Research Assistant 9 || DBH Connor x Reader ||

Y/n had forgotten how much she loved early mornings at the precinct. The constant hum of voices, the distant ringing of phones, the shuffle of paperwork—it was all too familiar. She had finally gotten her groove back. She had spent the past few days looking over the case, familiarizing herself with Connor's case studies. She had gone back to the shooting range, getting reacquainted with her firearm. She felt ready to tackle this case like she used to.

A few days ago, when she came in to get her badge from Captain Fowler, she had run into Hank. She was worried that Hank would be angry at her for leaving, and for a moment it seemed like he might yell at her. But that moment didn't last long as he threw his arms around her.

"I'm glad your back kiddo," he said with a sign of relief.

"Thanks Hank," I said, returning his hug. "I missed you too."

Y/n was jolted back to the present as Hank took a seat across from her. "Thought you might need this," he grumbled. She sat at her new desk, sifting through reports on deviant behavior patterns, when Hank dropped a coffee in front of her

Y/n raised an eyebrow. "Am I supposed to be touched by this grand gesture," she joked playfully, falling back into her usual banter with her old partner.

"Don't push it," he said, sipping his own drink, hiding a smile behind his cup.

Connor, standing nearby, observed the interaction. "We received a report about unusual noises coming from an abandoned apartment complex. Possible deviant activity."

Y/n sighed, setting down her coffee. "Guess that means we're taking a field trip."

Hank groaned. "I just sat down."

***

The apartment complex was in a rundown part of town, the kind of place that looked like it had been forgotten by time. The three of them entered the elevator, slowly climbing floor after floor. When they reached the top, y/n followed Hank out of the elevator, but they both faltered when Connor stayed put.

Hank signed as he turned around to face him, "You run out of batteries or what?"

Connor opened his eyes, taking in his surroundings, "I'm sorry. I was making a report to cyberlife." We both waited for Connor but when he didn't step out Hank spoke up, "Well do you plan on staying in the elevator?"

Connor blinked slowly, "No."

Hank turned back around making a beeline for the apartment.

"Come on Connor," I said, waving him forward, and we followed Hank until we stood in front of the apartment door.

Connor scanned the area, LED flickering yellow. "The suspect is likely still here."

Hank knocked on a door. "Detroit Police! Open up!"

No response.

Y/n pressed her ear to the door. There—a faint shuffle, just beyond the wood.

She nodded to Connor.

Hank kicked the door open.

The room was a mess—graffiti-covered walls, overturned furniture, and most notably, a small nest of makeshift bedding in the corner. Whoever was here had been staying for a while.

They took their time examining the room, searching for clues as to who had been staying here. Connor followed y/n into the bathroom as she noticed an LED resting on the sink. "The deviant must have removed their LED. You think it was trying to pass a human?"

"Wait," said Connor approaching the far wall. "Look at this. The deviant has been obsessively writing rA9 all over the wall. The last deviant did the same thing. There has to be some kind of connec-"

There was a blur of motion as the deviant bolted from the shadows, leaping through the shattered window onto the fire escape.

"Son of a—" y/n was already moving.

Connor was right beside her as they burst through the window, hot on the deviant's heels. The chase took them across rooftops, through rusted scaffolding, over beams that barely looked stable enough to hold their weight.

The deviant was fast. But Connor was faster.

Y/n was gaining too, when suddenly—

"Shit!"

Hank had followed them up, but his foot had caught on the edge of a ledge. He slipped, barely managing to grab onto the side of the building.

Connor stopped immediately, scanning Hank's predicament. He hesitated.

Y/n saw it.

Saw the calculation in his eyes.

"Connor!" Hank shouted, struggling to keep his grip.

Connor's gaze flickered between y/n and the deviant. His LED spun yellow, processing.

Y/n met his stare for half a second before snarling, "Go!" And she took off.

The deviant was nearly at the next rooftop, but y/n pushed herself harder, faster. She launched forward, grabbing the deviant just as they reached the edge, tackling him to the concrete.

They struggled, but she was stronger. She had fought many androids before when leading the combat part of their training. She knew how to handle one.

"Enough!" she growled, pinning them down. She pulled out her gun, holding it just under his chin in warning.

"Please," the deviant whispered. Fear. Desperation. A silent plea.

She tightened her grip on the gun.

Footsteps behind her.

Connor stood a few feet away, looking a little shaken. Hank stood beside him—safe.

"You got 'em?" Hank asked, hands on his knees.

Y/n didn't answer immediately. She saw the fear in the deviant's eyes.

For a moment, she hesitated.

Then, she forced her expression blank and pulled the deviant to his feet.

"Yeah," she muttered. "I got 'em."

"Pease," said the deviant, "I've done nothing wrong. I just wanted to be free. You know what they'll do to me if you turn me in."

Connor hesitated, then stepped forward, "Model 874 004 961, serious malfunctions have been detected in your software, including Class 4 errors. You've been deemed defective and will be sent back to Cyberlife for deactivation."

Y/n didn't like this. She wanted to let him go, more than anything.

She was seriously considering it, when Hank stepped forward, cuffs in hand and took him from her grasp. He put the cuffs on him and started to lead him away.

She was still lost in thought when the deviant tensed up, "rA9 save me," he said under his breath just seconds before turning on his heel and running for the edge of the building.

He jumped.

There was a loud thud as his mechanical body hit the concrete below. All she could do was stare in horror.

"Holy shit," muttered Hank as he looked over the side of the building. She didn't want to know what he saw down there. She looked at Connor instead. He seemed...distant. Lost in thought.

"Funcking Androids," Hank turned around heading back the way they came. Connor stood there, unmoving.

She holstered her gun.

"Connor," she said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Are you ok?"

"I'm fine," he said, a cold expression returning to his face. "Let's go."