Why they took his gag off, Connor wasn't sure, but he wasn't exactly going to complain about that. What he was going to do was give them a piece of his mind.

"You guys are meanies!" He spat with as much venom his little voice could carry.

…Ok, that didn't come out quite as nasty as he meant it to. He couldn't have regressed so far that his own mind was censoring him now, could he?

Nate gave his companion a concerned look. "Meanies? Seriously? Are you sure this kid is the deviant hunter?"

"Yes, I'm sure," Eric snapped back. He squinted in the dim light of the foyer, flicking the light switch a couple of times as though that would magically make it work. "I know what I'm doing."

"But-"

"It's him," he cut him off. "Trust me, I saw all his technical records. He's just playing dumb, don't let him fool you."

Well, regressing, but Connor wasn't about to inform them of that. It might serve him well if they had a sliver of respect for him and his projected capabilities. Then again, underestimating him would probably work even better.

Leaning into the skid might actually prove useful.

Connor let a few of the tears he had been holding back fall. He sniffled, possibly a bit overdramatically. "I want daddy!" He cried, only half acting.

Nate's grip on him loosened ever so slightly. Connor wouldn't have been able to tell without his advanced sensors, but it was a start. "Shit. Eric…"

"Don't fall for it, idiot." Eric's hold on him only tightened. His scowl was visible from the hazy light coming in from one of the windows. A crack in the glass set a thin shadow dividing his face. "I told you, it's him. Even if it wasn't, we would still need to get rid of him. It's not like we could just give him back without questions"

"Yeah, right. Ok," he agreed. "Let's just get this over with." His fingers clamped down on his arm tighter than before, bruising his sensitive synthaskin.

Well, so much for that.

"Fuck you," Connor said, dropping the 'innocent child' image. If they weren't going to show him mercy for being a kid, he would make them show him respect.

At least, he was still capable of swearing. That gave him confidence his regression hadn't gone so far that he was, in fact, just a helpless child. It wasn't much, but it helped him shove down the panic that threatened to cloud his processor and render him useless.

"You hear that?" Eric laughed, jostling him roughly. "Looks like he's still got some spunk."

"He won't after we wipe him, that's for sure."

He laughed again. "Hell no. I'm not gonna leave anything behind." Eric glared down at him with a level of hatred that Connor honestly felt he didn't deserve. "When I'm done with you, you'll be lucky if you remember how to blink."

"Blinking is an auxiliary program not linked to the processor's memory," Connor countered.

Even swallowed by the house's shadows, he could make out the matching looks of annoyed bafflement on his captors faces. He belatedly realized that was not at all the point of that threat.

Eric grabbed his other arm, moving Nate aside so he was the only one holding him. Not that being restrained by one person was proving to be any less secure than the two, Connor noted with frustration. He wiggled his legs, but the zip-ties securing them held fast.

"There should be a generator out back," Eric instructed. "I'll keep a hold on him, you go get us some power."

"Why don't you go?" Nate argued, glancing around the dilapidated mansion nervously. "You're the one who knows where it is."

"Oh for fuck's sake." He shoved Connor forward like he was handing over a bag of flower. Nate took him without a word. "Fine. But if he gets away from you, I swear, you're gonna be part of the next shipment."

Eric didn't wait for a response before stomping off into the darkness, leaving him alone with the AK700.

Connor wanted to believe this was the more reasonable of the two, but it was honestly a toss up. While Eric seemed to be headstrong and fixated, he definitely had the processing power to back up his actions. Nate appeared to respond more emotionally, he was scared of getting caught. Yet he apparently lacked the empathy that could help him in this situation.

All in all, they were an odd pair. Certainly not fully on the same page, but Connor wasn't sure what to do with that. He considered trying to seed the discourse between the two of them. But, considering Eric wanted to kill him and Nate wanted to kill him faster, he figured there wasn't a whole lot to work with.

For a long couple of minutes, they just waited in the quiet dark. "God, this place is creepy," Nate complained, breaking the silence.

"You could always leave," Connor supplied.

"Do you think I'm an idiot?" He snapped back angrily. His fingers dug into his arm hard enough, he wondered whether or not he was denting his chassis.

Well, couldn't blame him for trying.

Moments later, they were both squinting as their eyes had to adjust to the lights suddenly blinking on. "Finally," Nate sighed. "Damn, this place is still creepy even when it's lit up."

Connor, admittedly, had to agree with that particular assessment. The large, ornate chandelier cast eerie shadows across the room. Cobwebs clung greedily to every surface imaginable. Dust coated the room like a sickly gray shroud.

Overall, the place looked more like it would fit into a horror film than residential Detroit.

It didn't take long for Eric to return. He looked to be in an even worse mood in the wake of his excursion, but turned his glare to Nate. "Oh good, you actually managed to do something right," he insulted.

"You're an asshole, you know that?" Nate responded. "You should be happy I'm even helping you with this."

Eric just rolled his eyes before he grabbed at Connor, pulling him from his colleague's grip. "As if you had another choice."

While Nate didn't seem to agree, he also didn't argue. He just followed along as Connor was dragged further into the house, past the once-grand staircase, and down into the basement. His feet thumped against the steps like drum beats as they descended.

Where the main levels looked like a haunted mansion, the basement looked like a mixture of a medieval dungeon and Dr. Frankenstein's workshop. Though he had no context for why any of the equipment or actual jail cells were there, Connor suspected this place had been designed for exactly what Eric intended to do to him.

The basement lab looked like a disaster zone which only worried him more. His struggles increased as they dragged him closer to the run-down equipment.

"What the hell happened here?" Nate asked, taking in the damage. His grip didn't falter.

"Fuck," Eric replied. "I didn't think it would be this messed up." He shoved him over to his companion hard enough to make Nate stumble under his weight. "Take him," he ordered unnecessarily.

Connor dangled uselessly from the accomplice's hands as Eric inspected the lab. "Is it still usable?" he asked.

Eric wiped dust off the computer monitor. "I think I can get it working, but I'll need a little time."

"How much time are we talking?" Nate asked. Connor could see the concerned look he gave him from the corner of his eye. "It's not like we can just keep him. The police will be looking for him by now."

"Relax, will you. I told you, I have everything under control." He pulled on some loose wires and began reattaching them to the machine. "They have no reason to look here. We'll be fine for a few days at least."

That didn't sound good, but Connor didn't have anything to add to the conversation.

"Ok, ok," Nate relented. "So what do we do until this thing is fixed?"

The look Eric gave Connor was complete disgust. Like his very presence was nothing more than an inconvenience to his existence. It felt a bit Ironic, but he deduced that calling him out on that would only make things worse.

"Just toss him into the cell," he ordered. "He'll be out of the way there until we can wipe him."

"You're going to regret this," Connor announced, breaking his silence. It was an empty threat, a useless declaration by a desperate child, and they both knew it. "You're gonna get caught. They'll make you regret this."

"They? They who, the humans?" Eric barked out a mocking laugh. "Those self absorbed creatures don't have the brain space to focus on anything beyond themselves. They probably don't even remember you're gone."

No, that wasn't true. Hank would come for him, Connor knew that without a doubt. Hank would come for him. It was just a matter of if he was alive for him to find. "You're wrong."

Nate made a worried noise indicating that he believed him, but Eric just rolled his eyes. "Even if they do come for you, they won't find anything." He waved his hand at his companion and turned back to his work. "Make sure the door's locked tight. He's a slippery bastard, I don't want to take any chances."

Nate didn't hesitate with that one. He hoisted Connor over his shoulder, ignoring his protesting squeak. It didn't matter how much he went limp or flailed, he was easily carried back down the hall to where the dark prison cell waited for him. "Don't do this," he pleaded uselessly. "Just let me go."

"Yeah, not going to happen." Nate set him inside surprisingly gently. Connor was sure he looked small and pathetic bound there on the dirty floor. "Look, it's nothing personal, ok?" He said as though that made it all better. "You just stuck your nose where it didn't belong. It'll be over soon."

"I want dad," Connor said again, barely above a whisper. There was no manipulation this time, just honest desire. Hank would know what to do.

For a moment, Nate almost looked sympathetic. "Sorry," he mumbled as he pulled the heavy door shut. "It'll be over soon," he promised again.

Left all alone in the darkness, Connor wondered if Nate could hear his broken sobs as clearly as he heard his retreating footsteps.