Author's Note: Thank you so much for reading and for the reviews! Every time I get an email that I have a review, it makes me smile. This is kind of a short chapter, so I'm going to get another one posted as soon as I scan it for typos.


34 Detroit 10.31.2038

10:45 pm

Connor

Clara drives in silence. I offered to drive her, but she insisted she's fine. She refuses to look at me, and I know something has changed between us. It's hard for me to understand because I don't feel human emotion. But I can read hers. Right now she's embarrassed. I can tell by the way her cheeks retain a hint of pink. I still remember the feel of her fingers in my hair, the way she leaned up, eyes darting down to my lips. I'm pretty sure she was about to kiss me. I can't wrap my mind around that. I can't even say how I feel about it. Androids aren't programmed to feel affection or love for humans or for one another. I think back to the android Daniel who used to be close to Emma Phillips. He professed to love his humans, but he was a deviant. I am not a deviant, but when I think of Clara I get a rush of unfamiliar feelings. It's both unsettling and intriguing.

As Clara pulls into her driveway, I feel suddenly nervous. I don't know what to say to her. I have a feeling she'll try to pretend nothing happened and maybe I should, too. Something else inside of me refuses to let it go though. I'm curious.

"Let's get you cleaned up," Clara says, getting out of the car. We enter her house, and it's much the same as last time. There are mugs everywhere and blankets droop onto the floor from the couch. It looks as if she's acquired a few new books since the last time I was here. Clara seats me in the kitchen and wets a washcloth.

"Do you...heal?" she asks.

"Androids can heal like humans. We can also withstand much more as we don't feel pain. Some damage must be repaired at CyberLife."

She starts to rub at the blood on my face. I almost protest that I can do it myself, but there's something soothing about letting her. "Are you badly...damaged?" I can tell she doesn't like that word. She still wants to think of me as a human and not a machine.

"No," I tell her. It could have been much worse. "Just a bloody nose and some cuts."

She purses her lips, and I can tell she's still upset over what happened. "What did they do to you?" I ask softly, more worried about her. In the time I've known her, she's had her life threatened multiple times. I know she would never show how much it affects her, but I wish she could be open with me about what she's feeling.

She shrugs. "Nothing. After I lost consciousness, I woke up and you were gone. He locked me in the basement."

"Which you shot your way out of?"

She winces and reaches into her pocket laying a gun down on the kitchen table. "I didn't know what to do with it," she says.

"I'll take care of it," I tell her. "You did nothing wrong."

She rinses out the washcloth before finishing up. "Not too bad," she says. "It looked worse than it was." She drops the cloth in the sink, washing the blood from her hands. I get up from the table, hesitating.

I know sometimes I can be too direct-humans don't always respond well to that-but I know she'll never tell me if I don't ask. "Tonight...after you pulled me away from the fire..."

She shuts off the water, drying her hands and turning to me. I can see her closing off already. "I was out of line," she says at once. "I should never have... I know you can't...don't." She breaks off, looking away. I can't bear to see her looking so ashamed when she did nothing wrong. "I'm just really glad you're okay is all," she says finally, giving me a tired smile. "I can drop you off at CyberLife if you like."

I can tell that's all I'm going to get out of her tonight. "It's all right," I tell her. "I'll just take a cab. Thank you." I motion to the blue blood covered washcloth. "Let me know what Tony finds out."

"I will. Do you want to meet up tomorrow? I can tell you what he says," she suggests, and I'm relieved to get back to normal.

"Sure." We decide on a time and a place and I call a cab to take me back to CyberLife. The whole way back, I think about what she told me. She had been caught up in the moment, relieved. Humans didn't have feelings for androids, and I had been stupid to think that was what she was feeling.

...

"Connor."

I'm in the Zen Garden. Amanda wants an update, and I find myself feeling nervous. I haven't really learned anything new about deviants, and I was not created to hunt down human criminals. I turn to face her and see the disapproving tilt to her eyes.

"How have your investigations been proceeding?" she asks me in a tone that implies she already knows.

"They have been...admittedly a little off-track," I tell her.

"And why is that?" She knows the answer to this question too, but she's going to make me say it.

"I've been wrapped up in helping Clara. There was a human burning androids and I-"

"Humans are not your concern, Connor," Amanda says, her voice like thunder in the quiet space. I nod feebly, bowing my head at her disappointment. "This human girl is proving to be a distraction to you." I look up, knowing what's coming next. "I don't want you working with her anymore."

"She's been a help in my investigations into deviants," I scramble to defend. "We just got a little off-track."

"Her investigations are not your concern, Connor. CyberLife created you to hunt deviants not humans." She studies the cut on my forehead. "We can't have you getting damaged on missions you were not approved to go on."

I nod. "I understand."

"This Clara. Is she your friend?" Amanda asks.

I hesitate. Clearly Amanda doesn't want to see any sentimental attachments I might have formed. Instead of telling the truth, I say, "I'd consider her more of an associate. We help each other out." It feels wrong to call Clara anything but a friend.

Amanda's lips turn down in a displeased smile, and I know she doesn't believe me. "From now on, you will only investigate cases CyberLife assigns you," she tells me. "Until then, stay away from that girl." She turns and walks away, her final word said. I'll be put into standby mode until I'm called on for another case. I manage to send a short message to Clara's phone.

I can't come tomorrow. I-

I can't even complete my message before I'm forced into standby. It's a harsh reminder that I am just a machine. Why then does a part of me want to be more?