Chapter Text
He was falling.
The world moved by in a blur and Daniel continued to cling to his shirt; dragging them both down into oblivion, into nothingness, to their deaths.
No, not death. Androids couldn’t die because they weren’t alive. When they hit the ground, they would simply shut down.
And then he woke up.
“Your name is Peter.”
My name is Peter.
. . .
Mission: Find Tony Stark
He found him at the fifth bar, sitting with a drink in hand and sunglasses still on despite the fact it was 9:37 at night and the sun had been down for five hours and six minutes.
“Lieutenant Stark? My name is Peter, I’m the android sent by Cyberlife.”
The man continued to stare down into his glass, shoulders tense.
“I looked for you at your home as well as the station, but couldn’t find you. The other officers said that you frequented local bars nightly.”
Stark’s mouth moved, muttering something too low to hear but Peter’s programming read his lips and the most likely possibility appeared in the bottom left corner of his vision.
Traitors.
“What do you want?”
“Earlier this evening you were assigned a homicide involving a Cyberlife android. In accordance with procedure, the company has sent a specialized model to assist investigators.”
“Well, I don’t need any assistance,” He took another sip of his drink, “Especially not from a piece of plastic like you, so go away.”
“I’m sorry Lieutenant but I must insist. My instructions stipulate that I have to accompany you.”
“You know where you can stick your instructions?” The man chuckled at himself, though Peter couldn't understand why, before continuing to drink.
“No. Where?”
Stark looked slightly offended, turning towards Peter with an annoyed look he could see even through the sunglasses, “Never mind.”
“You know what, I’ll buy you one for the road. What do you say? Bartender?” The long-haired man on the other side looked over at Peter, “One more for him, please.”
“See that, Jim?” Stark said as the bartender moved to pour his drink, “Wonders of technology. Make it a double would you?”
He downed it, coughing and sighing a little bit afterward, before he finally rose from the barstool; adjusting his dark coat.
“Homicide, you say?”
. . .
Police lights illuminated the rundown neighborhood, a crowd of civilians and cops alike surrounding the caution tape around the property.
“Stay here in the car,” Stark said, voice stern and gruff, “I won’t be long.”
“Whatever you say, Lieutenant.”
Stark scoffed, rolling his eyes beneath the glasses, and opened the door, “You say that and yet you won’t leave me alone.”
A row of text appeared across Peter’s vision, Conflicting Orders… Selecting Priority… Follow Tony Stark.
Peter nodded, opening the door and stepping out into the freezing November rain to follow after Stark, who was now pushing through the crowd of reporters at the break in the line of police cars.
“Joss Douglas, for Channel 16, can you confirm that this is a homicide?”
“I’m not confirming anything at this time.”
“Cops,” One of the women scoffed, “They never tell us anything anymore.”
Peter reached the caution tape, only to be stopped by a police android on the other side, “Androids are not permitted beyond this point.”
“It’s with me!” Stark turned where he was talking to another officer up ahead, and the android waved him through; the man speaking again once Peter was close enough to hear him without yelling, “Does ‘stay in the car’ mean nothing to you or are you just stupid?”
“Your order contradicted my instructions, Lieutenant.”
Stark sighed in resignation, “Don’t touch anything, don’t say anything, and stay out of the way. Understood?”
“Understood.”
“Evening, Tony!” Another man who had stepped out onto the house’s porch while they talked called out, “Was wondering if you were ever gonna show.”
“Well, I was planning not to, honestly. And then this ,” Stark gestured to Peter with a look of disgust on his face, “dragged me over here. Now enough talk, tell me what happened.”
The man turned towards the house and Stark and Peter followed, “We had a call around eight from the landlord. The tenant hadn’t paid rent for a few months, so he thought he’d drop by and see what was going on. That’s when he found the body.”
Immediately after the crossed the threshold Stark gagged, hand coming up to cover his mouth and pinch his nose, “Oh that is disgusting.”
“It was even worse before we opened the windows.”
The officer gestured to the victim lying against the far wall and Peter took a moment to analyze the scene. Trash and broken furniture littered the floor as well as a thick layer of dust that seemed to cover everything. From what he could tell at this distance the victim, facial recognition declaring him to be Carlos Ortiz, had been stabbed to death at least a week or two ago, dried blood smeared down the wall and caked on the floor beneath him. Above him on the wall sat blocky, consistent writing in his blood.
I AM ALIVE
“The victim’s name was Carlos Ortiz,” The officer said and Stark nodded, pulling off his sunglasses to take a closer look at the victim, shining his flashlight over him, “He has a record for theft and aggravated assault. According to the neighbors he was a loner, stayed inside most of the time, no one ever really saw him.”
“You couldn’t have called everyone in in the morning?” Stark glanced up with annoyance in his eyes, “He’s already been dead for a while, what would one more night do?”
“Tony.”
He sighed and rolled his eyes, “Alright then, continue.”
“I’d say he’s been there for a good three weeks,” Peter thought so too, now that they were closer his scanners could pick up more of the decomposition of the body, as well as the number of stab wounds, twenty-eight, which confirmed it to be the cause of death, “We’ll know more when the coroner gets here. There’s a kitchen knife over there, looks like it’s probably the murder weapon.”
“Any sign of a break-in?”
“Nope. The landlord said the front door was locked from the inside and all the windows were boarded up. The killer must have gone out the back way.”
“What do we know about his android?”
“Not much, the neighbors confirmed he had one, but it wasn’t here when we arrived.” The officer gestured back towards the door, “I’m going to go get some air now, the smell is starting to get to me. Let me know if you need anything.”
Stark nodded and rose from where he was kneeling next to the body, stepping away to glance around.
Peter recalled that the lieutenant had said not to touch anything, but he never said that he couldn't look, and since his orders were to assist in the investigation, it would be a waste of Cyberlife resources and time if he just stood in the corner of the crime scene.
On the table he found a torn plastic bag of red ice, the majority of its contents spilled out onto the table and floor. The victim used drugs.
The words in his vision faded away, only for new ones to take their place as he moved to analyze the bloody knife on the floor; taking a sample off of the blade and putting it in his mouth.
“What are you doing get that out of your mouth-”
“I’m analyzing the blood!” Peter said cheerfully, “I can check samples in real time. I’m sorry, I should have warned you ahead of time.”
“Okay, just,” He waved his hands in the air in front of him almost frantically, “Don’t put any more evidence in your mouth, got it?”
“Got it.”
Stark turned away, mumbling under his breath, “I thought I was done with this kind of thing but apparently not.”
His hands clenched into fists at his side for a moment and he took a deep breath, releasing it slowly and reopening his hands before continuing his walk across the room.
Peter looked away and brought his focus back to the analysis results in his field of vision for both the blood and knife handle.
Dried Blood
DNA Analysis: ORTIZ, Carlos
Sample Date: >19 days
No Fingerprints Found
“Each letter is perfect,” Stark said from where he was standing by the body, “It’s way too neat, no human writes like this. Chris?”
The officer poked his head in from the porch and Stark turned to address him, “Was this written in the victim’s blood?”
“Looks like it, the samples are on their way to the lab for analysis.”
“I want a full analysis on the narcotics on the table as well.”
Chris nodded and disappeared and Stark made his way into the next room; Peter moving to follow him there.
A chunk of the wall was missing, blood smeared on the jagged shards of wood and nails that stuck out into the walkway. A quick check of the back door and yard told him that the murderer had not escaped that way, and when Stark had asked how he knew, he told him that the specific type of soil there would have held traces of the shoes despite the length of time since the death.
The suspect didn’t escape that way, or through the front door, or through the windows. How did he get out?
The question lingered in the corner of his sight as they rounded the broken wall into the kitchen. One of the chairs and the table had fallen to the ground, the other one having barely been missed by the table leg and was still standing. Fingerprints on the top of the fallen chair matched the victim’s, as well as on the baseball bat laying on the floor nearby.
“There was a struggle,” Peter said, rising from where he had knelt to scan the bat and the blue blood caked on the end of it, “It started in here.”
The program began to take the evidence and play out the scene before his eyes; the android by the sink, Mr. Ortiz hitting it with the baseball bat, the android attempting to dodge the blows and falling against the nearby countertop.
“The victim attacked the android, which most likely caused an emotional shock. The android fell here,” He tapped the countertop and Stark watched intently, “and grabbed the knife from there.”
He pointed at the empty space on the magnetic knife rack, and the scene continued to play out as he moved.
“The android swung the knife at the victim, and he dropped the bat and fell backwards, into the table. The fight then moved to the living room.”
Stark silently followed him back into the main room.
“Based on the blood patterns and locations he fell here, against the wall, where the now-deviant android proceeded to stab the victim twenty-eight times.”
“It was trying to defend itself,” Stark hummed, “The question is, where did it go after?”
“It was damaged by the bat, which means it was probably losing thirium," He turned to Stark, who seemed to understand what he was saying, but as a precaution he decided to further explain, "Also known as blue blood. It's the fluid that powers an android's biocomponents and after a couple hours it evaporates and becomes invisible to the naked eye-”
“But let me guess, you can still see it?”
“Correct.”
He caught sight of the thirium through his scanners and began to follow the traces through the house, Stark once again trailing behind at a leisurely pace, and found the end of the path leading up into the attic.
Peter found that said attic was dark and cluttered, a rather creepy mannequin standing behind a sheet and causing him to mistake it for the missing android at first.
He stepped around the junk and furniture that littered the attic and there was a crash in the far corner as the deviant was startled and darted out of its hiding place.
When he did find the android, it was covered in both red and blue blood, the synthetic skin of his right arm damaged and retracted to reveal the shiny and equally damaged android casing.
“I was just defending myself,” It said, a pleading look in its eye as its LED stayed red, “He was gonna kill me. I’m begging you, don’t tell them.”
“Peter! What’s going on up there?”
Complete the mission.
“This is what you were made to do, Peter,” Amanda’s voice boomed in his mind, “You were created to hunt deviants. It’s who you are.”
“Please.”
Complete the mission.
“It’s here, Lieutenant!”
Mission Completed.