Chapter Text
Day 2.
October 17, 2036
1:37 PM
“Just because you look grumpy doesn’t mean you are!” The scribble was messy, boldly written with black sharpie against pink paper.
Hank seized the sticky note from the mirror, angrily ripping it in half. He left the two halves on the bathroom counter, stalking away from the patronizing notes he had written for himself. It was one of the dumb things Jeffrey had tried to get him to do towards the beginning of their sessions. Write positive things, keep up good vibes, blah blah, whatever. They didn’t work. Actually, they just made him more angry.
It was time to go to work. Time to face the music. He snagged his jacket from the kitchen, carefully stepping around a cheerfully eating Sumo. Sumo was always fed as soon as Hank woke up, which was usually sometime in the afternoon. The lieutenant glanced at his door, noticing the top lock still unlocked. His face twisted into a grimace. Knowing his luck, the android was still out there, loitering on his porch.
He opened the door, bracing himself.
Connor was missing. No, not missing, he was gone. As he should be. There was nobody on the porch. Hank heaved a sigh of relief, crossing his yard to his car. With a click, the door opened, and Hank swung himself inside. He sat back in the leather seat, giving his yard one more lookover. No kid android.
Before he could turn the key to start the engine, a familiar voice right behind him and right in his ear spoke. “Good morning, Lieutenant. You are two hours late to work.”
Hank emitted a very manly scream, spinning around, fist flying. Connor ducked, knuckles completely missing the boy. In his defense, it had been more of a surprised flail.
“Connor! What the fuck are you doing in my car?”
The boy was still dressed in Hank’s oversized clothes. He tilted his head slightly. Hank saw a damp spot in his back seats. “My biocomponents were in danger because of the weather and temperature, so I took refuge in your car. You really shouldn’t leave your car unlocked, somebody could steal it.” Connor’s voice was thick, almost scratchy sounding. His face was pale with a faint flush of blue.
Hank couldn’t believe he was currently being lectured by a nine year old. “You snuck into my car and slept?”
“Yes.”
Hank didn’t know what he was going to do. He settled for the obvious. “Get out!”
Connor frowned disapprovingly. A shine of hurt seemed to shine on his face. “You’re always telling me to go away. This isn’t going to solve the issue, Lieutenant. We need to work together.” It was practically a pout, and it would’ve been cute if Hank wasn’t still reeling from having an android sneak into his car.
“Now you sound like Jeffrey. I said, get out!”
Connor exited the car, nearly tripping over the long pants leg on the way. Before he shut the door, he leaned back in. “Lieutenant, I think you should know that I am enrolled in the local elementary school. The office will provide all of my school supplies, but I figured that you should be aware of my schedule.”
The man glanced at the kid. “They let androids into school?”
“Yes. Unlike most androids, the YK series does not have access to CyberLife databases. We are given base programming and then learn based on experiences or lessons.”
It made sense, in a sick way. “Huh. Well, at least you’ll be out of my hair.”
Connor made to close the door, before pausing. “Lieutenant, as my parental unit, could you turn off my hunger module? I have not consumed a meal in the past twenty-four hours, and I estimate a probability of 7% that you will feed me.”
There was a long beat of silence as Hank took in the request. His hunger could just be turned off. The idea was incredible and also succeeded in creeping the man out. “Turn it off?”
“So you haven’t received the manual yet? Mr. Fowler most likely has it. You should ask for it at your earliest convenience.”
The boy seemed to get the impression that Hank would not follow through with his request. “Have a good day at work, Lieutenant.” The door shut with a click.
Hank shook himself out of his stunned stupor, pulling out of the driveway and onto the street. The last thing he saw before driving away was Connor on the driveway, looking like a statue with a pinched expression on his face.
Earlier.
Day 2.
October 17, 2036
1:27 AM
It was cold. Connor was cold, and that was a problem. It wasn’t the temperature that was a problem, but rather the rain. He stood on the porch, trying to scowl at the door. He had tried to outgrow petty behavior, but the anger had boiled down to a residual dislike. Connor was tired, his legs were stiff, and he was still dressed in old clothes that faintly smelled like booze and sweat. Albeit, it wasn’t too horrible, and the rain water was drowning out most scents.
Connor flinched as the porch light flickered out. Hank must have turned off the light. Now that was just plain rude.
He rubbed his hands together, trying to summon some warmth back into his systems. Unlike his predecessors, body heat was a boasted function of his model, but that meant that internal temperature had to be maintained.
The last time Connor had been this cold, he had been in time out mode. Oh, he really hated that module—
A bright red error lit up in his vision, startling him out of his memory banks. His systems cheerfully warned him that his core temperature was beginning to reach the danger zone for his biocomponents.
Connor pushed the doorbell. He listened to the rattling buzz, counting to ten in his head. After no reply, he hit it again. Connor had a bad feeling that he had been trapped outside in the rainstorm.
“Lieutenant?! Are you in there?” He did his best to shout over the roaring wind. There was no response.
Connor exited the porch, shivering in his oversized clothes as he trudged over around the house. The boy was too short to see through the side window clearly, even when he stood on his tiptoes. He looked around for anything to elevate his position.
A small slick log would do the trick. Connor grabbed the object, dragging it over. He stepped up on it carefully, now able to see through the glass.
Lieutenant Hank Anderson was passed out on the floor with a bottle on the table. The kitchen chair was tipped over, obviously having been knocked down by Hank tilting out of the offending piece of furniture.
Connor stifled a fierce pang of disappointment. Whether the simulated feeling was at the lieutenant’s bad habits or at the fact that Connor might freeze to death outside, it was uncertain.
It was time for a new plan. Despite Connor’s dependence on care and other adults, he did have a pretty good sense of self-preservation. The boy made to step off the log, but he slipped. Connor fell off the log, nearly planting his face into a muddy puddle in the messy lawn. He winced as he felt his knee scrape something hard, turning to look at it.
The skin had torn, leaving a thin trail of blue blood. Unlike most other androids, the YK models were specifically designed to expose as little white skin as possible. Even though it was an android’s natural appearance, it could be a bit jarring for parents who were trying to pretend that the YK was an actual child.
He looked around the yard. The rain slowed, individual droplets ceasing to fall. They moved ever so slowly through the air as his processors went into overdrive.
His mission, first and foremost, was to help Lieutenant Anderson in whatever way he needed. In order to do that, Connor needed to find shelter. He considered going to a neighbor’s house and asking to stay the night, but considering the area, it was unlikely that anybody would agree. It was also very late, so it would be very rude to intrude.
With that option eliminated from his mind palace, the boy continued his scan. The yard was small and very exposed, offering little. He walked over to the car, scanning it. It was unlocked. He opened the backdoor, climbing inside.
Shutting the door, Connor considered his options. He needed to somehow get the lieutenant to warm up to him. Despite having premade plans in his head, none of them would apply until he could get the man to give him a chance.
Thunder boomed, and Connor startled. He wrapped his arms around his knees, trying to shrink into the corner of the seat. He hoped that Hank wouldn’t get mad at him for getting the seats wet. It was a very old car, a collector’s dream at this point.
Connor closed his eyes, trying to drown out the outside world with his inner thoughts. His hands went into his pocket, forgetting that these weren’t his pants. His eyes flew back open in panic. His calibration coin was missing.
An intense panic washed over him, and he scrambled to find a proper substitute. With an audible sigh, the boy found a quarter on the floor of the car. It was lucky that the lieutenant had such a messy car and didn’t bother cleaning it.
Connor instantly began to play with it, letting his mind relax. Stress flowed out of his systems like a plug had been pulled, and he settled into an idle-like mode of existence.
The boy continued to replay the memory of his conversation with the lieutenant in his head. He tried to tilt the angles, tried to think about what other things he could’ve said. The android certainly hadn’t taken the best approach. He had seen that the man had been distressed and had decided to return insult for insult. Connor had just been so incensed when the man had taken Sumo away, and for no reason at that!
He could pick the lock, get back into the house. That wouldn’t do anything. Connor knew that his appearance had been a shock. He just needed to be patient, let the man become acclimated to his presence.
He didn’t count the minutes, didn’t keep track of time. When Connor had decided on an appropriate plan, he opened his eyes. It was lighter now, the rain had turned into a faint drizzle.
Connor peered out the window, rolling the dirty quarter across his knuckles. Over the mountains of his knuckles it climbed, across the chasm between his hands it flew. The quiet sound of skin against metal soothed his ears. His hands were occupied, and he could practically hear the whirring of his systems calibrating.
His left leg was stiff from the cold and rain, the small injury stinging, but that was something that could only be fixed by care and attention, two things that he didn’t have. Two things that Connor had resigned himself to not having. The inside of Lieutenant Anderson’s car wasn’t the most comfortable place Connor had ever stayed, but it also wasn’t the worst.
He could sleep. His sleeping module was still on at full force, causing his head to feel heavy and his eyes to burn at the effort of keeping them awake. He hadn’t sunken into a full sleep, half out of uncomfortability, half out of worry that the lieutenant may wake up and come into the car. He knew that the latter was very unlikely, but he wouldn’t take the chance.
Connor would be sure to mention these issues next time he saw his parental unit.
He couldn’t sleep. He wouldn’t. He wouldn’t sleep until he had set the lieutenant right.
His vision was darkening. The cool temperature had sunk into his metal bones, but at least he wasn’t actively wet.
Connor was interrupted from his musings with the sound of the driver’s seat car door opening. He cursed himself for not noticing the lieutenant’s arrival, but he was very prepared.
Day 2.
October 17, 2036
2:37 PM
“Damn, Hank. Wouldn’t want to be you.”
“Really feeling the support, Chris.”
“Hey man, I’m just saying. Maybe it can be good for you?”
Hank groaned, fighting the urge to slam his head onto the desk. He settled for slamming his paperwork stack into the recycling bin next to his work station. Policework wasn’t the same, especially not with everybody treating him like glass.
“You do know you have to do that eventually, right?” Chris was leaning against his desk, having already mostly finished his work for the day. Chris Miller was a good officer, unlike him.
Hank glared up at the other man. “If I can’t see it, it can’t see me.”
The other police officer sighed, pulling up a rolling office chair. “Look, man, I’ve been covering for you as long as I can remember, but everybody is on edge. You know the Kamski case just got re-opened, the media is practically slavering to get their hands on details. We need every man to pull their weight, and that includes you.”
“Is your sole job to guilt trip me? It’s not working.”
“I’m serious, man. They could fire you, depressing backstory and all. It’s time to man up and stop feeling so sorry for yourself.”
Hank slammed his fist on the desk. “Look, I’m trying! Can’t you see me trying here?”
“No. I really can’t.” Chris sounded genuinely apologetic. That was the problem with him, he was always so genuine. He really did just want the best for Hank, and it was driving the other man insane.
He turned, glaring at his screen. His email inbox was full, most of them ads or demands for signatures on paperwork. “Fine. Did you send me the report?”
“It’s still in process of being written. Gavin’s the one who saw the android do it, so who knows how long it’s going to take?”
Hank was really going to punch something now. “Seriously? An android goes crazy and kills its owner, and Gavin’s the one with the report?”
Chris frowned. “Well, he was the one who was closest. He caught the end of the murder and did kill the android.”
“I thought Kamski said that he would take care of this problem. Androids deviating from their purposes? Killing their owners? They creep me out, count me out.”
The younger man sighed. “That’s not how work works, Hank.”
The lieutenant was so close to walking out and just skipping his job, but he knew there was truth in what Chris said. He was already walking a fine line, no need to add the adjective “unemployed” to the list that constituted his excuse of a life. “Fine then, how does work work?” Hank asked sarcastically.
Chris stands, sliding the chair back to where he found it. “You know, maybe if you read the files in your email, you would know.”
“Somebody’s got their sassy pants on today,” Hank grumbled, glaring at his full inbox. The shining red four digit number was not encouraging. There wasn’t any better time to start though, and he resigned himself to another boring day of work.
Chris walked towards the breakroom. Hank ignored the twinge of jealousy he felt towards the hard-working man, and turned to his screen.
As he did the mundane daily work as managing email and paperwork, he found his mind wandering. He thought back to Connor, the boy intruding on his thoughts. The man grimaced, remembering the boy’s sorry visage in the car. Hank didn’t know how long he had made the kid stand out in the rain before the kid had gotten the bright idea to hide out in the car.
The man paused as he finally found the report.
Because the case had been reopened, the old files were sent out along with any new information. Hank found himself down memory lane, refreshing his memory. A while back, a household android had attacked its owner and killed the family’s child trying to get away. The machine had been shot down in a SWAT standoff outside of town in an abandoned house. Another machine had gone rouge not long after, this time a receptionist android. It had drawn a gun on an armed robber, killing the criminal. It had ran, but was captured and disassembled.
The unexplained murders had continued for a while. Even if humans were assholes, that didn’t give androids the rights to rise up and overthrow their masters. To kill them. It was a scary thought that the human-looking machines could turn against the actual humans. Hank shuddered at the thought. Eventually, they had managed to get Elijah Kamski, the main engineer behind CyberLife, to come forward and solve the issue.
The genius had managed to calm the public and explain the problem, albeit in a very evasive way. Apparently, the emotional shock in the androids had caused some type of error and thus glitch in their programming. The glitch had been fixed, and the case resolved, or so it had seemed.
The man leaned back in his chair, groaning. It was literally impossible to predict the murders, and Kamski had gone off the grid ages ago. Ever since his early retirement, the man had been unreachable by CyberLife. Nobody knew who ran CyberLife now. Despite the company’s publicity, little was known about the upper echelon. Most people didn’t question the mystery, too thankful for the company’s creation and products to look a gift horse in the mouth. Hank had read some pretty outrageous conspiracy theories, though, and couldn’t help but wonder.
Why now? There was no explanation for why all of a sudden, androids were once again becoming a danger to society. The man could do nothing but wait for the report to enter the system, waiting to see exactly what had transpired when an android had taken a little girl hostage and leapt from a roof.
He wanted to go get a drink.
Day 2.
October 17, 2036
3:02 PM
Connor felt like a garden gnome. He had been standing for the past few hours, intermittently stretching or looking around the yard. The android could practically recreate the yard completely from memory by this point, knowing the lawn like the back of his own hand.
The lieutenant wasn’t due back home for another two hours, and even then, the man would probably hit up a bar. Connor could not predict when he would be home if he decided to get drunk.
He wished for a distraction, and almost as if by divine intervention, a distraction occurred.
It started with a ball bouncing into the road. Connor didn’t outwardly react, letting the toy roll into the street, stopping in the middle of the road. It wasn’t any of his business to interfere with a neighbor’s business. If he ignored them just because of a twinge of jealousy in his heart, then nobody would know the difference. In that brief moment, Connor found himself wishing that he was that little girl playing under a kind guardian’s supervision.
A small girl ran out, wearing a pink jacket and blue jeans. She looked to be about his age. She had been playing in the yard across the street, being supervised by a taller woman. Connor hadn’t been paying attention, but his boredom got the better of him.
The girl ran out into the street, seeking the red ball. The woman had been reading, but now was looking up as the girl ran.
The rumbling screech of a sports car sent Connor scrambling. His mind palace steadied his pulsing mind, successfully encouraging him to think rationally. The driver of the car looked to be a teenager, barely old enough to drive. The driver was way above the speed limit, and heading very quickly to the small girl in the road. The woman had stood up, running down the yard, her mouth forming a name as she screamed. She wouldn’t make it in time.
Connor didn’t think twice.
His mission stated that he had to help save Hank Anderson from his personal issues. There was nothing in his mission parameters that decreed he should run out and save a little girl from traffic, maybe at the cost of his own life. Connor still didn’t hesitate as he ran into the road, tackling the girl.
The two children hit the ground, landing on the side of the street as the car swerved, just barely missing the two, crushing the ball ruthlessly under the tires. Connor heard the fierce wind whistle in his ears just over the sound of his pounding heart. The car sped away, screeching as it went.
Connor looked down at the girl. She was pale, face sweaty and mouth agape in shock. It was like she had yet to comprehend what had just happened, and just how close to death she had come. Connor stood shakily, trying to shake the trembling from his limbs.
The woman arrived, scooping up the girl, holding her to her chest. “Alice! Oh my gosh, are you alright?!”
Alice nodded, still speechless, embracing the woman’s neck. “I’m alright, Kara,” she murmured softly.
Connor registered the names in the back of his head. He was unsure what to do, what the right course of action was. Before he could stress for too much longer, Kara made the decision for him.
The woman gently set Alice down, before going and hugging Connor. “You saved her, you saved her. I can’t believe that just happened!”
Kara was cold. It was strange, Connor thought to himself, letting himself be hugged. A human would have surely felt warmer, but maybe it was just the chill of a near death experience that was messing with his processors. “Yes, that man was going thirty-four miles over the speed limit.”
The woman seemed to stiffen at his words, and pulled away. She looked at Connor fully, taking in his ragged appearance and his words. Connor knew that Kara now had full view of his LED. He wondered what color it was.
“What’s your name? My name is Kara.” Kara bent down so that she was at his level. It was a nice and polite gesture, one that Connor appreciated. Her voice shook as she spoke, but she maintained a kind smile.
“My name is Connor.”
“That’s a nice name. This is my daughter, Alice. Have you eaten lunch yet?” Kara still looked visibly shaken from the experience she had just witnessed. Connor theorized that she was seeking a return to normalcy or perhaps a distraction.
Connor shook his head wordlessly.
“That’s good. Come in. I was just about to make Alice a sandwich, and you would be welcome. Are you new here in the neighborhood?” Kara began to walk up the driveway, holding Alice’s hand. Alice clutched her mother’s leg, staying glued to her side.
Connor did his best to reply to Kara’s questions, unsure about what exactly was happening. He supposed that it was some type of reciprocation for the fact that Connor had just saved Alice’s life. And in any case, it was optimal to be in a good relationship with the neighbors, just in case Connor needed assistance in his mission.
Connor entered the house behind the girls. It was pleasant, rather small. The furniture had obvious signs of wear and tear, but the place was very clean and cared for. He sat politely on the couch, folding his hands into his lap as he sat straight.
Alice sat in a plush chair near him, pulling her knees up to rest her chin on them. A stuffed fox entered her grasp as she grabbed the plushie from the coffee table.
Kara excused herself to the kitchen, exiting the room. The living room was left in silence, and the only sounds that could be heard was Kara’s bustling in the kitchen.
“I like your toy,” Connor offered, trying to break the ice. He truly did want to get to know the life of the girl he had just saved.
Alice nodded, her face hidden behind the brown fox. It wasn’t very realistic. If Connor had owned one, it would have been more life-like. The boy shook his head mentally. Where had that thought come from? Stuffed animals were unimportant to his mission and besides, the lieutenant’s disposition towards him made his probability of having a toy very unlikely.
Understanding that Alice was not seeking conversation at the moment after such a traumatic experience, Connor let the conversation die. He was content to observe the living room.
There were no family pictures. Only basic pictures of scenery decorated the walls. No sign of a male in the household, either.
“You’re an android.”
Connor looked over at the girl. “Correct. I am a YK800 model.”
“I thought they were only up to 700s.” Alice’s voice was small, strongly muffled by the soft obstruction covering her mouth.
“I am a prototype.” Connor felt vaguely proud at his proclamation.
Alice didn’t reply, instead choosing to stare off into space again. Luckily, Kara chose that moment to enter the room, carrying two plates. “I hope you like PB&J, Connor,” Kara said with a smile, setting the plates down on the table near their respective sitting locations.
Connor nodded. “I enjoy the taste.” It was a lie. Connor had never had such a sandwich in his life, but it looked and smelled good. He waited for Alice to take a bite first, but the girl made no move towards the food. Connor reached forward tentatively, beginning to eat the sandwich.
A glass of milk also entered his field of vision. The food was good. Kara was very generous. “Thank you,” he said softly.
“You’re very welcome.” Kara took a seat on the other side of the coffee table, next to Connor. “So, Connor, I haven’t seen you around. Are you new to the neighborhood?”
The boy paused, taking a moment to swallow. “Yes. I have recently become acquainted with Lieutenant Hank Anderson who lives across the street.”
“Hank?” Kara repeated, raising an eyebrow. “I didn’t think he would be the type to get a child android.”
“He’s not.” Connor didn’t elaborate, not wanting to divulge the lieutenant’s personal information, even with kind strangers who lived next to him. It wasn’t Connor’s place.
Understanding that Connor wouldn’t explain, Kara continued to make small talk. “I noticed you standing outside for quite a while. Were you waiting for Hank to return home?”
“Correct.” Connor took a sip of milk before continuing. “Unfortunately, I am locked out of the house.”
Alice made herself part of the conversation. “You can stay here until he comes back. Right, Kara?”
Kara smiled. “Of course. Any friend of Alice’s is welcome here.”
Connor wanted to protest that he had only known the pair for exactly thirteen minutes, and that their first meeting had been a near death experience, but resolved to remain silent. Something inside told him to just be quiet and enjoy the company of the two nice people.
It was a nice change of atmosphere. He actually felt welcomed, for the first time in his short life.