pairing: connor (rk800) x reader
summary: he loves you, that’s what he tells himself as he breaks ties with you, but he sees you again years later realizing how much of a fool he was.
wc: 1.9k+
genre: slightly angsty, kind of depresso, a tiny bit of fluff at the beginning
@jhiddles03, this one’s for you. thank you for your support!
Connor watched with you a fascination that could be found whenever he watched you type away in concentration. Your eyes narrowed into slants, head pressed further into the screen, eyebrows furrowed, and a few creases appeared on your forehead. Connor’s LED turned yellow. There were more and more creases popping up on your forehead the longer the two of you were together. He made a note to research it and found the most common ail was just a result of getting older, something that had started to swirl in Connor’s head more than he liked to admit.
He adored you, there was no question in that and would be around you for as long as you would allow him to be, but he could not help the images playing out in his head. Images of you becoming like Hank; older, less mobile, having other complications related to your health. Then his mind wandered to the types of emotional stress you would be facing at the time; despair, stuck in reminiscence, questioning of ultimate life decision.
Connor never imagined that he would be sitting here, watching you interact with the other officers, seeing you smile and never once bask in its greatness, look over how beautiful and carefree your face was, but instead create an image of what you looked older. Instead of smiling with you (or attempting to) he would frown and feel a pang in the bottom of his chest. He was starting to face the reality that he was most likely going to outlive you and things would get complicated.
You needed someone who shared the same life experience you did, someone who you could grow old with, someone who could understand what it is like to age and none of those described him. Connor would get old in the sense that time had passed since his creation, but he would not age, not like all living things did; he was not alive.
He was a machine, one made out of wires, manufactured skin, and blue blood that pumped through his artificial veins by a mechanical, inorganic heart. How did he deserve to love you? How did he ever deserve someone so beautiful and real and alive? Someone who treated him like he was alive, like he was someone who was worthy of love when clearly he was not.
He loved you, there was no question in that. Deviancy - empathy - made sure that he knew a variety of emotions and he had experienced a lot since becoming deviant, one of the most powerful and irrational of all was of course love. He also knew that when it came to love, there was no capacity for selfishness. Whenever it came to you, this warm feeling would blossom and take over everything he thought of before, and soon, there would be no room for focusing on only him, it was now all about you.
One time, you were in danger, he was there in a heartbeat, it didn’t matter what he was doing currently, he just saw you, only thought of you, everything else in the world fell away. He could not be selfish, it just wasn’t possible.
Now, you were standing up, walking over to him like a angel from heaven, words pouring from your lips, but he wasn’t listening to what you were saying; he was memorizing your face, the way you walk, how your eyes sparkled.
He cared for you, there was no question in that, but he kept thinking about how this was going to hurt you.
4 Days Later
“(y/n), I have something to tell you.” You and Connor were walking down the streets enjoying the scenery, the leaves falling around you, the wind playing with your hair, the kids giggling as they chased each other on the way home from school. His LED was red and anxiety ran through your mind, grabbing and pulling your thoughts with it.
“What’s wrong?” Eyes wide, you watched him as he brushed his hands through your hair, playing with the strands, admiring its softness one last time. He was sad, he was familiar with that emotion as it spread, already feeling regret without having done anything regrettable yet. His tear ducts threaten to well up.
“I don’t think we should continue seeing each other.” He watched your eyes flash in surprise, taking a step back from him, withdrawing yourself.
“Connor, what’s wrong with you?” He was breaking your heart, he could see it in your eyes, and it was breaking his - the heart he knew he didn’t have.
“I don’t believe I am a good fit for you.” He watched your eyes darken and become filled with something he could not put his finger on. You took a breath and tried again.
“Why? Did I do something wrong?”
“No!” He broke out, astonished you would say something like that, how could you think that it was your fault? “You are wonderful, I guess you could say something along the lines of, it’s not you, it’s me.”
“Connor, you’re not making a bit sense, what happened?”
“Goodbye, (y/n).” He pressed a kiss to your cheek and bristly meandered his way down the street.
“Connor! Connor!” You called him but he never responded. Your eyes welled up and you turned around, hugging your arms closer to yourself, and walked away, walked away from the love of your life, walked away from the person you thought you’d spend forever with, walked away from three years of a relationship down the drain. Your throat refused to stop constricting, no matter how much you told it not to, and the autumn chill didn’t help you stop your eyes from blurring. Soon, you couldn’t make out the pattern of the leaves, couldn’t make out the cracks in the sidewalk, couldn’t make out how to tell up from down. All you knew was this intense weight on your chest and this heavy feeling in your heart.
3 Years Later
Connor still did not stop thinking about you, even when 36 months, one thousand ninety days-five days, and twenty-six thousand two hundred and eighty hours had passed since last seeing your face. His brain would not stop replaying his last conversation with you, the way you reacted, the way your face broke, the ways your eyes shifted. He was still reeling from his decision and he still questioned if it was the correct one.
“Connor!” Hank’s voice cut through his thoughts.
“Yes, Lieutenant?”
“Do me a favor and run to the store and grab some beer. Football’s coming on soon.”
“Right away.” Connor wasted no time in making his way to the store, fighting through the snow as he trudged all the way up to the bright, fluorescent lighting that greeted him at the door. He knew there were remnants of snow left in his hair, but he let them sit, let the white flakes melt into his individual strands. He could not tell you why he found this phenomenon so fascinating but was one of the many quirks he acquired over the years.
Making his way to the alcohol section, he paused at a pack, one that he knew was Hank’s favorite. Removing it from the shelf, he plodded his way towards the front. Suddenly, his heart froze and his mind stopped. Could it be? Could it really be you? His LED turned yellow as you walked through the vegetables and fruits, picking up a few special ones for a closer inspection. His heartbeat quickened; he missed you. He missed your smile, missed the way you would bury your face in his neck when you held him, missed the way your eyes sparkled when he would come to pick you up. He missed everything about you.
It was as if you felt his longing through the connection the two of you shared even after you broke up, as you immediately snapped your gaze to his. You too froze in your spot, standing ridged and blinking multiple times to confirm that was who you saw.
Connor did not know what came over him, but his feet moved on their own accord, pulled by an energy you gave off that he could not resist. He found himself face to face with you, unsure of what to say but sure of one thing; he was still unapologetically in love with you. He wished to tell you how many times you came to his mind, how many times his thoughts would drift back to you, how many times he realized that no matter how much denied it, he should have never broken up with you that November day.
“Hi, Connor.” You smiled. Your voice sounded like the sweetest, most beautiful musical composition that he had ever heard. God, androids were not supposed to make mistakes, but he made a huge one when it came to you.
He opened his mouth, but nothing came out, instead a younger voice perked up. “Mommy, Mommy, can I get these twedy grawms?” A toddler attached themself to your leg and you bent down to pick them up, gently prying the box from their hands.
“Sure thing, my love.” You bopped the little boy on the nose. The toddler took notice of Connor and immediately clammed up. His wide, innocent eyes inspecting the strange man but never saying anything. You picked up on the change in his behavior and stroked his hair. “It’s okay, this is Connor, he’s a good friend of mine.”
Friend. Not the word Connor was hoping for and he felt it like a punch in the gut. Connor finally found some form of coherent communication and let a smile take his features. “Hello.” He waved at the child and the child shyly smiled back.
He looked to you, “Is he yours?”
“He is,” You nodded watching the child inspect Connor. “He’s my pride and joy.” You turned your warm eyes to his and saw him staring at the ring on your ring finger.
Connor came over to you intending to tell you how much he loved you and how sorry he was, but all these words were dying on the way to his tounge the longer he looked at you. He did not know what this weight in his chest was, what the tightening of his throat was, what the moisture in his tear ducts was, but he had a suspicion that it all related back to how he could not bring himself to truly pour his heart out to you.
“I’m going to get going, Lieutenant Anderson requests his beer be delivered by the time the game starts.” Connor watched you put the toddler down in the basket. Your hair swung around as you faced him and he felt his throat tighten even more, he could still feel your soft hair between his fingertips.
“Okay, well it was good seeing you again. Say hi to Hank for me. Get home safe.”
He turned away to keep you from seeing his eyes become consumed with tears. “You too. Goodbye.”
He trudged away from his missed opportunity, his one true love, his world; you. And as he made his way out of the grocery store that day, he knew this emotion, whatever it was, was not going to leave anytime soon, only lodging itself deeper into his body. His throat constricted and a sob tore through his lungs for the first time in his life as he wondered what could have, should have, would have been.
