When Hank was depressed, he drank. When he was pissed, he drank. When he was confused, worried, and replaying the image of Connor on the ground covered in bullet holes…

Well, the only reasonable thing to do was drink his goddamn weight in whiskey.

A few hours had passed, who the hell knows how many, since he'd watched Connor walk away in the goddamn snow. It wasn't until he was left staring at the android's footprints that Hank had even realized there was so much snow. But instead of staring at them all night he'd forced himself to go inside. And feed Sumo. And drink.

But all he had to do was look out his front window to see those footprints still there. He wished it would snow. To fill them.

Though it quickly became too dark to see the footprints, he kept looking out the window as he drank. He could imagine them.

At one point he threw an empty bottle at the window and broke the damn thing. He cursed at the top of his lungs and Sumo decided to take a nap under the table. He was long used to antics like these, poor guy. He opened his eyes occasionally and looked up at Hank as if to say "You done yet?"

But he wasn't done yet. The broken window let all the cold air in and he wondered if Connor could feel it while he walked to the station. But an android doesn't get cold, right? His loafers did not look made for long treks in the snow though. Had he gotten snow in his shoes? Were they soaked and falling apart?

Hank went outside and stomped out the nearest footprints. As if he could erase Connor from his thoughts if he just got rid of enough of them. He felt more pissed off by the second and eventually decided Connor wasn't going to spend the entire night at the station.

Hank wouldn't let him.

He may have knocked off the side mirror to a police cruiser when he parked his car at the station. But he'd deal with that later. Right now he just needed to find Connor.

The place was never empty, but it was definitely quieter on the night shift. He tried not to draw attention to himself as he looked around.

He half expected to find Connor sitting at his desk, or the empty one next to it. But nope. And he wasn't with any of the other android's on stand by either.

Quickly frustrated, Hank went to the android at the front desk to ask after him.

"May I have Connor's last name?" the android said.

"He's an android."

"May I have its serial number, then?"

Shit.

"RK something," he muttered.

"Do you mean RK800-54, the prototype sent by CyberLife?"

"Ugh, yeah. Where the hell is he?"

"It left at 1:42 a.m."

"What?! Where did he go?"

"I don't know, Lieutenant."

"Was he alone? Did someone leave with him? Take him?"

"He was alone." The android smiled that polite smile Hank hated the most. "I'm sorry I could not be of more help."

oOo

When he crashed into a stop sign Hank knew it was time to stop driving. But he looked for Connor on foot. Just sort of walking around aimlessly, really. It was a fruitless search.

Nearly froze his nuts off for all the good it did.

Then a young beat cop eventually picked him up for disorderly conduct. Showing the kid his badge did no good, but at least it kept the handcuffs off.

As they drove to the station Hank realized the sun was up and had been for some time. Would Connor be at the station now, waiting on the slim chance Hank actually came in on time? Or would he continue to do who knows what until noon or later?

What if he never came back at all?

What if he had been killed again with no replacement?

Or what if he'd gone to CyberLife and politely asked to be dismantled and discontinued like the failed prototype he thought he was?

He managed to wait until he was out of the car before puking his guts out, at least.

oOo

"You haven't slept?" Connor said. "I'll go get you a coffee. Alright?"

Hank groaned.

"Actually, you should go home."

"No."

"Sleep is an important-"

"Where the hell did you go last night?"

His vision was blurry, but Hank managed to squint at Connor's LED. He was fixated on the little circle of light. And it blinked yellow at the question.

"You came looking for me between the hours of 1 and 3 a.m," Connor said. It was a statement. A fact. Delivered in a quiet monotone. Connor was a literal robot.

A robot with a yellow LED.

"Where were you?" Hank grabbed Connor's tie. Not to pull him forward or intimidate him, but just so he could have something to hold on to. As if the cloth could work like a leash.

"It's irrelevant to our case," Connor said.

"I don't care about the mother fucking case!" Hank felt like a child throwing a tantrum at the grocery store, but the shame wasn't enough to stop him. "Tell me where-"

"I apologize for… the inconvenience I seem to have caused," Connor said. "But I will not be giving you that information."

"Why not?!"

Red, red, red. "My decision making process is far too complex to explain. Just know that the choice has been made and will not change." Connor sighed and pulled his tie out of Hank's grasp. Red, red, yellow, red. He smoothed out the wrinkles and turned away.

"Where are you going now?!"

"To your house."

Throwing his hands up in the air, Hank stomped after him. "Oh, that figures. Now you want to go there. That makes perfect sense!"

"You're unfit to work in this state," Connor said. "And you've made it clear that… you don't trust me to… I'm not sure what. But you need me at your house in order to sleep. That's the conclusion I have drawn. Am I incorrect?"

Hank sputtered. "Th-that's not… I mean, it's not that I…"

"Then should I go lock myself into standby in the breakroom for eight hours and trust that you'll fall asleep out of pure boredom and exhaustion? Slumped against your desk or on the floor?"

Hank groaned.

"I saw that you came in with an officer," Connor said. "We need to borrow a car don't we? Or should we call a taxi?"

Again, Hank groaned.

"You're always so helpful, Hank."

The ride home was a blur and so was the bath Connor insisted on. "You've got vomit on your clothes and in your hair," he said. "If you're too tired I can assist you."

So Hank let him fill the tub, let him scrub shampoo into his hair and soap on his back, and before he knew it he was being tucked into bed at 10 a.m.

When Connor tried to leave the room Hank grabbed him. "Stay where I can see you."

"Until you fall asleep?"

"Permanently."

"Permanently?"

"You need to be here when I wake up."

"Bu-" Catching himself, Connor smiled. "Fine. But I will only let you sleep for four hours. Then we have to get to work."

"Ugh, what work?"

"We need to speak with Elijah Kamski."

"Says who?"

Now Connor looked adorably confused. "I thought we had previously discussed-"

But his LED was finally blue again.

"I'm just fuckin' with ya," Hank said. "Jus' sit down. Actually, lie down."

"That's not necessary."

"I don't care! Do what you're told."

It would be creepy to let him just stand there staring at him for four hours. "And close your eyes," Hank added.

"As you wish, Oh Petulant One," Connor said.

That startled a laugh out of him. "Is that sarcasm? Where'd you pick that up?"

Connor shrugged. "I downloaded it."

"Really?"

"No not really." Connor chuckled. "You do realize androids have the same capacity to learn as humans? Though not every android has a social algorithm as sophisticated as mine, we can all adopt a sense of humor."

"Guess I just never took the time to realize it." They were facing each other in the bed, Hank under the covers and Connor over them. And there was that little dimple. That fond smile he'd first seen directed at Sumo.

"Thought I told you to close your eyes," Hank said.

Connor did so without protest and now Hank was free to stare at him in earnest. Blue, blue, blue, yellow, blue. And that strand of hair across his forehead. Was his hairstyle designed to be ever so slightly messy? To look more human?

"Go to sleep, Hank."

"Yeah, yeah. Goodnight."

"Technically it's morning," Connor said. "But I suppose the meaning of the word still applies. A way of saying goodbye without leaving..."

"Uh, huh. Language is fascinating."

"I think it's humans that are fascinating."

Hank didn't have a response for that. So he let silence settle over them.

Then he was out like a light.