CHAPTER 2 | APATHY

NOVEMBER 2, 2038

8:33AM

Barbara jammed her dirty gym clothes in a duffel bag, which she placed carefully in an open locker while she slung her work bag over her shoulder. Punching in the code to lock it, she ran her fingers through her hair and made sure she had everything she needed before she headed upstairs to the precinct.

She was frazzled. While she never really knew what to expect day-to-day as a detective, the day before had pushed her out of her comfort zone.

Yesterday had been her first day on a new assignment, and she'd spent it reviewing files to get up to speed on the issue. So far, she'd been unable to come up with a logical conclusion as to why so many CyberLife androids were becoming deviant.

CyberLife suggested that deviancy was the result of a code error, but if it was really that simple, she was curious as to why the DPD had any type of involvement. Then again, she supposed they had no choice but to be involved, since many deviant androids had turned to violence against humans. She figured that was why CyberLife had sent their own prototype to assist them with the investigation, to clean up a mess they had created and cover their asses.

To her, the addition of Connor to their team seemed a little ironic. CyberLife wouldn't get great press from any of this if a journalist snooped around enough to find the case files. Lucky for them, the papers had enough on their hands right now between foreign conflicts and the Red Ice epidemic.

Barbara didn't know much about the inner workings of CyberLife's androids, so she was partly confused as to why Fowler had put her on the case. Any extended interactions she'd had with androids were during her late teens, and they'd become much more advanced and widespread since then. Technology progressed so quickly that newer models lost value within a couple months of their release, and another, more sophisticated design would take its place.

However, maybe the investigation would be a nice reprieve from the redundancy of the Red Ice Task Force she'd endured for the past year or so. Unlike Hank, she wasn't going to complain.

The DPD's gym was in the basement of their building, so she took the elevator up to her floor, weaving among the few employees who had already arrived until she got to her department, slinging her coat and bag over the back of her desk chair.

Barbara was usually at work before the rest of her coworkers, even if it was only fifteen minutes, which she did on purpose. Today, she was a bit earlier than normal, about a half an hour. It gave her some time to read the news and warm up a bit before she had to deal with any real assignments. Or people. Barbara was many things, but she wasn't a morning person.

There were times she wished she was a fresh-faced rookie again, determined to bring justice to all in what she believed was a fair world. Oh, how naive she'd been, to believe that it could be so simple, so measured. It made her smile now, in a bitter, seasoned kind of way; but she did miss the blissful feeling of hopefulness that had spurred her into this career path in the first place. Now every morning she had to give herself a pep-talk, convince herself over and over that this was what she was supposed to be doing, this was the path she was made for. Each day she managed to do the exact opposite, but at least she was too afraid to try and find anything else.

I'm here to make a difference. The mantra she murmured to herself when times got tough meant less and less each time she repeated it.

This morning, she wasn't alone. Already sitting next to her at his desk was Connor. His existence had already sent Hank into a hissy fit during their debrief with Fowler, and then again after when Connor attempted to make amends. She'd been acquainted already with the coarser side of Hank when she'd been assigned to train underneath him as a rookie, but things got better after time. Connor, on the other hand, was an android, so she wasn't sure if he would ever receive any type of pleasantries from the seasoned lieutenant. Their interactions were already laced with more hostility than her and Hank's ever had been, so that wasn't a great forecast for the rest of their relationship. Barbara wasn't thrilled to be caught up between the two of them, even though most of the conflict had been initiated by Hank.

"Good morning, Detective Martin," Connor greeted, his voice pleasant and welcoming.

"Morning," she answered, sitting down at her desk, straightening a stack of papers that had somehow shifted overnight, likely from the cleaning services. The desk next to her, where Connor now sat, had been empty the entire time she'd been working at the DPD, so it felt strange to have someone else occupying the space.

"Do you usually arrive early to the office?" he asked after a short bout of silence as she started up her computer.

Barbara nodded, picking up the newspaper that had been left on her desk to read. "Not this early, but at least a couple minutes before everyone else. I was at the gym."

Connor nodded, continuing the conversation. "You enjoy exercising?"

Barbara shrugged. "Not exactly," she responded, and he looked at her with a question on his lips, she continued on before he asked it. "It's just kind of….part of my job," she clarified. "I have to stay in shape." trailing off, she racked her brain. Her routine had become so mundane she couldn't recall her justifications for making it in the first place.

Connor nodded, staring at her with his big brown eyes. They were quite expressive, for an android. Maybe it was just her being an innately observant person, but she could practically see his mind working through them, trying to get a feel for her personality, her reliability as a partner in his investigation. His mission. He was trying to figure her out. Despite the fact that it was probably written in his code, some hardwired command to judge her capabilities as a detective, a person, she really didn't fucking like it. Unlike Hank, she wasn't hold it against him.

"Have you enjoyed working alongside Lieutenant Anderson?" Connor asked, and she wondered if he was asking because of how Hank lashed out yesterday, or if he was genuinely curious.

Considering his question for a moment, she was careful with how she chose her next words. "I've developed a close relationship with him over the past couple years," she said, but figured she'd be truthful with Connor, it might make him feel better. Although, he probably didn't care one way or another. "But he can be a pain in the ass sometimes."

She was surprised to see a slight smile playing at the corner of Connor's lips, she didn't think androids could have a sense of humor. Of course, she wasn't trying to be funny, she just wanted to be honest. He became serious quickly.

"I assure you I'll do my very best while working on this case," he said. "My success is imperative to the future of CyberLife, as well as the citizens of Detroit."

"Fair enough," she answered, and sunk down slightly in her chair to stare at the newspaper, hoping that his questions would stop and she wouldn't have to talk anymore.

In general, she wasn't exactly one for making friends at work. She had the few acquaintances she'd bonded with when she began at DPD as a rookie and that was it, most of them being her classmates in the police academy. Her coworkers often misinterpreted this quality of hers, thinking it contributed to her dedication as an employee, but that was an incorrect assumption. Detached from most of the world around her, Barbara had found it was futile to form any new friendships.

As a few officers began to trickle in to the office, she fell into her old routine, finishing up reading the articles she was interested in before leaving her desk to hit up the break room for a cup off coffee. Currently, she was trying to limit her caffeine intake, as it seemed to heighten her stress and anxiety, but without it, she was dead by noon. No one told her when she was younger that she'd spend her entire adult life perpetually waiting for a nap that would never happen.

When she returned to her desk, she decided it was best to delve back into the case files she'd had the chance to look through yesterday, maybe a second pass would allow her to gain some more insight or tip her off to some evidence she missed the first time around. People were now filling the office, so it was a good time to look invested in her work.

After looking through the files for about one cup of coffee, she hadn't found anything of value, and became aware of a subtle movement next to her. She was pretty good at tuning out the noise and commotion around, but when she glanced over at Connor to find him passing a coin between his hands absentmindedly, appearing deep in thought, she was a little taken aback. It seemed peculiar to her, that somewhere in his programming was this little quirk, a way to fidget that wasn't as crass as bouncing his leg or clicking a pen.

Watching the coin pass from one of his hands to the other, spinning, ricocheting was mesmerizing. Briefly, she recalled the viral video trend awhile back that involved similar hypnotizing actions, people playing with Silly Putty or cutting soap; Things to Watch While High. She nearly chuckled to herself, but was interrupted.

"I'm sorry, am I distracting you?" Connor asked, as he quickly pocketed the coin and she met his eyes, which were wide, almost sheepish, as if she'd caught him doing something he was embarrassed about.

"No," she said, then after a brief pause, added: "Interesting talent you have there."

It'd been a long time since she'd interacted with any androids at length, but Connor seemed much different from any that she'd ever met. He was a state-of-the-art prototype, she reminded herself. But there was a distinctly human quality to him, and when he shrugged in response, as if it were nothing but a little knack he'd taught himself, nonchalantly, her brows pulled together and she narrowed her eyes slightly.

There were parts of her that were suspicious, but others that were intrigued. She supposed that was the point, right? He was designed to be amiable and trustworthy, so witnesses would feel comfortable opening up to him. However, he was certain and self-assured enough that just by raising his voice and asserting himself during an interrogation he could intimidate a suspect enough to extract a confession.

"It helps me process information. I can teach you, if you'd like," Connor said, leaning forward, placing his elbows on the desk, his hands folding together carefully.

Barbara bit her lower lip and snorted, shaking her head. "I don't think I have that kind of hand-eye coordination."

"I'm sure you'd get the hang of it," Connor said, giving her a small smile.

"Maybe another time," she said flippantly, and turned away from him. He was being a little too friendly for her liking, and realistically, she knew she had to get back to work if she wanted to accomplish anything.

Skeptically, Barbara glanced back over at Connor after she saw him shift his body back towards his computer again. There was something unsettling her and she couldn't place her finger on it. Perhaps it was how eerily well-designed he was. Occasionally, she'd thought about the engineers at CyberLife. How carefully constructed most androids were was astounding. Designing androids, in her opinion, meant capturing the essence of a human, bringing out their strengths without including the pesky conditions of being alive. Understanding her own species enough to create near replicas would be impossible for someone like her.

Hank arrived about twenty minutes later, lacking the usual uneasy sway or pallid complexion that typically indicated his position on the spectrum of being hungover or still drunk. Sometimes, he was a little bit of both. Today, he seemed sober.

"You're early," Barbara spoke, and then snorted because it was still half past eleven.

Hank grunted, swiping the grimy coffee mug off his desk and retreating to the break room. He shot Connor a dirty look for good measure, and she realized that even though he wasn't hungover, he was still upset about yesterday.

The fact that he was still acting childish about being assigned to the investigation made her miffed all over again. Barbara didn't understand why he couldn't just accept the job and move on. Instead, he had to distract her from work by pouting like a child and starting arguments. Hank had been her mentor, and there'd been times in her life she regarded him as a father figure, but that didn't make his behavior acceptable. Nowadays, she was rarely excited or passionate about any cases she worked on, and if she made her feelings as palpable as Hank's were now, she'd have been fired a long time ago.

When he returned to his desk, Barbara decided it was best to give him space until he eventually came around. However, that became difficult when almost immediately, Connor spoke up.

"Lieutenant," he began. "I feel we've gotten off on the wrong foot these last few days, and I thought it might be beneficial to wipe the slate clean and start over."

Barbara wished for a brief moment Connor would have run his attempt to make amends by her, because she could tell from his first couple sentences that he was pouring gasoline on an open flame.

Hank crossed his arms and refused to make eye contact with Connor, who spoke again.

"Perhaps we could all try to get to know each other better," Connor said. "I've researched several team-building activities that might be helpful in establishing healthy professional relationships."

He looked between Hank and Barbara, offering a small, hopeful smile. Barbara couldn't help but feel a little bad for him. She knew she wasn't the warmest person, but it was hard for her to watch Hank be this pointlessly cruel.

"We're not doing fucking icebreakers," Hank groveled into his coffee mug.

Connor didn't answer, and Barbara bit her lip, focusing intently on her keyboard, trying to push away the slight bit of contrition she felt. It's not like Hank was really hurting Connor's feelings. He didn't have feelings to hurt. There was a long bout of silence and she focused back on her work, just as a notification popped up, a new report that was to be collated in the deviant investigation case files.

Connor had failed several times to engage with Hank the day before. He'd even gone as far as citing Sumo's hair on the back of Hank's chair as a way to start conversation, which had Barbara self-consciously scanning her desk for any dust and debris that may have collected over the past few weeks.

Of course. It made sense he'd have some feature that allowed him to examine identify microscopic details. Although, Barbara did know that Hank's dog shed quite a bit from personal experience, and if she looked closely enough she could probably have seen Sumo's hair, too.

Barbara wondered then what he could determine just from looking at her work area. She kept it clean, minimalistic. Her personal items were limited, just a single photo of herself and friends at the Grand Canyon she'd hung on the corkboard a few years back. It was a mystery to her why people would want their whole life story hanging over their desk for anyone to discover - photos of kids, family members, friends, newspaper clippings and tired motivational quotes that were ultimately meaningless. If Connor was studying these things, she was glad she'd kept it limited.

"How long have you known Captain Fowler?" Connor followed up, albeit a little tentatively, and Hank looked over his shoulder at the large glass office that overlooked the precinct. Fowler sat inside at his desk.

"Too long," Hank grumbled.

"And you, Detective Martin?" Connor asked.

Barbara was so focused on observing their conversation that she didn't expect Connor to acknowledge her, but his question did make her think before she could answer. "Since the day he hired me, seven years ago."

Seven years. She'd never thought about it, and hearing herself say it aloud made her stomach turn. Barbara had been here closer to ten years than five, it was almost a decade. What a soul-crushing thought. Briefly she pondered how many of those years she'd been mentally checked out.

While she was having her short-lived existential crisis, Connor had turned his attention back to Hank.

"Is it typical for you to arrive at the office around this time?" Connor asked him, and Barbara raised her eyebrows. Hank being late didn't directly affect her all that much, but it certainly wasn't ideal for an efficient investigation. His tardiness had become a sort of running joke around the office over the years, so hearing Connor voice it aloud to his face was rather amusing.

"It's none of your goddamn business," Hank answered, already on the defense. "Now are we going to continue playing twenty questions or are you going to do the job you were made to do?"

That seemed to quiet Connor's attempt at a positive interaction and he focused back on his computer.

Barbara printed the report that recently came in and walked to the opposite side of the office to pick up the file at the copier. She'd usually try to conserve paper, but this gave her an excuse to remove herself from the thick tension building between Hank and Connor. Barbara thought that being forced to watch them argue may have been some sort of sick punishment Fowler was giving her for asking to be transferred from homicides a few years back.

Scanning the brief paper, Barbara frowned as she took in the information. A defective AX400 model had attacked its owner and ran off with his YK500 model. It was thought to be in the Ravendale District. To her, this seemed like a good place to start, since the paper trail they had access to currently wasn't getting them anywhere.

Her focus was interrupted by Hank's enraged voice coming from their trio of desks on the opposite side of the office. In the mere minutes that she'd been gone, the situation had escalated. Hank had Connor pinned against the glass wall alongside their desks, his hands fisting the lapels of the android's CyberLife-issued jacket. Connor didn't look particularly alarmed, but Barbara was at her wits end with Hank's petulant behavior.

Striding towards them, report in hand, she arrived just in time to hear the end of Hank's sentence, spoken in a low growl, his face only inches from Connor's. The android didn't appear to be defending himself, his hands hanging slack at his sides, his expression neutral. Maybe it was built into his protocols that he couldn't react violently, since Hank was his superior officer. "Don't you dare tell me how to-"

"That's it," Barbara circled the desk and grabbed Hank's shoulder, pulling him away from Connor and stepping between them. "Enough!" she turned to face the indignant lieutenant.

"We get it Hank, you have an issue with androids," she took one step closer to him, voice firm but still calm, narrowing her eyes at him as she took in the scowl on his features. "Get over it. I'm not going to deal with this bullshit every damn day."

"I'm your superior officer," Hank snapped back, clearly still agitated with her for not taking his side the day before, and for inserting herself into the situation now. "You'd better watch the way you speak to me, or I could get you fired."

Hank was bluffing, but he was angry. Barbara gave a forced chuckle, because it was the funniest thing she'd heard in awhile. The audacity it took to threaten her over this was laughable. "Why don't you go tell Fowler about it, then, Hank? Captain Fowler, who told me to come tell him if you gave me trouble during the investigation? That Fowler would love to hear all about this," she lifted her hand and waved it around, forcing him to acknowledge the commotion that was his own doing. At this point, a few people in the office were staring since she had chosen to get involved.

That seemed to quell Hank somewhat, but she was sure it wouldn't be the end of their dispute. He lowered his voice, looking over her shoulder at Connor, his body language relaxing as some of the tension left him, glaring at her with disappointment. "I can't believe you're going to defend this thing."

"I'm not defending anyone," she said, holding up the paper in her hand. "But we have work to do. If you checked the case files, there's a report that just came in. Apparently an AX400 assaulted a man last night."

Hank glowered at Barbara, eyes flickering between her and Connor, who remained silent behind her. After wordlessly berating them both with his stare alone, he plucked the paper from her hand and scanned it over.

"It was last seen around the Ravendale District," she said, leveling her voice as she felt the rush of adrenaline slow, sucking in a deep breath. "I say we go check it out."

Hank glanced up at her briefly over the top of the paper, grunting.

"Fine. Let's go."


A/N: Thanks for the kind words on the first chapter, as well as constructive criticism! It honestly has helped to get second opinions, I think other perspectives are necessary, and I am reworking some future chapters/plot points.

As mentioned before, the plot will generally stay similar with some events being added and some cut out for time. In the case of this story, the events of the game will only be a small portion of the whole storyline.

Anyways, I hope you enjoyed getting a closer look at my OC, Barbara. I hope she wasn't too harsh/skeptical right off the bat, but if she was, future chapters will demonstrate her more redeeming qualities.

Feel free to check out my playlist for this story (Go on YouTube and search Mari Allen - Stuck On The Puzzle)! And I have a tumblr (from-the-clouds)! I post about a variety of things, but you can chat to me privately there.