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Pinocchio

Summary:

The Tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/fancattts-fiction
Special Agent Y/F/N Y/L/N has been called in to work with the Detroit police to act as a counterterrorism advisor and investigator. A robotic, logical thinker, she finds herself caught off guard by the relationship she begins to build with another robotic, logical thinker: Connor, the android sent by CyberLife. As their friendship deepens and their story grows, they find something in one another that neither of them has ever had.

This story begins at Stratford Tower and continues along with the rest of the game. I'm experimenting a little bit with a 2nd person/3rd person mixed-perspective. This is my second story on AO3, so if you're unsure of whether or not you will like my style, feel free to check out Purgatory.

Notes:

Hey friends!

I'm excited to debut my second fiction! I've had this idea banging (wink) around in my head for a few weeks. I've been playing the game for a hot minute now, and I'm absolutely in love with it. I hope I can share that love with you guys...

Enjoy!
-S

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter 1: Chance of Survival

Chapter Text

You walked into Stratford Tower with your eyes level, footsteps silent, strides wide. Your heart rate was even. Your breathing was calm.

You walked into Stratford Tower like you had a secret.

Voices buzzed around you, men and women in plastic suits worked to scan the first floor. Yellow markers littered the smooth tile. At the entrance, at the desk, by the hallway. The whole place was ablaze with commotion. Employees were being herded towards the exit while androids were taken to another room. You did a self-check despite knowing you were prepared. Somewhere, you heard someone crying.

Badge, holster, gun, stunner, scanner, wallet, phone…

This series of previously checked boxes ran through your head as you made your way to the elevator. Three people joined you, probably headed up to give reports or continue their own investigations. You wondered if one of them was doing fingerprints, and if they’d been re-assigned yet. The edges of your lips turned up slightly.

Androids…

The elevator launched to the top floor of the building. The two suited people to your right were making notes on their tablets, cross checking photos and written reports, while the other teetered from foot to foot nervously. You examined his shoes, his hands, and his neck. He looked like a naked man who was standing on a frozen lake: unprepared to swim, but more importantly, unprepared to freeze. You wanted to offer him a word of advice, but you couldn’t sympathize with him.

“You ought to be writing.” You asked him. He turned to you, startled.

“I’m sorry?”

“Reporters usually record everything. It helps create an environment for the reader to engage with.”

“How did you-“

Before he could finish, the elevator doors opened and you stepped out, not bothering to let him finish. You walked slowly, examining the hallway. A few bodies lay on the ground, surrounded by pairs of forensics investigators. They swabbed and picked and pried like vultures. You figured it best to observe and continue. You took note of the nature in which everyone was killed, noting as well the number of cameras, screens, chairs, entrances, and blood stains.

Blue blood…

You knelt down briefly to inspect a pool of it before continuing through the small two-doored entrance hallway. Your eyes fell immediately on the screen through the doorway. You took another look at the room, cataloguing the evidence, before walking in. The face of an android, unmasked, was frozen above you. It wore an employee’s uniform, which you knew immediately did not belong to it. You were unusually drawn in, finding your feet moving without your mind telling them to do so. Its eyes were different colors, its LED gone. And its face… It wasn’t default. It was individual.

“There she is, Christ, Y/L/N, you couldn’t get here any slower could you.” A voice behind you pulled you from your thoughts. You turned to see Richard Perkins sauntering in your direction. His hands were in his pockets, his chin down. He looked upset, but then again, he always looked upset.

“I’m sorry, I got here as quickly as possible. I was working on a case in Manhattan when they called me.”

“Manhattan? Why?”

“I can’t divulge that information to you, Perkins.”

“Still running then, huh? Shame. No good keeping you here, then,” he stood in front of you now, arms crossed.

“I passed it off to a colleague in Washington. I’m all yours.”

He scoffed, “I get it, you’re in high-demand.”

You waved off his sarcastic comment. “Are we working with DPD on this?”

He leaned back on his heels, “Straight to business, alright. Let me take you on a tour. And, yes, unfortunately. We don’t have the resources here to be able to conduct a full investigation without their assistance,” he air-quoted the word ‘assistance,’ enunciating it. You followed him around the room and he took you through each piece of evidence, allowing you to put together what happened without any bias. The situation came to you with ease, and you found yourself understanding quickly why it was so important to investigate with haste.

“And the roof?” You asked, seeing the corner door wide open. 

“We’re still picking things apart up there. If you want to take a look, I’d do it now. Any minute, some guys from-“

“Agent Perkins!” He turned away from you, his attention drawn by a young officer on the other side of the room. He walked over, and you watched as he greeted an older man and an android. The man, who you assumed to be a detective, wore a tattered pair of jeans and a blue and orange striped button down. His beard was untrimmed, hair barely combed. 

Beside him stood a mirror opposite. A young, dark haired android (who was being insulted by Perkins at the moment). He had dark brown eyes and, from what you could see at this distance, a coin, which he twirled in his hand. You wondered why he did this.

Since when do I call androids ‘he’?

The lapse in your usual android pronouns shocked even yourself. Something about this once was different…

Your head tilted to the side as you approached, letting your eyes wander over the RK800. You’d never seen this kind of model before.

“…androids investigating androids, great.” Perkins rolled his eyes, letting out a weary sigh.

“Interesting, isn’t it,” you added as you stepped towards the group. Their eyes all landed on you. “Almost like humans investigating humans.”

The android smiled, but quickly hid it as the older man introduced himself.

“I’m Lieutenant Hank Anderson,” he nodded towards you.

“Special Agent Y/F/N Y/L/N. I’m here on behalf of the BAU.”

“That’s Behavioral Analysis Unit, Lieutenant,” Perkins noted, his tone revealing his emotions. The Lieutenant rolled his eyes.

You shifted so that you were facing the android, flickering your eyes over its face and shoulders. “And this?”

“My name is Connor, I’m the android sent by CyberLife,” he perked up. He ran his eyes over your face, scanning quickly. 

Y/F/N Y/M/N Y/L/N

     Born MM/DD/YYYY. 

          Height. 

          5’8”

          Weight. 

          138

     Measurements.

          Size 7.5 shoe

          36-29-37 {(#&!^@%)}

Career: Federal Bureau of Investigation: Behavioral Analysis Unit: Counterterrorism: Negotiator, Psychologist, Analyst, Investigator

Parents:

     Mother: Location {???}, Birthplace {Monterey, CA}, Deceased

          Deceased: Buried at Cedar Grove Cemetery

     Father: Location {California}, Birthplace {Portland, ME}, Living

“I’ve never seen your model before.”

“I’m a prototype.”

“Peculiar,” you noted the flash of yellow as his LED processed something. For some reason, it made your mouth a little dry. You blinked, returning your attention to the Lieutenant. “I imagine you understand the situation?”

“I haven’t had the chance to get a good look at the room, but yes,” he gestured to the screen, “Crazy shit…”

“An accurate assessment, Lieutenant,” Connor said. His eyes shifted to you quickly enough to catch your smile.

“Shouldn’t you be lickin’ the floor or some shit?” Anderson spat. Connor nodded, then proceeded to make his way around the room similar to how you had. You took out your tablet and checked the evidence, making sure you hadn’t missed anything. Seeing that you hadn’t, you decided to make your way up to the roof. 

As you walked to the door, you watched Connor work. He moved in a determined and mechanic manner, the brown tuft of hair above his forehead swaying with every movement, his hands working diligently. You stared as he knelt down to inspect a puddle of blue blood on the ground near the rooftop door. He dipped his fingers into it, then placed them delicately into his mouth. His LED turned yellow.

“Fucking disgusting, isn’t it…” The Lieutenant trudged up beside you.

“He’s analyzing the evidence, finding the model of the android?”

“Or so he says.”

Connor stood and made his way over to you.

“I don’t kink shame,” you added with a smirk before stepping through the rooftop doorway and making your way up the stairs.

Something about the way your hips swayed as you walked up warmed Connor’s biocomponents. He watched as you took in the information around you, not bothering to wait for him and Hank as you reached the door to the roof.

Hank chuckled lightly at your comment, “I like this one.”

“I can see why,” he mumbled, his diagnostics running checks to make sure nothing in him was malfunctioning.

The brisk air hit your skin, snow falling lightly. You didn’t bother putting your hood up, knowing it would only hinder your investigative abilities and peripheral. Besides, you could handle a little snow.

Your breath clouded in front of you as you ran your eyes along the roof. You heard the door open and close behind you, two pairs of footsteps followed you onto the concrete. Connor entered your vision, walking forward to examine another pool of blood. Anderson walked to a bag that was lying on the ground.

“Parachutes…” he muttered.

“There’s one left. Someone didn’t make it,” you said as you approached him. You normally didn’t enjoy working with others, but something about these two put you at ease. For once, they seemed to know what they were doing. 

“My thoughts exactly.”

“So then, where’s the other android? There’s no body, and no drag marks.”

He grunted, agreeing with you and processing your question simultaneously. It was then that you noticed Connor had gone out of sight. You stepped carefully around the blood, then walked towards the edge of the roof. The wind was beginning to pick up, it’s chill making your jaw clench and your lips darken. As you stood on the edge of the cliff, the thought of falling came swiftly into your mind. How easy it would be to jump.

“Where do you suppose they landed, Lieutenant?” You shouted over your shoulder, “I don’t know this city too well.”

“I’m not sure, somewhere on a lower building, then maybe they made their way down undetected,” he met you half way as you walked back to the center of the roof. “And call me Hank, sweetheart.”

His old-fashioned mannerisms flattered you. You nodded, smiling. “Certainly seems better that way.”

He hardly had time to think on your double entendre before three gun shots rang out on the roof, one after the other. Immediately, you were in defense mode. You unholstered your gun and crouched down, finding cover behind one of the various metal contraptions. Hank followed you, peaking out before continuing across the roof to where you imagined Connor was located. This all happened within a matter of seconds, and despite your training and your level head, you couldn’t help your pounding heart.

Badge, holster, gun, stunner, scanner, wallet, phone…

More shots echoed through the air, and you followed Hank’s path, ducking behind another metal unit. You peaked over it, seeing Hank and Connor ten feet in front of you, hiding as an Android pointed his gun out from inside a hidden compartment. Hank was speaking to Connor, though you couldn’t hear exactly what he was saying. Connor’s LED was flashing from yellow to red to yellow as he tried to decide what the best approach to the situation was. His eyes met yours for a moment, and something in you, maybe even instinct, made you shake your head. His brown eyes begged you for a solution.

Don’t do it, you thought.

Attack Deviant {???} 

     Hank: 45% Chance of Survival

     Agent Y/L/N: 57% Chance of Survival

     Mission Success: 66%

Stay in Cover

     Hank: 98% Chance of Survival

     Agent Y/L/N: 93% Chance of Survival

     Mission Success: -22%

Charge Deviant

     Hank: 48% Chance of Survival

     Agent Y/L/N: 60% Chance of Survival

     Mission Success: 70%

@3//$78((

     &^##*&@^

You watched as Connor swiveled out from where he was hiding, attacking the deviant and reaching for his arm. Shouts of protest came from Hank, and you knew you should duck for cover, but you couldn’t keep your eyes off the situation. You cocked your gun, preparing to shoot.

Before you could, the deviant put his gun to his chin and pulled the trigger, collapsing against the wall. 

{Memory} J E R I C H O

          #*&#@*&^ *@#&*^$ (*#&$@(*&)

01110100 01101000 01101001 01110011 00100000 01101001 01110011 00100000 01100100 01100101 01100001 01110100 01101000

“Connor! Connor are you alright? Connor!” Hank shouted at him as he left his cover to check on the android. The other agents and officers around you approached with caution. You put your gun on safety and holstered it. You stood, realizing now how tense you’d been. Your shoulders ached.

“Okay…”

“Are you hurt?”

“…I’m okay…” Connor’s voice was shaking. You kept your distance, but watched intently. Something behind your sternum ached.

“Jesus,” Hank took a deep breath. “You scared the shit outta me! For fuck’s sake, I told you not to move. Why do you never do what I say?” He was shouting now, leaving footsteps in the snow from his pacing.

Connor clutched the metal roofed compartment behind him, his back still to you. “I was connected to its memory…” He turned to look at Hank, and you could finally see his eyes. You approached him slowly, your breathing shallow. “When it fired… I felt it die…” He eyes darted around, his lips parted. “Like I was dying.”

Connor…

“I was scared…” He started to stand, regaining his stability. “I saw something in its memory. A word, painted on a piece of rusty metal… ‘Jericho.’”

You put the word in your mind before taking a few steps forward and placing a hand on Connor’s arm. He jumped slightly, before settling at your touch. Your lips parted as your eyes met. You couldn’t find the words.

“Y/L/N, are you alright?” You heard Perkins behind you. 

“I’m fine,” you nodded at him as he walked up to the three of you.

“Good. You’re headed to the station. BAU wants you to stay in Detroit until this is resolved.”

“Why’d they tell you that?”

“I’ll be your supervisor, since you aren’t technically a field agent,” he looked between you and Connor. You let go of his arm, pocketing your hands. “Get used to these guys, Y/L/N. This won’t be the last time you see them.”

You settled your breathing, realizing you were practically panting. Perkins turned his back to you and walked off, signaling for the other agents on the roof to follow. The investigation here was finished.

“You want a ride with us?” Hank’s voice was hoarse, probably from all the yelling he did just now.

“Do you mind?” You looked at the two of them, adrenaline fading. It really was cold out.

“Connor?”

The android was still shaken, but his light had returned to blue. He came down from the cloud he was on, looking you over. The way his eyes raked over you made you forget the bite of the wind as it whipped across the roof.

“I think that’s a good idea,” he said, his voice soft. He smiled weakly.

“Great. Off we go, kids,” Hank said as he walked past the two of you. You followed, keeping a little closer to Connor than you normally would. 

You never felt like you had maternal instincts, but something about this particular situation and this particular android made you want to keep him safe, to keep him out of this mess. Shoving those feeling down, you made your way to the rooftop door, holding it for Connor as he stepped inside. He thanked you quietly.

His arm retained the feeling of your hand, and he wished to himself you’d kept it there. He didn’t know why, but it calmed his mechanics to have you near him in that moment. Surely, that couldn’t be your intention. He was too focused on regaining his composure and relaying the lead he’d found to get a good read on your face. Although, he couldn’t read you very well. According to human standards, he imagined you’d be good at poker.

Connor followed Hank back to the elevators, noting that you were still trailing behind him. Most of the people investigating the scene had left, leaving the room silent except for the echoing sound of footsteps.

You watched as his shoulders swayed, coin in hand. He fiddled with it slowly, like his mind was somewhere else. Was he replaying what had happened in his head? Did androids daydream? Or understand trauma? Was he just processing? You were tempted to ask him these things, but you weren’t sure you wanted those answers, or if he could even give them to you.

Some things just couldn’t be explained.

 

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