Connor leaned back against the dirty wall. The past forty-eight hours were finally catching up to him. He inhaled deeply, a weak attempt at cooling his overheating systems. Michigan's winter air was frigid, much too cold for a human. Thankfully, Connor wasn't human.

It hurt to remember that. Though, Connor had become deviant; it didn't change the fact that he was an android. An android, a robot, something to be used and tossed away. A fire burned in his stomach. Connor had the urge to punch something, hard.

One google search confirmed what he already knew; he was angry.

Why were emotions so complicated.

A distant police siren broke the quiet, and Connor just about jumped out of his skin. The siren brought forth memories he'd rather forget.

Namely Hank.

If Connor missed one thing about working at the DPD, it was being Hank's partner and everything that came with that. The snarky remarks, Hank's thinly veiled concern over his well-being, Sumo, and just having someone Connor could trust.

The last time Connor had seen Hank, the man had looked even more miserable. A picture of Hank's son, Cole, was laid in front of the police lieutenant. The man had a hard time meeting Connor's gaze, choosing to instead look between his gun and the photograph.

The only reason Connor had even gone to Hank's house was for the man's help in stopping the android revolution. At least, that's what he told himself.

In truth, Connor needed to say goodbye, needed to see his friend again.

But as Connor stood in the doorway between the dining room and the kitchen, staring at Hank slumped over the table, all he could say was robotic dribble.

Hank had gotten mad, Connor didn't blame him, and shooed him out of his house. Connor should've stayed. God, why didn't he stay?

He had a list of reasons, ten-miles long, all variants of CyberLife wouldn't let him. But, that wasn't true. By that point, CyberLife had bigger problems than Connor comforting a hurting friend. No, the only reason Connor turned his back on Hank was that he was selfish and scared.

Emotions had never been his strong suit, and that he could blame on CyberLife.

The police sirens got louder, sounding closer than before. Connor tried to seem smaller, drawing his knees to his chest. The trash bin off to the right of the android offered some cover from any onlookers.

The police were still rounding up androids; collecting and destroying them like they were little more than broken toys. They were, Connor mused, at least in the eyes of (most) humans.

The sound of a rolling beer can further down the alley sent Connor to his feet. "Hello?" He called, being mindful to keep his voice down. His eyes tried to see into the darkness just ten feet away.

"Are you Connor?" A voice, firm, and feminine, asked.

Everything in Connor told him to run, but he never had any self-preservation skills before, why start now?

"Who are you?" He asked, taking careful steps towards the voice. He really, really hoped it wasn't a carefully planned trap.

"Are you Connor?" She asked again, sounding slightly annoyed.

"That depends. Do you work with the DPD or CyberLife?"

A soft chuckle echoed through the alley. "No."

"Then nice to meet you, I'm Connor."

A young woman stepped from the shadows. Everything from her nice, white lab coat, neatly pulled-back bun, and clean face screamed trap. "Likewise, I'm Sandra. Follow me." She spun on her heels. The woman, Sandra (Connor needed to get it together), led him to a door at the end of the alley.

This was definitely a trap.

"Don't worry," she said as she unlocked the door. "It's not a trap."

Yep, a trap. If he had any common sense left, he would turn and run, save himself.

Thankfully for Sandra, he didn't have common sense left, and caution had never been his thing.

The door led to a doctor's waiting room. The strong scent of disinfectant permeated the air. Toys littered the floor. One of the toys, a stuffed dog, made Connor's heart hurt.

"Connor?" His attention snapped over to her. "Are you alright?"

He gave a curt nod.

"Then come on." She held open another door.

"Where are we going?" Connor asked, following Sandra through the long hallway.

"Examination room 3."

Sandra ushered him through a door labeled with a dark 3. The room didn't look like anything special: the usual examination table, sink, and chairs filled the tiny room. Connor didn't know what he expected. Maybe the entire DPD? He had already mentally prepared himself for Gavin's smug remarks. How disappointing, Connor thought, he was looking forward to that.

Once inside, Sandra closed the door, walked over to the sink, and sat down on the doctor's stool. She pulled a small cardboard box from one of the draws.

"Please sit," Sandra said from over her shoulder.

Connor complied, plopping down on the examination table. "Sandra, can I ask you a personal question?"

"Shoot."

"I don't have a gun."

"It's a figure of….you know what? It doesn't matter. Just ask your question."

"Why do you have a doctor's office at your disposal? I have all registered doctors and nurses in my database, and I can't match your face with any of the names.

"I suppose you wouldn't because I'm not a doctor or a nurse." When Connor didn't say anything, she went on, "my brother was the doctor in the family. This place was his life's work." She swiveled in her chair to face Connor. A fond smile graced her features, as she glanced about the room. "He was a good man, my brother, all he ever wanted to do was help those less fortunate. This clinic was funded by the CyberLife. A charitable act they called it, but to them, it was nothing more than a tax write-off, a chance for the company to get good publicly." Her smile fell.

"What happened?"

"The usual, CyberLife pulled funding after it stopped benefitting them. My brother used his own money to keep the clinic open for a while, but it only went so far. It eventually closed, and it hit my brother hard. He started drinking, broke off communication with me, and fell into a depression. He lost everything thanks to CyberLife. That's why I quit."

"You work with CyberLife?" The uneasy feeling returned to Connor's stomach.

"Keyword being: quit. And anyway, I didn't work with androids. I was the lead researcher on a top-secret project." Sandra lifted the cardboard box up to Connor's sightline.

"A cardboard box?" He tilted his head in confusion.

"Open it." She tossed Connor the box.

Catching it, he carefully examined the box. He had the strangest urge to lick the box, just to see what it was made of exactly. Connor could feel Sandra's eyes boring into him, so he opted not to do that. Gently, he opened the lid.

A digital watch sat at the bottom of the box. Pulling it from its container, Connor looked it over. "A watch?"

"Not just any watch. Put it on." The eagerness in her voice was both endearing and worrying.

Connor managed to get the watch on with minor difficulties. "Not to be rude, but it still looks like a watch."

"The top-secret project I told you I was working on," she nodded towards Connor's wrist.

"This?" Connor held up his wrist, turning his arm this way and that. Trying to see anything that would make the watch 'top-secret'. "Wait, that means you stole it?"

Sandra scoffed, "no." Connor breathed a sigh of relief. "You can't steal something you helped invent. Besides you need it more than they do. We were working on time travel before this happened." Sandra scooted closer to Connor. "This was the only proto-type we had."

"I'm sorry, what does this have to do with me?"

"Everything. If you could redo anything what would it be?"

Connor thought about it. "I would…..I would try to be more human and…..and I would be a better friend to Hank Anderson."

"What if I told you that you could do those things."

"Let me guess, this watch is some sort of time travel device."

"Why do you say it like that?"

"I just don't want to get my hopes up," Connor said, looking the watch over.

"Understandable. But, it's okay to get your hopes up." Sandra patted his knee. Connor met her gaze. "Just this once."

"So this watch…..how does it work?"

"There's a button on the side of it," she pointed to it. "Now, there are some rules you should follow when you travel back."

Connor's eyebrows went up.

"Nothing major," Sandra chuckled. "Just some guidelines to follow, so you don't get off track. One, if you start veering off track, making choices that could potentially put the revolution in jeopardy; the watch will shock you."

He cleared his throat, feeling uncomfortable all of a sudden. "I fail to see how that's necessary."

"People, or androids in your case, tend to revert to familiar routines in times of stress. And, believe me, it will get stressful. Not that I don't have the utmost faith in your abilities…….just….." she shrugged her shoulders, "it doesn't hurt to have some fail-safes in place."

Connor traced the paper underneath him with careful fingers; deviancy had made him even more fidgety than normal. "Understandable."

"Two," she went on, "if you're ever captured by CyberLife, the watch will self-destruct."

"What-"

"Number three, if the revolution fails than you'll be sent back here. And, four, if anything happens to Hank during your mission (heart attack, suicide, homicide); electroshock strong enough to deactivate you will be issued. In that case, you'll probably die, for lack of a better term, but it'll be quick." Sandra smiles at him again; Connor is starting to get really tired of her smiling. "When you're ready."

He presses the button, and for a moment, nothing happens. Sandra perks up as if she just remembered something.

"This is important: when you get there-"

Connor doesn't hear the rest.