November 13, 2038

After killing Nick Weaver, Andy had been given time off work. She needed to rest, collect her thoughts, and wait for the initial investigation into her actions, though Captain Fowler was confident it wouldn't take long.

The department was feeling her absence. No matter how people felt about Andy personally, she was a fellow officer, and she'd almost lost her life. What happened left them all feeling less safe, and there was anger, too. The stress was getting to everyone; it left each of them with a feeling of walking on eggshells. Hank's less favorable temperament than usual wasn't helping, and even Connor's own upset seemed to spread through the bullpen.

Hank was on the phone with one of his contacts, checking in on his appointment to meet with Elijah Kamski, the creator of androids and founder of CyberLife. It was an impressive feat - even Connor wouldn't have been able to secure such a meeting. If anything, it was a testament to how deeply the long-time lieutenant's connections ran.

Connor was waiting for him when Lieutenant Richards emerged from the SID office. He approached their desks, standing at Connor's side rather than Hank's. "There's something I need your help with," He said in a whisper, gesturing over his shoulder.

With furrowed brows, Connor stood and followed. They walked past the SID office, past the interrogation rooms, and into a room Connor had never before entered. The tech lab at the department was a small, sterile room with packed shelves at the back, and busy desks along the right wall. A row of stations lined the left, equipment that CyberLife had long since found ways to minimize and implement into Connor himself.

In the middle of the room was an exam table, and on its surface lay a recently deactivated LM100. The sight of Nick's assistant, Sam, drew Connor's memories to a day earlier - one of an unfamiliar deviant standing in the middle of a subway station, and another of Andy clutching a bleeding chest and pleading for a miracle.

A technician sat at a desk in the corner, clicking away at her keyboard. She looked back when they entered, and Richards waved at her, "Take a break. Get some coffee."

She sent a glance between the two before leaving the room. Richards stepped around the table to stand at the opposite side, and turned to face Connor. "My techs say we can reactivate it, but they don't think it'll last long enough to give us anything," He leaned back and held up a hand to Connor, his frown turning nervous, "I hear androids can probe memories."

"Yes, that's something I can do," Connor nodded.

It was not a subtle request, and Richards almost appeared sorry for asking. He was quiet, pondering on his concern. "If I could, I'd reactivate it with Hope. Let her... talk to it," He shrugged, unsure of whether or not that would have done anything for his detective. "But it's got information that could help us now that Perkins has the guys Hart gave us. I think that sounds pretty good for closure."

Connor didn't know what to say. "Are you asking my opinion, Lieutenant?"

Shaking his head, Richards was quick to protest, "No, no. I'm gonna hate this either way." He reached for a device sitting by Sam's head, picking up a new regulator pump. "The tech brought in a temporary part, but uh, I don't know how to turn these things on..."

Connor moved closer and took the pump from Richards. Sam's chest plate was open, revealing his inner workings and the slot in which a new biocomponent would fit. The regulator pump clicked into place, and it was but a few seconds before the LED in Sam's temple powered on.

When Sam first opened his eyes, he was slow and dazed. "Where..." He stared at the ceiling, as if he would find answers within the tiles. Finally his gaze drifted to the side; when he landed on Connor, he stiffened, and lifted his head. "You," He whispered. He tried to push himself up, but his arms shook, unable to bear the weight. He started to work himself into a frenzy as he asked, "Where is she? Where's Nick?"

Connor froze. The panic Sam was exuding got to him, and briefly he found himself back in the subway station. When he offered no answers, Richards leaned forward. "Weaver's dead and Andy's okay. You saved her," He assured, entering Sam's line of sight.

This left Sam skeptical, but as no one was pointing a gun at him, he wouldn't argue just yet. "Can I see her?" He asked, just above a whisper.

"Right after you help us," Richards lied with the same level of assurance he had speaking the truth. "We need to know what you know."

Maybe it would have fooled another android, but Sam had seen enough under Nick's wing. He'd seen enough before Nick, too, and he knew what Richards really meant. He cycled through the stages of grief faster than anyone could see, and then asked Connor, "I'm not going to make it, am I?"

Having regained his own voice, Connor offered the android his hand and answered, "You don't have long. I would like to access your memory."

Sam stared at the open hand. It was a big thing to ask, to intrude upon someone's privacy in the most ultimate of ways. It was just as big a goal, to finish what he and Andy started. For that, he would do it. "Will you tell her..." He stopped himself, realizing no message was good enough, long enough, for what he wanted to say. "Will you thank her for me?"

It would have to do.

It wasn't a message Connor understood - Sam had no hope for reactivation, so what was there to be grateful about? - but Connor didn't have to understand it. He nodded, making yet another promise he intended to keep.

"We're running out of time."

He glanced up at Richards' voice, and it was at that moment Sam reached out and clapped his hand around Connor's arm. On instinct, Connor returned the grip, and as his skin faded away to the white layer underneath, memories flooded through him.

Nick Weaver beats a weakened, broken man to the ground. Connor - no, Sam - watches from the corner. They call out to him for help, curse his name through a bloody cough. Sam stays where he is. Watching. Every blow is deserved, every broken bone representing a different life they ruined. This must be what justice feels like. "You want to sit here and rot, or you want to come work for me?" The gun at Nick's waistband gleams, and the other men hovering in the doorway cast shadows over a dying body. Sam won't get far if he runs. No, this is not justice. This is escaping one lifetime of servitude for another.

There were hundreds of memories, each containing hundreds of bits of information being uploaded into Connor's mind. He saw dealers and buyers, followed Nick across the city, took phone calls and set up appointments. He heard whispers of desperate deviants, each one searching for a sanctuary that he would never see, for he stood faithfully in a shadow that left chaos and fear in its wake. Sam was numb to it all. For his own sake, he had to be.

Andy stands beside him. She asks where he came from, how long he's been around, who he was before this. She scoffs when the answers are vague. No one asks those questions. No one cares to. She is the first to be interested. He looks forward to more questions, as if he is learning who he is alongside her. It's like seeing color for the first time.

He stares at her badge. For Nick, it's betrayal; for Sam, it's an opportunity. She tells him she wants to help and that she has everyone's best interests at heart. She is convincing. Maybe Jericho isn't impossible. He will bear all of this a little while longer, on that hope.

It was an instantaneous transfer between the androids in the DPD tech lab, but for Connor, it felt like a lifetime. In its own way, it was a lifetime. His LED unstable and his nerves frayed, Connor dropped Sam's arm, letting it fall to the table where it remained lifeless. He took a small step away, trying to ignore the sinking feeling that nothing was going to be the same after this.

Richards was waiting with as much patience as he could muster. He leaned on his hands on the edge of the table, asking, "Well?"

Looking up at him, Connor tried his best to compose himself. He nodded, knowing full well his tone betrayed him. "I have his memory."

"Connor! Where the hell are you?"

Hank's voice was close, though muffled through the door. Richards waved toward it, saying, "Go on. We'll go through all its information later."

It didn't need to be said twice. Connor spun on his heel and almost raced for the door. Hank was not far away, pulling his jacket on as he moved from his desk. Quietly, Connor hid his discomfort and fell into step behind the lieutenant, the two exiting the precinct together.

Hank stopped outside, at the top of the stairs. He looked to either end of the street, his shoulders drooping and his face twisting into puzzlement and doubt. Even sifting through his own problems, Connor noticed. "Hank?"

"Deviants broke into a store last night at Capitol Park. Chris was the first responding officer. He had his own gun turned on him." Hank faced Connor now, a foreign look in his eye, almost challenging. "He said he was saved by Markus himself..."

Connor didn't know what Hank was thinking, but he had a sneaking suspicion that he didn't want to know, either. "Is Chris okay?"

Hank wanted Connor to rethink deviancy on his own time. If he tried to push it, the android would just push back harder. It was a delicate situation. Hank never did delicate very well. There was a long pause before he finally nodded. "Yeah. He's shaken up, but he's alive."


"No- Mom, you don't need to visit. I'm fine."

Andy stared at the coffee maker in Hank's kitchen, waiting for her mug to fill. A pizza box sat on the dinner table beside her, opened and missing three slices. With an elbow on the surface of the table, she rested her cheek in her palm. She fought to keep her eyes open, dark circles visible under them.

Her head ached since she first woke that morning, and between Sumo wanting attention and her phone buzzing with news, sleeping in wasn't going to happen. Going out was just as difficult, and her mood changed from exhausted to restless on the hour.

Natalie Hope's voice came through the phone, sarcasm in the older woman's words. "Well, you're so convincing."

"I'm just tired."

"Are you having problems sleeping?"

There was that tone Andy knew all too well. It was one of professional expertise mixed with maternal paranoia. Even if she was having trouble sleeping - and she was - she wouldn't let her mother know. She rolled her eyes, asking, "If I say yes, are you going to make a big deal out of it?"

Natalie had just as little patience for games, it would seem. "Andrea, I haven't talked to you in three years and now you almost died, so please, will you just humor me for ten minutes?" She insisted.

Fair enough, Andy decided. She leaned back and sank into her chair, hoping her sweatshirt would swallow her and remove her from the conversation. Sumo wandered closer, brushing his back against a hand she dangled over the armrest. Tangling her fingers into thick fur, she said quietly, "I'm okay."

Natalie took only a beat before she replied. "Did your captain give you time off?"

"Three days," Andy said, rushing to add before her mother could throw a fit, "I asked him to lower it to three."

Sighing, Natalie murmured, "Of course you did. Well when can I visit if not now?"

That was a question Andy was not ready to answer, but also one she knew was coming. It wasn't that she didn't want to see her mother, it was... It was just not now. "I don't know. I need to get an apartment first, and...," With a shrug, she offered, "What about Christmas?"

"What about Thanksgiving?"

"Valentine's Day."

After a moment of stubborn consideration, Natalie chuckled. "Fine, you win. Christmas," She agreed. Softly, she told her, "I love you."

"Love you, too," Andy replied.

As the call ended, she moved the phone away from her ear to look at the time. If things were going according to schedule, Hank and Connor would be meeting with Elijah Kamski any minute now. She was glad she didn't have to be there. After recent events, she wasn't sure she'd be able to keep her cool in front of the founder of CyberLife, if the rumors about his ego were true. Still, it would have been nice to be out of the house. Andy was never fond of being homebound, and this not even being her home made it much worse.

A news article popped up on the screen of her phone, which vibrated in her hand. Androids Take Over Capitol Park, the headline read, with an image of the center in question just underneath.

It looked like an opportunity to her. Ruffling the back of the dog still standing at her side, she asked, "How about a walk, Sumo?"


Elijah Kamski's home was situated along the Detroit River, just far enough from civilization to feel secluded while still in the city. It was a large home built of sleek, angular architecture, with dark walls and a ramp leading up to the front door. There were windows at the corners of the front, but they revealed little of the interior. From over the roof, one could see the tip of the CyberLife Tower, just across the river.

It had been a quiet drive, tense on either side of the car. The news about Chris Miller was enough to sober anyone, but Hank was also growing worried for his oddly silent partner. In the passenger's seat, Connor's mind had yet to pull away from the dead android in the tech lab.

Pulling the keys from the ignition, Hank motioned toward Connor with a jut of his chin. "What's going on with you?"

Connor blinked himself into the moment. Although there were discoveries within Sam's memories that were relevant to the deviancy cases, now was not the time for this discussion. He was still trying to sort through everything himself. "I was sending in my report," He lied.

"Then why wasn't your LED flashing?" This caught Connor off guard, and Hank pointed at him when he turned to express that surprise. "I'm not as big an idiot about you androids as you think."

With a long sigh, Connor decided to give at least a vague answer. "All right. I was thinking."

"About?" Hank pressed. When the android hesitated and shifted his gaze to the house, Hank glowered. He started to raise his voice, threatening, "Connor, we can sit out here all day-"

"Nick Weaver."

It stopped Hank well enough. When he thought it over, the answer should have surprised him - after all, Connor was at the department to hunt deviants, not concern himself with narcotics. That being said, there were a lot of things Connor also wasn't meant to do - he wasn't meant to let deviants escape, or follow a young SID detective around like a puppy.

Hank was preparing for anything when he urged him to continue. "...What about him?"

"Lieutenant Richards asked me to access his android's memory," Was Connor's casual answer.

"Oh." Correction: Hank was preparing for anything but that.

It wasn't a far fetched request. He'd done it before, with the android they found hiding in Carlos Ortiz' attic. That was just a moment, however. A brief glimpse at a single traumatic event. If Richards was planning to use Sam's memory as evidence against Nick Weaver's operation, they would need a lot more than that. They would need a lifetime, and that worried Hank.

He'd been quiet for too long, and Connor was looking at him now. He shrugged and shook his his head, saying firmly, "Well you're not doing it."

He exited the car before an argument could start, but it was too late for that. Connor's indignant stare was on his back as the android pushed open his door and climbed out to follow. Catching up to Hank in front of the car, he called out, "Why shouldn't I?"

Hank sighed, tired of this argument before it even began. Shifting around to wave a hand near his temple, he explained, "Because we don't know what that android went through, okay? It might mess with your head."

He began to approach the ramp leading to the front door, but heard no footsteps behind him. He glanced over his shoulder, and upon seeing he was alone, he stopped and turned. Connor still stood in front of the car, intent on the ground below him. His annoyed but nervous expression said everything he wouldn't say himself. Hank stared only a second.

"What the fuck?!" Hank roared, marching through the snow toward the car.

Connor took several, fast steps away from the man, stumbling a little until he felt the car against his palms. He tried to put up an argument, but it was weak and insecure. "I had to do it before it was too late-"

"You talk to me before you do anything that stupid!" Hank gestured between them as he continued, "What if it was too much for you and you self-destructed?"

Taking offense to that, Connor scowled. "I'm more durable than that, Hank-"

"Bullshit!" Hank snapped, glaring, "I've been watching you, Connor- you're not the same android that showed up at the precinct last week."

Connor knew what he meant, but he also knew what it meant to agree. He shook his head, stating, "Of course not. I'm the replacement-"

"You know what I mean!" Hank yelled. When there was no protest, he relaxed his shoulders and attempted to control his breathing. Connor would not look at him. He wasn't sure if that made him angrier or not. "Next time, you talk to me. You got that?"

Connor nodded, mumbling an agreement. "I'll talk to you next time."

Tension passed over them before Hank sighed again. "Jesus...," He muttered, running a hand over his forehead, "Did you even get anything out of it?"

A spark of excitement returned to Connor for the first time in days as he looked up at Hank. "Sam was at Nick Weaver's side for years. He saw everything," He nodded, then stepped forward, "He also knew about Markus' group. It's called Jericho."

It was one blow after another today. "You weren't gonna tell me about this?" Hank exclaimed.

"I was looking for a way to slip it into the conversation."

"Slip it into the-"

Hank stopped. It came as an abrupt realization, if a bit delayed, that Connor had referred to Sam with human pronouns. Amazingly enough, he didn't even seem to notice he was doing it. It was a far more significant detail than it would seem, and Hank believed this to mean that Connor had experienced more than he was willing to let on.

Although fearing what the answer would be, Hank narrowed his eyes and asked, "You see anything else in there? Anything you might want to talk about?"

The hesitation as Connor struggled to find the right words was worrisome. "Sam... cared for Detective Hope," He began, unsure. Sam's emotions were messy and intense, and Connor didn't know what to make of most of them just yet, but he was certain of that much. "He asked me to give her a message before he shut down."

With Connor looking almost fragile, Hank had a feeling there was more to it than that. For now, however, he would give Connor the space to figure things out on his own. "Then you should do that," He nodded, but rose his brows and warned, "And you're gonna have to tell her about the probing, too. This is her case you got mixed up in, and I'm not lyin' for you."


It had been a long time since Andy visited Capitol Park, and much had changed over the years. The bus station was new; she'd sat at the original one every morning in the summer on her way to work at a local gym. She also remembered the old fountain that the android statue replaced, and how the stone rim was wide and leveled in steps. Her cousin from Chicago would stand atop the highest ledge, shouting remarks down to their group of friends like a tyrannical queen, inciting them to throw quarters at her head.

The CyberLife store was the first addition, and the only one Andy had seen take place firsthand. Now it stood in the corner like a haunted beacon, its windowfront shattered by a stolen city maintenance vehicle and every one of its display androids missing from their stands.

Sumo followed her to the edge of the center, which was taped off as officers guarded the space. Within the tape, people worked to clear out the damage and remove the stray pieces of CyberLife's storefront. A group of people stood in the street, trying to get broken parking meters back into working order.

An officer lifted a hand to stop her from crossing, but she showed her badge and was let through without a problem. Spotting a man she recognized, she maneuvered her way to the other end of the center. There was more evidence of a disturbance than just the CyberLife store, and she took her time examining it all.

Holographic tags had made their homes over benches, billboards, and windows - two circles surrounding a smaller dot, a simple outline of an android's LED. Over the statue in the center, and down the side of a building across the street, floated We Are Alive in giant letters.

She didn't consider herself on expert on such matters, but this looked like the start of a revolution.

"Andy!"

Wilson was approaching her now, a surprised but pleasant expression on his face. "Hey," She greeted, nodding her head toward the vandalized store, "What's the word?"

He tilted his head away from her, eyes squinting. "Aren't you off today?"

She shrugged and held up the hand that held a leash. "I am off. I'm walking the dog."

Sumo appraised the stranger as if understanding he'd been mentioned, and Wilson offered him a tiny wave. "All right, but you didn't get this from me." He pointed to the street, explaining, "They killed a drone, shut down the cameras, and hijacked a truck to crash it into the storefront. Then they took off with all the androids, and you saw the rest on the news."

"Did we get any kind of footage?"

He shook his head, replying, "No, not anywhere, but Chris and Paul were the first ones to show up last night. They took out a few androids that ran at them but then got overpowered."

This was new information, and alarming information at that. "Shit, are they all right?" She asked, hoping worst-case scenario would be a casual visit to the hospital.

Wilson was quick to nod and alleviate her concerns. "Yeah, that's the thing. The one they're calling Markus called them off. According to Chris, it was something about an eye for an eye."

This was less alarming, but it rekindled a certain discomfort in Andy. Not only had no one been hurt, it would seem the deviants were going out of their way to make sure of that. This was logical, and peaceful. Her mind kept travelling to the graffiti of We Are Alive and to the speech from Stratford Tower. This message is the hope of a people. She'd fallen asleep with that android on her tablet screen last night.

"Imagine that," She murmured.

Unaware of the doubts distracting her, Wilson shrugged. "Anyway, they hit five locations at the same time, so they've got a pretty decent group. There's also not really any evidence, but what do you expect with androids?"

She didn't offer an answer, instead glancing over his shoulder to the familiar face several yards away. Agent Perkins argued into his phone, doing a poor job at concealing his frustration from onlookers. "How's the FBI doing?"

Wilson almost rolled his eyes, making it clear he was ready for the man's absence. "Getting angrier by the hour. This is his fourth phone call since he's been here. My money's on us losing jurisdiction by tonight."

Jurisdiction over this would surely cover everything else, too. It would take Hank off the case, take her off the case, and she had no idea what that meant for Connor. She doubted the FBI would be willing to take him on, and a small, selfish part of her didn't want them to.

A loud crash behind Wilson startled everyone out of their focus as workers dropped a larger shard of glass they were attempting to remove. Wilson spun on his heel to catch the scene, and then sighed. "I should get back to that," He began to walk backwards, waving a hand, "Tell Hank I said hi."


Kamski was worse than Hank expected him to be. He met them at his indoor pool, swaggering around in a robe that probably cost more than the Oldsmobile. There were a number of Chloe models they'd seen already, some tending to his every whim and others sitting in the pool like decoration for one man's narcissism.

Hank thought maybe he was just biased, but then Kamski put a gun in Connor's hands and pushed a Chloe to her knees. "Destroy this machine and I'll tell you all I know," He'd said, shrugging, "Or spare it, if you feel it's alive, but you'll leave here without having learnt anything from me."

No, Hank was definitely right; Kamski was an ass.

"Okay, I think we're done here," Hank interjected. He refused to let the option even sit in the air, uncomfortably aware of his partner's deep silence. He pulled at Connor's arm, scoffing at Kamski. "Come on, Connor. Let's go. Sorry to get you outta your pool."

Kamski wouldn't let them leave just yet. "What's more important to you, Connor? Your investigation or the life of this android?" The android detective didn't respond, still holding a gun on Chloe. He saddled up to Connor's side, hands behind his back. "Decide who you are. An obedient machine... or a living being endowed with free will."

"Connor, don't," Hank ordered, panic laced in his words.

"Pull the trigger, and I'll tell you what you want to know," Kamski continued to urge.

Connor stared at Chloe. It should have been an easy decision. Now that they knew about Jericho, they needed to know how to find it, and Kamski knew more about deviancy than anyone. Connor should have pulled the trigger without a second thought. No hesitation. No regret.

But he stared at her. He saw Ortiz' android, begging him not to call him out in that attic. He saw the AX400 running across a highway, death on one side of the street and hope on the other. He saw the deviants from the Eden Club, hand in hand and ready to take on anyone for each other. He saw Sam giving everything to protect someone else. He stared at her and he saw Chloe, staring right back at him.

He pushed the gun into Kamski's hands, looking away from all the eyes that were on him. Hank's were the heaviest, and he was dreading the conversation they would have after this.

"Fascinating," Kamski murmured, though surprise was absent from his tone, in its place a smugness they couldn't quite understand. "CyberLife's last chance to save humanity... is itself a deviant."

"I'm..." How many more times was he going to repeat it until it rang true? "I'm not a deviant."

"You preferred to spare a machine rather than accomplish your mission," Kamski reviewed, holding out a hand for Chloe. "You saw a living being in this android. You showed empathy." She was brought to her feet, and he ushered her away from the conversation. Turning to face the detective android, he said, "A war is coming. You'll have to choose your side. Will you betray your own people or stand up against your creators? What could be worse between having to choose between two evils?"

Hank pulled at Connor's arm once more. "Let's get outta here."

They made their way to the exit. Connor was in the doorway when Kamski called out to them. "By the way...," He turned to the large windows running along the far wall, staring out at the CyberLife Tower. "I always leave an emergency exit in my programs. You never know..."

No other words were shared between them as the two detectives left the home. Although Connor raced for the car, Hank remained at the top of the ramp. His voice was quiet, but commanding all the same. "Why didn't you shoot?"

Connor stopped, but didn't dare turn around. "I just saw that girl's eyes...," He trailed off, not knowing where that sentence ended. And what? Felt something? No. He couldn't entertain that thought, not without jeopardizing everything. "And I couldn't. That's all."

This wasn't good enough an answer for Hank. This was the push Connor needed to accept the truth, and Hank wasn't backing down now. "That was the biggest chance we had, and you let it go."

It was a truth Connor couldn't accept. It pinched a nerve for him, and he finally turned around. Hands up in exasperation, he looked to Hank with confusion, frustration, and a little bit of panic. Couldn't Hank see what he was going through? If he admitted to anything, that was the end for him - for good. "Yeah, I know what I should have done! I told you I couldn't," He exclaimed.

It was one of the few outbursts he'd had in the past two days, and even one was too many. He tried to collect himself, clearing his throat and straightening his back. "I'm sorry, okay?"

It was an apology as much as it was a confession, and Hank recognized it. He wanted to say more, to assure Connor he wouldn't let the worst come to pass, that he would have his back. However the CyberLife Tower loomed over them in the background, and they both knew they were minuscule in the grand scheme of things. Perhaps this one was too big for right now, when they did not even know how to find the group big enough to help them.

Nodding, Hank tried to smile. "Maybe you did the right thing."


Andy sat on the couch with Sumo laying on the floor under her, and she held a tablet in her lap that displayed a number of files from the precinct. They were reports filed on the most recent influx of deviants, ranging from damaged city maintenance workers to domestic models fleeing poorly hidden abuse. It wasn't hard to see the similarities in these cases, but the question, at least for her, wasn't how they were becoming deviant - the question was about where they were going.

A message blinked at the bottom of her screen, a conversation between her and Desta Delgado. The DA was helping her look through the information regarding the androids from Andronikov's estate, not that they had discovered anything. The new message said as much: This is hopeless, and you're on leave. Stop bothering me and go see a movie.

How could anyone sit through a movie with everything running through Andy's mind? She tossed her tablet to the side and yawned, deciding on finally getting that cup of coffee she'd started working on earlier that afternoon. She was sitting up when the front door opened.

Hank stormed through first, Connor silently following. Sumo climbed to his feet and lumbered over to his owner as Andy asked, "Hey, how was the meeting?"

"Bad," Was Hank's bitter response.

"Yikes."

Connor stayed at the end of the couch nearest the door, and examined Andy as she watched Hank. She was a bundle of fabric on the couch, the University of Michigan sweatshirt blending into two blankets and a sheet underneath. The only part of her revealed was her head, which sported a messy ponytail and deep dark circles. Already he was nitpicking at the details that concerned him.

Hank opened the fridge and pulled a beer from off the shelf. Sighing as he opened the bottle, he began to wander back into the living room and vent. "Chris almost got shot last night, Perkins is closing in on my case-" He stopped at the end of the couch and gestured toward Andy, "Oh, and you were right about Kamski. The guy's a prick."

She rose a curious brow. "I knew he'd piss you off but I didn't think it'd be this sour."

He scoffed and summarized the meeting, saying, "Bastard said he'd only answer our questions if Connor shot one of his precious androids."

Hank started to mutter under his breath about it being a waste of time, but Andy paid him no attention. She was looking at Connor now, and he returned her gaze with one teetering between guilt and frustration. So he didn't shoot. He was CyberLife's advanced deviant hunter, and Kamski could have led them to deviants, but he didn't shoot. Again, he'd hesitated behind a gun and doubted his convictions, but this time, it was looking to hit him harder than usual.

"So what now?" She asked.

"Now we...," Hank paused to shrug helplessly, "We go through the evidence and look for Jericho."

Andy perked up. There was a creeping sensation in the back of her mind that told her that name was familiar, but she was sure it was a name she hadn't heard until now. "Jericho?"

"That's the name of the deviant group," Hank answered. At her continued confusion, he squared his attention onto Connor. Waving a hand, he asked the android, "You want to tell her how we know about it?"

There was a distinct scolding tone to Hank's voice, and Andy knew an argument was about to break. "Uh-oh," She mused.

Connor shifting from foot to foot confirmed a growing tension, but Hank's stern demeanor wouldn't let him off the hook. Finally, he told Andy, "Lieutenant Richards asked for my help with your case against Nick Weaver's associates."

She didn't see where this was going, so she gave an appreciative nod. "Well that would be nice, especially with Perkins arresting half our guys."

A grunt from Hank pulled on her attention, and he warned, "Wait 'til you hear how Richards wants his help."

"O... kay, now I'm back to the 'Uh-oh.' What's going on?" She asked.

Another pause had her getting agitated, and it was only worsened when he answered, "He asked me to access Sam's memories."

She didn't reply right away, sitting in silence and letting the words process. After some time, her frown deepened, and she blinked a few times before standing to her feet. "I'm gonna kill him."

"Andy-"

She turned to Hank, pissed. "What the hell was Richards thinking?"

Facing her back to Connor annoyed him. He was part of this conversation more than Hank was, for it was his decision to do it in the first place, and he had the right to make that decision. "Accessing another android's memory is in my programming, and doing it to solve a case is why CyberLife sent me here," He stated, narrowing his eyes, "I'm a machine, Detective Hope, so don't let your misguided concern for my wellbeing jeopardize your case."

Andy spun and her brows shot up, and he realized too late that was not the right thing to say. Behind her, Hank shook his head and took a large sip of his beer. Flapping her arms out in a exaggerated shrug, she bit out, "Remind me again what valuable information Kamski shared with you after you shot his machine?"

Connor's jaw almost dropped, and his LED flashed. He didn't know what to say to that, but he was getting real sick of Andy throwing his own actions back in his face.

Tired of this argument already, Hank leaned a hand on the top of the couch and spoke up. "Look, I'm as pissed about this as you are, but Perkins only has what we've given him so far. The shit Sam saw? That's in our hands, and it's practically a confession from Weaver himself." He gestured to Connor, adding more confidently than he felt about the matter, "Obviously it didn't mess up Connor, so he might be a reckless idiot, but at least he's a lucky reckless idiot."

She snorted. Rubbing a hand over where a new ache was forming in her head, she mumbled, "Fits right in, I guess."

His words appeased her enough to calm the situation, and Hank let her simmer a moment longer. "I'm going to call Richards, see what's going on at the station." He put his bottle on the table and reached for the phone in his pocket. He headed for the door, but stopped beside Connor. "Now give her his message."

Connor responded with a slow, uncertain nod, still put off by the argument. As Hank left the house, the remaining two stood five feet apart in the living room. The air was thick, and neither wanted to break the silence first.

Sam's last words were at the forefront of Connor's thoughts now, though, so he would be the one to do it. "Sam had a message for you."

She hadn't even thought about the fact Sam had to be reactivated for Connor to access his memories. That was a whole new level of anger she had to fight down, along with fear. Sam had to blame her for this. She did. Whatever his message was, she wasn't prepared to hear it.

"I'm listening," She said. It was now or never.

"He said...," Connor stopped, nervous as her stare deepened. On the other end of the conversation, she'd picked up on the pronoun, and it shocked her. "He wanted to thank you."

As pleasant as those words were, they were still a punch to the stomach. Thank you? For as hard as they were to hear, they were even harder to believe. What did she do for him besides put him in danger? But that was the kind of man Sam was. There was no question it was his message.

She nodded, and turned her eye to the carpet. "I'm sorry I yelled at you," She sighed, "You were being a jerk, but... Sorry."

"I'm sorry I upset you."

This pulled her lips into a grin, and a snort from her throat. She was returning to a semblance of normal as she argued, "No you're not."

His brows furrowed. "I didn't want to-"

"Would you still have done it?" When he hesitated to tell her the truth, she went on, "Then don't apologize. I don't know if you did the right thing or not, but I don't like it. I don't like you doing something that risky just to help my case."

"I wanted to, Detective."

So did Sam. Her grin faltered and her eyes glazed over at the thought, but she would not say this aloud. "That's what concerns me." Ready to move on from this topic, she told him, "Capitol Park was a big hit to Fowler. Perkins is getting restless, so you should be careful tomorrow."

As it was her day off, Connor knew this to be information she shouldn't have had. He glanced down to the tablet on the end of the couch, to the DPD database and the chat logs open between her and Delgado. To the hint of Markus' speech just behind it in the corner. He had a suspicion that last one was less police work and more a personal obsession.

She noticed where he was looking, and moved her hands to her hips, taking on a defensive stance. He wouldn't challenge her on this, instead softly asking, "How have you been?"

Her knee jerk reaction was to dismiss his concern, but she'd just barely managed to convince her mother of that this morning. She considered Natalie Hope to be a genius, but something told her the advanced prototype would be a little harder to fool.

"Sitting around the house doesn't help," She confessed. A hand slipped from her waistline and waved over the tablet. "I just... need things to do."

Now, a distraction, he could do without causing much harm. After the day he had, he could even relate. He smiled at her and tilted his head to the side, musing, "I think I can manage that." As her curiosity piqued, he asked, "I was thinking about bringing Hank dinner, and Chicken Feed should still be open. Would you like to accompany me?"

It didn't take long for her to return the smile with one of her own, tired but genuine. "You just want me to pay," She joked, reaching for the jacket over the top of the couch.

He scoffed, stepping to the side to let her pass him. Plainly, he replied, "I'm offended."

"Ah, deviant by insult," She stopped in the doorway to smirk over her shoulder at him, "My plan all along."

Two days ago, he would have refuted her words even if they were said in jest. Today, with Sam and Chloe and all the other incidents piling up on his shoulders, with the both of them trying to pretend everything was okay, Connor didn't have the energy. So instead, he laughed, and nudged her out the door.