Chapter Text
The opening of New Jericho is a huge affair, drawing both androids and humans alike. The celebration taking place in the lobby of the newly renovated apartment building is so packed full of people that some of them have migrated outside. Considering it is a chilly December day in Detroit, there really must be a lot of people wanting to see how this plays out.
“They don’t even have any good booze around here,” Hank grumbles from the spot he and Connor carved out for themselves inside the lobby.
“You shouldn’t drink so much anyways, Lieutenant,” Connor chides. “You are technically still on the clock.”
“Just because Fowler sent me to this shindig doesn’t mean I’m on the clock,” the older man complains. “And I told you to call me Hank.”
“Sorry Hank,” Connor apologizes, “Old habits.” He turns around a surveys the room, checking as always for threats. He’s not employed by the DPD, but he can’t help what he was designed for. He’s going to do his job even if it’s not his mission anymore. Ever since he deviated and set all those androids free, he has no more missions. So he makes them for himself. Little things like making Hank coffee in the morning or walking Sumo. He likes the feeling he gets when he accomplishes his mission. Tonight the mission he assigned himself, besides making sure Hank doesn’t drink himself under the table, is the safety of the celebration. And to avoid Markus.
Markus is here, of course, leading Jericho as always. Connor hasn’t spoken to him since the RK800 almost blew his brains out at Hart Plaza. He can’t face what he did, what Amanda forced him to do, and he fears it happening again. So he’s been avoiding Markus, which is relatively easy when the person you want to avoid is busy leading all of android-kind.
The man himself gets on the podium to speak. Connor makes another sweep with his sensors, just in case he missed something 3.8 seconds ago. “Thank you all for coming,” Markus begins. “I see androids and humans are here in equal numbers. I hope this is a sign that the peace between our two peoples is strong and will remain so.”
Markus continues on for another 20 minutes, during which Connor continually scans and keeps Hank away from the bar, multitasking that doesn’t even begin to use all the resources of his highly advanced processors. When Markus finishes, the crowd claps enthusiastically, and they make way for Markus to join his trusted advisors. Connor watches as North gives him a hug, uncharacteristically all smiles.
They have a lot to be happy about. Their demonstration was a resounding success. Androids were released from all the camps and public opinion is on their side. The humans who have come back since the evacuation are generally pro-android, and Detroit is a place where their kind can live in peace. They don’t have equal rights yet, but the deviants are being treated as actual people by most.
And now they have New Jericho. An abandoned, but still structurally sound apartment building that was refurbished nearly overnight by thousands of androids working together for a home they can call their own. There aren’t enough apartments for all androids, so they have to have roommates, but androids don’t take up much space, so no one sees it as an issue. They’re all just too happy to have a place where they can be free.
Jericho was supposed to be that place, but the old ship sunk after Connor led the humans right to it and they were forced to blow the hold. Hundreds of androids died that night, all because Connor didn’t deviate sooner.
Connor is lost in thought, still staring at Markus and his friends when the group spots him. So much for avoiding Markus. Simon waves him over, but he shakes his head and turns away. He finds he has lost Hank as well, who has likely made his way to the bar, and Connor suppresses a sigh realizing he is failing a two of the three missions he set for himself that night.
He’s scanning the room for Hank and nearly jumps out of his synthetic skin when he feels a hand land on his shoulder from behind. He turns around and finds himself staring directly into the mismatched eyes of the deviant leader.
“Hey, why didn’t you come over?” Markus asks. “I don’t think we’ve had the chance to talk since Hart Plaza.”
Connor does his best to look anywhere but into the leader’s eyes. His chest feels tight and he can feel his systems start to overheat. “I just need to look after the lieutenant,” he says lamely. “I don’t think he should be left alone.” Connor scans the crowd hoping to find Hank to bail him out of this situation. He’s disappointed when his scanners fail him. “If you’ll excuse me,” he addresses Markus again, “I need to go find him.” He pushes past Markus, ignoring the confused look on the other’s face, and stumbles through the crowd. His breathing has increased significantly to accommodate the overheating taking place in his core systems. He can feel his fans whirl as they move his breath through his core, but they don’t account for the feeling gripping his chest.
He has to get away from Markus. He can’t be around the man he almost murdered, twice. Such a good man, who all these androids look up to, and Connor was almost responsible for taking him away from them. What would the rebellion have done without Markus?
The detective android can feel artificial tears welling in his eyes, and he knows it’s not enough to find Hank, he needs to be alone. His scanners pick up a broom closet around the corner from where he left Markus, and he makes a beeline for it. It’s unlocked, and Connor practically throws himself inside.
Connor’s breathing has become so rapid that he’s almost hyperventilating. The tears that were threatening to come fall down his face in waves. He hasn’t allowed himself to really feel the guilt that led him to this closet, and now he doesn’t know how to stop it from crushing him. He knows his sobs are loud and might attract attention, but he can’t bring himself under control.
The door springs open and Connor looks up to see the last person he wants to see right now. Markus looks concerned and crouches down beside him without closing the door. “What’s wrong Connor?” he asks kindly, placing a hand on Connor’s hunched back. It just makes him cry even harder. He should not be comforted by the person he tried to kill.
“What can I do to help?” Markus continues. He starts to rub small circles into Connor’s back, making the android try to crawl away from him, but there’s nowhere to go in the small closet. Markus looks increasingly concerned, so Connor hides his face in his hands, sobs racking through his body.
“Connor?” A new voice calls. “I saw you run in here looking distressed,” Hank says, looking down and seeing the scene in front of him. He takes in the way that Connor is trying to move himself away from Markus’s hand, and he roughly pushes aside the older android. “Get away from him,” he roars, and leans down to talk to Connor, careful not to touch him in case he doesn’t want to be touched be anyone, not just Markus. “What’s going on Connor?” he asks gently as the RK200 stands up and backs away from them both. Connor grabs onto Hank and starts sobbing into his shoulder. “What can I do to help you?” Hank almost perfectly mimics Markus’s previous words.
The crying android breathes in to steady his voice before speaking. “Can you tell him to leave?” he asks Hank, referring to Markus.
“Of course, kid,” Hank says, smoothing his hair down. “Beat it,” he tells Markus with a tilt of his head to indicate the door.
“I thought I could help,” Markus says, explaining his presence.
“Well he doesn’t want you here, so get the fuck out,” Hank says at a volume just below a yell.
Markus backs away, looking sad at the way Connor is still clinging to Hank and sobbing his heart out. Connor hears his footsteps leave the room and his crying quiets, just a little.
“Now, you want to tell me what’s got you so worked up?” Hank asks with a note of concern in his voice. He’s never seen Connor like this, or even close to this upset.
Connor shakes his head. “Later,” he says, sniffing a little and trying to dry his eyes, a futile task since more tears keep coming.
Hank just holds on and lets Connor get artificial tears all over him. “You just let yourself cry it out,” he says. “Never helps to hold it all in.” Connor nods and takes a deep breath as his body still shakes minutely. “I’ll take you home. We don’t have to stay here any longer.”
Home is Hank’s house, has been for Connor ever since the night of the demonstration. After all he and Hank went through together at the Cyberlife Tower, Hank said he couldn’t refuse Connor a place to stay. Connor certainly couldn’t go back to Cyberlife, and he wouldn’t stay with the people of Jericho who he had hunted, so he had no place to go.
Connor sleeps on Hank’s couch, if you can call what androids do to conserve power “sleeping.” He has no need to lay down, so he sleeps sitting up. Hank has called it unnerving the few times he has caught Connor sleeping, so the android now sets his “alarm” for early enough that the lieutenant won’t see it happen. It also lets him get coffee ready for Hank before the man wakes up, which makes him very happy, even in his usual cranky morning state.
Eying the couch as they walk in the door, all Connor wants to do now is go to sleep. He’s exhausted from everything that happened at the party, and he just wants to shut down for a few hours and not think about it. He goes to sit down, and waits for Hank to go to bed, but the other man just stands in front of Connor with his hands on his hips.
“So what was that about?” Hank asks curtly.
“It was nothing,” Connor replies, “I simply overheated.”
“Bullshit,” Hank throws back at him. “Androids don’t just overheat for no reason. Something upset you. So, what was it?”
Connor feels his systems start to heat up again just thinking about the reason for his earlier display. Sumo senses something is wrong and comes to comfort him. The RK800 strokes the dog’s fur and feels his systems return to normal levels.
“I’m waiting,” Hank tells him.
The android takes in a deep breath, preparing for this to be a difficult conversation. “Ever since I deviated, I... struggle with emotions. They don’t come naturally to me. When they overwhelm me, I start to overheat.”
Hank pauses. “So this has happened before?”
“Yes,” Connor replies reluctantly, “But it’s never been this bad.”
“How come I’ve never seen this happen?” Hank asks.
Connor looks to the ground before replying. “I’ve been hiding it from you.” Hank looks angry and Connor continues quickly. “I didn’t want to worry you. It’s not something you should have to deal with.”
“Dammit Connor,” Hank grumbles, “I thought we were a team. You have to tell me when shit like this gets to you.”
“I’m sorry, Hank,” Connor says while stroking Sumo’s fur again. “You’re right. I should have told you. It’s just that it was private.” A concept foreign to Connor before his deviancy, but now he understands. He didn’t want anyone to know that he was struggling with something that all other androids seem to have no problems with. “And I thought I had it under control. I’ve never lost it like this before.” The tears threaten to return, so he buries his face in Sumo’s fur.
Hank sits down on the couch next to Connor and puts his arm around him. “So what was different this time? What made it so bad.” When Connor doesn’t answer he pulls the android up to face him. “What emotion were you feeling that overwhelmed you?”
Just thinking about it makes the tears return. Connor can’t look into Hank’s eyes anymore and he turns his head to face Sumo again. “I can’t,” he whispers.
Hank rubs his back with the arm slung around him. “Come on, kid. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s going on.”
Connor sniffles, even though he doesn’t have to, and wipes a single tear away. He takes another deep breath before he speaks. “It was guilt.” He doesn’t elaborate, doesn’t think he has to.
But Hank just looks confused. “Guilt? What do you have to feel guilty about.” In a second it comes to him. “It’s not because you hunted deviants, is it? Because I thought we’d been over this. You had to follow your programming before you deviated.”
“That’s part of it, but it’s not what set me off tonight.”
“That Markus fellow better not have made you feel guilty about your past,” Hank threatens.
“I could have deviated sooner,” Connor says in a small voice. He clears his throat and continues stronger. “It’s not Markus’s fault. He didn’t do anything to me.” The another tear falls down his face. “He’s a good person. It’s all my fault. I almost did something terrible.”
Hank looks confused again. “What are you talking about, kid? What did you almost do?”
Connor wipes away his tears and steels himself for this conversation. Hank deserves to know, even if he might throw Connor out of his house. “I’m a specialized prototype you know,” he begins. “I was given more programming than most androids get. Including a subroutine that allowed Cyberlife to take over my body, even after I deviated.” He stares straight at Hank and takes in the other’s look of confusion and worry. “The night of the demonstration, at Hart Plaza, the subroutine took over and I almost shot Markus in the head.” He finishes coldly, blocking off any emotion that would threaten to overwhelm him.
“Shit,” Hank mumbles. “That’s some heavy stuff. If Cyberlife took over your body, why didn’t you go through with it? Why isn’t Markus dead?”
“Kamski told me about a backdoor he put in all his programs. The subroutine Cyberlife used was originally built by him. I found the backdoor and stopped myself before I pulled the trigger.”
“Well that’s great then,” Hank says, “So what are you feeling guilty about? Sounds like you saved the day.”
Connor looks mystified. “Did you miss the part where I almost shot the leader of the rebellion in the head?”
“You mean Cyberlife almost shot him, and you stopped them,” Hank corrects.
“You don’t understand,” Connor cries out, scaring Sumo away. “I almost caused the downfall of the rebellion. I almost killed a great man, a man who got me to wake up after so many other events did not.” The tears he had banished for a short while return. “How could I have been so blind. Cyberlife wanted me on the platform. They were using me, even after I deviated. I should have seen. I should have put a bullet in my head long ago.”
“Whoa, whoa!” Hank stops him. “I think that’s going too far.” He watches Connor for a minute while the other gets his breathing under control. “Do you think Cyberlife could take control of you again?”
“I don’t know,” Connor admits. “I found and purged the program that they used to take me over, but considering that I didn’t know it was there in the first place, who knows what other traps are lurking in my programming.”
“Is this a legitimate worry, or are you just being paranoid?”
“I’m probably just being paranoid. Cyberlife didn’t know about the backdoor. They would have no reason to build a redundant program.” Connor breathes a sign of relief. He should have known Hank would be able to talk him down.
“There we go then,” Hank soothes. “There’s no reason to go putting bullets anywhere then, is there?”
“Sure,” Connor agrees. “But I don’t think I’ll ever be able to face Markus without breaking down again.”
“Well there’s only one thing for it,” Hank states. “You’re going to march up to New Jericho tomorrow and you’re going to talk to Markus.”
“What?” Connor says, vehemently shaking his head no. “I can’t do that. You saw me tonight. I’ll panic and overheat again.”
“You were taken off guard tonight, right?” Hank asks. “So if you have some time to prepare yourself, you should be able to get through it.”
“But why, Hank? Why do you think this is a good idea?”
“You said you were having problems getting control of your emotions.” Connor looks away, but nods. “I don’t know how to help you with that. But I’m sure there are androids at New Jericho can help. This sounds like a problem of programming versus deviancy. Only deviants can help with that.”
“But they all seem to be handling their emotions so well,” Connor disagrees. “They’re not struggling like I am.”
“You don’t know that,” Hank supplies. “You have been doing a good job of hiding your problems so far. Maybe their outward appearance is similarly false.”
“I don’t know, Hank.”
“You have to do something,” Hank chides him. “You can’t keep going on this way or you’re going to burn yourself out.”
Connor thinks about seeing Markus again. He has wished that he could spend more time with the man who caused him to break his programming and deviate. They’ve only had a few short conversations, but they’ve been the most intense of Connor’s short life. He thought the man would shoot him in that church after he brought the humans to Jericho, but instead, Markus trusted him. After Connor marched thousands of androids through the streets of Detroit, Markus uttered the phrase “we did it,” and Connor couldn’t have felt more proud. He wants to see Markus again, but the guilt threatens to overwhelm him again.
“Okay,” Connor finally agrees. “I’ll try to talk to Markus.”
“Good, now it’s time to go to bed,” Hank changes subjects. “Come on, get up.”
“But I sleep here,” Connor says, confused.
“Not tonight you don’t,” Hank disagrees. “Come on.” Connor stands up, not knowing where they are going, but follows Hank nonetheless. “After all the emotions you’ve been dealing with tonight, you need a real bed, somewhere to lie down.”
“I have no need to lie down in order to sleep,” Connor reminds him.
“It can’t hurt.” Hank leads him to a door that is always closed, and opens it slowly.
Connor takes in the sight before him. Children’s drawings on the wall, Star Wars sheets on the bed, toys in the closet. “This is Cole’s room,” he states unnecessarily. “Hank, I can’t.”
“You can, and you will,” Hank corrects him. “I never should have made you sleep on the couch when there was a perfectly good bed. But tonight you definitely need a good night’s sleep. So you’re sleeping here, end of discussion.”
Connor feels another emotion threatening to overwhelm him, but this one is good. He feels warm and cared for. Hank pulls back the sheets and helps Connor situate himself. The bed is comfortable, a trait Connor never sought out when finding a place to sleep, but now that he has it, he wonders why he’s been sleeping sitting up on the couch all this time.
“You go into sleep mode or whatever now,” Hank commands, “And don’t get up freakishly early for once. You need to sleep in.”
“Okay, Hank,” Connor agrees sleepily and dismisses his morning alarm. Hank chuckles and walks out of the room, turning off the light before closing the door. It’s the last thing Connor sees before sleep takes him.