systolicarray | ://i have no heart

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://i have no heart

[ it's dark. his internal chronometer reads 9:45pm. it had taken less than an hour to wrap up the hostage situation, and he'd left almost immediately after to catch a cab back to the cyberlife tower.

the reason why he's currently standing on a curb, under the harsh glare of a street lamp, is obvious without words: the cab parked nearby, smoking under the hood, is the culprit. he had called a second cab fifteen minutes ago, but had been warned that it might arrive late. there was currently high traffic congestion in this part of the city, and several cabs were stuck in the backup of vehicles. this was partially due to the streets around the phillips' apartment building being blocked off for several hours.

a moth had broken free from the allure of the street lamp to orbit around his head— it bumped into his LED twice, attracted by the glow. connor stepped sideways, and it followed him.

he waited for his cab to arrive. he didn't didn't think about daniel, or emma. he waited. ]

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( Hank relaxes his hands. He turns his eyes to Connor, and he holds his breath. He swallows. He can still feel the tension in his shoulders. He tries to focus on Connor's words, but all he can see is the SWAT team's disservice toward Connor. He can feel his heartbeat on the side of his neck, and the anger was still evident in his expression. )

They sent you in there as bait. They had no regard for you at all.

I'm an android, Lieutenant. Not that I need to remind you— But they weren't required to have any regard for me.

[ he keeps telling himself that the reason the lieutenant is acting this way is because he's seeing humanity where there isn't any, but is that really true? or is it something else? ]

You don't even like androids. You said so yourself.

Shut up! ( Hank keeps himself from saying anything else right after that. He turns his head, and his fists clench again. He closes his eyes, and he shakes his head. Still, all he could think about was the careless, reckless way in which Connor was handled and allowed himself to be handled.

He reflects on the parts that were coming. Would Connor get patched up only to put himself in danger again? Hank opens his eyes and turns his attention back to Connor. )

You're... You aren't replaceable.

[ connor does, although it's probably only because there's nothing he can say. it's impossible for him to trace hank's motivations, not only because he doesn't know them well enough, but because he doesn't have the capacity to understand. he wasn't programmed with this in mind, not really— he was meant to be easy to get along with, yes, he was meant to integrate into any team. to be anything anyone might want him to be.

but what could he possibly represent for someone like lieutenant hank anderson?

he places his hand on his arm again. ]

I don't understand why you feel this way, but I believe that you do. And as I currently have no instructions, and you're technically my superior, you have the authority to order me as you see fit.

( Connor's words break apart the distress. Hank's eyes fixate on Connor's expression. He raises his hand to hold over Connor's. ) It wasn't right, what they did to you, it wasn't right.

I know you don't understand, I ... Just need you to know it wasn't right.

... Okay.

[ connor looks lost, staring into hank's eyes, but maybe it's only hank's own distress being reflected back at him. his irises are dark in the half-light of early morning, his still damp hair curling where it falls across his forehead. his fingers squeeze where the lieutenant holds his hand, and he wonders at the unlikelihood of this situation.

but if there's one thing he knows with absolute certainty, it's that without the lieutenant, he wouldn't have been rescued. the thought causes a memory to surface. his eyebrow twitches toward his hairline, and he leans forward like he's about to share a secret. ]

I think in this situation, calling you my 'knight in shining armor' would be much more applicable.

( Hank's lips part. His breath catches in his throat with a second of silence before he connects the comment with their first conversation. He huffs. With his next breath, Hank tries to release some of the anger he feels. It's no good getting upset now with Connor. He might as well wait until he's in front of the asshole who made the call. )

Yeah, well... I'll keep a better eye on you from now on.

I'm certain you will.

[ even though they hardly know each other, and he's only an android... well, it's clear to see that hank is determined. it would probably take a lot to make him rescind any of the decisions he's made this morning, no matter how inadvisable they may be.

if he were capable of feeling guilty, he might feel a twinge for taking advantage of his good will. but his good will means his survival. and he has to survive, because...

because... ]

Lieutenant, could I ask you another favor?

( Hank nods. His eyes remain on Connor's face, his hand lingers on top of the brunette's. He wonders what it is that Connor could want, what else he needs. However, he can already see himself obliging the request as he feels an eagerness to do for Connor. )

[ connor doesn't remove his hand from where it's placed, nor does he lean away before he asks his request. ]

I need you to check my body to make sure there isn't any damage that hasn't registered in my error log. I assume you have some experience with giving first aid in emergency situations?

( Hank looks over Connor's face. His teeth clench, and he can feel the pressure of his lips nearly frowning. First aid has got fuck all to do with androids, that much he's sure of. But he could do his best. )

Okay, I'll look.

I know it's not the same, but aside from the differences between human organs and android bio-components, the layout of our bodies is similar.

[ he's only guessing that hank's tension comes from his self-doubt where androids are concerned, but he has a feeling that he's right. still, he extends his hand to hank for him to take, as though to use it as an example. ]

My skeleton, muscle, and skin may not be made of the same materials as yours, but everything important is constructed in the same way.

[ connor pauses to look down at himself. ]

I'm most concerned about my side, where that tear is. My ribs might be broken.

Your ribs. ( It doesn't sound like a question, but the look on Hank's face says otherwise. Hank takes Connor's hand in his own, then turns toward the brunette. He pulls in a heavy breath, which broadens his shoulders and fills his chest. He deflates by the time he looks down at Connor's chest. )

Okay... ( He leans toward Connor and with his free hand he reaches for Connor's shirt. ) Show me.

[ connor nods in assurance before retrieving his hand from hank's grasp to lift the shirt up over his thin chest. the tear in the plastic circles around from just below his armpit, where his right arm is missing, to a few inches below his ribcage. through the wound, both faintly glowing artificial muscle fiber and blue, flickering circuitry can be seen. ]

It's all right if you touch it. It doesn't hurt.

Yeah... Okay. ( Hank's not sure if it'll hurt him, however, if he does poke his fingers inside of Connor. He takes another deep breath. He moves his fingertips down Connor's side. He was feeling for any scratches or imperfections on the smooth flesh. He stops his fingers at Connor's hips then traces the stretch of flesh back up to the tear. He cocks his head. )

How are... we going to fix this?

I'll replace the panel and the wires that were severed. Once I have two hands to work with, it shouldn't be a difficult job.

[ his eyes trail hank's fingers as they make their way up and down the length of his body. gooseflesh raises the tiny, synthetic hairs beneath his warm fingertips, an involuntary reaction programmed for the sake of realism. connor licks his lips. ]

It's nothing major.

Oh, sure... you've got gashes, holes, missing limbs, nothing major.

( Hank moves his fingers down from the gash on Connor's side, to across the flesh and toward Connor's chest. He feels for broken ribs, but he doesn't think he's all too masterful in this endeavor. He figures Connor will have to do another thorough exam, but at least he's able to give Connor some assistance - even if it was shit assistance. )

I don't know what I'm fucking doing.

Does anything feel loose or out of place?

[ nothing's loose enough to move beneath hank's hands, which is a good sign. his internal sensors were probably right when they hadn't reported any other damage. but in this situation, he has no choice but to be careful.

he can't count on cyberlife right now. ]

If you're not confident, I suppose I could just have you look...

I am looking. ( Hank moves his other hand on Connor. He uses both to feel at Connor's ribs, beneath his chest. He massages his fingers toward the center of Connor's torso, down the rippled slope of the ribs beneath the skin. It was ... strange, to say the least, how much like a human Connor felt beneath his touch. )

I mean, I can turn down the opacity of the plastic so you can see inside.

[ it was a useful diagnostic tool, although there's something undeniably satisfying about taking this more physical approach to the problem. he breathes in with his artificial lungs so his chest expands beneath the touch, but each rib stays firmly where it's meant to be. ]

I'll need you to check my back, too.

( Hank straightened, his fingers fell to his lap. He cocks his head and looks down to Connor's torso, his lips part with a breath. The expression on his face was obvious to his disbelief. The fuck do I know about goddamn androids? )

Okay, do you want a mirror so you can see too?

No, I don't think that's going be necessary. Your assessment will be good enough, Lieutenant.

[ feeling strangely, bizarrely cold without the warmth of those hands on his body, connor allows his artificial skin to disappear from the throat down. the opaque white écorché revealed, the plastic shifts in color until it's complete transparent. beneath it, the network of muscle fibers emit a faint light where they wrap around the dark metal that makes up his skeletal structure; the biocomponents that stand for the primary characteristics of android biology are brighter, thirum glowing brilliantly as it rushes through his body. something just to the right of his navel glows red, although it's somewhat hard to see behind the tangle of tubes and wires.

but aside from that— and the tear in his side— nothing looks broken or damaged. his thirium pump beats with a steady, confident rhythm. ]

( The confidence in him was so misplaced that Hank didn't even feel flattered. He felt out of his realm, completely in over his head with being depended on in this way. He moves his nearest hand back to Connor's stomach, touching at the flesh that has become translucent. It was so damn clear that he was expecting his hand to run into the mechanics inside of Connor's body. )

Jesus Christ.

( The blue thirium was an attractive color. The liquid threaded through Connor's body in a series of tubes, of veins. The red hue was a contrast to the blue and Hank lowered his hand to cover over the place where the red glowed. )

Is it supposed to be red?

No; my filtration system is damaged. But it shouldn't cause any issues before the replacement part gets here.

[ he stares at hank's hand on his stomach, at the way the light illuminates his fingers in that unearthly red. his plastic skin, transparent though it was, feels no different than it did before. there's a slickness to the surface, but the material is malleable, the same general consistency of the adipose deposits on a human's body.

connor quirks his head. in the momentary silence, his body's inner workings are almost audible. well, he can hear it, of course, that soft rushing sound, the faint beating so much like a heart— his ears are very sensitive. but he doesn't know if the lieutenant can. ]

To be honest, this is a positive outcome. If that wound had been deeper, or more biocomponents had failed, I wouldn't have survived long enough to crawl into the street.

( Hank pulls a breath in and holds it. He moves his hand off of Connor and settles it on his own thigh. He continues to look inside of Connor. Hank can't see anything immediately out of place. Yet, again, he wasn't sure what to look for inside of Connor's torso. )

Do you feel anything?

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