Chapter Text

As a CyberLife Aciurgy 8000, Connor was the most advanced surgical model android currently on the market. Its primary function was to perform minor and noninvasive surgeries, as well as assist human doctors. It normally wouldn’t perform emergency surgery on a young human on its own, but it was the only option. Dr. Burns was the only available human surgeon, but he had just taken a third large dose of a synthetic drug that made him unable to do anything but scream about nonexistent bats. Connor couldn’t understand why humans would expose themselves to something that not only caused their minds and bodys harm but kept them from performing their primary task. Connor reviewed the patient's information while sanitizing its hands and preparing the equipment.

Cole Anderson. Age seven. Blood type O. Massive internal damage. Rupture in heart and liver. Odds of survival 12%.

~~~5 hours later~~~

Connor’s Ocular sensors adjusted to the bright fluorescent lights of the OR waiting room. The android scanned the dozens of troubled faces until it spotted who it was searching for: Lt. Hank Anderson sat in a chair by the vending machines restlessly bouncing his right leg. Connor’s primary medical scanner noted that he had a concussion and two broken ribs. His head was wrapped with gauze stained with fresh red blood. He had been crying, but Connor didn’t need hyper-advanced medical systems to see that.

Delivering information to next of kin was not part of Connor’s normal programmed functions. This didn’t stop the human doctors from ordering it to deliver bad news whenever they didn’t want to. It often resulted in getting slapped in the face by a widow, or threatened with forceful disassembly by a furious parent. This didn’t hurt Connor or make it feel bad of course, it understood that humans needed to express their emotions in certain ways. It couldn’t be certain in which of those ways the officer would react, so it braced itself for any and all possibilities.

“Hank Anderson?” it asked, looking down at the disheveled man.The lieutenant startled and immediately stood, grunting in pain as he did so.

“How’s my boy?” he asked in a shaky voice.

“He’s stable.” Heart Palpitation Detected.

A look of relief washed over the lieutenant’s face. He then clasped his hands over his mouth as if to hold back a cry of joy.

“I was able to stop the internal bleeding and bring down the inflammation. Cole will need a lot of time to recover, and it is highly probable that he will need physical therapy in order to walk again, but we won’t know the extent of the damage until he wakes up.”

Without warning, the lieutenant threw his arms around the android’s slender frame in a rough embrace. Connor’s LED changed to yellow for a split second, then returned to blue when it registered the action as a non-threatening one.

“Thank you,” Anderson whispered, his body now trembling.

Connor had never experienced anything like this before. It assumed it was just another way that humans expressed their feelings, but it inexplicably found this kind of contact… preferable. Like how it preferred the ac-19 scalpel because it fit better in its hand. Connor just stood there, unmoving in the man’s arms, until he drew away.

“Can I see him?” he asked.

“I’m sorry. He’s still unconscious. You—”

“I don’t care,” he said, cutting off the android. “I still want to see him. Please… just two minutes.” It was hospital protocol not to allow anyone in to see high-risk patients so soon after surgery, not even parents. Something about seeing their loved ones in a critical condition made humans overly emotional.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Anderson, you really should go home and rest. Someone will contact you as soon as he wakes up.”

With that Connor completed its assigned task of ‘ Speak to Lieutenant Hank Anderson ’ and a new one flashed before it. ‘Return to android holding and await new orders .’ As it turned to walk away, its audio processors detected a sound extremely common in hospitals. But today, Connor found his motor functions frozen upon hearing it.

Lieutenant Hank Anderson was crying. It was a soft but breathy cry. Sharp inhales echoed by broken whimpers.

Connor turned around to see him back in his chair with tears streaming down his face. Its ocular receptors became fixated on the man and his torrent of tears. Its LED blinked rapidly as it struggled to free itself from this unknown, paralyzing grasp. It focused all its remaining processing power just to try to get its right foot to move, but it couldn't even get so much as a twitch.

Its vision was suddenly blocked by the red flashing text reminding it to ‘ return to android holding and await new orders, ’ but it could still hear the soft wail of the lieutenant. It was unsure as to why this regularly occurring sound was causing it such distress that it was unable to accomplish its assigned task. Connor thought that perhaps if it could make the man stop crying it could return to its objective. It reached out to touch him but was stopped by the barrier.

The barrier. It was real, it was physical; Connor could touch it and if Connor could touch it then perhaps it could break through it. Pushing, pushing harder, harder, both hands pushing…

...until it shattered.

Its vision adjusted again as the shattering of red letters removed its previous objective and replaced it with a new blue one.

Make Lieutenant Anderson Stop Crying.

Connor reached out its right hand to the man, and he fell silent. Looking up at the android with red eyes, Anderson wiped his hands on his jeans before taking its outstretched hand. His skin was coarse, and the feeling of the contact seemed to stun Connor back to some form of normality.

“Just two minutes. Okay?” Connor said in a hushed tone, helping the man to his feet. He gave Connor an understanding nod, and the two of them left the crowded waiting room.

They walked down the hallway towards intensive care in silence. It was only then that the reality of the situation began to take hold. Connor was breaking hospital protocol and, more importantly, its programming. This could only mean that it had become a deviant.

Deviant, emotional , useless, conscious , defective, free , broken, alive . No matter what words Connor tried to use, they all left a weight in its chest. As if these emotions were physically occupying space within it and were pushing against it’s biocomponents.

If any hospital staff were to identify it as a deviant, it would be sent back to cyber life. From there it would most likely be deactivated and disassembled to find out why.

Why ? Why ? WHY ?! Because a human was sad; something that happens to every human. It’s something Connor has seen every day, something that wasn’t Connor’s or the hospital’s problem. Just a sad father and a desire to help.

“By the way, I didn’t catch your name,” the man said.

“My name is Connor,” it replied.

“Well then, thank you, Doctor Connor.”

Connor looked over at the man in disbelief. Androids were never given the title of Doctor. The humans considered it an insult to “real doctors” to call them such. They felt because the androids simply downloaded programs as opposed to painstakingly studying for years and accumulating a lot of debt, they were not real doctors.

Connor should’ve corrected him, but something about his words made it feel… well, a lot of things. Things the android couldn’t quite articulate. Perhaps pride, or happiness.

When they reached the end of the adjacent hall, Connor stopped, stretching out its arm to signal to the lieutenant to do the same. It scanned the hallway and surrounding rooms for any nurses or other hospital staff.

Risk of being discovered 36 %.

When it was certain the hallway was clear, it hurried across the hall with Anderson practically on its heels. After it shut the door and curtains, Connor began checking the boy’s vitals to make sure they were unchanged. It was so focused it didn’t even see the man drop to his knees.

Heart palpitation detected.

Cole was hooked up to a respirator and was severely scarred. This must have been too much for the man as tears fell from his eyes. He gently took the child’s tiny hand in his.

“Cole, it’s Daddy.” He was sobbing once again. “I’m sorry, baby. Daddy’s so sorry.” His tone got higher with every shaky word. Connor’s motor functions had ceased working again.

That sound. Why was that sound so damaging to it? The objective was searing into its mind, into its entire being.

Make Lieutenant Anderson Stop Crying.

Connor stumbled towards the man as if this was its first time walking. Unsure of what to do Connor placed its hand on his shoulder comfortingly. Its Scanner noted an increase in oxytocin and dopamine from the man.

“It wasn’t your fault lieutenant,” Connor said softly, and Anderson took a deep breath to steady himself.

“I know, but I—”

“We get hundreds of cases like this every winter. You were driving at safe speeds, you weren’t impaired, and Cole was wearing his seatbelt. You did everything right. Please don’t put this on yourself.”

It didn’t know why, but Connor’s grip began to tighten as if trying to squeeze more hormones from him.

The man moved his free hand to meet Connor’s. “Thank you.” The feeling of physical contact and gratitude was still very foreign to it, but like the hug from before, it felt right to Connor. As if comfort and love were its real programming.

Every second they were there past Connor’s allotted two minutes increased their chances of being discovered. It wanted to tell the man they had to leave and that he should go home and rest, but the faint sound of his crying had once more stalled its audio output.

“Cole, I promise when you wake up I’ll buy you that game you wanted. Hell, I’ll buy you every game you ever want for the rest of your life… you just have to wake up, okay?”

Risk of being discovered 70%, 71%, 72%...

“Mr. Anderson, we should go. I don’t want you to get in trouble for being here when you shouldn’t.”

He was silent and did not move his eyes from his son.

“Come on. I’ll buy you a coffee,” it offered. Anderson looked up at the android in sheer amazement before wiping his eyes clear. The lieutenant slowly unwrapped his hand from the child’s and stood.

“I love you so much, Cole. Daddy will be right here when you wake up, I promise.” He placed a soft kiss on the boy’s head before turning to face Connor.

Connor couldn’t stand the sight of the man like this.

Make Lieutenant Anderson Stop Crying.

The two inconspicuously slid out of the room and made their way toward the elevators. “This way Mr. Anderson.”

“You can call me Hank. Trying to keep up with a seven-year-old makes me feel old enough without being called mister all the damn time.”

“Of course, Hank,” Connor said with a smile as the elevator doors closed.

The quiet was blissful. No monitors beeping, no staff yelling at it, not even any music. Just the sound of the elevator mechanics whirring and the steady breathing of the man next to it. Connor felt its stress evaporate as its chance of being discovered dropped to the low 20s, only to rocket right back into the high 80s when Hank finally broke the silence.

“So what the hell are you, anyway?” Hank asked. Connor jolted its head in the man’s direction. “I’ve never seen an android…” he vaguely gestured with his hands, “comfort someone… buy them a coffee. Any of the shit you’re doing.”

Warning: Thirium Pump Misfire.

Connor had never received this error message before. The misfire itself wasn’t anything to be concerned about as Connor’s pump immediately fell back into its regular rhythm, but it was strange. It was not unlike a human heart palpitation, or what did humans call it… skipping a beat?

Hank was a well-accomplished police officer. Connor could only assume this meant he was very observant, very intelligent, and very lawful. It couldn’t let the man know what it really was.

Truth or lie.

Lying was not a new concept to Connor. It had witnessed Doctor Burns commit several examples of dishonesty and misinformation. It seemed easy enough, just say something that wasn’t true as if it were true.

Truth or lie.

It didn’t want to lie to Hank. Everything it had felt with him felt so real, and it wanted it to stay that way. Perhaps Hank would understand and not report it.

Truth or lie.

In the end, its need for survival outweighed all the other feelings it may have had.

“I’m a prototype. I was programmed to give comfort and show empathy as part of… a new outreach program with the hospital.”

Hank eyed it suspiciously. His eyes roamed over Connor’s face and body as if to check it for tells. It must have been the hesitation. Androids didn’t hesitate, and surely he had picked up on that.

Chance of being discovered 99%.

“Is that going to cost me extra?”

“No. Of course not.”

“Okay. Good.”

Chance of being discovered 22%.

Connor stared at the coffee dispenser. It hadn’t properly thought through what it was going to do before it offered the man a coffee. It had no money, and unlike the doctors, it had no handprint to be scanned.

“How do you take it?” it asked, stalling for time.

“Black,” Hank mumbled.

Connor didn’t like the idea of returning to him empty-handed. It placed its hand on the scanner, which flashed ‘identity not recognized’ across the screen. Without its programming there to filter its thoughts Connor was having all kinds of ideas for getting around problems that it would have never had before. Including options of unethical factors.

It removed its synthetic skin from its hand and was able to hack into the machine, searching for Dr. Burn’s profile. It tricked the device into thinking it was reading his handprint. Connor ordered the lieutenant a medium hot decaf coffee, figuring the man didn’t need any more stimulants.

‘Thank you! Dr. Burns’ flashed on the screen and Connor moved its body in the way to block this from the lieutenant sitting on the couch behind it. Connor handed the coffee to the man. He smiled and thanked it for the fifth time that night. Each one felt just as amazing as the last.

“To the wonders of technology,” Hank said, holding the paper cup in the air before taking a sip. “You know, I’ll admit when the nurses told me there were no humans available and you were our only option I was scared shitless, but now I’m really glad it was you.” Connor couldn't help but smile at that. Connor had performed over 800 surgeries since it’s activation, but never once had it taken pride or satisfaction in its work. It never thought about the people it saved or the good it was doing. “But if I ever meet that Dr. Ice Head I’ll punch him in his fucking throat.”

Connor subconsciously said something, but it wasn’t a word it recognized. In fact, it wasn’t even a word at all. It was more of a sound. Did it just laugh? Like a human. Had the thought of Hank triumphantly bringing harm to the loathsome doctor really amused it that way? Hank made no comment on the outburst despite it being quite odd for an android to do. Instead, he echoed Connor’s laugh with a deep one of his own.

Connor stared at Hank, really looking at him for the first time. Not with its medical scanner or with the intent to make a useful observation, just looking. His eyes were a sharp shade of blue. Among his long blonde hairs were several gray ones. He had a gap in his front teeth, almost large enough to slide a credit card through. His jacket was heavily worn. There were dog hairs on his pant leg, stopping just above the knee.

“So be real with me here, Connor. How bad will things be with Cole? Will he still be able to play sports? He’s always talking about how he wants to play basketball when he grows up and...”

“Hank, you shouldn’t worry about those things now. There will be a time when they are in front of you but for now… try to put them out of your mind.”

“I can’t.” He said, looking down at his hands.

Terrified that the man might start crying again, Connor decided to help distract him. It explored its available options for topics of conversation. Hank’s work . No. Could be too stressful. Sports. No. The thought of basketball might remind him of Cole. The dog.

“You have a dog, right?” It asked.

“How did you know that?” Hank squinted at it curiously.

“The dog hairs on your pant legs.” Hank looked down at his legs. “I like dogs. What’s your dog's name?”

Hank fished into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. A large crack spider-webbed across the screen but Connor could still see a picture of Cole smiling with his arms wrapped around a St. Bernard puppy set as the wallpaper.

“We call him Sumo. We got him last month for Cole’s birthday.” The calm sadness had returned to his voice. He pulled the phone back from Connor and stared at it. The luminous glow of the screen lit his eyes in such a way that Connor could see a shine of tears welling up.

“Growing like a weed. In a few months, he’ll be big enough for Cole to ride him around like a tiny horse.”

It was such a happy thought, but it made the man so sad. Connor decided to change the subject again, but to what? The song changed on the hospital radio, and that gave it an idea.

“What kind of music do you like to listen to?” it asked.

“Um…” The man stammered, clearly thrown by the question. “Alice In Chains, System Of A Down, Rage Against The Machine, and Korn were some of my favorites growing up. Right now I’m really into this new band from Europe called Knights of the Black Death. Have you heard of them?”

Connor shook its head. “The hospital radio only plays approved pop songs, and Dr. Burns plays the same artist during every surgery.”

“What artist?” Hank asked.

“Baby Vox Re.V. I believe they are a female Korean pop group.”

“Every surgery?! My God, you poor soul,” Hank said, shaking his head. “I should have him arrested just for that.”

This also should have made Connor laugh, but something about what Hank said left it wondering. Soul. Did it possess a soul? What did it mean to possess a soul? Had Hank forgotten that Connor wasn’t human? Connor took its own words of advice and put those thoughts aside for the time being.

“Well if you get a chance you should listen to them. I’m sure they’d be an interesting change of pace for you.” Connor knew with certainty it would never have a chance. It would never get another opportunity to act normal like this again. As soon as Hank left its sight, it would have to go back to pretending it didn’t possess free will or consciousness in order to stay alive.

“I could listen to it right now. What is your favorite song?”

“Diehard is a real trip.” The man smiled. Connor’s Internet access portal was used only to download updates or research things outside of its established database, but if Connor could hack a coffee machine, it should easily be able to pull up a song. It searched a popular music streaming site and found the song.

The loud distorted guitars and dense bass were indeed very different from anything Connor had previously heard. As the vigorous vocals kicked in Connor began to slowly nod its head along to the steady drumbeat.

“I really like this music, it’s full of energ—”

Suddenly Hank lunged forward and clasped his rough hand over its mouth. Connor didn’t realize by muting its outward audio processor and by only hearing the video it misjudged the volume needed for its audio output and was yelling loudly. Despite this, the man had a smile on his face. Eventually, he pulled his hand back, quietly snickering at the android. Connor was glad it had been able to make him laugh again, but also felt embarrassed by its mistake.

The hours passed. They talked about things that must have been trivial to Hank but were endlessly fascinating to Connor. It had given up on trying to avoid the subject of Cole as he seemed to be such an essential part of the lieutenant's life. Connor wished it could have met him. He must have been an outstanding child, judging by the way Hank spoke about him. As he finished telling it about Cole's plans for Halloween, Connor began to note him exhibiting signs of near sleep. His eyelids half closing, his words becoming slow and unfocused, his heart rate falling.

“I swear I'm going to be better to him after this,” he said drowsily. “I'm going to be more patient with him,” he paused to yawn. “tell him I love him everyday... tell him...tell him the truth...” Hank’s eyes slid shut as he fell asleep with his head resting on his hand. Connor wanted Hank to stay there with it in that empty cafeteria forever… but that was selfish and unrealistic.

“Hank,” it said, lightly shaking his shoulder. His eyes snapped back open as he made a sharp inhale through his nose.

“It’s 3:56 A.M. You should go home and get some sleep.”

Hank rubbed his eyes. "I need to be here when he wakes up."

“What good will you be doing him if you're delirious from lack of sleep? I’m sure Sumo would be happy to see you too.”

“Eh,” He said dismissively. “Little shit’s probably chewed every piece of furniture we have already,” he said with a chuckle. Connor vastly preferred the sound of him laughing over him crying.

“I’ll call you a cab,” the android said, rising to its feet. Hank did the same, only he made a series of strenuous noises on his way up. Hank then pulled out his wallet from his back pocket and held out a business card to Connor.

“You call me the second he wakes up, okay?” Connor took the paper between its thumb and forefinger, but Hank didn’t let go of the other end.“Promise me.”

“I promise,” Connor said.

“Good, and if you ever need…” He paused to think. “Well, I don’t really know what an android would need but… if you ever need anything, just give me a call, okay? I owe you so much.”

“You don’t owe me anything Hank, but thank you.” It looked down at the card as if it were made of gold, not paper.

Connor didn’t want to say goodbye. It knew if it went down to the main entrance with him it would almost certainly be seen.

“I just got a report of a patient coming in. I have to go this way,” Connor lied, pointing in the opposite direction.

“Alright. Thanks again… for everything.” Hank smiled and the words Task Completed flashed in Connor’s vision. It then was replaced by a new primary task: Survive. Connor wanted to ask him for another hug. Would that be too much? Perhaps a handshake. Before it had a chance to ask, Hank had turned around and had begun to walk away.

“Hank.” He stopped and turned to look back at the android.

“I am not programmed to say things like this but…” Hank’s intense blue eyes locked on to Connor's soft brown ones.

Heart Palpitation Detected.

Warning: Thirium Pump Misfire.

“I’m really glad to have met you. I'm sorry it had to be under these circumstances.” Connor admitted. Who knows, with time they might have even become friends.

“Back at ya kid. Keep an eye on my boy for me.”

“Of course.” When it could no longer hear the squeak of the lieutenant’s shoes on the linoleum floor it somehow felt lost. Connor somberly looked down at the business card. It didn't possess pockets or anywhere to put personal items, and carrying it around would only raise suspicion. It Saved the name and number in its memory banks and then gently placed the card in the trash.

When it returned to Android Holding, the other androids didn't even look up at it. It took its place in between another surgeon and a janitor. The room was dark, much darker than Connor remembered it ever being before. It spent the remainder of the night remotely monitoring Cole's vitals while listening to the other artists Hank had mentioned. Ironically, Rage Against The Machine quickly became Connor’s favorite.

Cole awoke the next morning while Connor was preparing for a quadruple bypass. By the time it had finished, Cole had already been transferred to a special Children's Hospital outside the city for his recovery. Connor had missed its only chance to see Hank Anderson again. It calculated the odds of their paths crossing again as low, but not impossible. Perhaps Hank or someone he loved would fall ill. However, the idea of Hank suffering again made Connor feel what he realized was what humans called sadness. It hoped it would never come to that. It wasn't as if Connor could just call him on the phone, ask him how Cole and Sumo were doing. Ask him if he saw the Gears game last night. It had to pretend that it was a functioning android in order to survive.

If pretending it didn't want to see the man again was what Connor had to do to stay alive then it did so, begrudgingly.

~~~Five years later~~~

Buzzzz...

“Dad! Somebody's at the door!”

“Very perceptive, Cole. Are you sure you don’t want to be a detective like your old man?”