Safe Word

AN: I don't even have a PlayStation (or any console actually), but I have become totally obsessed with Connor from Detroit: Become Human. I've got pictures of him splashed all over and I keep staying up too late on FFN/AO3 when i should be sleeping. I've been reading a lot of Connor/Reader fic lately and it finally inspired me to do my own.

Standard Disclaimer! I own nothing (But I will so totally buy a Connor model when available...)

Of all the conversations you expected to have at the precinct this morning, this certainly isn't one of them.

"Yeah," you mumble, feeling the tips of your ears turn red. "A...a 'safe word' is something you say when you want to stop something you don't like. It's usually not a word you would commonly say, so there isn't any question when it's used."

"Would 'stop' not already be sufficient for this purpose?" Connor leans forward in his chair, no longer fidgeting with his ever-present coin in favor of listening to you. You still don't know the whole story behind the quarter, but you've never seen him without it. Even now it occasionally catches the light in the palm of his hand, like a talisman.

You try not to get distracted by thoughts of his skillful fingers as you reply: "Normally, yes, but sometimes people get lost in the moment and...well, some others don't really mean what they say."

"Why would someone not mean 'stop' when they say it?"

I am sooo glad Reed is not here to listen in, you think to yourself. That prick would be drinking to this moment for months...

"Well...sometimes...people role-play and...say they don't like something when they actually do."

"Role-play?"

Rubbing at your face to make sure it doesn't spontaneously catch fire, you struggle to come up with an answer. "Um...role-play can be...a way to try something different. To act out and pretend to be someone else."

"Like 'Cops & Robbers'?" Connor's face lights up. "I have seen human children play this game."

"Not quite...but, I guess you could draw a parallel."

"Would the safe word not defeat the purpose of the game? Would the 'criminal' not simply use the word to end the session before they could be captured?"

"I suppose, but that's not how it works in...well...safe words are typically used in rough or romantic role-playing."

"Romantic role-playing?" Connor murmurs with a furrowed brow, his LED flashing yellow as he processes the information. "This is very...interesting."

It isn't enough that he is designed to be attractive: soft voice, medium build, dark hair and a great jawline, but damn it he looks absolutely adorable when puzzled.

"Do you have a safe word, Detective?"

You cough, nearly drowning from the sip of coffee you took a second earlier. You try to keep your heart in the right place and not let your simmering crush on the android get the better of you.

It's difficult when his big brown eyes make you feel like you are the center of the universe.

"That's a deeply personal question, Connor," you hiss, glancing around for eavesdroppers.

Immediately, he looks abashed and you feel a stab of guilt.

"I'm sorry, Detective. I did not mean to pry inappropriately."

"It's..." You sigh. "It's OK, Connor. It's your job to ask questions. I know you were just, y'know, following a lead."

He opens his mouth to say something more, but is interrupted by the arrival of Lieutenant Anderson.

"Come on," barks the older man. "Fowler gave us a new case."

Connor stands and gives you a nod. "Thank you, Detective. May we speak further when I return?"

He sounds so hopeful your heart melts a little. "Sure."

While he is turning to walk away, your mouth gets a mind of its own.

"Um, Connor?"

"Yes, Detective?"

"Bubbles," you manage to blurt out before you have time to regret it.

"Bubbles?"

"It's...it's my word."

The LED on his temple spins yellow for a moment and he flashes you a brilliant grin. "I like it."

An android shouldn't have a smile like a damn sunrise, it just isn't fair.

"Quit flirting and get your ass in gear, Connor! We got a job to do," Anderson shouts from the hallway.

"Coming, Hank!"

Thanks a lot Lieutenant, you groan mentally. The precinct gossip-mill will have a field day with the idea of the squad's 'Robo-Cop' flirting.

Turning back to organize the stack of case folders on your desk, you feel rather proud that you only check Connor's perfect ass twice as he walks out the door.

"Officers down! Repeat! Offic-"

The radio screams in your ear as you charge up the steps of the old tenement building. The hours at the gym are paying off as you are only mildly winded when you arrive at the correct floor.

Shouts echo down the hallway as you clear it for hostiles, your pistol tight in your hand.

The three other officers with you quickly secure the stairway as you approach the shattered door on your left.

"In here! Suspect escaped through the window-"

A quick glance through the apartment entryway takes in the scene and you feel your guts twist.

Hank Anderson is clutching a bullet wound in his shoulder, but his concern is not for himself. "Connor?"

Curled up on his side, a pool of blue liquid is spreading out from under the android detective's body.

Thankfully, your training kicks in and leaves the horrified part of your mind wrapped in shock. You grab the med kit all field officers were now required to wear and rip into the sterile packaging. Inside you find small bags of supplies ranging from adrenaline syringes to nanite bandages. Newer kits, like yours, are even packed with a bag of blue blood.

"Connor?" you ask as you gently roll him onto his back.

"I..."

"You're going to be OK, son. We'll will get you fixed up."

You have never heard Anderson's voice so gentle and it sends your pulse racing more. If he is scared...

The damage is severe, far greater than your little kit can salvage. Even with your untrained eye you can see that several critical bio-components are hemorrhaging through a large exit wound in Connor's side.

Your hands shake as you apply compression bandages to the worst of the leaks, but you don't know how much it will help.

"Hank, I'm...I'm sssorry-"

"Shut up. You've got nothing to apologize for."

The LED on Connor's temple is a brilliant ruby red that you've only seen when he was in extreme distress.

His doe brown eyes move from Hank's face to yours. "Det-"

"Shhh, drink this," you say as you press the thirium pouch to his lips. "The bus is on its way."

You try not to lose focus, but it isn't looking good. The pool under Connor's body is spreading faster than you could put it back in.

"You know," you choke on the words. "You could have just asked me to come instead of having to get all dramatic and get yourself shot."

"I'm sss-"

"If you say sorry one more time, I'm gonna kick your ass!" Hank snarls, pushing away the officer who was trying in vain to bandage his arm.

"It's OK. After we get you on your feet, you can buy the first round at Jimmy's as an apology," you say lightly.

His weak smile breaks your heart.

You snatch the Android compartment of the other cop's field kit and quickly tear it open.

The second bag of thirium spills in your shaking hands, and you lift Connor's head to try to get him to drink.

His chocolate eyes follow you, but the rapid scarlet pulse of his LED is slowing.

-System shutdown imminent-

His lips move, but no sound comes out.

"Connor?"

-System shutdown initiated-

"CONN-"

-System shutdown complete-

CyberLife sends a team to pick up their prototype and seem indifferent to the fact your friend's blood is all over their boots. They lift Connor's body onto a gurney and give you a confused look when you stop them from wheeling him away.

Gently, you reach into the pocket of the android's uniform and try not to notice how half the letters of his serial number are now stained deep blue. You lift out Connor's quarter and curl your fingers around the cold metal.

The technicians share a glance but don't protest, clearly reading that any protests about Cyberlife property would not be well received.

It was just a stupid quarter after all.

Hank is still leaning against the wall, having refused to let the ambulance crew drag him away until his former partner was taken care of. The older man looks lost, perhaps a breath away from eating a bullet himself. Your heart aches. You know what the whispers say about his past, about his family.

Son.

You had heard the endearment through the haze of your own panic and it makes Connor's loss even harder.

Bleary eyed, Anderson stares at you as you hold out the coin. An offering.

"I'm sure he'll want it back when he gets home again," you manage in a thin whisper.

Hank grimaces but reaches over and slowly takes the quarter.

You want to comfort him, to tell him that everything will be all right. CyberLife has warehouses full of all the tools and parts to repair even the most severely damaged androids.

But you say nothing.

You know as well as Hank does that the Connor who walked out of the precinct this morning may not be the one who walks back in. His memories, his quirks, his...soul...may be lost in the process of his reconstruction.

You look at the large stain on the dirty apartment floor until the silence becomes too heavy.

You are about to leave when you hear: "What did he say?"

Pausing, you look up at the lieutenant. "What?"

"Connor, he...he said something to you at the...just before," Hank's eyes are red rimmed with grief he would never openly admit. "What was it?"

Your throat feels like it is full of barbed wire as your own sorrow closes in. In your mind's eye, you can see the blue bloodied lips form the word as clearly as if it were etched in neon.

Bubbles.

AN: Damn it, I made myself sad, :(