[COMPLETED] Corrupted (Connor X Reader)

Reflection

The salad Hank bought for you wasn't the worst thing you'd ever tasted, but it was far from the best. One bite made you regret spitting out the Chicken Feed burger. Protein-filled comfort food sounded like heaven after all the crap you'd been through. But this was your second free meal, and no matter how disappointing the caesar salad was, you'd choke on your own shame if you asked the police lieutenant for something else.

"Thank you, Hank," You said again, twisting the plastic fork into your salad.

Hank scoffed, "I heard you the first time, but you're welcome. Now don't mention it again — talking means you're not eating."

You couldn't help but smile at that as you nodded and took another forkful. Without meaning to, your gaze wandered back to Connor, who at Hank's insistence was sitting in the front again (but not before you also told him to sit in the front — it had been cramped enough in the back seat last time). He stared out the window at something on the horizon, turned away from everyone else in the car with his hands folded neatly in his lap. The way his head was turned made it impossible to see his LED, but his expression reflected in the window stopped you from addressing him.

You probably shouldn't bother him right now. The thought made your stomach churn for some reason, and you lowered your fork. You wished for a distraction, but Connor hadn't gotten his coin back from Hank as far as you knew, so you'd have to distract yourself.

After a second of rummaging in your bag, you pulled out your phone and almost groaned at the number of alerts. They ranged from app updates to social media, and some messages. You checked the messages first. Some of those were spam of course, which you flicked away immediately. One was a job application rejection, "Thank you for your application, but we regret to inform you that..." You didn't read any further before deleting that too. The last few were android maintenance requests. You opened the first one before remembering that without your computer, you probably couldn't help them.

You groaned.

"What?" Hank was glaring at you through the rearview mirror with an eyebrow raised.

"Nothing, sorry."

The lie was feeble, even for you, but Hank shrugged and dropped it. Connor had promised to replace your computer, and you didn't feel like bringing that up again — after the two free meals you already felt like enough of a freeloader. Irritated, you rubbed your temples. This entire day was already overloading you and the sun was still high in the sky — from being stumped by the shut down androids' memories, to watching Wallace cry over the body of his lover, to losing your computer, your way to make a meager living, to being choked (your neck gave a painful twinge at the reminder), to spending so much time observing Connor, and now realizing there was an android virus being transmitted, wreaking havoc — yeah, you were overwhelmed.

You tried to tell yourself tomorrow would be better, but even if you went to sleep right now in the back of Hank's old car, tomorrow you'd still have no job, no way to help androids, and there would probably still be an android-killing virus out there infecting them because you couldn't figure it out. Your gaze drifted back to Connor. Connor, who was still staring out the window as if he could see something no one else could — What was he thinking? You wanted to ask, but the longer you watched him, the further away he seemed.

It's not any of your business anyway, You thought, tearing yourself from his reflection. Staring wasn't getting you anywhere, and it certainly wasn't going to help you take your mind off him. You thought about distracting yourself with your phone again, but the jostling of the car coupled with your stress had caused your headache to return full force. You rubbed your forehead with the tips of your fingers, wishing the hours could pass so you could reach into your pocket and pop some more pain medicine.