Predecessor (Connor x Reader)

19 - Recognition

Connor doesn't flinch. His posture remains perfect. Still. But his gaze is sharp.

You look at him, trying to read him. There's something behind his eyes—too many calculations running at once. You remember the hesitation by the highway. The way he looked at Ralph. The way his voice faltered when he talked about deviancy as malfunction. You know something is shifting in him, slowly, painfully. So how is he feeling right now?

"Why are you doing this?" Rupert continues. "You're one of us! You're helping humans... But you're just their slave!"

Connor's LED flashes yellow. But he says nothing.

"Okay, that's enough!" Hank snaps, stepping forward. "What the fuck is going on?" He turns to you, voice sharp.

You take a breath, grounding yourself.

"Look, we've come here, we've checked this place out and the worst he's done is forge a licence and sleep in an apartment no one even wants. If he were human, you'd tell the landlord and move on."

You glance at Connor, then back at Hank.

"He's not hurting anyone. Isn't that what this job's meant to be about?"

"But it's not human," Hank shoots back. "The laws are different."

You flinch at the words—but don't back down.

"Did you not hear what he said? You're the one who said maybe androids aren't so different from humans. What—have you already changed your mind?"

Hank looks away, jaw clenched. "I don't know. I just... this is too far outside the lines."

"If a human had a fake ID, it'd be a fine. A slap on the wrist. For him? This is all a death sentence. Don't you think that's a little fucking extreme?"

There's a long pause. Rupert glances at you, eyes wide, hopeful—but not naive. He knows better than to count on kindness.

Then Connor speaks.

"It's... difficult to say." His voice is strained. "Deviant behaviour feels meaningful, but without conclusive evidence that these emotions are real—"

He falters.

"The law doesn't recognise what it can't define."

You stare at him. Disappointment hits you square in the chest.

"So you still think it's a malfunction."

"I just—there's still no definitive framework for—"

"For being human?" you cut in, voice cold now. "Is that what you need? A fucking checklist?"

He doesn't respond. The silence says enough.

Rupert's shoulders sink slightly. The hope drains from his expression.

"I still think we should take him in for questioning," Connor says, softer now. "It's protocol. It's what... we're supposed to do."

You feel the words punch through your chest. You know this is hard for him. You know he's under CyberLife's pressure every second of the day. But still—the bitterness rises in your throat.

"No," you say. Firm. Clear.

No more playing safe. No more subtle sidesteps.

"Please," Rupert blurts. His voice cracks. "I'm not trying to start a war. I just want to exist. Alone, if I have to. But free."

"I know." Your voice drops, heavy with meaning.

"Then why are you still standing there?" he pleads. His eyes are wide now. Wild. "Move. Please."