Break the muse: Hank died last night...
BREAK MY CHARACTER’S HEART WITH ONE ASK BOX MESSAGE
Connor frowned at the news. He had sensed something was wrong, but had been sure it was just a matter of his programming still adjusting to him actually having a will of his own. Then when he had been called in to Fowler’s office he instantly knew something was going on. Normally he would hardly even be noticed at the precinct - he was just Hank’s android partner. Then the news came.
“I should have followed him home. It is my fault, Captain.” He kept his head held high and just looked at Fowler, waiting for any kind of response. He didn’t get any, just some mumbling that they weren’t sure what to do with the android now. Honestly Connor didn’t care.
He walked back out of the office, slowly finding his way to Hank’s desk, looking over all the stickers. Some of the anti-android ones had been removed, but maybe he hadn’t thought about the rest. Maybe he had still been waiting to be fully convinced. It was too late now.
He leaned over the desk, placing both of his hands on it for support. His eyes were twitching dealing with the information while his stress level raised rapidly to a point where he started shaking. His LED flashing red. He couldn’t be here. He would end up attracting too much attention.
It was almost impossible getting his legs to move. He had to focus on every step and even then he felt like he was only inches away of a temporary shutdown. He wouldn’t be able to make it out, so instead he changed his direction and barged into an empty interrogation room. He let himself glide down along the wall, until he just sat there looking emptily ahead. His fingers moved down his torso until they reached the place his thirium pump regulator was located.
He was designed to be able to work with anyone, but Hank had changed all that. The lieutenant had made him feel.. human. What was the point of all that now? All he had wanted was to show Hank, that he could be a good partner even though he was an android and he had finally gotten his acceptance. He had finally been able to draw smiles out of the depressed man.
Hank couldn’t be replaced. He couldn’t just have his memory uploaded. He was gone for good. Gone forever.
“I’m sorry, Hank.” His fingers tapped the pump, but then he moved his hand again. What would the point be if they were just going to reassemble him?
