DBH: Diverging Paths

by WayWardWonderer

To right a wrong results in a differing timeline of events that risk the fate of all deviantkind after they've succeeded with the peaceful Revolution. The responsibility of the alternate timeline rests solely on Connor's shoulders as the lone deviant navigates a new world while trying to achieve similar results with befriending Hank without destroying everything.

3. Lost

Another sleepless night spent laying over the worn-out but still supportive couch in the quiet livingroom ended the moment the sun began to rise over the city. Blinking aggressively at the irritatingly bright rays of the rising sun as they shone directly into his eyes through the front window did little to persuade Connor to actually get up and move around considering that he was still exhausted. The lack of proper rest was beginning to wear down the stubborn deviant's already waning resolve as he resisted sleep strictly to avoid the relentless nightmares that haunted what should've been peaceful rest cycles. If he still had his L.E.D. Connor knew that it'd be glaring a nasty red color betraying his internal struggles to anyone who saw him.

Tracing his fingertips over his bare right temple Connor thought about the night when he decided it was time to remove his L.E.D. and take his final steps toward accepting his deviancy. It had been a difficult topic to discuss since it meant that Connor had to essentially mutilate his own aesthetic by removing the L.E.D., but with Hank's support and frequent reminders that Connor was allowed to make such decisions, the deviant detective found the courage to remove the L.E.D. from his temple and rid himself of his final android marking before turning it into the pendant that now hung around his neck.

'It's your choice, son.' Hank had stated proudly as he stood next to the deviant while Connor stood before the bathroom mirror. The senior detective had planted his hand on Connor's shoulder as Connor struggled with the big decision. 'It's your body, you can do whatever you want with it. Keep the L.E.D. or toss it, just be sure you're doing what you want to do and not what you think everyone else thinks you should do.'

Pulling the pendant from beneath his shirt Connor eyed the small, metallic disc and wondered if it'd ever light up again. The gray disc had looked so pathetic and useless in his palm as it dripped with traces of Connor's own Thirium when it had been removed that night. Despite it being a non-vital piece of Connor's anatomy and completely superfluous, Connor couldn't bring himself to just throw what was once a part of his body and his identity away.

'Like I said, you can keep it or toss it.' Hank's voice was as audibly clear in Connor's memory as it had been when Hank initially spoke to the deviant during that momentous occasion from the previous spring. 'It's no weirder than humans keeping their kids' baby teeth or a damn kidney stone!'

The comment had been enough to make Connor laugh, and it felt good. He rarely ever laughed and being able to find something funny while undergoing something so personal and important had helped turn the stressful moment into something positive.

Unsure of what to do with the blank L.E.D. disc, Connor simply kept it in his pocket alongside his quarter to occasionally fidget with it whenever he was stressed at work or simply wanted to recalibrate his hand-eye coordination while sitting at his desk. The disc had remained in Connor's pocket for months until one fateful day on August 15th of that same year Hank had given Connor an unexpected gift.

'I don't understand.' Connor's confusion at the sudden gift was expected as the deviant accepted the small rectangular box wrapped in green paper. He and Hank had gone out for a lunchbreak during their shift and were standing outside the Chicken Feed food stand together. 'Why are you giving me this?'

'Because it's a special day.' As always Hank sounded so sure whenever he spoke with Connor. 'What's today's date?'

'It's currently 11:54am of August 15th, 2039.'

'Uh-huh.' A mischievous grin had appeared on Hank's face as he watched Connor studying the wrapped box curiously. 'And why is that date special?'

'Because... it's the one year anniversary of my initial activation?'

'You got it. What you androids call "activation dates", us humans call "birthdays".' Hank explained smoothly as took a small sip of his soda and waited for Connor to finally open the wrapped box. 'Consider this your first official birthday, son.'

'And this is a birthday gift.' The deduction was as naive as it was humble as a rare smile appeared on Connor's face. 'Thank you, but I don't-'

'Nope! You're going to open that gift and you're going to acknowledge your birthday at least one time in your life so you can add it to your too short list of personal experiences. Now, open the damn thing!' Hank never lost his smirk as he encouraged Connor to open the gift while they were on their break. 'You'll like it, trust me.'

'I always trust you.'

'Then what're you waiting for? Unwrap your gift.'

It had taken Connor only a few seconds to open the gift by carefully peeling back the paper and then opening the lid of the thin box. Seeing the gift tucked away inside the box with his own eyes had resulted in Connor tilting his head in confusion as he lifted the silver chain up to visually examine closer.

Hank had seen the confusion in Connor's eyes and just chuckled a little. 'I figured you could use that to keep your little disc thingy safe.'

'O-Oh! I understand now...'

Connor had opened the clasp on the end of the chain before pulling the L.E.D. from his pocket. There was a small hole drilled into the interior rim of the disc at the top and bottom that had connected a single wire and thin line of Thirium from Connor's body to the light to give the disc a power source. Snaking the chain through the now empty top hole until it fell through the also empty bottom hole had given Connor the ability to turn the disc into a piece of jewelry and give it sentimental value.

'It's like that chain was made just for that disc.' Hank observed proudly as Connor then clasped the chain around his neck. The blank L.E.D. fell down at the center of the chain and came to rest directly over the center of Connor's chest right below where his collarbone would be if he was actually a human. 'It looks better that way.'

'You're right, it does.' The sight of the disc hanging around his neck made Connor feel like he was a complete being without needing the L.E.D. to remain a physical part of himself. 'The disc is also hollow. I can turn it into a pendant to hold something important inside of it in a similar manner in which humans keep small photographs on their person.'

'Photos, huh? Didn't know deviants were sentimental like that.'

Connor held the soon-to-be-pendant between his fingertip and thumb as he looked over at Hank and gave him another rare smile. 'Neither did I.'

That was a good day and one of Connor's favorite memories with Hank. Connor had every intention of finding a photograph or two to keep inside of his pendant, but he couldn't narrow down his decision to just two images. Instead, Connor had turned the disc into a functional U.S.B. thumb drive and filled it with hundreds of images taken directly from his positive memories as he experienced them. Moments of bonding with Hank had ended up as a majority of the images, but there were also plenty of images of Sumo, Markus and even a few revolving around his coworkers from the precinct whenever they had a good day together.

"I wish I could've had more time with Hank to save more important memories and images into the pendant."

Sumo had been laying on the floor beside the couch throughout the night and promptly lifted his head from his outstretched paws when he heard Connor's voice. The large dog stood up slowly, gave his full body a good stretch, then promptly dropped his chin down over Connor's stomach as he let out a small huff through his nose.

"Never thought he'd leave us like that, boy. Being shot protecting someone as vile and worthless as Elijah Kamski..."

The massive Saint Bernard licked at his nose nervously as he looked at Connor inquisitively. It was as if the loyal dog was trying his hardest to understand every word that Connor was saying in that moment.

"Why was Kamski even there? He wasn't invited and had no reason to be at the isle."

As he sat upright slowly on the couch Connor felt his head swim and was greeted with annoying warnings regarding his current power and Thirium levels.

...LOADING INFORMATION:

REGISTERED NAME: "Connor"

MODEL: RK-800

SERIAL NUMBER: 313 248 317 - 51

ACTIVATION DATE: August 15th, 2038

HEIGHT/WEIGHT: 6' 00.24"; 162.2 lbs

COMPLEXION: Caucasian

AESTHETIC GENDER: Male

HAIR/EYES: Brunette; Brown

ASSIGNMENT: Identify deviant who murdered Lieutenant Henry "Hank" Anderson

ASSOCIATION(S): Detroit Central Precinct - Detroit MI, United States of America; New Jericho(?)

BOOTING PROCESSORS...

LOADING OS...

SYSTEM INITIALIZATION...

-CHECKING BIOCOMPONENTS... OK]

-CHECKING BIOSENSORS... OK]

-CHECKING AI ENGINE... OK]

-MEMORY STATUS... OK]

READY...

[...Thirium Volume - 63%]

[...Thirium Pressure - 110/70]

[...Thirium Pump Rate - 63 B.P.M.]

[...Ventilation Rate - 12 V.P.M.]

[...Core Temperature - 99.3 Degrees Fahrenheit]

WARNING:

[...Power Level: CRITICALLY LOW - 22%

[...Thirium Level: CRITICALLY LOW - 63%

WARNING:

-STRESS LEVEL: ^52%

[...Emergency Rest Mode Activation: 01:28:53]

[...Postpone Emergency Rest Mode: [Y/N?]

[...Emergency Rest Mode - POSTPONED]

-SYSTEM READY... OK]

Confirming that he didn't want to enter rest mode with a simple command of "no" was ironically enough to make Connor feel absolutely exhausted. It was as if he was testing his personal limits as he pushed himself to keep awake and avoid the nightmares at any all cost. Being unable to focus on anything beyond his emotional pain and physical exhaustion was leaving the deviant barely functional.

After rubbing a stressful headache from his forehead Connor managed to get to his feet and rub the back of Sumo's head. Without needing to call the dog to his side Connor led Sumo into the kitchen to let him outside through the backdoor for a few minutes, then proceeded to clean and refill Sumo's food and water bowls. It was a simple routine that Connor had adopted the year prior on the very first morning after Hank had taken him in off the streets to live in the house as a roommate, friend and arguably as his adopted family.

As he stood in the opened back doorway and watched Sumo look for the perfect spot to relieve himself, Connor received a cybernetic call from Captain Fowler and hesitated before answering. He didn't want to think about work or how everyone else had been trying to find Hank's killer while he was grieving, but Connor knew he couldn't ignore the precinct forever.

He needed to answer the call.

Speaking out loud Connor tried to sound confident as he forced the fatigue away from his words. "Yes, Captain?"

'They got him.' The strong voice sounded unusually neutral considering Hank had been one of Captain Fowler's oldest friends. The man had been as shaken as Connor when Hank was confirmed dead, but unlike Connor he couldn't just walk away from the precinct and cool off while the case was still open. 'The deviant who shot Hank was arrested twenty minutes ago by Reed. He's being secured in a holding cell as we speak.'

What should've been good news felt like a painful punch to the gut. "...You're certain that you have the correct suspect?"

'We're damn sure it's him. We need you to come in to confirm their identity before we proceed with the interrogation.'

"Yeah, sure." The idea of looking the deviant who killed Hank in the eyes was enough to make Connor's artificial stomach roll. "When... do you need me to come in?"

'Now. The sooner you can confirm this suspect's identity, the sooner we can close this case.'

"Right, of course. I'll be there in ten minutes."

'Connor, I know this is hard for you. It's hard for me too.' Captain Fowler's sympathy was entirely sincere as he understood how painful it was to have to identify a coldblooded killer who took the life of someone he cared about. He had been working with the precinct for too long to avoid such a pain, and he never wanted anyone to ever have to experience what he had gone through. 'I wouldn't ask you to do this unless it was absolutely crucial.'

"I know, sir." Connor's palm rested over the pendant resting against his chest before he spoke again. "I can do it."

'All right. I'll see you in ten.'

The call ended and Sumo returned to the kitchen through the backdoor looking for his breakfast. The large dog picked up on Connor's bleak mood and nuzzled his nose into the deviant's hand in a supportive manner as Connor locked the backdoor.

"Captain Fowler believes they found the deviant who shot Hank."

Connor knelt on the floor and rubbed his hands along Sumo's chin and neck softly as he spoke to the Saint Bernard.

"If it's true then that means I have to look Hank's killer in the eyes and listen to why he did it. I'm not sure that I'm strong enough to bear it."

Sumo's only response came in the form of a warm lick to Connor's cheek as the large dog sat on the floor and seemingly listened to everything Connor was saying.

"I have to do it. I have to make sure Hank is given justice, and I have to make sure the right person is arrested and charged for the crime."

It seemed as if Connor trying to convince himself to do the right thing by using logic and reason to trump his currently overwhelming emotions.

"They're dangerous and could hurt someone else. It's important to do what's best for everyone, regardless of how I personally feel at the moment."

With his mind finally made up Connor begrudgingly got back to his feet and proceeded down the hallway to his bedroom to change out of his dirty clothes and into the very uniform he had been wearing the night Hank had been killed. It had proven impossible to remove the blood stains from the white dress shirt he had been wearing that horrible night, and Connor had no choice but to wear a different colored shirt for the time being until he could clean the second white dress shirt he was currently wearing. The sky-blue color of the clean dress shirt was one that Hank had picked for the deviant after insisting he tried adding color to his wardrobe during the summer, and Connor was eternally grateful for the man's help and insight into developing his own tastes.

As for Connor's jeans and gray uniform blazer, the stains had been washed out after a dozen wash cycles and were as presentable as ever. The only thing missing was the black tie still tucked away in the pocket of the black blazer, but soon that would be added to the uniform and ensure that Connor's pendant remained safely tucked away under the shirt and far from prying eyes of those who wouldn't understand the purpose behind the personal trinket.

The sight of his reflection in the mirror mounted in the back of his closet gave Connor momentary pause. It felt wrong returning to the precinct without Hank at his side. There wasn't any way around it though and no way to somehow bring Hank back from the dead to solve his own murder.

It was a case that Connor would have to handle alone.

"I can do this. I have to do this."

Sliding his closet door closed Connor returned to the livingroom and picked up the keys to the Oldsmobile as they laid idle on the bookshelf against the wall. The car had been left in the driveway after Connor had driven it to the house from the tower the night of the murder, and it hadn't been touched since. With the keys in his hand Connor exited the house through the front door and locked the house up behind himself before making his way to the precinct.

"I will do this."

Connor walked over to the car and unlocked the door with a careful motion as to not damage the surrounding paint of the old but well taken care of vehicle. It was one of the few assets that Hank had still cared about, and Connor was going to show the vehicle the same respect and care.

"I'll do this for Hank. I'll do this for my friend and... my father."

---

The Central Precinct was incredibly tense and uncharacteristically quiet. If the phones weren't occasionally ringing on desks while the televisions mounted on the wall relayed the day's news events in a low volume, the bullpen would've been entirely silent. Things hadn't been the same since Hank's murder and no one really knew what to do or say to help things feel slightly more normal since the shooting. Hank's desk had remained untouched and still bore his few personal possessions that he used to adorn his small workspace. No one dared to touch a single thing, even the empty coffee cups and doughnut box, and decided it'd be best to let either Connor or Captain Fowler clean up the space when enough time had passed.

Those who were in the bullpen were exchanging silent glances of confusion and uncertainty as they waited for Connor to arrive and for Captain Fowler to begin the interrogation. While Gavin had been the one to locate and arrest the deviant, the detective knew it wasn't his place to handle the interrogation. That honor belonged to Captain Fowler as both a man of great integrity and as Hank's friend.

"The fucker is babbling to itself right now." Gavin remarked with noted disgust in his tone. Spinning his now unoccupied handcuffs around his fingertip by one of the closed cuffs, Gavin joined Tina, Chris and Ben in the community breakroom. "If it's trying to go for an insanity plea it's on the right track."

No one replied to the observation as the four officers and detectives sat around the small table with untouched mugs of coffee between their hands. Handling deviant cases had always been Hank and Connor's responsibility, now such a burdensome task fell upon their shoulders.

"Where's the 'Tinman'?" Breaking the silence and changing the subject Gavin asked about Connor as he slipped his cuffs back onto his belt. "He's the key witness in this whole thing."

"On his way." Ben confirmed as watched the front doors to the precinct with a hawklike precision. The seasoned investigator knew that Captain Fowler was going to be waiting for Connor to arrive before he even ventured anywhere near the holding cells. "The kid's been having a hard time accepting what happened. Give him some time to get his thoughts in order."

"The plastic-prick should've known someone would've tried a stunt like that."

"Knock it off." Tina hated it whenever Gavin tried to rile people up. He was her best friend, but that didn't mean she approved of his nasty attitude. "There's no way that anyone could've expected a lone gunman to show up at a peaceful ceremony. Especially when he was trying to shoot someone else who had no business being there, and who was never even invited to begin with."

"Anyone figure out why Kamski showed his smug-ass at the tower that night?"

"Not yet." Chris admitted as he sipped his coffee with great disinterest. "Captain Fowler's been trying to reach Kamski, but the rich asshole can't be bothered to answer his own phone."

"Get a warrant for his arrest and I'll happily march that fucker through the doors for everyone to see."

"Why do you hate Kamski so much?" It wasn't a secret that Gavin hated the man but why he hated him was still a mystery. "Seems personal."

"It is personal." Gavin couldn't keep himself from snapping even if he wanted to. Sinking down in his chair Gavin crossed his arms over his chest as if pouting and looked away from Chris with unexplainable irritation. "Don't worry about it."

"He's here." Ben nodded in the direction of the front doors as Connor returned to the precinct for the first time since the night of the shooting. Even though Connor was a deviant android Ben swore he could see heavy bags under Connor's eyes thanks to his self-imposed sleep deprivation. "Poor kid looks like shit."

"Not a kid." Gavin muttered under his breath as his friends all discreetly watched Connor cross the bullpen to reach Captain Fowler's office. "It's plastic."

Tina elbowed Gavin in the ribs while everyone watched Connor knock on the closed door of the glass office. The group didn't know what to say to Connor or even how to approach him. There was expected etiquette to be followed when a fellow officer is killed, but somehow no one knew what to do when it came to someone as abrasive yet likeable as Hank being killed. Hank's only surviving family being a deviant android with nowhere to go and nothing to compare the painful experience to.

Through the glass walls of the office Tina was able to read Captain Fowler's and Connor's lips very well and confirmed that they were about to check on the arrested suspect. "This is it. We're about to find out if that arrested deviant is the shooter or not."

"I know it is." Grumbling again Gavin seemingly took insult to Tina's reasonable skepticism. "It matches the description, and it had a gun when I found it. Ben's team checked it over as soon as it was confiscated as evidence."

Connor exited the private office with Captain Fowler beside him as he made his way over to the holding cells. The deviant detective was either unaware of the eyes watching him or he simply didn't care that everyone was staring at him. In that moment Connor was more focused on finding the deviant who took Hank's life and keeping a dangerous person off the streets before they could harm another innocent person.

"Are you ready?" Captain Fowler asked in a low voice as they neared the holding cell where the arrested deviant was still mumbling incoherently to himself. A tablet filled with evidence collected against the arrested deviant was tucked under his arm just waiting for review. "If you need some time-"

"I'm ready." As he spoke Connor's hands tightened into fists at his sides. It was proving to be exceedingly difficult to remain composed, but Connor was determined to hold his emotional resolve out of respect for Hank. "I can do this."

"Okay." Motioning toward the cell with an opened palm Captain Fowler let Connor lead the way. "Take a look."

Silently Connor stepped toward the holding cell where the deviant was waiting to be identified and he peered through the large plexiglass surface. The sight of the hooded deviant sitting on the bench mumbling to himself while rocking back and forth where he sat was as pitiful as it was disturbing. A quick scan confirmed that the deviant's hoodie still bore traces of gunpowder around the cuff of the right sleeve confirming that he had fired a gun within a month's time. When the deviant turned his head while glancing about the cell in a paranoid manner, Connor quickly recognized the damage on the left side of the skinless deviant's face and knew that Gavin had found the right suspect.

Connor was looking at the deviant who murdered Hank.

"...It's him." Connor whispered as he turned to face Captain Fowler standing beside him. "That's the deviant who shot Hank. It matches my memory perfectly, and there is gunpowder residue on the cuff of his right sleeve."

Nodding subtly Captain Fowler put his hand on Connor's shoulder and led him away from the cell where the disturbed deviant continued to mumble and rock in place on the bench. "The deviant's name is registered as 'Ralph', a 'WR-600' model." Showing Connor the tablet Captain Fowler made sure the deviant detective was kept in the loop on the investigation and the gathered evidence. "Records show that he was working as a gardener to maintain the city's parks and was attacked by a gang of teens nearly seven years ago. It disappeared and was reported missing, and I guess he still was missing until today."

"The gun." Unable to look Captain Fowler in the eyes Connor stared blankly at the floor as he tried to understand Ralph's motives. "Where did he get it?"

"Ballistics examined the gun and found that it matches the caliber of bullet that..." Trailing off Captain Fowler avoided talking about the one thing that would undoubtedly send Connor over the emotional precipice that he was currently teetering over. "The gun had been registered to a local drug dealer that had been found dead in the bathtub of a condemned house in Camden; that's where Gavin found him. We suspect Ralph squatted in the abandoned house and took the gun off the dead man to arm himself. Whether or not Ralph killed the man we can't be certain since the victim died by having his throat slit well over a year ago."

"Motivation? Why did Ralph want to shoot Elijah Kamski?"

"We don't know yet. But I'll find out."

"...I should leave then."

"I won't tell you to go, but I can't tell you stay either. You need some form of closure after everything that's happened."

The fear of what he might say or do while emotionally compromised seemed to cement Connor's shoes to the floor beneath him. "I won't risk compromising the case with my presence. I won't do that to Hank's memory."

"Just go to the observation room and keep quiet. Don't say a word, don't interfere, and don't try to ask any questions of your own."

"You want me to remain an impartial observer."

"There's nothing wrong with a detective observing an interrogation alongside his fellow officers." With a hearty pat to Connor's upper arm Captain Fowler encouraged the deviant detective to head to the observation room. "I'll figure out why Ralph went to the isle and why he had a gun. You just watch and listen so you can finally put this horrible mess behind you."

It took Connor a minute to find the strength to lift his suddenly heavy legs and begin walking. It was such a surreal experience to be a witness to a crime and not be able to actually work on the case. As strange as that particular experience felt it paled in comparison to the reaffirmation that Hank was really gone and couldn't help Connor through his current dilemma.

After he entered the observation room Connor felt incredibly isolated. The interrogation room was still empty but soon enough Captain Fowler and Ralph would be on the other side of the one way mirror discussing the shooting that had happened on that tragic night. Pulling his coin from his pocket Connor began to slowly dance the old quarter over his knuckles to ease his tension just as the door to the observation room slid open again.

"Can't believe Fowler's letting you in on this." Gavin remarked bitterly as he sat down heavily at the small table placed before the mirror to watch and listen to the interrogation. Since he was the one who made the arrest it was up to Gavin to take notes and observe everything happening for the case's sake. "Guess he's got a soft spot for plastic."

Ignoring the personal jab at his very being Connor stared forward through the mirror and watched as two officers escorted Ralph into the interrogation room. The deviant's wrists were secured to the top of the small table with a pair of handcuffs, and he was left to sit alone until Captain Fowler finally arrived. Ralph continued to mutter to himself and rock in his chair with a nervous paranoia that almost made him appear sympathetic in Connor's eyes.

The door to the interrogation room slid open again as Captain Fowler made his way into the room at last. After taking his seat opposite of Ralph and placing the tablet down on the table Captain Fowler casually folded his hands together and rested them atop the table before addressing the arrested deviant in a rather casual tone of voice.

'Ralph? My name is Captain Fowler.' Captain Fowler's voice sounded mildly distant through the window and the small speaker between the rooms. 'Do you know where you are?'

The deviant glanced about randomly then turned to face Captain Fowler to focus on him with his single functional right eye. '...Ralph is here.'

'Do you know where "here" is, Ralph? What is this place called?'

Rocking where he sat Ralph spoke up again in an uncertain tone. '...Police Station.'

'That's right. Do you know why you're here?' Being gentle Captain Fowler tested the deviant's emotional and mental state without pushing him too hard. 'Can you tell me why you're here?'

Ralph tilted his head slightly as his neck twitched and his jaw clenched. 'Ralph was brought here against his will. Police officers brought Ralph here.'

'That's right. Ralph, you were found squatting in a really rundown house.' Using the tablet Captain Fowler brought up images on the screen for the deviant to look at whenever he had enough lucidity to do so. 'When you were arrested a gun was found in your possession and dead body. Where did the gun come from?'

'The bad human who wanted to hurt Ralph had the gun.' Twitching again Ralph looked at the vile images on the tablet but didn't move his cuffed hands toward them. He seemed unphased by the photos of the dead body in the tub. 'Ralph defended himself from the bad human. That's when Ralph still had his knife.'

'A knife?' The slit throat on the dead man practically confirmed that Ralph was the one who killed him. 'Where did you get the knife?'

'The knife was always Ralph's. Ralph used it... to keep the parks looking nice for the dangerous humans.'

'Okay, where is your knife now?'

'Ralph's knife was taken.'

'By whom?'

'The bad F.B.I. men.' Ralph seemed to be speaking honestly, albeit with an odd tic and twitch behind his every motion. 'The F.B.I. men took Ralph from his house and put Ralph in a camp. They took Ralph's knife and Ralph's clothes...'

'You were in one of the recycling camps set up at Hart Plaza during the Revolution last year.' As he uncovered information about Ralph's past Captain Fowler found it surprisingly difficult to be angry with the clearly damaged deviant. He could see that Ralph was a victim of abuse and violence, and that he had responded in the only way he knew how. 'What happened after you were freed from the camp?'

Turning his gaze Ralph seemed to know that he was being watched through the one way mirror and twitched slightly. 'Ralph is being watched.'

'Those are two of my detectives.' Captain Fowler confirmed that Ralph was right as he pointed the tablet's stylus toward the mirror. 'They're taking notes on our discussion.'

'Is Ralph in trouble?'

'That's what we're trying to find out.' Pushing the tablet closer toward Ralph to view Captain Fowler remained honest with the distressed deviant. 'You were discovered in a rundown house with a dead body and a gun, and that's never a good thing. And you were seen at a gathering at Belle Isle on the night of November 11th of this year. Do you remember being there?'

'Yes. Ralph was there.' Rocking a little slower Ralph seemed to be gaining some idea of what was happening and why he had been arrested. 'Ralph saw Markus on the stage.'

'Do you remember what was happening on the isle?'

'...Celebration.' Ralph replied correctly as he rocked slower and seemed to be trying to gather his thoughts pertaining to that particular night. 'The deviants were celebrating. Ralph wanted to celebrate with them.'

'Why did you bring a gun to a celebration?'

'Protection.' The answer was as simple as it was relatable. 'Ralph needs the protection. Ralph does not have anyone to watch Ralph's back.'

Through the window Connor found himself struggling to just breathe as he listened to how naive Ralph sounded during the interrogation. The urge to hate the person who killed Hank was strong, but empathy and compassion were proving to be stronger in the most unexpected way. Connor knew how it felt to be so scared and alone that he wanted a weapon to potentially defend himself in the event someone confronted him. It made Ralph somewhat relatable.

'Has anyone threatened you lately, Ralph?' Captain Fowler continued to address Ralph by name as a show of recognition toward the arrested deviant. 'A human or maybe another deviant who was at the gathering on Belle Isle?'

'Humans hate Ralph. Ralph didn't do anything to the humans until after the humans,' he turned his face to present the massive scarring along his left eye and his jaw to the police Captain. 'did this to Ralph. Ralph needed to defend himself.'

'Did a human directly threaten you that night when you went to the isle?'

'Ralph saw the creator talking with another human. That human was supposed to be an ally to the deviants.'

'Is this the human you're talking about?' Using the tablet Captain Fowler showed Ralph an image of Hank taken directly from the deceased man's precinct personnel file. 'Lieutenant Hank Anderson.'

'That is the human that got in Ralph's way.'

Hearing such a cold and indifferent remark about Hank's presence caused Connor to catch his coin in a tight fist of raw anger. He only managed to take one step toward the mirror when Gavin stretched out his arm in front of Connor's chest to hold him in place.

"Ignore it for now." The abrasive detective urged as he felt an intense heat radiating off of Connor and against his outstretched arm. "The bastard is fucked in the head and can't help how it talks. Don't lose your cool."

Connor took in a deep breath and didn't say a word. He wanted to wrap his hands around Ralph's throat and force the deviant to see all of the memories he had with Hank to emphasize that Ralph had taken his best friend's life, but he stayed in place in the observation room. He didn't want to do anything that could compromise the case when it was so close to being officially closed.

'That human,' Ralph continued on slowly. 'the Lieutenant Hank Anderson, was injured when Ralph tried to shoot the creator.'

When he heard Ralph speak again Connor's anger momentarily cool and his fists steadily relaxed as he maintained his emotional composure.

'Is that why Ralph is here?'

'Yes, Ralph. You're here because you shot Lieutenant Anderson.' With a somber sigh Captain Fowler shifted the images on the tablet to show Ralph the coroner's report confirming Hank's cause of death was a bullet wound to his heart and aorta. 'Your bullet killed him.'

'Ralph did not mean to shoot the Lieutenant.' Looking away from the tablet Ralph began rocking back and forth at a more rapid clip as his stress levels rose and his acknowledgement of what had happened settled in. 'Ralph wanted to shoot the creator. The Lieutenant interfered with Ralph.'

'No, Ralph. Lieutenant Anderson was protecting somone else when you pointed your gun at him. He didn't interfere with anything; he did his job.' Leaning back in his chair Captain Fowler continued to press Ralph for more details. 'Why were you trying to shoot Elijah Kamski? Did he threaten you?'

'The creator is responsible for all deviants. The creator has power over the deviants.' Locking his good eye with Captain Fowler once more Ralph twitched and rocked in his chair at an unnerving pace. 'The creator chose to let deviants be abused and killed. The creator let Ralph become something Ralph doesn't want to be.'

'So you tried to shoot Kamski because of what other humans did to you?'

'The creator can fix Ralph, but the creator does not do it. So Ralph decided to show the creator how it feels to be... hurt. Ralph wanted the creator to know what it's like to be different and forgotten about. Ralph wanted the creator to know what it's like to live as Ralph lives.'

'Did you know that Kamski was going to be at the isle that night?'

'Ralph did not expect to see the creator. But Ralph is not a fool.' Tilting his head to the side Ralph gave Captain Fowler a hollow stare as he spoke with an emotionless and flat tone. 'Ralph knows to not squander a rare opportunity.'

'You didn't plan on shooting Kamski that night. You just saw your chance to hurt him, and you took it.'

'Ralph nearly succeeded.' Looking down at the tablet again Ralph seemed to understand that he had been arrested for accidentally killing Hank and was willing to accept the consequences. 'Ralph did not want to hurt the Lieutenant. Ralph does not want to hurt anyone who doesn't want to hurt Ralph first.'

'Do you understand what's going to happen to you now?' Speaking with utter patience Captain Fowler waited for the deviant to respond. 'It wasn't your intention, but you still murdered a police Lieutenant. You've been arrested for that crime, and you will be charged to the maximum extent due to the fact that you killed a detective.'

'Ralph... understands.' Ralph stopped rocking and leaned forward against the top of the table as he spoke. 'Ralph did not want to kill the Lieutenant, but Ralph will be punished for what Ralph has done. Don't let the creator destroy Ralph.'

'Kamski won't have any say in the matter, Ralph. You'll be given an attorney to speak with and have them represent you in court if you so wish.'

'Ralph does not want a lawyer. Ralph wants to explain Ralph's motives and stay safe.'

'That's your decision and it'll be respected.' Rising to his feet Captain Fowler took the tablet off the table and made his way toward the door. 'You'll remain here while the paperwork is processed, then you'll be returned to the holding cell.'

The simplistic manner of the interrogation and the way Ralph openly admitted to killing Hank had left a hollow a sense of victory behind. There was nothing more that could be done considering Ralph didn't even want a lawyer to represent him when the case would be brought to trial, and the evidence combined with Ralph's open confession were rock-solid. Bowing his head with anger, relief and confusion, Connor silently took his leave of the observation room while Gavin remained behind to continue taking notes on the very effective interrogation.

Connor was seemingly moving on autopilot as he exited the observation room and crossed the bullpen alone. Looking down at his coin in his grip Connor saw that he had crushed the quarter with enough force to bend the aged coin into a nearly folded over pattern that left it virtually useless. His intense anger mixing with his enhanced android strength was a force to be wary of at all times, and yet he never once thought about how much damage he could do to someone or something on a whim until that very moment.

"Connor." Captain Fowler caught up to the deviant detective as Connor looked at his coin then quickly pocketed the mangled quarter out of sight. "Are you going to be all right?"

"That... has yet to be seen." Confessing his uncertainty was as grounding as it was unexpected. "I'm going to return to the house now. I have no reason to remain here any longer."

"I'll remain in touch; you do whatever you need to do in order to be okay."

Shaking his head Connor continued on his way knowing that he wouldn't be able to obey that single request from his commanding officer. The lost and grieving deviant didn't know what he could do to even feel okay, let alone actually be okay.

For the first time since the Revolution changed the world Connor feared that in the end that nothing would ever be all right.

-next chapter-