Chapter Text
To say that the aftermath of the Android Revolution had been messy would be a massive understatement. Probably the understatement of the century, but there were still over 60 years left of it and Hank didn't wanna jinx it. True, it could have gone phenomenally wrong. All in all too much destruction had been avoided; but the fact that the following days had been a massive clusterfuck of confusion and fear and a giant raging headache for the Lieutenant - which made him feel exponentially less inclined to seeing the “bright side” as the kid had tried (and failed) to reassure – made him want to bury his head under the nearest rock and pretend he didn't have any responsibility or authority in this godforsaken city whatsoever.
Whoever thought putting him in charge of corralling lost androids back to the new Jericho (and indirectly making sure humans kept their destructive tendencies in check) while the evacuation was underway was a dumbass. He was no diplomat, he wasn’t SWAT, hell, he’d barely been 5 days sober when he got the assignment. Oh, wait, that had been Connor's suggestion, and Fowler (damn his shiny bald head), for lack of any other volunteers, senior officers or any concrete aid on this particularly delicate matter from the City Council, the FBI, Homeland Security and whoever the fuck else in a position of power had gotten involved in this shitfest, had elected to (surprisingly) listen to the android and saddled Hank with it. The fact that he no longer absolutely hated all androids (he tolerated them a little better than he tolerated most humans anyway) and wanted to help Connor and his people was beside the point.
This was a pain in the neck. Jeffrey probably used this to get back at him for all the bullshit he'd pulled with Perkins too.
He appreciated Connor's trust in him, really, even felt a little overwhelmed (though he’d be damned if he'd ever show it) when Robo-Jesus himself gave him a call to personally thank him and brief him on what he was supposed to do (it seems Connor had been planning this migraine for him for some time). Apparently an organized group of androids sent out to search for their brethren would not be tolerated and would be seen as an act of war by the American Government (ha!) and sending undercover agents alone was risky (though Hank was certain they'd done that too, no way they'd put all their eggs in one basket. He wondered if Connor himself was parkouring around town, looking for strays). So the bastards had gotten creative and maneuvered the acceptance of an 'Android rescue task force' made up of humans (fancy and a little stupid considering it was him and five other schmucks who were being little more than glorified and outdated taxi drivers).
He’d been busting his ass, organizing meeting spots where he and a couple of trusted human aides would pick up androids who apparently hadn't gotten the memo that a damn war had almost been avoided and city's human population was slowly (agonizingly slowly) being moved out under armed supervision. Then driving the clueless/hurt/scared/generally lost fucks back to safe ground before someone got vengeful and uppity and sneaked out of the steadily trickling river of humanity to bash their faces in. Or burn them. Or dismember them. Or shoot them. Or string them up like cattle – those had been the worst along with the dismembered AND burned ones. There were even some who hadn't broken free of their programming yet (he hated the word 'deviate' now, like free will was some disease).
Hank had a feeling the “supervisors” weren't doing their jobs too well. The first few days after the order to evacuate had been the worst, when they found more dead than alive in the city suburbs and outskirts. Soon enough, word got around and Hank managed to block out the horrible first finds and focus on saving the stragglers.
Two weeks into the evacuation, most of the human citizens had fled, the couple of stubborn individuals who remained would have to be coerced but SWAT and the rest of the Police force would eventually track them down, the homeless would be a different challenge, and the people with critical medical conditions who couldn't move as fast or couldn't be safely moved from the hospitals yet would be dealt with later along with the emergency responders, the doctors and others like them. He didn't know what would happen to the people with nowhere to go and likely minimal help from the powers-that-be. He didn't want to think about it too much since it was way above his pay-grade and he also really didn't need the added depression.
The last to leave would be the evacuation organizers and enforcers (aka, the fucks from City Hall and the Police) which suited Hank fine since he could check up on his dumbass plastic friend for a while yet.
Said dumbass was currently caught up in whatever fuckery the androids had going on to organize and shelter themselves (it was all very hush-hush, Connor had excused himself for not being able to explain to which Hank had in turn replied he had no desire to 'get caught up in android bureaucratic red-tape and other such bullshit'). Over the last few days more and more fortifications had sprung up overnight around the newly relocated Jericho.
The Cyberlife Tower had also been evacuated, swiftly and efficiently (by the big cahoonas in charge, no doubt) he'd heard from Connor that by the time Markus and his cronies regrouped and headed back towards the tower, most of the remaining important goods, research and employees had been whisked away in armored trucks, big busses, even construction vehicles, all under armed escort. At least, that's what they gathered from the scant drone recordings and eye-witnesses they could find.
When Connor had walked out of that hellhole with his army most of the humans had already scattered or likely hid until the droids left. Hank had managed to snag an automated taxi and (reluctantly) head home at the kid's insistence. Water under the bridge now.
So, Markus decided to appropriate the tower and the surrounding buildings, there were still plenty of resources that would benefit them left behind and they didn't have the time or means to cart all the stuff halfway across town.
The Cyberlife Tower became the new android central hub (although Hank had his suspicions about hidden caches and backup shelters littered all over town - he'd delivered too many of the stragglers in certain places for them not to be important somehow).
If Hank were the admitting kind, he’d say it was a little impressive how fast and subtle the androids had been about taking over the town. As soon as a grid sector was cleared, droid surveillance would pop up and later once a big enough space was cleared, they'd move bodies to keep it under control, expanding their influence by increments.
This time, they were armed too.
Nobody human was reclaiming that bit of town any time soon.
Time flies when you've got work coming outta yer ass, and soon enough it was Hank's turn to vacate his home. He felt a little miffed at this. You'd think being partners with Jericho's head of security and personally responsible for rescuing 78 androids (and overseeing the operation that saved another 237 and returned 21 bodies) would buy him some extra time at least.
What he got instead was a visit from Connor one afternoon, after Hank had headed home early since there wasn't much else for him to do, who informed him in that formal tone he had when he was feelin’ particularly awkward that he should pack his shit up soon because the Police force and everyone else left over was supposed to fuck off by the day after tomorrow at the latest (those weren't his exact words but that's how they felt).
How the idiot managed to look endearing while petting a very clingy Sumo and sound so infuriatingly mechanical at the same time was beyond him.
Hank had been a little stunned at first, only to immediately get spooked by his phone's emergency message hellishly loud peeping sound (he really needed to change that before it gave him a heart attack). The message had been the official order to leave.
He sighed and planted his hands on his hips. Sumo whined at him and looked between them with pleading eyes.
“So… this is it.” Connor was looking just about everywhere but at him.
Eventually he stopped avoiding his glare and met his eyes.
“I’m sorry. There's not much I can do. There's nothing for you if you stay and it would be beneficial for you to keep in-“
“I get it, I get it.” Hank interrupted before the plastic dumbass busted a circuit trying to explain whatever convincing bullshit he'd prepared.
“Can't have the old man cramping your style now that you're big in Jericho.” He added with a sly grin.
“You know that's not –“ he pauses with a squint once he sees Hank's hand reach up to cover his mouth.
“- oh... you were… joking.”
It's hard to stay mad at the kid when he's got that sheepish dorky half-smile on.
“C’mon, might as well make yerself useful and help me pack.”
The kid's smile seems to stretch (a bit wonky, but he'll take it) and they both headed towards the bedroom to start gathering his junk.