In hindsight, that had been an incredibly stupid thing to do. Hank was sure to scold him later, and it would be completely valid. He hadn't even managed to keep track of the criminal. His tiny body wasn't equipped for this sort of thing, and he had been thrown from the vehicle on a particularly violent turn. All in all, it was a grave miscalculation.

At least he had memorized the license plate and the driver's description, so it wasn't a total loss.

Connor sat up from where he had landed on the street and cradled his arm. There were no errors in his vision, the lack of diagnostic software proving inconvenient, but there was enough pain to tell him that there was something wrong with it. There was no thirium leakage, so it was likely a break of some kind. He would need to visit a technician.

Not ideal.

He glanced at his surroundings and frowned. This was not a part of Detroit he was familiar with, and he had not paid attention as the car was speeding around. With his GPS nonfunctional in this body, he was officially lost.

Definitely not ideal.

Connor's first instinct was to find Hank. Every childlike tendency in his tiny body screamed that if he could just get back to Hank he would make everything better. His arm wouldn't hurt, he wouldn't be scared, everything would be ok.

But Hank wasn't here. He was back who knows how many streets and turns, assisting the victim. Connor was on his own for now.

Actively shoving down his growing panic, he chose instead to focus on practical steps to rectify his current situation. He had to think rationally. Connor stood up, careful not to agitate his damaged arm as he climbed out of the gutter, and absently noted that the street was practically deserted. There was a comfort in knowing that nobody had seen his tumble.

"Ok," he whispered to himself. "I'm ok."

There were several small shops around, he noted. While the street wasn't busy, it wasn't a bad area either. More of a hidden gem, hole in the wall, type of district.

Connor made his way to the nearest of the shops, the painted sign above the door named it The Paper Crane. A little bell jingled as he entered. It was a bookshop, much to Connor's surprise. Physical books were not as heavily used as digital ones, paper being harder to come by. Connor found he preferred them though. Hank had several, and reading had become one of his favorite pastimes.

"Oh, hello. Where did you come from?"

Connor turned to see who had spoken, and found a man moving around one of the shelves to greet him. He was middle aged, with brown hair and a kind face. The nametag pinned to his shirt read Shaun.

"Hello," Connor responded. "My name is Connor. I was hoping you might have a phone I can use?"

"Um, yeah, of course," Shaun said. He sounded a bit confused, but Connor chose not to comment. He likely didn't get many unattended children wandering into his shop. He led Connor over to the checkout desk where the phone was hanging on the wall. "Where are your parents? Are you lost?" He asked.

"I suppose that is an accurate way to describe my situation," he answered, choosing to ignore the first question. "I was unfortunately separated from the Lieutenant. He shouldn't be far, but calling him would probably be the most efficient."

"The… Lieutenant?" Shaun asked. He pulled the cordless phone from its cradle and glanced down at Connor as though hoping for clarification.

Connor nodded, not really feeling like giving a full explanation, but reasoning that the man was likely to keep asking questions. "That's right. He's my partner at the DPD."

If anything, that seemed to confuse Shaun more. "Your… Partner?"

"Yes," he said, reaching up for the offered phone. He didn't elaborate further before dialing Hank's number. Connor pressed the receiver to his ear and waited as it rang.

And rang.

And rang.

The voicemail kicked in and it was then that Connor remembered Hank complaining that he forgot his phone at the house this morning. "Shit," he swore, hanging up without leaving a message.

"Is everything ok?" Shaun asked, taking the phone back. His voice was a bit timid, likely unused to hearing a six-year-old swear.

Connor rubbed at his injured arm, getting more and more frustrated by the situation. "Yes, I just forgot that he doesn't have his phone," he admitted. "I should just call the precinct, or better yet Captain Fowler. They can probably radio him."

"Here, let me do that," he said. His expression had turned concerned, evidently picking up on his injury. He gestured to the chair by the desk. "Why don't you sit down. It looks like you've had quite a day."

It had been quite a day already, Connor would admit that, so he obliged. Shaun helped him up into the seat then he gave him the number to reach Captain Fowler. With this body's inability to tap into the phone, he was only able to hear half of the conversation.

"Um yes, hello," he said to who Connor assumed to be the Captain. "My name is Shaun Mars. I, well, I have a kid here that says he is supposed to be with one of your lieutenants?"

He paused for a moment, listening to whatever was said on the other end. "Yes, that's him. He's… wait, seriously?" Several confused glances in his direction later told him that Fowler was being more forthcoming with information than he had been. Connor avoided the gaze, choosing instead to appear distracted by the books piled on the desk. "Yeah, I'd be worried too… Alright. Well, he's welcome to stay here for now… Yes, that's fine. Alright."

Shaun rattled off the bookstore's address before hanging up the phone and turning his full attention back to Connor. "Well, he says he was already in contact with your dad, he should be here soon."

Connor stifled a frown. Even if his relationship with the Lieutenant was common knowledge, he had expected at least Captain Fowler to keep things professional. But, it would be more hassle than it was worth to issue a correction. "That's good," he said instead.

"So, you're actually a detective?" He asked.

Evidently he intended to make conversation while they wanted for Hank to arrive. With nothing better to do, he figured there was no harm in it. "Yes, that's correct."

"I would have some serious doubts about the criminal justice system if he hadn't mentioned that you're an android," Shaun chuckled. He sat himself on the desk, nearly toppling a small stack of books in the process.

"I would have thought it was obvious," Connor shrugged, though he knew most people probably wouldn't be able to tell just by looking at him.

Shaun laughed. "You're the detective here, not me," he argued. "I just thought you were a really weird kid."

Connor couldn't resist a coy smile. "I believe the Lieutenant would argue that the two are not mutually exclusive."

"Ha, sounds like something my ex would say." He shook his head slightly, but there was still the ghost of a smile on his face.

Connor knew enough about relationships to know that an ex was usually not a pleasant topic of conversation. "I'm sorry," he apologized.

"Oh, no, don't be," Shaun insisted. "Sorry, that probably sounded bad. I didn't mean it as a bad thing, I promise."

"It's atypical to refer to an ex in a positive sense, isn't it?" He asked.

Shaun shrugged, choosing to look at the far wall instead of him. "Maybe," he admitted. "But I only really think about him positively. When we broke up… well, it was about as amiable as you could get."

"Why did you break up?" Connor's curiosity was piqued.

He bit down on his lip for a moment as though considering what he was going to say. "Our lives went in different directions," was what he settled on. "Honestly, I've thought about contacting him but, well, I heard he got married."

"Do you still love him?" He pressed. He couldn't even imagine how bad that would be. He got jealous enough when Sumo chose Hank to snuggle instead of him.

"I…" Shaun paused then looked back at him with an amused smirk. "I really don't think I should be talking about this with a practical stranger," he said.

"Sorry," Connor said with a sheepish smile. "I've been told that I tend to be a bit nosy."

"I'm sure that comes in handy as a detective," he joked. "Don't worry about it. Nothing wrong with being easy to talk to."

"It does make interrogations easier."

Shaun's smile seemed to indicate that he really didn't hold anything against Connor for pressing into his personal life, for which he was grateful. "So, onto a more appropriate topic for people getting to know each other, do you read?" Shaun asked.

Connor couldn't help but light up at that. "I do!" He announced enthusiastically.

His smile widened and he picked up one of the books from his desk, running a finger over the spine affectionately. "I thought you might. Surprisingly, most of my customers are androids."

"I don't think that's very surprising," Connor mused. He reached out to touch one of the books himself. It was a well-worn paperback copy of and then there were none. The spine was cracked, most likely from overreading rather than neglect and various bookmarks stuck out from between the pages. "Physical books are more real," he went on, feeling the need to explain. "With digital, we can just download it right to our minds. We get the story, but it's over in an instant. A physical book forces us to slow down, actually read it and enjoy the journey."

"I like that," Shaun said. "I never thought about it that way before, but you're right, it makes sense."

Connor opened his mouth, ready to reply, but was interrupted by the bell on the door jingling harshly as the door swung open in haste. The panic in Hank's features was clear even at this distance. "Connor?" He called immediately.

"I'm over here, Lieutenant," he announced, waving his hand to draw the man's attention to the desk. Beside him, Shaun drew in a surprised gasp and went rigid.

Hank rushed forward, relief flooding him as soon as he caught sight of Connor, but he stopped short, freezing in place the moment he laid eyes on Shaun.

A silent tension filled the room.

"Hank?" Shaun asked quietly, the silence shattering uncomfortably.

The Lieutenant blinked as though it were necessary to register his name. "Shaun," he said by way of response. Not a question, but a statement leaving Connor to wonder how the two of them were acquainted. "I… didn't know you were back in Detroit."

"Yeah… I, uh. I moved back a couple years ago," Shaun answered. He seemed as guarded as Hank.

Hank nodded his head once, before glancing around like it was the first time he was noticing his surroundings. "The Paper Crane, huh?" He mused. "Really leaned into the skid there."

Shaun shrugged and offered what sounded like a nervous chuckle. "Well, when life gives you trauma…"

Connor wanted to know more about that, but he no longer seemed to be part of this conversation.

"Right. Fair enough, I guess," Hank said, glancing away, apparently not wanting to look at Shaun anymore. It almost looked as though it were painful to do so. He turned his attention back to Connor, expression hardening. "What the fuck do you think you were doing?"

That was fair, Connor reasoned, though he still felt the need to justify his actions. "I was attempting to catch a suspect," he said simply.

Hank let out a loud sigh. Connor guessed that he had anticipated that answer. "Just… fucking hell, kid. Do you want to give me a heart attack?" It was apparently a rhetorical question as he didn't give him a chance to answer before continuing. "That shit would be risky as hell if you weren't a six-year-old! I thought we agreed you'd be more careful. Are you ok?"

Connor was about to answer that he was fine, no need to worry him about the slight fracture in his arm just yet, but Shaun spoke up before he could. "I think he hurt his arm," he told him. He couldn't help but be surprised that the man had picked up on that. "His right one, he's been favoring the left."

"It's not that bad," Connor insisted before Hank could get worked up about it. "Just a minor fracture. Easily repaired."

Hank did not seem to believe him, but looked back at Shaun finally. "Thanks for finding him," he said.

Shaun shrugged, but Connor could see that there was still tension in his stance. ""He found me, really," he replied. "I'm just glad I could help."

"Right, yeah," Hank said lamely. He gestured for Connor to go to him, apparently unwilling to get any closer to Shaun. "Thanks anyway. Come on, kid, let's get that arm looked at."

Connor got up as summoned, rounding the desk with only one final look at Shaun Mars. He and Hank were staring at each other so intently, had they been androids, he would have had no doubt that they were having a cybernetic conversation. But neither of them spoke. It was a confounding exchange and one he was determined to decipher.

Hank took his good hand as they left, pace quicker than was comfortable for Connor's small legs. Only a generic farewell was uttered by the two of them before the door jingled closed behind them.