Chapter 6: A Desperate Need of Help

The hours had grown long. Hank would have believed that, however, time had stopped when he landed in the bedroom. With Connor's sleepy face, apprehension welled up inside of him. He watched for a moment as the LED flashes slowly on his temple, its yellow color. It hadn't left him since... since yesterday afternoon. Since he had collapsed on the cold cobblestones.

Just that moment in memory made him close his eyes, letting go of the awful tension that had been building up inside him. He shouldn't be weak. Everything rested on his shoulders now.

Now that he realized it, the morning sun was just beginning to peek above the horizon, through the exposed panes of the room. The curtains were drawn to the sides, and he got up to close them. He cast one last glance over his shoulder to observe his partner's tense face. The pain radiated the robotic muscles, yet so human. No, he shouldn't be weak. And in the faint solutions unfolding before him, Cyberlife and Markus seemed the only valid ones.

He didn't have much hope for Cyberlife, after all they had done: the dark conspiracies, the sordid experiments that he created in his mind (which weren't really surprises, they were capable of anything.), and the others crap that might have found their way into the fucking too big corporate register. A load of bullshit, if he could state his opinion. So, the most obvious choice in front of him was Markus. Even if, deep down, he realized that the situation was not the most optimistic. He could have been on the verge of praying to the good god, hoping for a miracle. But that would have been way too crazy for someone like him.

He had to try, search everything and everywhere, and perhaps the field of solutions would expand as research and assistance were provided.

"Fucking too optimist." Hank says in a growling as he leaves the room. "I come back, son. And you better be awake when I get back."

Hank walked out of the hospital. The air was crisp and cool, a stark contrast to the sterile, heated environment he had just left. He took a deep breath, the cold air filling his lungs, and for a moment he allowed himself to exist, to feel the world around him.

The coldness of winter was fast approaching, already present in the white tapestry of the deserted streets. It was strange to have no jerks on the horizon, no living souls, no matter what kind of beings. Just him and the fucking cold caressing the inside of his clothes. He pulled up the collar of his coat and tucked the sides between them. "Fucking cold."

Even alone, his mind was at war. The thought of seeking out Markus, the leader of the android revolution, was daunting. He and Connor had been gathering information on Markus and his followers for days, but they had always been one step behind. Now, with Connor incapacitated, it was up to Hank to follow the leads they had.

Where could he start? Was the research carried out at least still valid? A nose snort crashed into the parade of cold, leaving a frozen wavelet dancing in front of him. Barely a day had left him since the revolution. No one could change so quickly. Androids and humans, they weren't that different. Markus must still have been in the same place from before the revolution, while he prepared his peaceful demonstration, accompanied by his companions. Of course his research was still valid. It suited him. He could find it faster.

As Hank trudged through the freshly fallen snow, each step he took produced a soft crunch, a sound that was absorbed almost immediately by the surrounding silence. The snowflakes, gently falling from the sky, muffled the usual city noises, wrapping the world in a blanket of tranquility. His boots left a trail of footprints behind him, the only evidence of his passage through the pristine landscape. The cold air nipped at his face, but he barely noticed, his focus solely on the path ahead.

His hand lands against the door handle. The seats were as cold as the exterior, but very quickly a gentle heat emanated when the engine hummed. He glanced at the passenger seat, half-expecting to see Connor there, ready with a witty remark or a piece of insightful analysis. But the seat was empty, a stark reminder of the situation. He shook his head, pushing the thought away. He had a job to do. He put the car into gear and pulled out of the parking lot, heading towards the police station, where he would find everything he needed.

As he drove, Hank couldn't help but feel uneasy. He was entering uncharted territory, with more questions than answers - not even an answer, for fuck's sake. What was he hoping to tell Markus when he saw him? Not much, just a few snippets of what had happened, with too much "I don't fucking know what's going on". But he had no choice. He needed answers, and perhaps the only person who could provide them was Markus.

He was aware that the revolution had changed a lot of things in the space of…fuck, just a few hours. But it was too fresh. Another gaping wound in the minds of deviants.

He tightened his grip on the steering wheel, his knuckles whitening. The doubts still present, Hank was going to find himself in the lair of the androids, surrounded by them. Wasn't he just going to cause a riot or some kind of bullshit? He didn't give a fuck if it was even safe to go to their secret lair. He was capable of many things, for Connor's sake he could do so much more.

The Detroit Police Department was just beginning to stir as Hank's car pulled into the parking lot. The early morning light painted the building in soft hues, casting long shadows that seemed to dance as the sun rose higher in the sky. Hank stepped out of his car, his breath visible in the crisp morning air. He straightened his jacket and began his walk towards the entrance, his mind already focused on the task at hand. Nothing else matters.

As he entered the station, the familiar sounds of the police department filled his ears. The low hum of conversation, the occasional ring of a phone, the clatter of a coffee cup being placed on a desk. He nodded at a few of the early shift officers, exchanging brief greetings as he made his way to the evidence room.

The evidence room was located just after the archive room, where the evidence of the most recent investigations were arranged before being stored in old cardboard boxes.

For the police officers of the department, it was a nostalgic way of keeping the evidence, even despite the strong technological assistance they had recourse to. The exhibits were, however, stored in secure databases, where they could easily be found despite the maze of corridors and shelves.

Unsurprisingly, when Hank pushed through the second door, he discovered a sprawling, labyrinthine space, testament to the countless investigations that have taken place within the Detroit Police Department over the past decade. Neatly arranged parallel shelves were each filled with thick, heavy boxes and folders.

Hank began to move inside the belly of the creature. His eyes roamed, scanning the labels of the last section ; specially dedicated to the androids and the deviants. It was not as full as the other shelves but contained a lot of information and events. Many of these files had been conducted by Hank and Connor in person. The others were just a bunch of closed investigations without conclusion or too cold to be resumed (in other words abandoned).

He pulled out the boxes related to Markus and Jericho, his heart pounding in his chest.

He began to sift through the files, his eyes scanning each document, each piece of evidence. He was looking for anything that could give him a clue about Markus's location. As he worked, he could hear the station coming to life around him. The hum of conversation grew louder, the ringing of phones more frequent. But Hank was in his own world, his focus solely on the task at hand.

After what felt like hours, his hand landed on a map. His eyes widened as he saw the word 'Jericho' scribbled next to one of the locations. A lead. A smile hit his face. It was all he needed. He gathered the files, tucking the map safely on his jacket. Yeah, yeah, it was not legal, but at the moment, he didn't give a shit for stealing evidence. He was just using it a little before replacing it, in a few hours.

Immediately, he leaves the room, returning to the main section of the police department. As he walked through the station, he also felt a glimmer of hope. He was one step closer to finding Markus, most importantly, one step closer to helping Connor.

Just as Hank was about to exit the station, a familiar, grating voice echoed through the hallway. "Well, well, if it isn't the old man himself," Gavin Reed sneered, leaning against the wall with a smug grin on his face. Reed was known for his abrasive personality and his disdain for androids, and he never missed an opportunity to make his opinions known.

Hank paused, his hand on the door handle. Hank turned to face him, his expression hard. "What do you want, Reed?" he asked, his voice steady despite the anger simmering beneath the surface, saying his name the same way he would throw an insult. Reed shrugged, pushing off the wall to saunter closer. "Just wanted to see how you're holding up," he said, his tone dripping with insincere concern. "Just." He stopped himself, with a smirk widening. "Find it funny. The great android sent by CyberLife, most prize prick, taken out by a little data overload."

Gavin seemed to know a lot for an arrogant asshole who don't give a shit about androids. But Hank wasted no time in figuring out if he had been investigating Connor's situation or if it was due to some teenagers' rumors within the police department.

Hank clenched his jaw, his hands tightening into fists at his sides. He knew Reed was just trying to get a rise out of him, to provoke him. But hearing him mock Connor, mock the situation... it was more than Hank was willing to tolerate. He was lucky that he had better things to do than beat the shit out of him.

"Watch your mouth, Reed," Hank warned, his voice low and dangerous. "You might not care about Connor, but some of us do."

Reed just laughed, turning to walk away. "Whatever you say," he called over his shoulder, leaving Hank standing in the hallway, his anger slowly giving way to a renewed determination.