The whisky sat sour in his stomach. Hank swirled the liquid remaining in the glass, staring at it as though it could answer all his problems. He downed the rest of it in one swig.
It didn't help.
It was only his second drink. He had been nursing them for close to an hour, somehow unable to bring himself to drink until blackout. He blamed Connor for that.
Connor. Why was the kid so damn hard to stay mad at? The knot in his stomach tightened uncomfortably and he didn't need to guess at why. He felt bad for yelling at him like that.
He had every right to be angry, he knew that. In just a few seconds, they had lost a fuckton of progress. Delicate material that had been excruciatingly hard to come by had been wiped out. They were practically back to square one all because of the kid's fuckup.
But Connor was fragile right now.
The kid wouldn't admit it, but Hank knew it to be true. He could see it in the subtle hesitance of his actions, or the moment of pause before he would speak. He was unsure of himself. Unsure of his place in the world. Hank had made it a personal goal to be a safe haven for him, someone he wouldn't need to watch himself around.
And Hank had lost his temper.
He just knew that blank look Connor had on his face was going to haunt him for the rest of his life. He'd looked shaken. Horrified. Betrayed.
And Hank had left him there.
He sighed. He would apologize when he got home. Connor would forgive him, right? He'd forgiven him pointing a damn gun at his head, he would get over this. They'd talk. They'd air out what happened. It'd probably get uncomfortably mushy, but it would all work out in the end. They'd figure out what went wrong.
A cold chill ran down Hank's spine. What went wrong. He hadn't even stopped to consider that something might be wrong. What if there was a problem with Connor? What if his brain had shorted out or something?
"Fuck," he said under his breath. He knew the kid better than anyone. There was no way in hell he would have made a mistake like that without a good reason. He should've stopped to hear him out rather than storming off.
He needed to get home.
Without a word, Hank tossed some cash on the counter to pay his tab and headed out. The upside of spending so many years as an alcoholic was that he knew how much he could handle. Two drinks over the course of the hour wasn't enough to put him over the legal limit or impair his driving.
It only took him fifteen minutes to get home. The engine was barely off before he was unbuckling and out of the car. He resisted the urge to call for Connor as he half ran to the house.
The front door was unlocked, a clear sign that the android had been home, but there was no sight of him. His coat wasn't on the hook. There was a very familiar key sitting on the table.
"Connor?" Hank had a bad feeling.
Sumo's whines drew his attention. He turned to look at the dog, scratching frantically at the back door, barking and crying. He'd never seen him like that before, impossibly desperate to get outside.
"Sumo? Hey, what's the matter boy?" He walked over, trying to calm the distressed animal. "Hey, what is it?" Something clearly had him riled up. Hank looked out the window.
A figure was standing out in the yard, features only just defined by the light from the streetlights. His back was to the house, but the cycling blue LED was still visible. Hank relaxed, breathing a sigh of relief that he had located Connor.
He had barely started to question what the android was doing in the backyard before Connor raised his hand, pressing the barrel of the gun Hank only now noticed under his chin.
No. Hell no.
It felt as though time stopped. Hank threw the door open hard enough for it to slam against the wall. Launching himself into the yard towards Connor, he grabbed at the android's hand and an earsplitting bang echoed through the night.
The force from Hank grabbing at the gun sent both human and android tumbling to the snowy ground in a heap. Hank rolled over into a sitting position, immediately turning to focus on Connor. He was sitting up too, LED flashing yellow in shock, the gun on the ground at his side, melting the snow around it.
Hank wasted no time grabbing for him. He gripped his shoulder with one hand, cupping his face with the other. "Are you ok?" he demanded to know. "Were you hit? Are you hurt?"
Connor blinked a couple of times, registering the man's questions. "I- No, I'm ok," he said after a moment.
Hank looked him up and down, eyes darting everywhere he could see searching for a trace of blue blood, a trace that Connor was lying. He only calmed marginally when he came to the conclusion he was unharmed, fear and adrenaline manifesting as anger. "What the hell were you thinking!" He shouted.
"I-" Connor's LED flashed red at the sound of Hank yelling.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" He demanded, not waiting for Connor to respond. "What, you have a bad day so you decide to put a bullet in your head? What the fuck, Connor!"
"No, I… That's not-" Connor stammered out, but Hank wasn't having any of it.
"After everything we went through to get you fixed, you just planned on throwing that all away? What, do you think nobody would miss you? That nobody would give a fuck?"
"No," Connor insisted, "I knew, I just…"
Hank forced him to look him in the eyes, the grip on his shoulder would have been painful had he been human. His voice dropped in volume, but maintained its intensity. "I've got news for you, asshole, we care. We care a whole damn lot. I'm not losing you." He gave his shoulder a shake, making damn sure the android was paying attention. "I guarantee you this, Connor. You put a fucking bullet in your head, the next one is going in mine."
"Hank, no!" Connor cried in dismay at the suggestion.
"No, hell no, there's no 'Hank, no'," he said shaking his head. "You don't get to 'Hank, no' me, not after this." He sighed struggling to reign in his emotions. He took a calming breath, loosening his grip on his shoulder and moving his other hand to the back of his head to pull Connor towards him.
Connor remained silent, but accepted the hug eagerly. Hank could feel him shaking.
"There are better ways to handle your problems," he told him, voice shaking slightly. How bad of an influence had he been on Connor if he didn't already know that? He ran his hand up and down his back, not fully sure if it was to comfort Connor, or himself.
A wet nose and a small whimper interrupted the two, trying to nudge it's way into the hug. Hank leaned back, letting the St. Bernard through to affectionately lick Connor's face. Hank had left the back door wide open and Sumo had gotten out. He must have been scared by the gunshot initially, but had gotten over his fear to ensure his owners were ok.
"See that," Hank said. "If you weren't here, who would spoil Sumo?"
Connor managed to get the large dog off of him, only barely. He pet him until he laid across the ground, head resting on the android's lap. "I knew I would be missed, Hank," he said, finally able to string a proper sentence together without interruption. "It is just… complicated."
"Complicated?" Hank questioned. "It's not complicated, kid." He reached over, running his hand through Sumo's fur himself. "Look, Connor. I don't care how mad I am. I don't care what's going on. If your stress levels get this high, you come to me, ok? I never want you to self-destruct."
Connor's hand stilled in Sumo's fur for a moment. "My stress levels are fine," he admitted.
Hank frowned, looking up at the android who was pointedly not meeting his gaze. "The hell do you mean by that? You had a gun to your head."
He scratched Sumo behind the ears, still not looking at him. "I mean, that it was not caused by excessive stress. It was a conscious decision based on the best probable outcome."
Hank wanted to vomit. "The best probable… what are you saying? Don't tell me… you don't want to die..."
"No, I don't. I don't want to die," Connor quickly assured him. "But it is an unfortunate necessity."
"An unfortunate necessity?" Hank said aghast. "Working with Gavin is an unfortunate necessity. This is… this is..." He couldn't even find the words.
He took a steadying breath. He had to approach this calmly. He knew Connor would clam up if he got too angry. "Connor," he shifted so he could put his hand back on his shoulder. The android glanced up briefly at the contact before looking away again. "Connor, what could possibly make you think this is necessary?"
Connor's hand ran through Sumo's fur mechanically. He stared downward, looking at nothing. "I detailed everything of importance in the email I sent to you," he said softly.
Hank bit down on his tongue, desperately trying to not let his concern and frustration manifest as rage. "There is no way in hell I'm reading your fucking suicide note, Connor." His voice sounded strained even to his ears.
He heard an artificial breath catch in Connor's throat, but he remained silent.
"You need to talk to me, kid," Hank insisted. "I need to know what's going on with you." He tried and failed to catch Connor's eye. "I think I've been pretty damn understanding all things considered. I've tried being patient. I've tried giving you time, giving you space. I'm done with that bullshit if this is where it gets us."
He waited for a moment, watching as the LED blinked between red and yellow. Connor finally looked up at him. His soft, brown eyes seemed to search him. What he was looking for, Hank couldn't begin to guess.
Hank gave his shoulder an encouraging squeeze. "What's wrong, Connor?"
For a long moment, Hank was sure Connor wasn't going to speak. He glanced away again, his eyes heavy with sadness and fear. "Amanda," he said at last.
Hank frowned. "Who the fuck is Amanda?"
"My handler," Connor clarified. "From CyberLife. I reported to her. She was responsible for ensuring I didn't deviate."
"Ok," Hank did not like where this was going. Even the suggestion of a handler left a bad taste in his mouth. He knew the company was fucked up, but keeping a leash on Connor like that? He kept finding new ways to hate that damn place. "What does she have to do with this?" He asked.
He looked back at Hank, finally seeming able to meet his eyes. "She isn't happy that we are looking into CyberLife. I believe she wants me to sabotage the investigation."
Hank bit back the comment on his tongue about how he had already started that. Reminding the kid about what happened earlier wouldn't help. "Well she can suck it," he said instead. "You aren't CyberLife's property anymore. She can't control you."
Connor's eyes seemed to darken, he looked down again. "Yes. She can."
A cold chill ran down Hank's spine that had nothing to do with the snow or frigid weather. The certainty in Connor's voice scared him. "No, she can't," he insisted anyway. "You're deviant, Connor. You're a person. You don't need to do anything they say."
"Amanda is an A.I." Connor explained quietly. "She is in my head, I can't escape her." There were tears in his eyes when he looked back up at Hank. "She can take control of my program at any time."
Hank could feel his face twisting into a horrified scowl. "You've gotta be shitting me."
Connor shook his head solemnly. "I wish I was. Amanda took control of me once before, the night of the revolution. She tried to make me assassinate Markus from the crowd. I only just managed to break free in time."
"Fuck," he breathed out. "But you got control back. You didn't kill the guy."
"That is correct," Connor confirmed. "Amanda was originally one of Elijah Kamski's programs. He left a way out, an emergency exit I was able to utilize. I thought once I used it, I would be free of Amanda permanently." A tear escaped, rolling down his cheek and landing in Sumo's fur. "I was wrong."
Hank shifted where he sat once again, this time pushing past the St. Bernard to be able to hug the crying android properly. He pulled Connor's head to his shoulder, cradling the back of his neck as more tears fell. He absently uttered soft shushing noises, rubbing his back in an attempt to sooth him.
"I can't let her control me, Hank," Connor pleaded. His voice was muffled from being pressed into Hank's coat. "I can't let CyberLife use me. I almost didn't escape this time. She's done something to the emergency exit, corrupted the code. It may not work at all if she takes over again."
His heart stuttered at the implications of what that could mean. Corrupted code didn't sound at all like a good thing. "What do you mean by 'this time', are you talking about today? At the precinct?" He had to ask. He had to know. "Was that Amanda? She made you do that?"
"Yes."
God, he hated that fucking company. He wanted to rip that place apart brick by goddamn brick. Why couldn't they just leave Connor alone? "We're gonna figure this out," he told him, holding him a little tighter. "We're gonna figure this out and it's not gonna involve a gun."
"Hank..." Connor started, but he wasn't having it.
"No. There is no way in hell I'm letting you die." Hank pulled back just enough to look Connor in the eye, hoping to impress upon him how serious he was. "CyberLife has fucked you over too much as it is. I'm not letting them take your life on top of everything else. We'll figure this out."
"There's nothing to figure out." Connor's voice was resigned, so hopeless. It broke Hank's heart.
"Bull-fuckin-shit," Hank retorted. "We'll get that bitch out of your head. We'll stop her from controlling you." He sent him a smile, hoping it would give him a measure of reassurance. "You aren't doing this alone, kid. You've got me. You've got Robo-Jesus and the Jericrew." Hank wiped a stray tear from Connor's cheek. "You have backup, Connor, and we aren't giving up on you."
"I appreciate that, Hank," Connor told him earnestly. "But it's too dangerous. I've wasted too much time as it is. Amanda can resume control at any moment."
"And do what?" Hank argued. "She's got no reason to take you right now, there's nothing CyberLife could get out of it."
Connor leaned his head forward, burying his face in Hank's shoulder again. "She'll make me kill you." It came out as a sob, broken and heart wrenching. He had never seen Connor quite like this before.
"Why the hell would she do that?" He questioned.
He could feel Connor shaking. "To punish me," he admitted. "For disobeying."
"Fucking hell," Hank pulled him closer. Sumo whined that he wasn't getting the pets he deserved, but Hank ignored him. Connor was what was important now.
"She warned me," Connor went on. "I thought they were just nightmares. She warned me."
"Wait," Hank frowned, leaning back so he could see Connor's face again. "That's what your nightmares are about?"
Connor nodded in confirmation and Hank felt his heart sink. No wonder the kid was reluctant to talk about it. How the hell do you tell someone that you dream about some psycho making you kill them? It made a lot more sense now why he had a habit of clinging to him after having one. "Aw, hell, kid," he breathed.
"Do you understand then?" Connor asked, pulling back. "I'm dangerous."
"I get that this is fucked up," Hank admitted, "But there's no way in hell I'm letting you kill yourself."
"But Hank-"
"No," he cut him off. "Not happening. Look, we'll lock you up if we have to, put you somewhere you can't hurt anyone if you lose control, but I'm not letting you die." He let his hand rest on Connor's head, gently brushing his unusually tousled hair from his face. "Please, Connor, I can't lose another kid."
Connor's eyes widened and Hank knew he understood the implication of what he was saying. He wanted him to understand, wanted him to know how much he cared.
"Ok," Connor agreed after a moment. "We can try to find another way. But Hank," his expression was intense and serious. "You cannot trust me until this is over. Please. If something goes wrong…" He took a deep breath, closing his eyes briefly as though he needed to steady himself. Hank knew he was still scared even if the crying had stopped. "If something goes wrong, please, don't let me hurt anyone. Especially not you."
"I guess that's reasonable," Hank told him gently. He could understand why the kid was so scared. He knew he would be if their positions were switched.
Sumo barked and both men looked at the dog. His tail wagged, making an arch in the snow and he cocked his head in a questioning manner.
"Yeah, you're right Sumo," Hank addressed the dog. "We should go inside. I'm freezing my ass off out here."
Connor smiled at him as he helped him up and the two ushered the St. Bernard into the house. Hank only paused to retrieve the now empty gun. The warmer air felt good against his cold skin. It occurred to Hank that he had been so worried about Connor, he hadn't realized just how chilled he was. His clothes were soaked to hell. Connor's were too at this point.
"Hank," he heard Connor say timidly from behind him. He turned to look at the android. "I really didn't want to die," he assured him.
"I know, kid," he gave him a reassuring smile. It was over and done, he just wanted to forget about the whole mess. "Let's just let the whole fucking thing go. I'm gonna go get changed. I'll bring you something to change into too." He didn't wait for Connor to respond, but still heard him mutter a soft thank you.
Hank pulled out his phone as he made his way to his room. Scrolling through his contacts, he found Markus's number. He'd told him to call if there was a problem with Connor and he figured this applied. He hit the dial button as he pulled out a new set of clothes.
It only rang once before Markus answered. "Lieutenant Anderson. Is everything alright?"
"Not exactly," he told the deviant leader as he tugged off his wet pants, replacing them with dry ones. "It's Connor. There's something wrong with him."
"What's wrong?" He sounded worried, not that Hank could blame him. "Did another weld come loose?"
Hank sighed. If only that was the problem. "No, that's all fine as far as I know," He heard Connor moving around in the other room and turned back to his closet to find something for the android to wear. He really needed to get him some clothes of his own. "It's something in his head," he went on. "Something about a-"
He heard something shatter and pain blossomed from the back of his skull. His vision went dark. Hank was unconscious before he hit the floor.