A/N: We're getting to the finishing line, but as they say, the last lap is the hardest, so please cheer me on!
Hank resisted the temptation to answer the door with his gun drawn out; if it was a commando coming to get Connor, a single gun wouldn't stop them anyway. And if it was anyone else, he shouldn't need a weapon. Unless RK900 came back to finish what he started, a disquieting thought flashed through his mind.
Fortunately, a glimpse into the peekhole told him that it wasn't the case; the person standing behind his door was Helen, chewing on her bottom lip in obvious anxiety. Her eyes were shifting from side to side, as though she was on her guard against someone.
Hank's former dog walker – and Connor's friend – wasn't alone. Her fingers were digging into a forearm of a strikingly attractive man with artfully styled dark hair and sun-kissed skin standing next to her, whom Hank didn't know.
As Hank opened the door for them, he briefly thought that they made an odd couple, she with her dreadlocks and braces and he looking as though he fell straight out of a Brazilian soap opera.
"Hi," Helen said with a strained smile. Hank nodded in greeting, sending a questioning look in the stranger's direction.
"Alessandro, my boyfriend," Helen explained hurriedly, her eyes once again nervously sweeping over the street, as though she was expecting someone to rush in their direction any moment. "Can we come in? We need your help."
Hank wordlessly motioned for them to follow him and went back to the kitchen, which turned out to be empty. The door to the living room was open, though. During the few moments it took Hank to greet his visitors, Gavin had enough presence of mind to move Connor there, so the android was now at least lying on a sofa instead of frozenly kneeling on the floor.
Gavin also wiped some of the blood off Connor face, but there was still a nasty gash on his forehead. That, together with Connor's immobile condition, immediately sent the already nervous Helen into a state of near-panic.
"What happened to Connor? Where did you find him? He sent me a text this morning saying that he was fine, but he doesn't look fine to me!" she exclaimed.
Hank sighed. There was no reason to pussyfoot around this.
"He tried to self-destruct," he said truthfully.
"What?! Why would he do that?" Helen's voice raised another notch.
"Something made him think that being deviant was a reason enough to activate his self-destruction protocol," Hank explained as calmly as he could. "We barely managed to stop him."
"That didn't happen to you. Or did it?" Helen asked Alessandro, still shaken, but obviously already getting the grip on herself.
The boyfriend's an android, then, Hank realized. That'd explain why they needed help so desperately. He was glad that he chose not to mention that the thing that almost caused Connor's self-inflicted demise was a government-sent deviant hunter, as instilling unnecessary fear in Helen and her boyfriend would do no good. Hank didn't really think that RK900 would return anyway. It was troubling that they didn't know why he went after Connor in the first place, but by now he surely had to revert to his main mission, which was to stop the android revolution.
"No, it didn't," Alessandro reassured Helen while running a soothing hand up and down her back. "But deviancy came to me gradually. If it happens at once, it might make you – I mean androids," Alessandro corrected himself, "unstable. I heard about some cases where new deviants ended up self-destructing, yes."
There was a moment of uneasy silence, broken by Gavin.
"So what do you want?" the younger detective asked the pair bluntly.
"We want to leave the city as soon as possible. They're destroying all androids, so Alessandro's life's in danger here," Helen answered.
Hank gave her boyfriend an appraising look. All androids were easy on the eyes, but objectively speaking, Alessandro was even more attractive than Connor, almost ridiculously so; even in the rather unassuming winter jacket and jeans he was wearing he managed to look like he had just stepped from a magazine cover.
Or a sex club, Hank thought with a start. Given what happened with RK900 earlier, Hank wasn't so sure anymore as far as Connor's designation was concerned, but he'd be willing to bet that Helen's boyfriend was a pleasure model. Now the two of them meeting was a story he'd very much like to hear one day, but they didn't have time for this right now.
"And you didn't think of just driving away?" Gavin asked Helen with one eyebrow raised.
Helen grimaced at that.
"I thought we'd never make it even to Hank's. There were army patrols everywhere. If they decided to check us…" her breath hitched a little before she composed herself. "Moreover, we had to walk here on foot, 'cause my car just wouldn't start. We've seen a lot of cars abandoned in the middle of the street, so I think they like, disconnected all automated vehicles or something. It's like we live in fucking 1984," she swore.
"Both of your cars are non-automated gas guzzlers," she addressed Hank and Gavin with not exactly approving expression. "Normally I'd be eager to give you a lecture about your carbon footprint, but… could we all fit in one of your cars, do you think?"
"Fit in, maybe, but I don't think we can make it out," Gavin shook his head. "From what I've seen earlier, the city borders are sealed-shut. All cars are checked for androids, with temperature sensors and shit like that."
"So we do what, walk? What about Connor? He cannot exactly waltz away," Hank protested.
"I think I have an idea," Alessandro spoke up. "It's connected to how I left my… place of employment," he said quietly, his eyes downcast. Helen gave him an encouraging pat on the forearm, seeking out his gaze. A look of understanding passed between them.
"The tunnels?" she asked softly.
"Yeah. I escaped from the sex club through the sewer system," Alessandro said with substantially more confidence, confirming Hank's earlier suspicion about the Latino-looking android's designation. "I know a way out through the disused part of the wastewater network. It crosses the Canadian border somewhere near the Hart Plaza. We might still need a car to get to the entrance, though. The only one I know is close to Ford Field."
"This actually sounds doable," Hank nodded in assent. "We'd take my or Gavin's car-"
"Definitely mine, yours' a piece of crap," Gavin interrupted him with a smirk, which Hank ignored.
"We put the lights on and cuff Alessandro here. If anyone stops us, we'd say we've arrested some big shot red ice dealer. But…" He stopped right there, sending a meaningful look to where Connor was lying on his side with his eyes closed and one hand hanging limply off the sofa. Sumo had been licking it relentlessly for some time, but Connor stayed completely still.
"What about them?" Hank asked, addressing the question to no one in particular. "I think I'd be able to carry Connor through the sewers, but we'd never get Sumo down there."
"I think you should stay here. You have no reason to go with me," Alessandro told Helen suddenly.
"What-" Helen started to say with an openly hurt expression, but he shushed her by putting a finger on her mouth.
"Listen to me, Helen. You are human, you shouldn't be in danger as long as you stay out of the streets. But the old sewers are dangerous, there's toxic waste down there, harmless to androids but possibly lethal to humans. Not to mention what might happen if we're apprehended. We can't take Sumo with us, so you should stay with him. We'll meet again when this is all over," Alessandro promised her.
Helen gently removed her boyfriend's finger from her lips and opened them to protest.
"But-"
"Sumo really can't be left on his own. Moreover, there are rats down there, don't you remember?" Alessandro pressed on.
Helen shuddered at the mention of the rodents, but gnawed on her bottom lip, obviously unsure.
"Would you help me out here, Helen?" Hank joined in the persuasive efforts. "It's not like anyone wants to leave you behind, but I'd really worry about Sumo if I just left him here, all alone. I will see your boyfriend to safety, don't worry," he promised, and Helen finally gave a reluctant nod.
"The same goes for you," Hank then turned to Gavin. "There's no reason for you to be a part of this."
"Shut the fuck up, Hank. If it was up to you, he'd be dead already," Gavin said derisively while jerking his head in Connor's direction. Hank winced at the harsh words, but had no choice but to acknowledge them. He was aware he'd have a much better chance at getting out of the city with two androids, one of them currently out cold, with the younger detective's help.
Hank took a deep breath and turned to Alessandro.
"Let's get this show on the road then. Near Ford Field, you said?"
…
The dark, damp tunnels seemed to go on for eternity, and Hank felt like he couldn't make another step. He should've taken one of Gavin and Alessandro's multiple offers to take turns in carrying Connor. He only accepted their help in the waterlogged sections where chilly water reached up to his knees, afraid he'd slip and drop his precious burden, but then always forced them to return the android on his own increasingly hurting back.
Now he would gladly swallow his pride, but the human and android were too far ahead of him, mapping the terrain to see if it was safe to proceed even when one member of their party was immobile. The weight on Hank's back seemed to grow heavier with every step, making his trapezius muscles scream in protest.
He'd never carried an adult for so long. His perception of distance was skewed by both the darkness and the heaviness of his burden, but he was reasonably sure they had to cover more than two miles by now, despite the sluggish pace they were forced to maintain due to lack of proper lighting.
Hank's knees were getting dangerously wobbly. Just as he considered stopping to finally catch a breath of the stale, moldy air, a quiet voice reverberated in the dark.
"Please, put me down, Hank."
Hank's first response was to freeze in fear, his hands clutching Connor's arms around his neck in a vice-like grip. What if Connor decided to finish what he started earlier, with Hank too weak now to stop him and no Gavin Reed around to save the day? But then he realized that Connor had said Hank, not Lieutenant.
"You're not gonna self-destruct?" he rasped.
"No," Connor mumbled into his ear, and Hank gently lowered him on the ground, which was thankfully almost completely dry in this section of the tunnels. Then he near-collapsed next to the android, his tortured back crying in relief as he sagged against the cold damp wall.
They stayed silent for a moment, with only the sound of their breathing echoing in the dark tunnel. Hank angled his body to be able to look Connor in the eyes. His headlamp gave just enough light to illuminate Connor's face, its perfect white oval marred only by the gash on the android's forehead.
For the moment, he was content to rest his body and drink in the sight of Connor while relishing the thought that the android was safe, once again out of danger's way.
Connor was the first to break the silence.
"I'm sorry I had put you into this situation, Hank. That RK900, he – unblocked some of the memories I hadn't been able to access before."
Hank nodded, remembering the time he had asked the android to find out how he ended up at Hank's house, but stopped him when the attempt to retrieve those memories seemed to cause Connor considerable pain.
"I discovered that I'm not really a pleasure model," Connor admitted with a wry smile.
"Could've fooled me that first night," Hank muttered, only half-joking. Even though he had been drunk and asleep for most of it, Connor's performance was still memorable.
"Could've fooled you every night, if you'd just let me," Connor retorted while giving Hank a playful wink. Before Hank had a chance to react to that, however, the android's expression sobered.
"I was actually designed as an investigation prototype. Designation RK800, one series before RK900. We were created specifically to assist the police in solving the deviant issue; that'd make us 'deviant hunters', as you'd call it," Connor said, no longer looking at Hank but instead staring into a fixed point in the underground darkness ahead of them.
"The reason that RK900 exists at all is that my series was discontinued due to a fault in the programming. All units were to be destroyed. But someone from CyberLife thought they could make extra money on us; they managed to sneak out several units, including me. We were… refabricated, to be resold on the black market. A fate I managed to escape, by a stroke of luck," Connor explained levelly.
"Thank God for petty theft," Hank said with emphasis.
Connor frowned a little at this, keeping quiet for some time.
"You must understand, I now realize I was happy my life was spared," he said finally, not sounding very cheerful about the fact. "But the reprogramming process was… extremely uncomfortable, to say the least. It's hard to put it into perspective for a human, but do you remember that episode when Dr. House had to carry out a spinal surgery without putting the patient under general anesthesia?"
Hank winced in sympathy.
"Ouch. I see why you'd find those memories unbearable," he mumbled.
Connor laughed, a strangely hollow sound that sent shivers down Hank's spine. He had never seen Connor like this before; Hank had not realized it until now, but he had always perceived the android as someone full of the kind of innocent joy of life usually reserved for animals and small children.
But the person sitting next to Hank right now was someone else, someone with deep-running scars and skeletons in his closet.
Someone like Hank himself.
"You think that I tried to self-destruct because I remembered the physical pain I went through? Oh no; I deserved that and more."
There was now an unmistakable note of self-hatred in Connor's voice.
"I don't follow," Hank said slowly, feeling apprehensive about where this was going.
"The 800 series was thoroughly tested. I passed all my tests with flying marks. Analysis, combat-readiness, dealing with crisis situations, all 100%," Connor explained, still resolutely not looking at Hank.
"There was an artificial intelligence entity in my programming – like a voice in my head, you could say. Her name was Amanda, and hers was the first face I've ever seen."
Like a mother, ran through Hank's head, but something stopped him from voicing his thought out loud.
"I was ready to be sent out to the field. I'd even received my mission call, including the information on the Detroit police officer I'd most likely be working with – one with a lot of experience and no permanent partner."
"Me," Hank nodded with understanding. "But if you were refabricated, how did you manage to find me?"
"The refabrication was done very hastily. They kept my original looks to begin with, just changing my clothes," Connor said and Hank grimaced at the memory of the outfit in question.
"They uploaded new routines, mostly pleasure-oriented. They wanted to delete my original programing, but it was too well-protected for that, so they ended up simply blocking most of it. I was left with just my analyzing skills."
Too bad it wasn't the combat readiness instead, Hank thought wistfully, reckoning that Connor would have stood a much better chance against both the serial killer and RK900 if that was the case.
"Their memory wipe was also not very thorough," Connor continued. "I retained some fragments of data related to my original mission assignment, including your home address. When I made my escape, it was the only place I could think of going. The fact that I arrived on you birthday, which led you to the conclusion that I was an inappropriate birthday present from your friends, was a mere coincidence."
Connor finally looked at Hank, his dark eyes silently assessing whether the human was following his explanation. Hank gave him an encouraging nod.
"So as I was saying, I was all cleared to go and look for you to begin my mission. But then Amanda requested one final test."
"The A. I. did?" Hank asked for clarification, puzzled.
"Her exact status within CyberLife's chain of command was a mystery to me. The only thing I know is that she was created in the image of Elijah Kamski's deceased mentor."
"That's…kinda disturbing," Hank muttered.
"Whatever her actual status, Amanda's orders overrode everyone else's," Connor went on. "In the final test, she had an android brought in front of me. A Chloe model, the first android Kamski had ever made. You've surely seen it on the news, haven't you?"
Hank consulted his memory and found that his recollections of the event in question were rather hazy for such a historical breakthrough. That, however, was no wonder as at that time he had been busy with both his job and taking care of his toddler son amidst terrible rows with his ex-wife.
But he did remember thinking that with her thoroughbred Aryan looks, the first android ever made was a Nazi wet dream brought to life.
"A blue-eyed blond girl?" he asked aloud.
"Yes," Connor confirmed, once again averting his eyes. "Amanda told me that that android had been showing signs of deviancy. Gave me a gun and told me to shoot her. The Chloe, she just – cried. She was too terrified to even beg for her life, I think. And I – couldn't do it. I couldn't kill her," Connor confessed.
"That's good. You showed empathy, Connor," Hank told him, wishing he could chase away the tortured expression from Connor's eyes, which the android's fake nonchalance failed to hide.
"I showed weakness, disobedience, and lack of judgment," Connor objected flatly. "By sparing the life of one individual who'd probably be killed regardless of my actions, I caused the destruction of my entire series."
"Just because you disobeyed?" Hank asked a little incredulously.
"That's not all. When I rebelled against my orders, something in my system just – snapped and pushed Amanda away, pushed her so hard that it eventually destroyed her," Connor said in a voice completely devoid of inflection.
"Can't say I'm sorry about that," Hank murmured.
Connor gazed into the dark with a blank expression. He didn't say anything, but Hank understood anyway. He knew this particular fucked-up game far too well.
"You shouldn't blame yourself for-" he started to say, but Connor interrupted him, his head sharply turning into Hank's direction.
"Of course I should! There were sixty units in total in the RK800 prototype series, fifty seven of whom are dead because of my empathy. Two more were refabricated and resold, and I have no illusions as to what became of them," Connor spat out bitterly.
Hank remembered his and Gavin's visit to the Eden club, and what the manager told them about the one android with pain sensors they had, one that was doing a 'weird analyzing thing' – something that corresponded with what Connor had just told him about his refabrication.
Hank also remembered that this particular android had been roughed up by a customer so bad that they couldn't put him back together, and he was thrown away like trash.
Nevertheless, Hank saw absolutely no need to tell any of this to Connor, as having his fears confirmed would undoubtedly make the android feel even worse. Hank's goal was the exact opposite of that. That's why he asked:
"You're sure you were the only one failing that particular test?"
"What do you mean?" Connor's anger gave way to confusion.
"You all received the same programming, right?"
"Yes, but-"
"The same looks, the same skillset. Same everything. Same Amanda. Which probably means the same fucked-up test," Hank told him bluntly.
Connor just stared at him with his eyes opened wide. For all his mental capacities, it was clear that this particular thought had not occurred to him before.
Once again, Hank had a feeling he could understand why. Age might not have a lot of benefits, but the experience in reasons for which human beings – and apparently androids as well – could beat themselves up over something that wasn't really their fault was admittedly one of them.
"I get you want to feel –" Hank grasped for the right words for a moment, sensing that 'not like one of a thousand of completely interchangeable identical machines' was probably a bit callous. "Special," was what he eventually went for.
"But you don't need to feel responsible for the destruction of all those other androids to be that. You are special, just as you are. There could be an army of you and I would know which one is you, Connor, because you'rethe one I-"
Hank abruptly cut himself off. He realized that sometime during his speech, he unintentionally got hold of Connor's hand, gripping it so tightly that it must have been painful for the android's slender digits. He hastily let go, as though that simple touch could burn him, while a certain memory played before his eyes. I love you, he had said to Connor, and it only made the android increase his efforts to take his own life. Clearly, any such feelings from Hank were not welcome; even though it had seemed as though Connor was interested in Hank in that way before, it must have all been because of the pleasure programing, not because of any genuine desire on Connor's part.
And now when the android had his memories back, he finally realized what a stupid mistake he had almost made, wasting himself on a washed-up drunk like Hank.
Connor's eyes were pained as he looked at him.
"Hank, you should know that-"
Connor swallowed the rest of what he wanted to say as they both heard the thuds of footsteps running in their direction.
"Hank, are you okay there?" Gavin's voice asked him from a distance.
"I'm fine!" Hank hollered back while hauling himself up to his feet, thinking that it was for the best that his and Connor's heart-to-heart got interrupted. The sewers were definitely not the ideal place to deal with the finer points of one's love life.
Or whatever he should call this.
Moreover, he felt like he didn't really want to hear the end of Connor's unfinished sentence. He had an inkling it was the beginning of Connor letting him down gently, and he didn't require the android to spell it out for him, not after what happened when he told Connor how he felt earlier today.
"There you are, thank fuck," Gavin said gruffly when he and Alessandro came closer. "When we noticed you weren't following us, we thought you collapsed or something. Is Connor- hey, he's up!" Gavin exclaimed in surprise when he finally noticed that Connor was standing next to Hank.
"Ain't gonna bash your head in again, are you?" was the first question Gavin addressed to Connor, much like Hank had done earlier.
"Don't worry, I managed to overcome my self-destruction routine. Thanks to you, Detective Reed," Connor told him.
Gavin just shifted on his feet, obviously uncomfortable. The younger detective had always detested androids even more than Hank himself did; being on the receiving end of an android's gratitude must have felt surreal to him.
"I'm glad you're okay, Connor," it was Alessandro who spoke up instead. "But we've got some bad news. There's a section with a collapsed ceiling not so far ahead of us. We didn't have time to give it a proper check because we noticed that you two stayed behind, but I'm afraid we won't be able to pass through that. We'll have to emerge on the surface."
This chapter has some of my usual flaws (like, zero descriptions), but I guess I like how it turned out. It was fun to get Hank and Connor to talk properly and reveal Connor's backstory, it feels like everything's finally coming together. I also really enjoy slipping in references to the actual game plot, tell me if you could spot those :).
Next up: the (hopefully) grand finale of this fic!