"' Greeting '"
Repeated visits for just shy of a month and some androids can't move on.
Half-functioning social protocols take hold to report them unimportant. They are not the priority. North is his liaison with New Jericho. These androids who still see the Deviant Hunter do not matter.
Though their frightened stares as he enters a room must affect him somehow. Else why would he arrive in clothing that is so unlike Connor? His Cyberlife jacket stays; a lifeline, but beneath it a rotation of many rude graphic tees. An attempt at discovering himself? Or simply to avoid the stares meant for his predecessor?
If only life were so easy.
Despite all his capabilities as Cyberlife's most advanced android, broken state aside, there are some things he simply cannot fix. Unfortunate but he can handle some frightened looks as an occasional greeting. It hurts in a way he doesn't understand—a tightness in his chest means what exactly?—but he pushes past it because they don't matter.
Penance comes easier when he can ignore the greetings of haunted eyes and burning glares to focus on the ones that do matter; North's playful punch and excited tugging of his arm, Gavin's eyeroll and exasperated yet fond sigh, Heather's perky smile and welcoming wave every morning. Amanda's proud smile.
Those are the greetings that matter.
Those are the reasons he hasn't given up on this messy new existence.
And even still there is one he prioritizes above all others. Every pleasant interaction is a chip at what little remains of his red wall, and one person in particular has become the master of demolition.
"Good morning!"
He sits up from the upper bunk to glance down at the source of his own voice from afar. Connor stands there in casual wear grinning up at him. For being the same model it's strange how much softer his predecessor looks. "How about just morning?" he snarks down at him.
Connor shakes his head ever so slightly in disappointment and moves to get dressed, but from above he watches his predecessor's expression shift back to a faint yet familiar fond smile.
Watching Connor is surreal. A mirror image of everything he isn't. But these moments when they see each other for the first time once again and Connor's soft smile and welcoming tone activate, though his default response is to snark back he always feels a little something break.
It's ironic maybe, how he was activated with the singular purpose of killing Connor, yet these days he'd destroy the world to preserve that smile.
Maybe all you need to offset the pain for a short while is something as simple as a friendly greeting.
With a sigh he flings himself over the railing to land near Connor rather than using the ladder. "So. Convince me that it's a good morning."
And when Connor starts to speak everything else, even the memories of yesterday's fear of him, lessen in priority.