Kamski had been kind enough to spend his entire Saturday with you, helping you with chores and providing moral support. Sunday was dreadful, yet passed quickly enough for you to not be able to remember anything other than Connor knocking on your door at exactly 12 pm, insisting a few times, then leaving when he realized you weren't going to open up, and Elijah stopping by to bring you dinner and make sure everything was alright.
Kamski had also insisted for you to come to work one hour later than usual, to make sure you got enough sleep, an offer you greatly appreciated, but had no use for. Sleeping was nearly impossible.
So there you were, standing in front of the workshop at 6:30 am, rain pouring down on you, clothes soaked, hand wrapped around the doorknob. You had been frozen in place for a good few minutes, unable to go further. You had no idea what exactly you were trying to avoid.
The handle slipped out of your grip as the door opened by itself (or so you thought), before you noticed Connor carefully peeking outside.
"Good morning, assistant." He answered politely and with a soft careful tone coating his words.
That was what you had been trying to avoid: Confronting Connor. You had hurt him, and you were well aware of that at that moment, although you tried to shrug it off with the pretext that he was just a machine. Treating him like that was wrong. He hadn't...he hadn't done anything wrong, other than try to understand.
"I'm sorry." You answered, staring down at your shoes, not daring to step inside.
The silence that followed was accompanied by the pitter-patter of rain on the pavement.
"What for?" Connor tilted his head, LED blinking yellow in confusion. He was trying to understand, the poor thing. Always trying.
"For...shutting you out. You didn't deserve that."
"Grief is a strong emotion. I can understand why you were perturbed. Or...I'm trying to." The Android answered with a half-hearted smile. "You should come inside. Catching a cold on top of everything that is already happening would be inconvenient."
"Yeah." You nodded, still avoiding his searching chocolate gaze and entered. And almost stumbled over a huge amount of books spread out all over the floor.
"Excuse the mess. I...attempted familiarizing myself with multiple things while you and mister Kamski were away. And you came 30 minutes earlier than expected, so I didn't find the time to clean up. Excuse me while I do so, assistant."
The Android left you to your own devices after explaining and rushed to gather all the books spread across the floor. You recognized some to be addressing human psychology, others were manuals made by Kamski himself, containing instructions on modifying the so-called "reptilian brain" of Androids. What exactly had Connor-
"(Y/n), I am going to have to ask you not to tell mister Kamski about my activities. My intentions are not ill, and I-"
A pit of uncertainty formed in your stomach. Something was off.
"What exactly have you been doing?"
"I've ensured your safety." Connor answered, nothing but honestly in his words. "Or as much of it as I can."
"How can I trust you?" You shook your head and backed away to the door, fingers already wrapping around the knob. You were mentally reharsing the fastest route to Elijah's home.
"Just the way you did when we ran away from that bar. When you let me guide you." Connor answered, steadily making his way over to you. Carefully, he took your hand in his, running his thumb over your knuckles just the way you had on on that blissful Friday night, which seemed years away. "You need to trust me, (y/n). Please."
You bit your lip, reluctantly stepping away from the door.
"Alright. I...okay." You took a deep breath and nodded. "Gather the books. I- I'll help you put them back."
· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·
"Good morning, (y/n). How are you feeling?"
"I see you have refused my offer of sleeping in." Kamski chuckled to himself. "RK800, for how long has she been here?"
"(Y/n) has arrived exactly 11 minutes and 54 seconds before you, mister Kamski." Connor lied with a professionalism you still could not believe he had. But why did Connor feel the need to lie to Elijah?
"Good. We've got work to do. I've received a letter from the authorities: The Allied forces in Normandy have captured Carentan. They need more reinforcements and have requested for the RK800 to return. I'll need you to prepare it for the flight and package it properly."
Something dangerously close to nausea settled in your stomach as you couldn't help but find Connor with your gaze, who was looking almost equally shocked as you felt, although he seemed to be doing a better job at hiding it.
You had lied to yourself-You knew this day was going to come...the day you sent Connor away. Maybe to lose his memory again.
To lose everything you've done together and be the machine he was created to be.
"Before you begin preparing it, though, I'll need you to download it's decryption feature and combat knowledge onto the RK900's future memory drive." Kamski disappeared inside his office, took an almost suspicious amount of time to return, then handed you a small, cuboid-shaped metallic piece and a wire. "You know what you've got to do."
Kamski disappeared inside his office once again. Hands trembling, you clutched the wire and memory drive, then nodded for Connor to follow you. Silently, you led him inside the storage room. A knot had settled in your throat, making it painful to breathe.
"Sit down, Connor." You gestured to a nearby cardboard box. He obeyed, turning his back towards you to give you full access over his processors as you approached.
You brushed some of his soft hair aside with care, finding the small button on his metallic skull, pressing it. A part of it popped open, revealing the wires blinking a soft, calm blue wires inside his head, contradicting his red flashing LED.
"I don't want to leave, (y/n)."
YOU ARE READING
WAR MACHINE ⊳ connor x readerFanfiction
❝Judging by the rest of its body, the RK800 has clearly been damaged by an explosion. And yet, the skull...looks intact, other than the missing memory drive.❞ ❝We're here to fix this war machine, not to play detectives.❞ [WW2 AU] In which you work a...