Connor was doing his best to focus on the positive things.

First of all, he had found his killer. He had openly admitted to the crime as well as mentioning the murder of Mr. Swayer. With his memory files admissible in court, it was as good as a confession.

Second, there was no way Hank hadn't noticed he was gone by now. He likely had the whole precinct in pursuit. They would look everywhere, stop at nothing to find him, he knew they would.

But it was really hard to think of any others as he bounced around the back of the van, bound head to toe and gagged as they trucked along the streets of what he hoped was still Detroit.

"Shit! Take it easy," Eric swore after a particularly rough turn that slammed Connor into the far wall. "We can't risk getting pulled over, you idiot."

The other android, Nate he remembered, cursed under his breath. "I'm trying, ok? This isn't how this was supposed to go. Why did you take him? I thought we were just supposed to shut him down and get it over with."

"This is why I'm the brains here," Eric spat. He glanced over his shoulder, glaring at Connor in distaste before continuing. "You don't think. Right now, they've got nothing on us that isn't circumstantial. That all changes if they get a hold of his memory files."

Well, unfortunately, it seemed as though Eric knew a thing or two. While it appeared that had kept him alive thus far, it did not bode well for the future.

Nate took a hard right, ignoring his companion's chiding about proper road safety. "So? We put a bullet through his head and all that data goes away."

"We can't know that for sure."

Another right, this one a little softer. Connor rolled to the side, but didn't ram into anything. "If we destroy the processor, they can't use it," he argued.

Eric looked like he wanted to hit him. His fingers curled into fists on his seat, but he had to use them to hold on instead of striking his partner. "Yeah, and shutting him down should have killed him, yet here he is."

The car came to a semi-abrupt stop. A red light, from what Connor could tell, so at least they were following some traffic laws. "Well, what do you suggest then?" Nate asked. He spared a glance at him over his shoulder. Connor gave him the most impressive glare he could muster, but he doubted it had much effect. "If we can't kill him, what the hell are we supposed to do? Not like we can keep him forever."

"Don't worry, we'll kill him," Eric promised, only heightening Connor's worries. He rolled backwards as the car lurched into motion again. "We just need to wipe his memory first."

Connor did not like the sound of that. If either of them even heard his muffled protests, they ignored them completely.

"How are we going to do that?" Nate questioned. A hard left sent him rolling to the other side of the vehicle. "I've never wiped a memory file before, have you? Do we even have the equipment to do that? Fuck, we don't even have the apartment to work anymore. Fuck!"

"Stop panicking, I know a place," he insisted with more confidence than Connor was comfortable with.

Eric reached for his companion's hand, initiating a brief interface, presumably to transfer coordinates. Nate's hand jerked with whatever information he had received, the van jolting to the side with the movement. "Shit! Are you sure?"

"Just drive," he ordered. He spat the words out as though they were poison. "It has what we need. We can't afford to be picky right now."

Nate turned down a side road, light cut off as tall buildings stretched above them on both sides. "Ok, ok. You're right. I just… Fuck I've never even been there and I know it's creepy as hell."

"Trust me, it's even worse than you think," Eric promised bitterly.

None of this was doing anything to put Connor at ease. He doubted that was the point of the conversation, but it was still unsettling. He rolled across the van floor again as he took another sharp turn. He let out a rather undignified squeak, muffled by his gag.

Eric glared over his shoulder at him. "The sooner we get rid of this little asshole, the better."

"Finally something we agree on," Nate mumbled.

The two of them continued bickering, but Connor all but tuned them out. Wherever they were taking him was bad news. He was going to need all his wits about him if he was going to survive this. Another turn and his head knocking against the side of the van didn't inspire him with confidence.

He bit down on his gag trying to reign in every ounce of concentration he could muster. He focused, relying on his visual and audio feed to take in anything even remotely useful. Where they were, where he predicted they were going, how the two of them would likely react when they got there. It was all speculation, but anything could help.

He sincerely missed his sensors and advanced tactical programs. And his typical adult ability to keep his mind on track rather than fixating on how much he wanted Hank right now.

Hank would make everything better. He would hold him, keep him safe. Everything would be ok.

But Hank wasn't here.

Connor shoved down his tears and tried, once again to focus on his current predicament, even as his head jarred violently, the van leaving the paved road onto rougher terrain. He rolled again as Nate hit the brakes, bringing the vehicle to a sudden and uncomfortable stop.

"Fuck, this place looks like shit," he complained. "Is anything even going to work?"

Eric was already opening his door, voice muffled by the van's walls as he spoke. "We'll make it work. It'll be fine. At least nobody's gonna look for us here."

The back doors were wrenched open sharply and Eric grabbed for him with little regard to whether or not it would hurt. Connor tried to mask his squeak of pain as his arms were twisted at an unnatural angle, but was unsuccessful. Tears welled in his eyes again, blurring his vision and obscuring his first look at what would likely be his grave.

When his vision cleared, he almost wished it hadn't. The mansion before him was large and imposing, a prison of brick and mahogany. What was once opulence and luxury was fading into neglected disrepair. The whole place screamed with an aura that would befit a haunted house.

"Home sweet home," Eric groaned sarcastically before shoving Connor harshly. "Help me with this, will you?"

Nate grabbed at his other arm. Unable to walk on his own with both of his legs bound, he would have fallen without the hands gripping at him. They pulled him up, dangling between the two in a mocking echo of how North and Markus had held him the other day.

He went limp, making sure to utilize every ounce in his tiny body to make this as hard for them as possible. Undeterred, his captor dragged him along without issue. His feet left ruts in the unkept lawn and one of his shoes came loose, tumbling away uselessly, but their progress into the foreboding structure didn't slow.

It loomed above Connor like a crypt. As the large, heavy doors closed behind him, cutting him off from the outside world, he couldn't help but feel that he would never see the light of day again. He would never see his friends, or solve cases with his coworkers. He would never play with Sumo. He was going to die.

But amid all his fears, all he could think was how badly he wanted his dad.