Billie Eilish – bury a friend
Connor drove slowly through the Detroit streets, mindful of the snow. Taylor hadn't commented on the fact that he'd commandeered her car, just settled into the passenger seat for the ride. He tried to focus on the road, the unsafe conditions demanding his attention, but his eyes kept jumping to the right.
Curled into the seat, she was facing slightly away from him, staring out the window. No matter how many scans he ran, she appeared in perfect health. Her expression was completely blank. Still, she hadn't said anything to him since they left the cemetery.
The spire of the CyberLife tower was rising in the distance. He had an unsettled feeling as they drew closer. Perhaps he was simply remembering the last time he was here. Maybe it had more to do with the tone Markus had used when he said he needed Taylor to come. Whatever the case, he knew he was being irrational.
He pulled up to the building, right up to the doors, not seeing a reason not to. Besides, it was still snowing, and he didn't want Taylor to have to be outside in the cold for too long when she had just gotten warm.
Taylor exited the car, heading straight inside, leaving him to trail behind. When he entered the lobby, she had her head tilted back, staring up into the rows of glass paneled windows. As he came up behind her, she whispered, "I can't even see the top. I wonder if Elijah designed this place."
She frowned as she said it. He stepped closer to her, placing a hand on the small of her back. "Come on."
They made their way toward the elevator. Markus had already told him what floor to meet him on. There was a scattering of androids moving around the building. It appeared as though the previous occupants had been ordered to leave quite abruptly, and androids were picking up and reorganizing everywhere he looked.
The elevator doors slid closed, insulating them in silence. Connor's hand was still pressed lightly against her back, and he considered whether to let it fall away or to slide it around her waist. She had put her hands in her pockets, staring straight ahead, lost in thought.
They moved through the floors quickly, and before he could decide what to do with his hand, the doors pinged softly open. Taylor glanced around, then looked up at him expectantly. He knew from blueprints that they had arrived in research and development, but Markus hadn't been any more specific on where to find him.
"About time." Connor turned his head as they stepped out of the elevator. The redhead was perched up against the wall, arms crossed over her chest, a look of thinly veiled disdain on her face. North.
"I'm sorry I made you wait so long." Taylor immediately apologized. North frowned at her.
"Yes, well. I think this whole thing was unnecessary, but Markus insisted." She looked down her nose at them, and the blonde shrunk away almost subconsciously. North seemed to sigh. "I suppose you did help us. Follow me."
She glanced between them before turning on her heel and walking off. They immediately followed, sensing she would leave them behind without a second thought. Connor finally pulled his hand away from Taylor, allowing her to walk a couple of steps ahead of him while he took in their surroundings.
There appeared to be all variety of labs that they were passing. He was reading descriptions on the door plaques as they walked. In the few open doorways, he spotted a couple of mid-production androids in various stages of development. He found himself wondering if Markus had found any other Connor models. He already knew he wasn't the only one.
Surely that wasn't the reason they were here now, though. Markus had wanted Taylor specifically. He couldn't imagine what the deviant leader could have found, but he had to reason that if it involved other RK800 androids he would have just asked Connor himself to come.
Markus was waiting at the end of the hallway for them, his hands tucked behind his back. He nodded to North as they approached and then smiled at Taylor, who smiled in return. He spotted Connor over her shoulder and offered him a nod as well.
"Thank you for coming." He shifted his two-toned gaze back to the blonde, giving her a once over. "I trust everything is well?"
"Yes, thank you." North rolled her eyes and turned to go, not even bothering to say goodbye to any of them. Taylor followed her with her eyes before she turned back. "Though I suppose that depends on why I'm here?"
"Right." Markus faltered, and his sudden hesitation made her smile fade away. Connor suddenly wished he had stayed at her side, his hand still pressed against her. "It's sort of hard to explain. It's better if I show you."
Markus turned to enter the doors behind him, but Taylor still stood there. Connor could sense the rapid ticking of her heart and was about to step forward when she turned, reaching a hand back for him. He tried to mask his surprise, sliding his hand into hers and gently squeezing her fingers. He led her through the door before Markus could noticed their pause.
The room they stepped into looked just like the other research labs they had passed along the way. Meticulously clean and organized. Sterile. Though this one did appear to see more recent use than some of the others. There were a few androids in charge stations along the right wall as they walked further in.
Markus stopped in front of them and turned, raising his arm in a half wave to gesture behind him. Taylor froze mid-step, and her fingers went slack in his hand. Connor heard her sharp intake of breath as he finally took in what she had seen. His LED flickered to red, circled there for several seconds.
There, standing in an android charge station apart from everything else, was an android. Not just any android, a Chloe. Connor scanned it, but he couldn't find any model or serial number attached to it. The longer he looked at it, the more he realized that it didn't look like the other ST200 or even the original RT600 he had seen at Elijah Kamski's house.
No, as Connor glanced to his left, to Taylor's rapidly paling face, he knew that it most closely resembled the original herself. The android didn't even have a telltale LED at its temple. Taylor took another careful step forward, reaching out. Then she stopped, her hand still well short, unable to touch it.
Connor scanned the android again. It was a perfect replica, down to the measurement. As an android, he certainly could not get sick, but he felt something akin to nausea churning through his biocomponents as he thought of what must have gone into making the machine in front of them.
Taylor's hands were shaking, and she folded her arms over her middle, tucking them into her sides. Her brow was creased, but the rest of her face was blank as she stared at the look-a-like. "How?"
"According to the research notes," Markus began, looking relieved to have something to say. He had been watching Taylor's reaction, his face full of apprehension, his shoulders tensed. "They were able to build an identical copy of you by reconstruction through photographs and videos. There is no shortage of those available."
Taylor seemed to sway on her feet, but Connor immediately put his arm around the middle of her back, steadying her. Now that he was touching her, he could feel her hands clenching and unclenching into her coat. She was trying to hide it.
"There is a detailed log on the progress with the model that ends several weeks ago, so they were working on this fairly recently." Markus told them, glancing between the two but settling back on Taylor's face.
"He was going to replace me with her." She said quietly. This made Markus raise his eyebrows in disbelief, and Connor suspected he wasn't fully aware of the situation between Taylor and Anthony Jacobsen. Connor recalled the night of Hart Plaza, the bruises fresh on her neck, when she had told him the same thing. Anthony wanted to replace her with a Chloe.
"It has never been activated. It is not programmed with any of the default personality modules." Markus looked behind him, at the android, and back to Taylor. He seemed at a loss for what else to say.
"Can we use it as evidence?" Connor turned toward Taylor, his own eyebrows raising in surprise. He could still feel her hands clenching, her eyes hadn't moved from the immobile android, but there was a note of determination in her voice. "Against my stepfather."
She turned her head then to meet his gaze, and he realized she must be directing the question to him. The detective android. Yet he was distracted by the wide-eyed terror in her eyes that he could see now that she was facing him. His fingers tightened on her arm, but he held himself still. She was trying not to fall apart in front of Markus.
"You want to turn this over to the Detroit Police?" Markus sounded aghast at the idea, but Taylor ignored him. She was intent on waiting for Connor to answer her question, and Connor was trying to communicate with just his eyes that this was going to be okay.
"These research notes," Connor began, finally tearing his eyes away. If he kept looking at her, he would give in to his desire to pull her against him, whether or not Markus was watching. The deviant leader had walked in on them kissing, after all, and implied he knew all about Connor's feelings the last time the two spoke. "Do they say anything about the intended use of this android?"
"No. They were all written by the scientists who were working on the project. Any mention of Anthony Jacobsen is few and far between." Markus considered for a moment. "I suppose there may be something in his office, in his private things."
"Without proof of intent, the evidence is weak at best." Connor said. "If you would let me search through Anthony's office—"
"I'll do it." Markus waved him off. He was still watching Taylor's blank face with concern. "We could also try activating it. There may be something inherent in its programming."
Her head snapped back around, and she shook it no vigorously. She stared at the machine in horror, as though she was imagining it coming to life with her face, speaking with her voice. The idea unnerved Connor as well.
"Let's leave it for now." He said. Markus nodded his assent. He looked her over again, and whatever he was going to say next, he reconsidered.
"At least send a copy of the notes to Gavin." Taylor persisted. "Without the android, some of it must corroborate what I said in my statement and what Anthony said himself about replacing me with a Chloe."
"Gavin?" Markus said, perplexed.
"Detective Gavin Reed," Connor elaborated. "He is the lead detective on Taylor's case against her stepfather." He glanced back to Taylor. "It certainly won't hurt your case."
"I'll make it happen." Markus stepped forward, reached for her. Taylor's arms were still curled around herself, so he rested his hand lightly on her shoulder. He gestured to the room around them, but was implying the greater building when he said, "Thank you for making this happen, Taylor."
"Thank you for showing me this." Taylor managed to nod. Connor knew that he was a prototype, equipped with an advanced social module that could interpret subtle facial expressions. But he couldn't fathom that Markus wasn't picking up on any of the panic eating through the blonde at his side.
"We should go." Connor moved his arm along her back, sliding a hand over her clenching fingers and tugging her against his side. "Taylor needs to finish packing for tomorrow."
"Of course." Markus had tried to cover up his surprise as he dropped his hand, but of course Connor had seen it. He didn't much care as he steered Taylor back toward the doors. She didn't have the strength to protest, didn't even say goodbye. She was perfectly malleable to his direction as they reached the elevator.
The doors slid closed. He felt the shudder go through her as he turned, wrapping his other arm around her, burying his face into her hair. The tension drained out of her muscles, leaving her shivering against his chest. She was mumbling, and it took him a few seconds to distinguish the words. 'I'm sorry' over and over again.
"It's okay. Taylor, you're okay." He scanned her again, her erratically high heartrate, her hands still clenching and unclenching into her coat. Small drops of perspirations were beading on her forehead. She was hyperventilating, her muttered words getting lost in her frantic breathing. She was having a full-blown panic attack, he realized, his own dread start to rise.
Connor pulled away from her. He placed both hands on her face, cupping her cheeks. "Taylor, look at me. Please."
Her eyes shifted up to his face just as the elevator reached the lobby. He ignored it, focused on her blue eyes, wide and full of fear. "Breathe with me."
He didn't know if this would work. He just knew that if she didn't slow down her breathing very soon that she was going to pass out, and he had watched her do her own deep breathing to battle her anxiety time and time again. He also knew that she didn't have her bag with her, that it had been back at the hotel, one of the other reasons he had been worried when she wasn't there, so he couldn't give her any of her medication.
So he drew a deep breath of air in through his nose and held it. It was unnecessary for him to breathe. He didn't need oxygen to survive, but he could simulate everything that a human could do in order to better integrate. It was one of his features.
He almost released the breath in relief when Taylor finally followed his lead, taking a slow breath in her nose. She faltered halfway, gasping for air, but tried again. He held his initial breath until she finally managed, then slowly released it. He leaned in, pressed his forehead against hers, took in another breath.
The doors to the elevator closed on them, tired of waiting for their exit. After several breaths, she was matching him decently on pace. She had shut her eyes, but as the minutes passed, with every breath he could feel her heartrate slowing.
"Connor." He didn't know when he had closed his eyes too, but he opened them at the sound of her voice. She was peering up into his face, eyes still wide but less afraid. Slowly, she reached her hand up and tucked her fingers into the crook of his elbow. They were still shaking. "We can go now."
She pulled his hand away from her face. They were standing in the elevator, so Connor reached for the button to open the doors, pulling away from her. Taylor shifted to stand beside him, wrapping both of her shaking hands around his arm as they stepped back into the lobby.
"Are you sure you're alright?" He watched in his peripherals as she stumbled a step but kept moving, leaning into him. A couple of androids had turned to look, still curious at the idea of a human in their midst no doubt, but Taylor didn't notice. She just nodded.
He reached his other hand over and placed it over her fingers, clenched claw-like into his arm. They relaxed just a little. She mumbled an apology, but he shook his head. He couldn't feel pain, after all.
They were across the lobby. He could see the car just where he'd left it, pulled to the front of the doors. Connor opened the passenger side door for her and handed her inside. She looked up at him, her face pale, and he struggled to close the door.
By the time he walked around and slid into the driver's seat, she was staring into her lap, where she'd tucked both of her trembling hands. Her shoulders were huddled forward. He must have been staring at her for longer than he realized, his hands inert on the steering wheel, because she finally glanced up again and met his eyes.
"It's okay, Connor." She dipped her head again and he found it hard to believe. In a smaller voice, she said, "I'm okay. Can we go, please?"
Unsure what else he could do, he started the car and shifted it into gear, driving them away from the CyberLife building.
Taylor felt the sluggishness in her limbs as she sorted through her piles of clothes, trying to pack her suitcase. Connor had not been lying to Markus when he said that she still needed to finish getting ready for their flight tomorrow, which was leaving at an ungodly hour of the morning. So no matter how much she just wanted to curl into a ball on the bed, she couldn't. Not yet.
Still, it felt like she was moving through water, like someone had put weights on her arms and legs. Connor had insisted she take her Xanax when they got back to the hotel room. She had still been shaking. She agreed because he looked so worried, so at a loss on what to do for her, and she couldn't bear the guilt.
The familiar fog had wrapped around her mind. She hated it. The feeling of being here but not here. And the worst part was that the fear was still there, compartmentalized in her head, just enclosed behind frosted glass, indistinct. No amount of medicine could take it away. That much she had learned a long time ago.
That, and Connor was still there, still worried. She felt like she was moving in slow motion and she could feel his eyes following her. He'd offered to help, to pack for her, to do anything. But there was nothing he could do.
"Your phone." Taylor looked up. Connor had leaned closer, holding her cellphone out to her, and she realized that it was ringing. The frown on his face deepened as she blinked at it. Alex's name was flashing on the screen.
"Answer it?" She knew she couldn't talk to Alex like this. Just like she couldn't ignore his call. "Tell him I went to bed early. Because of the flight."
Connor hesitated, his eyes widening. The phone kept ringing, and when she didn't bother to reach for it, he obliged her request and answered it. He turned away. Her mind was too blurry to focus, and she kept tucking the last of her clothes into her suitcase, not knowing if he had lied for her or told the truth.
Sliding the zipper closed, she realized she was finished. Nothing left to do.
She lifted her head. Connor was watching her again. The phone was inert on the bed beside him. Staring into his eyes, she tried to remember the time when he had no emotions at all, or if that time had ever existed.
"I'm always like this." The words came out without her thinking about them. He blinked. Tilted his head. Puzzled by her, as always. Maybe that was the real reason he stayed, fascinated by her idiosyncrasies. Well, she would give him another clue if that's what he wanted.
"In here." She reached her hand up, touched her fingers to her temple. "Always afraid." Her mind was still hazy. She should stop talking, but she couldn't. It was like being drunk, but less happy. "There's nothing you can do."
The crease in his brow smoothed over. He stared back into her eyes for a few long seconds, taking in every detail of her face, probably scanning her again. Then he raised his hand out toward her, palm upward, reaching, and waited.
It was her turned to be puzzled, looking at his offered hand. He didn't say anything. He didn't respond to her words. Her eyes flickered back up to his face, and he raised his eyebrows just slightly. He wanted her to come closer.
She hesitated. For all of a second. Then her feet were moving. The room was so small, it only took a couple of steps, as slow as she felt. Her hand reached out for his. Their fingers brushed together.
Connor moved too fast for her to see, but she felt his hand moving along her arm, felt both of his arms tighten around her as he lifted her from the floor. All she could manage was a gasp before she was on the bed with him hovering just over her. She swore her heart stopped.
"I'm not going anywhere," he said firmly as he moved away, shifting his weight to the side. She reached up, grabbed him. Off balance, he fell into the bed next to her, his left arm still trapped under her back. She curled herself against him, crossing her arm over his chest and tucking her leg over his thighs, pinning him there.
He stayed very still. She could feel the thumping of his thirium pump, fast, irregular. Was he nervous, because of her? He always looked so composed, she couldn't always tell. He moved his arm, finally, circled it around her back. With his other hand, he slid his fingers along her forearm, up toward her shoulder, drawing goosebumps the whole way.
"Was this your way of telling me to go to sleep?"
"It seemed easier than arguing." Taylor smiled into his shoulder.
"Do you plan on ending all of our arguments this way?" She had closed her eyes, but she was imagining the familiar smirk on his face. His fingers were still gently stroking along her arm.
"Do you plan on doing a lot of arguing?" A sigh swept through her. Her hand fisted into his jacket. She wanted to pull herself up, to kiss him. The panic attack, the medication fogging her thoughts, she felt like a shell. Drained of life. Walking through mud. So she relaxed her fingers.
"Maybe you're right. This time." He laughed softly. It was a majestic sound. The rumble of it vibrated through his chest, moved through the shell of her, filled her with warmth. "Can I stay here?"
She hadn't meant to say it, just mumbled it into his chest as she burrowed closer. Connor's hand stilled, his arm relaxing onto hers, his fingers curling around her elbow and staying there. "As long as you like."