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Author's Notes: Here's the Valentine's Day update as I've been promising on Tumblr. I have a queue of chapters finished, so updates are going to come fairly regularly for a while. You can find my dbh side blog under dbhtychou. I post fanart, drabbles and memes, as well as reblog all the awesome fanart I can find. Feel free to drop in and say hi.
Chicago: Become Human
Chapter Two: Stay With Me
Connor stood out in the snow, not far from the house. His stance was tense, gun in his hand, finger twitching on the trigger. He was surrounded by six men, all armed. All poised to take him down. He scanned them all, analyzing their body language and the probabilities of who would attack first. His impressive computer brain mapped out multiple outcomes and a tactical response to each one.
Then, in the tense standoff, the android was the first one to move. Connor knew the second he reacted, the humans would start firing. He had already predicted each trajectory should his adversaries pull the trigger. He ducked in the direction with the lowest possibility of being hit, then he lurched toward the closest man.
The human jerked back, but Connor was faster, grabbing his arm and yanking the human to him. He quickly slid behind with an arm around the man's neck, using him as a shield as he fired on the other five. Four of them dodged out of the way. The fifth charged, forcing the android to change his tactics. He kicked his human shield into the other man and they both toppled over in a heap.
Connor turned to the next enemy in his vicinity and effortlessly threw the man over his shoulder. The human landed on his back, making a loud huff as the air was knocked out of him. More shots were fired at the android. Connor felt one impact, but kept coming. A mere few seconds later, the rest of the men who used to be standing were all face down and moaning in the snow.
"Alright, alright," Garrett announced as he approached. "Exercise is over. Connor, stand down and help these guys up."
Connor turned to do as he was asked, helping members of Garrett's security team back to their feet. He offered sterile apologies for his treatment of them.
"So, how did you all do?" Garrent then asked. "Where did you get hit?"
"Jenkins got brained!" one of the security members called out as he removed his protective eye gear. The man he was pointing to had a blooming red mark on his forehead where he was hit with a rubber bullet.
"Who else got a head shot?" Garrett asked. When three other men raised their hands he said, "Jesus. Four out of six dead in one shot? What am I paying you idiots for?"
"He's an android, Boss," another of the men insisted. "No matter where you hit him he's going to keep coming."
"That's not entirely true," Connor corrected. "Just like a human, if you hit me in the head or my 'heart'—the thiruim pump—I would be down. A well placed shot to my power core would even cause combustion in my torso."
"Any of you hit those places?" Garrett asked his men.
"I was hit three times. All in the right arm," Connor said.
"That's it? All six of these guys unload their guns at you and you were only hit in the arm?"
"After the first hit, I considered the arm 'damaged' for this exercise, so it was only logical that I would make sure to catch any other fire in the same limb as not to spread damage elsewhere on my person."
"Holy shit," Garrett hissed. "I wish I would have recorded this so I could watch it in slow-mo."
"If you like, Sir, I can recreate the exercise for you and send the file to you laptop."
The human paused. "You can do that?"
"Yes. It's a feature added to my program for the police department. I can recreate crime scenes based on evidence to an accuracy of 94.66%."
Garrett suddenly looked a little overwhelmed. "Yeah, send that to me. The rest of you guys, get back to work. I think we need to do more training. Now get your asses out of here."
The security team of six humbled and bruised men limped off to the facility. Garrett stayed behind, watching the android as if he were trying to come to some sort of conclusion. "You take your job very seriously, Connor. I'm impressed by that."
"Of course," the android replied pragmatically. "This is a job that should be taken seriously. And I prefer this job, Sir. I will do my best to keep it."
"Good." Garrett pulled a handgun—a real gun—from his jacket and handed it to Connor. "Take it."
Connor merely looked at it. "The American Androids Act of 2029 states I cannot carry a weapon that could be used to hurt a human."
"Check your systems, you can now. Take it."
The android reached for the gun, expecting the familiar fail-safes to lock into place and warnings to begin flashing in his vision. While working for the police, he had been able to pick up weapons—most androids couldn't even do that—but they were instances of picking up evidence or handing objects to officers. Before, if he had been given a weapon with the intended purpose of using it against a human aggressor, his body would have locked in place. Androids did not have the ability to attack humans, even to defend themselves.
No such program blocks existed as Connor took the gun from Garrett.
"You've now got a license to kill, kiddo, congratulations," Garrett said with morbid humor.
"Sir, I don't want to kill anyone," Connor said, slightly distressed at holding the weapon.
"And I hope you'll never have to. You have been allowed protocols to shoot when and only when it is to save Samantha's life. You point that gun at anyone for any other reason and you will not be able to pull the trigger. Understood?"
"Yes, Sir."
"That'a robot. Now show me how well you aim." Garret pointed to the varied targets set up in the distance.
Connor weighed the weapon in his hand as he accessed the new protocols that had been added to his files. He brought up the stats of the specific model of the weapon and its characteristics, expertly checked the clip for ammo, and then fired. There were five targets and he hit each one with expert precision.
Garrett blinked at the accuracy and then shook his head, mumbling to himself. "No, of course the robot can shoot perfectly. What was I thinking that it needed practice? Fuck me."
"Sir?" Connor asked of his mutterings.
Garrett cleared his throat. "No, it's good. You did good. I don't know why we didn't look into getting one of you earlier. You're going to make all our lives easier. It's going to be better for Samantha, too, even though she's still getting used to it. It's not good for her to be alone in that house all day.
"She seemed to have trouble sleeping last night." And she had wandered the parlor for one hour and twenty-three minutes.
"Oh, right! Yes!" Garrett remembered as he dug into his pockets and produced a few prescription bottles. "These are Sam's medications. She's not good at taking the right amount at the right time, so I've had to be her nursemaid and I'm sick as hell of doing it."
"I can do that, no problem," Connor offered, eager to have any and all responsibility to help prove himself.
"This one is to help her sleep. I should have left these last night, but I forgot. I'm an asshole."
"As long as you know, Sir."
Garrett did a double-take. "It can make jokes. Funny. And this one is for her panic attacks. You keep them on your person and give them to her as needed. Don't ever leave the bottles with her. She doesn't take them appropriately."
Connor looked up from reading the labels of the medication. "She abuses them."
"Yes, exactly. She needs them, but only the dosage on the labels, got it?"
"Yes." Connor paused and then added, "Sir? Is she alright?"
Garrett studied the android for a moment. "You tell me. You have the information."
Connor thought about it, rifling through his files. "She was attacked, six months ago. Unidentified assailants broke onto the property and attempted to abduct her." He added, "It traumatized her. She suffers from post traumatic stress disorder."
"Right. And there ain't no quick cure for that. So just do for her what you can."
"Can you tell me, Sir, who attacked her? Who am I trying to save her from? I don't have any information for this in my files."
Garrett sighed, his breath coming out as a white cloud in the January cold. "We don't know who they were. They got away. And there isn't any one specific person after her. It could be anybody. A lot of people want what Samantha has and would do anything to get it."
"And what is that? My files don't cover that either."
"And they won't, android. Even with your upgrades, you're still a security risk. If outside sources get you, they will have access to what's in your head." He tapped Connor on the forehead. "It's safer if you don't have the information in the first place. All you need to know is you're here to protect Samantha from any threat that comes for her. Any other information will not change that."
"I.. understand."
"Good. Now try not to do anything to irritate her. I'd love not to see either one of you for a few days."
.
The task of keeping watch over Samantha Hall was exponentially more uneventful than being left in a police cruiser. It was a world of domesticity and Connor truly had nothing to do but watch. Periodically, he would put his hand in his pocket, looking for that quarter he used to have. He missed it. When his processor was particularly idle, he would pantomime flicking that coin around on his fingers.
As the days went on, he did it often. Samantha usually spent her mornings reading in the library. Hours of not moving until lunch time. Connor tried not to ask questions, despite his programmed nature of being inquisitive. He learned if he spaced them out, only asked a question every once in a while, and if that question was at least somewhat pertinent, he would usually get an answer.
On his third day at the house, he was reminded of the piano and asked Samantha again if he could hear her play.
"Not today," she simply answered, and went back to her book. He asked her again the following day and the answer was the same. "Not today."
Connor was quiet and then said. "You are welcome to engage me if you wish. You may ask me any questions you like."
Samantha looked up with a thoughtful raise of her brows. "Connor, are you... bored?"
"Androids are incapable of being bored. But it seems logical that we should become better acquainted with each other. I think you will be more comfortable around me if I didn't feel like such a stranger in your house. Talking is how humans get to know each other better."
"This feels just fine. You know humans can also bond by sitting together quietly as well."
Connor actually frowned in consternation. That didn't sound right. There was no exchange of information in silence. How could a relationship strengthen from merely being next to another person? He stood and left the library, deciding to make another round of checking the security of the house and then the parameter of the grounds outside.
An hour and a half later, it began snowing again. He stepped into the house, covered in a light dusting of white. Samantha was in the kitchen, cutting ham for a sandwich when Connor walked in. He brushed the melting snow from his shoulder and then looked up, pausing as the scene before him sent alarms through his processor. As a police android, he was given very complex programming to read human body language and tone of voice. At that moment, Samantha's posture seemed off.
She had paused over the cutting board, the large knife in her hand. Her eyes were transfixed on the blade in an odd way. Connor processed probabilities. Was she planning to use the knife as a weapon? Unlikely. She had not shown any sort of aggression since he had arrived. He was the only one in the house and there was no reason he could think of that she would want to attack him.
Possibility number two: she was going to hurt herself.
"Samantha?"
"Mmhm?" she asked calmly, not moving her gaze from the blade.
"Do you need any assistance?"
The knife went down on the counter. "No, I got it." She plated her sandwich and carried it to the table. Maybe Connor had misread the situation.
.
The first time Samantha asked him a question, Connor was so delighted he almost forgot to answer.
"Connor? What's wrong with your fingers? I notice they're always twitching."
He looked at Samantha's curious face, a smile tugging at his mouth. She was actually talking to him. She kept watching him expectantly and he remembered that required an answer.
"I was just... remembering."
"Remembering?" she wondered.
"I used to..." He looked down at his hands, pantomiming flicking a coin from one hand to the other. "A quarter. I lost it some time ago."
"You used to have a quarter? Was it a special type of quarter?"
"No, I just found it. But I don't have it anymore. So I... remember it."
Samantha watched him for a moment before standing from where she had been reading on the floor by the fire. "Stay here, I'll be back in a minute," she said as she padded out of the room.
It was actually only fifty-three seconds before she returned, holding up a quarter between her thumb and forefinger. Connor's gaze was locked onto the coin. He couldn't believe he was seeing it. He could have asked Samantha for one this entire time?
She set the quarter on her thumb and flicked it at him. Clearly, she not good at it and the coin veered sharply to the side. Like a snake, Connor's arm snatched out and caught it between his first two fingers.
"Woah!" she praised. "That was pretty cool."
Connor only noticed what was now in his possession. "Can I... have this?"
"Yeah, if you want it. It's only a quarter."
He was practically beaming. "Thank you, Samantha! I will try not to lose this one." He was pleasantly rolling his new acquisition along his knuckles when the woman unexpectedly engaged him again.
"Hey, the sun is actually out today. Would you like to go for a walk?"
.
Connor found it quite refreshing to get out of the house. It seemed Samantha did as well. Every now and then she would stop and face the sun with eyes closed. The fluffy white ear muffs she wore were... cute, he decided was the correct word to describe it. His gaze kept being drawn to them and their soft appearance. It was an accessory he had not seen on humans before.
The grounds around the house were large, opening up into a wide yard skirted by hedges. Everything was surrounded by a high fence with security cameras. Samantha led them both around the house, around the adjacent facility, and up the road leading away from the building.
"Wait, where are we going?" Connor protested.
She pointed up the road. "Going for a walk."
"It isn't safe for us to leave the grounds."
"It wouldn't be safe if I didn't have my bodyguard with me," she said pointedly. "That's what you're here for. Garrett's security guys patrol the area in a five-mile radius around the property. It's fine."
Connor checked his files. This information was available to him as well and he had no protocols or orders stating he could not leave the immediate grounds alone or with Samantha. He agreed to follow. The two walked together companionably enough, but Connor was still not sold with the idea of bonding without interacting. He wished Samantha would talk to him. He would be willing to discuss any subject matter with her whatsoever, just as long as she would converse with him.
Samantha led them down the road a ways and then into a well-worn path through a wooded area. At least out here there was something new to look at. Despite it being the dead of winter, there was still some activity in the trees and Connor occupied himself by identifying the different birds he happened to see.
About a mile and a half in, the path suddenly disappeared into a sudden drop with a thick, dark river swirling far below. The view was gorgeous, the air crisp and clean. Connor had practically forgotten about conversation as he took it all in. All he knew was the city. This was a whole new experience. Did Samantha know how beautiful it was out here? Did she understand that not everyone could have such a view as this?
Connor glanced at her and all the warnings in his programming came back when he saw her staring down at the river below.
She's going to jump.
That thought rang loud and clear in his processor. Her body language showed intent, her gaze longing at the dark, gelid water below. Connor inched closer, his arm tense and ready to shoot out and stop her if her posture was any indication of her intentions. For twelve minutes she stared at the river without moving.
Then, she turned and walked away. Connor wondered if there was an error in his systems. Was he getting it all wrong?
.
"Connor?" Samantha asked on the way back. "That light on your temple, what is that? What does it do?"
"My LED? It's an indication of the health of my systems, both my physical body and my software."
"I've seen it flicker yellow sometimes. What does that mean?"
"A flicker of yellow is fine. This usually indicates that one of my systems is momentarily working harder than normal. This can happen when interacting with humans. Human responses are often unpredictable to androids and it may take an extra bit of processing to calculate a proper reaction."
"So you're saying it will flicker yellow if you're surprised?"
"In a way. I don't have emotion so I don't get surprised. But that is a close approximation."
"Does the LED turn any other colors?"
"It will turn red if I am damaged or my systems are being overloaded or stressed."
"I see. It's a very helpful indicator then."
"That's what it's there for."
There was another hint of a smile on Samantha's face. That was only the second he had ever seen from her. More often that not, she had no expression at all. She looked like she was about to say something else, but she was cut off when she tripped on a rock hidden in the snow. Androids were not allowed to initiate physical contact unless it was to protect or assist a human in trouble. This instance counted as one of those times. Connor's arm shot out to grab her by the wrist—just minimum contact to help her gain her balance.
Androids were desensitized in someways and over-sensitized in others. Beneath her coat and long sweater, Connor felt no organic give to her arm. He looked her in the face, into those empty eyes. Was that why they didn't look normal to him? His LED flickered yellow as he yanked up her sleeve and grabbed her bare arm. No organic material.
His LED was probably flashing red now. He always said he didn't feel emotions, but this couldn't be anything else than anger.
"You—you're an android?" he demanded. "All of this is just to protect another android? All of this was a lie?!"
Samantha's face lost all its color in the wake of his outrage. Connor had her arm in a death grip so she ripped off her other glove with her teeth and placed the hand on his. This one was flesh, human. His LED flickered back to yellow as he put his other hand on hers, confirming again that it was organic. She was a human with a prosthetic limb.
"Samantha... I'm sorry. That was... I really jumped to conclusions without having all the facts, without even asking."
"You were really mad," she said in awe, searching his face. "I saw the red light."
"I don't have emotions, I don't get mad," he insisted.
"Well, you got something." Samantha pulled her hands from his and retrieved her gloves. Did she have a look of... slight amusement on her face? "I suppose part of that is my fault." She looked up at him again after the gloves were recovered. "I haven't hardly told you anything about myself, have I? It's easy to jump to conclusions when you don't have any information."
"This is true," he agreed.
Samantha looked away with a thoughtful noise, then walked off. Connor was left to follow behind.
.
After the first week, Garrett returned to the house to receive Connor's first report. They met again out in the snow behind the house. It seemed the most private place on the property and Connor never minded the cold. Garrett didn't seem to either.
He listened with patience as Connor relayed his week. There wasn't much to say. Very little happened. Finding out about Samantha's prosthetic arm didn't seem pertinent to report. Connor was sure Garrett already knew this about her. And since he had not been given this at the beginning, Connor also guessed that Garrett would not divulge any extra information about it.
The only other thing to talk about was the few instances of Samantha's strange behavior where Connor had thought she would do something to herself, but never did. Reporting something that did not happen was a silly thing to do. But... something about it was beginning to make sense.
"Garrett, I would like to ask a question."
"Yeah?" the human said, almost distractedly. He seemed satisfied with the report and was ready to move on to his 'important shit' that he liked to mention.
"The reason I need to supervise Samantha's medications is because she's tried to overdose on them before, hasn't she?"
Garrett turned and looked at him, one brow raised, but the rest of his expression indiscernible.
"I suggest she get professional help," Connor continued. "She needs a therapist, someone to talk to."
The moment he got out the last word, Garrett had him by the collar, nearly holding him up until his toes couldn't touch the ground. Very impressive for a human. But Garrett was much larger than him.
"Listen here, you little shit," the human hissed with danger in his voice. "No fucking android is going to tell me how to do my job. I brought you here to keep her alive. If you can't do that, then you're fucking useless to me and I'm sending you right back where you came from."
"You brought me here to protect her from those who would hurt her, Sir. Not to-"
"You protect her from herself if that is what you have to do, robot. I don't care if you have to breathe for her; if you have to reach in and pump her heart with your own goddamn hands. You keep. Her. Alive. You got me?"
Connor's LED had turned yellow during the threat, flickering red from time to time.
"Yes, Sir... I understand."
"Good. Make sure that you do."
Connor was dropped. He stood in the snow and watched as the human stalked away hands shoved into his pockets as he left.
.
Samantha snapped awake, the blackness of night surrounding her, smothering her. Her heart raced in her chest, making it tight as if she were bound. It was hard to breathe; to move. She struggled to control her muscles to get out of the bed and stumble to the door.
"Connor," she rasped as she stepped weakly into the hall. Every intake of air was a fight. "Connor."
"I'm here," came the calm voice, followed by measured footsteps coming up the hall. He stopped short of her personal space. He was still dressed sharply in his suit, straight and orderly. The band on his arm, the triangle on his chest, glowed gently in the dark. "You seem in distress. Do you give me permission to assist you?"
She managed to nod and Connor put one hand on her back. The other pressed to her sternum. "Your heart rate is extremely elevated. You are having a panic attack. I need you to breathe deep and slow."
"My medicine," she whispered.
"I have it." With the hand still on her back, her guided her down the hall to the kitchen and sat her at the table. Still in the dark, he filled a glass of water before setting it on the table along with two tiny blue pills.
It took both shaky hands for Samantha to bring the glass to her lips. It was another twenty minutes before the medication began to take effect and her heart was finally slowing down. The entire time, Connor stood right next to her, watching. There was nothing else the android could do. He seemed to know this, but did not leave her side.
For a second she had the urge to touch the sleeve of his fine suit, to get just a little more contact in her moment of weakness. What would he do in response to her? She didn't know anything about androids and how they would react. She decided it would be best to do nothing.
As she finally began to feel better, when her steadiness returned, she went back to her room for slippers and a sweater. The parlor found her next where she, as she had multiple times before, walked back and forth in the dark, watching the world out the windows.
Connor was there with her. He stood to the side this time, instead of seating himself at the piano. There he stayed as she wandered. The clock on the wall stated it was only 2AM. So very far until dawn, but she did not want to return to bed. This had been a bad one and she longed for the night to be over.
For an hour she paced. During the second hour, she slowed to a few steps at a time, tired but unwilling to retire to bed. It felt as if she lay down again, her heart would begin its panic once more. So she fought it minute by minute, step by step, too stubborn to surrender.
She was so out of it, she hadn't even realized she had stopped to doze against the wall until Connor's form was in her space. He muttered something low in that husky voice of his. Her response was a non-descript sound. It must have been enough for the android. He bent over and picked her up effortlessly in his arms. Samantha felt like she was floating as he carried her out of the room, his measured steps still the same, unhindered by her weight.
On reflex, she put an arm around his neck and pressed her face into it as well. Neither his posture nor his stride changed when she did this. The skin above his collar didn't feel entirely human, but it was warm enough and smooth to the touch. She would be content just to remain like this for a while longer.
All too soon, Connor was setting her down on the bed and she missed his arms before he even fully removed them from her. How pathetic was she that she wanted comfort from this machine? She was broken, she knew this. Her wants were skewed. Nothing in her worked the way it should have anymore.
Connor pulled the blankets around her and she let him go, watching with heavy lids as he stepped out of the room. She fell into a shivering sleep, but did not wake until dawn.
.
Samantha suggested another walk that morning and Connor's practicality systems concluded it wasn't the best idea. Despite her rough night, she had woken earlier than her usual, completing her morning routine early as well. Her actions conveyed everything was normal, but her face was sallow, gray patches forming under her eyes.
But the sun was out, the day warm and the air was crisp. The sun was good for humans. They needed it for their health. Especially during the gray January month where they were most prone to winter melancholy.
"I will agree, but only if we do not go the same way as last time," Connor said. "That cliff could be dangerous."
Samantha absolutely did not like that answer and walked off in a huff. She did not interact with Connor for the rest of the morning.
Later in the afternoon, however, she came back to him. "Fine. We'll walk somewhere else. I just have to get out of this house. I'm going crazy."
Connor agreed and Samantha went to get her coat and boots.
This time, they stepped right off the opposite side of the road and cut straight into the woods. There was no worn path here, only wild terrain. The extra exertion it took to cross the wilderness put color back in Samantha's cheeks, which Connor approved of. It was good he had agreed to this.
They continued to walk straight out, hitting the first mile mark. An off-road vehicle carrying two armed men intercepted them. They were in Connor's files as members of Garrett's security team. They asked Samantha where she was going and if she needed a ride anywhere. She responded primly that she was out on a walk and no ride was necessary, so they could move along.
The passenger in the vehicle reported the encounter and their location into his radio. He referred to Samantha Hall as "The S.H.", just as she was referred to in Connor's files. Then, the vehicle and the security team drove away to continue their patrol. Samantha watched them go with a bit of a frown on her face and then continued her march through the snow.
It was nearly two miles out when they encountered a small lake blocking their path.
"Woah, it's completely frozen over," Samantha said. "I guess it's really been cold this winter. I wonder if I could walk on it."
Connor scanned the surface of the lake. "Yes, the surface is frozen. For at least ten feet out the ice should hold your weight just fine. I would not recommend going any further than that."
"How good are androids at walking on the ice?" Samantha asked with a challenging raise of her brow.
Connor looked at the lake again. "I don't know. I have never done it before."
With a bit of a smile, the most she had shown yet, Samantha continued to the bank and carefully put her weight on the ice. It held. Both feet settled on the surface. Everything felt solid. She gestured Connor to follow. He stared at the smooth surface, his LED flickering blue, but not changing color. He took a careful step, adjusted his motor relays for optimum traction, and then placed the other foot upon it as well. Ice wasn't so bad.
Samantha was already shuffling off carefully further onto the ice. She was getting too far away from him and Connor took a step forward in concern. His feet promptly flew right out from under him and he landed flat on his back. Samantha glanced behind her and made a snorting sound while Connor tried to process what happened.
"Are you okay?"
"I'm fine," Connor responded. "I can't be damaged so easily."
"Alright, then." Samantha turned to continue to wander.
As Connor pulled himself to his feet and once again recalibrated his balance, he was about to call to her to stay close. But motion on the other side of the lake caught his attention. A group of three deer picked their way daintily through the snow. One paused, ears up, to watch him.
In Samantha's direction, he heard the groan of ice. "Samantha, don't go any further. Come back here."
"Okay," he heard her call.
He couldn't take his eyes off the deer. Animals intrigued him. They were far more difficult to predict than humans and came in all shapes and sizes. The closest he had come to any animal was a police drug-sniffing dog and he was not allowed to get near it. He wondered what it would feel like to touch something with fur. Humans would pet their animals. He wanted to try it, just once.
The deer and he held each other's gaze and it felt... magical. Connor was sure no other android had experienced such a thing. Maybe none ever would again. He was trapped in the moment, wrapped in it, and everything else was momentarily forgotten.
There was a forceful snap of ice, like weight thrust into it to purposefully break it. Connor glanced to the side just in time to see Samantha's body disappear, swallowed cleanly by the black water beneath. In her wake was emptiness and silence.
LED flickering yellow, Connor hurried to the hole in the ice where Samantha had broken through. Nothing could be seen in the dark water below. Samantha was not coming up.
REMOVE JACKET: YES/NO
He shrugged off his suit jacket and then took a casual step, dropping himself into the lake after her.
For fifty-seven seconds, there was nothing. The deer moved on and the lake surface was clean and quiet. Then, a hand broke from the water, pawing at the ice trying to get purchase. Connor's head breached the surface, followed by Samantha as she took a ragged gasp of air.
With all his strength, he heaved her heavy, drenched body onto the ice. She lay there coughing while he hefted himself out.
"Come on, get up!" he urged with a growl. He had to get her warm. Her lips were already blue from hypothermia. If he couldn't raise her body temperature soon, Connor knew there was a very real possibility she could die.
Samantha's body was stiff and shaking. Her limbs didn't seem to work for her. Connor was forced to bodily drag her off the lake where they both tumbled into the snow. On his knees, he scanned the area for any sort of shelter. There. He spied what looked like a small shack several yards in the distance. Pulling them both to their feet, he urged Samantha forward, practically dragging her.
The small construct he found was less than ideal upon discovery. It was barely more than a closet-sized shed, built entirely of metal. Wood would have been preferable. The metal was colder than the air outside. But it was all they had to work with. He pulled them both inside and began immediately removing Samantha's soaked coat.
"You have to take off these wet clothes," he told her, pulling the coat off her shoulders. "They'll only make the cold worse.
"A-all of them?" she asked weakly through chattering teeth.
"Shirt and pants, yes. Quickly."
As she feebly moved to comply, Connor quickly stripped himself. He stepped out of his frozen-solid shoes so he could remove his slacks. The white dress shirt and tie came next. He was left in a pair of dark gray briefs with the Cyberlife logo on them when he turned back to Samantha. She was still struggling with making her shaking fingers move. Her prosthetic hand was doing even worse than her natural one.
Connor wasted no time with yanking the heavy sweater off her, despite her weak protest of suddenly being left in her bra. He tackled her jeans next, nimble fingers unbuttoning and unzipping her fly.
"Connor."
He ignored her breathy inhalation of his name as he peeled the skin-tight material down her legs.
When he reached her boots, he sat, pulling her into his lap so she wasn't sitting on the metal floor. One arm went around her to hold her still as he pulled off her boots and socks, then her pants. Once that task was finished, he grabbed his suit jacket that had been wisely left out of the water and draped it over her.
"Press against me, I'll keep you warm."
.
"Press against me, I'll keep you warm"
That request in that voice gave her a shiver that had nothing to do with the cold. No man had ever undressed her before. No man had told her to press against him. But this wasn't a man, she remind herself. Just a machine programmed to act like one. What was wrong with her to have such a reaction to a machine?
At her side, she slowly began to feel heat coming from his body. She pressed her hand to his chest, the bottoms of her feet on his thigh, trying to soak up whatever warmth she could. Her other arm ached terribly, burned from cold, and a sound of discomfort escaped her throat.
"Are you hurt?" Connor asked.
She shuddered again. Why did he have to keep speaking right in her ear with that calm, concerned voice?
"My arm, the metal is so cold."
Connor reached for her prosthetic hand. She was nearly mesmerized by his exploring fingers as he found where her fake arm ended and the natural body began at the elbow. Where technology merged with flesh was where the pain came from. The android's hands gave off their own heat as he massaged the area.
"How does that feel?"
"It's getting better. The parts just needed to be warmed up."
Connor then set about warming the rest of her. His heated palms slid over her arms and back, sliding down her legs and rubbing her toes. It wasn't a sexual act, but it was intimate. Intoxicating to be touched and warmed in so many places. She snuggled against his bare chest, his body radiating more heat.
As she pressed against him, she marveled at how his body felt to her. Her instincts told her he wasn't exactly human, but... machine didn't sound quite right either. His skin was soft, pliant and comfortable to be in contact with. She wanted to nuzzle right up against his neck and just breath him in, but would that make it weird? Connor was being so neutral and professional about it all. What would he say if she did that? Or would he even respond at all? Samantha couldn't decide if she would rather have some reaction than none. No, she was a silly, stupid girl who did stupid things. She should sit there and behave.
"Are you always this warm?" she found herself asking.
"My body can regulate its temperature in both heat and cold. I have turned up my thermals for maximum heat output."
"An amazing feature," she mumbled. "This isn't going to damage you, is it?"
"Not in this cold. Though remaining on the highest setting for an extended period of time is not recommended."
"How long?"
"An hour at most."
Samantha had no intention of staying in this nasty shed in the middle of the woods for an hour. Though she also loathed to return to her wet clothes and brave the way back home.
"Why did you do it?" Connor suddenly asked.
"It was an accident," she lied. "The ice broke and I fell in."
Connor said nothing, but his hands had stopped moving.
"Please don't tell Garrett. He'll only yell at me, and I have already learned my lesson about being careless on the ice. Please?"
The android was quiet for a moment. "I won't, if you do something for me."
Samantha's heart flip-flopped in her chest. "What?"
"Promise me you'll stop trying to do this to yourself."
The sudden tightness in her chest almost wrest a sob from her throat. "I'm sorry," she managed to choke out.
"Promise me."
She didn't want to promise. It would mean admitting what she had tried to do, what she had been trying to do for a while.
"You have to stay here with me," Connor's voice whispered, "so I can protect you. I will save you from everything I possibly can, as long as you stay with me. Okay? Promise me."
She thought she felt the android shiver beneath her. But that could have been her own tremors. A tear ran cold down her cheek. "Okay. I promise."
"Thank you, Samantha."
She didn't know what else to say, so she merely leaned against him as he held her. They stayed that way for nearly twenty minutes before Connor spoke again.
"The temperature is starting to drop. We need to get back to the house."
Samantha was not looking forward to it, but she knew it had to be done. Steeling herself, she forced her already shivering body into her freezing clothes. They were solid and frozen stiff, and stole the breath out of her as she put them on.
"Jog back, if you can," Connor encouraged. "It will help keep you warm enough."
The jogging was more of a graceless loping with Connor keeping a tight arm around her, pulling her along. Samantha zoned out and just focused on keeping her legs moving forward until, finally, they found the road and dragged themselves to the building.
Samantha, though freezing, bypassed the front part of the facility and went around back to the house. She didn't want any of Garrett's men catching wind of what she did that day. Finally stumbling into the warmth of her home was a relief like no other. She kicked off her stiff boots and told Connor to do the same with his shoes. She then marched like a zombie down the hall, shedding her frozen clothes as she went.
"Where are you going?" Connor called after her.
"I need a hot shower, she called back. "Put all the wet clothes in the dryer please."
She didn't wait for any other correspondence as she stumbled to the bathroom and immediately turned on the shower. And God, it was heavenly to be warm again. Her freezing extremities could only take warm water at first, but she gradually increased the heat until she was swimming in a thick steam that engulfed the whole room.
For an hour, she let the hot water wash away every bit of cold from her bones. But no amount of water could wash away the android's touch. She still felt his hands on her, the trail they made as he tried to spread his warmth the best he could. Samantha thoughtfully used her fingers to follow the same trail along her skin.
This time, she did not allow herself to feel guilt for thinking of the memory fondly. Connor had done it out of care and concern for her. She was allowed to appreciate the sentiment and his actions without it being weird, right? It was okay if he cared about her in whatever way an android could care. And it was okay if she she was growing to care about him, too.
With the entire bathroom swimming in a cloud of steam, she finally turned off the water and wrung the excess out of her hair. As she stepped out of the shower, there was a male figure standing right there before her.
"CONNOR!" She jumped back behind the door, which was, unfortunately, merely frosted glass. The details would be blurred, but her nude form was still pretty much on display. "What are you doing in my bathroom? You can't be in here!"
"I was given full access to every room in the house," was his pragmatic reply.
His eyes weren't looking anywhere but her face. Her nudity meant nothing to him and Samantha was freaking out because a piece of machinery was in her bathroom. She told herself to be cool about it.
"Connor, are you aware this is not a polite time to be in my bathroom? And did you just SMIRK at me?"
The very slight upturn of his mouth disappeared in an instant. "Of course not. I am not trying to be unprofessional. You were in here for a very long time. I came to make sure you were okay."
"And exactly how long were you standing there waiting for me?"
That tiny upturn of the mouth was back as he handed her a towel. Not once did his gaze drop below her face before he turned around and walked out of the bathroom.
.
"Do you mind if I ask about your arm?" Connor said while she was making herself dinner. "How did it happen?"
Samantha glanced from the stove to where he sat at the counter. "You don't know?"
"I was not given that information."
Of course he wasn't. That was why he was so surprised to notice it.
"I'm not sure if Garrett would want me to tell you if it's not information he didn't give you himself. He says there are things you shouldn't know for safety reasons. I'm sorry."
"I understand. Is the arm why you won't play the piano?"
She didn't look at him this time. "Yes. It doesn't... feel the same anymore. I don't like it. I can't make the hand keep up."
"You should practice. I'm sure you'll get better at it. I would still like to hear you play sometime."
"Not tonight, Connor."
"Will there be a night?"
"I... don't know."
Several minutes of silence passed between them before Samantha glanced back at the android once more. "Can I ask you questions?"
"I would prefer you do. I will answer anything you want."
Anything? She didn't know what she should be asking a machine. "Um... can you tell me about your model type? Or is that a weird question?"
"It is a very practical question, Samantha. I am an RK800, a prototype model designed by Cyberlife. Also known as the 'Connor' model, the RK800 is designed to be of help to law enforcement and is equipped with several features such as negotiation skills and on-site analysis of evidence."
"So, are you saying that all the other RK800s out there are also named Connor?"
"My model was intended for only one RK800 to be active at a time. I am a prototype, an experimental project. I was learning how to best do my job in assisting law enforcement. When I was damaged in the line of duty, all my data and memories were loaded into the next model so there was a clear, linear path of development. It is Cyberlife's intention to use this information to release a new model designed perfectly to serve as police androids in a more investigative capacity."
Samantha turned to lean her elbows on the counter facing him. "If I understand this correctly, there is another Connor active right now over at the Detroit Police Department. And he is not just the same model as you, he is you. He has your memories and your personality." If personality was something androids could have.
Connor looked thoughtful. "I suppose that is an accurate statement."
"How do you feel about that?"
"I have no opinion on the matter. It is merely fact."
Samantha turned back to the fish frying on the stove. "Can I ask how you were damaged?"
"I was hit by a car."
"Oh, ouch!"
"Androids do not feel pain."
"Was it scary?"
"Androids do not feel fear."
"When you were shut down, did it feel like you had died?"
"Androids are not alive. Therefore, they cannot die."
"I didn't ask if you died, Connor. I asked if it felt like you had died." When he didn't respond right away she quickly added, "You don't have to answer that. I was getting a little pushy with my questions."
"I don't know what death would feel like," Connor said. "To be taken offline is to... just not exist anymore. It's not a feeling. It's nothing."
Was real death any different Samantha suddenly wondered. Was it anything like the blackness of being swallowed by the dark lake water trapped under the ice? The thought made her shiver, made her afraid.
.
That night, Samantha could not sleep. Even after she took her medication, it did not seem to have any effect. Her brain ran round and round in circles, jetting adrenaline into her veins now and then, keeping her wide awake. Rest would not visit her this night.
With a sigh, she put her slippers and sweater on, as was the routine, and opened the bedroom door as quietly as she could. She peered out up and down the hall for the gentle blue glow of that reflective armband. Connor wasn't there. She wondered where exactly he went during the night. Did he patrol or did he just sit himself in a corner and wait for dawn?
Either way, he wasn't here now and Samantha had no intention of searching for him. The dark engulfed her and she welcomed it as she padded soundlessly through the house toward the room she seemed to only visit at night. In the daytime, the piano was there in the parlor waiting for her. In the daytime, she couldn't bear to look at it.
She stepped inside and began the traditional pacing in front of the tall, narrow windows. The winter was beautiful as always. It welcomed her this way while rejecting her with the cold that day. Today was something she would not forget for the rest of her life, however long that would be. She thought about her promise to Connor and hated it.
Breaking a promise to an android wasn't actually breaking a promise, was it? Didn't you have to promise a living, breathing person for it to be real? She had thought of death many a night lately, but this was the first night she thought of the nothingness of death. A part of her always thought there was more, that the spirit went on. What if it didn't? What if this was all there was? What if everything she was, her very soul, ceased to exist the moment she died? The question made her feel lonely and afraid. And so very, very sad and confused.
"Samantha." Connor appeared from whatever dark part of the property had been.
"I couldn't sleep," she said.
"You need rest," he reasoned as he came closer. "You have not been receiving the amount of hours recommended for adult humans. You should be in bed."
Samantha didn't answer. Connor didn't understand how tired she was and how little it had to do with sleep. Her one remedy she had promised away to him. Now there was no other recourse but to just exist and be tired.
Connor moved into her space when she didn't answer. "If I can do anything for you, please let me know. I am here to help you."
She turned and looked at him, eyes drawn to the triangle on his chest. Her gaze remained stuck there as she recalled that afternoon in the shed. Being pressed against his warm body, his hands over her. As intimate as it felt, it was a sterile, emotionless thing for him to keep her warm in that shed. It did nothing to stave off the ache that had been growing inside her for the longest time. What she wanted right now, she felt she had no right to ask for. She wasn't sure if it would be fair. Did Connor have the capacity to say no to her? If he didn't, then it felt wrong to say anything, even if he was just a machine.
"Samantha," he whispered to her. "I know you want to say something. You can ask anything of me. I don't mind. I will do it."
She trembled. She had no strength left to be strong, and closed her eyes in embarrassment as she spoke. "Could you... put your arms around me?" It came out as a whisper, her cheeks growing hot. "Only if it's okay with you," she quickly added, eyes still closed. "If you're not comfortable with it, you don't have to. I don't mind."
Connor said nothing, did nothing. She opened her eyes, wondering if he was still there. He was, standing before her with a perplexed look on his face. His LED hadn't changed color from its normal blue, but it was flickering as he tried to process the request.
.
Connor ran through his database, trying to find a proper protocol. This was a new phrase for him. Not something he was ever meant to encounter working for the police department. The word 'around' was the thing tripping him up. Definition: located on every side, or to rotate.
RAISE ARMS: YES/NO.
His arms moved awkwardly, hovering in a circular shape like a halo around her, making no contact. This didn't make sense. He was sure he was doing it wrong, understanding incorrectly. Samantha looked at it and there was a look of absolute pain on her face that flickered for a mere fraction of a second. She breathed out a short, haggard sound.
"I'm sorry, that was weird of me to say anything. Please forget—delete—all of that."
She moved away, breaking the odd halo of his arms and fleeing from his presence. As she left, everything suddenly clicked in Connor's processor. He grabbed her hand before she moved out of reach and pulled her back toward him. It was a little more force than he had meant to, propelling her solidly against his chest. His arms went around her, hugging her close as she stood stalk still in his embrace.
He waited with her, waited for her to do something. Then it happened: a deep inhale and then a shuddering breath. The dam broke and the flood came, pulling her under. She sobbed, soundless but heart-wrenching, clutching his jacket in her fists. Connor weathered the storm, stalwart and patient as it raged against him. He held her a little tighter.
Humans needed physical contact. They were social creatures. They needed interaction with each other. They needed touch or they would fall apart. Samantha lived where humans were not meant to: in an empty, quiet house with beautiful windows that locked her out of where the rest of her kind lived. This was Connor's job now as the one who looked after her. It was his job to hold her, to talk to her, to be the surrogate for real human interaction; and he would do his best in hopes that it was good enough.