You stared at the holographic report in front of you, contemplative.

August 15, 2038. Model PL600 Serial #369 911 047 Deviant successfully deactivated. Hostage: Emma Phillipses rescued and safe. No other casualties caused. Mission Successful.

Your lips turned down at the last statement, you huffing in frustration.

Yes, Connor's first mission as well as trial was a success. But the cost. The cost was far too great. At least for you. CyberLife however. . .

Instead of him calmly reasoning with the Deviant Android, who holds the name Daniel, Connor just rushed forward without a care for his life which caused him to get shot in the back of the head due to Daniel being pushed off from the terrace rooftop. He got shot and killed, he managed to rescue the poor girl, Emma, safely but you imagine she'll be forever scarred at these turn of events.

Her favorite android, turning on her as a result of her parents wishing for the newest model, Daniel killing her own father. And as another android comes to the rescue, dies right over her with blue blood coming out right out of his head and slowly dripping upon the floor. Her own face covered with the residue of thirium.

You bit the nail of your thumb, thinking. The only one within this medium sized white and silver room filled with android parts and blue blood spills as well as monitors that display countless information in the room.

The other models...they're not ready yet. At least not for you. You've become fond of prototype 1, specifically #313 248 317(-51), he was after all the first but he's gone. Impossible to reactivate by normal means at an android repair shop. His memories can also just be uploaded to another model, but since you didn't update the feature for him to do that automatically if there's danger for himself, the memories he gained during this mission will be foggy at best and completely erased at worst. The actions he took, all the evidence, him helping that officer when he didn't have to, and of course. . .

You chuckled slightly. Him helping that flopping innocent fish upon the ground and putting it back into its tank.

You like this Connor, his eccentricities and determination to find the possible cause on why PL600 went Deviant instead of just going on ahead and negotiate his way to rescue the young girl. It was...different from his programmed diction.

You liked it.

That's why, you turned your skillful (e/c) eyes towards the operation desk that held the deactivated Connor still with that blasted hole in his head, you're going to get him back. You snapped your fingers, holographic displays appearing in front of you immediately, holding charts as well as the memory file you managed to make a copy of from you observing Connor with his recording lens in his irises.

You went to work.

After all, you aren't a normal android repairman. But one of the top programmers and workers within the CyberLife Tower, with biocomponents of your making surrounding you and processors along with other top notch technology ready to be used.

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"You can't do that again, alright? There were other ways for that mission to succeed, and you dying wasn't one of them Connor. Tell me you won't do that again."

Connor blinked slowly. "Doctor, I did what I was created to do. My protocols are to succeed in any mission no matter the cost as long as it doesn't hinder the mission's success. And I cannot die, for I'm not alive." He tilted his head, brows furrowing with LED blinking blue. "You should know that best, since you're my creator."

You looked at him, frowning.

It was a constant back and forth ever since he woke up. You immediately greeted him as you always did, although you did it in a mix of relief and exasperation, with him returning it albeit a lot more bewildered as he sat up from the operating table. Surprised that all is functional and that there isn't a hole between his eyes anymore.

This showed you that he was aware that he 'died', or what others would like to call, permanent deactivation, but you weren't sure if he felt it. When you questioned him about it, he gave the same response that he did just now about him not being able to die. He did confess however that he felt nothing, comforting you that small memory file was successfully taken out by you and not placed within him.

But perhaps you should have left it in, only for him to learn. You narrowed your eyes.

"Uh huh." Connor's LED blinked at the lazy answer, brown eyes looking up and down at you.

"Scanning. . . You seem troubled Doctor. Does it have to do with my needed deactivation and the work that you had put in for me to successfully reactivate?"

"Connor," You put a hand to your face."I've already told you don't have to say 'scanning' or vocalize any other action that you have in accordance to your advanced abilities. And of course I'm not upset that I had to fix you—wait." You put your hand down, and looked at him, putting a hand to his chin as you leaned closer to his head, moving it back and forth as you started muttering. "You weren't like this at the crime scene. . . that memory of my advice must've been lost. . . damn." Connor let you do as you pleased, only frowning at your increasing worry.

"Everything alright Doctor? I'll remember from now on so don't fret, your stress levels are getting higher then normal again." He said, moving his mouth even if you still held his chin to examine him. You were sure the whole situation was ridiculous, you holding his chin as you muttered to yourself by his face and him moving his chin along anyways. He's still awkward socially.

You snorted, releasing him with an amused smile on your lips.

"You forgot that I told you to just call me (Y/N) as well Connor. Funny how you remember my stress levels arise a lot but not my advice or wishes." You crossed your arms at him, leaning against one of your many white and sleek workshop tables. "You at least remember what that coin I gave is for right?"

Connor straightened, putting both hands in front of his lower half in attention.

"Yes. It's to increase my focus and attention as well as assist in me running diagnostics to check all systems are up and functioning. Although," he paused, still having that slight furrow of his brow that shows he simply cannot comprehend a certain subject. He mostly makes that face when you're trying to explain something to him about social norms or emotions.

He tries so hard to understand. Dork.

"Although," he began again ever so serious, "I don't think it would be appropriate for me to call you by your name, Doctor. Nor do I get how a 1994 Edition United States Quarter can help either."

You couldn't help it, you laughed. You don't think you'll ever get used to his seriousness, and you were the one that created him! You don't want to tell him the real reason on why you gave him the coin either, not yet.

Once you finished, you gave him a serene smile. "It's alright, Connor. Come on. Say it with me. (Y/N)." You said your name slowly, motioning your hand towards him for him to go.

"Doctor (Y/N)."

He moved towards when he first greeted you at least, but you want to see if he'll push himself to step away from the professional line towards a closer friendly one.

"(Y/N)," you said again, grinning at him eagerly and patiently.

He rose a brow at you. "Doctor (Y/N)." He said again, ever so professional and clear.

You sighed and turned towards your workshop to continue working on the Connor series many biocompenents and thirium pump regulators.

"Fine, fine, you win Connor. Happy?"

"I wasn't aware we were holding a competition or game in the first place. Nonetheless, I'm sorry if your loss saddens you." He replied quickly, not missing a beat.

You smiled to yourself at his answer, he still has a lot to learn. But it's alright. You'll help him along the way, at least before— your smile fell from your lips, pausing in your movements of assembling a biocomponent. Before CyberLife releases him to the wolves once more for deviancy cases, which won't take long for another to come forth. You've noticed yourself that more and more deviant androids have been appearing, mostly about ones going missing. CyberLife did not care about the handful of androids suddenly gaining the ability to feel, but it's steadily increasing. . . you keep your thoughts on why to yourself, knowing the answer is due to those who have red blood pumping their veins yet act like monsters.

He has to be ready. You clenched your hand around the biocomponent, biting your lip. He has to.

"Doctor (Y/N)?" Connor took you out of your dark thoughts, causing you to turn your head at him although there was no need since he came up next to you. At your look, he continued. "You never truly answered my question, you used the word 'die' when I'm not even alive. You created me with metal and thirium, I don't have a heart that beats. Nor can I ever truly be vanquished like the normal human can. I can come back, like I did with your valuable assistance." He picked up a biocomponent, #8456w, showing it to you as if that could assist you, like you don't know what's he's saying already. Like you're a child in need of visual aid.

"I'm a machine. Easily replaceable. You can make another one quickly with your extraordinary work ethic and your insistence to not get needed sleep for your baggy eyes—"

"Hey!"

"So you should be able to not put too much emotional attachment towards me," he pointedly ignored your yell of protest. "So, why?"

A few moments of silence passed, you gazing deeply towards Connor with him doing the same with those always furrowed brows.

He tries so hard, you thought in a mix of pride and somberness. Connor, if only you knew.

You grabbed the biocomponent from his hand, placing it down towards the table before grabbing his hand with your own. You placed his hand, splayed across his chest and you held it there, looking up at him pointedly. He looked down, gazing at their hands that held different colors underneath their skin, then peered down at you. LED light processing yellow.

"What do you feel?" You said, pressing his hand further into his chest. "Inside. What do you sense?"

Connor looked down, then closed his eyes. LED still processing yellow. "I feel, I feel my pump regulator."

You released a small smile, looking at him softly.

"Yes, good Connor. What is it doing? What do you feel that's it's doing?"

"It's..." he opened his eyes, soft earth looking at you as he frowned. LED back to a dark blue. "It's pumping. It pumps thirium throughout my body. I don't understand."

So lost, Connor.

You weren't looking at him anymore, but at their hands. They appear the same, you rubbed your thumb on the back of his hand, they feel the same. Others do not see what you see.

Your (e/c) eyes, always so focused and yet so free, examined two different hands together. You imagined another world, saw another world where touches between android and human were kind and gentle. Of peace and unity.

You imagined. But it is not so, for this isn't that world.

"It beats, Connor." You corrected in the softest of whispers. "Your chest beats. Like mine."

You flicked your eyes towards his, and like you thought, his expression was one contorted into that innocent confusion. One that you always wish to assist to erase from his face. For it to stop and actually make those wide childlike eyes understand, to see.

"Thats why I want you to promise me, please Connor." You continued, pleading. " For me. Avoid death at all costs. Accomplish missions without you sacrificing your life."

"I-I don't understand, Doctor (Y/N)." He stepped back, LED yellow, as you put your hand back to your side.  "A heart beats. I don't have one. I cannot promise you that wish, but I-I will do my best."

You looked at him, then turned towards your equipment. Face hidden.

"Right. Thank you. Maybe one day then." You swiped your face and your hair in one motion, and breathed deeply. "Alright, come on Connor. Help me with a few of these. Tomorrow we'll go in an outing." You picked up a random biocomponent and began tinkering with it, distracting yourself.

You ignored eyes burning at the side of your face, and Connor said nothing else about your odd behavior. Only releasing his tie and giving it to you. You blinked and took it, looking towards him as he examined the many pieces that were within him at this moment, LED a calm blue.

"Your ducts were releasing water. I'm not a caretaker or an AX400, but I hope that will do in comforting you."

You glanced back down towards the tie, and you released a secret smile.

Not all is lost within you then, Connor.

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This will be a short story. Filled with angst. My own take at ra9 since I couldn't find enough evidence yet for it in videos, as well as many other things.

I hope you guys enjoy. This story will be at the most...6 or 8 chapters.

Please comment and vote and leave your support.