The early day greeted them with chilly air and an empty city. An evacuation had been ordered and had left the place to look like a ghost town. The usual bustling streets and stores were completely barren, and houses were empty without their owners. Only few people had actually stayed in Detroit: androids and dumb people. Fortunately, Margaret and Hank had fit into one of those categories.

They stood in front of the infamous Chicken Feed waiting for Connor to show up. It was unknown if Connor has even gotten the message or if he was even still alive. Last night had ended in victory for the androids, but that didn't mean they all survived unscathed. Hank bugged her all the night to get to the bed instead of being plastered to the TV screen. For hours they argued back and forth until finally she gave up and ended up passing out on Hank's couch.

So now here they were, expecting Connor to show any moment. Hank would never admit it, but he was worried as well. For minutes they waited and waited in the chilly day for him to arrive, but nothing. Margaret fiddled with the buttons of her coat, ignoring the impending dread she felt as the minutes ticked by. She was so immersed in her own thoughts she didn't hear footsteps approaching them.

Finally, the person they had been waiting for arrived a little too late, but not any bit unwanted. Hank and Connor shared a moment, no words needed between them, just a knowing smile, and a hug to seal the deal. It wasn't until she heard Hank patting Connor's back did she finally look up.

It was him. In perfect condition and alive. This was the second time she thought she would never see him again, and this was the second time he proved her wrong.

Hank finally let go of Connor and Connor immediately turned to her and without a single bit of hesitation, he grabbed her and hugged her tightly. She closed her eyes tightly and wrapped her arms around his neck, hoping that this wasn't a dream and that he really was here. His radiating warmth from his chest reminded her that it was.

He reluctantly let go and gave her his most sincere smile, and she couldn't help but laugh in happiness as well. The worst had passed over and the three of them had survived it, as well as changed them for the better.

In the car, Hank suggested they should celebrate for such a special day, in which made Margaret rolled her eyes at him, reminding him that Jimmy's bar was closed.

"I've always got some drinks at home," Hank stated proudly.

"Let's not get completely drunk when most of the hospitals are closed," she advised.

And with a flick of his hand, Hank dismissed her and kept driving on ahead. They arrived back at Hank's home in no time at all, and Hank immediately made his way towards his cabinets where he apparently had the "good shit" as he put it. Sumo greeted Connor with eagerness and licked the poor android from head to toe. She giggled at the scene as Hank poured her a drink and clicked the tv on.

Apparently, Hank's term of "fun" was shouting at the tv while drunk, as his favorite basketball team did poorly.

"That's strange? This isn't Denton Carter's usual performance," Connor butts in.

"Piece of shit doesn't do his job when he wants to," Hank mutters and continues to sip on his drink.

Margaret only took small sips of her drink, she normally didn't drink much, but this was a special occasion.

"What? Can't hold your drink?" Hank raises an eyebrow at her.

"I'm not the drinking type. I just don't like it," she excuses herself.

"Considering your weight to alcohol ratio. I find that you might find yourself more under the influence in fewer drinks than most," Connor reveals rather loudly.

Hank laughs loudly and longer than he needed to. Connor looks in confusion at Margaret's red cheeks and Hank's own amusement about the whole thing. Had he done something wrong?

Hank finally settles down and wipes his eyes from the tears of laughter that had rolled down. Meanwhile, Margaret remained with her arms crossed and her face full of embarrassment.

"Look, Connor, you don't have to analyze everything, alright? Even though that shit was funny, not everything needs to be said out loud," he wags his finger at Connor.

Connor nods, "Got it."

"Sorry, Margaret."

"It's alright, Connor."

The three continued lounging about on the couch the rest of the day as they watched games, the news, and even a couple of movies. Hank had some leftovers from previous food deliveries and normally she would have been grossed out by them, but she had to admit the Chinese food was the absolute best.

Somehow, Hank had made it till the night without passing out once. He changed into more comfortable clothes when he suggested that she and Connor should do the same.

"Here," he threw some clothes at the both of them, "Get that CyberLife shit off of you. I don't want to see that crap again."

Margaret head into the bathroom and changed into the strange attire that Hank had given her. It was an old metal band tank top, and some shorts that went a little bit past her knees. She looked at herself in the mirror and snorted at her own appearance. The rocker type of look was completely different from her own, but it didn't look entirely bad.

She walked out in bare feet where Hank looked at her in approval.

"Hey, doesn't fit too bad, right?"

"It's a big baggy, but it does it's job," she smiles.

Another click from the hallway made them turn around to see a strange sight. Hank had given Connor a similar set of clothes. An equally as old rocker tee, and some sweat pants. If she thought seeing Connor in her boyfriend's clothes was weird, this was even stranger.

Connor walked forward awkwardly, like a kid trying out an ugly Christmas sweater that their parents had given them. He was unsure and embarrassed? Either way, she couldn't help but giggle as his expression and his clothing.

"Oh come on, Connor it doesn't look that bad on you," Hank tried to cheer him up.

"Maybe my jacket was a better substitute than these clothes," he stretches the tee away from him.

"You'll get used to it, you don't have to dress like a goddamn machine anymore," Hank reminds him.

"I don't. But I don't know if this is a direct improvement," Connor says truthfully.

Margaret continued to giggle as the two bickered back and forth like father and son discussing with one another. Ever since Connor became a deviant, he had become cheeky with his responses. He always had hints of that poking through, but now he really let go and said what he wanted, even if it was a tad bit embarrassing at times.

The three of them continued watching movies that Hank suggested were "good." Most of them were cheesy action movies, and the typical buddy cop movies as well. She would groan at the one-liners and the predictable plots of the movies, but Connor seemed to be completely immersed in them, especially the buddy cop movies. Of course the android that had never seen a movie would find these movies to be good. It was like every movie they saw became Connor's new favorite.

Finally, after the third movie of the night, Hank passed out on the couch with his loud snoring and drink still in hand. Connor didn't look the least bit bored and was actually leaning in closer to the tv and focused on every bit of evidence the cops were finding out.

"There's no way the man could have murdered that woman. All evidence points otherwise. Clearly it was an inside job," Connor points out.

"Most people wouldn't connect those dots, Connor," she responds.

"But it's right there. How could they not know? Are they certified for their job?" he asks innocently.

"Who knows? Maybe they're just bad cops," she plays along.

"Hank and I wouldn't make a mistake like that," he says seriously.

She smiles at him and takes a final sip of her drink, "You're right. You guys wouldn't," she agrees.

He looks at her as she takes her final sips and places the cup on the messy table of food and drinks.

"I suggest you stop drinking. Anymore and you might get sick," he takes notice of her slurred speech and delayed movements.

She nods slowly and leans back against the couch and closes her eyes, the drinks finally hitting her all at once. She peeks at him with one eye and asks, "How are you feeling, Connor?"

"What do you-"

"You haven't said anything since you helped, Markus," she beats him to it.

He clasps his hands and looks down at his feet. She always seemed to know when something was wrong with him.

"Confused and...I don't know what to do next," he says with some deliberation.

"What do you mean?"

"I was programmed with one thing in mind. But I had a goal and a purpose. Now...I'm unsure of what to do. I don't have a purpose anymore," he tightened his grip on his clasped hands and continued to stare down.

"So...you don't know what to do with your life anymore? Is that it?"

He looks up at her in surprise and blinks, "Yes. I think that's it."

She sighs and looks up at the ceiling in thought. "You're having an existential crisis, Connor. It's not something uncommon for humans to feel too, I think most people question their lives at some point."

"And...what do they do?"

She shrugs," Many turn to religion. Some focus on their job or education. Some live for their families and children. And some just live to live," she admits.

"But those are humans who have experienced the world. I haven't."

She glances at him and smiles at him," Well, that's what we're here for, Connor. You don't have to do just investigative work. You can..." She strums her finger against her mouth, "You can learn how to cook...or paint. Maybe go out running or listen to music or," she points her chin at the tv, "Watch movies and shows."

"But I'm not programmed-"

"Connor," she places her hand on his knee, "Humans aren't programmed with any skills or interests when they're born. It's the beauty of learning and experiencing life. There's so much to do, it's limitless, that's what makes life so precious. I know it's a hard concept for you. But don't think about it too much, and just try to enjoy your new life," she squeezes his knee once more.

It takes some time for him to actually grasp her words and the complexity of them. Life seemed so difficult and confusing, even his protocols and programming didn't prepare him for this. But he eventually looks up at Margaret's face and nods.

"I'll take your advice, Margaret. Thank you," he almost puts his hands on top of hers, but quickly retreats back.

Margaret doesn't take notice of this and let's go of him. She watches the screen with tired eyes and yawns.

"Are you gonna keep watching, Connor?" stretches and makes herself comfortable.

"Yes, I believe they're getting close to cracking the case," he leans forward once more.

She grins and closes her eyes and lays back on the couch.

Connor is left alone as Hank and Margaret slept away and Sumo snored happily at his feet. Towards the end of the movie he feels something warm lean against his shoulder. He sees that Margaret had slid her way over to him, and was now resting peacefully on his shoulder. She looked exactly like when she fell asleep on their way back from Kamski's. She was pretty and that was undeniable to him. He brushed away a stray hair from her mouth and left her where she was. A few minutes later, he felt something else lean against him, and this time it was Hank. The man had slobber coming from his mouth, wetting Connor's tee, but it didn't bother him in the slightest.

The movie ended and the room turned dark as the credits rolled. He was stuck in the middle of the two most important people in his life, and they were snuggling and slobbering on top of him. For the first time, Connor truly felt alive. An amazing, heavy feeling grew in his chest, one that was indescribable and a little frightening to be honest. But as Margaret said, just let it happen. So Connor did. And he closed his eyes and went into a dormant state where he dreamt for the first time about all the things he wanted to do in his new life.