Sumo was wagging his tail when they entered the house, Hanks hands didn't shake anymore when he gave Sumo his food. Hank was completely beat, he just grabbed a beer and let himself fall down on the couch.

His thoughts returned to the crying children. The dead bodies of the attackers. He took another gulp.

He turned on the TV and picked the NBA championship finals 1998. Chicago Bull vs. Utah Jazz. He always liked the start, the first few points. He stared at the screen, fully aware that Connor was still standing in the kitchen, looking at him.

After a while he sat down next to Hank.

"Look at that score," said Hank a little too loud. "Karl Malone was a force to be reckoned with back in the day. A dirty player of course, a real enforcer."

"His statistics were solid."

Hank emptied the beer can. "Yeah, he never won a championship though."

"Is that all that matters in sports?" asked Connor.

Hank chuckled. "Only the winners count. Nobody remembers the losers."

"You remember him."

Hank gave him a surprised look. "I do, you got me there."

They watched the game, Hank glanced from time to time at Connor. The android was apparently focused on the game. He seemed so eager at everything he did.

Hank took emptied the beer can and put it on the coffee table. He had been different in the school. There had been no trace of the naïve college boy he sometimes appeared to be. And the way he had killed the attackers … cold deadly precision.

He wiped over his face, feeling tired. Connor was a machine, of fucking course he was ruthlessly efficient. But then why was he here? Sitting next to an old drunk watching an ancient game.

Hank pressed his lips together. Stupid question … he was here because he had asked him to bring him home. Because he hadn't given him the chance to leave.

Christ, Jean had been right. He was lonely. It felt good having somebody to talk to … someone who listened to him. Somebody who didn't judge him.

He looked at the empty beer cans on the table. Not that he could blame Gavin. He had let his partner down …

"Do you know why Gavin hates me?" he abruptly asked.

"He requested a new partner after a double homicide two years ago. I assume you had a falling out?"

Hank's joints cracked when he got up and stretched. "Something like that." He went to the fridge and grabbed a plate with left-overs. "There was a racist nut-job targeting people of colour. We got a tip where the scumbag was hiding, we had to move fast and so we went in – just the two of us in this huge apartment block."

Hank put the food in the micro-wave and licked his lips before continuing. "Finally found her trying to get out a window. Gavin grabs her and pulls her back into the room; she falls, manages to get up on her feet and draws a gun."

Hank wipes over his mouth. "Gavin freezes, just lays there staring at me. I stand at the entrance weapon already drawn, and I shoot. She's only three feet away and I miss, I fucking miss and she shots Gavin in the gut."

He stares at the food in the micro-wave turning; the humming had a strangely calming quality. "I miss a second time and the third finally hits its target. She's dead the moment he hits the floor. Gavin's screams still haunt my nightmares. Have you any idea how much pain a gut shot causes?"

"This was not in the report," said Connor. Hank could hear his footsteps closing in on him.

"I was drunk. Fowler convinced Gavin not to write it in his report. Detroit PD hasn't exactly a stellar reputation – imagine what the press would do if they learned that they put a drunk in charge of a hate crime."

The micro-wave pinged and Hank took the plate out. "Fowler thought that time would straighten me out, that giving me something to do would … would sober me up. After that they moved me in the android department. Without a partner of course, everybody at the precinct knew what really had happened."

"I'm sorry to hear that, Hank," said Connor.

Hank whipped his head around and blinked. Connor stood next to the kitchen table, he still looked a little strange without his jacket. He sounded sincere. Hank felt his throat tighten.

"Don't be," he said in a low voice. "It was my fault."

"I'm certain that you will recover your reputation and get a partner again."

Hank gulped. "That's not what I meant." He wanted to add 'I've already got a partner' but he couldn't say it. Instead he stared at the overcooked ravioli on his plate.

After a few moments he sat down. "I should eat while it's still hot."

Sumo took this a cue to show up in the kitchen, panting and whimpering.

"Yeah, yeah. I know. We will go for a walk as soon as I've finished," said Hank.

Connor put his hand slowly on Sumo's back and started to pet it with care. Sumo started wagging his tail and craned his neck to lick Connor's hand. Startled he pulled his hand back.

"It's alright, that means he likes you."

Connor looked from Hank to Sumo. He held his hand out and the dog slobbered over it. Connor stared at him wide-eyed, then he started to smile. He resembled a child at Christmas morning, full of wonder and joy. He ran his left hand through Sumo's thick fur.

"I think I like dogs. If you want I can again go for a walk with him."

Hank shoved the last bite of ravioli in his mouth and chewed. "Well, if you want to I don't mind."

Connor went to the dresser and took Sumo's leash. The dog barked and wagged his tail even harder. Hank leaned back and watched how Connor put the leash on.

-0-

After they had left Hank started to clean the kitchen and the living room, putting dished in the dishwasher and throwing the empty cans away. Then he noticed the food stains around Sumo's bowl. With a sigh he got a hair tie, pulled his hair together to a ponytail and went to the closet and pulled the vacuum cleaner and the mob out.

When he had finished mopping up he tried to remember when he had last done that. It seemed to have been ages. After he had even thrown away the old unread newspapers that had been piling on the counter he put his hands on his hips and took a look around. It was almost as if he could breathe better.

He went into the bathroom and started to clean out the cabinet, throwing away old half-empty after-shave bottles. Just when he thought about cleaning the shower he heard how Connor and Sumo returned.

He heard clothes rustling and moments later Connor appeared in the doorframe, he wasn't wearing his jacket, his tie was hanging loosely from his neck.

"We're back."

"So I noticed," said Hank and wiped his hands on his pants. "I thought I should clean up this dump a little."

Connor's LED turned yellow and then blue again. "Do you want me to help?"

"Nah, I got this. It's my mess … you just go watch some TV or whatever."

"Alright." Connor turned and left.

Hank eyed the shower again and grabbed a sponge. About an hour later he had finished cleaning the bathroom and his bedroom. He felt pleasantly tired when he returned to the living room. Sumo was snoring next to the couch table, while Connor was watching a documentary about animals.

"Didn't know you were interested in animals," said Hank and sat down with a grunt.

"I wasn't, but you said that Sumo liked me. I downloaded several works to fill the gaps in my data banks."

Hank yawned. "I'm beat. I'll go to bed." He patted Connors knee. "You can stay if you like of course."

"Thank you."

Hank shuffled back into the bathroom and started to brush his teeth. His sigh fell on his reflection in the mirror. Somehow he looked better than usual … was it the pulled back hair? Or perhaps he was feeling good because he had actually done some cleaning?

He spit out. Whatever.

-0-

When his smartphone beeped in the morning Hank sleepily deactivated it and sat up. He dimly remembered that he had dreamed about the shooting from the day before, but he couldn't recall what the dream was about … yes, Cole had been at the school and Connor had saved him.

He shuffled into the bathroom for a shower. Well, it made sense that he dreamed about stuff like this … the children in the Elementary school had been around six years old … just like Cole when he …

He stepped into the shower and noticed with satisfaction how clean it was. He remembered what Fowler had said. Androids couldn't be heroes. Fuck that. He would submit the report telling the truth.

He stepped out of the shower, tied his hair to a pony tail and dressed himself before heading in the kitchen. Connor and Sumo were nowhere to be seen – probably they had gone on a walk.

He had just grabbed a mug to make some coffee when the doorbell rang. He glanced at the clock, it was 08:04 a.m. Was it a delivery android?

When he opened the door he was surprised to see Jean standing in front of him. She gave him a surprised smile. "Morning Hank, that was quick."

He frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

She shrugged. "I assumed you were still in bed, that's all. It's Saturday after all."

He felt himself blush, he had forgotten that it was his free weekend. "Uh, well, I'm up. Come on in."

He went back in the kitchen and grabbed a second mug from the cupboard. "Coffee?"

Jean zipped her green parka open and sat down at the kitchen table. "That would be great." She pulled her gloves and her woollen cap off.

He turned to activate the coffee machine. Then he put the two mugs on the table and sat down.

Jean took a sip of coffee. "Ah, this hits the spot."

He noticed how she looked around, no doubt registering the lack of garbage lying around.

"You know, Hank, if I'm completely honest I'm here for two reasons."

"Yeah?"

"After our visit on the graveyard I kept thinking about the boxes in your garage. I really think we should go through them. I would like to have some of Cole's things with me. And perhaps it's cathartic for both of us."

Hank nodded. He felt uneasy at the prospect of going through Cole's stuff. But of course she was right.

"The second reason was that I wanted to see how you're doing."

"Satisfied?"

"Don't be like that. You know that I care about you."

"But not enough to stay."

"We were both grieving. You were spiralling out of control." She sighed. "But if you're going to bring that up again I'll leave. I'm not in the mood for old arguments."

Hank grimaced. "I'm just grumpy."

"You don't say. Anyway, you look better than the last time I was here. The house too. I'm glad that you're doing better."

He shrugged. "I figured I should clean the mess."

She took a look around. "It is awfully quiet. Where is Sumo?"

"My partner took a liking to him and went for a walk with him," admitted Hank after a moment of hesitation.

Jean smiled. "I see."

He scoffed, typical Jean – always jumping to conclusions. "I know what you think. But it's not like that. We had a case yesterday – long story short: he stayed overnight because it would've been a drag to get back."

"Oh, he's a guy."

Hank chewed on his bottom lip. "But I have to admit … Connor made me realise what kind of dump I lived in. He's such an eager over-archiver … had to do something to keep up."

"Sounds like he's one of these young officers ready to change the world. Must be tiring for an old misanthrope like you." Jean drank another gulp of coffee and got up to put the mug away.

"You have no idea." Hank glanced at the display of his smart phone. He suspected that Connor would be back any minute. He shifted on his chair. "Listen, can we do the boxes another day?"

"Sure, just text me if you have time." Jean went to the entrance and zipped her parka up. "Chris meant it when he invited you for Christmas."

"I know."

She put her cap on. "Just saying – well, I'm off. See you."

"Bye."

Jean opened the door and stepped into the snow. As soon as the door had closed behind her he got up from the table and watched her walk away from the kitchen window.

Fuck. He just should've told her that his partner was an android. She would find out eventually. But he knew Jean, knew the look of pity in her eyes – and he couldn't stand it. Despite everything she still was the person who knew him best, and he still liked … respected her in his own way.

Minutes later he saw Connor and Sumo marching through the snow. The old dog was clearly tired and trudged behind Connor who seemed as energetic as always. Were all androids so perky? And did all androids like to go for a walk with a dog? Probably, they were all running on programs. Strange that they were programming stuff like that into them.