gotosleep_idiot | September & October Test Drive

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September & October Test Drive

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"It was a couple of days after CyberLife... November 15th," Hank lifted his head and narrowed his eyes. He's pretty sure, anyway, that was the date. He licked his lips and pulled in a breath before he stood and exhaled. He sauntered over to where Connor was at and peeked over his shoulder. "Listen. All you need to know is I'm here, we're fine, ... and where's a good burger place here." He figured anyway. "And stop pissing Nautifuck off, Christ."

The 15th. Not even a week. Not even the full six days. What could have possibly happened in that short of time?

And then the reassurance comes and it....it means a lot.

It Means A Lot

It shouldn't. It should be pretty words in one ear and out the other and mean nothing and instead it makes his chest feel tight. Hurt. It HURTS.

The uniformly cut potatoes suddenly get a misshapen lump and Connor drops the knife because he's shaking. Misplayed cords and cigarettes and shotguns and fondness and-

"I can't be deviant," he said and there is despair in his voice. "I'm supposed to hunt them. Not become one."

Edited 2018-09-25 10:22 (UTC)

Jesus. Hank brought a hand up to settle on Connor’s shoulder. The shaken disposition was a little more than concerning. He didn’t expect Connor to be dealing with this, here, again after having already gone through this at home. Hank then had to remind himself the fact that Connor showed up here before all that, however. Which was, in a way, somewhat comforting for the fact that he knew he was home with Sumo taking care of that ol’ dog. With Connor as well.

It made sense, enough anyway not to have Hank worried sick about what he was missing. Shit, he’s missing it, but not really. Okay, so maybe it didn’t make any goddamned sense, but he knew they were alright. They just had to be alright here too.

“Hey, does that matter here?”

"Of course it does. Its why I was made," Connor said, shaking under Hank's hand. But....

But that wasn't the real problem, was it?

"I'm not alive. I'm not alive and neither are they," he said. Not with the former coolness where he said he was a machine. It sounded more like he was trying to convince himself. "You can't kill what isn't alive."

Its easy to crack when Markus is there, making it a choice between right and genocide, pulling at the threads that had started to fray long before he stepped onto the boat.

Now it was a choice of denial or realizing he's killed innocent people, however indirectly.

Hank’s lips contorted with discomfort. He lowered his hand from Connor’s shoulder and folded his arms. Defenses were rising up all around him. “You didn’t shoot her, Chloe. Explain that.” He then offered as a point, “you’re a sentient being, Connor, you make the choices and you live with the regret, the joy, the comfort, the whatever.” He drew in a breath and grunted before exhaling. “Mistakes, well..” He unfolded one arm and reached for the potato slice that was unlike the others. “This is part of growing, right?” He then popped the potato in his mouth, gave it a few hard crunches before he was able to swallow it.

“Just because someone made you, doesn’t mean they get to dictate your whole life.. shit, kids have been rebelling against their parents since the dawn of time.”

Connor doesn't answer at first. LED swirling a constant red, his eyes trained on a burnt mark on the stove. His mind keeps wandering. Just the other week. He had been human. He had been human because of that storm and nowhere near enough felt foreign.

Far too much felt familiar. Differences in intensity and complexities, but the bulk of it had been so familiar and so much...so much had been based on fears on how Hank saw him. Fears that were apparently very right. Hank was compromised.

But was he wrong to be?

"I think I adopted a child," Connor said. "He....he almost set his house on fire and I had been passing by. I didn't...there was nothing I could do. I couldn't get back home, I couldn't fulfill my objective and I told myself if I left him alone, he'd hurt himself and helping a child is a priority for in general functions and I didn't even ask to stay. I just did and then Connie gave me a key to the place and then the lighthouse appeared and Hector keeps calling me cousin and said he's gonna steal me from Cyberlife for him and Miguel and everyone....everyone keeps saying these things. Saying if I'm here, I'm alive. Keep calling me friend and partner and family and I..."

He's tapping the counter, rambling, because he's been sitting on these thoughts. Keeping them to himself because he shouldn't have them, he shouldn't. He's not supposed to be capable.

But Hank has always treated him like a person, the first person who did, who showed value in him, and the words tumble out because Hank knows where Connor came from, doesn't just assume personhood as literally everyone else in this place seems to. He trusts Hank.

"I don't know what to do if it's true, Hank."

This all seemed rather heavy and Hank felt himself feeling the weight of it. He licked the top of his teeth and swallowed back the taste of the raw potato. He pulled in a breath and held it before he moved his hand to his partner’s back. The truth of the unknown, of having no control, that was what life was all about. Taking it day by day and relinquishing the idea that he had anymore control than what was outside him. Even then, it was hard to accept some of the things he has done. Or has yet to do.

“I don’t have an answer to that…” His hand moved back to Connor’s shoulder and he gently pulled the other to face him. “Hey, but we’ll figure it out as we go.. okay?”

Connor moved with the tug, looking at Hank with a lost look, LED circling between yellow and red. His hand moved up, just gripping the edge of Hank's jacker, just trying to ground himself. Because it was so much. Too much. Its been too much, but despite it all, he can't get himself to not believe Hank. He didn't even know how he came to trust the man so much, probbly lost in all the...

The other emotions that have been wreaking havoc on his system without his acknowledgement.

"I...its....is that really okay? Because if this is true, if I'm...deviating then technically you're supposed to arrest me? You could get in trouble?"

First of all, no. Second of all, hell no. Hank’s brow knits with a focused frown on his face, his cheeks hollowed with the countenance. “Listen.. carefully.. you are free. This world we’re in, additionally, makes both of us even more free..” Hank huffed, his eyes lowered and he thought about all the shit he left behind, all the shit he was dealing with, gods.. he was going to miss Sumo something fierce. He brought his eyes back up to his partner and softly shook his head. “Connor. I don’t know what you got to do to get where you were.. when I last remember.. but I’m gonna be here, and it sounds like you got a lot of other close people around you that’ll support you too.”

Finally, “I’m not going to fucking arrest you, Jesus Christ.”

Considering the popularity of pets as arrival gifts, Hank may not have long to miss Sumo.

Connor has no idea either. He can't see him admitting to it easily. He certainly hasn't so far. Though he frowns at Hank's statement. "You weren't there whennI deviated?" He asked. Because honestly, if he was, he'd have assumed Hank was involved somehow. Even before he came to Nautilus, ge realized he had....some kind of attachment to Hank.

Connor shrugged helplessly. "I don't know how to...deal with this. Any of this. I don't know what to expect and I'm an android and whatever....fondness you have may not counter that enough...." he trailed off, looking away.

“I think it’s not more than just this monumental moment but a lot of things that lead up to it.” Hank sniffed and shifted his feet. “All the shit we went through, all the things you’ll go through, have gone through— back home.. it brought you to make that decision.” He looked over Connor’s face. He was a good boy.

“I’m willing to bet these experiences here are going to do the same.. in the end, you’ll make the decision that’s best for you.” Which, of course to Hank, means Connor turns deviant.

Connor looked at Hank, the expression still worried. A bit scared, but also thoughtful.

Kind. Painfully kind. Despite the rough outside, he's still so surprised just how kind Hank can be. Something he hadn't lost even when Nautilus made Connor believe their roles were switched.

"Are we friends?" He suddenly asked. Because there is a...desire. Yes, its probably a desire to have a relationship that wasn't just them working together.

Hank cleared his throat, his expression was almost nearing disbelief before it softened and he pulled Connor into a hug. He kept him there for a while as he thought about the shit they'd gone through and the shit they're going to be going through here. Hell yeah, they're friends, but they're more than that. So much more. It just was too painful, too real to say at this moment. Even if he did say it, would Connor believe it?

Oh.

It was another hug. He was still surprised by these. He hesitantly returns it, stiff amd awkward. More so than at the Chicken Feed. There's still red barriers, questioning what's the point, how does this help the mission. Things that make it hard to embrace emotions.

But he ignores them and closes his eyes and let's himself just...savor this feeling. Maybe...maybe it was okay.

Well, Hank sure felt better. He gave Connor's back a soft pat then he stepped back. His hands lingered on Connor's shoulders and he gave the other a long look before he detached.

"So, ... what, you piss this world off for a short cut home, or what? What is the story here?" He found himself leaning more toward humor again than the sappy shit.

Connor was looking calmer now. His LED is blue, at least, though yellow keeps flickering in. It was always something with Hank, how his reassurance had a tendency to quiet the worst of Connor's internal panic.

"People can ascend here. To ascend requires change, which I told Nautilus an android can't do. He disagreed. There's a bit more to it, but it takes also understanding bending. Did you have questions about that?" Connor asked, picking up the knife to continue cooking. It helped to keep his hands busy.

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September & October Test Drive

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