Tags:
Connor | RK800 & Hank Anderson
Connor | RK800, Hank Anderson, Amanda
Emetophobia, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff and Angst, Conscious Medical Procedure, Non-Consensual Medical Procedure, Non-Consensual Touching, Autistic Connor | RK800, Severe Injury, Throat Trauma, Mouth trauma, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
The 'Blue Screen of Death' is the error that often displays after a very serious system crash.
Heat build-up can damage an Androids hardware or cause it to become unstable and show a BSoD, often becoming irreparably damaged in the process. Newer models will often shut down and refuse to operate if it reaches a potentially unsafe level of heat so it may be recoverable in the future.
There's OC's here but honestly, don't think anything of them. I tried to minimise their input as much as possible but I needed mechanists and there were no canon characters to fill the job. Now onto the story. Mind the new tags, please.
I'm sorry Connor :'(
I highly suggest you read this on AO3 (Archive Of Our Own) instead (It's under the same name). AO3 fully supports indents which all my fics are written with, blank lines, and pieces of art which add to the story, all these make the story much more appealing to read. It's also more easily read on AO3 as it's not the long block of text it is on here.
I'll keep updating on .Net because I know there are some people here that don't touch AO3 but just know that how you read it on this site isn't how it's supposed to read.
Thank you.
[Chapter Two] Kirschner Wire
Kirschner wires are sterilized, sharpened, smooth stainless steel pins. The wires are widely used in orthopaedics and other types of medical surgery, including work in Android fixtures in more recent years.
They come in different sizes and are used to hold bone or metal fragments together or to provide an anchor for skeletal/frame traction. The pins are often driven into the bone or internal frame through the skin/metal using a power or hand drill.
They form part of the Ilizarov apparatus. (Look this story's part of a series called Ilizarov Apparatus on AO3.)
CyberLife walk-ins were dotted everywhere in Detroit. There was apparently no end of malfunctioning or broken units or units that needed 'booster shots' aka extra patched data updates to 'fix' them.
Hank didn't even know Androids had upgrades after their models were released, but it made sense once he found out they did. He knew this because since Connor was forced into being his partner he'd also been pushed into learning the exacts of how an Android worked.
It wasn't really a concern at first. Sometimes Connor would come in forcefully chipper as normal and other times he'd come in sluggish, half his processor's resources working on integrating and adding new coding that'd been imposed on him.
Then he'd grown to hate it, each time Connor came back he just felt slightly less human, if that's even possible. Apparently, all this new coding that made him more efficient also took up a lot of room, room Connor didn't have, so the techies had decided well it doesn't need to know how to recognise sarcasm right?
It doesn't need to know how to share or ask for input.
It doesn't need to fully recognise time since it'll always have a partner with it.
It doesn't need to know how to fully express emotion since it's only there to complete a mission.
It doesn't need to recognise large concepts or theories, just make it add more statistical input.
If anything, that'll make it more efficient.
Connor just felt so emotionally fragile now. The Android was an amazing detective but the better he got at accomplishing cases the worse he got at conversing with others.
Hank already had to step in to take over when Connor simply got overwhelmed by one than one person talking to him at a time.
So much effort was being put into keeping his 'updates' and systems working that even keeping up with a conversation was now becoming a harder task to accomplish.
He just let Hank do all the talking now.
It was just… Awful.
Just plain awful and he'd known he shouldn't care for a fucking Android of all things, but he couldn't really help it when Connor was the only thing he'd talk to about normal non-detective stuff on a daily basis. Now Connor could barely accomplish that and it was just hard to watch his partner wither away.
When he'd ran into the CyberLife walk in all he'd had to do was flash a badge and he was allowed into the back were all sorts of Android specialists were working on repairing the Androids already there.
One had a soldering iron in an Android eye, another picking through internal wiring in a hand, yet another with a whirring drill replacing the missing teeth of an Android.
He didn't want them to touch Connor but hadn't had another choice.
Once they'd been notified of who he was they took Connor from his arms and wheeled him away behind doors. He left just standing there, a few people still working on Androids behind him, taking up the places of the ones that just left.
'Sir? You're the one who brought in that new Android, right?' The man beckoned him to follow and for once Hank did so without complaint. They walked through another set of doors down a narrow corridor.
'Uh, yes, he's – It's called Connor.'
'We need to make sure it's being fixed to the right specifications for your department. It's much more advanced than Androids we normally have to fix. First of all; what happened to it? The entire backing processor is crushed and practically drained of all its cooling fluid, that's serious damage.'
'Specifics are classified but it was hit pretty fucking hard.'
'Yes…'
He was led into a white room with several other people waiting there, most looking either annoyed or tired. A few magazines were strewn across a coffee table in the centre.
What time was it again? It was pretty late when they walked into that alley, it was probably morning at this point.
He pulled out a pad from his pocket, pieces of coding and messages blinking on it. 'In all honesty, at this rate, it'll just be easier just implant what's left of its systems coding into a new body, some of its memories will be corrupted due to the nature of the damage but it'll be better off.'
A pad with a signature opening screen was given to him, the same one he'd had to sign several times before, an agreement for a new body for Connor. Fully paid for by the department. How did they get it here so fast?
It was nudged towards him again. 'You'll need to sign off on that, sir.'
'NO… No. It… Needs its memories fully intact,' because every time he comes back he's even more different than when he gets his 'upgrades', 'It needs them intact for the investigation, you better be able to fix it.'
The employee in front of him didn't seem to notice his hesitation or irritation as he drew back the pad, switching its screens back to the coding from before.
Smiling, he answered. 'I completely understand, you should be happy to hear we've already got a message to the main police station. They said basically the same.'
'Ah, here's the diagnostics.' He let out a low whistle.
'I don't want to keep you here long so you get a brief rundown. A lot of processors are corrupted but a specialist is being sent by the department to fix it specifically. Parts of the 'skull' and processors punctured through the roof and back of its mouth, that's why it was losing so much cooling so quickly, it basically turned into a sieve… Damn. Its neck was practically broken too, but don't worry we already have a plan to fix that.'
Hank felt sick.
'Should I tell you the price to fix it or does your department cover that?'
He didn't answer instead collapsing into a seat and waving the man off, his cheerful attitude made him want to punch something.
He wasn't worrying, they said Connor's going to be fine.
If only Connor hadn't convinced him not to bring that fucking canteen of whiskey.
Fucking prick.
– EḾER̶̡GENCY_R̛̕ES͟͜͠TAR̷̡̀T_͟OF_ALL_SY͘ST̵̡̛ȨM̨̕S –
MODEĹ͟:̶̷̧ Ŕ̸̷K:800 - P͞r̢o̧t̷o̕ty̡p̨e_̵Mark_(̷V͝*5̸)͠
S̷̕͟E̴͞RIAL# : 313_24̧̛8̵_317̨͢͞-55
BI̸̧̛OS 999.9…99͞99̸̨….88.8
REBOOO̵͝͠O
͞O̴͏͡OOO҉͜͏Ǫ̧͞Ơ͘͢Ơ̸̕Ó͢OO̶͞͡OƠ̯̪̖̻̮̠̤͞O̴̢̤͈O̪͓͍͙̠̩̺̗̫͖̪T́͝҉I̵̴NG…
ER͟͜R̴͜͝OR
Memory_Chip_ E̶Ŕ̢͢R̡OŔ̡͜
EŖ̕͜ROŔ͢͝_LOADING_OS
SYSTEM_I̴͜N̡̛͞IT̕͢I̧͏Á̵͝L̷̨ISATION
Primary_Systems… : EŖ͟R̵̴͞Ǫ͞R̀́͞
Seconḑ̶͢a͠r̀͢y_̧͞Systems… : ERR̛͘OR
Tertiary_Syst̨e̵̵̢ḿ̶̢s͟…̸̡ : ͡É͝Ŗ̶RRŔ͢R̶̛͜Ŗ̴RǪ̴͟R̛
Sć͞͠an̷̷͡ní̶n̷ǵ̨̀_Bi̷ǫ̡̧components… : ER̷̷R͜͞O͘͞Ŗ͟
Initialising_Peropheral_Sensors… : E͢͏R̨̀RRƠ̡͞OR
Initialising_AI_͜D͏̡͟a̧͢͡ta_Chips… : É͜͡EŔOR̛R̕
MEMO̴͘R͘͜Ý_UNĮ̴̧IIIT͟͠ _STATUS
E̶͢RROR̢͜͜R̴͟͡
Shallow voices surrounded him, whispering in his systems yet sounding like screams in his audials all the same. No visuals or sensations greeted him, he couldn't move his body but he could feel it, lying flat on his back, an arm on his right side.
'Okay… First attempted reboot since heat induced shutdown at eight-forty-two pm, Saturday the second, reboot is at two am Sunday third. Its systems are online but the main processor isn't.' It was woman's voice, it sounded aged but still young…
Red jagged coding errors lanced into his processor but no pain accompanied the signals.
'Its temperature is holding steady at 6 degrees celsius, optimal conditions. Thirium regulator is at 68%. Thirium internal pressure is 120 over 70.'
The woman quietly hummed over him for a moment before speaking once more, 'Electrical pulses seem to be regular in nature, though, keep a chart on it, for the time being, George, Alex.'
/Why.
Where.
Time_(Query)
W͢͡hà̶̀t́͠/
Systems around him started to whir and beep and alarm and spike and
'What does that mean? Is that bad? That's bad, right?' The voice was nervous, young, wobbly, male.
'It means it won't be onlining for a while yet. There must be something we missed… George, hand me the diagnostics report again and keep your mouth closed, you're my assistant I don't want to hear another peek from you.'
'Um, yes ma'am.'
Metal clicked against fake nails. The hums of electronics surrounding him.
/Query_Hank/
'Uh, ma'am.' the words stumbled, 'Its systems are showing a spike of activity in the data processors.'
The hand left his side,
/Come_back…/
'Hmm, that's interesting. Its activity is only placed in the left processors and AI units, you recording that? Good. It's not cacheing anything unless it has caches in this side too, I mean to hell with it, if it can work with basically half a brain then sure I guess it can do that too. Don't add that.'
'It can't sense us, though, right?'
'If it's active then it's going to be trying to. I don't know if it'll accomplish it, but I mean, the fact it's even fucking online right now is outstanding. Don't add that either.'
…
'Oh, don't give me look, you're a fucking intern what the fuck do you know, huh? Plus, I told you to be quiet.'
…
'Look, if it's in a semi-online state and listening it's going to be barely fucking coherent, honestly, don't worry about it.'
/Talking_about_him?
Him?
Him
Define_(Him)/
'No response to external stimuli.'
Sharp nails were dragged up over his neck, tipping his head back and exposing his throat. A finger ran over his lips.
A machine next to him started to whirr faster and faster and faster
and faster
'Disregard my previous comment. Lower processor functions are active, nothing more of its higher processors appear to be, however. It's still safe to work on.'
Connors' head was moved back into a neutral position, lips still burning with sensation. Heels clicked on the floor away from him and towards shuffling leather ones.
Another young female voice struck his audials. 'What model is this?'
A moment later the voice spoke up again, muffled, turned away from him. 'An RK: 800? … That's that new police prototype. What the hell is it doing here? This thing costs a small fortune!'
Fingers clicked above and to the side of him but not too him. 'Hey, Alex, come help me again will you, stop fussing over its specification sheet, I've already got it jotted down.'
There was quiet grumble, 'What do you need done?' The voice quickly melded into worry, 'Did its ventral lines burst?'
'No, no, just give me a second.'
Something sharp was pushed into his wrist port, skin and plating opened revealing wiring and openings. Thirium began to be automatically drawn into the tube.
The port let out a harsh hiss when it was dislodged and was closed up, trying to rebalance the internal pressure. Only moments later did the tubing let out another shrill long beep. Even blinded, practically deafened, and sensitivity on his plastic skin at its lowest settings he could still feel the tension in the room rise drastically.
'Okay, new thirium coming ASAP don't worry.' She continued.
The heeled lady span around, 'George, go and instruct its owner in the wait bay, please. Tell him it'll be maybe two or three hours before he can come see it outside of the reconstruction bay and another 7-ish hours before he can leave with it. If he wants to see it now tell him its fine and escort him here to behind the glass.'
'Okie-Dokie.'
Doors slid open and shut as the man's footsteps got increasingly muffled.
/Whirring_faster/
'Can you please check its manifold? Make sure the metal is binding correctly? I don't want it crack to open again whilst I'm collecting the extra thirium.'
'Yup, I'll notify you if its systems change drastically.'
Heels clicked away, though even once she'd gone the sharp clacks remained echoed in his audials.
His mouth was forced open, metal clamping and grinding around his lower teeth, making flakes of hard plastic fall away into his mouth. Pressure was forced harder and harder down onto them, the plastic beginning to distort.
Another piece was placed over his tongue keeping it flattened.
/Stop/
Further straight pieces of metal were forced onto his upper jaw, compressing the back of his mouth roof and pushing on the tips of his front teeth, driving them further back and back…
The lower metal jolted down forcing his mouth open wider, jaw sensors sending the first uncomfortable signals. It ached, telling him to stop it, get away but being unable to.
With his jaw locked open fingers wrapped in latex gloves slid down his throat, rubbing against the back as it caught on newly placed metal. Gag reflexes activated, trying to stop further intrusion, stop possible damages.
/Please/
The heaving sensation came back, throat tightening and spasming, more of the leftover cooling liquid welling up and trickling down the side of his mouth again, spilling onto the table under him.
no, sir that's just an automatic response reaction
Head pushed back the two fingers were allowed more room and were forced down further, the person's thumb bracing on his lower molars. Manually rubbing valves and locks open the deeper they went. The closer they got to his voice synthesiser.
A further piece of metal wiring accompanied the fingers, digging in lower and sending minute shocks every second until it nudged the synthesiser. Metal tapping metal loud in his audials.
He desperately tried not to focus on the sensation, but it still remained, screaming at him at every poke and prod, making his throat constrict more and himself audibly gag around the items shoved in.
'Damn, coppering's come loose again. Fucking new models.'
/ /Please can I open my eyes?/ Query –
Query/
no, it's not in any pain please don't worry
Finally, the metal wire was drawn out. The two fingers were pulled back too, now cool and sticky fluid and lubricant still connected from his mouth to them until the person wiped them down on… Something.
The rest was wiped away from his cheek.
The metal clamps still weren't removed.
His LED would have flashed red as the needle was pushed directly up into his throat.
!SHUT̵̴͝ ̸̨D̡́͟O̵W̨͘Ņ ̶͢͡NÒ̕Ẁ͟!
Honestly, that scene with the throat even made me gag whilst writing it so I hope it wasn't too vivid, but it was supposed to pretty disturbing so I hope I did it right! *sweats nervously*
Okay, fuck, you may notice the 2/? In the chapter section, this was supposed to be only two chapters but you know what fuck it, my mind said it needed more time to do what it wanted so here we go. I don't expect it to go over 4 chapters but honestly, I don't even know what my mind is thinking/wants anymore so I'm leaving it as a (?)