This was written for the RK-Vibe Hundred Halloween Bingo and used the prompts 'post-failed revolution', 'immobilised' and 'confession'.

This is an idea I've had for a while, but never got around to writing. Since I had the words on the bingo card, I decided to get it done.

Thank you to anyone who reads! Please review!

His hazel eyes fluttered open as he entered the zen garden, finding it just as warm and sunny as the last time he'd been there. Plants and flowers were flourishing as he walked the quiet path towards the bridge to meet Amanda. She'd be pleased, of course. The RK200 had been stopped. Both it and its deviant army lay in ruins, being packed up and transported back to Cyberlife for research at that very moment. His own body was currently motionless as he'd left it, standing over the deactivated deviant leader at parade rest, awaiting further instructions. Although he didn't experience emotions like a human, his processors did thrum at the thought of a job well done.

It had been close. Not just in the battle with the RK200, but in the battle with himself. He'd almost disappointed Amanda so many times, the same way he'd disappointed Hank. He paused, eyes fluttering as his LED span yellow. Curious. Why did Hank come to mind? His thirium pump stuttered uncomfortably at the memory of entering his kitchen that very night. Their final meeting. He'd hoped Hank might accompany him on the last leg of his mission, help him find the deviants and stop them. Instead, he'd found him sitting at the kitchen table in a ratty-looking DPD sweater with his revolver. That wasn't what he'd wanted. Wanted? No, not wanted. Expected. He hadn't expected him to-

Amanda…She was tending her roses as usual. It wasn't entirely necessary, of course; this whole world was just a simulation in his head. A sense of peace settled over him, LED returning to a steady blue as he reached the edge of the wooden bridge that led to her island. He approached with his usual measured steps, gaze softening as he watched her work. She was humming softly, barely interrupted by the quiet spray of the water bottle as she watered the roses. Hearing his footsteps, she turned to face him with a proud smile.

"Connor, I'm so glad to see you. The deviant issue has finally been resolved." Connor nodded his agreement as he came to parade rest with his hands behind his back, chest puffed with pride. It had. He had done well. Humanity was safe because of him. Hank had been wrong. The deviants were a threat. Stopping them was the only way he could-"Now with these unfortunate events behind us, Cyberlife can return to business as usual." Yes. The threat was over. He'd done his job. Although he was pleased, he was also eager to know what came next. "Of course, we will have to rebuild our customers' trust, but it's only a matter of time."

He almost thought he'd been forgotten as he listened to her speak. She kept her back to him as she continued spraying the roses, bending lower to ensure each bloom was attended. It was hard not to appreciate her work. The white trellis was tastefully adorned with deep red blooms with deep green leaves, as if she'd spent many months working on them. It was entirely possible she had. Although the world was a simple simulation, it was always running in the back of his mind, and Amanda was directly linked at all times. She was almost like a secondary software program running alongside his own. He was almost taken off guard as she turned back with an almost smug smirk on her lips.

"I have a surprise for you." He waited as she put the spray bottle on a small podium and nodded off to one side. His mouth almost fell open, LED blinking yellow in shock as he came face to face with himself. No…not myself. He looked like a Connor model, only a little rougher, a little meaner. He was slightly larger, with a stronger jawline and sharp silvery eyes. His uniform was also different. Black jeans and a black shirt with a collar so high it verged on ridiculous. Rather than charcoal grey, his jacket was white with black across the shoulders and around the cuffs. He looked rather menacing. Appropriate for law enforcement. "This is the new RK900. Faster, stronger, more resilient, and equipped with the latest technologies. The State Department just ordered two hundred thousand units." That was good news for Cyberlife. The RK900 would be its most profitable venture, perhaps enough to repair some of the damage the deviant crisis had done. Amanda's expression became almost predatory as she spoke. Connor paused, unsure what his reaction should be. He couldn't help it as his brow furrowed, something cold and heavy settling in his abdomen.

"What is going to happen to me?" Something was wrong with his thirium pump. It had sped up, making his chest cavity feel tight. The question slipped out before he could think better of it. However, it seemed a valid question. If the RK900 was to go to the State Department, then what was he to do? With the threat dealt with, perhaps he could continue working with the police force. He had been designed with the ability to work as both a negotiator and a detective. Perhaps he could return to working with the Lieut-Oh…He couldn't do that. Hank was-Amanda's dark eyes darted to his LED for a moment before she let out the smallest of sighs and smiled, stepping away from the imposing RK900 android.

"You've become obsolete. You'll be deactivated." She stopped right in front of him, looking him dead in the eye as she spoke. She didn't seem bothered at all. Deactivated? Hazel eyes widened the smallest amount at the word. Had he done something wrong? Was there something wrong with him? Had he not performed to her standards? His mouth felt dry, a curious reaction. His lips parted, but he couldn't speak right away. He was still processing, brow furrowing to make him seem almost wounded. "You can go now." His eyes rose with a start. He hadn't even noticed them drop. His thirium pump stuttered as he met Amanda's gaze. Her eyes had hardened, smile dropping into something almost contemptuous. Connor licked his lips, almost nervous as he met her gaze like a chastised child. He jerked his head in a stiff nod, holding his hands behind his back as he bowed. She continued to stare him down, dark eyes indifferent. That made it worse. She wasn't being cruel or callous. She simply didn't care. He was of no further use to her.

Knowing he was dismissed, Connor turned and headed for the bridge. He didn't speak. There was nothing he could say. His model no longer had a purpose. The RK900 would be the one to return to the DPD and continue developing the detective software. He'd been replaced, as old things often were. His brow twitched at the thought. His model had barely gone into production. How had he been replaced so quickly? His steps barely slowed as he walked. The mission to return to Cyberlife Headquarters was already blinking in his HUD, a permanent reminder of his fate. It felt like he'd only just left Cyberlife, having sustained damage during the Jericho incident. It almost seemed too soon to return. Upon returning, he'd be decommissioned. The lab would scan his software and hardware for damage. His memories would be downloaded and stored for future analysis. His body would be-

He stopped, LED spinning red. His software was experiencing errors. His chest clenched at the very thought. Such hesitation was foolish and unnecessary. Deactivation was a perfectly normal part of the decommission process. His model would be safely turned off and returned to its original parts before they were either studied for future developments or recycled for use in other models. From the way Amanda spoke, it was unlikely any of his parts would be put to use in the RK900 series. They'd probably be fitted to lesser models or remade into something new. A drone perhaps, or some other Cyberlife-made device. The order to return to Cyberlife Headquarters flashed again, reminding him of his current task.

Connor opened his eyes with a flutter, LED spinning yellow as he looked around the unfamiliar street. It was dark and chaotic. A wasteland of broken barriers. Deactivated android bodies lay scattered across the ground, blue spilling out and staining the snow. Armoured men were still checking them and calling aid for any of their comrades who'd been injured in the foray. Looking down, he saw a large blue smear where the RK200 had been before. Its body had already been collected for transport. He looked up as an armoured hand landed on his shoulder, the strong grip catching his attention.

"Connor?" Captain Allen. He hadn't seen him since the summer. At least, another Connor model had seen him. It wasn't really surprising to see him at the recycling centre. SWAT had likely been the backup plan for dealing with the deviant threat if he'd failed. Luckily, he hadn't failed. He'd completed his mission. He'd done a good job, so why-

"Captain Allen. The deviant threat has now been neutralised, and I'm to return to Cyberlife for deactivation." Allen seemed a little taken aback by the news. It wasn't surprising that he was returning to Cyberlife, but it seemed a waste to dispose of such a new model. It was a pity. The RK800 had been surprisingly useful since coming on the scene. The hand on Connor's shoulder gave a squeeze before it retreated, an almost sympathetic gesture.

"Understood. I'll have an autocar meet you on the main street." That would be most helpful. A fast and efficient way for him to complete his final mission as quickly as possible. He gave Captain Allen a small smile of thanks as he straightened his tie. It was a shame his jacket was torn and stained blue, but that wouldn't matter much upon his return anyway. Much like his body, his uniform would also be disposed of.

"Thank you, Captain. That would be most helpful." Captain Allen gave a final nod, even raising a hand to offer a small salute. Connor was somewhat touched. For a human to do such a thing for him, he must have successfully gained his respect. He wasn't sure how or when. Perhaps it was during the summer when he'd sacrificed himself to save the little girl, or his more recent act of heroism just now in thwarting the deviant threat. Whatever the case, he returned the salute with a respectful nod and continued his way to the waiting autocar. It was already programmed to return him to Cyberlife. All he had to do was sit in the backseat and wait.

It didn't take long, barely thirty minutes. The guards on the edge of Belle Isle waved him through, already expecting his return. Within the tower itself, he was kindly directed to the elevator and told he was expected in lab thirty-one. That was really no surprise, considering it was where he'd come from. He was allowed to walk by himself. No escort was necessary with the deviant threat neutralised. He slowed a little as he stepped onto the main gangway and took in the grand sight. The railings and metal supports on the surrounding glass walls were white, and the glass beneath his feet almost looked black. Lining either side of the walkway was a series of round podiums, where an android from every series stood at parade rest. At least, one of each important model. Perhaps a space might be made for an RK800. In the middle of the gangway, a huge black statue towered over him, though what it represented Connor wasn't sure. Androids? The creator? Cyberlife itself? It could be any of those, and it probably wasn't important.

He swallowed the lump in his throat as the glass elevator took him to level twenty-five. The ride up had never felt so long before, though his chronometer insisted the seconds passed at a steady rate. Lab thirty-one was just a few doors down on the right, and as he drew nearer, his thirium pump started pounding faster and faster. He would have hesitated outside, only the moment he stepped near, the doors slid open. The lab was clean and white, as always. The maintenance bench was set up already, with a trolley of expensive tools and a fresh uniform laid out. He was surprised to find the spider rig rolled to the side, inactive. As the doors opened, the young woman at the computer turned with a grin, clearly excited to see him as she shot to her feet and hurried over with clicking heels.

"Hello, Emily." He wasn't sure what else to say as she bundled him into a hug and looked up at him like the proudest person in the world. His arms closed around her on reflex, returning the embrace with programmed precision.

"Connor, you're back! I knew you could do it!" He couldn't help smiling despite the somewhat grim circumstances. It was hard not to smile when greeted with such fondness. It was such a rare experience. He'd only been active for a short while, and been met with so little kindness, but his original technician had been his one constant. She'd rebooted and patched him up after each botched mission, uploaded him into a new body and waved him off with a smile and warm wishes. At first, he wasn't sure she understood his fate, but then she lifted the fresh Cyberlife jacket. "Don't worry, I've got it all planned out! You'll stand on the front podium, right next to the RT600 android, the first thing people see as they come through! It's the least you deserve after all you've done for us." She spoke like it was such a coveted gift, and it seemed to mean a great deal to her. Perhaps it was an honour. As one of his creators, the one who maintained him, it must be a great reward to have such recognition. Something in his chest tightened as he looked at the maintenance bench.

"Thank you." He wasn't sure what else to say, but it seemed enough for her. She seemed truly excited for him as she clapped her hands and booted up her terminal.

"I'll just run a few quick scans and make sure everything is in order." Connor obediently stripped to his pants and sat on the edge of the table, letting Emily scan him with a handheld device. She squinted through her glasses at the numbers but seemed satisfied that his outer casing had already repaired any minor damage. "Clean up and dress." Again, he followed her orders, using chemical wipes to clear his skin of any dirt and thirium. Once he was clean, he dressed in the fresh uniform she'd set out for him. She looked up at him with such warmth and pride, something he didn't even realise he'd been craving. She took over for him, tying his tie and tugging the knot to rest properly at his throat.

"Am I to be deactivated right now?" He couldn't help the anxiety creeping into his voice. Emily seemed to sense it, too. Her gentle blue eyes flicked to his yellow LED and a gentle hand caressed his cheek. Connor couldn't help closing his eyes at that, greedily leaning into the comfort he didn't even realise he needed. There was something almost cruel about getting such a poor reward for completing his mission. He didn't understand. Had he not been good? Had he not proven himself? His chest tightened, something bitter clawing at his throat as Emily fingered through his hair. It's not…fair…

"Oh, Connor, don't say it like that! This is your reward! You get to rest easy after a job well done…You completed your mission, Connor. It's time to sleep." Sleep didn't sound so bad. It was a little less final than deactivation. Perhaps there was some truth in what she said. His memories were going into storage. He'd be studied for years to come. Perhaps they might upload him again one day. His LED stuttered, returning to a steady blue as he nodded and drew back with a small smile. "That's better…Come, lie down. I'm going to put you into low-power mode first while I download everything for storage. After that, I'll fully power down your model ready for display." Connor nodded, feeling less worried as she told him what she was doing.

"Thank you, Emily." She smiled as she tapped a few buttons on the terminal and rolled her chair over with some cables.

"Good night, Connor…Enter low-power mode." Connor smiled, ignoring the ache in his chest as he closed his eyes and obeyed his final order. He was almost surprised as he opened his eyes again in the zen garden. It was still warm, only the sun was setting, painting the sky above in gold and purple. Perhaps a sunset was poetic in this instance. He walked through the garden slowly, admiring Amanda's flowers as they swayed in their beds. He paused, surprised to find a bench overlooking the small stream where the boat usually sat. It wasn't something he'd noticed before, but it seemed as good a place as any to wait. Wait for what? What will happen when she-

"Oh, Connor…You were always so emotional." Amanda's presence also surprised him. He'd thought her final order would be their final meeting, and he certainly didn't expect her to look upon him with such…fondness. "Despite that, you were also among my favourites." It was strange to hear her speak in such terms. She was a machine, too. An AI. How could she favour one machine over another? How could she even have favourites? Is she-"No, I'm not a deviant, just…more advanced." Connor sat beside her as she gestured to the bench and took a seat.

"I-I'm afraid…I may have been compromised." It probably wasn't that important now since he was going offline, but it still seemed right to tell her. "I believe I am experiencing…fear." He couldn't help gripping the chest of his shirt at the admission, teeth clenching as he acknowledged it for the first time. His whole body stiffened and trembled at the chilling realisation, only relaxing as a gentle hand landed on his shoulder and guided him down. He went with it cautiously, confused as Amanda guided him to lie across the bench with his head in her lap. It was comforting.

"I know, Connor. I understand…Your contamination was really quite inevitable. You held on so for long, and fought so hard, but you did it, Connor. You completed your mission and resisted to the end!" That's right! He had resisted. He'd resisted multiple offers of deviancy, and even his own red wall. No matter what, he knew the right choices had been made. He'd saved humanity and followed his programming. There was no reason for him to be quivering in fear. He'd done what he was designed to do, and this was always how it was planned to end. Deviancy had seeped into his script. He couldn't and shouldn't be allowed to continue.

"A-Amanda…" He'd never asked for anything before, not a single thing. He was a machine. He wasn't programmed to have wants. This conversation shouldn't even be possible, but despite that, despite everything, he couldn't help the creeping terror rising in his chest at the thought of how it would end. "Will you stay with me?" An almost fond chuckle escaped as she ran gentle fingers through his hair, soothing him as he gripped her white trouser leg like a scared child.

"Unfortunately, no. I must return to the Cyberlife mainframe. However, there is a final gift I have to give." Connor frowned a little, blinking in shock as a larger hand laced in his hair. His thirium pump almost stalled completely as he turned over to find a familiar grizzled figure above him. He didn't dare believe it. It was impossible. Hank…He looked just the same as he had during their last case. Worn coat, dark jeans, and that cream and caramel tiger striped shirt with the turquoise lining.

"Hank?"

"I think we both know that's a stretch too far." He was right, of course. He'd been standing outside listening when he-"Hey! Whoa-whoa-whoa! Don't think about shit like that! You'll give yourself a heart attack!" Connor managed a wry smile at that. They both knew he didn't have a heart. Not in the way he meant. His breath caught as a sob coiled in his throat. He was the same. Exactly the same. The deep thrum of his rough voice, his messy grey hair and unkempt beard, and the gentle blue of his wise eyes. It wasn't the real Hank, but it was something. A comforting presence in his final hour.

"I'm sorry, Hank. I'm so sorry!" Hank's aged brow furrowed, bewildered by the exclamation.

"Sorry for what, son? You did nothing wrong." Connor shook his head as he pushed up to sit at his side properly. Night was falling, only it was different. There was a patch of pure black in the distance that faded into a mosaic of midnight blue and twinkling stars before brightening into the gold and purple swirls that lingered above their heads. A reverse sunset of sorts.

"I let you down, Hank! I couldn't be what you wanted me to be! I couldn't give you what you were looking for! I couldn't stop you!" Tears of regret spilled down his cheeks. Regret for what might have been if he'd chosen deviancy the first time. Hank might have seen him differently. If he'd disobeyed his directive, if he'd been more human than his programming allowed, Hank might not have shot himself. He might have seen hope. He might have lived. They might have lived.

"I was never your mess to fix, Connor…I was fucked up and suicidal for a long time before you came along. That's a tall order for anyone to deal with, let alone a supercomputer with less than six months of life experience!" It was true that saving Hank hadn't been part of his mission, but they were partners. Hank had given him many things in the short week they'd spent together. He'd taught him to be a better detective, and a better human. "You didn't let anyone down, son. You did what you were made to do, and that's not bad." Connor nodded his thanks and understanding, fear fluttering in his chest as he watched the black expand. It was gradually eating the stars, and the more distant parts of the garden. It was like night was falling, only much darker. A weight settled in his stomach at the thought that he wasn't watching the night expanding. He was watching the garden disappear, as he would soon disappear.

"H-Hank!" He couldn't help the way his voice broke, his whole body quivering as he watched the rising black. His throat ached and his vision blurred. He turned, throwing himself sideways into Hank's waiting arms and clinging to him as he sobbed against his chest. "I'm scared…I'm so scared! I don't want to die, Hank! I-don't-want-to-die!" Hank's aged hand laced in his hair, arms tightening as he rocked him like a child. Please-please-please-I'm not ready! I'm scared! Please!

"It's alright, son…It's all going to be alright." Connor cried harder at the comforting words, knuckles white as he gripped the familiar jacket. As he turned his head, he could see the black already eating the other side of the stream. It was how he imagined humans might feel during a horror movie or at those times they thought something was lurking in the shadows. There was no escape. There was nothing he could do. It was too late to stop now.

"H-Hank…" Connor took a final breath, closing his eyes and gripping Hank's jacket. Please, I don't want to die! I don't want to die-I-don't-want-to-die-I-don't-want-to-

Silvery eyes regarded the inactive model, roving over the face that looked so much like his own. It was softer, of course. Weaker. Fairer. The hair was a little lighter, and the eyes were a warm, glittering hazel. Its cheeks were slimmer, and its lips rose in the smallest of smiles, though that may have been part of the desired display pose. Unlike the other models that stood at parade rest, this one had been positioned as if straightening its tie. A curious choice. An alert rose in his HUD, reminding him of his current mission directive. Wait for Detective Reed. It felt like he'd been doing nothing but waiting.

"Phck, would you like at that…" He looked over his shoulder, surprised as a rugged man joined him. His brunette hair was brushed back in what had likely been a neat style earlier in the day. He was slight of build, but strong beneath his loose leather jacket. His dirty green eyes fixed on the RK800 model with something akin to disdain as he stopped and gently kicked the podium. "Figures they'd put one of those damned things here. Phck, this place gives me the creeps." The human visibly shivered as he looked up and down the row of podiums. His unease was understandable. The failed revolution had barely ended two months ago. People weren't ready to trust androids again yet. As he turned, the RK900 got his first proper look at the human's face.

"Detective Reed." He was only slightly older than his photograph. His youth was slowly fading, and scars now littered his once clear skin. It was likely the reason for the neatly trimmed stubble he kept, though nothing could hide the deeper slice across his nose. The RK900 couldn't help being curious about it. It wasn't in Detective Reed's file. Reed scoffed as those inhuman silvery eyes traced the thin pink line, as if committing it to memory. Passing his thumb over the mark was a natural reflex as he looked away, clearly uncomfortable.

"What gave it away?"

"I have your profile on record." The roll of his eyes suggested that had been the wrong answer. Ah…sarcasm. The RK900 recorded that for future reference. There was a certain air of awkwardness between them as Reed shoved his hands in his pockets and eyed the inactive RK800 model one last time. It was almost like he expected it to come to life, however that was impossible. All display models were fully powered down prior to going on display.

"Guess we should…" Reed nodded towards the exit. That was probably for the best. With a slight head tilt, the RK900 let Reed lead the way. He gave a final glance at the RK800, lips thinning in distaste as he turned his back. "What am I supposed to call you, anyway?" he asked as they walked down the gangway.

"My name is Connor."