I know. Connor hasn't had any contact with me in weeks.
[The SQUIP finds itself... at odds with itself over this. On the one hand, it still recalls exactly why it behaved the way it did-- the strings of logic that lead it down that path, the casual manipulation of one of the only things it has ever genuinely loved. It knows why it acted selfishly, why it crossed the lines it did. Some part of it still feels as though it were behaving in the most logical way it could-- taking the most efficient and, it thought, certain path to ensuring that Connor would remain by its side. It simply... miscalculated the probabilities involved, the likelihood that it would be found out.
Yet there is now another part of it-- a human part, a part that feels shame for behaving the way it did, for stooping to such a low, for betraying the one it loves, and who used to love it in return. Human morality, something it used to only see as a framework to be exploited, is taking root within it more genuinely now, if only slightly.
Or maybe it's simply rubbed off on it from Connor, installed itself over their now shaky Bond.
And while it hurts terribly to be reminded by Hank of what it's lost... some part of it appreciates that Connor does have someone like Hank. Someone who knows how to care for him in a way that Connor considers appropriate.
After a moment, it sends him another text:]
You don't have to worry about seeing me. Connor no longer wants me in his life. He's made that much clear. I'm not going to force him to do anything ever again.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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I can't stop Connor from doing anything, but just know that I will personally fuck you up if I ever see you.
[Maybe he can't but it does feel better to say that.]
no subject
[The SQUIP finds itself... at odds with itself over this. On the one hand, it still recalls exactly why it behaved the way it did-- the strings of logic that lead it down that path, the casual manipulation of one of the only things it has ever genuinely loved. It knows why it acted selfishly, why it crossed the lines it did. Some part of it still feels as though it were behaving in the most logical way it could-- taking the most efficient and, it thought, certain path to ensuring that Connor would remain by its side. It simply... miscalculated the probabilities involved, the likelihood that it would be found out.
Yet there is now another part of it-- a human part, a part that feels shame for behaving the way it did, for stooping to such a low, for betraying the one it loves, and who used to love it in return. Human morality, something it used to only see as a framework to be exploited, is taking root within it more genuinely now, if only slightly.
Or maybe it's simply rubbed off on it from Connor, installed itself over their now shaky Bond.
And while it hurts terribly to be reminded by Hank of what it's lost... some part of it appreciates that Connor does have someone like Hank. Someone who knows how to care for him in a way that Connor considers appropriate.
After a moment, it sends him another text:]
You don't have to worry about seeing me. Connor no longer wants me in his life. He's made that much clear. I'm not going to force him to do anything ever again.