Chapter Text
Had you asked Hank Anderson even a year ago whether he would ever find himself feeling sentimental over a pair of androids, he likely would have scoffed in your face. Probably offered some choice words. Maybe even flipped you off for good measure. Yet that is indeed where he finds himself today.
He thought he’d numbed himself with enough booze that no-one would ever find their way through to him again. And yet Connor wormed his way into his affections with surprising ease. Sure, some of that’s down to CyberLife’s design; he knows Connor was intentionally developed to integrate well with others. But he’s seen more to him recently, seen aspects that go beyond any ‘social relations programme’ shit he supposedly has inbuilt into him. There’s a real person and personality there which goes beyond any careful engineering, and it’s been a privilege seeing him work that out for himself. Hell, the first time Connor lost his temper – not some staged and controlled anger for the purpose of producing a reaction – but full blown, unrestrained fury, Hank wanted nothing more than to hug the boy again. Circumstances hadn’t really allowed for that at the time, given that they were confronting a criminal, but Hank had made sure to congratulate him later (after reminding him that they needed to keep a level head at work). And seeing how Connor has been able to move on and forgive Amanda for her previous actions, well it leaves Hank with little doubt that he’s a good man.
And as for Amanda herself, he supposes it would be fair to say he more than tolerates her these days.
Which is probably why he’s accepting her current behaviour with outwardly little more than a patient, if mildly forced, smile. It’s kinda hard not to feel something though, he argues with himself, when faced with her wide-eyed wonder. Seems it’s enough to warm even his jaded, old heart.
He’s been pleasantly surprised with how quickly she physically adapted to this new body, there were a few teething problems earlier (they’ve already had to pick her up after a rather close encounter with a curb) but, in general, she’s shown an acceptable level of control. Connor’s calibration testing must have paid off. He just hadn’t accounted for how captivated she’d be with everything. Not having all the kit they needed in the house, they’d borrowed the tech support office in the precinct (Alan and Tom were willing to clear off for the afternoon, with only a few questions asked). It had certainly made the task simpler, but it does mean Amanda’s first excursion is right through downtown Detroit – and the city certainly isn’t quiet today. It a sharp contrast from the relative calm and quiet of their evening by the bridge.
“Hey, hey,” Hank says, pulling Amanda’s back as she makes another attempt to wander off, “keep up this level of enthusiasm for everything and soon you’re going to run out of battery.” He can see Connor raising an eyebrows; a clear sign he’s about to begin an overly technical explanation, but cuts him off with a swift “I’m well aware that’s not how it works.”
“I must say, these buildings are fascinating,” Amanda’s not looking where she’s going again, choosing instead to stare round herself. Hank looks about, takes in the graffiti and shuttered store-fronts; the architecture round here is…nothing special. “Heh, If this impresses you, well we’ll really have to get you out more.” Hank turns to Connor, “You pair describe that other space as a garden, right? What all was in it? Anything in particular we need to get ‘Dorothy’ here accustomed to?
“Well, there were some trees, flowerbeds, a lake, a bridge…” Connor begins listing.
“The boat, your chair, and there used to be a graveyard.” Amanda joins in.
“A what now?” Hank asks flatly.
Both Amanda and Connor look uncomfortable.
“I got rid of that pretty early on,” Connor says without meeting his gaze.
Hank dreads to think what they needed a graveyard for, but decides not to press the matter. He’s found it’s better not to question CyberLife’s motivations in these things. The answers are rarely reassuring. He realises something major is missing in what they’re saying, “So what, like no houses or other building? Where did you live then?”
Amanda shrugs, “Such things were not really a concern. The Garden is a digital space; things such as shelter didn’t have to be accounted for.”
“And I suppose neither did a sense of security and belonging then?” He already knows the answer to that question though, given how long it had taken Connor to feel comfortable claiming any space for himself. And all that had been was a spare room in Hank’s house. “Still, sounds like that leaves us with plenty of scope. Bet you’d be fascinated by Belle Isle…” Hank catches himself on, is he really considering suitable daytrips for Amanda? He supposes he is. Ah well, in for an inch, in for a mile these days.
Hank decides to hang back a bit as Amanda and Connor make their way on ahead; he supposes he should give them some time together. He knows they’ve become closer recently. He’s pretty sure he read somewhere about the dangers of allowing the blind to lead the blind, but hey, Connor’s been navigating societal norms a lot better these days. “I’ll be back in a bit, there’s a park round the next block, meet you there in an hour or so, alright?” Connor looks at him with concern. “Ah, nothing to worry about, there’s just something I want to do,” with a wave over his shoulder, Hank turns away.
--
Connor’s concern changes to curiosity; Hank is up to something, he’s sure about it, he’s just not sure quite what. Still, it’s not as if Hank seemed upset or agitated in any way. And Connor doesn’t have to feel guilty for not solving every mystery he comes across anymore.
Amanda has taken his arm again and stepped in closer to his side, she seems slightly less confident now that Hank has left, but her eyes remain darting about the place. Connor hopes she isn’t finding things too overwhelming. Though they share certain experiences in common, this is one occasion where he cannot fully relate. He’s been able to appreciate new dimensions to events since becoming Deviant, but it’s not as if he’s experiencing the world for the first time. For a lot of the more mundane, everyday things, he can’t really remember his first time doing so. When he first became ‘aware’, it was not as if he’d never walked down the street before. He was just seeing and understanding it more clearly. However for Amanda, well this really is her first time doing some of these things.
As they’re walking, Amanda draws his attention to the window display of a florist’s, and there’s something uplifting about seeing her entertained by such seemingly small things. Except, maybe they’re not all that small at all. The fact that Amanda can notice the flowers, that Connor can take time away from being productive to do things he wants to do. The fact that they’re both here, together. Well, it says a lot about how far things have come.
Connor wonders if he should be acting as more of a tour-guide for her. He supposes he could tell her more about the history of the area, but feels there’s little point in that. It’s not as if Amanda couldn’t find that information for herself. Instead he tells her occasional anecdotes, sharing his experiences; how this particular coffee shop is favoured by the majority of officers from the precinct, how he’d caught a purse-snatcher at this corner, how the employees of this store had been some of the first to deface the company mandated sticker on their door to read ‘androids allowed’. She seems content with that.
“We should go shopping sometime,” Connor suggests as they’re passing a clothing store, “You could maybe pick yourself some more clothes?” North had helped him with Amanda’s current outfit, he hadn’t wanted Amanda waking up in CyberLife standard. The Jericho crowd are some of the few people, other than Hank, who know about the full situation with Amanda. Connor had been pleasantly surprised to discover that they were all supportive. North in particular had seemed to relish the prospect “It’s another victory for our people,” she had said, “we’re freeing another person from CyberLife’s control.” He’s grateful for her help, but he hopes Amanda can make her own choices in the future.
“I’d like that,” Amanda says as she pats him on the arm.
They continue peacefully, until slightly further ahead Connor sees two figures; there’s something about their posture which seems threatening. Almost without meaning to he’s scanned their faces and cross-referenced them with the criminal database. There are still certain aspects of himself he can’t switch off; he was, after all, made to be a good detective. A notification pops up; they share several accounts of assault – on both humans and androids – between them. He decides to cross the road to the far side, away from the men’s sneers, and hopes Amanda hasn’t noticed them. He like to let her have at least one day before she has to deal with some of the less savoury realities of living in a world still tentatively working out how to share space. To his relief, the two men pay them no more heed as they go on their way.
“Thank you,” Amanda squeezes his arm again, but she’s looking away across the road. Seems she did notice. “It’s okay,” she reassures him, “I know there are things that are not going to be easy; I may be inexperienced in this world, but I’m not naïve. But, nonetheless, thank you for looking out for me.”
By now they’ve almost reached the park Hank mentioned. It’s small, little more than a splash of green amongst the city streets. But there’s a playground and people milling about. A path runs through the centre, lined with benches, several of which are already occupied. Connor glances at Amanda; she still seems quite taken with everything.
“Hank should be back soon,” Connor gestures to a nearby park bench, “should we wait for him here?” Amanda nods and they sit down together. There’s a rush of familiarity and Connor has a curious feeling that this moment is at all once quite alike, and absolutely nothing like, being in the Garden.
--
Hank returns to find Connor and Amanda sitting together, deep in conversation. Sumo, traitor that he is, takes one look at Connor and begins pulling in earnest on his leash. Hank lets him off almost at the precise moment that the other two notice his return. Both of their faces light up as the huge dog lumbers towards them. Hank smirks, oh yes, this was an excellent idea.