systolicarray | ://the billboard said "the end is near"

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://the billboard said "the end is near"

[ if he had taken the time to imagine how this body might be destroyed (and he had, occasionally) the highest prospect on the list would have been workplace incident. he was at risk for being shot, stabbed, or otherwise injured on a day to day basis. his body had been destroyed once before, and nearly several times after. he had fallen from a skyrise, he had been shot, he'd had essential parts removed with the intention to kill.

this danger was so commonplace he hardly thought about it, although he worried from time to time what hank would do if something happened to him. even now that he had deviated and was living a life of his choosing, it was simply the way things had to be. he enjoyed his career. he was proud of what he did.

so, when that isn't how it happens, he's surprised—

he's laughing at something hank's said just as the self-driving car riding next to them slips on the icy road. it clips the car. the car struggles to compensate and swerves in a long sideways arc, which ends when it smashes into the concrete embankment.

it's over in an instant.

connor is dead before the EMS arrive. ]

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[ connor watches hank the entire time, making note of the expressions that pass over his face, the sounds he makes in his sleep, the rate of his heartbeat and breathing. there's never anything concerning, never any reason to call for the nurse. but that's not a surprise. hank was in here for superficial damage. lacerations to his hands. connor didn't know how he had gotten them, only that they'd been obtained after the accident.

still, he had recently been in a car accident.

when hank wakes, connor smiles. ]

Lieutenant. Good afternoon.

No... no..

( This wasn't right, Connor was... Connor couldn't be here. He had lost Connor, in... in the accident. Hank closes his eyes for a long moment. He almost convinces himself not to open them again, but he can't ignore the desperate hope that Connor was here. His light-blue eyes fix on Connor once again. He's perfect; there's not a scratch on him. It makes him question whether Connor was in the accident with him or if Hank had imagined it. Had he lost Connor? He did.

He lost Connor in the accident. So, who... )

Who.. who are you?

You know who I am, Lieutenant. I'm Connor. The android sent by— Well, I was sent by CyberLife this time. They uploaded my memory into a new model. My predecessor...

[ it probably wouldn't help to call attention to what had happened to him. he remembered the wreck, he remembered what he had done and why he had died. there had been a rather high likelihood that he would die either way, but by prioritizing hank's life over his own, he assured it.

but he also gave hank much better odds, as a result.

connor's expression softens. ]

I'm sorry.

Edited 2020-12-03 23:53 (UTC)

( Hank frowns, that same fucking speech - almost, but it might as well be. My predecessor... Hank wonders just what the hell he's meant to do with that information? Then... Then Connor apologizes, and a sense of grief begins to spill from his eyes. It came so suddenly that he didn't realize what was causing his sight to go blurry again until several tears moistened his face, his beard. His chest hurt, from heartache, from loss, nothing that could be picked up by the scanners. After several minutes of sobbing, he, once again, denies Connor. )

No, no... you're not.

[ connor watches hank cry, overcome by the significance of the distance between them. something inside of him clamors to reach out, but his presence here already feels invasive. either way, whatever it was that was inside of him before, that would have driven him to climb onto the bed and offer whatever comfort he could possibly give, is... missing. so he folds his hands together and stares at the white tile floor after some minutes have passed. when hank finds his voice, thick with grief though it is, he raises his head again. ]

I'm still Connor.

[ brows creased, he stands from his seat. after hesitating, he sits on the edge of the hospital bed. ]

What happened? You were released from the hospital. How did you get hurt again?

( Hank wants to believe Connor was still Connor, but what about... what about everything they've been through, all the memories, every piece of the journey they've experienced, was that all still inside of Connor? Hank wants to accept Connor, he wants to believe Connor is here, and the mangled up body in his car was just a fear, something he imagined, but... it was too late, he saw it, he saw him... he saw Connor, crunched inside the wreckage.

He lifts his hands, only slightly, before he lowers them again. He tries to explain, his voice was still raspy, sad, and heavy with emotion. )

Your body... I... I need to ... to get your ... your body...

I can have something arranged to have it recovered.

[ the car must be in the junkyard, and his body there with it. it was a shame it hadn't been recovered, considering the technology involved, but that was how these things happened. androids weren't considered any more than garbage once they were destroyed, even now.

it occurred to him to wonder what markus would think of what had happened. ]

When you're released from the hospital, am I coming home with you? Or would you rather I returned to the precinct?

No!

( Hank was quick to reject Connor's resolve to retrieve his predecessor's body. His heart about sank to his gut, with the thought of the new Connor handling Connor's body. It felt like that would have been disrespectful, somehow - though he couldn't quite put his finger on it. All he knew was that he had to get his partner. He needed... I need you to need me to love you.... Hank calmed after his quick response, then thought about Connor's question.

Where did Connor belong? Where would he go? Hank couldn't stand the idea of Connor anywhere out of sight, really, even if Connor...

He tries to push his emotions aside, and he looks again to Connor. He's quiet while he traces over the brunette's face. Everything about him makes Hank want to see Connor... but... How could he simply just move on? )

Stay.

Stay with me.

[ connor's eyes widen, but he doesn't seem especially surprised by the strength of the reaction. more likely hank was planning to collect whatever tools were required so he could return to the junkyard and retrieve connor's body himself.

he intended to be there, to offer whatever help was needed. and to be certain that hank didn't land himself in the hospital for a third time.

hank looks at him for a long time. connor finds himself wondering what he sees. he has the urge to find a mirror and look into it, but he's certain it won't help. something in his expression softens again when hank relents, and he wonders if he's relieved at the answer. he's not sure he would have listened, even if he had told him to return to the precinct— or to cyberlife.

but he doesn't really know, after all. his memories are all secondhand. ]

Okay.

May I ask you a personal question, Lieutenant?

( Why does he call him ... Lieutenant? Another reminder that this wasn't his partner, this was Connor, the new Connor, not his partner, not the intimate piece that waited in the junkyard for him. Fresh tears began to stream down his face. He can't look at Connor anymore. )

What?

I... just wanted to know how you hurt your hands...

[ what has he done this time? it tugs at something inside of him. something he knows he shouldn't have but has anyway. there wasn't much left in him to be conflicted about deviancy; he'd come to his conclusions long ago. it was only cyberlife's programming and some shame burnt into memory that kept him from being a deviant now. but with his designation such as it was, he didn't know what would push him over the edge. it could be anything.

or at least, it's what he likes to think, in this moment. it's probably what hank would want, and regardless of anything else, he wants to conform to his desires.

but that's nothing new. ]

I'm sorry. Did I say something wrong?

Edited 2020-12-05 06:57 (UTC)

( The question, it echoes through his mind as he recalls the desperation of seeing Connor's body in the mangled frame of the car.

His heart hammers in his chest, and he gasps for a breath as his sobs became louder, perhaps an attempt to drown out the screams that surfaced from the accident. He doesn't want to remember, and he doesn't want to be here... awake. For now, he can't respond to Connor. )

Hank...? Hank!

[ it's stupid. he's stupid. he should have known that he would respond badly in the face of this kind of trauma. has he really strayed so far off course? it galls him, to see the missteps he's making. for some reason he had thought he could walk in through hank's hospital room door and everything would simply go back to the way it was before; now it appears more likely they'll have to struggle to fit themselves back into that shape.

it makes him question himself. whether he fits at all. maybe he's just prolonging the inevitable...

something passes over his face. there are things he probably shouldn't do after dying and walking back into hank's life like it's... nothing. it's not nothing. but he can't help it. he has to do something.

he reaches out and touches him. it doesn't come naturally. but he remembers what he used to do. his fingers close around his arm, and he places the other hand on hank's back. ]

Look, I'm right here. Everything is going to be fine.

( Despite the hesitance in accepting the reality of Connor's ... rebirth, Hank takes the comfort as offered. He moves a hand over on top of Connor's on his arm. The large bandaged-mittened-up hand is massive compared to Connor's. The medical team makes sure to wrap Hank's hands up thoroughly to prevent any further harm to his hands as he had demonstrated a willingness to cause further injury to them. For him, it was just a means to get dosed, to be knocked out. Sooner or later, though, they'll stop giving him the drugs he wants... the drugs he needs.

After a moment of unhinged emotion, Hank gathers himself back together, enough that he manages to stop sobbing, though a few tears stroll down his cheeks slowly. He looks to Connor, and instead of resistance, he sees someone that could... help him. )

I need more... more medicine... I'm hurting, please.

[ connor waits, wondering when it will end. not hank's outburst— but the sensation that he's doing this wrong. that the last version of himself would have done it differently. this isn't the same as the last time he died. he hadn't been alive long before. hadn't really been alive at all, strictly speaking. he had barely been a person at the time, hours out from his first initialization. he hadn't spent months living with someone, going through life's motions, experiencing. feeling.

it's hardly comparable.

but he still remembers it all.

and he remembers why this is a bad idea. his eyes drift downward, to the bandaged hands, and he finds himself wondering again how it happened. it must have been something to do with connor, but in what way, exactly...? were they self-inflicted? his eyes dart upward. he isn't naïve. at least, not like that— he knows hank's personal issues put him at risk for addiction.

but it's his fault that hank is in this position. ]

I'll... talk to the nurse.

Go... hurry...

( The prospect of having a high rush of opiates in his system is far too appealing in that he was fine to forego Connor's presence beside him. At the same time, he still struggles to see Connor's undamaged body, but he wants him around. He wants him near. It doesn't have to make sense. Now, all he wants, all he needs is the pain to go away, the ... reality to fade away, and for him to sleep.

Maybe things will be better next time he wakes. Maybe things will make sense again. )

[ connor hesitates before leaving, before taking his hand from hank's back and the other from his arm to stand. without allowing himself to glance back over his shoulder, he steps outside to talk to the nurse, approaching her with a list of concerns as he makes hank's request for him. he arranges it to sound all very above board, and he doesn't know if that's why she acquiesces, but she does. connor returns with her as she administers another dosage, standing himself beside the bed like a bodyguard or hovering ghost.

he wonders if it'll be any better when hank wakes up again.

but he's pretty sure the answer is "probably not". ]

( The dose provides Hank with four more hours of sleep. When he wakes, it's another onslaught of pain and discomfort, both physically and mentally - then there's the kind of pain that comes with seeing Connor's untarnished face. He was so beautiful, so perfect. Hank had come to love the little details in Connor's face, his body, those imperfections - that goofy sort of look Connor got around Hank that sometimes made him suspicious of Connor. It was a bit naughty, and Hank loved the unknown Connor brought to their dynamic. Shocking him at times with explosive revelations - like coming home to a completely nude Connor, waiting for him, on his bed! Those memories were at the front of his mind as he watched Connor and came more into consciousness.

After a while, he realizes he needs the toilet, and he asks Connor for the nurse, once again, but doesn't tell him why. He waits until Connor's out of the room, and he begins to peel off the blankets that cover him. He's in a hospital gown, and because he's not in a severe condition, he's not hooked up to any tubes. He manages to get to the bathroom door before Connor comes back with the nurse.

He declines the nurse's assistance and tells them he can piss by himself, that he's a big boy. The nurse leaves the two of them alone. Hank was trying to find some privacy so that he can struggle without any witnesses. For a moment, he looks to Connor, then wanders the rest of the way to the bathroom and tries to pull the door closed behind him. )

[ connor waits by the bed for the four hours that hank sleeps. he considers making a report to cyberlife (not through amanda, a detail which he hadn't missed on activation, but couldn't bring himself to question at the time) and decides not to. there's no reason for him to do so, except for the sake of familiarity, and hadn't he left that behind?

except, it hasn't really been that long, has it? it hasn't even been a full year since he opened his eyes for the first time, blinded by the whiteness surrounding him. or maybe his eyes had just taken time to adjust to all the sensory input, and that had only made it seem impossibly right.

it would've been hard to say. it isn't a complete memory. they wiped him several times before he was officially released in his capacity as a prototype.

he greets hank when he wakes, making his very best attempt at providing some familiar baseline for which to hold onto. but there's no way to smooth this over. there's no changing where they are or what's happening. just the same, he can't do anything when hank asks for the nurse and he understands too late that it's his pride preventing him from accepting his help. or maybe he just doesn't want connor to see him in a vulnerable position.

connor approaches the bathroom door after the nurse has left. ]

Lieutenant, do you need any help?

( The saving grace was that the hospital gown left his rear side open for all to see. He didn't have anything beneath that. There were two ways he could go about this; he could piss standing up and nudge his dick with his mittens or sit down and piss. Sitting down and pissing didn't at all bring him any fucking comfort. So, he went with the impossible handle of his dick with his large gauze boxer-gloves. In the end, he got most of his urine in the toilet. Cursing every time his stream splashed off the porcelain and onto the floor. Connor's inquiry was left neglected until Hank wandered out of the bathroom with a discouraged expression. )

Let's go home. I'm fucking done here.

[ connor has half a mind to walk in on him just to prove he's still that uncooperative, but he wars with himself long enough over the idea— and how spectacular the potential blowup would be— until hank is walking out of the bathroom and the time to make the decision has passed. with an inward sigh, he follows hank. his eyes dart in his direction every few seconds, but he doesn't say anything until he's got his hands on his clothes (which had been folded and bagged after being laundered).

suppressing a frown, connor glances askance one more time. ]

This will go more quickly if you let me help you.

Fine. ( Hank allows Connor to help him. He had made the rash decision to leave but didn't realize that he wouldn't be able to put his clothes on, or ... do anything, with his hands all bandaged up like this.

He wanted to take the mittens off, but he knew better. They throbbed with burning pain, and his mind was still a bit fuzzy from the concoction of medication he was on.

Just as Connor had gotten Hank's pants up, the nurse walked in and complained about what they were seeing. The nurse informed the both of them that he was not given clearance to leave, and considering the behavior Hank had displayed in the hospital the last few days, the doctor recommended that he stay in hospital or be admitted to the psych ward for further care until both his physical and psychological needs were met. Hank, of course, rejected either treatment plan and offered a third option. )

My partner is here, he can look after me!

[ it's going to be a point of contention, he sees it immediately. the nurse stares at him like she's daring him to be the one to argue against her good sense, but it's easy for him to take hank's side. and not just because he feels compelled to ingratiate himself.

it's not good for hank to be here, in the hospital.

and he doesn't like it either. he wants to leave. he wants to go back to hank's house. he wants to go home.

connor finishes fastening hank's pants, his knuckles brushing against the warm softness of his stomach, and reaches around him for his shirt. as he's helping him pull the sleeves over his bandaged hands, he offers the nurse an almost too-polite smile. ]

I promise to call if anything comes up, but I'm sure I can handle things from here.

( The nurse is reluctant but soon leaves the room to retrieve a doctor. By the time a doctor enters the room, Hank's looking for his car keys.

The doctor explains that Hank will need to return tomorrow to attend to the injuries on his hands. Hank agrees with a "fine" and, at that point, he realizes he doesn't have keys - and that his rental car is probably still at the junkyard.

Which he was planning on going to anyway. )

[ while they listen to the doctor speak, connor calls a taxi. there's no need for hank to tell him where the rental car is. if he were legally capable of doing so, he would've gotten it himself and brought it here instead of relying on a taxi in the first place, but it wasn't being rented out to him, and he and hank weren't attached in any way that legally allowed him to commandeer it.

they couldn't be, legally. in the eyes of the law, androids are still property.

but it only takes a few minutes for the taxi to arrive. ]

Hank. Let's go.

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