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The revolution hadn't been over for more than a month when Hank started thinking about Connor. The first Connor he’d met. The one who’d died saving his life at Stratford tower when that deviant had released a fuckton of bullets at all the police officers and FBI agents present.
It's not like he hadn't thought about it before, but there had been no shortage of shitty cases to handle involving androids and bitter humans so most of his time went to that. And when he wasn't working long-ass shifts at the DPD, he was drinking a beer or three on his couch with Connor at his side and Sumo sprawled on top of the android. Trying to get the fucking android to relax and enjoy a movie or a game without him downloading the plot or analyzing the hell out of the players was a challenge but fuck if he didn't get a kick out of seeing Connor's live reactions to plot twists.
But back to his original point.
What even happened to that Connor? Cyberlife was the one to come collect the body and then they just sent a replacement Connor. Did he just get scrapped? Tossed out like you would a broken toaster? It didn't sit well with Hank, especially now that he'd developed some sort of feelings for Connor.
He never said anything about his feelings. He’d rather shove them so far into his body that his stupid feelings would clog his arteries. He chuckled at the thought. And Connor still worried about his diet killing him.
He didn’t know how to bring up the topic either. Connor would probably give him a blunt answer, but it still seemed like a subject that he wasn’t supposed to bring up. But of course his dumbass mouth let the question tumble out one afternoon while they were walking Sumo.
Connor’s steps faltered and he gave him an indecipherable look. “You mean the previous Connor,” Connor said, although Hank doubted he needed clarification, “Number 51. The one who was… the one who died in Stratford tower.”
Hank nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets as much as he could with Sumo’s leash looped around his wrist. “I uh- I never found out what happened to him after Cyberlife took his body away.”
Usually there’d be funerals to attend, a body to bury, but that was before androids were accepted as living beings. “Just wanted to know if you knew what happened to him is all,” Hank finished with what he hoped was nonchalance.
He knew he wasn’t fooling anyone, least of all Connor.
Connor’s shoulders sagged, and his gaze traveled to Sumo, watching as the big lug sniffed at anything that caught his attention, gently pulling at his leash but never pulling too hard. “I do,” Connor said finally, his fingers twitching for his pocket before he pulled them away, instead worrying his cuffs. “I’m an advanced prototype, as you know.”
Hank nodded, he knew all about that as the android liked to say it smuggly to him when they were teasing each other. “And?”
“Cyberlife only made a certain amount of components for the RK800 series, since they’d already started working on the RK900 line to improve upon areas they found my series to be… lacking.” He said the last part with pursed lips, like it wasn’t something he wanted to say aloud. “Counting the one we encountered at Cyberlife’s headquarters, there were sixty RK800’s made.”
Hank’s eyes widened. “There are that many more of you out there?”
Connor met his gaze and gave him a rueful smile. It looked weird on his face, weirder than his usual forced smiles. “There was originally only one, but when a prototype fails, you have to make another prototype.” He brought one of his up to his chest, right where Hank knew was his pump thing. “I’m the only RK800 left at this point in time, and I possess components from all the previous Connor’s.”
Hank let out a puff of air. “Shit…” He didn’t know how to respond to that. “So you all had the same body?”
Connor shook his head. “No, exteriors were easy enough to recreate, especially since the frames of previous RK800’s had usually been rendered useless or it was cheaper to just make a new frame. I mean my bio-components. For example, I have 51’s thirium pump.”
Thirium pump, essentially an android’s heart. Hank knew that it wasn’t really the heart that was responsible for feelings, but he couldn’t stop thinking that Connor’s feelings toward him related to Hank through the component in some way.
“But the bodies,” Connor began, his voice softer than before, “I can show you where they went. I should warn you though, it isn’t pretty.”
Hank examined Connor’s body language, how he was fidgeting and hunched ever-so slightly from his usual perfect posture. “Are you sure you’d be okay with that? You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do, Con.”
Connor’s lips quirked in a much more natural manner. “I know I don’t, but I think I should show you. For both of our sakes.”
Something told Hank he was going to regret opening his fucking mouth.
Connor didn’t tell him where they were headed, he just mentally put the location into the cab they were taking. Why they couldn’t just use his car, Hank didn’t know, but he didn’t feel like he should argue with the android. Connor’s LED was still yellow and he kept fidgeting and avoiding Hank’s attempts at getting him to look at him.
Hank looked at the passing scenery. They’d entered the rougher part of Detroit, each house looking more dilapidated than the last.
“So uh are we close?” Hank asked, desperately trying to fill the stifling silence that had surrounded them since Hank had brought up the topic of the other Connor.
Connor nodded his head, his hands clenching against his thighs. “We should be there in the next few minutes,” Connor reassured.
“You don't seem too thrilled about it.”
“I’m fine.”
Hank snorted. “Yeah of course you are, just as ‘fine’ as I am after too many drinks.” He hesitantly reached his hand out and laid it on Connor's knee. “You know it's okay not to be fine, right? We don't have to even go if you don't feel comfortable.”
Connor shook his head. “You deserve to see where my predecessors went.”
“And you deserve to feel comfortable, you damn android. In this situation your feelings take priority.”
“I'm just bracing myself for what I'm about to see, Hank. I’ve been to this place only a few times, and those were when Amanda wanted to show me what would happen to me should I fail my mission.” Connor sent him an attempt at a smile that read more as a grimace. “It seems strange that she would try to instill fear in someone she insisted wasn't capable of real emotions, now that I think about it.”
“Did it?”
“Did it instill fear? I think I felt unsettled at the time, my thirium pump pumping faster, but I hadn't realized that the feeling was synonymous with fear.”
Hank shook his head and felt hatred bubble up once again in his gut over this Amanda woman. He was glad she was gone from Connor's systems but a part of him wanted to at least get some kind of role in her downfall.
When they arrived, Hank couldn't find any words to say besides, “Fucking Christ…”
A landfill. Connor had taken them to a landfill filled with android corpses. It was like finding the aftermath of a genocide and he guessed that's not an incorrect statement but for fucks sake. He thought the androids who were killed in the camps were… well he hadn't really stopped to consider them actually. He knew thousands were killed but he didn't think about where the bodies went. And now he knew.
“It apparently looks better now,” Connor said, breaking the silence that had settled over them like a shroud. “Jericho has been putting forward efforts to see the dead here both documented and buried.”
“This is better?” Hank asked, his voice coming out breathy and soft.
Connor nodded. “You couldn't see the ground before.”
Hank felt that queasy feeling in his stomach bubble dangerously but swallowed it down, nodding his head back. “Right…”
Connor took his hand in his own and started guiding him through the debris and bodies surrounding them. “It's this way.”
Hank followed after Connor, avoiding looking at his feet in risk of seeing the empty husk of an android or the flies swarming around the waste underfoot. The stench of trash hung heavy in the air and Hank was sure the only reason he hadn't thrown up from the smell was because he was used to the smell of crime scenes. He tried not to think about what he stumbled over.
“It isn't much further,” Connor said, his voice cutting through the noise of the flies buzzing around.
“And… they're all together?” Hank asked.
“Of course.”
Connor acted like it was the obvious answer but after Hank had seen all the bodies strawn around the landfill, he wasn't too sure.
If Hank hadn't been paying attention to Connor's movements he would've slammed into the android. “Fucking A, you gotta warn-”
“We're here.”
Hank blinked at Connor’s tense shoulders before sidling up beside him. He gazed around at what Connor couldn't look away from and felt like his breath had been punched out of him.
Bodies upon bodies of mangled plastic lay strewn about without rhyme or reason. Mud and unidentifiable waste marred their once pristine white surfaces. Some had limbs that were hanging on by a single cable, others had gaping caverns in their abdomens where their bio-components used to reside. Others had pieces missing from their faces, missing eyes or a cheek gone.
And then some had bullet holes. Hollowed out sections that would have once spilled blue blood were simply slightly melted plastic and possibly some gunpowder if Hank was seeing correctly.
“... They shot you?” Hank asked, taking a single step towards the other Connor models. Even without skin or hair, Hank could see the resemblance in the bodies and Connor's. “Cyberlife shot you?”
“They wanted to make sure I was… exactly what they wanted me to be,” Connor answered after a moment of silence. Connor moved to stand back at Hank's side. “I didn't pass many tests in the beginning.”
He didn't know what to say to that and he doubted his mouth would cooperate. Instead he returned his gaze to the bodies and stared.
“I don't know where the specific body you mentioned is, but it's here.”
He knew Connor was trying to be helpful and reassure him that his “predecessor's” body was here, but Hank couldn't register it; all he could register was that there were enough bodies that you couldn't see them all.
He must have been quiet for too long because suddenly there was a hand on his arm and a quiet utterance of his name that sounded too loud in the quietness of the landfill. He turned away from the bodies to look at Connor. The android’s eyes flitted across his face as if searching for how Hank was feeling.
Hank reached up and placed his hand on top of Connor's own, halting Connor's constant worrying of his sleeve. They didn't say anything to each other but Hank would like to believe they didn't need to. It was a moment of silence, for the deaths that Connor had endured, for the ones that didn't make it, for the ones that never got to be free.
Not knowing what to say, Hank slowly drew Connor into an embrace, giving him plenty of time to pull away if Connor preferred not to be touched at that moment. He smoothed his hands down and up Connor's back; Hank wasn't sure if it would be the same for androids, but it usually worked to comfort humans. Whether Connor felt comforted or not, he didn't say but he did bury his face in Hank's neck.
“When Markus and his people finally get around to… sending them off properly,” Hank said, keeping his voice soft, “we'll visit again to pay our respects.”
Connor made a noncommittal noise that would have been a little funny had they been in a different location. “Hank can we-”
“Let's go home, Connor.”