Chapter Text

*Hank Anderson*

~January 10th, 2039 - 1:48 AM~

The house was silent, save for the small clink of half melted ice hitting the bottom of a bourbon glass, the slight buzzing of the light bulb that hung over the kitchen table.

The TV was on, but some pointless infomercial graced the screen, due to it being so late at night. The grizzled lieutenant paid no attention, it’s sound seemed far away, muffled almost, as his mind was clouded by the booze that overtook it.

It had been a while since he had gotten this hammered, but this night he didn’t care, as he held the assumption that he wouldn't be alive much longer.

An almost empty bottle of Jack Daniel’s sat upon the table to his left, the now polished off glass held listlessly in his hand. The photo of Cole laid down on the table in front of him, and to his right, his personal weapon, a .357 revolver.

Hank thought to himself, it’s been a while since he’s done...this. He let his hand wander over to the gun, his fingers brushing the cold metal of the gun barrel. If Connor were home to see this, he would without a doubt be upset, betrayed, angry…

It had been a few months since the revolution, androids of every kind had since gained autonomy. While many laws had been passed, a few others had yet to make it through.

One such was the right to independently own properties. As such Connor had been living with Hank since the day the demonstration happened, and his younger brother Nines had resided with Gavin, but knowing the type of relationship the human and android now shared, it was clear that Nines would have no intentions of ever leaving.

Androids had gained the right to earn their own income from whatever jobs they have, regardless of whether it was a job they were previously programmed to perform. Connor genuinely loved his job as a detective, and opted to stay at the DPD, remaining Hank’s partner, and getting to work alongside Nines. 

Despite his broken mental state, Hank let a small chuckle escape his throat.

Nines, such an interesting character. It turns out Cyberlife had been developing the RK900 prototype during Connor’s deployment to the DPD.

The new and improved ‘Connor’ series was to be released while Connor himself was gonna be decommissioned if he had completed his mission, but Connor had made the right choice, becoming a deviant and helping Markus succeed in the demonstration, thus Cyberlife was no longer able to control him, even after attempting to override his programming during Markus’s speech.

Cyberlife had the first ever RK900 already assembled and ready for deployment, and it was revealed that the State Department had previously ordered 200,000 additional RK units, but since the demonstration these plans were more or less permanently scrapped.

Connor had discovered his more advanced doppelganger while freeing the other androids at the Cyberlife tower and took it upon himself to awake and free him.

Nines was truly one of a kind, like Markus, being the only RK900 to be released, to be free, and alive like his brother.

Connor and Hank had grown close, to the point where Hank had officially ‘adopted’ Connor as his son. Connor himself was hesitant on the new found relationship, feeling as if he was replacing Cole entirely.

Hank had reassured him a thousand times over that that wasn’t the case. Since then Connor seems to have embraced this newfound feeling of parental love, giving and receiving the affection Hank gave him, well, what Hank perceived as affection.

The grizzled cop admitted that affection of any kind has not been his strong suit, not since Cole’s death all those years ago. He had been working to get better at it, as was Connor. The android, in his own awkward and quirky way was also weird with showing affection, but unlike Hank was eager to learn and get better.

Now Nines, despite being younger, had caught onto emotions and affections far faster than Connor. His more advanced processors allowed him to do such, and despite having a very rocky start at the DPD (no thanks to Gavin) had developed a very solid personality of his own, with his own quirks and habits.

Gavin has since benefited greatly from being with Nines, despite still being quite the asshole, he had someone in his life to keep him well grounded, and Hank is highly grateful for that. 

Well was grateful. It wouldn’t matter in the next 5 minutes.

Hank sighed heavily, looking back over at Cole’s picture. His features heavy with grief, guilt and hopelessness. Since Connor had entered his life, Connor took it upon himself to try and help Hank improve his mental and physical wellbeing, breaking old destructive habits, including eating better and recovering from years of hard alcoholism.

Somehow Connor had also convinced him to go on antidepressants, to help cope with the suicidal tendencies he had been suffering with. Hank put his head in his hands, leaning back in his chair. He sighed deeply, the pang of guilt in his heart growing ever stronger.

Hank was a lot of things, an asshole and a smartass, but he always spoke his mind, and was almost always honest. He assumed Connor didn’t know, but Hank had gone off his meds. He had been off them for a few weeks already, claiming that he was taking them as intended. He had a feeling Connor could easily scan him, analyzing his body and sensing the instabilities, but Connor had not mentioned anything, giving no indication that he knew. 

Hank heaved another drunken sigh. He felt so bad, so so bad.

He had been lying to Connor, giving the android the false hope that he had been getting better, that he had been taking the pills when in reality he had been hiding them in the trash. Connor expressed happiness and gratefulness for Hank’s progress, seeing his ‘father’ improving, despite the several setbacks they had faced beforehand.

Hank absolutely refused to talk to a therapist, he was never good with words, so he opted to just popping a pill every day.

Hank let his hands fall back on the table, he grabbed the whisky bottle, and poured what was left of the liquid into the glass, quickly swigging it down. The burn of it had long since disappeared.

He no longer felt it, as he had been nursing the bottle for the past hour or so. The revolver had one bullet in it but unlike last time Hank wasn’t playing roulette. He swallowed the whiskey, letting out a long, ragged breath. His vision was spinning, his mind muddled.

The TV might as well had been off, cuz he no longer heard it.

“T-TV…..Oooooffffff……” Hank slurred out. 

From his seat he saw the TV turned off, the screen going black. All the while, Sumo had been in the backyard. Connor had taken it upon himself to install a small kennel in the back, along with a dog door, that frankly took up half of the backdoor in the kitchen due to the dog’s size.

This allowed Sumo outside time when Connor and Hank were away at work, he could go outside and do his business, get some fresh air and get some exercise. The Bernard was currently outside, enjoying the cool crisp air.

It wasn’t as snowy as people thought it would be, a slight dusting at best, thus the dog could move around freely and didn’t track snow into the house. Hank briefly glanced at the back door, making sure the dog wasn’t due to come lumbering back in any time soon.

The last thing he wanted was a distraction, from anyone. Nobody, neither human, android, or animal. 

Connor himself was still at the DPD. He was working late to process some last minute paperwork.

Hank had left early that day, claiming that he was feeling ‘unwell’, not that that was a lie per say. Fowler, while obviously unimpressed, let him go, clearly used to this kind of routine. Connor said he would stay, getting both his and Hank’s work done in the meantime.

It was now past 2 AM, and Connor was still due to come home. Again, it wouldn’t matter. Hank leaned back again, this time picking up the revolver in his now shaking hand.

His broken mind spinning, going a million miles an hour. His heart beating rapidly. He briefly looked back at the events that lead to this very moment. A specific, and very painful memory flashed through his head, an event that was as painful as the night Cole died.

A traumatic event, that had pushed Hank over the edge this very night since being off his meds…..

~November 8th, 2038 - 3:45 PM~

*Stradford Tower*

Hank stood idly by, his arms crossed. A disgruntled expression on his face. Getting a snarky earful from that sorry FBI sod Perkins put him in a bad mood.

Connor had gone to the kitchen to interrogate the broadcast operator androids, determined to find out which one was a deviant. They had already investigated the roof, finding no trace of any of the deviants that had previously infiltrated the tower to deliver their message to humanity.

Hank looked around the broadcast room, glancing upon the dozens of screens line the wall in front of him. He ran Markus’s message through his mind again, thinking about what was said.

A better future for humans and androids.

Alive, living as one, together, in peace. Hank pondered on that. Maybe he was wrong, maybe androids weren’t as bad as he thought, maybe…..just maybe.

His thoughts wandered to Connor.

The detective unit was quite a strange one, with his weird quirks, habits, and ways of speaking. Regardless of whether Cyberlife had programmed him to be as such, the way Connor acted was quite genuine.

The way he stimmed with his signature coin didn’t feel like something Cyberlife had pre-programmed into him. It felt real, and Connor’s initial comment on how he liked dogs also felt as such. Why would Cyberlife program a police unit to like dogs? It made no sense, and Hank couldn’t quite wrap his head around it. 

Movement from his peripherals caught his eye.

Hank turned his head to see one of the broadcast androids leaving the kitchen. The android looked calm and collected, no signs of distress or anxiousness. He walked calmly and smoothly towards the exit, making his way past the CSI workers, and other police officers.

A feeling of dread suddenly swept through him.

Something didn’t feel right. Connor said he was interrogating the androids, so why would one be leaving the room? Only one?

He then heard yelling.

He gazed down the hallway leading to the broadcast room. The android was assaulting one of the FBI agents who had attempted to stop him from leaving, the android was wrestling to take the agent’s gun from his hands. 

Hank’s police instincts sprung into action.

Pulling his gun from his holster he rushed to the entrance of the broadcast room, using the sidewall as cover. He yelled out to everyone to duck down as he aimed his weapon at the android. Lining up the shot, he was able to land a fatal blow to the operator’s head, shutting him down.

The android fell to the ground like a stone, blue blood splattered the door behind him and the ground beneath him.

Officers and agents alike slowly rose up from their ducking positions, trying to process what just happened. Hank was panting slightly, as he shakily re-holstered his gun. He looked around making sure everyone was okay. His eyes fell on Chris, who was bringing himself up from the ground, clearly shaken, but unharmed.

Hank let out a breath, he had prevented a potential massacre. Lord knows what would have happened if he wasn't fast enough, if it wasn’t for Conner’s advice, he probably wouldn’t have had the knowledge to be able lineup the head shot like he did, well on an android at least. 

Wait...Connor. Oh SHIT CONNOR!! 

Hank snapped himself out of it, adrenaline still pumping strong through his system, Hank turned tail and raced back to the kitchen.

Something had happened, something bad. For that android to do what he did, something had gone down.

He slowed down to a power walk as he entered the kitchen, being cautious in case there were more unpleasant surprises. He wished he hadn’t thought that, because there was indeed a ‘surprise’ in store for him, one that would be forever burned into his memory.

"Haaaaaank…!!! I need heeeelp…!!” 

Hank heard the pained, raspy cries of the android as he entered the room. His attention briefly snapped to the remaining two broadcast androids standing at attention to the side of the room, obviously not deviated, and oblivious to the events that had taken place beforehand.

Hank walked around the table to see Connor crawling across the floor on his stomach. Hank’s eyes went wide with horror, he raced to Connor’s side.

“Connor!!!” Hanks exclaimed. “Hang on son, hang on, hang on! We’re gonna save you, hang on!...here, here…” He fell to his knees, carefully turning Connor on his back so he could support him better.

Hank took notice of the knife wound in Connor’s hand, as it was covered with blue blood and had a distinctive hole in it. He also took notice of the other hole, in Connor’s chest.

His Thirium regulator had been violently ripped out in the initial assault.

He didn’t know where said regulator was though, as his full attention had been on Connor the whole time.

“...deviant….” Connor choked out, as Hank supported him in his lap. 

Deviant? That bastard I shot, he did this to Connor? Oh no…..

Hank had a firm hold on his shoulders, trying to keep the android awake. Connor’s LED flashed a bright red, signifying a serious problem. He grimaced hard as he looked up at Hank, with pained brown eyes.

“.....there was….a…...deviant…..” He gasped, clearly in distress. 

Hank didn’t understand how biocomponents worked. He knew Connor was going to shut down very soon, but he didn’t know what to do or how to help his partner.

Hank started to get another thought, he started having a flashback to that night, the accident.

He looked down at Connor but saw...Cole.

The blue blood that had blossomed across his white button up shirt seemed to turn red, his body was going limp in his arms, his eyes fluttering a few times before closing completely.

Connor let out one last breath, the red light of his LED fading, until it was gone. Connor was gone.

Hank yanked himself back to reality, realizing that the android, his partner….his son had officially shut down.

“Connor!” He exclaimed, shaking Connor’s shoulders. Even though it would do no good, he felt the need to do so.

“Connor…” Hank said again, much more softly. He brought a hand up from Connor’s left shoulder. “Oh no….” he laid said hand across Connor’s forehead. His skin felt so cold, the warmth that once radiated from it had gone. 

The way Connor ‘died’, it looked and felt too real.

It wasn’t stiff or robotic like other android deaths he had seen. It was too human and it killed Hank on the inside. He had been reminded of the worst night of his entire life.

He had lost his son all over again.

He was aware that Connor would come back, that Cyberlife would deploy another RK800, and Connor’s consciousness and memory banks would be transferred to the new unit, but it didn’t make Hank feel any better. Internally it would be the same Connor he met, yet it wouldn’t be. The whole prospect messed with his head. 

He sat there on the floor, cradling Connor’s body in his arms. He maneuvered his hand from Connor’s forehead and started listlessly combing his fingers through the android’s hair. Hank could have sworn he felt tears stinging his eyes, but his mind was too numb to register anything else….

~January 10th, 2039 - 2:25 AM~

The flashback flew through Hank’s liquored mind, the feeling of Connor’s cold skin could be felt yet again on his hand, despite nothing being there.

It was a horrible event, and as he expected, Connor had showed up to the DPD the next day.

The android acted like nothing happened.

Hank felt uneasy for sometime after, but when he knew that Connor had retained 90% of his memories, the feeling soon left, and things more or less went back to normal. 

Hank leaned back in his chair, starting to feel faint and woozy. He was close to blacking out, like the last time he played Russian Roulette but had passed out before the deed was done.

He took pride in the feeling that he would succeed this time. Hank turned his head to read the wall clock. 2:25 am. 

Fuck...I’ve been wasting time….

Hank leaned forward, the wooziness only increasing. The corners of his vision began to darken, his hand was shaking uncontrollably. The gun felt like it weighed a ton. He slowly began to lift it, but paused one last time.

The house was quiet. Sumo was still outside, again it wasn’t freezing so the dog was enjoying his time in the kennel. Connor was still due to return back. There were no calls or messages from the android on Hank’s phone. 

Must have been that much work, huh....

Hank closed his eyes for the final time.

He lifted the gun, pointing the barrel at his temple. His body was on the verge of collapsing out of the chair, the booze blackout overtaking him. He didn’t realize that the gun was swaying terribly in his hand, as what was left of his motor skills had deteriorated.

His finger slightly fumbled to find the trigger, but eventually he had found it.

Hey Cole, dad’s coming to see you...I’ll be right there....

BANG.