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English
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Published:
2018-06-10
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taint the system

Summary:

While at a crime scene, Connor accidentally samples some tainted blue blood, and his systems disagree.

 

 

(original prompt: Connor puking and refusing to stay down)

Notes:

(See the end of the work for notes.)

Work Text:

Tainted blue blood is rare, so rare that there’s only been four known cases of it. Every case was the same: a droid just three or so program glitches away from being deviant consumed a dangerous mixture of rubbing alcohol and bleach, just enough to cause a malfunction, to taint their Thirium 310 so the information being pushed through their synthetic bodies is altered, prompting a breakthrough from order.

Connor’s only ever heard of it, only had new programs installed to warn him about it. He’s never experienced it, but when he crouches down to take a sample of Thirium 310 that’s splattered on the side of a flipped coffee table, the taste is shockingly bitter, far too strong, overpowering, and there’s suddenly an off feeling in his stomach, like one of his biocomponents is trembling.

Just as he comes to the conclusion that it’s tainted Thirium 310, he feels an odd, tightening cramp across his abdomen, and he has just enough time to slowly get to his feet before he’s doubling over and spitting up Thirium 310 onto the floor, right beside the flipped coffee table.

“Anderson! Your droid puppy is fucking up the crime scene!” 

Hank, who’s been staring at knife marks on a door frame in another room, frowns and stalks out of the room toward where Connor is.

“What the hell are you… Connor?” 

Connor’s got one hand braced against a wall, with the other wrapped around his stomach, and he’s hunched over a worryingly large puddle of blue blood that’s coming from his mouth.

“Connor,” Hank breathes out, an airy spike of panic coating his tone as he crosses the room until he’s at the droid’s side. “What the fuck is going on?” 

“A purging method,”Connor starts, spitting up a little more Thirium 310 until he’s able to straighten his back. “This Thirium 310 is tainted, and my systems were quick to recognize a threat and purge it in an… uncomfortable yet effective manner.” 

He feels far too weak; it’s unfamiliar. Standing is difficult; his knees are buckling, and his vision is wavering. He can feel the jolting burn of his LED, and he has to reach out and grab Hank’s arm when his vision goes gray for a moment.

“Hold on a second,” Hank starts, frowning when Connor’s fingers tighten around his arm. “You licked some bad blood, and it made you throw up?” 

“Yes,” Connor breathes out, voice cracking slightly, throat raw from the sudden burn of the blood. “I’m fine. I just need a moment.” 

Hank barks out a single laugh of disbelief. “You look like you’re about to keel over, kid–”

“My systems just need a few moments.” Connor assures, already letting go of Hank’s arm to test his balance. He still feels a little weak, and he assumes he won’t be at full strength until the following day, but he’s at work, he’s needed, he’s–

“We’re leaving.” 

“Lt. Anderson,” Connor starts, following after the older man, who’s already walking toward the door. “That’s not necessary. We should stay and finish the investigation. These deviants are incredibly dangerous. We need to locate them as soon as possible. Lt. Anderson–” 

Hank’s ignoring him, instead chatting with one of the cops on the scene until he’s given the clear to leave sight with Connor.

“Don’t bring it back until it’s fixed.” 

It irks Hank when the others refer to Connor as ‘it,’ but he’s not about to deal with the jabs he’ll most likely get for correcting them. So, he bites his tongue, only looking back to Connor.

“Let’s go.” 

“Lt. Anderson–” 

“That’s an order, Connor.” He can see Connor’s steps falter, and Connor’s face shows just the slightest hint of conflict, as if he’s fighting against his programming. His LED begins to blink, and Hank’s about to toss the damned kid over his shoulder and carry his ass out when Connor starts walking toward him.

Hank turns around and exits the house, knowing that Connor’s on his heels, and the two walk through the rain and silently slip into Hank’s car. Hank shoves his key into the ignition, but he doesn’t throw the car into reverse, not yet. Instead, he twists around in his seat slightly to face Connor.

Connor still has a little blue blood on the corner of his mouth, and it could just be Hank’s eyes or the dreary day, but the kid looks a shade paler than usual.

“You okay?” Hank asks, and Connor looks to him with a slight tilt of the head.

“Of course. My systems are–”

“I don’t give a damn about that shit, Connor,” Hank gripes out. “I want to know if you,” he pauses, jabbing his index finger into Connor’s chest, right where his synthetic heart probably is, “are okay. Just you. Not your systems.”

Connor blinks slowly, and while he doesn’t do it often, he blocks out the programs that are providing solutions for his current situation and answers in a genuine manner.

“I will be. I just need time to rest.”

Hank nods and turns back to face the front as he puts his car in reverse.

“I’m sure Sumo will let you have the couch for a while.”  

Notes:

Here I am.. Back at it.... Pretending like I know what I'm talking about when I attempt to write a sick Android, lmao

 

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