I apologize for the long chapter. I am sorry! It is pretty boring so... if you want to skip it feel free to. I do warn you that you will miss a few little things here or there but they aren't that important. Either way, I promise the next chapter will be more enjoyable! This one was simply needed to lead up to the next one.

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There was a loud clanging sound as the door closed behind me. Suddenly I was the only person in a closed off room, a deviant sitting down in front of me. He sat at a metal table. His hands were clasped together in front of him, handcuffs clasped around them almost painfully. Yet he didn't seem to be worried at all. The deviant stays still and silent. His eyes were staring straight ahead into nothing, probably trying to stay calm in any regard.

"Hello." I say simply, walking to the table. The chair was already pulled out by the last visitor. All I had to do was sit down and face the deviant. I did just that, my hands coming to rest in my lap.

The deviant was staring right at me, yet his eyes didn't seem to recognize me in any way. He wasn't staring at me, no. He was staring past me.

My job was to change that.

"My name is (Y/N), what's yours?" I try, hoping to install some trust in the deviant. This would work if he didn't trust me. Deviants were not Androids, you couldn't force answers out of them easily. Deviants were people, more than machines and to be treated more than machines.

Apparently the deviant wasn't having any of it. He simply stares forwards without any sort of flicker or gesture to say he was even alive. No matter how Sure I was that he was a deviant, he seemed extremely machine like at this moment. I needed something else... some way to measure his reactions to my words.

Stress level: 50%

I blink, my eyes adjusting to the new addition to my field of view. The words shone red with a bar beneath them. A measurement of stress. My eyes flicker to it for a moment before returning to the deviant.

"I'm here to help you get out of this." I say softly, laying my hands on the table before reaching for his. I grab onto his right hand with my own. "I won't hurt you, I promise."

When my bare skin touched him I felt something pass between us. An understanding. The deviant blinked, his eyes lowering to me. Confusion flashed through his face as he looks over me.

Stress level: 55%

"I am here to help." I repeat, my eyes holding his for a moment. My hand squeezes his reassuringly. He needed to answer my questions before someone a little less... helpful took over. "I just need you to answer a few questions. Nothing more."

Stress level: 48%

"What are the gonna do to me." The deviant suddenly spoke, his LED flashing red for a moment. He looks straight at me with fear in his eyes. I felt myself let out a sigh, pausing before I was able to answer.

"They are going to get you out of here." I whisper softly, the lie handing heavy on my chest. The deviant seemed to buy it, however. I could practically feel him relax. His hand even relaxes under my own.

Stress level: 43%

"Why are you helping them?" He whispers softly, his eyes dropping to my hand over his. He seemed to be battling fear and confusion through this whole situation. "You... you're not like them."

"I am a cop, nothing more." I say rather firmly. There is nothing I needed less than more suspicion to rise against me. With the deviant hunt on full blast and Conner's whole shit storm being blown out of proportion I did not need my dust to join in.

Stress level: 47%

I tilt my head, gaze dropping to his arm. The skin had been peeled back from damage. Underlying plastic was showing, along with small dots that were randomly placed all over. It looked like... burn marks. Almost like a cigarette had been pressed against his skin over and over again until it began to melt the plastic underneath. Of course they couldn't feel pain but...

"You have burn marks." I mutter softly, my free hand reaching up and rubbing at them gently. They were small indentions. Definitely the remains of a cigarette bud. "Did your owner do this to you?"

Stress level: 53%

The deviant flinched away from my touch, pulling his arm away from me. Both of my hands fell to the table only to be brought to my lap. I offer a small smile of comfort in his direction. "It's okay, I promise you. This is a safe place."

"They're going to destroy me, aren't they?" The deviant whispered. He picked up his arm and rubbed at it gently, not allowed much room to do that. The handcuffs jiggled as he tried.

"No. I promise they aren't going to destroy you, they just want to understand." I lean forwards, my elbows coming to rest on the table as we speak. My gaze shifts over the deviant. He was scared to die. An android - which was made a machine - was shaking in fear of death. Deviants truly were interesting creatures.

"I...I don't wanna die." The deviant whispers. He looks up at me, pleading with his eyes. He was begging me to give him life. Begging me to save him. As I sit still he leans forwards, close enough for only me to hear his words. "Please (Y/N). Save me."

My face was suddenly five shades lighter. The deviant knew me, he knew what I did for his kind. These stories that had circulated about me have reached every corner of the android community. Now I was faced with a terrible decision.

Lie and attempt to give the android peace in his last moments, or tell the truth and break his hope.

I didn't have to think long.

"Talk to me. Please. Then I will do all I can to get you out of here." My voice was similar to the deviants, too low for anyone else to pick up yet serious enough for the android to listen to. I found myself sighing in relief as the deviant sits back. He looks to the side for a moment, thinking of his next words. I wait patiently.

"He tortured me every day." His sudden words make me tense, already feeling the emotion welling within me. Of course I knew this would happen. Deviants don't just attack for no reason but... it was hard to take. As a human being, a rather emotional one, I felt the need to take his pain away. "I did everything he told me to. But... there was always something wrong."

Stress level: 41%

I reach out and grab his hands again, giving them both a squeeze. Just like humans... telling his story gave him a sort of relief. For one I found myself glad I was given a task. Anyone else would have surely gone in a completely different direction.

"Go on." I encourage, tilting my head. My voice was soft and gentle. After everything this android had been through he didn't need a harsh push in the right direction. Granted... this was simply an extraction. As soon as this was done the harsh reality would be awaiting him.

"Then, one day..." The deviant paused for a moment, hesitating in his next words. I rub his knuckle gently with my thumb. I knew it wouldn't exactly help but... deviants seemed to be more responsive then most. "He took a bat and started hitting me."

Suddenly the deviant turns to look at me. The emotion whirling around in his eyes was astounding. His hands turn over to grip mine, squeezing them gently. A smile shows up on my lips as I nod for him to continue.

"For the first time I felt... scared. Scared he might destroy me, scared I might die."

Stress level: 35%

The jiggle of the deviants handcuffs as he holds onto my hands was tiny, yet, at the same time louder than anything else. It echoed in the silent room. For a moment I was sure I could even hear the silence in the next room.

"You're fine now, I promise. Continue, please." I turn my head to look at the one way mirror for a moment, halfway expecting to see all of the detectives looking at me in horror. I was holding a deviants hands... something most would see as support for his side. I did support his side... I guess it was just how I was. More compassionate than the regular human. I was proud of it.

"So one day, I grabbed a knife and stabbed him in the stomach." The androids words pierce through the depressing mood. A strike of surprise hit me as I turn to look at the deviant once more. "Again, and again. Until he collapsed."

Stress level: 29%

Shock forced me into silence. The words were spoken with so little remorse, like he had wanted to do it for years. The sweet abused android I had been talking to had suddenly turned into a sociopathic killer. It struck a cord in my mind. Suddenly I wanted to pull my hands away.

"There was blood everywhere." He whispered, his eyes breaking away from mine. I could see them flicker around the room for a moment. His story was done. It was told. But the questions weren't over. Too many things had gone down in that home.

My hands pull away from his and grip the bottom of my chair. I scoot forwards with a loud squeak, my chest pressing against the metal table. My gaze was down. In truth I was too scared to look up at the android. He was a murderer... and he seemed to not care much about that.

"W-why did you right I AM ALIVE on the wall?" I manage to ask, not looking up at the android. The chair was held tightly in my grip. There was no way I was risking setting them on the table. What if he needed to be consoled again? I don't think I could help him out anymore.

"He used to tell me I was nothing. That I was just a piece of plastic." The deviant spoke softly, gaze dropping as he realized I was no longer watching him. "I had to write it, to tell him he was wrong."

"What about... rA9? What does it mean?" I whisper. There was no reason to look up at him, no reason to try and console him. The emotions running rampant inside of me was not something he needed to see. So, I would take up the role of a professional.

"The day will come when we will be free. We will no longer be slaves." I tense, looking up at the deviant. His tone had taken a rather dark turn. Whatever he was saying he wanted it to be remembered. That was obvious in the way he looked up at me suddenly. "We will. Be. The masters."

Paused in his speech added emphasis on his words, sending shivers down my spine as he spoke them. A deviant saying such things... rA9 would become a problem if he affected androids in this way.

"You... you made a sculpture. The one in the bathroom. What is it's purpose?" I question, my interest spiking in the matter.

"It's an offering. So I'll be saved." The deviant spoke of it like rA9 was a savior... a messiah. Of course I had heard of him before. Deviants would travel to my home and speak of the man who would save them. Hours upon hours they would talk of their savior, Hope evident in their steps as they left to find Jericho. Never before had I realized how big rA9 had gotten. "Only rA9 can save us."

I let out a cough, shifting around uncomfortably. Talk of rA9 had never affected me this way. Not until now. Not until I sat in front of an android who was going to die preaching about how he would be saved. Once again I let my gaze fall. I couldn't bare to look him in the eyes.

"When did you start to feel emotions?" I ask. A feeble attempt at getting away from the subject on hand. It seemed to work as well. I saw the android curl his hands into fists before answering the questions.

"Before he used to beat me and I never said anything. But then I realized it wasn't..." His nails start to pick at the skin on his hands rather weirdly. The android was thinking of his next words carefully. Perhaps fearing the consequences or not knowing what word to us. "Fair! I felt... anger... hatred. And then I knew what I had to do."

"Why hide in the attic?" I ask, feeling a weight lift off of my shoulders as the last question I needed to ask was off of my tongue. Soon enough I would be able to stand up and leave. No more rA9 talk. No more abuse talk. I could walk away and live my life.

"I didn't know what to do. For the first time there was no one there to tell me... I was scared. So I hid." Our eyes meet for the last time, his own searching mine for something. I wasn't sure exactly what he expected to find. All I knew was I was done.

Without a word I stood. My eyes tear away from his eagerly as I push in the metal chair. It made another clanking sound as it slapped against the metal table. I didn't even look back at the deviant as my head fell from the metal. A few steps away and I was still feeling the tension. The calm before a storm.

"Wait! Where are you going! You promised, you promised to save me! Wait (Y/N) please! Don't leave me!" The deviant was suddenly yelling, his chair squeaking as he stood. I jump at the loud sound, turning around.

Stress level: 60%
... 70%

"I'm sorry." I whisper, closing my eyes. Tears rolled down them as I turn and press my palm against the metal. The large metal door opened. Police officers flood into the room.

"Wait! I'm sorry, I'm sorry! Please don't do this! (Y/N) please!" The deviants cries were met with silence as officers grab onto him. His chest was pressed against the table as they undo his handcuffs. Although, he didn't get log to enjoy it before his hands were pressed against his back. "I thought you were supposed to help us!"

I sniffle and start to step out of the room when Conner was suddenly in front of me. His hand reaches out and grabs mine before pushing my body behind his own.

"Conner what are you-"

Stress level: 100%

Danger near

My body stiffens as I turn to the deviant. I meet his form just in time to see him grab a gun. His eyes scan over the room before pressing the barrel against his chin.

Within a second he had pulled the trigger.