Two Peas in a Pod
May 21ST, 2039
AM 01:35:15
Connor's Objective: Vacate Current Residence
Hank subtly watched Connor's reflection through the windshield, the android seemed enthralled by the stickers on his dashboard. And with good reason, at some point the weathered detective had taken to collecting Android Support stickers, the newest of which depicted a combination human/android heart next to the words "Red or blue the beat is true".
The support stickers were haphazardly pasted over his old Anti-android propaganda, physical proof that the world could change. Not that he need stickers when Connor was the embodiment of that change.
The android had come to Hank like a beacon of light in his darkest hour and restored Hank's faith in humanity, baring with it a new commitment to his job. In fact, with Connor as his partner, he was well on his way to becoming a decorated homicide detective. Hank would never admit it out loud, but Connor was his salvation.
Finally arriving at their destination, Hank parked his car along the curb just outside a two-story apartment complex that was barely fit for habitation. Made of aged red bricks and rusty steel beams, complete with barred windows, the simple rectangular structure had all the charm of a federal prison.
The pair got out of the car and headed toward Connor's apartment, climbing a flight of stairs before finding it at the end of the hall. This was the first time Hank would see the inside of Connor's apartment and he was anxious to see the way his clean-cut partner decorated. Connor opened the door and Hank's face fell flat, "How long have you lived here? Why don't you have any furniture?"
"I didn't see the need for furniture." Connor said, plucking a cardboard box from the counter, "on the plus side, it shouldn't take me long to gather my belongings." Connor made his way to his bedroom, leaving Hank to wander.
Hank made his way to the kitchen and was surprised to see that the fridge covered primarily in photos of Sumo. The officer rolled his eyes, apparently, Connor wasn't kidding or feeding a line when he said he liked dogs. Among the collage of dog photos was a picture Hank had taken of Sumo tackling Connor at the department Barbeque a few weeks back. This drew a tiny laugh from Hank's throat.
Hank plucked the photo free of its magnet in order to get a closer look and accidently dislodged a flyer from its resting place. It landed face up on the ground, its contents telling of the 60th annual Jazz festival, which was normally held in late august, but was now scheduled for the end of May due to a Hart Plaza booking error. Hank retrieved the flyer, written on the margins, in perfect Cyberlife Sans were two prompts, O: ASK HANK and X: GO ALONE.
Under the guise of being helpful, Hank plucked the remaining photos from the fridge, burying the flyer beneath them, and carried them toward Connor's bedroom. As hank rounded the corner he saw Connor in the middle of the room, standing over a cardboard box "Connor?" Hank met his partner in the center of the room and noticed that Connor was cradling his police badge in his hands, his LED blinking from yellow to red and back again. "Connor…Don't worry about IA."
"How can I not?" Connor asked, lifting his head, his hazel eyes slightly moist. "How can I be sure, really sure, that I'm not a threat?" Connor ran his thumb over his name as it was engraved in the cool gold plating. "Maybe the DPD is better off without me."
"Okay, stop that talk right now." Hank ordered, "You're the best damn thing that's ever happened to the department." The best thing that's ever happened to me.
"Lieutenant…"
"No." Hank said. "You aren't a threat. Don't let Chloe's words get to you."
"But, maybe she's right about me." Connor confessed, "I never told anyone about this, but I almost assassinated Markus during his final speech of the revolution." Connor's LED flashed red as he relived the memory, "I lost control of my body and by the time I regained control, I discovered that I had my gun trained on Markus."
"What do you mean, you lost control?" Hank asked.
"Amanda existed in a graphic interface known as the Garden, it was there that I would brief her about the Deviants investigation. She had the power to call on me no matter where I was or what I was doing."
"Is that why you lingered so long in the elevator when we were investigating the Deviant with all the pigeons?"
"Correct." Connor said. "On the night of Markus's speech she called me away and trapped me in the interface leaving my body to carry out her order to execute Markus. I regained control through the use of an emergency exit." Connor's LED flashed yellow, "it took nearly all my energy to escape, a fraction of a second later and I would have murdered Markus."
"But you didn't. All that matters is that you regained control and stopped yourself." Hank dropped the pile of fridge photos into the box at Connor's feet "You did what you were supposed to do, you found a way to save an innocent man's life."
"What happens next time, Hank?" Connor said. "The graphic interface run by Cyberlife is still operational, what if I can't stop myself in time? Maybe my resignation from the police force is what's best for the department and this city." Connor admitted.
"The fact that you are willing to give up your job to save lives is proof enough that you are not a threat." Hank took the golden badge from Connor's hands, proceeding to pin the badge to the front of Connor's jacket. "As far as I'm concerned, you deserve to wear this badge."
A wave of uncontrollable emotion coursed through Connor's body, he puffed out his chest as a warm tingling sensation blossomed out of the pit of his stomach. "Thank you. That means a lot coming from you, Lieutenant" Connor admitted, tilting his head in a loving manner.
"Yeah…" Hank cleared his throat, "no problem." Hank scooped up Connor's box of belongings. There wasn't much inside, only a few trinkets collected over months of department morale bosting activities. One such trinket was a first place trophy from the New Year's Eve talent competition, at which Connor wowed everyone with his mastery of coin flourishes.
Speaking of coin flourishes, Hank heard that familiar twang of a quarter being flipped and whipped his head up to see that Connor was idly straightening out his police badge. What the— If Connor wasn't flipping a coin then someone else was in the apartment.
Hank instinctively stepped in front of Connor, balancing the box with one hand, and reached for the gun tucked in the holster at his belt, ready to draw it should he need to. "Connor?" a small voice rang out across the apartment. Hank relaxed his stance when a boy, about seven years of age, came into view.
"Trevor." Connor greeted, placing his box on the ground once more. "What are you doing out of bed this late, your mother is going to be upset that you left the house."
"I know, but I had to show you. I finally did it, watch." Trevor dug into his pockets –his pants were about two sizes too small for him— and retrieved a nickel from his pocket. Hank smiled when Trevor began rolling the coin down his knuckles and back up again.
"Very good" Connor said, taking his final steps before kneeling down in front of the child. He placed a hand on the boy's shoulder and reached into his left front pocket, pulling his lucky 1994 quarter free. He handed it to the boy, "Just keep it up and you'll be outperforming me, one day." The boy took the quarter as it was presented to him like it was the most precious treasure on earth.
The sight dredged up a memory of Cole, a year before the accident. They were playing a game of cops and robbers when Cole reviled his plans to become a police officer, just like you dad… and Hank's reply, keep it up and you'll out rank me one day. The box Hank was holding let out a papery whine at being gripped too tightly.
"Thank you, Connor." The boy smiled. Then, did something that caught Connor completely off guard. He hugged Connor with all his might and it took Connor a moment to register what was happening before he returned the gesture.
After exchanging a few more pleasantries, Connor sent Trevor on his way and stood back up only to find that Hank had disappeared some time during their conversation. His LED flared to red. "Hank?" Connor exited the apartment and found Hank standing outside, holding the box of his possessions, hiding his eyes beneath the curtain of his hair.
"Let's go." Hank said.
May 21ST, 2039
AM 02:45:35
Connor's Objective: Settle into New Home
Hank fiddled with his house key, inside he heard Sumo get off the couch, his old bones carrying him toward the door. "Yeah, yeah Sumo, I'm home." Hank muttered. It was a rough sound, a stark contrast to the silence of the car trip from Connor's apartment. Hank shoved the door open to Sumo, seated patently in the foyer waging his tail. That is until he caught sight of Connor.
In a flash Connor was on the ground being licked to death by the giant dog. Connor couldn't help but laugh, his arms flailing about as he tried, unsuccessfully, to keep Sumo's tongue off of his face. "You're attacks are becoming more calculated, are you sure you're not an android?" Sumo barked in response before resuming his assault on Connor's face. "A little help, here, Hank." Implored Connor.
"Don't look at me." Hank replied, putting Connor's belongings on the ground before, hanging his coat on the rack. "You're the one with the negotiation skills." He added before heading to the kitchen to grab a beer.
Connor glanced around for a source of aid and discovered two options, O: TENNIS BALL or X: ROPE. Connor pre-constructed the outcome of using the tennis ball and found that it would ricochet around the room several times before ultimately hitting Hank in the head. Not only would that, Sumo would give chase, leaving a trail of destruction, that included one of Hank's favorite Jazz records, in his wake. A record that had taken the detective decades of careful preservation to keep in working order.
Unwilling to face Hank's wrath, Connor grabbed a double knotted rope toy, "Here Sumo, want the toy?" Sumo barked and stomped on Connor's chest in excitement. "Okay, boy, fetch." Connor tossed the toy to the right and Sumo ran and grabbed it up before finishing the trip to his bed where he proceeded to gnaw on the toy.
Connor peeled himself up off the ground, straightened out his jacket and cinched his tie up at the top before glancing over at Hank. Connor's fingers slid over to his police badge, remembering the warmth brought on by Hank's praise. He owed his very humanity to the old detective. Even now, Hank was his salvation.
Connor joined Hank in the kitchen and sat down opposite him at the dining table. Hank was nursing a beer in one hand while resting his forehead on the upturned palm of his other hand. It was obvious that meeting Trevor had tugged at one of the many tender threads that kept Hank together.
After a moment Hank muttered, "Can I ask you something?" keeping his head down while he spoke.
"Anything." Offered Connor.
"After gaining your freedom, you could have done whatever you wanted, why did you decide to stay on the police force?"
"I assume you want an answer that goes beyond the fact that I was designed for this type of work." Hank gave Connor a sideways look, of course that's what he wanted. "Well, I don't think my reason is any different from yours. I have the power to help people and I want to use it to make the world a better place." Connor's LED flashed yellow, "not only that but I enjoy our partnership."
Hank choked on his tongue, he was not expecting that. Sometimes Connor's honesty was overwhelming, endearing, but overwhelming. "Jesus, Connor, don't say things like that so casually." Hank said.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to embarrass you."
"I'm not embarrassed." Defended Hank, absentmindedly peeling the label from his beer, leaving the scraps in a curled pile on the table. Connor reached over and plucked the empty bottle from Hank's lazy fingers and set it aside.
"It's been a long day, you should get some sleep." Suggested Connor, surprised when Hank nodded, giving in without a fight.
Hank made his exit, stopping just across the threshold, and without turning back said, "Thanks, Connor." Before retiring to his bedroom, passing Sumo on the way.
The oversized dog meandered over to Connor and placed his large head on Connor's lap. Pet Sumo. Connor scratched behind Sumo's ears and ran a gentle hand over the dog's soft fur. "Don't worry, Sumo. I told you when we met that I was going to save your owner and I never fail a mission."
AN: Thank you for all the review, the support means a lot to me, and thanks for checking my spelling and grammar, even when I edit a story eight times I still find stuff too. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, we'll get back to the murders in the next chapter, promise.
And I'm sorry the update took so long, I was working on my Connor Cosplay for the upcoming Con in Tampa.
See you all in the next one.