Published: July 20th, 2018 Edited: August 11th, 2018

You turned around to see two doors ahead of you. At the farthest end, Hank held his hand on a box sticking out of the wall, and the door slid open automatically. It took you a second, but you eventually walked inside. The walls were bland and unfurnished. All that was in the room was a table and two chairs, with lights above making a buzzing noise. On one side of the wall was a mirror, but it looked different. Hank noticed you looking at it.
"That's a see-through glass window. We can't see through it, but Connor and another officer on the other side can." He explained. You sat down. The idea of people being able to see you set you on edge.
"Alright." Hank sighed, sitting across from you. "I feel like this won't get anywhere, but we're going to try." His voice echoed. You absentmindedly fiddled with your fingers.
"Just know that if you confess to anything, it will most likely not get you in any trouble. You're the victim." Hank stared at you. You nodded. There was a moment of silence as you both thought over the situation.
"Those bruises. Do you remember where they came from?" He asked slowly. You frowned. Didn't you already tell them you can't remember anything? You're useless to them.
"No." You answered truthfully. He sighed, leaning back.
"Did you make those injuries yourself?" You shook your head. He continued asking questions, not seeming to put much effort into his words.
"There was a cooking pan in the kitchen next to the bathroom. Did that have anything to do with it?" Hank's blue eyes pierced through you.
"...N-No. What's a cooking pan again?" You asked weakly.
"A pan. That you cook things in." He seemed to notice the confusion written on your face.
"Just ask Connor later." You nodded. This wasn't getting anywhere. Why was he even trying to interrogate a girl with memory loss?
"Why did we find you in the bathroom? Did someone bring you there...or did you get there yourself?" He asked while leaning on the table, his face now a foot away from you.
"I don't remember anything. I can't think of anything anymore." You held in tears of frustration. "Didn't you hear what the doctor said?"
"No, I didn't. But Connor told me, and he always tells the truth. He's programmed to." Hank leaned back once more, crossing his arms across his chest. He shut his eyes tight for a second. Then he suddenly stood up.
"Listen. I didn't want to do this, but you leave me no choice." Hank pounded a fist into the table. "Either you're faking all of this shit, or Connor lied!" He raised his voice. You scooted back in the chair. You've never heard him speak like this in your time knowing him.
"What! W...Why would I fake this?" Your voice cracked. He was now pacing back and forth.
"Stop asking me the questions, dammit!" Hank spat. "You do realize that I'm questioning you, right? So talk!" You pushed down the feeling of fear inside of you. Lying wouldn't get you anywhere, so you decided to speak.
"The only thing I remember is being cold, noticing lights that weren't supposed to be on, and...everything hurt so much! My arms, my face, my head...Then I heard footsteps, and Connor found me." Hank stopped pacing, allowing you to talk without the annoying sound of shoes slapping the floor continuously.
"I met him in the bathroom, and...and he asked me my name. I-I couldn't remember. I realized I couldn't remember anything. But he was so kind. And patient...and-" You then proceeded to murmur off into incoherent blabber. Hank had a weird look on his face. You couldn't make it out. He then looked into the see-through mirror.
"Connor, get in here."
You felt a pang of excitement in your heart, but you weren't sure why. Hank left the room and Connor entered the room quickly after. He took his seat across from you, his eyes not leaving yours for one second. They were hypnotizing to look at. You snapped awake when he began to speak.
"We got a call from a concerned neighbor at six-forty five yesterday. They said that they saw an Android running out of the house you were found in. Can you explain this?" Connor's voice was intent. He wasn't going to stop asking questions until he got an answer he was satisfied with.
"No. No, I can't." You looked down at the table. He rested his arms on the table and held his hands together.
"Did you own an Android?" This time, you actually thought. You didn't know much about Androids, except for what Connor told you at the hospital. Would you buy an Android? If so, ...why?
"I can't remember. I don't know why I would want to buy one." You answered quietly. Even when you looked away, you felt his glassy eyes staring directly at you. It was an uncomfortable feeling, considering the situation you were in.
"Do you think that home was yours?" Connor asked. The home appeared clean and pretty...it felt nice to you.
"Maybe. I liked the way it was decorated." A shy smiled appeared on your lips.
"Did any of your memories come back to you as Officer Miller walked you out of the home?" Your eyes gazed off to the side. You knew it would look suspicious, but you couldn't help it. Anything to get those eyes away from you.
"No." You sighed. Connor returned to his normal sitting position. You knew you were starting to stump him. But he wouldn't stop now. You saw him examining you, like he did as you left the crime scene that night. He seemed to be looking at you for longer than usual. Connor suddenly had a look of accomplishment on his face.
"I just scanned your personal information. It says your name is Y/N L/N. Do you recognize that name?" He asked you. You were about to say no, when you stopped yourself. What if that was actually your name? Your face grew into a stern one. It hurt to think like this too much. Connor leaned forward to see your face. You saw his glistening eyes and perfect face in front of you. Then, you felt...tears?
"I don't remember. I..." Something about him made you crack under pressure.
"Why? Why can't I remember?" You stood up out of the chair. Connor immediately turned to the see-through mirror and held a hand up. You dragged a hand down your face, letting your fingernails dig into your already hurt skin.
"I can't remember a damn thing! Why? I can't even remember why I can't remember!" Your voice raised uncontrollably. Your body began to shake uncontrollably, as your breaths came in and out unevenly. Connor cautiously stood up from the chair.
"I know you're upset, but...please listen to me." He spoke. His voice was smooth as silk and helped you calm down, if only a tiny bit. You stifled a sob.
"I am. I'm listening, I just..." Without warning, salty tears streamed down your reddened cheeks. You began pacing back and forth in the corner you were positioned in, across from the door and closest to the mirror. Your arms swung down to your sides.
"Why am I so useless!? I just want to help you solve this mess, but I can't!" You yelled. The echo of your voice scared you. You just realized how out of hand you had just gotten. The air grew stiff, as you both stood in place. Your hands clutched to your arms, as a way of comforting yourself. It didn't work. The last few remaining tears on your face rolled off, plopping onto the floor below.
"I..." Connor was now a few feet away from you. You tried to speak but he spoke for you.
"I understand why you're frustrated. We can discuss this later." He forced a smile. You knew he was trying. He really was trying to make you feel better, even if it went against his programming. As you thought, your fingers traced against your bruises and cuts on your arms.
"Yeah. Yeah, we can." You sniffled. "...I trust you Connor. I believe you, too." Connor stepped forward.
"That's good to hear, Y/N." He said your supposed name. The two of you stood in silence.
"...I hear humans like to hug in situations like this. Would you like to?" Connor asked, holding out his arms. You glanced at him. Your mind told you not to, but...something about him made you feel welcomed. Especially after how he just made you go from outright yelling to a gentle crying mess. You stepped forward, and let him wrap his arms around your shoulders. It felt great.

This chapter was really fun to write. Although I'm kind of sad I didn't get to write Connor getting all serious, it just wouldn't fit in this chapter. Would you want an extra short chapter where he does start yelling at you? For some reason? We love a serious sisterrr
Until next time!