To Feel is to Be Human

by Kian-Rai Delcam

It wasn't enough time. He had a week left. Connor hasn't had enough time. He only had a week left. He still wanted to solve cases, play with Sumo, tend and build up his aquarium. He still wanted to quip with Hank, spar with North, debate with Josh, laugh with Simon, be around Markus. His LED flashes an alarming crimson, illuminating the right side of his face in a deathly glow.

4. Glitching

A/N: Today's prompt is "Glitching." I'll admit, it's not my best work but I swear to do better tomorrow! In my defense, it was my birthday and I was out for most of the day. Writing while carsick is not something I'd recommend. Tomorrow's prompt will be "Virus" so I'm looking forward to that! Let me know if you have any suggestions and thank you everyone for the birthday wishes!

The first incident lasts 15 seconds.

Connor had been coaching Markus through negotiation tactics in light of their recent invitation to Washington D.C. when he freezes mid-sentence. His LED turns a solid crimson with no warning, his fingers tapping against his legs with no rhythm or purpose. His mouth slightly open and gaze blank, the RK800 suddenly becomes unresponsive to the world around him.

He doesn't hear Markus calling his name.

He doesn't feel Markus' hand on his shoulder.

He doesn't notice when Markus tries to interface with him, only to be met with an error message.

He only notices that Markus is suddenly very close to him with a pressure on his shoulder, and the sentence he was continuing trails off, blinking once at the sudden change. "Markus?"

"Connor, are you okay," the deviant leader's face is awash with concern that wasn't there a moment ago.

He's shaking his head, because of course he is, why wouldn't he be? He voices as much, and the concern transforms to disbelief, eyebrows furrowing. A quick scan tells Connor that Markus' stress levels have jumped by 5% at his words, bringing it to a solid 20%. The RK200 was the leader of an entire, new intelligent species, navigating in a world where there was no solid precedent for their situation. His stress levels constantly fluctuated between 20% and 30% as a result. However, this week had been calm, and a sudden jump was near inexplicable. Had he received a message that Connor hadn't? Had a glitch in Markus' systems occurred?

"You were completely unresponsive for 15 seconds, Connor. Your LED was red and I couldn't connect with you."

It's Connor's turn to be filled with disbelief. That wasn't right, all of his systems were nominal and his self-diagnostic last night proved it. Then again, he couldn't recall when Markus had gotten so close. He glances at the hand on his shoulder, which the older android suddenly pulls off, almost self-consciously.

He blinks as he runs another diagnostic and checks his internal clock, reading through the results. Everything came back normal, just as it had last night, but his internal clock confirms Markus' claim. "I...was offline for 15 seconds?"

Markus nods slowly with a tilt to his head and he reaches out a hand questioningly, the skin retracting from his palm. Connor only hesitates for a fraction of a second before reaching his own hand out, accepting the connection request.

{CONNECTION ESTABLISHED: RK200 - Markus}

{RK200: I'm just going to look through your memories and run a diagnostic, is that okay?}

{RK800: That's okay.}

{MEMORY LOGS ACCESSED: 180239 12:45:09pm - PERMISSION GRANTED RK200}

A memory flashes across his vision; a conversation they had just minutes ago replaying in his mind. They're talking about different senators and possible ways to sway them to the deviants' cause when the glitch occurs. Static creeps into Connor's vision at 12:45:14pm before cutting to black completely.

{RK200: Did you notice the static distorting your vision?}

{RK800: I don't remember seeing any. I don't remember any part of the interruption. In my mind, I never stopped talking to you.}

{MEMORY LOGS ACCESSED 180239 12:45:14pm - PERMISSION GRANTED RK200}

{ERROR: MEMORY LOGS NOT FOUND - WOULD YOU LIKE TO TRY AGAIN (y/n)?}

{y - USER RK200}

{ERROR: MEMORY LOGS NOT FOUND}

{NEXT AVAILABLE MEMORY LOG: 180239 12:45:29pm}

{MEMORY LOGS ACCESSED: 180239 12:45:29pm - PERMISSION GRANTED RK200}

Connor watches as he continues his sentence where he left off, the sudden closeness of Markus jarring him and the surprise echoes second hand across their connection, as does Markus' own surprise. He hears himself say Markus' name and the memory abruptly falls away

{RK200: I'm going to run a diagnostic now.}

He sends a faint acknowledgement across the interface, watching as the diagnostic scrolls across his HUD.

{DIAGNOSTIC COMMENCING - PERMISSION GRANTED RK200}

{CHECKING BIOCOMPONENTS: OK}

{CHECKING BIOSENSORS: OK}

{CHECKING OS: OK}

{CHECKING AI ENGINE: OK}

{NO ABNORMALITIES DETECTED}

{ALL SYSTEMS OPERATIONAL}

{RK200: Whatever it was, everything seems fine now. With your permission, I'd like to try one more thing.}

{RK800: What did you want to see?}

{RK200: I wanted to run through your memory logs and see if you have any other missing memory files. I promise I won't look at anything you don't want me to see but I need to know if this has happened before, and if so, if it is a common occurrence.}

Connor squeezes his eyes shut. Time and time again, he has had his memory looked through and analyzed by CyberLife and technicians, and never with his permission. As a machine, he didn't care - no, wait. That was a lie. Every single time cold, gloved hands touched his LED and snaked a cable to his neck, every time Amanda watched his memories before his reports, he felt a spark of something shine through the cold apathy of his obedience. Before, he registered it as a fault in his code, as a software instability that had to be torn down and fixed. Now, he knew the proper name for it; dread.

{RK200: Connor, you know I wouldn't ask if I didn't feel like it was important.}

He could say no. He was allowed that now. But the logical part of his mind reasoned that everything Markus was saying was true. He needed to know if this has happened before and if it would happen again. In his line of work, one such episode could mean the difference between life or death, and not just for him. Lieutenant Anderson could pay the price if he slipped, as could Markus or North or Simon or Josh.

Besides, Markus is his friend. He'd never hurt him and he wouldn't be searching through his memories with a judgmental eye; he'd be searching for missing files and nothing more.

Connor takes an unnecessary breath before answering, grateful for Markus' quiet patience as he waits for the younger RK model's answer.

{RK800: Go ahead.}

{MEMORY LOGS SEARCH - PERMISSION GRANTED RK200}

{SEARCH: MISSING MEMORY FILES FOLLOWING 111138}

{SEARCHING…}

{23 RESULTS FOUND}

If he was human, his heart would have skipped a beat. There had been 23 occasions where he has been completely unresponsive, lost in an 'episode' that he had no idea existed. He pulls his hand away from Markus' warm grasp, schooling his features into neutrality when he notices the man watching him with an analytical eye. No doubt the RK200 was watching him for any signs of stress while looking for an explanation. "I'm okay, Markus."

A hint of a fond smile graces Markus' lips as he crosses his arms, "That's what you said the last time you had a glitch. The next thing I knew, you were being dragged into New Jericho's medical bay by one very upset Lieutenant Anderson."

Connor's tense posture relaxes at Markus' teasing words even as his social integration protocols kick in.

{DEFLECTING JOKE: Meant to relax subject and distract them from an item or topic of concern. Commonly used by doctors, nurses, therapists and other members of mental/physical healthcare}

He dismisses the notification, not bothering to read it fully. "Hank may have overreacted. It was a minor glitch at most."

Markus' answer is deadpan, although the amused glint in his eyes is anything but serious, "We had to replace your thirium pump regulator because your systems decided it was incompatible," he sighs, looking down while rubbing the back of his head before looking back up to meet Connor's eyes, "Let me take you home at the very least. I'll tell Hank what's going on so he can watch you until Simon and Josh come back from Vancouver tonight. Then, they can search through your coding more thoroughly than I can and fix whatever's wrong."

Connor opens his mouth to protest, that he can take care of himself when Markus raises a hand, silencing him before he can speak. "It'll put my mind at ease. Consider it a favor."

That asshole. He resists the urge to roll his eyes at Markus' obvious plea to Connor's conscious and instead acquiesces, falling into easy conversation with the man as Markus leads them out the door toward New Jericho's entrance, cybernetically hailing a taxi as they do so.

Thirty minutes later, they find themselves outside the Lieutenant's door as a gentle snow begins to fall, blanketing the world in a peaceful silence, despite the blaring music of Knights of the Black Death audible from behind the closed door. Markus raises an eyebrow at Connor, to which he shrugs before grabbing the doorknob, "You might want to turn down your audio sensitivity. The Lieutenant is not one for classical music."

Markus chuckles, "Why am I not surprised?"

Connor turns the doorknob to be greeted by the sight of one Hank Anderson cursing as he rearranges the furniture, sweat dripping from his brown. The RK800 crosses his arms as he takes in the changes Hank made to the living room, connecting with the speakers to turn them down to a more reasonable level. This earns another curse from the man as he glances to the entryway. "Fucking hell, Connor. How many times have I told you not to hack my wiretaps?"

Connor frowns at the expression, "I can assure you, Lieutenant, that your bluetooth devices are not wiretaps-"

"Millennial humor, google it. Hey Markus."

"Hello Lieutenant Ander-"

"Hank. Bad enough that Connor calls me 'Lieutenant' all the time," Hank wipes the sweat from his eyes before gesturing to the newly arranged furniture, "What do y'all think?"

Connor releases a sly smile before looking around the living room, accessing his databanks as he does so, "I believe this arrangement will have a rather...negative effect on your mental health. Studies have shown that facing your furniture toward the doorway will help you to feel calmer and more relaxed by providing with a constant vi-"

Hank groans, "Oh what, now you're an interior decorator, is that it?"

"Perhaps if you would stop interrupting us, I'd tell you."

"Asshole," Hank mutters as Markus chuckles again at the banter between the two, drawing the detective's attention, "So what do I owe the pleasure, Mr. President of the Androids?"

Markus ignores the nickname, patting Sumo on the head as he lumbers toward Connor. "I just wanted to let you know that something happened to Connor at New Jericho."

Hank's face immediately grows suspicious, and he glances at at the android in question who is reaching down to pet Sumo, freezing at Markus' words. "The fuck you mean, something happened?"

"He seems fine now, but he just...froze in the middle of our conversation. Became completely unresponsive. It only lasted 15 seconds and then he started again like he never stopped. He didn't even know it happened."

"It sounds like something that used to happen to my friend when she was a kid. 'Absence seizures' or something like that," Hank's gaze is thoughtful until he hears Sumo whining and he returns his attention to Connor, who hasn't moved, except to tap his fingers against his leg.

"I looked through Connor's memory files and found 23 missing files, all lasting anywhere between 10 seconds to a minute," Markus follows Hank's gaze, trailing off as he does so.

"Connor?" Hank's voice is concerned, the gruffness that previously dominated his tone gone. Connor doesn't acknowledge Hank or the whining Saint Bernard nuzzling his hip, LED glowing a harsh red against his temple, "Con, can you hear me?"

At the lack of response from the android, Markus walks forward, the skin from his hand already gone as he tries to connect with the catatonic android. He frowns as he receives an error message preventing him from connecting. "It's like he's not even there…," he murmurs softly, "We should wait it out. These don't seem to last long, and I already notified Simon and Josh. They'll arrive later tonight and will be able to do a more thorough examination than I can."

So they wait as 15 seconds becomes thirty. Thirty seconds turn into a minute and Markus can feel the beginnings of worry crawling its way into his stomach. After a minute and a half, Connor's eyes start blinking rapidly in pace with his spinning LED and Markus attempts to interface again. "I thought you said these don't fucking last long, Markus."

"All the incidents I could find only lasted a few seconds...he should already be out of it. Here, help me move him to the couch, I don't want him accidentally falling over."

{CONNECTION ESTABLISHED: PL600 - Simon}

{PL600: Markus? Is everything okay?}

Markus attempts to lift Connor off the ground, only to be met with stiff, uncooperative limbs. After some manipulating, he and Hank manage to lift the RK800 and lay him down on the couch.

{RK200: It's Connor. He's frozen and I can't connect with him. It's the second time this has happened today.}

{PL600: Are his fingers tapping?}

{RK200: Yes, how did you know?}

{PL600: We've seen this in a few prototypes, they have lines of unfinished code that causes them to freeze whenever they run into it. How long has he been unresponsive?}

{RK800: Five minutes. It doesn't show any signs of stopping.}

{PL600: Let me know if it passes 15 minutes. At that point, you'd have to force a hard reboot to bring him back. Josh is searching for an earlier flight back to Detroit.}

Markus pulls his hand from Connor's shoulder and rests it on his head instead, sliding down to sit in front of the couch. Hank goes to the hallway and returns with a blanket, which he uses to tuck the android in, bringing a soft smile to Markus' face despite the situation.

{PL600: Don't worry, Markus. It's an easy fix. I'll bring the equipment from New Jericho so he can be at home when it happens.}

{RK200: Thank you, Simon.}

{CONNECTION ENDED}

"Simon tells me it should be an easy fix. He and Josh are trying to catch an earlier flight to Detroit," Markus informs the Lieutenant.

Hank grunts in response before tucking the stray fringe of hair behind Connor's ear, "Damn kid is the nicest fucking person. Not fair that he has to go through so much shit."

"I share the same sentiment, Hank," Markus checks his internal clock and sighs as it ticks ever closes toward 15 minutes, "If this goes on for any longer, I'm going to have to force a hard reboot. He would hate that."

"You're gonna have to explain that one to me," Hank's voice is tired as he settles into the recliner, keeping a watchful eye over the android.

"It's like waking a human up from anesthesia, except Connor has a bad reaction to it. He'll process things slower and several programs will be turned off during the reboot. It almost always causes a panic attack in him," Markus pauses as the tapping stops suddenly and Connor's arm reaches out.

He watches as the android frowns in confusion, his LED switching to a distressed yellow before sighing. "It happened again."

It's not a question. Markus feels his heart clench at the frustration evident in Connor's voice and he stands up to give him some space. Connor doesn't rise from his prone position on the couch, although he does look at Hank when he observes the blanket wrapped around him, "I'm sorry, Hank."

Hank takes a deep breath through his nose, "Nothing to apologize for, kid. Ain't your fault. Blame the pricks at CyberLife for not bothering to finish your code."

"My code?" Connor looks to Markus for an explanation even as the deviant leader sends an update to Josh and Simon.

"I talked to Simon. He said it's a problem it prototypes caused by an unfinished code somewhere in your software. He and Josh will be here tonight with the tools to fix it."

Connor pulls an arm from under the blanket to pat against his chest. Sumo needs no further invitation before jumping on top of the RK800, nearly burying him in a mass of fur. Markus supposes if he was human, he would have to worry about Connor suffocating. Instead, he smiles at the glimpse into Connor's life, grateful for the rare peek. "Thank you, Markus," his voice is somewhat muffled by the giant dog, but the appreciation is clear, as is the hint of embarrassment.

"Don't worry about it, Connor. Let's call it a thanks for everything you've done for us."

Hank reaches for the remote, turning on the TV, "Shit happens, son. Try not to worry about it until Simon and Josh get here. You got any suggestions on what to watch?"

Markus smiles as Connor's LED switches to a calm blue as he connects with the television, the show switching from the news to an aquatic documentary. He cybernetically cancels his remaining appointments for the day and settles by Connor's feet, settling in as Hank tosses a thirium pouch at him.

Connor would be alright. He always was.