Deviant Behavior (Connor x Reader)

Vigilo Confido

"What if they kill you?" Connor blocked your view, "Did you think about that?"

"You said it yourself.  There might be no coming back from this."  You whispered, "That's just a chance I'm going to have to take."

The two of you looked out from over the barrier that'd been set as a perimeter.  You'd seized it as your own, as your army's, the fluid nightmare that had pried the eyes of humanity open to wake them up.

"I'm unarmed," Perkins repeated your name, "I just want to talk.  It won't take long."

You started towards the edge, but a strong grip stopped you.

"Please don't do this-" Connor pleaded, "I...I just have a bad feeling-"

He'd said that when you visited Elijah for the first time in years, too.  Hank had said it might be a glitch.  That he needed to get his program checked.

But those instincts, those indicators, were early warning systems of an android's true humanity.

His eyes searched yours for something to nullify his compounding bereavement.  Eyes that'd evolved from glossed-over, mechanical parts to real facial features with micro-expressions and emotional back stories.

And as many times as you'd looked into them, they still left you breathless.  It still hurt when you had to look away.

"I have to..."  You reached up to give him a brief kiss, "You know I do."

You'd already taken too much time, because in the process of negotiations, every second counted.

You couldn't let Perkins see the hesitation.  The ounce of fear that had you teetering on the border of a differentplatform than the one you'd given a speech on beneath the CyberLife Tower.

This was just another interrogation, the world as your witness.  Another one of Perkins' underhanded attempts to get you to repent, playing the role of judge, jury, and executioner.

You were powerless against his crusade, the first few times.

"'Alas, only birds strayed and fatigued by flight...'"

Not anymore.

"'...Now let themselves be captured with our hand.'"

And never again.

...

Your boots landed in the tundra below, knees almost buckling under the weight.

Almost.

But they didn't.

Not even with a bullet wound that made your muscle fibers grow back in a new pattern.  Or with aching joints from when that same arm carried a shield into battle.

Not even with a bruise on your stomach from when a gunshot had missed its mark.  Or with a gash across your cheek from when a pistol of the same make tore into your flesh with its sights.

No matter how strait the gate, you would not fall.

No matter how charged with punishments, the scroll - you would not falter.

You rose slowly.  Calculated and onlooking with procedural focus, your vision leveled with the battlefield.

You licked your lips, the cracks and cuts stinging from the cold.  Took the first step towards resolution, alone and unwavering.

Elijah wasn't the only person pressing on along a dangerous adventure.  Wasn't the only one that would have to forge a new path on their own.

Josh, North, and Markus stood watch from the sidelines, where the people you fought for lived as the battle for Detroit reached a new height.