Connor huffed to relieve the pressure in his chest. He gazed toward the rising sun, watching as it cast an orange glow on the snow in people's yards. This time of day was easiest for him. No one cast him pitying glances. No one asked how he felt that day. No one talked.
[New text message from Markus]
Connor sighed and bowed his head.
Markus: Haven't heard from you in a while. Just making sure you're okay.
Connor ignored the message. A dozen others littered his phone, and he ignored them all.
Josh: If you're up for it, we can catch a movie sometime.
Tina: Hey, if you ever wanna talk… I'm here. I miss her too, you know. You're welcome to stay in her room or something. IDK, might be weird.
Chris: Saw a cute dog today. Hope it cheers you up, man. [Attachment]
Gavin: hey asshole chris and I are getting drinks this weekend. Come be our designated driver
North: Are you alive?
Connor wanted to laugh at North's message, but the hollowness in his chest drowned it. He didn't feel alive. He looked toward the glistening city and swallowed a scream.
"I'll never forget the day we took that picture in the park." He wanted to wipe her tears away. She blurred as his eyes burned. "Please don't forget me." Her voice barely reached a whisper.
His heart twisted and he choked. "Never. I-I love you. So much."
They hugged. He squeezed her so tight that he probably hurt her. If he did, she never complained. Pressure built behind his eyes, so he clenched them shut. Tears threatened to leak past his synthetic lashes. His fingers curled in her hair. The other hand dug into her shoulder.
"I'll never forget the day we took that picture in the park."
Connor closed his eyes as his thirium pump twisted sharply. He swallowed the sting. Of all the things to remember, why that? He opened his eyes and squinted at the sun.
He exhaled, and his breath fogged the air. He turned and headed downhill to Hank's house. Slipping inside, Connor shut the door behind him with a soft click. Sumo lifted his head before resting it back on his crossed paws. Connor fed Sumo and started making coffee for Hank, who Connor could hear in the shower.
He walked to his room and undressed from his sleepwear. He pulled on jeans and a crisp white button-down. He peered in his closet at his growing collection of ties. He reached for a grey, white and dark grey striped one. His fingers brushed a black one with dinosaur bones on it. A lump welled in his throat and he parted his lips. His LED cast a yellow glow in the darkness of his closet. Connor snatched the formal tie and put it on rather aggressively. He slipped into a dark grey blazer and closed the closet door. He cleared his throat and blinked the stinging from his eyes.
Connor slipped on his shoes and walked into the kitchen, where Hank finished his coffee and placed the mug in the sink. Hank ran the faucet for a few seconds before turning. He lifted his eyebrows.
"You're dressed nice for work," he grunted.
Connor tilted his head. "I'm dressed professionally."
"Yeah, but… never mind. Lemme go brush my teeth and then I'll be ready to go." Hank left the kitchen, avoiding Connor's gaze.
Two minutes later, Hank emerged from the bathroom, wiping his mouth of toothpaste residue. He grabbed his keys from the counter, and the two left for work. Hank blasted his music as usual, though Connor got the distinct impression that Hank was drowning out the silence between them.
Connor's biocomponents sank at the distance between Hank and him. With each week that she'd been gone, he and Hank drifted further apart.
Two weeks, three days, and eight hours. He couldn't forget how much time had passed since she left. Since he lost Wren. His stupid, perfect processor wouldn't let him forget. He could relive memories to perfection, actually replay them, so he could watch Wren walk away from him over and over again. Somehow, it managed to hurt him every time.
He promised her that they wouldn't take her. She'd been so scared. He held her close and told her that they wouldn't take her, that Prometheus wouldn't win. But when Prometheus showed up, every bit of fight Wren vanished. She just… laid down and showed her belly for the beast. Connor curled his fingers toward his palms.
Why hadn't she fought back? Why did she let them take her away?
Oh, he knew Prometheus's reason—their barely-concealed threat to murder Wren if she didn't cooperate—but why hadn't Wren tried? Why…?
Connor knew he shouldn't withdraw from his friends and family. But he was sick and tired of the pitying looks, the condolences, the I'm-here-for-you's, the empty apologies. He noticed how everyone spoke in softer tones when he entered the room. He noticed how everyone danced around possible triggering conversations. He noticed everything, and it set his teeth on edge.
He distanced himself by pouring himself into their cases. The Human-Android Division had never been so efficient, and it was mostly thanks to Connor's late nights. He avoided stasis mode, though he knew the emotional toll on his systems required some time in stasis mode—eventually. He avoided his bed as much as possible. Their bed. Where he held Wren close to him, the feeling of her naked skin on his nearly overwhelming him, where they made love—
Connor jerked his head. He pushed the memories away. If he relived those moments with Wren, he risked losing himself.
He distanced himself from everyone because he didn't know how to behave anymore. How did he go back to how things were before? He tried, but he ended up adhering to the fragments of his programming, which resulted in his intense focus on cases. Part of him liked it, though. Working a case and solving it in record time kept him from thinking about Wren. It blocked the hurt.
Connor focused on their most recent case, refusing to talk to anyone unless it pertained to the case. Tina and Hank cast each other glances, but Connor ignored them.
"Alright, so, let's go over this again. Mrs. Dale was supposed to go on a business trip, but they said she never made it there. We've got a dead android whose friends say he was friends with Mrs. Dale, and was actually purchased by Mr. Dale before the whole Android Liberation Movement. Mrs. Dale's sister thinks she's missing. Maybe she just killed the android and fled." Gavin propped his feet up on his desk.
"That doesn't make sense," said Tina. "Why would she just kill him for no reason?"
"Women can be psychopaths, too," said Gavin.
"Yeah, duh, but psychopaths also like to inflict pain. An android doesn't feel pain."
"They get off on fear. Androids feel fear. Don't they, Connor?" Gavin twisted to look at Connor, who continued staring at his terminal, reviewing the evidence.
"Connor?" queried Tina.
Connor lifted his eyes slowly to hers. "Yes?"
"Wanna join us? We're reviewing the case."
"Oh," said Connor. He looked at the four pairs of eyes staring at him. He pressed his lips together for a moment.
"You okay, man? Your LED is yellow." Chris pointed to his temple.
Connor tightened his jaw. "Let's stay focused on the case."
Chris raised his eyebrows but turned to Tina and Gavin, who shared a glance before continuing.
"All I'm saying is that Mr. Dale had motive to kill poor Ian," said Tina.
"What fuckin' motive?" Gavin demanded.
Tina smirked. "Mrs. Dale was having an affair with Ian."
Gavin jerked his legs off his desk to lean forward. "No way. How do you know?"
"You're gonna need more than just a theory, kid," said Hank.
"Best friend told me," said Tina, lifting her eyebrows. "Plus, did you see Ian's bank statements? And Mr. and Mrs. Dale were having marital trouble recently. Actually, it started before the Movement. I think that Mrs. Dale was having an affair with Ian before he even deviated. I bet you anything that's why he deviated and left the Dales in the first place."
"Okay, your theory's not outrageous—"
"Not a theory!"
"Shut up," said Hank, "but that doesn't explain where Mrs. Dale is and if Mr. Dale is actually the killer."
Connor scanned Roger Dale's records. "His parents own a boathouse."
"We could check it out," said Tina.
"Hello? Warrant?" said Chris.
"We could just go… and look around… not inside, of course… see if we see anything suspicious." Tina shrugged.
"You mean walk around until you might have probable cause?" Chris surmised, folding his arms.
"I mean…" Tina's hands smacked her thighs. "We don't have much else. Dale's smart and knew how to hide a lot of evidence to keep Connor from putting all the pieces together."
"Or, you know, he could've made a mistake," muttered Gavin. Connor narrowed his eyes and looked at his fellow detective. Gavin ignored the looks that everyone gave him, pretending to play on his phone. "He hasn't been himself lately."
Connor jumped from his seat. Gavin flinched, looking at Connor with wide eyes, but Connor simply grabbed his coat and headed for the elevator.
"Where the hell are you going?" Hank demanded.
"The boathouse." Connor strode toward the elevator and pressed the button. Tina scurried, pulling on her coat.
"You might need backup."
Connor dipped his head and stepped onto the elevator. Tina followed.
…
At the boathouse on Lake Erie, Connor walked around the premises, his footsteps muffled by the snow. He stepped onto the deck and glanced at Tina.
"Careful, there's ice."
"Thanks," said Tina. She wrinkled her brow. "I really thought we'd find something out here."
Connor peered through the window. The boat sat inside, covered with a tarp.
"I thought we might hear crying or screaming… something…"
Connor scanned inside. The familiar blue glow of thirium splattered the walls and pooled on the floor. There was a lot of thirium. Enough to power an android. And someone let it evaporate. Roger Dale successfully avoided detection so far. Connor withdrew from the window.
"There are traces of blue blood inside," he said.
Tina raised her eyebrows. "How much?"
"Enough to give us probably cause," said Connor. He elbowed the window and shattered it. He slipped inside, creaking the wooden deck. The platform encircled the boat, save for a back opening where the boat could enter and exit onto the lake. The door ahead led into a sitting room. Connor trekked toward it, following the blue blood trail. Tina tumbled inside the boathouse. Glass tinkled around her. She crunched it underfoot.
"Ah, fuck," she hissed, brushing shards of glass from her hair. She sucked on one of her fingers. Connor looked at her.
"I can go alone."
"No, it's fine," said Tina. Connor opened the door and snuck inside the sitting room. Tina wrinkled her nose. "Do you smell that?"
Connor crinkled his brow. "I can't smell."
"Oh. Right. Well, it's not strong like a rotting corpse, but… I don't know. I know what dead bodies smell like, and it sort of smells like the ghost of one."
Connor dipped his head. He turned the corner and faced a staircase. Placing one hand on his hip where his gun sat holstered, he climbed the steps. Tina followed him. Connor reached the landing and dropped his hand from his holster.
Tina stepped around him. "Oh, holy fuck…"
Tammy Dale lay strapped to a pool table. Someone carved open her chest. Flaps of skin exposed her insides. The killer pulled on her ribcage, too, opening it up like a mangled book. Foam leaked from her nose and mouth. Her body appeared bloated. Connor swallowed and stepped toward her.
«scan…processing…complete»
|Cause of death: drowning from punctured lung|
|Dead for six days|
"She's been dead for six days," Connor muttered.
"Why doesn't she smell more?" Tina breathed, joining him beside the pool table.
"The cold air," said Connor. "Mr. Dale hasn't run the heat and the recent snowfall." He touched Tammy Dale's wrist. Her body appeared bloated, but felt hard to touch. Frozen.
"She was dead before we started the case," Tina shook her head. "Fuck. I'll call it in. I think we have enough to bring Mr. Dale in for questioning."
Connor nodded as he stared at Tammy Dale. Her eyes stared at the ceiling. He tilted his head. Tina thumped downstairs. Connor tuned her out, still staring at Tammy Dale. Her killer apparently harbored a lot of rage toward her, to enact this amount of aggression toward her. Connor left Tammy Dale's body and joined Tina downstairs. She leaned against the counter, staring at the floor with wide eyes.
"Was she… alive when…?"
"She probably died before she experienced her ribcage's mutilation," Connor assured Tina.
She pursed her lips and nodded. "All this for cheating…"
Connor folded his arms and leaned against the counter. "It is overkill."
"Hey, you okay? You barely seemed affected by that," Tina nodded her head toward the stairs.
Connor pinched his brow. "I naturally compartmentalize my emotions better than humans."
Tina snorted. "Right. That's why you're ignoring your friends and shutting off your emotions completely. That's totally healthy."
Connor gritted his teeth. He pushed away from the counter and stalked toward the door. "I'll wait outside."
…
Connor chose to go home with Hank instead of working on paperwork. They closed the Dale case, as Mr. Dale confessed pretty quickly to Connor and Gavin's harsh interrogation. The interrogation seemed to pass like a hazy dream of static and distorted audio. It felt as if Connor acted without… conviction. Emotion. The mechanical nature in which he approached cases jolted his thirium pump, but he also preferred the cold.
"Tina said you seemed out of it today. But you've been out of it for the past two weeks, so that's nothing new."
Connor clenched his jaw and looked out the window while Hank drove them home. His thirium pump panged, but he refused to talk. He didn't want to talk about how different he was. He didn't need another reminder that she was gone, and she took him with her.
Hank pulled into the driveway and parked the car. Connor followed Hank inside, only to grab Sumo's leash.
"I'm taking Sumo for a walk—"
"Connor, for fuck's sake, talk to me! Ever since Wren left, you've been… not yourself."
Connor narrowed his eyes. Hank averted his eyes. "Not myself? We've solved twice as many cases as we normally do. We're more efficient now."
"What? Now that Wren's gone?" Hank snapped, his blue eyes boring into Connor.
Connor stiffened. Hank's lips parted, but he offered nothing else. Connor's face crumpled for a split second as he tried to push away the ache surging in his chest. He hardened his gaze. "She is no longer distracting me," he choked, "I can focus on my job, which I've been doing. I've become so efficient that I expect Captain Fowler will promote me soon."
"Oh, so you're back to only caring about you mission?" Hank taunted. He stepped forward, his arms outstretched slightly. "Ever since she left, you've stopped caring. You don't care about the victims that we help. You just wanna solve the case, and accomplish your fucking mission. That doesn't make you a good detective, Connor. The job we have requires empathy, you don't have it anymore! Fowler won't promote your plastic ass if you keep this up!" Hank pushed Connor, though his touch was gentle.
Connor stumbled slightly, but he forced his expression to remain cold. "You're trying to provoke a reaction. I know your methods, Hank. They won't work."
"Yeah? You think Wren would like how you're acting?"
Connor flinched. "It doesn't matter."
"It does matter." Hank stepped closer to Connor. "Ever since she left, you've changed. You're not you anymore."
"And who am I now, Hank?" Connor snapped, scowling. "How am I acting?"
"Like a…" Hank stopped.
Connor narrowed his eyes. "Like what?"
Hank's eyes flared. "Like a fuckin' machine!"
Hank's yell rang throughout the house. Connor's systems stalled. His thirium pump plummeted and he felt sick. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment before glaring at Hank. "Because I don't want to feel anymore!"
Hank jerked back, his eyes wide. Connor's shout caused Sumo to whine. Hank gaped at Connor, who drew back. Tears pricked the edges of Connor's eyes.
"I… I don't want to feel," he repeated quietly. "It hurts too much."
Saying it aloud seemed to unlock everything. Tears dripped down Connor's cheeks as he clutched his chest. "It hurts, Hank. It hurts so much."
Hank's expression softened. He pulled Connor into an embrace. "I know, son. I know."
Connor resisted the hug at first, then relented. He gripped his father so tight it probably hurt Hank, but he never complained.
"I'm sorry for what I said," whispered Hank. "I don't think you're a machine. I was trying to get you to snap out of it."
"I know," Connor whimpered. "I want her back."
"I know, son," Hank's voice sounded tight. "I do too. We'll get her back."
Connor pulled back from Hank, avoiding his gaze. "I didn't expect it to hurt so much. Androids don't feel pain, but… I can't describe this any other way."
"You're preaching to the choir, kid," said Hank. "I wanted the pain to stop so bad that I killed myself a little every day because I was too scared to pull the trigger. I know it hurts."
Connor glanced away. His biocomponents lurched. How could he have been so selfish? "I'm sorry."
"Everyone experiences grief," said Hank, waving Connor off. He sighed. "Look, I know that it's probably easier to revert to avoid these feelings, but you've gotta let yourself feel it, kid. You'll lose your mind if you don't."
Pressure welled in Connor's chest and surged up his throat and behind his eyes. He coughed out a dry sob. He buried his face in his hand, rubbing his brow. "I miss her so much, Dad."
Connor sank to the floor, his limbs too heavy to hold him. His mechanical heart throbbed. Hank grunted as he sat next to Connor, who buried his face in his arms.
"I miss her too, son."
Connor rested his chin on his arm. "I don't know… I don't know how to go back to normal, Hank. I don't know how to pretend that I never knew her or forget that I…" He swallowed the lump in his throat. "I still love her."
"Well, she's only been gone two and a half weeks, kid," said Hank. "It'll take a while for you to get over her. She was your first."
"I wanted her to be my last."
"I know. Look, don't give up hope, Connor. I've got a feeling that she's not gone forever."
Connor's mouth tightened. He squeezed his eyes shut.
"You, uh, you called me 'Dad.'"
Connor parted his lips. "Oh."
"You mean it?"
"I… Yes."
"Good. Feeling's mutual." Hank patted Connor on the back. "Look, you know Wren wouldn't want you to isolate yourself from everyone."
"I know," Connor muttered. He pinched his brow. "Is this how it feels when someone dies?"
Hank sighed. "Maybe. Kind of. At least when someone dies, you know they're really gone."
Connor closed his eyes. "Why didn't she fight back?"
"They threatened to take her apart."
"I know," Connor groaned, "but… We could've gotten her a lawyer… Or brought her to Kamski to make sure she'd be okay…"
"Maybe in the moment, she felt she didn't have any options."
Connor turned to look at Hank. "Why do you really think she left without a fight?"
Hank pressed his lips into a flat line before answering. "Honestly? Some bullshit reason like they threatened to hurt you or something. They probably scared her, and she so she left without considering any other option. She's got a bit of a hero complex or something."
Connor turned his head away. His biocomponents cramped. "That… seems like her."
"Yeah."
"But how will we find her?"
"I don't know. We'll figure somethin' out."
Connor nodded. The ache in his chest refused to lighten, but he managed a slight smile.
…
Connor messaged everyone back, thanking them for their support and apologizing for his behavior. Everyone responded with well-wishes. North created a group text.
North: Okay, let's hang out. All of us. Tomorrow night.
Tina: Yes! I'm down
Gavin: idk
Chris: can't. I've got plans with the Mrs.
Tina: oooooh naughty
Chris: wow I didn't even say what I was doing with her
Tina: didn't have to!
Josh: Is this a good idea? I mean, I know some of us are still grieving…
Connor: I don't think I should isolate myself anymore.
Tina: aw, connor, I'm so proud of u!
North: Excellent!
North: I mean, not excellent that you're going through this.
North: But excellent that you're not pushing us away.
Josh: North, do everyone a favor and shut up.
North: Josh, I swear I am going to throw you out the window.
Markus: Please no murdering at Jericho.
Josh: Yeah, North.
North: Fuck you, Josh.
Tina: ANYWAYYYYY…
Connor: I can't promise that I'll be much fun.
North: That's okay. I actually kind of wanted to mope about this.
Tina: yeah me too. Still trying to wrap my head around the whole thing.
North: Okay, so who's up for this?
Gavin: sure whatever
Chris: can't
Tina: no one cares
Tina: also I'll be there
Chris: no one cares
North: Obviously Markus, Josh and I will be there. We're hosting.
Connor: I'll come. When?
North: Some time after dinner. I'm not feeding a bunch of humans.
Tina: :'(
Hank: Jesus you guys. 32 fucking texts. 32. 32. Shut the fuck up.
North: Are you coming or not?
Tina: LMAO
Tina: rapid
Tina: fire
Tina: his
Tina: ass
Tina: !
Tina: a
Tina: b
Tina: c
Tina: d
Tina: e
Tina: f
Tina: g
Hank: Tina
Tina: h
Hank: Tina I swear I will hit you upside the head with a Jack Daniel's bottle
Tina: I
Tina: J
Tina: K
North: I'll kick you out of the group.
Tina: aight point taken
Hank: Thank you. Yeah, whatever. I'll be there.
North: Great! See you guys then!
Gavin: are we gonna have like a candlelit vigil or something
Tina: shut up gav
Gavin: k
Connor shook his head. He laid on his bed and stared at the ceiling. He knew Wren would've enjoyed Tina's chant of the alphabet. He envisioned her laughing, her eyes crinkled at the corners, her head tilted back and one hand covering her mouth. His thirium pump swelled and then deflated. The audio in his perfect memory always sounded tinged with static and the image always looked slightly distorted. He could recall the memory exactly, but also not. He wanted Wren's actual laugh.
"I'll never forget the day we took that picture in the park."
Connor furrowed his brow. He sat up. If Hank was right, and Wren left without a fight to protect him… He looked at the framed picture of Wren and him, the park visible behind Wren. They were the focus of the picture. Connor stood and crossed over to the frame and lifted it. He turned it over and widened his eyes. One of the latches on the back was out of place. With trembling hands, Connor removed the back of the frame and withdrew a folded paper. He set the picture down and trekked to his bed. His thirium pump clenched and quivered as he sank onto the edge of the mattress. He unfolded the paper.
Connor,
I hope you find this. I'm sure you will. You're smart. But part of me can't help but fear that you won't, and you'll be left thinking you that I left you the way I did.
I can't tell you everything, but I will try my best to explain. We could've fought Prometheus and tried to prevent them from taking me. We might've even won. But Prometheus would've still had power. And eventually, they would've done whatever it took to eliminate the threat. They would've come after me, and more importantly, you. I will never be free from them. Not unless I do something about it.
I struck a deal. They won't come near you or the others as long as I work with them. They're not allowed to wipe my memory or attempt to recondition me or reverse my deviancy. At least deviancy in cyborgs makes it harder for Prometheus to control them, so… That's sort of comforting that they won't be able to change me. While I work for them, I'm hoping that I can work against them, too. I didn't have time to tell you all this in person, and I was afraid that they'd find some way to listen in… Paper is harder to track in a technological world.
I don't know if or when I'll see you again. I'm hoping that I can find something to take them down and set me free, but… I don't know if I'll be successful or not. The thought of never seeing you again tears me apart, but I have to do this. The nightmares won't stop. They'll never stop while Prometheus is still out there. I hope you can understand.
Connor… If I never see you again, I want you to know that loving you was the best part of my life. You helped me put myself back together. I was the happiest I've ever been when I was with you. I want you to know that I will always love you, and that I am so sorry that I'm doing this to you. I hope that I can be free and come home to you one day… But I also hope that you hate me for leaving you. It might make it easier to move on. You deserve all the happiness in the world. I love you more than anything, more than my own life. Which is why I had to go.
Please, don't wait for me.
I couldn't leave you without a proper explanation.
Wren
Connor's mouth hung open. He ignored the warning that his salivatory fluid ran low. He read the letter once, twice, three times. Another to be sure. He committed it to memory. He stared at Wren's signature, memorizing the large "W" with dagger points and the small, messy scrawl of "ren." His body tensed.
She left to protect him. She left to take down Prometheus. She wanted to come home. His thirium pump sank. But what if she never got the chance to come home?
Somehow, reading Wren's letter only worsened Connor's feelings. Before, she felt dead to him. There was no reaching her, no getting her back. But now, she felt just out of reach, as if she were on one side of a glass wall and he stood on the other. They pressed their palms to one another, but the glass between them kept them apart. Or, he reached for her and she reached for him, and their fingertips brushed, but neither of them could grasp onto the other. Somehow, knowing Wren slept in a lion's den failed to ease the ache in Connor's heart. He bowed his head, still clutching the letter.
He just wanted her to come home.
…
The letter seemed to weigh down Connor's pants as he rode the elevator up to the Jericho penthouse with Hank. He kept the letter to himself, not wanting to repeat himself. His fingers wiggled at his side, itching for his quarter. He tapped his thigh to ease his tension instead. Hank glanced down at Connor's fidgeting.
"You okay?"
"Yeah. No. You'll see."
Hank lifted a brow but shrugged. "Alright."
Connor exited the elevator and found North, Josh, Markus, Tina and Gavin piled in the living room. Markus and North stood to greet Connor and Hank. Markus embraced Connor and patted his back.
"It's good to see you, Connor."
Connor's throat tightened. "Thank you, Markus. It's good to see you, too."
The corner of North's mouth twitched. She puckered her brow and seemed as if she couldn't decide between punching Connor or hugging him. She decided on the latter and wrapped her arms around him.
"Glad to have you back."
Connor hugged her with his free arm, as his other hand clenched the letter in his pocket. Hank sat on the couch beside Tina.
"Alright, kid, spill what you've been dying to tell me. You've been antsy all day," he said.
Everyone turned their attention to Connor, whose face heated. His sucked in a ragged breath to cool his systems. "I found a letter."
North widened her eyes. "From Wren?"
Connor nodded. He withdrew it from his pocket and unfolded it. "I thought her last words to me were odd. She told me, 'I'll never forget the day we took that picture in the park.' So I opened up the frame of that picture and found this."
Gavin leaned forward. "Paper?"
"Smart kid," said Hank, smiling and shaking his head, "didn't want to leave a trace."
"What does it say?" Tina demanded.
Connor looked down at it. He read it aloud, skipping the final, intimate paragraph. He refolded the letter and placed it in his pocket and looked around the room. Markus's brow pinched.
"She's going to tear them apart from the inside out."
"Yeah, but how do we help her?" Tina asked.
"We can't," said Gavin. "We're just local police. This is underground government bullshit. The fuck are we supposed to do?"
North frowned. "So we just sit and do nothing? Forget about her?"
"That's not what I meant…"
Hank sighed and crossed his arms. "We could try and find Prometheus the way we tried to find them by tracing Wren's past."
Connor widened his eyes. His metal heart seemed to jump to life. Blue blood thundered in his tubing system. "She thought we could find them that way, once. Maybe we still can."
"But how would we help her?" Gavin said. "Not trying to be an asshole or devil's advocate here, but… Even if we managed to find Prometheus, what would that do for her?"
"I don't know," snapped Tina, "but it's better than doing nothing."
North balanced her elbows on her knees and folded her hands. She lowered her gaze. "You know, I was so angry that she left… without even saying goodbye… But it's hard to stay angry with her when I know she's probably scared." She lifted her head and looked at Gavin. "Whatever we can do, we should do it."
Connor pressed his lips together and swallowed the lump in his throat. He would save Wren, no matter what.
…
I'm back! Happy Valentine's Day, here's some angst. If you're new and haven't read Of Flesh and Metal Hearts, I suggest you do so that you're not lost. Please review!
Song: The Night We Met by Lord Huron