Chapter Text
Connor Anderson- oh how your parents hated him. You were the heir to a multi-million dollar company and he was a good-for-nothing who smoked too many cigarettes and drove a motorcycle that no normal teenager would be seen with. The gated community all knew about him, the ‘troubled’ kid who was the sole survivor of a car crash that took the lives of both his father and brother.
You met him for the first time when you escaped home one night, while he was running an errand for the local noodle shop.
“I haven’t seen you around here, you lost?”
“I’m trying to get away.”
“It’s not really safe at this time of night. I mean, I’m just a stranger but I don’t want you wandering alone.”
It was a moment of madness that you decided to tag along with him. You were trapped in a gilded cage, pushing yourself to your limits under the weight and expectations of your peers. All you were to the world was just a commodity, to be married off to the next slimy businessman wanting stronger relations with your parents. So you didn’t care if he would rob you blind and leave you for dead.
The opposite ended up happening. In the end, it was Connor who convinced you to go back home that night, but that didn’t keep you from seeing him again. You found that the rumours about him were mainly false as he was hardworking and reliable. Seeking praise when he could, he helped people around the small neighbourhood that was situated below the gated community.
There were times that you confided in each other and he taught you how to be self-sufficient. He would also tell you stories, like the motorcycle he had was inherited from his father, who presumably had a wild streak when he was younger. Connor was sad whenever he mentioned his family, but he spoke with such a fondness that you envied a little.
Spending so much time together, falling into a relationship was natural. You remember it like yesterday, him fumbling with crushed flowers and then sharing a kiss under a shop awning when it started to rain.
“I might not be the best guy to be around, can’t treat you to the best restaurants but-“
“Just kiss me again, Connor.”
It was like a corny romance movie, the way things went.
Many had opposed the two of you getting together but the relationship persisted. Eventually, you became an adult and you threw away your rights to the family fortune by leaving, tired of being treated as a trophy. It was the biggest decision you ever made for yourself and it was Connor who gave you enough confidence to go through with it.
Packing only a few meagre possessions with your parents yelling at your back, all you could remember that day was the faint smell of his leather jacket as his motorcycle pulled out into the open road.
He loved you more than anything and you felt the same.
“Hey. I was thinking to join the police force- like my old man did. Make something of myself. Probably quit my habits.”
“Connor? Straight edge? I suppose miracles can happen!”
The brunet nudged you in the side with his arm.
“Aw, shut up. It’s for our future.”
True to his word Connor ditched the cigarettes and spent more time at the gym to improve his physical condition. That’s not to say it wasn’t difficult- you watched as he trembled from withdrawals on some days, chewing on all sorts of things. You cheered him on, helping him study for tests despite the fact that he often got distracted by your presence.
“Instead of sneaking your hands up my shirt, would you focus on what we just revised?”
His hands were soft and his fingers tickled your skin a little. As much as it would be fun to fool around, candidate entry exams were just around the corner.
“C’mon. I’ve been good. Why don’t we take a break?”
He gives you a smile, dazzling and mischievous. There was a pause then you relented, cursing a little at his attractiveness as he pinned you to the desk.
It seemed that things would just keep getting better, until law enforcement showed up on your doorstep one day. The officer’s face was like stone, making your heart sink immediately. After confirming your identity he took off his hat, seemingly struggling to find the words.
“My condolences, there’s been an incident involving Connor Anderson. With no living relatives, he listed you as his next of kin-“
Things just blurred together after that, unable to keep your grasp on reality. According to the report, Connor was at his part-time job when some junkie stabbed him in the chest for the measly bills in his pocket. It was so... unfair.
Desperate and alone, you get yourself a few drinks not long after. You weren’t the drinking type but it seemed like a good time as any. Leaning on the balcony of your shared apartment, you replayed the last voice message he left you. Connor was thoughtful like that, always letting you know where he was.
“Hey. Just letting you know I’m on the way to my job now. I love you. See you in the morning.”
“…See you in the morning.”
“…See you…”
Head spinning with grief, alcohol burning you up inside, you’re not in the most rational state you could be. With wobbly fingers, your phone slips from your palm and you reach out on reflex. Miscalculating the distance, you feel yourself falling over the railing. Too intoxicated to catch yourself, air rushes past as you plummet.
Wait. You didn’t want to die! Connor would be so disappointed…
“No matter what happens. Remember to live for yourself- you’re finally free from that stuffy lifestyle.”
“Why are you so serious all of a sudden?”
“I’d hate for a flower such as yourself to wither when you’ve just had the chance to bloom.”
“Always a charmer, aren’t you?”
Closing your eyes, you braced yourself for the pain.
The next time you come to, you’re in your room in the afterlife. At least... that’s what you think. There is no doubt in your mind that you should be dead. Nothing is out of place, neat are the books stacked on the shelf and posters are in the same place you put them.
Something feels wrong.
“Good morning.”
Startled, you only just notice the man standing next to your bed. Turning towards the voice, your heart catches in your throat. The first thing you see are the brown eyes, brown hair and the freckles of your lover and instinctually you launch yourself at the man.
“…Alive! Connor! You’re-”
The scent of newly produced machinery reaches your nose and you take a moment to study his attire. Tailored pressed suit, ironed shirt and black tie- all things your Connor wouldn’t be caught in. Making yourself as small as possible, you back away like a scared animal.
“Who are you?” you hate the way your voice shakes but you’re starting to come to terms with the fact that this isn’t the afterlife at all.
“My name is Connor, an android with the designation RK800. I was sent by CyberLife to be your companion on request of your parents.”
“Android companion? Request of my… No. Androids don’t exist. Only in sci-fi.”
He shook his head, perfectly combed hair barely moving. Making sure you were paying attention, but giving you enough space he pressed a finger to his wrist. Holding out his palms, there was a pause, then a hologram flickered to life.
“…ask is that you-“
There’s a lot of static and the image is slightly distorted, as if it’s old archival footage. You can just make out the forms of your parents.
“…cryogenic preservation of our child. Also-“
Your mother is speaking, the one who was the most outspoken against your relationship with Connor. The woman you thought was cold and unfeeling- her face was pained with raw emotion.
“-lover… the Anderson boy. Let them reunite.”
Standing side by side, your parents held each other like a lifeline as they wept over your sleeping form.
“Our wish is selfish-“
Sinking into the bed, you were bombarded with all sorts of emotions as you tried to process what you just saw. Groomed to be an attractive, docile and well-read spouse to some unnamed person of their choosing, you never really saw eye to eye with your parents. But this…
How many days were you made to kneel in salt to correct your posture? How many nights were you tended to by the family doctor because your feet bled from dance practice? It was impossible to believe that they suddenly had a change of heart after such a long time of cutting communication with them.
Before you just about drowned yourself in miserable and conflicting thoughts, ‘Connor’ spoke again.
“About 100 years ago, you fell from the balcony of your apartment. Paramedics managed to save you, but you were unresponsive.”
Pressing your lips in a thin line, tears gathered at the corner of your eyes. One hundred years. It seemed so surreal. Bombarded with too much information, your head started to spin. Oh no.
“Your parents spent their entire fortune in order to put you in a still-experimental cryogenic preservation tube in hopes that medical science would advance, thus bringing you out of your vegetative state.”
The android scanned your vitals and upon seeing your stress levels rocket, he accessed the memory information he was provided. It would seem that Connor Anderson would stroke your hair whenever you suffered from anxiety attacks. The right course of action, but his social relations program told him that humans are unpredictable when distressed.
There’s no guarantee you’d react positively to such a gesture, but the android followed protocol.
PROVIDE COMFORT AND REASSURANCE.
Tentatively he placed a hand on your head, running his fingers slowly through your hair.
“For when you woke up, they wanted an android exactly the same as your lover, Connor Anderson, to be your companion.”
Tears falling freely now, your hands gathered up the bed sheets beneath you, gripping them until your knuckles were white. How- he was so human-like and imitated Connor so much. But you knew, you knew that this man in front of you was-
“You’re just a machine. How can you experience love independent from lines of code?”
It’s an unfair assumption on your part, but you’re so overcome with anguish that you can’t place a filter to what you’re saying. What went through their heads when your parents decided this for you? That you would just accept a machine as a partner?
“I…”
SOFTWARE INSTABILITY.
He was unable to answer and you sadly expected as much. Furiously rubbing at your face with the palm of your hand you pulled yourself out of bed. You had to get away from… that thing. Your mind had not accounted for the fact that you’ve been sleeping for many years and so the instant you put weight on your foot, you came crashing down.
RK800 reacted quickly, catching you before you hit the unforgiving floor. Gritting your teeth, you held onto him, legs feeling like anchors. A wave of frustration hit you, not wanting to rely on the android at all. Wriggling, almost immobilised in his grasp, you sighed. Swallowing your pride, you allowed him to set you back on the bed.
Looked human, sounded (mainly) human, felt human but you noticed the distinct lack of warmth. You really didn’t want to think about how easily he could tear you apart. Did that happen in this day and age?
Scary.
“I know this is difficult to take in all at once. But if there’s something I can do, please let me know.”
Taking a few deep breaths, you tried to collect yourself. It’s been a hundred years, everyone you know and love is dead and there’s an android companion who’s the spitting image of your (also dead) lover.
Focusing on a breathing pattern and the beating of your own heart, you found your voice.
“Where are we anyway? Why does it look like my bedroom?”
The android walked over to the side of the room, tapping his knuckle against the wall. It was indescribable, the sort of sound it produced.
“Made of crystallised silicon and carbon, this is a shelter designed to look like the environment you are most familiar with.”
Running his finger against the artificial bookshelf, it was shown to have no dust.
“Studies over the years have shown that those who have awoken from cryo-stasis experience too much of a shock if the environment is too different from what the subject remembers.”
‘...makes sense, but it’s a miracle I didn’t just drop dead from the information dump before.’
“Will you take me to the balcony?”
Curiosity got the better of you, yearning to see the outside world for what it was. Swearing that the android’s face morphed into one of worry for a moment, you marvelled at how technology advanced so much. But would acknowledging his presence mean that your Connor was just... gone?
There it was, tears making you choke again. Now that you had time to think, you realised you didn’t even get the chance to grieve.
“Are you sure?”
All you did was nod. With a gentleness that made your heart seize in your chest, he scooped you up bridal-style. His dress shoes were the only thing heard against the strange floor as he walked you to the balcony.
Things were still the same, only more glass covered skyscrapers and less nature. Neon billboards and lighted signs on the side of buildings were more prominent but that was all. Feeling a little silly for yourself you sort of expected flying cars like out of a sci-fi movie.
A slight breeze went by, the air chilling you slightly. Thankfully, the android said nothing, opting to hold you silently as your eyes roamed the streets below. Downcast, you motioned for him to take you back inside.
One hundred years. One hundred years. It was time to rip off the band-aid.
“Tell me what happened to my parents.”
The android produced what seemed like a data pad from the back of his belt. With a few flicks of his wrist, he handed it to you. Old news articles flashed before you as you scrolled.
MANY JOBS LOST AS MAJOR CHAIN SHUTS DOWN SUDDENLY
ASSETS SOLD TO COMPETITORS, NO STATEMENTS MADE FROM THE CEO
FUNDING RECEIVED: GOVERNMENT TO COMPLETE PHASE ONE OF CRYOGENIC TRIALS
“So it’s true…”
You were given the gift of life anew, in a world that had already moved on. The sun had risen and set for an entire century without you. To be approximate, thirty-six thousand and five hundred mornings.
“…I love you, see you in the morning.”
Thirty-six thousand and five hundred mornings without him.
“Is there anything else you require?” the voice of RK800 cut through your thoughts.
Shaking your head you pulled the bed sheets up to your chin, signalling to the android that you wanted to rest. Connor wouldn’t want you to squander a second chance at anything and he’d encourage you to continue living. But for now, you wanted to grieve.
The android pulled up a chair next to the bed-no doubt manufactured- and sat down to watch over you. It was an unnecessary action, but having him stand still as a statue would probably alarm you. The last thing you saw before you closed your eyes was the strange light up indicator on his temple spin to red.
This was unprecedented.
In the short time he interacted with you, RK800 faced multiple software errors. He was the most advanced prototype CyberLife had to offer and worth a small fortune but he wasn’t sure he was equipped for this mission.
Wasn’t sure?
He recalled his purpose.
I am a companion android, specially tailored to look and act like the client’s past lover.
The client has been in cryogenic stasis for a century and will act unpredictably.
My first mission is to facilitate the client’s rehabilitation and to help them integrate into society.
By all accounts, his programming should have compensated for the monumental task but actually confronting it? A strange something manifested within his chest and running a diagnostic was inconclusive. He was designed to adapt to any situation and so an assumption was made: the possibility that he was feeling.
By process of elimination, what he was feeling now was empathy towards your situation. Such a cruel hand fate had dealt you. Body moving on autopilot, he reached over to your sleeping form and placed a hand on your head.
Was this all just a bug? Or an experience brought on by programming? There were no other RK models to consult and as a specialised companion android he couldn’t contact CyberLife. While stroking your hair, he whispered into the quiet room.
“I will not fail you.”