After living with Hank Anderson for just over a year now, Connor has grown used to Hank's depression and drinking problems. The android tries his best to lift the man up when he is down, and is always there to pull the flask out of his hand when he's sobbing at 4am, tuck him into his bed and leave him safe.
However, being a creature who doesn't need to sleep, Connor finds himself more and more sitting at the dining table pondering his own existence and what it must feel like to be in such a state of mind that you actually want to die. How strange. After being given this life, this one life, shouldn't it be your one goal to do your best and do the world proud? What on Earth could possibly lead a poor, weakened human to believe that the cold emptiness of death is better than the cold emptiness of life? Tonight was another one of those nights. Hank had actually gone to sleep at a reasonable time tonight, which was odd, but also a relief for the robot because it meant he had more time to think.
The android and Hank, who was now officially his boyfriend, had got this... thing, for Connor, which Cyberlife had created for research purposes only. It was a small square card which could be inserted into Connor's body to feed him human emotions, reactions and feelings. The two lovebirds had thought this could be fun to have, so had gotten hold of one. Hank had explained to Connor the feelings of arousal, contempt, utter sadness and utter joy, an orgasm, and many other advanced human feelings, to which Connor had agreed instantly. He was a curious robot.
Connor sat here now, looking at the small blue card on the table next to him. Hank had made him promise not to put it in without him, to wait, but it was almost unbearable. He was too excited. He'd even watched porn earlier to get the jist of this whole sex thing, and he wanted to know how it felt to get turned on by something like that. Fuck it. He grabbed the disk and assessed it before uncovering his skin projection to reveal a tiny slider, which he insterted the disk into and slid it back in. He stood there for a second, trembling, waiting for some burst of joy or something to happen. It didn't.
It was snowing. Winter. Connor's thermotech could read the cold from the outside filtering in through the gaps in the badly crafted windows of Hank's home, yet he couldn't feel it himself. Why couldn't he? Did this thing not work yet? Or was it broken? The snow was pattering against the windows slightly and covering the nearby houses in soft blankets of white, the midnight blue sky standing out against the acrylic-like colour of the snow.
Beautiful. He thought.
Just as his mind started to drift off into the existentials of everything, a smash came from Hank's bedroom. Connor was on his feet in a split second and speed walking down the hallway, bursting through the closed door to see Hank sitting on the edge of his bed, head in hands, a smashed whiskey bottle in front of him. The android sighed, walking cautiously up to the man.
"Hank?" Connor asked. When recieving no response, he placed himself next to Hank and tried again, more formally. He knew how Hank could get when drunk, like a different man. "Lieutenant? It's me, Connor, are you alri-" The robot was cut off as Hank abruptly spun around and thrust two hands at his chest, sending him flying off the bed and crashing into the wall. Connor supposed that answered his question.
"Whatthefuckyouwant?" Hank slurred at Connor, who still sat disgruntled on the floor. The small of his back had the slightest ache in it. Pain?
"I heard a sound, Lieutenant, and came to check if you were alright. What might be the matter?" Connor stood up with a grunt and offered a hand out to the drunken man to help him up too, but instead Hank pulled himself up and after wobbling about for a second, turned to Connor with an unreadable expression in his eyes. Connor frowned.
"Get out." Hank spat.
"Hank, it is my job as not only your partner but your boyfriend to make sure you're alright." Connor's sensors picked something up on Hank's left hand where the smashed glass had cut into it. "You're hurt. Let me clean it up for you-"
"Get the fuck off me, fucking machine." Hank yelled spitefully. He hadn't spoken to Connor like this in a very long time. The android knew how he could be when drunk, but these slurs hadn't left Hank's mouth in so long. It confused him. Connor tried to reach for his lover's hand again, but instead this time was greeted with a solid punch to the face and knee in the stomach. He stumbled back, eyebrows furrowing deeper as he tried to assess the situation before him. Did Hank hate him now? Had he done something wrong without realising? A throbbing feeling arose in his stomach regions. He couldn't help a tiny smile from growing on his face as he realised he was starting to feel.
"What the fuck are you smirking at?" Hank suddenly barked. "What's so funny, huh? Because I'd love to know."
"No, nothing, Hank, I just," Connor stepped towards him carefully, "Something really great has happened!" He exlaimed. Hank peered at him like he was a fucking mentallist, and then Connor was cut off again as the lieutenant flew at him, arms outstretched, two calloused hands pressing around the android's silicon throat. He could feel it. He could feel Hank's fingers digging into his airways, cutting off the oxygen supply, making breathing harder by the second. "H-Hank-" he choked out, trying to beg the man to let him go. He wanted it to stop. He had wanted to feel things, and now he did, and it was horrible. It hurt. He couldn't breathe.
"Don't act like this is fucking affecting you, you piece of shit." Hank shouted in his face. What the hell was this feeling? Was this fear? Connor's heart was racing unbelievably fast in his chest, and his limbs were flailing around frantically, while he let out tiny desperate gasps for air.
"H-Hank... p-please-" He gasped, and suddenly the Lieutenants hands loosened around his throat, and he slid down the wall into a crumpled heap on the ground.
Something about how Connor had begged the drunk's name had flicked the sober-switch in Hank's head, and he was suddenly on his knees next to the gasping android.
"Jesus... fuck, Connor, I'm so sorry," Hank said as he cupped Connor's face and tilted it upwards, forcing him to look him in the eye as gasping sobs wracked his small frame. Hank was speechless, how had this affected Connor like this? He wasn't human, for Christ's sakes, this was impossible. Not to mention, why the hell couldn't he control himself while drunk? He'd locked himself away in his room so he was a danger to no one but himself, and all Connor had tried to do was help him and he'd ended up like this...
"P-Please," Connor spluttered, as though he was still being choked, "Don't hurt me anymore, I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry-" he curled in on himself, shrinking away from Hank's touch.
"Connor, stop! Stop, it's alright, you're okay. God, kid, I'm so sorry," Hank pleaded, pulling Connor into his chest and rubbing soothing circles into his back as an attemp to try and calm him down. The man had never felt so guilty in his life. He'd hurt Connor.. the only one who was always there to help him, who never failed him or gave up on him, the one he... loved, all because of selfishly getting drunk. He knew how drinking changed him, but he never would have dreamed of taking it out on Connor.
"I'm so sorry I never meant to do anything wrong, please, please don't hurt me again, I just wanted to feel something-" Connor broke off into sobs, what was happening? Crying? Is this what crying feels like? Because Connor didn't like it. He really wasn't so keen on this whole feeling thing now.
"What do you mean, darling?" Hank said softly, brushing the tears off his boyfriend's cheeks and slipping an arm around his shoulders, pulling him into a hug.
"I-I used the card, I just wanted to know what it was like. That's all. I dont like it, I really don't... it hurts and it's really scary," Connor cried into Hank's shoulder.
"Hey, hey, shh. It's ok," Hank soothed him. His drunken anger was completely gone now that he had his broken boyfriend crying in his arms, because of him, he had to fix this. He propped Connor up on the arm around his shoulders and slid one under his knees, scooping him up into a bridal-style carry and taking him into the bedroom, where he set him down on the bed. "So you put the card in, huh? What's it feel like?"
"Not nice," Connor whispered. He felt stupid and embarassed being like this in front of the man he loved, he always seeked Hank's approval in what he did, and now he was just humiliating himself.
"Alright baby its okay, let's just get you to sleep shall we? Seeing as you can do that now?" Hank smiled softly at the young robot, running his eyes over Connor's perfect bone structure and the curves of his lips. He kicked himself to stop himself from fantasising about kissing him, that was for the next chapter. Wait what?
"What does sleep feel like?" Connor asked.
"Like closing your eyes and getting to switch everything off." Hank replied with a slight grin, there was something fun about being able to teach Connor all these new things. Connor was his. The lieutenant glanced back down at the robot who was now lying down, eyes closed, perfect lashes giving his soft face a bashful look even while he slept. Hank traced a finger down the side of his lover's face. He was so beautiful.
I wonder if he'll dream, Hank pondered.