#deviant!connor x reader

detroit’s aquarium was wonderfully big, hosting all kinds of aquatic marvels: small seahorses and thick eels, vibrant crabs and starfish, sleek sharks and sleepy turtles. inside it was kept dark, only dim floor lights serving as a guide through all the tanks. it felt intimate, despite the presence of others, for in the darkness, it was only you, connor, and the fish.

connor moved slowly, taking his time with the displays. his face always wavered close to the glass, eyes wide with wonder. in a low voice, he’d rattle off facts and statistics to you; fish do not generate new scales, rather increasing the size of existing ones and like humans, fish can actually drown in water if there’s not enough oxygen. optimal levels have proven to be between–

you were only half-listening, for you’ve been here before, had read all the information plaques in your youth. while some fish caught your attention – the delicate little krill trilling in the water, for instance – your gaze mainly stayed on connor. his voice was bright and lilting as he spoke, even through the hushed tones. he was utterly enraptured; sometimes he’d even stumble over his words, surely a sign that he was trying to process too many things at once. you could only smile at his childlike curiosity, never letting go of his hand.

the big cylindrical tank in the middle of a dark room was where you two spent most of your visit. inside, jellyfish floated on invisible currents, drifting, rootless. its dark blue light fell over the two of you, bathing you in the enigma of a contained piece of deep ocean. connor was silent now, nose practically pressed against the glass – somehow, you managed to supress a giggle. you wondered what he saw in all those colourful fish, these transparent tentacled creatures.

“what are you thinking about?” you whispered, snaking an arm around his waist and leaning into his shoulder. never taking his eyes off the floating jellyfish in front him, which seemed to be uncannily watching him back, he accommodated your form against him, vaguely registering the notion of how well you two fit together. his expression was contemplative; awe having been subdued to a kind of wistful consideration. “there are more than two thousand types of jellyfish,” he murmured, lifting a hand to touch the glass. “and they are one of the few species of aquatic life able to adapt to the increasing amount of ocean dead zones. they are colonising while other species are withering.” you turned your gaze to the floating specimens, subconsciously mimicking connor’s signature head tilt. you had gotten better at reading connor, and knew that whatever was on his mind was well beyond such two-dimensional facts. but you didn’t pry; sometimes he needed time to figure out how to articulate his emotions, his thoughts; thoughts that were now limitless and unhindered by programmed boundaries, thus requiring more time to be fully realised.

you did not know why the jellyfish had fascinated him so, but you stayed with him for however long he remained standing there, hand pressed to the glass in a manner which struck you as longing. you decided to leave him to his own devices for a while, visiting the crustaceans again to laugh at their amusing shifts and squabbles.

when you returned, it looked like he hadn’t even moved. gently, you hugged him from behind, entwining your hands with his own while pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “come on,” you cooed, feeling him coming alive again at your touch, “you once told me you liked gourami fish. they’re next.” connor looked back at you over his shoulder, face softening.

the last exhibit indeed hosted dwarf gouramis, and discus, and guppies. the small, colourful fish were so endearing that you couldn’t stop smiling, one even trailed your finger as you lazily hovered it over the glass. when connor heard your soft laugh, a rush of affection flooded his vision with all kinds of warnings, but he quickly dismissed them all. the temperature rise, the thirium pump’s extra strain, the software instability – he knew by now that it was simply love. when you looked at him, about to call his attention to this peculiar fish seemingly trying to nibble at your finger through the glass, he graced you with one of those rare, dimple-cheeked smiles. it almost brought you to your knees, and it definitely brought you to his lips – your kiss was gentle yet searing, and connor was smiling into it, holding you by your elbows as you grasped both sides of his face.  

it was in the shadowy twilight of the ocean blue hue and darkness that connor kissed you again and again, basking in the wonder of life, in the compassion of your being and in the curiosity of the surrounding fish. he was so, so happy, unable to wipe the smile off his face even if he were to issue a command to his processing centre. emotions were not governed by his software – they were governed by his heart, by this soul he had somehow managed to find along the way.

After his first impression with Hank he hadn’t been particularly enthused about being assigned another partner. He was more than capable of adapting to human unpredictability that much was certain, but the idea of having another cynical, ill-tempered, emotionally unstable human to work with would make his life far more difficult than it had to be.

Meeting you had been a breath of fresh air, as humans say.

You were nothing like Hank. Where he had been defiant and hostile, you had been civil and accepting. You showed no bias. You acted professionally. Most surprisingly, you spoke to him openly and displayed a genuine interest in his help.

Relieved and, admittedly, a bit stunned he’d asked if it bothered you that he was an android.

“Human or android, a crime is a crime. What’s the difference?”

Above all the other pleasant surprises he’d discovered about you, he found himself satisfied most with your answer.

-

Connor felt intrigued by you.

Humans had such peculiar ways of life- the habits that they displayed, the routines they upkept. All of them were so carefully executed yet brought, to his knowledge, no real meaning to their day to day lives.

Being Cyberlife’s most effective model meant that he was instilled with the notion that everything had a purpose. Every step. Every calculation. Every analysis. Each was executed with the intent to complete a comprehensive task dedicated to his primary objective. Even his seemingly human habit of coin tossing came with the purpose of calibrating his systems. 

To him, it seemed so frivolous to complete a task that contributed nothing to their own current objectives.

Humans displayed such strange behavior, repetitively, he noted. 

You were no exception.

The way that you blew on your coffee exactly three times despite knowing that it would do nothing to cool it down.

The way you would walk away from a frustrating case file and immediately come back to it after a mere 6.62 second average, no new insight found.

The way you brought your headphones to every crime scene despite never once listening to music outside of the office.

Why do it? Why waste time doing such meaningless acts of repetition when it could be spent on completing something truly relevant in the field?

It eluded him. You eluded him.

…

Yet he couldn’t help but feel intrigued.

-

Connor felt conflicted by you.

From the moment he was activated there had been only one thing on his mind. The mission.

Biocomponents. Model numbers. Case files. Every minute of every day was filled with nothing but information on the deviants he was assigned to neutralize. As Cyberlife’s last hope to end the uprising before it began, Connor pursued his mission with a searing drive. He completed every task efficiently, almost religiously, and without fail. It was his sole purpose, his only reason for existence. In a way the mission was his lifeline. Without it there was no him.

And then there was you.

An excellent partner and an even better detective, Connor had been continuously impressed by your work ethic. You were just as determined as him, if not more, and you’d proven time and time again that having an android around wasn’t going to stop you from doing whatever it took to solve a case. He would have accomplished his mission even without the DPD’s help, but with every new case, he found that working alongside you had made his mission even more probable of success.

That was his initial thought, at least.

The mission was of utmost importance, his top priority, yet the words of such overwhelming kindness and sincerity spoken from you.

The way you smiled at him as if he were human…alive.

Suddenly there were two things that occupied his mind. As his time with you progressed, he refused to admit which one he began to favor more.

-

Connor was distressed by you.

He had never felt fear for his own well-being. He was a soldier. A machine. He was expendable and could be easily replaced with the snap of a finger. Being in such a dangerous field this artificial immortality of his proved to be useful.

He’d never been concerned with his safety.

Yours, however, he concerned with all too much.

Humans were so fragile, so very fragile, and he never realized the terrifying truth of this until he met you.

“It’s a flesh wound, Connor. I’m fine.”

But you weren’t fine. Not really. Statistically speaking, a bullet to the shoulder roughly had an 84% survival rate in normal circumstances. Received in a high-risk field such as law enforcement then that percentage dropped to 79%. The rate was still fairly high, albeit undesirable. Connor knew this. The minute he saw the android fire the gun his brain had already computed the outcome and chance of your survival.

But the splatter of crimson as you crumpled to the floor, your pained scream echoing in his ears…

In that brief moment, he forgot the statistics.

He didn’t care what Amanda thought. He didn’t care that he needed the android alive. He didn’t care that he very well lost one of his only chances to get information on Jericho. All he cared about was that it hurt you.

His only thought before pulling the trigger was that he wouldn’t have hesitated even if it were human.

-

Connor felt exhausted by you.

Androids couldn’t experience physical fatigue. They had no brains to overwork or muscles to wear out, no need for food or water or sleep. Their bodies were meant to last for decades at maximum efficiency. They were the perfect machines, and naturally, they could never feel tired.

Connor soon realized that this statement was completely false.

In the six agonizing hours that he’d spent waiting for your surgery to be over he’d become painstakingly aware of how tired androids could get. It was like his body had become lead, a ridiculous statement considering he was primarily made of plastic. No matter how many statistics he went through to keep himself focused- the total pints of blood contained in a hospital, the different types of emergency surgery and their subcategories, the aftereffects of anesthesia- he found himself feeling more and more exhausted as the hours ticked by.

4 hours, 27 minutes, and 14 seconds. That was how long your surgery took. When he saw the doctor walk through the hospital doors he can say with absolute certainty that it was the most adrenaline-induced experience he’d felt since activation.

He’d held your hand as you slept. 98.4 degrees Fahrenheit. Heart rate 72 beats per minute. Vitals. Your vitals.

The exhaustion of waiting was nothing compared to the crushing relief that washed over him seeing you alive.

-

Connor felt invigorated by you.

Deviation was…a conflicting process. Granted, he wasn’t even fully aware he had deviated before leaving to infiltrate Jericho, however the final decision during his confrontation with Markus had not been surprising, much to his- well, surprise. But deep down he always knew that no abundance of statistics could cloud the memories of you that now flooded his mind. Your laugh. Your smile. Your loving words.

Where he once focused all of his being on accomplishing the mission he now found himself directing towards fighting for you, living for you, and it gave him a new sense of purpose that brought a completeness he had never felt before. It felt foreign, yet so right, as if his entire being was meant to intertwine with yours. As if nothing else mattered but you.

It frightened him almost as much as it inspired him.

It was this invigoration that helped him realize that infiltrating Cyberlife was the only way to truly remain by your side.

“Come back to me.” 

Even if it meant dying for you.

But he refused to let it come to that.

-

Connor felt saddened by you.

As Hank pointed the gun at his head, the imposter only inches away from himself, he couldn’t help the pang in his chest as he lamented over the words he never got to say to you.

-

Connor felt elated by you.

They had won.

They were free.

Amidst the cheering and tearful embraces from his people, nothing made him happier on that day than the feeling of your lips on his when he returned to the hospital. There was so much he had yet to understand. So much he had yet to experience. He was ecstatic. Relieved. Conflicted. Fearful. So many emotions that he couldn’t possibly begin to process in that moment.

But perhaps for the first time amidst these conflicting feelings, holding you in his firm embrace, he understood what it meant to be alive.

-

Connor felt many things by you, but above all else…

“I do.”

He felt loved by you.

-

AN: You know, sometimes you’re supposed to be working on an English paper and sometimes you end up finishing a six month old 1.4k fic...*wheeze*

Also hi there. Introducing fake statistics by @yes-hello-dbh . Don’t tell anyone.

But in all seriousness, I dropped this wip back in like September(?) and completely forgot about it for a while. Glad I went digging through my old works and decided to finish it. It’s a little rushed, and I know the dbh fandom is practically dead at this point, but it never hurts to introduce new content. Hope you enjoyed!

“Maybe.” Connor had answered thoughtfully, his attention lingering on the hanging plants. One was an ivy, with large green and white leaves that dangled far down the wall, just barely brushing against the floor of the living room. It seemed to be thriving, soaking up all the natural light it could ever need. He would have to remember to water it, to make sure it continued to thrive. It felt important to him that he do so. The other plants, placed in window sills throughout the apartment, were a mix of succulents and flowers. Anthuriums, peace lily’s, and gerbera daisies. All healthy, all prospering despite being left unattended for some time, according to the landlord. Connor didn’t have much of a green thumb but he would do what he could to make sure the plants continued to do well. It seemed wrong to let them wither, even if the previous tenant didn’t think them important enough to bring with them.

Hank and Markus were kind enough to help Connor unpack the same day he moved in. There wasn’t much, only a few boxes, but the help was appreciated none the less. Hank insisted on giving Connor some dishes.

“Even if you don’t eat, doesn’t mean your guests won’t.” He had said gruffly, putting the few plates and bowls away in one of the upper cupboards. Connor only nodded, before focusing on putting away the clothes he had amassed since waking up. It had been nearly a year since the revolution, since Connor deviated and found himself truly awake to the world around him. He was still adjusting, the changes and realisations coming to him slower than they did with Markus and other deviant androids. That was okay though, Connor thought. He was getting through it all one step at a time, his own way, and as Hank had said many times before, that was all that mattered.

Once everything was unpacked and put away wherever Connor wanted, Markus had to leave. He had been nothing but busy since the revolution ended, at the head of working out android related rights and laws, so Connor didn’t mind at all. Hank stayed for a few more hours, before awkwardly admitting he needed to get home to Sumo.

“You gonna be alright?” He asked, hovering at the front door with scrunched brows.

“Yes, I think so. If I need anything, I will be sure to call you.” Connor answered, offering the lieutenant a reassuring smile. Hank still hesitated though, staring Connor down, before finally nodding and wishing him farewell. Connor watched him go down the hall, only going back into the, or rather his, apartment once Hank disappeared into the elevator.

Without anyone else there, the place felt different. Not empty or hollow, strangely enough, but different. Connor drummed his fingers lightly against his outer thighs, before moving through his apartment. The sun was beginning to set below the city line, casting his living room in fire-coloured light. He moved to sit on his new couch, sinking into the cushions while flicking on the TV. He liked the movie channels, in particular, stations that would air re-runs of films long since released, movies that for the most part, Connor had never seen before. The one channel was just getting ready to play a movie called ‘The Lovely Bones’. Hank had told Connor time and time again to not look up the films that came on, saying it would only spoil it for him. So he didn’t, instead choosing to lean back against the cushions of his couch, watching the screen intently.

It was just as the opening credits were ending, that the sound of something opening somewhere in the apartment had Connor quickly getting to his feet, LED flickering yellow. What could that have been? Quickly, he made his way out of the living room and down the short hallway, checking the bathroom first. Nothing seemed disturbed there, so he moved to his bedroom. Upon opening the door, it was easy to see what had caused the noise. The closet, which was normally hidden by a pair of white doors with shutter designs for decoration, was exposed, the doors standing wide open. Connor blinked. “I could have sworn I closed those.” He muttered to himself, crossing the room to close the doors once more, making sure they clicked shut. He most likely had not made sure to close them properly last time, so they had swung open. Nodding to himself, happy with that explanation, Connor turned on his heel and made his way towards the hallway.

Click.

He stopped short, momentarily frozen before turning again. His indicator flashed between cyan and yellow at the sight of the closet doors being open again. Now, Connor was positive he had closed them correctly that time. His brows furrowed gently in confusion as he once again crossed the room and closed the doors, waiting for that telling click. Just to make sure, he tugged on the doorknobs. They had to be turned to open the doors, you couldn’t just pull them open. Maybe the latch that held the doors closed was faulty, causing it to come loose over time. He would have to check later, but for now, Connor wanted to finish his movie.

So even as the doors swung open again, despite the strange feeling it gave him, Connor continued out of the bedroom and back into the living room. Instead of seeing ‘The Lovely Bones’ playing on the television, however, there was nothing. The TV was off, which didn’t make any sense, because Connor hadn’t turned it off. Something was going on, something that Connor couldn’t explain, which only concerned him further. Moving to the couch, he scooped up the remote from the glass coffee table, and hit the power button. Nothing. He tried again, only for the same exact thing to happen; nothing.

“Damn.” He muttered to himself, setting the remote back on the table and stepping around, crouching in front of the screen. Reaching around the side, he located the power button and clicked it. The screen flickered to life, playing the movie again. So maybe the remote was broken, having somehow turned the TV off. That was fine, he could replace that as well if need be. Except, when he moved to stand again, the screen went black once more. He exhaled in frustration and knelt back down, looking at the screen.

A woman’s form was standing behind the couch in the reflection.

Spinning around, Connor’s back bumped the TV, his LED flashing yellow as mahogany eyes scanned the living room and kitchen for whoever had just been standing behind him. There was no one there and no sign of anyone having been there. Slowly, Connor rose to his feet, officially concerned about the security of his new home. He did a quick scan of the main area, detecting nothing, other than a drop in temperature. Strange, but it was an old building, so it made sense that the heating wouldn’t work perfectly all the time. Connor moved carefully around the coffee table and couch, standing between the living room and kitchen so he could look down the hallway. There was no one there and there was no way a person would have been able to move quickly and silently enough to make it down the hallway into the bedroom, or out the front door, without him noticing. Something that he did notice, however, was the smell...vanilla? That didn’t make any sense, there was no food in the apartment, just bottles of thirium in the fridge. The scent was strong though, filling his senses, wrapping him in a blanket of warm spice. It would have been comforting if it weren’t for how bizarre and unwarranted it was.

Shaking his head, Connor moved back down the hallway, checking the bedroom and bathroom thoroughly for any sign of intrusion. There was nothing, like he expected. Was he having a malfunction? He had never had any issue like it before, which was all the more worrying. He stood there in the bedroom for a moment, hands at his sides and brows furrowed while he thought.

A rustle.

Instead of running towards the sound, Connor opted for a slower, more silent approach. He crept carefully out of his bedroom and down the hall, sticking to the wall. Darkness had fallen over the apartment with the sun dipping past the horizon. As he stepped out into the living room, he saw through the windows that dusk had taken over Detroit, painting the sky a symphony of deep blue, pink, and purple, stars beginning to burst into view. And there, standing in front of the windows, was a woman. She didn’t seem to notice Connor, eyes focused on the ivy that hung near the window, hands delicately brushing over the surface of the fat leaves. She reminded him of the sun itself, translucent and gleaming while stars twinkled through her like crystals. At first, he assumed her to be a hologram, some sort of technology-produced illusion, but he could find no source for her, nothing to give evidence to the reasoning he was trying desperately to find.

“Who are you?” Connor breathed, unfamiliar with the sensation he was experiencing. It wasn’t fear, he knew what fear felt like and this was different. He couldn’t decide if he wanted to keep feeling it or not, forcing himself to focus on the spectre in front of him, running diagnostics in the background of his mind.

She looked at him, eyes dreamy and expression soft, hands dropping from the ivy to hang at her sides. She reminded him of someone from a different time, with her assortment of bracelets that climbed up towards her elbows, flowing patterned skirt and denim vest. Pretty wasn’t a good word for her, for what she was. For once, Connor couldn’t think of the word, not yet.

“I was wondering the same thing about you.” She answered smoothly, lips twitching up in a gentle smile as she eyed him. The temperature of the apartment had begun to steadily decline, but Connor’s readings showed that where she was, it was nothing but warm, like standing out in the sun. He swallowed, compelled to answer.

“My name is Connor.” Was he quiet reply, to which her smile grew.

“Connor. I like that.” She stepped towards him, feet carrying her through the coffee table and couch while he stepped back until his back was bumping into the kitchen island. His indicator stayed a steady shade of gold.

“You don’t need to worry, you’re not malfunctioning. I really am what you think I am.” Her voice was smooth, comforting; like honey.

“And what’s that?” He asked, hands lifting to grip the edge of the granite island.

“Dead.” She answered easily, the word falling from her mouth like a breath, like it was nothing but second-nature. “A ghost, a spectre, a memory; something along those lines, I imagine.”

Connor straightened slowly, letting his left hand slowly slip from its previous spot. He was curious, something that Hank and others said was a blessing and a curse. ‘Curiosity killed the cat,’ Hank would say. What about her though? What killed the woman made of sunshine? Hesitantly, he began to reach forward, stopping short. Her expression softened, gaze warm and voice eternally patient.

“It’s alright.” She soothed, nodding for him to continue. So he did, pale fingers reaching out until they felt...nothing. Connor’s eyes widened as his hand went right through her, the only indication that they had, being the gentle warmth he felt. He withdrew and let his hand hang at his side, the sensation of her lingering.

“I’m sorry.” He blurted softly, feeling like it was the right thing to say in that moment. Her smile remained, a quiet, breathy chuckle escaping her.

“You don’t need to apologise Connor.”

“Why are you here?” He asked, that curiosity urging him to ask more, to know more. Or maybe it was something else. Connor couldn’t be certain, and perhaps that was what bothered him most of all; the uncertainty.

“This is my home. Or, it was at one point.” She explained, gliding gently down the hallway, with Connor following. “I was alone for some time, before you came here. I was curious.” She admitted with a casual shrug of her shoulders, gaze looking to the paintings on the walls before she turned suddenly and stepped through him, leaving Connor feeling breathless and warm. He continued to follow her, wanting to know more, to hear more.

“So you were the previous tenant here? How long has it been, since…” He trailed off, unsure if it would be rude to continue.

“Since I died? Almost a year now, I believe.” If she were bothered with his question, she didn’t show it, carrying herself back over to the living room windows, gazing outside. With nightfall finally having taken over, Connor could see her more clearly. He could see the waves of her hair, the spots and blemishes across her skin.

“How?” He asked, soft.

“I was sick. One day I was here, and the next...well, that’s just how death works.” He was finding it hard to believe, everything. That she was really a ghost, that she was dead, that she had only died recently with how wise and content she seemed to be and the way she dressed.

“It’s okay.” She spoke suddenly, still gazing out the window. He couldn’t see her reflection in the glass. “I miss being alive, but I don’t miss being sick. So in a way, this is better. I get to look after my plants, and sometimes I meet new people when they come here.” She turned to face him again finally, grinning softly.

“You are the first to stay though. To talk to me. Maybe it’s because you’re an android. They’ve always been more understanding, I find.”

“So androids don’t bother you?” He asked, a little surprised. She giggled, the sound echoing through the apartment, making Connor shiver.

“Not at all. Some of the best people I knew are androids.” Her expression softened as if she were recalling something, a distant memory. She shook her head, dropped gaze returning to meet his.

“Can I ask you something?” She said, head tilting and hands folding neatly in front of her. Connor felt warm, warmer than he had ever felt before. It wasn’t uncomfortable or smothering; just warm.

“Yes.” He answered.

“Are you afraid?”

A pause. Silence filled the apartment, much like her glow and much like her laugh. Connor’s indicator had returned to cyan, although he wasn’t sure when. He hadn’t noticed.

“No.”

She beamed, and he felt himself smiling back.

“Connor?” you croaked, struggling to get the words out. It was hard to speak through the oxygen mask attached to your mouth.

“Y/N. You're awake,” he whispered. He sounded immensely relieved. You couldn't quite see him, but you made out a smudge of his skin in the periphery of your vision.

You lifted your hand slowly and pulled the mask away with great difficulty. Every movement took humongous amount of effort and your tired hand flopped to the side.

“What the- fuck- happened,” you managed in between breaths.

Connor came into your field of you suddenly, scrambling to put the mask back on you. But you resisted.

“Talk to me,” you yelled but the words came out in a feeble whisper.

You heard him sigh deeply. “I am going to fetch the doctor so she can run tests on you.”

You heard him leave the room.

Shutting your eyes, your strained to remember what had transpired. But your mind blanked out after the point where you were running towards Connor.

You moved to sit up, your vision getting fairly clear now. You could make out the white, pristine equipment beside you, the blue walls and solid steel cylinders in the far corner of the room.

Just as you pulled yourself up, you felt a sharp tug in your lower back and bright spots danced before you eyes. You fell down back with a thump, feeling the sting crawl all the way up your back. Metal coated your tongue.

You heard three sets of footsteps just then, undoubtedly of the doctor, Connor and probably an assistant.

“Good Lord you're awake,” the doctor chirped, shining a bright light into your eyelids.

You squirmed under its intensity as the pain in your lower back died down slowly.

“Pupil functional,” the doctor mumbled to her assistant.

“Doc, what happened?” you managed to draw out.

Your vision cleared almost fully and you could make out Connor’s face next to the Doctor's. He was stone-faced, as usual.

“You, my dear, were stabbed,” the doctor said, reading something on the meter next to her.

“Brain functional.”

“What!?” you exclaimed and regretted it immediately. Just yelling made your back tingle with the sting.

“Yeah. Injury to the erector spinae. The muscle that holds your spine upright,” the doctor said quietly and you felt your heart quicken it's pace.

“Doctor am I-” you whispered, voice suddenly trembling. Your mind had already jumped to a hundred possible conclusions, each worse than the last.

“Sweetheart, no. We managed to replace the muscle. A very, very intricate surgery that lasted about thirty six hours,” she paused, reading something from a file the nurse had given her.

You glanced at Connor then. Your gaze clashed with the brown of his eyes and you saw his jaw clench. Without a word he turned away and presumably, stalked out of the room.

“But the muscle seems to be working now. However, you're going to have to rest for a month or possibly longer. The muscles haven't exactly.. set in,” the doctor explained.

You gulped. That could've been close. Permanent paralysis. You shook your head. Better not think about it.

“Doctor.. Connor.. is he okay?” you asked, remembering that you had rushed to save him. He seemed okay but you couldn't be sure.

“The android? Yes of course. He was the one who brought you in. And hasn't left your side ever since. Not once, not even during the surgery.”

Your heart fluttered at her words.

Connor had stayed by your side.

“How long have I been.. you know..?”

“A week.”

A week. A week you had been comatose and Connor had stayed by your side.

Your Connor.

“Your vitals are almost fully normal now. Except the fact that you cannot move your back much. If you want to sit up, you may move the bed but do not, under any circumstances, move your back,” the doctor ordered and you nodded. No way in hell were you going to argue about this. You loved your job way too much.

“Think we should get you some real food in you now, you've been surviving on only liquids and such,” the doctor said.

“Connor will take care of that. Could you please send him in?” you asked, glancing at the doorway.

The doctor nodded, smiling and left.

A minute later, a conflicted looking Connor walked in.

“Nice to see you too, handsome” you murmured, as he settled down somewhere next to you, without a word.

“Hey, could you help me sit up?” you asked, gesturing at what you assumed was the elevation controller in the bed.

Connor obliged wordlessly, twisting the handle so you could sit up.

You glanced at Connor as he sat back on the stool.

“Are you going to say something- anything?”

His forehead creased and you swore you saw his mouth twitch but his thin lips didn't crack.

“How are you feeling?” he asked instead

You could see the tension in his shoulders, the clench of his jaw.

He was furious and confused and all things Connor. You sighed.

“For someone who got stabbed in the back? Pretty dope,” you said wryly, glancing at your hands.

“You could've died,” he said, voice dropping low. Something like fear clouded his eyes and your heart missed a beat at the change in his expression.

“I know. But you saved me,” you said quietly, wanting to reach over and hold his hand.

“If I hadn't seen you, Y/N...,” he said, faltering and glanced up at you. “You lost a lot of blood. I barely got you here in time.”

“But you did. I'm fine, now, Connor,” you said. He seemed so serious, you didn't have the heart to make a joke. But you didn't like the frown on his face either.

“Are you actually feeling sad for me?” you asked, reaching over to brush your hand against his.

“I was afraid, Y/N. Afraid that I would lose you,” he confided, looking up at you with those gorgeous brown eyes.

You could've burned under his gaze.

“Are we literally having a chick-flick moment right now?” you said, rolling your eyes. You brushed off his words with a scoff but your heart was hammering against your chest.

Connor didn't say anything for a while.

“What do you want to eat?” he asked softly, finally breaking the numbing silence.

You pretended to think for a while. “Is 'You’ an acceptable answer?” you said, raising your eyebrows suggestively. The tension in the room was too much for you to bear.

Connor’s cheeks turned a bright blue at that.

“Y/N, that's highly inappropriate,” he stammered, glancing away and twiddling his thumbs.

You tried not to smile.

“Heard you watched over me all this week. You like watching me sleep?” you asked, winking at him.

You were being awfully bold with him today but with everything you had experienced recently, you couldn't hold back.

Life was too short.

And watching Connor squirm was too much fun.

“What will it take for you to stop?” he said, trying hard to not let his words affect you.

You pretended to think for a moment.

“Well, an extremely well-placed kiss would do fine, you know?” you said casually.

Connor turned a brilliant shade of azure at that and you had never seen anything prettier.

**

You were going home. After four weeks of being bed ridden and spending time in a boring hospital room, you were glad you were going home.

Connor had, as usual, been completely oblivious to all your flirtations and teasing the four weeks. To his credit, he was extremely patient and didn't let it bother him much.

You might as well have told him you liked him and he still wouldn't have gotten the hint.

You stepped out of the car, moving as slowly as possible. Your back was still wrapped up but felt infinitely better.

“Y/N!” a voice called, a voice you recognized as Hank's as he ambled forward to envelope you in a hug.

You had decided to make a quick stop at Hank's on his insistence. Besides, you wanted to see the old man too. You wouldn't, of course, tell him that.

“Crushing me,” you whispered breathlessly, as he hugged you tight. He pulled back at that, a rare grin on his face.

“Jesus fuck, it's been too long,” he said, pulling you towards the house. He was unusually cheery and it seemed sort of out of place but you couldn't complain. You adored a happy Hank.

Connor was nowhere to be seen. He hadn't been to the hospital for the last two days either. Perhaps there was work at the DCPD.

The door of the house opened to reveal about twenty five people crammed inside the living room, drinks in hands and music blasting from somewhere inside.

“Welcome back, Y/N!”

The entire crowd erupted in a roar as you walked in, a surprised look on your face.

Colleagues and friends greeted you, cheering for you and wishing you a speedy recovery.

All the officers on the mission with you were unharmed and you thanked all of them for fighting so valiantly. The mission had been a success because of them and the rogue androids were now in captivity.

It had all played out well in the end.

You engaged with some of them, talking and catching up on all that you had missed during these four weeks.  

You were about to get a refill of your favorite drink (Hank knew you so well) when someone tapped your shoulder.

“Oh hey, look it's my favorite Android,” you said, as he pulled you behind him and to a secluded corner of the room.

“Where you been?” you asked, taking a sip of your drink.

“Y/N.. I've been thinking about what you said,” Connor mumbled and you looked at him sharply.

Something in his eyes sent a shiver down your spine.

“Thinking about wh-” you began but faltered when Connor leaned in close, suddenly and brushed his lips against yours, ever so slightly.

He pulled away a little, waiting for you to decide if you were going to push him away.

Your brain had stopped functioning. All you could think about was Connor. You had fantasized about him, fantasized about first kisses and first dates and here he was, standing so close to you, waiting for you to decide if you really wanted this. Waiting for you to decide if you wanted it all to become very real.

“Connor, I-” you began but were distracted by his full lips. You glanced at them fleetingly before flicking your gaze back to his eyes.

Apparently, that was all it took to persuade him.

In an instant, his lips were on yours, one hand cupping your cheek and the other on your back, close to your wound. You winced a little at his touch but his eyes were far too distracting for you too care about the pain.

He pulled you close until there was no space left in between and you could feel his thirium pump thud against your chest. 

In a room full of people, without so much as a care in the world, the android you were in love with kissed you with a comforting tenderness you had never felt before. 

So many times you had pictured yourself in this very situation and yet no fantasy came as close to what you were currently experiencing.

He kissed you fully, immersing himself into the kiss and you felt your heart soar. You felt warm and light against him, a feeling so overwhelming you couldn't have enough of it.

You let him consume you whole, as the world fell around the two of you. People were perhaps watching but you didn't care. You kissed him back with the passion of a thousand burning suns, deep and whole.

You let everything you felt for him pour into the kiss.

You let him know that right now, you could’ve traded the world to freeze this moment forever.

You let him know that you were truly and madly in love with him.

When you pulled back for air, Connor was smiling. There were only a few things more beautiful than the sight.

He had kissed  you. The android who couldn't tell if you were flirting with him or not.

“Damn son, where did you learn how to kiss like that?” you asked, still breathless.

“Since you..” he faltered, looking away for a second and composing himself. “After your accident.. I felt fear like I had never before. I was so afraid to lose you.. I realized that I felt things for you too. I didn’t understand much of it but every second that you spent asleep, I was afraid that you weren’t going to come back. And- that I was too late.”

You could’ve wept at his words but you only pulled him into a warm embrace, burying your face into his shoulder. “You don’t have to be afraid. I am here now.”

“And I’m never leaving you,” you said, pulling away and staring into those gorgeous eyes. 

A blue tint suffused his cheeks as he laced his fingers through yours.

“Was that a.. well-placed kiss?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow at you.

You burst into laughter at that, throwing your hands around his neck and pulling him close. The tension of a few seconds ago was momentarily forgotten as you rested your forehead against his, a smiled curling at your lips. 

God, you hadn’t been this happy in a while.

You decided then that you didn't care about the issues you had with commitment anymore. You would have to learn to face and eventually overcome, them.

After all, you only lived once (took you a near death experience to realize that but hey, you did).