Chapter Text
Connor gasped as the phone rang, his arm curled around his abdomen. The pain was too much. He was struggling to breathe, to think.
Please, please, he begged silently, his slick fingers clinging to the phone, terrified of dropping it. But it just rang and rang as Hank didn’t pick up and Connor shuddered and curled forwards around the knife that was still in his stomach. He knew he’d been stabbed five times but his sensors couldn’t separate them; his torso was simply a mass of agony and there was blue blood everywhere. Connor was choking on it and his optics were glitching. He didn’t dare take the knife out of the final wound, not when his healing wasn’t working. He’d already lost twenty-seven percent of his blood and it was pooled, congealing, around him, sticking his shirt to his chest. He couldn’t afford to lose any more.
Slumped on wet concrete, he was leaning heavily against a wall in a dingy alley and he pressed his forehead briefly to the rough brick, allowing himself just a moment to drag himself through the intensity of the pain, his sensors shot to shit. He couldn’t have called Hank without the phone now; he simply didn’t have the power to make the connection, but he was still going to die here if Hank didn’t fucking pick up. No-one knew where he was because he’d been an idiot and hadn’t told anyone where he was going. No-one would find him, or if some stranger stumbled over him, he doubted they’d care about rebooting a deactivated android.
He fumbled with the bloody screen, calling Hank again. The phone rang steadily, uncaring of his harsh breaths, his pain. Hank couldn’t, or wouldn’t, pick up.
Connor closed his eyes, feeling nauseous. There was thirium in places it wasn’t supposed to be and his body wanted to expel it, but he didn’t have the strength. His breath stuck in his throat and there was blue blood seeping down his chin. Perhaps if he’d been unable to feel pain, as he used not to, he would be able to drag himself up and save himself. But he couldn’t. Breathing hurt and just the slightest shifts of movement needed to operate the phone left him sobbing breathlessly.
He had wondered at the small pains of his first papercut, had yelped when he first stubbed his toe and felt the discomfort of it. But this; this was like he had spent the last six months being touched only with feathers, only to be hit with a baseball bat. It was unsurmountable.
He wanted to hear Hank’s voice just one more time, but they’d argued and perhaps the human would be relieved if he just…disappeared. Would be glad to have been freed from the burden of the deviant android who trailed behind him, demanding his attention and irritating him. More blood bubbled out of his mouth and Connor leaned his head back in exhaustion.
Connor knew that his LED was spinning red because the light of it was being reflected back at him by the blue blood seeping out of it, turning the liquid a flickering purple.
Connor had spent his water reserves with his crying, and with all the blood that had left him, so his sobs were dry and soundless. He pressed Hank’s name again with shaking fingers. The blue blood had grown cold and tacky on his skin. Connor clung to the phone, closing his eyes as it starting ringing again. Please, he thought, please.
“-for fuck’s sake, Connor,” Hank’s voice came thick and irritated down the phone, “if you don’t stop ringin’ me-”
Connor choked in shock, “Hank,” he croaked, relief just to hear the human again rising up in him in a wave.
“-I’ll fucking,” Hank continued before he broke off sharply. “You sound strange, Con,” he said and Connor could hear the frown in his voice, could imagine Hank’s face. Connor couldn’t form words, his throat sticky with regurgitated blue blood. “What’re you calling for?” He heard Hank sigh, “Look, if you want to do a whole big talk, I don’t got time-”
Connor coughed, trying to clear his throat and Hank stopped, “Hank,” Connor managed, just a rasp, “I need help. Please, please,” he begged, “I’m- I’m losing blood.” Please come, he added silently. Please, I don’t want to die alone.
“Fuck,” Hank said, alarmed. “Where are you?” Connor could hear Hank moving, hear his breathing. “I’m coming, Con, just tell me where you are, son, okay? Connor? Connor?”
Connor dragged himself back to consciousness enough to pry the memory of his location from the mess of his fractured memories.
He relayed it to Hank, before breaking into coughing. “I’m gonna die, Hank,” he said. He was close to passing out, too much blood lost. Forty percent loss had come and gone. His processors weren’t working properly, his sensors corrupted.
“Fuck no, you’re not,” Hank said, sounding ragged. Connor could hear the sound of an engine.
“I’m sorry,” Connor choked. “I’m sorry ‘bout what I said, and being a,” he coughed again, “a burden.” His thirium pump was struggling in his chest, sending flashing warnings across his display. He dismissed them but they flooded back in again, urgent, listing all the things wrong with him. He knew what was wrong- he could feel every inch of the pain of it. “You deserved better,” Connor said, barely a breath.
“Bullshit,” Hank said, sounding winded. “Fuck Connor, you stay with me, you hear me? You fucking stay awake, I need you. You hear me Connor? Talk to me.” His tone was demanding. Scared.
Connor hummed softly, all he could manage. He was fading, he could feel it. Perhaps Hank would be able to get him uploaded in a new body, new components, but deviants tended not to be brought up again like that, unless they had a human close who could pay for it. Deviants lived with a human’s agency, but they also died with human finality.
“Okay, good, Con,” Hank’s voice was thick in his ear, the only thing he was hanging onto, but his audio processor was going to go in a minute; there were warnings blaring at him. “Stay awake. God, you fucker, I’m almost there, hang on-”
Connor tried. He wanted to see Hank’s face again, see his grey eyes, but he couldn’t do it and he was sliding sideways down the wall just as his optical unit failed and he blacked out.