Deviant Behavior (Connor x Reader)

Chekhov's Gun

November 9th, 2038
PM 02:45:01

Demise had developed a certain scent.

Acrid and sour, drifting from a smoking gun. Burnt eucalyptus oil with a hint of singed flesh; Thirium leaking from a cauterized wound carved by a bullet.

Its voice was loud, and untamed. Tasted like fear lathered on your tongue. Felt like astringent needles pumping adrenaline in your overclocked heart.

Looked like a pleading android reaching for you in desperation, ignorant of his own peril.

Connor rasped your name. It quaked on release until it sounded like a curse rather than an assertion of love and concern.

"Why did you do that?" The broadcast operator who'd been standing idle gripped the shoulders of his fallen companion, dead on his knees from the shot you took, "Why'd you do it?"

Your jaw tensed as your captor pressed your gun harder against your head.

"Was it because you were protecting your pet?"

"He attacked Connor." You whimpered, wetting your lips as your hands tightened around the arm barred across your throat.

"In self-defense."

Connor was just hanging there, dying. Reaching for the knife with his teeth locked and lips peeled, gnawing at the pain from moving. You were helpless...

And he, was running out of time.

"I wasn't talking about her." The android stood, his dark skin illuminating the eyes that looked above you rather than at you, "Why did you attack him? Why did you give us away-"

"Drop your weapon..." Captain Allen interrupted them, "I'm only gonna tell you once."

Your boots shuffled to the left, spun in place and choking.

"You shoot at me, or my friend, and she's dead."

"I surrender- please, I..." The JB300 begged, "I didn't want to be a deviant, he converted me in the kitchen and I- you don't understand-"

"I understand you probably have no idea how royally fucked you are." Allen pointed his assault rifle at him instead, the SWAT team lining the sides of the door.

A frustrated sigh crackled through his microphone, "I know you're both scared. I know you're upset that your friend is dead-"

"You don't know, anything." The chest pinned to your back rumbled, "She killed him. He killed Simon."

Allen's eyes glanced at the body on the table, and then somewhere else – widening on contact.

"Shit, Connor-"

"Enough." The android holding you in place snarled, "Drop your weapons, and we'll be leaving."

"Don't do it-" Your throat closed as his grip cut off your protest.

A metallic rattle sounded off somewhere out of sight; a loud thud following a wince of agony.

"He took the knife out of his hand, he-" The other android panicked.

"Hey, look at me." Captain Allen took on a soothing tone, "You're gonna be okay."

You trembled, finding his red symbol bright in the sea of black helmets. Must be nice to have some of those, right about now.

What would've been even better is if he was talking to you rather than the android attempting to diffuse the situation.

"All personnel have been evacuated, Captain Allen."