn't pull away from the touch. In fact, he leant into it, because it was real, it was grounding, and it was separate from the red, and the words that even now hummed away beneath the surface.

He hadn't known where Hank was going to take him. He wasn't even sure that he possessed the ability to care at the moment, and there it was again… caring, feeling, more than he had before. More than he had ever been programmed for. It unsettled him. It scared him, and that was a problem in and of itself. It was why he was silent in the car, for once ignoring the prompts that flashed before his eyes, his processers attempting to map out his next actions, urging him to continue trying to get to get know Hank, to build their relationship to improve the investigation. Instead, he closed his eyes again, unable to hide from the red, but instead focusing on his aural processers, trying to lose himself just for a few minutes in the music pounding through the car.

He was blind to the worried eyes that would slide to him a little too often for someone who was supposed to be focusing on the road, or the small furrow that had appeared between Hank's eyes as he remained oblivious. Unaware that his usual neutral expression was anything but right now.

It was only when the car eventually came to a jolting stop, the music cutting out a few seconds later, that Connor came to, blinking as for a moment the entire world and not just his mind was bathed in crimson. And for a moment he was back in the club, a different kind of music pounding in his ears…

The gun felt strange in his hands, his processers moving into overdrive as they tried to account for the new circumstances and for a fleeting second the world slowed as the other Android loomed in his vision. Spare her. Shoot her. Everything had been screaming at him to spare her, to get the answers, to solve the investigation and complete his mission. So why hadn't he? Why had he hesitated, why had he fired…?

"I wanted to live…"

Why?

"…. Connor!" This time the hand on his shoulder wasn't as gentle, and several warnings flashed through his mind. A dozen different outcomes playing out in less than a second, and he ignored all of them, blinking, like someone waking from a dream and looking at Hank. And there it was again, the concern that couldn't possibly be concern, and when he blinked and made a questioning noise in the back of his throat, there was a flash of relief that shouldn't be there.

"Hank…?"

"Connor…" It was only when he heard his name, not snapped or snarled, but murmured in a tone that seemed almost too soft to have come from his companion that it dawned on him that he had just called the man by his first name and he froze, waiting for the recrimination. "Keep the thousand-yard stare until I've had at least one drink, all right?" He didn't understand. He didn't understand what was happening to him, or why Hank was being…considerate? Kind? He didn't know, and he didn't understand, and all he could do was nod mutely, for once knowing that not one of the paths his processers were highlighting was the right one. Or rather…that he didn't want to take any of the options presented to him right now.

He was mute as they exited the car, trailing after Hank as he had at the crime scenes, but this time he wasn't an assistant or a would-be partner. He wasn't sure what he was, a stray perhaps, someone with nowhere to go. No place to belong. Someone who had lost their way, which made no sense, as he had no way to lose. Time is running out Connor. He ignored the warning, the flashing blue in the back of his mind that was trying to get him back on a track that he wasn't sure was his anymore. Ignoring the mission. Instead, he focused on Hank's back, as the man led him up the path to his front door and though everything, Connor felt a strange quirk of something…amusement? That this was the first time he was actually going to enter, invited and through the proper means, just when everything else felt as chaotic and improper as possible.

I wanted to live…

As he watched Hank struggle with the lock, it finally occurred to him just how odd this situation was, and he couldn't help but ask.

"What are we doing here?" Of all the places he might have hypothesised they'd go to, Hank's house would not have been on the list, especially when their relationship had barely been hovering above hostile for the past few days.

"I needed a drink," Hank muttered, but it wasn't the same defeated demand for the oblivion that alcohol could provide that Connor had come to associate with his partner. "And you look like you needed a break." The words confused him. Androids did not need 'breaks' unless they were damaged or in need of recharging, neither of which applied in this situation, and yet beneath the confusion was…relief? Yes, relief. Relief that for a time, and with this human…this person…with Hank, he did not need to be the perfect Android. He did not need to worry about his mission. He did not…

The world flashed blue.

"I…Androids do not require breaks." The words came out, stilted, toneless and for a moment he wanted nothing more than to tear at his synthetic skin. To rip the words, and the duty away. As Hank paused to look at him, he expected to be told to leave, to have the door slammed in his face as he processed the sound of the lock being opened. Instead, he found himself subjected to a worryingly knowing glance, which had flickers of red breaking through the blue, but not as much as the words that followed.

"Androids might not, but Connor does." It wasn't a question, and Connor was the first to look away, the blue receding once more beneath a wave of red. There was a snort from Hank's direction, but it wasn't enough to make him look up, although he did follow when he heard the door open and footsteps moving away from him. Following, because for once he had no idea what else he was supposed to do, and he was caught by surprise, as something warm and heavy slammed into his side and for half a second, he braced himself to fight. Their eyes met for a second, a moment of mutual awareness that this wasn't going to end well, and then the other Android, the one he hadn't expected had launched herself at him, and he was falling back and…

"Sumo, down," Hank's voice cracked out like a whip, and Connor blinked, lowering his hands as he realised, they were raised defensively, watching as Sumo settled back on his haunches and whined at them. "Don't give me that." It was said with a fondness, that Connor had never heard from him before and he found himself looking away as Hank reached down to pat the dog on the head.

I wanted to live.

"Are you coming in or not?" Hank asked a moment later, and Connor blinked and glanced down, realising that he was still stood in the doorway. Feeling…uneasy, out of place both in this house and in his own skin, he took an uncertain step forward and then another, trying not to flinch as red streaked across his vision as Hank stepped past him and closed the door behind him. "Sit where you like." Again, it wasn't a request, but it was nice to have something simple to focus on, and Connor nodded, obediently trailing after him into the living room and glancing around as Hank headed for the kitchen.

The house looked just how it had the last time he had been here and for a moment all he could see red as he recalled the panic he'd felt when he'd seen Hank unconscious on the ground. He hadn't paid it any mind at the time, caught up in the mission, the need to find the Lieutenant and continue the investigation, but for a moment he had been scared for the man. I wanted to live. He turned, feeling unsteady once more as he made his way to the couch, settling on the edge, and absently reaching out to pat Sumo who had come to sit near him. It was like Hank's touch earlier, searing warmth that broke through the haze, grounding him and he managed a smile for the dog as he pressed into the touch before his gaze turned distance once more.

The gun was warm in his hands, the shot echoing in his ears and all he could see was Red…so much red…no, not red…blue. Android's bled blue, so why was the world red?

Why is it red…?

Why…?

Blue danced in front of his eyes, and he blinked, startled to find Hank standing over him and holding out a glass filled with a familiar blue liquid.

"Why…?" There was a wealth of meaning in that single world. Why do you have Thirium? Why am I here? Why are you helping? Why is it red…? The glass tapped against his chin, and automatically he reached up and took it, fingers curling around it, trying not to think about how his fingers had curled around the trigger of the gun in the club.

"Good question," Hank grunted, moving to sit next to him, a bottle cradled between his hands and his gaze on Sumo who seemed to have realised he wasn't going to be the centre of attention, for the time being, stretching out on the floor with a grumbling sigh. "Maybe, I'll even answer it, if you tell me what the hell has been going on in that head of yours today." It wasn't a question, but nor was it a demand Connor realised after a moment. He was being offered a choice. A decision that only he could make. Blue flickered across his mind, order trying to restore itself and he opened his mouth to brush off the question, to retreat into the safety of order, but then he glanced down at the glass in his hand, staring at the vivid blue, tinted purple as red danced over his vision. I don't know, was his next thought, but that wasn't true and he couldn't bring himself to lie, even though Hank was carefully not looking at him, taking a sip of his drink, that was nothing like the desperate, gulping swallows he normally took.

Was he ready to talk about the red flooding his world? The thoughts…the feelings that he wasn't meant to feel but was clouding his mind. The emotions that he couldn't put a name to. The words that haunted him. I wanted to live. I Wanted to Live. I WANTED TO LIVE. He was barely aware of the glass in his hands creaking and then shattering as his grip tightened, blue splashing across his front and across his hand and he froze, eyes wide as he stared at it, watching the Thirium drip between his fingers. I wanted to live. The gunshot was echoing in his mind once more, and the blue on his fingers was the Traci's as she fell in slow motion, her life gone before she hit the ground and… beneath the shock and confusion, there was relief that it was over, and he was alive and he swallowed. Trembling as he lifted his head to find Hank staring at him, unable to miss the concern this time and he focused on that as the world faded to red and the words crept out.

"…I wanted to live."

I want to live.