Do Circuits Sing? Connor X OC

Our Goodbyes.

Hank had also aged considerably now nearing eighty-six. The man rarely left his room and struggled to remember people. Connor hated seeing the people around his age become unhealthy with age claiming them.

"Do you still love me, Connor?" Brooke asked as a tear fell down her cheek. She felt herself talking nonce, but she wouldn't blame Connor for leaving her for someone younger or another android.

"Brooke, not this again. I don't care about your age or looks, I told you thirty years ago I wouldn't change how I felt about you and I'm not about to change my mind now." He wrapped his hands around her bare stomach, turning her to face him. A tear fell down her pale cheeks.

"I'm sorry, I just look more like your mum than your wife now," she muttered. Connor shook his head, pulling her in for a kiss.

"Stop talking nonce, I will not allow it," he said with a strict tone. She nodded, finally giving in and dropping her head into his chest.

2072: "Connor? Are you ready?" Brooke asked him, they stood at the foot of the casket. Eighty-seven-year-old Hank inside. He passed away a week before due to complications with his heart. Connor hadn't been the same since, Annabelle had scanned him multiple times and his body was paying the price. Error messages appearing and he was ignoring them, she had to fix him... somehow. 

"No, I can't leave him," he cried. Markus stood by his side, a stern hand on his shoulder. He couldn't offer much comfort for this type of loss, but he understood when he lost Carl nearly twenty-five years ago.

"Dad? Please, we need to go," Annabelle says. She wraps his hand in hers and pulls him away, the last they all see of Hank before he is buried.

---

It had been two months since Hank's death and Connor still struggled as if it had happened only yesterday. He visited Hank's grave every day and barely spent time with the family. Annabelle had finally had enough and knew she needed to do something.

That morning she found Connor just where he would be at the time, sitting on the cold floor next to Hank's grave. "This seat taken?" she asks, he looks at her startled but softens his expression at her.

"Course not. Why are you here?" he asks as she sits down next to him.

"I've come to break you out of this unhealthy routine you have. Mum doesn't know what she can do for you anymore." Connor looks at the grave, it was true he had let this affect him a lot. He barely worked anymore, not wanting to, and hadn't spoken to Markus or Gavin since the funeral.

"What was Hank like when you first met him?" she asks, wanting to see if she could dig some funny memories from him.

Connor chuckled at the question, he looked down at the ground in front of him as he answered. "He hated me, punched me once, and pointed a gun at me as well." Connor knew he could laugh at those memories now, they did make him laugh.

"You know he loves you right? Hank would hate to see you like this," she whispers. Connor finally cried at that, months of emotions bottled up were let loose on her as he collapsed into her arms.

"I know," he mutters. "I need to move on," he adds.

Annabelle pulls him back, a stern gaze on her face. "You don't need to move on, just remember the happy times with him." Connor nodded, he finally did that. Letting the stored memories take over, the sadness had finally gone, he smiled for the first time in a long time.

The Final Person: Brooke woke up with the usual aches and pains, her grey hair sprung across the pillow. She wasn't sure what day it was anymore. Now at the age of ninety-two, her body was coming close to the end.