Chapter 2: Meet Cute.

Hey all! So here's the second chapter. Hank and Connor meet, so that's good! Right?

Anyway, next update will hopefully be on Sunday. Probably at night, but who knows, yeah?

Enjoy!

Connor looked up at the sign for Jericho Mental Health Facility with a mild sense of trepidation in his stomach. This wasn't the first time he had been to the facility, but it would be the last time he'd be entering as a guest, not as a patient.

Part of him felt annoyed at this all. He had failed his mission, the first time he had ever done that. He always completed his mission. Always. Amanda saw to that.

But this time he had failed. He had hesitated too long. He'd had to kill a few people in his past, but it was always heat of the moment. It was Amanda, who insisted on what he did, telling him what to do. And he'd always listened. But something about that man, the look on his face... the work he was doing... it had made Connor pause, long enough for the man to plant seeds of doubt. Markus, was his name. Markus, who fought for equality, for freedom for his people. Markus, who fought against violence and hatred. Markus, who had such kind, mismatched eyes, staring deep into what was left of his soul. If he had ever had one. Sometimes, when he was alone and allowed to think for himself, he wondered if he was a robot. An android, pretending he was alive. It would make sense, he felt.

And so he had let the gun fall, letting Markus go. Why, he wondered? He'd never failed his mission before. He knew what Amanda would do if he did. Hell, he was afraid of what she was going to do when he eventually got out of this facility. Well, he would be afraid, if he had feelings. Which he was 90% sure he didn't. Amanda said he didn't. Said he was supposed to be a good soldier, supposed to follow orders from the Company. He didn't know who ran the Company, or what the Company did, but he knew he had to follow the orders. Or else... or else.

Shaking slightly, though he didn't know why, Connor followed the kind African American officer into the facility, only allowing himself the briefest of pauses at the sign to swallow the emotion within him. He wasn't allowed to feel. He wasn't allowed to fail, either.

Maybe he could still finish his mission, he thought briefly, recalling the fact that Markus apparently worked for this facility. It was strange, Conner felt, that the heterochromatic man would allow the person who tried to kill him to stay in the facility he worked in, but he supposed nothing could be said for intelligence. That was something to keep in mind, he thought as they walked through the old double doors, mentally making a note. Thanks to Amanda's… tests, he had perfect memory recall. He tried not to think about the scars that littered his scalp, under the thick head of curly brown hair. Scars from little… experiments people from the Company had done. They didn't hurt much anymore, though they would twinge occasionally.

Pretty soon the two men reached reception, where a smiling woman was sitting behind a cruddy, run down desk, with an ancient computer and landline phone sitting on it. Connor remained emotionless as the kind officer smiled at the lady.

"Officer Chris Miller, here with Conner Stern. I know we're a little early, so I understand if we have to wait a bit," Officer Miller said sheepishly, with a kind smile. The lady just smiled back, before typing a note on the ancient computer.

"Oh, it's no worries, Officer. Markus wanted to be here personally to welcome Connor, so I'll just send him a note so he can come as soon as he can. I think he's with his class right now, but he should be done within ten minutes. Feel free to take a seat or wander around if you'd like."

Part of Connor wanted to wander around, curious about his new surroundings, but Officer Miller just nodded and directed him towards the shabby seating in the waiting area. Conner went and took a seat, restless energy making him sit tensely upright, like he had a stick in his ass. Before Officer Miller joined him, the man turned back to the lady, a sheepish look on his face.

"Oh! Before I forget, would you be able to give another patient a gift from me? I used to work with Lieutenant Hank Anderson and, while I don't have time to visit today, I promised him I'd bring some of my wife's cookies next time I came, as well as pictures of my baby. Would you be able to give them to him?" Officer Miller asked, beguiling, a pleasant smile on his lips. The lady returned the smile and nodded quickly. Connor filed the name 'Lieutenant Hank Anderson' away, just in case it became useful later.

"Yes, of course! I'm sure Hank will love the cookies. Would you mind if saw the pictures of your baby, though? I absolutely love children."

After that the two chatted, the woman cooing over the baby photos. After a few seconds of this, Conner grew bored and began looking around the small room he was in.

All things considered, it was not a nice place. The wallpaper was peeling, the ceiling had a huge water mark with possible early signs of mold (perhaps a flood? Maybe the roof leaked, and the Detroit storms had left the ceiling unprotected. He made a note to look into that later, if he had time), and the room had poor lighting, making it a muted grey tone. Likely at one point the room had had white walls and carpets that had faded over time to be a muddied grey. There were some pictures on the wall, mostly of smiling people. Old patients? Current patients? He didn't know. There were credentials on the walls for the leading doctors, one of whom graduated from Yale. That was impressive from such a rundown place. There was another board with pictures on it, with the word VOLUNTEERS over it with red, bubble letters. He recognized one of the faces on the wall, and abruptly stood up to get a closer look, forgetting about Officer Miller and the cooing lady.

Walking closer, Conner frowned as he looked at the smiling face of Markus Manfred. His one failure. The man looked happy, Connor noted absently, eyes roving the smiling face. He'd failed in killing this man. Why? No, Connor had never killed in cold blood before, but it was what he was trained for. What he was made for. To follow orders and do what he was told. But he hadn't with Markus. Was it something about the man, or was it something about Connor? He hoped it was the man. Because if it was Markus's fault, then Connor could work around it, learn to get over it. But if the fault ran in Conner himself… Connor pushed the thought away. It wouldn't do to dwell on that. He'd spend the time the court said he had to spend in the facility (6 months minimum, though a possibility for a longer or shorter stay), and then he'd go back to his mission. If Amanda still wanted him, that was. She had been so disappointed when he'd called from the jail, making sure he knew how disappointed she truly was. He hated it when he disappointed her, so he'd have to make it up to her. Maybe if he killed Markus in the facility? … No, they'd just arrest him and he'd be in jail forever. It would be best to wait until he was out.

But… but, he could still find out information about Markus while in here. Perhaps try and befriend the man, to figure out where he had gone wrong? That sounded like a good plan, Connor decided, nodding his head once. He marked that as his new objective. Learn more about Markus.

For now, he kept staring at the picture, before he felt a hand on his shoulder. For a second, he thought it was Officer Miller, so he turned to see what the man wanted. He was mildly surprised when, instead of Miller, he came face to face with mismatched eyes, with a kind twinkle in them.

"Admiring the photos? They put them up so that family members can figure out who are volunteers and who are doctors and nurses," Markus mentioned kindly, a soft half smile on his face. Connor had a feeling Markus knew which picture he was looking at. If he were capable of it, he had a feeling he'd be embarrassed. As it was, he just nodded once, looking back at the photos with a tilt of his head.

"Yes. I suppose that would be helpful here. Who are these other people?" Connor questioned, keeping his voice even. It wasn't hard to do so, but he did feel a spark of unease when faced with the man he had tried to kill, and was still, possibly, planning on killing. But, if he wanted to clear his self-created new objective, he had to start somewhere.

Markus just grinned, before naming the other smiling people in the other photos. He pointed to one of them, with a woman with short blonde hair and a young girl with long black hair, both smiling widely at the camera.

"Her name is Kara. She and her adopted daughter Alice come in sometimes to read to the patients. Alice is particularly attached to one of our newer patients, a man named Luther. His name-" Markus pointed to another photo of a medium height, sneering man with dusty brown hair- "is Gavin. He's a bit on the rude side, but he's good with the tougher cases. He volunteers on the weekends or occasionally on some evenings, when he finishes work at the DPD."

Markus continued down the line of photos, pointing out each person and giving a little fact about them. Most were uninteresting, until he got to a blonde-haired man, with sad, drooping eyes. Markus's eyes turned fond as he pointed to the man, mouth slanted in a half smile. Interesting reaction, Connor noted.

"This is one of my best friends. His name is Simon, and he used to be a patient here, like me. So did Josh-" finger pointed to a picture of an African American man- "and North-" another photo, this one of an unamused looking woman with long brown hair, likely dyed, with one shoulder exposed as her shirt drifted downward. "Simon helps out with the more depressed or anxious patients, offering meditation classes to help with overwhelming emotions. I think you and him would get along well. Josh helps with the more serious affairs, assisting with the catatonic patients, helping them get fresh air. And North..." Markus paused before smiling widely. Connor noted that in his memory as well. "North helps with physical activity, running a few dance classes.

"Altogether, the volunteers here help run classes and activities for the patients, or else assisting the nurses and doctors with caring for the patients. I, myself, run music, art, and Literature classes, once a week each, on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. Monday is music day, Wednesday is art, and Friday is Literature. I'd be very pleased if you decided to come to one of my classes, if you'd like. I promise they're not boring."

Markus grinned widely, a beguiling look on his face. Connor ignored how his stomach turned at the expression, so similar to the one that Markus wore that night that Connor had tried to… tried to murder the man. Connor hid his slight flinch by nodding slowly.

"Yes, I suppose that would be adequate."

Markus laughed slightly at that, which Connor found strange. He hadn't said anything funny, had he? But then Markus clapped him on the shoulder and directed him to the door to the right of reception. Officer Miller was standing there, watching the two with a detached look on his face, though the pleasant smile was still there.

"Thank you, Officer, for bringing Connor here. Would you like to come and see him settled, or would you like to leave him to us?"

Officer Miller smiled again, nodding his head slightly.

"I'll see him in, since I'm already here. It's my duty to see him settled, as well," the man said pleasantly. Markus only nodded, smiling back. Everyone was smiling. Should Connor smile too? He considered it but decided against it. His smiles never looked right, people told him.

"I'll be sure to keep this brief, then. Come on, follow me."

The man led the way through the facility, pointing out the important rooms. Despite how shabby it was, it seemed a decent facility. They had a gym (which had no equipment, just a couple poles and yoga mats), an art room, a music room, a common room with a baby grand piano in it (which Connor was pleased at. He didn't play piano often, as it was seen as unnecessary, but he had been taught when young for dexterity purposes and found he did enjoy it), a library full of shabby books, an outdoor rose garden (which he also enjoyed, reminding him of Amanda and their walks, some of the only good memories he had of the woman), and a small outdoor pool. It was empty now, with the cold, but it seemed nice enough. As they headed in to finally head to Connor's room, Officer Miller piped up for the first time in half an hour.

"Hank! Hey man, it's good to see you!"

Hank. Connor recalled the officer mentioning the name beforehand and turned to see who the mysterious Hank was.

A tall man, taller than even Connor (who at six foot was pretty tall), came into view. The man had silver hair, likely blonde in his youth, that went down to his shoulders. His beard was long, but well maintained, and his light blue eyes were weathered, but lit up at seeing the officer. Friends, Connor assumed, feeling a pang at the thought. He'd never had a friend, but he hadn't needed one. Technically he had brothers and sisters, others that Amanda took care of and trained, but none he was close to. Well, apart from one, but he was even more detached from his emotions than Connor was. Pushing the thought away, Connor watched the reunion between the two. The older gentleman, likely in his early fifties, came forward and quickly hugged the officer, patting his back roughly.

"Miller, you bastard, what are you doing here? You don't usually visit except on the odd weekend."

Despite the insult and use of the last name, Hank sounded very pleased, almost happy to see the other man. Officer Miller chuckled and thumped Hank equally hard on the back.

"Watch it old man. I'm here to bring a patient from custody to this facility here. I brought my wife's cookies and pictures of Damian, like you asked, but left them at reception since I wasn't sure I'd see you. I'm glad I did. It's been too long, man."

"Yeah, well, whose fault is that? Not like I'm going anywhere," Hank grumbled, eyes darkening somewhat, before moving over to land on Connor. The silver haired man froze when he saw Connor, looking him up and down slowly, an odd look in his eye. Connor couldn't tell if Hank was eyeing him in a good or bad manner. He supposed it didn't matter, either way.

After a second, Hank's eyes fell to Markus, a frown on his face, exaggerating the frown lines. The man must frown a lot, Connor noted, but then noticed some deep laugh lines. He must smile a lot, too Connor reasoned, but found it hard to see the serious man smiling often. Even when seeing his old friend he hadn't smiled.

"Hey Mark. This the guy you were talkin' about. The one who..." Hank trailed off, but the significant look between Connor and Markus made it clear what he was talking about. Connor tried not to shift uncomfortably, making sure his face betrayed no emotion. Hank eyed him strangely, making him wonder what the older man was thinking.

"Hank, you know I prefer being called Markus. And this is Connor, the new patient here at Jericho," Markus said pointedly, eyeing Hank heavily. It was like he was communicating without speech. Hank nodded slowly, all traces of happiness gone. Left was a serious expression, almost stormy. Connor tried not to feel intimidated, and almost succeeded. Markus continued speaking. "Connor, this is Hank Anderson, former Lieutenant from the DPD homicide unit. I hope you two can get along over the next few months."

Hank nodded slowly, a darker look filling his eyes at the mention of his former employment. A scowl was deep on his face as he stepped forward toward Connor. Connor fought the urge to take a step back, and merely looked the man deep in the eye, head tilted slightly up.

"So. You're Connor, eh? Not what I was expecting. Some goddamn twink with no expression. Huh."

Connor tilted his head to the side and frowned.

"And what was it you were expecting, Lieutenant?" He wasn't sure why he brought up the man's former employment when it was an obvious sore spot, but part of Connor enjoyed watching the storm rage in those murky blue eyes. He watched as Hank clenched his jaw tightly, the scowl deepening.

"Not sure. But definitely not… this." He said the word 'this' like it was a curse, foul and bitter. Like he had judged and found Connor wanting. For reasons unknown to him, Connor felt a stab of… something hit him. Disappointment? But why? Why should he care about this man he just met? A man who was so embittered, yet looked happy when seeing old friends, and had laugh lines that looked like they hadn't been used in years? What did this man mean to him? Nothing, he concluded, and filed the disappointment away.

"I'm sorry to disappoint, Lieutenant." Cool. Detached. Not engaging, like Amanda had programmed into him. There were times to engage, and times to let it go. Now was a time to let it go. This… Hank, meant nothing to him. Just a distraction on his way to his room. With emotionless eyes, Connor watched as Hank scowled, somehow, deeper, the wrinkles more pronounced than ever, making the man look twice his age. Their eyes met and held for several long seconds, Hank's angry and Connor's detached.

Before either could say anything else, Markus cleared his throat, smiling pleasantly when the two individuals locked in a fierce staring contest finally broke apart to look at the mixed-race man. Despite the smile, Connor noticed a bit of tension in his eyes, darting between the two men.

"If you two are done, I still have to show Connor to his room, before helping out with dinner. It was nice to see you Hank, be sure to share some of those cookies Officer Miller got you with me, alright?" Markus smiled, eyes crinkling when Hank rolled his eyes.

"Like Hell. Chris's wife makes the best damn cookies, and I sure as Hell ain't giving any up. Anyway, I'll see you later, Markus." Hank looked pointedly at Connor, scowled again, before turning and stomping off, the obvious slight clear even to Connor, who could be oblivious to the finer parts of human nature. Connor frowned, wondering why it bothered him at all, a soft ache briefly entering his heart. He pushed it away and cleared it from his mind, turning to Markus with blank eyes.

"Should we keep going?" Connor asked, eyes pulled together in question. He had found that moving his eyes and eyebrows slightly made people feel more comfortable around him. When trying to get information, it was important to make the individual feel safe and at ease. It seemed to have the desired effect, as the slight tension left the man's face, leaving Markus with a soft smile as he nodded.

"Yes, of course. We're not too far from your new room. Of course, you will have a roommate, but you have a private bathroom and a great view of the rose garden. I thought you would like that."

Markus smiled again, but the tension had returned somewhat, lingering in the eyes. Connor did his best not to frown and instead just nodded for Markus to keep going.

Markus slowly began walking, going in the direction Hank stormed off in. Connor thought that Markus might be feeling a bit hesitant, which was interesting. Connor hadn't seen Markus be hesitant before, even when he had drawn his gun on the man. But now he seemed almost like he didn't want to keep going. Why was he afraid of taking Connor to his room?

Finally, after a long minute of walking the not very long hallway, they stopped in front of a door labeled room 80.

"So! Here's your new room Connor. I assure you it's very nice and should fit your needs very well. One of the nurses will come and get you tomorrow morning for your first meeting with Dr. Rose. Dinner will be served in about an hour, but feel free to come later, as dinner is served warm from 6:00-8:00 PM. After that you can still get food, but it might be cold. Curfew starts at 10:00 PM and ends at 6:00 AM each day. Any questions?"

Before he could respond, he heard a sound to his side. Softly, so that Connor almost hadn't heard it, Officer Miller cursed under his breath. Connor started to frown, but stopped halfway through, turning to face the suddenly paler Officer.

"You've got to be kidding me," Officer Miller muttered under his breath, eyes wide. Connor was confused and was about to question it when Markus sighed, a grimace on his face.

"This was the last room available," Markus muttered back, shrugging. Connor detected a hint of a lie but didn't call it out. He was too confused. What was wrong with the room? Hadn't Markus said it was a nice room with a good view of the garden?

"We might as well get this over with," Markus continued, before knocking quickly on the door. After a moment the door opened up, and Connor felt his heart clench when he realized he knew the pissed off face staring back at them. Now he understood Officer Miller's and Markus's hesitation.

"What do you want, Markus? Forget something in the five seconds since we've been apart?" Hank drawled sardonically, angry eyes darting to Connor. Connor wasn't sure what he did to piss the old Lieutenant off so much, but it was clear the older man did not like him. Markus grimaced slightly, before putting on a fake smile.

"Well, here's the thing Hank. The place is a bit short on rooms at the moment, with those new patients from that abandoned theme park outside town. This is the last room we really have that is available. So..." Markus trailed off, wincing at the murderous look on the other man's face. Even Conner is a bit frightened and he's never afraid. Well. So he's told himself.

"You mean to say that I have to share a room with this cocksucker? Is that what you're fucking implying here, Markus?" Hank's voice was low and gravelly, and Connor felt a pool of heat rise in his belly. He frowned at the sensation, wondering why his body reacted that way. He pushed it to the side to think on later. Now he had to contend with Hank's murderous glare landing on him, making him shiver involuntarily. A draft must have come into the room. That was it.

"Hank, I'm sorry. You knew you couldn't be alone forever."

"Yeah, but this fucker?! Come on Markus! I'd take anyone else. Not this piece of shit."

Hank scowled at Connor, and Connor felt like scowling back. But the feeling was irrational, no reason to scowl, so all he did was stare blankly back like he'd been trained. He couldn't push down the feeling of annoyance, though. Great. Not only must he contend with being in this facility, but he must also deal with an embittered roommate. Wonderful. He ignored the flutter in his stomach as he thought about it, definitely not because he felt excited to have a challenge to work on during his stay here. It was a stomach bug. He'd have to drink orange juice to bolster his immune system, then.

"Connor isn't that bad, Hank. Give him a chance. I think you'll come to like him if you let yourself try."

Hank snorted. "Yeah, like I liked the last roommate you gave me? The guy tried to set me on fire, for Christ's sake!"

Connor felt his lips turn upward at that and had the idea to maybe try and mend things between him and Hank. After all, his mission of learning more about Markus could only be helped if he wasn't at odds with his roommate, right?

So, with his best attempt at a smile, Connor dipped his head in acknowledgement and claimed, "I assure you, Lieutenant, that I will endeavor to not set you on fire."

He wasn't sure if it was the fact he had called the man Lieutenant, if it was the joke, or if it was the pitiful attempt at a smile, but Hank hadn't seemed impressed. In fact, he almost looked angrier. Uh oh.

"Fuck you. I'm headed to the library, and he better be fucking gone by the time I get back, Markus, or I swear I'll hunt you down. I'm not sharing with this asshole."

With that, Hank stormed away for the second time that day, slamming into Connor on his way out. Officer Miller looked awkward, while Markus looked a touch frustrated. After a moment of silence, Markus sighed and gestured toward the door. They walked forward, entering the room together.

"Despite what he says, you still have to stay here. For now, at least. I wish I could stay and help you get settled, but dinner prep starts in five minutes and I'm needed. Let me know if you ever need anything, alright? Just open the door and ask an orderly and I'll be here as soon as I can, even if I'm not at the facility that day, okay?" Markus waited for Connor to nod, before nodding and continuing. "Alright! So, I hope the rest of your day goes well and you settle in nicely here. You'll have individual sessions with Dr. Rose two days a week and group session three days a week. You're allowed to do whatever you want between sessions, though we recommend joining one or two of the classes we offer here, if only to give yourself something to do. As I said, you ever need anything, just ask. I'm not here every day, but if you really need me, I can come as soon as possible. Any questions?"

Connor shook his head, suddenly too tired and troubled to care. He could ask questions later if needed. Markus smiled back and said goodbye, leaving Connor and Officer Miller standing in the small but messy room. In his daze he hadn't even had time to analyze the room properly. Oh well. He could do that after he slept. Before he could head to the unoccupied bed, which had fresh looking sheets on it, Officer Miller cleared his throat.

"Look. Uh, I know Hank can be a handful, but he's a really great guy once you get passed his gruff nature. He's just pissed 'cause he's not alone anymore. Give him time and he'll come around, I'm sure of it," he paused, before lighting up, a smile on his face. "Oh, but if you want to quicken the process, you'll want to get Hank some booze. They don't allow much alcohol in this place, only the rare champagne or wine on holidays, but you get Hank some hard liquor, a nice whiskey or bourbon, and he'll be your friend for life. Anyway, it was nice meeting you, Connor. Don't let Hank scare you, he's all bark no bite. Usually."

With that, Officer Miller waved goodbye and took off, presumably towards the exit. Connor barely had energy to wave goodbye in return.

As he headed to his bed, eyes glazed, Connor thought about what Officer Miller had said. With a sardonic smile, Connor face planted into the bed, and thought sarcastically that it was a great idea.

But where the hell would he find alcohol in a place like this?