TW: SUICIDAL IDEOLOGY
DOWNTOWN DETROIT- HAROLD'S 24/7 QUICK MART
29, JANUARY 2040 - 00:16:32
-WINTER-
POV: HANK
"CONNOR!".
The android goes limp in my arms, his eyes flutter closed and his artificial breath faltering before finally becoming non-existent. I watch as his LED, which was continuously flashing an angry red, goes blank on the side of his head. No... no this isn't happening, not again... I can't lose another one. "Please, no," I beg softly, my grip tightening on the lifeless bot's hand, still pressed against my face, "Connor... come on kid, don't do this to me".
But Connor is still, his face still with an expression of quiet bliss. His hand is clutching his gut, his hand shirt and face, covered with blue blood. From here I can tell the bullet basically obliterated his thirum pump, a vital part of Connor's anatomy, and nearly bi-component everything around it. Even with help on the way, there was little to no chance for his survival. My chest is heavy with guilt and anger, I'm angry at myself for once again not being able to protect the ones I care for the main reason I became a cop in the first place.
"I already call a medic, Hank," Chris says suddenly, rushing up to me from somewhere in the crowd, "Just hold on. They should be here any- oh shit,".
I don't respond, can't really. I'm caught somewhere between blinding rage and overwhelming sadness, silent tears streaming down my face without my knowledge or consent. I hold him tighter, wishing with everything I have that this is a dream, that this isn't happening, that I didn't lose another son. "Why didn't you listen?!" I curse silently through my teeth, trying desperately to hold back a sob, "You're so stupid, Connor,". I hold him, rocking his body slowly in my arms as the tears begin to fall."Why didn't you listen?" I say again, the snow beneath me continues to grow blue. Connor's blood has begun to pool under me soaking through my pants and staining my hands.
It makes me feel ill, but I continue to hold the cold, lifeless android in my arms.
I close my eyes as flashes of the accident force there way into my head, the colors of the blood sprayed around me flickering between red and blue, between Connor and Cole.
Cole is dead.
Connor is dead.
Everything is numb.
Hands.
Feet.
Face.
Tongue.
"Hank?" Chris says, his voice thin and full of a mix of emotions.
I feel his hand on my shoulder and flinch.
"Hey... take it easy, okay. It's going to be okay".
It's going to be okay
It's going to be okay
It's going to be okay
It's going to be okay
It's going to be okay
Is it going to be okay?
It's going to be okay
It's going to be okay
Dad, Don't let me die, Cole says
Don't let me die, Dad, Connor says.
DON'T LET US DIE
DON'T LET US DIE
I DON'T WANT TO DIE
"Hank!".
I blink and shut my eyes, shaking my head.
The voices in my head ring louder than they have in over a year, and it's nearly impossible to ignore.
"He's gone," I mumble, coldly and distant, "He's gone and I coulda saved him".
"Hank… he was shot point blank. Not even a human could survive something like that," Chris says, trying his best to keep a calm demeanor. "Maybe he'll come back? Ya know... like Terminator?"
I know he's just trying to make me feel better... but it's not working.
Connor's not coming back...
This is the thing that Connor dreaded most about his own death if it should ever occur, he knew that, being deviant and cut off from Cyberlife, he wouldn't be granted a new body.
This Connor, number 51… was the last of his kind.
The last Connor there'll ever be.
And it's my fault he's dead.
"Hey, if we're all done weeping over that plastic, I'd like to get home," Gavin says, cutting through the already cold conversation.
"Shit, Gavin. Have some fucking respect," Chris says, grumbling in distaste, "Man just lost his son".
"It's a fucking piece of plastic, Hank. A machine, meant to be used up and thrown out, it's not anything more than merchandise. You shouldn't cry over it… you know what you should cry over? The fact that you almost killed that little girl's father right in front of her eyes just because your plastic pet got hurt. She's probably traumatized cause of it. That thing isn't your son, Hank. Cole was your son… you were just using this thing as a fucking replacement".
"Gavin!".
I don't say anything for a moment, unbelievable anger welling up inside me. "You fucking take that back, you asshole," I yell, snapping up to my feet and grabbing the other man by the shirt, lifting him a few inches off the ground, "You could have called for help, but your bitch ass did nothing! And Connor was just as much my son and Cole was… and nothing could ever replace Cole! You hear me?! NOTHING! Now, give me one fucking good reason why I shouldn't blow your fucking head off right now".
The younger detective's face practically goes white as he strains and struggles in my grasp, chuckling nervously, "Heh, you don't have the balls".
"Hank! Put him down okay? I know you're upset but this isn't any way to solve it!" Chris says, trying to step in between us.
"Stay outta this, Chris!" I yell again, drawing my gun and pointing it against Gavin's head, "You feelin' lucky punk?".
He stops fighting, a cocky smile on his face as he holds his arms out in surrender, "Do it, Hank," Gavin says, "I fuckin' dare ya".
I grimace, baring my teeth a little as I grip the gun.
"Pakow!" I say, mimicking a gunshot.
The barrel taps against his skull as I drop Gavin to the ground, lowering my gun as well. "Don't think he didn't tell me about the time you pulled this same shit. The kid couldn't sleep for a week,".
My voice is uncharacteristically calm and cold, everybody knows the outburst is coming.
"You're fucking crazy old man!" he says, attempting to fix his shirt, "I'm gonna go to Fowler with this shit, you'll get fired for su-".
I cut him off before he can finish, sending a punch straight to his face. I grumble slightly, satisfied when I hear the soft crunch of his nose breaking against my knuckles. He goes down like a light, Chris watching in half awe and half fear. "Lieutenant," he says, "You really shouldn't have done that".
"He shouldn't have fucked with me".
Chris looks down at the now unconscious and bleeding Gavin.
"What do I do?".
"Tell 'em he passed out at the sight of all the blood and fell on his face," I say, walking back over to Connor's body, "He's done it before, the prick. He'd believe that".
"And the Captain?".
"I don't give a fuck anymore… just get out of here" I hiss, bending down in the snow and pulling Connor back into my lap, brushing away the soft waves of his synthetic hair, "I've got you, son… it's okay. Dad's here".
Chris sighs and once again places a hand on my shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze. "Take care of yourself, lieutenant. The other officers will look after Gavin for ya, okay?".
I don't say anything, continuing to watch over Connor even though there's no real need. I just hold him… like I held Cole that fateful night on the highway.
"Dad's here… it's going to be alright. Everything is going to be alright" I whisper blankly, tears continuing to roll down my cheeks as I hold his limp body in my arms, "Dad's here, Connor...daddy's here".
I don't know how much time passes, but next thing I know there's another android standing beside me, and a small part of me hopes it's Connor… coming at me with his cheesy I'm the android sent by Cyberlife shit. But it's not. The bod that stands beside me is a basic medical unit AP700… four to be exact. two tend to the man I shot while the others tend to Connor.
"Hello…" one of them begins, softly and warm like, "I am here to assist you".
"He's dead" I spit, "Fucker over there shot him".
The girl is silent for a moment, LED flashing a momentary red.
"I'm… very sorry for your loss," she continues, looking me once over, "We are going to take him to the hospital anyway. Is that alright with you?"
I scoff slightly and nod, hesitantly placing Connor back down in the snow as the androids place him on a stretcher and load him into the back of an ambulance.
"You are injured," the other AP700 says, pointing to my hand.
I shrug it off, "Just take care of my son would ya?".
She nods, "Of course, sir".
With a sigh, I follow Connor into the ambulance, flinching when the door slams shut and the engine starts. It's on its way to an android hospital, even though I know… we all know… Connor isn't going to come back, even if they replace his damaged parts. It's a gruesome and grueling trip, flashing of Cole and Connor flipping in and out of my mind. One second it's Connor lying on the stretcher, bleeding blue, and the next it's Cole, bleeding red. And others… they are one in the same. I have to shut my eyes for a majority of the trip, the AP700 having to coax me out of the vehicle once we arrive.
"Is there anything you can do?" I ask, praying to god that there's at least something that can save him, "Anything at all?".
The AP700 shakes her head, "I'm afraid not, sir. Usually, when an android dies we can sometimes recover its memory for possible transfer but… he seems to have many safety locks and firewalls protecting any and all retained information. You said he was a prototype, yes?".
I nod.
"Have you considered contacting Cyberlife? Perhaps they can break through the coding and save him. Until then…".
I raise an eyebrow waiting for her to finish. "Until then, what?"
The girl sighs.
"What would you like us to do with the body?".
DETROIT- ANDROID HOSPITAL
29, JANUARY 2040 - 00:19:00
I'm handed a small back of Connor's things, his wallet, badge, and coin, which was hidden within the pockets of his two- sizes too big jacket. I hold it in my hands, running my thumb over the cold smooth metal, sighing unevenly. I clench my fist slightly and wince, my knuckles bruised and battered from punching Gavin.
"Will you be okay going home alone, Lieutenant?" The android at the front desk asks me as I sign a few forms, allowing the hospital to hold his body until I can set up a proper funeral. A funeral for my android son, I think to myself, what has the world come to. Hopefully, the department will give him a traditional police burial… lord knows the kid deserves it.
"I'll be fine," I lie, not really knowing what fine is anymore, "I'll be back in a few days to get him".
The man at the desk nods and takes the papers back as I hand it to him, "Alright… I've already called a taxi to take you back home. Please take care of yourself in the meantime".
I ignore that statement, tucking the bag into my coat and slinking out of the hospital, the coin still in my hands. I can understand why Connor would play with it so much… it's oddly relaxing. But now… it just hurts, brings forth far to many painful memories. I tuck it safely in my breast pocket, not wanting to lose such a precious thing, despite the bittersweet memories it holds. A familiar numbness fills my chest and mind as I stand on the side of the road, unsure if I should wait for the taxi or just walk back to the station.
The cold weather would be a welcome distraction from my thoughts and feelings.
What am I going to do now…
What's the fucking point…
I've got nothing now.
"God, I need a fucking drink," I mutter, running my now faded thirium stained hand through my hair, nearly forgetting that it's there. I haven't had the urge to drink in months, Connor having helped wean me out of alcoholism. Who'd of thunk he'd be the one to drive me back into that cesspool of self-depreciation and depression.
I force out a dry chuckle and swallow the lump forming in my throat, watching as an automotive taxi pulls up in front of me.
I sigh and hop in, rerouting the destination to Jimmy's Bar. Haven't been there is a while… it won't be too suspicious for me to drink my feelings away again. But part of me knows that I shouldn't, part of me knows that I should go home, get some proper rest, eat some decent food, but the overwhelming need to revert into my old habits win logic over. I shut my eyes as a memory replays itself in my head, one from the first few weeks after the revolution.
/\
FLASHBACK BEGINS
"You really shouldn't drink so much, Lieutenant," Connor said, "If you continue to drink at the rate you are going, your life expectancy will be cut drastically short".
"That's the point, asshole," I said, pouring myself yet another shot of whiskey.
"I wish you wouldn't joke like that. Your life does have value, Hank… even if you don't believe it".
I huffed, "Who said it's a joke?".
His LED turned red for a moment, and he turns his head as if to shield it from me.
I sighed, "If you've got something to say to me, say it. I'm a grown ass man, I'm pretty sure I can take an insult from an android… been doin' it for a while now".
Connor was silent for a moment before he walked up to me, grabbed the glass out of my hand and dumped it on the floor.
"Hey, what the fuck Connor?!".
"I want you to stop drinking," He said, sounding more stern and serious than I've ever seen.
"Well, that's not how you go about doin' it okay? Now, fuck off, would ya? Why do ya even care?".
"I don't want you to die, Hank," He continued, "If you die, I will be alone. And I do not wish to be alone".
I furrowed my eyebrows, noticing his LED was still red. "You fucking serious?".
"Yes,".
"Fuckn' hell, Connor. I'm not going to die, okay? Not for a long time".
"Do you promise?" Connor asks, his eyes big and owlish.
Christ this kid is persistent.
"Kid, I can't control the natural order of things… but...fuck, I guess I could cut back on the drinking a little. That make you feel better?".
He nods, LED returning to a soft natural blue.
"Yes… very much so"
I chuckle a little and stand up, putting the whiskey bottle back up on the cupboards, "There… ya happy?" I'd muttered turning to Connor to see him… smiling. It was odd and awkward but made me feel pretty damn good. "Pfft, fucking android is making me soft" I muttered, trying to mask my own smile. Maybe having an android around wouldn't be such a bad idea.
FLASHBACK ENDS
\/
Would the same rules still apply now that Connor was gone? Hell, I don't know. Not much left to live for now… I mean, one of the main reasons I got my shit together was for Connor… not myself. He gave me a reason to live, he gave me a reason to want to be a better father, he gave me that second chance...and now… what do I do? I shut my eyes again and try to shake all these thoughts out of my head, but no matter how hard I try… I can't escape them.
When the taxi finally pulls to a stop in front of the bar, I stumble out, staggering on my feet despite not even being slightly intoxicated. I'm going to fix that, I think, pushing the bar door open and finding my usual seat up front.
"Woah, surprised to see you in here Hank. Good day on the job?" Jimmy asks with a smile, reminding me that I'd come here occasionally for a celebratory drink.
I grumble a little and refuse to answer, watching he moves on and serves me my drink.
"Take that as a no, eh?" he continues, setting out another glass beside mine.
I stare at the blue liquid with a confused stare, "What's that?".
"For Connor,".
Fuck…
"I heard the kid going on about how Cyberlife had developed a thirium based drink for androids to get drunk on… figured it's about time I opened my business up some more. This one's on me tonight… so, where is he?".
Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck.
"Hank?".
I ignore him and take the shot, slamming the glass back down on the bar.
Jimmy jumps, startled by the noise.
"The fuck, man?".
"Just shut up and give me another shot, Jimmy" I snap, "Don't ask questions".
Seeming to catch onto my foul mood, Jimmy nods and does as he's told, pouring me another drink, "Alright... I'll bring you a beer".
"Make it two," a voice says from the doorway.
I don't need to look up to know it's Fowler, probably staring at me with a disappointed look.
"Jeffery, if you've come to fire me, do it on Monday," I mutter, "I really don't want to hear your shit right now… just let me grieve in peace".
"I'm not here to fire you, Anderson," he says, pulling up a chair beside me, grabbing the beer Jimmy hands him, "Can't a man have a few drinks with his bud?".
I scoff, "Bud? We haven't hung out in years".
"I know… and I'm sorry about that. But we're hanging out now so…".
I simply roll my eyes and take a swig of my beer, trying to ignore him too.
There's a moment of silence between us, sounds of tonight's game blasting in the background.
"Miller told me what happened today," Jeffery says, taking hold of his own beer and staring at it, "You going to be okay?".
"Yeah… I'm going to be just fine," I spit sarcastically, "My son died in my fucking arms… sure I'm going to be just fine".
More silence.
"If it means anything, the kid did a good job today," Fowler says, "He was a damn fine detective too… one of the best".
"That's putting it mildly" I mutter taking another swig.
Jeffery chuckles softly and gives me a reassuring pat on the back, squeezing my shoulder.
"I'm going to give you a month off with pay, alright? Take time to yourself… this time you grieve properly instead of forcing yourself to work".
"Jeffery, you don't-".
"Trust me… it's fine… I'll give Reed a few of your cases in the meantime… maybe that'll straighten him out a bit, teach him a lesson".
"Kinda already did that" I mumble behind my drink.
"How about this… you take this vacation and I'll just happen to lose Reed's complaints form" he says with a small smile.
I sigh and shake my head.
"Fine…".
"Atta boy," Fowler says, taking one last drink from his bottle before standing up, "I brought you your car, ya left it at the scene. Now, come on, let's get you home".
"I'm not ready yet," I say just loud enough for me to hear. I don't I'll ever be ready. How can I go home like nothing happened? Like I didn't lose my child… how am I going to explain this to Sumo? God, that dog is going to be heartbroken. I'm heartbroken. Just thinking about walking down that empty hallway, passing what used to be Cole's old room, and now Connor's old room sends a sharp pain right to my chest.
"Hank?".
"I can drive myself, Fowler," I say, finishing off the last bit of my beer, signaling Jimmy for another one, "I don't need you to babysit me".
"I'm concerned, Hank… that's all," he says, patting me on the back again, "Just don't drink too much alright, roads are slippery tonight".
All I can do is mutter a half-assed response.
"Take care of yourself".
I don't know if I can anymore, I admit, nursing my second beer of the night.
DETROIT- JIMMY'S BAR
29, JANUARY 2040 - 00:21:46
I leave the bar three hours and 4 and a half beers later, once again staggering outside into the cold. My mind and chest is heavy with anger and grieve, all I want to do is forget… forget Connor ever existed, forget Cole ever existed forget that anything ever happened. I know that's a horrible thing to say about my sons but I don't know what else to do… what else to feel. I force myself into my car, dreading the drive home, but I know… eventually… I'd have to go back.
"Alright, Hank…" I mutter taking a few deep breaths before shoving the key in the ignition, "You got this… nice and slow".
Once I turn on the engine, I sigh, "You ready to go, Con-".
I pause, cutting my words off… they were said out of pure instinct… the android having always been at my side. I clench my jaw and shut my eyes, trying desperately not to cry again, but I honestly don't think there'd be enough tears in the world to match how I'm feeling.
Two Sons…
Two children not long for this world.
A Boy Who Never Reached Manhood And A Man Who Never had a Childhood.
It's a fucking tragedy.
I pull away from the bar without another word, driving blindly through the snowy streets of Detroit, my hands shaking and my mind swimming.
All I can think of is… Why?
Why me?
What did I do to deserve both my son's death?
Is this my punishment for something?
Living knowing that I failed them both?
I grip the steering wheel harder.
Why can't I just be happy?
That's all I want, that's all I ever wanted.
I just wanted to be okay with what happened to Cole, just accept that there wasn't anything I could have done to prevent it. But now with Connor, it is all my fault. I should have stopped him… if I did he'd be sitting right here next to me with that dumb, awkward smile, doing his stupid coin tricks. Instead, he's locked in the basement of the hospital, out of sight, out of view... out of mind. It's like the world is trying to make me forget him.
I push on the gas a little harder, and the car goes faster.
Maybe… part of me wants to forget. I'd make things a hell of a lot easier just to forget that Connor ever existed. But I can't forget and I never will… and that's the hardest part of it all.
No matter how hard I try, I'm never going to be able to forget and move on from this.
Even if I consider going to Cyberlife to save him, who's to say they won't fuck around with his memories, continue to try to resume control of their precious test subject? It's a risk I'm not willing to take, and if somehow they do return him to me, it won't be Connor. It won't be the real Connor, my Connor. It'd just be a piece of plastic with his face on it. It won't be my son.
"Fuck..." I mutter, wiping away more tears as I fight the overwhelming urge to just give up now, "Fuck, Connor… why you? Why not me?".
I'd take his place in a heartbeat, in a fucking heartbeat, both Cole, and Connor.
I'd give my little Cole the chance to grow up into the man I wish he could be, and I'd give Connor the chance to live the life he'd fought so hard and nearly died for.
But Cole would be alone with no one to raise him.
And Connor...
*sigh*
The kid wouldn't last a week without me…
He's sorta made it a point that he doesn't really have a reason to live if I'm gone, his new self-proclaimed purpose being taking care of and being my friend, someone to lean on, someone to count on, someone to have drinks with, someone to work with, and someone to call 'son'.
It always scared me when he talked like that… so I made him promise he wouldn't bring any harm to himself no matter what happens, if I die on the job, on my own or even by my own hand, I made him promise that he'd keep on living for the person that mattered the most… himself.
Who knows if Connor would have actually listened, being the stubborn android he was.
But I guess it doesn't matter.
All I can hope to do is follow my own words… and keep on living for myself.
Eventually, I find myself in front of my house… the lights are off and the house looks empty and cold. Just like I feel. I can hear Sumo barking from inside, having already heard my car pull up the drive. He'd be waiting for Connor to take him on a walk, having had postponed it when we got called in.
I shut my eyes and place my head against the wheel, wincing when I accidentally sound the horn.
Get out of the car, Hank…
That's all you have to do.
I pull away and sigh, pulling my key free from the ignition.
Open the door, get out of the car.
Easy…
I push the door open and slowly lift myself out of the vehicle, using the siding to hold myself up.
Easy, easy…
I make my way up to the front of the car, my hand pressing over a dent in the front paneling. For a moment, I pause… staring at it intently. Despite having a literal supercomputer in his head, Connor doesn't make a good driver… I doubted the kid had ever seen a car like mine before we met, doubt they still existed. But alas, trying to teach an android to drive stick is more difficult than I thought, and teaching Connor, the most high-strung, anxiety-ridden, nervous kid I'd ever met made the task twice as hard but ten times as funny.
Pfft, the first thing he did was drive the car straight into the mailbox.
A small smile lifts the edge of my lips as I run my hand over the small dent the incident left… but the smile doesn't last when I realize that I won't get any more memories like that… or, any at all.
"Fuck," I mutter, continuing to force my way to the house and up the slippery steps, using the side of the building for more support. I manage to get the door unlocked and opened as I stagger inside, having to push Sumo away as he tries to tackle me, probably displeased that we'd left him alone for so long.
Woof
Woof
Woof, he barks.
"Leave me alone, Sumo," I say, immediately making my way into the kitchen where I grab a bottle of whiskey I'd left hidden in the back of the cabinet, "I'm not in the mood".
He obeys… and moves straight to the door, scratching at the wooden frame.
Bark
Bark
Bark Bark
Bark
He's waiting for someone.
For Connor.
Bark
Bark
Bark
Bark
"He's not coming back," I mutter, popping the cap off the bottle, taking a long swig as the liquid burns down my throat, leaning against a wall and slowly letting myself slide down to the floor.
Sumo continues to bark, and I continue to drink.
Bark
Drink
Bark
Drink
Bark
Drink
The dog rushes up to me after a while, realizing something is wrong.
Woof, woof, Sumo barks, ramming his large head against my legs, trying to pull my attention to the door. He whines softly and continues to bark, woof!
"Hush!" I snap growing annoyed at his constant whining even though I know he can't help it. I take another wig and push him away, feeling anger start to bubble up in my head.I'm already drunk and angry… this is just making it worse.
Sumo continues to bark, this time grabbing the fabric of my pants, tugging and pulling at me.
Bark
Bark
Bark Bark
Bark
After a moment, I snap, yelling as I throw the bottle of whiskey clear across the room, watching as it shatters against a wall. "SHUT UP!" I scream, "He's not coming back! Do you understand me?! Connor is dead! He's not fucing coming back, he's not coming back!".
Sumo flinches and yells when the glass shatters, looking up at me as if I were crazy…
Maybe I am…
He lets out a soft woof, scared and confused by my words.
Tears start to stream down my cheeks as I continue to yell, "He's gone, Sumo. He's dead… Connor is dead!".
The more and more I admit it… the more and more I can't handle the reality.
"He's dead!".
Connor is dead.
"He's not going to come back!".
He's not coming back.
"We're never going to see him again!"
I'm never going to see my son again.
"I…" I choke on my words, a sob catching in my throat, "I can't handle it".
The world is spinning, blinking in and out of existence and I can tell I'm about to blackout... but I don't want to. I don't want to wake up in a world where I'm alone again. I don't want to live in a world without Cole or Connor.
I don't want to live anymore.
I continue to sob, gripping my hair as I try to pull myself out of this state.
Live for him, Hank… live for both of them.
But the words don't make a difference.
And that terrifies me.
I need to get out of here…
Sitting here crying on the floor for god knows how long is going to help me… but running away isn't helping either.
But what choice do I have?
Everything Connor has done for me… I'm going to throw all that away with the pull of a trigger.
I need to get out of here…
Sumo, who'd given up on his attempts to find the absent Android, turns his attention to me, whining and nuzzling my hands, probably sensing my utter dilemma. "He's gone, Sumo…" I cry, grabbing on to the big saint bernard as I cry, "He's really gone… my boy is gone".
I need to get out of here…
The dog whines and nuzzles closer to me, seeming to get the gist of my words and what the mean.
"It's my fault… I should have stopped him".
"Please, Dad".
His last words ring in my head, over and over.
I cry harder, trying to push the anger and anxiety down.
"I'm so sorry, Connor," I say, "I'm so so sorry".
A familiar numbness fills my body as I cry, my hands and body shaking.
I need to get out of here…
"I need to get out of here,".
"I can't do this anymore…"
DETROIT- HOME
30, JANUARY 2040 - 00:02:15 AM
I don't know how long I sit there crying, but at some point, I open my eyes and see the pitch blackness of my kitchen, Sumo still sitting loyally next to me. The pain is ever present and becoming too much to handle with each passing second. Blowing a puff of warm air over my face, I slowly force myself up to my feet, swaying unevenly and I use the wall for support.
The soft woof of Sumo beside me is enough to tell me that he's following closely. "Good dog," I mutter absently, patting the top of his head as I make my way over to my room. I get a few steps down the hallway, having to ignore the dim glow of the fish tank as I pass Connor's room.
Don't think about it…
Soon, you won't have to.
I shut my eyes and sigh, pushing forward.
Once I'm in the room, I go straight for my dresser, opening the top drawer and pulling out the small handgun I keep in there, having left my work issued revolver at the crime scene.
This would have to do.
Sumo looks up at me and whines, knowing what the 'game' I'm about to play entities, except this time there would be no game… just the real thing.
I look down at the dog and flash him a broken smile. "It's okay, Sumo… everything is going to be okay". Pulling my attention back to the gun, I open the chamber and find I have a single bullet, left over from the night we went to the murder at the Eden Club.
"You were lucky, Lieutenant," Connor had said, "The next shot would have killed you"
In that moment, I'd been upset that this single bullet hadn't ended my life... but in the long run, I was glad it didn't.
Life is fucking funny that way.
After Cole died I lost my reason live, but then along came Connor and I found that reason again… but now that he's gone I have nothing… no one I care for. I close my eyes and look at the gun again, giving the barrel a quick spin.
"If androids have a heaven… I hope you're there, Connor" I whisper, hoping that, if there even is such a thing as the afterlife for both humans and androids, that we'd be able to meet again, "I'm sure Cole would like to meet his little brother".
I sigh and click the gun closed, shutting the drawer and exiting the room with a little bit of misplaced determination. Sumo follows closely, whining anxiously at me, nudging my legs again. He knows what's going on, but he doesn't know what to do about it.
I get back to the kitchen and place the handgun on the counter. Not here, I decide, not wanting to put Sumo through this, "You're a good boy, Sumo. You know that?".
He wags his tail and woofs softly.
"Good boy".
I blink slowly, looking around the empty, dark house.
With a sigh, I stumble over to where I through my whiskey bottle, quickly and carelessly cleaning up the shattered glass with my hands, that way Sumo will be safer once I'm gone. I need to keep in mind Connor's fish too, I'd hate if something bad happened to them because of me, so I make a mental note to leave a letter asking whoever finds it to take care of the animals.
It never occurred to me to leave a letter or anything like that… it's not like anyone would miss or go looking for me (aside from Sumo of course) but now… I feel as if it's something I should do.
Like I owe it to people to let them know what happened.
Why I'm doing this…
Even if the reason is obvious.
"It's okay, Hank…" I mutter, taking the broken glass and throwing it out, ignoring the blood that seeps through the cuts on my hands, "Soon it won't matter".
Once I'm finished cleaning the glass, I wash my hands, feeling the itch of the now invisible thirium on my skin, mixed in with my own blood.
Numb…
Everything is….
Blissfully numb…
I almost enjoy it, but the small voice is trying to stop me but it's just not enough… this has been a long time coming. I dry my hands and wrap a towel around the cuts to stop the bleeding before finally dragging my ass over to the table, flicking on the light and grabbing a spare sheet of paper and pen left lying there.
What do I write? And to whom?
I guess it doesn't really matter. Once someone realized I'm missing, people will come looking, and when they come looking they'll find this. So, with a defeated sigh, I press the pen to the paper and begin to write.
To Whom It May Concern-
My sons are gone.
Not much left for me here
Please take care of Sumo and the fish.
I'm sorry everyone
-Jenny Forgive Me
I leave an address at the bottom beside my name, suddenly aware of the damp spots collecting on the paper. I wipe the tears away quickly and sigh sharply, wondering if I should just scrap the note. "I'm so sorry, Jenny" I whisper, having not uttered that name in years, "I just can't do this again". I close my eyes for a moment, grabbing the coin I'd tucked away in my pocket and placing it beside the tear-stained paper. After a moment, I leave the note on the table, in a place where it can easily be found and be sure to fill Sumo's food bowl, unsure of how long he might be alone.
"Be a good boy, okay?" I tell him, patting his large head with a rough hand, "You know I love you right?".
He woofs softly, pressing his head further into my hand as if to get a little bit more affection out of me before turning to his food. "Good boy," I mutter, stalking off to Connor's room, pausing at the threshold.
This was Cole's room…
It'd taken a few months for me to build up the courage to actually clean it out and let Connor sleep here, feeling bad that I'd basically forced him to reside on the couch. He didn't mind staying there, acting like the room was something too precious to me to even think about taking it over. I'd reassured him that it wasn't a big deal and that he should have a room of his own, with is own things.
Huh, the kid was confused as to why I was being so kind to him, allowing him to stay with me. It was kinda sad that he didn't understand the concept of 'finding a family' or even the fact that he'd become part of me and Sumo little family. Huh, poor Connor thought just because he was a bit different and new to the whole 'being human' thing, he couldn't be part of a family.
But I assured him...
"Family can be anything, Connor. It could be an old grizzled cop, his robot son, and a big wooly dog".
That was the first time I called Connor my son, and it sent a shock to us both. I just wish… I just wish I'd called him that more often. It's just another thing I'd never be able to repent for.
I sigh and take a step into his room, stepping over a few books Connor'd left lying around. His fish (I never could keep track of what species they were) were a gift from me to him on his first birthday, a special surprise that ended up in the android practically bouncing off the walls with glee and excitement. He'd named the bright colorful tropical fish Amelia, Rose, and Blaire, never really explaining the reasoning behind the names other than 'it felt right'.
Closing my eyes again, I grab the small carton of their food, sprinkling just the right amount inside the water, watching as the fish shoot out of their hiding places and start munching on the flakey pellets.
"Silly fish," I mutter, softly patting the edge of the tank, "I'll miss you too".
With everything finally in place, I leave the room exactly how I left it, making my way back into the kitchen and grab the gun I'd left lying there. One shot, one pull of the trigger, and it'd all be over, as complicated and as simple as that. Heaving yet another sigh, I give my last goodbyes to Sumo, kissing him on the head and thanking him for being such a good dog, sticking with me through the worst of the worst.
"I'll miss you boy," I say, standing up and walking to the door, watching as he follows me. I shoo him away, telling him that he can't come with me on this journey and step out the door. Sumo cries, barks, and whines from behind the now closed and locked door, but I sadly ignore it and walk back to my car and simply sit there for a moment, letting the bitter cold chip away at my tear-stained face. I take one last look at the house, remembering when I first bought it, how new the paint smelled and how bright the future seemed. Now there's nothing left inside but ghosts.
The engine starts without a problem and I begin my drive to the address left on the letter, wanting people to at least know where the body is. Perhaps I should call someone too, just so parents won't find a frozen dead man on their way to the park with their children… it's needless to put more people through a trauma like that. Thankfully, the roads are empty so no one can see the slight swerving of my car since I'm still slightly drunk. Being a cop and all, I know I should be more careful, I know I should Know better, but the roads are bare of all other traffic and I really could care less about my own safety considering what I'm about to do.
I close my eyes and rub away the tears, which have been streaming down my face for god knows how long. The gun is beside me on the passenger seat, sitting there and glistening slightly in the moonlight… the park seemed like an appropriate place to do it, it's a special place for Cole and me, and an… odd place for Connor. I'd nearly shot him that night, something I still greatly regret, but… that was also the night I began to realize that there was more to Connor than met the eye. It was as if, he was pre-made with emotions, but he chose to live in denial about who he really was. The emotions were there, but… he was repressing them, the 'deviancy' in him occasionally popping up when he was faced with a difficult decision. And everything clicked on the TV station roof, with his infamous line:
"I felt it die... like I was dying. I was SCARED"
He sounded so broken about it and I wish I'd done more to make him feel better other than get pissed he's disobeyed my orders, which honestly should have been the first sign of his deviancy. I mean, Connor was just a kid, 3 months old at that point, and he'd already been shot full of holes multiple times. No wonder the poor kid was scared of the damn things, refusing to have one on him unless absolutely necessary.
I sigh.
I shouldn't be thinking about this… not right now. Just thinking about Connor covered in his own blood makes me feel sick, and the alcohol makes it worse. "Don't worry, son," I say, "I'll see you both soon".
Another sigh, as I look back up at the road.
And I barely have enough time to slam on the breaks.