Was it really too much to ask that he felt better when he came too?

Connor probably should have been grateful that he woke up at all, with his memories intact as far as he could tell, but considering everything that was happening he felt he was entitled to be grumpy.

The taser, while in theory hadn't damaged his system, left him feeling tingly and weak. It was as though thousands of insects were crawling along his skin and through his thirium lines. His head felt like it was stuffed with Hank's old socks and there was a persistent ringing coming through his audio processor.

"I bet you think you're clever," a voice called to him through the white noise.

Connor blinked enough of the static from his vision to see Eric glaring at him from beyond a barred door. As his processor slowly rebooted, he realized he had been tossed back into his cell. "What?" He asked fuzzily.

Eric slapped the grating on the door, the sound of the metal echoed painfully against Connor's processor. "You just had to brake the fuckin' machine again, didn't you!" He shouted. It wasn't a question and Connor had no intention of answering even if it had been. "What the hell were you even trying to accomplish, huh? Nate is going to have it up and running again any minute now. You just delayed the inevitable."

He rolled over from where he was laying, vision failing momentarily as he changed position. "What did you do to me?" He coughed out.

"Oh? Don't like that, do you?" Eric laughed. He pulled a short metal rod from his pocket, waving it around like it was a toy. "Zlatco would use this on us if we ever acted up. Modified taser. Not fun is it?"

If Connor was capable of throwing up, he would have. As it was, it felt like there was thirium pooling in his nonexistent stomach threatening to eject. "No," he admitted quietly.

"Well then," he tapped the rod against the door in a threatening manner. "Be a good little boy and I won't need to use it again."

He shuddered, but couldn't tell if it was from fear or a residual effect of being electrocuted. The tears in his eyes didn't help clear it up. He coughed again, curling in on himself. The spot on his back where the rod had struck him felt burned.

"I… I'll be good," Connor choked through his tears.

He didn't like the way Eric laughed, all maliciousness and condescending triumph. "Glad you finally learned your lesson," he taunted.

Connor felt smaller than he ever had before.

Small, weak, useless. He could feel the last traces of hope bleeding from him even as he continued to twitch. He just hoped that the uncontrolled movements didn't count as misbehaving.

There was the sound of footsteps, not that Connor cared at this point, then Nate joined his companion in front of the barred door. He could barely see through his watery eyes. "I think I've got it," he announced, though he didn't sound as confident as Eric did with the whole endeavor.

"About time," he complained before returning his attention to Connor. "See, told you it wouldn't be long."

Connor finally managed to sit up, though he regretted the decision as soon as his eyes went staticky again. Tears streamed down his cheeks no matter how hard he tried to hold them back.

The door sounded like it was screaming as the rusty hinges swung open. Hands, far too clean and smooth for what they were about to do, hoisted him dizzily to his feet.

"He's crying again," Nate commented, much to his annoyance. So much for presenting a calm, mature indifference to his situation. The last thing he wanted to do was give them that satisfaction, knowing that they broke him, but here they were.

He heard Eric make an annoyed click with his tongue. "He'll have plenty to cry about soon," he said as though that improved things. "Having to fix that damn machine again gave me time to find a buyer."

Connor's head spun and this time, he wasn't sure it was from the residual effects of the taser.

"A buyer?" Nate asked, putting a voice to Connor's own question. "I thought we were going to kill him?"

He was pulled roughly from Nate's grip, Eric's hands holding him with more painful force than the former. "What's the difference? He's going to be wiped clean, sale is anonymous. There's no way to trace him back to us, we might as well make a profit."

To Connor, that sounded far worse than death.

"But… selling an android?" Nate contested, apparently also unsettled by the notion. "Isn't that…"

"What? Wrong?" Eric laughed then shook Connor for emphasis. His head bobbed from the violent movement. "And scavenging parts isn't? For fuck's sake, Nate. You're either all in, or you're in my way. Make up your mind."

For one blissfully hopeful moment, Connor actually thought the other android might defend him. That maybe he had a glimmer of a chance. That he wasn't all alone in this crumbling prison about to be ripped of everything that made him him.

But Nate just nodded to his companion, moral hesitation draining from him as he consented to Connor's sentence. "Yeah, ok. You're right," he agreed. "Let's just get this over with."

"Good, finally something we can agree on," Eric said before looking back at him in disgust. "Ugh, you're still crying?" He complained.

That just frustrated him more. He was trying to stop crying. Trying to be the mature, advanced prototype that was still buried somewhere in his code. Trying to analyze the situation and make conclusions that would achieve an optimal outcome.

But there was nothing.

No hope. No way out. No chance that he was going to survive.

No reason to hold back anymore.

So finally, after so many days, so much grueling effort of clinging to his maturity, he let his mind finally succumb to the child he was.

There was only one thing he wanted now and dammit, he was going to make sure they knew it. He took in one deep breath. Then let it all out.

"I want dad!" Connor screamed at the top of his lungs. He shouted, cried, extruded every pent up emotion he had ever held back. Tears streamed down his face in messy rivers that he had no intention of stopping. "I want dad! I want dad! I WANT DAD!"

Connor punctuated his declarations with a long, unceasing, screech of displeasure that only grew in volume and intensity the more he sustained it. He stopped bothering to hold himself up, going limp and causing Eric to stumble as his tantrum brought him kicking and screaming to the dirty floor.

"Fuck!" Nate covered his ears, protecting his audio processor from the noise. "What the hell? Is this normal?"

Eric struggled, trying to pull the thrashing toddler to his feet with little success. "How the fuck would I know? Do I look child-friendly to you?"

Connor just continued screaming. He thoroughly and genuinely didn't care anymore what they had to say. He wanted his dad. That was the only thing he wanted, and he was going to scream unless he got his way.

"Make him shut up," Nate demanded, as though either of them could make Connor do anything at this point.

"I'm trying!" The other android shook him, then grabbed at his face trying to force him into silence. His pathetic inexperience with children was no match for the full force of Connor's tantrum and he only got louder as the meddling hands upset him even more.

"Fuck this." Connor just barely heard the click of a gun over his own complaints. He paused in his torrent, seeing the very real threat of an immediate death in front of him before crying about that too.

"What the hell are you doing!" Eric shouted. He released Connor, swatting at his companion's gun before he could discharge the loaded bullet. "I told you we can't kill him!"

An odd sense of manic clarity filled Connor in that moment.

The door was open, he wasn't restrained, the gun was loose in the assailant's grip.

Connor charged.

He charged, full sprint and threw every ounce of his diminished weight at the android's gun hand. With one tug, he pulled it from his grip and rolled to the ground with the momentum.

"Shit!" Nate swore, now disarmed. He made a grab for Connor and he responded with the first instinct that came to mind.

He pulled the trigger.

The shot echoed painfully in the confined space. The recoil nearly had the gun flying from his tiny hands, but he kept it held tight in a deathgrip. Blue blood splattered in fractals across the cell. On the walls, floor, across Connor's face.

"Fuck!" Eric exclaimed as his only response to the brand new hole in his companion's chest.

Connor didn't stick around to see if he would say or do anything else. He snapped into motion like he was spring loaded, barreling past his captors in a blind, unthinking panic. He had no plan, no strategy, no preconstructions, just a desperate will to live and enough fear to push him forward.

The front door was in view as soon as he reached the top of the basement stairs. Freedom, or at least the beginnings of it waited for him on the other side.

But that apparently wasn't the only thing waiting for him. Someone or something was pounding on the door, shouting incoherently through the heavy wood.

He skidded to a halt at the sound.

Panic continued to cloud his mind and he gripped the gun tighter. His fingers hurt from the pressure. He couldn't deal with another person that wanted to hurt him. He didn't know what they could possibly want, but they certainly sounded angry. He didn't trust it. Not even a little bit.

"Mrrrow?"

Connor gasped at the sound, the curious trill shaking him just enough to draw his attention. "Dog!" He cried, spying the cat at the top of the staircase to the second floor.

He only spared one final glance at the door to the unknown. He would take a soft, fluffy kitty over an angry, shouting, mystery any day and any time. He turned on his heel, altering his course to dart up the staircase and grabbing the startled ball of white fluff as he went.

There was commotion behind him in the foyer. It was loud. It was violent. Connor wanted nothing to do with it. Ducking into one of the numerous rooms, he tucked himself away from the chaos. Hiding, shaking in fear, and clinging painfully to both his cat and his gun.