Chapter Text
NOV 11TH, 2038
PM 09:12
The drive to Detroit harbor is eerie on so many levels. The city is practically on lockdown by now. With most of the androids sent off to death camps, there’s a multitude of problems already. Power outages, major shortages in sales staff causing half the petrol stations and shops to close, androids getting shot in the streets. They’re passing such an incident right now. Some of them are kneeling on the sidewalk, hands behind their heads, begging, only to get shot in the head at point blank. There’s a spray of blue blood as they drop to the ground, followed by silence.
Hank isn’t driving. And it’s probably better this way. He’s pretty sure he would have steered the car onto the pedestrian path by now to run over each son of a bitch that is shooting alive beings on the sidewalks. The Lieutenant winces at the sight of the dead bodies and lets out a frustrated grunt, turning his head away from the carnage they’re passing so he can focus on Connor instead.
Connor, who is driving his car, wearing his clothes, listening to his music.
Connor, who is deviant just like the murdered androids.
The younger man is looking ahead, keeping an eye on the icy road with a neutral look on his face. Although he looks ridiculous with that beanie, Hank is so glad he’s made him wear it now. This way, the LED is tugged away. This way, if they do get stopped, it’ll make it even easier to convince people that Connor is his “son”. The son of a police lieutenant who he would not allow to get shot under any fucking circumstances.
He is so scared for the kid’s life, and that’s only adding up to all his other fears. Since he has spent so many hours today looking at Cole’s photo, drinking, replaying the car crash over and over again, being inside the car in the snow is bringing Hank close to a panic attack. His drunken brain goes haywire on crazy ideas. Another crash happening. Connor dying in said crash. Them surviving the crash and getting rescued by people, who then spot the android’s LED and shoot him on sight like those androids they’ve driven past. Connor not dying but being damaged. With no help coming and no spare parts, bleeding out while needing repairs/ surgery. Just like Cole.
He needs a drink.
Hank sorts through his clothes to get to the flask he’s taken with him on this trip. Revolution or not. Making history or not. He can’t bear to make it through this night sober. Hank takes a long sip and notices Connor’s barely visible side glare. Even though he can’t see the LED, he’s sure it’s twirling yellow again. The Lieutenant really wants to talk. The air is way too thick in this car already, it’s almost as if he can cut through the tension with a knife. He thinks he knows what Connor is thinking about saying. Maybe you should’ve stayed back home, Lieutenant. He also knows that Connor won’t say it because staying at home won’t make it any better. Because then Connor has to fear the whole gun thing again. The gun he’s tossed outside the window. The gun that has caused him to deviate.
Hank is aware that he isn’t really coming along the ride to help Connor in Jericho. There’s nothing he can do in this situation. Not just because he is in a terrible mental state and really really drunk, but also because he is human. He’s sitting in this car for two reasons: 1. it’s his car and Connor needs it to get to Jericho. 2. With him along the ride, Connor can babysit him.
For the past couple of years, Hank Anderson hasn’t given a single shit about anything. Being drunk in public and at work. Snapping at people and cursing all the time, getting into fights, making his disciplinary folder look like a fucking novel, the way Jeffrey had put it. For the first time in god knows how long, he feels ashamed of himself now. Connor has said it multiple times. He used to be a damn good detective, a good man. Respected in the force, the entire city. This revolution right here, what is happening to Connor… He needs someone like the old Hank Anderson. Not the shadow of a person he currently is. A drunk needing a babysitter. Especially when said babysitter is busy trying to save lives and change the world.
Hanks needs to talk. Because there’s so much to say. Connor has deviated and they’ve barely spoken about anything substantial. He’s staring at the android, trying to come up with the right words and the right questions to ask.
What is going on inside your head right now?
What are you thinking?
What are you feeling?
Are you still scared?
How does it make you feel, seeing your own people get shot in the streets?
Do you really think so highly of me? Why?
Are you fucking blind?
What are you thinking, Connor?
“So what’s your plan?” Hank ends up asking when they pass another horrible sight of murdered androids.
Because that’s it. He needs to get his shit together. They need to sort it all out.
“Regarding which objective?” Connor asks with a little frown. Hank just keeps staring at the android, very much interested in all his little mannerisms and reactions now that he is deviant.
“Helping Jericho. Stopping the raid. Stopping this” Hank answers, pointing at the dead androids lining the street.
After a short pause, he feels like he needs to be more sincere, as the apology for his previous behavior.
“I need to know how this is gonna go so I can help you, Connor.”
Connor’s grip around the steering wheel tightens a little.
“I’m…going to infiltrate Jericho, find Markus, and tell him that a special task force is on their way to raid their hideout. Then I’m going to convince him and the deviants to relocate.”
“And how exactly are you gonna do that?”
“I’m a hostage negotiator, Hank. Convincing people to do something is one of my features.”
Hank’s eyes narrow a little.
“Hmhm, so you convince them to flee. And then what?”
They turn a corner. None of the street lights are working on this entire block. They can barely see each other’s faces.
“…then they go into hiding” Connor answers, and although Hank can’t see his face, he can hear the uncertainty and confusion in his voice. If his previous emotional outburst hasn’t been telling enough already …this moment right here is. It’s becoming fairly obvious that Connor doesn’t have a particularly thought out plan or predetermined algorithm for this mission once he’s talked to Markus. It’s the first time he is basing an entire mission on his own ideas, choices and free will. Something he obviously has great trouble with. Hank keeps looking at him even though it is dark and he can barely see his face. He decides that this is the time to talk about the issue.
“Pull over.”
“Lieutenant, Agent Perkins is already on his way, we don’t have much time and I think…”
“Pull over, Connor” Hank demands, although his voice is gentle. Connor keeps driving, his jaw clenching a little, until he does as requested, parking the car on the side of the deserted street. The Lieutenant winces when he realizes that he’s fallen into old habits of giving Connor orders and the android obeying. Even now, Connor is still staring straight ahead, avoiding Hank’s gaze when he turns towards him.
“How do you feel about this revolution?” Hank asks after a moment of silence to let the android settle.
“What do you think your people should do?”
Connor turns his head and looks at Hank, the expression on his face looking so eerily like a machine again.
“I already told you, Hank. No machine should rise up against its creator. We’re on the brink of a civil war. Just look around you. They need to stop this.”
Around them is nothing but darkness and silence. In that darkness, Hank can see a dark figure hanging from a lamp post to their right, swaying gently. The silence is only interrupted by the occasional string of gunshots. He lets out a disbelieving scoff.
“Oh I did look around. And I just saw innocent androids getting shot up in the streets simply for wanting to be free and for feeling emotions. Rising up against your creators should not be punished with brutal death. This ain’t the dark ages, it’s 2038 for Christ’s sakes. You need to understand that this is wrong, Connor” the Lieutenant says, pointing at the dark figure hanging from the lamp post. “Humans need to stop what they’re doing here. Not Markus and his people. Your people.”
Connor turns his head and is staring straight ahead again, not saying anything for a while, his hands still on the steering wheel. He won’t look at the hanged android either. This frustrates Hank, because he has expected so much more. He’s thought that Connor being deviant would mean all the other things he has witnessed with the cases they have investigated. Him expressing a full range of emotions. Hatred. A need for revenge. Love. Family. However, he still acts and thinks the same way. But then Hank notices it. The android’s tight grip on the steering wheel. Making it perfectly clear that although his face looks indifferent, he does feel something. Frustration or anger. And it suddenly goes click inside Hank’s head. This isn’t the behavior of machine that doesn’t feel anything. It’s denial. He’s fighting it. His partner is deliberately choosing indifference as emotion.
“I’ve hunted and killed them, too” the android suddenly says, even though he still won’t look at Hank. “I shot three androids with my own hands. Just like those humans did.” There is another pause. Then he goes on. “I’m in no position to judge.”
“You didn’t shoot the girl in the end. You stopped” the Lieutenant reminds him. “And you shot the others because you were programmed to do so at that time. You didn’t have a choice. Or a moral concept of right and wrong. Those people out there do. They’re choosing to be ignorant and cruel. They choose to be selfish assholes. Big difference.” Hank tries to lean in a little closer, feeling ashamed again when Connor visibly winces at the scent of alcohol coming his way because of it.
“Would you do the same thing now? Shoot them if you met them now? Punish them for simply breaking their program?”
“No” Connor says after a moment, a frown forming on his forehead.
“Then what makes you believe the deviants are doing the wrong thing here? Why do you want them to stop? They’re fighting for your freedom and rights” Hank asks, frowning as well because he cannot possibly make sense of Connor’s reasoning. Connor won’t grant him an answer and looks away. Although it pisses Hank off that he won’t get an answer, he’s proud at the same time. Proud that the android is making his own choices to protect himself and his thoughts now. Even if that choice means not giving an answer when questioned. An uncomfortable silence spreads out between them and Hank withdraws, at a loss of words. He’s not really good at the whole talking and being reasonable thing anymore.
“Let’s..just go and warn them. Forget I asked” the older of the two says after a moment, deciding to give his friend some space. Connor however won’t do as suggested. He keeps sitting there. Car on idle, making no moves to get back to driving. Instead, he starts fidgeting. After a long moment of silence, Connor eventually opens up.
“I don’t know how I feel about the revolution, Hank. I don’t know if I want them to fight for their rights or if I think they should be stopped. All I know is that I don’t want anyone else to get hurt because of my previous actions and findings. No human. No android. Not Markus. Not Jericho. Not me. Not you. I want them to stop so no one else has to die. That’s all.”
He pulls the car back on the street to keep driving. Hank is still looking at him but won’t say anything because he can’t. The android next to him has been designed to resemble a man in his late twenties to mid-thirties. For the most part, he’s accepted this idea of Connor being in his late twenties to mid-thirties, all thanks to Cyberlife’s creepily accurate design. He has seen Connor kill and chase relentlessly. All of this has made him forget that the android isn’t even one year old. For the first time, Connor’s age is really showing, his almost childlike innocence. Believing that he can save everyone, that everyone can survive in the end if they just stick their heads in the sand and wait it all out. He wants to tell Connor that he’s wrong to blame himself for any of this, too. That some things, like the revolution and everything surrounding Markus and Jericho, are almost entirely out of their hands anyway. But all those words get stuck in his throat because he feels called out.
This is exactly what the rational part of his brain has been trying to tell him for the past three years. That truck. The ice. That surgeon. That android. These types of injuries. None of those were your fault. All of that was out of your hands. Bad things happen. Stop blaming yourself for things you never had any control over.
Just like Connor, he’s in denial. Would rather believe his own mantras and alternations of the truth. So he says nothing.
NOV 11TH, 2038
PM 09:34
“I think I should come with you. I’m gonna freeze my ass off out here otherwise” the Lieutenant says, acting all casual as thick white clouds leave his mouth with each word spoken. Snow has started falling, landing all over his clothes, his hair, running down his neck, making him shiver. It’s way too freaking cold for all of this. It doesn’t matter that this isn’t the real reason why he wants to come with, it’s true regardless.
“They know you’re human. And they know about our history of hunting androids. Didn’t you say that they wouldn’t let us in because of that, even though I’m deviant?” Connor asks, eyes fixed on the rusting freighter marked with the letters “Jericho”. They’re not the only ones in the vicinity. Other androids are coming from all over. Fleeing the city raids and death in the streets. All of them are trying to find refuge in Jericho. They’re parked right next to an abandoned warehouse, hidden away in the dark to take a moment and to make sure that the army isn’t around yet.
“Yeah, I know what I said” Hank growls angrily, wrapping his arms around himself even more. “Doesn’t change the fact that it’s fucking freezing out here.”
Connor scans the freighter and their surroundings a little longer, busy with his preconstructions and probabilities.
“They haven’t arrived yet” he concludes a moment later, then turns around to face Hank. “But they will soon. If I fail to convince the androids to leave in time, the army will storm Jericho and start shooting anything that moves. You can’t be inside when this happens. Androids are designed to withstand 7.46 times as many bullets as humans. Meaning you would be the most vulnerable entity in there when it happens. I won’t allow that. My mission is to keep my partner safe.”
Hank clenches both his hands to tight fists and grits his teeth.
When.
When it happens.
Connor has done the math. He knows it will probably happen. They have wasted too much time to get here.
“Listen kid, I’ve been in law enforcement for over 30 years. I took down an entire drug cartel. Don’t you tell me I’m vulnerable. Besides, I don’t give a shit if I get shot! I say we…”
“I need you outside, Hank” the android interrupts his partner when he’s about to throw another heated hissy fit. “I need you to call me as soon as they reach the intersection off of Central Avenue. There’s a high chance they will cross this intersection on their way here. By the time they get here, I’ll have had enough time to get Markus and his people to evacuate. But for this to work, I need you on location to be able to make the call.”
Hank considers himself a grown ass hardened police lieutenant. He can take down drug lords and criminals single-handedly. Has made some of them cry. But he still doesn’t stand a chance against Connor’s pleading looks. He knows that the android is full of shit. Knows that this is his perfect little scenario to have him 1. away from an impending massacre 2. Not at home ready to off himself again 3. Think he’s helping with this whole thing, an asset to the mission and not just sitting ducks. He knows it’s a farce. But time is running out and they don’t have the time to argue all over again. Hank also knows that it’s ridiculous to believe he was ever going to step foot in Jericho in the first place. He has no right or business to be there. Yet he can’t help but feel the need to be there –do something right now. Protect Connor at least, since he’s already failed protecting his own flesh and blood.
“When they attack, I will also need a way out. I won’t make it on foot. Central Avenue is close enough to the river. I’m going jump and swim downstream in case of an ambush. It would provide better cover. So I need you to st…”
Connor is full of shit. Yet all Hank can do is play along.
“All right, all right all right, zip it. I’m going, just…free your people, okay?”
“Thank you, Lieutenant” Connor says, falling into old habits. He turns around to get going without another word, surprising Hank.
“Hey, Connor!” he calls after the android, an intense fear creeping up his spine. Because he suddenly realizes that this could be the last time he sees Connor, his Connor alive. Hank presses his lips together and clenches both fists even tighter, trying to battle the panic and depression that is bubbling up all over again.
“You watch your back, all right?” he says when the android stops walking and turns back around to face him. “No dying. I want to see you back in one piece.”
They look at each other for a moment, snow starting to settle on their shoulders. Then Connor shows his first genuine smile. Not a terrible faked one like the goddamn creepy one he’s seen him flash on his first day back at the DPD. No this time, the smile spreads across his entire face, showing a happy sparkle in his brown eyes.
“I was just going to tell you the same thing, Hank.”
It’s a wordless promise. Staying alive. For each other. The corners of Hank’s mouth inch upwards.
“Now go!”
Connor nods and twirls around, breaking into a sprint towards the freighter.
“Remember! Central Avenue, Lieutenant!” he reminds him, then disappears into the dark.
Detroit Riverfront
PM 10:40
The flask is empty.
Not a drop of alcohol left. If he could, Hank would throw the flask into the river. But he can’t. It’s a gift and he can’t bring himself to get rid of it. Plus, it’s a flask for storing alcohol. He loves drinking. There’s another, even more frustrating reason why he can’t just toss it.
The river is frozen down here.
Knowing Connor and his super computer brain, the little fucker probably knew all about the river being frozen. And he’s still told him this big lie about swimming to safety in order to soothe him, get him here. Hank is sitting on the hood of his car, looking around, eyes flicking back and forth between the abandoned freighter in the distance and Central Avenue. There is not a single soul on the streets right now and it is eerily silent. Too silent. It almost feels like static in the air. A bomb waiting to detonate. Even his gut instinct can tell that something is going to happen very soon.
Just like Connor with all his lying and manipulating to get him away from Jericho and home, he hasn’t been completely honest either. He’s never told Connor that he has a second gun stored in the glove department of his car. Has it right here with him. He has no fucking idea how all of this is going to go. His depressed brain is naturally telling him that everything is going to go wrong. Jericho is going to get raided. They’re all going to get massacred in there, including Connor. The android revolution will cease to exist. Detroit, the country, maybe even the world will hit another economic and domestic disaster way worse than the ones that had happened in 2008 and 2022, all thanks to millions of android workforces being wiped out. Crime and drugs will be on the rise again. Russia and the US will enter a third world war over the Arctic. World fucking ends. If just one thing of all that happens, if Connor doesn’t get out of this alive, he will take the gun and blow his brains out right here. Just as he’s planned to do it tonight anyway, before Connor had stormed back into his life like that. With the revolution failing and Connor dying, it won’t be a world he wants to live in anymore.
10 minutes pass. 15.
Hank is close to pulling the trigger just to end his freaking boredom.
He is about to get inside the car and drive over after all, fed up with sitting ducks and being led around like a kid not allowed to play with the adults. He gets up from the hood of his car, reaching for the keys in his jacket to get going. Dead set on entering Jericho after all. Then he sees the APC. Then another. Then another. Then a SWAT car. Rows upon rows of black government vehicles. Entering the intersection and crossing Central Avenue. Just like Connor’s said.
They’re coming.
They’re really coming for Jericho.
His partner.
Instead of reaching for the keys, Hank’s shaky hands start fumbling for his phone. “Call Connor” he orders the device, but auto-dial won’t react. “CALL CONNOR YOU DUMB PIECE OF SHIT” the Lieutenant yells at his phone, shaking even harder. When he turns his head again, he can barely catch sight of the last car crossing the intersection. Then they’re gone. Headed towards Jericho. Hank looks back down at the phone in his hands.
His hands are shaking. From the cold. From the pain. From the cuts all over the palms of his hands and fingers. There is blood everywhere. His own from where the broken windshield has cut him. Cole’s blood, all over him. He’s pressing the buttons again and again, hitting the wrong numbers because everything is sticky with blood, because he’s in shock. It takes him way too long to get the phone to call 911, call for help. He’s a shaking and weeping mess, tears clouding his vision and making it even harder to interact with the device. He hates all these machine fors dominating their lives. Hates that ridiculous automated car for crashing, that automated truck for rolling them over, hurting his son so much, hates the automated call system when he finally gets through to the ambulance.
Plastic Prick.
It says in bold lettering on his phone after he’s spent a good few seconds hastily scrolling through his contacts to find “Connor” and not seeing him there. He’s never saved Connor under his name. Of course his phone wouldn’t know who to call. He presses the call contact button manually, refusing to say Plastic Prick out loud ever again when talking about Connor. There’s one ring and he’s connected already. Hank nearly drops the phone in excitement and terror.
“They’re on their way kid, I just saw them. Jesus Christ, get the hell outta there now. I’m coming to get you” he says, rounding the car and nearly slipping on the ice on his way to the driver’s door. “Connor! Can you hear me? Say something goddamn it!”
He’s surprised to find out that his 53 year old heart can still beat so fast without tripping all over itself. Can seemingly stop so abruptly when the next thing happens. The ground is suddenly shaking. There’s a blinding bright light right in front of him, just up the river. Then he hears the ear-shattering bang arrive a second later. When Hank looks up from his car, all he sees is fire. There is a giant fireball expanding into the night sky. Right where the freighter had been just a second ago. The light is coming from that very explosion. The deviant refuge has gone up in flames. Hank freezes in the spot and stares at the fireball in absolute horror. Even all the way down here, he can feel the heat. A sudden beeping noise in his ear reminds him that he’s still holding the phone.
The call has been disconnected.
PM 11:03
Hank Anderson is speeding down the icy road, constantly looking back and forth between the riverbank and the road ahead. The dark part of him that has been right about the world ending tells him to just yank the steering wheel as far to the right as it can go so the car crashes right into that river. Breaks the ice and sinks all the way to the bottom with him in it. An ending rather fitting for him. Ice taking his son. Fire taking the other. Fire melting ice, forming water, drowning him. But he knows he can’t do it just yet. Not when he hasn’t made sure about Connor.
He slams the hand against the steering wheel, making the car swerve because of the hit, the ice, his drunken state, the speed he’s going with. His eyes flicker back towards the river. He can’t see shit. Hank yanks at the steering wheel after all and forces the car out of the lane and towards the river, making it swerve until it starts drifting out of control, sliding around a full 360°. When it comes to a clumsy halt close to the barrier dividing the river and road, Hank is already outside, jumping over it so he can ran along the riverbed. He’s been on the stop and go ever since that explosion, continuously halting his drive to be able to search the waterline. For Connor, for any other androids, any form of life. There is nothing but ice and snow and fire and smoke in the distance.
“CONNOR!” he yells again, searching the frozen river even though he knows that it’s ridiculous. But Connor has said he’d jump into the water and use it as getaway. The thought is a lifeline, the only thing keeping Hank from ending it. For two and a half hours he’s believed that maybe that shitshow that his life has become could actually get better again. For two and a half hours he’s felt some sort of cautious hope for a better future, felt purpose. 150 minutes of almost changing his mind about his wish to die tonight. And he’s back to ground zero.
Hank jogs back towards his car, now that it’s obvious that Connor isn’t here either. He jumps back inside the vehicle, settling into the driver’s seat. His eyes move over to the empty passenger seat, fixing on his phone. Still no call. Still no message. He thinks about calling Jeffrey. To ask for help. Beg him for the sake of their 30 years of working together, to send back up, someone, the whole fucking department for a search and rescue.
His pride won’t allow it. And neither does this reality.
He knows Jeffrey won’t help him here. Neither will the DPD. Connor is still an android. Connor still doesn’t have rights, especially when his people are currently getting raided and mass executed. Raided by special forces and law enforcement. Everything he’s turned his back on with his resignation. He’s all alone with this. He’s pushed everyone away after Cole’s death, wanted nothing more than to be alone with his dog, alcohol and self pity. Now he really is alone. His eyes flicker over to the glove department, knowing the gun to be there. After a moment, he decides against using it. Not until he’s made sure. Even if it means entering that burning and sinking mess of a ship. Or getting killed by the army for being a traitor. He doesn’t give a shit. He needs to find the kid. Make sure he’s all right. Hank reaches for the ignition to keep driving, only to stop in his tracks when his phone starts vibrating. The car’s engine dies when he immediately lets go of the clutch and key in order to jump for it.
1 New Message
Received on 11/11/2038, 11:09pm
>>Select to read<<<
Connor:
I managed to escape Jericho. I’m alive. Meet me in Riverside Park in 30 minutes.
Hank reads the message again and again. After almost half a minute, he suddenly realizes that he needs air. He doesn’t know how long he’s stopped breathing for. When he finally inhales it’s a big and loud one, allowing the relief to wash over him. I managed to escape Jericho. I’m alive. Hank tosses the phone away and turns his head to stare out the window to his left, pressing a fist to his mouth. He grabs for the flask inside his jacket and curses the moment he remembers that it’s empty. Pressing the fist even tighter to his mouth, he eventually starts chuckling and shakes his head in frustration.
“You’re still alive…” he repeats, shaking his head more as his anger comes back. “We’ll see about that” he growls and restarts the car engine, determined to tear Connor a new one for doing all this to him. “Scared the hell outta me, you just wait til I see your ass again” he goes on, shaking his head. He can still feel the wild buzz of panic and desperation seep all over his body, lingering despite the previous moment of sheer relief. Hank reaches for the radio, finally finding it appropriate again to listen to his music. He yanks the volume up as far as it can go, death metal soon roaring out of his speakers, voicing all of his worries and thoughts. He’s no longer speeding, appreciating that he has 30 minutes to calm down and sober up for whatever is next.
Riverside Park
PM 11:38
Everything looks almost exactly the same as two nights ago. Ambassador Bridge is still a sight for sore eyes, heavily illuminated. Unlike Detroit, Windsor is facing no power outages on the other side of the river. For a moment, Hank stays inside his car and lets everything sink in. The familiar sight of it all. He’s spent so many nights drinking here. Sitting in the exact same spot.
A spot occupied by someone else right now.
Eventually, Hank does exit the car. He tries to walk slowly at first. However, after a few drunken and clumsy steps, he can’t take the pace anymore. He needs to jog towards the android. The first thing he notices about Connor, apart from his obvious aliveness, is the fact that he’s wearing his uniform again. He doesn’t understand how he got it so fast and why they couldn’t meet at home if he went there, but the truth is that it doesn’t matter right now. All that matters is that he’s alive, has reached out to him.
“Connor?” Hank asks and he’s angry with himself for sounding so worried. He’s spent the past five minutes trying to work himself up for a big speech, yelling at the android for nearly giving him a freaking heart attack with that explosion. When he sees his goofy face light up with a smile though, that anger vanishes right away. The Lieutenant lets out a surprised huff when the android jumps up from the bench and flings himself at him into a sudden hug.
“Woah, hey, easy there” Hank huffs out, frowning because he’s noticed something unusual.
#313 248 317 -60
Even though it has been such a short glimpse of the number, he’s still seen it. After all, he’s been trained to soak up all the information he can get in a matter of seconds, memorize details for his job. Correction. Ex-job. Although he feels relieved to be able to hold the android in his arms, hold on even tighter, he can‘t fight the dread that suddenly starts to creep up his spine. Connor is no longer wearing his clothes. Connor has a different serial number. Every time he’s turned up like this, he’s died the day before.
I managed to escape Jericho. I’m alive.
Connor just holds on to him, almost clinging to a point where it gets uncomfortable.
“What the hell happened back there? Jesus, you scared the crap outta me kid! I thought you…”
He forces Connor to let go so he can take a look at him. Now that they’re no longer pressed against each other, he has the chance to double check. And fair enough, the serial is there. -60.
“Why the hell are you wearing this uniform again? What happened to my clothes?”
Connor looks at him for a while. There’s the little things that Hank immediately notices about him. His eyes are different. Look deader and more machine like again. No matter how ridiculous it sounds. “You died, didn’t you” the lieutenant says, sadness creeping over his face as he reaches up to place a hand on Connor’s shoulder. Pat it once, then squeeze, then hold on. Connor nods.
“Markus made the decision to blow up Jericho before the army arrived. To use it as diversion while the androids escaped. I volunteered to detonate the bomb.”
“Jesus Christ, Connor” Hank says, pulling the android back into a hug. He is ashamed and angry with himself for feeling grief and hurt despite the fact that he’s holding Connor. A version of Connor. But in a way, he’s still mourning the one he’s just lost. The one that has first deviated for him. Then he suddenly realizes something else.
“Hold on, how does that work though,…are you still deviant?” he asks, letting go of the android again to eye him head to toe with a frown. Connor frowns a little, too.
“Obviously.”
“Well thank fuck for that” Hank says, letting out a relieved but nervous chuckle. Connor doesn’t smile or replicate the relief. He just stands there, looking at him. Head tilted a little. Looking way too much like the first time they have met back at Jimmy’s.
Hank’s phone buzzes.
After a beat of awkward silence, the Lieutenant presses on.
“So what now? What do we do? Where’s Markus?”
The phone buzzes again.
And again.
“What the hell is it now” he growls angrily as he reaches for his phone. “Hold on a sec” he tells the android, turning around with a frown to be able to check what the fuss is about.
25 missed calls
5 New Messages
>>Select to read<<<
25 missed calls from >Connor<
Received on 11/11/2038, 10:54pm
Received on 11/11/2038, 10:54pm
Received on 11/11/2038, 10:55pm
Received on 11/11/2038, 10:55pm
Received on 11/11/2038, 10:55pm
Received on 11/11/2038, 10:57pm
Received on 11/11/2038, 10:58pm
Received on 11/11/2038, 10:59pm
Received on 11/11/2038, 11:00pm
Received on 11/11/2038, 11:05pm
Received on 11/11/2038, 11:10pm
Received on 11/11/2038, 11:10pm
Received on 11/11/2038, 11:11pm
Received on 11/11/2038, 11:11pm
Received on 11/11/2038, 11:11pm
Received on 11/11/2038, 11:25pm
Received on 11/11/2038, 11:25pm
Received on 11/11/2038, 11:26pm
Received on 11/11/2038, 11:30pm
Received on 11/11/2038, 11:31pm
Received on 11/11/2038, 11:35pm
Received on 11/11/2038, 11:36pm
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Received on 11/11/2038, 11:39pm
Hank stills, eyes shifting up to glance at the digitial clock on his phone.
11:40pm
He won’t dare turn around. Instead, he swipes to the left to access his messages.
Received on 11/11/2038, 11:01pm
Connor:
Lieutenant, I convinced Markus and all of the deviants to leave Jericho in time. Do not worry about the bombs.
We were no longer aboard when we detonated them. I’m alive. Please pick up the phone.
Received on 11/11/2038, 11:10pm
Connor:
Hank, none of my calls are coming through. Are you okay?
Please pick up the phone or call me as soon as you get this message.
Received on 11/11/2038, 11:11pm
Connor:
Please pick up the phone.
Received on 11/11/2038, 11:25pm
Connor:
I'm currently at your house but you are not here. Where are you, lieutenant?
Are you okay? Are you in danger? Please call me. I’m worried about you.
I'll be waiting for you to get home.
Received on 11/11/2038, 11:36pm
Connor:
I was forced to leave your house earlier than anticipated. Please let me know where you are, lieutenant.
Pick up the phone or call me. It's urgent. I'm still alive. Please let me know you are, too.
Hank hears the click of the safety of a gun behind him and lets out a scoff. He’s not surprised.
“Call him and get me the location of the deviant leader.”
Hank clicks his tongue and starts chuckling to himself in frustration.
Of course.
When he turns around to face the android holding him at gunpoint, all he can grant him is a little sneer.
“So how’d you do it?” he asks, eyeing the machine head to toe. It sickens him that he looks exactly like Connor. “Hack his instant messenger to get me here? Blocked all his calls until now?”
Of course it’s technology letting him down again. His reliance on it. His thinking it to be fail proof. Android calling and messaging systems are supposed to be hardwired to their unique serial number and model. Connor, being a prototype series, naturally has to differ from the norm. Because Connor isn’t tied to a single body.
“All RK800 models are equipped with specialized cloud memory. All I had to do was upload all of the destroyed model’s memories to my own. Including contact data.”
Connor -60 is aiming the gun at him again, right at his heart.
“Now call your android and get me the location of the deviant leader. My mission is to find and neutralize it and I always accomplish my mission.”
Hank keeps looking at the android, refusing to consider it a version of his Connor although it looks exactly like him. Has his voice. Is using some of the exact same words. It is incredibly eerie and almost scary to see what Connor is really capable of, what he can look like given different choices and developments. He has the same brown eyes. But these ones look absolutely cold. Dead. Lack empathy and gentle kindness.
“And what if I don’t, huh? You gonna shoot me, Connor?”
“I only do what is strictly necessary to accomplish my mission. It’s up to you whether that includes shooting you.”
Jesus. He can’t say he’s missed the machine talk. Hank still has the phone in his hand, but refuses to make the call or take it when his Connor calls again. Instead, he tries to approach -60 slowly and carefully.
“I know you. And you know me. You’re not gonna shoot me. You uploaded all this information. So you know that I’m the reason you deviated. Or a version of you or whatever the hell you are. You can do it again, Connor. I know you got it in you. You don’t have to do this. You have a choice.”
He’s inching closer and closer, but Connor -60 won’t shift in the slightest. He won’t even blink, gun trained on him. After a moment, he raises an eyebrow at him.
“Nice try, Lieutenant. But I’m not a deviant. Now answer the phone.”
Hank stops walking and just stares at -60. After a little pause, he eventually shakes his head and straightens his posture.
“Sorry, Connor. Can't let you do that. I won’t answer it.”
A bullet suddenly rips through Hank’s right shoulder, causing him to shout in agony. He drops the phone and Connor immediately dives for it, getting hold of it before the other gets the chance to try and wrestle with him. “You son of a bitch!” the older of the two is yelling, trying to swing a punch. But he’s in too much agony and quickly going into shock from the suddenness of the shot. He backs off a bit when Connor aims the gun at him again, all the while using his phone to call the older model of himself. And then the biggest difference between this one and his Connor happens. -60 puts the phone on speaker. Makes him listen. Even Hank knows that there is no reason for the android to do this. It has zero benefit to his mission. He’s doing it to mock them.
With the phone on speaker, -60 moves towards Hank and wrestles him into submission by adding extra pressure to his gunshot wound. He clamps his machine hand over his mouth next, successfully shutting him up. Despite the pain he’s in, Hank still struggles violently against the android, biting and nearly breaking all of his teeth in the process. He executes every little thing he has learned during his police training, but Connor -60 dodges all of his counterattacks effortlessly, making it all the more obvious that he is vastly superior as machine. Hank has to painfully learn the true reason for Connor’s goofy look now. It’s to hide the fact how much of a killing machine he really is, to make it easier for him to lure unsuspecting victims in for the deadly strike. No one would ever expect an attack like that from someone looking as harmless as him.
And then his Connor suddenly answers the phone. Makes all the differences even more obvious. Hank has no idea how he could’ve viewed his android as stoic and machine like before. Compared to -60 just his voice alone is the epitome of emotion and life.
“Hank! Are you okay? I was worried about you! Where are you?”
“Only god fucking knows where I am, I have no idea. Where the hell are you? I couldn’t get a signal anywhere! Are you all right, son?”
The Lieutenant’s eyes widen when he hears his own voice coming from the android’s mouth. Now he gets why he’s being held in a death grip. It’s to shut him up. He immediately starts putting up more of a fight, trying to get the word out to his Connor, to let him know that this is not him, that this is a trap.
“I’m okay. Markus and the deviants are, too.”
“Jesus, you scared the crap outta me with that bomb. Now where the hell are you exactly? Is Markus with you right now? I want to see you.”
A shiver runs down Hank’s spine when he hears those words. It’s almost exactly what he would say. He manages to kick Connor -60 multiple times. In the knee. The shin. Even between his legs. But the android won’t budge. After all, he doesn’t feel pain. From the corner of his eye, he believes to see only the faintest smile on the other’s face. And it sickens him even more. The android seems to take pride in leading his deviant counterpart on. Preying on his weakness. Cyberlife knows that Connor has deviated. They know that he has deviated because of him. Their friendship. And they’ve sent this android to use it against the both of them. To get Markus and end the revolution.
Then Connor -54 says something that surprises both Hank and -60.
“You were right, Hank. They deserve a chance. They deserve to fight for their rights and what’s just. I’m going to help the revolution. I’m on my way to Cyberlife right now. You should leave Detroit for a while. The president has just issued a curfew. An evacuation order will follow soon. I took the liberty and packed some of your things while I waited for your call back at your home. Get out of the city. I will reach out to you when all of this is over.”
“Wait! What do you mean you’re on your way to Cyberlife?! What the hell are you gonna do, Connor?”
For a moment, Hank is glad that the RK800 is so good at imitating and faking emotions and voices. Because that’s exactly what he wants to know and would’ve asked if only that goddamn hand got off of his mouth.
“Cyberlife has thousands of androids stored in their storage facility. I’m going to free them and shift the balance of power in the city.”
Despite his dire circumstances, the fact that he’s bleeding, in agony, and held hostage by a maniac android, Hank can’t help but grin when he hears this. Immense pride floods him almost immediately. That’s his boy. Doing what’s right. Not this fucked up shit he finds himself in right now. He feels -60’s grip around him tighten. It only makes him grin more.
“Just….try not to get yourself killed, all right?”
Hank kicks the android for this, knowing what it’s suggesting.
“I will, Hank. Everything’s going to be okay.”
“All right then. I’m outta here. See yah, Connor.”
Before -54 can say something, -60 hangs up and lets go of Hank at the same time, causing him to stumble and fall to the ground, dripping some bright red blood on the snow. It’s not much and he knows that the son of a bitch has aimed for some place that won't have him in critical condition. The shot has been a lesson. A means to an end. Not a crippling kill shot.
“That was one shitty imitation. They really fucked up with you” Hank says from the ground, wincing at the pain in his shoulder when he laughs a little. He manages to regain his posture, even though it looks rather clumsy, given his injury and the fact that he’s still drunk. But it’s the drunkenness that helps numb it all down. Hank stands up and he now stands with pride and honor. “I would’ve told him that I’m proud of his decision. Proud that he’s joining his people. Join who's right. Unlike you” by now, his voice is full of disgust, even though it pains him. After all, it’s still an android. Mind controlled, just executing a program. Looking like Connor. But then again, Connor has never shot a human. Never would. After a moment of gathering himself and considering all of his options, Hank decides to be brave, too. He knows that this Connor is now going to head back to Cyberlife. To destroy his counterpart, complete his mission. He won’t let that happen. Connor has chosen to fight back and be a hero. And so has he.
Hank lurches forward and runs into the android with a loud roar as he tries to shove him over the railing that separates the park from Detroit River. He knows that he’s not going to win this or get out of this alive, considering how much stronger and faster the android is. He lands a few hard punches regardless, even dodges a few before getting hits in. Always aimed at his injured shoulder, causing him to see stars from the immense pain.
Heck, he has wanted to die tonight anyway.
Dying this way, to save Connor some time and help the revolution, is a more heroic way to go out than simply putting a bullet to his head after all.
He runs at the android again, rams his entire body weight into him, but all he can manage is to slam him into the railing instead of into the river. The android starts ramming his steel elbow into Hank’s back now, trying to force him to let go, but the lieutenant holds on to the android for all it’s worth. A sudden hit to the side of his neck takes him by surprise and everything goes black. He passes out from the blow, way sooner than he has anticipated, hoping he’s bought his partner enough time.