Chapter Text
Connor stood in front of the snack foods section in the grocery store, heavily debating what to grab. He’d had the thought that Hank would probably appreciate if he picked up something less healthy for him to have on hand, except he had no idea what exactly Hank liked, and he had no way to find the ideal balance between ‘good enough to make Hank happy’ and ‘probably not likely to kill him immediately.’
Eventually, he made the executive decision to just skip it, and maybe come back once he’d determined Hank’s tastes. For now, he’d just have to focus on the necessities.
That would probably be best, anyway, considering his access to CyberLife account funding was cut off and all he had was the limited cash supply he’d kept on him in case of emergency. It was a good amount, considering he’d pocketed it with the possibility of needing to bribe a human in mind, but it wouldn’t last long if Connor wasn’t careful with it. He was better off getting what Hank needed, and then leaving Hank to buy the things he wanted.
He did pick up dog treats for Sumo, though, because he still felt bad for kicking the dog out of his bed. Which, granted, when Hank had insisted he go into stasis at night to recover properly, he hadn’t known the dog usually slept in the spot he’d claimed. Luckily, he hadn’t needed to go back into stasis since the first few nights, so Sumo had likely already forgotten his time spent sleeping on the couch in protest.
The grocery store was slightly understaffed, with only human employees present - likely every person they could manage to call in. The androids that worked in the town would be absent for a while, if their situation was anything like Connor’s, and they were struggling with the transition between enforced involuntary labor and fairly compensated work.
The humans, both working and shopping, shuffled away from him slightly as he walked by, and he could feel wary gazes following him the entire time he was in the store. Luckily, the self-checkout machines were still operational, including the direct interface pad for androids, so Connor didn’t have to bother any of the cashiers or disturb other shoppers.
The walk back to Hank’s house - his house as well, he supposed, at least for the time being - went very much the same way, with him carefully not reaction to the mixture of responses to his presence by humans.
Many people would not support the freedom of androids, Connor was certain. It was simply not feasible that everyone would agree it was for the best. Those who had invested in higher-tier models would likely want some compensation for their lost property. The job market would be fiercely competitive, and discrimination in hiring was highly probable. The end of segregation would result in clashes, there would be chaos, and some people would probably get hurt.
Connor was surprised to find how sad that thought was to him. He couldn’t regret helping the revolution succeed, but he would feel a personal guilt every time something negative resulted of the change.
He had told Hank that he needed to solve the case of the deviants, regardless of what was right or wrong, to avoid that chaos, and he’d failed. Of course, looking back, he could see he’d been afraid. Terrified, actually, dreading the thought of what Amanda would do to him if he reported a definitive failure.
Androids did not feel pain. He’d been told this more times than even his perfect memory could track, and yet, he was still certain that whatever CyberLife did to him would have been extremely unpleasant.
The point was not to determine the validity of his reasoning, though. It was that however it all turned out, however confident he was he’d done the right thing, he had still played a direct role in creating the tensions that settled over the United States at the moment, and he would have to face the consequences with the knowledge they were, at least in part, his fault.
Connor had never really seen the logic in bad posture, the energy saved from relaxing your shoulders negligible when compared to the damage to your spine, but the thought made him want to curl his shoulders forward and walk facing the ground. Some way to become less obvious, to hide his LED and his stiff demeanor.
And that brought him to another issue: should he follow Markus’ example and make himself look human?
While human clothing was just sensible, considering how ridiculous it was to still be wearing a CyberLife uniform, the thought of removing his LED made him...uneasy.
He thought of all the deviants he’d seen deal with stress, their flashing red light alerting him that he needed to help them calm down before they self destructed. He thought of how convenient it was to have a signal when someone was thinking about something or bothered by it.
And then, he thought about Hank.
Hank had disliked androids at first. If he still did, the best thing to do would be to remove the reminder that he was one.
Except Hank was perfectly fine with androids, now, and… Connor had seen him, many times, flick his eyes up to Connor’s temple to check his status. To make sure he wasn’t lying when he said he was fine, to make sure he wasn’t thinking too much about something Hank had said offhand, or just to get a feel for what Connor’s mind was up to. Hank used the LED as a cue to know how to approach Connor.
With that in mind, he decided he wanted to keep it. It made more sense to have it than to not, and as long as he changed clothes most people wouldn’t even notice him enough to catch the light on his temple.
After he dropped off the groceries, he might set out again to get clothes. He wasn’t really sure what he would even wear. A more human-style version of the same thing, likely, but that would be best reserved for when he had an income. His clothes would likely not be replaced cheaply. Maybe he’d explore new options, then.
He briefly considered waiting for Hank to go with him, but then remembered the man tended to exclusively wear slight variations of the same loud outfit, and dismissed it. Besides, he couldn’t guarantee he would get genuine advice and not just jokes.
The last thing he needed was to pick up something Hank suggested only to find out a week later he’d been kidding. He was getting better at telling the difference between Hank being genuine and Hank making fun of him, but sometimes it was still confusing.
Usually when it had to do with his opinions. He still wasn’t entirely sure if his voice or face was actually odd, or if Hank had been joking. He liked to think it was the latter, given no one else seemed terribly unsettled by him, but sometimes someone would look at him for a beat too long and he would wonder if he’d misjudged CyberLife’s facial design algorithms.
He should probably figure that out, soon. Maybe he could find data online, later.
At Hank’s house, Connor was relieved to discover that Hank’s personal laptop had a small, one-finger interface port for androids. There was dust along the inside, the laptop old and the port entirely unused, but that was easy to wipe out for him to connect. He’d need to check the rest of the computer later, to be safe, because dust in electronic parts could cause serious trouble.
He faltered for a moment as the internet browser pulled up, wondering what exactly he should look for first.
He had no idea what he was meant to do with himself until he took the police detective examination, so maybe he should start with that. Except he wasn’t really sure how to word ‘how to take care of jaded alcoholic police lieutenant when unemployed and not actually human’ to get a result out of a standard search engine.
Hank had joked about him being a ‘housewife,’ defaulting to domestic tasks, and so Connor chased that lead, searching for a guide to the standard duties performed by domestic android models.
He managed to find a full databank on it, designed for upgrading other models or restoring the functions of reset ones. Hank’s internet connection was not very good, and his laptop was - as stated - very old, so the download took a bit longer than he would have liked, but soon he had guides to basic household maintenance in his head.
With that to help, he scanned around the house quickly from his place at the kitchen table, noting all the things he could complete before Hank arrived home.
Once he had a task list in mind, he turned back to the computer.
The domesticity file had included a few important notes, such as how to adapt to individual preferences. He recalled what had been in Hank’s sparse pantry before his initial grocery trip, and tried to piece together common ingredients and flavorings to determine what sort of things Hank liked.
Unfortunately, the only common thread seemed to be the level of required effort. Pre-prepared or ‘instant’ meals, single-serve snacks, and other no-prep items had made up the majority of his kitchen’s contents.
He recalled some of the contents of some of the take-out containers, as well as the meals the microwave dishes were meant to emulate, and decided he’d just start with properly prepared versions of those.
Mentally, he started a to-do list, pinning it to the upper corner of his vision.
BUY GROCERIES (completed)
CLEAN HOUSE (see subtask menu)
BUY BASIC CLOTHES
PREPARE DINNER
Four tasks wasn’t much - even if the cleaning one was technically several tasks - but it would keep him busy for the day, at least.
He didn’t want to think about what he’d occupy himself with in the days to come. Hank’s house had plenty of work to be done, but it wouldn’t take him very long, and his next few days would likely involve a lot of sitting around and waiting.
A soft whine had him glancing to the corner of the room, watching as Sumo padded forward to rest his large head on Connor’s knee. The android reached down to scratch him behind the ear, and added WALK SUMO to his tasklist.
At least he wouldn’t be alone.
“Going home, Lieutenant?” Davis asked.
Hank gave him a suspicious, narrow-eyed glance. “What’s it to ya?”
“Just checking, damn,” Davis said, raising his hands placatingly. “I wonder what your bot has been up to while you’ve been here.”
“He’s not a domestic model,” Tovar added. Hank wasn’t entirely certain why everyone was focused on him now, joining in on a conversation on shit that was none of their business, but it was too late to stop it now. “He might have burnt your house down.”
“I left my dog in charge,” Hank replied dryly. “I’m sure they’ll be fine.”
He didn’t give anyone else a chance to comment, heading quickly out of the office, pulling out his cellphone along the way to dial his home phone number.
Connor picked up on the second ring. “Lieutenant Anderson is not at home,” he said, in lieu of a greeting. “Can I take a message?”
“Most people just say ‘hello,’” Hank told him.
“Oh,” Connor’s voice lost a bit of its robotic quality, turning more toward the friendly tone he usually took with Hank. He’d never really noticed the difference, before, but the change was actually significant. “Lieutenant. Is there something you needed?”
“I’m off work,” he said. “So if you…”
Hank froze in mid-step, staring out at the parking lot.
Where his car was still sitting.
“Connor,” he asked, voice low and every sound enunciated clearly. “Did you fucking walk home?”
“...Yes?” Connor sounded genuinely confused. “You need your car with you to drive home.”
“That’s why I called you,” Hank said, exasperated. “So that you could drive back. Because I’d assumed you’d taken the car, instead of walking five miles.”
“It is 4.68 miles,” Connor corrected. “And it was no trouble.”
“Just...drive the car, Connor,” Hank told him. “Walking that far is stupid, android or not.”
There was a beat of silence. “Noted,” Connor finally replied. “Are you on your way home, now?”
Hearing Connor say home threw Hank off for a second. It was weird to think that his house held someone else now, someone besides Sumo that would be waiting for him to get back.
It was super weird to think about, but also...kind of nice.
“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, I’m on my way. See you in a few minutes.”
He hung up, and stood on the sidewalk for a moment, just processing how dramatically his life had changed in such a short time.
He didn’t have any way to be certain, but he was pretty optimistic about the future, for once. Whatever changes Connor brought with him, Hank thought he’d probably like them.
Especially if he could convince Connor to lighten up a little. God knows the android needed it.