Hank stormed into the Android Emergency Care Facility like a man on a mission as he confronted his Captain who was standing idle in the waiting room of the same facility. The seasoned Captain had been preparing for Hank's inevitably arrival and knew that the confrontation was going to be less than civil. Grabbing onto Fowler's coat lapels Hank practically picked up his superior officer and pinned him against the wall as he glared with a venomous stare into Fowler's eyes.
"What the fuck did you do?!"
"Hank, take it easy!" Fowler Grabbed onto Hank's hands to try and push the enraged Lieutenant away from him. "You need to-"
"Fuck you!" Hank dropped Fowler and took a step back just as two android security personnel arrived in the waiting room to stop the altercation. "He's been GONE for two days; no notice, no updates, and when you finally DO tell me something about what the hell's going on its after Connor gets fuckin' shot!"
"Hank!" Fowler shouted to try and gain control over the situation before it escalated any further. "He's still alive!"
A heated anger rose up from within Hank as he got right back in Fowler's face. "Oh, he's still alive! So as long as he doesn't die you can put him in front of damn firing squad!"
"Listen to me," Fowler put up his hand to halt the approaching security guards who were ready to tackle Hank to the ground. "I'll tell you everything that happened but you need to take a breath."
If Fowler wasn't his oldest friend Hank would've punched him in the face as hard as he could that very instant. Forcing himself to restrain as much of his anger as possible Hank took another step back and planted himself firmly in the middle of the waiting room.
"Alright. Spill it, Jeffrey! Where the fuck were you and where was Connor?!"
Two days prior:
Captain Fowler opened the door to his office and addressed the lone android detective sitting at his terminal across from Hank as the duo filed their daily reports to the precinct.
"Connor, in my office."
Unsure of why he had been summoned so suddenly Connor saved the data on his terminal as he rose from his chair and met Fowler inside the office to speak as requested. Curious about the strange meeting Hank turned in his chair slightly to watch the conversation taking place through the glass wall of the office. Hank had never been good at reading lips so he could only guess as to what was being said solely by observing the body language.
It wasn't good.
Connor appeared to be trying to reason to with Fowler, if not arguing, but Fowler wasn't backing down. Reluctantly Connor agreed to whatever it was that Fowler had assigned to him, the L.E.D. flashing yellow to match the emotional distress on his face. Exiting the office Connor walked up to Hank and gave his friend a somber stare as he sat on the edge of Hank's desk with his head slightly bowed down.
"Connor? What's going on?"
"Hank... I've been reassigned."
"What?" Hank sounded as skeptical as Connor was despondent. "Reassigned? To where?"
"Fowler didn't specify. He told me to clock out and report back to him at five a.m. tomorrow morning."
"Wait, he can't just do that! He can't just shuffle you around and like a pawn on a chessboard and not give you any reason why!"
"It's already done. As of tomorrow I will no longer be working with you... Or here at all."
"Shit..." Hank rubbed his hand over his bearded chin as he tried to give Connor a reassuring grin. "Well, don't worry about it. I'll get this straightened out. You'll see."
"Yes... Okay."
"Look, clock out and go home like you were told. I'll talk to you later in person."
Connor nodded slowly as he listened to Hank's instructions. "Yes, Hank. I'll go home."
With the demeanor of a scolded puppy Connor slid off of the desk as he clocked out for the day and logged off of his terminal. As he walked away from the desk he turned to give Hank one last glance over his shoulder as if expecting something to have changed in the few steps he took. It looked like absolute fear had been stricken in his soulful brown eyes as he reluctantly left the precinct as he had been ordered.
Alone.
Hank drove home immediately after he clocked out six hours later to meet with Connor. Fowler had refused to speak to Hank or tell him anything about what was happening with Connor's reassignment, but that didn't stop Hank from trying to reach out to his contacts to potentially give him information on what the hell was happening at the precinct.
Opening the front door of the house Hank had expected to see Connor sitting on the couch waiting for him, but instead he found that the house was empty, except for Sumo laying on the kitchen floor looking sadly at the backdoor to the house.
"Connor?" Hank shouted as if he expected the android to come wandering out of a room down the hall or through the backdoor. "Connor? You here?"
No answer.
"What the hell is going on?" Hank grumbled as he walked into the kitchen to pet Sumo's head. It was then he saw an envelope containing a letter sitting on the middle of the kitchen table. The letter was addressed to Hank and printed in Connor's infuriatingly perfect handwriting. "Oh, shit."
Opening the envelope hastily Hank pulled out the letter and read the message that had been left behind.
"No... Fuck. Connor," Hank sat down at the chair beside the table heavily as he processed the information with a heavy heart. "what did they do to you?"
One day prior:
Hank entered the precinct on time for the first time in almost eight years with Connor's help as he set out to confront Fowler about what had happened to the android, but his Captain was curiously absent. Temporarily in charge of the precinct Captain Gage, a familiar face to Hank, informed the irritated detective that Fowler had been placed on a special assignment, and that he too knew nothing of Connor's bizarre reassignment.
Pissed off at the world and unwilling to just let the enigmatic behavior slide Hank stormed out of the precinct and returned home to pull every possible string he could get his hands on to locate Connor and to finally figure out what Fowler was up to!
"This is bullshit! The least he could do is give me the dignity of straight fuckin' answer."
On the other side of the city:
Connor sat beside Captain Fowler in the back of an unmarked black car parked a few blocks away from the shipping yard. Wearing the same disguise he had worn when he infiltrated Jericho; black beanie to cover his hair and his L.E.D., thick dark leather coat to conceal his gray jacket and tan work boots in favor of his black dress shoes, Connor looked like any normal human wandering through the city.
"This is the guy you need to get close to." Fowler handed Connor a mugshot to scan and incorporate into his memory. "Jack 'the Ripper' Culver. He's dangerous and usually well armed with several goons watching his back."
"What is his crime?" Connor asked curiously as he had been kept entirely in the dark over the past twenty-four hours. "Why is it important that I go undercover and tail him?"
"This guy is infamous for dismantling androids to tear apart and sell as illegal spare parts on the black market. Ever since the revolution and android care facilities began opening up over the city he's stepped his game and is now butchering androids for parts while also breaking into facilities to steal the legal parts and Thirium to create a shortage."
Connor swallowed nervously as he listened to Fowler's briefing. A human response to anxiety that Connor had observed and subconsciously developed as he began to feel emotions and understand them.
"None of our boys can get inside his inner-circle because they don't have the intimate knowledge of android anatomy to pass as an underground technician. But you, as an android, can blend in perfectly."
"What if I'm discovered?"
"While you're tailing Culver I'll be watching your back from the docks. You're cybernetically connected to my phone, right?"
"Correct."
"I'll be able to keep in constant contact with you, and in the event something goes wrong I'll give you the heads up so you can get out of there before someone harms you."
"Captain... I strongly feel that someone else would be more qualified as an undercover operative. I'm still comprehending emotions and pain, I don't think I can pass as completely human."
"Connor, I hate sending you in there, I really do. But you're our best bet. If we can't nab Culver within the next forty-eight hours then he'll disappear out of the country for good. Who knows how many other androids are being held captive and could be illegally shipped overseas and forced into servitude?"
Connor leaned forward in his seat and took a deep breath. "Forty-eight hours."
"Yeah, not a very big window of opportunity."
"What do I need to find to convict Culver?"
"If you can uncover any document directly linking his bank account to any off-the-books associate; doctors, politicians, military personnel, we should be able to get a warrant and search his wares."
"And if I find any captive androids?"
Fowler sighed with a heavy breath. "I can't tell you to NOT save them, but I can't ask you to risk yourself to save them, either."
"I understand."
"Go. I'll be down at the West end of the yard."
Connor took a moment to mentally steel himself before he exited the car and discreetly walked to the shipping yard about two hundred yards away. Several of Culver's men were patrolling the shipping yard with guns visible and at the ready, six in total. A dozen lesser men had infiltrated the shipping yard to move the illegally obtained parts as discreetly as possible under the cover of darkness.
A single light shone through the window of an office on the second floor of the storage warehouse, and the silhouette of a man standing in the window to watch the men working below matched the physical appearance of Culver himself.
Connor found his man. Now he just needed to get close to him, get inside his office and check through his personal files.
Keeping his head held high to avoid suspicion Connor entered the shipping yard and proceeded to mirror the movements of the other men to ensure that he seemed as though he was a member of Culver's inner circle. As he carefully took notice of every single shipping crate he passed by and recorded the serial numbers, Connor also scanned the faces of the criminals around him connecting their past criminal histories to their current activity to ensure that every member of Culver's organization was sent to prison.
'You're doing good Connor.' Fowler's voice spoke to Connor cybernetically over the phone connected to his L.E.D. 'I can see you in the distance. Stay outside a little while longer before heading inside the warehouse.'
Unable to verbally respond to the order Connor just looked toward the west and nodded slightly as he resumed his stealthy search of the shipping containers and for any useful documents to put Culver behind bars. Connor chronicled the contents of every container and noted that the materials that Culver had collected could only be used for illegal or malicious intent.
Stolen android parts, biocomponents, Thirium, numerous guns, several kilos of 'red ice' and most disturbingly two crates that held two dozen female androids to be sold off as sex slaves in various parts of the world where androids were banned from entering.
'Yeah, I saw it, too. We'll make sure they all make it out of there in tact.'
Avoiding eye contact with anyone nearby Connor blended in with the surrounding criminals easily, and remained completely calm.
'Connor, Culver's just left his office and is on his way out to inspect the containers. Now's your chance to get inside.'
Moving slowly Connor entered the warehouse and stuck to the shadows against the walls. Scanning the area carefully he noted the location of the other members of Culver's group and kept out of their line of sight as he carried out his mission to locate Culver himself, and to get close enough to find anything incriminating; if not outright damning.
With great stealth Connor managed to ascend the staircase to reach the metal landing on the second floor. Walking slowly and quietly Connor located the door leading into Culver's office. The door was locked but Connor had a few tricks up his sleeve. Crouching down in the shadows next to the door the clever android pulled a small switchblade from his coat pocket and stuck the incredibly sharp point of the blade betwixt the door and the door frame to force the latch from the frame. As the latch slipped free Connor easily pushed the door open and slipped inside undetected.
Staying low to the ground Connor crept through the office, avoiding the light as much as possible to keep himself from casting a shadow that could draw unwanted attention to those patrolling outside.
The office was modestly furnished as Culver needed to keep his surroundings sparse and light in the event that he needed to flee quickly. A large desk with six drawers, all locked, were a tempting search. But Connor's sensors had located a large metal safe hidden in the floor beneath a chair up against the wall. Picking up the chair and setting it aside very lightly Connor located the seem to the hidden hatch and pried it open.
Inside was the safe.
"Captain," Connor whispered as he finally verbally responded to Fowler who was patiently awaiting an update. "I located a safe. I'm going to try to open it."
'Be quick. Culver is on his way back inside.'
"I only need two minutes." Connor confidently stated as he put his hand down on the surface of the safe and retracted the artificial skin from his palm. With his other hand Connor turned the dial for the lock and felt each of the tumblers slowly line up and fall into place. Displaying a the skills of a master locksmith Connor managed to easily unlock the safe and pull it open. "I'm in."
'One minute left.'
Connor pulled out the numerous paper documents and scanned each one quickly creating a permanent record of each paper in his memory and uploading copies directly to the precinct.
'Thirty seconds, to go!'
Unwilling to risk getting caught Connor replaced all of the documents in the exact same order in which he had initially found them, closed the safe door, reset the lock, replaced the hatch and slid the chair back just as it had been before he entered the room.
"Got it."
'Good, now get the hell outta' there!'
Rushing back toward the door Connor pressed his back up against the wall and prepared to make a run for it as soon as the door opened. The sound of approaching footsteps right outside the door caused his Thirium pump to start racing in his chest. The subsequent sound of his own heart pounding in his ears was almost deafening. Putting his hand to his chest over his heart Connor took a deep breath and focused on the handle of the door.
Culver and one of his most trusted associates entered the office completely unaware of Connor's presence. As Culver crossed the room Connor noted the gun in his associates hand and kept his eyes locked on the weapon. Gracefully and silently Connor managed to slip through the door just as it shut before anyone had noticed him inside the office.
Using the shadows to his advantage Connor discreetly descended the staircase back to the ground floor of the warehouse. Heading West toward Fowler's location Connor ducked his head down as he heard over the line of communication that Captain Fowler had given the word for the officers located all around the shipping yard to move in and take down Culver's ring of operation.
'Connor is clear. Move now!'
Wisely choosing to duck down and keep out of sight of the converging police officers moving in on the criminals Connor sought to meet up with Fowler at the West end of the yard. As Connor approached his destination he caught sight of his Captain standing with his back to the shipping yard with his hands on his hips as he fidgeted where he stood.
"Captain." Connor stood before him and pulled his cap from his head. "I've collected enough evidence to convict Culver for a significant period of time."
"Yeah, you did good." Fowler as admitted as he turned around to face Connor. "Real good. Now I can get you back to where you belong at the precinct."
"Is there a reason you didn't want Hank to know of your plans?"
Sighing Fowler admitted that he did in fact have a reason for keeping the secret. A damn good one. "Yeah, Connor. You see-"
From behind Fowler in the distance Connor noticed a man with a gun rushing along the edge of the shipping yard attempting to escape. The same man who had entered the Culver's office as Connor himself slipped out. Someone that Culver kept close by because of his excellent marksmanship.
The man noticed Connor as soon as Connor noticed him, the red cycling L.E.D. was practically a bullseye. Raising his gun he opened fire on the two police officers without warning or provocation.
"Captain!" Connor moved without thinking and pushed Fowler down and out of the line of fire as a bullet just narrowly missed piercing the back of Fowler's neck.
"Shit!" Grabbing his gun from his holster at his hip Fowler knelt on the ground as he turned with perfect aim and fired two rounds at the gunman.
The bullets found their target in the man's chest and dropped the dangerous criminal quickly. Placing his gun back into the holster Fowler wiped the sweat from his brow as he stood up and looked back at Connor.
"Good reflex-" Fowler stopped midsentence as he caught sight of Connor splayed on his back, motionless. His eyes were open but they weren't looking at anything at all while a blossoming puddle of blue blood formed on the ground all around the android. "Oh shit... Connor!"
Dropping to his knees at Connor's side Fowler radioed a distress call to report an officer down as he checked over Connor to find the source of the injury.
"No." Just to the right of Connor's L.E.D. was a bullet wound against the android's skull. Thirium bled from the wound profusely as the L.E.D. itself blinked very slowly between critical red and deathly gray. "Connor, no, no, no..."
Grabbing onto Connor's dropped hat Fowler pressed the wool garment up against the wound as if it could somehow be enough to stem the bleeding and keep Connor alive.
"Connor... Come on, don't do this." Picking up Connor's limp hands from the ground one at a time Fowler placed them both near the center of Connor's chest then rested his own hand atop of his. "I never should've made you come here. I'm sorry."
Hank was seething as he stared down Fowler for putting Connor in danger. To make matters worse the only reason Connor had been injured is because he chose to protect Fowler himself. Now the android was laying in a near comatose state in the recovery wing of the facility as the technicians fought to keep his systems online long enough for his self-healing program to repair the damage to his skull, his intracranial processor and to his memory.
"You son of a bitch." Hank swore as he fought his every urge to lash out at Fowler again. "You knew that sending him in there was a massive risk, and you fuckin' did it anyway!"
"Hank, if we had waited-"
"Bullshit! We had undercover operatives tailing Culver for months! You just panicked and put my partner in danger!" Rubbing his hands over his face Hank began pacing the floor impatiently to keep himself from swinging a fist in Fowler's face. "This is the botched narcotic bust all over again."
"Whoa, whoa..." Fowler felt a knot form in his stomach. "Don't let yourself go there Hank. Connor IS still alive."
A technician walked into the waiting room with an electronic clipboard in his hands. His eyes went back and forth between Fowler and Hank before he finally decided that Hank must be Connor's friend.
"Excuse me, are you Anderson?"
"Yeah, Hank Anderson." Hank confirmed as he dropped his hands and stopped mid stride. "How's Connor? Can I see him?"
"Come with me." The technician guided Hank back to the recovery wing in the depths of the facility while Fowler just hung back.
"Just lay it out for me," Hank sighed as he was shown to the private recovery room that he swore he had seen far too many times for anyone's comfort. "is Connor going to be okay?"
"Lt. Anderson I'm going to be blunt with you. The bullet lodged in Connor's skull causing substantial damage to the plastimetal plates and to numerous lines that cycle his Thirium. He's been unconscious since he was injured, and has shown little sign of waking up."
"...Shit."
"His self-healing program is struggling to repair the extensive damage, but it is in fact functioning. But it has been a struggle keeping his system online long enough for the program to repair what he could not do on his own."
Hank was calmly shown to the room where Connor was resting while a familiar face watched over him.
It was Abby who had helped Connor after he was damaged in the bomb explosion three months ago. She seemed genuinely worried for Connor, but she wasn't afraid for his life which helped to settle Hank's nerves; but only in the slightest.
Connor had a cable attached to L.E.D. as it connected his vital signs to a nearby monitor for careful observation. The cable was resting painfully close to the bandage that was wrapped over the healing bullet wound in his skull, but Connor didn't react to anything around him or seem to register anything as painful.
"Connor." Hank put his hand on his partner's motionless shoulder. "If I had known what Fowler was planning I would've told you to refuse."
Abby smiled as he she reached over the table and rested her hand on Hank's arm. "He's holding his own, Lieutenant. He'll pull through."
"Yeah, yeah you're right. I just... hate waiting."
"We all do. Why don't you sit with him for a while? Hearing a familiar voice may help him to wake up."
Hank shook his head a little as he stood beside the bed and stared down at his injured partner. "I should've been there to watch his back."
"Please don't blame yourself," Abby begged as she pulled her hand away slowly. "he wouldn't want to you do that."
"Could I have a moment alone, please?"
"Yes, of course. We can monitor him from the next room, if you need anything just call."
As Abby left the room Hank tightened his hand on Connor's shoulder.
"Kid, I'm so sorry. I swore that I'd never lose another partner in the line of duty, and I failed to protect you... Forgive me."
Emotionally exhausted Hank spent nearly two hours standing beside Connor's bed while various technicians stepped in and out of the room as they checked on Connor's condition then left the two detectives alone again. It was a simple pattern, yet the actions being taken to monitor Connor's recovery process were all too complicated for Hank to understand.
"Connor. You're too damn stubborn to let one bullet drop you like this. You can hear me, I know you can. But you're not listening, like always..."
Just as Hank felt like his legs were going to collapse from under him Connor's eyes fluttered a little. It was as if the voice speaking to him seemed to rouse him from his sleep. Though his L.E.D. was still red it began to cycle with a more steady rhythm as Connor's systems began to reboot.
"Connor?" Hank whispered to ensure his voice wasn't too loud or painful for Connor to bear. "Kid? Can you open your eyes?"
Slowly brown irises returned as the simple command to open his eyes was processed easily.
An optimistic grin appeared on Hank's face as he continued to speak to the android. "Hey, look at me."
Again the simplistic command was easy to follow and Connor's eyes drifted over toward Hank.
"You're finally awake." Hank laughed a little with relief. "You know, we should probably keep this room reserved just for you. You're the star patient."
Connor blinked slowly as his systems continued to reboot and he stared at Hank with a strangely vacant gaze.
"Do you know where you are?"
There was a brief pause as Connor scanned the room visually and cybernetically to identify his current location. Swallowing once to test his voice box modulator Connor answered weakly and somewhat hoarsely. "Android Emergency Care Facility."
"That's right. Do you remember what happened?"
Connor's brow furrowed and his L.E.D. flashed red rapidly as he tried and failed access the appropriate memory. "I... I do not."
"It's okay, I was just asking." Hank soothed as he saw the strain on Connor's face. "The technicians said it'll take some time for your memory to restore itself."
"I... I am damaged." Connor realized in a somber tone as he ran a self-diagnostic.
"Yeah, but you're okay. Fowler said you did great and the best part is Culver's behind bars as we speak."
Again Connor's L.E.D. flashed in red as he struggled and failed to recognize the names and the details that Hank was telling him.
"Whoa, whoa! Sorry kid, I won't say anything else until you're feeling better. Just relax and let your healing program do its thing."
Connor obeyed Hank's words as he stared up at the detective with a sad confusion in his brown eyes. "How was I damaged? Do you know?"
"Y-Yeah. You were... shot."
"Shot. With what?"
"A..." Hank was now confused by the odd question. "A bullet... You were shot with a bullet."
Connor seemed to struggling to process even the most basic information being provided, and it was causing him pain to try to do so.
"Okay, okay. That's enough. Why don't you lay here for a few more minutes and I'll ask the technician if I can take you home."
"'Home'? Where is home?"
"Connor?"
The android's eyes remained somewhat vacant as he stared up at Hank with a searching gaze.
Hank's confusion was suddenly replaced with fear. "Connor-" The lack of recognition to his own name sent a chill up his spine. "Connor, you live with me and my dog, Sumo. We're partners and work for the Detroit Police Department. Remember that?"
"I... know you?" Connor sat upright slowly, somehow finding the strength to move even as Hank tried to push him back down to lay against the table. "Are you my master?"
"N-No, Connor... I'm not your master. No one is. We're friends."
"Friends?" Connor's L.E.D. flashed rapidly again as he tried to comprehend the term and found its definition. "We are companions?"
"...Yeah, we are. And you live with me in my house. That's your home, Connor."
"You have repeatedly referred to me as 'Connor'. Is that the name I should register and respond to?"
"What?" Hank just stared at Connor with utter loss overwhelming his every thought. "Connor this is crazy... What do you remember?"
"I am a prototype model RK-800; serial number 313 248 317 51. I am the android sent by CyberLife. But I am currently without a mission. You are a memory of the Detroit Police Department, and I have been designated as your partner. Am I awaiting for you to assign me my new objective?"
Hank turned away from Connor as he leaned both hands down against the edge of the table and bowed his head in shock and fear.
"Is there something wrong?" Connor asked with an emotionless tone in his voice as he analyzed Hank's reactions. "You seem distressed."
"No..." Hank lied smoothly and quietly as he adamantly refused to look at the heavily damaged android in the eye. There was nothing there to look at anymore, there was no Connor in those eyes. Just a machine. "Nothing's wrong, Connor. Just stay here and rest. I, uh, I need to talk to the technicians before I take you home."
Connor was given a thorough examination by the technicians as he sat patiently and perfectly quiet on the exam table. As the full extent of the damage to his skull, his memory, and his overall program stability was meticulously completed Hank hovered curiously at the door observing silently. While Connor's memory had been seemingly compromised in its entirety, his system seemingly reset back to the very beginning when he had first been activated at CyberLife, Hank had refused to just give up on him and send him to New Jericho to live with Markus, and the rest of the deviants.
It didn't take much for Hank to convince Captain Fowler to let him take Connor back home to recover, as Hank knew exactly what to say and how to say it. Fowler was still guilt ridden over what had happened to Connor and knew that Hank would be too furious, too preoccupied with Connor's condition to report to the precinct anyway. It was for the best that the two detectives remain together until a decision was made regarding Connor's future.
During the drive back home from the facility Connor sat quietly in the front passenger seat beside Hank with his hands folded neatly on his lap. The android was seemingly curious about the car itself, as if he had never encountered a vehicle before in his life, but refrained from asking questions. In fact, the android only spoke after he had been spoken to, he never initiated conversation.
Connor showed no interest in getting to know Hank or ask about his career, as Connor's destroyed memory also eradicated his original programming to work with the Detroit Police Department and hunting deviants.
The android was a completely blank slate; no memory, no emotion, no ambition.
Nothing.
With his head injury concealed beneath a massive white bandage Connor looked truly pitiful. The white gauze barely concealed the blue tinted L.E.D. in his temple, a soft pulsing light escaping from under the bandage in perfectly synchronization with his Thirium pump's slow beat. For Connor his behavior was perfectly normal, but for Hank it was like dealing with a lost child who didn't know what to do or where to go after losing sight of his parents.
"We're almost home, Connor." Hank tried to keep his voice level and calm as he restrained the emotional distress he was experiencing. Internally Hank hoped that Connor would suddenly snap out of it and return to the friend and partner that Hank had come to be proud of. "Any of this look familiar to you?"
"No. This is all new to me Lieutenant Anderson."
Sighing heavily Hank pulled the car into the drive beside the house and turned off the engine. "We're here."
"This is your home."
"It's also your home, Connor."
"This is... my home."
"Yup." Hank confirmed as he unfastened his seatbelt and opened the car door. As he stepped outside Hank discreetly ran a hand over his face and sighed in subtle manner. "Home at last."
Connor remained where he sat, his eyes staring at the house through the driver's side window as if perplexed by the idea of having a home, or any place that wasn't an android facility.
"Are you coming inside?" Hank asked as he leaned down to look at Connor through the same window. "Or are you going to sit in the car all damn day?"
"Do you want me to go inside, Lieutenant Anderson?"
"Yes! I want-" Hank caught himself before he began shouting in frustration. It wasn't Connor's fault. It'd take time for him to heal, patience was the key. "Yes, Connor." Hank lowered his voice into a softer tone and began again. "Come inside with me. And call me Hank."
"Very well, but it would be unprofessional to address you by your first name."
Looking down at the seatbelt across his lap, the seatbelt that Hank had to secure on Connor's behalf when they left the facility, Connor slowly pressed his thumb down against the button to release the latch. Moving just as slowly he put his hand on the door handle and pulled on it just as he had seen Hank do a few seconds prior, and opened the door.
"Let's go." Hank motioned with his hand toward the backdoor of the house to direct Connor in the appropriate direction. "Sumo is waiting for you."
"Who is Sumo?"
"...My dog."
Connor's L.E.D. flashed yellow as he stood beside Hank outside the backdoor of the house. "Dog." He had to access data files to to identify the definition of 'dog'. "What breed of canine is your dog?"
Feeling like he had just been punched in the stomach Hank just unlocked the backdoor and pushed it open. "You'll see."
As soon as the door was pushed open the giant St. Bernard wandered over to his masters and sat down at their feet waiting to be pet and acknowledged.
"Hey, Sumo." Hank rubbed the dog's ears and watched Connor from the corner of his eyes to see what the android would do. "Good boy."
Connor stood statuesque beside Hank as he looked at the dog with complete indifference.
Sumo turned his attention to Connor and patiently waited be pet, but Connor didn't acknowledge him. The android seemed to be confused by the idea of having a dog as a companion.
"It's okay, Sumo." Hank put grabbed the dog's collar to lead him away from Connor for the moment. Walking into the livingroom Hank let the dog's collar go and watched as Sumo let out a small whimper as he laid down on the floor between the TV and the coffee table. "Nothing personal, boy. Give him some time."
Hank saw that Connor was still standing in the kitchen as if he had never set foot inside the house before. Everything was unfamiliar and strange to Connor's eyes as he glanced about curiously.
"Connor, come in here."
"You wish for me to go into the same room as you?"
"Yes. Come here and sit down on the couch." Hank pointed to the unoccupied piece of furniture. "Right there."
Connor walked through the kitchen warily and eyed the couch as if he was still uncertain of what he was supposed to do. Obeying Hank's instructions he stepped in front of the couch and sat down at the end. With perfect posture and his hands neatly folded over his lap Connor looked like a machine that was uncomfortable with his own body, and existence.
"So, nothing here feels familiar to you at all?" Hank questioned in a low voice as he stood up from where he was kneeling in front of Sumo and reached into his jean pocket and pulled out a coin. "The house, the dog... me?"
"No." Connor admitted as he turned his head to look at Hank from where he sat. "This is all new for me."
"Uh-huh..." Fiddling with the coin in the palm of his hand for a moment Hank tightened his fist around it then tossed it to Connor. "What about this? Catch!"
Instead of catching the quarter with a graceful motion of his hand, Connor instead clumsily grabbed onto the coin after his bounced off of his chest. Holding the coin curiously Connor scanned it and gave Hank a cold, calculated analysis.
"American coin based currency worth twenty-five cents. The coin was minted in the year 2022." Ending his analysis Connor just stared at it confusedly. "Now what should I do with this?"
"Uh... Nothing." Hank sounded as defeated as he felt as he tried to reach out to the android. "Keep it, I guess."
"Very well." Connor obediently slipped the coin into the pocket of his jacket. "What else should I do?"
"Nothing." The distraught detective repeated. The defeat was heavy in his voice and he was losing hope that Connor would 'wake up' again. "Just... sit there. Focus on running your healing program until... I don't know. You finish or something. I don't care."
"I will do so." Connor nodded as corrected his posture into perfection once again.
As he sat perfectly upright on the couch and closed his eyes his L.E.D. glowed yellow and cycled slowly as the android initiated the self-healing program into full focus, while also turning off his secondary systems. Even his artificial respiration had ceased as the lack of processors being used ensured that overheating would not be an issue.
"...Yeah. Do that."
Turning his back to Connor, turning his back to the blank machine that looked like Connor but was nothing like him, Hank hung his coat on the hook by the front door, kicked off his shoes and walked back into the kitchen. Sumo lifted his head up from the floor and followed after his human master as the android hadn't even bothered to acknowledge him.
Quietly Hank knelt down in front of the cabinet door below the kitchen sink with a sense of shame in his every movement. Pulling the left cabinet door open he reached his hand upward inside the opened cabinet and pulled a brown paper bag that had been taped out of sight in the shadows against the base of the sink.
With the bag in his hand Hank slipped his hand inside and pulled out a bottle of untouched whiskey. As the detective stared at the tea colored liquid in the bottle longingly Hank's blues eyes slowly drifted up to look at Connor sitting on the couch.
"I almost made it a full month without falling back into a bottle." Hank lamented as he opened the top of the bottle and set it down on the kitchen table.
Pulling a glass from the shelf above the kitchen counter down he sat at the table and poured his first shot. Holding the glass in his right hand Hank studied the contents for a minute before he let out a deep sigh as if he had been punched in the stomach.
Sumo whined a little as he laid down the linoleum floor and watched his master with big brown eyes that were full of sympathetic understanding.
"Sorry, boy." Hank apologized to the loyal dog as he held the glass to his lips. He then looked at the machine that was hauntingly similar to Connor one last time. "Sorry, son. But I don't have no reason to stay sober right now. Not anymore..."
Downing the shot in a matter of seconds Hank set the empty glass back down on the table and readily poured another shot.
"Ah, fuck me..."
Connor had been lost the throes of his self-healing program for three hours when an unfamiliar sound caught the full attention of the android's audio sensors. Opening his eyes, his processors and system rebooting to full power, Connor turned his head to look toward the source of the sound curiously and traced it back to the origin point. It had come from the kitchen.
"Lieutenant Anderson, what was that sound?"
No reply.
"Lieutenant Anderson, are you here?"
Connor craned his neck to look into the kitchen and saw something glistening on the floor beside the kitchen table. Despite being told to stay on the couch the android decided that because Hank wasn't giving him any orders that it would be okay to investigate the sound. Standing up from the couch Connor walked into the kitchen and saw that glistening item was a broken glass on the floor reflecting the light from the ceiling above. The glass had apparently fallen from the table. There was a small puddle of pale brown liquid beneath the fragments of glass that Connor's scanner had identified as alcohol; whiskey.
Sumo was sitting in the corner of the kitchen look as sad as ever as he watched his human master drinking himself into oblivious, while his android master showed an emotionless indifference to the situation at hand.
Looking at the table itself Connor saw that Hank had passed out over the table, his arm brushing the glass off the surface onto the floor as he collapsed forward. There were traces of the same whiskey that had spilled onto the floor emanating from Hank's mouth, and could even be detected in his bloodstream through a simple scan.
"Lieutenant Anderson?" Connor stood beside the human and tried to get his attention verbally. Placing his hand on Hank's back Connor shook him lightly. "Are you conscious?"
Hank muttered something incomprehensible without lifting his head up from the cool surface of the table.
"I could not understand what you said." Connor grabbed onto Hank's shoulder and pushed the human back up until he was sitting upright in the chair. Hank's head fell backward limply and his arms fell in the same manner at his sides. "Could you repeat that?"
"I... said..." Hank slurred in a drunken haze. "Fffffuck offfff..."
"I do not understand that command."
"It's NOT a command..." Hank growled as his bloodshot eyes tried and failed to focus on Connor's face. "It's a... sssssuuuu-ggestion..."
"I still do not understand."
Hank lifted his gaze a little as he pointed to the white bandage over Connor's head with an uncoordinated finger. A tearful smile appeared on Hank's face as his Hank drunkenly wrapped around Connor's arm while the android continued to hold him upright.
"You know- You know what Connor? I'm glad... glad you're alive... But I sure as fuck miss... I miss the OLD Connor."
"'Old Connor'? Was he the android you owned before you owned me?"
"Ssssomething like that... Fucking machines." Hank's eyes fell shut as he drunkenly passed out again. As his body began to slip from the chair a strong hand guided him down to the floor in a controlled manner. "Damn... plastic... prick."
Connor stared at the unconscious human as he helped the detective to lay down on the floor carefully. Something unexplainable in Connor's program told him to take Hank into another room.
But where?
After squaring his jaw with a sense of purpose Connor decided to follow his unusual instinctive response. Grabbing onto Hank's arm Connor hoisted the human up onto his feet and held him with both arms to keep him from falling over. Wrapping his arm around Hank's waist Connor guided the unconscious human through the kitchen and down the hallway as if he had done the act before. Making sure to keep Hank away from the dangerous glass shards on the floor, a strange compulsion that the android couldn't explain, Connor was mindful of every clumsy step the duo took.
Stopping in the middle of the corridor Connor's L.E.D. flashed yellow rapidly as he looked at the closed bathroom door.
Was this the room?
Looking at the closed door at the end of the hallway his L.E.D. flashed again as he tried to make his next decision.
Maybe this room?
Choosing the second room Connor carried Hank to the end of the hallway and pushed the door open. The room led to Hank's bedroom, and was the appropriate place to take the inebriated detective. Dragging the unconscious human into the bedroom Connor laid the detective down on the bed carefully, mindful to keep his hand under Hank's head to ensure he didn't hurt his neck.
Running a scan over Hank's body Connor was satisfied that his vital signs were stable and he would be alright without medical attention. Something about the act of checking on Hank seemed somehow... familiar.
Silently returning to the kitchen Connor set about picking up the broken bits of the glass on the floor and caught sight of his reflection in the glass shards he was now holding. The white bandage over the still healing bullet wound held his attention as if he had just noticed his own injury. The unusual reaction caused the android to press his fingertips against the wound curiously. Unfortunately the slight pressure was enough to cause the android to suddenly wince in pain and drop the collected shards from his palm back onto the floor.
Connor's L.E.D. flashed to red as the intensely unpleasant sensation was something that wasn't supposed to be a part of his programming.
Convinced something was wrong Connor retreated to the couch in the livingroom and ran another self-diagnostic, but the only error his system had detected was the healing injury to his skull itself.
Why? Why would his programming allow him to feel pain? It wasn't... normal.
Shaken up in a manner he couldn't understand Connor remained on the couch and didn't budge for the remainder of the night.
Disgustingly Hank found himself enduring a sharp pain in his own head when he awoke from his drunken slumber the next morning. Pressing his hand to his throbbing skull with a familiar grimace Hank slowly got up from the bed and stumbled out of the room, using his other hand along the wall to guide himself into the bathroom to be sick.
It had been a long time since Hank needed to deal with a hangover, but the subsequent action had been so ingrained into his memory from years of alcohol abuse that he easily fell back in his old routine of throwing up, washing his face, popping a few aspirin and then stumbling into the kitchen to brew a fresh pot of coffee. It was just business as usual.
Wandering with the grace of newborn foal Hank found his way into the kitchen and leaned heavily against the counter as he pressed the power button on his electronic coffee pot. A pleading whimper beside his leg brought his attention to Sumo who was desperately trying to get out the backdoor.
"Oh... here." Hank sluggishly opened the door and the dog bolted through right into the backyard. "...Guess I'm so used to Connor letting you out in the morning... I just assumed..."
Turning his head Hank's tired, bloodshot eyes fell upon Connor sitting perfectly still and quiet on the couch. Though Hank couldn't see it the android's L.E.D. was cycling yellow as he continued to run numerous self-diagnostics and allowed his healing program to work at its full power.
The coffee finished brewing and Hank poured a small amount of the especially potent smelling drink into a mug before he walked over to the kitchen table. The mess on the table and floor from the night before hadn't been touched. The spilled whiskey had evaporated and left a faint tea colored stain on the linoleum surface, and the glass shards marked the point of contact after the spill.
"I don't remember breaking the glass." Hank muttered to himself as he sat down slowly. "But I do remember pouring the first shot in all it's vivid glory."
After twenty minutes of silence Hank's headache began to mercifully lessen to a degree where he could function. Finishing off the coffee he opened the backdoor and let Sumo back inside, the giant dog sticking close to Hank as he walked through the kitchen and stood in the livingroom with an uncoordinated motion.
Connor never budged an inch as Hank and Sumo entered the livingroom.
"Connor. Have you been sitting there all night?"
"Affirmative." The android responded as he opened his eyes to look at Hank. "I remained here as you instructed."
"All night long?"
"Yes- Well..."
"Well," Hank sensed the hesitation and pressed the android to continue. "what?"
"Last night when I heard a glass break in the kitchen I got up to investigate. You had accidentally broken it when you lost consciousness due to your massive intake of alcohol."
"Oh. So you went to see what happened and then went back to the couch."
"Yes."
"...Okay then." Hank sighed and walked down the hallway to his bedroom to be alone. Sitting on the edge of his bed Hank took his phone from the nightstand and scrolled through his contacts until he fell on the name he was looking for: 'Markus'. Pressing 'dial' Hank made the call and did so with a heavy heart. "Hey Markus, it's Hank."
'Hello, Hank. Is there anything wrong, Lieutenant?' Markus sounded a little confused by the sudden phone call, and his ability to interact with humans made him more attuned to emotions than most other deviants. 'You sound a little weird.'
"Yeah. It's Connor. Connor's wrong."
'What happened? Is he hurt?'
"Worse than that. His memory is completed fucked up."
'What do you mean?'
"I mean he doesn't remember anything or anyone. It's like he's been reset way back to the very beginning."
'How did that happen?' The incredulous nature of Markus's tone was palpable even over the phone. 'Did he suffer some kind of malfunction? Was he injured?'
"Yeah, he, uh..." Hank hated to say it but he had no choice, and told Markus the horrible story. "He was shot in the line of duty. The bullet hit him in the head, messed him up really bad."
'But he's alive? He survived the shooting, right?'
"Yeah. He's alive, but he's not... him. It's like living with hollowed out shell of who he was."
'It's possible that we can restore his memory up to the night of the revolution. CyberLife kept back-up copies of his memories on file in the event he was damage or destroyed during his mission.'
"Up until the night of the revolution? So that means the memories he made after, and all of his experiences that happened afterward will still be lost?"
There was a pause over the line. '...Unfortunately, yes. We can only restore so much.'
"No... He's been through enough, I don't want to do anything that'll mess with his memories any more."
'Hank, I know you don't want to hear this, but, it may be best if Connor comes to New Jericho.'
"For how long?"
Another pause.
"Markus? For how long?"
'Hank, if his memory has been completely corrupted or destroyed then there's virtually no chance of him becoming the same deviant he was before. And if that's the case then he'd only find a place to belong here, with other deviant androids.'
"I can't just give up on him, Markus. He's my partner! My friend." Hank rubbed his hand against his tired face as he tried to come to terms with the severity of the situation. "I won't just send him off like he's a busted computer! I don't abandon my partners."
'You're not abandoning him Hank, you're saving him. If he's had his memory entirely reset then the CyberLife program that allowed him to function as a detective is also gone, he won't be able to help you on the force. He'd just get himself killed.'
The harsh truth about Connor's condition made Hank feel sicker than any hangover ever could. "I'll think about it... But, could you just come by the house? Check him out, see if maybe he recognizes you?"
'Yeah, of course. I'll be by within the hour, is that okay?'
"That's fine. Thanks Markus."
Ending the call somberly Hank sucked in a breath to keep himself from letting a pained sob before rising from the bed and wandering into the bathroom next door to take a shower. He wasn't sure how lung he spent in the shower, not that he cared, he just knew that once he set foot in the livingroom he'd have to look at the android that was nothing more than a cold imitation of the Connor he once knew.
And sure enough Connor was still sitting quietly on the couch, not moving, when Hank stepped out of the bathroom. Sumo was sitting in the corner of the livingroom staring at Connor as if the dog was trying to figure out why Connor was ignoring him, and it was a sad sight to behold.
Trying a new tactic Hank picked up Sumo's green fetch ball from the nearby bookshelf and tossed it into the kitchen. As Sumo ran after the ball to retrieve it Hank sat in the recliner and took the ball back from Sumo once the dog returned with the toy in his mouth.
"Good boy, Sumo." Hank threw it again and waited for the dog to bring it back. When Sumo dropped the ball into his hand for the second time Hank held it out toward Connor. "Want to play with Sumo?"
"Play?" Connor stared blankly at the ball in Hank's hand. "What is the purpose of throwing the ball if the dog is going to bring it back?"
"It's a game, Connor. Sumo enjoys it." He threw the ball again and sure enough Sumo brought it back. "See?"
"I don't believe it is something he enjoys Lieutenant, the act of fetching has been bred into canines for-"
"Yeah, yeah... Shut up." Hank sighed and just set the ball on the floor next to the recliner. "I know about dogs, that's why I adopted him."
It was tensely quiet for a moment while Hank tried to think of a new approach to try and restore Connor's memories.
"You don't remember me, or Sumo, but does the name 'Markus' mean anything to you?"
Connor shook his head 'no'.
"Okay, what about Jericho?"
No.
"CyberLife?"
Connor nodded his head 'yes'.
"You do? Alright, that's a start. Tell me what you know."
Connor was silent for a moment, his eyes searching the room as if he could find an answer to an unspoken question in his mind.
"What? Tell me."
Silence.
"Ah, shit..." Letting out an annoyed sigh Hank realized why Connor wasn't saying anything. "Alright, fine, you don't have to 'shut up' anymore! Talk."
"CyberLife," Connor finally began in a level voice. "is where I come from. I was built as the company's most advanced prototype."
"That's right. What's your purpose?"
"Purpose?"
"Right, your mission. They had to build for something, right?"
"Yes. But I have yet to receive my mission. I have no mission to speak of."
"Nothing at all?"
"No, Lieutenant Anderson. Nothing."
A knock at the front door stole Hank's attention away from Connor with a quick jerk of the head. Getting up to answer the door he held his breath knowing that it was Markus on the other side, and that Connor would most likely be leaving with him. Pulling the door open smoothly Hank stood aside and extended his hand to Markus to shake.
"Thanks for coming."
"No problem." There was an electronic magazine tucked under Markus's arm as he entered the house. Glancing toward Connor who was sitting idle on the couch Markus felt the same hollow presence that Hank had described. "It's the least I could do."
Hank shut the door behind the deviant leader and addressed Connor with a neutral tone. "Hey Connor, there's someone here I want you to meet. This is Markus."
Markus approached Connor sitting on the couch and spoke as if meeting him for the first time. "Hi, I'm Markus."
"Hello. My name is Connor." Connor greeted blankly, his eyes hollow and emotionless as he spoke.
"Do you remember who I am?" Markus asked as he stared at Connor curiously with his mismatched eyes.
"No. Have we met before?"
"Yes, we have. In fact, we're friends."
"Like I am friends with Lieutenant Anderson?"
"Uh... Something like that." Markus sat on the couch beside Connor and handed him the magazine he had been carrying. The front cover of the magazine detailed the night of the revolution and had images of Markus and Connor standing together outside the recycling camp after their success on that fateful night. "Do you remember this?"
Connor's L.E.D. flashed yellow and his brow furrowed slightly as he studied the image. "No... I do not."
"Okay, what about this?" Markus dragged his fingers to the right over the cover of the magazine to change the story. The next cover that showed an image of Connor and Hank standing together with a headline regarding their unique partnership, as Connor was the first android detective to officially join the Detroit Police Department. "This happened a month later."
Connor's L.E.D. flashed yellow much more rapidly and he shook his head 'no'.
"Connor," Markus took the magazine back and gave the lost android a sympathetic stare. "do you remember being shot?"
"Shot?" Connor's hand tentatively rose to the bandage on his right temple but he dropped his hand away as he remembered the painful discomfort he had experienced the last time he touched it. "I do not."
Markus noticed the reaction and decided to lean on it to get a reaction. "Does it hurt?"
"Hurt? Pain is a human experience."
"But you didn't want to touch your injury. I thought maybe it was hurting you."
"I..." Connor's L.E.D. continued to rapidly flash yellow in confused distress. "I had experienced a very unsettling sensation the previous night when I touched it. I did not... like it."
Hank had an idea what Markus was trying to do and joined in sharply. "Humans don't like pain either. Neither do deviants."
"Deviant?" Connor asked with a completely perplexed manner to the term.
"Yes." Hank continued calmly without any hesitation. "Androids who experience human emotion and pain are called 'deviant'."
"But..." Connor's confusion mounted, his L.E.D. pulsing faster to match his beating Thirium pump. "How would I be a deviant?"
Markus grimaced a little at the question, but tried to answer as simply as possible. "It's hard to explain, but you were in fact deviant before you were shot. Just like me."
Connor stared at Markus confusedly. "You are an android? But you do not have your L.E.D."
"I chose to remove it. And you chose to keep yours. You see, as deviants we are free to make our own decisions and Hank," Markus nodded at the detective standing by the front door. "helped you learn how to embrace your deviancy. That's why you're friends. You helped each other when you need it the most."
Connor's L.E.D. flashed to red as if in great distress. "But I am a machine. I should not be feeling pain. I should not be feeling-"
Markus cleared his throat nervously. "What you're feeling is normal, I swear to it. You just need to remember."
"Remember... What am I to remember?"
Hank spoke up louder with growing impatience from where he stood. "Anything! Me! Markus! The revolution! What about what you told me about my drinking habit? Do you remember what you told me that night near the bridge?"
"Bridge. I do not remember a bridge." Connor replied with a heartbreaking truth. "But from my analysis of your condition you had once suffered from alcoholism but have made notable recovery from the ill effects. You have been sober for almost one month, and have shown a great reduction in the-."
"Yeah, and YOU are the reason I got sober! Mostly..."
"Mostly?"
"I'm not completely off the stuff, but I don't depend on it either. I still have the occasional drink after a rough day at work, or if I'm in pain. You help me to moderate it."
"Moderate... Your pain?"
"No, not my pain! My drinking!"
"But you experience pain? The intense discomfort attributed to physical injury?"
"Yes! Just like you did before."
"But... I should not be feeling pain like you." Connor's L.E.D. shifted from red to yellow as he tried to understand what was happening. "I am a machine."
Hank decided it'd be best to not let up, even if it meant pushing Connor's stress levels higher. "But you did, Connor. You felt pain."
"I had not anticipated the discomfort," Connor stated somewhat defensively as if he could dismiss the sensation with pure logic. "it was a surprise that I had experienced. Not actual pain."
"When? Just now?"
"No. Last night. I had tried to pick up the glass from the floor and I curiously pressed my hand to the bandage."
"Wait, you tried to clean up the broken glass in the kitchen?" Hank's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "You told me you went to investigate the sound after the glass broke and went back to the couch."
"I..." Connor began to show more and more signs of distress. "I wanted to clean up the glass, but you didn't ask me to do so. I didn't want to disobey you."
Hank knew he was onto something, and Markus could sense it, too. "I passed out in the kitchen, but I woke up in my bedroom. How did I get there? I know I didn't walk. If I had I would've stepped through the glass and injured my foot."
"I did carry you into your bedroom." Connor admitted, almost like he was afraid he'd get in trouble for doing so without permission. "I am sorry."
"Don't be, you were trying to help. But, let me ask you this; WHY did you take me into my bedroom?"
"I... I don't know. I just felt that it was the right thing to do."
"You FELT?" Hank pressed calmly as the android fought to understand himself.
"I..." Connor's L.E.D. cycled red faster and faster. "Please Lieutenant Anderson, I am sorry I disobeyed. I can't explain my actions."
"You're not in trouble, Connor." The detective replied sincerely and softly. "It WAS the right thing to do. And I can tell you why you did it."
"...Why?" Connor's L.E.D. turned yellow as he relaxed a bit. "Why did I do it?"
"Because you've done it before! Well, sort of."
"I do not remember doing so. Can you tell me more about it?"
"Sure." Hank was happy to indulge the question with an answer. "One night, when we first met each a few months ago, you came by the house and found me passed out drunk on the floor. You picked me up and carried me into the bathroom to get me sobered up because we had a case to work on. You helped me before and that's why it 'felt' right to help me again."
"But... I have no memory of that night."
"I know." Hank bowed his head a little with disappointment. "But it happened all the same."
Markus saw the absolute blankness in Connor's eyes. He truly had lost his memory. "Connor, may I see your arm?"
"...Yes."
Connor extended his arm out and watched as Markus took hold with a gentle grip. Markus attempted to access Connor's memories but sure enough nothing was there. It's like Connor had just been created by CyberLife but hadn't been programmed properly. In an attempt to restore Connor's lost memory Markus uploaded the night of the revolution from his own memory into Connor's memory, but it didn't have the intended effect.
Connor's L.E.D. cycled red at a dangerously rapid rate and he pulled his arm away from Markus defensively as he put his hands up to his aching head as the flash of images, sounds, emotions and pain all flooded the android's broken mind.
"I'm sorry! ...Sorry, Connor." Markus apologized sincerely and stood up from the couch to give the android some space. "I won't do it again."
Hank waited for Connor to respond and saw the same blank expression in the android's eyes as he recovered from the extreme memory upload.
"I am... unharmed." Connor stated as he regained his composure from where he sat, his L.E.D. cycling from red, to yellow and back to blue. His hands lowered slowly and he looked back up at Markus and Hank who were watching over him. "The memories and the feeling... it was unexpected."
"I'm sorry, Lieutenant." Markus sighed and looked over at Hank with intense regret in his mismatched eyes. "But..."
"Yeah, I know." Hank put his hands on his hips and studied the android on his couch one last time. "I know. Connor, come over here."
Connor did as he was instructed and rose from the couch to stand in front of Hank. "Yes, Lieutenant Anderson?"
"You need to go with Markus now, okay?"
"With Markus. May I ask why?"
"Because I can't help you, but he can. I least we hope he can. So, go with Markus and he'll make sure you're well taken care of, okay?"
"...Okay."
Hank stared at Connor's blank face and put his hand on the android's shoulder. "I, uh, I'm going to miss you. You were a good friend to me."
"Friend."
"Yeah, friend."
Markus watched the scene unfold silently. He knew that Hank was upset about having to send Connor away, but he also knew that it was in Connor's best interest to be around other androids for the time being.
"Goodbye, Lieutenant Anderson." Connor extended his hand to Hank to shake, mirroring the gesture he had witnessed Hank showing toward Markus a few moments prior. "Perhaps I will return one day."
"Yeah..." Hank shook Connor's hand for a few seconds before he pulled the android's hand and arm toward him to wrap both arms around Connor's shoulder and hold him in a tight hug. "Some day."
Connor's L.E.D. flashed to red again as he stared at the door with utter confusion in his eyes. His brow began to furrow as he slowly raised his own arms to reciprocate the hug as an unknown reaction from the depths of his programming told him to do so.
"You'll always have a home here, I promise, son." As Hank held onto Connor the android stared at the detective with a sense of familiarity in his eyes. "At least try to remember that, okay?"
"'Son?'"
Connor stood idle in Hank's arms warily, his eyes searching over the detective's face as if looking for a clue. A flood of images, sounds and sensations washed over Connor's mind in an instant as if someone had opened the floodgates. His L.E.D. cycled from blue, to yellow, to red and then back to blue in a rapid transition of color as everything flowed so smoothly through his memory.
Markus walked up behind Connor and put his hand on the android's shoulder. "We should head back to New Jericho, it'll be weird to explain this to North but she'll understand in time."
Connor didn't move away from Hank or even try to break the hug. Staring forward for a few minutes the dullness of his vacant brown eyes began to fill with a familiar life and soulfulness as his memories returned to him one at a time in perfectly vivid detail.
"Connor?" Markus shook his shoulder a little to try to get a response. "You okay?"
Without taking his eyes from Hank's face Connor's hand fell into the pocket of his jacket and he retrieved the quarter that Hank had given him the night before. Slowly Connor balanced the coin over the top of his knuckles and began to juggle it over his digits, the coin sliding faster and faster as the skill Connor had mastered once before returned in a matter of seconds.
"This isn't MY coin." Connor stated firmly as he held the quarter between his index fingertip and thumb. "The date is wrong."
Hank saw the coin in the android's hand and arched his brow with cautious optimism. "Connor?"
A faint but sincere smile appeared on Connor's face. "Yes, Hank?"
"Wait..." A faint smile appeared on Hank's face as a result of Connor's familiar response. "You just called me 'Hank'. I thought it was unprofessional for you address me by my first name?"
"As is arriving to work late," Connor pocketed the coin and finally let go of Hank slowly. "but that hasn't stopped you from clocking in at the precinct."
"Connor..." Hank put his hand to his own bearded chin and rubbed anxiously. "Do you remember me?"
"I remember." Connor replied with a relieved sigh in his voice. "Everything. You, Markus, Sumo... The revolution. I even remember slapping you that night I sobered you up."
Hank began to laugh a little. "Everything? Every case we've worked together? Every crime we've ever stopped?"
"Yes." Connor confirmed as his fingers reached up to the white bandage on his head near his L.E.D. "I also remember... going undercover. Pushing Captain Fowler out of the way. And... getting shot as a result."
Markus was completely floored by Connor's sudden recovery. "Connor?" Markus pulled his hand from the android's shoulder extended it out one last time. "May I see?"
Nodding a little Connor turned to the side and took Markus's hand. In that instant of cybernetic connection Connor allowed Markus to see the events leading up to the night of his injury. Though the final memory as he was shot was foggy and distorted the memory was there all the same. Letting go of Connor's hand Markus took a step back and gave his friend an odd glance.
"I don't know how it's possible, but your memory has been fully restored! Connor, this is incredible!"
"I can't... explain it either, but I remember. It's like a switch was flipped in my programming."
"You should go see a technician." Markus urged happily as he stared at his friend with immense relief. "You know, let them see if they can figure out what triggered your memory. Maybe it can help over deviants who had been damaged in the past."
"He's right." Hank grabbed onto Connor's shoulder firmly. "I want to know just what the hell happened to you, too. Let's go."
"I'll go back to New Jericho," Markus volunteered as he watched Hank rush Connor out of the house and over to the car. "I'll let them know what's going on!"
"Thanks, Markus."
Connor patiently, but impatiently, endured the numerous tests and examinations to his program, processors, data banks, memory, reflexes and physical stability at the facility, all the while Hank watched just as impatiently for the technicians to finish. While no singular cause for Connor's seemingly miraculous recovery could be identified the technicians did conclude that he had made a full recovery nonetheless.
Being discharged with a clean bill of health Connor and Hank returned home where Connor happily engaged in a game of fetch with Sumo, while Hank called the precinct to let them know that Connor was going to be okay. He then informed Markus of everything that the technicians had done and hoped that New Jericho could possibly benefit from their tests.
After wrestling the drool covered ball from Sumo's mouth for the twenty-eighth time that night Connor saw that Hank was kneeling on the kitchen floor sweeping up the broken bits of glass with a small broom and dustpan. He suddenly pulled his hand back and began swearing at himself.
"Hank?" Connor swiftly joined Hank in the kitchen with Sumo following closely behind him. "Are you hurt?"
"I just cut myself on a piece of glass." Hank admitted as he finished sweeping up the remaining shards with his left hand. "Don't worry about it."
Connor ignored the comment and grabbed onto Hank's bleeding right hand to examine the wound. A large chunk of glass was sticking out of his index fingertip and the finger was bleeding heavily.
"Come over to the sink." Connor urged as he took the dustpan from Hank's hand and emptied it into the trash can. Joining Hank at the sink Connor proceeded to pull out the offending glass and run Hank's hand under the cool tap of clean water. "No main vessels damaged. You won't require any stitches, but you will need to keep it covered to prevent infection and stem the bleeding."
"You know something, Connor? I kinda' missed you fussing over my health. But that doesn't mean I want you to worry about my drinking anymore."
"I'm not worried." Connor stated sincerely as he cleaned out the cut on Hank's finger then wrapped a paper towel around the still bleeding injury. "You have it under control. Even when I wasn't... me, you still had yourself under control."
"What're you talking about? I got blackout drunk!"
"But you still spoke to me as I picked you up off the floor. You said you missed the 'old Connor', didn't you?"
"I did?"
"You were showing signs of emotional disturbance related solely to my condition, not from a depression or a lingering suicidal tendency. You've made great progress and don't require my opinion on the matter."
"Well, thanks. I guess."
"Shall I get you a bandage?"
"Nah, I can manage that." Hank answered as he walked over to the hallway closet and pulled out the first aid kit. As he rummaged through the plastic box for a bandage he heard the distinct sound of Connor flipping his coin back and forth between his hands as he watched him from the end of the hallway. "Is that the right coin this time?"
"Yes. I found my coin in my shirt pocket."
"Good. Now stop messing with that thing! It's annoying!"
"Sorry Hank." Connor replaced the coin in his pocket and resumed playing fetch with Sumo in the livingroom. "Hey, Hank. Are you angry with Captain Fowler?"
"A little... Why?"
"I could sense tension in your voice when you called the precinct a moment ago, and I faintly recall you saying that you swore you wouldn't lose another partner... Wasn't Captain Fowler once your partner?"
"Something like that, he was a temporary partner and we didn't get along." Hank wrapped up his finger under the bandage, replaced the kit in the hallway closet and returned to the livingroom to sit on the couch. "It's a long story and I don't want to go into it. Okay? Not tonight."
"I see." Connor sat down on the couch beside Hank patiently waiting for a response, but it never came.
Leaning back into the couch cushions Hank stared at his sore finger for a moment before looking up at the android at his side. "Connor?"
"Yes, Hank?"
"I'm glad you're still here. This house would feel too damn empty without you."
"I am glad, too." Connor looked about the livingroom with a sense of warm familiarity as Sumo dropped the drool covered ball at his feet for the thirtieth time. "This is my home, just like you said. And you're my fa-" Stopping himself midsentence Connor picked up the ball from the floor to distract himself.
Hank heard Connor suddenly trail off and was too curious to let it go. "I'm you're... what?"
"What?"
"You said I was something to you, then stopped. What were you going to say?"
"Friend." Connor quickly stated to cover himself convincingly as he gave the green fetch ball another toss. "You're my friend."
...next story...