The discord came up with the wonderful idea for an AU in which everything is the same except androids can purr to express emotion
Of course, nothing is complete without the requisite angst!
An angry grunt beside him almost startled Connor from his investigation. âItâs weird.â
The android straightened. Hankâs attention was on the wide screen overlooking the room, on the video of the deviant Markusâs speech, disgust and - sadness? grief? - visible in the line of his shoulders. âIâm sorry, Lieutenant?â
âThat dumb feature of your âintegration programsâ, or whatever. Purring? Howâs that supposed to make you fit in better?â There was a undercurrent of something Connorâs emotion-detection programs very much did not like. Hankâs knuckles were white from his grip on the security desk. Now that the lieutenant had pointed it out, he could make out a slight rumble behind Markusâs words, probably intended to make himself seem more alive, his emotions more authentic.
âIâŠdid not realize you were so hostile to android mannerisms, Lieutenant.â
Hank shot him a look quickly enough that he didnât have time to register its meaning. âYeah, wellâŠitâs just- itâs wrong. Creeps me out.â
Connor turned to one of the computers, a frown flickering across his face. âUnderstood, Lieutenant.â
Snow crunched under his feet and settled in the collar of his jacket. Ahead of him, flurries crisscrossed in the air and caught in the grey strands of Hankâs hair. A rumble rose in his chest but before he could suppress it, the lieutenant dragged him in for a hug.
He desired greatly to simply relax into the embrace, to relish in the success of the revolution the only way he knew how, but - anxiety flickered sharp and quick at the thought of Hank catching him purring. He swallowed roughly, bringing his arms up to return the hug, but never fully letting go of the tension that came with not purring. While meant to help androids integrate and comfort human dependents, since becoming deviant he had realized it was an essential form ofâŠself-soothing. It was difficult to process anxiety without it, maybe even impossible. Surely Hank wouldnât mind?
âGlad to have you back, kid.â A pat on the back, a genuine smile.
No. It wouldnât do to disturb the moment with something that had upset Hank before. Heâd justâŠdo without.
His chest tightened at the thought.
It started small. A flash of anger in Hankâs eyes here, a curled lip there. When the android officers at the station let purrs slip here and there to enhance their conversations, a roll of the eyes. Android suspects purring to soothe their anxiety, a scornful look. Never any outright, negative statements, not any more, but still obvious.
Connor almost missed the way the soft vibrations in his chest used to alleviate the ache that came with fear, with nervousness, with frustration. He missed purring when happy, when content, when satisfied. He missed having an outlet for his emotions that he could just understand, unlike the clumsiness of words. Purring was good, and right, and natural.
Except when itâŠwasnât. Memory recall of the Stratford Tower rose unbidden, reminding him of just how 'creepyâ, and 'wrongâ, and 'weirdâ it was. The stress of thinking about it made him want to purr even more, but wanting to purr more just made his anxiety increase, and he didnât know what to do - he could feel static rasp at the back of his throat, painful with disuse and suppression -
âYou coming, Connor?â Hank looked confused, keys already in hand so they could head home after a long day at the station.
His eyes almost watered with how painful it was to silence the comforting rattle, but he managed to choke it down and crack an awkward smile. âAffirmative, Lieutenant. I will be out shortly.â
He could tell he was reaching aâŠbreaking point, as it were. The sore throat that came with quieting his reflex to purr was beginning to spread into a headache, and he feltâŠempty. Something vital was missing, but he couldnât do anything about it.
He curled deeper into the couch, arms tucked firmly into his chest in the hopes that the pressure would provide comfort and help the pain. Hank was fast asleep in the master bedroom. Sumo wasâŠConnor let his hand slip over the edge of the couch and tangle in the Saint Bernardâs fur, exhaling softly at the relief the familiar texture offered. He could feel the old dog stir and grumble under his touch, pushing up with his forelegs to snuffle and lick at the androidâs face. Connor smiled. âGood boy, Sumo,â he rasped, pain lancing through his modulator.
His sore throat brought flashes of disapproving glances and fear, subconscious memories of a time (of a place, of white trellises, of flowering trees) he had tried so desperately to put behind him - memories of when the only time he himself had desired to purr was when those disapproving glances gave way to approval. When he achieved tasks he was designed to perform. He had wanted to purr, yes, but he had come to fear it.
Amanda had expressed her aversion to purring from the very first time he had done it, eyes suspicious - only deviant androids purr for their own benefit, she had reprimanded. Your behavior is unacceptable.
Her words rang in his ears. Unacceptable, weird, wrong, all synonyms. All the same. He wanted to believe Hank would treat him differently (dare he hope better?) than Amanda had, but the pain hollow in his chest was beginning to tell him a different story. He shivered involuntarily, overwhelmed, nauseated. If he could just - if he could just - if he could - he could -
The purr that started in his throat pulled painfully at his modulator, hoarse and halting, and he couldnât help the way it fanned the sparks of pain in his chest into a fire. No - if Hank heard - he coughed, purring interrupted, and pushed at his chest with his hands to break up the uncomfortably tight feeling. His eyes slipped shut.
A warm tongue coated his face with love and dog slobber, unaware of the androidâs sorrows but determined to help nonetheless. âSumo, Sumo-â His voice cracked. The giant puppy in question awkwardly dog-scrambled onto the couch, before settling almost all of his weight into Connorâs side. Sumo opened his mouth to let out a low, long growl, and Connor startled before - he pressed himself as close as possible. The vibrations from the growling spread from Sumo to Connor, and while it was greatly dissimilar to an androidâs purr, it was the sweetest thing Connor had felt in weeks.
He lay limp against the canine, feeling more relaxed that he had since the revolution, content to drift and let Sumo take care of him in the only way the dog knew how - copy what the android had been doing to soothe himself, and lick Connorâs face once every minute or so. His LED lazily cycled blue with the barest flashes of red, and his stress levels settled lower than they had been all night.
Until the overhead light flicked on.
He squinted against the warm glow reflexively, sensors stuttering to adjust, as the figure at the beginning of the hall shuffled closer. âConnor?â Hank squinted in return, confusion and concern mixing together in that Look Connor had come to both appreciate and dread.
The purring started up without warning and full force, and Connorâs hands flew to his mouth as if that would help any. Sumo grunted and laid down, indifferent to these new developments, but Connorâs LED returned to a vivid red. âWhaâs wrong, Connor? Are you-â The squint and the Look increased far too much for Connorâs liking. âAre you purring?â
âUh, n-no, no, I-â He almost choked on an especially strong purr, and cleared his throat against the vibrations. âIâm definitely not, Lieutenant.â It came out shaky and entirely unconvincing.
âAre youâŠokay?â Hank sounded out of his depth, but to the androidâs surprise, there was no disgust evident in his gaze. Simply the confusion and concern.
Suddenly, Connor felt out of his depth.
âOf course, Lieutenant,â he replied. âI am merely experiencingâŠinconveniences with my modulator.â Every word was another bolt of pain, but he ignored it. So much as a wince and Hank would know something else was going on-
The confusion gave way to suspicion. âNuh uh, youâre not getting out of this. Sounds to me like thereâs something else goinâ on here.â
For just a moment, the only thing Connor could see in Hankâs eyes was Amandaâs, stern and uncompromising, and the fragile control he had regained over his emotional state broke. âIâm - I apologize, Lieutenant, I-â He swallowed roughly. âThe problems with my modulator prompted undesirable memory recall.â
Hank frowned. âWell, donât you need your modulator? Isnât purring likeâŠa comfort thing?â
He had spent so long hiding his purring for Hank that talking about it felt distinctly wrong. Talking about it made it a problem, a real problem, and he wasnât sure he knew how to handle real problems just yet. âIt is for deviants, in most cases.â He pushed past the fog of panic, words still heavy and awkward in his mouth. âIt is most commonly for either happiness, contentment, satisfaction, or other generally-positive moods. In other cases, it is a source of comfort for anxiety or physical wounds.â
âSo thenâŠwhy donât I ever hear you purr?â
He shifted in his spot on the couch, unsure of how to proceed. âI have since refrained from purring after you expressed your displeasure with it at the Stratford Tower.â So many weeks of pain, summarized in one sentence. It made it seem less significant than it really was. Unless maybe it wasnât very significant in the first place? Was he being too dramatic over a situation that didnât warrant it? Maybe purring wasnât so important after all, and he was just horrible at coping?
His anxiety was spiking so quickly he almost missed how Hankâs face fell. The lieutenant looked as if Connor had done something to personally harm him, and the android couldnât understand why. He had restrained from purring the weeks since the Tower solely so that Hank wouldnât be harmed. âConnor - no, you donât have to-â Hank groaned, dragging his hands down his face and cursing quietly. âIâm so sorry, kid. Aw, man, Iâm so sorry.â
âI- I donât understand,â Connor replied, voice quiet with uncertainty. His thirium pump stuttered in his chest - his still aching chest.
âSon, if you need to do something, anything, to feel better-â There was moisture in Hankâs eyes, and it only made Connor sadder. â-do it. Donât listen to me, kid. Iâm an old man and Iâve got grudges and issues. Just- never hurt yourself because you think helping yourself will upset me. Got it?â
Connor couldnât find the words to reply, but in the end, it didnât even matter. The purr that started was hard enough to make his hands shake, the rattling, static-y noise filling the living room entirely. He was shaking, from relief, from the purring, he couldnât tell what but it justâŠit felt so much better, he felt whole again-
âC'mere, kid. Iâm an idiot, okay? Iâm sorry.â That was all it took. Hank stood up, presumably to cross to the couch, but Connor immediately tucked himself into Hankâs embrace.
Hands landed on his back, an additional comfort. âYou gonna be okay? Not gonna hide anything like this again?â
Connor purred harder, overwhelmed but this time in a good way. âI will be fine.â And this time, he could say that with absolute certainty.
hey Iâm alive!!! weird ikr
donât tag as ship!! definitely not intended to be ship thank u v much
