I wrote a little something about Detroit: Become Human! Check it out if thatās what youāre into! (You can also read it on AO3 if you want :) ) Enjoy the show!
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the
Organization for Transformative Works
Darkness. The void of thought was swallowed in darkness.
Silence. Everything against his wishes was filled with silence.
Emptiness. The hands before him and the mind in his head were consumed by emptiness.
This was depravity, in every sense of the word. Not that that was an unfamiliar topic for Hank.
Almost as soon as the sensation began, it was shattered. A tiny light shone in the distance, the blackness nearly taking over its glimmer. It was spinning, spinning, spinning... red. Bright, harsh red.
A whimper then broke him out of his study. The sound was far off, and it echoed off the edges of the chasm, but it was enough to cause his feet to move.
Thoughts and voices were suddenly ambushing his head. So many mixed thoughts, so many rushed voices, the loudest though seeming to say protect.
Hank hurried off towards the direction of... whatever this was. No matter how fast he ran, he didnāt seem to be making any ground. How was he ever supposed to make it toā
He froze, only for a moment. He knew that voice anywhere. Heād be damned if he didnāt.
The man gritted his teeth, and he continued his sprint. The voice was growing more desperate. He needed to help. He needed to.
As he got closer to his destination, Hank realized with a shiver down his spine that the circling light was only becoming gradually brighter. He had to get there, and fast.
He dropped to his knees once the whites of Connorās glassy eyes were in view. His stomach churned when he slid a little on the enormous puddle of thirium covering the floorāor lack there of? That didnāt matter. Connor mattered.
āConnor! Connor, can you hear me, son?ā
ā...H-Hank,ā the android groaned, eyes half-lidded and mouth slightly agar. His breaths were long and shallow. They sounded painful to Hankās ears.
āIām here. Iām here. Whatās wrong?ā
Eerily spontaneously, Connorās eyes shot wide open, looking directly into Hankās, piercing through his soul, and filling with thick, deep blue liquid.
āYouāre too late, Lieutenant,ā he accused. āYou werenāt good enough, and now youāre too late.ā
āNo no no, weāre gonna fix you up. Iāll fix you, and then youāll be fine, and I promise, Connorāā
āNo. Itās over. You canāt just... fix me! Iām not just... just some little toy you can play with and put back togetherāā
āOf course not, Conāā
āNO! Iām not just a machine! I canāt just be fixed! After all, Iām human now, arenāt I?ā
A lopsided smile revealed blue-stained teeth. Surrounded by the darkness, he looked so much smaller than the capable prototype that the man knew. Hank swore, with everything in him, that when he looked down at Connorās eyes now, he saw the wide, terrified eyes of his first son.
āAnd humans canāt be fixed, Lieutenant.ā
Connor coughed, the sound sharp and wet, as thirium spilled from his mouth. It poured out endlessly, morbidly reminding Hank of that trip to Niagara Falls. Connor just lied there, half propped-up with his own arm, as gallons and gallons of liquid splashed to the ground.
Hank hated every second of it. His instincts kicked in, and he reached for his partner to help stabilize him. With a breath catching in his throat, he watched as his hand passed right through Connorās shoulders.
āLieutenant, you canāt,ā he somehow choked out. āYou canāt, Hank.ā
He was just an onlooker. There was absolutely nothing Hank could do but watch helplessly as the android suffered.
āHank... please. Please help! It hurts!ā
He squeezed his eyes shut, willing it all to go away.
āHank! I canātā it hurts! Please!ā
In the midst of the pleading cries, another voiceāa smaller, more far-off voiceāreverberated against the walls of Hankās mind.
Daddy? It hurts! Iām scared.
āItās going to be okay, son,ā he found himself saying. āJust hold on!ā
āIt hurts! Iām scared! Please, Hank! I canāt die. I donāt want to die! Iām scared! PLEASE!ā
āNo no no I canāt lose you too. Iāve got you, Iāve got...ā
āCome on, wake up. Please!ā
Eyes flying open, Hank awoke with a gasp of the cold nightās air. He searched the room frantically until he found who he was looking for. Connor was sitting right in front of him, holding him by the shoulders at armās length, and watching with a complicated expression.
āCan you hear me, Lieutenant,ā he asked in a calm, careful tone.
āCan I hear you? I can hear you just fine! Can you hear me?ā
Connorās face scrunched up. āIām afraid I donāt understand...ā
āItās gonna be okay, alright? Just hold on.ā In his delirious state, Hank pushed Connorās hands away and fumbled towards the lamp on the side of his bed before he finally lit the bedroom with a dull, warm glow. While he took in the image before him and felt for injuries, he said, āIām gonna fix this. Where does it hurt?ā
āIām alright. Nothing hurts.ā
āBut...ā He stammered, ābut you justāā
āIt was a dream, Lieutenant. Thereās no need for you to fix anything. Iām alright.ā
Hank wasnāt a crier. Not by any means. But in that moment, as much as he hated it, a wave of relief crashed over him and caused a few tears to spill. None of it was real. Connor was okay. No one was dying today. With that in mind, he let the water drip down his face.
āConnor,ā he croaked. He gasped again at the gravity of it all, trying to fill his lungs with painful breaths of air. His eyes were wide and frantic. His hands shook from where they gripped onto his nightshirt. Warning signs appeared in Connorās peripherals.
Hyperventilation imminent
Connor grimaced. It was nothing he hadnāt dealt with in the field before, but he hated that it had to be Hank going through it. It was... something he couldnāt exactly describe. Sympathy? Guilt? Heartbreak?
Of course, Connor had the ability to handle situations such as this. He was equipped to deal with the challenges of human emotions. But this? This was different. Hank wasnāt just another set of human emotions. He was, for lack of better terms, something else.
So he tossed aside is programmingās suggestions. Being The Negotiator wasnāt going to be the best course of action. He decided he would go with his gut, as Hank seemed to call it.
He reached out, hesitating with his arms out awkwardly, before fully committing. Connor pulled Hank into a tentative embrace, staying there frozen until he got some sort of response.
The man in his arms seemed to have the same reaction. He sniffled once before whispering, āConnor?ā
They stayed there for a moment, the air heavy with something that neither of them could quite place. Connor pulled away, just enough to look the man in front of him in the eye.
āI thought it would help,ā the android tried to explain, his gazed shifting to the mattress. āPhysical contact often helps in dealing with emotional trauma, and I thought it might do you some good, especially seeing how I was... likely the center of the problem. I was just trying toāā
Hank pulled him back in full force. Connor yelped in surprise. The former held the latter fiercely, and Connor, slowly but surely, wrapped his arms into a hug. A real hug this time, reminding him of that snowy day after the revolution.
It was warm, Connor decided, in every sense of the word. Even as the lieutenant let out the last of his tears, the deviantās lips curled into a small smile.
āDo you...ā he started, finally listening to something in his software. āDo you want to talk about it?ā
Hank hummed over his shoulder. āItās nothing,ā he settled for. āYouāre okay.ā
Something still wasnāt quite right though, Connor realized. Hank still hadnāt relaxed. Not really. Connor wondered if he could be the source of the issue.
āPump and regulator are fully functional,ā he started. āVentilation is normal, as well as BPM and thirium levels. No abnormalities have been detected in my systems. Iām okay, Hank. I promise.ā
Hank took a deep breath. He sat up while Connor put a stabilizing hand on Hankās shoulder, a position usually assumed by the human of the two. When he looked up, he was pleased to find a calm, pale blue LED, and he finally let himself believe.
The tension melted from his form with a heavy sigh.
āThatās um... thatās good. Sorry.ā
āSorry? You have nothing to be sorry for.ā Connor pinched his brows and seemed genuinely confused.
He thought. āI shouldāve bothered ya. You shouldnāt be worrying about my fucked up mind. Itās none of your business.ā
āYou arenāt bothering me. I was designed to reactivate from stasis if something is deemed important to my mission. I simply wanted to make sure you were alright.ā Connor shook his head with a smile. āAnd besides, you know your well-being comes as I higher concern to me than my own.ā
It shouldnāt sat on the tip of his tongue, but Hank kept quiet. He knew how resilient Connor could be, and he sure as hell knew he wasnāt going to win that fight.
Besides, Hank didnāt think he wanted to fight. Not really. Not when the kidās words caused a piece of him that had been dormant for years to bubble to the surface.
āYour business is my business. Weāre partners.ā
āWell, Iām still sorry, but...ā Hank shrugged and grinned for the first time that night. āI appreciate it, son. I really do.ā
The two both knew what he meant.
āThank you, Lieutenant.ā
Connor paused. āFor your cooperation?ā Hank raised an eyebrow. ā...and for, you know, everything.ā
Hank almost laughed. Connor was saying thank you? To him? Did he have no idea how much he had done for him? Did he not know that he had changed his life for the better? Did he not know that he was the reason he was still standing?
And, well, Hank wasnāt really sure how to express all of those thoughts. Especially in the middle of the night after all that had just taken place.
āYeah, youāre not that bad yourself,ā he settled for, a wide smile spreading across his features. In a quick moment, Connor caught the glint in Hankās eyes.
Warmth, his sensors reminded him. It glowed inside of him and filled him with this... feeling. Perhaps it was what humans described as love.
Connor liked love, he decided then and there. Maybe being human wasnāt all that bad.
Hope you guys liked it! :)
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