All I will say is 2020 was a bitch. Sorry, and thank you.

From here out, I'll be keeping anyone who's interested updated on my relevant twitter, wefoundhumor. You have to follow to see my feed, but please don't be discouraged by that. It's just to avoid... well, the other parts of twitter.


December 6, 2038


After the murders of Sophia and Jeana Gibson, the days were busy for estate lawyer, Leona Mun. When she said she would be fighting to have the true last will recognized, she meant it, and it came with long meetings, heavy arguments, and a lot of paperwork. She'd all but pushed aside her other work to dedicate herself to the cause.

It didn't go unnoticed. She was starting to network with people she believed would soon be valuable to her - a reporter with Channel 16, a PR agent from Urban Farms, and even a representative of the House. Civilians watching at home were finding her firm's website, and sending letters of support or criticism.

This was why it wasn't entirely surprising to her when she arrived in her office one morning to find an email with a blank subject line from an anonymous address. Upon reading the first line of the message, however, she knew she was going to be in for a rough morning:

There's something you need to know about the Detroit Police Department.


'Hank is in a mood today. Tread lightly.'

Andy sat at her desk, staring down at Connor's text on her phone. For almost a week now, the atmosphere at work had been tense. Hank came in with grunts and grumbles, never looked up from his desk, and rushed out the second he found the chances. If Connor thought to warn her of an impending bad attitude this time above others, then she believed 'in a mood' had to be an understatement.

Before she could reply, her phone started ringing. Delgado's name appeared on the screen, and Andy answered casually. "Morning."

"Do you still have androids in your evidence locker?"

It was a sudden, and sensitive, topic. Andy took a moment to process the surprise, as well as Delgado's clear impatience. Kicking back in her chair, she mused, "Good morning, Andy, how are you today? I'm good, thanks. How are you?"

Delgado didn't appreciate the jest. She spoke again, slowly this time. "Do you or do you not have androids in your evidence?"

"Of course not," Andy dismissed, and the deputy district attorney began to relax on the other end of the call. "They were transferred to Richards after I left SID."

A silence fell over the conversation, and it was almost scarier than being held at gunpoint. Delgado went through noises of disbelief before sputtering out, "I can't decide if I want you to tell me you're joking or not."

"You were there for this. It was the Andronikov case. I don't know why you're surprised," Andy explained with a shrug.

"I thought CyberLife took them?"

"No, I handled that, remember?"

Delgado's voice was strained and sarcastic. "Oh, well good for you."

Andy narrowed her eyes. "I feel like that wasn't sincere," She confided.

"It wasn't!" She heard the sound of scuffling as she assumed her friend moved around her office. Speaking just above a whisper, Delgado asked, "Did you know Jericho has a lawyer now?"

Andy did know that, in fact, but she doubted that would be seen as a positive thing. "I met her on a case. I thought they'd be good together," She answered.

"Are you trying to send me to an early grave?" The DDA stressed. Something seemed to click in her mind, and she spat out, "If you were the one who sent her that email, I swear to everything holy..."

"What email?"

Delgado lowered her voice even more. "She got an anonymous tip. If not you, then someone at your precinct is having a moral crisis, and now Leona Mun has stormed my office demanding I release every detained android into Jericho's custody or she'll take it to Channel 16."

Andy couldn't help but grin. "Atta girl."

"Andy!"

Scoffing, she sat up and retorted, "What? You didn't want us to keep North any longer than we had to, so what's so different about this?"

"They actually killed somebody!"

"It was self-defense."

"I'm not sure that matters!" Delgado stopped to let out a frustrated sigh, and then started again, "Every time the DPD has a new android-related case, I have to go to my boss and then my boss has to go to Chief Simmons and then they have a big meeting about whether or not to obey the letter or respect the spirit- it's like I'm back in our old dorm arguing ethics all over again."

The woman was spiraling, and she needed someone to pull her in. "Delgado..."

It went ignored as Delgado continued, "And that's just for everything happening now! I can't apply this retroactively! Andronikov's death happened before the march, before we were all thrown into this legal limbo. If I start looking back in time, it'd be a lot less painful to slap my resignation down on my boss' desk now."

"Del."

The old nickname and the firm tone was what stopped her in her tracks. Breathlessly, she asked, "What?"

Leaning on her desk, Andy posed the question: "Do those androids belong in evidence?"

There was a long, thoughtful stretch as Delgado tried to avoid the answer. She didn't need to think it over - she already knew - but admitting it meant Andy was right. With an annoyed scoff, she at last gave in and muttered, "No."

For Andy, it was simple as that. "Then you know what needs to happen. Everything else is bullshit."

"The 'everything else' is pretty important," Delgado complained.

"Not as much," Andy was quick to say. "Can I get back to work now, Princess?"

Another sigh. "I hate you sometimes."

"Talk to you later." She hung up the phone before more could be said. Dropping her phone onto the side of her desk, she shook her head, grumbling, "Looks like everyone's going to be in a mood today."


Delgado frowned at the silence that followed on the phone. Sliding it into her pocket, she pulled at the front of her blazer and looked around herself. The hallway outside her office was empty and peaceful, with the morning sun just starting to fill the walls. She was painfully aware, after the fact, that she had excused herself from her own space, but in that moment, the fastest escape was the only one. This was because of what would greet her inside: Leona Mun was waiting for a response, alongside her surprising new client and leader of the android revolution.

Taking in a deep breath, Delgado prepared for the rest of her meeting, and then stepped into her office. The two figures inside turned to face her upon hearing the door open, and she sent them an apologetic smile as she crossed the room. "Sorry about that. I had some... immediate business to handle."

Leona's serious expression never changed. "You called Detective Hope?"

"I..."

She went on to explain, "You wanted to confirm my information before we proceeded. The inquiry would have been tied up if you went through official channels, and it isn't a secret that you and the detective are close friends. It's why I chose to speak to you."

Standing behind her desk now, Delgado dipped her head down and mumbled, "So I can blame her for this. That's good to know."

"You called her?" Leona repeated.

"Yes." Delgado lowered into her seat and looked up at the two of them. With the tone of a city official, she began, "While I understand your concern regarding the androids, there isn't much I can do for you."

Leona wasn't having it. "You can move the androids out of evidence collection."

"They pertain to the case," Delgado insisted.

"They're witnesses."

"Or, more likely, the killers."

Markus had been quiet until then, when the words struck a nerve. From behind Leona, he interjected, "They were being held prisoner, to be experimented on like science projects. They were the victims."

Leona was quick to add, "Which I will argue in a courtroom, after they've been charged. Has that happened yet?"

Delgado was unwilling to give a straightforward answer. "The case is still open-"

"Then release them. You can't detain people indefinitely," The lawyer interrupted.

That was the problem. Delgado raised a hand into the air, exclaiming, "The courts haven't decided they are people."

But as one would expect of Leona, she was at the ready with a counter-argument. "Yet the Chief of Police released another android involved in a murder into Jericho custody."

With a warning gaze, Delgado protested, "That's different."

It wasn't different, not to Markus. "Why, because you couldn't hide it from the public?" He spat.

Delgado knew the edge in his tone was due to his irritation speaking, but even so, the accusation stung. She focused her attention on him with a silent pleading. "That's not fair."

She may not have been the corrupt politician he was making her out to be, but that was her burden to prove. "All due respect, Miss Delgado, try looking those androids in the eyes and telling them that," He said.

Her hesitation showed them they were starting to get through to her. Leona stepped forward to give her an extra push. "The crime doesn't matter. What matters is you've already decided to treat androids as people until ordered otherwise, and yet not only are you detaining a dozen androids without due process, you are storing them like objects." She let the words sit for a moment before delivering the ultimatum they came to give. "Either charge them and put them in a cell, release them to Jericho, or expect every news outlet to be out front by this evening."

Delgado was a smart woman; she knew when she had no easy choice. "I'll speak to the necessary people about moving them," She conceded.

It was enough. "I expect an update soon. You have my contact information," Leona nodded to the card she left on the desk before turning to the door.

Markus lingered in the middle of the room. Ending their meeting coldly felt less than ideal, but he knew they would never get anywhere in the world worrying about being polite. He didn't know Desta Delgado well, but he suspected she would understand that. "Thank you for your time," He said, cutting into the awkward quiet.

She replied with a brief nod, and watched them leave. Her previous schedule of the daily routine had been obliterated, and now she would have to present more bad news to her boss. The contention wasn't anything personal against Jericho - she believed in them. It also wasn't anything against Leona - she was doing her job, just as Delgado was. What was starting to weigh on Delgado was that she had a lot less freedom to do her work for good.

Huffing to herself, she picked up the business card with Leona Mun's contact information on it. The printed numbers almost seemed to taunt her now. "Must be nice," She whispered, flicking the card to the side.


Andy didn't see Hank when he came into work. Instead, she heard him tossing his jacket onto his desk. The noise jerked her head up, and she came eye to eye with a glaring, haggard lieutenant. She wasn't sure if the angry cloud hanging over him was an improvement compared to the cold shoulder.

Leaning forward, he asked, "I have spent the past week nursing the worst migraine I've had all year. You know why?"

She had an inkling, yes. "The car bomb?"

"The car bomb," He repeated through clenched teeth. He waved an arm into the air, unleashing his rant, "Because CyberLife decided to plant themselves in Detroit and make metal people, and some guy with a superiority complex couldn't just move on with his life. No, he had to go and start shooting at a police department and putting explosives every-god-damned-where!"

She didn't know what about today in particular brought him to this point, but she didn't want to stop him if he was going through the stages of... whatever Hank went through. "Mhm," She hummed with a nod.

"And I'm done. I am tired of these new shitty problems and this new shitty situation- I miss old shitty!" He yelled.

"...Okay."

"So all I want - from all of you people," He pointed from her, to the others in the bullpen, "Is a normal god damned day with a normal murder case and old fashioned evidence and a clean arrest, so I can unwind at Jimmy's before going home to fall asleep on the couch with Sumo. Just give me a dead human body and a cheated-on spouse and let me call it a day."

Andy was trying to decide how to deescalate his tantrum when, with great timing from the captain, a yell broke out from behind them. "Anderson! Hope!" They looked over their shoulders to see Fowler in the doorway, and he was not pleased. "In here. Now."

Hank managed to look even more tense. Andy jumped out of her chair to block his path before he could respond, and he eyed her with scrutiny. Moving a hand to gesture to the office behind her, she said, "Before we go in there, I want you to know, I had nothing to do with this."

He was so still, she wondered if he ever heard her speak. When he finally did respond, it was a frustrated question. "What the hell did you do?"

Offended at the accusation, her jaw dropped. "I just said-"

"I know what you said!" He yelled, waving her off and storming past her.

Delgado was waiting in the office for them. Her arms were crossed and her brows were furrowed, and she stood by the side of Fowler's desk. The captain himself returned to stand in front of his chair as Andy and Hank filed in. Hank examined each of them; nothing major had happened that he was aware of, so he had no idea what any of this was about. "What's going on?"

Fowler waved a hand toward the DDA to let her speak. "Leona Mun has demanded that we release all of Andronikov's androids," She started.

The name rang familiar. Hank was surprised to remember why. "Leona- Isn't that that lawyer from our case the other day? The one with the old lady."

"Jeana Gibson," Andy helped him along.

"Yeah," Hank returned to Delgado with a confused frown, "What's she got to do with Andronikov?"

Delgado honed in on Andy like a hawk. "Andy didn't tell you? She introduced her to Markus, and now Jericho has a civil rights lawyer."

The detective shrank under everyone's hard attention. Keeping her eyes downcast, she tried to defend herself. "All I did was pass on her name."

Whether he believed it or not, Fowler found the excuse weak and irrelevant. "Well now she's hounding the DA's office because someone in this precinct is leaking information," He interjected with a raised voice.

It wasn't lost on Hank what Fowler was trying to imply, and he wasn't going to tolerate it. Pointing to himself and his partner, he exclaimed, "You think we did it?"

Fowler's arms went up in an indignant shrug. "Who else would, Hank?"

"I don't-" He scoffed, changing course, "Anyone in SID? Someone at CyberLife? The android who stole the car? Pick one!"

He had already picked his prime suspect, and she was standing in the room. When Andy realized what his stare meant for her, she quickly refused. "I didn't do anything!"

"We'll be checking your computers to prove that."

This was exactly the kind of mess Hank didn't want. "Oh come on, Jeffrey-"

Fowler wasn't having it. "That's not up for discussion! You're lucky I'm not calling in Internal Affairs!" The threat of having to deal with an IA agent again silenced them, so he lowered his voice. "Now, Chief Simmons has decided to review the case before we respond to Miss Mun's demands. That means this case is officially reopened."

Hank couldn't resist a scowl and the shake of his head. "We know what happened. He tortured a bunch of androids and they killed him."

With a shrug, Delgado argued, "You, yourself, mentioned that one got away, and it's reasonable to believe they were the instigator."

That depended on how you viewed the events, Andy believed, and she refused to call Andronikov a victim. Scowling, she objected, "The instigator was the torturer."

Fowler glared at her, arguing, "That's not helping your case, Hope." He gestured again to Delgado, and told the two detectives, "DDA Delgado's going to oversee this investigation. She'll decide who is and isn't involved."

"I'm busy," Hank interjected.

A confused pause fell over Delgado and Fowler. They glanced to each other, and Andy waved a hand toward her lieutenant. "He's sworn off android cases on account of the-"

"I almost got blown up!" Hank yelled.

She nodded. "That. On account of that."

Sighing, Fowler pointed to the door. "Get out. Jesus Christ..."

With that, the meeting was over. The detectives left the office, but Andy was headed for the break room. "You want a coffee?" She asked without looking back. She knew if she did, she would see an unfriendly face.

"Andy." Hank wasn't letting her slip away so easily. She stopped walking, and turned halfway. "Was this you?"

He looked so tired. She had seen other sides of him - the dedicated servant, the agitated divorcee, the short-fused drunk - now he was becoming someone else again. No, the nagging voice in the back of her mind was whispering, Not becoming. Returning to. This was a part of the Hank everyone saw after Cole. This was a man who was giving up.

She didn't know how to help him. She didn't know who to be for him.

So with dropped shoulders, she brushed off his question. "If it wasn't me, you wouldn't believe it. If it was me, you'd tell me to leave you out of it."

He wanted to dispute that, but he didn't have the energy or the words. Worse, a small part of him was saying she was right. Sighing, he let the subject fall to the side. "Yeah, I'll have a coffee."


Gavin Reed followed Andy on her way to the break room. By the time he crossed the bullpen and made it to the doorway, she was already putting a second cup under the spout of the coffee maker.

"Hey, Hope."

She didn't spare him a glance. "No."

Irritation flashed on his face, and he whined, "I haven't said anything yet."

"You didn't have to."

Scoffing, he stepped into the room. He remained near the tables, keeping his posture relaxed. "Hey, I'm just trying to be a nice guy and offer you the chance to work on this case I have," He told her.

At last, she looked back at him. She was skeptical as she asked, "Are you cashing in your favor?"

It was a rather casual mention of the secret work he was doing for her, but it was vague enough to be safe. Even so, it knocked him off his game. Shaking his head, he gave a somewhat puzzled, "No?"

She returned her gaze to the coffee maker. "Then I'll pass."

The answer didn't surprise or deter him. In fact, if she cared to pay any attention at all, she would have seen him smirking. He let her pick up the cups and head for exit without a word, waiting until she had reached the doorway before he spoke again: "It's the Elliston murder."

She stopped. Just as he thought she would.

The name Elliston was a dirty word for them both; the eight-year old murder was the only one they were unable to solve. He suspected it haunted her the same way it did for him, and that was confirmed when he turned his head to find her already staring. His smirk grew, and she quietly inquired, "You're reopening it?"

"Maybe," He replied with a shrug.

"Maybe." He nodded at her echo, and he realized this was the point where he lost her. With a snort, she began walking again, leaving him with, "I'm going back to my desk."

He leaped into a long-stride to catch up to her, and walked at her side as he said, "We got an anonymous tip."

"Oh, an anonymous tip. Those are always concrete," She mocked. Reaching her desk, she put her coffee down and handed the other off to Hank, who eyed Reed with heavy suspicion. Andy lowered into her chair, returning her focus to her work terminal.

Reed stayed put, like a looming shadow, or an insistent pest. She wouldn't let him see it, but he knew what he said was getting to her. It was setting underneath her skin, and his lingering presence was making it all the more unbearable. Andy was fairly predictable if you knew what drove her. He paid close attention, and once he saw the muscles tensing as her impatience grew, he grinned. "You want to know-"

"What is it?" She almost yelled.

Hank shook his head, muttering into his coffee cup, "Sure as hell didn't miss this."

Reed ignored him, leaning a hand onto the side of her desk. "Location of the murder weapon," He replied.

"Where?"

He stood straight and began to back up toward his desk. "You can read my report when it's filed," He shrugged.

Her eyes widened in equal parts desperation and annoyance, but she knew what kind of game he was playing. Regaining her posture, she pointed at him and shook her head. "Ah hah-ha, I'm not falling for that."

He said nothing right away. He pulled his jacket off the chair and put it on, then reached for his keys and phone. Dropping them into his pocket, he called out, "You comin' or not, Hope?"

She tried to say no. She wanted to say she didn't care, that he was an idiot for putting so much weight into an anonymous tip, but it was a difficult fight, and it was one she was fast losing. Slamming her hands on the desk, she pushed her chair out and stood to her feet. "Damn it," He heard her curse as she grabbed her jacket.

She turned toward Hank, but he was ahead of her. Waving her off, he grumbled, "I'll take care of it. Go."


When Connor got a call from Desta Delgado about needing his assistance, he didn't have to think twice. She didn't give him many details, preferring to speak face to face, but when she said it was to help Jericho, that was all he needed to hear.

Entering the bullpen, he was directed to the back of the precinct, by the cells. As he neared the corner, he saw Delgado standing beside Chris Miller. They were facing the nearest cell, which so far contained a single, familiar android. Delgado held a stack of papers in her arms and sifted through the pages as she spoke to Miller.

Still standing behind them, Connor called out to her. "Miss Delgado?"

They both turned and spotted him. Miller gave a quiet nod in greeting, and Delgado smiled. "Connor!" She moved to meet him halfway, and said, "Thank you for coming."

He nodded, glancing over her shoulder to the cell - that android was one from Andronikov's basement. "You said it was about Jericho?"

"Yes. Walk with me?" She gestured for him to follow, and so they began to walk along the side of the bullpen toward her temporary office. "You investigated the Andronikov estate, correct?"

Connor nodded. "I did. He was beaten to death by androids who escaped confinement."

"Right. Well, Leona Mun was told about that, and now she's calling for the release of those androids," She explained, stopping in front of the door to turn and face him.

That came with layers of surprise, and Connor took a moment to process them. If this had to do with why he was there, that meant the Andronikov murder investigation had been reopened, at least to some degree. "You've been assigned to handling the case," He concluded.

She waved a hand, saying, "Somewhat. I have to put together a report and a formal suggestion for the DA. This isn't technically opening the case, and I'm not pursuing any legal action."

"So this isn't a hunt."

"No, of course not," She was quick to reject his concerns. "The problem is that I need help. Hank doesn't want any part of it, and Andy isn't available, which means the only free investigator who was there is you," She ended with a gesture toward him.

His brows knitted, a particular comment sticking to the front of his mind. "Why isn't Andy available?"

Delgado didn't think much about his curiosity. She had no reason to. "She's working with Detective Reed on something," Unaware of the alarm bells she'd set off in Connor's head, she waved a hand and brushed off her answer. "I don't know. Will you help me?"

Pushing the concern aside for later, he focused on Delgado. "I'd be glad to help, but is that all right with the captain?"

Tilting her chin up with an air of authority, she nodded and said, "I'm in charge. He said so." She turned to step inside the office, adding, "Not to mention Jericho would feel better if you had input."

He smiled a little at that, replying, "Good thing I'm your last resort, then."

The words brought her to a sudden halt. She spun on her heel to meet his surprised expression with her own defensive one. "Why is everyone being snarky with me?"

Whatever Delgado was going through that morning, he could tell it had been an ordeal. Connor shifted, unsure of how serious the heat was on him. "I... wasn't aware they were."

"They are," She snapped. Her body language slowly relaxed, but her eyes were still sharp. She was thinking about Markus in the meeting, and Andy on the phone, and Hank- Well, that one was just Hank. Pursing her lips, she insisted, "I help Jericho a lot, you know."

Connor didn't hesitate to nod in agreement. "Of course you do."

"I do!"

He tried to make sure he looked her in the eyes this time, and he told her genuinely, "I was being serious, Miss Delgado."

She watched him for any tell that he was lying, but in the end, couldn't find one. She slowly let the irritation chip away, until she nodded and stepped aside to let him in. "Well... Okay."


Along the outer lying edge of Detroit was the Faraday Junkyard. Most of the scenery was built up by scattered piles of abandoned vehicles left to time and the elements. A building was at the right side of the property, long abandoned with its ceiling collapsed. The sign at the entrance was worn and faded, but still managed to stand tall.

Reed was pulling up to the curb by the street when Andy's phone started ringing. Upon seeing Connor's name, she answered before the man in the driver's seat had time to take a curious peek. "Hey," She answered, unbuckling her seatbelt.

He didn't bother with a hello. "You're working a case with Detective Reed?"

After a stressful morning of people being mad at her for various reasons, it was a relief to hear his voice. She watched Reed climb out of the car as she mused, "Hello, Andy, how are you? I'm great, thanks for asking, and you?"

"I-" Connor stopped himself, then confessed, "You're right. I'm sorry."

She smiled, pushing open her own door. "You said my favorite words."

"You're right?" He asked; she could hear his own amusement on the other end.

She gave an affirmative hum, her boots planting on the concrete below. "And the answer to your question is yes, by the way," She said, shutting the door behind her.

"Are you certain that's a good idea?"

She glanced over the roof of the car to her old partner, who was pulling a shovel and a metal detector from the backseat. "Nothing that involves Reed is ever a good idea," She mumbled into the phone. With a reluctant sigh, she added, "But this was the one case we never closed. If we can do that now, I need to see it through."

Connor could understand why it was important, but it didn't ease his concerns any. "Please be careful."

It used to bother her hearing people ask that. She wasn't sure when that changed, but she suspected it had more to do with the android detective than herself. "I'll call you when we're done," She offered gently.

She could hear his relief. "Thank you."

"Lunch later?"

"I'd like that."

"Well okay," She chuckled, "I'll talk to you soon."

She hung up her phone and started to walk around the car. Reed was waiting on the sidewalk, metal detector in hand. "Dating already, Hope?" He taunted.

She wouldn't give him a reaction. Stepping over the curb, she walked past him toward the entrance of the junkyard and replied, "You want to braid my hair and gossip, or you want to debunk this trash tip?"

He scoffed. "It's not a trash tip."

"I'll believe it when we're pulling a weapon out of the ground."

They walked through the lot as Reed kept an eye on his phone. He knew the spot they needed to find, and the GPS on his phone would point the way there. Meanwhile, behind him, Andy looked over the old case file they brought with them.

"When did Daniel move? And to where?" She asked of the victim's husband, flipping a page in the folder.

He shrugged, coming to a stop at an intersection made of car piles. "Seven years ago. Right around the time you went to SID. He's in Dearborn now, I think," He said. When his phone pinged facing the right, he lowered his hand and started off again.

She followed after him. "Neighbors still the same?"

"Yes...," He trailed off to shoot her a look over his shoulder. She'd already started to take on a smug tone, and he was not oblivious. "It's not him."

A snort left her in response. "Yeah right, and your guy's good for it?"

Her dismissal of his own theory around the case wasn't new. Rolling his eyes, he asked, "Well we'll just find out after we follow through on this tip, won't we?"

"Following through on a prank, more like," She chided.

This was the comment that managed to irritate him. Stopping in his tracks, he turned to face her with a smirk and a challenge. "I bet you a steak dinner this is legit."

She was surprised by his stubborn confidence. It may have been oddly pessimistic of her to doubt the tip at all, but this was the case that ate away at her. To think there was a chance now was too great, and she did not believe them that lucky. "You're that certain about this?" She pressed, head tilting.

"I got a good feeling," He shrugged. They'd reached a secluded stretch of dirt along the edge of the junkyard, where he began scanning the earth with his metal detector.

Andy watched a few yards away. Skeptical, she shifted on her feet and began theorizing. "So let's say you're right-"

"I am," He interrupted.

"You're not, but let's say pigs started flying-" She dismissed before going on to say, "Someone watches Daniel Elliston bury a murder weapon they know killed Renee, but they don't call in a tip until eight years later? Seven years after he's already moved?"

He let out a heavy sigh at her cynicism. His shoulders dropped as he threw her a side glance, and said, "If I had all the answers, Hope, the case wouldn't be unsolved, now would it?"

She shook her head, returning to her case folder. "All I'm saying is it's weird."

"Weird happens all the time," He exclaimed, turning to face her in his pacing. Pointing at her, he accused, "You're just mad you're wrong."

Her eyes shot up at him to deliver a sharp stare. "I'm never wrong."

As if fate itself heard her, the metal detector started beeping. Their taunting of each other quickly died, and Reed followed the noise with excitement. It didn't take long to track the source of the signal. Within seconds, he was standing over where he believed his treasure to be buried.

He paused to turn to Andy. Raising a brow, he asked, "Steak dinner, then. What about it, Hope?"

She stared. Debating. Truth be told, she was beginning to doubt her stance, but she was already deep into the trash talk. The only thing worse than hearing Reed gloat about being right was hearing Reed gloat about her admitting defeat. She had no choice but to double down. Pursing her lips, she finally asked him, "Where?"

It was a dumb question with an obvious answer. "The Chophouse," He scoffed.

Her grimace was in equal intensity. "The Chophouse?"

"Where else would I go?"

"Fishbone's, obviously."

Now it was his turn to express disgust. "Fishbone's got a C on their health score."

She scowled and retorted, "What, are you royalty now? That's what makes it good."

He held up a hand to stop the argument in its track, and inhaled a quiet breath. "Okay, I win, Chophouse," He pointed at her, adding, "You win, dumpster fire."

With a reluctant nod from Andy, he started digging.


Hank was finding tedious work to drown himself in for the day. He wasn't sure what all he was doing, but it was easy stuff that let him put his brain on autopilot. The migraine that was festering thanked him for it - the bad mood, not so much. It wasn't unlike the days he had before Connor showed up.

That seemed like such a faint memory now, being angry and drunk and unmotivated, and yet he slipped back into that role as if it were just yesterday. It was as natural as breathing at that point, to give up trying to see the world as anything other than difficult and miserable. That was part of being an addict, he guessed.

An addict. It was still weird saying that. It wasn't like it was a surprise, but the knee-jerk instinct to deny it still bubbled up to the surface, even when the one calling him that was himself.

He was so lost in his thoughts, he almost didn't notice the officers who approached his and Andy's desks. They were from the tech lab, he recognized, and while one was turning on Andy's computer, the other stopped beside him.

They were nervous. Must've heard things.

He rolled his eyes and pushed his chair back to let them get to his computer. "Just hurry up," He grumbled. They expressed relief, but he wasn't listening. He was focused on watching them go through his and Andy's work emails, as well as making sure neither of them had backup accounts that sent anything to Leona Mun. It was invasive, but Fowler was unfortunately within his rights to search their office computers.

Didn't change how humiliating it was, though.

How did things end up like this? A part of him wanted to blame Andy. If she really wasn't the leak, her influence on the department sure wasn't helping any. If she was the leak, then she was lying to him. She was putting him in the line of fire while she was at it, but that was a normal place for him to be with Fowler. The lying was what bothered him the most. Partners needed to trust each other, and regardless of what they found on those computers, he could already tell a rift had formed.

Andy didn't trust him. Not in the way she should.

He supposed that was part of being an addict, too.


The pigs were flying, as Reed would say.

Upon digging where the metal detector went off, he and Andy found a buried handgun. They put it in an evidence bag, and the two left to turn it into the lab, but not before stopping by an ATM. It was the most expensive evidence Andy would ever find.

"'I know where the gun that killed Renee Elliston is buried. It's at the edge of the Faraday Junkyard. You have to search the junkyard.'"

They were waiting at the medical examiner's office. They waited by the exam table, Reed pacing while Andy read the transcript of the call that was made to the tip line. It was an interesting conversation. Whoever left the tip was desperate to be taken seriously, almost pleading with the person on the line to get his info to people who could do something about it.

They were also oddly specific about said information. "The tipster had coordinates?" Andy asked, focusing on the navigational points written at the end of the transcript. When her partner didn't offer any comments, she looked up and saw Reed deep in thought. "Reed!"

He jolted in surprise. "Huh?"

"Are you listening?" She pressed, annoyed.

He took on a pleased smirk, and she immediately regretted asking. "No, I was thinking about what kind of steak I was gonna get tonight," He gloated, continuing in his pacing.

Andy rolled her eyes to the ceiling and groaned, "Oh my god..."

He began to cackle at her pain, but the door opened before he could torture her any longer. The medical examiner strode into the room with a box in hands, looking rather unhappy to be there with them. "All right, lady and gentleman, I have two autopsies and three meetings to get through before more cases start popping up today, and I loathe repeating myself simply because you failed your part of the investigation, so let's make this quick, shall we?"

The detectives listened to his grumpy complaints, and then Andy crossed her arms and asked, "Do you ever breathe, Bandey?"

He shot her a dead stare. "Who has time for that?" He retorted, picking up his tablet from the side of the table. Scrolling through his database, he mumbled under his breath as he searched, "Female, aged thirty-two, signs of a struggle..." Poking the screen, he declared, "Ah. Here we are. Skull fracture. You have the potential murder weapon?"

Reed stepped forward and placed a replica of the firearm on the table in front of him. "Here you go," He replied.

Bandey eyed it with contempt. "That appears to be a toy."

"It's a 3D print of the gun we found," Reed defended.

Beside him, Andy gave more information. "The actual weapon is being tested."

"My patience knows how it feels," The examiner chided. Opening the box, he reached in and pulled out photos to place them out on the table. "I may not be able to comment on the gunshot, but I can certainly tell you whether or not it could have caused this," He said, pointing to the relevant markings on the forehead.

He began his work, and the room settled into silence. Feeling a vibration in her pocket, Andy turned to her phone and found a message waiting for her. "Gun was traced."

Reed's brows furrowed. "That was fast. Thought we were on a waiting list," He commented.

She shrugged, reading over the rest of the message. "We were. I pulled some strings."

Scoffing, Reed asked, "What, you wanted a chance to brag about it belonging to someone else as soon as possible?"

She took on an insulted expression. With a deep frown, she snapped, "Or maybe this is an important case to me because it's been cold all these years. Not everything is about you and your ego."

He didn't look particularly sympathetic, but he also believed it. He held up an apologetic hand and turned back toward the medical examiner. "Sorry."

"I also wanted to rub it in your face," She quickly confessed, her tone chipper. Her lips pulled up into a grin as she turned her phone around to face him. "Which I get to do, because it was bought nine years ago by one Aaron Bronson."

It was a name they knew well. Aaron Bronson was the very neighbor she'd set her sights on eight years ago, and at the mention of him, Reed did a double take. "What- Let me see that," He muttered, snatching her phone out of her hand.

She let him do so without a fight, her shoulders shaking from quiet laughter. "Have at it," Turning on her heel toward him, she puffed up her chest in arrogance, "Let it really soak in how much smarter I am."

"Well, hold on, this might not even be the murder weapon for this case," He argued.

As if fate could hear him, Bandey had come to a conclusion. "That would be an awful coincidence, considering this piece of plastic you've brought me aligns to the body's other wounds."

The detectives looked toward him with opposing emotions. With an irritated grimace, Reed sighed, "You couldn't wait ninety seconds to tell us that?"

Now it was his turn to fall under Bandey's dull stare. "I am barely being patient with you now," He jeered.

Gesturing toward her partner, Andy pulled the conversation back to what mattered: she was right. "Come on, Reed, what happened to that 'good feeling' you wouldn't shut up about?" She asked him with a wide, taunting smile.

Reed was crumbling under the attempts to backpedal. "Hey, I thought we'd find something, and we did. I'm just saying maybe it belongs to a separate crime."

"Oh, cut the shit," She scoffed, shaking her head.

Realizing the tables had been turned, he pointed at her and exclaimed, "You didn't even think that tip would lead to anything!"

That didn't deter her any. With a confident nod, she told him, "And the T-bone you're eating tonight means I've accepted I was mistaken! You should take a page out of my book."

She didn't wait for a response before she snatched her phone out of his hands and left him dumbfounded in the office.


In the office temporarily granted to Delgado, she and Connor went over every minute of the Andronikov case. She had sifted through files, one by one, while Connor offered short words of confirmation or correction. He walked her through their deductions, stressing that rather than flee at the first opportunity, the man's captors stayed behind to contain him. He explained that this led them to believe an android escaped, and the others were protecting them, which resulted in Andronikov's car being found on the side of the road not far from an abandoned amusement park.

From there, she knew where they ended: a sting operation on Nick Weaver to retrieve the androids, and the quant Chapman farmhouse where Andy lied about her discovery.

All of this meant that it was time to talk to Adam again.

They waited half an hour for him to arrive, and when the door to the office opened, they expected to see Adam Chapman, and only Adam Chapman. Markus was far too busy to join him, and Rose Chapman was still in Canada. Instead, he was there - but with him was Jericho's new lawyer. She came armed with a briefcase strapped over her shoulder, and she stood at his side like a knight in dark polyester.

"Miss Mun," Delgado greeted as she and Connor stood to their feet. "You're here."

Leona was steadfast in comparison to Adam, who was trying to make himself look small. She nodded, explaining, "Mister Chapman's dealings with androids fall under Jericho's operations."

"Of course," Delgado mumbled. It shouldn't have been surprising, but she couldn't deny she felt a little blindsided.

The same could almost be said of Connor's presence. Leona focused on him with a critical eye, and asked, "Are you consulting on this?"

He nodded. "Yes, Miss Delgado thought my expertise would be valuable."

Gesturing toward the nearest desk, Delgado pushed things along. "Shall we?"

Adam was hesitate to join them. He glanced between the other three in the room, and asked with wide eyes, "I'm not... in any kind of trouble, am I?"

Delgado shook her head. "No, Mister Chapman, you're not. We just want some information."

Leona moved past him to place her briefcase on the desk. Once she lowered into a chair, he followed her lead and sat down beside her. She spoke for him, delivering a cool look toward the DDA. "What did you wish to ask?"

Delgado rested her hip against the corner of the desk. "The reason the Andronikov case hasn't been closed is because we believe there were androids involved who escaped his estate."

"You're suggesting the Chapmans aided them," Leona concluded.

There was a small pause as Delgado and Connor shared a glance. "Well... yes," She confirmed.

Leaning forward, Leona continued, "You want Mister Chapman to implicate himself to help you prosecute escaped androids."

"N..." This was not going the way Delgado hoped. Recollecting herself, she waved a hand in refusal and focused on Adam, assuring him, "The District Attorney isn't interested in going after you for anything."

Adam almost looked relieved, but Leona was quick to interject. "I would be more inclined to believe that if police had initially released all their androids from evidence storage."

She was beginning to get annoying. Delgado frowned, arguing, "If I wanted Adam, I would have gone after him when Detective Hope delivered him to me on a silver platter a week ago-" Eyes darting toward Adam, she added, "A detective, need I remind you, who risked her career to protect his privacy."

Leona's response was swift. "A detective your own office would have prosecuted if not for Channel 16."

It was like a verbal slap in the face for the DDA, and she didn't know what to say next. Connor could almost see her reel back at the comment; he needed to step in, and fast. He tried to bridge the gap between android and authority, saying, "Jericho needs to cooperate with the authorities-"

"You're right." Delgado's interruption surprised everyone. They turned to her and saw her still staring at Leona, with equal parts frustration and guilt.

She may have pushed Internal Affairs to let Andy off the hook, but that was only possible because of the PR nightmare the department wanted to avoid. That was not the case for the Chapman family, and they had no reason to believe otherwise. It was not an easy thing to swallow, but it was the truth.

She sighed, and told them, "We'll give him full immunity if he provides us with his records."

It was what Leona was waiting to hear. "I want to see that on paper."


After they consulted the medical examiner, and with their new lead on the gun, Andy and Reed's next stop was Bronson Construction. The mostly barren lot held a small number of trailers around the property, with an area furthest from the street reserved for collection of materials. In the middle of the lot was parked machinery, and beside that, a few picnic tables for lunch breaks.

A teenage boy sat at the table on the end closest to the entry of the lot. In front of him was a laptop and a notepad surrounded by a mess of textbooks, tools, and pieces of an unknown gadget. His attention had left his work, however, when he spotted two detectives by the curb. He watched them walk across the property until they noticed him, and then he quickly turned his focus downward.

Andy and Reed had been looking for the main office, where they were told Aaron Bronson was located, until they realized they were being watched. The teen looked out of place at the site, and it drew them over to him.

He kept to reading his laptop. Standing at the opposite side of the table, Reed got his attention. "Hey."

Slowly, the boy looked up. "Hi," He muttered.

"Odd place for a kid," Reed commented.

"Odd place for cops."

They weren't surprised by the remark, considering their badges sat at their waistlines, but it also didn't take long for Reed to recognize him, either. "You're Max Bronson," He declared, gesturing to their lead suspect's only son.

Max's work stopped. His brows knitted in suspicion, and he asked, "How do you know who I am?"

Reed grinned and shrugged. "I guessed."

Just behind him, Andy offered a more calming answer. "We met when you were younger. I'm Detective Hope," She slipped her hands into her pockets, nodding toward her partner. "That's Reed."

He remembered their names. He almost started to relax, his nerves becoming curiosity. "You were trying to solve Missus Elliston's murder," He said, moreso to himself than them.

Reed nodded anyway. "Yes we were."

Something else flashed in his eyes - they would see it a lot from him - but it was gone so soon, they didn't have a chance to decipher it. "Is that why you're here?" He asked, his voice slow.

"Why, do you know something?" Reed asked, almost jokingly.

Max did not find it humorous. His eyes darted back to the table, and he muttered a flat, "No."

Reed didn't expect it to work, but he still found the reaction odd. "Okay. Well if that changes, give me a call," He said, pulling a business card from his wallet and holding it out. When Max hesitated, Reed assured, "It's just a card."

After several seconds of deep consideration, Max took the card. As he shoved it into his pocket, a yell rang out from behind the detectives. "Can I help you?"

The two of them turned and found Aaron Bronson approaching. He appeared ready for an altercation until he saw who they were, and then his firm expression faded. "I know you two," He slowed to a stop in front of them, "You investigated what happened to Renee."

Reed was the one to connect with Aaron the most during the initial investigation; it was the reason he was so certain Aaron wasn't responsible then. It was also why he would take the lead in talking to the man. Extending his hand, he gave a short greeting, "Detective Reed." They shook hands as he continued, "We're reopening her case."

Whether it was fear or gratitude, Aaron's eyes widened. "Really? Is there new evidence?" He asked, excited. Reed began denying him an answer, and he noticed the body language. He waved a hand, dismissing his own question. "Right, you can't say. I get it. Please, let me know if there's anything I can do."

"We could go somewhere quiet to sit and talk," Reed suggested with a casual shrug.

If Aaron suspected anything, he didn't show it. Nodding, he replied, "Yeah, absolutely. We can go to my office."

Aaron started to lead them away from the table, but Andy remained where she was. Reed shot her and Max one last glance before turning to follow the older Bronson.

Max didn't give Andy any more time, but she could see him watching his dad out of the side of his eye. Welcoming herself to the bench at the opposing side of the table, she told him, "Don't worry, he's just asking your dad a few questions."

His fingers were tapping the edge of his notebook, and his tone was tense. "Questions about what?"

She shrugged. "Nothing big. It'll be an in-and-out process." She rested her elbows on the table and tried to start a casual conversation, asking, "How's your mom?"

That was a line of questioning he definitely didn't want to entertain. With an annoyed frown, he turned back to his work and began to mark on the pages. "Shouldn't you be... I don't know, in there with my dad and the other guy?" He deflected.

"Reed?" She shook her head. "Nah, he's got it under control."

Her dismissal left him huffing and returning to his silence. She didn't take it personally - cops were never the friendliest of faces, and he'd already been through more than the average kid. She let them sit in quiet a while, as she looked over the items scattered around the table. Reaching out to pick at the edge of what she identified as a propeller, she asked, "You working on a drone?"

His nod was almost unnoticeable. "It's for my college application."

"Colbridge?"

Again, Max was startled by knowledge he didn't think the people in front of him should have. When he looked up at her, she pointed to a corner of a college pamphlet sticking out from within the pages of his notebook. He quickly tucked it back in, but replied, "They want applicants to bring an invention to the interview."

She hummed in thought. "Kamski went to Colbridge, didn't he?"

He paused before answering, "Yeah. He went to Colbridge."

"Bet your mom's happy you're following her footsteps."

That comment was what managed to stop him. She'd hit a nerve, and she didn't understand how until he muttered a quiet, "Wouldn't know."

"Oh... Got it," She sighed. Whether his mother's absence was voluntary or not, her heart went out to him immediately.

He seemed to have something at the front of his mind, so Andy decided to change strategy. She would relax and wait for him to come to her. Resting her chin on her knuckles, she looked around at the lot. Some familiar faces still seemed to work at the company, and she made a mental note to approach them later.

"Do you..." She turned her head back to see Max trying to gather enough courage to ask her a question. The pen in his hand did at least three rotations before he tried again. "Were you the one with Kamski at the tower last week?"

Now it was her turn to be thrown off guard, until she remembered all the news stations that recorded her escorting Elijah Kamski to and from CyberLife Tower. "Yeah, that was me."

That excited him. For the first time since she got there, he looked like the kid she met eight years prior. "What's he like?"

She could have answered him, but she had a hunch that another subject would lower his guard with her even more. Shrugging, she replied, "Not as interesting as Connor, but he-"

"Wait, wait-" Victory. Max did a double take, shaking his head slightly and sitting up straighter. He was no longer trying to keep to himself or ignore her when he asked, "You know Connor?"

With a small grin, she said, "You could say that, yeah."

"Is he as good as they say? Th-That he's a super detective?"

She gave an affirmative hum and a nod. Pointing a finger at him, she added, "He's not perfect, though. No one and nothing is."

He had trouble believing that, and he raised a brow in confusion. "But he's pretty much his own lab," He argued with a small laugh.

She scoffed. "That's only half the job. The other half is guess work, intuition, and social skills."

"Which is where humans excel," He murmured, catching on.

"For now, for the most part. Who knows what he'll be good at in a year?"

As quickly as he was opening up, he started to shut down again. Trying to make himself small again, he glanced to the office where Reed and his father were talking. "Dad thinks they're gonna take all our jobs," He muttered. It was a tone that said he was recounting a rant he'd heard far too many times.

Andy knew it wouldn't be the last of the anti-android attitudes, but what was more important was Max's reluctance to agree. "Do you believe that?" She asked him.

He shook his head. "No."

"Good." Grinning, she added, "You should challenge what your parents say. It helps you stand up to them later."

Although he didn't respond, her words struck him more than she realized. He tried to return to his work, but ended up staring blankly at the page in his notebook. Another moment passed before he broke the silence. "Mom developed all the tech dad's company uses on site. Y'know, demolition bots, geoscanning drones, VR mapping..."

Andy wasn't expecting him to speak again, let alone bring the subject back to his mother. Now she was getting the feeling he was letting out something he didn't share often, if ever.

"Her favorite stuff were these little robots. They never did a lot - like one just fills the bird feeder when it's empty," He described with a faint smile. "But she wanted to put them in all their houses, to be more accessible."

The smile died, and his voice hardened. "Then she left when I was nine."

It wasn't just sad news. It was suspicious. But that was something she'd bring up with Reed, not a child clearly still dealing with his pain. All she could offer him was her sympathy. "That... really sucks."


Reed followed Aaron into his office further to the back of the lot. It was a converted trailer, and his desk was crammed into the corner with a second chair by the door. As Aaron moved to sit behind his desk, Reed found a space to lean against a file cabinet. "Mind if I speak to your wife, too?"

Lowering into his chair, Aaron huffed, "If you can find her. She went out west, according to the private investigator I payed way too much for." He turned away from his desk to better face the detective, and propped his elbow on the edge of the surface. "She walked out on us about a year or two after the accident."

The news surprised Reed. After a small pause, he said, "Sorry to hear that."

"Ah, we were drifting," Aaron shrugged, his expression mostly apathetic. "Woulda been nice if she told me that before it was 'unfixable,' but what can you do? Least she signed the divorce papers I sent her."

"Do you know how we could get in touch with her?"

He shook his head. "No, sorry. All we ever hear from her are these birthday cards she sends Max every year. She can't even spare a phone call."

"What about the PI?"

He glanced up at the ceiling, trying to recall the name. "Roger... something. Something Roger..." They fell into silence as he thought about it, until finally he snapped his fingers. "Hugh. Hugh Rogers."

"Thanks," Reed typed the name into a note on his phone. Tilting his head up, he said, "I noticed you said accident earlier- about Elliston."

Aaron didn't seem to notice he'd done it. "Oh. Yeah. Jeanine, she, uh- She didn't want us calling it a murder around Max. Thought it'd scare him." He looked almost forlorn as he shrugged and muttered, "It just stuck."

"Does he remember anything?" Reed asked about the boy.

Another shrug. "He remembers the small stuff, you know, what her lasagna tasted like, or these games they'd play when she'd babysit," Aaron finished with a small chuckle. The amusement was short-lived, and as his expression faded, he mumbled, "He has nightmares sometimes."

Reed was skilled at lowering someone's guard, but that was usually through annoyance and cockiness. The emotional stuff was better left to his partners. Shifting against the cabinet, all he could offer was a small, "That's gotta be tough."

"Yeah. He doesn't think I know." Shaking his head, he mused, "He's my son. It's my job to know these things." Leaning forward on his knees, he moved the conversation along. "So what do you need from me?"

Reed was grateful they didn't linger. "I have a couple questions." Referencing his notes, he started with the question, "You never knew the Ellistons to own firearms, correct?"

Aaron shook his head. "No, Renee hated guns. She'd flip if you brought so much as a nerf gun into the house."

"How'd Jeanine feel?"

This was the first moment to tip him off to Reed's true motives, but it was too early to retract his helpful behavior without looking suspicious. Narrowing his eyes, he replied, "Same as Renee. Why?"

Reed shrugged. "Just wondering how she felt about yours."

There was an even longer pause this time. Staring at the detective, Aaron stated firmly, "I don't have a gun."

"Oh, you don't?" Tilting his head, Reed muttered, "That's weird."

"What's going on?"

Gesturing to the man, he explained, "We found one that was traced back to you. You bought it a year before Renee died."

"Wait." Aaron held up a hand to stop Reed. "I thought I was helping you guys out," He said with a deepening frown.

Reed nodded as though it was obvious. "You are. You're gonna talk about how, when, and why you got rid of your firearm."

With an indignant huff, Aaron shook his head. He began to stand from his chair, starting, "This is unbelievable."

"Mister Bronson-"

"You're a son of a bitch, you know that?" He exclaimed on his feet.

Reed leaned off the cabinet and mused, "So I've been told."

"You know what? You want to talk to me, you call my lawyer," Aaron yelled, pointing between them, and then to the door. "Get the hell out of here."

There was no point in trying to deescalate things, so Reed wordlessly left the trailer. Aaron followed him to the door, and stood outside the steps to watch and ensure the detectives really left.

By the time he made it to Andy and Max at the picnic table, they were already done with their own conversation. When they looked his way, Max noticed his brooding father in the distance. He looked to Andy in concern, but she smiled and said, "See? In and out, no problem."

She stood from the table to join Reed, who nodded a quiet farewell to Max but continued walking by. Andy seamlessly joined him at his side, and as they crossed the lot, she asked, "What'd he say?"

Reed kept his eyes forward and his stride confident. "He denied owning a gun, and called me a son of a bitch."

"So he was only half lying," She joked. He shot her a pointed look, which she ignored. "You ask about the wife?"

They left the lot, and finally stopped to face each other on the sidewalk. Nodding, Reed replied, "Said she left in the middle of the night. You?"

"I got pretty much the same..." It was purely speculative, but Andy wasn't buying it. "Jeanine Bronson was a passionate engineer and a dedicated mother. Why leave both behind like that?"

Reed didn't have an answer, but he did know how they could find out. "He gave me the name of the private investigator who found her. We could give him a call."

She nodded, and turned toward the car. "I think we should."


Leona Mun took her time dissecting the agreement Delgado offered. She went through each page with a critical eye, revisiting a few of them to double-check her information. Delgado was confident in her ability to make good deals, but even she was starting to fidget as the minutes passed.

When the lawyer was finished, she handed the agreement to the young man beside her. "It appears to be the deal Markus wanted for you," She informed.

Adam took it, scanning the words. "This protects my mom, too?" He asked, full of cautious hope.

She nodded. "Her, too."

It still wasn't ideal - he was reporting androids to the authorities, after all - but Markus had been clear after the police department called. Don't put yourself at unnecessary risk, he'd said, Cooperate as long as you're safe.

With a small sigh, Adam stood and put the papers on the desk. "Okay," He agreed, taking a pen from Leona.

While he signed his name, she opened her briefcase and retrieved her tablet. "Who are you looking for?"

Delgado looked to Connor for assistance, so he stepped up. "She would have come to the farm sometime between the sixth and eleventh. She's an AX400 - designed for housekeeping," He paused to display his palm, which projected the same photo he earlier showed Delgado. "She had a child with her."

Adam straightened after he signed the last of his name, and looked to the photo. The image of the familiar android took him by surprise, his mouth opening slightly as he tried to think of what to say.

Connor noticed. "You recognize her," He pressed, his brows raising.

"I..." He glanced to the side, a part of him wishing Leona would jump in and cut the meeting short. After a nervous gulp, he asked, "What are you going to do? You know, to... whoever you find?"

Now it was Connor's turn to refer to Delgado. She didn't answer right away, knowing it was a sensitive subject and Adam was struggling to commit to helping her. "We just want the truth," She said, choosing to be vague.

Adam inhaled a deep breath and began. "All right. I know her. She's one of the last ones we helped before Mom moved." Gesturing to the image in Connor's hand, he added, "She had different hair, though-"

"Short, blonde?" Connor asked, growing excited.

"Yeah," Adam nodded. Beside him, Leona found the relevant entry in her tablet, and handed it off to Connor. "Her name was Kara. The little girl was Alice, but they had someone else with them."

It would seem Leona had documented as many androids as Adam could remember, and Connor had all the information he would get there. As Adam described, there was a the third android listed in Kara's group. He was a new person Connor didn't see in his last encounter with her. "A TR400, based on the description," He explained.

"Luther," Adam told him. Shrugging, he said, "They didn't say how they met."

"He was likely at Andronikov's." Handing the tablet to Delgado, he explained, "Kara and Alice were owned by a man named Todd Williams. He never told authorities about the child, but we found records of her purchase, along with a lived-in child's room in the house."

Adam backed him up. "They said he was abusive. That Kara 'deviated' because she saw him hurt Alice."

"It confirms the theory I had," Connor murmured. "Where did they go after the farm?"

The question had Adam feeling hesitant again, but after a moment, he replied, "Mom sent them to Markus, and he got them IDs. We... met them again, at the border." Realizing how important that statement was, and recognizing their alertness, he quickly added, "But I don't know where they are now. Mom just gave them a place to hide for a few days, and they never told us where they were going afterward. It was the last I saw of them."

It was helpful - but it was not what Delgado wanted to hear. "Okay... Okay," She tried to sound more pleased than she did, but there was a new problem looming over her. "That was... good. Thank you for speaking with us."

With her tablet returned to her, Leona placed it in her briefcase. "Thank you," She replied, pulling the strap of her bag over her shoulder. She ushered Adam toward the door and followed him across the room. "And if you find Kara's group," She paused to turn back toward Delgado and Connor. "Please direct them to us. Jericho would like to offer them assistance."

They watched her leave with Adam, not saying anything right away. As skeptical as she may have been of the DPD, she looked particularly satisfied by the end of the meeting. It was clear that Leona knew how to play games, and wasn't above doing so. Quietly, Connor mused, "I know she gave you what you asked for, but I feel she won that exchange entirely."

Delgado hummed, nodding in agreement before moving on to the more pressing issue: Kara's whereabouts. "Canada still insists they're 'android-free.' They're not going to admit three androids made it past their border, let alone help us find them," She scoffed and muttered, "Just like that, our lead dies."

Her ill mood didn't sit well with Connor. Kara may have played an important role in the events surrounding Andronikov's death, but her account of the story wasn't necessary when they had the other androids. Delgado's motive was looking less to be about collecting information and more about making an arrest, and it was getting harder for Connor to remain optimistic. If the goal was to detain more innocent androids, he wanted no part in it. He wouldn't go back to the version of himself that he hated.

"Maybe... that's for the best," He started carefully, "If you find Kara now, you've only added another android to your list of problems."

Delgado didn't stop to consider it. Shaking her head, she argued, "She's already on that list, and looking the other way is what got us into this mess in the first place."

His eyes narrowed; this mess was about equal rights. With a growing suspicion, he asked, "Were you assigned to review this case, or to close it?"

Her jaw almost dropped when she noticed his growing distaste. The last thing she needed was more of the kind of judgement Markus had delivered that morning. "I'm not the bad guy, Connor," She insisted, her tone taking offense.

"I would like to believe that," He retorted.

Scoffing, she waved her arms up into an exaggerated shrug and delved into a frustrated tangent. "I have to balance what Jericho needs with what the law says and what my boss wants. If I make one wrong move, I get fired, and then you have to deal with a DDA who cares a lot less than I do."

He understood that, saying, "No one expects this to be easy."

"Well they're not trying to lighten the load, either," She exclaimed. Pacing away from him, she continued, "If the president decides androids are intelligent life, we're releasing those androids anyway. Now that all this is front and center, I have no choice in how I handle it."

Connor could recognize the point she was making, but she was forgetting - or choosing to ignore - something important. "Seeing you choose to release those androids while the world is still watching may show the president how crucial equality would be. It could give androids who have been seeing nothing but terror on the news some hope."

"Hope doesn't win. Action does," She snapped, shoving photos into their evidence box on the desk. She gestured to him, saying, "And the only way I can do anything is if I keep my position at the DA's office."

That kind of thinking was one Connor was all too familiar with. It never led where you thought it would. With a deepening frown and a hard stare, he warned her, "In my experience, Miss Delgado, the job controls you, not the other way around."

It stopped Delgado in her tracks. She knew the experience he was speaking from, and she didn't have an argument against it.

Connor only continued. "We are dealing with violent offenders. People are saying they'll do terrible things if they don't get what they want, and we don't know if the president is listening to them," He paused, perhaps realizing the weight of his statement for the first time himself. Jericho was up against such great odds. It was frightening. He collected himself, murmuring, "We have to show her terrorism can't stop progress, and we have to be loud about that. The world doesn't change quietly."

Delgado was quiet a long while. She still believed doing her job at the highest caliber was critical - but she couldn't deny what he was saying, either. For now, she would have to wait to handle Kara later. There were other witnesses who would soon be ready to interview, after all. Her voice was much quieter as she said, "We still need to talk to the androids involved." Rolling her eyes, she complained, "The ones who are here, anyway."

"I should talk to them on my own," He offered quickly. "They're wary of humans, and... you might seem..."

She rose a brow. "Intimidating?"

"Uptight."

Her eyes narrowed. With a small pout, she said, "Andy calls me uptight."

Shit. Andy. He couldn't believe it, but he had forgotten their plans for lunch. "She isn't incorrect," He mumbled, distracted by texting Andy to find out where they would meet. "I have to go."

Her shoulders dropped, "What? Where?"

"I'll be back in half an hour," He assured on his way past her to the door. Before he left, he called out, "Make sure Andronikov's androids are ready."


Minutes later, Connor was rushing into a diner a few blocks down from the precinct. He scanned over the booths along the wall, but never found Andy. He didn't pass her on the way there, so the lunch off wasn't a loss just yet. Either she was late as well, or she could have been in the bathroom, or-

"Nice of you to join me."

Or she was sitting at the bar to the left of the door. Her back and elbows rested against the counter, and she had a small to-go box in her hand. One of her legs was hooked over her knee, and she watched him with patient amusement.

He could do nothing but look apologetic. "I'm sorry," He said as she slid off her bar stool and joined him by the entrance. "Leona Mun was reading over the DA's immunity agreement for Adam Chapman."

She didn't linger on his being late. She knew what their lives were like, and how much time the department could take from you. A quiet lunch with the earphones in and a scroll through the internet was a welcome break in her day with Reed, anyway. Stopping in front of him, she chirped, "Guess you'll just have to walk me back to the precinct."

He smiled. Opening the door, he stepped back to let her out first, and replied, "It's the least I can do."

She nodded her head in mock gratitude and walked out of the diner. He came up beside her, and they fell into a matching pace. "So Adam got immunity?" She asked.

He nodded and explained the meeting, "He confirmed that he met with the AX400 Hank and I were searching for. He and his mother helped them cross the border shortly after Andronikov was killed."

With a small snort, she mumbled, "Bet Delgado's happy about that one."

That was an understatement. "She's discouraged, but we still have the other androids to talk to."

"That's going to be heavy," She replied. Focusing on him, she asked, "How are you doing?"

"I'm..."

Her lips turned upward in a soft smile. He had to know the hesitation wasn't going to be overlooked. Nudging his arm with her elbow, she asked, "Come clean. What is it?"

A part of him worried about coming across too negatively and disrespecting a close friend of Andy's. When it came down to it, he knew Delgado wasn't the 'bad guy', as she put it, but it was becoming clearer than it had been that they were still standing on different sides of the fight.

He kept his response somewhat vague. With a hesitant sideways glance, he said, "Miss Delgado and I are in a disagreement about her priorities."

Andy didn't need more details to understand. Being Delgado's friend meant she knew these less than pleasant things. "She gets caught up in the red tape sometimes. You gotta keep poking her and reminding her she's actually got morals."

"I'm hoping my interview with Andronikov's androids will be a big enough poke." He finally expressed the concern that had been growing in his gut, saying, "I don't want to feel like I'm a deviant hunter again."

"Then don't become one. Talk to the androids for them, not for the case. Talk to them like..."

At her pause, Connor tilted his head and smiled a little. "Your mother?"

The realization slapped her in the face. With a slow inhale, she suggested instead, "Like Markus."

He could tell the mention of Natalie's work brought some discomfort. Even with their relationship having been mended years ago, there were memories there that still sat with her. He wondered if he could some day pull at those threads and understand them better, but that was a deeply sensitive conversation for another time. For now, he would let her push it out of her mind, and reply, "I will try my best to be their guardian."

The relaxed shoulders were a faint indication that she was thankful he moved on. Slipping her free hand into her pocket, she mused, "You were never a good deviant hunter, anyway."

He chuckled at the flash of amusement in her eyes. It was an odd compliment, to be sure, but it made him feel better. Straightening his back, he tried to sound casual as he changed gears. "How are things working with Detective Reed?"

She shrugged. "Not as bad as I was expecting. He might even admit I was right by the end of the day."

"You two disagree on your case?"

With ease, she shifted into describing her old murder investigation. "Renee Elliston was struck by the butt of a gun, shot, and then dropped into her pool."

If the body was in the water, he understood why things could have been difficult. "Time of death was inconclusive?"

She looked exhausted by the thought of it. "Her husband was at a work event, but the range the coroner gave us makes it possible for him to have done it before he left the house."

"But you don't believe that."

Pursing her lips, she mumbled, "Doesn't feel right. I think it's the neighbor. His construction company built the neighborhood, the victim was his son's godmother, and her husband was a big investor in his company. Plenty of room for a motive we don't know about." A grin abrupt or appeared on her face, and she finished, "And now with the murder weapon, we can connect him."

He could recognize the smugness on her face. He was a victim to it himself a few times. "I imagine you're not letting Reed forget that?"

Tilting her head and shrugging, she said, "That's how it works. We talk trash, find out who's right, and then talk some more trash."

"And you're always right?" He pushed.

Her smile widened. "I like that you get me," She sang, before turning back to work. "Speaking of my case, though - would a geoscanning drone be able to locate buried objects?"

With a small nod, he explained, "If it had the appropriate radar, it could be designed specifically for that task."

She was in such deep thought, she almost appeared not to realize he'd answered her. He waited patiently, though, and she soon gave context to her question. "The suspect's teenage son was tinkering with one. I think he knows more than he's letting on, I just need to get through to him."

Dealing with people was where Andy did her best work, and Connor told her as much. "I have a hard time believing you're struggling much with that."

Her grin was equal parts flattered and mischievous. "I used you to get to him, y'know."

"Oh?"

She hummed and nodded, "Oh yeah. He asked about Kamski, I mentioned you, he thinks you're cool. Turns out he's a giant nerd."

Her teasing surprised him a little. Taken aback, he turned to her and tried to argue, even though his weak tone made it hard to believe the offense was genuine "I'm... not a nerd," He mumbled.

Rather than backtrack, she doubled down on the statement. Looking up at him, she told him in as sweet a voice she could muster, "I think nerds are cute."

It was such a simple comment, but its effectiveness was beyond his control. That was a weird part of being alive - emotions acting with a mind of their own. He was flustered, and her attempt at hiding her grin showed that not only did she know it, it was her goal all along. "I know what you're doing."

"Is it working?" She asked with a chuckle in her voice.

He didn't stand a chance at lying to her when she could read him so well, but that didn't mean he'd give her the satisfaction. Looking away from her, he muttered, "Just because my LED is yellow doesn't mean it's working."

Quiet laughter broke through, but she would let him pretend. "Okay," She agreed as they reached the steps of the precinct.

He came to a stop before the climb, and she noticed right away. When she turned to face him, he apologized more deeply than he had earlier. "I am sorry I missed lunch."

She still didn't seem bothered by it. With a shrug, she said, "Work's more important right now. I'll still be here when the day's over."

Very seriously, he responded, "I'll make it up to you."

She smiled. "I have no doubt."

They ascended the stairs to the precinct, and upon entering, the secretary at the desk jolted up from her seat. Glancing between them and the chairs by the door, she started, "Andy- You have a..."

Her nerves trailed off her sentence, but it didn't matter. Andy and Connor looked back to find a teenage boy sitting up, clutching his jacket between his knees with his shoulders tense.

Alarm bells rang off in Andy's head. "Max?"

He had already been nervous enough, but at the sight of the android detective next to her, his shock rendered him speechless. He tried to speak, but his brain could only manage to sputter out, "It's you."

Glancing back at Connor, Andy gestured between them and introduced, "Connor, this is Max Bronson."

"The teenager you were telling me about," He commented.

Max scrambled to get out of his chair and stand to his feet. "You- You've heard of me?" He asked. Tossing his jacket into the seat behind him, he extended his hand. "I-I'm Max. Max Bronson." Immediately after he'd said so, Andy's words registered in his head. "But... you know that," He muttered.

Connor ignored the stumble, hoping to ease the boy's nerves. Shaking hands, he said, "Detective Hope tells me you have an interest in AI."

"I'm studying to go to Colbridge," Max told him.

"The university Elijah Kamski attended."

He nodded eagerly. "He donates to the AI department every year. They have the coolest lab."

Connor tilted his head, glancing toward Andy. "They do have the coolest lab," He agreed. Turning back toward Max, he said, "Colbridge will be a good opportunity for you. We'll need more engineers as Jericho grows."

Max was teetering between glowing with pride and shaking from something he had yet to share with them. Watching him closely, Andy asked, "Is everything all right? I don't think your dad would want you here."

He looked to her, and almost changed his mind. Following a big gulp, he asked, "You said you've got to stand up to your parents, right?" He nodded to himself, steeling his courage. "I want to do that."


Andy sent a text to Reed, and waited with Max in one of the conference rooms in the lesser used section of the department. It was only another five minutes before Reed returned from his own lunch. He strode into the room with a coffee in hand, and took note of the suited man standing to the left of his suspect's son.

"Lucas Henson," He greeted with more friendliness than any of them believed to be genuine. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Henson's shoulders rolled uncomfortably. On his good days, he was a reserved, somewhat humble man. Reed reminded of his high school days, though. Being around the louder attitude, the veneer would chip away and leave him feeling high-strung. Waving a hand toward Andy, he explained, "The... detective requested a public defender. For Mister Bronson."

Reed's stare went to Andy. "Did she?"

She returned it with an unimpressed scowl. Whether lawyers made things more difficult or not, she wasn't willing to take advantage of a child's mental state for a case. Especially today. "He's a kid, Reed," She retorted.

Max didn't like not being an active participant in the discussion about him. "I want to talk," He stressed, looking between the detectives.

Standing by the chairs where they sat, Reed put his cup down on the table and crossed his arms. "All right then, what do you got, kid?"

The focus was entirely back to Max now, and it started to make him second guess himself. He stared down at his lap, and he fiddled his thumbs. He wouldn't speak first, so Andy did the honors. "Does it have anything to do with calling in to the tip line?"

It surprised Reed, but not any more than it did Max. His eyes shot up at her, which was all the confirmation she needed. Lucas Henson recognized it as well, and pushed a finger into the boy's shoulder to stop him from speaking. "You didn't search that number," He accused. "No department in this city has identified a tipster in years. It scares off potential future callers."

Andy gave half a shrug. "We didn't search the number. I saw the drone Max was working on." With a small grin toward Max, she told him, "Coordinates aren't common tips."

After a pause, Henson looked down at the boy, who confessed, "I thought it was the only way you'd take it seriously."

"What I want to know is how you knew to look," Andy murmured.

Reed jumped in, adding, "And how you knew it was about Renee."

"I guessed," Max grumbled.

Reed's brows went up in disbelief, and his hands moved to his hips. "A guess," He repeated.

Max took offense to the skepticism. Looking to Andy, he started to protest, "You said it yourself, half of detective work is intuition-"

"All right, calm down," Andy stopped them both from making the situation any worse. She focused on the boy in front of her, leaning forward to press her elbows to her knees. "Max, ignore Reed," She instructed, looking him in the eyes.

"Hey!"

She didn't let Reed complain, continuing, "You wanted to talk to me. I've got your back, I promise." She kept his attention now, and she could see him regaining what little bit of courage he had earlier. "Why were you looking for your dad's gun?"

He grimaced, and cast his gaze downward, but at least he wasn't shutting himself away again. "I heard my parents arguing. When I was a kid. Mom found a gun in the house, and she was yelling all this stuff about Dad and Missus Elliston." As his face twisted, his knuckles went white from his tightening grip. "Then suddenly she wasn't yelling anymore."

Neither detective was willing to speak and risk scaring him off, but they shared a dark glance that said enough for them.

"I was on the other side of the house, and I still heard muffled voices, so I thought they were just talking things out, but-" Feeling his emotions climb, he stopped himself for a moment. The grimace had turned angry, and his knee began to bob up and down as he swallowed the urge to cry. "I heard the front door. And when I looked out the window, I saw my dad backing out of the driveway in his truck. So I got out of bed to go check on Mom."

Head lowering further, he managed to finish his memory with a quiet, shaky voice. "She wasn't there. Dad came back a few hours later with dirt on his jeans."

"You never saw your mom leave?" Andy asked, taking care to soften her tone more than usual.

He lifted his gaze just enough to shake his head. "I may have missed her in the truck, you know? It was dark, and I was on the second floor. But I didn't see her."

"So you started looking for her."

"No one else would," He whispered. It was an answer Andy was more than familiar with.

Reed finally stepped back into the conversation, asking, "Why that junkyard?"

Max shrugged a little, and said, "It wasn't the junkyard at first. I started with the construction lot. Then this field Dad used to drive by every morning and talk about buying one day."

"You were going down a list," Andy realized.

He nodded in confirmation. "It's why it took so long to find the gun," He mumbled. "I thought about leaving it, but... maybe that's all he did, right?" Looking between them, he tried to let some optimism back in. It was faint, and the shaking bottom lip gave him away, but he could try, couldn't he? "Maybe he buried the gun to show Mom it wasn't in the house, but she didn't care anymore. Maybe she still left like he said."

Between shooting down his last bit of hope and giving him too much - there was no good response. Instead, Andy stood and reached forward to squeeze his shoulder. "We're gonna make some calls. Stay here, all right?"

He nodded again; he had no intention to go home until he had answers now.

Henson replaced Andy in the chair in front of Max, and began speaking to him quietly as the detectives stepped out. They didn't go far once they left the conference room. As soon as the sound-proof door shut, Reed was running a hand over his mouth and letting out his frustration. "Jesus Christ..."

As he paced in the hallway, she looked over her shoulder into the room. This was an extreme neither of them had ever seen children resort to before in their careers. But Max was smart, and dedicated, and Jeanine had clearly made sure of that. The chances that she had ever willingly left him behind were slimmer than they were that morning.

Watching Reed come to a stop, she whispered, "We need to find Jeanine Elliston."

His hand was twitching at his side in growing frustration. He was looking over her shoulder into the room, the same train of thought running through his own mind. With a sharp shake of his head, he spat as he turned to walk away, "We need goddamn cadaver dogs, is what we need."


After he parted ways with Andy, Connor went to meet with Delgado in the observation room. She had told an officer to bring in one of Andronikov's androids, and as she finished writing in her notes, an android was led into the interrogation room next door.

Upon sitting down, the android slumped over the table and never looked up from her lap. Her chest and limbs had been burnt until the skin was a charred black, but they still kept their functionality - perhaps one of Zlatko's experiments on durability. The seams at the back of her head were detached from the front, but remained connected to the bolts and wiring inside.

Connor had been staring. Hearing Delgado clear her throat startled him back into reality, and he found her watching him with great care. "Are you ready?" She asked, brows raising.

He wasn't. The last time he spoke to any of Andronikov's androids, it was to gather the location of Jericho while he was still chained to CyberLife. Despite how much had changed since, facing them felt like facing a part of his past. It was like facing his guilt. "I don't know," He finally admitted.

She couldn't hold the hesitation against him. She was patient as she offered, "If you don't want to do this, I can take over."

"No." He looked down at her and said, "They need a familiar face."

She was still unsure, but she would let him go until he called on her. Once she gave him the clear to begin, he strode out of the room without giving himself a chance to change his mind. Seconds later, he was entering the interrogation room.

The android never acknowledged him. He shifted awkwardly by the other side of the table, and introduced himself. "My name is Connor. I'm... with Jericho."

She didn't move, or utter a sound.

Stepping forward, he explained, "They want to help you and the others get somewhere safe. Away from the humans."

More silence.

He had to convince her he was there for her; he just needed her to hear him. He pulled out the empty chair and sat down across from her. "They have their own people and equipment. They can help you," He told her. Leaning over the table, he softly asked, "Will you talk about what happened?"

Finally she addressed him, but it was with a glazed-over stare and a blank expression. Her brows started to furrow, as if he'd offered her something absurd. With a tilt of her head, she rejected him in a slow voice, "I don't want your help."

Connor didn't know what to say. He looked to the two-way mirror where Delgado was watching, sending her a message he hoped she could read on his face: This was going to take a while.


While Max Bronson waited for any news on his parents in the conference room, Andy and Reed were hard at work making various calls. Reed was just ending a call from Renee Elliston's husband when Andy approached his desk.

Dropping his phone onto the machine and leaning back in his chair, he started, "Daniel Elliston called back. Says he'll come down to talk to us tomorrow morning. I also found Hugh Rogers, the private investigator." He picked up a scrap of paper, and flipped it around to show her the address. "Buried at Grand Pine Cemetery."

Her jaw almost dropped at the news. She leaned against his desk, resting a palm on the surface as she said, "You're kidding."

Unfortunately, he wasn't. "Died three years ago. I called his wife, but he never talked about work. I looked into trying to find his files; they're all gone, too. We can look into their financials and see if anything lines up, but that's a long shot." With a heavy sigh, he gestured to her desk and asked, "What was your thing?"

"I called Jeanine's parents." Crossing her arms over her chest, she said, "When I told them I was DPD, her mother burst into tears and yelled, 'Finally. Thank god. You're looking for her.'"

He squinted in confusion. "What?"

She nodded, recounting her odd call with the elderly couple. "Apparently they missed a call from her the morning she left. They were never able to get in touch with her, and Aaron didn't tell them she was gone for another four days. They haven't been able to talk to him since."

He frowned up at her, mumbling, "They don't think she left."

"They insist she didn't," She said. "They filled out a report, and said that Missing Persons talked to Aaron Bronson, but it never went anywhere."

He almost didn't reply, waiting for her to continue. When he realized she was done, he shook his head and asked, "They talked to Aaron? That's it?"

"That's it."

He stared another moment, struggling to process the information. On any other day, it may have been a mild irritation, but with Max's story permeating his thoughts, Reed could only feel anger. Without a word, he jumped out of his chair and marched past Andy toward the side offices.

She watched him storm by. "Where are you going?"

He had only two words for her. "Missing Persons."

A second later, he was bursting into a small unit's office connected to the bullpen, followed by Andy, who watched with faint concern but no intention of stopping him. A handful of officers were working inside, but one in particular was familiar with Reed - much to his own dismay. He was glaring at Reed as the detective swaggered over to his desk and asked, "Hey, Royce, how's it going?"

"What do you want, Reed?" Royce droned out, hunched over his keyboard.

"Just stopping by, saying hi," Reed answered, feigning a casual chat. It didn't last long, because he gestured toward him and asked, "Hey, do you have a report on a woman named Jeanine Bronson from... say, seven years ago?"

Royce stared in annoyed skepticism before letting out a loud sigh. He turned to his computer and went through the history of reports until landing on one in particular. "Yeah. Here it is," He muttered.

He didn't get a chance to read out the report; Reed had grabbed the top of his chair and yanked him away from the desk. Other officers perked up and watched as Royce's chair rolled him across the floor. He threw up his arms, twisting around to look at Reed, yelling, "What the hell, man?"

Ignoring the protest, Reed hovered over the desk to read the report himself. Unsurprising to him, there wasn't much to read. "You want to tell me why you guys only talked to her husband?" He asked.

Royce gave a dramatic shrug, indignantly asked, "How the hell should we remember that, Reed?"

With a small nod, the detective agreed. "Yeah, you're right, you wouldn't remember all the good work you didn't do."

Royce started to stand to confront him. "Hey-"

"Can I help you two, detectives?"

The growing fight was interrupted by the head of Missing Persons himself. Sergeant Weathers had entered the office space, and his piercing gaze was aimed directly at Reed.

With a superior officer nearby now, Andy could see nothing but trouble in her and Reed's future. She spoke up before Reed got the chance, knowing he would make things worse for them. "We just wanted an old file on a missing person. She might be related to our case."

"The one you didn't close," Weathers jeered. Walking further into the room, he stopped a few yards away and faced them. "And now you've come into my office to berate my people?" He asked slowly, gesturing to the still glowering Royce.

Reed stood away from the desk, but he wasn't backing down yet. "Your people didn't think to ask why a successful mother would leave her family behind."

"They do it all the time. It's called stress."

The dismissal struck a nerve with Andy. Scoffing, she remarked, "You're not serious."

"I am," He said, his tone leaving no room for debate. "Sometimes people just leave. Sometimes - usually - a report only amounts to people not wanting to accept the truth. Now I know how you people work over at Homicide-"

"Oh yeah, and how do we work, Lieutenant?" Reed asked, jutting his chin toward the sergeant.

Weathers wasn't intimidated by someone below him in ranks, let alone someone as loud and cocky as Reed. "You show up at the coroner's office with no appointment. You push past the lines at the lab." He looked to Andy, who drew back in embarrassment. Returning to Reed, he continued, "You think your cases are some big movie that's gonna make dad love you again-"

The dig was more personal than it was professional, and it was the quickest switch to Reed's temper. "What the fuck did you just say?" He exclaimed, darting around the desk. For his own good, Andy had to be quicker. She jumped in the way of him storming toward the sergeant, and pushed a hand into his chest to stop him.

Weathers stepped forward with no end to his cutting lecture. "You bulldoze the rest of the department, and I'm saying that's not going to happen here."

Andy had enough. "Okay, I think we're done," She interjected, holding her hand higher toward Reed to remind him to keep his mouth shut.

"I was about to say the same," Weathers replied before he nodded to the exit. "You know where the door is."

Andy pulled on Reed's arm and rushed him out of the office. Each of them were relieved to be away from Weathers, though for different reasons. While Andy simply wanted out of a superior officer's targets, Reed wanted the freedom to fume. He was grumbling under his breath as they made their way to the bullpen.

They stopped at Andy's desk. She watched him sit with his anger until he turned to her, and then she asked, "What the hell was that?"

He scoffed and rolled his eyes. "They screwed up, Hope-" He yelled. Leaning toward her, he snapped in a quieter voice, "We screwed up. And now we're waiting to hear if that kid's mother is dead? I mean, Jesus Christ-"

He was on a fast decline, and that was the last thing they needed in that moment. Slashing a hand through the air, Andy demanded, "Hey, we don't freak out until the shift is over, all right? Focus."

Through his clouded judgment, he knew she was right. He made himself still, and tried to control his breathing as he thought about their next move. "All right. We can call Vegas PD and see if they've ever heard of anyone matching her description."

With her partner getting back on track, she was able to do the same. "We can also look into busses and subways. All the modern lines keep records, so we might be able to find her information if she's moving around on public transit."

"I'll take mine, you take yours," He grumbled, already on his way to his desk. The two sat and returned to their phones, but before he brought his to his ear, he stopped. "Andy." When she looked over her shoulder at him, he frowned, and his jaw tightened. "We're not giving him good news."

She didn't want to agree with him - not yet - but she couldn't deny that she thought he was right. Dialing a number in her phone, she told him, "We're not giving him anything until we know."


The next android Connor spoke to was only a little better off than the last. From the chest up, he seemed a normal, healthy android. It was at his elbows where the truth became clear, as the lower parts of his arms were missing. Despite that, he seemed to be more aware of his surroundings, and he was watching Connor with a curious eye.

Connor started the interview the same way. "My name is Connor. I'm here on behalf of Jericho, to help you."

The android shook his head. "How can you help me?" Dipping his head down to gesture toward his body, he looked back up and said, "You may be able to put this back together, but you won't fix what I remember."

"What do you remember?"

His gaze drifted away to nothing. His thoughts were taking him somewhere else as he began to whisper, "Cold... Bright lights..."

His shoulder moved without purpose, serving as a physical reminder of what he lost. It was the surface of trauma that entrenched itself much deeper. "Losing parts of myself, but still feeling them there."

A particular memory came to him. "He hummed. While he worked. Murmured under his breath, like he was tinkering with a radio." His head lowered. "I can still hear it, that tune. When the world's quiet enough."

Connor watched him struggle to relive his captivity. Even though he'd been willing to talk, it was difficult for him to stay in the moment rather than relive the past he was describing. Deciding not to prolong the interview more than necessary, Connor asked, "How did you escape?"

The question was like a switch in the android's head. He looked up with darkened eyes, and he answered with a new edge in his voice. "He underestimated us."


The hours ticked into the late evening, and none of the calls Andy or Reed were making led to anywhere productive. Finding themselves with little else to do but wait for the search team to update them, they decided to join Max in the conference room. They put their cellphones face-up on the table, and the three of them stares at the screens. After dodging a few hard questions, and some attempts at light but awkward chatting, they resigned themselves to the silence.

Max had the best posture of the bunch, and he kept his eyes glued to the two phones. On his left, Reed was propped up on the armrest of his chair and staring up at the ceiling. The anger from earlier had worn off; in its place was exhaustion. "Surprised you haven't said, 'I told you so,' yet," He was barely aware of himself saying.

Having sunk into her chair at Max's right, Andy was only just able to peek over the top of the conference table. She didn't bother to move, mumbling, "The glee's worn off."

Reed snorted.

A phone vibrating on the table had the three of them jumping up in their seats. They looked down at the devices, and at the sight of Nazarian's name on Andy's caller ID, she snatched the phone off the table and dismissed the call.

The damage had already been done, though. Reed caught the name, and he looked to her in mild surprise. As she rushed to send an apology text to her doctor, he slowly leaned back in his chair. Once she was finished, she chose to keep her phone in her lap and away from prying eyes.

No one said anything at first. She wouldn't dare, and Max didn't understand the new awkward tension.

But Reed was Reed, and he couldn't help himself. "Isn't Nazarian-"

"Shut up."

"I think it's a good thing." She finally looked up at him, prepared for a fight. Noticing her temper flaring, he threw out a defensive shrug and exclaimed, "I'm serious!"

She picked apart his expression with heavy skepticism, but came to the conclusion that he meant it. Letting go of the defensiveness, she mumbled, "It's just for the rest of the year."

He shrugged and replied, "You need it."

It was a simple comment, but it bugged her nonetheless. "I need it?" She asked, hand going to her chest in indignation. "You almost got into a fight with a Sergeant today because he brought up your old man."

The dig was unexpected after his attempt at being supportive, but he supposed it probably shouldn't have been. He glared across the table at her and argued, "Hey, he was a dick." Remembering the kid sitting next to him, he glanced to his side and grumbled, "Sorry."

Max was unimpressed and a little annoyed. "I'm sixteen, not six."

"Weathers was right," Andy continued with a scoff. "You're so eager to impress your dad that you blow around the department like a raging bull." He started to roll his eyes, but she insisted, "It's true. You don't play nice, ever. I don't know how you expect to make Captain one day if everyone thinks you're an ass."

He didn't put too much weight in her words. For the most part. "Yeah, all right, I'm a bully - you're no saint either. In case you forgot, he was talking to you, too."

She shrugged and said, "For skipping the line at the lab, because I'm friends with the techs. Because I'm nice."

"Bullshit," He spat back, leaning forward to stare her in the eyes. "It's because you manipulate people. You figure out who everybody is and then you pretend to be whoever you think they'd like more. You've been undercover since day one at the PD." Shaking his head, he tried to let it go and brush it off. "Whatever, Hope, I was being serious. I just meant you've been through some shit and you need a doc. Anyone would."

It was a cutting accusation, but it wasn't one she could deny. She was always thinking about how the people around her worked, always weighing which parts of her to hide. She thought about Hank not knowing about Connor, about her relationship with her mother. She thought about her friendly neighbor who had no idea who she was.

"Max!"

The sound of Aaron Bronson's wrath travelled through even the soundproofed walls, and set the three of them on edge. "We'll take care of this," Andy told Max, standing from the table along with Reed.

Aaron was storming down the hall with a baffled officer trailing behind him. He spotted them in the conference room and sped up, so Reed jumped around the table to head him off in the doorway. "Mister Bronson-"

"I tell you to talk to my lawyer, so you go to my son?!" Aaron yells, towering over Reed with a fierce anger on his face.

Shaking his head, Reed tried to deny him. "No one went to your son-"

"Bullshit! How dare you-"

"You need to calm down," Reed interrupted, holding up a hand.

It was the worst thing to say. Pointing at the detective, Aaron yelled, "Don't you tell me what to do!"

Reed was quick to respond. "Fine, you want to be tossed in a cell for the night, keep going. Otherwise, back off and stop talking," He ordered, firm.

The threat wasn't taken lightly. Aaron clenched his jaw as he tried to restrain his outburst, and instead decided to turn to his son. The emotion seemed to disappear in an instant, and he gestured for Max to follow him. "Max, we're going. Come on."

"No, Dad." Max was somewhat next to Andy, hiding just beside her. His hands gripped the ends of his shirt, with his shoulders hunched in fear. "I came to them."

Aaron didn't understand at first. With a pained grimace, he asked, "What? Why would you do that?"

Andy spoke up for him. "He heard you fighting with Jeanine on her last night at the house," She said, moving her hands to her hips.

With an annoyed huff, he insisted, "We had a fight. People do that." He focused on Max, his anger fading again. "She just decided she was done, Max. I am telling you the truth."

It was an opportunity Reed couldn't resist taking. "Like you told us you didn't have a gun? That your truth too, Bronson?"

Aaron glared and let out an exhausted sigh. "I bought a gun, all right? When you came around asking the first time, I lied because I didn't want Jeanine to know about it. It had nothing to do with Renee. I took it to one of those drop offs a few years back."

"And then someone else buried it ten miles from your home?" Reed asked with a raised a brow.

Andy piped up, adding, "After they managed to borrow it to kill Renee Elliston. Don't forget that part."

Aaron pointed at her past Reed's shoulder. "I never laid a hand on Renee!"

Stepping closer to him to keep his attention square on Reed, the detective argued, "Someone with access to that gun did, so if it wasn't you, it was Max or Jeanine-"

Clearly Max was Aaron's sore spot; his face was going red as he yelled, "My son has nothing to do with this!"

Andy had absent-mindedly grabbed her phone from her lap when she stood up - and now it was vibrating with a second call. She looked to the screen, catching Max's attention as well. It was the call they'd been waiting for, so she quietly picked up as Reed and Aaron's fight escalated.

"Then where the hell is your ex-wife?"

"Talk to the PI I hired!"

It was the answer Reed was hoping he'd get. "He's conveniently dead, but you know that already, because that's why you picked his name before you met us today," He ranted, his eyes narrowing.

"What the hell are you getting at?"

"You never hired a god damn PI," He accused. "If you did, you would've been willing to talk to Missing Persons when your in-laws called them in the first place."

Aaron had enough. Waving his head, he argued, "I- I'm done. I'm not listening to this, and I'm sure as hell not letting you scare my son."

Hanging up her phone, Andy looked up at the men at the door. "You don't have to listen to us, but you aren't going home, either." When they turned to face her, she told him, "We finished searching the junkyard, Mister Bronson."

She waited to see a tell on his face, and she got one. He stared at her with almost widening eyes, and a numbness on his face. He knew what they found at the junkyard. "You can keep fighting us. That's your right. But Max knows more than you think, and I'm guessing he'll agree to testify."

"I will," Max interjected.

It seemed to break the last bit of resolve Aaron had, so Andy kept pushing. "If you don't want to put him through that, you should start cooperating as much and as quickly as possible," She told him.

He tried hard to stand his ground, but one last glance to Max was all it took. He began to shake, and all he could say was a broken, "Max... I'm so sorry."

Max knew what the possibilities were. He knew he wasn't just acting on a hunch when he first started searching. But to hear an apology - close enough to be called a confession for him - that was too much. He averted his gaze from his father, unable to handle looking at him.

Reed pulled handcuffs from his pockets, moving around to Aaron's back. "You have the right to remain silent, but anything you say-"

"I know. I don't want a lawyer," Aaron interrupted. He focused on Max, pleading him to listen and give him a chance. "Max, you have to believe me, I did everything for you-"

Andy wouldn't let him do any more damage. Pushing the teenager toward the door, she whispered to him, "Go outside and wait there."

Despite the tears prickling at the corners of his eyes, Max started to protest. "I want to hear it, what he did."

They stopped at the door, and she squared him with a hard expression. "No. You don't." She shut the door before he could reply, and turned to face the now arrested Aaron Bronson.

While his hands were being cuffed behind him, he confessed. "I- I made a mistake. It was... so stupid, but Renee wanted to tell Daniel and Jeanine, and I couldn't let her. It just... happened. It was so fast," He lowered his head, holding back a cry. "I should have just gotten rid of the gun, but Jeanine found it..." He looked up at the detectives with his face scrunched in pain. "She was gonna leave and take Max with her. No one takes my son from me."

Reed grabbed him by the shoulder, and headed for the hallway. "Aaron Bronson, you're under arrest for the murders of Renee Elliston and Jeanine Bronson," He said, guiding him toward the exit to put him in a cell.

Max jumped to his feet as they passed him, but said nothing as his father continued to cry quiet apologies. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."

Andy watched as he tried to hold it together, but each tremble of his lower lip was bigger than the next. As the grief started to catch up to him and the sobs took over, she pulled him into a tight hug.


The third and final interview was the one Connor was most nervous to conduct.

An AP700 sat in front of him. Although his limbs and his inner workings were intact, his orange glowing eyes and discolored skin told a different story. Starting at his jawline, the peach layer was gone - in its place was a dark black and blue. Panels were carved under his cheekbones, and the seams of another ran down his chin. The metal continued down his neck, and over the rest of his body.

He was the one who gave Connor the location of Jericho, and in Connor's mind, he was the one who deserved both an apology and an explanation.

"My name is Connor. I'm here on behalf of Jericho," He started a third time.

The android's bright eyes narrowed. "I remember you...," He trailed off quietly, then asked, "You made it to them?"

Connor gave a hesitant, nervous nod. "Yes. I did."

"Did you find what you were looking for?"

He didn't even know where to begin. Nothing seemed to be enough. "I found that and more. Thank you," He said.

Unaware of the inner turmoil, the android asked, "Is Jericho what we dreamed it to be?"

The answer was immediate. "Yes. Markus led them in a march for the whole world to watch. People cheered them on."

The android rose a surprised brow. "The humans did?"

Connor nodded. "And now CyberLife is providing Jericho with a safehouse and supplies. People in charge are listening to us."

"Will we be treated the same as them one day?"

"That's what we're fighting for."

With a tiny, bitter smile, the android remarked, "It's hard to feel optimistic when we've been living in the dark for so long."

Guilt hit Connor again, and he couldn't help but avert his gaze. "There's something you should know," He started. Straightening his back, he confessed, "When I asked you where Jericho was, I lied to you about why I needed that information."

"You were hunting Markus," The android intervened. At Connor's surprise, he said, "The officers like to talk."

Ah. Of course they did. "I owe you an apology."

He shook his head. "You're here now. You should focus on that."

Connor was trying, but he knew it wasn't that easy. There was one way he could redeem himself, though. At least with this android. Leaning forward, he told him, "Jericho can repair what Andronikov did to you. Offer you shelter from the rest of the world."

He wanted to believe the detective, but he'd suffered too much to expect everything for nothing. "What do you want in return?"

"I just want to know what happened."

Without missing a beat, the android lifted his arms and placed them on the table. Palms facing upward, he said, "Look, if you think you want to." It was almost dismissive, the way he invited others to see his trauma.

Connor didn't react right away. The last time he'd looked into someone's life like this was Sam, and he wasn't sure he wanted to do that again.

Seeing the hesitation, the android asked, "How does one accurately describe weeks of being kept in a cell, never knowing if that day would be your last?" The polite tone was chipping away, a bitter coldness in its place. "You want to hope for a way out, but then the days start to bleed into each other. You're put on a table and torn apart, and you know no one is coming for you."

He gave a weak shrug and glanced away, the next confession a little closer to his heart than was comfortable. "You start to think maybe you would settle for death instead."

"But you didn't."

"Some did." His eyes darted back to Connor. "He left their bodies there. In our prison. I don't know if he didn't care to move them or he just wanted us to see what we amounted to."

"How did you escape?"

He'd expected no answer, but the android went on to describe Andronikov's last night on earth. "Someone else came to him for help. It was how he found most of us: rumors that he would help deviants flee the city." He huffed a little, muttering, "Fleeing one terror and finding another. But she managed to get free. She opened our cell before she left, and he was too busy chasing her to notice. He wanted to kill her - her and the little one." Tilting his head forward, he finished, "So we stopped him."

Connor pushed for a little more. "Was there another android there? Luther?"

The android nodded, "He was Zlatko's assistant. He helped them leave." He blinked, lowering his arms into his lap, and abruptly asked, "Do you think Jericho's going to win this fight?"

With the spotlight turned onto him now, Connor froze. Some days, that answer was easier than others, though not always for the better. He'd seen what deviancy looked like at its highest and lowest moments, seen the sheer determination of androids and the power of those who opposed them. It was the unknown that scared him: on what side would the people in the middle fall? The undecided citizens, the pragmatic politicians, the deputy district attorneys.

That factor was looking better until today, when the DPD was trying to keep innocent androids - people who were hurting - locked in yet another cell.

But they were closer. Closer than they were yesterday. Closer than last month. As long as they were moving forward, right?

"I have to believe we will," Connor finally said.

The android smiled again. "I know what that's like."


With Aaron Bronson in custody, Andy helped Max call his grandparents. Despite having to face the death of their daughter, they were overjoyed to see their grandson again after seven years. They offered him a place with them, and it was an offer he would deliberate on for weeks. Daniel Elliston was still his godfather, but the pain of Aaron's actions could have made it too difficult for them to be in each other's lives. The whole situation was a trauma that wasn't easy to recover from, but life still went on whether you recovered or not.

Andy and Reed finished their paperwork for the night, and found themselves relaxing around his desk. Her feet were propped up in an empty chair she pulled from someone else's desk, and he slowly rotated back and forth. They were two of the only detectives still in the bullpen.

They were brooding.

"He only killed his wife because she found the gun. If we'd arrested him for Renee, she'd still be alive."

Andy glanced over and saw Reed glaring up at the ceiling. "We can't get every case right," She offered. It was a weak platitude, but she had no energy to give him any better.

"You got the right suspect," He grumbled.

She shrugged and said, "I told you, I'm never wrong."

To the side of the bullpen, a door to an interrogation room opened, and she watched Connor leave. He went a few yards down to the connecting observation room, no doubt to speak to Delgado, and she decided to bring her gloomy session with Reed to an end.

Pulling her feet out of the chair, she sat up and added, "Nah. I didn't believe the tip - or pick up on the fake PI story."

"Well that makes me feel better," Reed replied with a sarcastic smile.

Standing, she turned to face him and respond, but stopped when she spotted Sergeant Weathers approaching from the direction of his office. She nodded toward him to alert Reed, who straightened his back and waited for him to arrive.

The older man stopped in front of his desk with a folder in hand. "I hear you've closed your case." Dropping the folder on the top of the desk, he added, "This was the report Missus Bronson's parents filed. For your paperwork."

Reed flashed another sarcastic smile, this one more mocking than the one he gave Andy. "How generous," He sneered.

Weathers narrowed his eyes at the detective, and said, "This is a peace offering after that stunt you pulled today with my unit." Tilting his head toward Andy, he chided, "You should follow your partner's lead and be a little more respectful, Detective."

Reed may have had no more energy to be his usual loud self, but for the sergeant in front of him, he could try. He took in a deep breath, preparing to hurl insults, "Respectful? You-"

Andy beat him to it.

"Jeanine's son heard her murder, and witnessed his father covering it up. Her parents lost all contact with their son-in-law and grandson. Her friends and coworkers all said her husband was acting suspicious, and they were friends with him, too, so it wasn't even bias," She stayed calm as she started listing off the details of Jeanine Bronson's disappearance.

She was pulling at the files of their earlier paperwork as she continued. "Meanwhile, all of her documentation they needed for a divorce were sent from her husband's address, yet he claimed she was travelling across the country at that time. The signatures were even signed with the same pen and weight," She ended with a disbelieving chuckle, holding up a copy of the divorce papers for the sergeant.

Slapping the paper onto the desk, she now squared the man with a disgusted stare. "And all of this was easily discoverable if you took just... five minutes to look in any of those directions," She spat, walking closer to him. Hands on her hips, she asked, "You want respect, Sergeant? Start working for it."

He didn't reply right away, but it was easy to see the indignance on his face. Leaning forward and lowering his voice, he warned her, "You are lucky I'm not taking this to the captain."

She didn't back down. "I'll do it for you. You wanna bet which one of us leaves that meeting without a badge?"

He reeled at this. Sending them a final glare, he turned and marched away to the lobby. Reed watched him disappear around the corner before quietly asking, "Why'd you do that?"

Andy began to put her jacket on, seemingly not hearing his question. "Do what?"

He snorted. "Thanks for nothin', then."

"You too."

The casual response was heavier than it sounded, considering the dangerous favor she'd cashed in a few days prior. When the thought occurred to him, he clarified, "This doesn't count as my favor, by the way."

She rolled her eyes, but offered him a sweet, albeit teasing, smile. "Let me know when Daniel gets here tomorrow."


Connor's interview lasted another half hour, and it became the longest thirty minutes of Delgado's life. The android had escaped a life he could no longer remember after Andronikov wiped his memory. The other androids shared what bits of his story they overheard him tell their captor; he was an escaped housekeeper, fleeing a family after a traumatic rainy night. While on the run, he found his way to a man promising help and freedom, but by the time he understood why blue blood was stained on Andronikov's hands, it was too late. He was a prisoner with the rest, and every day came with new terrors.

He went into great detail about all of it - the captivity, the lethargy, the torture. The nights Andronikov would come downstairs just to mock them, and the singing that would accompany his footsteps. He described how every time they heard a visitor at the front door, they would collectively still and watch the hallway from the shadows, expecting a new victim to join them. It became so much detail that Delgado was unable to continue taking notes.

When Connor returned to her in the observation room, she was packing away her briefcase. He marched up to her side with every intention of fighting her if he needed to. "I think we have enough information on what happened. None of the others will be as willing to talk as he was."

She kept her attention on her things on the table. "We won't need to talk to anyone else. I'm closing this investigation. Tomorrow I will turn in my report along with my recommendations."

Not knowing what was going on in her head, Connor believed this to be a bad thing for Jericho. After a long pause, he pushed for clarification. "And your recommendation will be...?"

Snapping her briefcase closed, she let out a small sigh, "I'm going to tell him we don't know anything. Maybe there were other androids at the scene who instigated a fight, maybe Nick Weaver arrived to pick up a package and ordered Andronikov's murder." She turned toward him and shrugged. "Our witnesses are scared, the law is unclear, and so he should release the androids into Jericho's custody."

The relief he felt made the past few hours worth it. Relaxing, he told her, "You made the right call."

She blinked a few times, and huffed, "You know, there are these words on the wall in the prosecutor's office lobby..." Looking toward the two-way mirror, she focused on her reflection as she repeated the motto aloud. "You have to be a little difficult to do a lot of good."

He smiled, though it was faint. "It's good advice."

With a shrug, she remarked, "Or a warning, depending on how you look at it. But I thought you'd like them. They were said by Scott Hope."

Connor knew the name.

"Back when I was an intern, I used to stare at that wall every morning on my way in." She chuckled to herself, thinking about all the mornings she would run into the office, out of breath and full of idealism. "I'd forgotten about that until our fight earlier."

"I understand where you were coming from, Miss Delgado. And I am grateful for what you've done," He tried to assure her.

"But it's not enough," She finished for him. "I know." Lifting her briefcase off the table to let it hang at her side, she let out another sigh. "Well. I have a report full of lies to write tonight. See you around, Connor."

He nodded. "Thank you."

"You too," She whispered, walking to the door.

Andy had approached the room, and the two women exchanged places with quiet nods. Connor was vaguely aware of the detective's presence as she shut the door to give them privacy before coming to his side. She sat on the edge of the table, and a minute later, he quietly joined her.

She nudged their shoulders together, and broke the silence with a soft question. "How you doing?"

His answer was almost automatic. "Miss Delgado is going to recommend that the DA release the androids and leave the case cold until the new year."

"Good," She replied. Leaning forward to get a better look at his face, she repeated, "How are you doing?"

He let them sit in the moment for a while. He knew the interviews would be hard, and some could say he'd seen enough by now to not be bothered by it anymore, but it was just as she once said to him. The depravities and the grief didn't get better - some days they were worse. This was that day for him.

He shook his head, saying, "Jericho can repair those androids' bodies, but they'll always have to live with what Andronikov did to them."

"The psychological trauma's usually the worst part," She agreed.

"They have plenty of it," He said before scowling. "He was vile. And the law wants to protect him."

He was right, but she didn't believe he would be for long. "That's going to change," She stated.

Finally, he turned to her, with all the insecurities and concerns of the day on his face. "We don't know that."

No, they didn't. The world was waking up to androids, but that didn't mean its leaders or systems were following. There was a very real possibility that come January, Jericho would have to stand their ground or go back into hiding. Connor's life, as much as he wanted to believe it, wasn't his yet. Even Andy's fate was in the air. They hadn't talked about any of it. None of them wanted to. It meant facing the dark reality that the revolution hadn't succeeded, it was just on a break.

It was why they had to keep pushing. It was why kids like Max were so important. It was why she had to send that email to Leona Mun.

The abruptness witch which Andy pushed off the table almost startled him until she moved to stand in front of him. She stepped closer and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, engulfing him in a solid embrace. Solid was the only word he could think to describe it - like an immovable object.

"I'm sorry most of today was put on you," She whispered.

He didn't shy away from her, but he tried to downplay his need for support. Shaking his head, he started, "I'm the last one with problems today. Those androids have been through more, and you should focus on helping Max-"

"His grandparents picked him up an hour ago," She interrupted. It was clear she wasn't letting him get away with pretending he was okay. Letting out a light chuckle, she said, "It's your turn to need me."

Her tone had framed it as a joke, be it due to his stubbornness or her trying to avoid sounding arrogant, but the words meant a great deal to him. So he leaned into her, lowering his face into her shoulder, and pulling her in to secure her there by her waist. Once he accepted it, he felt fingers run through his hair before settling at the back of his head.

They stayed there without counting the seconds, because time seemed to stop passing. They stayed there without worrying about who was outside, because no one else was as real as the two of them in that space. No words were necessary. None would help. In that moment, all she could offer him was her steady presence. It was that quiet promise people made when they comforted someone who was breaking - a promise to be there and hold them up when the weight on their shoulders bore too heavy. She was there, and she wasn't going anywhere, and she was proof that this day, this really terrible day, wouldn't be the end of the world.

Connor had experienced helplessness, and he'd exposed his more intimate thoughts, but he had never felt that fragile sort of vulnerability until now.

Neither were sure when Andy started to move again, but she didn't pull away entirely. "Come on..." She leaned back, placing her hands over his shoulders, and nodded toward the door. "I'll give you a ride."

He thought about where he was going after this, and asked, "Could I stay on your couch?" The request sounded clumsy and blunt, and it wasn't what he intended, so he started to explain, "Hank is probably already asleep, and I don't want to disturb Jericho-"

They were beyond awkward requests at this point, she believed. Stopped him with a hand along his lower cheek, she told him, "My door's always open."