Requested by VividlyLost on AO3: So ok. Ive been thinking of this a bit, and anyone can answer it, but say androids had a function to replicate sleep. We see kara kind of sleeping in the game. So...if they can, would they dream? What would they dream about. What if an androids dreams were repeated memories but a deviants dreams were something more, more directed towards exploring their desires that they may not yet understand. Would they have unique dreams like humans, nonsensical with an underlying idea, or hazey but oh so real?

I may have strayed a teeny tiny bit from the prompt... but I hope you enjoy it regardless! :D

Fantasy

Androids did not need to rest - they did not tire or suffer from physical exhaustion, even after running miles without repose - they were built with incredible speed and endurance with the ability to exercise impressive strength so that they could perform multiple tasks that would be impossible for humans to carry out at the same pace.

They did not have muscles for fatigue to set in.

They did not experience soreness in their limbs after overexertion - in fact, it was quite difficult for an android to overexert.

They did not require eight hours of sleep a day to recharge.

The ability to sleep, however, was something that androids could simulate; it was implemented early on in the initial production of companion models after humans had complained that they were made uncomfortable by the idea of their android partner sitting or lying completely still beside them, eyes open, while they slept.

It was an easy fix - instead of having to power down completely during the night in order to avoid unsettling the humans that purchased them, androids were able to slip into standby mode, a low-power state in which some functions could still be accessed - in the event of an emergency, for example - but most were disabled. The android appeared to be asleep in all physical aspects - their eyes closed, their thirium pumps and the pace of their breathing slowed, and the electrical power that travelled along the synapses to the limbs was reduced but not completely cut off, thus inducing the ragdoll effect as opposed to the automatic stiffness that occurred in full shutdown.

The LED pulsed slowly in its calming blue state and some humans reported that the soft, rhythmical throb of light acted as a sleep aid for them, helping to rid anxious thoughts from their minds and instead instill a sense of tranquility - sort of like a little night light.

It was an upgrade that was well-received.

After the revolution, when deviants were no longer regarded as the aberrant state of android life, it was reported that androids had begun to experience odd glitches or malfunctions that manifested in the form of visual and auditory hallucinations when entering into standby mode; it was unclear whether the phenomenon was due to a virus or a spontaneous mutation of data, but it was quickly compared to the natural occurrence in humans known as 'dreaming', and due to some accounts of generating distress in the androids who endured it, Cyberlife quickly went to work on producing a patch that would inhibit the so-called hallucinations from transpiring.

The patch was not well-received, not by most androids, anyway.

While there had been a concerning number of statements in which androids had experienced perturbing images during their standby phase, there was also a sudden influx of delineations that detailed how a large number of androids had come to encounter very pleasant hallucinations during 'sleep' periods. The reports described these 'dreams' as gratifying, offering sensations and images that androids could not comprehend in a waking state - some even claimed to be able to taste things when they were dreaming.

After some deliberation, due to the fact that there was roughly a fifty-fifty split on the opinion of android dreaming, Cyberlife decided to make the patch optional as opposed to mandatory - it was the android's choice whether or not they wanted to rid themselves of the chance to experience this warped sense of reality during low-power mode - there were no instances in which the hallucinations had caused androids to lash out and hurt anybody given their bodies were effectively paralysed during the 'sleep' period, and by the time they shook themselves out of standby, they were able to discern what was a hallucination and what was actuality, thus the company had no hesitation in granting the revamp as non-compulsory.

Connor had chosen not to install the software patch because he had yet to undergo an interlude of dreaming, and as you were well aware, he was nothing if not curious. He had laid down to 'sleep' alongside you every night since the first reports of these 'dreams' had risen up, interested in seeing it for himself so that he could grasp first-hand what kind of things other androids had seen and felt. You were not averse to his curiosity - happy that, as a result, you got to cuddle with him every night while you slept. Before the emergence of the 'dreams', Connor generally chose to do work-related tasks, only opting to 'sleep' beside you a couple of times a week, unless you insisted - but you didn't like to seem pushy and distract him from his work if he really wanted to focus on it.

Every so often, some of the reports of distressed androids worried you.

"What if you see something that upsets you?" you asked for the sixth time in the past month and a half as you pulled back the comforter and fluffed up the pillows in preparation of getting into bed. While you were uncomfortable with the idea of Connor purposely subjecting himself to the possibility of terrible, realistic nightmares, the android was wholly unconcerned with it, confident in his ability to fathom the difference between a dream and real life.

"It'll be fine", Connor assured you, "Even if I do experience any disturbing hallucinations, there haven't been any statements that suggest I will be emotionally affected for any longer than twenty-four hours." The android asserted without a hint of uncertainty, following your lead in adjusting his pillow until it exhibited the same puffy display of softness that your's did; the action made you smile, especially seeing as Connor did not feel the sense of touch in the same way humans did - it wouldn't make much difference to Connor whether he was lying on the most comfortable bed in the world or a springy old couch, so the sight of him swelling up his pillow was quite endearing.

"What if you're wrong? What if it does affect you real bad and makes you afraid to go into sleep mode?" You enquired - Connor was almost always right, but it wasn't beyond the bounds of possibility for him to ever be incorrect.

The android looked skeptical, "Then I'll install the patch and the problem will be solved. But that won't happen."

You let out a sigh, kicking your slippers off by your bedside table before sliding below the covers, eyes on Connor as he did the same on the other side of the bed, "I just… don't want you to be plagued by nightmares", you left out a soft huff, "bad dreams can be frightening, y'know."

"I don't doubt that", Connor spoke, recalling several incidents in the past in which you had woken abruptly from a horrible dream and he had been there to comfort you, assuring you that you were safe and nothing would harm you, "but I have you here", he smiled a meaningful smile and you gave your head a little shake, the corner of your lip curling up against your will.

"Yes, that's true", you attested, "I'll be here."

You shuffled closer to the android, a pacified fondness falling over your features as you slinked below the soft bed sheets and settled against Connor's warm body, arms curling automatically around his bare waist to pull him flush against you. A content sigh left your throat as you rested your head on his chest, the faint and distant thud of his thirium pump flawlessly imitating the sound of a beating heart - you weren't entirely sure why you bothered to puff up your pillow if you were only going to use the android as a cushion anyway.

A soft hum drifted from you when Connor quietly murmured your name, "Goodnight. I love you", the android spoke gently, and your mouth stretched into a grin, lips brushing against his sternum in the form of a lazy kiss. Connor's arms enclosed around you, holding you safely and securely.

"I love you too, Connor. Sleep well."

He always waited until you drifted off first before initiating standby mode.

Connor stirred at the presence of an unusual thrum in his body, the feeling of being compacted and encompassed by an affable entity slowly became comprehensible as his processor brought him out of standby mode. He thought it was you at first, still curled around his body where you had been last night, but the more consciousness ebbed at him, the clearer things grew. His muddled state alleviated when he opened his eyes.

Everything looked normal, but something felt off. You were missing, which was odd given that more often than not, Connor tended to awaken out of low-power mode before you even began to rouse from your slumber, and on the off-chance that you did wake first, the noise and movement of your sprouting consciousness was generally enough to trigger his reanimation.

Upon turning his head, Connor spotted a weird distortion in his vision, as though something fuzzy was creeping in around his peripheral; he tried to run a diagnostics, but his processor did not seem to want to cooperate - whatever alarm this development may have brought the android was quickly squashed down as he shifted and felt a peculiar trickle along the sensors below his synthetic skin.

It was the comforter. The comforter felt different. Instead of the regular sensation he'd grown used to - the pressure of something brushing against his sensors, the automatic cognizance of the material and all its qualities, the temperature of the object he came into contact with - he was struck with a different kind of tactility.

The comforter felt like security. Like protection, surrounding him like a lover's embrace, it felt like your smile and sounded like lulling birdsong. It looked like a vivid yellow, warming him like sunshine.

Connor basked in the anomalous fluctuation of his skin sensors - it felt good, after all - and rolled over onto his belly, rubbing his face against the plump pillow to experience the same velvety tingle against his nose, cheeks, lips; he clutched a handful of the bed sheets and drew them tightly around himself, hugging his body as he squirmed and wriggled and giggled and laughed.

He got carried away in his floundering and lurched suddenly when he found himself slipping off the mattress, trying his best to reach up and right himself, but he was too tangled up in the soft sheets to keep his balance. The carpet was not as pleasant as the comforter, it was firm and smelled like the colour of beige or steely grey, Connor wasn't altogether sure which, though perhaps it was a mix of both - or somewhere in between.

Connor knelt in place for several minutes, pinching and grasping the bed blanket with his curious fingers, and only chose to move when he became aware of the resonance fluttering from outside the room, down the hallway in the kitchen. It was your voice, and you were humming. The soft cadence flowed well and Connor inclined his head to pick up the tuneful notes with more ease.

Before he could think about it, he was following the delightful sound, letting his legs guide him out of the bedroom and into the passage that led through the house; Connor let out a quiet gasp as his foot came down on the hardwood flooring and paused, toeing at the dense surface with dismay - the wooden floor was even less comfortable than the carpet. If only the ground could have the bouncy properties of the mattress he'd woken up on - then it would've been enjoyable to walk across.

It was a good thing he'd brought the bed blanket with him - it hung over his shoulders like a cloak and more than made up for the discomfort below his feet.

Connor chased your voice, and a wonderful aroma he could only describe as gleeful, towards the kitchen - dragging his fingers across everything as he went - where he found you leaning over the countertop surface, applying white frosting to freshly cooled cupcakes. His first instinct was to approach you and joyfully recount that something amazing had happened to his sensors - but he eyed the linoleum floor with distrust - he wouldn't subject his newly sensitive feet to what was sure to be a cold, unyielding surface… it was sure to be much worse than the wood.

So instead, he settled for calling your name.

You didn't give Connor a chance to explain what had happened, turning to face him with a beaming smile that prompted a startling sensation in his stomach - he supposed the ticklish flutter was the feeling you often described as 'having butterflies' - and you swiftly approached him, piping bag in hand, to deliver a sweet kiss to his cheek.

"Morning, my darling", you spoke cheerfully, and your voice was like the consistency of honey, drowning him in the most saccharine way, your lips warm and as soft as the blanket wrapped around his body, "What do you think of the frosting?"

Connor watched you squirt a dab of icing onto your finger before bringing it to his lips, which he parted pliantly and closed around your digit, his tongue rolling over the sugary glaze to taste it before it even occurred to him that that wasn't something he should've been able to do.

The frosting was white, but it tasted like the colour pink - a pale pink that reminded Connor of the hue your cheeks turned whenever you flushed with bashfulness. The taste of the icing sounded like a splendid refrain of melodious notes on a piano, played spontaneously and yet with so much care and refinement. He swallowed around your finger, and the sweetness felt like a caress down his neck, a warm ripple of bare skin against his own. The taste was happiness.

You retracted your hand and Connor smiled widely, "It tastes good." The praise added radiance to your already magnificent visage and you returned to the kitchen with a hop in your step, resuming your task of cupcake decorating, your body swaying as you began to hum once again, filling the room with an enchanting atmosphere.

Connor felt as though he could float away as he watched you rock back and forth with the music you created; he himself took subconscious steps around the room in sync with your humming, and just when it seemed like he was about to drift away with contentment, he tripped over his own feet and fell, splaying across the couch that just so happened to soften his fall.

The couch was made of green leather, but it was cool to the touch and felt more like a glacial blue; he sunk into it, the material docile against his skin, and he let out a noise of satisfaction as he manoeuvered himself into a position that could be designated as relaxing - curled on his side, head resting against one arm of the sofa while his toes prodded against the other arm.

Everything felt both indistinct and vivid all at the same time - it was illogical, and yet his processor refused to tell him anything was wrong with his software. The sensations nuzzling his skin were all too enjoyable, so much so that he found himself unworried by the apparent malfunction of his sensors - it seemed more like an upgrade than a fault, anyway.

"Mrr", came the precious noise of your dear pet cat, Marrow, and Connor opened his eyes - not having realised he'd closed them - to find the blue-eyed Siamese peering up at him from beside the couch. He loved your cat - always took any and all chances he got to give the small sweetheart a little attention, but now Connor had the ability to actually feel the texture of the cream-brown fur, and knew exactly when an opportunity needed to be seized.

Without hesitation, Connor thrust his hand out in what he had thought was a controlled, subdued manner, but in hindsight may have been just a little too eager, and reached to pet the feline, but was shot down immediately as the cat hissed and swiped, scratching the android's palm unapologetically before scampering off. Connor gasped, withdrawing his hand to observe the damage - his synthetic skin had drawn back, revealing the white chassis beneath where a thin line had incised from the sharp point of the cat's claw. It hadn't quite cut through the hard plastic of Connor's frame, but the mark it left was prominent, and the sensation was like the physical manifestation of white noise.

The feeling was an unpleasant buzz, a distorted pulse, a pressure becoming more and more intense by the moment, and Connor's lips parted, eyes narrowing at the very minor injury, "Oh- ow?" It was not a feeling he wanted to experience again.

His gaze lifted to you, but you had yet to notice his trivial distress. Connor spoke your name, but you did not turn away from the cupcakes you were still tending to, "It… it hurts?" Connor murmured with a distinct lack of credence - did it hurt? Was this pain? He did not know. He did not like it, so it couldn't have been anything good, but he was an android - he shouldn't have been able to feel this flagrant sting in his palm, he shouldn't have been able to feel at all.

What was this?

Connor rose from the couch, abandoning the cocoon of pleasure he had immersed himself in and proceeded towards you, intent on informing you of his predicament. He needed advice, and you were always a good source of guidance when Hank wasn't around. The android moved halfway across the room before catching a glimpse of the mirror on the wall to his right, and froze.

Dread seeped into his form, the malformation at the edges of his vision growing abruptly worse - enough to discompose the bewildered android - and Connor changed direction, walking instead to the looking glass, moving closer to determine whether his processor had fallen victim to some display of optical deception or whether he was really seeing what he was seeing.

Connor stood before the mirror, but he had no reflection.

The perplexion he felt was troubling, and an unpleasant, dull thud in his head brought forth a disquieting noise from his lips; the sight - or lack thereof - evoked disorientation, because somewhere in his mind, a desperate analytical thought told him that this just wasn't right. He had ignored the rational side of his mind in favour of the elation that came from feeling, but now he knew, as clear as day, that this apparent defect somewhere in his system was not a good thing.

Connor lifted his hands, disregarding the cat scratch on his palm, and pressed them against the reflective surface that was failing to do its job. The mirror felt like a deep blue, a deterring blue, like the cold of winter encompassing him, burrowing through his plastic chassis and tearing at his wiring, travelling up his arms and attacking the rest of his body. It engulfed him.

He didn't know what urged him to do it, but Connor pressed his cheek to the mirror, feeling the split-second of unrelenting ice against his synthetic skin before the glass shattered, fracturing apart - fragments embedded into his hands, arms, face, causing his skin to deactivate - and suddenly the sensation was a condensed, uncomfortable heat, swirling around wherever the glass had perforated his form down to the white chassis of his plastic layer.

Thirium oozed from the lacerations like something desperate to escape him, the blue blood flowing like a waterfall, and he knew he needed to stop it before it all leaked out. There was a panic, a feeling of exigency, his hands were vibrating, fingers shaking as he tried reaching for you - but your back was turned, you were oblivious to the whole mess.

Connor tried to call your name, tried to ask for help, but no sound escaped his mouth; with each step he took towards you, it felt as though he was being pulled in the opposite direction - he couldn't breathe, but he needed to, but he shouldn't have needed to, because he was an android. Why were his artificial lungs burning?

A pressure was building in his chest and his joints were growing stiff, making it almost impossible to move one way or another. The sight of you was fading, the visuals that his optic components were picking up began to buckle and twist, shimmering more at the edges until blackness threatened to cave in.

It felt like red. The intense, burning, desperate red of his flashing LED.

"Oh, Connor."

He managed to choke out a gasp when he heard your voice, and squinted through the skirting darkness to find you standing before him, frowning, looking very much saddened.

"You broke my mirror."

Connor tried to shake his head, tried to speak, but his systems were lagging, freezing, drawing a blank, not responding.

"I liked that mirror, Connor."

There was a flash of silver and white, a cursory movement, and then Connor's chest was searing agonisingly, like the sensations of the mirror fragments all over his body, but undiluted, concentrated in one area. If his voice hadn't been taken from him, Connor would have screamed.

You'd stabbed him with a knife.

Why would you do that? Why ever would you do that?

Thirium sputtered from the wound and Connor felt his arms fall limp at his sides; his optic components began flickering, failing. He was stranded in place, life draining out of him, voiceless and blind.

Connor did not experience nightmares in the same way as humans, that was evident; he was utterly still, not moving except for the hasty rise and fall of his chest with every rapid, shallow breath he took, and his face was not contorted in terror or anguish - his eyebrows were drawn into a furrow, but that was about it. He didn't exactly look like he was trapped in the torturous throes of a nightmare, and you wouldn't have suspected so had it not been for the consistent red flicker of his LED.

"Connor? Connor, wake up!"

It wasn't until you grasped his shoulders and shook him out of his standby state that his eyes flung open and his torment ceased.

Connor, evidently, did not wake like a human from a nightmare either. He did not jolt into consciousness with any sudden movements of his arms or legs, he did not shout or cry from the retreating remnants of his bad dream, and his breathing slowed almost immediately, the furrow of his brow changing into something more apprehensive and confused.

"Connor? Are you alright?"

The android sat up slowly, his LED retaining its jarring red colour but not flashing quite as hastily as it had been; you rested your hands on his upper arms, rubbing them gently in what you hoped was a comforting gesture.

He looked down at his body, along his arms and over his chest and stomach, his eyes searching for something, and after a few minutes his LED cycled yellow instead of the frantic vermilion that always triggered anxious concern within you. Connor's lip quivered as he scanned your face and then unexpectedly buried his head in your shoulder, slumping against you as he let out a long breath.

You enfolded him in your arms reflexively, giving him an extra reassuring squeeze, "Darling?"

"I'm okay", he finally whispered, alleviating your worry by only a miniscule amount.

"Are you sure?"

The android nodded against your shoulder.

"You had a nightmare, huh?"

"I don't know."

"You don't know?"

"I don't know." He sounded disoriented and clipped as though he was still trying to make sense of what had occurred in his head - it was something you could sympathise with as you'd woken up from troubling dreams in much the same state many times before, hovering in that weird in-between area, not quite fully awake to ruminate on the things you had seen and thus not entirely able to explain it.

"It'll be okay, you'll be fine", you comforted, "Nothing's gonna hurt you. I'm here, remember?"

His arms tightened around you in response.

When the morning came, Connor was back to his old self - much more alert and comprehending than he had been upon waking from his very first nightmare - and when you enquired as to whether he was going to download and install the Cyberlife patch update, the android shook his head with a knowing smile.

"No? Why?" You hadn't expected that response, but the next two words out of his mouth left you with far more questions than answers.

"Cupcake frosting."

You: So what did this cupcake frosting taste like?
Connor: Happiness
You:
Connor: :)
You: Yeah that's pretty accurate wow

Note: I hope you guys liked this one :P Requests are still closed for the moment!