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#losing my got damn motherfucking MARBLES over this image
halitophobia · 5 years
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Blind Eye - Two
Parings ⟶  OC x Hank’s Daughter! Reader (TEMPORARILY) , RK800! Connor x Hank’s Daughter! Reader (EVENTUALLY)
A/N ⟶ Thank you so, so much for the notes from the first chapter ! Btw, I’m really sorry this is a little late. I’m hoping for late weekly chapters? Every 10ish days or so...(I’ve gotten super busy, but I’m trying my best!)
Disclaimer ⟶ still don't own any characters from DBH
Warnings ⟶ swearing, violence, mentions of death, stubborn reader, stubborn Hank, spoilers...?, slow burn, sLoW bUrN, SLOW BURN, alcohol abuse (Hankster), angst, toxic relationship, eventual....fluff, happiness, cute stuff, flustered Connor, flustered Reader, all the gushy-ness, and ?????smut?????
Word Count ⟶ 3023
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 
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NOV 6th, 2038
AM 12:41:04
"Why'd you kill him?"
"What happened before you took that knife?"
     Pursing your lips and narrowing your eyes, you watch the HK400 through the one-way glass. Your arms are crossed, face still as marble except for the bouncing of your right leg.
"Anderson. Are you cold or having a muscle spasm."
     You blink, glancing down at the one and only Gavin Reed's hands leant on the desk, but as quickly as you do, your eyes are glued back to the window.
"Let's make a bet. Like the good ol' days, yeah?" that same sandpaper voice sounds again, making you frown.
"I say," he pauses, "they had a bromance. Carlos and Andy over here." he gestures to the android. "Carlos brings home this smokin' hot 'robette' babe wanting a steamy, squeaky threesome. Attic boy gets mad and," his right arm comes up, and he stabs the air while pulsing to a beat of 'nn-s, nn-s, nn-s...', "...kills'em." So many things I didn't miss about working here...
     That fowl scent of sweat, old leather, and cheese also known as Gavin wafts your way, and you do your best not to gag. I mean, does this hobo shower? Wash his hands after shitting? A loud bang draws your attention to Hank, who's clearly gotten frustrated.
"Fuck it. I'm outta here." he grumbles, entering the observation room seconds later.
     You slowly clap watching him scowl at you.
"I'm impressed, Pops. You really stated your ground in there." you nod, earning a chuckle from Gavin. "My turn." you smile, and scurry out of the room. You hear Hank's voice yelling at you to come back, but you're already halfway through the door to the interrogation room.
     The droid doesn't move an inch as you shut the door behind you. You grin, feeling a wave of déjà vu wash over you. You've done this plenty of times before. How hard can a life-sized moving Barbie doll be?
"Alright, you piece o' shit." you can physically sense your father slapping his face behind the glass.
"I'm gonna jump right into it, okay? Okay." you drop yourself into the chair across from it, leaning back and crossing your arms and legs. "I don't know how it works in your...command center up there, but you gotta tell us what happened."
     You watch it avoid your gaze. A painful silence dances around you, only to make your skin crawl with frustration. You swing your leg back over and let it drop below you. Your arms come onto the table and you lean down, to get into its view.
"Pssst. I'm not leaving until you spill." you whisper, staring into its eyes even though it doesn't return the contact. You push back abruptly and revert to a normal volume, "So we can just skip all this," you motion between the both of you, "and you can obey, like a good little bot."
     Immediately, you see the change of energy from the suspect. Your brows lift, amused at the reaction. "Oh? Not into the whole submissive thing? I can see you got mad there. If that's even possible."
     It shifts again, seeming to get more worked up. This is perfect, you just need to push it around. No better way to let off some steam.
"You wrote 'I AM ALIVE' on the wall, like a jewelled crown atop Ortiz's lifeless head. That's what he said to make you upset, right? You were quoting him? Because, well...I mean, how on earth could you think of that? You aren't capable of...thinking for yourself." you wait, and decide to amp it up. "For all we know, that man was innocent. Just enjoying his life, wanting...a friend? And you come along? To do what? To stab him."
     There's a warning knock from the other side of the glass. You brush it off and examine the android. Chest heaving, hands clenched and jaw rippling. The lips on its face quiver, words just waiting to break the dam. And without looking back, you chimmy-changa your way across the line.
"Twenty. Eight. Times."
     You hear the tapping once again, more urgent, but still, you ignore it. Can you shut up? You're a millisecond away from confession and they choose to cut you know? Your old man probably wants to slip in and take credit.
     You're brought back to your senses as you watch the scene in front of you. The battered automaton is now writhing under the chords which bolt is slowly lifting off the table. "Hey, hey, hey. No need to cause a scene. Suck it up, and tell me wh-" your vision goes black. Well fuck me...
     The second your sight leaves, it's back but doubled. Your forehead throbs, as if a pump were behind your eyes. That motherfucking thing head-butted you. You can't help the weight sloshing around your brain, making your head pound harder. You move to stand, but stumble into the wall behind you. Get. Up.
     You feel arms hook under yours, and start to get dragged towards the door. "Get off of me!" you snap.
     Your view seeps back into HD and you ignore the sting in your head. "I'm fine! Let me finish this!" your voice is a harsh growl, and you lash around in the person's grasp.
Who is this anyway?
     Then you smell it. Oh. Reed tightens his grip, practically lifting you from your waist, and before you know it, your dropped into a computer chair facing the interrogation room. Just as you start to collect yourself, another smack is planted on your skull.
Okay what the fuck.
"Ow."
     An ice pack falls off your shoulder and into your lap. Wow, do I get a massage too?
"Nice going, Y/N." Hank spits.
     You roll your eyes, pressing them into the ice pack. With your voice muffled, you reply with 'thank you'.
"No, I really mean it. You just jeopardized this whole cross-examination. You brought that thing near to self-destruction!"
     Your brain is hoola-hooping within your skull and this ancient dick lecturing you is just hollering encouragement.
"Y/N, take this seriously. You really fucked up." Gavin chimes in.
Oh give me a break.
     You groan loudly, hoping it'll make them stop. You really don't need this. You just need five quiet minutes, and you can go back in and get that confession. Easy-peasy.
"Earth to Y/N. You may have been bumped in there, but I know damn-well you can hear me." Hank aggressively taps your shoulder and the water in the pot just boils away.
"Shut up! Shut up, shut up, shut up!"
     You're fully turned around, eyes ablaze with fire. You're cooking both men alive from your eyes and the pain from your head disappears for a moment. A silent breath escapes your parted lips, and you almost whisper.
"Will you, shut up."
     The air is thick as fog. Your sight clogged with angry-exhaustion, their's with vigilance, for they now tread on very thin ice.
"My name is Conner, what about you. What's your name?"
You're. KIDDING.
     Spinning your chair right around, you're faced with an image of pure disaster. Sir Smiley-Bot is seated across from the HK400.
"You let the fucking android interrogate the fucking android!"
     It hasn't even been twenty minutes and for the second time, you're blood is racing around your body like a jet. Running circuits in and out of your shrinking heart. Does no one have common sense in this fucking facility?
"What do we have to lose, Y/N. You've already ruined a proper examination, what's so different in sending in the thing?"
     Hank's voice destroys every sense of calm in your veins. You're going fucking bonkers now. It's like they worship this brown-haired robot. Prancing around its steel feet, praying to the android gods above. You've come to a conclusion; you are officially the only sane human in this police division. Everyone's brains are being melted by the second and they'll all just become slaves for the androids. Yup, I’ve solved the case.
"Shh, shh, shut up. Listen." Gavin lays his hand on your right shoulder, which you quickly brush off.
"I was fucking breathing."
     He replies with a grimy finger to his lips, staring forward. You sulk in the chair, intertwining your fingers atop the desk. The ice pack is balanced on your head and you stare forward. King-Droid seems to be calming the defendant down. Seriously?
"I could have easily calmed the thing down, this isn't all that fantastic." you scoff, adjusting the cooling pack.
     Hank flicks your head in response. It sure shuts you up. I am getting favoured over a bottle cap. I leave for one year and all of Detroit's been fucked in the ass by Alexa, Google Home, and Cortana at the same time. This is absolute bullshit. Choosing these things? Over trusted humans? This is surely humanity's last stra-
"No!"
...come again?
"No, please don't do that!"
     All three of you are now leant toward the glass, your nose virtually pressed on it. All that stupid popcan had to do was threaten to probe its memory ooooh spooky!
"What..."
     A beautifully awkward sound of leather, wood, and the chair squeal in harmony as your trio incline forward again. If it weren't for the one-way glass, there would be three sources of breath in their own designated spots.
"What are they going to do to me?"
Baby bye, bye, bye, BYE BYE.
"They're going to destroy me, aren't they?" its voice is in a panicked hiss.
Ding ding ding! We have a winner!
"They're going to disassemble you to look for problems in your biocomponents. They have no choice if they want to understand what happened."
     This goes on for a little while, the honoured golem teetering between comfort and warning. You just watch soundlessly, intrigued for the outcome. Cold droplets trickle down your neckline, for the pack on your head had started to melt. You can't resist the urge to shiver, swiftly wiping away the excess water.
     Your attention is slowly dispersing and you're starting to lose interest. You notice your stomach grumble - right, you'd forgotten to eat before all of this. Come to think of it, you're starving. Your gut agrees and wails to you again.
"Shh!" Gavin jeers.
Oh please.
     You start to lift onto your feet, wanting to grab a snack, but are interrupted by a voice that has been heard to the very minimal. Seriously though, vending machine cashews would kill right about now...
"He tortured me everyday..."
     Your ass is stapled back into the chair, holding your tongue as its mouth finally starts to move. You listen intently, watching the emotions.
     You're amazed at how...real these androids look. This...suspect. Its..his eyes were saying something. His face held...pain. The way he says he was scared makes your breath falter. For a moment, you could really believe they're humans...with their own lives...own problems.
     But your eyes move to the annoying one and the funky lighted circle gives it away.
     Connor no, that hurt to say... asks more questions. And that's when you feel shivers crawl up your spine, vertebrae by vertebrae. The dark-skinned bot falls into a trance, speaking of ra9. Claiming it will save them all...that they'll no longer be slaves. You swallow hard, feeling regretful...and alarmed. You blink. You never know what these two could be doing in there.
"What if they're secretly communicating to each other? Through their...biocompo-nents...? you ask under your breath.
"As if. They can't mind...speak." the brunette scoffs behind you.
"Yeah? And how would you know." you bark back.
You're interrupted by Hank, smacking both of you.
The RK800 turns its head toward the mirror; harsh and precise. "I'm done."
     You jolt up. Goosebumps on your skin, hairs on your arms standing tall and attentive. That interrogation gave me the creeps...
     All three of you flood out the main door, heading to the one just a foot away. Officer Chris Miller tags along who you literally hadn’t noticed until he cleared his throat, preparing to move the aberrant. No...that's just weird to say. Suddenly, the room feels a lot smaller. Six of you is six too many.
"Chris, lock it up." Gavin commands gruffly. You notice how he eyes the RK800, the model obviously ignoring his warning.
     Officer Miller detatches it from the table, but it jerks from his grasp. Your eyes narrow and you lean against the door, feeling drowned from the new energy in the space. Like defusing a ticking bomb.
     Gavin interjects aggressively, hassling Chris to move it. You watch awkwardly as they struggle, both of them pulling completely opposite ways. You push off from the wall, starting to get impatient.
"You're making this harder than it has to be." you state, trying to get its attention.
     Gavin yells once again, only to get the same in return. Your childish ass chimes in, telling Reed to back down, and now it's just a trio of toddlers crying for their candy. You're telling the cheese-smelling douche to hold his temper, while he's bitching about being tired. Chris yells at both of you two shut up when you notice the thing across you grab the officer's gun.
Fuck.
      In less than a second, blue...blood has coloured the ceiling. The HK400 is crumpled on the floor, gun laying loosely amoung its fingertips. Nothing stirs in all six of you. Your lungs have paused, muscles and eyes too. Your gaze is cemented on the one now pressed to the ground. The eyes still and wide like any other human lying dead. It stares off into another realm, mouth frozen in time, halfway through an inhale.
     This is what you forgot about. This part of the job. This raw, ferocious beast that gnaws at your gut. Chewing, ripping, tearing your meat agonizingly slow. Always hungry, always eating away at you.
"Holy shit."
     You whip your head at your father, revolted that the same words escaped his mouth...at the same time.
----
AM 1:34:48
     Gulping down two pills of ibuprofen, you stare at Hank talking with his plastic buddy. You're leant against his desk, fiddling around with his pens and sticky notes. You sigh as you feel someone slide up next to you.
"How've you been, fucker. You looked like shit walking into the building cuffed. 'Thought you were the one being arrested."
     The grey-eyed dickwad chuckles at his comment, anticipating your snarky retort.
"Reed, I'm not in the mood." you grumble, wiping your eyes with the underside of your fingers.
     You can sense his frown and disappointment. There's a small pause, but sure enough, he doesn't leave you alone.
"Another fight with Ben?"
Your stomach inverts and you feel the need to throw up. "Excuse me?"
     He raises his hands defensively. "Woah, woah. Just asking. You just always seem to be having problems with that guy."
"Where did you get this from, huh?" you threaten.
"Last time I saw you, you were whinging about him on the phone. You weren't being discrete."
     Sure...you weren't, but that doesn't mean he had the right to listen. He's a nosy, intrusive, grumpy old prick and you have never felt so disgusted in his presence.
"Stay out of my life, Reed. You have no right to ask me that. You have no right to assume things about me, and you have no right to be a...fucking asshole!"
"That last one isn't even-"
You slapped him.
     There's a sliver of regret, but your choler has clouded your mind. Do I have anger issues?
     Next thing you know, Hank is lecturing you about having manners, controlling your actions, thinking before you do, blah blah blah. You've heard this all before, it's like you're thirteen again, getting pestered at for feeding the dog your lasagna. Or cutting off that stupid girl's ponytail. She was a wicked shrew...
     Behind Hank, you catch Gavin start to snicker. Absolutely not. You push past the bearded man and start to pummel the brunette's chest. And I mean pummel. Beat. Punch. Slam. Not one giggle leaves his toxic mouth. Poppa tries to pry you off, but he gets an elbow to the nose. Respect your elders, am I right? All this anger...is barely even from Gavin's stupid words. This is the rage from the past two hours. Tonight has been hell. Trudging through disaster after disaster. It's all too much. Your gums start to ache due to the tightness of your jaw. Your hands begin to shake, each blow somehow impacting you. It's like you're just beating up yourself.
     A pair of arms wrap around your sore body, ripping you from your poor...punching bag. Gavin's face is already swelling. Black and blue covering his skin. Blood as the cherry on top. He's dead quiet now, breathing heavily as he lays on the ground. But then...you notice Hank on the ground too, blood spilling from his nose. If Hank's on the ground...then that means...
     You look down and see grey sleeves, detailed with black and silver. No, no, no, no...
"LET ME GO YOU CLUSTER OF RUSTY NAILS."
"I'm sorry, Detective Anderson, but you need to calm down before I can let you go."
I hate his voice, I hate his voice, I hate his voice...
"I'm calm." your voice like honey flowing over chocolate mousse.
     You drop every emotion in your face. All of your tensed muscles fall and you seep into its chest. Its arms fall from your torso. You wait a beat, then completely turn around.
You punch it square in the face.
     You watch in delight as its face snaps back. It stumbles, just once, which truly is enough for you. There's a burst of relieve and triumph, followed by a sting and numbness between your knuckles
Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, fuck. Fucking fuck. Okay, so worth it, though...
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