"Normalcy"

The coming weeks were difficult for both the android and the Lieutenant following the trial. Hank and Connor had both been confined to the house for a few weeks after Hank's mandatory suspension after going rogue in Maine, though Connor was certainly grateful for the company as he tried his best to transition back into a sense of normalcy.

Four months. That's how long it had been since he'd been home. The android had hesitantly wondered if Sumo would even recognize him after he'd been gone so long. But the Saint Bernard had practically tackled him the moment he walked through the door.

"Hey, Sumo!" Connor half laughed petting the enormous dog as he was assaulted with nudges and licking from the dog. "I missed you, buddy."

Hank closed the front door and stepped over the two of them, stumbling and half falling onto the couch adjacent from the door as he rubbed his face.

"Agh, Jesus my head." He moaned before letting his arm fall to the side. How long had it been since he slept more than four hours? "I'm getting too old for this shit." Connor looked up from where he was seated on the ground.

"Hank?" He asked, "Is everything alright?"

"Eh? It's nothing, nothing." He swatted his left hand at the android while his other arm lay over his eyes. "Just tired I think."

"Perhaps you should rest." Connor remarked. "You'll have some time off thanks to your suspension and you look…" He paused, his L.E.D cycling yellow for a moment. "...awful."

"No fuckin' way." Hank replied, lifting his arm from his face. "You went AWOL for almost three months and have been through some heavy shit lately. If I go to sleep, you're just gonna sit here in the dark all…" he made a strange gesture and placed his arm back over his eyes, like he was trying to find the right words. "... freaky-like and beat yourself up."

"So you're just gonna sit here?"

"Yeah." Hank nodded.

"Watching me."

"Yeah."

Connor gave a pause staring at the ground for a moment before looking up.

"You're babysitting me?" Hank chuckled slightly and lifted his arm from his face.

"If that's what you want to call it then sure."

"I don't need a babysitter, Hank." Connor retorted, "And you need to rest tonight. You look like you haven't slept in…" Connor paused, quickly running a diagnosis, his L.E.D. blinking yellow. "43 hours." Hank scoffed lightly.

"Is that your professional opinion or can you see it on my face?"

"Neither." Connor responded, "My systems are capable of running incredibly accurate medical-"

"Shit I know, I know." Hank grumbled, waving him off again. "Listen son, I know you're probably feeling a bit scrambled right now and I'm not saying I don't trust you, I just don't want you running off again and doing something stupid. Wounds are all fresh right now, you know? It's probably best for both of us to lay low for a while anyways." He sighed, his mind drifting into his own memories. "This kind of shit always gives the press a hard on for a few days after."

"I understand that, Hank." Connor responded, rubbing Sumo's head before getting up from the floor. "I'm not planning on running off. I don't have anywhere else to go." He muttered.

"Yeah well, the past few months haven't exactly given me that peace of mind if you know what I mean." Hank ordered the TV on before shifting into a more comfortable position. "I probably couldn't sleep well tonight anyways without knowing you're back to your goofy, uptight self."

"Uptight?" Connor murmured to himself, under his breath.

"Hey there's some shit for you over on the table by the way." Hank said, pointing to the cluttered kitchen table. "Chris dropped them off yesterday, said someone's been sending it through the precinct.

"Oh, right." Connor replied, walking into the kitchen. He had almost forgotten about the monthly letters he had been receiving lately. He picked up the small stack of letters and brought them back to the living room, taking a seat on the couch next to where Hank was lounging. The detective sat up.

"What is that anyways?" He asked, peering over the android's shoulder. "I don't need to worry about the debt collectors coming for your ass do I?" He read the sender's name out loud. "Emma Phillips..."

"No...nothing like that." Connor replied, carefully tearing open the first letter. "Do you remember when I talked to you about one of my first cases involving deviants? Before I joined the precinct."

"Yeah, the uh hostage negotiation, right?"

"Correct." He began pulling out photos one-by-one and setting them on the couch between Hank and himself. "After the revolution, the little girl I rescued started sending me letters about once every month."

"Fan mail huh?" Hank joked, picking up one of the photos and examining it. A dark haired little girl smiled into the camera in what looked like a public park. An older woman kneeled hugging her from behind. "Cute kid." He remarked. Connor hummed in agreement.

"The android involved shot the little girl's father that night. Emma herself witnessed the shooting of at least two cops." He fumbled through the envelope until he found the actual letter, scanning through the little girl's messy handwriting. "Her mother found it best for her to leave Detroit shortly after." He paused, handing the letter to Hank when he noticed him looking over his shoulder and squinting, trying to read from a distance. The detective grabbed his glasses off the table next to him and looked over the note himself. Connor began opening the second letter as Hank read the first one. "They live in Berkely now."

"Less people, less androids." Hank mused quietly.

"The first time I received her letters, her mother wrote to me as well. She stated she never thought of androids as capable of anything more than household chores and basic jobs. She began to doubt that following the hostage negotiation and even more so when she began seeing Detroit androids protesting peacefully on the news."

He looked up for a moment and then down to one of the pictures the little girl had sent him. It looked like it had been taken at some kind of swimming hole or lake.

"She thanked me for saving her daughter's life. She told me that Emma had been asking about me for months, wanting to write letters and see how I was doing." He read through Emma's second letter, pausing for a moment in confusion, then looked to Hank who was still squinting at the first letter. His L.E.D. cycled yellow for a moment. "She asked about Daniel again…" he muttered.

"Daniel?" Hank asked, not looking up from what he was reading. "Who's that?"

"The android who held her hostage following his deviation." Hank looked up for a moment gazing bewildered at Connor. "He...was shot and shut down by one of the officers at the scene after I talked him down. She asked if he's with me...If I...took care of him after he got hurt." His mind slipped back into the evidence locker when he was searching for Jericho, the few seconds he had to speak with him before the android's remains shut down permanently.

I hope you PAY for what you've done.

Connor liked to believe he had.

"Kids really are the most forgiving humans you'll find." Hank laughed humorlessly, "Even after being held at gunpoint, they'll still write to check up on you."

"She...had an attachment to him, as did he with her. At the time I may have thought it was just faulty programming but they truly seemed to care for eachother. I'd never seen that before. An android and a human forming some kind of...familial bond."

"Maybe 'Daniel' had started to show signs of deviation before he snapped, or maybe you guys were just always hardwired that way."

"It's possible." Connor trailed off thinking back to the weeks before his deviancy. "I certainly began to feel...differently about certain things before I truly deviated. Maybe Daniel did too. I just wish…" Hank noted the troubled look on his face. "I wish I could have done something to save him. I never thought of androids having people who would miss them."

"Times were different then, Connor." Hank sighed heavily, "He killed a human. He never would have survived even if you'd kept him from getting shot. He would have been...er-"

"Disassembled." Connor answered, nodding.

"Yeah, torn apart...not that I need that fucking imagery in my head." He thought back to the day he'd fucked up Perkins in the middle of the precinct. He was certainly angry but never really would have thought twice about being taken off the case until he'd talked to Connor. In fact, he had started to wonder if he was really doing the right thing by hunting down the deviants in their cases. But when he heard that kid talk about what Cyberlife would do to him, the desperation and fear in his voice when he asked for help, he couldn't really refuse.

The pair sat in silence for a moment as Connor started to read the fourth and final letter he'd been sent.

"Emma's turning 11 next month." He remarked quietly, mostly talking to himself. "September."

"Ya ever write her back?" Hank asked, "From the sound of it she seems to admire you." Connor shook his head.

"I was never sure how to respond. She tells me about her life, school, how her day has been and sends me pictures of her mother and her. And when she asks about Daniel I can't help but feel...guilty." He looked to Hank to receive some kind of words of guidance. "I'm honestly surprised she's still been writing these letters despite never receiving anything back."

"Well, she seems lonely...from what I can tell at least." Hank responded, putting a hand on the android's shoulder. "Maybe she just needs somebody to talk to. Might be in the same boat as you, trying to find a new normal after a traumatizing experience." Connor hummed slightly, acknowledging the detective's words. "Try writing to her about your day, your life. Leaving out all the err- blood and dead bodies that is. Maybe phrase it more like you're 'a superhero who brings bad guys to justice and definitely doesn't fire any guns at em' or some bullshit like that." He chuckled quietly and Connor gave a small grin back. "Kids like dogs, right? Give her a picture of Sumo, tell her about what he does."

"Sleep?" Connor asked, "Act as a living tripping hazard?" Hank laughed as the dog trotted over only to flop down at his owner's feet, hearing his own name mentioned. He rubbed his ears and ran his hand down the dog's back for a moment.

"Yeah, sure. I'm sure the kid would eat that up. Isn't that right Sumo?" He cooed, his voice jumping an octave or so as he scratched the dog's head. "Are you a big lazy motherfucker? Do you like to sleep in the hallway and trip me in the middle of the night when I need to take a piss?" Sumo gave a tiny, low 'woof' as Hank talked. "Good dog. Yes, you do."

Connor smiled lightly as he went to set the empty envelope on the nightstand when a slight rattling noise caught his attention. He reached his hand in and felt around until his fingers grasped something small and made of rope. Pulling it out, he found a black survival bracelet, supposedly homemade by the girl. Fittingly enough, he found that the middle of the bracelet was set with an American quarter with a hole drilled in the middle. Smiling, Connor fastened the bracelet to his wrist then held it out to admire it. Hank looked up from coddling Sumo and stared at Connor in amusement, taking in his awed facial expressions.

"Cute." Hank joked, slapping his partner lightly on the back, Connor jerking forward slightly at the force. "You think she's gonna ask you to the prom?" His voice had a mocking tone to it. Connor paused, gazing to the side as his L.E.D. cycled yellow, trying to understand what Hank meant.

"What? No I...don't believe so, Lieutenant." He hesitated, a puzzled look on his face.

"It's- ah...never-fucking-mind it." He waved his hand, though his expression softened as he eyed the bracelet and Connor's strange looks as he began to inspect it again. Kid probably made it herself and was pretty fucking excited to send it to him.

"Maybe you should write her back, Connor." He suggested, "It'd give you something to do and give me a chance to catch the end of his game." He paused again, "Plus...maybe it'd do you good to have a pen pal. I imagine little Emma would like to hear at least that you're still alive and kicking."

"A pen pal…" Connor said quietly before nodding decisively. "Yes, I think I would like to attempt that."

"Great." Hank replied, his voice already beginning to grow weary. "I've got some stationary and shit in one of the drawers under my closet. Find some flowery or colorful crap if I've got it. Kids love it. Maybe scribble some hearts and dragons and puppies in the margins."

He only sounded like he was half-joking. Connor could imagine Hank had done this kind of thing before. He smiled slightly at the thought of the hard boiled police detective trying to figure out how to draw a dragon in an attempt to please some awestruck little kid.

After searching through the unkempt stack of blank papers in Hank's room, Connor settled on a pale blue piece of stationary with vines and small cherry blossoms lining the edges. He brought his supplies to the table to work. Though he frowned when he took in the sight of it.

Overturned beer bottles, empty pizza boxes and fast food wrappers cluttered most of the space, the other half of it covered in papers and handwritten notes. It almost looked like Hank had slept here recently.

Connor made it a priority to tidy up the place a bit before using it, tossing a majority of the mess into the garbage. He picked up the mess of papers and notes to sort through before throwing any of them away. He looked over at Hank to ask about them, but found that the detective had already dozed off into what Connor assumed would be a long and deep rest. He turned back to the papers himself, deciding to leave his friend alone, and pulled up a chair at the table.

Hank had collected a series of missing persons reports and all the witness statements of people who were believed to have come in contact with them. Connor assumed these must have been for work, though he'd never really seen Hank bring his work home with him, nor did they ever specialize in missing persons cases. However, as the deviant reviewed the cases, he found they all met similar criteria: All androids, male, with intact L.E.D's, thin builds, dark hair and eyes, and all had been reported missing in the last few months.

Connor's L.E.D. cycled yellow, turning to the detective's extensive set of notes. Listed were locations, dates, quotes from the eyewitness reports as well as a few personal comments from Hank. Some of the locations listed were even outside of the DPD's jurisdiction.

This couldn't be for work. Connor thought. He turned his attention back to the missing deviants, shuffling through the remainder of them when one near the back made him hesitate for a moment.

His own face stared back at him in the picture, his description, model number, his name, and the date Hank had been admitted to the hospital listed under, last seen. His L.E.D. continued to cycle yellow, over and over again as he read.

Reported by Hank Anderson, the report read.

Hank had reported him missing.

The reports and poorly handwritten notes suddenly made sense.

Hank had spent the past few months looking for him. Desperately it seemed, from the half thought out, baseless theories and disconnected pieces of evidence. It was something that could never hold up in a real investigation. Connor simply stared back at his own report before turning his gaze back to Hank, who now had company, as Sumo had made himself at home on the couch, resting his head against Hank's legs.

How many sleepless, hopeless, anxiety-ridden nights had Connor caused the old man during his disappearance?

No wonder Hank had been so determined to stay up and watch Connor the second he got home, despite being at least two days sleep deprived.

He had objected at the hospital when the doctor suggested Hank might not wake up, though in his mind, he had already accepted those words as truth. He never thought he'd have to worry about the stubborn old grump coming after him when he left.

I never thought of androids having people who would miss them.

He played his own words back in his head. No...he'd never thought of himself having someone who would miss him.

"I'm so sorry, Hank…" he muttered somberly, placing a hand to his head as he imagined the nights Hank must have spent here, pouring over hundreds of cases that wouldn't get him anywhere close to Connor. He understood now why Hank had accepted Gavin's help when he offered.

He looked suddenly to the side at a white, glossy paper that had been thrown to the side when Connor gathered the papers together. Picking it up and turning it over, he found a picture from a few months back, shortly after the revolution. Hank stood to the left in the photo, his hand on Connor's shoulder, who stood smiling beside him and Sumo parked in between them, panting happily. He smiled sadly at the image, chuckling a bit when he remembered how difficult it had been to get Sumo to sit still for the photo when the dog had wanted to roll over and have his belly rubbed.

An idea popped into Connor's head and he looked up from the photo.

He took a moment to order something cybernetically to be shipped tomorrow.

He then stood up and took the photo with him to the printer, making sure it was stocked with photo paper. He made a quick copy of the photo and made his way back to the kitchen table, carefully sliding Hank's documents to the other side.

Centering the pale blue stationary in front of him, Connor began to write:

Dear Emma,

Hello. It's Connor. I've been reading your letters and apologize for not getting back to you sooner. I've been fighting crime and stopping bad guys with my partner, Hank. He is a superhero and I work as his sidekick but you have to promise not to tell anyone. It is an incredibly confidential secret and we must keep our true identities protected.

Connor glanced at Hank who was lying oh-so-gracefully on the living room couch, his mouth wide open and snoring softly.

I received your bracelet in the mail today. Did you make it yourself? It is very nice. I love it and will keep it with me every day. I am not very good at making things but perhaps you could teach me someday. I would certainly like to try.

I am very glad that you are enjoying your new school and city. I hope you have made lots of new friends. I know change can be very difficult. I have experienced a lot of changes in my life since we met. Although I believe they have been good changes. I hope your changes have been good as well.

He paused for a moment, staring at the picture of Hank, Sumo, and himself.

I see that your birthday is coming up. September 2nd, correct? Well, I'm afraid I do not have a proper birthday present but I have included a picture of my partner Hank and I. My dog Sumo is also there. I like dogs. Do you? Sumo is a very lazy dog and likes to sleep in the hallway which is somewhat dangerous. You should not sleep in hallways. I'm sure he would love to meet you someday. He is very big and looks scary but he is most certainly a good dog.

He stopped writing for a moment, his pen leaving a small spot of ink where he had paused. Emma's pressing questions about Daniel's well being stood out in his mind. Should he ignore it? He couldn't really consider telling a young girl that her old friend was dead and his remains were hanging up on display in a police evidence locker. He thought for a moment, wishing he could ask Hank for advice.

After taking a moment to decide before he continued his letter.

The last time I saw Daniel, he was helping me with a very important and secret mission. He is not here anymore and I do not think either of us will see him again. But I do know Daniel loved you very much and considered you his best friend. I know when you last saw Daniel he did not act like himself and did very bad things to you and your family. He should never have harmed anyone and I know Daniel had some very bad things happen to him.

He stopped again to look at Hank.

But sometimes we hurt the people we love and do horrible things when we're scared or angry. I do not think that means he did not love you. I know that you miss him very much and I would like to think that he misses you too.

I look forward to the next time you write to me, Emma and I will do my best to answer quickly when Hank and I aren't stopping the bad guys.

Sincerely, Connor.

He read over his letter a few more times, making sure he was satisfied with it before slipping it into the envelope, alongside the picture. He was ready to shut it when he hesitated, remembering one more thing he wanted to do.

Taking a second envelope and a more plain piece of paper, Connor addressed his second, shorter letter, to Caroline Phillips.

Mrs. Philips,

When you wrote to me back in January, I wasn't sure what to make of the things you said. You told me that you'd never considered androids to be capable of complex work and especially not complex feelings until you met me. At the time, I may not have believed you regarding the latter. But I realize now you may have been right. Your daughter's case may have been what helped me realize that I too am capable of more than simple jobs and obeying orders.

I hope you know the events that took place that night were not your fault, nor Mr. Phillips.

Thank you for writing to me, and for allowing your daughter to write to me as well. I will continue to write back as long as you approve.

Your daughter seems to be a very special child.

Sincerely, Connor.

Finishing his letters, Connor sealed and stamped his envelopes with some "Saint Bernard" themed stamps Hank had kept in his drawer and went out through the front door to mail them.

The sun was beginning to set when Connor stepped outside and he felt the cool air brush against him as the summer months slowly began their transition to autumn. He'd never truly looked at the view and regarded it like he did then. It was strangely surreal for a moment.

When Connor returned inside, he busied himself the rest of the night by taking care of Sumo and tidying up around Hank's house. The lieutenant had never been much of a housekeeper and that was increasingly more noticeable in the months that Connor had been gone. He even attempted to cook breakfast with what little Hank had in his kitchen to pass the last few hours.

He had already begun his reports for the DPD's HR office about his prerequisites for reinstatement by the time the sun rose again. It would take time before he could work again since his badge was currently wrapped in several hundred layers of red tape. But he wanted to go back. He couldn't sit around in Hank's living room feeling sorry for himself for the rest of his life.

A few hours after sunrise, Connor received a notification that his order from yesterday had arrived. He brought it inside, alongside the photo that Hank had left on the kitchen table. After a minute or two, Connor had finished his idea from the night before.

Making his way back to the living room, Connor noticed that Hank was still fast asleep. It was past noon at the time but the android decided he would let Hank rest until he woke up naturally.

He reached the mantle above the electric fireplace and placed the newly framed photo of the three of them in the center. He smiled warmly at the photo before sitting down in a recliner, opposite of where Hank slept.

Finding a sense of normalcy again, or perhaps a new normal would certainly be a challenge in the next few weeks. But Connor couldn't help but feel grateful for this second chance.