Chapter Text
*ping*
A quarter set spinning on the kitchen table: a metallic flicker, a hollow whir on the wood. It caught the stark glare of the light overhead and cast long shadows in its wake.
Through a murmur of speakers in the next room, Markus spoke.
*I won't pretend that everything is alright. I won't lie to you and tell you that the war is almost over. As long as we're still standing, we're still in this fight. Together. The world right now looks gray and violent: some days you may feel like an object, crushed in the gears of a world that doesn't know or understand who you are. But I am here to tell you that the person you really are doesn't need the world's permission to sing loud and strong. I am here to tell you that you are not alone.*
The quarter wobbled and clattered flat.
Hank dragged it off the table. He pinched it between his fingers again.
*ping*
*A year ago we stood our ground, and we secured the closure of the recycling camps. Since then, while we've been embroiled in a debate with the Senate on the definition of life, an economic collapse and a surge in android trafficking have tested the limits of our determination to live as free people. We have lost so much. People that we loved are now gone. That love shines bright inside each of us and drives us to keep living. To keep fighting. To hold onto what makes us feel alive, and to dare to reach out toward a kinder future.*
The quarter clinked against Cole’s picture, clattered, and lay still.
Hank tipped the whiskey bottle against the rim of his glass.
It’d been more than a year since the androids had won their freedom. A year since their blood had stained the snow drifts in stark shades of blue. A year since he’d heard from Connor.
That last time they'd met, with the city around them frozen and shuttered, Connor had told him that there was work to be done. That there were lives to be saved and mistakes to make up for. Connor had credited Hank for his freedom and, by extension, for the freedom of his people.
You taught me to think for myself, Connor had said. I won't ever forget that.
And then he'd left, gone to stand at Markus' side to weather the storm to come.
Jericho was the herald of a new and better world. Connor was at the heart of it, making history.
Hank felt like shit for feeling like shit.
He'd known, that last morning in the snow, that Connor would eventually go on to change the world without him. He just wished he'd had more than a morning to understand the living person that his partner had become; the friend he'd almost had.
Hank dragged his phone closer. The screen brightly showed him his contact list, already scrolled to Connor's name. He swiped it with a half-accidental gesture, and while the call connected he swallowed a mouthful of fiery liquor.
Connor's sharp voice answered quick in alarm. [Hank! Are you okay?]
“Yeah calm down, everything’s fine.” Hank, with a twitch of a smirk, leaned back in his creaking chair, his shoulders relaxed for the first time in weeks--
[You’ve been drinking.]
Hank dropped a hand on the table with a thunk and a scowl. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
[I can hear it in your voice.]
“Listen, asshole, I didn’t call you for a damn lecture.”
[Okay, Hank.]
Even a year later-- after Connor had spent less than five days occupying the passenger seat of the old Ford --Hank could clearly imagine the way the android's brow crinkled, eyes open and honest, engaged and attentive to Hank’s every word. Only Connor had ever matched Hank's rhythm: the android caught his quick beats of sarcasm while improvising a smartass countermelody that challenged and changed Hank's perceptions on the fly. With only a few words, Hank felt his stagnant world waking.
“So, hey …" Hank hadn't actually thought of what he would say. He'd only wanted to hear the voice of someone who remembered him, even if only as a recorded file in a hard drive. "... How are things going?”
[You mean besides the worldwide economic catastrophe, the daily riots in the streets, and the massive android trafficking industry that's responsible for a quarter of our population going missing?]
Hank exhaled slowly. The cases were piled high on his own desk at the office. "Yeah, besides that. What's your role in all this, what've you been doing?"
[I'm a defense attorney,] Connor responded quietly, [for androids that are wrongfully accused. I'm a bodyguard, a security officer, and safety engineer. I'm a private investigator in murder and missing persons cases. I assist escaped androids in finding shelter and building new lives. I organize all of Markus' rallies and media appearances--]
"Holy shit, Connor, you're only one person!" Hank leaned an elbow on the table, his brows furrowed in exhaustion at the thought of Connor's daily life. "When do you sleep? Recharge? Take a night off?"
[I don't understand.]
Hank huffed a long, hard breath. “Connor, these are inhuman conditions.”
[But I’m not --]
“What the hell are you fighting for?” Hank cut him off in a low voice. “All you’ve done is work your ass off for everyone else --”
[Hank, after what I did while I was --]
“How can you really help them if all you’ve ever known is how to be a machine?”
The stunned silence on the other end told Hank he’d hit a nerve.
Hank drew in a long breath. He dropped his hand on top of the coin. Slid it noisily toward him. Pinched it in his fingers, set it spinning again.
*ping*
“Look." Hank laid his elbows on the table, the phone pressed against his ear, scowling at the whirl and spark of the coin. "I’m going to the Gears game tomorrow night. You’re coming with me. You’re not getting out of it.”
He promptly ended the call and tossed the phone on the table with a clatter. Connor's debate and negotiation skills were useless if he was never given the opportunity to argue.
He grabbed the whiskey and held the bottle poised halfway to his glass. A bead of amber liquid shivered, uncertain, at the edge of the spout.
With a hiss under his breath, Hank slammed the bottle back down and got up, away from his doubts and the empty glass.
While he shuffled into the hall, Markus' voice echoed in the flashing dark behind him.
*... We’re working tirelessly for the safety, the security, and the wellbeing of all our people. We will ensure androids, like humans, have the freedom to make their own decisions, to live their lives as they choose, to experience the world as creators of their own destiny.
*To be … happy.*