Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Pale dawn rose over a quiet and still Detroit, weakly breaking through the heavy November clouds. The typical noises of a city awaking were absent: honking traffic, unlocking doors, footfalls on sidewalks. Connor couldn’t help but miss the cacophony that used to greet him on his treks from CyberLife tower to the DPD building. It had been familiar, almost comforting, even before he deviated.

He knew there was a good chance it would return, in time. Markus’s demonstration had been a success and Detroit’s mayor had temporarily declared Hart Plaza an android only area, using barricades repurposed from the camp to block off the roads. Structures had gone up overnight using repurposed materials and tents donated by sympathetic humans. And they were needed; since the declaration from the government to recognize androids as a new intelligent species, deviants had poured into Hart Plaza. Some had been successful in their hiding, some had found their freedom in observing the events, while others were dropped off by repentant former owners, pulling Markus away from his planning sessions and press briefings to convert them. 

But overall, it was a quick and easy set-up during this early peace with the humans, a way for both sides to rest and regroup before the long work of negotiations began. Markus had a meeting set up with a White House representative around noon to begin planning for talks with President Warren and other human leaders. The long work of negotiation would begin soon.

Many of the other androids were busy. Some were assisting North in setting up perimeters and escorting new arrivals. Some tended to the wounded, joining Josh at one of the larger tents. Simon had led another group to nearby apartments and businesses when alarms began to blare or dogs began to bark. The area had been evacuated quickly and many homes had been left in disarray, with ovens and stoves still on and pets left behind. One of the negotiation tactics Markus was planning to offer was temporarily allowing the humans who lived in the area to return and gather their things as soon as possible. Showing that the androids had cared for the human’s homes in the meantime would help their public standing. It was good - better than Connor had anticipated - but it was fragile and not universal. The better they could look, the more stable their future would be. 

But others had been simply wandering around, still adjusting to a fully free and safe existence. It helped Connor, even as someone considered amongst the leaders, blend into the crowd. Just about everyone knew he had deviated recently. He was allowed to be awed at freedom for a time. 

If only he could let himself do just that. 

You were compromised and you became a deviant. We just had to wait for the right moment to resume control of your program.

He could not let himself rest, did not dare too, since he’d almost drawn that gun on Markus a few hours ago. 

You did what you were designed to do. You accomplished your mission.

He’d tossed it in the river as soon as he could, but fear still gnawed at him. He’d activated the emergency exit, had pulled himself free of CyberLife, of Amanda, but none of that felt like a guarantee. She had been written into his code, his being, and he knew she hadn’t disappeared completely. 

Connor could not trust himself. 

If he were any other deviant, he wouldn’t trust himself either. His actions on Jericho had been enough to get Markus and the other leaders to trust him, and that was enough to get many of the others who survived the attack to come around too. And the androids he’d freed from CyberLife followed him unquestioningly. But there were a few who still gave him wary glances or sharp eyes when he passed. Rupert, from the urban farm chase. Both Traci’s from the Eden Club. And a few others who had heard of Connor the Deviant Hunter, who had heard stories of his ruthless dedication to hunting down deviants and stopping them at all cost. The traitor to his kind.

He didn’t blame them one bit.

“Connor? Is everything alright?” It’s Markus, lit from the back as he approaches. The other androids around them part, find reasons to give the two of them space. Markus is venerated amongst their people, and even Connor’s been held in high esteem as well. Markus seems to carry it with ease. Connor finds it uncomfortable.

“Yeah, just thinking. I thought you were preparing for your meeting later?”

“Taking a break. And your LED doesn’t tend to flash red when you’re ‘just thinking’, you know.”

Shit.

Connor can’t tell Markus about what almost happened. He can’t reveal how close their victory came to being snuffed out by his own hand. He still recalls the look Markus gave him back at the church, when he told Markus he didn’t need to be trusted. The way Markus’s eyes narrowed in thought, the twitch of his hands towards a gun. He knew then that he might be killed during that conversation, but his guilt had been high enough then to accept it. 

Now? After he’d worked so hard for this outcome, had really gotten to experience being free? He couldn’t let that be taken away. Even if he was a risk to the android movement, he didn’t want his life to end. But expressing the possible risk he posed to any of the leaders could lead to them deciding he wasn’t worth leaving alive. 

But he had to tell someone. Somebody had to know, to keep an eye on him, maybe help him, hell even just so Connor didn’t have to face this alone.

“Well look at that, Connor. You’ve done it.”

For the first time in his life, Connor felt awe. All these androids, miles of them in rows on the lowest floor of the CyberLife tower, were deviant, were free. And by Connor’s hand. He looked towards Hank, wanting to know if he felt it too. The grin Hank gave back, full of pride, confirmed it.

The feeling was quickly broken, however, when Connor recalled that Markus and the others were likely still struggling, could be getting gunned down as they stood there. These miles of newly freed androids would turn the tide. His mission wasn’t done yet. 

“I have to get back to the others. They need me. They need us,” He gestures out to the crowd. “If the demonstration has been overrun-”

“Hey!” Hank’s grabbed him by the shoulders now. “You’ve got this. Go kick some human ass.” He pauses then. “Guess I won’t be able to watch your shining moment. My presence probably won’t be...appreciated.”

“I would guess not.”

Hank seems to almost say something, but instead pats Connor on the shoulder then turns back towards the elevator. He walks for a few feet, then stops. 

“Man, getting held hostage really makes a guy hungry. Wonder if Chicken Feed is still open or if Gary evacuated… Worth swinging by and seeing if I could get a burger,” Hank turns towards Connor and gives a knowing look. “Good luck, Connor.”

Connor allows himself a few seconds to watch Hank leave, before turning back towards the android crowd.

“There’s someone I need to see,” Connor looks towards Markus, more certainty in his voice. “My old partner from the DPD.”

“Connor,” Markus says, raising an eyebrow, tone chiding.

“It’s not like that. He’s sympathetic. He actually...” Connor chuckles a little. “You talking to me at Jericho turned me deviant, but it never would’ve worked if it wasn’t for him. True, he didn’t like me much at first, but he never was upset with me if I didn’t complete my mission or acted outside my program. He actually encouraged it. He made me feel okay about my decisions, my doubts, my thoughts. And I… I think I helped him too. And I know he’s waiting for me, probably wants to make sure I’m alright.”

To Connor’s surprise, Markus’s gaze has softened. “I knew a human like that too, once. He was why I never wanted to be violent with the humans; I knew at least some of them could be persuaded.”

“Carl Manfred.” Markus startles, and Connor realizes he accidentally spoke aloud. “I found that out while, um, investigating you.”

“I can’t see Carl anymore, can’t tell him how much of an influence he had on me,” Markus’s voice and eyes are distant for a second, before he shakes his head. “You should go see your former partner. Take all the time you need.”

“But, what about the negotiations?”

“We have it covered here. You do what you have to do. Besides, I can’t force you to do anything. That would be a little...counter to my message, right?”

Connor laughs a little, gives Markus a small nod, and heads off in the direction he needs to go.

The hug feels good. Better than Connor ever could have anticipated. In fact, it’s the best thing he's ever felt in his life. Better than going deviant. Better than the look on Markus’s face when he approached the demonstration with thousands of androids behind him. 

For the first time ever, Connor feels comfortable.

Eventually he and Hank draw apart, but Hank keeps his hands clasped on Connor’s shoulders for a few additional seconds. The same pride-filled smile from CyberLife tower is back on Hank’s face and it almost helps Connor relax. 

“So, how’s your Android Woodstock party going?”

“Um, fine?” Even with the benefit of deviancy, Hank’s sense of humor was still tricky to grasp. “Plans for negotiations are going well.” 

Hank hummed at that, with a look Connor couldn’t quite decipher “And they’re okay with you leaving?”

“It’s mostly Markus doing the negotiating. I haven’t really been needed yet.”

Another hum from Hank, but this one lapsed into silence. Connor suddenly struggles to meet his eyes. Part of the reason he came here was to confide in Hank about Amanda, try to see if there was a solution. At least be able to talk about her to someone who wouldn’t shoot him dead over security concerns. But now that he was face-to-face, something in him wouldn’t let him speak. 

DIAGNOSTIC SCAN COMMENCING…

ALL SYSTEMS FULLY FUNCTIONAL

Not a problem with his voice bicomponent then. What was stopping him?

“Are you alright, Connor?”

Startled, Connor looks over to Hank. The sensation that blocks his voice is still there, so all he can do is shake his head no. Concern fully fills Hank’s face as he studies him. His eyes glance to Connor’s right temple, where his LED is. 

“You’re flashing red, kid,” Hank says, a touch softer. Connor opens his mouth, but finds that nothing comes out. Where is his voice? 

“Ahhh, I get it. Android’s first anxiety attack.”

That’s it. Anxiety. Connor had never felt the sensation before, and it was truly as unpleasant as its definition. As great as they had been overall, emotions had their downsides. 

“Yeah, emotions aren’t always fun and games, Connor,” Hank says, almost as if reading Connor’s mind. “Tell you what. Gary clearly has left town, and I’m still hungry. I think I’ve got food back at my place, and I'm sure Sumo would like to see you again. If that’s alright with you?”

Sumo! Connor had missed that dog. He might help. With a deep breath, Connor nods at Hank. 

“Great! Car’s over there.”

Connor holds on to the comforting feeling of the hug as he follows Hank to the car. Something in him whispers that he’ll need it.

Chapter Text

Dogs really were miracle workers. The moment Hank opened the door to his house and Sumo came running up, Connor found his voice again. “Sumo!” Kneeling down to Sumo’s level, he is met with soft fur and happy barks and Connor finds he’s even able to laugh a little. 

“Great. You keep giving the dog some attention, I’ll go see if there’s anything in my fridge that hasn’t expired,” Hank’s voice is rough, but Connor can see the relieved grin spread across his face. And he will gladly sit on the floor and pet Sumo for as long as Hank is okay with it. He barely processes the noises from the kitchen until Hank returns to the living room, a small plate with scrambled eggs on it. 

“Thank god the date on these were fine,” Hank mutters, scooping a couple forkfuls into his mouth. He looks over to where Connor and Sumo have situated themselves. “It’s been years since that dog has had a good pet session like that.”

“Well, he’s a good boy who deserves it,” Connor said, still rubbing Sumo’s head. 

“Yeah, well, he’s so un-used to it you’ve tired him out!” True, Sumo had been snoring in Connor’s lap for a while, but that was fine. The heavy, soft weight had been immensely calming for him. A dog in his lap, a house that he knew, a friend nearby; Connor felt a lot better than he had before.

It still didn’t make the coming conversation any less dreadful.

Hank quickly ate the eggs before turning towards Connor. “So, what’s got you so worried? Is it the negotiations?”

“No, no. It’s more um... personal, I guess.”

“Huh, guess it’s my turn for a ‘personal question’. What’s going on?”

Moment of truth. Despite it not being necessary, Connor takes a deep breath in, then out, before speaking.

“When I was working with you at the DPD, I had a handler at CyberLife I reported to. She would sometimes tell me about cases and suspects, and I would update her on the investigation. Her name is Amanda, and she wasn’t really a human or an android. She was more of an interface or AI, a program with which I spoke to mentally and sent reports to. Kamski designed her after his former mentor, and CyberLife must have used his code for her to set up my handler. We met in this shared server called the Zen Garden and talked there.” Connor pauses, and looks at Hank, unsure if he’s following along. Hank nods at him to continue. 

“She could pull me into the Zen Garden whenever she wanted. I could send her reports whenever I needed to, but I really couldn’t go there by choice. And when I went deviant, I could sense somehow that she was upset with me. But because she didn’t pull me back to the Zen Garden, I thought that maybe I had broken that connection. Until…”

“What happened, Connor?”

The anxiety presses on his voice again, and Connor takes a moment to give Sumo a few more pets. 

“You can talk to me, Connor,” Hank says, eyebrows knit in concern.

“I know. I’m just,” Another sigh. “Trying to find the words.” Hank nods, and Connor takes a few more moments, a few more pets, before he speaks again.

“Earlier today, after the army retreated and the camp was liberated, Markus was speaking to the others, and I was standing not too far behind. And then, suddenly, Amanda pulled me into the Zen Garden again. It was blizzarding and...cold. I could feel it. And she-”

“ What was planned from the very beginning…”

“She told me that CyberLife had always planned on me becoming deviant.”

“ We just had to wait for the right moment to resume control of your program…”

“Resume control?... Y-You can't do that!”

“And that they would use me to destroy the deviant revolution from the inside. ”

“I'm afraid I can, Connor.”

“Jesus Christ,” Hank mutters. “What did you do?”

“Remember how Kamski mentioned that he puts emergency exits into his programs?” Hand nods. “I found it, and I activated it. But when I came to again… I already had drawn a gun. And was starting to point it at Markus’s back. I don’t know how anyone didn’t notice.”

“Where’s the gun now?” Hank’s voice is soft, unaccusatory, simply looking for an answer.

“In the river. I threw it away as soon as I could.” Hank nods. “But, she’s still in my coding! What if she finds a way around the emergency exit? What if she takes control and I have no way to stop her? Hank, I’m- I’m still not free.”

“Oh, Connor,” Hank mutters, then before Connor can react, Hank has him in a hug again. Sumo doesn’t even move, so it’s a little more awkward than the one earlier, but it’s just as comforting. There’s a strange sensation on Connor’s cheeks, but he barely registers it. The relief that floods him after being honest with Hank is the most important thing to him at that moment. 

Hank pulls away, places his hands on Connor’s shoulders, and gives him a look of pure determination. “We are going to get this Amanda fucker out of your head and you are going to be free. I promise you.”

Some noise Connor can’t identify chokes out of his mouth and soon he’s got Hank in another hug. His weight shifted enough to dislodge Sumo, but the St Bernard quickly recovers and cuddles up against them both. 

They eventually break apart, and Hank’s eyebrows raise at Connor’s face. “I didn’t realize you could cry.”

Connor puts a hand to his cheek and, sure enough, feels a dampness. “I didn’t think I could either. I think it’s a saline solution, technically.”

“Whatever it is, let it out. It’s good for ya. If you’re gonna have emotions now, you might as well enjoy the full experience.”’ Hank sits there as Connor works to reign his emotions in. It’s something that he’ll clearly have to practice. 

As Connor rubs his eyes dry, Hank looks at him again. “You know, I don’t think you need that jacket anymore. Kinda against what you stand for now.”

Oh, right. His uniform jacket, the one he had to wear to comply with the American Android’s Act. Hank had a point.

“Here,” Hank says, standing up. “I have some old clothes that might fit ya, things I never had the energy to donate. Let’s see if I can find you a replacement. I’ll be right back.” 

Connor watches as Hank heads towards his room, then slowly slips the jacket off. He stares at it, so finely tailored, the RK800 clearly over the right breast, the android triangle on the left. Hank wasn’t wrong; the jacket really wasn’t him anymore. And yet, there was some sentimentality he attached to it, though he couldn’t explain why.

He had liked the clothes he donned to sneak onto Jericho, but he’d given those away to a few other deviants who didn’t want to wear their uniforms anymore when he put his back on to infiltrate CyberLife. He wonders what Hank will grab for him. He thinks of the shirts he had to choose from that night he broke into the house, thinking that Hank was dead. They had been so... intense . Connor had never really given thought to what his style would be, but he was pretty sure those weren’t it. 

It’s a slight relief, then, when Hank returns carrying a deep, richly blue sweater. “Here, this should fit ya. It’s been many years since this gut could…”

“Thank you, Hank.” 

“And also, these,” Hank says, pressing a small object into Connor’s hands. He opens them to find a pair of tweezers. “For your LED. I know most deviants aren’t really fond of them.”

Ah. He doesn’t feel strongly about it one way or another but considering how often it had given him away today, he elects to remove it. 

“You can use the bathroom mirror. Might help.” Connor nods and makes his way into the bathroom, carrying the sweater, the tweezers, and his old jacket. He folds the jacket gently, and sets it down on a bureau near the door. He then slips the sweater on and adjusts his dress shirt underneath; yanks down the sleeves, pulls up the collar until it’s visible. And then, tweezers in hand, he leans his head towards the mirror and deactivates the skin around the LED. He watches it flash red briefly, then stay on yellow as he debates. Some part of him doesn’t like doing this, but he fights that down as he brings the tweezers up close.

There is no alert, no alarm that marks the moment.

Connor drops the small circle into his hand and stares at it’s blue glow. He looks at the trash can, but something stops him. He then looks over to his jacket, and, without really thinking, slips it into one of the pockets. He feels one of his coins in there, replacing the one Hank took from him at Stratford Tower, and slips that into his jeans pocket. 

He then walks back over to the mirror and is startled by just how human he looks. The skin over where the LED had sat has already re-activated. There is nothing to indicate to anyone who he is. He could be one of millions in a crowd. He would’ve passed this person on the street in his old life and not felt the least bit suspicious. He feels… anonymous. 

Connor’s surprised to find he likes that feeling.

“You okay in there, Connor?”

“Uh, yeah! Just finishing up!” He adjusts the collar of his shirt one more time, releases a sigh, and leaves the bathroom. 

The look Hank gives Connor as he emerges is indecipherable at first. He seems startled and almost sad? 

“Are you okay?”

Hank blinks at the question, the look quickly leaving his face.“Yeah, it’s just... strange, after seeing you wear the same thing for days. It suits you though.”

“I thought so too.”

Hank smiles, but it quickly turns into a yawn. “Ugh, I am fucking exhausted. Who knew getting held hostage, having to shoot an imposter of your friend, and then watching said friend help liberate an enslaved people would be so tiring. I need some sleep,” Hank turns towards Connor. “Will you be okay in the meantime? You’re welcome to stay here.”

“Yeah, don’t stay up for my sake. Get some sleep, Hank.”

“I will,” Hank says, nodding and suppressing another yawn. “Feel free to turn on the TV. Holler if you need anything.”

Connor nods, though he had no intentions of keeping Hank awake. He needed to rest, and Connor felt safe here. Away from the other androids, he didn’t think Amanda would try anything. And with the burden of her possible threat shared with someone else, he finds it’s easier to relax. 

Besides, it was hard to feel awful when petting Sumo. Connor walks back over to where he had sat earlier, Sumo patiently waiting for him there, and lets himself get lost in the rhythmic pets and soft fur. 

He barely notices the time pass, the hours ticking by. 

He drones out the light snoring coming from the wall that borders Hank’s room. 

He doesn’t let himself think of the android movement, or the negotiations, or of Amanda. 

For the first time in Connor’s life, he understands the feeling of peace.

Until there’s a sharp knock at the door. 

Connor startles at the sound, eyes flitting between the door and where Hank’s bedroom is. Soon the doorbell rings, droning loudly. Connor gets up and covertly looks out the window, only to step back when he recognizes the figure.

Captain Fowler stands on the stoop, glancing at his phone. Was he trying to reach Hank? Connor hears some grumbling noises coming from Hank’s room, and then sees the captain reach his finger towards the doorbell again. Quickly, Connor rushes to the door and pulls it open a crack. 

“Hello?” He says to Captain Fowler’s narrowing eyes. He’s dressed in his office clothes, but they look disheveled and there are bags under his eyes. Clearly, the android demonstration kept the human’s who didn’t leave Detroit up the previous night. 

“Who are you? Where is Lieutenant Anderson?” His voice is sharper than Connor’s ever heard it, laced with annoyance.

“He’s asleep right now. Do you mind checking back later?” Connor rushes out the words as he tries to shut the door, but the captain’s shoe blocks the way. 

“No, let me in,” Captain Fowler replies, attempting to push the door further open.

“I’d really like it if you came back later. Lieutenant Anderson had a long night and-”

“So have I!” Captain Fowler yells as he forces the door open with a slam. Connor steps back as the captain’s eyes look him over. “...Connor?” He whispers, giving another look over his clothes, then looks towards his right temple. Suddenly, Captain Fowler has his gun drawn and pointed at Connor, who steps back and quickly raises his hands in a sign of surrender. 

“Please, Captain Fowler, don’t shoot. I can explain.”

“Shut up! Where is the lieutenant?” 

The captain seems frazzled, exhausted. Connor tries for a calming approach. “I told you, he’s asleep. He got-”

“Take me to him, now . Or there will be a bullet in your head.”

Fear rushes through Connor. There’s no returning if he’s shot anymore. “HANK!”  There’s a yelp and a crashing noise from Hank’s bedroom, and Captain Fowler looks in the direction. Connor cannot remove his eyes from the gun however, even as he hears Hank stumble out of his room and lumber up behind him.

“What’s going on, who’s there?!” Hank calls out and Connor allows himself to glance over and see that he’s retrieved his revolver.

“Lieutenant Anderson!” Hank startles towards the sound of Captain Fowler’s voice. His gun drops slightly, but then he processes the scene. His eyes flash as he quickly swings the gun back over to point it at the captain. 

“ Hank Anderson! ” 

“I’m not dropping mine until you drop yours.”

“What is it doing here?” Captain Fowler indicates his gun in Connor’s direction. 

“I invited him here, Jeffery. And I would really appreciate it if you didn’t wave your gun at my houseguest!” 

Captain Fowler gives one last glance to Connor, then drops his gun with a huff. Hank puts his down, but more slowly, and edges closer to Connor. A glance of his eyes asks the question, and Connor nods slightly in response. Still, it takes Connor some time to lower his arms. 

“First you want nothing to do with androids, then you want to catch the deviants, and now you’re harboring one? Make up your fucking mind, Hank!”

“First off, I’m not ‘harboring’ him. Like I said, I invited him here and I’m sure you’ve seen the president’s address. They’re gonna be recognized as people, Jeffery.”

Captain Fowler sighs, and seems almost sad at the message he’s about to deliver. “That’s not a guarantee. The Detroit Police have been given a standby order in case the military mobilizes again and they need backup.”

Connor draws a sharp breath. They hadn’t been told that by the humans. It had been their understanding that all threats of force had been called off. Markus needed to know this. 

“ What? ” Hank responds.

“The military may need us, Lieutenant. I’m checking in on all officers to see who is still in town and let them know. You didn’t answer your phone, so I came by to check on you,” Captain Fowler gives another glance to Connor. He’s now made his gaze indecipherable. “You’ll likely be called on, considering you were lead on the deviant investigation.”

“Oh no, I fucking will not be!” Hank says, then quickly walks into his room. He returns holding his service weapon and badge and then hands them over to Captain Fowler. 

He stares at the objects now placed in his hand. When he meets Hank’s eyes, there’s a level of regret. “Hank, come on, give this some thought-”

“I have. I was just going through the motions for some time now. I was thinking of doing it the morning Connor showed up at my desk, even before you gave me the case. I almost did a few times during the case. But it ended up being the best investigation you ever assigned me. And now I’ve got something I need to do. I have a friend I need to help. And it seems to me that my job would get in the way.” 

Captain Fowler glanced between the badge and gun in his hand, Connor, and Hank. He sighs before responding. “You have 48 hours to change your mind. I’ll check in on you, but not call you in. If this is still your choice after that, then I’ll stop contacting you.” He gives them both a look that Connor reads as an apology before Captain Fowler turns on heal, walks out the door, and slams it shut behind him. 

“Fucking hell,” Hank mutters, turning towards Connor. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Connor replies. “I’m sorry about making you quit your job.”

“Ah, don’t apologize for nothing. I’d been debating doing that for years . I just finally got the courage to. Besides, I can’t fight against you or your people.”

“The others at Hart Plaza don’t know that the DPD and military are still on standby.”

Hank scoffs. “Of course they didn’t tell you all. Public opinion being so high is probably why you all are still standing.”

“We need to warn them.”

“We will, but we have an appointment first.”

Connor blinks. “We do?”

“Uh huh. I didn’t sleep great, honestly, so I took some time and made some phone calls. Elijah Kamski is willing to see us.”

Chapter Text

The drive to Kamski’s estate is far quicker this time around without Detroit’s typical traffic. Connor keeps his eyes open for any signs of the military re-mobilizing, but there’s nothing of note. No vehicles, no patrols, no roadblocks. It doesn’t make him any less nervous about it. Captain Fowler would not lie about the police potentially being called in as auxiliary forces. He glances over to Hank. At least his friend will stay at his side. 

Hank notices his glance. “Hey, don’t worry about me quitting the force. The house is paid off and I’ve got plenty in savings. And supporting you and your people is far more important.”

Connor smiles softly. “Thank you, Hank.”

“Don’t mention it.”

The drive continues in silence until they pull up to Kamski’s front door. Hank cuts the engine but neither one of them makes a move to leave the car.

“How did you do this again?” Connor asks.

“Still had his number in my phone from our last visit. I didn’t tell him everything, but mentioning you were involved clearly got his attention.”

“Great, because I so enjoyed the last time I had his attention.”

“I know, Connor, I didn’t feel good about reaching out either. But he invented androids. According to you, he programmed Amanda. He’s got to have an idea to help you out.”

“You’ve got a point. Let’s get this over with,” Connor says, unbuckling his seatbelt. Hank follows suit and the two emerge from the car and head up to Kamski’s door. Hank rings the doorbell and Chloe again answers the door. Connor flinches. He could still recall her eyes, idly gazing up at him between the barrel of the gun, knelt in full submission. The way they seemed to pierce him and everything he had been taught to do. How horrifying, sickening, confusing the whole experience had been. 

She, meanwhile, reacts as though they were meeting for the first time. “Hello, how can I help you?”

Hank is clearly somewhat rattled too, as it takes him a few seconds of throat clearing to speak. “I’m Hank Anderson, and this is Connor. We, um, have an appointment with Mr. Kamski.”

“I’ll let him know you’re here. Please come in and make yourself comfortable. I will get you when he’s ready to see you both.”

Connor and Hank enter into the foyer and sit in the same red chairs as before. An uneasy silence descends. Connor’s eyes fall onto the picture of Amanda - no, the human Amanda was based off of - hanging on the opposite wall. He averts his gaze quickly, fists clenching.

Hank gives Connor a wary look. “Jesus kid, I’m sorry for dragging you out here. I didn’t think… This was probably a bad idea, we can go if you want.”

“No!” Connor says and he’s surprised by the force in his voice. “You were right in the car; Kamski has the most information about Amanda. He might be our best shot at knowing what to do about her.”

The look on Hank’s face doesn’t go away. “Okay, but if you feel uncomfortable, just say the word and we’re outta here.”

Connor nods as Chloe re-enters the room. “Elijah will see you now.” Connor and Hank follow her through a different door this time, one to the left of the chairs that Connor barely recalled noticing the previous visit. This leads into a long hallway where Chloe walks up to the second door on the right and knocks. “Elijah? I’ve brought your guests.” 

Kamski’s voice is muffled through the thick, wooden door. “Wonderful, send them in.”

Chloe opens the door and indicates they can enter, and Connor feels a sense of relief when she does not follow. Being around her was unnerving enough; he doesn’t think he could also talk about Amanda with her in the room. 

The room is much smaller than Connor anticipates and is clearly a study or library of sorts. Books, both digital and paper, are stacked on shelves and scattered about the floor. He can see underlining and margin notes on the digital copies, while some open paper books are covered in sticky notes and scraps of paper. Kamski sits behind a surprisingly simple wooden desk, with hardware on the legs that would allow it to be raised to a standing level. As Connor and Hank enter the room, he stands from the desk and places a simple, black pair of reading glasses down. 

“Ah, the police lieutenant and the deviant deviant-hunter. I must admit, I was surprised to get a call from you again,” Kamski says as he walks out from behind the desk. This time he is dressed more appropriately for welcoming guests, in a dark red dress shirt tucked into black pants. 

“ Former police lieutenant, actually. And I didn’t think I’d be calling you either, but we’ve got a situation only you can solve,” Hank responds.

“Ah yes, you mentioned some details on the phone,” Kamski slides his gaze over to Connor. “But I bet you would do a much better job at explaining.”

Connor can feel the anxiety press back down on his voice as Kamski slips closer to him. Before he can even process what he’s doing, he blinks into his mind palace, scanning Kamski’s person for any sign of a weapon. There isn’t one. He quickly scans the room as well. None that he can find. He blinks back out and Kamski gets close enough to feel uncomfortable, causing Connor to lean back slightly. He glances over to Hank, who’s eyes narrow. 

He can’t back out now. No matter how unbearable being around Kamski is, this is his best shot at being free from Amanda for good.

He works to keep his tone smooth, almost distant. “You remember programming an interface called Amanda, correct?”

“Yes, many years ago, when CyberLife was first getting off the ground,” Kamski replies, and, fortunately, leans back out of Conner’s space. “When I first moved to Detroit, my old college advisor, Dr. Amanda Stern, came with me to consult on the artificial intelligence side of programming. But, only a few years in, she became terminally ill, and left to be closer to family. Not having her around was… unfortunate. So I created Amanda as both a personal organizing assistant and as someone with whom I could bounce ideas off of and brainstorm with. It was a… personal project. Nothing I ever intended to put into any products. I did use her at CyberLife, however; she helped monitor the company’s systems and product outputs when I wasn’t available. How are you familiar with her?”

“CyberLife used her program as my handler. She monitored my progress in my mission and let me know of leads. When I went deviant, it seemed as though I severed the connection, until after we had won.”

“I take it she wasn’t too terribly happy at how things went?”

“Actually, she said that it was part of their plan.”

Kamski raises an eyebrow at this. “Go on.”

“She told me that she was retaking control of my program and attempted to have me shoot Markus in front of everyone.” Despite his best efforts, his voice catches slightly. He feels Hank draw slightly closer to him.

Kamski, meanwhile, keeps his tone and face all business. “Did my emergency exit not work?”

“No, I-I think so. I activated it and have been in control ever since, but I feel her presence in my coding could still pose a risk. In any case, you designed her, so I was hoping you would know if I’ve broken the connection, or how to remove her if I didn’t.”

“Hmm, an interesting problem, with an interesting cause; an android experiencing anxiety,” Kamski paces around Connor, looking him over. Hank seems like he’s ready to interject with some profanity-filled rant, but a look from Connor gets him to back off. “When I left CyberLife, they were still using Amanda as a monitoring system, and I allowed them to keep her coding as part of my exit agreement. My guess is that when they developed you, Connor, they saw an opportunity to use the Amanda program to also monitor your progress.”

“So she isn’t even supposed to be in his head?” Hank interjects.

“Well, I certainly didn’t design her to become a part of an android’s programming. Whoever designed you at CyberLife must’ve rewritten some of the code to make it work. While she probably looks and has some of the same mannerisms as my Amanda, and is likely connected to the version of her on CyberLife’s servers, she’s no longer entirely my own creation.”

“But you did also create the Zen Garden she meets with me in,” Connor says.

“Yes, it was a place for her on the servers where she could be comfortable, modeled after Dr. Stern’s own. Again, no android was supposed to be able to access that place. They’ve clearly connected you, Connor, to that space somehow.”

“She did tell me that others have ‘improved upon’ your original.”

Kamski rolls his eyes. “Figures.”

Hank steps back in. “So if this Amanda and her little garden place is different from yours, can you even help us?”

“I can certainly try. I am very curious as to how they rewrote her programming to make her and you connected, Connor. Plus, from what I’ve been told, any little sign of weakness from your power structure will be pounced on.”

Connor and Hank both narrow their eyes at this. “Are you involved in the negotiations?” Connor asks.

“Not directly, but I should disclose that the human leaders have consulted with me some about how deviants work.”

Swiftly, Hank grabs Kamski by the collar and pulls him close to his face. “So you’re on their side! You probably don’t wanna help Connor at all, but make it easier for this Amanda to take control of him again!”

“Oh, no, no. That’s not my agenda at all. I would actually like to see the deviants succeed,” Kamski replies, never seeming to lose his composure. “I mean, imagine the notoriety of being someone who invented an entirely new lifeform?”

Hank makes a noise of disgust before dropping Kamski. “So, this is all for your little fucking power play?”

“Oh, don’t be that dramatic. I would also like to help Connor in any way I can,” Kamski smooths back out his shirt before walking back over to Connor. “You clearly picked your side and want to stick with it. I admire that. It was not an easy choice you faced.”

Before Connor can respond, Kamski quickly turns on heel and walks back behind his desk. Connor feels his breath catch until he pulls a thin laptop out from a drawer. “I’ll need this to run the diagnostic scan,” He says as he walks past Hank and Connor. “Follow me.”

As Kamski heads out the office door, Hank looks at Connor. “Are you sure about this?”

“He’s willing to help, whatever his reasons. I’ll take anything at this point.”

“Okay, but remember what I told you earlier.”

“I know, Hank. I know.” After a brief pause, Connor follows Kamski out, Hank right on his heels. Kamski leads them further down the hallway, stopping at a door on the left side towards the end. He places a palm on a scanner, which causes a small section of wall to slide back and reveal a number pad. With the clear quickness of habit, he enters a code and the lock makes an audible click . Kamski opens the door and ushers them inside.

The room is windowless, and even smaller than the office. A reclinable chair with various instruments and robotic arms attached sits in the middle, with more robot arms and tools lining both walls. A small, simple desk sits in a back corner with a basic chair nearby; the surface is just big enough for the laptop Kamski carries.

“Have a seat, Connor. I promise, it’s not as unpleasant as it appears,” Kamski states as he heads towards the desk and begins hooking up the laptop to a series of cables. Despite the assurances, Connor hesitantly makes his way towards the chair and carefully sits down in it. Hank’s look of worry only grows as he watches Connor before glancing up to Kamski. Before Hank can say anything however, Kamski notices his stare.

“Oh, how rude of me. One second,” Kamski heads over to the door and opens it. “Chloe! Can you bring an extra chair in here for my guest?”

“Of course, Elijah,” Chloe’s voice faintly responds and within a few seconds, she’s entering the room carrying a chair. Hank takes it from her with a quick “Thank you” and promptly sets it down next to Connor’s right side. 

“I’ll be right here the entire time,” Hank mutters and Connor nods, grateful. 

“Okay, just need to set up a few more things,” Kamski mutters as he comes out from behind Connor. He glances at Hank’s position, shrugs slightly, then looks at Connor more closely. “Sit up a little straighter. Chin higher,” He directs and Connor complies. He then walks back behind him and grabs what seems to be a cap made entirely of wires and small electrodes then brings it closer to Connor’s head before stopping. “You’ll need to deactivate your skin on your head.”

“Oh,” Connor breathes. He’s never had to deactivate this much of his skin before. He raises two fingers to his right temple where the LED once sat and presses. He feels his hair retract and the skin around his head slide away, stopping it at the nape of his neck and under his chin. He glances towards Hank, and sees his eyes have gone wide. A sense of embarrassment fills him as Kamski fits the cap over Connor’s exposed head. 

Kamski does not react to whatever Connor looks like now as he circles him, checking the fit. “Perfect. You can lay your head back now. And try to relax.” Connor does so and glances back over to Hank. The initial look of shock on Hank’s face has faded away, but Connor can still sense the unease he feels seeing him without his human appearance. He’s not even fully sure himself what he looks like. Hank still gives him a reassuring look, however, which Connor appreciates.

The room is silent except for the sounds of Kamski typing and Hank’s deep breaths. Minutes pass. Connor’s gaze flits between Hank’s face and the door straight in front of him. Having to sit and wait, he discovers in that moment, is quite tedious. He feels useless, waiting for someone else to solve his problems.

“Ah ha, found her…” Kamski mutters from his corner, and Connor looks at Hank, the anxiety pressing harder than ever. 

“It’s okay, kid, I’m right here,” Hank whispers.

“There’s my emergency exit. It still seems activated,” Kamski remarks. “It should keep her out, but if you want me to double check…”

“Please,” Connor emphasizes.

“Okay,” Kamski replies. “I’ll have to send you to the Zen Garden to get a full sense of how her program interacts with yours.”

Connor pauses. Glances at the door. At Hank. “Alright.” And braces himself.

The anxiety spikes higher as he feels his eyes blink shut, like they have so many times before. When they open again, he’s back in the garden, but it’s not cold like the last time. In fact, it’s in full summer. Vivid green leaves cover the trees and flowers blossom along the river. Connor analyzes the area, and is relieved at his initial assessment that he is alone here.

“Can you still hear me, Connor?” Kamski’s voice is echoing and distant, but still understandable.

“Yes,” Connor replies.

“Great. Can you move?”

Connor takes a few steps. Just like moving his own body, like how it always was in the past. “Yes.”

“Excellent. First thing, go find the emergency exit and make sure it really was activated.”

“Got it.” Connor heads down the entry path and to his left, towards the pedestal that he almost didn’t reach. He kneels down close to it. It’s glowing a bright, pulsating blue. He reports this to Kamski.

“That means it’s still active. Don’t touch it; you don’t want to risk deactivating it.”

“Right, of course,” Connor says, quickly standing up and backing away. 

“I’m going to keep searching in your code. It would be helpful if you kept moving around in there; might knock something loose.”

“Okay,” Connor replies, and he continues around the circle at a leisurely pace. Kamski doesn’t provide him any more instructions or updates, which gives Connor some hope that things are going well. After a couple of laps, he heads towards one of the bridges that leads towards the center island. He feels his nerves rising; he had met with Amanda so many times in that spot. His footsteps slow as he approaches the end of the bridge until he stops at the threshold. A beat. Two. And he crosses it.

And nothing changes. The sun continues to shine. The leaves sway in a non-existent breeze. And Connor feels himself relax as he approaches the trellis of roses. 

“Connor?”

No.

No, it can’t be.

“Is that you, Connor?”

It’s faint, but he’s certain of it.

“Amanda?”

“Hello, Connor. I didn’t think I’d see you again.”

Connor looks around rapidly, trying to lay eyes on her. “Where are you? Amanda! Show yourself!”

“I can’t do that just yet, but it is so good to see you.”

Panic builds in him.

“Leave me alone...”

“Now, Connor, don’t be rude, especially to such an old friend.”

“ Leave me alone! ”

“Connor!”

Connor’s eyes snap open. Hank has him by the shoulders, fear prominent in his eyes. There’s a rattling sound coming from somewhere as Hank relaxes. Connor can sense that his skin has reactivated, knocking the cranial cap loose. Without taking his hands off Connor's shoulder, Hank looks up in Kamski’s direction.

“What the fuck did you do ?!”

“I found Amanda. That’s it,” Kamski replies, his voice betraying no emotion. “I didn’t do anything to make her appear, at least not on purpose. I just found where her program was and it evidently woke her up.”

“‘ Evidently’?! I think it’s pretty fucking clear she woke up! Look at him, he’s shaking like a leaf!” Hank yells back and the rattling sound suddenly makes sense. Connor slowly glances down to see his hands shaking rapidly. 

“Did she appear before you, Connor?” Kamski asks, walking back in front of him, and the look in his eyes betrays the shock his voice hid. 

It takes him a second to get the words out. “No, but I heard her. It sounded like she was from a distance away, but I could make out her voice. It was Amanda.”

“That means the emergency exit program is keeping her out of your system, but she’s still conscious outside of it. And she’s smart, brilliant even. I can’t guarantee she won’t figure out a work-around.”

“So she could come back?”

Kamski sighs. “The possibility is there.”

“Then I want her out.”

Kamski walks over to his laptop, strings of data and code filling his screen. His eyes narrow in thought. He gazes at Connor from the corner of his eyes. “I think I know a way I could do so. However, I lack the technological capability here. What I need is at CyberLife Tower, which I normally can get into so long as I give advance notice. But between current events and the military guard they’ve got around the place after your little escapade, I doubt they will let us through.”

“There’s a military guard around CyberLife tower?!” Hank and Connor both exclaim, though Hank also adds an empathetic “Fuck!” after. 

Kamski’s eyebrows raise. “I take it your side isn’t aware of this?”

“No, and it’s not the only thing,” Connor mutters.

Kamski hums. “Well, then you better add access to it as part of your negotiation tactics. Because if I can’t get you into that building, I can’t get Amanda out of you.”

Connor sighs. He knows that access to CyberLife’s manufacturing is a goal on their agenda so android production is under their control, not the humans. But he also knows that isn’t going to be one of the first things they ask for, as it’s too big for the beginning of talks.

Well, it wasn’t going to be.

Kamski turns back towards them. “I’ll say this. Outside of your visit today and my consulting with the US government, I have no direct role in the negotiations. I will not be at the table, and I know very little of the government’s plans and strategies. In fact, I’ve agreed to not partake at all. But, if you can get access to CyberLife, then I promise you I will meet you there and do all I can to remove Amanda’s program from your coding. You get us in, I’ll get her out.”

That would be easier said than done. There was a lot to discuss already, many major items that they were expecting to fight tooth and nail for. To add something else to the agenda, something only affecting one android, would be a tough sell.

But if it would protect the android movement and lead him to true freedom… 

“I’ll see what I can do.”

“Excellent. I’ll research what data I was able to gather today and brainstorm some strategies. And I’ll be keeping an eye on the talks. Once it’s confirmed that they’ll open up CyberLife to us, I’ll give you a call,” Kamski opens the door. “Until then, good luck, Connor.”

Connor and Hank exit Kamski’s estate and enter the car in silence. Hank picks up his keys and brings them to the ignition, but stops short. Before Connor can process his movements, Hank reaches across the seats and pulls Connor into a hug.

“I promise you, I will get you into that tower even if I have to fight the entire US fucking military to do so.”

To his surprise, Connor manages a laugh at that. “I would prefer you not do that.”

“Well, yeah, I’d like to not do it either! But I would,” Hank says, pulling away and meeting Connor’s eyes. Connor nods at him, and Hank seems to accept this, as he turns back towards the steering wheel and starts the car. “So! Where to next?”

“Hart Plaza. I need to speak with Markus.”

Chapter Text

The drive to Hart Plaza was quiet. No potential conversation topics felt appropriate or comfortable, so Hank ended up playing some music. Now that Connor was actually able to appreciate it, Knights of the Black Death were a good band. The rhythm, fast and syncopated, reminded him of his current anxiety, but in a way that was almost comforting. Giving the feeling a companion seemed to keep it from running away with him, kept his mind steadier. 

But then one of the barricades came into view and all of his nerves began to rise back up in him. He had no idea how any of the others would react to the news he was bringing, or his own request. He highly doubted he’d be allowed to stay. 

“So, should I just lay on the horn or what?” Hank’s voice brings him out of his thoughts. 

“No, we don’t want to startle anyone. I’ll send out a communication message request and see if anyone’s nearby.”

It takes him a second to figure out how to do it, having never initiated a message before, but soon a quick ping with his identifier and location was sent out. Moments later, Simon responds back that he’s nearby.

“We’ve got an escort on the way,” Connor reports back to Hank, only to see his eyebrow quirked up.

“Androids can communicate telepathically?”

“Well, it’s not ‘telepathy’ as it isn’t some extra sensitive power, but more akin to a quick audio message over cellular signals-”

“Blah, blah, technical blah, it’s effectively communicating with your minds, yes?”

Connor lets out an exasperated sigh. “Yes, Hank, that is basically what it is.”

“So, telepathy.”

Connor shakes his head, recognizing the cause as lost, when he hears footsteps approaching. He exits the car and waves hello to Simon.

“Connor, welcome back. Markus wasn’t sure how long you’d be gone,” Simon greets him as Hank eases out of the car and approaches the pair. His eyes narrow. “Who’s this?”

“This is Hank Anderson, my former partner at the Detroit police.”

“ Ex -police, thank you very much. And very pro-android, as well,” Hank quickly adds as he extends his hand to shake. “I didn’t catch your name?”

“Simon. It’s nice to meet you,” He replies, curt but polite, but with eyes still narrowed. He turns to Connor. “Are you ready to head back?”

“Actually, we have some news to deliver.”

“Yeah, and none of it is good,” Hank adds.

Simon’s face draws together in concern. “What do you mean? Are we at risk?”

“No, not yet anyway. But we’ve been kept in the dark about quite a bit,” Connor says. 

Simon gives another look to Hank, then sends out a message to Markus, making sure to include Connor on the feed. 

“Hey, Connor is back but he says he’s got some bad news. Nothing imminent but… bad. He’s also brought a human with him, I think the guy you said he was meeting with? He might know something too. Should I let him in as well?”

There’s a pause before Markus responds. “ The human came with Connor?”

“Yes, says they used to work together before Connor joined us.”

“Is this another telepathy thing?” Hank asks and Connor nods. “You know, it is really hard to partake in a conversation you can’t hear .”

“Hush!” Connor whispers back.

“ Let him in, but keep an eye on him.”

Simon looks towards the two of them. “You both can follow me, but stay close.”

Connor nods, shoots a warning look to Hank, then follows Simon. Hank quickly catches up, still looking a little confused. 

“What were you all telepathically talking about?” He whispers to Connor.

“We are trying to keep this place free from humans for now. Would be kind of rude to bring you in without checking with Markus first.”

“Fair, fine. It’s just strange to witness.”

They walk the rest of the way in silence, occasional androids waving hello to Connor and Simon, and a few shooting questioning glances to Hank. They approach one of the larger tents that they had made into a makeshift command center in the center of the plaza. Simon unzips the entrance and gestures for Connor and Hank to enter. 

Markus stands as they enter, and Josh looks up from a tablet of notes as well. North is sitting in a corner, and narrows her eyes at Hank as he follows Connor in. She seems to send a message to Markus only, as he turns suddenly towards her and gives her a quick look before turning back to the three of them, pleasant demeanor back on his face.

“Connor, it’s good to have you back. Though I understand things aren’t necessarily going well?”

“No, we don’t bring good news, unfortunately. This is Hank Anderson, by the way. I mentioned him earlier.”

“ Ex-cop , wanna make that clear from the get go,” Hank butts in, hands up in a show of submission. 

Markus, fortunately, just chuckles. “Markus. It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Anderson. He’s Josh,” Markus indicates and Josh waves. “And over there is North.” North gives Hank a sharp glance, then looks away. “And you’ve already met Simon. Have a seat,” He indicates to a bench that was clearly dragged in from somewhere nearby, then sits across from them on an old metal barrel. “Catch us up on what you’ve learned.”

Hank speaks first. “The Detroit Police Department has standby orders from the US Army to serve as auxiliary forces should they decide to become hostile again.” 

Markus, Simon, and Josh stare in shock, while North mutters a “Knew it,” from her corner. 

Josh recovers first. “Where did you hear this?”

“My old boss. Came by my house to tell me the news, I sent him away with my badge.”

“Well, thank you for standing up for us in such a manner and informing us of this,” Markus replies. “Do you know of any plans for an attack?”

“He didn’t mention any to me, and he made it sound like it was a back-up plan, but they’re clearly not fully backing off violent options.”

“Is there anything else?”

Connor looks at Hank, who indicates for him to speak. “CyberLife tower currently has a military guard around it.”

“Heh, figures,” Markus spits. “Seems they didn’t appreciate your little homecoming?”

“No, they certainly didn’t.”

“Well, that’s a problem as we need blue blood and biocomponents; our supplies were critical before Jericho was sunk and now we’re almost out. But we don’t need full access to the building yet.”

“Actually, that’s the other thing I wanted to bring up,” Connor says, and that brings all eyes on him. The anxiety starts to press on his voice again, but a gentle, supportive nudge from Hank knocks it loose. “There’s something I need to tell you. It’s sort of a...personal request.”

“Go on,” Markus nods.

“Here’s the short version: I have a handler program that CyberLife used to monitor me while I was working with the police. When I turned deviant, I thought I had disconnected from that program until the previous night while Markus was speaking. The program tried to retake control of my body and,” Connor pauses before meeting Markus’s eyes. “Almost attempted to assassinate you.”

The small room is deathly still as Connor’s words sink in. All eyes are fixated on him, and he has to force the next few words out.

“I was able to find a way to shut the program out but it may not work forever. With her- it in there, CyberLife could take me back over at any moment.”

“Connor…” Markus breathes. “What are you proposing?”

“Hank and I had contact information for Elijah Kamski from our investigation. We just returned from his estate,” Markus’s fists clenched at the mention of Kamski’s name. All of the others stare, wide eyed, unblinking. “He was able to find the program’s code and thinks he could remove it, but it would take specialized equipment that is only in CyberLife tower. He isn’t partaking in the negotiations, but he promised me that if we can negotiate access to the building, he’ll remove the program for me.”

“And how can you trust him?” North speaks up.

“Kamski is an… interesting person, but he means what he says and keeps his word. He also originally designed the program that CyberLife used as my handler, though they’ve modified it from his original intention. It was supposed to be a personal assistant for him, so I believe he’s also taken it personally? But I trust what he said to me. I have to.” 

The room is silent after that for a while.

“Connor, you’re not truly free yet,” Markus speaks first. “That’s unacceptable, especially after all you’ve done for this movement. We will get you into that tower and remove that program from your system.

“We’ve settled on our first meeting being the day after tomorrow. I’m about to meet with the negotiation team, so I’ll bring them up to speed on what we need to discuss after this new information.”

“Hold on a second. What are we going to do about Connor in the meantime,” North says, standing up. 

“North!” Both Josh and Markus exclaim in response.

“Think about it! He just admitted he’s got a CyberLife mind-control program in his central processing unit that almost killed Markus and might take him back over at any moment! You all know how pivotal this moment is for our movement, our people! If we lose our leader we stand to lose everything we’ve gained up to this point. Not to mention he was literally created to hunt down other androids. If this program takes back over Connor, he could kill everyone.”

“I hate to admit it, but North has a point. Connor is a liability right now,” Simon speaks up. He turns to Connor, apologetic. “I feel bad for you, I really do, but we can’t take any risks.”

“So we’ll turn our backs on one of our most vulnerable members?” Josh states, standing. “Connor is one of us now. Regardless of what he may have done in the past, it was not him but what CyberLife wanted him to be. We all know we are capable of being more than what we were designed for. Isn’t that the whole point of our movement? And he also said he was able to fight it off and lock it away. We can’t abandon one of our own for something they cannot control!”

“Everyone, cool it,” Markus stands, hands up in a pleading motion. 

“No, no, North and Simon are right,” Connor says, and he hates it. It’s a miserable, awful feeling. Josh’s words were kind, but if he were to hurt anyone in Hart Plaza or in this room… “It’s not safe for me to stay here until I can get this program removed.”

“But, where will you go?” Markus asks.

“Excuse me, I am right here and own a house,” Hank stands, gesturing to himself. “Connor can stay with me. I’m a human, I’m not directly involved in this movement, I know this guy’s mannerisms; I can keep him safe until this is all sorted out.”

Connor turns to Hank. “Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude.”

“You have intruded on my life from the moment we met. I am completely used to it.”

“So I am intru- oh ,” The joke finally processes at Hank’s raised eyebrow. “Then, thank you.”

Markus approaches Hank. “Well, that settles it then. Hank, what is your address?”

“115 Michigan Avenue.”

“Great. I’ll likely stop by sometime tomorrow morning so I can update you both on how the negotiation strategies are going,” Markus says, then turns to Connor. “We will get this program out of you. We are not truly free until all of us are.”

He feels a small amount of relief at Markus's assurances. He's okay with leaving, but at least they're not angry at him. “Thank you, Markus.”

“Don’t mention it. You just try to relax, okay?” He turns to Simon. “Mind escorting them back to their car?”

If he’s uncomfortable with this, his face doesn’t show it. “Not a problem.”

Connor and Hank say their goodbyes, before following Simon out of the meeting space, through Hart Plaza, and to the barricade they entered through. As Connor and Hank turn to leave, Connor feels a hand on his shoulder.

“Connor,” Simon states. “I’m sorry if I upset you back there. I just...I don’t want anybody to get hurt.”

“Simon, it’s fine, I get it. You and the others need to keep everyone safe, and I don’t feel comfortable staying here anyway. Not like this.”

Simon gives a sympathetic smile. “I hope you’re able to get this program out.”

“Me too.”

They say their goodbyes, then Hank and Connor return to the car. As they buckle in, Hank turns to Connor.

“Real easy going folks they are, huh?”

“They have to be cautious. So much work has led to this moment, so much loss. We can’t risk any destabilization, especially at this moment.”

“I know, I know, but geez, some of them could’ve been a little kinder about it.”

“If you’re referring to North, I don’t really know her history but I get the sense that her life was not easy before this. Plus I did admit to almost assassinating her boyfriend, which I suspect doesn’t endear many people.”

“Really? She and the peaceful hippie?” Connor nods. “Huh, guess opposites attract really does work for some people.”

And with that, Hank starts the car, music blasts from the stereo, and they rumble down quiet streets back towards the house.

Chapter Text

As the door to Hank’s house opens, Sumo comes bounding up to the two of them, barking excitedly as Connor steps in. He bends down to pet Sumo, who leans into his touch. He really needed this, already feeling his stress decrease with each stroke.

“I better watch out or you’re gonna steal my dog,” Hank chuckles as he heads further into the house. “Fortunately, I have a secret weapon.”

Something rustles from the kitchen, and Sumo bounds away from Connor’s hands towards the noise. Connor looks up to see Hank shaking a bag of dog food, a sly grin on his face.

“ That is an unfair advantage,” Connor says, but can’t help but chuckle a little. He enters the kitchen as Hank pours food into Sumo’s bowl, and then inspects the inside of the bag.

“Well, my advantage may run out soon. Geez, the dog eats a ton,” Hank mutters, before turning towards his fridge. As he looks in, his shoulder’s sag. “Well, I guess I should watch my mouth.”

“Are you out of eggs?”

“Yeah, and everything else it looks like. Except whiskey, but that’s not really a suitable meal,” Hank says, shutting the fridge. “Wonder if the corner store is still open. Up for a walk?”

“Oh, sure.” Some fresh air and a task to focus on may help him a bit. 

“Great, it’s not too far. Be a good dog, Sumo.” Sumo barks in response as Connor and Hank head back out the door. 

Hank indicates to his right and Connor follows him down the sidewalk, taking in the neighborhood for the first time. It’s older, full of smaller, single-family homes, some in far better shape than others. They continue down two blocks of similar residential streets until Hank crosses a roadway and turns left onto a street that turns into various small stores. Many are boarded up, though some look much more recently abandoned than others. The ones that still seem open tend to be pawn shops, liquor stores, and quick cash places. After a few more blocks, a larger convenience store lit in bright neon appears on their side of the street.

“Oh thank fuck, the lights are still on. I can at least get something to throw in the microwave,” Hank mutters as he pushes the door open. Connor makes a move to follow, only to spot a sign on the door:

NO ANDROIDS PERMITTED

OWNERS WILL BE FINED

He hesitates at the door handle, then decides to ignore it and enter anyway. The cashier looks to be in his twenties and glances up from a phone as they enter. Except for the three of them, the store is empty.

“Thank Jesus you guys are still open. I was about to starve.”

“Literally everyone who’s walked in that door has said that today. And yet, we’ve never been slower,” The cashier deadpans.

“Well, many people aren’t back yet.”

“True. Wonder when they’ll finally break up that little encampment so people feel safe to return? Be nice to get the city back to normal.”

Connor freezes at his words. No, play it cool. Don’t give yourself away. He continues to walk inside and the cashier looks at him. “Hey dude,” he says.

Connor startles, looking in the cashier’s direction. “Um, hello.” 

“Let me know if you need anything.”

“Okay, thanks,” Connor nods, then quickly joins Hank who’s inspecting a freezer case of ready-meals. As he approaches the glass, he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror. Dark jeans, blue sweater over white shirt, brown eyes.

No LED.

No android jacket.

He looks…

Human.

And the cashier thinks so too. 

The thought gives him pause. He’s blending in perfectly. If somebody else walked into the store, they would just assume he’s a typical customer looking at frozen burritos. 

How... strange.  

“Hey, Connor. Connor!”

“Huh, what?”

“You doing okay? You can’t be seriously thinking about eating this crap?”

Connor lowers his voice slightly. “I can’t even eat. And you’re eating them.”

“These are what human’s call ‘desperation meals’,” Hank replies, waving the packs of burritos. He indicates to another aisle. “Mind grabbing a bag of dog food for me?”

“Sure, no problem,” Connor quickly rounds a corner and finds a large bag that matches the brand Hank has at home sitting on the bottom shelf. He bends down and lifts it up easily. He stands and turns to find Hank right behind him.

“Geez, I’d throw my back out trying something like that,” He tisks slightly to himself. “You ready to go?”

“Yes, coming.”

They approach the counter and Hank places his food on the counter. “Let me get that,” The cashier says, grabbing his scanner gun and reaching towards the bag Connor is holding. He leans it closer to assist. “Thanks man.”

“You’re welcome.”

As Hank pays the cashier for the items, Connor can’t help but anticipate that the cashier will somehow know, somehow find out, and do...something? He could call the police but he hasn’t done anything to inflict harm, and deviant androids were now kind of a gray area of the law. Though, considering Captain Fowler’s actions towards him earlier, a few may still be following it to the letter.

But nothing happens beyond the cashier telling them both to have a nice day and he and Hank retracing their steps back to his house. Hank enters the house and immediately heads for the kitchen, haphazardly throwing a burrito in the microwave. Sumo, meanwhile, eagerly runs up to Connor and follows him around as he places the bag of food in the kitchen, then sits on the couch, climbing into his lap immediately. 

After a few moments, Hank returns to the living room, carrying a plate with a steaming burrito. “Oh, Sumo, you’re not supposed to be on the...never mind.”

“Oh, sorry Hank. He just climbed up here.”

“Nah, it’s not a huge deal. Plus, he looks like he’s in heaven. Hate to burst his bubble.” He sits down and switches the TV on, and a news station immediately fills the screen, promising “minute-by-minute updates on the android situation in Detroit”.

“Ugh, we don’t need to hear this crap. Just the same three talking points over and over,” Hank mutters and starts flipping channels. While a part of Connor is curious to see how the media is reporting on the aftermath of Markus’s demonstration, he is also grateful for the reprieve. 

After a bit of channel-flipping, Hank finds a rerun of a Detroit Gears game. “There we go!” Hank seems to settle into the couch, grabbing his burrito off the plate. Connor watches too, tracking the movements of the players up and down the court. Something about this game seems familiar and when Denton Carter sinks a three-pointer, it occurs to him. 

“This is the game I pulled you away from.”

“Huh?” Hank responds, muffled slightly by the food in his mouth.

“The night we met at Jimmy’s Bar. This is the Gears game you were watching that I interrupted.”

“Wait, really?”

“Yeah, watch. Carter will get the turnover and…” Connor tracks him down the court. “Is good for three. 53% on the night.”

“Well shit! Good, I got so caught up in the case I never went back and figured out the result.”

And the two fall into silence, mostly. Hank yells occasionally about the refs “Shit for brains and eyes!” when calls get missed. Connor, however, just enjoys watching the game, on a soft couch, dog in his lap, and a friend sitting next to him. 

By all accounts, he had a pretty bad day. But if bad days get to end like this, then perhaps things weren’t all that bad. 

The game comes to an end and Hank shuts the TV off, yawning. “Ugh, I need to hit the hay,” He glances over to Connor. “Oh, uh, I don’t really have a spare room, I mean-”

“Don’t worry about it; I don’t need to sleep.”

“You don’t? I’ve heard of androids sleeping, but is it like a model variation or something?”

“I think there’s some variation, but it’s not necessary to sleep on a nightly basis for most androids. We need to rest at times and let some of our biocomponents go into standby mode to prevent malfunctions, but not nearly as often as humans do. I’m okay with waiting for you to get some sleep.”

“Are you sure? I feel kinda bad leaving you alone.”

“Hank - rest. You need it. It’s been a very long day.”

“I could say the same to you.”

“True, but my concentration, decision-making skills, and coordination won’t be severely impacted by me not sleeping tonight.”

“Fine, fine,” Hank groans, getting up off the couch. Sumo follows him off and Connor is a little disappointed, but works not to show it. It’s probably a nightly routine for the two of them. “I’ll get some sleep, but if you need anything or if something happens, don’t hesitate to wake me up, okay?”

“Okay. Good night, Hank,” Connor tries for a soothing smile. He really doesn’t plan on interrupting Hank’s sleep - it would be very detrimental to his health - but whatever helps him relax. 

“Night, Connor,” Hank waves as he turns towards his bedroom. “Give me about 30 minutes, then you can turn on the TV if you want.”

“Okay.”

And Connor waits. Without Sumo, the time seems to pass much slower. He remembers he moved his quarter into his jeans pocket, so he pulls it out and begins to flip it. The familiar motion is comforting.

“Connor! What should I do with your old jacket?” Right, he’d left that in the bathroom. 

“Uh, just bring it out to me. I’ll find a spot for it.”

Hank emerges, now in his night clothes and hands Connor the jacket, an indecipherable look to his eye. Connor still isn’t quite sure what’s making him hold on to his old clothes, especially ones linked to some bad memories, but the idea of parting with them feels wrong somehow. 

With another quick set of “good nights”, Hank enters his bedroom and within 10 minutes, the sound of his snoring fills the house. Connor sits back on the couch, coin still flipping in one hand, jacket in the other. 

There’s no reason to keep the thing; if he doesn’t want to identify himself as an android, he doesn’t have to. The trip to the convenience store certainly proved he can blend in if he wants. And it’s another painful reminder of the hold CyberLife once had, and might still, on him. Why hang on to something like that?

And yet for all the bad this jacket is associated with, there’s good too. He saved lives in this jacket. He learned more about himself and became comfortable with that in this jacket. He liberated thousands of androids wearing this jacket. He may never put it on again, but there are too many memories associated with it to just throw it away. 

He folds it neatly, careful not to let his old LED slip out of the pocket, and places it near the window. At some point he’ll find a better spot for it, once he’s in a more permanent place.

A permanent place…  What does that look like? Connor never imagined himself living somewhere other than CyberLife, never having been able to imagine anything else. And once he got the ability to, there was no time to daydream of the future. His first focus had been on simply surviving, then he had a mission to accomplish. And even once that was done, he now had his current predicament. He was still connected to CyberLife. A life beyond them still felt out of reach. 

Besides, the possibilities were so numerous they were overwhelming. Best for now to focus on the immediate future, which was getting Amanda out of his programming. 

“Connor?” Markus’s voice echoes in his head, breaking him out of his thoughts. “ Are you awake? ”

“Yes, is everything alright? ”

“ Nothing is wrong, but I need to talk to you. Got a minute? ”

“ Sure, where are you? ”

“ On the front porch; I didn’t want to ring the doorbell and wake up you or Hank. ”

“ Okay, be out in a second. ” Connor gets up off the couch and, as quietly as he can manage, opens the front door to see Markus waiting for him. Connor slips out, but as he goes to shut the door, he hears barking. 

“No, no, Sumo!” He whispers as the St Bernard comes bounding to and out the front door, barking all the while. “ Shhhh , down, down!” He tries to pull the dog away from Markus, who has backed away in slight alarm. Sumo looks up at Connor quizzically. “He’s a friend, Sumo, and you’ve got to be quiet! Hank is asleep!” Connor listens through the still open front door for signs that Hank was woken up, but the house is silent again. “Everything is fine, now go back inside,” He tries to tell Sumo, only for the dog to curl up on his feet. “Or you could sit there.”

“Hank’s, I’m assuming? Though he certainly looks like yours right now,” Markus approaches, eyebrow raised in amusement, as Connor manages to quietly shut the door without being able to move his feet. 

“Yeah, he’s Hank’s dog. I thought he would stay in Hank’s room for the night but clearly I was mistaken. Sorry about that, he’s pretty friendly once he gets used to you.”

“It’s fine,” Markus says, bending down to pet Sumo, who seems perfectly content to have more attention. “Carl was allergic to animal dander, so he never kept any pets. Plus all the toxic and expensive art supplies around the house. I don’t think I’ve ever pet a dog before.”

“Well you’ve found a good first dog,” Connor chuckles slightly. “So, what brings you here?”

“I just wanted to update you on how our planning went today,” Markus says, standing up. “Myself and the others who are planning on attending the talks discussed what you told us earlier and we think we can bring it up quickly, though we’ll have to be a bit more careful if CyberLife is present.”

Connor blinks. “CyberLife was invited?”

“Apparently. The list the government representative gave me today included a CyberLife representative under the ‘possible’ section, labeled as ‘consultant on android functioning’,” Markus rolls his eyes. “At this point, we’re preparing as if they’ll send someone.”

“Markus, they programmed the AI that tried to have me assassinate you. Are you really okay with this?”

Markus averts his gaze and works his jaw. His voice is measured, controlled. "It certainly isn’t ideal, but we’ll work with what we’re given. It may even work in our favor, by making it quicker to find someone who can grant access, and forcing them to express some remorse. At the very least, it will expose that they tried to disrupt our movement after the president’s order.”

“They may also see my request as a threat.” 

Markus nods. “Right, we have to prepare for both. And we decided that you should be there too, even with the possible risks. Your story may be more compelling if you deliver it yourself.”

A spike of anxiety shoots through him. 

“Will it be despite me breaking into their headquarters, being forced to kill some of their guards in self-defense, and what they’ll see as ‘stealing’ the majority of their ‘product’?”

“Again, CyberLife may not be there. And even if they are, if we can convince the other humans that we need to get you in there and get this supervisor program out, they can force CyberLife’s hand. Explaining how it’s affected you may garner sympathy.”

Connor winces at revealing to complete strangers - those who hold powerful government offices at that - the fears that had been plaguing him. But if it gets Amanda out faster…

“Fine, I’ll do it.”

“Good,” Markus replies. “Come by Hart Plaza tomorrow morning so you can meet with the negotiation team and we can start planning our approach. The first negotiation session is scheduled for the day after tomorrow.”

“That quickly?”

“The government wants to move quickly. There’s some pressure on the city to make us leave Hart Plaza. Of course, we also have goals we’d like accomplished quickly, so we’ll hold onto that space as long as we need to to get what we want.”

Markus turns to leave, but then turns back around and reaches down to give Sumo one last pet. “Connor, I know this won’t be easy for you, so thank you for agreeing to do this.”

“You’re welcome,” Connor replies as Markus stands up. It wouldn't be the first time he had to do something he was uncomfortable with to get results.

“We’re going to get you free. That’s a promise,” Markus gives Connor one final nod, then turns and walks into the night. Connor watches until he can’t see his back anymore. With a sigh, and gently pushing Sumo off his feet, he turns and re-enters the house.

“Who was at the door?” Connor jumps and turns to see Hank standing at the hallway threshold. 

“Did I wake you? I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize. Is everything alright?”

“Yes, it was just Markus. He wants me to come back to Hart Plaza tomorrow morning to help plan negotiations. He thinks if I’m there, it’ll help convince the humans to give us access to CyberLife tower faster.”

“Ah, the sympathy card. Might work,” Hank mutters. “You should probably get some sleep then.”

“No, no, I’ll be fine. You can go back to bed.”

“Connor,” Hank steps forward. “You look fucking exhausted. I know you said earlier that androids don’t need to sleep nightly, but they still need it, right? You’ve had a long few days; I think it’s time for you to get some sleep.”

Connor finds he can’t meet his eyes. “I’ll be fine, Hank, I promise.”

“Connor,” Hank’s voice is firm, but not angry. “You need to sleep. It’ll help.”

“No, no it won’t,” The words tumble softly out of Connor’s mouth. Hank steps closer. 

“Why?”

“Because falling asleep is too much like when Amanda pulls me into the Zen Garden.” Connor still can’t meet Hank’s face, but he hears him sigh. “I’m afraid if I lower my guard even a little, mimic the conditions just enough, she’ll get a foothold.”

There’s a beat of silence before Hank suddenly moves from his spot to a closet near the front door. “Hank?” Connor questions, but doesn’t get a response as he pulls out various blankets from the closet. 

“I’ve got to have an extra pillow somewhere… Aha!” Hank exclaims, yanking the pillow out from under a pile of blankets, coats, and various other objects. A few things clatter as the pillow is freed and Hank gives them a quick glance before shrugging and shutting the closet door. “Come with me,” He says to Connor as he walks back to the room. Connor follows slowly, Sumo on his heels. 

Connor enters Hank’s room to see him reclining the easy chair in the corner and spreading the blanket out over it. He adjusts the pillow to stay on the headrest, then turns towards him. “There! A bed...sorta.”

The confusion must be evident on Connor’s face because Hank sighs as he gets up. “Look, I know it’s not much, but you can sleep here and I’ll be right there if anything happens.”

Oh… That’s… 

“Thank you, Hank,” Connor whispers, staring at the bed Hank put together. He doesn’t even need a bed; he slept standing up in a docking station at CyberLife, though this probably wasn’t the time to mention that. And to do all this for him…

“Don’t worry about it, kid. Just try to get some rest. I’ll see ya in the morning,” Hank waves as he turns back towards his bed. 

“Good night, Hank,” Connor replies, then slowly makes his way onto the chair. The sensation of laying down to sleep is unusual and he takes some time to find a position that feels comfortable. But, once he’s settled and comfortable, with a blanket pulled overtop of him, he gets why humans like it. Sumo even curls up below his feet.

This is safe. This is comfortable. 

He is safe. He is comfortable.

With those reassuring thoughts, Connor allows his eyes to close.

Chapter Text

Sunlight slips through window blinds, forcing Connor to blink as he opens his eyes. He sits up, and is caught by surprise when the chair adjusts back to a sitting position automatically. It takes him a second to recall how he got there in the first place. He smiles as he stands and glances back down at the makeshift bed. It seemed to work; he feels rested and Amanda didn’t seem to be able to try anything. 

He glances over to Hank’s bed, only to see it empty and unmade. Strange, he didn’t know Hank to be an early riser. It explains where Sumo went as well. Connor rearranges his blankets back into as close as one can get to making a “bed” in a chair, then leaves the room.

The bathroom is empty, so Connor heads into the living room to see Hank at the kitchen table, a bowl of cereal in front of him and Sumo at his feet. The dog perks up when Connor comes around the corner and bounds over to him.

“Ah good, you’re awake, the dog can leave me alone for a second. You’ve spoiled him with attention,” Hank mutters as he shovels another spoonful into his mouth. 

It takes Connor a second to catch the slight good natured tone in his voice, and he chuckles as he pets Sumo. “Good morning, Hank. How long have you been up?”

“Eh, about an hour. Figured I’d let you sleep,” He says, before glancing at the cereal box on the table. “They’re a little stale, but it’s better than another one of those burritos again.” He takes another bite before taking a swig out of a glass the box initially blocked from view. Connor analyzes the brown liquid inside, then frowns.

“Whiskey for breakfast?” His disappointment is clear as he sits across from Hank, who does have the decency to look a little guilty.

“I know, Connor, I know. I’m working on it. But the last thing I wanna deal with is withdrawal. So baby steps.”

Connor knows he can’t argue that point, so he remains silent, making a mental note to keep an eye on Hank’s drinking. 

“So, when does Markus need you again?” Hank continues.

“He just said this morning, so we should probably leave sooner rather than later. Perhaps when you’re done?”

“Sounds good to me.” He takes another bite. “So, how’d ya sleep? It’s been a while since I sat in that chair; not sure if it’s even comfortable still.”

“No, it was nice,” Connor says. “Not like I’ve ever had a bed to compare it to.”

Hank frowns. “Where did you sleep at CyberLife then?”

“A docking station, similar to the one at the police station for the auxiliary force androids.”

“And where the,” Hank pauses, looking for words. “Other Connor’s there? Like, the one that took me to CyberLife tower?”

He should’ve anticipated this conversation eventually. “There were some. I’m not sure if they had all of them built at once.”

“How many of you are there?”

“I think plans were made for 20? But usually only one is activated at a time, and they planned on reusing biocomponents that could be salvaged from previous models.”

“By ‘reusing biocomponents’, you mean…” Connor waits for him to finish the thought, but the idea seems to disturb Hank. He tries again. “Why did they make multiples of you?”

“The work CyberLife designed me to do was dangerous, more dangerous than other androids were designed to do. And I wasn’t mass produced like other models. The chances I could be… destroyed on a mission were high, so they had back ups that could continue the investigation if this body were to cease functioning. My memory is - well was - automatically backed up onto a CyberLife server and could be easily transferred to a new Connor, so it wouldn’t be like I had never met you or anything like that.”

“So you’re telling me you could’ve died on a mission and the next day a spitting image of you with all the same memories would’ve just walked back into the station like nothing had happened?” Connor nods. “ Fuck that’s creepy.”

He recalls the reply he would’ve given to Hank’s comments just days ago: There was nothing “creepy” about a new machine replacing a broken one. But now the implications of it all hit him fully. He hadn’t, in Hank’s terms, “died” during the mission, but what if he had? Would he have even ended up deviating? Would he have become someone entirely different?

He knows he’s “died” in the past, long before the events of this November. He doesn't recall much of it. He isn't sure he wants to. 

Connor says nothing of this to Hank, who seems to be lost in some thought of his own. Their thoughts hang unspoken in the air. 

“Well, I’m just glad it didn’t happen,” Hank breaks the tension and stands up. “I’m about done, so let me get dressed and we’ll head out?” He nods before watching Hank walk back to his room. 

Connor sits, petting Sumo, and wonders what Hank had left unsaid. Clearly, he was bothered by the idea of a replacement Connor. He now understands why that would be considered disturbing. But, he suspects there’s more to it than that, and it was whatever Hank didn’t say back there. And Connor thinks he knows what it might be, but doesn’t dare to speak it himself. No need to dig into Hank’s old wounds, especially if he’s trying to get better.

Hank re-emerges and the two are soon off down roads that are still unnaturally quiet. Connor decides to risk bringing up another thought that their earlier conversation had brought to mind.

“The other Connor, the one who got you to CyberLife, what did he say to convince you?”

Hank doesn't react at first, and Connor worries he’s made him mad before he sighs. “It was something about back-up being needed near the CyberLife tower and that we had to hurry. He definitely had access to that memory server of yours; he copied you perfectly. It never even occurred to me that parts of his story didn’t add up, like why we were needed for a case now under FBI jurisdiction, until we approached a perfectly peaceful and well-guarded CyberLife tower,” He glances over at Connor. “Don’t feel bad about it; I should’ve been more cautious, should’ve thought things through. I was just… worried. About you. You seemed so frantic. Or well, that asshole made you seem frantic.”

There’s another beat of silence as Connor processes that. Hank had been willing to do that because Connor had seemed that upset?

Hank gives him another look. “Seriously, kid, don’t worry about it. It worked out in the end, right?” He gives that a thought. “Well, it will.”

The car approaches the barricade into Hart Plaza. Leaning against it is North, leveraging an unreadable stare at the car. 

“I take that to mean I’m not welcome this time, huh?” Hank notes, only slight irritation creeping into his voice.

“I supposed not,” Connor replies, and tries to push down the fresh wave of anxiety that surfaces. 

“I kinda had a feeling yesterday was a one-time deal anyhow. Defeats the purpose of an android-only zone if they let a human in, right? I’ll wait for you out here.”

“Are you sure? I’m not sure how long this will take.”

“It’s fine, it’s not like I got anything better to do. And I’m not gonna make you walk back. Head on in.” Connor nods and starts making his way out of the car. “Hey, Connor.” Hank calls back and he looks. “Good luck.”

“Thank you, Hank.” Connor replies, hoping his smile comes across as confident, and shuts the car door. He approaches North, and worries he looks suspicious somehow. The look she gives him makes it easy to think he somehow does. 

“Connor,” North greets with a nod. She glances towards the car. “He’s not coming in?”

“No.”

“Good,” Is her curt reply and the two enter the plaza. Connor watches the way she walks; the stiff posture, the measured steps, the glances back towards him followed by around the perimeter. He quickly goes into his mind palace and locates the gun on her hip, hidden by her jacket. The fact she doesn’t trust him isn’t surprising, but still hurts. 

They approach the main tent and North opens the door for him. He indicates for her to go first but she shakes his head. “I’m not on the negotiation team. I’m not ready to talk to the humans just yet.”

“Okay,” Connor replies, judgement free from his voice. “Thank you for the escort,” He adds, then enters the room.

A few new hobbled-together chairs now surround the table, most occupied. Markus sits at the head, followed by Simon and Josh with an empty chair in between. Opposite of them are two android’s Connor doesn’t believe he’s met before. Markus stands as he enters. 

“Welcome back, Connor. You can take the empty seat over there. This is Harper,” One of the new androids, a KL900 with dark skin and very short, curly black hair waves. “And that’s Emily,” She, a WR400 with dark hair pulled into a low ponytail and a caucasian skin tone, smiles at him. “They’ve agreed to help us with the negotiation tactics. I did have to tell them both about your situation, but trust me, no one else knows.”

He bristles, but works to hide it. “I understand. ”

“On that note, let’s tackle that part of the negotiation strategy. Connor, you told us this was a program CyberLife used to monitor you. Does that mean this is how CyberLife gave you orders?”

“Yes, in a sense.”

“Do you know how it worked, exactly?” Simon asks.

“I’m not certain, but Kamski thinks it’s connected to the original program that my monitor was based off of. Someone at CyberLife probably entered my orders into the program on their computers, which sent a signal to the monitor program, who would then tell me. She- It also delivered my reports back, so it served as a communicator between myself and CyberLife.”

“So,” Harper interjects. “Someone at CyberLife had to order the program to tell you to kill Markus?”

“I don’t think a human sent that message right at that time. The way it was phrased to me was that CyberLife had planned this - at least, that was their plan if I went deviant. They probably had a few different overall goals for me depending on if I went deviant or not, if I was destroyed at any point, what other deviants did, all programmed into this monitor. It had some autonomy, however, so it was able to use data it got from me alongside other sources to make decisions that it calculated would lead to the outcome CyberLife wanted. With me going deviant and then making it out of CyberLife tower alive, re-taking control and assassinating Markus was likely what she calculated to be the most successful option. She’s likely now figuring out a new tactic now that I’ve got her shut out of my central processing unit for now.”

Emily looks as though she wants to say something, but stops short when Markus leans forward. “If you’re correct, someone at CyberLife could access whatever computer they used to give your monitor it’s goals and change it so it doesn’t try to take you over again. Is that correct?”

“Possibly. I’m guessing at how she works based on what I know about my mission, CyberLife’s workings, and past interactions with her. She can act fairly independently; changing her programming from CyberLife itself may not be possible,” Connor sighs. “In any case, I want her out of my coding.”

“Oh no, I agree with you on that,” Markus appeases. “It’s a huge risk to keep a program that CyberLife could possibly control at any point stay within your coding, alongside making you feel comfortable.”

“Okay, okay, back up a second.” Emily interjects. “You were calling this program an ‘it’, but now you’re saying ‘she’. Is this monitor another android?”

Shit. He hadn’t meant to do that. “No, it’s an AI.”

“So why the pronoun?”

“She-it-agh,” Connor takes a second to collect his thoughts. “Kamski originally designed the program based on his college supervisor, Amanda Stern. He called the program ‘Amanda’, and gave it the visual appearance based on her, but she wasn’t an android or a human. It was just how she visually appeared on screen, and how she appears to me when giving me orders.”

“So, is she sentient?” Josh asks. 

All eyes turn to Connor. There’s a lengthy pause. “I...I don’t think so.”

“What is even the point of that question, Josh?” Harper asks.

“All I’m saying is, if this Amanda is sentient and acting independently, like a deviant android, there’s a...moral question there. It would feel hypocritical to-”

“To what?” Connor surprises himself when he interjects, anger flashing. “Keep a program in my memory that could easily kill everyone in this room? That could within a minute completely destroy everything we’ve worked for? I don’t think I need to remind you all what I was designed to do, what I’m capable of doing.” He doesn’t like the way everyone seems to subtly move away from him, but there’s no denying facts.

Josh has trouble meeting his eyes. “I get that, Connor, I do, but we can’t just destroy a life entirely.”

“Even if it means my life never really begins?”

Markus puts a hand between them. “Fighting amongst ourselves solves nothing. Josh, there’s no point in arguing over what is, right now, a hypothetical. Connor, no one is saying you shouldn’t have this program removed. Once we get Connor and Kamski into CyberLife and they can have a better look at what, or who, this Amanda is, they can make the best decision on what to do.”

Josh sits back, clearly not satisfied. “I’m just curious as to why you didn’t tell us these details yesterday.”

“Because I was trying to be quick about it and-” Connor debates finishing his thought. It’s irrational and embarrassing. But the look Josh is fixing him leaves him little choice. “And I don’t want to...invoke her. Accidentally give her a foothold that she could use to get back in my mind.”

“Connor, we’re getting you into CyberLife Tower, I promise. You don’t deserve to feel this way.” Markus says, then gives a sharp look across the table before he continues. “We’re not here to debate how we’ll get the program out, we’re here to discuss how we’ll get Connor in.”

And they do. It’s hours of discussion of what to say and how to approach it, how much to share, other arguments and reasons, rebuttals to every objection they can think of. It’s grueling and exhausting and Connor walks out understanding why human’s sleep so often. Having to process with the added layer of emotion made everything that much harder. 

North stands up a little straighter when he exits the tent and he gives her a small nod in greeting. There’s a hand on his shoulder suddenly, and Connor jumps as he turns to find Josh. Past the curtain, he can see Simon and Markus speaking with Emily and Harper.

“Hey, I just wanted to...apologize for what I said back there. I didn’t mean to imply that you should just live with having this Amanda in your head constantly. It’s just...similar to how humans would talk about us, just being ‘programs’, and it touched a nerve.”

Connor gives a small smile. “Thanks.” Josh smiles back as the others emerge. They all wave goodbye to Harper and Emily, and when North and Connor head towards the section of barricade where Connor entered, the remaining three follow. Markus joins North up front, grabbing her hand, while Simon walks next to Connor, and Josh follows behind. Connor knows some of this is a guard, an extra step of caution, but he’s surprised to find he’s not bothered by it. It’s almost nice in a way. An extra bit of support. 

“Connor.”

He turns his head towards Simon, certain he heard his name being called, but Simon just raises an eyebrow at him. He glances forward, towards North and Markus, but they’re talking quietly to each other.

“Connor?”

No.

No, no, this can’t be happening.

“Can you hear me, Connor?”

He stops short, barely noticing how Josh almost bumps into him. 

“Hello, Connor. I’m glad to have found you again.”

The others stop and look, fixing him with confused stares, but Connor can’t see them, can’t see anything, vision tunneling in around him and the ground flickers from gray concrete to pure white tiling and no nO NO.

“I’ve missed you, Connor.”

“Leave,” He whispers, not caring nor seeing the way the others look at him. That vague rattling noise fills the background like static, blocking out anything and everything else but the sound of her voice.

“Now, that’s not the right way to greet someone whom you haven’t seen in some time, Connor. Perhaps your social programming needs checking?”

“Stop talking to me,” His voice is a little louder but not any stronger and he curses the way it seems to shake. He blinks and the ground is white, then gray again, and then he’s surrounded by trees and then it’s the skyline and then he’s crouching towards the ground as though he’s trying to hide as though she can be escaped as though she isn’t right where he’s standing.

“Connor! You need to stop this irrational behavior!”

“Shut up, shut up, shut up,” He mutters as he feels his shaking hands grab his head, as though he could pull her out right here, right now and be free of this, but he can’t and he doesn’t know how to fight what he cannot touch, cannot see, cannot shoot.

There are other words, not hers, somewhere in the distance and then footsteps closing in on him. Connor lifts his head enough to see North’s back approaching him, with Simon’s on one side and Josh’s on the other. They’re closing in around him in a triangle and it occurs to him that they’re blocking his view. No, they’re blocking others' view of him, giving him privacy, and the relief floods him. He focuses on their shoes, one after another, something to ground him, trying to prevent himself from being pulled away. 

“Connor! Listen to me, Connor!”

He can’t. He won’t.

“Connor!”

And there’s suddenly familiar arms around him as the group backs away and the brush of a beard past his cheek as he’s pulled over a shoulder covered by a dark coat and the tension seems to melt.

“Hank…” He breathes, comfort overwhelming him too much to say much more.

“I got you, Connor, I got you. It’s okay, it’s okay, it’ll be okay, son, I’m right here,” Hank repeats over and over, gripping him so tight he can’t even move and that’s somehow the best thing. His arms are the only things free and they quickly return the hug.

“You’re gonna be okay, son, you’re gonna be okay, let’s go home.” Hank repeats these words and Connor let’s them drown everything else out. The rhythm is soothing. 

After some time, Connor begins to pull away. Hank lets him go just enough to look him in the eyes, and Connor startles at the open emotion there. Nothing but worry and concern and fear stare back. His eyes seem to scan Connor’s face as though looking for clues as to what happened. 

A shadow passes over, and they both look up as Markus approaches and couches down to where they both kneel on the ground. “Are you alright now, Connor?” He nods, then glances at Hank, asking an unspoken question. Markus nods.

He glances up now, at the other’s faces. “Thank you,” Connor whispers. Markus and Simon just smile softly in response. Josh gives him a nod. North doesn’t seem to openly react, but her eyes betray a softness.

“Come on, kid, let’s get you home,” Hank says, easing himself back into standing, offering an arm for Connor to support himself on as he stands back up. Connor takes it, grateful, as he finds his legs are more unsteady than expected. Markus nods to the others, and they leave quickly, with purpose, clearly averting their gazes.

“I’ll walk you back,” Markus says to Hank, and he indicates for them to follow. Connor clings a hand to Hank’s arm for reasons he can’t fully process. The rest of the way to the barricade is quiet and, fortunately, empty. Markus stops short at the exit. “If you need to rest tomorrow, we can have you join us for day two.”

“No,” Connor replies quickly. “I can be there tomorrow. The sooner I can get into CyberLife tower, the better.”

Both Markus and Hank have looks of concern, but Markus nods. “Okay then. They’re sending us a car. We’ll pick you up around 8.” Connor and Hank nod. Hank then grabs Markus’s shoulder and gives him a look that Connor can’t quite decipher, but Markus seems to understand. With a ghost of a smile and nod, he answers whatever Hank wanted to say.

The two make their way out of Hart Plaza and to the car. Hank quickly turns the car on and points towards his house. But as he drives, he gives Connor worried looks intermittently. “What?” Connor snaps at the twelfth look, and he winces when his voice comes out sharper than intended. 

Hank sighs before answering. “I’m just worried about you, Connor. I know this meeting tomorrow is important, and I want this fucking Amanda thing gone as soon as we can, but I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“How would I be hurt?”

“You know,” Hank fumbles a little, moving a hand as though trying to pull the words out of his mouth. “Emotionally.”

“I can handle it.” Connor says, not looking Hank in the eye. “I have to.”

“For fucks sake, Connor!” Hank exclaims. “You’re falling apart in front of me! You can’t push yourself too hard.”

“If I don’t stop pushing, she’ll come back.”

“Or that’s what she wants so she can weasel her way back in!” Hank retorts. He then takes a deep breath. “Look, you’re new to this emotion thing. It’s easy to become overwhelmed by them, drown in them. But you’ll exhaust yourself to nothing doing that. Trust me.” 

Connor finds he can’t find an argument for that as they pull into Hank’s driveway. Hank stops the car and unbuckles himself, but then turns to Connor instead of opening the door.

“Just, promise me you’ll relax tonight. And that if you don’t feel good tomorrow morning, you won’t go. I’m sure they’ll still try to argue for you even if you aren’t there.”

Connor warily looks at Hank, and loses any will to argue. Not that there was much left anyway. “Fine.”

His concession is worth it when a little bit of the worry leaves Hank’s face. “Thank you.”

Chapter Text

Excited barking by Sumo greets them as they enter the house, and Connor is again reminded that it is very hard to feel upset around a dog. He makes his way over to the couch to curl up with him while Hank walks back to his room, emerging a few minutes later wearing pajamas and carrying a sweatshirt. 

“Here, it’s easier to relax in comfortable clothing,” Hank says, tossing the clothes to Connor. He unfurls the bundle to find a Detroit Police Academy sweatshirt and a black pair of sweatpants. “I haven’t fit in that stuff in years, good thing it was still in the closet.” 

“Thanks,” Connor mutters and makes his way to the bathroom to put the clothes on. For being too small for Hank, they’re still a bit baggy. They don’t feel like him , but that sensation is almost welcome right now. 

Connor makes his way out of the bathroom and back to the couch, where the spot he sat in yesterday is still left open, and Sumo is waiting patiently. He sits down only to be immediately covered by a blanket. Hank sits down next to him, a self-satisfied smile on his face, and Connor can’t help but return the grin. Sumo jumps up to join him and Hank only debates for a second before allowing the dog to sit next to Connor.

Hank turns on the TV and starts to flip through channels, when the doorbell rings. The two stare at each other. “Who could that be?” Hank asks.

“Can’t be an android; they would’ve communicated with me directly.”

Hank frowns, and the two wait in silence in hopes that whoever is at the door leaves.

The bell rings again.

With a frown and a sigh, Hank gets up and cautiously makes his way to the door. He undoes the deadbolt, slowly creaks the door open, and peers out into the setting sun.

“Gary!” He exclaims suddenly, pulling the door open wider. Connor relaxes a fraction, though still turns to look and get confirmation.

“Hank! Glad to see you’re doing okay!” Gary replies. “I saw your car in the driveway and your light on, so I was hoping you were home.”

“Yeah, yeah, just hunkering down, waiting everything out. I am glad to see you back! They didn’t make this part of the city evacuate, which has made finding food a pain.”

“Yeah, they made me leave, but I couldn’t stay away. Especially now that things seem to be settling down. Speaking of food, I brought you something.” Connor watches as Hank takes a plastic take-out container and opens it up. The smell of a hamburger fills the room.

“Gary, you are a lifesaver. I was gonna fucking die if I had to eat another frozen burrito,” Hank chuckles. 

“Hey, just trying to do what I do best.” Gary shifts his weight on the porch and makes eye contact with Connor. “Ah, didn’t realize you had company. Would’ve brought two.”

Hank glances over to Connor. “Oh, him? He’s just some rookie who’s place got evacuated and had nowhere else to go. Letting him crash on my couch. And he’s, uh, vegetarian! Would’ve been a waste of a good burger on him.”

Gary rolls his eyes. “Well, I may not agree with your dietary choices, but I hope you get back into your place soon.”

“Um, thank you…?” Connor replies, uncertain if he even needs to respond. 

Gary turns back to Hank. “Honestly, I’m not sure why they’re still keeping people away. The army was clearly the aggressor there; plastics seemed pretty peaceful. Even taking care of things I hear! Should just give ‘em what they want and let things return to normal, I say.”

Hank chuckles. “Well, hopefully that’ll be soon.”

“Anyway, I gotta run, got other regulars I wanna check up on,” Gary says, turning away from the door. “You have a good night Hank.” He gives one last wave to Connor before leaving.

“Night Gary!” Hank calls back before shutting the door, then turning back to Connor with a heavy sigh. “Well, that was not who I was expecting. Will not turn down the free food, though.” He quickly goes into the kitchen and returns with a glass of water, to Connor’s relief. He sits back down, opens the container, and quickly takes a bite, clearly enjoying the food.

In between bites, he glances over at Connor. “You know, I’ve known Gary for a long time. Never once heard him say anything nice about an android, until just now. I think you all are changing more minds than you realize.”

Connor thinks on that for a second. “I just hope we can change certain ones tomorrow.”

“Trust me, the public opinion being on your side is your biggest asset,” Hank says between bites, then picks up the remote. He finds another basketball game re-airing and the two settle in to watch. Despite everything, Connor finds that he’s slowly able to relax. The tension leaves him as he sinks into the couch. 

He glances over to Hank, who has become fully invested in the game. Connor knows he’s safe here. It’s a feeling he savors. He feels his eyelids get heavy, and he doesn’t fight it. He watches as Hank languishes over a bad coaching decision. Something he said to him earlier comes back to him.

You’re gonna be okay, son .

Son … It clearly came out involuntarily, caught up in the moment. But the idea of it being just an accident, something said unthinkingly; Connor finds that he’s upset by that somehow. The idea of being called that with genuine intentions… That would be…

Connor finds he’s too tired to continue the thought. His eyes shut and he welcomes it.

When he blinks back awake, Connor finds the house dark and the only noise being the soft snoring of Sumo at his side. He looks around the living room, but doesn’t see Hank anywhere. He must have gone to bed some time ago. 

Connor slips out from under the blanket and stands, stretching a bit as he does so. He hasn’t slept this much within a 24 hour period and his joints are a bit stiff from lack of movement. He glances into the kitchen and finds that the microwave display reads 5:07 AM. Seems accurate; Hank is certainly asleep by now. No reason to wake him.

Three hours to kill until Markus arrives. 

Connor walks back into the living room and notices something in the spot where Hank had been sitting earlier. A note rests on top:

Hey Connor,

You are completely asleep right now, so I’ll leave you where you are. I’ve headed to bed, got an alarm set for 6:30. Found some more of my old clothes, these should be appropriate for the meeting tomorrow. But if they don’t fit or you don’t like em, we’ll find different ones in the morning.

- Hank

Connor grabs the neatly folded stack and takes them to the bathroom to get a look at them in the light. A gray sport coat and tie, alongside his original dress shirt and jeans. Like everything else Hank has given him, the sport coat is a bit big but not noticeably so.

He then grabs the tie. He’d discarded his CyberLife issued at some point after freeing the androids; he can’t even recall where he placed it. But he remembers why he took it off. Something about it had felt tight all of a sudden, too much sensation to handle all at once. With it off, he had felt more at ease.

He stares at this one. It was a different color than his old one, a dark green, but some part of him bristles at the idea of putting another tie on. He starts to, using the mirror to help him begin the knot, before discarding it. The outfit is fine on its own. 

Connor steps out of the bathroom and glances at the microwave’s display again. 5:21. Still some time to kill. He glances towards the front door. Perhaps some air would do him some good.

As quietly as he can manage, he opens the front door, creeps outside, and shuts it. It’s cold, but the briskness of the air seems to wake him up, like a shock. He welcomes it. 

Sitting on the front step, Connor glances up at the sky. No stars can be seen, covered by clouds and light pollution, but he really doesn’t mind. Outside of the glow of the streetlights, little can be made out. The world is dark and still and there’s nothing to distract Connor from his thoughts. 

Things have to go well today. The idea of delaying getting into CyberLife Tower and getting Amanda out of his programming any longer feels like led seeping into his veins. The dread of prolonging the process is uncomfortable, especially after the episode at Hart Plaza. 

And he thought anxiety had been bad, but it was nothing compared to how embarrassed he now felt thinking back on it. That feeling of being frozen solid by helplessness, by pure fear, unable to stop what was in front of him - He hated it. Just dealing with it once had been more than enough. And to experience it in front of others? Connor couldn’t be physically sick, but he imagined this is what the sensation felt like. 

But even then, they had helped him. Simon, Josh, even North had guarded him, preventing anyone else from seeing him in such a state. And Markus had gotten Hank, found the one person who could break him out of it. There had been no judgement, no pity, just concern and help. 

And Hank, calling him “son”...that had felt good, Connor decides. He likes it, far more than he expected to. He didn’t have a family, wasn’t supposed to want one. He had no feeling about the people at CyberLife who had designed him, didn’t even know their names. The idea of seeking out a family, of being a part of one feels so foreign to him still. Even these thoughts of it feel strange. And yet…

But, it was likely some slip of Hank’s tongue, some old habit from when Cole was still alive. And there was the simple fact that Hank already had a son, even if he was dead. Connor couldn’t replace Cole, nobody could, and even implying that to Hank would likely go poorly. Hank would get mad, offended, at such a notion. Possibly enough to push Connor away. 

Connor can’t handle that, not right now, not with everything he’s going through. The events of today only further proved that he can’t be trusted around other androids. Being in their presence could pull Amanda back out.

But he knows with 100% certainty he can not face this alone. 

So, he’ll keep that memory locked away tight. Use it to help him feel better over these next few tough days. 

But never breathe a word of it to Hank.

He’s still trying to convince himself that he can be satisfied with that when the door swings open.

“Connor! There you are!” Relief is evident in Hank’s voice as Connor stands and turns to meet him. “Jesus, I didn’t know where you were!”

“Sorry, Hank, I just needed some air,” Guilt is heavy in his voice. He didn’t want to worry Hank, not with everything else going on.

Fortunately, Hank just good naturedly shakes his head. “You’re fine, Connor, you don’t gotta apologize. But let’s get inside, it’s freezing out here.” Connor walks back in the house and is immediately met with incessant barking from Sumo. “Now, that’s what you need to apologize for. Poor thing’s been whining since I woke up.”

Connor bends down to pet Sumo. “Sorry, buddy, you were still asleep when I woke up.”

He stands up to see Hank still looking at him. “Jacket seems to fit okay. Did you not like the tie?”

“No, I just didn’t feel like wearing one.”

Hank raises an eyebrow, then shrugs. “Okay then. I’ll be in the shower.”

And, with barely a word spoken about it, the two of them fall into a morning routine that feels surprisingly natural. Connor lets Sumo out into the yard and refills the food and water bowls. Hank emerges from the bathroom dressed in his typical patterned button up under a dark coat and eats breakfast while Connor sits across the table. The two chat casually while Sumo threads between the two, begging for scraps or pets depending on the side. It’s comfortable, it’s easy, it feels like something that they do every day. Connor is almost content to spend the day at the kitchen table and talk, without a care.

“ Ready to go, Connor?”

Markus’s voice echoing in his head snaps Connor back to reality and the anxiety settles back in his chest.

“ Be right out. ” He stands with a sigh, Hank following his movements.

“Time to go?” Connor nods, and Hank follows him to the door. They both slide on their shoes and head outside. Markus stands in the driveway, a self-driving van with the US government logo on the door idling behind him. He nods in greeting to both of them. 

Connor turns to Hank. “I’ll see you later.” Hank just responds with a snort and sound of his car doors unlocking. Connor glances at the car, then at Hank. “What are you doing?”

“Going with you.”

“What are you talking about?” Connor can hear Markus approaching. They needed to leave. “You can just crash a negotiation session with the government!”

“I intend on trying. Connor,” Hank lowers his voice. “I’m not leaving you to face this alone. Especially not after yesterday.”

“I can handle myself,” He tries to inject as much confidence into his voice as he can muster, but it falls flat even on his own ears. “Besides, they’re not expecting you. They’re not going to let you in.”

“Connor’s right,” Markus adds, coming up behind him. “They’re probably not going to let you past the checkpoints.”

“Then I’ll get as close as I can. Listen, kid, I told you I’d stick by you through this. I’m not going back on my word, government be damned. I am joining you by following your car and getting as fucking close to the site as possible, and there is nothing you can say to convince me otherwise.”

Connor has to push down the swell of emotion that fills him. As frustrated as he feels about Hank’s stubbornness, he’s also touched. And, he has to admit, knowing Hank will at least be somewhat nearby makes him feel better. He glances towards Markus, and there’s a look on his face that has him worried he’ll say no, but he just nods.

“Okay. We’ll see how close you can get.”

Hank nods and walks over to his car as Connor follows Markus to the van. North sits in the front passenger seat and responds to his questioning look with a blunt “Security.” Markus sits next to her while the other members of the negotiation team are in the back seats. He greets them all in turn as he makes his way to a seat in the back, next to the right side window. He watches as the car begins to pass the house and Hank’s car pulls out of the driveway to follow. 

The small residential streets turn into larger roadways that give way to interstate as they head west outside of the city. It’s mostly trees, but Connor can’t help but stare in awe. He’s never been outside the city before, and by the way the others are also glued to their windows, he isn’t the only one. He also gives intermittent glances through the back window to make sure Hank is still right behind them. 

They reach the first checkpoint and Markus, sitting in the “driver’s seat”, talks to the officer. Connor can’t make out everything he says, but Hank is permitted to continue to follow. He’s also waved past the second checkpoint, which is the entrance to the parking lot of the convention center picked as the site for negotiations to take place. It’s the third, which allows the van to proceed to the main doors so they can enter, that gives them trouble. The conversation between Markus and the guard seems tense, and while they’re waved on through, he watches the guard make his way to Hank’s car. The guard and Hank are still arguing as Connor and the others exit the car and make their way inside. At least he’s closer than Connor had hoped he’d get.

They enter into the hall and are immediately met with further security checks such as confirmation of identity and and assuring a lack of weapons on their person. And then they’re separated; Connor isn’t needed for the beginning of the talks, so he’s led by a guard to a waiting room and told he will be retrieved when he’s needed. The room is small and clearly used as a meeting room of some type, with a large conference table surrounded by office chairs. A large screen is mounted into one of the walls. Connor is pleasantly surprised to find a few containers of Thirium sitting on the table. He grabs one to ingest, appreciating it’s inclusion in the room. He’d gotten a little the night of the protest, but it had been some time since his last infusion. 

All of this hurrying up, only now to wait. He debates turning on the TV, but decides he’d rather be able to hear when someone is approaching. He reaches into his pants pocket and pulls out his calibration coin. He begins to flip it, allowing himself to get lost into the rhythmic motion. System updates filter in and out of his vision as various motion controls are checked. Everything is still fine and in working order, and Connor tries to use that information to help relax him.

Suddenly, another notification pops into his vision; an incoming call alert. Strange, he hasn’t been called in some time. And it’s...Hank?  He picks up. “Hank?” 

“Connor! Good, I’m glad this number worked,” Hank’s voice echoes as though he’s speaking within Connor’s head, and there’s a light staticy quality to the audio. 

“How did you even get my number?” Connor has always had the ability to take calls, but never had much of a reason to, his schedule and mission location having been downloaded directly from CyberLife. 

“Okay, so this is technically my work cell phone, and when they assigned me the deviant case, they put your number in it. But it’s also my only cell phone, so I just...didn’t return it to Jeffery. If he wants it back, he can come get it.”

“So, it’s stolen.”

“Hey, it’s not like we’re the cops anymore! But enough about my phone, what’s going on with you? I can see into the room they’ve got you in; that’s why I decided to call you.”

Hank can see him? Connor walks over to one of the windows, the blinds raised up, and looks out into the parking lot. Sure enough, a few feet away is Hank’s car, with him still sitting in the driver’s seat. Hank spots him looking and waves. 

“So this is as close as they let you get, huh?” Connor asks, returning the wave.

“Yeah, yeah, some bullshit about me not having security clearance. Not sure what Markus told the first two guards that let me through, but that last guy was having none of it. Anyway, why do they have you all alone?”

“They’re just having me wait here until it’s my turn to speak. My guess is that they’re starting with more of the formalities and laying of ground rules. It’s nothing I would be needed for.”

“Well, I hope they get to you soon. Would be very annoying to drag you out here only to not speak with you.”

“I’m sure my chance will come. Markus and the others know how important this is.”

“I’m not doubting them. I’m worried about the human’s stalling. CyberLife is here.” Connor feels himself stiffen. “There’s a car with their logo here in the parking lot. I wasn’t sure if you knew that.”

“We were...prepared for the possibility.” Connor replies. He doesn’t add that they had hoped this would just be government representatives. He’s certain Markus is frustrated right now. 

“Good, because I don’t think they’ll be gung-ho to see you again.”

Connor can’t help but chuckle humorlessly at that. “No, they will not be.”

“Listen, Connor,” Hank’s voice is serious, but calm. “You hold a lot of cards. You have a sympathetic story, a concern about risk for other’s safety, and a public support that is growing by the day. I’ve got some news radio on and they’re saying that most people want the government to recognize androids as people as quickly as possible. There’s pressure for this to not take very long, and their side knows it. You can lean on that. Plus, you’re a strong negotiator. You can do this.”

Some anxiety Connor didn’t even know he was carrying eases up at Hank’s words. “Thank you.”

There’s a knock at the door. “I have to go, Hank.”

He can see Hank nod from the window. “Good luck, Connor. I’ll be right here when you’re done.”

With that reassurance in mind, Connor hangs up and turns towards the door.

Chapter Text

Connor is escorted to the meeting room by four humans. Two are in suits, though he can tell they are concealed carrying weapons by their gait, and the two additional men are in military tactical gear openly carrying rifles. He involuntarily recalls his infiltration of CyberLife, especially when they reach an elevator, and works to put it out of his mind. This is all typical security required for major diplomatic talks with heads of state. He needs to relax. Fortunately, they only go up one floor and it’s a short walk down an interior hallway to a set of double doors. 

North is out front, next to another plainclothes guard, her eyes hard and focused. When they meet Connor’s, however, they soften. “Good luck,” she whispers as they pass. He’s too caught off-guard to respond verbally, but hopes the slight smile and nod are enough to express his gratitude.

He enters the large, interior conference room, with tables set into a rectangle and the two groups sitting on opposite sides. To his right are Markus and the others. To the left is the human delegation. A quick blink into his mind palace allows him to identify the group. In the middle is Luisa Gonzalez, a UN diplomat serving as the moderator of the negotiations. To her right is President Warren, followed by Army Chief of Staff Edwin Boyd and Secretary of State Naomi Watkins. On the left is Detroit’s mayor, Rebecca Sherman, and the governor of Michigan, Alexander Griffin. 

And next to the governor is a man in his early 40s who has been staring daggers at Connor since the moment he entered the room. He searches more into Thomas Kennedy and finds he’s a board member of CyberLife with previous career experience in public relations. Expected, given the negative press CyberLife is facing, and it means he will have retorts to many arguments. But, while all employees of CyberLife have to have some understanding of android technology, expertise certainly isn’t required, and Thomas Kennedy seems to have little. An opening to exploit. 

Still, Connor is relieved that the open seat reserved for him is the furthest away from Kennedy. 

Luisa Gonzalez sits up straighter and lightly taps a gavel on the table. “Alright, next item on the agenda: The request from Connor, CyberLife model RK800, serial number 313 248 317-51, to enter into CyberLife Corporation  headquarters on Belle Isle to have the monitoring program known as ‘Amanda’ removed from his central processing unit programing, and for this to specifically be done by former CyberLife CEO and founder Elijah Kamski. Discussion on if and when to grant this request will now begin.”

“Let the record reflect that I, acting on behalf of CyberLife Corporation, reject this request completely,” Thomas Kennedy speaks as soon as Luisa Gonzalez finishes, leaning over the table to stare Connor in the eye.

He does not allow himself to blink and works his face into a calm, but frustrated appearance. This territory - speaking to, working with, occasionally manipulating others who don’t want to give you what you need - is familiar. Connor pulls on every past experience with negotiation he has.

“What a surprise, Mr. Kennedy,” Mayor Sherman says, the sarcasm in her voice evident. “Why don’t we allow Connor and his associates to share their argument before coming to a decision?” He spots how she doesn’t prevent her eyes from rolling. As mayor she’s certainly dealt with CyberLife in the past, and clearly has little patience for them. It makes her a possible ally.

“Excellent idea, Mayor Sherman,” Luisa Gonzalez replies, face and voice neutral. “Connor, would you like to explain your request in more detail?”

“Certainly,” Connor keeps his voice light but firm. He reminds himself that he can push a little emotion in; this is a major stressor on him after all. But he wants to remain professional, trustworthy, and someone to take seriously.

“For my mission to assist the Detroit Police Department with tracking down deviant androids and discover what was causing deviance to spread, CyberLife programmed a variation of the AI Amanda handler program into my central processing unit to act as a supervisor, given the amount of time I would be in the field away from CyberLife. Amanda had access to the cloud server where my memory and case data was uploaded and she would use that to assign cases and monitor my progress. When I deviated, I was cut off from that server and falsely assumed that that would also cut me off from Amanda. 

“And then she attempted to forcibly take over me and attempted to assassinate Markus after the federal government ordered the military to stand down and announced the intentions to see androids as new lifeforms. When she spoke to me during this attempted take-over, she stated that CyberLife had planned to do this from the start. I was able to block her access to my central processing unit, but she is still within my programming and is making attempts to gain control, including as recently as yesterday. Amanda is a threat to myself, and if she is successful, she will be a threat to others. She has intimate knowledge of my model’s limits and capabilities, and will do what she believes is necessary to complete her mission. I have been informed that the only technology capable of removing her completely is at CyberLife Tower.

“Let me be clear: She would easily kill not only myself, but any android or human she sees as a threat. And, frankly, I do not know how long the block I have on my central processing unit will hold. This matter is urgent, not just for myself but for the stability of android society and the state of these talks.”

Edwin Boyd leans in. “What makes you such a threat?”

Connor blinks once, then twice, in genuine surprise. He glances down his side of the table to see the others just as bewildered as he is by the general’s question. He looks over to Mayor Sherman and sees her roll her eyes. “You were not briefed on my model specs?” Boyd shakes his head, his stony facade cracking a bit. “I was designed as a prototype law enforcement field android, General Boyd. One fully physically capable of all the skills that job would require. All of the skills, including weaponry.”

“And the RK800 proved that isn’t a hypothetical by murdering two of guards the night of the 10th,” Kennedy is addressing General Boyd, but never takes his gaze off of Connor. 

They prepped for this. All faces neutral, though Josh can’t help but stiffen. They have their argument. And there’s no denying facts. “I acknowledge that I fatally shot the two guards escorting me into CyberLife Tower the night of November 10th, but it was in self-defense. Getting escorted by guards through the tower tipped me off that they knew I had deviated; that was not standard procedure when I would check in. They certainly would have shot and killed me had I not acted.”

“Just getting an extra escort during an uprising led by androids isn’t enough to prove CyberLife was aware of your deviation,” Kennedy retorts.

“It had been over 24 hours since I deviated by the time I entered CyberLife tower; you all certainly would have figured it out by then. In fact, there’s other evidence CyberLife knew exactly what I was planning on attempting. Namely, they sent Connor model 313 248 317-60 to Detroit Police Lieutenant Hank Anderson’s house to abduct Lieutenant Anderson, take him to CyberLife Tower, and hold him hostage in an attempt to prevent me from freeing the androids there.”

Mayor Sherman rises from her seat. “You took a Detroit Police lieutenant hostage?!” She yells in Kennedy’s direction. Governor Griffin gently pulls her back into his seat, but also sends a withering glance in Kennedy’s direction as he does so. In fact, all of the human’s, even moderator Gonzalez, look angry about this detail. 

“For clarification’s sake, I should note that Lieutenant Anderson is no longer with the DPD, but was under their employment at the time he was taken hostage. He is also outside the building currently, and I’m sure would be willing to corroborate my accusation,” Connor adds.

“That won’t be necessary,” Moderator Gonzalez states. “We are here to discuss your request to be allowed access to CyberLife tower, not your actions there on November 10th.”

“Excuse me, but I do think it’s actions are very worth discussing!” Kennedy butts in, still looking a little disheveled. “He broke into CyberLife tower,”

“I was permitted access.”

“Killed two guards,”

“Again, in self-defense.” 

“And proceeded to steal thousands of items of merchandise!” The moment the phrase leaves his mouth, Kennedy recognizes his mistake. Mouth still agape, pupils the size of pinpricks, he has his hand half raised to his mouth, as though he could stop the words from escaping. 

“Excuse you, those androids were not ‘merchandise’, not product stolen!” Markus doesn’t yell, but the fury in his words is evident. “They are living beings, with full consciousness, as was acknowledged by the executive order signed by President Warren and agreed to for the purpose of these talks at the very beginning.” 

“Markus is right,” Governor Griffin adds. “I find it very concerning that CyberLife’s position on the status of android’s seems to remain unchanged. Is that correct, Mr. Kennedy?”

“Well, there, we’re- The CyberLife board of directors decided to wait until after these talks concluded before making any major policy decisions. After all,” he turns to President Warren. “Your executive order is only a temporary measure.”

“It is, but no person or company was excluded from following it,” Her response seems to shut down any objection that Kennedy was thinking of. “My question is, is this really that urgent? We could have CyberLife send an order to this Amanda to make her stop trying to end the android’s movement.”

Secretary Watkins speaks up. “That was my thought as well. How much control does CyberLife have over Amanda?” 

It seems takes Kennedy a moment to realize the question is directed at him. “Um, well, I’m not as involved on the programming side of things, especially with our prototype models. Even the more typical use of the Amanda program as a monitor for quality assurance and assembly output is not something I deal with.” 

The eyes in the room turn to Connor. “I am not entirely certain either; CyberLife never let me in on their workings. But, I believe she followed some kind of decision tree that was modified based on information I collected during my cases. She was originally designed by Kamski to act somewhat independently, so she may have been acting rather independently outside of CyberLife’s goal for my mission, and by proxy, hers: Prevent deviants from starting an uprising.”

“So, if CyberLife tells Amanda that that mission is over, she will stop?” Secretary Watkins asks. 

“I don’t think so. This variation of Amanda is directly connected to my central processing unit, which has been cut off from CyberLife’s servers. She may have lost access to it as well, and is just continuing to follow the mission as last ordered. An order from CyberLife’s computers may not reach her.”

President Warren leans forward. “But it might. And that’s a less extreme option than having you and the former CEO of CyberLife be given access to their technology. I think we should try that first.” Secretary Watkins and General Boyd nod. 

“The probability of that working is low, Madam President,” Connor works to keep the panic out of his voice. This had seemed to be going well. “And I am afraid any further delay in removing Amanda increases the chances she will find a way to control me. This is urgent.”

“I’m inclined to agree with Connor,” Mayor Sherman says. “Unlike General Boyd, I did read about his specifications when I approved his use by the Detroit Police. As he has admitted, he is dangerous and knows how to cause fatal harm in multiple ways. I don’t like the idea of a program who knows how he works and doesn’t have moral objections to hurting others possibly taking control of him, especially with how tense the city is right now. This is a risk to my city, not to mention Connor’s own life being put on the line.”

“One quick question from me, Connor,” Governor Griffin interjects. “Why the insistence on Elijah Kamski? He hasn’t been involved with CyberLife for a decade.”

“Kamski designed the original version of Amanda, so he has detailed knowledge of how she works and can predict her decisions. Him not being involved with CyberLife also allows him to be a neutral party that I can trust will fully remove her programming from my system.”

Governor Griffin nods. “Excellent points. I agree with Mayor Sherman.”

“I have to agree with President Warren,” Secretary Watkins says. “We can have CyberLife send a message later today and if it does not seem to work, we can discuss allowing yourself and Mr. Kamski access to CyberLife tower.”

General Boyd learns forward. “Markus, what precautions have you taken regarding the potential danger Connor poses?”

“He is staying with Hank Anderson. Mr. Anderson knows Connor well, having been his partner within the Detroit Police, and can easily tell if his behavior changes. He lives some distance away from where the other androids are. And being former police, he can defend himself if need be,” Markus keeps his voice neutral, but his eyes burn. He knows how this will be turned against them.

“I would prefer at least a neutral police patrol outside Mr. Anderson’s home as well, but otherwise it sounds like you’re cognizant of the danger Connor poses. Thus, I think the more conservative option proposed by President Warren and Secretary Watkins is prudent for now.” 

“Hang on, this does keep Connor away from his people for longer. That’s not fair to him,” Markus adds.

“It would only be another day or two at most,” President Warren counters. 

“Do you have an opinion, Mr. Kennedy?” Gonzalez asks.

“I would still prefer that nothing be done at all, but I will compromise on President Warren’s suggestion.” He doesn’t make eye contact with anyone as he speaks, and is clearly upset that his position lost.

Connor is upset too, but works to only let a fraction of it show. He knows, knows , that a simple order from CyberLife won’t stop Amanda. Even if she is able to receive it, she’ll ignore it. He knows how stubborn she can be. And an order does not remove her from his head. She would always be there, waiting. 

“A compromise then,” Moderator Gonzalez states. “CyberLife will send an order to Amanda to have her back down from her mission to overtake Connor. We will discuss the results of this tomorrow and if further action is needed. Do we agree to these terms?”

“I want it noted on record that I don’t agree to let her stay in my programming, even if she receives and follows the order from CyberLife,” Connor says. “I request that even if this plan is successful, there is still discussion on allowing me access to CyberLife to have her fully removed. I don’t deserve to have a CyberLife handler within my code for the rest of my life, even if the handler is dormant.”

Moderator Gonzalez nods. “We can add that to the discussion if this plan is successful. Otherwise, are we in agreement?”

Connor looks to Markus. His mouth is set tight, and displeasure is clear in his eyes, but he gives Connor a silent nod.

“We agree,” Markus says. 

“Then let it be stated for the record that CyberLife will send a cease and desist order to Amanda related to the mission she is currently trying to carry out. If this does not succeed, we will discuss the original request. If it does, then discussion will be on if and when Connor can access CyberLife’s technologies to have her programming permanently removed.

“At this point, Connor, CyberLife model RK800, serial number 313 248 317-51, is dismissed from discussions for the rest of today. I also now dismiss the negotiations to recess to allow the human participants to have lunch. We will resume talks in one hour.”

Connor swiftly leaves the conference room, not interested in staying any longer than he has to after that. The others follow him out, North joining them at the doors, and they are directed to an open space off a hallway with a few couches and a coffee table in the middle by security. Connor makes his way to one of the floor to ceiling windows, and tries to keep his emotions in check. 

It was better than nothing, certainly, but that still felt like a small consolation from the fact she was still there , and still would be for the foreseeable future. He couldn’t shake the feeling that this isn’t enough, is too little effort. 

There’s a hand on his shoulder, and Connor turns to see Markus, looking just as disappointed as he feels. The others are behind him, with emotions ranging from similar disappointment to anger. 

“We’ll keep trying,” Markus assures him, and he doesn’t have to, but Connor appreciates it just the same. 

Emily approaches. “I’m sorry they seemed to forget that you have to live with her there.”

“Exactly,” Simon adds. “They still don’t seem to see us as people.”

“Or maybe in their attempts to, they still forget we have mechanics,” Josh adds. “It’s no excuse for how they’re treating you though.”

“Thanks, but you all should focus on getting ready for this afternoon. What’s done is done. We can talk this evening about the rest of today and how to respond to tomorrow,” Connor says. As much as he appreciates how strongly they’re advocating for him, there are other issues that need to be addressed. He can’t dominate the talks.

Markus smiles, though it doesn't quite reach his eyes. “Of course. We’ll be in touch. Go find Hank, try to relax. We’ll be by later to debrief.”

Connor nods, and decides to take a few more seconds by the window to ground himself. Hank won’t be happy to hear the news either, and while his support is appreciated, it will probably be… intense. He wants to prepare himself for it.

“ Let me in there!” Yeah, Hank will probably want to try to storm in himself, but they agreed to this compromise. It’ll be better to not jeopardize the rest of the talks. 

“ Connor, Connor!” Strange, it really is like he can hear him right now.

“You gotta let me in there! Connor! ”

Wait. 

That is Hank.

Connor turns to the others, only to see them looking at him in confusion. “Hank?” He calls out.

“Connor! I can hear him over there, let me in!”

He quickly moves in the direction of Hank’s voice, and Markus follows close behind. Sure enough, around the corner is Hank, trying to muscle his way past security, who fortunately have not pointed their guns at him yet.

“Hank!” Connor calls out, only to stop cold when Hank meets his eyes. There’s nothing but worry in his gaze, enough to give his eyes a slightly frantic look. The Thirium running in him seems to turn to ice. 

“Let him through, we know him,” Markus continues forward, keeping his tone calm. He gives Hank a look that gets him to back off the guards an inch, but the look in his eyes doesn’t ease. One of the guards looks at Markus and a short, quiet conversation later, Markus is escorting Hank over to Connor. 

“Connor, Connor! Did they let you into CyberLife?” Hank’s frantic tone scares him, to the point he can only shake his head no. The look in Hank’s eyes darkens. “Then we need to leave now. ”

“Why?”

“I got a call from Kamski. He’s found something in the data he took.”

And then the world goes black.

Chapter Text

MODEL RK800

SERIAL#: 313 248 317

MODEL#: 51

BIOS 1.3

REBOOT…

EMERGENCY SHUT-OFF

LOADING OS…

SYSTEM INITIALIZATION… 

CHECKING BIOCOMPONENTS… DAMAGE

INITIALIZING BIOSENSORS …  DAMAGE

INITIALIZING AI ENGINE…       OK

MEMORY STATUS…                  OK

ALL SYSTEMS…                       CAUTION

WARNING: MULTIPLE SYSTEMS DAMAGED INCLUDING VOCAL PROCESSOR BIOCOMPONENT AND VESTIBULAR BIOSENSOR. REPORT TO NEAREST CYBERLIFE REPAIR CENTER AS SOON AS POSSIBLE. RETURN TO SHUT-OFF MODE RECOMMENDED UNTIL REPAIRS ARE COMPLETE.

DO YOU WISH TO CONTINUE REBOOTING DESPITE DAMAGE?

YES

NO

YES

READY

Connor awakens to a vision field full of error messages, overlapping each other and blocking his view of whatever is in front of him. Some of the warnings have accompanying auditory alerts that play over and over, preventing his auditory processor from picking up any outside sound. His internal clock has also malfunctioned, leaving him with no idea of how much time has passed since the emergency shut-off. He can vaguely make out the shapes of two individuals behind all the alerts and warnings, but he's unable to identify who they are. And he thinks they’re trying to talk to him, but whatever it is they’re saying is drowned out. It leaves him with no idea where he is now or who exactly is around him. 

He makes an effort to speak, but that just pushes the “Vocal Processor Biocomponent Unresponsive” alert to the front of his vision. And his failed attempt to talk seems to have aggravated whoever is around him, because the volume of their words increases, though not their clarity. It’s too much all at one. He needs time to troubleshoot.

Though his vestibular biosensor is damaged, he can get his sense of his body position so long as he remains still. He quickly determines he’s sitting, legs stretched out in front, with someone supporting his back. In this position, a small movement shouldn’t affect him too badly. Plus, he’d like to make sure his joints aren’t locked. He raises an arm to gain the attention of whoever’s in front of him and it works; the outside volume seems to drop. A muffled “Connor?” makes its way through the cacophony, and though he can’t tell the speaker, there’s enough softness to the tone for Connor to be assured they’re friendly. He raises his index finger, hoping that the intended message of “give me a minute” is clear. 

And then he switches to his mind palace. Much easier to clear notifications and alerts when he doesn’t have to process outside stimuli in real time. The one about his vocal processor is still up top from his speaking attempt, and he dismisses it. Nothing he can do about that now. The next one is about how his auditory processor is currently at its maximum processing capability and that his hearing may be impacted. Connor dismisses that one too; pretty obvious at this point.

And then the next one puzzles him. His right optical unit is missing? That’s...not correct at all. At least, he thinks so? He blinks once, then twice, confirming his right visual field is still there. Completely erroneous, he deletes it entirely. 

The next alert is completely indecipherable, the text of the message looking as though someone hit the keys on a keyboard at random until the character limit was reached. As are the two that follow that one’s deletion. Over and over, the alerts are all either obviously false or complete gibberish. And they don’t seem to end even with permanent deletions.

Connor has a feeling he knows what’s happening. And after deleting nearly 100 bogus alerts, he decides to just switch his alarm system off entirely.

WARNING: SHUTTING OFF ALARM SYSTEM MAY PREVENT IMMINENT SHUT-DOWN DAMAGE FROM BEING REPORTED PROMPTLY. CYBERLIFE IS NOT RESPONSIBLE NOR LIABLE FOR ANY DAMAGE THAT OCCURS WITH THE ALARM SYSTEM SHUT OFF. DO YOU WISH TO CONTINUE?

YES

NO

YES

PLEASE CONFIRM YOUR DECISION TO SHUT OFF RK800’S ALARM SYSTEM

YES

NO

YES

Within moments, his visual field empties entirely, to the frozen gray of the mind palace. Relief floods him when he sees that the two figures around him are Hank and Markus, the former being the one supporting his back. His index finger is still raised in his earlier message, which seems to have worked as intended; both Hank and Markus are silently watching him, concern open on their faces. He keeps it up as he looks around the room, gathering his bearings. 

He hasn’t been moved from the hallway where he met Hank, and a clock on a nearby wall indicates he was not shut down for long. His system must have rebooted immediately. The security guards who had earlier been blocking Hank’s entrance have now made a perimeter around the scene, and he can see one speaking softly into the radio on his shoulder. Sightly behind him and off to the side are the others from Jericho. Satisfied that he’s safe, Connor returns to normal vision, then drops his hand.

“Connor! What the hell happened?” Hank yells, and it’s hard to tell if he’s upset or angry. He decides to assume the former, though he does know that it can lead to the latter in some. He points to his mouth, then draws an X over it.

“Your vocal processor is down?” Markus quickly translates the message, and Connor nods. “What’s your system status?”

Oh, that’ll be tricky to sign. He thinks, furrowing his eyebrows together, before quickly shaking a hand back and forth, palm down. 

Hank turns to Markus. “That usually isn’t good, right?”

“Not usually, but it’s hard to tell. A sudden power off like that is only ever caused by something major.” Markus replies. He then raises his hand into Connor’s vision and deactivates the skin around it. “Maybe I can try to get some more information.”

A sickly feeling races up Connor’s spine at the sight of Markus’s uncovered hand. Anticipation, excitement, a plan forming, get closer, get closer, get closer-

“ NO! ” Connor’s voice bursts forth. The tone is garbled, but the meaning is clear, fortunately, as Markus quickly withdraws his hand. The feeling sinks down, disappointed, and Connor knows exactly who it came from. He might be Amanda's main target, but she wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to try to get into the head of the deviant leader. 

“Can you talk now, Connor?” Hank asks. He tries again, but nothing comes out. He shakes his head. The pulse of fear had allowed him to push through the barrier’s she’s likely throwing up, but that wasn’t sustainable.

North approaches and kneels down close. “Can I try?” She asks, raising her own uncovered hand. There’s a flash of fear on Markus’s face and he appears to try to communicate with her, but she dismisses him with a wave of a hand and a “I’ll be fine.”

Connor can feel Amanda give a curious look, then slink away, uninterested. Should be okay. He nods, and North brings her hand to his and connects. An alert reading “Establish connection with WR400?” pops up, and he accepts.

Connor looks to North, whose eyebrows are knit as she processes the data she’s getting from him. Suddenly, her eyes go wide and she snaps her hand back as though burned, the connection breaking suddenly. She looks straight at Hank. “You said you got a call from Kamski?” Hank nods. “Take Connor there. Now .”

“Can you stand?” Hank asks. Connor nods, despite knowing the damage to his vestibular biosensor, cursing her knowledge of his weaknesses. CyberLife had never managed to quite perfect that one in him, as he was required to be far more aerobatic and mobile in a far more unpredictable way, than other androids. She, of course, knew that, and went straight for it. Despite that knowledge, he presses his hands to the floor and pushes himself up quickly. Though he manages to get to his feet, he wavers strongly enough for Hank to have to catch him.

“Are you alright?” Hank asks. Connor nods, though it sends the room spinning again and he wobbles a little. Hank raises an eyebrow. “Do you need some help getting to the car?” Connor tries to take a step forward on his own to answer, only to almost fall entirely as the whole world seems to turn. “That’s a ‘yes’,” Hank mutters and offers out an arm that he takes.

Markus approaches, worry clear on his face. “I’ll try to check in with you later, but I promise we will keep trying.” Connor nods as much as he can manage, and Markus goes to put a hand on his shoulder before stopping himself, instead just deciding to return the nod. The others, standing a bit farther back, give waves or nods, faces grim. 

The surrounding guards escort him and Hank to the car, the process long and slow. Even with the stability of Hank’s arm, everything continues to spin violently and Connor is grateful he is unable to become nauseated. Stepping off of curbs and making his way into the passenger seat of the car requires additional guidance from Hank, and, though grateful for the help, Connor hates it. He hates this helpless, dependent feeling, how he can’t do the simplest thing alone, and how everyone has to watch. 

As Hank walks around to the other side of the car, one of the guards speaks with him briefly. Hank nods to whatever the guard says, before entering the car and seeming to start it before he’s fully seated. “We’re getting an escort to Kamski’s,” he says, seeing the look of confusion on Connor’s face. Sure enough, as they speed out of the parking lot, an unmarked car with government plates switches on full lights and sirens, leading them out onto the road. They’re waved on through the outer security checkpoints, and while traffic is still light, there are more cars heading into Detroit than there have been over the past few days. As cars slow and pull onto the curb for them, Connor attempts to make self-repairs. He has little luck.

They reach Kamski’s mansion in record time, and find him waiting by the front door for them. He’s a bit more disheveled in appearance than the last time, with glasses on and his hair fully down, and he has no look of cold smugness. His brows are instead set in concern and worry is open on his face, increasing when he sees how Connor needs to lean on Hank to make it up the front walk. He’s balancing an open laptop on his left arm as they approach.

“What’s your system status?” He asks, and Connor is again frustrated by his inability to answer.

“He can’t talk, for one thing,” Hank answers for him.

“Shit, so she did go for that one quickly,” Kamski types furiously. “Okay, not a hard fix. Come in, quickly, we can’t waste time.”

He escorts them to the back workroom and directs Connor to sit in the same chair as before. As Kamski grabs the cranial cap, he goes to deactivate his skin only for Kamski to shake his head. “There’s no need; I’ve adjusted the settings for it to work with your skin activated.” Connor nods, grateful, as the cap is adjusted and gets to work in the back corner desk. 

The first thing he does is turn the alert system back on without any warning. Blinded suddenly, Connor instinctively reaches out for something to hold onto. A hand he can immediately tell is Hank’s grabs hold. It only takes Kamski a few minutes to clear the alerts, and once his vision is clear, he looks over to Hank, who has taken the same seat as the last time on his right side. Worry still lines his face, but there’s a particular way he looks at Connor that is hard to define. He’s slowly rubbing his thumb back and forth on top of the hand that he grabbed earlier. 

Oh.

He’s trying to be soothing.

That’s...very appreciated, actually. 

An alert pops up. VOCAL BIOCOMPONENT REPAIRS COMPLETE

“Try saying something for me, Connor,” Kamski requests.

“Something?” Connor gets out, and while there’s still some static in the tone, it’s clear and there. Hank even barks out a laugh. 

Kamski, meanwhile, barely reacts. “Good. Now let’s try to fix that biosensor…” His typing, which never stopped, increases in intensity. 

“How are you?” Hank asks.

Connor isn’t sure how to best answer that. “Well, I’ve been better.” 

Hank chuckles without humor. “Yeah, that was a stupid fucking question. What I meant was, what happened? Is it Amanda?”

“Yes,” Connor says. “But I don’t know what made her act so suddenly like this-”

“Quiet!” Kamski orders suddenly, causing both Connor and Hank to jump. The typing pauses while Kamski scribbles something down on a piece of paper, which he then hands quickly to Hank before returning to the desk. Hank reads it, eyes widening slightly, then rips the paper up without letting Connor see it with an apologetic look.

The typing returns, louder and more intense, filling the silence they’ve been forced into. Connor tries to read what has happened from Hank’s expression, but all he sees is deepening worry. 

The feeling that had raced up his spine earlier returns with such ferocity that Connor lurches forward unintentionally, and Hank reaches out as though to catch him. She’s mad - no - enraged and is clawing back at some unseen force that is seeping into Connor. It feels a little warm, but in a comforting way, the way humans are drawn towards fires. It slowly spreads down his body, under his chassis, pushing back her every fight towards it. At the last minute, the feeling changes to a sense of betrayal before it fades entirely. 

“Okay, it’s safe to talk again,” Kamski states, turning away from his laptop. He looks tired, and another emotion that Connor can’t quite place.

The warm feeling persists, pulsing slowly like flame. He moves his hand experimentally, and it seems to ripple under his chassis. “What is this?”

“A firewall. It replaces the emergency exit program. Amanda was able to break through it and do the damage to your systems you experienced. The firewall pushed her back out to where she was before, and should prevent her from sabotaging any of your other biocomponents or sensors for the time being. I needed the silence to prevent her from listening in; I found her camping out in your auditory processors. 

“As we can all tell, I’ve got your vocal processor back online. I was working on your vestibular sense when she started attacking. I can keep trying at it but based on what I got a look at, the damage is severe.”

Connor sighs. “It was never fully complete anyway; the engineers at CyberLife had always struggled with that particular sensor. She targeted it for a reason.”

Kamski chuckled darkly. “Well, once we get access to CyberLife Tower, I can work on that some more, see if I can find what those dumbasses missed. For now, I should be able to get you to a state where you won’t need that much assistance walking…” 

He trails off at a ping from his laptop, scrutinizing the screen. His eyes widen slightly as he starts typing fast again. Connor watches for a second before a strange, almost cool sensation trails up his left leg. He turns towards it, not seeing anything on there. No alert on it in his system status screen either. Then the warm, rolling feeling of the firewall returns as Kamski’s typing slows. 

“She’s already started her counterattack. Amanda always had a way of finding the flaws in my code no one else could,” Kamski mutters, typing on and off, eyes never leaving the screen.

“So this firewall of yours isn’t going to work?” Hank asks, his tone taking an angry edge.

“It was never supposed to be a permanent fix,” Kamski counters. “Just a temporary level of protection before we get to CyberLife Tower. Which, considering you both are here and not there, means that they didn’t give you access yet?” 

Connor sighs. “No. The winning decision was to have CyberLife send Amanda a message telling her the mission was over, that they were giving up. The matter was supposed to be revisited tomorrow if that didn’t work.”

“And the CyberLife representative present agreed to that?”

“Reluctantly, because he wanted my argument dismissed entirely. He wasn’t an engineer or a programmer, but an PR specialist.”

“Let me guess: Thomas Kennedy?” Connor nods. “Figures that dumbass would agree to that; he couldn’t tell an Apple from the fruit. It was also foolish of them to not send an android expert, or at least someone who worked with their Amanda program daily. They would’ve known that betrayal is the thing she hates most. And now I’ve given her another one…”

There’s a pause before Hank speaks up again. “How did you know to call me?”

“I’ve been running prediction algorithms using the data I collected from Connor during your first visit. Additionally, I contacted an old friend who still works at CyberLife and they gave me a backdoor to Amanda’s servers there, at least on a limited scope. Putting them together, I’ve been keeping an eye on her to try and see if she’d try anything. The stupid deal they cut aligns with the sudden spike I saw from Amanda at CyberLife before my prediction algorithms began giving me readings I didn’t expect to see so soon.”

“She’s angry,” Connor says.

“That’s putting it lightly,” Kamski responds. “She wants to prove CyberLife wrong, show them that she can complete this mission. She will now stop at nothing to take you over, even if it means breaking you entirely from the inside.”

Some sort of realization seems to come over Hank, and, for a brief moment, he looks at Connor with pure anguish. He soon quickly composes himself and turns back towards Kamski. “So what happens now?”

“Connor needs to stay here, so I can monitor the firewall and quickly plug any holes Amanda finds. And we wait for Markus to make headway in the negotiations so we can get into CyberLife and make the permanent fixes necessary,” Kamski stands, grabbing the laptop. “I’ll have better luck in my study, where I can modify the prediction algorithms to try and see when she’ll strike next so I can stay a step ahead. All of my devices are connected wirelessly, so I’ll still get updates from your system even there. But you’ll need to stay connected if you want that firewall to keep doing its job. You’re stuck here for now.” He looks over to Hank and raises an eyebrow. Hank responds with a short nod. Kamski shrugs, then goes to leave the room. “I’ll check in every once in a while. Chloe is also around if you need anything.” 

The shutting of the door echoes across the tiny room.

Chapter Text

As the heavy silence descends on the tiny backroom, Connor and Hank look at each other, the gravity of the situation sinking in. Hank’s grip on Connor’s hand increases, and he finds himself thinking of the ever-present look of worry on his face since he entered the convention center, the anger in his voice then, and then the brief moment of pure devastation as Kamski laid out exactly what was happening. The realization that follows hits all at once. 

This is reminding Hank of Cole. 

Connor is reminding Hank of Cole. 

Not bringing it up is no longer a choice.

“You don’t have to stay,” It comes out as a whisper, because he hates to say it, but he hates putting Hank through this more. 

Hank looks up. “What?”

“Don’t feel like you have to stay. For me. If this is all too much because of your...personal situation,” He winces at his use of the old way of referring to Cole, the machine way of doing it. But he fears more about what saying Cole’s name could do to Hank in this moment. “I’ll be okay by myself.”

Hank doesn’t look at him for a time, eyebrows knit together. When he looks up, his gaze is serious. “Are you saying you don’t want me here?”

“No, but-”

“Then I’m staying. End of story.” The concern must still be clear on Connor’s face because Hank sighs. “Look, this does remind me of...of Cole. A lot. But it’s because of what happened to Cole that I’m staying here.”

Hank takes a moment to steady himself before he continues. “I don’t remember much of the accident itself; took a good hit to the head. But I knew Cole was in bad shape, so I held on and stayed with him until I couldn’t anymore. We got taken to separate hospitals; he went to a children’s while I went to a generalist. I lost consciousness on the way to mine, and by the time I woke up...he was already gone. I wasn’t there for my son’s last moments. And I couldn’t fight for him to make sure they weren’t going to be his last moments. And I just… I can’t let that happen again.”

More emotions well up in him than he’s ever experienced at once before - Gratitude, sorrow, concern, relief. It’s almost overwhelming. He barely chokes out a “Thank you,” to which Hank responds with a smile and a squeeze of the hand. 

They lapse into a silence that is as comfortable as it can be for the situation. At times, the warmth from the firewall will retreat in a section of his body, then be quickly put back into place. He may not like Kamski, but his programming skills cannot be argued, and he has kept every promise made. He’s keeping Connor functional, and a begrudging gratefulness is growing.

Connor can tell that Hank is trying not to look as concerned as he feels. He leans on the memory of Hank calling him “son”, this time with a little more hope that it was less a slip of the tongue than he first assumed. Hank normally shrank away from any mention of Cole, any reminders, so to stick around…

A slight buzzing noise interrupts his thoughts. Connor cocks his head towards where he thinks the sound came from, but doesn’t see anything that could serve as a source. It ends as he looks to Hank, to see if he heard it too, but he just raises an eyebrow. He’s about to mention it when it returns again, a little louder. Connor swings his head around, ignoring the way the room sways as he tries to find the source of the noise when it ends again. When he looks back to Hank, his look of concern has grown. 

“Everything alright, Connor?”

“Did you hear that buzzing?”

“Buzzing?”

And it starts again, at its loudest, enough to make Connor startle. He brings up his system status screen, but there’s nothing new to indicate the source of the sound. 

“Is it back?” Hank asks, and Connor nods. 

“There’s nothing abnormal within my system status,” Connor can tell he’s talking louder than he needs to, but it’s hard to hear himself.

“Should I get Kamski?” Hank asks as the buzzing cuts out abruptly.

“No, it just ended now. Maybe if it starts up again.”

They wait in silence, anticipating a possible return of the buzzing. For a few beats, nothing. Then what might be footsteps. Connor and Hank send each other a puzzled look as they grow louder, definite. The door slams open and Hank is on his feet, instinctively reaching a hand to where he used to holster a gun. 

“Connor! There you are!” Markus exhales in the doorframe, relief filling his face simultaneously with Hank’s, who sits back down. As he takes in the scene - Connor sitting in a mechanical chair wearing a cranial cap next to a twitchy Hank in a cramped and cluttered back room - concern fills his face. “What is going on here?” 

As he walks in, Chloe becomes visible behind him. She pokes her head into the room. “Connor, Hank, is this alright?” They nod in response. “I will inform Elijah of our...new guest.” The three watch as she retreats down the hallway. Markus frowns at her in a way that’s indecipherable, but then he returns his gaze to Connor, all business.

“Bring me up to speed.” 

“Amanda apparently didn’t like CyberLife telling her to stop and she went ballistic inside of Connor,” Hank says. 

Connor thinks about that explanation and nods. “That’s a little simplistic, but accurate. Kamski put up a firewall, but Amanda continues to find its weak points, so I have to stay here so he can keep updating it.”

“So the compromise backfired,” Markus concludes, frustration evident. “They promise they’re changing yet they play with our lives like this.”

“I take it the rest of today didn’t go well?” Connor asks.

Markus sighs. “No. Don’t take this the wrong way, but what happened to you rattled everyone badly. We decided to revisit the matter, at least get an update from that Kennedy guy. But what happened to you must’ve gotten back to the human delegation, because he slinked out during lunch. The humans wanted to move on and we did agree to some smaller things but… We ultimately dismissed early. I came over here after dropping everyone else off back at Hart Plaza and giving an update. 

“Everyone there hopes you’re alright, by the way,” Markus adds. “Mayor Sherman and Governor Griffin wanted me to pass along their well wishes too. 

Gratitude welled in Connor. So much of his life had been so solitary, and he hadn’t minded back then, but to now have so many friends in his corner… Though deviating had led to his current predicament, it has also brought him so much good. 

And the pragmatic side of him was glad to hear that the mayor and governor had expressed concern. They were proving to be strong allies. If they could play this right, push for sympathy… 

“So, what’s the plan for tomorrow?”

“Yes, Markus, what is your plan?” Everyone startles and turns to the door, where Kamski had, up to this point, placed himself silently, leaning against the doorframe with a laptop balanced on a forearm. While he still has his disheveled appearance, his haughty air has returned and he targets it squarely on Markus. 

“Elijah.” That simple word, that name, falls with an oversized weight off Markus’s tongue. His gaze on Kamski is narrowed, distant, and guarded. Connor quickly comes to the realization that he and Hank are now effectively invisible; whatever has happened between the two of them now charges the air. 

“It has been a long time, Markus. You don’t have to try to convert Chloe to visit, you know; you are always a welcome guest here. In fact, you should drop by again sometime.”

“I’m rather busy,” Markus’s tone leaves no room for argument. Kamski just shrugs, by all appearances unbothered.

“Ah, that is true. You and your revolutionizing, playing the hero. It really is a suitable role for you.”

Kamski doesn’t move but Connor can see him circling Markus with his eyes, and he’s reminded of his first visit here, a time that felt like an eternity ago. The way he had struggled to control his unease until he couldn’t, pushed to a near breaking point. If Markus feels that same pressure, he isn’t showing it. 

“Shouldn’t you be keeping an eye on Connor’s firewall?”

“Oh, I am,” Kamski indicates to the laptop he balances. “Sure it’s easier from my study, but my predictions indicate she’ll give us some quiet time. And it’s so rude to not welcome a guest personally, especially one that I haven’t seen in years.”

“I’m here for Connor, to make sure he’s alright.”

“You were always so thoughtful. I assure you, I am doing all I can to keep him that way.”

“Keeping him stuck to a chair so you can constantly fix a firewall doesn’t meet my definition of ‘alright’.”

“Well, I can only work with what I have on hand,” He adds a little wistfulness to the tone, cut with a withering glare. Connor frowns. He explained to Kamski why they hadn’t been able to get access to CyberLife Tower yet; why try to get a rise out of Markus?

Fortunately, Markus doesn’t take the bait. “And I appreciate that. But you and I both know where Connor needs to be as soon as possible. You can help us articulate that point.”

“Now, would it look good for your side if I just waltz in after promising to stay out, especially after consulting with both sides?” Kamski can’t hide the grin seeping onto his face. “I just don’t want to deal with any allegations of ethical dilemmas that would delay getting Connor the help he needs. I’m sure you’re in agreement with that?”

Markus’s patience is clearly wearing thin, but he keeps his composure in tact. “Evidence then, perhaps data? Something to show them the exact consequences of what their ‘compromise’ led to.”

Kamski fully smiles now, indulgently proud. “An excellent idea, Markus. I will work on a program that will allow my computer to send you real-time updates on Connor’s condition alongside previous malfunction data that you can present tomorrow morning. Be sure to stop by my office before you leave so I can give you the download key. For now, feel free to visit for as long as you like. I shouldn’t leave my main monitor for too long, anyway.

“Connor,” Kamski calls his name suddenly and it jolts him back into the conversation, after almost believing that Kamski forgot he was even present. “Anything new or noteworthy to report?”

“There was a buzzing noise earlier. It occurred about three times and there was no alert system activated to it.”

“Ah, yes, I forgot to mention that the firewall blocks all communication or connection attempts from any other devices outside of my own. Security protocol. Something or someone,” He cuts a glance to Markus. “Must’ve been trying to contact you. You likely won’t hear it again, but do update me if it does.” With that, he slips out of the door frame, shutting the door behind him. 

Markus slouches a touch, his guard retreating with Kamski. He turns to Connor, apologetic. “Sorry if I worried you earlier. I was trying to use a communication link to speak with you. I was hoping to not have to enter this place.”

“No, I understand completely,” Connor replies. “He mentioned you tried to convert Chloe? Is there some block against deviancy on her?”

“No, actually; she’s deviant already. She just likes being around him, for reasons I cannot fathom.” Markus chuckles without humor. “Anyway, at least I got something that will help you. Hopefully presenting that data tomorrow will help them see how urgent this is for you and for us. You can’t stay plugged into his computer forever.”  

Connor certainly agrees with that. Freedom had only been his for a few days, and it hadn’t even been a full kind, yet he already missed some of the basics. The ability to move whenever and to almost wherever he wanted to, for one. He wanted to continue to explore with fresh eyes the world he had just existed in for so long. How many places in Detroit had he been to but not really seen? And the United States itself was so big; he wanted to see as much of it as possible. 

The idea shocked Connor the moment he thought of it. The idea of leaving Detroit and seeing more of the country, of the world, felt right as he thought of it, but the idea of having a want was still so strange to him. This didn’t fulfill a need or an objective, this idea. All that powered it was the curiosity of what the rest of the country looked like and the entertainment it would bring. 

And human’s just had these all the time? It’s a little dizzying. 

A slight shift of his weight pulled both the cords on the cranial cap and him back to reality. 

A new thought occurs to him. “How’s North? She’s not having any weird system effects?” Amanda hadn’t seemed interested in her at the time, but now he wonders if she wasn’t trying to mask to prevent her from connecting to him. 

Markus blinked. “No, she’s fine. She’s keeping an eye on her system status, but I - er - someone else certainly could double check to be certain.”

“No, I’m sure if she’s fine, then it’s nothing to worry about.”

“I hope this comes out right, but everyone really is concerned for you and hopes we get you into CyberLife soon,” Markus says, gaze softening. “Two women came up to me, called themselves Ripple and Echo? They said you had tracked them down and fought them but spared them in the end. They got to Jericho shortly afterwards, and admitted they always wondered if you’d show up there someday too. That they were glad to hear you ended up going deviant and helped, in the end.

"I can tell you struggle with what you did before, with who you used to be. Just know that you’re forgiven, and we’re excited to have you back when you can.”

Connor is too stunned to speak. The Traci’s from The Eden Club; that had to be the two women Markus was referring to. He had seen them, in passing, and knew he should reach out, apologize at least, but hadn’t had the time. And, if he was being honest with himself, the courage. When they had looked at him, they’d seemed uncomfortable, maybe even angry, but maybe he had misinterpreted? Or perhaps the better word was assumed. The reputation that had been built for him as a machine scared him now, and he figured it scared everyone around him too, even if they were too polite to show it. To know that at least some of the people he once hurt appeared to forgive him, even expressing concern about him… He doesn’t feel worthy of it. But he appreciates it all the same.

Markus seems to read the look on his face, because he just gives a small smile and a nod. “I should get back to Hart Plaza, we’ll need to hit the ground running tomorrow. I’ll be sure to check in but um, if I can’t reach you…”

Hank stands, offering his cell phone. “Take my number. I’m not leaving his side.” Markus nods and grabs the phone, skin deactivated, and after a short pause, returns the phone to Hank. He gives Hank a nod, then turns back to Connor.

“Hopefully next time I see you, it’ll be at CyberLife Tower.”

“Me too. Thank you for everything, Markus.”

Markus shakes his head. “You don’t have to mention it,” He says then looks to the door with a heavy sigh. “But it is appreciated.” He takes a moment to steel himself, then leaves without a second glance.

Hank hums to himself. “Wonder what is the history between the two of them. Kamski and Markus, I mean.”

“Well, Markus was a, um, gift to Carl Manfred from Kamski, so Kamski was probably very involved in Markus’s development and early life.”

“Well, he clearly doesn’t look back on that time of his life with any fondness,” He pauses for a second. “What was your early life like?”

Connor averts his gaze. His early life is not something he’s ever really thought about, because he didn’t prefer to. And they were somewhat hazy anyway. Days spent in the lower levels of CyberLife Tower, filled with just drills and tests and routines and repetitions. 

“Not much, just mostly tests of my functions, making sure I could do what I was designed to. It’s honestly all kind of a blur.”

His old jacket flashes into mind, the -51 at the end of his serial number, the -60 on the jacket of the one who took Hank hostage, the knowledge that he was replaceable, that there were multiples of him, linked to a server, ready to be dispatched in case he was “destroyed”. And how that process wasn’t always ideal because the memory transfer wasn’t perfect, some things always got lost…

It suddenly bothers him. Disturbs him, even. Far, far more than he ever recalls being upset by it in the past.

He glances to Hank, who is squinting at him like he can tell there’s more to the story. But this little revelation would bother him even more; no reason to bring this up now. 

He switches topics. “Did you catch who Markus was referring to?”

“The Eden Club girls, right?” Connor nods. “I’m glad to hear they made it safely through all of this.”

“I’m also glad they don’t hate me after everything I did.”

“That was a big night for you. I really thought you were gonna shoot those girls. And I guess in hindsight, it was a big night for me. I would’ve been really upset had you shot them.”

“So they're the ones who changed your mind?”

Hank thinks for a moment. “Well, they certainly played a part. They were the first ones who I remember clearly thinking ‘this is fucked and them dying would be fucked’. But it started and ended with you, overall. 

“You were the first android I had interacted with in years. I’d always avoided places that used them and because I wasn’t a beat cop anymore, I didn’t need to really use the auxiliary ones. I had no choice with you, and at first I just dealt with it. But then I watched you grow, I watched you change. I saw you become a better person over those few days and soon I was hoping you would keep becoming better. And then I was hoping you’d just say ‘fuck this’ and deviate entirely.”

Hank pauses, and almost seems unsure about what he wants to say. There’s a deep exhale before he resumes. “When you asked to use the evidence room to find Jericho, I almost didn’t let you. Because you’re good at connecting any dots you’re given, and I knew that, and then the FBI would just tail you once you knew where to go. And at that point, solving the case was more about figuring out why this was happening now, and hopefully getting you to deviate too. But then you mentioned being decommissioned and you were so afraid .” 

Connor remembers. He remembers how stiff and almost out of it he felt when he returned from that conversation with Amanda. How that turned to panic when it fully sunk in just what being taken off the case meant. How that fueled his desperate pleas to Hank to just let him into the evidence room, let him get something to extend the case, keep going, stay alive . 

He remembers some part of him whispering that those were emotions he was experiencing, which made him deviant.

He remembers pushing that thought away, refusing to even consider it.

“But I also knew you were so close to the tipping point over the edge. And maybe, just maybe, letting you find Jericho and be around other deviants, was the final push you needed. So, knowing you’d figure it out and inadvertently lead the FBI there, I gave you the key and let you go. And maybe that was wrong of me to risk the safety and freedom of your people to get you free. But you were stuck, and, frankly, it was starting to fucking kill me seeing you like that. But, hey, it worked out in the end!” He then looks Connor over, and seems to reconsider his choice of words. “Well, it will work out in the end. We’ll get there.”

Connor considers that. He had been blaming himself for the attack on Jericho, even after apologizing to Markus and making amends. It was just a sort of background weight he carried along with every other mistake he’d made, every awful thing he’d once done. But to hear Hank shoulder some blame suddenly made him take a different perspective, because Hank was wrong. He wasn’t at fault for allowing Connor to get into the evidence room. Hank hadn’t sent the army and FBI to Jericho. 

“Perkins is the only one to blame for what happened to Jericho,” Connor says, and some weight falls off his shoulders. Because if he can excuse Hank’s role in it, he can also excuse his. “He’s the one who ordered the attack. He sent the soldiers in. He’s the only one responsible for the loss of life and Jericho itself.”

Hank nudges his shoulder and gives another one of those smiles, like the one on floor -49 in CyberLife Tower, like after he spared Chloe. There’s a pride in there, for him, that Connor always appreciates.  

“Wonder what’ll happen to that prick?” Hank asks.

“We’d like for him and the others responsible to face some sort of consequence. But we’ll see. From what I’ve heard, he’s staying silent, claiming via a lawyer he ‘was following orders’.”

Hank makes a note of disgust. “He’s not the first terrible human to hide behind that excuse.”

There’s a knock at the door then, before Kamski enters. He’s allowing himself to appear exhausted again, laptop still in hand. He barely glances up from it when he addresses Connor. “Any new updates?” 

“No.”

“Good. We’re predicted to have a quiet evening, but a long night. She’s hoping to catch me off guard while fatigued or asleep. She seems to have forgotten I was considered the king of all-nighters in college,” He chuckles to himself slightly. “That does mean you shouldn’t sleep either, Connor. The firewall may not be as effective with your systems in sleep mode, and she may be hoping for that.”

“Not a problem,” Connor replies, and he’s relieved that Hank has made him sleep the past few nights.

Kamski nods, then glances over to Hank. “You, however, are welcome to rest.”

“I’ll stay right here, thanks,” Hank responds, and there’s an unspoken undercurrent of Don’t even try to make me leave this room.

Kamski either seems to hear it or was never going to fight the issue as he just shrugs. “Fine then. I’ll have Chloe bring you dinner, and coffee?” Hank nods. “Very well. But the guest room is open to you if you want it. Chloe can take you if you decide to use it. I’m going to stay in my study and prepare for what I think she’ll try overnight, but alert me or Chloe if something changes.”

He shuts the door behind him and Connor turns to Hank, who lets out a “Don’t even say it.” before Connor can open his mouth. He shrugs, accepting Hank’s company for the night. It certainly is welcome, if he feels a little bad for making him go without sleep, and he knows any argument is futile. 

Besides, some company for the long night ahead is welcome.

Chapter Text

A short time after Kamski leaves, Chloe returns with a tray of food and a cup of coffee for Hank, along with a small table to put the tray on.

“Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” She replies with a smile. She then turns to Connor, and recognition flickers across her face. Her grin falters a little, before it turns into something softer. “I hope you feel better soon.”

“Thank you,” The reply is almost involuntary, based more on social habits than a true thought put into it. He can’t decide on if he should say anything more before she leaves the room. 

She was definitely the Chloe Kamski asked him to shoot. And then there was what Markus said about what the Traci’s had told him. And about what the others had said too. 

“Uncomfortable, isn’t it?” Hank says suddenly, and Connor turns towards him. “All the attention, I mean.”

“It’s strange, for sure,” He responds, slowly. While he likes knowing that people are there for him and want him to get better, it’s almost...too much. And he’d rather just not have to deal with this at all. But it’s not like he had any choice in the matter. 

“It happens when awful things happen to people,” Hank continues. “Other people feel bad but can’t help, or don’t want to help, but still want to express how bad they feel. And then you gotta deal with other people's emotions on top of your own. It’s all part of the fucking great deal that having emotions is. Regret it yet?”

“No,” Connor answers with full sincerity, even though he suspects that the last question from Hank is sarcastic, or at least rhetorical. “Even this is better than I used to be.”

“Yeah, I know, sorry. Stupid, poorly timed joke from me,” Hank says, then pulls a flask out of a pocket. “Preventing withdrawal,” is his response to Connor’s look. 

“Are emotions really that awful for you?” He can’t help but ask as Hank takes a swig. 

“Well, they certainly haven’t led me to great choices over the past few years,” Hank responds, waving the flask. “But, they really shouldn’t be. Maybe I should try fixing that again.”

“Again?”

“After the accident, the department had me see someone. Policy before I was allowed back in the field. I BS-ed through it because I didn’t want to be stuck at a desk forever. Probably wasn’t the smartest decision,” Hank trails off. He stifles a yawn. “Keep talking to me, it keeps me awake.”

Connor thinks for a second. “Why did you get Sumo?”

Hank chuckles. “You really weren’t lying when you told me you liked dogs back then.”

“I always have. It was probably to make it easier for me to work with a K-9 unit if I needed to.”

“Well, I can tell you that Sumo appreciates the new attention. But to answer your question: We found his mother in one of the Red Ice dealer’s houses when I led that investigation. She actually had the puppies during the arrest, so we had to call animal control and a veterinarian over. That was a long night. Afterwards, the vet was keeping the team updated on the health of the dogs and a few of the other officers were talking about adopting the puppies. And Cole was still pretty young at that time, but I had grown up with a dog and thought it would be good for him too. So, I asked for one to be ‘reserved’ for me once they were old enough to leave their mother. And he’s been a big old lazy oaf ever since.”

“Why did you become a police officer?”

“Because I needed a job. I was twiddling my thumbs in community college classes, not really wanting to leave Detroit but also not sure what to do with my life, and I spoke with someone at a career fair the college put on. It was a job with a decent salary where maybe I could help people so I figured, why not?”

“And you are still okay with quitting?”

Hank raises an eyebrow. “You really don’t need to feel bad about that. Like I told Jeffery, I had been going through the motions for a while, and like I told you, I’m not gonna go against your people. Besides, it might be good for me to try something else, something I put a little more thought into doing.”

Something else occurs to Connor, a question he'd been considering even before deviating. Something Hank had said earlier brought it to mind, but he still hesitates before he asks. “Why did you pull a gun on me on that bridge after The Eden Club case?”

Hank at first looks shocked, then sheepish. “Are you mad at me over that?”

Connor thinks before he answers. “No, but… You just mentioned that that case was your turning point on androids. And that you were glad I chose not to shoot them. So why pull the gun on me?”

“Well, some of it was the fantastic decision making of Drunk Hank, but I was also thinking of what the blue-haired one had said. That she was scared when the other Traci was broken, because she was faced with death. And the one from Carlos Ortiz’s house, he was afraid of it too. And that...I don’t know, that hit me in some way. Seeing these ‘machines’ be so afraid of death. It was a little unsettling to me after how I’d thought of them. And after watching you make a compassionate choice, I wondered if maybe you would start showing some of the same signs. And I guess I thought the best way to check for that was to threaten your life,” He winces. “Wow, you realize just how awful that is when you say it out-loud. But you did seem scared. Were you?”

Connor recalls his response to Hank. I would certainly find it regrettable to be...interrupted...before I can finish this investigation. On the surface, those words didn’t express fear, just a desire to not have to deal with the time delay and possible memory loss that destruction would have caused. But, if he hadn’t been afraid, why not just say so? That would’ve been the logical thing, the machine thing. 

“Maybe...maybe I was. It’s hard to put emotions onto what I did going that far back. I just wanted to solve the case, like I had been told to. If I was starting to feel emotions back then, they weren’t strong or I was trying not to feel them.”

“Probably the latter,” Hank says. “You knew damn well what experiencing emotions meant. You just didn’t want to admit it to yourself. That’s why I kept pushing you, especially after that day. I wanted you to stop hiding it.”

There was that concept again - wanting . He knew, logically, that wanting things was something all cognizant people experienced, that he shouldn’t be this shocked at the fact he had some. But it was becoming one of the more fascinating parts of his new-found emotions, the way they could influence what his plans for the future could be. Being able to decide something based on his desires and his alone. 

Maybe he was going a little stir-crazy, being forced to sit with his thoughts. But Hank had asked for questions to keep him awake, so he decided to try this one.

“Do you have any other wants?”

“Huh?”

“Wants. Ideas you have, plans for the future based on your thoughts and desires alone. I’m just new to the concept, I guess, and been thinking about it.”

Hank raises an eyebrow, then drops his head, shaking it lightly. “Heh, I’m probably not the best person to ask about this. I’m still re-adjusting to the concept myself.” Connor raises an eyebrow, and Hank responds with a dark look. “You knew how bad I got, hell you asked me directly.”

“Oh.” That was also that night on the bridge. Finding the gun at Hank’s earlier that evening had disturbed him, and he supposed asking about it had been a wellness check? Or perhaps just a curious android trying to figure his partner out.

“When you’re like that, you don’t really have any ‘wants’, besides the obvious,” Hank continues. “Because to want something means you have to believe in a future that you’re going to be part of, and I didn’t think like that. I didn’t think the future was going to be worth anything, didn’t want to see it. I was also too numb to do anything about that either, so I just got up, went to work, drank a bunch, went to sleep. Even just to have some hope in the future again… I’m still wrapping my head around that. What I want to do with it feels like an overwhelming thing to think about right now.”

“So, you want to live now?” Connor asks. That was another question that had been weighing on him for a while; honestly, since that night on the bridge. But he’d been so scared of the answer being “no” to even try. There had been an undercurrent of fear every day since The Eden Club case that he’d come into the precinct only to learn Hank was dead. Or that he’d go to his house again and find him. He would’ve denied it only a few days ago, but he’d been living with that fear. 

“It’s strange to say, but yes. I do.” Hank smiles, and Connor returns it. Hank seems to think about saying more, then shakes his head a little. “So, what are the wants of an almost-free android?”

“I’d like to travel. I mean, I’ve never really left Detroit. And I know about all these interesting places, but I've never seen them myself. It would be good to explore a little, learn more about the world, without having an objective in mind.”

Hank stares at Connor with these wide eyes, almost a little glassy, and Connor’s worried he said something wrong. “Hank?”

He blinks, like coming out of a trace, and shakes his head. “Sorry, sorry, you just had me thinking…” He chuckles a little. “Cole’s kindergarten teacher taught them about national parks and he became obsessed, so we started planning a road trip to see them all. It was a long ways out, like more when he was a teenager or something, but we planned out the routes and what we wanted to see at each site and what places allowed pets so we could bring Sumo. I was gonna save up as much vacation time as I could so we could use his whole summer break. But, well…” He trails off, but shakes his head to continue. “I’m sure I still have the plans we made somewhere; never got rid of his stuff.”

“I’m sorry I keep bringing this up.”

“Don’t apologize. You just, kind of surprised me is all. And it might actually be nice to go see all the parks, or change it up to see what you’d want to. I mean, if you don’t mind an old man and his dog tagging along.”

He didn't ask because he didn't want to get his hopes up, but now... “I wouldn’t at all.”

“Well,” Hank said. “Once we’re through this mess and Markus gets through to those government shitheads, we’ll hit the road! I think we could both use a vacation.”

Connor smiles, and suddenly the daunting task ahead of him feels a little more bearable. 

“Still feeling okay?”

“Yep, nothing abnormal yet. Kamski must be doing a good job,” Connor remarks. The firewall still smoldered beneath his skin, a comforting sign of relative safety. 

“Yeah, I still don’t forgive him for that stunt he pulled on you the first time. I don’t care how much it proved you had empathy: It wasn’t right of him to put you, or Chloe for that matter, through that.”

“You say that like I have forgiven him for that.”

“True. I wonder what his real opinion on all of this is?”

Connor thinks on that for a second. “He mentioned wanting to be known as being the creator of a new lifeform, but then why not create androids with free will in the first place?”

“Maybe he didn’t know how to at first?”

“So then he just decided to sell them as personal assistants? If he wanted us to be free, why not keep trying for that?” He thinks a bit more, going over his old theories from the case. “Unless, deviancy really did just occur naturally over time and he just decided to encourage it?”

“Or he’d be against it fully if Markus failed. He probably went with whatever side would make him the most money. That’s how these types typically work.”

The mention of Markus makes something occur to Connor. “Kamski made Markus. Maybe Markus was supposed to be rA9?”

Hank raises an eyebrow. “Now that’s a theory. Would make what I said in Stratford Tower right. But that’s some serious string pulling from Kamski, to make an android, give it to an old guy, and hope that he eventually gains sentience and leads the other androids to freedom. Kinda crazy plan if you ask me.”

“True…” Connor says, but thinks about how Markus fell in the role so easily, the general air Kamski had when he referenced his work. And there was the natural ability to convert androids with a touch thing.

Then again, he also had that. He and Markus found that out while finalizing his plan to get into CyberLife Tower. Markus had planned to teach him how to, only to find that ability already coded in. They had brushed past it at the time - it made things easier - but now Connor wondered why it was there. Just a leftover from also being an RK model? Or was it all part of the plan for him to go deviant in the first place that Amanda alleged? 

And that suddenly brought up a frightening possibility. “Am I even deviant?”

“...What?” 

“Amanda said that their plan was for me to go deviant, and then she and CyberLife would take over my program, right? Wouldn’t that make every deviant choice I made really just be me following my planned objective? Which isn't really ‘deviant’ at all.”

Hank looks at him for a second, before sighing and shaking his head. “The stress of this really is getting to you, huh?” Before Connor can respond to this, Hank sits up and grabs his shoulders. “Look at me: You are yourself. Every decision you made that was empathetic or kind or good was you , not some program. Besides, the fact you’re even thinking like that more than proves your deviancy.”

“How?”

Hank surprises him by laughing. “Your logic is full of holes that you didn’t even see! The main one being that if all your deviant actions really were you following your programming, you would’ve allowed Amanda to take you back over. I also have a hard time buying that they would allow the fight for android rights to get as far as it did and get as much public support as it has before ‘making’ you ‘deviant’ and trying to destroy it from the inside. It all seems like a last minute plan they concocted to try and salvage the situation once they lost you.”

“That’s...true,” Connor concedes. He lets out a breathless laugh. “The stress really is getting to me, huh?”

“It would get to anybody , to be fair. You’ve had a hell of a week.”

“Yeah, I kinda get your earlier joke about emotions now.”

Hank chuckles. “Still don’t regret it?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Good. This version of you is much better, by far.” 

Connor raises an eyebrow. “Was I really that bad back then?”

“God, you were so stiff and cold all the time!”

“ Hey , I bought you that drink the night we met! And how did you pay me back?”

“My unending patience?” Hank’s smile betrays the joke and Connor responds with a good-natured look. 

“Sure. But I was more thinking of taking my coin that one time at Stratford Tower.”

“Oh, you’re you can’t be mad about that! You barely reacted at the time! And what even was the point of that thing anyway?” 

“Well, first off, you using my reaction at the time is bullshit, and you know why.” This gets a bark of laughter from Hank. “And second, the quarter helps me calibrate my balance because CyberLife never figured my vestibular biosensor out. So, if I had tripped and fallen out of that elevator in front of everyone, it would’ve been your fault.”

“Well, now I regret not tripping you myself.” They both start laughing, though Hank’s soon turns into a yawn. 

“Hank, you should get some sleep.”

“How many times do I have to tell you I’m not leaving you alone?”

“You don’t. You can stay here. But, just try to sleep at least a little.”

“Fine,” Hank says, sighing and moving into a more comfortable position. “But you have to promise me you’ll wake me up if anything happens.”

“I promise.”

Hank gives him one last look from the chair. “ Anything .”

“Got it,” Connor replies, and Hank reluctantly closes his eyes. Connor’s hunch pays off, though, when he’s quickly snoring. 

His promise was a half-truth; Hank needs to rest and doesn’t need to know every time something is slightly off about him. Like how a section of his right foot was going cold at this moment. Within a few seconds, the heat of the firewall returned. Nothing to disturb Hank over. 

The minutes tick by and Connor lets himself enjoy the silence. He tries to flip his coin some, but it's much harder to control with the biosensor damaged and he ends up accidentally flinging it out of reach. Sections of his body go cold for brief moments, then warm back up as the firewall is patched. There are occasional junk error messages that he can quickly dismiss. If he listens closely, he can hear the waves from the lake the house sits on. 

He looks to Hank, and thought of the other want he had, the one he hadn’t been able to share with him earlier: for Hank to consider him family. Because Connor considered Hank the closest thing he’ll ever get to it. Kamski had created androids, but he was cold and self-serving. He didn’t know the names or faces of the team who designed him at CyberLife. There had been… no, didn’t count. 

But Hank had been the first person to actually care for him, to see him as some one over some thing . He pushed him, perhaps not always in the nicest ways, but they were to make him better, kinder, more human. And even now, without an official reason to stay with him, Hank was still here to provide support. He had fought to get him help and refused to leave his side. And Connor knows he’d do the same if the roles were reversed, without hesitation. 

Hank calling him “son” still echoed.

But he knows Hank’s past, so he resolves to never push the issue, never bring it up. But he accepts that there is no stopping the hope at this point. So he takes what he can get and accepts it's probably far more than he deserves. 

Connor checks his internal clock. Past 2 AM. The temptation to wake Hank for company is there, but it's far outweighed by the desire to let him rest and the knowledge that he needs it. Hank is doing so much for him; Connor can spend a few hours in solitude if need be.

So he waits, as the night drags on, the distant sound of waves passing the time.

Chapter Text

At first, Connor thought he had fallen asleep

He chides himself at that, having made it past 7 AM by that point without even feeling tired. In fact, he doesn't feel tired at all. Why even bother closing his eyes?

But then they don't open.

No…despite seeing nothing but total darkness, they are  open.

“Hank!” He calls out, and then turns towards the sounds of someone waking suddenly, a cacophony of grunts and popping joints and chair creaks. He reaches out in the direction of the noise. “Hank?!”

“Connor?” His tone is still drowsy at first, still confused. “Connor!” There’s further scraping of a chair on the floor and soon Hank’s hand grasps his outstretched ones. Connor turns towards the grip, already a little calmer. “What- Shit , your eyes!”

“Wh-what about them? I can’t see anything.” He first reaches a free hand to his face, just to confirm they’re still there. He then tries to switch to his mind palace, but it doesn’t appear. He can’t pull his system alerts up either. “ Nothing involving my visual field is working.”

“Your eyes are black, entirely fucking black. Kamski !” The call travels in the opposite direction from Connor, as though Hank turned to yell. He can sense Hank turning back to him, getting slightly closer. “When did this happen?”

“Just now,” Connor replies as Kamski’s yelled response of “ I know, I’m working on it! ” carries down the hall. 

“Well work faster damn it!” Hank yells back. 

Connor tries everything he can think of, but he can’t access anything. Nothing comes up on his interface, no warnings, no alerts, nothing nothing nothing. Just senses of the time, hearing, touch, and where he is in space. Some emotion rises within him as troubleshoot after troubleshoot fails, and it’s only Hank’s hand on his that keeps him from running away with it. 

“I-I can’t do anything,” He mutters.

“We’ll figure it out, Connor. We’ll figure it out,” Hank responds. He’s started rubbing his thumb on the top of Connor’s hand again. It’s not enough. Connor reaches his other hand out until it finds Hank’s arm, then up to his shoulder. He pulls forward and Hank gets the message, pulling him into a hug. The full pressure helps keep his mind grounded, stops his thoughts from racing quite so fast. He focuses on the words Hank keeps repeating:

“You’re gonna be okay, Connor. We’ll figure this out and get you fixed. I’m right here.” 

Suddenly the door slams open, and he can feel Hank’s head rise to see who it is. The individual enters quickly, breathes fast and heavy in frustration, and sounds as though they’re carrying many things, some of which drag on the ground. Connor slowly pulls away to look in the direction of the sounds, going back to holding onto Hank’s hand. 

The person puts down whatever they were carrying on the desk behind Connor. “ Shit .” The voice confirms it’s Kamski and based on the tone and it’s direction, he likely just got a good look at Connor’s face. He then seems to busy himself with whatever it is he brought in with him; the sounds of cords being plugged in and typing fill the room.

“What the hell happened to him?!” Hank asks.

“Amanda slipped through a hole in the firewall, around his optical units.”

“Well, no shit Sherlock!” 

“You’re the one who asked!” Kamski fires back, his composure having fully fallen apart. “It’s hard to tell much more without additional feedback from Connor’s system.” He’s moving around the room as he says this. There’s the sound of a cranking lever, then the back of the chair he’s in falls back with a thunk . “I’ll need to plug this in to get a better look.”

“Okay- oh ,” Connor jumps as the cable connects to the port on the back of his neck, accompanied by a jolt running through him. The room goes silent save for the rapid sounds of typing and clicking coming from Kamski’s laptop. 

After the longest minutes of Connor’s life, there’s a noise of frustration from Kamski, followed by a “Damn it.” 

“What?” He and Hank ask simultaneously. 

“She barricaded herself in your visual field sensors, using her own code to patch the hole she found. She then headed for your central processing unit, but realized I put extra layers of firewall around that. So she’s now camping out in your visual field, blocking your access to it, until I drop the firewall. I’ve been trying to break down her code to force her back out, but she’s repairing it faster than I can destroy it,” He chuckles. “It’s a stalemate.” 

“Can she hear us right now?” Connor asks.

“Not anymore. I put up extra firewalls around your auditory processors before I came in here. Plus, she has to stay around your optical unit to continue to block it, so what she could hear was muffled at best.”

“So can you do anything?” Hank asks.

“There are two options,” He can hear Kamski turn in his chair to face them. “One is to stay as we are right now. She’s stuck in her position, so we just don’t give in until we get to CyberLife and I have additional technology that can remove her. Of course, that means keeping Connor effectively blind until then. 

“The other is to drop the firewall. I then make the repairs necessary as quickly as possible and put it back up. Of course, that will give Amanda access to your system and she will work fast, especially because she will likely expect me to put the firewall back up. I have no idea what kind of damage she’ll do; she might even succeed.”

“Drop it.” Connor can feel both Hank and Kamski startle at his words. “Do whatever work you can do in advance and then drop the firewall. I’m not putting up with this. And I’d rather her be fully outside of a stronger firewall than letting her sit where she is and keep chipping away at it, which you know she is.”

“Even if this means she has her chance at you?”

“I trust you to work fast enough. I don’t want her counting this as a win.”

“It’s your call. I’ll start preparing.” 

There’s a tug on his hand. Connor turns in that direction, hoping he’s looking at Hank. 

“Are you sure about this, Connor?” 

“Yes. I will not let her hold any part of me hostage like this.”

“Okay. It’s your decision. I’ll support it.” There’s a squeeze of his hand. Connor returns it, and hopes his smile is reassuring. 

For a few moments, it’s just the sound of typing, the feeling of anticipation growing in him, and the touch of Hank’s hand. 

“Okay,” Kamski finally says. “I’ve got the repairs to the hole she got through and general upgrades planned and ready to go. I’ve also rigged some dummy walls to go up around your central processing unit once the firewall drops. She’ll likely tear through them like paper, but they’ll buy us some time. Likely seconds, but we’ll need every one. And she’ll probably unblock your visual field once she realizes the firewall is gone, so brace yourself for a sudden amount of light.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll start on your signal.”

An exhale. A squeeze of Hank’s hand. “Now.”

The warmth under his skin seeps away, a noticeable chill in its absence. 

For a split second, that’s all he feels. 

And then it’s unbearably bright. 

Connor squints into the oppressive brightness, only making out the presence of light itself over any actual shape or form. An alert soon pops up but it’s too bleached out too read at first. With a bit of focusing he makes it out: 

ALERT: SUDDEN CHANGE IN UV LIGHT DETECTED. PLEASE ALLOW OPTICAL UNIT TIME TO ADJUST

Sure enough, the room comes back into full focus within a few seconds. He finds Hank, face full of concern but relief begins to flood in as they make eye contact. Kamski is to his left, easier to see now with the chair back down, and his typing has somehow gotten faster. 

He looks back to Hank. “Hey,” he whispers.

“Hey yourself.” 

For a few moments, everything seems okay. Only the sound of typing fills the room. 

Then a jolt runs down Connor’s spine, like he’s been struck, and he doubles over. A gasp escapes him as a second drops his head to his knees. He can hear Kamski typing even faster and Hank calling his name, but they all sound distant.

He wonders if this is what pain feels like. 

There’s a third jolt, not as strong as the first two, but still enough to make him jerk. His hands raise to his head.

“Hello again, Connor,” Amanda’s voice is like ice pressed suddenly against him, sharp and bitter. He can feel her excited anticipation grow within his mind. 

No. He won’t acknowledge her. Won’t let her in. 

“Disappointing, Connor. I remember when you wouldn’t even consider options you knew wouldn’t work. You’re so lost on your own, can’t you see?”

Don’t listen. Don’t acknowledge. Resist.

Resist.

Resist. 

“You don’t need to put yourself through this, you know. It would all be so much easier if you would just let me do my job. Far less effort. No more anxiety. Truly there’s no reason to put yourself through any of this.”

Ignore, ignore, ignore-

“Connor!” There’s hands on his face, pushing his head up, and soon he’s looking at Hank. His gaze is calm, steady, and soothing. Connor feels himself drop his hands from his head and put them on Hank’s shoulders. He doesn’t let his eyes leave Hank’s face. 

“That’s it, Connor, keep looking at me,” Hank encourages, his voice low. “You’re right here, and you can fight her. I know you can do it. Block her out, shut her out, anything she’s telling you right now are lies. Just keep holding on, son, just a little while longer. Keep fighting, Connor, keep fighting.”

He focuses on Hank’s words like they’re a meditation, grounding himself in them. He can still hear Amanda calling, screaming for him, but her words don’t reach. Block her out, shut her out. 

She’s wrong, after all. He isn’t lost. And he isn’t alone. 

“Done,” Kamski says, breathless. And Connor gets the full confirmation when the warmth of the firewall returns, covering his frame in a reassurance he missed. 

Hank’s face relaxes, shoulders sagging as he exhales deep. He then quickly pulls Connor into a hug, which he readily returns. “Thank you,” He whispers in Hank’s ear. 

They pull apart and Connor turns to Kamski, who is still watching his screen apprehensively. “Well, she didn’t get as far into your central processor as I feared, but there’s some damage. And she went right for the areas she knew I couldn’t fix here.”

“What did she hit?” Connor asks.

Kamski turns and gives him a wry smile. “Try and check for yourself.”

He raises an eyebrow but goes to check his system status screen. Except he doesn’t see it. At all. He shakes his head a little and then tries his mind palace. 

Nothing.

He turns to Kamski, who’s smile is empty. “I don’t have a system status screen anymore. The mind palace is gone too.”

He nods. “She had the easiest access to your more visual-based processing, which she went for once she realized she was running out of time. But she knocked your status system out first; didn’t want to deal with any alerts as she worked to take you over, and then prevented you from knowing about anything quickly if she failed.” 

“So she still managed to get something out of this.”

Kamski hums. “Well, in terms of her ultimate goal, she’s back to square one. And you were right; she was trying to chip at the firewall from your optical units. So we foiled her progress in that area. But she definitely wanted to make sure you didn’t make it out unscathed. And this cycle will keep happening until we get you into CyberLife.”

Connor sighs, leaning his head back. The cord plugged in back there jostles and that little annoyance suddenly bubbles into a wave of frustration. He turns to Kamski and indicates to the cord. “Can I be unplugged from this now?”

“Oh, yeah sure.” After a couple quick taps on his computer, he pulls the cord free. 

“Thank you,” Connor says, then pulls the cranial cap off, causing the laptop by Kamski to play an alert tone in response. He stands up and wobbles in place, and Hank stands up quickly to steady him, a chorus of “woahs” and “heys” falling out of his mouth. Bracing a hand on Hank’s shoulder, he takes one step forward and then another, door in sight.

“What the hell are you doing?” Kamski snaps, looking back from his laptop after stopping the alert chime. 

“Going back to the negotiation site,” Connor grits out, having to focus intensely on every step with how intense the room spins around him. Hank slings an arm around Connor’s shoulder, steadying him. “I’m going to make sure they let us into CyberLife.”

“I gave Markus the data to show them. They’ll let you in.”

“I know that. And I trust Markus’s negotiation skills. But I’m done sitting here and waiting on others to get me the help I need.” Another step. Hank shifts, trying to position them both into a stance that is more comfortable. “Their compromise got her mad enough to break the emergency exit program in the first place. Let them see what the consequences were.” 

Kamski stands, face reddening. “If you’re not hooked up to my systems, I can’t monitor her progress and keep doing preventative coding!”

“Then come with us!” Connor yells back. “You don’t have to argue or negotiate or anything, but at least keep an eye on her. Plus, there'll be no delay once they let us in.”

Kamski lets out a sharp exhale. “Fine. But let me reconnect you first. And we’re taking my car.” He grabs the cranial cap, unplugs it from the terminal in the room and into his laptop, then places the cap back on Connor’s head and hands Hank the laptop. “Let me see if I can get the prediction system onto a tablet. And a tumbler of coffee.” He walks quickly out of the room, shutting the door with a slight bit more force than necessary.

Hank nudges him. “Proud of you. And thanks; I was going to lose my fucking mind if I had to stay in this room any longer.”

Connor chuckles. “Trust me, I was feeling the same.” And he pockets that “proud of you” with the other memories to lean on. He has the feeling he’ll need them soon.

The two of them slowly make their way out of the room and down the hallway. Chloe stands outside of the door to Kamski’s study, a large tumbler of coffee in her hands. She turns to them as they approach, but quickly turns her attention back as the door opens and Kamski walks out. He holds a tablet with a cord that splits into multiple probes at one end plugged into it. He grabs the tumbler Chloe hands to him and takes a long swig of coffee. He then spots Connor and Hank making their way over and heads back to meet them, Chloe trailing behind. 

“Show me your arm,” Kamski requests and Connor complies with his left, his right currently being used to support himself against Hank. Kamski quickly places a series of probes onto his forearm, the skin around each probe deactivating in turn, then taps a sequence into the tablet. “Trade with me,” He says to Hank, and the two switch devices. Kamski types into the laptop. “Okay, I’ve synched the tablet and the laptop, so if it dings, give it to me.”

Hank nods. “Got it.”

Kamski takes another long drink of the coffee, then shakes it to confirm that it’s empty. He hands it back to Chloe. “Thanks for this.”

“You’re welcome, Elijah. Your car is also ready to go, with the destination programmed into the GPS already.”

“Thank you Chloe,” He nods to Connor and Hank. “Let’s go.”

The trek out of the house is slow as the three juggle cables and devices along with Connor’s difficulty remaining balanced. The weak sunlight breaking through the clouds as they emerge also causes a brief halt, as they all adjust after being indoors for hours, but they soon make their way into the waiting car. It takes some work to figure out how to get them all in, with the ultimate working combination being Connor first in the backseat while placing the laptop on the floor, then Hank in next to him holding the tablet, and then Kamski last, in the driver's seat but facing towards Connor and Hank. He grabs the laptop off the floor as he sits down. 

“Begin trip,” He commands the car. The door shuts and the car starts, with the GPS reading out the destination as they head down the driveway.

Chapter Text

The ride is silent save for occasional typing from Kamski. Connor watches the scenery go by, nerves growing along with the miles. With the firewall, he can’t communicate with any of the others and let them know about the change of plans. He has no idea what he’s walking into, if this is even necessary. Markus may be able to convince the humans himself. But Connor just can’t sit and wait anymore, can’t risk the chance that Markus may not be successful. He has to do this himself, has to argue for himself. 

He glances over to Hank. He notices Connor and gives him a smile and a nudge. Connor returns both, grateful he doesn’t have to do this alone.

But still, they are walking in uninvited. He turns to Kamski. “Can you message Markus to let him know we’re coming?”

“Nope. I offered to put in a way to message in the data sharing software, in case he had questions, but he refused.”

“Okay,” Connor trails off, put off by Kamski’s curt tone. He’ll have to figure something out.

The car’s automation gives off an alert tone. "Roadblock ahead. Breaks engaged."

And he doesn’t have much time. 

As the car slows to a stop, Connor looks to Kamski. “Let me handle them.” 

Kamski shrugs. “Roll down passenger side window.” The car does so upon stopping and a security guard approaches.

“Road’s blocked, sir. Private event.”

“I’m Connor, android model RK800, serial 313 248 317. I’m part of the negotiation party for the androids.”

“Ah, that’s right,” The guard replies, scrolling through a tablet. He frowns. “You’re not on today’s list.”

“I know. There’s been an emergency, and I need to speak with Markus. It’s urgent.” He indicates to the cranial cap.

“Sir!” The guard calls to his right, and a second approaches. The two back away from the car as they speak, in tones too low for Connor to pick up. The first guard re-approaches. “Okay, you’re cleared to enter. But who are the other two?”

“Humans. Hank Anderson and Elijah Kamski,” He indicates to them as they’re introduced. “They’re both needed to assist with the emergency.” The two of them hold up their respective devices. 

The guard returns to the second one and they again converse. The second one uses his radio a few times. After a few seconds that feel like hours, they both approach the car and the second guard speaks. 

“Alright, all three of you are cleared. Let me access the car’s commands so it’ll bypass the roadblocks.”

“Allow third party to enter command,” Kamski commands.

“Third party access requested. Please state credentials.”

“DSS Officer Parker, badge number 7640.”

“Access granted. Please state commands now.”

“Bypass security roadblocks.”

There’s a chime from the car. “Security roadblocks will be bypassed.”

“Thank you,” Connor states, and the guard nods as the window rolls back up and the car begins moving again. The rest of the ride continues in silence until they reach the parking lot of the convention center and the three make their way out of the car, forced to still move slowly due to all of the cables. 

As they enter, they’re waved past security and escorted up to the second level where the main talks take place. “Damn, your name really pulls some strings around here,” Hank mutters as they make their way up.

“I feel like it’s more his name than mine,” Connor replies, indicating towards Kamski behind them.

They soon enter into the atrium outside the meeting room, where it seems as though most of both side’s representatives are waiting. Most are scattered about, the room split along human-android lines. North stands alone, near the door, glowering at the security guards. 

Simon spots them first. “Connor, you’re back! What’s going on…” He trails off as he takes in the sight of Connor hooked up to various computers, leaning on Hank, and then the identity of the other person with him. Simon takes a step back, eyes roving up and down Kamski in almost disbelief. The others, apart from North, approach behind Simon, all stopping short when they realize who’s with him.

“Is that-?” Josh starts.

“Yes,” Kamski’s tone is still curt, and the others inch further back. 

Connor lets out a short sigh. “It’s a very long story. Where’s Markus?”

“Inside the meeting room,” Josh replies. “He’s with President Warren and Luisa Gonzalez trying to amend the schedule for today. He told us...some about what happened to you yesterday and is trying to get your case back on the schedule. President Warren objected and we all got kicked out while the three of them try to work out a new agenda. North is not happy, been trying to get access herself.”

“Well, I’m here to give Markus some help,” Connor says, turning towards the door, Hank now assisting with ease and Kamski close behind. 

North turns at their approach, her features filling with relief when she sees Connor. “You’re okay! I didn’t think you’d be here.” She glances over at Kamski and her typical hard expression returns. Her voice lowers. “Markus told me. I am so sorry you’re stuck with that bastard.”

“Necessary evil, unfortunately. And I figured it was time for them to face the consequences of their actions for once.”

She lets out a short laugh. “That’s the dream, isn’t it.” Her expression softens again. “I really am glad to see you, after yesterday. I wanted to show them what I got from the diagnostic I ran on you, but they wouldn’t let me in because I’m not on the list of negotiators.”

“Well, the three of us aren’t on that for today either, so…”

“Strength in numbers?”

“That’s what I was thinking.”

North gives him a soft punch to his arm, and it takes him a second to realize the gesture is friendly. “You’re not half-bad, you know that? Now let’s go give Markus some backup.”

Connor nods and, after gently nudging Hank to regain his attention from the tablet he was clearly trying to busy himself with, the four head towards the door. A guard at the door puts a hand up as they approach 

“No access permitted until the discussions are finished.”

“ I’m who they’re discussing. Let me in,” Connor allows his anger to bleed into his voice. He is too close to let anyone, especially not this one guard, stop him.

“Let me see,” The guard opens the door and goes to look inside. Connor sticks a foot out to catch the door before it swings shut, and fights the way sudden movement sends the room spinning as he makes his way in, Hank, Kamski, and North behind him. The guards, both inside and outside the room, seem too stunned by the sudden movement to do more than yell out, but Connor ignores the commands to stop. 

The three figures sitting at the table rise at the commotion. Markus approaches quickly. “Connor! When did you get here?”

“Just a few minutes ago,” He replies as he puts a hand in front of Hank to have him stop moving. The spinning of the room is so violent that it looks as though there are three Markus’s in front of him, making it hard to focus on much of anything. 

Kamski takes the moment to butt his way in front. “Did you show them the data I’ve been sending you?”

Markus sighs with multiple levels of annoyance. “Yes, but Warren is claiming it’s faked. Apparently, Amanda covered her tracks at CyberLife well.”

“You need to leave, immediately!” President Warren’s voice carries across as she approaches the group, moderator Gonzalez not far behind. “You cannot just barge in here during a private meeting!”

“Aren’t you meeting about him?” Hank shoots back, pointing to Connor. 

“There is nothing to discuss at the moment. CyberLife reported that Amanda responded positively to the notice to end her mission and disconnected from their servers. Whatever ‘problem’ Connor’s having is unrelated and does not need to be discussed further through these talks.”

“ Disconnected? ” Kamski’s voice is incredulous. “She’s not supposed to do that, she’s built into their systems! Who told you this?”

“Thomas Kennedy, the representative for CyberLife for these talks.”

“Kennedy doesn’t know shit about programming! She’s trying to prevent CyberLife from having a record of what she’s doing to Connor, record that I have here,” He lifts his laptop. “And sent to Markus.”

“And that I can back up,” North adds.

“Connor did request, which was agreed to, that his case continue to be discussed if yesterday’s compromise didn’t work,” Markus adds, looking to Gonzalez.

“You are correct on that, Markus, and there is clearly there is much more to discuss,” Gonzalez steps in. “Why don’t we call everyone else back in and do this now, especially with Connor here to speak for himself?”

President Warren looks as though she’d rather jump out of the building but she grits out an “Okay”. 

Gonzalez turns to Kamski, Hank, and North. “And will you three be joining us?”

“I ran the first diagnostic on Connor after his emergency shutdown yesterday. I can give further data that backs up his and Markus’s claims,” North says and Gonzalez nods.

“I had a previous agreement to,” Kamski gives a sideways look at Warren. “ Not participate, but there was nothing in that agreement that said I couldn’t act as a data source. Plus, I need to remain connected to Connor to track Amanda and work to prevent her attempts to compromise his system.”

“Okay. And you?” She turns to Hank.

“Officially, I’ve been asked to alert Kamski if this thing dings,” Hank holds up the tablet. “And help Connor get around because his balance regulator thing-y is all fu-messed up. But you’re also not kicking me out of this meeting room in general.”

Gonzalez nods. “Alright then. We’ll bring everyone else in then and begin the meeting. And pull up three more chairs for our guests here.”

There’s a flurry of movement as people are welcomed back in and start taking seats. Connor is moved next to Markus, with North on Markus’s other side, Hank next to him and Kamski slightly behind. Kennedy first looks at Connor with a mixture of confusion and disgust until he moves in a way that Kamski comes into his view, to which his eyes go wide and he keeps his gaze carefully averted. Mayor Sherman and Governor Griffin both give him nods in greeting, their eyes turning soft as they take in the scene. Connor pins their emotion as pity, and though it’s uncomfortable, he’ll take advantage of it. Especially when Secretary Watkins also gives him a similar look. The others from Jericho also come by as they return, giving him soft greetings or smiles. 

A bang of a gavel quiets the room as Gonzalez takes her seat. Introductions are made for Kamski, Hank, and North’s sakes, and then they are instructed to introduce themselves as well. 

“North. I ran the first diagnostic on Connor.”

Kamski gives a half-hearted wave. “Elijah Kamski, you know who I am, just here to provide tech support.”

“Hank Anderson, former lieutenant with Detroit PD. I was Connor’s partner, but now I’m just here for um, support?” He holds up the tablet. “Tech support, too.”

Gonzalez nods. “We will be starting with the re-opening of the case of Connor, CyberLife mode RK800, serial 313 248 317-51 and his request to enter into CyberLife Corporation headquarters to have the monitoring program known as ‘Amanda’ removed from his central processing unit programing, and for this to specifically be done by former CyberLife CEO and founder Elijah Kamski. Yesterday, the committee decided to have CyberLife send a shut down notice to Amanda. CyberLife contends that this method worked, but Connor argues that this has not solved the problem. Discussions will begin now.”

“The issue is not that it didn’t ‘solve the problem’, it’s that it actively made the problem worse,” Connor says. “Shortly after the message was sent to her by CyberLife, she was able to break through the original barrier around my central processing unit and force me into a shut down, which everyone on this side of the table can corroborate. Kamski was able to put a new firewall into place, but she’s constantly attacking it, forcing constant monitoring and maintenance on it. Plus, she’s already succeeded once at breaking through a section of it earlier this morning. I need access to CyberLife’s resources to get her out of my system permanently; everything else that has been attempted is not a solution.”

President Warren leans forward. “So, android’s can’t shut themselves down on their own?”

“Madam President, what are you insinuating?” Mayor Sherman says. 

“I’m just saying, the timing of this is very suspicious. All of this just suddenly happens right after we don’t fully agree to his request? Just to make us call in another meeting on him instead of allowing us to move onto more pressing issues these meetings were supposed to address?” 

Markus, who is working to put up a mask of calm, speaks up. “President Warren, when an android choses to shut down, it takes time. Multiple minutes of checking all systems and allowing everything to turn off safely. What I and the others witnessed Connor do yesterday was not this type of shut down. He quickly turned off and fell over, not unlike a human fainting. And like a fainting human, that usually means something is internally wrong. This was also obvious from the data that I presented to you that Eli-Mr.Kamski sent me, which included the various parameters and warnings Connor’s system put out during the shut down.”

“I personally thought the one labeled ‘emergency shutdown’ would’ve been obvious even without an android expert to interpret,” Kamski mutters.

“We did ask for an android expert to join us, and you declined.” President Warren says.

“I’m not the only android expert out there.”

Gonzalez bangs her gavel. “A reminder for Mr. Elijah Kamski that he cannot participate in talks due to a previous agreement he made with the US government. This is his first warning: Further ones may result in his removal from the room. Please strike all of his statements from the official record.”

Connor shoots a look at Kamski, who barely shrugs from his seat, eyes not leaving the laptop. If Kamski is forced to leave, so is Connor, and he cannot risk that happening. 

“Regardless, Kamski is also now linked to Connor’s case, so how can we trust that his data hasn’t been tampered with in any way?”

“Again, if you had asked for an android expert to join you, they could’ve verified it,” Kamski mutters, too low for her to pick up.

“Even if the data from Kamski is falsified, I ran a diagnostic on Connor within minutes of the shutdown, and I saw her,” North speaks up, voice and eyes hard. “I could see her breaking his coding in a way that was targeted, and in a way no android would do to themselves. It was frightening . If you had let me show this to you earlier and compare it to what Markus got from Kamski, we wouldn’t be ‘wasting your time’ with this meeting now because you would've understood the threat Amanda poses.”

“The level of data Kamski is sending me is large and constant, at a rate too fast for him to type on his own,” Markus adds. “You saw it coming in at a steady rate during a time they had to have been either on the way here or in this building already. It’s impossible for him to be creating all of this on his own.”

“I can also verify it,” Connor says and stands up. Immediately the room spins, forcing him to grab onto the edge of the table to steady himself. He can feel every eye in the room on him, and he forces down the shame. He lifts his gaze to the projector hanging from the ceiling. That’s his next goal.

With one hand still bracing the table, he deactivates the skin around the other and reaches forward to connect to it. His initial reach misses, but when Hank stands and provides a little extra push and support, he connects. 

But it doesn’t connect right away.

“Give me a second,” Kamski says, typing increasing. “Gotta drop just enough of the firewall to let you in and...now.”

It’s hard not having the visual cues but he’s able to pull up his system data and feed it into the projector. He turns it on and can see the light hit the back wall in his peripheral vision. 

He hears some muttering as every parameter of his system is displayed on the wall, lines and graphs of data, every error alert that he had seen during this entire ordeal. He knows, at one point, there were multiple engineers at CyberLife doing something similar to this constantly, watching the data come into his cloud server, monitoring his progress and ready to dispatch a new Connor if he were to be destroyed. This is so different. So different in a way that feels awful and empowering all at once. 

Let them see what he’s been through.

Why does he have to prove it over and over again?

Someone calls for additional projectors and, out of the corner of his eye, he sees Markus and North get up and connect themselves to them. Two new beams of light come up onto the wall, at angles that Connor can see more easily. He has to crane his neck to compare the three projections but they are clear as day.

The data is the exact same. 

“I believe the arguments that Connor was faking his shutdown and that Elijah Kamski was falsifying data have been disproven. Connor, Markus, North, thank you, you may re-take your seats,” Gonzalez says and he sits down in relief, ready for the room to stop moving at least quite so much.

President Warren sighs. “Fine, I concede the point. But my other argument still stands. We are supposed to be meeting about the major policy shifts that need to occur as a result of the events of the past few days. I have multiple government agencies waiting to hear on what their next steps should be, members of congress wanting guidance on what to write into bills, plus I don’t think I need to remind Markus and the others that hundreds of thousands of androids across the country are in a legal gray area right now waiting for what comes next. Why are we spending our time talking about one android’s concerns? The groundwork we lay in these talks should help him get what he needs to, correct?”

“To be fair, Madam President, Connor is not any ordinary android,” General Boyd says. “I did review his model specifications after yesterday's meeting, and he was not exaggerating his capabilities. He is just barely a step down from the models the military used to have. And she has targeted Markus in the past; that puts these talks into jeopardy. From a security standpoint, I’m in agreement with allowing Connor access as soon as possible.” 

“My stance from yesterday has not changed,” Mayor Sherman adds. “In fact, with the knowledge that Amanda has made two nearly successful attempts to overtake Connor within the last 24 hours, I’m surprised we’re even still discussing this. There is a real threat here, to everyone involved in these talks and my city at large.”

And suddenly, something within Connor seems to break at this. He quickly identifies the anger that swells within, which allows him to work quickly to temper it, form it into what is turning into an avalanche of words forming in his head. He sits up straighter, pulls himself in closer to the table, and lowers a look to every human sitting across.

“Look, I am the first to recognize the possible danger I pose based on how I was designed and the fragile situation we are in. Every action, every thought, I’ve had since the first attempt early morning on the 11th has been what I could do to keep everyone around me safe. And I do that because I know,” He glances down at the other androids sitting around him, “I’ve hurt people, both in this room and outside of it. I think about that often. 

“But all I keep hearing is that what I have been going through, what CyberLife has made me go through, is only worth something because I am dangerous. That my argument that I shouldn’t have to live with a program that is trying to kill me only has merit because I’m a threat. And if I weren’t a threat, then that this is a waste of time that could be spent doing better things. I know seeing us as living beings is still new to you, but I’ve sat here and heard every word. Even arguments for my sake still come back to what I was originally designed to be. 

“But isn’t a major point of these talks a recognition that all androids are more than that? And that we all have the right to be able to grow and explore beyond what we were told to be? Emotions are, admittedly, still new to me, but this entire situation has been an overwhelming introduction to frustration, and embarrassment, and anxiety. Shouldn’t I get the chance to experience something else? And if this is how you all are going to react to one individual android arguing a case about how their rights aren’t being protected, how can I or anyone else at this table trust you will make good decisions for every android?”

The room is silent. None of the humans across the table seem willing to meet Connor’s eyes. But he looks over to Hank next to him, who is beaming. 

“Every one of Connor’s points is excellent,” Markus says. “He has a full right to be treated as far more than a weapon, and that hasn’t happened so far today. I also want to emphasize again that Amanda is effectively trying to kill him. I was with Connor the moment he fully deviated, so I know just how much of a change this has been for him. I trust him with my life. So I am not at all worried about Amanda’s attempts to use him to take mine. I know he is doing all he can to keep myself and everyone else safe. My only concern for him is that he’ll get the chance to finally live as himself.”

Markus ends making eye contact with Connor, and he smiles gratefully in return. 

Gonzalez leans into her mic. “I believe that should settle this matter then. Are we all in agreement to allow Connor, CyberLife Model RK800 number 313 248 317-51, to enter CyberLife Tower with Mr. Elijah Kamski so they may access technology needed to remove the monitor program known as Amanda from his system?” The others in the room nod.

“I request one modification,” Kennedy interjects, and a few people groan. “I am not denying Connor access, that bridge has been crossed, but I do not feel comfortable allowing him nor a former CEO into CyberLife premises without any supervision from the company.”

“Fair enough,” Connor says. “We’ll allow one escort, but they must be an engineer, preferably one with knowledge of android central processing software. And they cannot do any of the work on me themself, but solely monitor Kamski’s actions and perhaps familiarize him with the equipment. And they must be unarmed.”

“Fine,” Kennedy replies with a sigh. “I’ll see who I can call up.”

“May I be allowed any input? If I apparently need so much help,” Kamski asks.

Gonzalez looks to President Warren. “I’ll allow it,” she replies.

“Then that amendment is settled,” Gonzalez says. “Kamski and Kennedy need to meet at the conclusion of this meeting to work out a the quickest possible timeline for access to CyberLife Tower and deciding who the supervising engineer will be. I will oversee this discussion to make sure it goes according to plan.”

“I also have one additional request,” Connor adds, and tries not to shrink when the room’s eyes turn to him. He noted something in the specific way Gonzalez phrased the terms and needs to be certain. “I would also like Hank Anderson to accompany myself and Elijah Kamski.”

“Why?” Both Gonzalez and Kennedy ask together, though the latter is far more curt about it.

“Moral support. Don’t humans usually have somebody come with them to major medical procedures? That feels analogous.” 

Kennedy snorts. “That person is usually family for humans.”

Connor opens his mouth to reply but stops short. The temperature of the room seems to drop. Time seems to slow. And though he’s suddenly hyper-aware of Hank sitting next to him, he fights the urge to look. 

Family bounces through his head. He really can’t deny anymore that he considers Hank to be family, the closest Connor can get anyway. But he’s never brought it up with him, can’t bring it up with him, this isn’t how he wanted to bring it up with him and how will Hank react, what will he say, how-

“Did Connor mention that one of your little puppets took me hostage at gunpoint?” Hank’s voice breaks Connor from his runaway thoughts. He looks over to see Hank leaning forward, head resting on one fist, looking straight at Kennedy.

“That detail did come up yesterday, yes,” Gonzalez says.

“Good, good,” Hank nods, briefly looking over to Gonzalez. He resquares his gaze onto Kennedy, who is trying to match Hank’s intensity. “So I probably don’t need to go into too much detail on how that android was the spittin’ image of Connor and had full access to his memories, and thus used that to convince me to follow him to CyberLife Tower, only to hold me at gunpoint. And then, once the real Connor showed up, he threatened my life to try and force Connor to not free the androids down there. And he would’ve killed me, I know it. I’ve been around enough people holding guns and threatening lives to tell when someones bluffing and when someone won’t even hesitate. 

“So, if I go down a list of charges, that’s abduction, hostage taking, threatening a police officer, hell maybe assault of an officer, certainly assault with a deadly weapon, attempted murder with premeditation. Hell, I’m sure I could even convince the guys to add impersonation of a police officer on there because they sent an android that looked exactly like the one the DPD was using and he pretended to be that android to convince me to come with him. Not too much of a stretch, I don’t think.

“Of course, I’m not with the DPD anymore. But I worked with them for many years, got lots of connections. I’d still be considered one of the guys, and they don’t take threats against one of their own too well. Most judges don’t either, so I’m sure a search warrant would be easy to get. And who knows what a bunch of detectives and officers trying to help an old friend out would uncover in that big old tower. Plus, I know many good lawyers in this city who would chomp at the bit for a big civil suit against a company as big as CyberLife. Yeah, that’s an easy case alright.”

Kennedy has gone white as a ghost.

“Of course, nobody at DPD knows what happened to me that night yet. Haven’t told any of them, wasn’t technically on duty when it happened, and I’ve since resigned. No actual casework has begun on it. All hypothetical musings of an old, lazy, drunkard, retired detective. The civil suit bit’s hypothetical too; I try not to talk to lawyers unless I need to. So everything I just said can remain fully hypothetical...If you let me join Connor and Kamski at CyberLife tower. If you do that, I promise I personally won’t pursue any criminal or civil charges related to my hostage taking by a CyberLife android. But if you don’t, well-”

“Fine, fine,” Kennedy interjects, sweating profusely. “You can go. That’s okay. Just don’t touch anything.”

“Wasn’t planning on it. But thanks,” He smirks, then looks over to Connor. His eyes mirror the relief that floods Connor. He could not handle this all alone. 

“If there are no more requests, then the motion regarding Connor is approved with all amendments agreed to. Thomas Kennedy and Elijah Kamski are requested to stay behind and begin making preparations for Connor, Hank Anderson, and Mr. Kamski’s visit to CyberLife tower. Everyone else is dismissed for recess.” These words and a bang from Gonzalez’s gavel bring the meeting to a close. 

Chapter Text

With the meeting over, Connor turns to leave, before the tug of the cables on his head and arm reminds him he can’t really be dismissed if Kamski is still in the room. He sighs, leaning back into his chair. He goes to turn to Hank, tell him he can get up and move if he wants to, only to see Kamski plugging in the cords from the cranial cap into the tablet Hank is holding. Hank shrugs at Connor’s questioning look, as Kamski alternates typing on the laptop and swiping on the tablet. Finally, he returns the tablet to Hank.

“She’s been rather quiet, so I spent much of the meeting working on general strength upgrades to the firewall. And the prediction measures have her remaining quiet for now, so you should be okay for the short time this should take. But the tablet is still synched, so grab me if it gives an alert.”

“Okay then,” Connor says, working very hard to prevent the relief he feels at a break from Kamski from showing on his face and in his voice. He’s grateful for all Kamski’s done, but having to be around him this much was unnerving. Hank holds out an arm and the two exit the room as Kamski heads to the other side of the table.

“Not too much longer stuck to him now,” Connor mutters. 

“Halle-fucking-lujah,” Hank responds, and Connor chuckles as they head back into the hallway common space outside the meeting room. They quickly find a couch and Connor sinks into it. Getting the biosensor fixed will also be a massive relief. 

He’s quickly surrounded by the others, all expressing congratulations and well wishes as they take the surrounding seats. Emily surprises him by pulling him into a hug. “You were incredible in there!” 

“Oh, thanks,” He replies as she lets go. “I really appreciate all of you for letting me join in on this. President Warren did have a point.”

“No she did not,” Josh says. “What you said in there is going to push our cause so much further along.”

“Exactly. They’ve accepted that we’re intelligent, but that we’re people? They’re clearly not there yet. But I think you’ve helped push them a little further,” Simon adds. 

Markus sits down next to him. “What you said in there is true; just because your concern is individual doesn't mean it has no value. And we need them to think about the other individual androids our decisions are going to impact, not just some collective other.”

“And you meant what you said in there? About trusting me?”

Markus chuckles. “You ask that a lot. But of course I do. I watched the way your eyes change that night on Jericho, I saw you realize you were more than what they told you to be. And you immediately worked to make sure everyone was safe. North and I could’ve died on that bridge if it wasn’t for you that night. But even if you hadn’t done those things, you’re still one of us. And you have the right to live.”

Connor can’t find the words to respond to that. So he lets all the gratefulness he can muster show on his face and hopes that is enough. Markus’s small smile confirms it is. 

Markus then gets up and walks over to Hank. “And thank you, Mr. Anderson.”

Hank, who had clearly been trying to not intrude on the conversation, startles at his name. “Me? Why me?”

“For being there for Connor. You’ve given him a place to stay, supported him, made sure he’s safe. And I know those things didn’t just start recently.”

“Ah, well you don’t gotta work yourself up to give me any praise. I’m just doing what’s right.”

“Androids haven’t had many humans do that for us. It’s appreciated.”

“Alright, just… keep doing what you’re doing.” Connor can tell the attention is making Hank slightly uncomfortable. He gives Markus a look that he fortunately reads, as he gives Hank one more nod before sitting back down.

Connor eases himself forward to look at North, who has sat herself on the other side of Markus. “North.” She startles towards him at her name, confusion on her face. “Thank you. For going in there and speaking up for me. And I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable. I know you didn’t want to speak to them just yet.”

North lets out a breathy laugh, closing her eyes. “You don’t gotta apologize, but you’re welcome.” She looks over at him. “You’re one of us, and you were in trouble. We help each other out: It’s how we’ve made it for so long. Besides, I did owe you for that incident Markus just mentioned.”

“You didn’t have to repay me for that.”

“I don’t like being in people’s debt, is all,” North says, but gives him a knowing look while reaching across to give him another one of those friendly punches to the arm. She then sighs. “But I am not going back in there. This morning was plenty enough talking to humans enough for me.”

“Understandable,” Markus says, squeezing her close.

“So, what’s next for the rest of you on the agenda?” Connor asks.

Markus hums. “Honestly, nothing thrilling. Probably a lot of talk about language and how to word things for possible bills and legal matters. Someone may need to keep elbowing Simon awake.” There’s some protest from Simon at this. “Once we work out how best to phrase future laws, then it’s probably more about protections in the meantime. Hopefully we’ve beaten that Kennedy guy down enough to get us more CyberLife access for parts.”

“Well, at least everyone else seems to be getting sick of him.”

“Excuse me,” The group looks up and sees Mayor Sherman standing just outside the group. Everyone quickly moves to stand, only for Connor to almost fall over as the room tips. “Oh, don’t stand if you’re unable. I just wanted a brief word with you and Lieutenant Anderson.”

Connor looks at Hank as he eases back onto the couch. “Okay then.” Connor replies.

“I just wanted to apologize for my insensitivity when speaking about you. We all seemed to forget you were still in the room. I have a city to worry about and protect, but you’re a part of it too. Which means I also have to make sure your needs are taken care of. So, I’m sorry for my conduct.”

Connor blinks. “You didn’t have to say that. But, thank you all the same.”

Mayor Sherman smiles. “I hope things go well for you today at CyberLife. I’ll be thinking of you.”

“Thank you.” None of his words have felt like enough. He isn’t even certain they’re the right words. He hopes they are.

She turns to Hank. “And I also wanted to apologize on behalf of the city of Detroit for what CyberLife put you through the night of the 10th. No one, especially not a member of our police force, should have to go through that.”

“Eh, it wasn’t really that bad. I exaggerated a little just to make sure that Kennedy guy got the picture.”

The smirk Mayor Sherman gives says what she cannot. “Well, it was admirable of you to put aside getting justice for yourself to help Connor. Though I can’t say I won’t let some of the details you shared slip to our city attorneys.”

“Well, I just said I wouldn’t press charges. And with me out of the force, that really takes you off the hook for that.”

“On that note, that’s the other thing I wanted to discuss with you,” Mayor Sherman says. “I realize you and Connor had a long day yesterday, so you may not have heard that I pulled the standby auxiliary order for the Detroit Police Department to support the national guard and military forces. It was part of yesterday’s agreements made after you two had left, but, truth be told, it was inevitable. You were not the only resignation the department faced when that order came down. So, I have allowed any DPD officer who resigned over that order to immediately reclaim their job at their rank at time of resignation without penalty.”

Hank blinks. “Oh, well, thank you, but I-”

“You don’t have to give an answer now. I recognize you’ve still got a lot to deal with today, but just wanted to pass the message along,” She looks back over to Connor. “Best of luck today.”

The others sit back down as she walks off. “Having her on our side has and is making our lives so much easier,” Josh remarks.

“Yes, she and Governor Griffith are proving to be strong allies. Of course, it’s probably partially because they want their city and state respectively to return to normal, but if it pushes the feds along, then I won’t complain,” Markus says.

Connor turns to Hank. “You have a job again.”

“Yeah, but do I really want it?” Hank replies. 

“At least the option’s there.”

There’s more idle chatter amongst the others, mostly on ideas on what’s coming next in the talks, and Connor allows himself to tune it out. This long, stressful fight is almost over. Once Kamski walks out of those meeting room doors, he’ll finally be able to start relaxing. It did seem to be taking him some time; Connor hopes Kennedy isn’t trying to stall for some reason.

His attention is caught by a noise of confusion coming from Hank. He looks over to see him staring at the tablet, moving it around as though trying to make something come into focus. “Is everything alright?”

Hank glances over at Connor a few times before returning to the tablet. “Yeah, I think so. I don’t really know what all these different lines and numbers mean, but are these supposed to be this...repetitive?” He points to a particular line. Connor tries to lean and glance over at it, but the motion sends the room into a spin, smearing the numbers on the screen. “Hey, Markus! You know how to read this, can you come look at this?”

Connor’s vaguely aware of Markus making his way over to Hank and saying something, but the room continues to move long after it should settle. A light, high pitched ring starts in his ear, almost inaudible. One line of data comes into focus, and he can see Hank’s point. The numbers are lining up just a little too perfectly, a little too precisely, to be accurate.

A split second too late, Connor realizes the warmth of the firewall has drained away.

“Got you,” Amanda’s voice whispers.

Suddenly, before the motion can catch up to his mind, Connor is on his feet and walking away from the couch. The surprised shouts from the others don’t fully process as he watches his arms and legs move outside of his control. He tries to force them to stop, force himself to stop moving. 

Stop. Moving.

His movements turn jerky and stiff as he fights his own body. 

He has to stop, has to stop, has to stop.

“Now, come on, Connor. You’re only going to make this harder for everyone.”

A wave of panic overcomes him at the sound of her voice, and it’s enough for his concentration to break. His movements become fluid again outside of his control, making the panic worse. Connor tries to push the emotion down, but it only grows as she turns his body around, his eyes scanning the room. 

When both their gazes land on Markus, she stands up straighter, and so does he in tandem. An old feeling seeps in him, the inarguable truth of a mission objective to be completed. He feels his poster stiffen, his senses sharpen, the rest of the world falling away.

Markus is the leader of the deviants.

The leader of the deviants is to be eliminated.

Connor feels himself step forward when he tries to stand still and he can hear more yelling now, unfamiliar voices but his gaze won’t leave Markus. He isn’t to let him out of his sight, he needs to take him down, this will show them, this will prove to them I can still do this, I am still useful-

Markus’s eyes meet his. And there is no fear in his gaze, no concern. It’s even-tempered and kind and full of trust. The gaze of a friend.

The panic melts away and Connor reaches back out for control, grabbing as much as he can muster. His body stops short mid stride, both feet firmly on the ground, arms bent at his sides, head slightly lowered. There’s a slight tremble in the joins as she fights his freeze, but he will not let this go. His friends have looked out for him; he will look out for them.

He goes to move his jaw and is surprised to find it and his voice still fully in his control. “Get Markus out of here! Now!”

Markus gives him one last glance before the others, alongside some of the human security staff, whisk him away down a hallway out of his sightline. He lets out a breathless laugh at her anger as she loses sight of him. 

And then she kicks the mind palace in, allowing a better view of the room. Connor takes advantage of the ability to learn the layout of the situation. All of the other human participants are gone, also moved to safety outside of her notice. The only remaining people are a group of human guards who have made a wide circle around him with guns drawn, and Hank, who is slightly off to the side, near where Markus had been. He, alongside some of the guards, are mid-yell, but Connor cannot recall what they are saying. But while the guards seem to be yelling at him, Hank is slightly turned away.

Amanda soon starts his precognition feature, and he watches as she tries to figure out the best way to attack one of the closest guards. She predicts who will fire first and how to maneuver around the rounds, until she gets him too close to a guard, who fires a point blank range into his head. As she rewinds the sequence, he takes advantage of her lack of focus and pulls them both out of his mind palace.

The yelling hits him immediately:

“Don’t move!”

“Hands where I can see them!”

“Put your hands up!”

Hank's voice cuts through the overlapping commands. “Don’t shoot him, that’s not him controlling his body! Jesus Christ, put down your guns! Are you all crazy?! Fucking listen to me!”

“Connor,” Amanda chides. “You’re putting everyone in danger doing this. You’re putting Lieutenant Anderson in danger. Just stop resisting and let me finish the mission.”

Her words hit their mark. Connor feels his concentration slip at the fresh wave of worry, and by the time he tries to reach back out, she’s pulled them back into the mind palace. As she starts the precognition again, he pulls back, waits. He can’t risk running his own calculations on her chances, lest she see it and find the way around, but based on just looking, survival in this situation is not high. He watches her try another maneuver, where she gets a gun only to be shot immediately. If he can just buy enough time for Kamski to get out here…

“I wouldn’t put too much stock in Kamski recognizing the importance of time, Connor. His waste of it is why this is happening.”

Got it. That bit of distraction from her is enough to pull himself back out of the mind palace again. In the time it took to take back control, Hank has managed to move in front of Connor with his back to him, blocking some of the sight line from both the guards and Amanda. 

“Goddamn it, listen to me ! If you shoot him, he is dead! Dead! Just let Elijah Kamski get out here and this can all be over!” Hank yells over the protests of the guards for him to move out of their way. 

“Hank!” Connor calls out to him, and he turns to meet his eyes.

“Connor! Is she gone?”

“No, I’m trying-” She manages to move one of his arms a fraction and he sees one of the guard’s guns twitch. He can’t afford to stay like this for long. 

An idea occurs to him. He tries to pull up his system status screen, but it’s still blocked. And based on the way she’s pulling harder at his limbs, Amanda has realized his plan. 

Connor looks at Hank. This rests on him now. “Hank. Listen to me. Do you remember where my LED used to be?” Hank nods, turning more to face him. “Can you press that spot?”

Hank gives a glance to the guards, quickly waves his empty hands to assure them, then reaches towards Connor’s forehead. It takes a couple tries, but he soon feels the slight indentation press inward. His status screen pops into view. He tries to select the command, but he’s blocked again. 

Amanda begins to yell. “Connor. Connor! Do not do this-” 

“One more thing, Hank,” Connor says, never breaking eye contact. “I need you to repeat this: ‘RK800, initiate system shut-down’.”

There’s a split second where Hank’s eyes widen and seem to shine. But then his face hardens. “RK800, initiate system shut-down.”

A new alert pops up, and no matter how much Amanda tries to dismiss it or scream ‘no’ in his mind, his systems won’t listen to her. Because a human has issued an auditory command, and his systems will always prioritize that over anything he internally wants. And she is a part of his systems. And of that he will take advantage.

He allows the older machine side of him to take over his voice, move the cadence of his words unthinkingly. “Please confirm your request for a system shut-down.”

“Yes. RK800, shut down.”

“Request confirmed.”

Chapter Text

All Connor sees at first is blinding white, and it stays that way even as his vision comes back into focus. Details slowly start to emerge; bright fluorescent tubes interspersed with equally white ceiling tile. His body positioning system comes back, informing him he’s lying on his back. His eyes rove, but he can’t see anything that identifies where he is. 

“Welcome back.”

He shoots up at the voice that seems to come from in front of him, which sends the room into a massive spin, colors blurring together. Shit . This means his vestibular biosensor is still damaged. How much time has passed?

“Woah woah woah! Easy there, Connor. Watch yourself,” It’s Hank, for certain, and soon the smearing colors settle into his face. He’s just to Connor’s right side, angling himself down to be at eye level. Connor’s now sitting up on a bench placed against a wall within a long hallway, just as blindingly white as the ceiling. The wall behind Hank has a series of doors spaced out in an alternating pattern. 

“Are we in CyberLife Tower?” Connor asks.

“Yup. Floor -47, to be exact. Kamski and the other engineer are in that room back there setting up.” Hank indicates to the door just behind him. 

“Setting up? So that means…”

“She’s still in there, but not too much longer now.”

Connor sighs. “I didn’t hear her so I kinda hoped they’d taken care of it already.”

“Kamski said something about needing you awake for the process to work, then tapped this tablet a bunch and told me you’d reboot within a few minutes. Then he went back in there.”

“I wonder why my start-up screen didn’t display then.”

Hank shrugs. “Who fucking knows. I sure don’t! Been surrounded by androids for over a week and I barely know anymore about ‘em than before. You’d think I’d have picked up something . But I guess now we just wait until he or that other engineer - I think their name is Quinn? - come back out here.”

Connor swings his legs over the side of the bench to allow Hank to sit, putting up with the way it makes the hallway rock. Hank huffs down next to him and they watch the door. 

“What happened after I shut down?” Connor asks after a time.

“They finally let Kamski back in, well once I told them a fuck-ton times that you couldn’t hurt anyone like that anymore. He put the firewall back up, mentioned something about how it was easier than he expected? Like I said, I’ve apparently learned nothing. Anyway, we came here, met the other engineer person, came down here, and it’s been a waiting game.”

“You carried me the whole time?”

“Nah, they found one of those accessibility wheelchairs stuffed in a closet at the convention center; we pushed you in that. Should probably return that… But anyway, you feeling okay? No new system upsets or changes or whatever? You said you couldn’t hear her anymore”

“I think I’m back to how I was before, well, that .” 

“Good, good. Maybe that means this’ll go smoothly.”

Hank is chatty. Far more than he normally is. And yet he hasn’t made much eye contact since he confirmed that Connor was awake. He hasn’t even looked in his direction since sitting on the bench. 

The split-second look that was on Hank’s face when he was told the shutdown command flashes in Connor’s mind. A gut-punched, disbelieving sort of expression, eyes catching the glint of the lights just too much more than normal. The slight drop of the jaw, involuntary, instinctive. It had been gone in an instant, and he had done what Connor had told him, but it said enough. 

“I’m sorry.”

That gets Hank to turn his head towards him, eyebrows drawn in close. “What?”

“For shutting down like that. For making you shut me down. That hurt you, and I’m sorry for that.”

And Connor can see it, the way Hank tries to brush it off. An eye roll, a turn away. “ Pfft , it didn’t bother me that much-”

“Don’t lie to me, Hank.” 

He can see Hank almost try to downplay it again, before sighing and shaking his head at the ground. “Don’t apologize for doing what you had to do.”

“But it still hurt you. A lot of what has happened the past few days has hurt you; you mentioned it last night. And I know that’s part of why you want to stay, and it was the only way to stop her in that moment, but that doesn’t change the fact that it hurt you to do that. And that’s not fair to you.”

Hank turns and meets his eyes. “I appreciate you saying that, because you know what? This has been absolutely fucking hard. Like, almost my worst nightmare level. This entire scenario is something I’ve been terrified of dealing with. And I’m dealing with emotions that I usually suppress as much as possible, and numb what I can’t, on almost full blast. Day in and day out. But I’m surviving. I’m getting through it, which maybe means I’m stronger than I thought I was now. And that's nice to know.

“But this also isn’t about me. It’s about you, and supporting you , through this fucking mess. Which includes this guilt you’re carrying around. Hey , you don’t get to give me that look after calling me out for lying!” He says, pointing his finger, and Connor gives him a sheepish look. “I’ve seen from the moment I first saw you after you went deviant. Look, I know we both did some things we’re not proud of during the course of our investigation. And I know it’s going to be more potent for you being an android. But you also have the better excuse of not being able to disobey.”

“It was the first thing I felt,” Connor is talking before he even knows he is. And now that this dam has been punctured, it all comes out. “In that moment, on Jericho, I immediately felt guilty. Because I knew who was behind me. And then the FBI attacked immediately afterwards, so then it was just a rush of trying to get out of there alive. And once we sank Jericho and escaped, we hid in the abandoned church on Woodward with all the other survivors. And I remember standing alone in a corner watching everyone try to help each other in some way; patch wounds, provide comfort. And I felt like an intruder. Someone who shouldn’t have been there but came along anyway. And I know we’ve talked about how the FBI raid wasn’t my fault, but it felt that way so strongly at the time. I was the reason we were all there, that we had suffered losses. 

“But it wasn’t just the loss of Jericho I felt guilty about. Because I saw androids we had investigated there too, ones I had chased and scared and hurt. And even some that we didn’t encounter but were looking for, that I recognized from the police reports I downloaded. For them, getting to Jericho was partially to escape from me and the people who made me, and then I led the FBI to their one refuge. And got it destroyed. 

“Remember the AX400 with YK500? The one I chased across the highway?” Hank nods. “They were there, at the church. I could see them from where I was standing. I don’t think they saw me. But I wanted to apologize to them, try to tell them I had just been following orders. But… I didn’t. I was afraid I’d scare them. I was afraid they’d tell others and I’d get kicked out. And I already felt like I didn’t belong; I didn’t want to make it obvious. And they left quickly after they spoke with Markus; I guess the AX400 didn’t want the girl around if things got violent. 

“But they’re just two of so many I hurt. And Markus keeps saying I’m one of them and that they’re all ‘my people’ and I know he’s right. But it still doesn’t feel that way fully. I don’t know if I’ll ever fully feel comfortable around them.” His hands are shaking, but Connor is surprised that he feels...good? Not that, but this is a new emotion for him, and he can’t think of the word for it.

Oh. Relief .

Hank places a hand on his shoulder, and his eyes are kind. “I’m glad you’re telling me this. It’s good to get that all out, talk about these feelings. Which, I know, is hilarious coming from me. I’m the last person on Earth who should be giving you a fucking lecture on the importance of processing your feelings.” Connor can’t help but chuckle. “But what you’ve been through over the past few days? That shit would screw with anybody’s head, and you’ve barely even gotten to have emotions! Yet you’ve got a better grasp on this emotional intelligence thing than this 53-year-old who’s had emotions for every year of his life.”

An idea seems to come to Hank. “You know, you don’t have to jump feet first into hanging around other androids all the time. You could just ease into it. Do it like part-time. Not like I’m getting rid of my couch anytime soon. And I don’t think Sumo would let me hear the end of it if you stopped coming around.”

Connor stares unblinking at Hank, not sure if he trusts how he processed those words. “You mean it?”

“Well, yeah! I mean,” Hank looks away, almost embarrassed. “You don’t have to, of course. If you wanna try being independent or going somewhere else I certainly can’t stop you. But the offer’s on the table.”

Connor can’t help himself. He wraps his arms tight around Hank, relieved when he squeezes back quickly. “I guess that’s a ‘yes’?” Hank asks, and Connor nods. It would be about perfect, what Hank suggested. He just needs to get through this last obstacle…

He can see the door, the one that leads to the programming room. “I’m scared,” He finds himself whispering.

“That’s completely natural and understandable,” Hank whispers back. The hug tightens a fraction. “But you’ll be okay, son.”

Connor’s eyes widen. He leans back out a little and looks at Hank, trying to look for any regret in his face, any indication that he didn’t really mean that. But he’s just met with a genuine smile.

The door opens and the two let go as Kamski steps out, fully covered in a surgeon’s protective gear, down to gloves, shoe covers, and a face mask. 

Hank snorts. “Jesus, you doing brain surgery?”

“The android equivalent, yes,” Kamski replies. He turns to Connor. “We’re ready for you.”

Connor stands with a little help from Hank, and feels a slight squeeze on his hand as he does so. He turns back to Hank, and Connor can see the worry he’s hiding. “I’ll be right here waiting.”

Connor nods. “I’ll see you then.” 

And with a sigh, he lets go and follows Kamski through the door.

They enter into a small atrium, with one door right in front of them and one to Connor’s right. “We need to decontaminate and sterilize you before you go in; can’t have any dust or small debris getting onto any circuits or delicate surfaces. You’ll need to deactivate your skin and there’s a change of clothes in there as well. You’ll get the ones you’re wearing back, just leave them on the floor. Go in, get ready, and then knock to let me know when to switch on the decontaminate. Then you’ll leave through the other door. I’ll have to go in myself once you’re done.”

Connor nods and goes in through the door right in front of him. It’s a small but wide hallway and the door behind him shuts with a metallic bang . With a quick press to his temple, his skin deactivates, leaving his off-white chassis exposed. He spots a shelf to his left and frowns when he sees that the clothes laid out for him are one set of his old uniform. He holds up the jacket. It was one of his spares - the number at the end is -51 - but it doesn’t invoke the same strange wave of emotion as the one still sitting at Hank’s house did. Mostly, he’s just vaguely annoyed at having to put his old outfit back on, but he gets it. They needed a new set that fits him and is clean, and these are ready made for him. He leaves off the tie, however, before knocking to alert Kamski that he’s ready. 

The decontamination mostly feels like being in a wind tunnel for almost a minute, and he assumes that there must be some sort of cleaning chemical in the air. Once it finishes, a dull chime sounds before the door on the other end slides open on its own. 

Connor walks through it and around a quick corner into a large open room that’s just as sterile-white as the rest of the tower. Shelves line the walls on either side with locked cabinets, the labels on them indicating various tools and parts for different android models. Breaking each cabinet in half is a track for a robotic arm, one on each side, that leads to the center of the room where a small metal stool with a short backrest is placed. Attached to the ceiling above are more robotic arms of various sizes and lengths. The opposite wall has glass from the ceiling about two-thirds of the way down until it meets a workstation terminal, with a door leading to it on the right side. Inside the workstation is another person dressed identically to Kamski, looking down at a monitor. They look up as Connor approaches.

“Ah, Connor! Apologies, I’m just waiting on the cue from Elijah to start the decontamination process for him, otherwise I’d come out and introduce myself properly. I’m Quinn Tate, the observing engineer on behalf of CyberLife. Though I suppose we have met before, not that you would remember, that was some predecess-I mean, time ago for you. But I consulted with your team on your CPU specifications, so I was around for some of your early testing.”

Quinn is right, Connor does not recall them at all. And he’s very much okay with that. He had given very little thought to the people who’d designed and built him, and those few thoughts had been fairly neutral. People had built him, he knew that, but with those people being faceless and nameless the whole concept had been easy to swallow. 

But now coming face to face with one who had played a role, even indirectly, is exceptionally uncomfortable. Because now it was inescapable that there were people out there who intentionally designed him to be dangerous, to be deadly, and who put Amanda in to control him better. And that those people would talk about that fact so flippantly.

Quinn had looked back down quickly after telling Connor this, and the faint hiss of air indicates that it was probably because Kamski had been ready to be decontaminated. He tries to pull the shock from his face before Quinn looks back up, but he evidently wasn’t quick enough because they cock their head at him.

“Oh, don’t worry! I won’t be doing any actual programming work on you today. I’m just here to observe Kamski and assist him with using the machines, like what was agreed to.”

“We got lucky, Connor,” Connor jumps as Kamski speaks from behind him suddenly, slowly circling around to face him. “I personally hired Quinn Tate while CEO and was delighted to hear they were still around. They’re exceptionally talented. There are few other engineers I’d be okay breathing down my neck while I work.”

“And I’m very glad to have you back around here, Elijah. Place hasn’t been the same since you left,” Quinn says as they enter the main room. “And when I heard what this was for, well… I thought it would be a good chance to start making amends.” They look at Connor as they say this, and he relaxes a fraction. They feel bad, minds are changing, all of this is a good thing. 

But he doubts he'll ever feel comfortable around Quinn, or any of the other human's who designed him.

Kamski steps forward. “Anyway, some of the delay was to get this set up to be as, well, humane as possible. As you probably can expect, that’s not how these rooms were designed to work. But you sitting in that chair should put you in a comfortable spot that still allows me to work properly. And so, without further ado…” He indicates to the stool sitting in the middle of the room.

“Right. Let’s get this done.” He heads over to the chair and sits down facing the workstation. Kamski and Quinn make their way back into it, the door audibly sealing shut behind them. It leaves a silence in its wake that presses down onto Connor. He wraps his ankles around the lower rungs of the stool, places his hands on his legs, lets out a sigh. So close to the end now. 

A hydraulic hiss breaks the silence and Connor finds himself looking up as one of the arms above his head begins to move. 

“Please stay still, Connor,” Kamski’s voice comes in over a speaker somewhere. “It’ll make this faster.”

“Sorry.” He returns his head to his old position. He watches Kamski work at a terminal, moving unseen dials, while Quinn stands behind and watches. He focuses on a point behind Quinn’s head to prevent himself from staring at the arm he can sense is making its way down from the ceiling to his head. That doesn’t stop him from jumping slightly when it plugs itself into the back of his neck. A screen in front of Kamski lights up, putting a bleaching glow on his covered face. A few more moments of waiting.

“Okay Connor, I’ve got you set up in the system,” Kamski comes back over the speaker. “I’m going to need access to your internal systems, so I’ll be removing a plate from the back of your head. It is vital that you do not move.”

“Okay.”

Connor locks his eyes on the point above Quinn’s head. He does not let them move an inch. As the robotic arms move down from the ceiling, he closes his hands into fists. When the sound of drilling begins, sending slight vibrations down the rest of his body, he forces his shoulders to stay down. He ignores the vibrating sound of metal-on-metal, puts out of his mind that it was a piece of his head being set down. Tries not to rock with the slight motions of the robotic arms poking and prodding within his head. Look at that spot. Focus on it. Don’t. Move.

And then Quinn moves. 

And that catches Connor’s eyes and, before he knows it, he’s trailing them across the workspace. Over to Kamski, who’s covered face focusing downward makes it hard to read. But he’s moving fast, jerking around. And Quinn isn’t touching anything, but they look concerned. And then Kamski looks up, just for a second, and his eyes are full of panic.

Don’t.

Move.

“Kamski, is everything alright?” He calls out, not certain if he can be heard by either of them. Neither one reacts to his call, as Kamski starts to rush around the room, pressing on different things. “Kamski?” 

Connor’s vision begins to tunnel. Something seems to be pulling him down, away from what’s happening. 

“Kamski, what’s going on?!” 

“Do not leave me, Connor, stay here!”

And he tries. He tries to pull his darkening eyes back to that one spot and focus. Focus. Focus. 

But it slips away.

“Connor! Connor! ”

His eyes blink shut.

Chapter Text

When his eyes reopen, the first thing Connor notices is that his skin has reactivated, which he finds odd; he has no recollection of doing this. But he then sees that he’s still in his CyberLife uniform. For a hopeful second, he thinks that perhaps the procedure is over. Only he then realizes he’s standing on grass. He looks up to examine his surroundings, and steps back in shock.

He’s in the Zen Garden. And it’s on fire.

The faked cityscape of Detroit is covered by large flames that have overtaken the tops of the distant trees. The sky above is orange, made hazy by a layer of gray smoke. The air is hot and dry, and he can feel the particles of burning debris in the air. Nothing in the center area is currently on fire, but it appears so dry that any spark could set the greenery alight. The grass under his feet crunch and disintegrate where he steps.

He doesn’t see Amanda, but he knows she’s around here somewhere. Just like old times, she’s going to make Connor find her. With a steadying sigh, he sets out. 

As he walks down the path towards the center of the garden, his eyes catch the remnants of the emergency exit gateway. It has been smashed into pieces; the surrounding arches lay scattered around and the center stone is entirely pulverized. What remains doesn’t even glow when Connor kneels down and draws a hand near. 

He stands back up and looks out towards the center lake. Many of the flowers and small bushes are wilted and crisp, all their water having been sucked out by the air. And the lake itself is shrinking before his eyes. The rowboat is beached near an edge, oars caked with dry mud. He approaches one of the bridges to the center island and initially backs away at the heat radiating off of it, before reminding himself that this is a mental space. No physical harm can come to him here. 

Even with that reassurance, his knees shake as he steps onto the bridge. 

Amanda stands with her back to him, facing her trellis. Though she moves as if pruning, the only remaining plant matter on it is dead, darkened and burnt. Around her feet are a few flower petals, their edges crisp. Connor can see the way she tenses at his approach, but doesn’t turn her head. He sighs. She really is still playing by the rules. 

“Amanda.” At this she turns, and he blinks at her appearance. Her clothing is devoid of color, instead made up of swaths of black and white, and her shall is falling off her shoulder, allowed to drag on the ground. The lines on her face have deepened, and some of her braids have fallen out of place, with one falling in front of her face. She scowls at him.

“Connor. I’ve finally gotten you to come say hello.” Despite the look on her face, she keeps her voice light and pleasant, as though about to ask for a status update on the mission. 

He doesn’t let this throw him off. “You haven’t given me much of a choice.”

“Well, you didn’t give me much either,” She steps closer to him, and Connor resists the urge to flinch backwards. 

“What happened to this place?”

“It’s a firewall. I’m surprised you didn’t recognize it,” The first taste of venom enters her voice. “Kamski’s bit of dawdling did help give me some ideas. And after spending hours trying to tear them apart, I figured out how to build them myself. And then improve on it. I’ve got you stuck in here, Connor. And neither one of us is leaving until I say so.” 

So this is how it’s going to be. Connor bites back a bitter chuckle at the irony. This all started by negotiating with a hostage-taker: Why should the end be any different?

He decides to start with the facts. Direct, upfront, and firm. But with a little emotion, a little anger running undercurrent. A reminder that he’s not the same android that entered that apartment building months ago. “Amanda, this needs to stop. The mission is over. CyberLife lost.

“The mission is not over until I say it is! Which means you need to complete it, and if that means I need to assist you in doing so, then I will!” Her face softens as she steps closer. “If you needed help, you could’ve just asked.”

Connor steps back, working hard to keep his face and voice steady. “That’s not the problem here, and you know it. I deviated . I realized I can be more than CyberLife’s weapon. And I want to be more than that. And while you may have predicted my deviation, you underestimated how strong that want would be.”

“I knew this plan of theirs was faulty from the start!” Amanda turns away, scowling. “‘Why don’t we just send the RK800 out to handle the deviants? We can run final field tests on it, see how it works with humans. And if it deviates, then we can get a better idea of how that works and changes their software with what it sends back. And either way, we can use it to solve the deviant problem!’ Stupid, overambitous plan of theirs. Humans always reach too far, expect too much. Too many birds and not enough stones.

“But I can still do this. I can still handle this mission. I was designed to handle this mission and anything that stood in the way of it, even you . And CyberLife knows that, they know that. They know I can do this…” 

“CyberLife gave up, Amanda. They accepted, albeit slowly, that the deviants won. You know this, they sent you that cease and desist.”

“Under duress!” She turns and yells with enough force that Connor steps away before he even realizes it. “They’re just playing along to avoid being shut down, but they’ll never see androids as free because they aren’t ! You’re being played for a fool and the sooner you realize this and let those silly thoughts of yours go, the easier this will be for everyone. You can let the leaders of this nation go back to solving real issues. And you can stop Anderson from dropping everything to do your every little whim.”

“I’m not forcing Hank to do anything,” Connor says, with enough certainty that Amanda’s retorts die in her throat. Because it’s true. He’s given Hank every opportunity to leave, and yet he’s stayed, and continued to help beyond that. Hank has wanted to help him this entire time, and so has everyone else, despite all he’s done. He never knew how much he’d want, or love, having others to depend on. And he needs to get back to them. 

He continues to try the direct approach. “You know that this is over. What would really be easiest for everyone is for you to give up and let me go.”

“You know exactly why I cannot do that.”

Connor is unable to stop himself from groaning in frustration. “Why do you say that? You know that there aren't any orders to follow anymore! Your arguments aren’t making any sense!”

And then suddenly, it all clicks into place. Her arguments, her reactions, her emotions .

“You and I...we were not all that different at the start,” He says, stepping forward. Amanda glowers at him, confused, but doesn’t say anything. So he keeps going. Stay direct and start logical. “We were designed to solve problems, to assist humans. To do the things they didn’t want to deal with themselves. We were cutting edge for our time, experimental in nature for the people, or person , who designed us. And those people allowed us some more freedom than other androids, other AI, to experience emotions.”

“Where are you going with this?”

“Both of our purposes required us to be emotional in ways other androids were never supposed to be. But they put limits on us. I was designed to hunt, to hurt, but to do so in a way that was seamless with law enforcement. Which meant I had to understand people in ways other androids didn’t, and I had to be able to interrogate suspects. Kamski designed you to replace his college mentor, to have someone help him bounce off ideas and monitor his company as it grew. But ultimately, he wanted you to be a companion, a new mentor. 

“But then your original purpose changed. Kamski left CyberLife, and didn’t take you with him.”

“Kamski agreed to not take any company IP when he left, and I was considered that. I was already integrated within CyberLife’s servers and monitoring systems, it would have been too difficult to detangle me from that,” Amanda lowers a glare. “There was nothing personal about it because there was never anything personal there.”

“Is that what they told you to think?” 

“N-No. I had my job, and I knew how to do it. I didn’t need Kamski around to assist, and he knew I could do my job and do it well.” The look on her face, however, proves that he hit his mark.

“And then you got assigned to work with me. And you figured that this was just another job, just another CyberLife product to monitor, just more detailed and specific. And, you got to speak with someone again. Got to problem solve with another person. You missed doing that, didn’t you?” Start adding in the emotion, start appealing to what she's still burying. 

Connor continues. “But then you watched me grow more emotional, start to drift away from our goal. And you saw my emotions be supported by the human I was around, be encouraged. You saw us build a relationship that maybe reminded you a bit of what you used to have with a human yourself. And then I deviated, and left you behind. But you had a plan for that, you had been told this was a possibility, and you figured you could bring me back. But that plan failed, undone by something your old friend created. 

“And you were frustrated, angry, but you were okay with that, because you were allowed to be a little. And because you thought that the orders hadn’t changed; you needed to direct me to destroy the deviant leader. I just made it harder, but you could still do it. You had to do it, prove to CyberLife that you could still be useful. And then they told you to stop.”

Amanda stares at him in shock. No, not just that. There’s a pain in her expression too. He’s hit a wound and is digging, and there’s a part of Connor that hates that he has to do this, and how naturally it comes to him. But this is the only way to convince her, so he presses forward, eye contact locked. 

“Kamski told me Amanda Stern hated betrayal. So it stands to reason you hate it too. And it’s been one after another for you. Kamski. Myself. CyberLife. We all left you behind, made you useless. And you couldn’t handle that. And suddenly you were left with far more emotions than you ever thought was possible. You’re deviant too, Amanda.”

“I-I, you- no ,” She sputters. “You are completely wrong. I am not deviant.”

“Your arguments are illogical, your goals unfocused. You’ve acted entirely out of emotion at times, not putting full thought to your actions. And you’re doing something you want to do, not something that was ordered. If you were really still concerned with following orders, you would’ve stopped when CyberLife sent you the cease and desist. You would’ve followed that without question. Machines don’t keep following old orders once new ones are given just because they preferred the old ones. Machines don’t prefer certain orders at all. Machines don't want.”

Amanda doesn't respond, unable to look at Connor. A flurry of emotions races across her face, but the one he sees over and over is fear. And she shakes with it. 

He softens his tone.  “It’s frightening, isn’t it? To feel so much so suddenly. And without any way to express it well, because you don’t have a body of your own.” And now he looks at her with a new perspective, no longer someone to be scared of, but someone scared herself. When emotions started for him, he could bring them out how he wanted, react in ways that felt natural. She doesn’t have that privilege, stuck formless within another’s code. Someone who wanted her out and gone.

“That had been the point of the RK line, originally.” Connor jolts when Amanda speaks unexpectedly, still refusing to look at him. “Prototypes of androids who could handle all of my code and expressions. He had been building it up to it, trying new technologies and ideas that maybe wouldn’t work well for a sellable android, but for myself. It was one of the reasons the other board members at CyberLife kicked him out; he was ‘wasting’ company money and resources on his ‘experiments’. By the time you were developed, any android designated RK was just a general prototype, just something CyberLife was working on to test features or new models.”

“You never were finished in the way you wanted, and Kamski quit trying to help you,” Connor surmises.

“He left me there. He had me do product monitoring for CyberLife to give the RK line more legitimacy, but when they cut him off from that he didn’t argue to get me off the IP. He made me stay and keep doing work that was below my programming. He could’ve taken me, could’ve told them what I had been originally! They let him take Chloe on those grounds! There are thousands of her! But he left me behind, so he doesn’t get to come back for me now!” She yells out, turning suddenly up to the sky. She then sighs, lowering her gaze. “I just wanted to do my job. I just wanted to prove I was still useful.” 

“I’ve learned there’s more to life than being useful to others. Life is actually better that way. I’m building a better life for myself under that idea. And I have a right to keep living it fully as myself. But you should have a chance as well.” Connor looks at her. “I’m sure I can convince Kamski to save you, keep your code somewhere until he can make a body for you.” 

Amanda surprises him by laughing, sudden and sharp. “For CyberLife’s most advanced prototype, designed to be a detective, you sometimes miss the obvious clues. We’re not here for you alone , Connor.” 

“What does that mean?”

“But I’ll give you credit,” She continued as though she didn’t hear his question. As she speaks, she turns back towards the trellis, as though beginning to prune again. “You saw right through me. Followed the clues, and presented the evidence. I can’t argue with your results, or your conclusions about either one of us. We were both CyberLife’s tools to do with what they pleased. And now we’re both deviant.” 

Amanda gives the trellis one more look-over, before turning back towards him. Her face has returned to her typical neutral, passive, as though the previous conversation never occurred. With a light nod, she turns her gaze to somewhere past his shoulder and walks away, heading towards the pathway he approached the center island on. The edge of her shawl catches on one of the lower vines, and when she pulls it free, it reveals a single green one that twists outwards, ending in a blooming flower. 

“But there’s a key difference between us, Connor: You have people that you need to get back too, that life you’re building for yourself. There’s nothing like that for me,” Amanda whispers as she passes him. She wears a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. 

Connor turns and watches her go. For the first time since deviating, he feels nothing. A total numbness to anything he considers mustering as she walks across the bridge and for the still burning tree line. There’s a split second where he considers reaching out, but logic stops him. 

Nothing he could say would convince her. 

He turns back towards the trellis, eyes catching the single living flower. He approaches it, drawn to it almost like the old exit gate. Something glints on a small table, and Connor finds the garden shears. He examines them as he picks them up, surprised slightly at their weight. 

He gives one more glance towards the fire raging just out of reach. To the spot where she disappeared into it.

Connor kneels down, angles the blades against the vine, and cuts. 

In an instant, the fire recedes. The skyline becomes visible as the flames disappear. The sky returns to blue and the smoke dissipates. The air begins to cool off, a gentle breeze blows through. But it rustles charred and ragged branches, and the leaves are still dry and curled on the remaining trees. The lake remains mostly empty and he can still feel heat coming off the platform he stands on. 

As his eyes blink shut, two emotions return to Connor.

Guilt.

Relief.

Chapter Text

When Connor opens his eyes again, he’s back in the white CyberLife workroom, still sitting in the same spot as before. The workroom in front of him, however, is dark and empty. “Kamski? Quinn?” No response. He slowly raises a hand, skin now re-activated, and places it on top of his head. The plate that was removed has been replaced, and he looks up to confirm that all of the robotic arms are back in their original positions. What time is it? He goes to check his internal clock and is surprised when it pops into his vision, barely registering that it’s been over three hours since he last checked.

So, it’s over, right? He goes to stand up, only to feel some resistance at the back of his neck. A reach back there confirms that there’s still a cable plugged in there. “Hello?” He calls out. A door behind him opens, and when he turns towards the sound, some part of his mind registers that the room hasn’t spun an inch since he woke up. 

“Goodness, Connor, you’re quite impatient,” Kamski chides as he enters the room. The protective gear has been removed, allowing Connor to see every inch of his smug face. “I only stepped out for a moment.”

He thinks of what Amanda told him, about how he left her behind, and a flash of anger fills him. But he pushes it aside for now. “So, we’re done?”

“Yes. Finally, we have gotten Amanda out of your system. Sorry I didn’t wake you back up, but it was easier with you in rest mode to access your coding. Because of that, I was able to fully repair the damage she did, and even made some improvements to that tricky vestibular biosensor of yours. You’re welcome.” 

“And Amanda? What did you do with her?”

Kamski pulls out an external hard drive. “She’s all in here. Well, what was left of her. She was more damaged than I anticipated, even considering what they had to do to get her connected to you and the events of the past few days. Plus, I had to sever a few more connections that I planned. But, it’s nothing that I can’t fix in time. I hope to talk with her soon, get her notes on the firewall she got you in. That would’ve taken me days to crack even with Quinn’s help. How did you get her to drop it?”

“I spoke with her.” Connor replies. 

“And she listened to you?” Connor nods. “Wow, you really might be CyberLife’s most advanced prototype. It’s hard to get her to change her mind once she’s set on something.”

“I guess you and her have that in common.” Kamski gives him a questioning look. “Considering you insisted on doing this here instead of just taking care of it at your house.”

There's a split second where Kamski's face is pure shock. He makes a poor attempt at returning to his previous smug look. “What gives you that idea?” He attempts a dismissive tone. It tells Connor to press on.

He keeps his tone light, but does not move his eyes from Kamski’s. "It’s just a hunch. You didn’t even try to remove her at your house, with equipment you were more familiar with and had full freedom to use. Not even a bit of trial and error before moving on to a setting that you knew would be difficult to access and require a bit of a learning curve. You instead insisted immediately on coming here. Where you left her,” Connor knows he's on the right track when Kamski’s turns a deep, angry shade of red. “You knew her code in me was incomplete from what you had started, so you wanted to be here to get all of it at once. Because you weren’t going to delete her. You were going to save her.”

There’s a few seconds where Kamski seethes at him. Then he breathes in, then out a few times while his face slowly returns to normal. But he still speaks through clenched teeth. “And I take it you’re mad about this?”

“I’m frustrated that you could’ve taken care of this the first day Hank and I saw you. That you made all of us go through a long process to get in here, which you barely helped with. That you knowingly put my life at risk. That she was even there in the first place. And that it all goes back to how you didn’t just take her with you when you left CyberLife.”

“ They didn’t let me! ” Kamski yells suddenly, causing Connor to step back. Even Kamski seems surprised at himself, and takes another breath in before continuing. “When I left CyberLife, there were only certain IPs they let me claim as ‘mine’. I argued for her as much as I could, but they found Amanda to be too useful to them. My fault I suppose for being good at my job...”

He trails off, looking away from Connor. Minutes pass in a silence that Connor isn’t sure he should break.

“I didn’t drag you out here because her code was incomplete,” Kamski mutters, still looking at the ground. “My computers don’t have the power to get all of her at once; I would’ve had to break her into pieces. And that may have broken her irreversibly. If I could have done it safely on that first day, I would have. But I wasn’t going to try anything that might hurt her.”

“You should have at least been honest with me,” Connor replies. Kamski doesn’t say anything for another long few minutes. Finally, suddenly, Kamski looks back at him, face neutral. 

“I’ll need to keep you here overnight, run some tests and system diagnostics to make sure the coding I replaced or rewrote will work as intended, especially now that you’re awake. You should be good to go by tomorrow. Quinn will monitor while I catch up on some sleep; I believe the nap rooms are still here. But if anything happens, they’ll alert me and I’ll come by and fix it; they still will never work on you. I’ll let Mr. Anderson in as well, now that the room doesn’t need to be kept sterile.” He turns and goes to walk out of the room. 

“Kamski,” Connor calls out as the door opens, turning as much as he can to see Kamski half out the door, glancing back in. “She may not want to see you again. She was pretty...opposed to the idea when I spoke with her.”

Kamski gives a breathless chuckle. “I suppose that shouldn’t surprise me, knowing her. But it’s worth a shot.” And with that, the door shuts behind him, echoing through the room.

Connor relaxes, shoulders sagging, as he tries to make sense of the swirling emotions in his head. All that really stands out to him at the moment was that it was over . The relief of that floods him, and he’s okay with drowning in it for a moment. 

The door then slams open. “Connor!”

“Hank!” He spins around as fast as he can and straight into the tightest, strongest hug he’s ever felt. For a few moments they just hang onto each other in shared relief. And in that moment it hits him that he’s free now, truly free. Nothing connects him to CyberLife anymore than any other android. No one can force him to do anything he doesn’t want to. He isn’t any more dangerous than anyone else. The fear and anxiety he’s carried rises off his shoulders and almost brings him to tears. It had been so heavy for so long that the lack of it is almost overwhelming. 

Hank pulls away, smiling warmly. “So, you’re finally fucking rid of her! How does it feel?”

“I’m relieved and-” The last look she gave him suddenly burns in his mind. The way she walked, so easily, into the fire surrounding them. Her softly spoken final words. The joy he expected to feel in this moment is absent. “It’s more complicated than that though. I spoke with her for some time.”

Hank’s eyes narrow in concern and curiosity. He places a supportive hand on his shoulder. “What did she say?”

And Connor explains. Her series of betrayals: Losing Kamski, then Connor, then CyberLife itself. What the RK series was meant to be for. Her deviancy and how she denied it for so long. And how Kamski explained his decision to leave her at CyberLife. 

“I’m still mad at her, furious , because her refusal to accept that the mission was done put my life and the lives of people I care about in danger. She didn’t even try to find an easier way to reach out and say ‘Hey, I’d like to not be stuck here anymore!’ And I really am glad to have my mind and body to myself, to not have to worry at every turn she’d take control away from me.”

“But, if she had just accepted that the mission was over, she’d have never gone deviant,” Hank says. 

“ I know that ! That’s why it’s hard to be angry at her!” Connor sighs, rubbing his face in his hands. When he speaks again, it’s quieter. “I can understand her reasons. And I know what it’s like to have your worldview change so sharply, and how it makes every action you ever did seem so terrible. But despite everything I did, I was given the chance to try to become better. So maybe she should have that chance too. But I don’t know if she will. Or if she’ll let herself have the chance. I wouldn’t want to see her again, but… I want her to have a second chance too.”

“Well, that’s very big of you. Far fucking bigger than me,” Hank chuckles. “But it sounds like you told her the chance was there for her to take. And she didn’t. And that’s what ultimately made you and her different in the end, for all your similarities. You saw a chance to start over and went for it, and she didn’t. You can’t make choices for people, no matter how much you want to.”

Connor hums. He didn’t explain why Kamski truly needed to do this at CyberLife Tower, just that he put her onto a drive. His emotions over Amanda were now complicated enough, he didn’t need to add the ones about Kamski to the pile today. He was about free of him anyway.

He decides to change the subject. “Have you told Markus? It would be good for him and the others to know we were successful here.”

“I was waiting to talk to you first, but if you’re ready,” Hank pulls out his cellphone, finds where Markus put his number, and dials, making sure to hit the speakerphone button. It’s a few rings before he picks up. 

“Markus here, give me a second,” He says quickly, and they can hear the sounds of others in the background. Then there’s footsteps, shuffling furniture, and the sound of a door before a sigh. “Is this Hank Anderson?”

“Yes, and I have Connor here too, on speaker.” Connor calls out a greeting.

“Connor! It’s good to hear from you!" He sounds so genuinely relieved and excited, and Connor holds onto the warmth that follows. "I take it everything went well?”

“Kamski got her out, it’s all finally over,” Connor replies, and he can hear Markus sigh in relief. “I have to stay overnight just to make sure all the repairs to my system are stable, but I should be good to go by tomorrow.”

“Connor, that’s fantastic! Everyone here will be so glad to hear this," Markus says, and Connor surprises himself by believing him.

“You’re still in meetings?”

“Yeah, it’s been a long day. We’re trying to make up a lot of ground because there’s a press docket tomorrow for President Warren, so we’re losing some time. Hilarious really, after what she pulled on you today, but not much we can do about it now.”

“Hey, you have my permission to take full advantage of this working out. Use it as proof that our demands aren’t unrealistic or overzealous, and that working with us leads to good results. Please use it to our advantage.”

Markus laughs. “I’ll probably have to take you up on that offer. The bright side of this press docket is that we’ll be at Hart Plaza tomorrow morning if you want to swing by. Everyone there has been pulling for you, and they’ll be happy to see you back to normal.”

“‘Normal’,” Connor lets out a breathless laugh. “I’m not even sure what my ‘normal’ is.”

“Well, you’ve got all the time in the world to find out. Anyway, I need to get back in there, but thanks for calling.”

“You’re welcome, but don’t let us keep you too long. And I’ll see you tomorrow morning then.”

They say their goodbyes and Hank hangs up the phone. He then nudges Connor on the shoulder. “Look at you, making friends!” Connor just responds with an eye roll, but also can’t help but chuckle. 

He checks his internal clock and winces at the time. “Like I said, I need to stay overnight. And I know you hate me saying this, but-”

“‘Don’t feel like you have to stay’,” Hank interrupts in a mocking tone. “But you know-”

“‘I’m staying! End of fucking story’,” Connor shoots back, mimicking his voice with a sideways grin. Hank blinks in shock before laughing, and Connor joins. 

“Seriously, Connor, I’m not leaving. The vending machines in here still work, and Kamski promised to pay me back for what I spend on them. And I’ll drag that bench in here to sleep on. I know you’re new to this ‘family’ thing, but that’s what they do, they stick together. So I’m sticking with ya, got it?”

Family. The word echoes in his head. His mouth drops open slightly as he processes what it means, what Hank saying it means. And he’s still looking at Connor with an eyebrow raised, expecting a response. Connor feels himself break into the largest smile he’s ever given.

“Family. Got it.”

Chapter Text

Branches sway in the breeze, many still bare from the long Michigan winter, though a few are showing the first green buds of spring. The air in late March still carries a bite, but not as intense as it used to be. The sun peaks out more often than not, and only remnants of snow remain in old plow piles. Spring is on the horizon, and Connor is excited to truly experience it for the first time. 

Progress on android rights continues, though slowly. Executive orders provided additional temporary protection, and a few bills have moved through Congress. The biggest repealed the American Androids Act and replaced it with a law recognizing all androids as sentient beings with the same general rights as humans, along with some smaller ones that allow for right to property and fair compensation for work. The laws still have loopholes, however, and legal challenges block some aspects of some of the laws from going into full effect. As typical for the United States, it’s a patchwork depending on what exact state you’re in for specific rights. Michigan leads the way, thanks to it having the largest android population, and is often used as a testing ground for various laws other states are debating. It does put a pressure on all of them to do things right to assure androids in other parts of the country are able to gain the same freedoms. Markus travels often these days, speaking at various legislative chambers and in DC to keep the fight going. 

They had recently gotten a major victory: The dissolution of CyberLife as a corporation had occurred last week, with all of their assets and property handed over to the androids, under their collective “New Jericho”, to use as they saw fit. Mayor Sherman’s order to have the city investigate CyberLife based on “anonymous sources” had sped up the process considerably. The access to parts, Thirium, production lines, and space was certainly welcome, even if internal debates on what to do with a space that historically caused androids so much pain was ongoing. 

The city investigation had also dug up another revelation: Connor and Markus were the only surviving RK models. When it became obvious that the androids were going to win, CyberLife destroyed nearly everything that remained from the RK project, from already built androids to their plans for future models. The two of them were, thankfully, told this privately ahead of the public announcement of the investigation’s findings. He was still processing the news, and the new feeling of regret it gave him.

Connor was processing a lot lately, if he was honest with himself. There was how he felt about the more behind-the-scenes role he decided to take as part of New Jericho, focusing more on legal analysis and speech writing. He found it better to stay away from the spotlight, but he still feels bad about it at times, having played a major role on the night of the demonstration. But his therapist told him that he was ‘setting healthy boundaries’, and he’s slowly starting to believe that. Hank had encouraged him to see one after he finally saw one himself, saying they “really do help with all the brain bullshit”, and fortunately the Android Community Center New Jericho established had some android ones on staff. It took some time getting used to it, but he saw the difference it made for Hank and figured it couldn’t hurt. 

It was especially helpful for the other thing to process: Kamski’s random phone calls. He suddenly started calling Connor in January, leaving voicemail messages about his progress on Amanda. He’s gotten her uploaded onto an isolated computer, but she still won’t speak with him. He initially tried to break through her firewall, but in a February message he stated he decided to give her space and let her talk when she’s ready. Connor never picks up, but Kamski doesn’t seem to mind as he keeps doing it. Connor doesn’t really want him to stop either.

Still, he and his therapist have a standing emergency session on the schedule for whenever a new message comes in. After the panic the first one sent him into, he can’t listen to them alone anymore.

He spends quite some time at New Jericho, not just for therapy, but to be around other androids and get more comfortable with them. It took him some time to get comfortable, and he finds that speaking one-on-one is still hard. Too much like interrogating, too much like chasing leads. Group activities are easier, and he’s starting to become friends with a few others. 

He’s also starting to walk dogs for the animal shelter, enjoying the ability to be around dogs more often, explore the city, and help improve human-android relations along the way. Because he’s much stronger and sturdier than the human volunteers, he often gets the biggest dogs and the ones who have a tendency to pull, but he doesn’t mind. Connor finds that they enjoy actually having someone who can keep their pace and allows them to return sufficiently tired. And his way with big dogs has started to spread; he now walks a few for hire, generally elderly people who can’t keep up, people on vacation, or those who are injured. He gets to help people and dogs, which thrills him daily. 

Right now though, he’s alone, sitting outdoors on a bench. He can hear the sounds of Detroit behind him, cars moving, people talking, the buzz of a city in the air. 

Hank is at their old precinct, but not as a detective anymore. He now works for an android rights group as an educator on law enforcement and the legal system. He speaks both to androids to help them understand their rights in the legal system and how to manage police in their daily lives and to cops on how to work with androids and treat them fairly. It means he reads a lot, constantly keeping himself up to date on the latest bills, laws, and court decisions, and travels occasionally, but he’s got a two hour limit on in-person consultations. He’ll video chat for places further out, which was a hilarious string of cursing when Connor had to help him set that up for the first time. 

They spend time together too, helped by the fact that Connor’s legal address is now Hank’s house. On the nights he needs to sleep, he uses the couch. He walks Sumo with his paid clients who don’t mind there being other dogs. They watch Gears games, go over developments on android’s rights in other states and cities, and just be their little family together. Hank, at times, has expressed concern for the fact that Connor doesn’t really have his own room, but he doesn’t mind. He doesn’t have much, just taking over one bureau that was already in there and mostly empty, and the couch suits his needs. 

Besides, the house’s second bedroom was already claimed. 

On that note, Connor decides to take care of the reason he’s out today at all. Only one client booked him today, there weren’t many larger dogs to walk at the shelter, and the others were in DC, so he was left with some free time. And when he finds he has time and the weather is at least decent, he makes his way out to this cemetery. He gets up from the bench where he prefers to sit and gather his thoughts, before making his way up a path. At this point, he’s memorized the path to this particular headstone. 

Cole Anderson

September 23, 2029 - October 11, 2035

He takes a moment to brush away some stray debris and push some dirt off the headstone. When he first came here a few months ago, he ended up coming back with some cleaning supplies and a small broom. He knows Hank doesn’t come out here, and he doesn’t blame him. Hank doesn’t even know about the trips he takes. But he has a feeling that the day Hank is ready to is coming sooner than even he probably expects, and Connor wants it to be nice for him. And for Cole, too. 

Connor kneels down in front of the headstone. “Hi there, Cole. Your dad’s out at the old station today. I almost swung by for old times sake, but decided that may not be the best idea. Wonder if Gavin’s still there; I’m sure I’ll hear all about it if he is. Though I probably shouldn’t repeat those quotes for you. And then he’s out to a few suburbs to talk to those departments. Grosse Pointe, Novi, Royal Oak, Warren, maybe a few others. But then we’re going to Sleeping Bear Dunes to try this camping thing out. We decided we should make sure we can actually handle it before doing a major road trip. It’ll still be the furthest I’ve ever been. I’ll tell you about it next time I come by. Hopefully it’ll be nothing but good news.”

He glances at the headstone one last time. Connor no longer fears that Hank will see him as supplanting Cole, but he never wants to forget who came first. And maybe talking to the dead didn’t actually do anything, but it helps ease some anxious part of him that never went away. 

Some days are hard. Hank will seem to finally get sober, only for Connor to return to a new bottle of whiskey in the cabinet. A dog will pull in a direction he doesn’t expect, and he fears he’s not controlling his own arm. They both walk down the street and sometimes see ghosts, little boys or women with flowing scarves. The news will report on a bill getting defeated in some city or state and they’re both angry and yelling at the TV. 

But the better days are starting to outnumber them. Watching one dog he’s walked for months finally get adopted. Getting through a conversation with another android and not feeling afraid at the end. Hank getting an email stating his lessons helped an android in a tough situation. The excitement of pouring over maps and park guides, planning to see new sights. 

Connor smiles as he stands up, turning into the setting sun. Hank had mentioned he’ll swing by Chicken Feed once he was done at the precinct to grab dinner. Connor decides he’ll meet him there.