TRIGGER WARNING: mentions of domestic abuse, sexual harassment, torture, etc.
Chapter Ten
Wren pulled at the restraints around her wrists. Two androids, programmed as operatives, stood on either side of a human supervisor. The human male clasped his hands behind his back and tilted his head as he examined Wren.
"If, in the event that you are captured, you must withstand any torture. CY001, confirm that you understand."
"Understood," Wren croaked. They had not fed her in three days. Her head spun and nausea riddled her insides.
"CY001, your objective is to withhold and deny information. Understood?"
"Affirmative," Wren muttered.
The man smiled. He looked to the two androids. "Sicilian 003 and Sicilian 006, your objectives are to attain CY001's information, by any means necessary. Understood?"
The two androids, Sicilian models, nodded in unison. "Understood."
They stepped forward, 003 withdrawing a baton. Wren's heart jumped to her throat. The pulse in her neck fluttered, twitching her skin. She curled her hands into fists. The other android withdrew a towel. Wren's mouth dried.
"Who do you work for?" demanded 003. Wren clenched her teeth and remained silent. Sicilian 003 waited for three seconds before 006 placed the towel against Wren's head. Sicilian 003 hit Wren with the baton. Pain spiked through Wren's skull and she cried out. The room tilted as the spike ebbed into a throbbing ache. Her vision blurred.
"Who do you work for?" said 003. Wren gripped the arms of her chair, her heart nearly exploding in her chest. She kept her silence.
Sicilian 006 placed the towel on the back of Wren's head. It did nothing to soften the blow when 003 hit her with the baton. Her vision darkened and she slumped in her chair, just barely conscious.
"Excellent," purred her supervisor. She heard his footsteps circle her. "Sicilian 006, scan and analyze her. I want a report on her vitals."
"Understood," said 006. Silence permeated the room as 006 scanned and analyzed her. "Her stress levels have reached 76%. Her heart rate has reached an abnormally high rate, though she is flitting in and out of consciousness."
"I see," hummed Wren's supervisor. "003, scan and analyze her processor. Report activity."
"Understood," said 003. The android grabbed Wren's forearms. Her synthetic skin deactivated as the android probed her processor. She felt his presence within her mind. He probed her memory, searching for hints of weakness during the brief torture.
I am CY001, loyal to Prometheus. They will not break me. They cannot break me. I am their weapon, and I cannot break.
003 seemed satisfied with Wren's thoughts and withdrew from her mind. "She endured the torture without breaking, sir. She is loyal."
The supervisor snorted softly. "We will see. Bring her here."
The two androids removed Wren's restraints from her wrists and ankles. She forced herself to open her eyes, but the room spun as the two androids grabbed her from under her armpits. They dragged her to the other end of the room and dropped her on the floor.
"Restrain her," said the supervisor.
Wren peered through her lashes as 003 lifted Wren's arms over her head. 006 tugged down on the set of chains hanging above their heads. At the end of the chains were a set of cuffs, which 006 used to restrain Wren. She pried her eyes open. The supervisor turned a wheel, which tightened the chains, forcing Wren's arms over her head. The supervisor continued to turn the wheel until Wren stood, though she leaned heavily against her restraints, her knees too weak to hold her upright.
"Sicilian 003 and Sicilian 006, obtain CY001's information. Understood?"
"Understood."
003 grabbed a fistful of Wren's hair and jerked her head back. A whimper escaped her lips. 006 placed the bloodied rag over Wren's face. He left her side and picked something up. His boots clacked against the concrete floor. Wren heard water sloshing in a bucket. 003's grip tightened in Wren's hair.
"Who do you work for?" he demanded in her ear. Wren's heart slammed against her ribs, but she maintained her silence.
I am CY001.
Icy water poured over her face. She gasped at the coldness, and water filled her mouth and nostrils. Her sinuses burned and she choked. She was drowning, but could not drown.
I am loyal.
She couldn't breathe.
My name is CY001.
She was going to die.
I am loyal to Prometheus.
She tried to cough, but only swallowed more water. Her lungs burned and her body seized as she choked.
They want to find my breaking point.
Her knees sagged. Her body was shutting down to preserve her.
They will not find it.
Darkness creeped over her.
I… cannot… break…
Wren woke to a sharp kick in the stomach. She rolled over and vomited up the water. It poured out of her nose, too. She coughed and spluttered, barely registering that she had been lowered to the floor.
"006, scan and analyze her vitals."
Wren listened to the report of her vitals. It didn't take an android to know that she could not handle much more of this.
"003, probe her memory."
The android gripped her forearm and forced his way into her processor. She felt his presence, digging his way into the folds of her mechanical mind to view her experience in static. When he withdrew, she felt violated, even dirty.
003 presented a positive report.
"Restrain her. We will try again."
…
Wren gripped the edges of the sink, her eyes squeezed shut as she tried to force the memory back into the depths of her mind. Her body trembled and her breaths heaved from her lungs. She had endured five days of torture like that. They had been careful not to break any bones, as she was supposed to remain beautiful to emotionally and sexually manipulate targets if need be. They allowed her a week of recovery, in which time Wren reminded herself that her name was not CY001. Her name was Wren.
She opened her eyes and forced herself to face her reflection. Her hair was the longest it had been in a while, reaching just past her shoulders. It hung limp around her face, drying crisply in parts due to the chlorine from the precinct pool. Dark circles ringed her eyes. Her pallor seemed sickeningly pale.
She bowed her head and closed her eyes, rolling from the balls of her feet to her heels and back again. She owed Hank and Connor an explanation, especially Connor. She owed him an apology. Taking a deep breath, she raised her head and opened her eyes once more. Wren stepped out of the bathroom. The house was oddly silent, save for movement in the kitchen. Wren scanned the area and detected thermal traces in Hank's bedroom. It seemed Hank was pacing his bedroom, which left Connor in the kitchen. Wren had no idea why he needed to rummage around in the kitchen, as he did not need to eat. She padded quietly to her box of clothes behind the couch, picked out some loungewear and retreated back into the bathroom. She peeled off her wet clothes and dried off with a towel. Her skin felt cold and clammy, though not due to any fever. At least this time she was not hypothermic. She pulled on her dry clothes and stepped out of the bathroom once more. She nearly jumped out of her skin upon seeing Connor in the hallway. He extended his hand, in which he held a mug. Wren detected the aroma of coffee.
"The caffeine might heighten your anxiety, but warm beverages are often helpful in reducing stress, too."
Wren softened and accepted the mug. "Is this a peace offering?"
"It can be," said Connor, a small smile at his lips. Wren's heart twisted. She wished Connor would treat her coldly. She deserved it after the way she treated him. Yet here he was, making her coffee and offering a smile. He offered her peace when he had done very little wrong.
Wren smiled and took a sip of the coffee. She suppressed a cringe. She despised black coffee, but she forced her cringe into a smile for Connor's sake. They trekked into the living room, where Wren sat at the couch, cradling the warm mug. Connor sat in his armchair.
Wren closed her eyes. "Connor, I'm really sorry for how I treated you. I overreacted, and I'm sorry. You don't deserve that."
She opened her eyes to try and gauge Connor's reaction. He furrowed his brow. "You asked me not to analyze you, and I ignored your request. There's no need for you to apologize."
"You were just trying to help," Wren argued, her stomach twisting. Why wasn't he yelling at her? Arguing with her? He offered her comfort when she did not deserve it. "I shouldn't have gotten so angry with you."
Connor tilted his head and furrowed his brow. "What is it that bothers you about my analyzing you?"
Wren stared into the black liquid in her mug. "After they'd torture me, these two androids would scan and analyze me. One checked my vitals and stress levels and reported to whoever was supervising me. The other would probe my memory to make sure that no matter what, I was loyal." Her lip curled and her brow pinched. "I wasn't safe from them, even in my own mind."
"I'm not in your head, Wren," said Connor gently.
Wren looked up. "I… I know. I know you're just trying to help. It's just… hard to shake the memories and feelings that come with being scanned and analyzed… I remember the price of my failures… Even my successes were met sometimes punished. They wanted me to forget who I was completely, so they probed my memory. I was always terrified that they would find out that I remembered my name was Wren."
Connor's lips parted. "I'm sorry you had to go through that."
"It's not your fault," Wren said, bringing the coffee cup to her lips. She sipped from it so as not to hurt Connor's feelings, but fuck, she hated black coffee.
"I will refrain from analyzing you," Connor promised. "Or at least I will ask your permission before doing so."
"I should be accommodating you," said Wren, forcing down another mouthful of coffee. Maybe if she drank it fast, she wouldn't have to let the taste linger.
Connor's lips twitched. "It seems that you already are by pretending to like the coffee."
Warmth tingled across Wren's cheeks and she froze, the mug hovering in front of her lips. "Uh…"
"I noticed that you keep suppressing a gag," Connor explained. "Is it too strong?"
Wren allowed a smile to stretch across her face. "Strong enough to make me grow chest hair."
Connor snorted softly. A lopsided smile flashed on his features. "Then I suggest you quit drinking it."
Wren chuckled and set the mug down. She tucked her legs underneath her. "It was thoughtful of you. Thank you."
"You're welcome."
Wren's amusement faded. "I'm really sorry for how I acted, Connor. You're free to analyze me whenever you want."
A frown tugged at Connor's mouth. "I don't want to make you uncomfortable."
"Look, I… You're doing it to help, right?" She raised her eyebrows at him. He nodded once. Wren blew out a deep breath. "Then, I trust you."
˄Connor˄
Hank's bedroom door opened, and he padded into the living room. He scowled at Wren. "Are you done freaking out?"
Wren bristled. "Are you done being an ass?"
Hank merely let out a "humph" as he took a seat on the other end of the couch. "That depends."
Wren looked at her hands. "I owe you both an explanation."
"Damn right, you do."
Wren suppressed a glower. She grabbed the coffee mug and curled her fingers around it. The warmth sent an electric current through her android limbs. "Prometheus wanted to prepare me for every possible situation, but they also wanted to test my limits, see where I was lacking and where I excelled. They put me through a lot of scenarios and tests to figure this out. There was one where… one of my trainers grabbed me and threw me into a pool of near-freezing temperatures. One of the other supervisors grabbed me when I was in the water and… H-he held me underwater. My objective was to escape, but… I couldn't. I froze. I couldn't move… I-I freaked out and forgot everything I was supposed to do. I ended up passing out and woke up in the infirmary… They told me that I needed to pass the test, even if I were sick. So, they pulled me out of bed and threw me back into that pool. I failed four more times before I passed the test. By the end of it, I was so sick that they canceled training for me for the next few days."
A heavy silence met her words. Wren glanced toward Connor, whose LED cycled yellow. His brow furrowed and he avoided her gaze. She looked at Hank, who dragged a hand over his face. "Jesus, kid. I didn't know."
"I didn't tell you," Wren huffed. "You see now, why I didn't want to talk about certain things that they did to me?"
"Yeah," said Hank. He folded his arms and frowned at her. "Was your training always like that? They nearly killed you?"
Wren's lips twisted. "It depended on the training."
"What sorts of training did you have?" Hank queried.
Wren straightened and inhaled sharply. She stared straight ahead, unable to meet either of their gazes. "Seduction, withstanding torture, physical combat, perilous outcomes… They were very thorough."
"Withstanding torture? You tortured people?" Hank demanded.
"No," Wren gritted out, "they tortured me. In the event that I was ever captured, they wanted to ensure my loyalty. They waterboarded me for three days straight one time."
"I've heard enough," said Hank. Wren looked at him. Instead of disgust, she saw a glimmer of gentleness in his expression.
^^Hank
…
Wren took a deep breath before approaching Gavin at his desk. He glanced toward her before returning his attention to his terminal. "The fuck do you want, psycho?"
Wren worked her jaw. "I want to apologize for my behavior."
Gavin glanced over his shoulder at her. "For which part, exactly? Going all crazy bitch on me? Pushing me? Embarrassing me?"
Wren gripped her mug so tight that the contents within it jiggled. "First off, you pushed me. Into the pool, remember?"
"I didn't push you. I threw you."
"Whatever," snapped Wren. "Secondly, I think I embarrassed myself more than I embarrassed you."
"You are doing a stellar job at this apology, Officer Morgan. Really outstanding work."
"Look, I, uh, had a bad experience with swimming pools as a kid. Someone threw me in and I nearly drowned," Wren lied smoothly. "When you threw me in, it triggered my anxiety. I overreacted, and I'm sorry."
Gavin was quiet for several seconds. He kept his back to her. "Whatever."
Wren huffed and stalked toward the breakroom. She dumped her coffee and rinsed the mug out. She needed tea to calm her, not caffeine to heighten her irritation. She filled the mug with hot water and took out the box of tea bags that Connor purchased for her. She plopped one into her mug and waited for it to steep.
"Are you alright?" Connor's voice sounded from behind her.
Wren turned to face him. "You saw that?"
"Yes, though I didn't eavesdrop," said Connor, walking toward her.
Wren leaned against the counter. "I don't think he accepts my apology."
Connor pressed his lips together for a moment. "Gavin has always been… difficult."
"That's a nice way of putting it."
A comfortable silence lapsed between them.
"Is something else on your mind?" Connor queried.
Wren glanced at him. "Yeah, I was thinking about how to narrow down the search for who I was."
"How?"
"By expanding it," said Wren. Connor's LED flashed yellow. "Take my name out of the equation entirely."
"That's the only defining filter we have," Connor argued quietly.
"Exactly," said Wren, "and we can't find me. I'm beginning to wonder if maybe… Maybe 'Wren' isn't part of my name at all. Maybe I made it up so that I wouldn't lose myself, but… I really did forget my name."
Connor's brow furrowed as he mulled it over. After a moment, he nodded. "It will increase the number of results we find exponentially. It might make it more difficult to find you."
Wren's shoulders slumped. She turned to her tea and removed the bag. Tossing it into the trash, she scrunched her lips together. She grabbed a spoon from a drawer and retrieved the honey from the upper cabinet. While she poured honey into her tea, she considered the possibility that perhaps she was wrong, and Prometheus had deleted her entire existence. It would be easy, if she were some recluse. If she'd had no friends and family, wiping out her existence from databases would not be a problem. She wouldn't be missed.
"I'm starting to think that we'll never find me," she muttered as she stirred the honey into her tea. Someone entered the breakroom before Connor could respond.
Wren looked around and scowled as she noticed Gavin making himself a cup of coffee. "Oh, please don't stop your boring conversation on my account."
Wren pursed her lips as she met Connor's gaze. His expression remained neutral, though she caught the flicker that passed over his features. "We'll figure it out. I know we can solve this case."
Gavin turned away from the coffee machine and folded his arms. "What case? Shouldn't you be working with Chen and Miller?" He frowned at Wren. She lifted her mug to her lips and sipped her tea, not answering. Gavin narrowed his eyes and wrinkled his nose at Connor. "And shouldn't you be following Anderson around like a puppy?"
Wren lowered her mug and shifted so that she stood a little bit in front of Connor. "Shouldn't you be fucking off or something?"
Gavin smirked. "You should be nicer to me, princess. We're gonna be partners one day. Won't be a plastic prick to save you from any swimming pools then."
Wren bristled. "Don't call him that."
Gavin chuckled. "Look at that, Connor. You've got yourself a guard dog."
"Detective Reed, I suggest that you return to your desk before this gets out of hand." Wren could not see Connor's expression, though she was taken aback the iciness of his tone.
"And I suggest you put your suggestion so far up your ass that you choke on it."
"He can't, he's already choking on your bullshit," Wren snapped.
Gavin grinned and sauntered toward Wren, stopping when they were inches apart. "A pretty mouth like yours shouldn't cuss like that."
"Fuck you."
Gavin smirked. "You'd like that, wouldn't you princess?"
"Enough," said Connor, moving out from behind Wren. "Gavin, you should leave before this escalates to violence. I believe you remember how well it went for you last time you tried to fight me, correct?"
Gavin scowled, but it slowly twisted into a sneer. "I look forward to working with you, princess." He grabbed his coffee and left the breakroom.
Connor turned to face Wren. "I appreciate your defending me, but it isn't necessary, Wren."
Wren sipped her tea before answering. "I know it's not. But, hey, what are friends for?"
Connor froze. He stared at Wren, his LED flickering yellow. Wren frowned, a sinking feeling in her chest. Connor parted his lips. "Oh."
Wren's frown deepened. "Was that out of line?"
"N-no," Connor replied, his indicator still cycling yellow. It returned to blue after a moment, and the slightest twitch of his lips comforted Wren.
She dipped her head. "We should, uh, get to work."
"Right," said Connor. Neither of them moved for a moment.
Wren pushed past him first, the awkwardness thickening the silence between them until it was almost unbearable. She returned to her desk to work on some paperwork and reviewed some old cases. She paused on a case that Miller and Chen solved before Wren had even come to Detroit. A woman had been raped and then burned alive by her ex-boyfriend. Wren's stomach twisted at the thought, but what stuck out to her was that at first, Tina and Chris had not been sure who the woman was. She'd been burned beyond recognition. So the coroner used dental records to find out who the woman was.
Wren leaned back in her chair, her brow puckering. Of course, she had no records that Connor could scan her for. But, she did have hospital records in Detroit, kept secret by an android doctor that Hank, Markus and Connor had convinced to maintain Wren's secret. Her eyebrows lifted and she jumped from her seat to hurry over to Connor and Hank's desks.
"I think I have a way to narrow down the search for me," she hissed, crouching by their desks.
Connor leaned forward. "How?"
"When human victims are too decomposed or damaged to recognize, coroners check their dental records," said Wren.
"Yeah, but we tried scanning you, remember? You don't exist," argued Hank.
"Not technically," said Wren, bouncing. "I have hospital records in Detroit."
"How does that help us?" Hank frowned.
"Because, CY001 doesn't exist, but whoever I was before all of this does. Meaning I used to have medical records. If there's some sort of anomaly in my body, we could cross that with the results we've found so far." Wren looked between Hank and Connor, a grin spreading on her face. They did not quite share her enthusiasm.
"Kid, that's assuming that you do have some sort of abnormality, aside from the obvious," said Hank, leaning forward to balance his elbows on his knees. "What if you're completely healthy, and so was whoever you were?"
Wren's excitement faltered. "Well, it's the best idea that I've got." She looked to Connor, hoping he might offer some more encouraging input.
The corners of his mouth downturned. "Hank's right. There's no guarantee that you have something to identify you."
"It doesn't have to be any sort of rare disease. It could be something as simple as having Factor V," said Wren.
"What's that?" Hank queried.
"It's blood pressure condition," explained Connor shortly. His brow furrowed.
Wren sighed. "Isn't it worth trying to look into?"
Connor and Hank looked at each other before Connor turned his attention back to Wren. He dipped his head. "Statistically, there's always a chance."
…
"Thank you for meeting with us on such short notice," said Wren, taking a seat in Dr. Willis's office. Hank sat beside her while Connor remained standing.
The android doctor dipped his head. "Of course. What can I do for you?"
"We were wondering if you noticed anything… abnormal about me," said Wren.
Dr. Willis raised his eyebrows. "Aside from your mechanical enhancements?"
Wren rubbed the back of her neck. "Yeah, I didn't word that well."
"We're trying to track down who she was, and we need help narrowing down the search," interjected Hank. "Something that could help identify her, medically speaking."
Dr. Willis pursed his lips. "Well, I would have to conduct further lab work to find something in your tissue and organs. But I did use an advanced X-ray on you because of your enhancements. After you were shot, you weren't in critical condition or anything, but I wanted to make sure that we patched you up correctly. It takes more accurate pictures." Dr. Willis opened up his terminal and interfaced with it. He turned the screen, showing Wren's X-ray pictures on the screen. "Even after bones heal from a break, they still show the marks from it, like a scar. These marks are harder to see with a normal X-ray, but see that mark right there? That shows a healing bone."
"I've broken ribs," Wren said, shrugging. She frowned, leaning forward. "But… I don't remember breaking that many ribs." Her eyes traveled over the hairline marks on a few of her ribs.
"You've broken a few bones in your face, too," said Dr. Willis.
"Really?"
"Yes, see that healed fracture on your zygomatic process? It looks as though it received treatment late, judging by the way it healed, almost as if its healing process was interrupted," said Dr. Willis.
"Could she have broken that in a car wreck, though?" Hank queried.
"It's possible," said Dr. Willis, "but there are other fractures that make me question that theory."
"Why?" Wren puckered her brow.
"The fractures all show signs of different stages of healing," explained Dr. Willis. "Some of them are over a decade old. Others are newer."
Wren's mouth dried. "Over a decade? You're sure?"
"Yes," said Dr. Willis, frowning. "Most of the ones on your face and ribs are ten to fifteen years old. They're almost undetectable."
A lump formed in the back of Wren's throat. She swallowed and looked at Hank and Connor. Their expression told Wren that they understood: The fractures occurred before Prometheus and before the car wreck. Wren looked back at Dr. Willis. "What do you think could have caused those fractures?"
Dr. Willis's expression softened. "These breakages are consistent with those of domestic abuse victims."
Ice struck Wren's core. Her face slackened and her vision fazed. She seemed to hear through a tunnel. Domestic abuse? Her? How? She was a trained weapon! She was strong, she'd always been strong. How could she be a victim?
"Thank you for your time, Dr. Willis," said Connor.
The three of them left Dr. Willis's office, Wren still in a daze. She remained that way throughout the car ride. At the police station, Wren followed Hank and Connor mindlessly to their desks. Hank frowned at her.
"Shouldn't you be working at your desk, Wren?"
Wren blinked at him. "Oh. Yeah. My bad."
"I could narrow down the search, if you'd like," Connor offered.
Wren looked at him, feeling lightheaded. "Sure. Yeah, whatever." She turned away from him and crossed the bullpen to her desk, where she sat down and tried to focus on paperwork. But her mind continued to drift. Domestic abuse victim. Victim. She could take care of herself. She'd always been her own hero. Right?
…
Wren gazed out the window of Hank's car. She brought her fingers up to her face and touched her zygomatic process. Her other hand splayed across her stomach, feeling her ribs. Victim. She couldn't really call herself a stranger to being a victim. She was a victim of Prometheus, so to speak. But somehow, this felt different. She felt more violated. She had never trusted Prometheus, even if she thought that they were training her to save the world. Even though she agreed with their cause at one point, she never trusted them. Domestic abuse implied betrayal. Whoever did this to her, she had trusted. Maybe even loved. So why had she let it happen? Why didn't she leave? Had it been a lover? A parent? Or maybe she had just been extremely clumsy?
"Wren, are you alright?" Connor's voice pulled Wren from her thoughts.
She looked around. Connor drove, taking her to Jericho to return Red Azalea to Josh. "Yeah, why wouldn't I be?"
"You've been… distracted ever since we spoke with Dr. Willis," said Connor. "We got what you wanted, a way to possibly identify you."
"Yeah," Wren muttered, lowering her gaze. She fingered the pages of Red Azalea in her lap. "I think I'd rather have some rare disease, like my bones are slowly deteriorating or something."
She noticed Connor look at her out of the corner of her eye. "Why would you want that?"
"I don't," Wren sighed. She leaned her head back. "I guess I just didn't expect to be a past victim of abuse."
"It's quite a common occurrence," said Connor.
"Unfortunately," said Wren.
"Yes, unfortunately."
"And I know… I just didn't expect it to happen to me. I can take care of myself. There have been men who've tried to take advantage of me before. But I dealt with them. I don't see how I could've let myself, er, let someone do that to me. I can take care of myself," Wren said. She repeated herself to reaffirm her own beliefs, not Connor's.
When Connor did not respond for several seconds, Wren stole a glance at him. His LED circled yellow. His eyes flicked to hers, and his LED flashed. "Maybe you haven't always been able to take care of yourself, Wren."
Wren clenched her jaw and turned her attention to the passenger side window. Her stomach writhed. "Maybe," she allowed hoarsely. Anxiety twitched its tail within the confines of her ribcage. It dragged its claws up her throat and curved its back against the hollows of her chest. Her breath stuttered and tears pricked the corners of her eyes, but she held them back. She cleared her throat. "I'm scared to find out who I was before all of this."
"Why?"
"What if I'd been an awful person? What if I did horrible things, more horrible than the things I've done as Prometheus's weapon?" Wren stared ahead, unable to look at Connor.
"I… I don't think that's true."
"Then why is it so hard to find me?" Wren demanded. "Maybe it's because I didn't have friends, or family, and no one bothered to report me missing. Maybe I'm hard to find because no one cared to make a report." The tears threatened to spill over. She had tried to block it out, to think positively, but each time they failed to find her past identity, a piece of her wall crumbled.
"Wren…" Connor trailed off.
Wren sniffled and blinked, hard. "I'm sorry. I know you don't have the answers. I shouldn't be dumping this on you."
Connor parked the car in Jericho's parking lot. He shut off the engine. Wren moved to get out, but Connor gripped her wrist. She looked at him, her brow pinching. Connor's lips parted. "You're not dumping anything on me. We will find you."
Wren's lips twisted. "But… What if we don't like what we find?"
Connor's jaw tightened. He swallowed. "Then it's a good thing you don't remember your old life."
Wren inhaled sharply. His words raked chills down her spine. She nodded and got out of the car, clutching Josh's book so tight that her hands shook. They trekked inside Jericho, scanned through security and boarded the elevator. Wren avoided looking at Connor.
"You haven't asked yourself the other question," said Connor. His quiet voice sounded like a yell, shattering the silence between them.
Wren's brow twitched. "What other question?"
"What if," said Connor, looking at her, "when we find you, we do like what we find?"
Wren turned her face toward him, lifting her chin to level her gaze with his height. "Then it's a good thing I don't remember my old life."
Connor frowned. The elevator stopped and dinged, announcing their arrival. Wren stepped off the elevator first, not wanting to answer anymore of his questions. Even if she did like what they found, it wouldn't matter. She couldn't go back to that life, anyway.
They reached Josh's office, where Wren brightened to see a friendly face, one that didn't question her or knew of her nightmares. Or tackled her in front lawns. Wren's lips twitched.
"Did you enjoy it?" asked Josh, his eyes dancing as Wren handed over Red Azalea.
"Loved it," said Wren. She crossed her arms. "I can see why a deviant would enjoy such a read."
"It is rather inspiring," agreed Josh. He crossed over to his bookshelf and perused the books.
"Connor read it, too," said Wren.
Josh glanced over his shoulder at Connor. "You did?"
"Yes," said Connor. "I have read all the books Wren's borrowed from you."
"Oh," said Josh, straightening. His eyes flicked to Wren before settling back on Connor. "If I'd known you liked to read, I would've leant you books sooner."
Connor's brow furrowed. "I've only just discovered my appreciation for reading."
Josh nodded. "Deviancy involves a lot of new discoveries."
"Yes," agreed Connor quietly.
Josh turned back to the shelf, found the title he was looking for, and pulled it off the shelf. He handed the thick tome to Wren. She looked down at it. Paradise Lost. She met Josh's gaze. The android grinned. "Since you enjoyed mythology so much, I thought you'd enjoy that one."
"Thank you," Wren replied. "But I still have to finish Waiting and The Innocent."
"Just bring those to me when you're done," said Josh, waving a hand. "I trust you with my books."
Wren beamed. "At least someone around here trusts me."
Josh tilted his head, his brow puckering as a dazed smile curled his lips. "Are Hank and Connor still giving you a hard time?"
Wren smiled and shook her head. "Bad joke, sorry. Sorry I can't stay to chat longer. Hank ordered pizza."
"Shouldn't keep him waiting, then," said Josh. "No eating near my books, please."
"Never," said Wren as she backed out of the office, grinning. She turned on her heel and fell in step with Connor, heading back toward the elevator. They stepped onto it, and the doors began to slide shut.
"Hold the elevator!" called a person running toward it.
Connor's hand jutted out and caught the elevator doors. They bounced back open and North stepped onto the elevator. She hit her number and turned, and widened her eyes when she saw Wren. North's lips pursed as she stood on the other side of Connor, staring straight ahead. Wren glanced at Connor, whose mouth tightened. The atmosphere thickened, until the elevator felt particularly stuffy. Wren wondered if androids felt warm in uncomfortably awkward situations, too. She noted to ask Connor later.
The elevator stopped at North's floor. She stepped off, but turned on her heel to face them, sticking her foot in front of the elevator doors to stall it. For a moment, Wren wondered if North was going to spit in her face. "Hey, Wren. I was gonna go shopping this weekend. You should… come. With… me."
Wren raised a brow. "Are you sure? That seemed painful for you to say."
"Don't be an ass, just say yes or no."
"Uh, sure. I get paid Friday, anyway."
"Great," said North, smiling without showing her teeth, "meet me here, Saturday at ten." She wheeled and let the elevator doors slide shut. Connor and Wren's descent to the lobby resumed.
Wren rolled her shoulders. "That was… weird."
"Very," Connor agreed.
…
Wren walked with North through the Fairlane Town Center mall, neither one mentioning any stores they'd like to enter. Wren shoved her hands into her pockets and let out a soft sigh. It seemed this was going to be an awkward afternoon.
Wren sucked her teeth for a moment. "So, did Markus put you up to this?"
"He… told me to play nice."
"Ah."
Silence festered between them. Their pace slowed a bit, and North turned to look at Wren. "Look, I'm not used to people apologizing to me."
"I can imagine," said Wren. "I didn't exactly make it easy for you."
"No," agreed North, "but worse has happened."
Wren tilted her head at North. "Like what?"
North scowled. "None of your business." She nearly spat the words, so Wren raised her hands in surrender.
"Okay, just thought it'd be good to get to know each other," she said.
North snorted. "I said I'd play nice, but there's no need to pretend to be friends."
"I didn't mean pretend," said Wren quietly. "You know, we could actually become friends."
North stopped and looked at Wren. "Look, Connor and Hank are my friends. And honestly, you kind of threaten them. Josh trusts you because he knows you. Markus… Markus has always been more trusting of humans. But I'm not."
Wren's lips twisted. "A few humans were awful to you, so that makes every human bad, huh?"
"Uh, do you not remember putting a gun to my head? Shooting Connor?" North hissed.
"Hank shot me, too," Wren pointed out. "And I said I was sorry. I was fighting my programming, remember?"
"It's different," snapped North. "You're not an android."
"Gee, really? I hadn't noticed."
"Going deviant is much harder for an android than it would be for you," North spat, crossing her arms.
Wren glowered. "Androids don't feel pain. And technically, I'm not human anymore. I'm a cyborg, and I feel pain. Breaking my programming hurt. But it's not a competition, anyway. The point is that I'm sorry for what I did. I never hurt you. Connor forgave me for shooting him and I've forgiven Hank. And wasn't Connor a deviant hunter? Didn't he point a gun at you before? Or Markus?"
North's lip twitched with a snarl. "Yeah, and I didn't exactly forgive him so easily. He managed to break his programming and failed to catch a few deviants, which allowed them to get to safety. He'd been fighting his programming all along. But I didn't fully trust him for a while, either."
Wren folded her arms. "Maybe I've been fighting my programming all along, too. You wouldn't know, because you've never bothered to ask. You just assume things about me. Before I even have a chance to defend myself, you've already made up your mind about me."
North's scowl softened a bit. She opened her mouth to reply, probably a sharp retort, but a man catcalled at her, silencing her. She looked over at the man, who trekked over, grinning.
"Hey, a WR400," said the man, licking his teeth. "A Traci."
Wren's gaze slid to North, who seemed frozen. It immediately clicked for Wren. North's aversion to humans, her stiffness about sharing her past, her confusion about apologies, her trust issues –it all stemmed from spending her life as a Traci, essentially a sex slave. Wren tensed as she faced the man, and a weird desire to shield North from the man's lustful gaze overcome her.
"Sir, we were having a conversation before you rudely interrupted," said Wren coolly.
The man glanced over her, his eyes glinting. "C'mon. I just want a few minutes. That's her function, ain't it?"
"No, it ain't," Wren snapped.
"C'mon, Traci," sneered the man, "I'll even pay ya. A dollar per minute. All of you Traci models have the best dick-sucking lips."
North seemed to snap out of her daze. "Fuck you. I'm not a Traci."
"The hell you aren't," snapped the man. "I know a Traci when I see one."
"Oh boy," laughed Wren, folding her arms. "That is sad."
The man's eyes flicked to her. "It's not sad. I-I know my androids."
"Mhm," said Wren. "I highly doubt that."
"Look, this doesn't concern you, Red," said the man, shifting.
"Yeah, actually, it does. Because you're harassing my friend here. And I don't appreciate it."
"I saw the two of you arguing!"
"Like I said, we were having a conversation before you rudely interrupted. Now, I'm sorry that your wife doesn't want to fuck you because you have weird fantasies that you used to take out on androids, but in case you've been walking around with your damn eyes shut, androids are free now. Bye." Wren stepped past the man, nudging North with her shoulder.
"Why don't you go and fuck yourself?" spat the man.
Wren turned on her heel. "That would be more satisfying than this conversation."
North snorted. They left the man, the silence between them crackling.
"I could've handled that," North said after a moment.
"I know," said Wren, "but I wanted to put him in his place."
North hummed in response. She led the way into a store. The two of them shopped around separately. Anyone else would not have known they were shopping together. Wren huffed and wandered over to where North sifted through dresses.
"Sorry if I overstepped by talking to that guy," Wren said.
North glanced at her. "It's fine. I didn't expect to be… recognized. I guess you know my past now, huh?"
"Not the details," Wren retorted. "Everyone's story is different."
"Yeah," said North, looking distracted.
Wren glanced at the dresses the android had picked out. "Got a hot date?"
North laughed sharply. "I wish."
Wren tilted her head. "I thought you and Markus…?"
North frowned. "It's complicated."
Wren raised her eyebrows. "How so?"
North shrugged. "None of your business."
Wren scowled. "You're making this extremely difficult. It doesn't have to be, you know."
North pursed her lips and faced Wren. "If it's so easy, fine. You share."
"Share what?"
"Do you have any hot dates?" North sneered.
"No," Wren replied, lifting a brow. "I don't think Hank would approve. I've got a curfew and all. He trusts you, which is why he didn't send Connor to babysit me."
"What about Josh?" North queried, sliding dresses along the rack.
"Josh? I don't know. I haven't thought about it. We talk about literature most of the time."
"And Connor?" North's eyes slid to Wren, who hesitated. North widened her eyes. "Well?"
Wren folded her arms and rolled her eyes. "I haven't thought about it."
"Liar."
"He's attractive," Wren admitted, "but again, he's my babysitter. I mean, we're sort of friends, but it's a weird dynamic." She smirked and looked at North. "Your turn."
North glowered. "Markus and I… during our fight for freedom, there was something there. But… There was something between Simon and him, too." She lowered her gaze. "But Simon died. I felt like second choice for Markus. If Simon were still alive, I doubt Markus would be with me. We're not even really together, anyway. We're too busy." She placed the dress that she had picked out back onto the rack.
Wren's lips downturned. "Have you told Markus that you feel this way?"
"No."
"Well, maybe you should."
"He's got a lot on his mind."
"You don't deserve to be second choice, and you don't deserve to have your feelings toyed with like this." Wren picked out the dress and held it out for North to take. "And I bet this dress looks amazing on you."
North stared at it for a few seconds. Then, her lips twitched and she accepted the dress. Wren returned the smile. They headed for the dressing rooms, where North slipped inside one stall and Wren chose the one next to her. Wren took off her shirt and tried on one of the flannels she'd picked out.
"So, uh, who was Simon?"
"Oh," North said, "he was one of the other leaders of Jericho."
"How'd he die?"
"You kept up with the liberation, right?"
"Yeah."
"Did you see the Stratford Tower message?"
"On the news, yeah," said Wren. She widened her eyes. "Simon died there? But no humans were killed…"
"Yeah, but they shot at us," said North shortly. "We had to leave Simon behind. He never came back."
"You don't know what happened to him?"
"Not really," said North. "We asked Connor, but… He seemed pretty vague about it. He said there was a body, so…"
Wren frowned. She made a mental note to ask Connor about it. Wren stepped out of her dressing room and knocked on North's door. The android opened it. Wren spread out her arms. "What do you think?"
"You look like a lumberjack," North replied, lifting a brow.
Wren's arms dropped to her sides. "Good. That's the look I was going for, anyway." She widened her eyes at North's black dress. "Holy shit, you look great. You need that dress."
North's lips twitched. "You think so?"
"Yeah," said Wren, grinning.
North failed to hide her smile. Wren's heart warmed. North frowned down at Wren. "You need a dress. Try on the rest of your flannels. I'll grab you one."
She walked out, still in her black dress. Wren watched her go, eyes wide. She slipped inside her stall. She had no need to try on the rest of the flannels, as they were all the same size. The first one had fit just fine. She sifted through the colors, removing the "lumberjack" one from the collection and setting it in her discard pile.
"Here," said North on the other side of the door, tossing a dress over it, "try this one on."
Wren tugged it down and looked at it. It looked extremely small, but the fabric felt stretchy. She undressed and forced herself into the dress. She looked at herself in the mirror. It was extremely fitted and off the shoulder.
"Well?" demanded North.
Wren blew out a breath that puffed out her cheeks and stepped out of the dressing room. "It's… tight."
"It's supposed to be," said North. She grinned. "Uh, yeah. You need that."
Wren scowled. "What would I wear this to?"
"A night out with friends," said North. "Looks like you and I will need an event to wear our new dresses to."
Wren's eyes snapped to North's. "You mean… You actually want to hang out with me? Again? Of your own accord?"
North smirked. "Don't be an ass."
Wren's grin widened. "I am shook, and honored that the great North wants to spend time in my humble presence –"
"Shut up, asshole," North laughed. "Come on, let's pay."
Wren grinned for the first time in… Her smile faltered. She hadn't truly smiled in what felt like years. She changed back into her normal clothes and met North at the counter. They paid and went to the get Wren a strapless bra and shoes for her new dress.
When they finished, they called a taxi to take them back to Jericho and clambered into the backseat. Wren looked at North for a moment. "So, what's your job at Jericho?"
"Oh," North raised her eyebrows, "I help androids find help for their emotions. You know, send them to therapists who are willing to help deviants and whatnot."
"That's a good fit for you," Wren replied.
North inhaled deeply. "Look… I feel like I have to say this. I know you're trying to atone. And… I think you're being sincere. But if you hurt Connor or Hank, I will personally make your life hell."
Wren lifted her eyebrows at the sudden change in tone. "If I hurt them, you have my permission to make my life hell."
North narrowed her eyes, but her lips tweaked upward. "I think we're pretty similar, after spending a day with you."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah."
Wren smiled. "I had fun, too."
"I didn't say I had fun."
"Didn't have to."
North scoffed, but did not try to combat Wren's comment. They arrived at Jericho, where Connor picked up Wren in Hank's car. He glanced at the shopping bags briefly before putting the car into gear.
"Well, she didn't kill you," he commented. "And you actually shopped. I assume it went well, then?"
"Yeah," said Wren, smiling. Her smile faltered. "Connor, can I ask you something?"
"Of course."
"What happened to Simon?"
Connor glanced at her, his brow furrowed. His LED flashed yellow. He looked toward the road. Wren watched as his jaw tightened. "He died."
"How?" Wren pressed.
˅Connor
He worked his jaw. "I found him hiding on the roof of Stratford Tower. I connected to his memory to try and find the original Jericho, and he shot himself."
Wren's chest felt cold. Her lips parted. "You felt him die, didn't you?"
˅Connor
"Yes."
Wren lowered her gaze. "You never told the others, did you?"
"No."
"Why not?"
Connor let out a breath. "I couldn't, all right? They accepted me, and trusted me, and I couldn't tell them that I got their friend killed."
"Connor… I'm sorry."
"For what?"
Wren pressed her lips together. "I keep asking you to relive things with my questions. You know you can ask me anything, right?"
"I don't want to cause you any distress," said Connor.
"I don't want to do the same to you," Wren replied, looking at him.
His lips twitched. "Yet you keep asking me difficult questions."
Wren sighed and settled into the car seat. "I know. I just want to know you better." When Connor failed to answer right away, Wren looked at him. His indicator flickered yellow. His brow puckered. Wren dragged her teeth across her lip. "Because, that's how you become friends. Unless you don't want that."
"I think…" Connor trailed off, his indicator flashing. "I think friendship would be more pleasant than…"
"Whatever this is," Wren gestured between them.
Connor nodded. "Yes."
They reached Hank's house at last and got out of the car. Connor paused before the door. "You could tell me about one of your missions."
Wren's face paled, but she nodded. If she wanted to befriend Connor, she had to open up to him. "Yeah. I'll tell you about one later tonight, okay?"
Connor dipped his head. "Okay."
˄Connor
They entered the house to find Hank cooking. Wren raised her eyebrows and looked at Connor, who seemed surprised, but pleased. Hank turned as Wren entered the kitchen.
"Kid, we need to talk," he said. Wren raised her eyebrows and folded her arms. "I think it's time you got a phone."
Wren laughed. "That's what you want to talk about?"
"It'll be easier for you to get in touch with Connor or me," said Hank.
"And to track," Wren countered.
"Calm down for a sec," said Hank, lifting a hand, "don't get so defensive. Jesus, you're paranoid."
"I didn't say anything else!"
"I could see the look in your eyes," said Hank, narrowing his own eyes.
"The look?"
"Yeah, the 'they're watching my every move and I can't trust anybody' look."
"I don't have a look."
"Yes, you do."
"No, I don't."
"Yeah, ya do."
"No, I don't."
Connor cleared his throat, his eyebrows raised. Wren smirked at him before looking back at Hank, who clucked his tongue. "I'm thinking about giving you a bit more freedom, which is why you need a phone. It also looks suspicious that you don't have one."
Wren widened her eyes. "You're giving me more freedom?"
"Well, you didn't try to skip out on North today, and you haven't ever tried to escape," said Hank, shrugging. He turned back to focus on stirring whatever he was cooking. Wren glanced at Connor, whose features remained passive. Warmth tingled across Wren's face, but she hid it.
"Right," she said. She noticed Connor look at her out of the corner of her eye.
"So, we'll get ya a phone tomorrow. And on Monday," Hank turned back around, "we need to narrow down the search with the information Dr. Willis gave us."
A lump formed in Wren's throat. She cleared it with a cough. "Right."
Hank's expression softened. He crossed the room and placed a hand on Wren's shoulder. "You need the closure, Wren."
Wren gazed into Hank's eyes, feeling a bit like a lost child. Her brow furrowed and her lips parted. She looked toward Connor, who wore a gentle expression as well. Wren swallowed and dipped her head. "Okay."
...…
Thank you all so much for the support! I love y'all's comments so much, they make my day!
Updates are going to slow, as I'm starting my first semester as a graduate student on Monday. I'm not abandoning this story! I love writing this. I just need to work out a good writing schedule, and until then, updates will slow a bit.
Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this chapter!