Deviant Behavior (Connor x Reader)

Deviant Hunter

"That's probably a good idea. We're keeping him out past his bedtime."

"I heard that!" Hank leaned in the doorway with his forearm on the frame, "I'm old, but I've still got my hearing, ya ass."

"Selective hearing, maybe..."

He scoffed, "Stop bothering her, Connor. She's got work to do."

Connor perked up in surprise, "My apologies."

He nodded before his departure, not giving you an opportunity to tell him he wasn't bothering you at all.

"Lieutenant, I think I've figured out what happened." Connor repeated.

"Oh yeah? Shoot." He smacked his lips, glaring at you from over Connor's shoulder, "I'm all ears."

You bit back a laugh, and watched Connor scan over the evidence with an intense gaze.

"It all started...in the kitchen."

He walked Hank to a broken chair next to the bat.

"There're obvious signs of a struggle..." Hank mumbled, but not maliciously, "The question is, what exactly happened here..."

It was as if he was testing Connor. Like he'd already figured all this out, and had been waiting to hear his android partner's second opinion. Or, he was teaching him. Either way, it was nice to see.

Connor answered him, almost too eagerly.

"I think the victim attacked the android...with the bat."

"That lines up with the evidence...Go on."

Yeah. Definitely a test. Hank was old, and only heard and saw what he wanted...but he "still had it."

"The android stabbed the victim." Connor nodded to a knife rack nailed to the kitchen wall, missing the largest utensil in what looked like a set.

"So the android was trying to defend itself, right?" Hank's chin dipped and rose, as if he was understanding the part that none of his human peers, yourself included, could make out, "Okay, then what happened?"

"The victim fled..." Connor turned his attention behind him, his stare running parallel to you as he aimed it towards the corpse, "To the living room."

You waited a few seconds before following them, always sticking to the background and keeping yourself out of the way. You waited between rooms, listening while pretending to be busy doing something else.

"And he tried to get away from the android..." Hank sighed, "All right, that makes sense."

"The android murdered the victim..." Connor hesitated, "With the knife."

"Ok, your theory's not totally ridiculous...but it doesn't tell us where the android went."

You peaked out of the corner of your eye. Connor turned towards Hank, his eyes squinting – lost in thought.

"It was damaged by the bat...and lost some Thirium."

"Lost some what?"

"Thirium. You call it, 'blue blood.' It's the fluid that powers androids' biocomponents. It evaporates after a few hours and becomes invisible to the naked eye."

His voice was soothing; direct, but very matter-of-fact. It had the perfect amount of velvet undertones, topped off by a jagged edge. The ends of each sentence left you wanting more.

"Oh...but I bet you can still see it, cant'chya?"

Finally...Hank was starting to see the value in having him here.

"Correct."

"Yeah..." He shoved his hands in his pockets, kicking the air as he turned on his heel.

Connor studied him, his eyes switching to you as if you'd been caught doing something you weren't supposed to.

You pointed your guilty glance at your boots, your jaw tightening as he passed.

He didn't waste any time following the trail that only he could see. A piece of wood clanked against another, and Hank dug his knuckles into his sides.

"Hey, HEY, HEY! What are you doing' with that chair?!"

Connor cocked his head to the side, standing in perfect posture with the heavy furniture.

"I'm going to check something." He smiled, waiting awkwardly for Hank to answer.

"Huh..." He groaned, "Gonna 'check something...'"

Connor walked the chair to the end of the hall as if it were made of paper, planting it in a very specific spot. He studied the ceiling, and you found what he was fixated on.

An attic's entrance.

He took a step on the chair, reaching his hands for the sliding panel.

"Uh..." You uncrossed your arms, "Should he be going up there alone?"

"He?" Hank gave you a suspicious look, "IT is replaceable. IT is a machine. I'm not sending one of our guys up there...Could be a fuckin' murderer in that attic for all we know."

His voice was low, but not low enough to slip by Connor...you guessed. The blue light on his head shifted to yellow before correcting itself, his hands pausing only for a second before his neck cranked towards the hatch. He pulled himself up, and you'd be lying if you said you weren't worried.

You didn't agree.

He wasn't replaceable...and he was certainly not just an "it."

...

You'd held your breath for what felt like an hour. You checked your watch – a rickety old time piece that people made fun of you for wearing. The hands ticked away, much more rustic than a screen.

Ten minutes. He'd been gone for ten minutes without any indication that he was still alive...active...whatever he was.

Hank paced next to you as you both stood under the attic's entrance.

"Connor!" His impatience peaked, "What the fuck is going on up there?!"

You waited. And waited. And waited...

You wanted so badly for him to answer.

"It's here, Lieutenant!"

A distant verification that Connor was in fact, still around...

Your gratefulness faded when your mind caught up with itself, and realized the deviant killer was still around, too. With Connor. Alone.

"Holy shit..." Hank's curse was breathless, "Chris, Ben! Get your asses in here now! Come on!"

You studied the hole in the ceiling, nervous and fearful.

You and Chris were ushered into the attic, forced to navigate the storage space filled with unsightly decorations. You'd be the ones to arrest the deviant, escorting him through the crime scene and calming him down as he saw his former master's body.

As you rested your palm on the top of the HK400's head, slick with blood and almost bald, he took his place in the back of your police cruiser. You shut the door, turning to witness the DCPD's androids holding back the crowd still watching in the cold, rainy night.

Past the bobbing microphones and reaching hands, there stood a single body in the doorway. One with a stare more distant than the accused killer's. One with deep-brown eyes that were no longer gentle and reassuring, but corrupted and confused.

Whoever rA9 was, the offering the murderer had made to them wasn't enough to keep him safe from Connor, an RK800 pushed into service as a deviant hunter.

And even as he continued to be successful, he didn't seem sure if he liked his job. After seeing the obvious signs of torture on the killer's arms, guilt sunk in your stomach as you sat next to Chris in the car...

You weren't sure if you liked Connor's job, either.