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Chapter title: A Culmination

Hank glared at the handcuffs around his wrists, the metal cuffs digging deep into his flesh. It had been quite some time since he'd been placed in handcuffs, he mused. It had not gotten any more pleasant.

But that was alright. Being put into handcuffs was fine as long as Connor had gotten out and was able to go and save the world. Or whatever. He'd gladly sit here for a thousand years if it meant Connor was able to be free.

Well… maybe not a thousand years. He had to admit that was a bit much. But he didn't mind being placed in the DPD holding cell, handcuffs digging into his flesh. Not when his distraction had helped Connor escape.

His only regret was that he had failed to destroy that fucking computer the previous night, allowing that cocksucker Perkins to see the same picture Connor had, the man immediately rushing to find the location and stop Markus once and for all. He'd told the other agents to arrest Hank (which, fair. He had punched a federal agent, after all). Luckily Chris had been there at the site, providing backup for the lockdown, and had called Fowler. Fowler, who Hank had still not seen yet, had pulled a few strings and had gotten Hank transferred to their units holding cells.

Hank had only heard snippets of what had happened with Connor and the others the previous night, but what he'd heard hadn't been good. Ben had been able to stop in briefly before leaving to help with the investigation but hadn't said much. All he'd said was that they had found the location Markus and his followers were hiding in, that it had been blown up, and that they had no idea how many people survived. Hank had felt his heart stop at the words, wanting more information but getting nothing, as Ben apologetically rushed off to handle another case that had come in from the freighter.

Connor couldn't be dead, he had told himself all throughout the night, mind racing too much to get any restful sleep. Connor had to be alive. The alternative was just too much for him to bear.

Now, at whatever the fuck o'clock it was, Hank could only stare at his handcuffs, wishing more than anything that he was out there, helping Connor. Knowing if Connor was okay. But he wouldn't be allowed to leave for a while, at least. Unless Fowler pulled some kind of miracle and got him released. But even then, he'd just be sent back to the facility, probably kept under strict watch.

So, Hank just sighed, stretching on the uncomfortable bed he was sitting on. At least he was allowed a room by himself. His connection with the DPD afforded him that much, it seemed.

Half an hour passed like that, Hank staring into space, trying not to let his worry overtake his heart. Connor was fine. Markus was fine. They all were fine and were moving to use his access key to free their people. They had until midnight to use it, they'd make it.

As Hank was trying to force his mind to believe his lies, he heard someone approach the cell, the jingle of keys alerting him. Eyes sharp on the door, he let out a scowl when he saw the sneering man on the other side.

"Well, well. If it isn't Hank Fucking Anderson. Always knew I'd find you behind bars one day," Reed sneered, keys in his hands. To taunt him, or to release him? Knowing Reed, it was to taunt him.

"Fuck off, Reed. I don't have time for your bullshit," Hank growled, hands clenching. Reed growled back, but took the key and unlocked the door, to Hank's surprise.

"You know, I really would love to just let you rot in here. But Fowler wants to see you. So, get your fat ass up and try to not slow me down, old fuck."

Hank had heard Connor had knocked the man unconscious. Hank regretted more than anything in this moment that he hadn't been there to see it. Scowling, Hank stood up, because he wasn't an idiot. While he hated Reed, the man did follow his orders. He just had to be a dick about while doing it. He decided not to antagonize the other man, figuring it just wouldn't be worth it.

Keeping his mouth shut, Hank stood from the crappy bed and made his way to the exit. He couldn't stop the scowl when Reed grabbed his arm roughly, like he was a misbehaving criminal instead of the man's former coworker, but he didn't say anything. But he wanted to. Ohh, did he want to.

Thankfully, Reed said nothing else as he dragged Hank through the precinct, though he had a satisfied grin on his face as he yanked Hank about, obviously getting twisted pleasure at his power over him. Jackass.

However, right before Reed brought him up the steps that would lead to Fowler's glass office (which the man had complained about numerous times to Hank, back when they'd still been friends), Reed stopped, forcing Hank to halt in his tracks. Wrists stinging with the abrupt stop, Hank glared at Reed, who was glaring right back.

"I don't know what the fuck your little boyfriend is up to, Anderson, but rest assured he will not get away with it. When we find him, I'm going to make sure he gets put away for a very long time. You hear me?" Reed growled, eyes dark. Hank clenched his hands and bared his teeth. Threats to himself? That he could handle. Threats to Connor? Another fucking story.

"You fucking asshole, if you think-" Hank began, eyes screaming bloody murder, but was interrupted when the door to Fowler's office opened, the man looking at them with angry eyes.

"Reed, what the fuck are you doing?! I asked you to bring Anderson to me, not have a fucking chat! Bring him in, I don't have all fucking day," Fowler barked, heading back to his desk, body tense. Shit. Fowler was never in a good mood, but he seemed to be downright furious at the moment. That did not bode well for Hank.

Luckily, Reed didn't dare defy a direct order from his boss, so he said nothing, though he did look like he'd swallowed a lemon as he yanked Hank up the stairs. The fucker.

Reed opened the door harsher than he had to and dragged Hank over to the chair, shoving him in it. If Fowler didn't look ready to murder him, he'd have complained. As it was, he just sunk into the chair, scowling petulantly, as Reed turned to leave. Fowler stopped him.

"Detective Reed. The key, please?"

Reed paused at the door, glanced back, and stiffly returned to hand the keys over. He didn't bother looking at Hank, which Hank was just fine with.

Finally, the asshole left, leaving Hank alone with Fowler. Who was scowling so deeply that Hank would have mistaken him for 80, not his middle aged 56. Shit.

After a minute of glaring, Fowler stood up and stiffly released Hank from the handcuffs, thank God. As Hank rubbed the sore wrists, he warily looked at Fowler, who still had yet to say a single word to him. The man took his seat across the desk and continued to glare.

Another minute passed, Hank growing impatient, when Fowler finally broke. Fists clenched on the desk, Fowler spoke, voice tightly constrained.

"Anderson. Would you mind explaining why I got a report on you fucking punching a FED in the face?"

Ah. Of course, Fowler was pissed about that. It wasn't like Hank had never punched an officer before, but he usually restrained from hitting the FEDs. And as a civilian, Hank had a feeling he would be in a lot more trouble than as a cop. Still, it had been worth it. So, Hank just shrugged, causing the vein on Fowler's forehead to bulge dangerously.

"Oh. That. Yeah, I punched this fucking bastard, Perkins, in his smug fucking face." Upon seeing the murderous look on Fowler's face, Hank rolled his eyes, trying to relieve the tension. While they might not be friends anymore, he didn't exactly want the man to die of an aneurysm or some shit. "Oh, come on, Jeffery. Guy fucking had it coming. Condescending, homophobic prick."

It seemed his attempt to lighten the mood worked somewhat, as Fowler went from, "apoplectic" to simply, "royally pissed off." So, his usual temperament.

"And it had absolutely nothing to do with you helping your fucking roommate escape?"

Ah. So, they were addressing the elephant in the room. Keeping his face absolutely blank, since he had no idea to whom Fowler gave his loyalty (once upon a time Hank would never have had reason to doubt his boss and friend, but now… now he just wasn't sure), Hank shrugged.

"Hey, I'm not his fucking keeper. What the kid does has nothing to do with me," Hank lied, keeping his tone casual.

Unfortunately, he'd known Fowler for a long fucking time, so the man saw right through him.

"Yeah right," Fowler scoffed, leaning closer, eyes intent. "Look. If you just tell us where he is or what he's planning, you can get off the charges that the bastard Perkins wants to charge you with. You'll get years in jail, Hank. Years. Just tell us what you know, and this can all just go away. I promise."

Fowler's gaze on him softened, the man looking at him like they were still friends. Like the past three years had never happened.

But that was bullshit. The last three years had happened. And Fowler wasn't his friend any longer. Especially not if he'd ask him to betray Connor. So, with a scowl on his face, Hank shook his head.

"No fucking way. Send me to jail, see if I fucking care. I'm not saying a God damned thing."

Silence reigned in the office as Fowler continued to stare at Hank, a sad look in his eyes. He shook himself out of it a moment later, scowl back in place.

"Do you have to fucking make things harder, Hank?! Why can't you just listen?! What does this Connor even mean to you, anyway?!"

Fowler sounded frustrated and angry, but Hank didn't care. What did Connor mean to him? Hell if he knew, but whatever it was, it was strong. Hank leaned forward, hands on the desk, clenched into fists.

"You don't fucking understand, Jeffery. You don't know what I know. Do you even know what Cyber fucking is?! A fucking government conspiracy that's actually real! They take children, Jeffery, and turn them into soldiers! How can you be okay with that?!"

Fowler stared at him, scowl deepening as he stood and leaned across the desk, invading Hank's personal space.

"Cyber isn't real, Hank. It's a fucking conspiracy. Something only fucking idiots believe in."

Hank stood as well, pushing back against Fowler, not caring what would happen to him. Fists clenched, Hank got right into Fowler's face, spitting mad.

"You fucking asshole. You utter jackass! It's not a conspiracy! It's fucking real!"

"No, it is not! It's something mental patients made up, a schizophrenic's delusion! I always thought that your only problem was your fucking depression, but now I see you're just as batshit crazy as the rest of them!" Fowler growled, before pulling back and pacing the confined office. People from outside the office were looking their way, concerned frowns, but the room was soundproof, so no one could hear anything. Good.

Hank took a heavy seat, scowling fiercely, so fucking pissed. More than that, his heart ached. He'd been friends with this man, once. How had he missed how purposely obtuse he was? The fight leaving him, Hank stared down at the floor, suddenly bone tired. The only sound in the room was Fowler's pacing. After a minute, Fowler spoke, voice softer than he'd heard it in years. Not since the man had learned about what happened to Cole.

"It's not real, Hank. It's just a myth. Something crazy people like to latch onto, because it makes them feel better, fighting an imagined enemy. I don't know what they were teaching you in there, but it was a fucking lie. I know you were close with that activist, Markus, but what he told you wasn't the truth. None of it was. Cyber isn't real. I promise you that."

Hank looked up at Fowler, eyes blank. The man had sounded beseeching, begging Hank to listen to reason, but his words were wrong. He knew Cyber was real. It had to be.

"You believe what you want, Fowler. I know what's real. Put me in jail for the next decade. Hell, put me away for the rest of my fucking life. See if I fucking care. Markus and Connor will show the world the truth. Then you'll fucking see."

And that was that. He had nothing else to say to his once friend. Fowler stared at him, sorrow in his eyes for a split second, before it was chased away with his usual anger. Hank didn't even care. He knew what he knew. He trusted Connor, trusted what he'd told him. Hell, he even trusted Markus, even though he was still pissed at him. He knew the truth. Just because Fowler was stuck in his denial didn't make him right.

"Fine. Fuck you, Hank. Fuck you. I'll do what I can to reduce your charges, get you a plea deal, maybe an insanity plea, but I can't make any promises. Now get the fuck out of my office."

Despite his demand, Hank wasn't actually free to leave. Reed came back, smug smile on his stupid fucking face, and snapped the handcuffs on nice and tight. Then he dragged Hank back to his cell, trying to engage with him, but Hank didn't take the bait. He was so fucking tired. So tired.

Once back in his cell, he stared at the wall, handcuffs still on. Reed was supposed to take them off now that Hank had been processed, but of course the fucker hadn't. But he didn't care. He was too tired to care.

Cyber was real. He knew it was. It had to be. Right? Connor had said it was real. Markus had said it was real. Even Simon and Josh confirmed it. So, it had to be real. Right?

Yeah, but they were all in a nut house at one point or another. Who knows how sound their minds are?

Hank winced at the thought, hands clenching into fists. That was true. Markus had once been a patient in Jericho. So had Simon, Josh, and North. Connor, obviously. He didn't know what Starlight's deal was, but…

But maybe Fowler was right. Maybe Cyber wasn't real and he'd just been duped by crazy fuckers.

The thought settled thick and sour in his stomach, causing him to feel sick. No. It couldn't be true. He, he had proof, didn't he? The access key, right?

But… but that could have been anything. Hell, he'd never even seen what was on the fucking thing, had just handed it over blithely to Connor. Trusting. Fuck. Where had his inner detective gone?! How had he allowed himself to be tricked like this?!

Had he been tricked? Was Cyber real? Everyone who'd told him about the Company had been in a mental facility at one point or another. He'd had no proof about the existence of the Company outside of the word of Markus and his friends.

It had seemed so real, but how could Hank be sure he hadn't just been latching onto the mystery? The intrigue? He'd been so fucking bored before Connor arrived, with his dark brown, empty eyes and his soft brown hair. After learning about Cyber, how could he be sure he hadn't just wanted it to be real so much? How could he know he hadn't just wanted to be useful so much that he'd willingly went along with a madman's ramblings about a conspiracy, all the while ignoring the parts that didn't make sense? Like, how could the government do such terrible things, and no one know? How could they have the technology available to modify humans at a time when home computers barely even existed?

God. God. This was all fucked up. He'd been so sure, so fucking sure that Cyber was real. But Fowler had torn a hole in his confidence. Had planted that seed of doubt. And now he didn't know what he believed.

Hank continued to stare at the wall, his mind bringing up Connor. Connor, who looked so earnest all the time. Connor, who looked like he couldn't tell a lie. Connor, who Hank was quickly falling for, heart so tangled up he didn't know where he even existed anymore. He couldn't have lied, could he? He couldn't just be crazy.

Right?

_—_

The next several hours passed slowly. At one-point Hank had been able to drift off to sleep but had woken an indeterminate time later in a cold sweat, shaking fiercely. He couldn't erase the image of Connor, eyes blank with death as he laid on the floor, red blood surrounding him, Hank too slow to save him. He hadn't thought he'd been asleep long but decided not to risk another nightmare and so he stayed up, staring at the wall. The lack of a clock was the true torture here. He had no idea what time it was, no windows in the room to tell by sunlight. He didn't know if it had passed midnight, or if it was even still Friday at all. He'd been so busy being angry at Reed and Fowler while out that he'd forgotten to check the time. He had no idea what was going on outside. He had no idea if Connor and the others were okay.

And, try as he might, he couldn't get rid of the lingering doubt that plagued him, the idea that he'd been duped. Oh, he did his best to ignore it. He was in far too deep now to get out unscathed anyway. And, even if it wasn't true, he didn't regret helping Connor. Yeah, maybe the kid was nuts, but maybe Hank liked that about him.

But the idea was still troubling. And it wasn't until he heard the sound of keys jingling, another person coming to presumably get him, that he tore himself from his worsening thoughts. Stomach clenching, Hank looked warily at the cell door, waiting to see who it was. He let out a soft breath when he saw it was one of the newbie cops he didn't know, not Reed again.

"You have a visitor," the cop said, eyes blank as she stared at Hank, clearly unimpressed by him. He wondered if she'd heard about him in the precinct yet. He'd be damned if he hadn't left his mark on this place. Maybe he'd come back, if he didn't get sent to jail and was released from Jericho. It would be nice, being a detective again.

Staying seated so as not to concern her, Hank just nodded as the cop opened the door, gesturing for Hank to stand. He did, following behind her in a much better mood than when he'd had to follow Reed. He wasn't quite sure who he was going to see, as he didn't know many people outside of the precinct, but whatever. Hopefully he'd be able to find a clock somewhere and check the time.

As the pair walked through the precinct, Hank nodding his head at the people he remembered from his days on the force, he saw a clock on the wall. Suppressing the small grin of achievement, he noted that the time was 8:00 PM, though he didn't know the day. But he was fairly certain it was still Friday. He'd have known if an entire day had passed. Yeah?

That meant the others still had time, if they hadn't done it already. It was the last chance Hank had to figure out if he was crazy or not.

Mind preoccupied with thoughts of Cyber and the others, Hank let out a grunt of surprise when the cop stopped him before the interrogation room, making Hank's eyebrows crease. Who the fuck would he be seeing in the interrogation room? Perkins? God, he fucking hoped not. He hated that prick.

Trepidation entering his heart, Hank watched the cop open the door, gently (thank Christ, his wrists were still aching from Reed tugging him around) pulling him inside. As he faced the interrogation desk, scowl reflexively rising on his face, he found himself stopping dead, the cop forced to stop as Hank stared at the man with wide eyes.

"Connor…?" Hank mumbled, because Christ, did the man look like Connor. But when the man turned to face him, eyes cold and mouth cut in a grim line, Hank knew it couldn't be. For one, the man looked far more severe than Connor could ever hope to look, even on a bad day. And for another, he had less freckles and his eyes were a couple shades lighter, more gray than brown, and his jaw more defined and less rounded. He had the same hair color, but it was styled differently, more contained. Plus, while Hank couldn't tell while he was sitting, he was fairly sure the man was his height, not Connor's, from the way he folded his legs.

The Not Connor stood up, confirming Hank's belief that he was a couple inches taller than Connor, nodding his head in acknowledgment.

"Not quite. Hello, Hank. I've heard so much about you. Please, take a seat."

His voice was deeper, Hank noted as he sat down, handcuffs clinking on the table as he eyed the man suspiciously. The man looked at the cuffs and looked back at the cop, tilting his head in Hank's direction.

"Please, release him. I can handle him from here."

To Hank's surprise, the cop did, carefully undoing the lock, taking the handcuffs with her as she exited the room. Which was also odd. Usually they didn't leave prisoners with visitors. Frown deep on his face, Hank squinted at the Connor lookalike.

"Who the fuck are you? You a FED?"

The other man raised an eyebrow, but otherwise didn't change expression. Fuck, that was that creepy. Even when Connor was still under Cyber's (?) control, he still smiled and moved his facial features at least a little. Whoever the fuck this was didn't move or change his expression at all. It was beyond creepy. Especially since he looked so much like Connor. He thought Connor had said he didn't have any biological siblings? Or had he just assumed that's what Connor had meant when he'd mentioned his pseudo siblings?

"My name is Colton Stern, though I prefer to go by the name Nines. Connor is my younger brother. He is also why I am here today. I'm… afraid he might be in trouble. People are after him who will not stop until he is dead. I would… prefer to prevent that, if possible."

Fuck. So this was Nines, huh? The brother Connor had mentioned last week, who'd taken him drinking and had soothed his headache? The one he was closest to? Hank watched the other man, scrutinizing his expression. When he'd mentioned his fear for Connor, his eyebrows had furrowed ever so slightly, his mouth turning downward minutely. It was enough to show Hank that the man was, indeed, concerned.

"Huh. So you're Nines. Connor's mentioned you."

Hank was about to make a gibe about his nickname and how ridiculous it was, but as he said that Connor had mentioned the man, Nines tilted his head to the side, eyes curious. He looked so much like Connor in that second that all the breath had gone out of Hank, eyes wide as he stared at the man.

"Has he? I suppose we've always been particularly close, growing up. That's why I need your help. He, he means a great deal to me. It would be regrettable if he was hurt because of his actions."

Hank scowled at that, eyes narrowing at Nines, or whatever the fuck he wanted to be called. Hank realized that the man hadn't mentioned who he worked for, how he had the ability to meet with a prisoner privately in an interrogation room.

"Yeah? And just who do you work for?" Hank demanded, suspicious. While he was still having doubts about Cyber and its existence, he would be damned if he gave Connor up without proper cause.

Nines frowned softly at that, though his eyes remained blank. Emotionless. Hank did his best not to shrink away from that cold stare.

"I… think you know who I work for, Hank. Or, who I used to work for. I cannot talk, here, but I need you to know that my only concern is my brother. I need to make sure he is okay."

He sounded so earnest. For all that he had a deeper voice, he sounded so much like Connor that Hank almost believed him. That is, if the emotion had reached his eyes. But the stare was still blank, still cold. It was not the look a concerned sibling had. It was the look a soldier had, obeying orders. So Hank scowled, crossing his arms over his chest and looking away from the imposter.

"Yeah? Bullshit. I ain't telling you nothing, got it? Fuck off."

Nines let out a soft noise of surprised frustration, clearly not expecting Hank's resistance. Hank mentally scoffed. And he said he'd heard a lot about Hank. Yeah right. Hank looked back at the man a second later, face showing his defiance.

Nines stared at him, jaw clenched, eyes tight. But still emotionless. Blank. Nines looked away, down at the ground, then looked back at Hank. Determination had entered his face, creeping only slightly into his eyes.

"Hank. Please. He is my brother. Everything I have done… everything I am, it's all been for him. He is… he is everything to me. I can't let them hurt him. Please, Hank. Please. "

Shit. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Fuck was this guy convincing. His voice was soft, sounding much closer to Connor's than ever before. He had a deeper frown on his face, eyebrows furrowed a lot deeper. But the thing that struck Hank, the thing that made him inclined to believe Nines, was the look in his eyes. Despite everything, the desperation in his voice had crept oh so slightly into his eyes. They were still mostly blank, shuttered against his emotions, but Hank was starting to think that maybe he was just like Connor had been, in the beginning. Maybe he just didn't know how to express his emotions, after spending years suppressing them.

Well, if there was one thing Hank was sure on, it was that what Nines had just said was not a lie. Connor meant a great deal to the man. Which, honestly, Hank could sympathize with. He also didn't want Connor to get hurt.

So, suspicion still there but waning, Hank uncrossed his arms and frowned at the man across from him.

"How can I trust you? How can I know that what you're saying is the truth?"

Nines turned his eyes away from Hank at that, eyes looking down at the table, hidden from Hank's gaze. It seemed like he was thinking about something. Deciding something. Finally, a moment later, Nines looked up, jaw set and eyes hard.

"I don't know if you can. But I promise you, Connor is the most important thing to me. I don't think he knows this, thinking that we are just adopted siblings that Amanda took in independently, but Connor is my younger brother by blood. When I was six and he was three, our parents were killed during a protest against the AIDS/HIV epidemic. Cy-" Nines cut himself off, looking up at the camera, before looking back at Hank. "The Company killed them, to silence them. Amanda took my brother and I in, and told me that she would raise us, take care of us. All we had to do was follow directions. If I ever failed my tasks, she would… she would hurt him. I couldn't bear to lose him, too, so I molded myself into what she wanted me to be. But now the Company is so angry at Connor. They will kill him, if they find him. I must find him first. I must… please, Hank. Help me find my brother."

Well, shit. Hank couldn't do anything other than swallow thickly, looking at the desperation on Nines's face. Even his eyes were shining with it. He couldn't be lying. There was no way anyone could be such a good liar. Especially not someone who had looked so cold before, so emotionless. Damn him to hell, but he trusted the man. So, with trepidation in his heart, Hank nodded.

"Okay. Okay. But… but I want to come with. I'm not letting you alone with him, not until I know for sure."

Nines smiled softly at that, eyes shining. However, for a split second, Hank could have sworn he saw… satisfaction fill the man's eyes. It was gone as fast as he'd noticed it, but it was enough to cause unease to fill his heart. But he couldn't turn back now. Not when Nines smiled like that, mouth tilted just like Connor's did. So he just swallowed thickly again and nodded.

"Now, I don't know where he is. But if you can get me out of here, I can tell you what I know."

"Of course, Hank. I'd already planned on bringing you with me. I spoke with your Captain earlier, and I've been given clearance to take you back to the facility while you await your sentence. If you'll follow me, we can leave right now, and you can tell me what you know, so we can find Connor together."

Something about the smile Nines gave him seemed off, but Hank couldn't put his finger on why. Pushing the unease away (this was Connor's brother, a person Connor probably trusted, someone who cared deeply about Connor, there was no reason to feel such suspicion), he stood to follow Nines out of the room.

The pair walked through the precinct together, side by side. It felt weird, walking out in public with a man who looked so much like Connor, and yet so different, but he supposed that was to be expected. Maybe one day, after all this was over, he could walk side by side with Connor himself, out in public, without it seeming weird at all.

He still had no idea what he felt about Cyber, if it was real or not. The fact that Connor's brother was there, acknowledging its existence was comforting, but it didn't mean the Company did exist. It just meant Connor's brother also believed it.

Regardless, he'd do what he could to find Connor, to bring him back alive. Connor had to be alive. He had to.

As the pair walked through the precinct, headed for the exit, Hank's attention was caught on the TV screen in the corner, the news report blaring something about a march going on Downtown. It was then he noticed the activity in the building, everyone running around, frantically moving. Hank wanted to pause and watch the report, but Nines was walking faster, leaving the precinct. Not wanting to be left behind, Hank suppressed his curiosity and followed the man.

The pair walked along in silence, neither saying a word even as they reached a sleek, stylish car, Nines entering the driver's side, leaving Hank to take the passenger seat. It had been a while since he'd been in an actual car, not counting the police vehicle that dragged him to the precinct the previous night. Longer since he'd sat passenger side. Nines put the key in the ignition and pulled out of the parking lot, onto the streets Hank knew better than the back of his hand.

God, how many times had he exited this parking lot, either leaving for a case, lunch, or home? How many years had this precinct been more familiar than his own home, he'd spent so much time there? Now, it felt almost foreign, Hank forgetting what life on the outside was like. Shit.

Hank was startled from his thoughts when Nines began to speak, his rich tones washing over him as Hank turned to face the man, who was staring out the windshield.

"So. You said you knew something about my brother's whereabouts?"

Hank hesitated, wondering if this was a good idea. Should he trust this man he had just met? His inner cop was screaming at him, telling him he was insane to trust someone he'd just met. But… but, he'd trusted Starlight, so soon after he'd met them. And that had turned out wonderfully. And Nines had seemed so sincere, when talking about Connor. Plus, it didn't hurt that the man reminded him of an older version of Connor. So, pushing past the unease, Hank began.

"I really don't know much, not any more than you guys would know. But… Connor and I had formulated a plan, to take down Cyber. It will happen at the CyberLife tower, somewhere, sometime before midnight. I don't know who will be doing the plan, but if we can meet them afterward, we might be able to ask them for Connor's whereabouts."

Oh, fuck. Hank did not like the look in Nines' eyes when he told him that, a self-satisfied expression that made the man look very pleased. It was gone a second later, but Hank couldn't shake the feeling that he'd just done something incredibly stupid. Oh, fuck, indeed.

"Really? And what plan did you formulate."

Ah. Shit. Hands clenched in his lap, Hank glared out the window, the curious tone grating on his nerves.

"I don't see how that affects our plans," Hank ground out, heart pounding. He noticed that Nines had made a turn that would bring them to the CyberLife tower, reaching the place in less than half an hour if the traffic was good. Fuck.

"I apologize, Hank. I hadn't meant to pry. I was simply curious. I hope I've not made you suspicious of me?"

Hank looked at Nines at that, trying not to freeze as those eyes landed on him, the light before them red. There was something behind the eyes that made Hank want to scream. Something dark. Was he imaging it? Shit, was he going insane? It sure felt like it.

Figuring it would be best not to tip the man off that he was feeling very suspicious, Hank just grinned, shaking his head.

"Nah, don't worry, kid. It's fine."

It felt wrong, to call the man the same nickname he'd given Connor, but he tried not to show it. Nines smiled tightly back, the blank look filling his eyes again as he looked out the windshield, the light turning green a second later.

As the pair drove in silence, Hank grew more and more upset. He was running through plans on how to stop the car, how to prevent Nines from entering the tower, etc. But part of him wondered if he was being ridiculous. Hank was a fucking excellent judge of character. It's what made him such a good cop. He knew that Nines hadn't been lying about wanting to help Connor. He fucking knew it. So why was his gut screaming at him?

After the longest car ride Hank had endured (outside of the one to and from Cole's funeral), they finally pulled into the CyberLife facility, Nines getting clearance to enter almost immediately. That set Hank's nerves on edge, wondering why they didn't seem surprised to see him.

The man parked near the front of the building, calmly getting out, casually adjusting the suit he wore. He didn't seem tense, or afraid. It seemed like he knew exactly what he was doing. Shit. Fucking… shit.

Just as Hank was about to make a run for it, eyes darting around for cover, Nines took out a gun and casually pointed it at Hank, face expressionless once more.

"I apologize, Hank, but I fear this is needed. Please, get out of the car. I'd hate to have to shoot you."

He sounded so casual, voice calm and cold. God fucking damn it. Should have listened to his fucking gut.

Teeth clenched tight, Hank stiffly exited the car, hands up as Nines rounded the vehicle, pressing the gun lightly to his back.

"Walk," the man demanded, pushing Hank forward. Scowling, Hank matched forward, mind racing with what he could do.

Maybe he could find a way to grab the gun? He'd have to wait until the man was distracted, but he'd been in plenty of situations where he'd had a gun pointed at him before. He'd been shot a couple times, but he always got the gun away from the other without sustaining any intense injuries.

Unfortunately, there was nothing he could do at the moment as Nines dragged him inside the building, the interior of the tower grandiose and rich with splendor. Hank instantly hated it, lip curling with distaste. Nines pushed him along, forcing him to go faster, towards an intense looking African American woman who was frowning deeply. As they got closer, Hank realized he recognized her. Ah, shit.

"Hello, Amanda. I brought the former Lieutenant, like you asked. He told me that they are planning something here, at CyberLife Tower," Nines relayed, voice devoid of all emotions, eyes staring blankly ahead. Like a fucking robot. Hank tried not to shudder with unease. Amanda frowned, nodding tightly.

"Yes, we figured. Connor arrived three minutes ago and is currently in the elevator, having killed the guards. He's currently on sub level 49, so I'd assume he's trying to relay a message. It seemed we were wrong to assume that traitor hadn't gotten the access key out before we found them. Markus and the others are currently marching downtown. If Connor is able to relay a message to every person under our control, it will destroy everything we have built. I trust that you will be able to stop him?"

God, she was fucking creepy. Hank stared in horror as Nines nodded tightly, turning to the other elevator on the other side of the room, dragging Hank by the arm, gun pressed against the side of his head. Shit.

"Oh course, Amanda. I will stop him."

"No matter what it takes?" She called, voice echoing in the vast room. Nines faltered at that, the first true error Hank had seen the man make, his eyebrows furrowing as he waited for the elevator to come.

"Yes, Amanda. Of course."

The elevator arrived then, not allowing the woman to reply back. Hank grunted as Nines tugged him, gun pressed harshly to his skull. Fucking hell.

"You bastard," Hank spat as he glared at the wall, wanting to struggle but knowing it would be no use. "You said you wanted to save him. Now you're ready to fucking kill him?"

Hank was furious his instincts had been so wrong. He let out a grunt of pain as Nines's hand tightened on his shoulder, gun pressing even further into his head.

"I am saving him," Nines intoned, voice even and emotionless. "This plan of his was doomed from the start. Once I stop him from following through, he will be able to come home, following some readjustment training."

Hank let out a bark of a laugh, no humor contained inside it. Oh, that was fucking rich. The bastard actually thought he was saving Connor. What a laugh. At least now he had confirmation that Cyber was, indeed, real. He couldn't make this shit up if he tried.

"You dumb fuck. You think they'll take him back? Chances are they'll kill him rather than retrain him, or whatever you're thinking. Hell, they might even kill you too. You're insane if you think they'll forgive him for this."

Nines tightened his grip farther, causing Hank to hiss in pain. Fucking hell. He could hear the safety get taken off the gun as well, causing his heart to race. He could sort of see Nines in the reflection on the glass, and he looked murderous, eyes blazing with fury. One of the only genuine emotions he'd seen from the man thus far.

"Once I stop him from this nonsense, once he remembers his place, they'll have to take him back. He's their greatest achievement. They placed their most advanced prototypes in him, he showed such promise. They won't kill him. They won't, " Nines stressed, glaring at the wall. Hank grunted but said nothing else. They were getting close to sub level 49, and he needed to focus on a plan. Any plan.

As the elevator doors opened, Nines rushed out, dragging Hank alongside him. Hank didn't have time to look around the room, but he found himself creeped out when he saw a brief glance of hundreds of people typing on computers, eyes blank, not even turning to face them as they passed them by. Fucking Christ. If he needed any more confirmation, this was it. Fucking shit.

Nines pushed them through the aisles, dragging Hank with him, gun to his head. Finally the pair stopped, Nines pushing him forward into a long row, gun still pointed at his head.

"Easy! Fucking piece of shit," Hank growled, eyes lifting off the ground. His heart stopped when he saw Connor, looking up from the desk he was hunched over, the previous owner of the desk staring blankly into space. Connor stared at Hank with horror in his eyes, mouth open in shock.

"Step back, Connor, and I'll spare him," Nines claimed, eyes hard on his brother. Connor turned his wide eyes to Nines, a look of such pain filling them that it was hard to look at. Shit. He had to say something.

"Sorry, Connor," Hank yelled, voice echoing in the vast room, "bastard said he wanted to help you."

He hoped this ended well.

As he looked Connor in the eye, the kid looking panicked for a second before smoothing over into that blank stare Hank hated, he wasn't sure it would.