Chapter Six: Family Ties

The evening had progressively grown more dreary as time dragged on. The city of Detroit was experiencing one of its many periods of continual downpour, and the rain came down in sheets that instantly drenched anything in its path. Despite the technical advances of the city, the lights lining both sides of the streets did very little to pierce through the darkness of the night. The part of the city surrounding the crime scene was almost entirely comprised of abandoned, decrepit buildings, which merely cast a forsaken atmosphere upon the already saddened streets.

Hank was lost in his own thoughts throughout the entire drive home. Connor found himself continually glancing between the rain-soaked streets of Detroit and the face of his partner. Upon hearing the name of the cartel behind the attacks, as well as Hank's outburst, he had immediately pulled the files regarding the case from the DPD. Very little information was available, though Connor was able to gather the names of the individuals who were arrested by Hank. The first was a young man by the name of Charles Thein, who was one of the low-level runners for the cartel - mostly in charge of deliveries, collecting debts and whatnot. There were two others - James Guy and Keith Summers - who held similar positions in the rankings of the cartel. The last was the leader of the cartel himself - Collin Rivers.

As he scanned through the information, Connor hardly noticed when Hank passed the driveway to his home and kept driving. A few moments later, Hank turned into the parking lot of Jimmy's Bar.

Connor looked at him in surprise, and felt a feeling of dread creep into his processors as he glanced down at his Thirium-soaked shirt.

Is Natalie working? What would she think? She'd probably think we were reckless again - Connor stopped the thoughts from progressing, finding himself shocked by these thoughts. He barely knew her, he should have very little regard for what she thinks in regards to his appearance.

Nonetheless, Connor felt increasingly nervous as he approached the door with Hank. Why would I be nervous? I barely know this girl.

Entering the bar, Connor saw Natalie standing behind the counter as she had been the first night. Though he was still nervous, he couldn't help but smile slightly at the sight of her.

Tonight, her black bandana was replaced with a red one, and the flannel she wore the other night was absent, replaced by a long-sleeved off-the-shoulder black shirt. The open neck of the shirt revealed her sharp collarbones, and Connor found himself slightly surprised to see the edges of a tattoo peeking from behind the material just below her left collarbone.

Her eyes shone with the same kind light that they had the first night, and her lips were adorned with lipstick that was the same color as her bandana. Her hands worked lightly with the drinks she served the men that lined the counter, grasping the bottles and cups with a delicate proficiency.

She turned to face the two of them when they walked in, and she smiled that wonderful smile as she waved them over. Turning back and calling to a man in the back of the bar, she finished the drinks and removed her apron. The men at the counter groaned audibly when she left.

Walking toward them, Connor observed the subtle sway of her hips and the confident way she held her head. Her jeans were distressed, allowing small sections of the pale skin of her slender legs to show. She was still wearing the same pair of distressed Converse.

"I wish you boys would have told be you were comin' - I might have looked a little nicer!" She laughed.

Is that possible? Connor thought to himself.

Hank, however, didn't respond to her jest - his face was grim, and he held his head slightly lower than he usually did. Natalie noticed this, glancing over to Connor for some indication of what had happened. Then she glanced down at his Thirium-stained shirt, and her eyes widened.

"What happened? Are you okay?" she asked, taking another step toward him. She raised her hand slightly, as if to touch him, but hesitated. She looked into his eyes, her eyes the color of summer skies filled with concern. He smiled slightly in spite of himself, and shook his head.

"Minor injury sustained in the field today, nothing of concern," he assured. Hank scoffed.

"The asshole shot you, Connor, you can't even say that?"

Natalie took a step backward. "A 'minor injury'?"

"My healing programs have already begun to heal the damage, Lieutenant. Thus, the damage is minor," he said to Hank, his tone filled with annoyance.

Hank gave him a glare that read "Don't try me, boy".

Natalie looked back to Hank's grim expression. "You two look like you could use a drink - or maybe several."

Hank shook his head slightly. "Not tonight, Nat. I'm afraid I've got some bad news."

Natalie's brow furrowed. "Is everything okay?"

Hank looked back at Connor, grimacing. He hadn't wanted Connor to find out like this, but it looked like there was no other choice.

"Is there anywhere a little more private we could talk?" He asked in a low voice. Natalie nodded, gesturing for the two men to follow her to one of the tables in the very back of the bar. Connor couldn't help but watch as she walked away. An old saying passed through his mind - I hate to see you go, but I love to watch you leave - and he shook his head, following her.

The booth was in the back corner of the bar, where very few people ever sat. Once they had sat down, Hank leaned his elbows on the surface of the table. Connor glanced between Hank and the girl sitting directly across from him, reading an expression of sadness and regret in the elder lieutenant's eyes.

"Natalie...we, um, we had another murder today. We've been having several attempted murders to androids over the last few weeks - hell, Connor barely escaped himself. Today, it was a human."

Natalie cocked her head slightly to the side, looking at Hank with an inquisitive expression. "Who was it?"

"Afraid I can't tell you that, Nat - you know, police business and all. Nobody you know, though. When we went inside, we found a room filled with a bunch of crates and cattle prods."

Natalie looked back at Connor, vividly remembering the charred center of his shirt the last time he had been there.

"The, uh, the crates…" Hank sighed. "They were from the Red River cartel."

Natalie's eyes widened, her mouth slightly agape. She looked down at the surface of the table, searching the various scratches and dents in the surface of the wood for something.

"How is that possible? He's in jail," she said quietly. Her voice was not filled with fear, or sadness, or anything really - just shock.

"One of the lower level members must have picked up the torch after we arrested Collin Rivers." Hank looked over at Connor, whose face was a mask of questions.

Natalie laughed in disbelief, shaking her head slightly. "Good ol' Dad, haunting me even from beyond the jail cell." She raised her eyes, looking first at Hank and then at Connor. Her eyes seemed to be brimming with something akin to anger, though it was mild. She smiled a crooked smile, and shrugged.

"I just thought you'd want to know, Nat. You remember what happened when I arrested him...I just want you to keep an eye out, make sure you're safe," Hank reached over the table, placing one of his weathered hands on top of her slender ones. She looked at him, nodding.

"I always am, Hank. Have been for the last twelve years."

Hank nodded, smiling slightly for the first time that evening. He drew his hand back across the table, stretching slightly and adding a yawn for effect.

"We oughta get out of here, Connor, and let her get back to work," Hank said as he slid out of the booth. Connor followed suit, albeit a bit awkwardly.

Natalie stood by the table, looking upward at the two officers in front of her. She crossed her arms across her chest, shifting all of her weight to one side as she smiled. "The next time you boys come in here, it'd better be strictly un-business-related!"

Hank laughed, promising her that it would be.

The ride back to Hank's place was silent, and Connor found himself glad when they reached the Anderson residence. Opening the door with his own key, Connor was immediately attacked by Sumo in all of his furry ferocity. He jumped up onto Connor, demanding his affection. Connor smiled slightly, burying his hands in Sumo's thick fur.

"You probably need to go outside, don't you?" He asked the large dog, who simply pushed his nose into Connor's leg as a response.

After letting Sumo back inside, Connor found Hank seated at the kitchen table. A mug of coffee sat in front of him, but Hank looked as if he had forgotten it was there. He stared off into the hallway, though Connor knew he wasn't looking at anything in particular. He sat down in the chair next to Hank, leaning his head to the side slightly.

"Is everything alright, Hank?" he asked in a gentle tone. Hank turned to face him, and Connor thought his eyes looked even more aged than they had before. Hank sighed, and suddenly his expression was serious.

"Connor, there's something you need to understand. We've dealt with bad, abusive parents before. Sometimes, their kids turn out exactly like their parents - aggressive, abusive, out of control. Other times, they turn out alright. They get by, picking up the pieces of their childhood to try to make the best of their life." His eyes softened a little bit. "And sometimes, though it doesn't happen very often, they make up for the bad their parent brought into the world. They become this beacon of light for everyone around them, even though they had a shitty childhood."

Hank nodded in Connor's direction.

"I know Natalie because of her father. I'm not gonna tell you everything - that's for her to tell on her own time - but I don't want anything about her father to affect what you think of her. Got it?"

Connor nodded earnestly.

Hank closed his eyes for a moment, then began.

"About 25 years ago, I worked on the DPD with a guy named Collin Rivers - Natalie's father. Well, he wasn't a father just yet - you know what I mean. Anyways, I worked with Collin for several years. We were partners for a short time while his partner was on maternity leave, and we nailed some pretty nasty guys. We did good work. He was a good cop, an even better guy to know. He and his wife, Myra, were really good people."

He paused for a moment, then continued.

"About four years later, they had a set of twins - Natalie and her brother, Joshua. They were a happy family - the picture of the American dream - for about three years. Joshua got sick, some kind of cancer I think. Anyway, he didn't make it. After that, things just weren't the same. Myra got depressed, Collin became a shell of the cop he used to be. That little girl, though, she was just a bright ray of sunshine throughout the whole thing."

Another sigh.

"Myra never did get out of that funk. About three years after Joshua died, she got sick too. They said it was something to do with her heart, but I think it was probably more than that. She died a few weeks later. That was the only time I ever saw Natalie cry. She was such a strong little girl, even when her dad was coming apart at the seams. He started getting aggressive, acting out, not showing up to work. One day, little nine-year old Natalie comes running into the DPD with a big red handprint on her cheek. She told me that her dad was meeting with some people who were carrying bags filled with money. I took a squad car out to their house with Reed, he was just in training at the time, and found Collin Rivers in the middle of a deal with the runners of a red ice ring. We'd been gathering intel on the cartel for months - it was the Red River Cartel. We managed to grab Rivers and three of the others, but the last guy got away. We never did find that guy. Come to find out, Rivers had been leading the ring for a few years, since Myra had died."

"Natalie had every right to be mad at the world. She coulda shut down, blocked out the world, turned to crime...but she didn't. Instead, she became this beacon of smiles and positivity. I don't know how she did it. She went through a lot of shit, even after her dad was arrested. But that's not for me to tell. She has to tell you that when she trusts you."

Connor leaned back in his seat and relaxed his clenched hands.

He hadn't realized that he had clenched them in the first place.

Hank took the last swig of his coffee and rubbed his hand over his eyes as Connor found himself experiencing something akin to surprise. She had seemed so pure, so innocent.

Like someone whose past wasn't a tribute to the horrors of humanity.

He supposed that was something the two of them had in common.