strengthofhisart | Empatheias Inbox

[As much as Connor attempts to keep anything from coming through other than what's strictly necessary, there's nonetheless a sense of fatigue to his voice, something unsteady and drained.]

I think I need to take you up on your offer again, Markus.

[He's going to end up owing the deviant leader a lot, isn't he.]

[For the other android’s comfort, Markus keeps a lid on his own emotions as well. But Connor’s tone has him worried.]

Of course, Connor. What can I do to help?

[Like usual, Connor gets straight to the point.]

I'd like to download the nursing programs you mentioned.

[As much as he'd prefer not to inconvenience the other android in the process, he doesn't feel comfortable leaving Hank alone right now.]

Can you meet me at my apartment? [And he'll send directions should Markus agree. It's another sign that he's not feeling it necessary to be as secretive as before, though part of it is also out of necessity.]

[Markus' worry spikes, to the point where the very peak of it teases at the link with Connor.]

I'd be happy to. Is Lieutenant Anderson alright?

[He's already throwing on a coat and telling Simon where he's going, as soon as he gets the directions from Connor. It's a sign of trust that the leader of Jericho doesn't miss, that the famous deviant hunter (as Connor currently perceives himself) would give Markus his address.

Not even for a second does Markus consider it could possibly be a trap. Even though this Connor is an earlier version of the one Markus considers a friend, he has no reason to think of himself as in danger. And Markus was the one who had made the offer to let Connor download his programs.]

I'll be there.

[He sends Connor his ETA, once he has the destination set. Since becoming deviant, Markus' programming has been messy. Disorganized. As he makes his way through the streets, he finds it easy to sort out, making it an easy packet of information for Connor to download, scrubbed clean of all the personal information about Carl.]

[It's a complicated question, with an equally complicated answer. The fact that Connor noticeably pauses before responding, not to mention that Connor's own worry resonates with Markus' through the link, probably makes that obvious enough. He picks his words carefully.]

It's nothing that requires professional medical attention.

[If he found it serious enough to require a doctor—and at the very least, he is capable of recognizing that much on his own—he'd be asking Markus to help bring the man to the hospital. For now, Hank isn't in any real danger. He supposes for that he can count his blessings, as the humans say.]

Thank you. I'll meet you at the door.

[And when Markus comes within view, Connor will be there as promised, though he doesn't appear as if he's been waiting. He's carrying a large piece of ice outside the building about the length of his forearm, dropping the chunk amongst a few others that are melting in the grass. For a moment he shivers and rubs his hands together as if to warm them, but then he notices Markus approaching and straightens up, forcefully suppressing any related urges. Still, there's something a little relieved in his eyes, even if the exhaustion still clings.]

[Well then. Markus' brisk jog slows to a baffled walk when he sees Connor...hauling chunks of ice?

-Strong emotions affect elements
--Strong negative emotions can manifest as extreme cold

Markus takes in the evidence at hand and, well. He doesn't need to be a detective prototype to figure this one out.

He lets out a quiet "...oh." Before looking back up at Connor's face.]

Did you want to do this out here?

[It was about what he was hoping for, so the detective nods in agreement.]

If that's alright.

[Connor's lips quirk briefly up, but it's a forced expression, even more than his usual emulations. He glances over his shoulder towards the door as he tries to lighten the mood.]

I'm afraid neither of us are in any state to entertain company.

Sure, yeah, of course.

[The response is automatic. Human, almost, in its banality. Markus had only needed clarification because he wasn't sure if Connor was trying to keep his android-ness on the down-low.

He tries his own attempt to lighten the mood.]

Given the state of the wireless signal here, I think a hard connection will be the quickest and easiest way.

[He offers Connor his hand, pulling his skin back to the elbow. It's similar to what he did to show Connor his memories and, well, this is similar in more ways than one. He's still sharing data, after all.]

[As much as Markus may be trying to reciprocate Connor's attempt at making the situation less heavy, the younger android can't find it in himself to continue the facade and react appropriately. He simply reaches out to take the deviant's hand when it's offered, his own skin disappearing and the joints glowing blue as he prepares to interface.

Unlike the last time, there's no real hesitation or caution at all. He trusts Markus enough not to think anything sinister is going to happen, and well... he needs this. As worried and emotionally exhausted as he is, the gratitude he feels for it is enough to manifest in the scent of fresh flowers.]

[When the contact is established Markus closes his eyes. The joints of his fingers and wrist shine blue as he copies the relevant programs over to Connor. It includes an extensive database on common medicines, their active ingredients, common dosages, and what they're used to treat, information less relevant to Connor's situation but included for the sake of thoroughness.

It has everything to do with basic nursing care, from how to start an IV drip (or just give an intravenous injection) to how to read different irregularities in heartbeats and what to do for each one. It has EMT programs and more intensive first aid than a generic good samaritan program, like diagnosing a myocardial infarction or cerebrovascular accident, treating various fall-related injuries from head wounds to broken bones, shock and blood loss, seizures, and different substance overdoses (including alcohol), as well as CPR and the Heimlich and even emergency tracheotomy. Everything Connor could possibly need outside of actually working in a hospital, and then some. Carl was a private, stubborn old man by the time Kamski gave Markus to him, and Kamski respected his friend's wishes by giving him an android who could fulfill every medical and household need he might have unless he was actively dying.

He never had the programming of a hospice nurse, though, despite everything else. Markus wondered if Kamski just hadn't wanted to confront the idea of Carl needing hospice care someday.

As the last thing, Markus adds his nutritionist program as well. Technically separate from his nursing programs, it includes a basic but thorough list of recipes and can be sorted into the main types of hospital diets (regular, restricted, therapeutic, and even soft or liquid diet, or any combination thereof). This transfer brings a small smile to Markus' face as the recipes download and he remembers each of Carl's favorites, something so small that he hadn't thought about in so long.

His eyelids flutter slightly when he opens them again, multicolored eyes refocusing on Connor once all the data is transferred. The connection lingers for a moment, neatly unwinding from their entwined hands before Markus takes back his hand.]

Sorry there isn't much of a recipe library, or anything to help take care of Sumo. If you want, I can talk to Simon?

[And probably go between them; between Simon's hesitance about the deviant hunter, and Connor's hesitance about...what happened to the Simon he met, Markus doesn't foresee them interfacing personally anytime soon.]

[Connor is grateful for all of it, right down to the tidbits that he'll likely never use and the ones he prays he won't have to. He had the very basics of most of it already—first aid, what counted as healthy and unhealthy for the human diet, and plenty of medical knowledge more suited for autopsies, the latter of which he obviously hoped would be mostly irrelevant. To have the new information all slide into place and fill in the holes he'd become suddenly aware of very early this morning is a relief, and he lets out a shaky breath when he opens his eyes and returns his hand to his side.

Connor shakes his head at the apology to dismiss it. Markus has nothing to feel apologetic over, although it's definitely a sorry situation in general.]

It's okay. I've been picking up a few cookbooks.

[A dark cloud is starting to gather above them, and the soft rumble of thunder reaches them as if from far away. Connor's voice is similarly distant as he continues, his focus elsewhere.]

Something for Sumo might be nice.

[Pay no attention to the way his jaw is trembling as he says it. He's definitely fine.]

[Markus frowns, brow furrowing in concern, and glances behind him to see where the clouds came from.

"Nowhere," is the answer, and that doesn't bode well at all. Markus reaches out and takes Connor's elbow.]

Connor, just come sit on the step here with me for a second. I want to make sure you're okay before I go.

I'm fine.

[Although he says that, Connor doesn't try to pull away, and he does as instructed after a few seconds. When he sits, he threads his fingers together between his knees, watching an unremarkable cobblestone on the path a few meters away.]

I'm not the one who needs to be worried about.

[Markus moves his hand to Connor's shoulder as he sits down next to him. He leans the other elbow on his knee, tilting his head to watch Connor's face.]

Lieutenant Anderson will be fine. You have the tools now to take care of him.

[His voice is steady, more familiar than his Public Speaking tone but still meant to convey certainty and confidence.]

Connor, look at me. You need to take care of yourself, too. If for no other reason than so that Hank can get better without having to worry about you.

[Connor doesn't follow instructions this time, keeping his gaze away from Markus. He doesn't know how he'll react if he looks at the other android and whatever expression he might be making. He has to keep himself together somehow, so he's staring at something unchanging, something that means nothing.]

I found him covered in ice, asleep.

[His voice is low, like all of the energy has gone out of him.]

If Sumo hadn't woken me up—

[The outcome would have been obvious. Connor hangs his head, gripping his hands a little tighter.]

But he did.

[The hand on Connor's back moves to the back of his neck and squeezes, just a little, enough to ground Connor but not so much that his sensors would register danger. It's halfway to pulling Connor against him in a hug, which he'll only do if Connor leans into it.]

You did wake up, and you were there when he needed you. That's what matters, remember that.

[As horrifying as the situation is, he can't let Connor dwell on it. To give him something else to use his processor power on.]

What do you need to do next? Finish getting rid of the ice?

[Even if the pressure did register as danger, it's doubtful Connor would have reacted much to it. The most he does in response to the touch is lean an inch sideways, more out of a lack of resistance than anything.]

This time.

[That doesn't mean it won't happen again in the future, and they may not be so lucky in the future. His response to the question is more automatic than anything as he thinks about the possibility, the temperature slowly dropping.]

There isn't much of it left.

[Markus clocks the temperature falling, even though he doesn't quite feel it, and in response he shifts his arm around Connor's shoulders, hand squeezing his opposite shoulder.]

That's good.

[He doesn't let go - he doesn't exactly want to let Connor go back in there with his own emotions unstable. Especially not with Connor threatening to ice over himself.]

He's a good man. I can see why he means so much to you.

When I had been taking care of Carl for a few years, one time he was in the hospital overnight, and I wasn't allowed to see him.

[Obviously, goes unsaid. He was just an android, and at that point he was just a glorified household android with a few extra elder care protocols.]

I felt... absolutely lost. I think I dusted everything in the library at least seventeen times. When he was able to, he called me to make sure that I was okay without him.

[Markus looks out at the pile of ice in the grass.]

Looking back now, I know that I was worried. But at the time I just knew that hearing his voice made it easier to keep the house without him there.

Of course, then he tried to convince me to break him out of the hospital. Which may have been his own stubbornness and his dislike of hospitals, but I think it was also his way of trying to make me feel better.

[Despite his previous stance on whether he should feel anything, Connor is sympathetic to Markus' story and makes no effort to keep that suppressed, a faint line between his eyebrows. But ultimately, he's an android focused on logic, and that's what ends up coming out.]

You were made for him.

[The dependence makes sense, for Markus. At the beginning, he wouldn't have been anything without Carl, even if he'd developed towards emotion in that time. He didn't have a purpose beyond the old man. Connor does, even if it isn't something he can pursue here. He was meant to be partly autonomous, not necessarily needing anyone as long as he had orders from CyberLife. The legality and access to information were the only reasons they wanted him to accompany the police. It doesn't make sense for Connor to feel this way, helpless in the face of an attachment he was never meant to have.

He rubs his thumb against the hand he's grasping tightly, a nervous gesture born from an idle animation built in to make him seem more real.]

I don't do what he tells me to, half the time. He's always just... accepted it, even if it annoys him. Even when we first met.

[Some of the other officers might not have been so forgiving. It brings to mind one of them: when he had a gun pointed at him for disobeying, only for Hank to defend him with his own weapon. They hadn't known each other for more than a few hours. For all his hatred of androids, the lieutenant had always treated him as something that was valuable, worth something more than just an expense for the station. Connor didn't understand it, and he still doesn't know that he does, even if he's ended up feeling the same way—placing a value on his partner that he wasn't supposed to, that CyberLife never programmed him to.]

More often I'm the one telling him what to do, and he does it. It's ironic...

[He wasn't meant to be a caretaker, like Markus, and instruct his singular patient on what to do. He was meant to follow orders from CyberLife, sent out to whatever situation they deemed important enough to investigate. It's not even like he's a mass-produced model designed be bought by whatever precinct he was assigned to. He wasn't meant to have connections, only prove that he could work seamlessly with humans.

Maybe it would have been easier that way, to not ever get to know anyone well enough to start caring.

Connor's voice is quiet, nearly a whisper.]

I don't know what I would have done.

[Markus doesn't know much about his birth or his creation. Much of the earliest parts of his life, before Carl had warmed up to him and started treating him like a son, is fogged in his memory, written over or filled with error messages. Sometimes he wonders if that's a consequence of being a deviant, or a lingering consequence from being shot in the head. Maybe he spent so long fulfilling his purpose as a caretaker that it persisted even after he broke through his programming. Maybe that's what made him step up to lead his people, the desire to see them safe and free.

But it's that caretaker programming (instinct, now, or second nature, maybe) that makes him slide over on the step, his and Connor's legs pressed together and Connor tugged just slightly into a half-hug. Markus' other hand reaches over and covers Connor's restless hands. His skin pulls back from his fingers.

He had hoped to let Connor just talk himself out of the depths, but he offers up a tactile link, putting forward enough support and encouragement and reassurance that even if he doesn't open the interface, he can still feel a trickle of it from the places where they're aligned.]

Hank is lucky to have a friend like you.

[He can't say that Connor won't ever face life without Hank; humans die, while androids are designed to last decades, even centuries in the right environment. But he has confidence in his own skills as a caretaker, skills that Connor now has free access to. And he wants to remind Connor that he's prepared now, more than just whatever basic first responder programming they gave him that might be standard for a law enforcement android.]

You don't have to be perfect. Humans didn't make us to be infallible, they made us in their own image.

[But Connor wasn't raised to philosophize like Markus was, to grapple with bigger questions of autonomy and personhood. Connor deals in logic, and action. When Markus had trusted him, he had immediately thought of what he could do to be worthy of that trust and set out to do it at risk of his own life, as if he had anything to repent for. As if he could be blamed for how the humans had used him and tracked him.]

You know how to help him, how to recognize the help that he needs and whether you can provide it or not. And if you can't, you're stubborn enough to convince him to see someone who can. [He's probably just as scared as you are, goes unsaid.] You don't have to be the only person he has. You're not his nurse, and knowing what I know of Hank, he'd probably hate it if you were.

[Markus squeezes Connor's hands, bends his head to catch Connor's gaze.]

Instead of thinking about what could have happened, you should go back up there and cherish the fact that it didn't. Whatever you need to reassure yourself that he's alive now, and for now the danger is passed.

[Connor is too shaken to put up any pretense of distance between them, and when he's pulled closer, his head finds its way to settle against Markus' shoulder without thought. Physical reassurance hasn't been something he's ever considered as something an android would need, especially not him, but every time he's found himself facing situations where malfunctions and irrational prompts overpower his logic, it's a comfort that helps settle everything back into place.

His own hands reveal the white surface underneath in response to Markus', grasping for a connection where Connor feels like he's failed to make enough of one with Hank. Before the reassurance slips in enough to abate his feelings, anxiety and guilt throb behind the link, although he's doing his best to keep it rigidly contained. If he'd been better somehow—maybe Hank would have consulted him instead of a bottle of whiskey.

But Markus is right. Both in that Hank would hate for Connor to make himself his primary caretaker, and that he can't waste his energy on the what ifs of what's already in the past, not when there are still things that need to be done to make sure it won't happen again. He already knows that Hank needs help Connor can't provide, so all there is to do is stabilize the situation and find the ones who can.

As troubled as his gaze is when their eyes meet, Connor nods and sets his jaw.]

Yeah. [He reaches up to rub his face, the skin returning to cover his hands.] You're right... we have to move forward.

[Markus can feel Connor's pain and grief and anxiety, throbbing like a tiger pacing in a too-small cage. His heart aches for Connor, who's hurting himself by not acknowledging the depth of his feelings for what they are. He worries that when the floodgates open, Connor might get swept away in the tide.

But for now he seizes on the connection, focuses what he wants to say on the spot where their bone-white fingers overlap. You aren't alone. I believe in you.

As much as he can see his own bond with Carl in the connection between Hank and Connor, he knows it's not the same at all. Hank is a hearty middle-aged man who can still very much take care of himself. He doesn't need a nurse, he needs a partner. Sure, Markus' nursing skills may serve Connor well in the occasional minor emergency, and having them might be enough to just reassure him that he can handle nearly any situation, but hopefully he won't need to fully employ them for a good twenty, thirty years.

When Connor pulls his hand away, Markus lets his skin cover his fingers again, but leaves his hand briefly on Connor's knee.]

Unfortunately, even we prototypes aren't so advanced that we can turn back time itself.

[Markus gives Connor one last squeeze against his side and then extracts his arm from around Connor's slim shoulders, pushing himself up to his feet and offering Connor his hand to stand. The gesture is symbolic, more than anything. The one thing androids do mostly have going for them is intuitive balance and grace, it's not like Connor needs help to stand. But Markus is there to support him anyway.]

What can I do to help you? Is there anything I can get for you so that you can just stay with Hank? I can bring over a hot meal, or take Sumo for a walk after a while if you and Hank still aren't feeling up to leaving the house.

[Under ordinary circumstances, a man who nearly froze to death would certainly be in no condition to walk a dog after only a few hours. But with the magic here, anything is possible.]

[Connor doesn't know what he's done to make anyone believe in him, but his feelings are starting to numb slightly, now that he's finding the will to partition them off piece by piece and file them away until they're no longer so vivid and erratic. Or forever. Preferably the latter.

There's an appropriate raising of his eyebrows to acknowledge Markus' quip, but that's the most that he can drag out of his social module. He at least can take the offered hand to get to his feet, despite it being unnecessary. Even now, the strategic side of his programming recognizes that symbol, and how accepting those kinds of gestures is good for building trust, and he sees no reason not to.

The guilt pulls at him a little again at taking Markus' offer to help further, though, even if he ultimately decides to take it. He knows he needs the help.]

We have groceries. [Food, at least, won't be a problem. They have a stove that's good enough for most basic tasks.] It might be good to let Sumo out later. I'll let you know.

[Connor will have to debate with himself whether to ask for some kind of healer or to try to keep things private, which he's sure Hank would prefer, as far as whether the man would be able to handle Sumo later. Either way, having someone to help with the Saint Bernard will mean Connor doesn't necessarily have to take his eyes off the lieutenant.]

[Markus doesn't immediately let go of Connor's hand. He puts his other hand on Connor's shoulder and squeezes supportively.]

I'm here for you, whatever you need. Just keep me updated, alright?

[Connor nods to the request, a tired-looking gaze on a spot on the wall at first, but after a moment he lifts his eyes to express his gratitude properly.]

Thank you, Markus. [He lets out an artificial breath, the tension in his shoulders unwinding slightly. He has things to do—temperatures to check, a stove to turn on... and maybe a few issues to discuss. As anxious as he is about it, he doesn't feel quite as helpless.] I really owe you.

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strengthofhisart - 2018-11-12 03:53 (UTC) - Expand

Empatheias Inbox

10/21 - voice; dumps self in your inbox...... again

opens my arms wide

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Now all you need is firefighting and you’ll be the Ultimate First Responder, Connor

he will be the best robot ever!! move over rA9

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