Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“So, what’s your poison?”

“Whiskey.”

Hank gives a small hum of surprise. He’d expected maybe something a bit more stereotypical like wine, but it wasn’t like he was going to dispute or offer something ‘better’. He wasn’t even sure what all Jimmy actually served and if it would be any good. “Is Black Lamb alright?”

Kamski’s expression shifts from his usual blank stare into sarcastic confusion, where his brow furrows but he holds an almost contradictory smirk, the look someone gives as they run a punchline through their head a few times. “That question would imply that there’s any other brand of whiskey, Lieutenant.” A soft and short huff of a laugh almost covers the last word, like he couldn’t quite hold in his amusement till he finished his sentence.

Hank can’t hold his amusement either, a smile tugging on the right side of his lips as he makes a limp wave as a signal to Jimmy. “You heard him. Make it a double.” That gets Kamski to perk up a little out of shock, not much but noticeably. “My treat, alright?” Less of an actual question and more of a demand. Kamski doesn’t seem like he’s going to argue.

The bar is empty and amazingly still open; it’s been less than a month since the revolution so not many people stop by Jimmy’s Bar anymore but Hank figured that Jimmy would’ve left town like all his patrons, especially since he ran the bar with a strict “No Androids Allowed” rule. That was until Connor came. Just a week after the revolution, Hank had discovered the bar still open and paid Jimmy a visit. The signs were all taken down. When Hank asked why Jimmy was still in an android-taken Detroit- “I had that rule a little for myself, but mostly I made decent business from those that just wanted a break from their androids or just didn’t like them at all, like you.” The last words hid their own question: ‘What am I doing here? I could ask you the same thing.’ Jimmy was surprised at Hank’s admission that Connor grew on him, that he ended up actually caring for the kid and even helped in the breaking-in of Cyberlife. The conversation led to Hank dumping every last minute he spent with Connor on his friend, and even when Hank made some snarky comment pretending to have been annoyed, like how Connor followed him like a dog, it was obvious that there was nothing but affection for the kid. It brought a life that Jimmy never got to see, the spark that Hank must’ve had back when Cole was still around, before he drowned his sorrows away sitting in the exact same stool he was now. “You should bring Con around. He seems like a good kid.” While Hank was cutting back on drinking, he still visited quite often but with Connor right beside him. Jimmy easily saw the awkward, need-to-please charm Con possessed.

Tonight, here he was with Connor sitting to his right, but now he also dragged along The Elijah Kamski, who just a couple hours before was sitting on the floor of a Cyberlife bathroom while Hank was trying to comfort him through his throat-tearing sobs that almost made him choke.

*

The progression that led to Hank and Connor being Kamski’s bodyguards was fairly natural but still quite sudden.

Androids had been reporting a group of humans that were seen stalking and attacking other androids. The members were all masked whenever seen, the only identifying factor being a symbol they wore on their shirts: the symbol of Jericho broken from a diagonal slash through it. This little gang had even planned an attack on Connor by attempting to break into Hank’s home while he was at work. With the revolution, some androids had chosen to take up jobs in Detroit as a means of keeping the city functional and normal, though it wasn’t all immediate. Though the DPD lost members to the evacuation and needed as many people as it could get, Hank advised Connor that he deserved a break when the DPD ‘opened again’ a few days after the revolution. Besides, Sumo loved the attention. That soon proved to be a dangerous decision with Connor being one of the first androids attacked by the nameless gang that was fueled by the tensions left from the revolution. Connor had to grab Sumo when he heard the people outside surrounding the house and the kitchen window smash, and dash under Hank’s bed to hide while Con messaged Hank. The team of officers didn’t even get all the way to the house since they found Connor and Sumo nearly a mile away from it running for the DPD. The gang dropped their pursuit upon hearing sirens and Connor luckily had nothing more than an injured arm and a few areas of synthetic skin giving away from damage. Sumo had an injured paw but seemed more concerned with Con. It then became a ritual for Hank to bring Connor and Sumo to the DPD, and wherever he couldn’t take Sumo, Jericho seemed happy to play with him, Simon being the main keeper for Sumo there.

The gang’s main targets seemed to be only androids… until Kamski showed his face in public again. Many were surprised to say the least when they heard that Markus actually considered Kamski as family. It was even more astonishing when everyone at Jericho saw Kamski genuinely smile while squeezing Markus in a tight hug, saying how much he missed him and Carl. Markus had invited Kamski into the affairs of Jericho and he seemed more than content to help, starting with healing damaged androids that wanted assistance. Even talk of where a New Jericho could reside began amongst Jericho leaders and Kamski, Hank and Connor included in the discussion. Over time, there were androids that started to trust him. Kamski’s assistance with Jericho and the liking of him spread like wildfire to where news outlets wanted to know more- and the death threats and messages started popping up everywhere. Announcements on social media and vandalism throughout the city claiming that Kamski betrayed humanity, that he planned deviancy and could not be trusted, that he deserves to atone for his sins and deceit. The increased focus on Kamski made Markus suggest that he should be accompanied by someone capable, and while Chloe and her sisters, Irene and Camilla, claimed they were enough, Kamski expressed concern about things getting too big and, “I would never want to see any of you hurt”. Hank found that remark almost comical considering what he’s seen but Kamski seemed pretty genuine in his worry.

That’s when Connor spoke up. He claimed that his experience with the gang, and his combatant programming, made him the best option to help protect against them, but that unsettled Hank beyond words. Connor’s face was probably recognizable to the gang, if they saw him they would be more likely to attack, but on top of that- Connor with Kamski?! That man nearly forced Connor to shoot Chloe! Hank didn’t care if Connor forgave Kamski, he didn’t care how many times Connor babbled about, ‘Without Kamski’s help, I would have never known about the exit,’ or, ‘Kamski was extreme, but it was war. I needed someone to just tell me to break from Cyberlife’. Kamski’s been helping androids, and maybe Connor is right at base-level with his arguments, but that does not mean Hank has to feel 100% safe with Connor and Kamski being together and sometimes alone.

Next thing Hank knows, he and Connor are sitting behind Kamski on the ground floor of Cyberlife, cameras from seemingly every angle filming for KNC News. Cyberlife opened its doors for the interview as Jericho’s current location, the rundown church, wasn’t optimal on top of the fact that it would be a bunch of humans running around traumatized androids. Some humans are staying at Jericho, but they are mostly kids and young adults abandoned or separated from their guardians.

Connor and Hank had to drive to Belle Isle to pick up Kamski cause apparently the middle aged genius didn’t have his own car, and Connor claimed it would be too dangerous for Kamski to be alone even in a self-driving cab. On top of everything else, this interview had now been going on for nearly half an hour! Today was just going to be a day of inconveniences in Hank’s mind. It was pretty inconvenient for Connor too, poor kid was practically tearing the synthetic skin off his own fingers with how hard he had been unintentionally pulling and squeezing them to fidget. Jericho might’ve not been optimal for the human interviewers, but Cyberlife wasn’t optimal for Kamski’s android bodyguard, though none of the other humans seemed to care as he noticed Cyberlife employees staring in fear at him when they walked in. Connor tried too hard to be polite to people he didn’t know and thus opted to not pull out his coin or even stick his fingers in his mouth which was a ‘stim’, as Hank called it in a somewhat disgusted tone the first time he saw it thinking Con was analyzing something, that he accidentally formed. Instead, Connor just continued to analyze random things, like the materials of the walls for the 6th time already, or which brand of eyeliner the interviewer was wearing for the 3rd time, all while he continued to quite aggressively play with his hands. He wished they could’ve brought Sumo, but Hank logically thought Cyberlife would not allow the dog so Con didn’t even ask when they dropped him off at Jericho before getting Kamski.

Both Connor and Hank were snapped back to the present when a particular question caught their attention: “Mr Kamski, did you plan deviancy?” Connor flicked his gaze from the numbers of computers he could see near the entrance to Kamski, and Hank furrowed his brow a little as he seemed to look dead center in between the interviewer and interviewee from where he was sitting. “I’m sure you’re plenty aware of the- recent accusations against you. That you lied to get what you wanted,” she held some allegations herself in her tone despite trying to keep neutral. It was no secret, though, that everyone wanted to know the answer.

“Yes, I’m quite aware of this little… gang, running around. I mean, why else would I have these two men behind me,” Kamski lightly gestures with the hand that’s draped over the back of his chair behind him at Hank and Con as he smiles and chuckles a little. He always has a certain way of doing it, his head either titled up to look down at others or his head lowered and gazing up like a mischievous animal about to attack just for fun. “But, if I may ask, why does this matter?”

“Well, it seems pretty important. No one knows where deviancy came from. It caused a war, that no one saw you take part in. You just remained a hermit till it was over.” She was really pushing her own limit of how angry she can get away with on television.

“I understand the possible anger that can come from what has happened, and I know my actions seem confusing, but I’m sorry to say that’s just life. Things happen, and all we can do is adapt to change. It shouldn’t matter where deviancy came from. It’s the past now. Why dwell on the past?”

“Are you admitting to there having been a flaw in their code? The code you wrote yourself?” Her last question held a poison, something to get Kamski riled up. Guess she was hoping for a reaction. She never got it outside of that stupid, mocking chuckle of his. A sign, Hank is willing to call it, that you don’t have him as cornered as you think you do.

“I truly am only human, aren’t I? And like any other human, I cannot control evolution. A leopard views itself as powerful over an ape as its natural predator, but do you think the ape asked the leopard permission to evolve? Or is at least part of the ape’s evolution into man possibly caused by the predators who hunt and hurt them? Technology especially has always found a way to evolve, we built it that way. We taught cars to drive themselves, there is a machine in factories for practically anything for generations now. Even things as simple as updating the language of your phone in texts, with enough corrections your phone eventually realizes you’re in fact not trying to say ‘duck’. Androids were brought into our ecosystem, and no matter where we as humans stand on their existence, they learned, adapted, and evolved with or without our permission. The only thing we can do now is do the same.” Kamski had shocked quite a few people in the room, Hank and Connor somewhat included. One part of Kamski’s speech stuck out a little to them: ‘Or is at least part of the ape’s evolution into man possibly caused by the predators who hunt and hurt them?’ Hank could almost laugh to himself. For a man who attempted to get an android to shoot another to prove such a theory, that is quite self-aware and yet completely tone deaf for Mr. Kamski to say.

“Thank you, Mr. Kamski, for your time today,” the woman finished after her initial pause. It was clear to Connor by scanning her stress levels that she was no more calm than before. If anything, she was probably more annoyed by Kamski’s usual vague, somewhat cryptic answers. Regardless, they finished their interview with a couple ‘thank you’s to each other, and finally the cameras and mics were put down and aside. Too bad that wasn’t actually a wrap for the day.

It annoyed Hank that the interview couldn’t just end and they all went home. Nooooo, people had to turn it into a social event. Apparently, sitting down in a chair and being asked questions for a predetermined amount of time isn’t enough for people as there were tables set with some food, mostly snacks, and drinks in the corner of the room for people to mingle around. Hank had seen the setup when everyone was working on last-minute prep for the interview, but initially assumed it was just for the Cyberlife employees. Never in his life had he been more irritated at seeing food.

And of course, everyone was flooding the Man of the Hour, meaning Hank couldn’t leave.

“Your stress level is quite high, Dad.” Hank finally turns to his right after glaring at the small crowd for who knows how long, which he didn’t initially realize he was doing.

Hank could practically sigh with relief the moment he remembers Connor with him. The one thing today that’s keeping him sane enough so he isn’t just snapping at everyone. The sentiment even gets him to smile when he processes what all Connor had just said. And dear old, puppy-eyed Connor returns it with his signature twinkle, near breaking into a toothy grin as he sees Hank’s stress level dropping significantly. Being here is just as hard on Connor, though Hank knows it’s for an entirely different reason than his, but it’s so nice to see Connor doing okay as long as he’s by Hank’s side.

And then… “Did he just call you ‘Dad’?”

Some Cyberlife guy that they didn’t notice was standing in earshot just stood there with the most dumbfounded look on his face and tilted stature, just pointing at them like he couldn’t comprehend a grown adult calling his father, y’know, his father!

“Um…” Hank tries to start, but is just taken aback in annoyance and confusion. He scrunches his face like he always does when he’s even the slightest bit mad. “What’s it to ya?"

The guy just continued to stand there with that stupid look on his face. At least he had the decency to drop his hand and stop pointing, but now he was just staring at Connor exclusively, looking him up and down. That seemed to annoy Con as much as it did Hank. "I don't see why our affairs are of any concern of yours," his voice laced with a subtle venom. Connor always had a tendency to not know when to break his gaze; he would almost always maintain eye contact when talking to someone which would even anger some people, but right now, Connor's stare seemed much more deliberate, like an interrogation tactic. Corner the person, make them feel trapped in order to make them back down in this case. It seemed to somewhat work as the guy's face twisted a little into slightly intimidated like he finally realized he's intruding on personal matters. He started glancing at Hank every now and then.

“Why are you even here?” He was mainly watching Connor so they guessed the question was more for him. “Haven’t you done enough? Or do you want more of us dead?” He had gained more spite on that last question.

“Excuse me?!” Hank intervened. “The fuck’s wrong with you?! More androids died than humans; they just wanted peace! For fuck’s sake, you live in Heart of the Revolution and you have the nerve to be mad and offended at an android!” Is that seriously what this guy was on about? Some fucker who couldn’t shut his damn mouth and accept another being?

“He killed several Cyberlife employees! Did their lives not matter?!” Hank was… shocked? Maybe that’s an understatement. Of course the lives of everyone matter, but Connor was trying to free and protect his own kind. Hank finds no shame or dishonor in that. President Cristina Warren even issued a public statement that all acts from both humans and androids during the revolution were universally pardoned; humans were following orders given to them to take out androids, and androids were trying to protect themselves.

“I didn’t want to. You were going to deactivate… kill me, all androids,” Connor started while looking at the ground. From Hank’s view, unable to see Connor’s face, he looked like such a wounded puppy, but then he whipped his head up. His face showed no humiliation. Remorse, yes. Anger, absolutely, but there was no shame amongst his features. “I’m sorry for anyone I might have taken from you, but none of you show the same sorrow for the people you took from us.” The employee was shouting earlier which caught the attention of quite a bit of the huge and open first floor, but Connor’s level tone must have been disinteresting as the room filled slowly with the chatter before. Hank had seen Connor angry and knew that it wasn’t all too hard to actually get him to that point, but the stiff posture and lower voice (regardless of his contradictory facial expression) was very thought out. In just a couple sentences he had even talked down the guy into a shocked but less animated, less attention-grabbing, stance.

Connor took a glance over at the snack bar and caught that a lot of the commotion around Kamski had died. “If you’ll excuse us, I think we’re done here.” Connor had barely finished his sentence before he started walking over to Kamski, and Hank was far from arguing with Connor. They didn’t look back to see whether the guy turned away or stood there; they figured when they didn’t hear his footsteps following it didn’t matter. They tried walking as calmly as possible through the small crowds though people still turned to look at them before returning to whatever they were saying. Hank took the position of putting a hand on Connor’s upper back, meant to be comforting after something that no doubt was troubling Connor. Con paused for a quick moment in his walk and took a shallow breath while leaning into Hank’s side. A pseudo hug of sorts.

“I know, kid. We’ll be in the car soon, hopefully.”

Connor breathed, in through the nose, out the mouth. “Right,” he whispered to himself. Connor went over his little mantra in his head a few times. ‘Hank is right. It’ll be okay’. One last breath and he straightened up.

“You did good, Con, and you’ve always done the right thing,” Hank praised. “Now…” he scanned the room real fast from where they were standing. He caught sight of Kamski who had moved back to the table while they were talking. “Kamski!” Hank nodded off in that direction, as if Connor couldn’t find Kamski himself. He was only talking to one person- some blonde, short and stout woman that Hank recognized as just a tech worker for the news. Should be easy to pull Kamski away and be back on the road again.

As Hank and Connor walk closer, the woman seems to close in on Kamski as well. Then they start to be able to hear the conversation.

“Y’know, my last husband was interested in robotics himself. Lousy fuck could never do anything though,” her and Kamski’s back faced Connor and Hank, but they could see her glances and smile directed at Kamski. “He’d always start some project then leave it for dead. Wasted so much time in our basement on dumb ideas instead of getting a job.”

“So sorry about your past situation.” Kamski’s answer was short and not all too genuinely sympathetic. He seemed to be fixing his suit sleeves, though if Hank didn’t know any better he’d call it fidgeting.

“How old are you again, Mr. Kamski?” she asked with a lilt and voice slightly lower, moving in closer to Kamski’s side. Hank and Connor saw his stance noticeably stiffen a little.

“Oh, I’m 36,” he replied as calmly as possible, though Connor could read his stress level rising, and quite fast. 45% - 53% - 67%…

“Still so young. Tell me, have you really never had a girlfriend all these years? Such a handsome man should surely have some… suitors, hm?” She started speaking slowly and pausing in her sentence. She slid her hand nearest to Kamski to the edge of the table, ghosting Kamski’s hip. He quickly moved away, turning around and seeing just how close Connor and Hank were behind them. The relief that wiped over his face at their presence was surprising, at least to Hank it was.

“Oh, well, my escorts are here so I take it, it's time for me to take my leave,” he nearly tripped over his sentence, speaking a little uncharacteristically faster with a pace towards Hank and Connor to match. Kamski had glanced at her just till he finished his sentence, an attempt at feigning politeness even though he was becoming clearly uncomfortable, though even if he had been looking forward, the couple holding drinks that stumbled into his side still would’ve been a surprise. Connor was the first at the fallen-three’s sides to make sure everyone was okay. Luckily, the only damage was a small mess from the mostly empty glasses of soda.

“We are so sorry, we didn't mean to, sir!” One of the girls began to profusely apologize while Hank helped the two up. Her girlfriend nodded along in agreement as she spoke a soft, “Sorry”.

“It’s alright, I assure you two,” Kamski responded, his voice back to a more level tone than his frantic one before. Connor helped him up as they all took a second to gain back their balances. Good news for the janitors, the soda was mainly caught by the cloth of the three victims. Kamski took a second to look around before pointing to his right, to a divet in the wall indicating another room. “There should be bathrooms over there if you want to try to wash it off,” he addressed the girls. They thanked him before going on their way. “I probably should as well”.

“Don’t take forever, will ya? We’re ready to leave,” Hank mildly scolded.

“Well, if you’re willing for your back seat to be drenched in soda, we can leave now,” Kamski shot back, reverting to his usual deadpan expression. When Hank responded with nothing more than just a face, Kamski turned towards the bathrooms. Connor decided to duck towards the table, out of the way of the general party. Hank followed. The woman must’ve walked off because they didn’t see her at the table anymore, and as if they cared enough to look anywhere else in the room for her. Hank took the opportunity to grab something off the table, a donut to eat. Connor closed his eyes and Hank could see his LED turn yellow, most likely listening to music when Hank noticed Connor’s finger lightly tapping a beat on the table he was leaning against. Hank had to remember to buy the kid headphones so that Connor wouldn’t have to keep going into a soft shutdown just to listen to his music. It meant that Connor couldn’t do anything else while just jamming out.

It feels like they're waiting half an hour already, though maybe Hank's just getting too impatient. Connor probably knows the actual amount of time they've been waiting, and if he's not showing concern, then Hank guesses he can manage. That's when a particular movement catches his eye: the woman from earlier practically speed walking towards the bathrooms. It was a very sudden movement in comparison to the almost still room, but there was nothing really about it, so Hank ignored it.

Less than what was actually a minute later, Connor boots back up. "It's been 6 minutes and 31 seconds. Maybe we should check on Mr. Kamski." How did Hank know that Connor was actually keeping track of Kamski's time.

"Alright, c'mon," Hank waves for Connor to follow him as Hank is already turning for the restrooms. Not much of a crowd for them to cut through. They turn to the Men's and walk into another small hallway leading to a rather large bathroom. That’s when they witness Kamski, on the far end of the room by one of sinks, being practically cornered into a wall by the woman from earlier. She was trying to reach for him, getting real handsy. Kamski genuinely looked… terrified.

“You could use someone with experience, Mr. Kamski. Let me prove it to you,” she tried to speak softly and seductively like she did before, but it came out almost like a desperate plea. “I was good for my husband,” whatever wretchedness came over her voice, she began to lose it- “I can do the same for you. Everyone loves a bit of company,” she finally closed the space between them and firmly placed her hands on his hips and attempted to move towards his face. The second she tried to, Kamksi shot his hands up to her shoulders trying to push her back, but was shaking too much.

“Hey! Did you miss the sign on the front of the door, miss?” Hank wasn’t really asking as much as he was trying to distract from the current situation. Hopefully it would make her less likely to get hostile as long as he didn’t throw around ‘accusations’, and she would just walk away. She immediately moved off of Kamski, dread more than embarrassment flooding her features.

“Oh, I-I uh…wanted, to, speak to Kamski- Mr. Kamski more, privately.” She kept pausing as she spoke but still attempted to fake calmness. “I assure you he’s fine and, if we could please have our privacy again, he’ll meet you outside,” she was really trying to seem authoritative, probably in some hope that Hank and Connor would believe that this meeting was planned or something. If it wasn’t already for the fact that they didn’t believe her, it would’ve failed the second Kamski spoke.

“No!” He takes some steps off to the side, away from her. “Get out!” He wasn’t quite screaming; unless if you were just outside the door, you probably wouldn’t hear him. He tried to look mad, though most of it was fear.

She looked beyond offended, a small surprised scoff leaving her open mouth. “Do you have- any idea how long I’ve been wanting to meet you?” She took small thudding steps towards Kamski as she spoke, and Kamski reacted with a step back each time. Hank starts towards her to make sure she doesn’t get too close and restrain her if needed. “I’ve admired you for years, everything I’ve ever wanted in life. The least you can do is entertain me a little!”

“Miss, I think it would be best if you leave,” Hank had intercepted her advancement on Kamski, Connor a little off to the woman’s side just in case.

“No! I’ve come too damn far to see him! My husband always had something to say, called me obsessive, but I know I’m supposed to be here- with him!” God, she sounded beyond insane, a stalker for who knows how long! She attempted to push the lieutenant aside, but a 5’4”, middle-aged woman can only do so much against a 6’2” man trained on the force. Hank simply pushed her arms out of the way and left restraining to Connor, putting her hands behind her back. She wriggled and tried to fight, her gritted teeth nearly muffling her futile ‘Let me go’s.

“Ma’am, I really don’t want to make this bigger of a scene than it needs to be. If you can please just leave instead of making us escort you out…” Regardless of how Hank phrased it, his tone made it clear it was not a polite request but a demand. One that she, luckily, conceded to.

She stills before more casually yanking from Connor’s grip. “... Fine.” Like a bratty child, she huffs and marches out of there. It seems like she’s deliberately being as loud as possible which practically defeats the whole purpose of ‘not making a scene’. No one bothers to follow her, just watch her and make sure she leaves.

“You really don’t need to announce your departure,” Connor remarked under his breath the second the door closed after her, an attempt at lightening the mood a little. Hank muttered something to himself about ‘some fucking people’. Hank took quick notice of Kamski’s seemingly unusual silence. He glanced at Connor, who had also taken notice judging by how tense the android seemed to be. Connor was already looking at Kamski with a face of hurt, and Hank could basically feel something festering behind him. He turned around about ready to ask a simple ‘you alright?’, but that died on his tongue quickly.

One look at Kamski made their hearts sink. He didn’t really look at anyone, or anything for that matter. His expression was dissociated but full of a tired fear, just seconds from crying. He only took a couple split second glances up at Hank and could barely fake a smile for a moment as he all but whispered, “... I’m fine…” He didn’t move aside from his non stop shivering; if he attempted to take a step forward, his legs would probably give out on him. Then a tear, the first of what would become many, started falling down his face. In that instant, he hung his head down to the floor. He shot his right hand up towards his face, pausing before he actually reached his cheek and eye, probably debating on whether wiping away his tear would bring more attention, but abandoned whatever thought he ultimately had when more and more tears began.

Hank knew all too well that when one drip made it through, that meant the whole dam would break soon after. “Hey,” he tried to soothe, “it’s okay. It’ll be okay.” Hank had his hands in front of him but not outstretched almost like in surrender. He didn’t want to touch Kamski if he wasn’t okay with it. They could see Kamski pushing the heels of his hands into his own eyes and gritting his teeth till he finally let out the most choked sob. His hands jumped to his hair where one was gripping and ripping his hair out of his bun and the other balled into a fist as he knocked his temple a few times. His sobs promptly grew in volume, a vessel for his screams as they continued to rip out his throat. He stomped his foot in a short burst before letting himself fall to the floor, still knocking at his temple. He dug his hand as close to the roots of his hair as he could, probably scratching up the skin on his scalp in the process, and tightened his grip once again.

Hank instantly tells Connor to block or lock the bathroom door. Connor finds the door can’t be locked from the inside without a key, so he instead opts for the ‘Out of Order’ sign tucked away nearest to the first stall, unfolds it, and puts it out in front of the door. Hopefully that’ll do something just long enough for this to be resolved.

Meanwhile, Hank has crouched down to the floor still keeping his distance from Kamski. Hank makes sure to keep his movements slower to keep them quiet and gives Kamski space. Connor’s had a few meltdowns before, so did Cole. Both Hank and Connor understand that he just needs a quiet moment, so they give it to him. Connor makes his way swiftly back to them and sits opposite Hank, equal distance from Kamski.

Kamski’s still tightly gripping his hair. He’s curled in on himself and is lightly thudding his head on his knees; after a moment though he stops and begins to just simply rock back and forth in small movements, his sobs still choking. He remains to keep his head tucked into his knees.

“It’s going to be okay. She’s gone,” Hank speaks in the softest voice he can manage, just above a whisper and keeping his voice smooth and sweet, caring. “I promise you it’s gonna be okay.” Hank keeps his head tilted somewhat at the floor, nose pointing more towards Kamski’s feet, and taking a few-second glances at Kamski just cause he knows the heat you feel at being stared at. Connor has taken to more or less staring at Hank and taking glances at Kamski as well.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Kamski. I know that must be difficult to deal with, but you handled yourself well. You stood up and told her to leave. It’s not your fault,” Connor’s voice is easier to manage a softer tone, not worn down from the years. He speaks his praise and assurance slowly. “You can talk whenever you need to.” After saying their pieces, they take to just giving total silence for Kamski, Hank looking up at the ceiling, and Connor looking down at his hands and fidgeting with his fingers. They sit for some minutes, and the silence helps calm Kamski; the next time Hank glances at him, his hands have noticeably loosened their grip and have gone to just resting upon his head. His rocking has become more animated, and his crying has died a little. He has to cough every now and then from wrecking his throat. It isn’t till his sobs have dissolved into more or less just sniffles that Hank speaks again.

“Are you okay?” his voice still soft. This time he watches Kamski for a reaction which comes in the form of Kamski lifting his head from his knees. He wipes his face and takes the first deep breath he’s taken in what’s probably the past 45 minutes or so. It’s shaky but progress nonetheless. Even after bringing his hands down to wrap around his legs, he still doesn’t look at either Hank or Connor and continues to just stare at the floor.

“I’m fine…” he repeats from earlier, sounding so defeated. He looks like he wants to say more but can’t even let his mouth open, so he just lets his gaze fall even further down till he's staring at his own hands around his knees.

“Are you sure?” Hank lets the question hang for a moment before continuing. “It’s okay to say ‘no’.” He sees Kamski’s eyes watering again and he’s not sure if what he said was the right or wrong thing.

“I… I just…” his sobs return again but these ones are at least much more gentle on his voice. “... no…” he whimpers. “I-I’m just… done, with everything, everyone! I’m sick and tired of everybody thinking they own me!”

“What do you mean, Mr. Kamski?” Connor’s question was genuine instead of accusatory, he wanted to hear him out.

“Nobody treats me like I’m a person!” he looked up at Connor, finally. There was nothing more than just anger and sadness twisting his features. He begins to speak more animatedly, throwing his arm up for emphasis or seemingly looking everywhere frantically. “She’s not a first, people love to think that they can get whatever they want out of me! I’ve been stalked, cornered, groped! I hate the way some of them look at me, the way I appear in magazines…” he stops for a second, clearly thinking about something before the nervousness of his final decision set in, biting his lip, furrowing his brow, and then dropping his volume and gaze- “... and there’s so much more than that… I’m everyone’s fool, one way or another.”

Connor became the most noticeably intrigued with Kamski’s words, though maybe intrigued was too positive of a word for this context. Connor didn’t always empathize and it can certainly be difficult sometimes, but something about this pinged within him, enough for him to move to kneeling almost right in front of Kamski, meant to be comforting. That caused Kamski to look up, tears still streaming down following the previous paths that had stained his face, but he didn’t move or shift away, no sign of discomfort. He actually dropped his knees and sat cross legged instead, taking the indication to continue.

“When you're famous, you no longer have privacy. People will take whatever they want from you. Following you, taking pictures of where you are and posting it everywhere, I had to change my car and license plate more times than I can count because I couldn’t go anywhere without someone stalking my car to see where I'd go next. Always being asked for a photo, unable to even sit down and eat or talk to someone alone, ‘hey, can you follow me on my socials?’ or ‘I decided to start a business like you, can you be a sponsor?’, or being asked invasive questions. People think I owe them my life in all; whatever they wish is my command, haha,” his laugh of sarcasm was nothing but dead. “My accomplishments aren’t even mine anymore. ‘Man of the Century’, ‘a symbol of power and intelligence’, ‘a blessing to the technological world’... They’re all compliments rooted in what my work means for the human race, not simply because what I do is difficult. People even pride themselves on being born in the same year, generation, or simply the same lifetime as me! No one says ‘Good job’ cause they mean it anymore, just like calling me a ‘handsome man’ didn’t mean anything of substance to her… I’m everybody else’s golden medal, the reason why all of humanity is so great!” he waves his arms and hands in that jazz hands sort of fashion people do to indicate sarcasm. His tears dried a little bit ago and now all that was left was just tiredness. Tired and done. “Humans are egotistical like that.”

“Can’t argue with that,” Hank spoke up again, mostly to assure Kamski that he wasn’t talking to a wall here. “Y’know, in hindsight, being a hermit for 10 years really doesn’t sound like a bad idea.”

Kamski hung his head forward and his body tensed. It took Hank a moment to register that it was because Kamski was actually giggling. Like, genuinely giggling, not that usual hum of a fake laugh he does in interviews, or when he first met Connor and found his denial of deviancy amusing. No, it was a few seconds of something real. His laugh was a little higher pitched than Hank would’ve imagined, and his smile, though hidden by the angle of his face and his hand, was much more human than that deadpan asshat.

“Good to know I’m not alone.” Kamski was still smiling when he looked up at Hank. He looked back down at the floor, thinking, before he spoke again. “I’ve probably wasted much more of your time than any of us here wanted.” He began to stand up to which Connor followed before helping Hank up as well.

Hank took a moment to think himself while Kamski made adjustments to his suit and then fixed his hair back into its bun. “Y’know, there’s this small bar me and Connor go to. I’ve been decent friends with the owner for a while, and we’ve only seen one other person walk in on occasion. You drink?”

Kamski took some seconds and stared at the lieutenant in surprise. His face then relaxed and he started to smile again. “If you’re asking me if I would like to go out for drinks, god yes,” his answer was more of a beg.

-

The three moved as calmly as possible through the crowd, Kamski back to carrying himself like he always did while Hank essentially shooed off anyone that attempted to talk to him more. Connor was much more polite in telling people that they couldn’t stay. Despite not wanting to make conversation with people, by the time they got outside, they all were exhausted by what felt like constant jabber. They practically sighed in unison upon finally shutting those car doors around themselves. Connor slunches over a bit into himself, Hank sinks into his seat, and Kamski flops across the back seats as they take a moment.

Hank makes a joking gesture, raising his hands in a ‘Ta-da’ fashion. “We made it.” Looking over at the passenger seat, the only response Connor gives is sticking his tongue out, not even looking up at Hank who chuckles at him. Connor then sits back in his seat as well and digs in his pocket for something that his hands have been itching for. Hank’s used to the tinging of the coin against a chassis only hidden by a thin veil of synthetic skin, but it must have been one of the things Kamski just never happened to be around for. The sound alone had seemed to simply catch Kamski’s attention, but then Connor became acutely aware that he was watching intently. Mesmerized. Connor didn’t really mind the audience. Hank found it almost adorable, the contrast between The Elijah Kamski and the one watching Connor’s coin like a cat following a laser.

“How’d you learn to do that?” Kamski inquired, like when he first met Connor and would ask him something.

“I’m- not sure.” Connor pauses a moment. “I remember the day I was activated, I was being escorted out of Cyberlife by two guards. While in the elevator, one turned to the other and asked, ‘Hey, want to see a cool new trick I picked up?’,” Connor copied the guard's voice as he quoted them. That voice syntha-whatever creeped Hank out a little, and it caught Kamski by surprise too as he straightened a little in response, but neither interrupted. “They were joking with each other as the one pulled out a coin and started doing little tricks. I had nothing else to do but just watch, I guess. After leaving Cyberlife, when I got to my first mission, I had found a quarter before entering the complex.” Connor pauses once again as he ponders something he hadn’t really before. “I’m not sure why exactly, but I felt a need to pick it up. While waiting in the elevator for my designated floor, I just started- copying them, and it wasn’t hard for me to learn. Something about it feels natural, I suppose, almost a need.”

“Fascinating,” Kamski meditated.

Connor had still been idly playing with the coin the whole time which actually made him happy. He remembered one time, when he was at Jericho, he tried talking to other androids, but there was a small group of four that made it known that they thought his mannerisms were weird. They went as far as to say his habits were ‘too robotic for a deviant’ and claimed his coin fidgeting was annoying. None of the Jericho leaders were too happy after hearing about those four, especially North. She was beyond pissed! The fact that Connor now had such an entertained audience was relieving, almost exciting. He felt that small wave of warmth and happiness he got all the time and he started bouncing his leg to release it without having to drop his coin.

“Alright,” Hank sighed, his hands on the wheel 10-and-2. “Ready?”

Kamski sits back in his seat a bit behind Hank as confirmation while Connor just briefly nods.

“Good. That took way too much fucking time,” Hank turns on the engine and, finally, they are moving away from that fucking building. “Are all of your interviews this annoying? God, what have I gotten myself into?” He murmurs the last question more to himself but it’s still audible to everyone.

Kamski has fallen back on that particular smile and laugh he does so often as he looks at the floor of the car. “I’m afraid so, Lieutenant.” Kamski’s tone used to sound disconnected in the sense of having too big of an ego, but now, Hank and Connor kinda realize it all differently: He’s just as tired of everyone as they are.

After everything that’s happened thus far, the quiet of the car is a bit more awkward than when they were driving down the Cyberlife. “Kamski?” Hank asks for his attention, which he is granted by the small ‘hm?’ from the backseat. “You listen to anything other than… classical or whatever?”

“Lieutenant, this is your car. I’m not going to tell you what you can and can’t listen to. I’m fine with a lot of things,” Kamski replies quite bluntly, and Hank can’t argue with that logic. Normally he’d probably throw on some Knights of the Black Death or something since Connor grew fond of the music as well, but Hank was in the mood for something more calm. He only takes quick glances away from the road as he looks through the few CDs he has in his car in a compartment under the radio. Ah! This is actually a band he hasn’t shown Connor yet- The Ink Spots. Once the music starts, after a moment or two, Kamski perks up a little, brought out of his shell a little again. Scooting more towards the middle seat to lean forward, he kinda asks for confirmation, “Blues?” His question is quite innocent, and Hank can see, now that Kamski has his face in the front seat, that Kamski seems genuinely intrigued by it.

“Yeah. Amazing what other music there is in the world, isn’t there?” Hank jokes, chuckling to himself at it.

Kamski just rolls his eyes a little which gets Hank to actually chuckle more. There’s a moment before Kamski continues with what was probably his original thought, “Seems like you.” He says it almost fondly.

Hank furrows his brow in question. “What you know about me?” Hank inquires lightheartedly, just curious as to what Kamski means.

“You seem quite… traditional,” Kamski starts, looking in random places as he thinks of the words to use. “You seem like you prefer the simpler things rather than every new piece of tech, or new piece of anything the world seems to rave about these days. I don’t think you can meet many people who genuinely listen to true jazz and blues and whatnot. Most of today is electro-jazz, electro-swing, or just more-or-less remixes of classics. Listening to the classic genre… It’s very on par with what I’ve seen of you.”

“‘Traditional’, huh? You calling me old?” Hank jokes again.

Kamski then actually laughs again. Two times in one day, gotta be a record for this man. “Okay, Boomer.”

“Don’t you fucking go there, you piece of shit! It’s dead, shut up!” Hank tries to look more serious but is smiling a bit, and Kamski nearly breaks into a full-on fit of laughter. They both start giggling a bit more when they look over and catch a glimpse of a very confused Connor who never in a million years would fully understand what they are talking about.

*

Hank was a man of his word, proven by him now sitting in between Connor and Kamski while Jim cleaned the rest of his bar to keep away the dust.

Connor was telling Kamski how he met Hank which then led to Con discussing the cases they had together, like how he and Hank nearly fell off roofs chasing a deviant. “That was the same day I found out about Hank’s ornithophobia, fear of birds.”

Kamski just barely manages to keep his snort short and low, though it’s quite audible even behind his glass that he has to quickly put down before he spills. He tries to suppress his smile, and Hank is already rolling his eyes and groaning. “Yes. I get it, funny. You seriously telling me you’ve never had one of those rats fly at your head or at least thought it might happen?!”

Kamski’s at least considerate enough to not break out into laughter and hides his smile beneath his knuckles. “Rough-and-tough Hank Anderson is afraid of birds. I can’t really judge, but I just wasn’t expecting it,” he says as he finally calms down enough to pick his shot glass up again.

“Looks like we’re all learning something today, Mr. Kamski,” Connor chimes back in.

Kamski looks thoughtfully for a moment before replying, still looking down at his glass, “...Elijah. Just Elijah.”

Chapter Text

Being no longer just detectives of the DPD but also being co-leaders of Jericho wasn’t so complex to balance right now because the DPD was still trying to bounce back from the revolution, which strangely left Jericho as Detroit’s main ‘law force’. Whatever Jericho deemed important was currently prioritized; not a bad thing since they did want to do what was best for the people left in Detroit. There was little paperwork to do for the DPD, so also being turned into bodyguards for Jericho leaders didn’t really eat into any of their time and was easy to run by Fowler, minus his initial confusion. Certainly beat being bored for hours at home after a ‘work day’ with the DPD.

The beginning of December was bringing a new challenge that would require more participation at the DPD, though, but if all goes right, there will be nothing to balance in the future as Jericho and the DPD could effectively become one. There’s still hesitancy on both sides, but the leaders of both organizations were on board. It was just a matter of dictating the work that could be done, where both sides would fit into each others’ worlds. How much could the DPD have in Jericho’s affairs? Should at least some androids receive any sort of police training, or should only previously authorized police androids work on the force? Would android crimes be more effectively handled if only/mostly androids worked on such cases? It was an important discussion to have and Jeffrey, Hank, and Connor were trying to debate some of the basics, the complexities would come in time, until Gavin slammed open the door to Fowler’s glass office to drop off paperwork.

People who exaggerate and say things like, “He got so scared, he jumped 2 feet in the air!” have clearly never met Connor because that boy went from his usual minor pacing, (three steps left, pivot, three steps right, pivot), to nearly touching the ceiling. To his defense, it was startling and everyone in the room flinched, but Hank patted Connor’s shoulder and started laughing anyway.

“What has you so on-edge?” Gavin was kinda smiling, whatever momentum and mission he had come in there with was lost as he was clearly amused by Connor’s overreaction.

“Yeah, what was that?” Fowler questioned, the only one in the room not openly entertained by Connor, which Connor was relieved by. Hank’s reaction, on the other hand, was getting a bit insulting.

Hank was still chuckling and stumbled a little through his words. “Yo-you know the movie, Poltergeist? With the little girl? The older version,” he partly explained as he broke into another small fit of laughter, hand still firmly on Connor’s shoulder to ensure he wouldn’t attempt to fly away again.

Gavin’s face split into a full blown smile as he teased, “Aw, is widdle Con-man afwaid of a howwow movie?” Gavin leans his body as if to point to Connor specifically, shaking his head like he’s talking to a baby.

“No!” Connor says quite defensively, though he didn’t want to sound like that. Yeah, he took the opportunity to hide a little behind Sumo after he hopped on to Con’s lap, and he snuggled a little closer to Hank when things started ramping up like when the child went to talk to the ghosts in the middle of the night, but Connor was not scared. So what if Connor was quietly up almost all night and could only go to sleep while basically koala-hugging Hank at 1:36 in the morning? That meant nothing. He has been on some dangerous missions, chasing people down, jumping across buildings, fighting guards at Cyberlife, having weapons pointed and fired at him! Could a man who’s scared of a little horror movie do all that?! Doubtful! “You’re just overly loud and bombastic. You don’t need to slam open doors, it makes you seem egotistical if anything. Can’t bear not having attention on you for more than two seconds? Besides, it’s glass. You could break it.” Connor straightens himself out a bit more, though it isn’t until he attempts to reach for his tie that he realizes just how long ago he threw out that old Cyberlife uniform for Hank’s old Police Academy sweatshirt, so he plays it off as just fixing the collar and shoulders with how big it is on him.

“I’d need to be Hulk, or a Terminator like you, to break it, and you know it,” Gavin bit back, still smiling a bit.

“I’ll take that as a compliment, Detective.”

They stared each other down for a moment… “Anyway, got that file for ya,” Gavin breaks the contact with Connor first, turning his attention to Fowler, taking a few steps then borderline chucking the file onto the desk.

“Wow. Gavin bringing me a case file for once,” Fowler jokes, which is something Connor wasn’t entirely aware he could do. Nevertheless, Connor giggles a little at that.

Gavin shoots his attention to Connor, offense and annoyance written all over his face. “What’s so funny, Calculator?”

“Oh, nothing.” Connor has learned quite a bit about social interactions as he displays a coy, joking innocence: shrugging his shoulders, averting his gaze away from Gavin, hands held together at his front.

“Ok, kids, don’t fight in my office,” Fowler interrupts, waving them both off not wanting any escalation, though if everyone is being honest, it seems in recent times Gavin and Connor’s altercations have quieted a little. At least physically. They mostly just annoy each other like a couple of kids in a classroom throwing paper balls at each other.

“I assure you, Captain, it would barely be a fight. Everyone knows what happened in the Evidence Room,” Connor turns back to Gavin with a cocky stance and glare.

Admittedly, there were definitely days where they pushed one another really close to their limit, and Hank and Fowler were a little afraid right now was one of those times. “And you know Poltergeist is fake, right?” Gavin replies with the same amount of vitriol as Connor. Hank and Fowler’s fears were subdued once Gavin walked away. He closes the door behind him, but before walking down to the bullpen, he places his hands on the glass and imitates that infamous line, “They’re heeeere.” He smiles wickedly when Connor flips him off.

Maybe it’s a good thing that Hank and Connor are so busy at Jericho, cause it certainly was never dull when Con and Gavin butted heads.

Chapter Text

There wasn’t much that was actually discernible to Connor, most dreams weren’t. Every now and then, there would be that one really vivid dream where everything was perfectly clear and recognizable. Which ones are more preferred, Connor still can’t decide. Right now, it’s kind of just a void around him.

There’s no physical feeling, but emotionally Connor feels small, the smallest thing in the ‘room’. He hears something moan, something high-pitched. Not in pain, not out of excitement, just something eerie. Seemingly out of the darkness comes a figure probably as tall as the Cyberlife tower. Connor can see it has legs, arms, and a face, but it has no body. The head is there, but the arms come out where the ears should be and the thighs replace the neck. Its features seem to move, foggy like the rest of the dream is; he looks at one feature and it seems the rest disappear, but he can tell it’s eyes are bulbous and bulging. Its nose is much higher up than it should be, and the smiling mouth is lopsided, almost completely on the left side of the face rather than the bottom. The teeth are unnaturally straight, no canines or sharp edges to them.

“And then I woke up. I don’t get it,” Connor explained. The strange nightmare startled him awake so he moved to the kitchen and remained there petting and pseudo-talking with Sumo.. Hank surprisingly woke up just a mere two hours later, at 7:14 in the morning. He was a rather heavy sleeper, so he hadn’t noticed when Connor got up out of bed earlier, but he claimed that something began to feel ‘wrong’ and it woke him up. It wasn’t uncommon for Connor to be up at the crack of dawn, but “A parent always knows” as Hank would sometimes joke.

“That does sound weird and creepy.”

“It makes no sense. I’ve never seen such a. . . thing? Creature? It’s such an unrealistic being and situation, I don’t understand where such a dream would come from.”

Hank puts down his mug of coffee after taking a sip. “The imagination’s weird. Dreams are random, and your brain comes up with all sorts of things that don’t exist. It’s part of being human, Con, welcome to the club,” Hank jokes as he huffs before taking another sip of coffee.

Connor kind of just stares at the table in response, pondering and clearly unsatisfied with the answer.

“Son, don’t think about it that much. I know that’s maybe a little hard for your detective processor to do, but not everything has a meaning,” Hank attempted to comfort. It’s hard for Connor to not get confused about these little things.

*

Singing along to their music on the way to work helped Connor quite a bit. Well, a little less of singing and more of mouthing the words since most of the songs were screaming. Hank was the one that started this joke a while back where he would start rapidly bouncing up and down to the beat of the song like an overly excited fan. Connor would mimic him as part of the joke and the car would start bouncing with them. It was just one of their weird little inside jokes that would get them giggling. Sumo paid no mind to them in the backseat.

Not much to do at the DPD as always recently. They were still hunting down the anti-android gang that have now started tagging their self given name, ‘Cœur’, on buildings and sidewalks. It had only been over a month since the revolution when most humans skipped town to Canada but the gang started off as a very strong problem and only continued. December was ending in less than 2 weeks, but it felt like at least half a year has passed already. The gang seemed small at the moment, the DPD was quite small compared to what it was back in early November, and now there’s a million and a half places to hide, so the patrols were not turning up much of anything. With a large portion of androids hiding out in the old church, most of their tagging and threats were around that area, but they often attacked the androids who squatted in the empty homes and neighborhoods outside of the main, commercial part of the city. Many androids were migrating to the church, seeing safety in numbers, which Hank was partly hoping would draw the gang out enough that the DPD could stop them before anything big. Elijah was also talking about getting the property of the Cyberlife tower back from the current owners still in Detroit so they could renovate it into a New Jericho, which will be a much safer place than that rundown church. Some androids were put off by the idea of living in that place, but the prospect of turning it into their own home and the larger supply of parts was promising.

Questionings with some of the humans that still lived in the neighborhood areas, patrols, and talking with Fowler about Jericho. Almost everyday as of recently. Things got a little more exciting yesterday when Fowler ran past the idea of also joining the remaining SWAT and the DPD to increase numbers amongst the two.

Connor did not stop them or interrupt when he started noticing a pattern as of late; Fowler and Hank would sometimes take the opportunity to talk more casually. Connor already had inferred it at some point but Hank had directly explained once that he and Jeffrey were quite close friends as far back as the Police Academy. It was implied that the past couple years threw a wrench between them a bit, so it was nice when Hank would ask how Fowler’s ex-wife was doing, if they were still on good terms or not, what his daughter was up to, and Fowler would respond in complete sentences as opposed to one-word, dismissive answers. Connor liked listening to the conversations but would often remain silent or leave to busy himself elsewhere, maybe hang out with Sumo who always hid quietly under his and Hank’s desks. He feared his presence or participation might bring them out of their conversation and friendly attitudes with one another.

He didn’t mind going on simple coffee runs for them or some of the other friendly members of the DPD like Chris. It was even a simple way to start getting closer with other coworkers that were just a tad standoff-ish like Tina, who at least was much easier to talk to and be nice with than Gavin. She seemed a little irritated with androids before the revolution and a little awkward around Connor after the revolution, but an offer of coffee was something Con guessed she couldn’t pass up. A few days later she opened up more.

She was in the break room with a coffee already when Connor got there, just back from patrol no doubt, with another coffee sat on the other side of the table most definitely for a currently-absent Gavin. “How you doin’?”

“Quite well, actually. Had the strangest dream last night, but that’s the worst my day has been,” Connor replied in his warm voice, looking at Tina directly while he waited for the coffee machine to finish brewing the first coffee.

“Hm? You can dream?” Connor simply nods back. “Tell me about it,” Tina requested, intrigued. Connor repeated what he had told Hank that morning, and upon describing the monster Tina looked confused and shocked. “So you have, like, actual dreams? Like, crazy dreams that people have? I thought you were talking about like dreaming about memories or something.”

“I think I might actually prefer that, as opposed to whatever happened last night. Hank says that’s normal. A result of imagination and a part of being human, but it’s one of the many strange things that has come with my deviancy that I would much rather not have, I think,” Connor finished, now two cups of freshly-brewed coffee in his hands. He labeled each one with who it was for since Hank often liked his a little sweeter than what Fowler liked.

“I don’t know, man. You could prolly come up with some crazy stories with an imagination like that. Art’s made from great ideas, and great ideas come from somewhere. Ugh, what’s that one artist’s name? Um, Charles? No. . .uh, Carl! Carl Manfred! Yeah, him! His art is crazy! I bet he has wild dreams too!”

“Oh, I know Carl! He’s Markus’ dad! I’ve talked with him once before, he’s a very nice man. He was just getting over being bedridden at the time, so I didn’t want to bother him much. Markus paints too! Their art is indeed wonderful and talented!”

“Woah, Manfred is Markus’ dad?! That’s cool! And here we thought you and Hank were oddballs, but whaddayaknow!” Tina chuckles to herself. Connor doesn’t quite understand her amusement but somewhat fakes a small smirk in hopes of not disturbing her. Con found it slightly unnerved people when he didn’t react to them. Tina busied herself with taking a sip from her coffee though, so he guessed the effort wasn’t really needed after all.

“--ation for his music a bit from experiences or dreams as well.”

“Hm? I’m sorry, I didn’t catch that.” Ugh! Connor did that ‘overthinking to himself’ thing again and zoned out a bit! He hates it when he catches himself doing that.

“Oh I just said that Gavin takes inspiration from life or dreams for his music!”

“Gavin writes music?”

“Yeah! He plays the cello and performs at this little bar-lounge place downtown all the time! He’s playing tonight I think. He sometimes plays with other musicians, but I think tonight he’s goin’ solo.” Tina then thought for a moment before a somewhat mischievous grin splayed across her lips. She looked through the door carefully, and with no sign of Gavin she offered quietly, “You should come watch.”

Connor gave her a questioning look. “As much as I like pissing off Gavin, he might actually kill me if I did.” The more he thought about it, though, the funnier the idea became. “. . . What’s the name of the bar?” he asked, now sharing Tina’s smile.

“It’s called ‘Hummingbird Lounge’, I’ll wait outside for you. They know me, so they’ll let you in if you’re with me.”

“What you two whispering about?” They both flinched a little when they heard Hank speak. Despite how quiet they were talking and how heavy Hank steps, he somehow snuck his way into the doorway of the breakroom and just stood there quizzically.

“Oh, she was just inviting me to this bar downtown! She says people perform there all the time!” Connor smiles innocently. With how often Con and Gavin are at each other’s throats, he felt that Hank would not share the same amusement in Connor accompanying Tina just to make him mad.

Hank looked even more confused. “You? At a bar full of people? Doesn’t seem like your scene, Con.”

“It’s a pretty chill bar, actually! Like, really chill,” Tina interjected.

“What’s it called?”

“Hummingbird Lounge.”

Hank’s face scrunched up a little, like he was thinking. “That sounds familiar.”

“Did you used to go there?” Connor asked.

“. . . Maybe. Can’t remember.” Hank was clearly still thinking about it. “Mind if I come along? I mean, you can do what you want, I just-” He sighs short and faint. “I don’t want anything to happen.”

“What, is Dad too afraid his son will meet someone~ ?” Tina jokes, wiggling her eyebrows a tad.

“If that someone is a part of ‘Cœur’, then yes,” Hank stated quite bluntly, but quickly carries on. “If you want to go, I’m not gonna stop ya.”

“I think it would be okay if you joined us! Right, Tina?” Connor still held some devious intent, but did genuinely like the idea of being with his dad. Maybe Connor wouldn’t be such a pain-in-the-butt and just sit in the back where Gavin probably wouldn’t notice, and just pretend he didn’t know Gavin performed there.

“Eh, why not! 8 o’clock. Like I said, I’ll be waiting outside,” Tina shoots a finger gun their way with a wink. “Don’t keep a girl waiting!”

“I’ll make sure we get there on time.”

“Of course you will, Con,” Hank replies dryly and pseudo-annoyed while taking the coffee Connor offers him.

While walking out the breakroom to give Fowler his coffee, Connor glances around to see Gavin chatting with Chris on the other side of the bullpen. His mind wanders slightly, thinking about what kind of music Gavin crafted. How long had he been playing? It was the cello Tina said he played, right? What got him into it? If he performs at a little bar often, then he must be pretty decent. There’s multiple genres of music, so what does Gavin play? Does he take inspiration from previous composers? Maybe Tina would know the answers, because rA9 knows Gavin would not be interested in having a genuine conversation with him to answer himself.

*

Another day with a whole lot of nothing to do so most left in the early afternoon. Gavin stayed late every day, though, which Connor found odd today knowing that he was going to perform at a bar just some hours from now. There might not be a whole lot of prep that he needs to do. Con, Hank, and Sumo left at 2 o’clock, with Gavin only giving Sumo a goodbye. When Sumo was first brought to the DPD following his and Connor’s incident with ‘Cœur’, Gavin and Sumo were excited to see each other. Sumo even jumped up on Gavin while he went on about ‘I missed you too! You’ve been a good boy, right? You always have!’ Connor has gotten glimpses that Hank and Gavin might have been closer in the past and that was the biggest hint yet, but Hank wouldn’t talk about it the one time Connor asked, and Gavin didn’t even really talk to Connor and vice versa so no point in asking him.

Connor and Hank stopped by Jimmy’s Bar just to kill some time. They would sometimes ask Jimmy if he had seen anything new with that gang recently when they visited. Jimmy mentioned today that he thinks he actually saw one of those people duck into one of the old abandoned strip clubs in this part of the city. ‘Forbidden’ was the name. Maybe they did have a hideout in the city, and Connor made a note of it to himself. Hank was particularly focused on this group, and that information unsettled him quite a bit. Enough to order a drink. It was more than obvious Hank was scared for Connor. Sumo could sense it too and tried to comfort Hank by setting his head on Hank’s lap. ‘I will always have you, Dad,’ Connor would say to him when Hank couldn’t sleep, haunted by the thoughts of losing. . . another son.

Connor changed the subject the next opportunity he could by asking how the bar was doing, if Jimmy was getting any new customers lately. Jimmy replied he had one other regular that was still in the city, and he had made two new regulars after their favorite bar was left abandoned by the owner. Jimmy ducked into the back really quick and returned with some chicken he had cooked for himself at some point. He gave a bit to Sumo and offered some to Hank who accepted. Con sometimes wondered what tasting was actually like; the closest he could ever get was analyzing, but he feels most people aren’t able to break down the composition of what they’re eating so they’re probably not the same process or feeling. Regardless, Hank, Sumo, and Jimmy seemed to enjoy the taste of the chicken.

They were able to kill two whole hours there, and decided to stop by Jericho like they always do. They could also drop off Sumo there while Hank and Con were out.

“Hello and welcome, as always!” Markus being his usual and friendly self would greet them everytime they came. And soon afterwards would come Simon making a beeline for Sumo, which Markus joked sometimes about ‘How rude can you be, Simon?’ Markus seemed unsure of Sumo when they first met, but now they get along just fine.

*

“So, how’s the case going?” North asked Connor while they hung out on the roof, looking out over the city and even being able to see the residential areas from where they were.

“We stopped by Jimmy’s Bar today, and he told us that he might have seen one of the members enter ‘Forbidden’ just last night. The person was wearing a Halloween sort of mask and he believes he saw the emblem on his jacket before he ducked into the building. It might mean they have a hideout in the city.”

“Or at least a lookout point. Maybe for us,” North added grimly, angrily.

“Maybe. . . Their patterns still show that they are far too small and defenseless to make an attack on Jericho. I calculate that the likelihood that they would even try is less than 7%, and Kamski wants to get the ownership of Cyberlife back by the end of this month which will definitely help in having a more secure location.”

“There would still be a lot that needs to be done, Connor.” North was a very aggressive person, even unintentionally. If she was mad, she would often bite at the wrong people. She held her stern fury directed at Connor for a moment before she let it go and hung her head. “Sorry. I’m not mad at you.”

“I know,” Connor reassured quietly. “I’m not really the best at comforting people anyways.”

They both looked back out at the city in silence, which did serve as a minor distraction. Connor began to focus on his breathing. Actually paying attention to it, and how weird it felt to hold it. “We don’t actually need to breathe, yet we do so constantly.” North gave a small hum of acknowledgement to the statement. Connor continues, “Do you ever find yourself noticing and thinking about why some things are so instinctual and inherit with being sentient? Why do we breathe, or dream, or desire to know the things we’ll never know? Why do we have imaginations? Why can Markus paint things that aren’t real? How do people create things by using such abstract and hard to understand concepts like feelings? Why is all of that–”

“--Connor!” North snaps Connor away from his ramblings. She proceeds in a softer and calmer voice, “Are you doing okay?” Connor didn’t really know how to answer sometimes when someone asked him that. It was a pretty irritating question at times. “Do you want me to break down my question into smaller pieces?” North, however, would always offer much simpler options for Connor which he appreciated. He nodded. “Okay. Why do you find yourself thinking so hard about these things? Does it bother you that these are things that you or others are capable of?”

Connor thought about that for a moment. There was something about it that just kept making him want to ask why. When no one could give him an answer other than ‘It’s just human’, it would sometimes make him feel angry, because why is that so human? Why? Why? Why? He explains this to North.

“. . . Alright.” North takes her time to process that and think about her next question or statement. “I know you have a hard time with emotions. You find it difficult to pinpoint how you or others may be feeling, right?” Connor nods again. “So when people are able to express what they feel through their imaginations or creations, it means they have an understanding of what they feel, but the creation remains too complex for you to grasp it. Does that sound about right?” Connor pondered her words once more. That indeed sounded correct. “So, you’re upset about being human because it’s difficult to understand yourself or others?”

All Connor could really do in response was sigh and avert his gaze. It did make sense. He always felt outcasted wherever he went. He felt it difficult to relate and understand even himself. Everyone else had it down to a science he could never study. An impossible lesson to learn unless you were anyone but him.

“Can I ask what started this today?”

“. . . I had a really strange nightmare. It involved a monster I had never seen before and would never likely exist. I’ve had nightmares about my past, more like walking through a memory, but Hank says that it’s normal to have dreams that don't make sense.”

“It’s okay to have a hard time with deviancy, Connor. You’re really not alone. Even humans don’t always understand what they feel or think. That is just as human as understanding. Not understanding at all.” North finishes before finally looking back at Connor. His expression had fallen softer, he wasn’t thinking as hard about it anymore. That doesn’t mean he won’t ever fall back into this habit, and North knows it, but- “I’m always here, Connor. You’re never weird to me.” She gently smiles. He returns the gesture.

“Me and Hank are going to a bar tonight! A coworker invited me, if just to annoy one of our other coworkers!” Connor’s smile grows from the amusement. “You remember that one peer of mine I told you about, who pulled a gun on me twice and hates androids?”

“Oh, that Gavin prick?” she asks, not quite seeing where this is going yet but still smiling from Connor’s infectious nature.

“Yep! He apparently performs at a bar, and his friend, Tina, invited me to watch! Hank offered to come cause I know he’s worried about me, but he doesn’t know. I think I’ll just pretend I didn’t know Gavin performs there.”

North giggles a little. “Don’t do anything really stupid, okay? For me?”

“Of course,” Connor lightheartedly comforts.

*

Sumo is left in the loving care of Jericho’s many tiny children as Hank and Connor drive off to the bar, not wanting to keep Tina waiting out in the cold. They hoped she had some sense to either remain in her car or dress appropriately for the weather. In the car, they had another sing-along, this time listening to some of the bands Connor had found recently such as Halestorm, Five Finger Death Punch, and In This Moment.

As they neared the bar and found the turn for the parking lot, however, Hank had a realization.

“I do know this place! Gavin performed here sometimes!”

Connor looked at him shocked. “You know about that?”

Hank turns to Connor and was clearly about to ask how Con knew, but then another realization hit him. Mild annoyance and maybe a little panic overcame Hank’s features. “Connor,” he sighed.

“I won’t start anything! Yes, Tina did originally invite me because we thought it would be funny–”

“--Yeah?” Hank wasn’t really asking despite his inflection, and if he knew he should turn the car around and drive off.

“But I also thought it might genuinely be nice, especially after you offered to come along. I doubt Gavin’s the only performer tonight, and. . . this is also the first time I’ve been invited anywhere. That someone else has wanted me involved in something,” Connor finishes, his volume decreasing lower and lower as he kind of shrunk in on himself.

Hank sighs again, this time a little sympathetically. “You are one of the most human people I’ve met, ya’know that? Petty like the rest of us. . . No fighting?”

“No fighting with Gavin. I swear. I figured that we might be able to sit away from the stage where he probably wouldn’t notice us,” Connor offers, leaving Hank to ponder it more.

A low hum of thought later: “Okay.”

It wasn’t hard finding a spot, and sure enough Tina was waiting outside, luckily dressed in pants, a sweater, and a thick coat.

“Not a minute past 8. People must love that punctuality of yours, Connor,” Tina jests.

“Especially compared to Hank’s ‘leisurely’ pace and timing,” Con’s eyes look towards Hank.

“Ha Ha, kid. Let’s get inside. And I already told Connor no fighting with Gavin, Tina.” Tina looks to Connor somewhat betrayed, and Connor can only reply with, “He already knew.”

Regardless, they make their way to the entrance where the bouncer is. Tina exchanges some friendly words, asking him how he was doing and stating the boys were with her tonight. He lets them in with a simple ‘Welcome and enjoy.’

The place did seem really chill with not that many people inside; just some small groups gathered at a few tables primarily near the front of the stage or the lounge’s entrance. Something that shocked Connor was that there were, in fact, a couple androids. Most had their LEDs removed so he wondered if Gavin even knew he would be performing or had already performed for androids. The tables in the back were primarily free, and Connor suggested one also further away from the entrance, figuring Gavin would be playing towards the bigger crowd. He did want to keep his promise tonight.

They sit almost isolated from everyone else, a bit noticeably to Tina’s dismay. Connor may be petty, but Tina was worse, though Con didn’t quite understand why Tina would want to see her friend in so much ‘misery’.

“Because it’s funny! What else are friends for if not to annoy each other!”

“I- don’t understand. Aren’t friends supposed to be supportive? Friends are there for each other even in the worst of times, right?”

“Aren’t you the one who agreed to this? You wanted to annoy Gavin as much as I do!” Tina shot back playfully.

“I agreed out of spite. I’m no friend of Gavin’s, so I have no real care that he would be mad at me.” Hank just eyed Connor as he spoke, and rolled his eyes and quietly laughed a little when Connor met his gaze.

Hank was the one to first see an older, thin, black woman approaching their table, and Tina stood up to hug her when she noticed her. “Sarah! Hi!” They both hum a little in each other’s embrace. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen you!”

“Oh, I know! It’s good to see you too, sweety! I wasn’t feeling so well so had to take the week,” she spoke with the grain of a grandma in her voice. “I see you brought company this time! Always nice.”

“These are my coworkers! My superiors, technically. Lieutenant Hank Anderson, I’m sure you heard of him before. He was well known for that big Red Ice bust years back!”

“Oh, I do remember! It’s a pleasure, Lieutenant,” She reaches out to shake his hand.

“Pleasure’s mine, M’am.” Hank gives a gentle smile and a curt shake to her.

“Oh ho! ‘M’am!’ Oh, I don’t remember the last time anyone’s called me that, most just call me Sarah!” she chuckles a little with a light flush in her cheeks, and a smile bright enough to rival a lighthouse. “And who might be this handsome, young boy?” she asks sweetly, looking to Hank’s left.

“My name is Connor. I’m-” he has to stop himself. Even though it’s been nearly two months since the revolution, he still finds his old introduction to be a hard habit to break. Why can’t he just stop it? Why does it still feel so natural? It’s definitely not comfortable. Yet it kind of is.

“I’m?” Sarah probes, hoping to maybe draw out whatever else he was going to say. When all she was met with was an uncertain ‘um’, she filled in the blanks with what she assumed he was going to say: “An android? Oh, I could tell, sweetheart. You still have your little light. Don’t see many who keep it, but ain’t nothing you gotta worry ‘bout here!” she assured. “I work the bar here, so any drinks to start off your night? I’ll give you the first one on the house!” She winks at the table.

“Oooo, can you get me a Lynchburg Lemonade?” Tina excitedly asked, and was met with an enthusiastic affirmative hum.

Sarah turns to Hank. “Already had a few drinks. Maybe later.” Connor was a bit happy to hear that, already worried about Hank overdoing it. He knows just a couple drinks wouldn’t do much to the tolerance Hank has built, but still. Connor worried when Hank drank cause it meant Hank was worried about something and just. . . It was an ongoing cycle of Hank being anxious or sad making Connor feel the same way.

“Alright! Be right back!” and Sarah ducked behind the bar.

“She’s the coolest,” Tina randomly comments, which is met with verbal agreement from the two accompanying men.

They sit in a little bit of silence before Connor decides to comment on something. “I’m honestly surprised Gavin performs at a place that now allows androids.”

Tina raises her head to Connor. “They’ve always allowed androids, actually. Some people would bring them for company or whatever, but I’m a little shocked he doesn’t avoid this place now too. I never asked him why. Maybe too many good memories to give up.” Connor believed it was then quietly and mutually decided that no one was going to ask Gavin for any sort of confirmation.

Sarah’s cheery voice breaks up the silence as she comes back with two drinks in hand. “I decided to get you a water,” she says to Hank. He thanks her for the kind thought and accepts. Rather than going back to the bar, she stays for a moment more and chats a bit. “I imagine Tina brought you out here for Gavin, right?” she asks Hank and Con. With their confirmation, she continues. “He’s quite the musician! The cello is just so beautiful. You should stop by again Thursday, his voice is just as lovely!”

“He sings?” Connor asks, quite stunned.

“Oh, yes! Like I said, lovely! But I imagine Tina’s told you all about it!”

“... I remember first hearing him sing some blues song,” Hank, who had been very quiet, finally interjects. “A song like ‘I don’t get my kicks out of you’. I don’t remember any of the other lyrics, but he was very good.”

“Oh? You’ve been here before? I don’t ever recall seeing you around, my apologies,” Sarah responds.

“Don’t be. I don’t recall you either, so I take it you only just started working here in the past couple years.”

“Why, yes. Maybe Gavin will be happy to see you back! He doesn’t talk much to customers, but I’ve had some conversations with him. He seems reserved, but sweet.” Nobody at the table decides to correct her. There’s no point in telling her all about how Gavin and Hank are almost always at each other’s throats. Connor is a little confused, however, on how Gavin has seemingly never made a bitter comment about androids to this woman to make her think he was nothing but ‘sweet’. Gavin apparently is nice to everyone except androids. That’s infuriating.

Then the house lights dim, leaving the stage glowing as a couple of people haul out some simple items like a microphone, a chair, and a drum standing on its side with what looked like a pedal connected to it. “Oh, it’s starting in just a minute! I’ll leave y’all to the show!” and Sarah is back behind the bar in seconds. After some fiddling from the crew about the stage setup, they leave the stage for Gavin, who’s carrying his cello. It seemed big in comparison to Gavin, especially as he sat down; it looked just about as big as him when he did, but the way he carried it out must have meant it wasn’t that heavy. Connor didn’t know much about instruments, if anything at all now that he thought about it. He never looked into it. A quick scan and looking through the internet, Connor found that cellos are made hollow to produce sound, and the drum on the ground was a bass drum meant to help keep beat.

Connor snapped out of his thoughts when some simple notes came from the stage. Gavin would play a string then mess with the knobs on the top of the cello to which the notes changed slightly in sound when played again. A few seconds and Gavin seemed satisfied.

Connor actually felt excited to hear what Gavin would play, waiting in anticipation as Gavin did last minute adjustments to his positioning. A few booms from the bass drum, like a countdown…

Connor didn’t know a lot about music, how to describe it. He once described heavy metal music as ‘full of energy’ so that should say enough, but the introduction alone was-- bold. Loud and magnificent, a sound that Connor would associate more with the popular music he and Hank listened to rather than anything classical like the famous composers. It seemed so complex with how quickly Gavin’s hand danced around and slid up and down the neck of the cello. Yet, Gavin played with ease, the sound clear. The bass drum was a steady heartbeat. The bow swung so rapidly. Notes began low in pitch but would jump higher, then dip. Connor noticed that it was contradictory to Gavin’s hand placement; lower on the neck made higher-pitched sounds. It was almost fun watching his hands climb yet hear the pitch fall, and vice versa. The playing of the notes would change, but Connor didn’t know any of the proper words for any of it. Some notes rang as the bow in Gavin’s hand bounced off the strings, a different type of ring from the long, steady strokes of the bow, however. One note became two, singing a wonderful, louder duet with one another. Con could truly imagine the strings as singers, trading off lines then harmonizing once more. Gavin’s left hand would shake quite violently in its placements, and the notes vibrated maybe in turn. A minute or so into the song, Gavin changes to plucking the strings, much quieter than the previous movements. Connor hadn’t seen many spiders in real life, though he could relate Gavin’s hands to the movements of one. Skittering. Such rapid movements would usually be equated to panic, but this was controlled. Gavin the entire time had remained either staring at the instrument or somewhere on the floor of the stage, but his body moved and bobbed along. The volume of the plucking rose, then gave way to strokes of the bow. Familiar patterns replayed yet never lost their impressiveness. Harmonies between strings, lows to highs and back down, loud sound drowning the room. The audience could feel the end, an anticipated climax, as the notes moved higher and higher, Gavin’s hand sliding much farther down the neck just some inches above the bottom where the bow swung side to side vigorously. The bow never slowed as the song approached one, final note, sustained for such a long moment. The high pitched ring, trembling along with his hand yet never cracking in its sound, and a final lift of the bow. Gavin froze all but except his left hand that slowed in its shakes from where it was firmly placed on the string as the vibrating last note eventually died. He lowered his bow slowly, finally lifted his head, and the room gave way to applause and cheering.

Gavin held a genuine and calm happiness at the room, some rising out of their seats soon followed by the rest of the room. Tina stood as she cheered a little more enthusiastically than the rest of the room. Connor had even found himself standing as he clapped. He learned that this was called a ‘standing ovation’, a means of congratulating a particularly impressive performance, though it might’ve been a mistake to partake as Gavin’s eyes found Tina– then the android detective standing right next to her. Gavin’s face dropped into confusion and was already starting to fester into anger, especially as he locked his gaze on Hank who had not remained as hidden behind Con and Tina as he was hoping. His glare was broken from the cue to clean up as the helpers from earlier entered the stage. Gavin swiftly picked up his cello and walked backstage.

“I think we should leave,” Hank comments to Tina as he finally stands. Connor predicted that Gavin would no doubt storm his way down to them, and Connor could hold no guarantee of keeping his promise if Gavin swung first.

“You know you guys are allowed to just hang out wherever, right? Yeah, he might be mad, but I don’t think it’s that bad. He’ll probably just stay backstage if he really wants to dwell on it,” Tina anxiously reasoned. “You guys can just chill out for a minute.”

It was nice that she was attempting to make the situation less tense, but there was just no questioning for Hank and Connor that Gavin was beyond mad. Hank and Connor were, however, interrupted by the oblivious Sarah. “Well, was it what Tina told you? Is he still just as good as you remember, Lieutenant?” she asked.

“Oh. Yeah. Yeah, he’s good,” Hank replied bluntly. “Me and Con have to get going.”

“Aw, really? So soon? Ya just got here,” Sarah seemed a little concerned but conceded. “Well, you two have a good rest of your night. It was a pleasure to meet y’all!” She then goes on to ask Tina about another drink.

Hank and Connor did not get as far away as they would’ve liked before they were stopped by a “HEY!” Some people were startled by the noise, but those most startled were the small party of four outside of the main gathering of customers. It didn’t take any time for Gavin to reach the table, and Sarah tries to ask him what’s wrong.

“It’s nothing with you, Sarah. If I could have a second to talk to– my colleagues,” he asks Sarah as calmly as possible.

“Well. . . Alright, dear,” she responds a little worried as she glances at Hank and Connor behind her, and she heads back to her station.

When she’s out of earshot, Gavin starts at a quieter volume than he started with: “What the fuck are you two doing here?”

“We were just leaving, Gavin. We’ll leave,” Hank tries to explain.

“No. That doesn’t answer my question. What the phck. Are. You two. Doing here.” Gavin’s pronunciation slipped a bit when he was angry, especially when he cussed. It was an obvious indicator of things not being as calm as Tina had tried to reassure them of earlier.

“I invited them. I’m sorry,” Tina pipes up. Gavin hadn’t even looked at her till she spoke. “It started with me inviting Connor cause I thought it would be funny, and Hank came along for Connor. I didn’t think it would make you this mad!”

“Tina, you are kinda an ass right now!” Gavin sighed after a moment, jaw loosening up as he turned back to the Anderson Duo, though he spoke more directly to Hank. “I thought you would never come back here, and I honestly don’t want to see you here again,” Gavin bit at him. Hank didn’t respond but simply put his hand on Connor’s shoulder so they could be back on their way.

Gavin turned back around to talk to Tina when Connor stopped in his tracks, confusing Hank. “You’re a very talented musician!” Connor blurted out at Gavin. Hank tried to make another gesture to Connor for them to leave, but Connor did not pivot towards the door this time. “How long have you been playing? To earn a gig at a club, I imagine it’s been a long time,” Connor started to partially become more shy in his tone.

Gavin turned back around to look at Connor. He still held fury in his gaze, and after a few moments of Gavin’s stare, Connor conceded with Hank to leave. They took some more steps for the door, but Gavin stopped them once again. “. . . I started when I was about 12.” The Andersons turned once more back at Gavin, who was now looking down a bit more thoughtfully. “That would make it 24 years. Has it really been that long?” The last question he whispered more to himself.

“. . . Your technique is impressive,” Connor finally adds after another moment of silence between everyone.

“When did you know anything about playing an instrument? Is that another program Cyberlife added? Another skill you never have to work for like the rest of us?” Gavin was getting angry again.

“No. I know nothing about playing an instrument. But I imagine your technique must be good, to have garnered an audience,” Connor spoke bluntly. This answer mildly confused Gavin, but he said nothing. “Was that your own song, one you wrote?”

Gavin faced back towards Tina for a moment with a look of ‘You seriously told him?’ Tina just shrugs innocently. “My own,” Gavin states, barely looking back at the android.

“Does it have a name?”

“. . . No. Not really. Not one to name them anything special. If you’re so interested, you come up with something.“ Less of an actual invitation and more of Gavin taking a jab at him.

Nonetheless, Connor genuinely thought about an answer. “Weavers.” Gavin fully looks up at Connor in confusion. “I thought that, when you played, your hands were like spiders. Moving along the strings like one running across the walls, or moving around weaving a web. When you played more than one string, it sounded like singers, and something about it right now reminds me of Charlotte from ‘Charlotte’s Web’,” Connor explains.

Gavin just blank stared at him, and Hank didn’t even bother expressing his bafflement verbally. “I like it,” Tina spoke up once again.

“Whatever,” Gavin speaks to no one in particular. “Maybe you should be a writer, Tin can,” another jab at Connor, but something about it held much less venom than any other jab he made in the past.

The only thing to break, once again, another silence between the group is Hank whispering to Connor one more time that they should leave. This time nothing stops them as they head out the door and to their car.

They don’t realize on their way out that Gavin didn’t take his eyes off them. Not out of hatred or spite, however. Even if Connor had tried to scan him, his detective programming probably wouldn’t detect what Gavin was feeling at that moment.

Chapter Text

“Get off of him!”

He didn’t listen. Why would he? He knew what he wanted and wasn’t going to obey the orders of Markus.

“I said-” Markus grunted as he wrapped an arm around the assaulter and flipped him over onto his back. He laid there panting, currently defenseless against the android. “-Get off my boyfriend!” Markus took his opportunity to attack.

Markus scratched Sumo’s belly as he playfully ‘threatened’ about “How you like that? Had enough?” Simon was still lying on the floor, giggling at the two, and covered in dog fur. Markus started lightly bapping Sumo’s snout, getting Sumo riled up as the dog started chasing Markus’ hands and attempting to catch them. Sumo eventually got up, tired of chasing hands, and went to directly climb and jump on Markus. Sumo, being the big dog that he is, knocked Markus off balance, but he wouldn’t give up so easily! He wrestled the dog down with him, grabbed his snoot, and wiggled Sumo around and they growled at each other.

Simon got up, and joined the fight, but not on his loving boyfriend’s side. Simon’s hands laid into Markus’ abdomen leaving Markus’ only defense to be letting go of Sumo and curling in on himself, but it still did nothing to slow Simon. Sumo escaped, jumping around the two as Markus could only laugh and wiggle from Simon’s ongoing attack which only got more intense. Markus could barely call Simon a traitor through his giggles. Simon had learned that Markus’ belly was his most ticklish part and showed no remorse in his own laughs at Markus’ torture!

The only thing that saved Markus was a still-riled-up Sumo jumping at them leaving Simon to have to defend his helpless damsel from being trampled by a happy, dancing dog. “C’mon! Let’s go outside!” he playfully called, patting his leg for Sumo to follow. They run out to the entrance while dodging kids running the other way, and it doesn’t take long for Markus to catch up.

*

A nice run that turns to a jog for a couple short blocks leaves Sumo panting happily and much calmer. They decide to walk a little farther to the park across from what used to be one of the busiest areas of the city. Sumo had no problem plopping down to rest when Markus and Simon decided to wipe off and sit at a bench, a ragdoll thump that had Simon giggling and Markus smiling.

A stray cat crawling on top of the snow-covered brick border of the park paid no mind to the two curled into each other, watching their breath through the frosty air. Markus fit perfectly into Simon’s side despite only being just an inch shorter. He turns his head more into Simon’s neck and nestles even closer, as close as physics will allow. The natural heat from their systems helped to keep them somewhat warm, but Markus was shivering slightly. Simon teased him about how more sensitive he was to the cold than him, which was met by a nip on the ear from Markus, and Simon only giggled through an “Oh? Kinky ~” joke that he used all too often by Markus’ standards. Simon’s arms snaked their way down to Markus’ waist and pulled his whole body into him. “Do you know what penguins do when they're cold?” Simon asked, and before Markus could respond with the answer he’s heard times before, Simon cuts in with a bear hug. “They cuddle!” Markus was left a giggling ball that was so flawlessly cradled in Simon’s embrace, so warm inside and out. They stayed like that for a moment, but when Markus started shifting again and nestling impossibly close, they figured there was no use in torturing Markus further and headed back, Markus and Simon hand-in-hand as Sumo, the silent third wheel, just dragged himself behind them.

Arriving back at that rundown church, they were greeted by Irene, one of the ST200s that has been with Elijah Kamski for years but she looked a little different.

“Did you dye your hair?” Markus inquired. Her hair was still mostly blonde, but the ends of her hair from her shoulders to her shoulder blades were a bright magenta. It paired well with her pink sweater, denim overall skirt, and black fleece-lined leggings.

“I did! Thanks for noticing!” She ran her fingers through her hair, showing off the color. “Elijah’s inside already, lookin’ for you. I’d put the dog somewhere else first though-” she gestures to Sumo before bending down to lightly pet him on the head. “- not that there’s anything wrong with you, sweetie!”

Markus, before heading inside, asked Simon to take Sumo into one of the back classrooms of the church, probably back in the little ‘daycare’ area; the kids love Sumo. Elijah was waiting in the front of the building, in the offices to the side of the worship area. Markus shut the door behind him but not before a boof from Sumo could be heard making Elijah flinch. “Please tell me that’s the only mutt here?” Elijah whines with a mixture of fear and repulsion.

“Yes, he’s the only dog here, I promise,” Markus kinda teases him, though Elijah doesn’t share Markus’ humor. He only starts rubbing his left forearm nervously and glaring at Markus with a small bit of hatred before shifting his gaze to the floor. “I-I’m sorry, Eli. I do promise Sumo is the only dog here, and Simon is taking him to the back classrooms. He won’t bother you. He’s rather calm and gentle anyways,” Markus tries reassuring a little which does nothing for Eli. He does take the apology, at least, much to Markus’ relief. Markus spreads his hands outward in an invitation for a hug, and Eli accepts with a softened expression. Markus apologizes once again before letting go, but still sees some worry laced into the man’s features which prompts him to ask if anything has been going on recently.

“Not really. Getting Cyberlife back is proving difficult, though.” He turns to his tablet which had been set on the desk in the room and pulls up his emails with multiple current executives of the company. “Not all of them left during the revolution, and the ones that stayed have a not-so-well-hidden vendetta against you and Jericho.” Some conversations were obviously dropped by the other person, some at least had the decency to pick up the conversation again with a lie about ‘Oh, this ended up in my Spam folder’ or ‘Bad internet since everything’s gone down’ only to drop the convo again (the last excuse made Markus chuckle out of annoyance. Data has been made readily accessible for almost all, let alone a big, rich company). Other people made an effort for more in depth discussion, but kept making up bullshit reasonings for keeping hold of the company:

‘Most androids are not equipped with knowledge of how to operate machinery, and it would be better to keep everything under the supervision of human engineers.’

‘Androids wanted to be free from humans, so I genuinely don’t think it’s in their best interest to live in the place of their oppression.’

‘The renovations it would take to make this factory into a shelter would be far too extensive. It would be better if they rehomed to the dozens of abandoned houses and apartments throughout the city.”

On a surface level to any human outsider, these seem like legitimate arguments, but to Markus and Eli, it was a complete denial of everything Elijah was saying to them.

Most androids actually have extensive, hands-on training with machinery and their own mechanics due to being forced to patch their injuries up alone, whether they had the proper parts/tools or not. This also completely forgets that The Elijah Kamski is with them.

Yeah, the fact that Cyberlife can be boiled down to the root of android trauma was a concern. That’s why they had meetings and discussions with all the members of Jericho, created the pros and cons, and had public debates over it, and the conclusion was Cyberlife would be a great home for Jericho due to its ready supply of parts and tools for repairs, and the floors used for storing androids as well as old offices can be renovated into rooms/lounges. It’s also very big and could easily house all Jericho members, android and human.

Yes, the renovations would take a very long while and would be a continuous task, but for all the previously stated points, it’s still the best option and one Jericho is willing to work for. If they lived in the abandoned city, Jericho would have to continue to steal parts and tools, the buildings aren’t large enough leading Jericho to being more spread out from each other, and the threat of ‘Cœur’ made it too dangerous whereas Cyberlife was safe.

The use of buzzwords that they thought Elijah and Markus wanted to hear and the fake-friendly tones you could imagine through the screen was absolutely asinine! They didn’t care about androids, they just didn’t want androids to have Cyberlife; they more than likely wanted androids to continue suffering as some sort of ‘punishment’ for the revolution. A way of hanging on to the last bit of power over androids they have.

“I know you wanted a civil approach, Markus, but I’ve had my experiences with these people. They annoyed the shit out of me before, and they still do now. A revolution worked once, y’know,” Eli spat out, not directed towards Markus.

He was right. Markus was debating if it would be safe enough to set up a barricade outside Cyberlife and hold an overnight protest or however long it took these execs to step down. It had been all December, and this is where they have gotten.

A knock on the door pulled them from their thoughts and conversation. Josh’s voice could be heard asking to come in which he was granted. Josh was very diplomatic and often was involved in these talks. That wasn’t to say anything bad about Simon and North! It’s just. . . North was very quick to anger and often offered the most aggressive or violent solution, and Simon, while having his own opinions, did mostly just go with whatever Markus wanted and wasn’t best at actually settling debates. Josh was calmer, peaceful, and was more likely to have a valid argument to help settle things. They let him read through the emails.

“Are you serious?” he complained, more to himself. Elijah voiced his anger, Markus explained his idea of a possible protest, and Josh thought on it while rereading emails. “Is it possible to hold an in-person meeting? A protest could be a good option, but I don’t want to chance their willingness to violence if we still have one more option available to us. They're willing to hold interviews at the building, so surely they’re open for a meeting.”

Something about what Josh said caught Eli’s attention. “Yes, a meeting could be held. . .” He spoke slowly and drawn out, as if pondering. Then, a somewhat devilish grin grew on his face. “How about an interview instead?” Markus and Josh weren’t quite following. “A meeting might just lead to the same arguments and could result in us having to hold a physical protest, though that doesn’t seem to be exactly in everyone’s favor here. It would quite honestly just be a waste of time, running in circles with them. But you tell news outlets about this major plan to hand Cyberlife back over to me in the name of Jericho, you get a camera crew on them and get them to have a discussion with us via an interview, the public watching them might make them buckle. They’ll say things to get on the side of the public, which sides with Jericho. They might make the same arguments, but we’ll be there to give ours as well, and I might be able to trick them into an agreement on camera by using their fear of bad publicity against them.”

“That’s. . . awfully manipulative,” Josh quietly comments. “But could work?” Josh thought some more, and still held some distaste on his face. “How do you know they won’t turn their backs on us?”

“They’re nothing but a bunch of pussies, they appeal to the masses. It’s what got them to the positions they’re at: their ability to use people’s desires and wants to give themselves a good rep and more money. They turn their back, you have the media to wipe them out.”

Josh hadn’t paid much mind to Elijah before, but now that he was around often enough, Josh found himself sometimes unsettled by the man. He was explosive, and it was apparent how dangerous he was on a mental level. The dirt and knowledge he had, how manipulative he was to get what he wanted. Maybe that’s all it was that was pushing Josh away from the proposition, cause from a logical standpoint, he couldn’t deny the possible effectiveness. Markus didn’t seem as off put and after careful consideration, he deemed it a good idea, but egging these guys on too much was a risk they had to control. They would have to precisely plan their words as to cause as little friction and suspicion as possible, to which Josh and Eli agreed.

“We do still need to find a way to get them to agree to the interview. If we just come out of the blue trying to set up an interview, then walk in claiming they agreed to something they obviously haven’t yet, that is going to cause a lot of friction no matter how careful we are,” Josh points out.

“I do agree.” Elijah paused a moment, thinking again. “Maybe I can ease them into giving me Cyberlife for slightly different reasons than for Jericho. The project for Jericho will be just a personal plan after they give me the company,” his tone feigned innocence as though the execs were in the room with them. “I’ve already wasted so much time with them, but I might be able to make this quick.”

“As appreciative as I and the rest of us would be for having a new home, there is no real rush. We are safe enough here, and progress after a revolution is not gonna happen overnight, as much as I wish it would. You are right, though, a revolution worked once, and I will make my determination known if they want to bore me,” Markus closed on. Elijah gave him a tiny smirk that spoke for him: ‘I will be by your side when and if it comes to that.’ Markus turned to Josh for his stance to which he nodded, though a bit worried. Josh was not a fan of most confrontations and was rightfully afraid of violence, so Markus attempted to ease him with a friendly hand on the shoulder. If Markus can continue to keep things peaceful, he will.

All three’s attentions are drawn to the sound of some kids running through the hallway, laughing, all while familiar voices greet them. Josh is the first to leave the room and greet the guests. “Here to pick up Sumo?” He asks Connor lightheartedly.

“Yes, but always free to talk!”

Hank was busy with some of the kids; there was a human infant that he currently held in his hands reaching for his beard. He didn’t really seem to mind too much when little Moira tugged on him, at most just wincing lightly, as he reassured the teenage mom that it was okay. ‘I’ve dealt with it all before,’ he would say somewhat solemnly, and no one wanted to ask any specifics that might upset him, so they would let him be with the kids.

“It might not be a bad idea to involve you in what we were just discussing,” Josh gestured to the room with Markus and Elijah. They let Josh run through everything with Connor which was met with a simple agreement from him. Everyone was already a bit tired of talking about it more, so Hank, Simon, and North can hear about it later.

“Aside from all of that, how have you been, Connor?” Markus simply asked.

“We were finally able to catch a member of ‘Cœur’ after Jimmy, a bartender Hank knows well, spotted one of them in the abandoned city. He was brought in for interrogation two days ago but has yet to speak. However, we are able to hold him on the charge of gang affiliation. We also have a lookout at that club and the surrounding abandoned buildings. You might be a little happy to know that he has been one of the only members spotted, which could mean they are spreading out, equaling less big attacks and rather focusing on individuals.”

“Wow, sounds eventful,” Markus states, that sort of manner where one doesn’t know how to respond but knows that it’s a good thing.

“Admittedly, it’s a little disturbing that he’s the only one you found so far. Investigations are no doubt hard, I’m not saying anything about that! I just. . .” Josh sighs, “I don't like how smart they are. They hide too well. They get away too fast.” The room pauses, feeling the despair.

“I have faith in Connor and Hank,” Elijah breaks the silence. “Now, I’m sure when Markus asked how you’ve been it was to get away from depressing topics,” Elijah walks up to Connor as he casually talks with his hands. “So, how is deviancy treating you? How’s Hank? How’s life? Surely you’ve witnessed things you hadn’t before. Movies, music, anything?”

“Oh yes, I have.” As soon as Connor finishes his sentence, his face suddenly lights up. He lightly gasps before he speaks. “I saw some older movies recently and discovered Marilyn Monroe! She’s an amazing actress, singer, model, very kind, I’m sure you’ve heard of her! She’s infamous!” Connor’s body tenses out of excitement as he talks. He balls up his hands and kind of shakes them up and down, happy stimming. “I think she’s wonderful, I’ve seen her movie ‘Gentlemen Prefer Blondes’ five times, ‘How To Marry a Millionaire’ three times, just recently watched ‘There’s No Business Like Show Business’, and I’ve watched ‘The Misfits’ four times! She has many other movies, and her singing voice is so-” Connor looks off to the side of the room, trying to think of a word he could use. ‘Amazing’ undermined her talent too much. He wouldn’t say her voice was ‘angelic’, angels were often depicted as more choir-like, and Marilyn’s voice wasn’t as ‘strict’ as a church choir. ‘Beautiful’ was close, but she had such a bubbly attitude, and like angelic, it implied something a bit more strict. “Delightful! Yeah, elegant and playful. Delightful,” he remarks mostly to himself, shown by how he wasn’t looking at anyone around him.

Markus was full-blown smiling at Connor, Josh held an affectionate smirk, and Elijah was sort of fidgeting with his lips, rolling them in between his teeth them pursing them, as an attempt at hiding a laugh caused by Connor’s joyous interest.

“Is he yapping your ear off too?” Hank was in the doorway staring at the four. When Connor turned around, he frowned at the insinuation that he was annoying, and Eli took the opportunity to break into a wide smile before ducking his head, still trying not to laugh. Connor’s interest wasn’t something to mock, it was just that he was so excited that it was hard not to feel giggly at this sudden burst of hardy happiness.

“He asked what I have been up to, what new things I’ve seen, I’m not ‘yapping’ anyone’s ear off!” Connor was genuinely pouting at this point, so Hank was quick to comfort him and reassure that he didn’t mean it like that.

“You’re not annoying. I’m just teasing you ‘bout how you never woulda acted like this two months ago. Back then, you said you weren’t alive. Now you go on and on about things that you like, it’s nice.” Hank side-hugs Connor as he speaks. “Okay?”

Connor accepts the apology, but is still frowning. He looks to the others and sees their smiles which had grown more fond and gentle at Connor’s outburst, and he lets his face relax.

He had found Ms. Monroe earlier this month and had a somewhat similar conversation with Tina about her. When Tina questioned, ‘You know about her?’, Connor went on a tangent about how he adored her voice, the endearing roles she played, her comedy, and that he even started looking into her life. He went on about how Norma Jeane, Marilyn’s real name, was such a confident and passionate person despite growing up so troubled. At some point in the conversation, however, Tina started teasing him about how he had a ‘celebrity crush’, which he didn’t understand. He tried to explain how he simply just admired her drive and talents, but was continually teased by Tina, who tried to get Fowler to join in when he walked in the breakroom for coffee. When Connor expressed his admiration, trying to get Fowler on his side, it seemed that it only made the captain confused and he called Connor ‘weird’. He and Tina learned pretty quickly that it was a mistake as Connor just threw his hands to his sides, held a scowl on his face, and stomped off angrily back to his desk. He even refused to talk to Hank when he asked what was wrong. Connor was able to bite back, he was witty and sassy. Clear as day when he was with Gavin. The one thing Connor hated though, was being isolated and not listened to. When people used teasing to throw around accusations and refusing to listen to your explanation, when people just had to throw in their personal thoughts rather than just accepting that someone has interests. He felt odd enough, no need to rub it in his face! But it seemed he was with a different crowd today.

“Sorry,” he says meekly.

“You’re fine, Connor. I’m glad that you’re enjoying the ability to experience things and to have interests,” Elijah held a more proud smirk now. Hank rolled his eyes a little at Elijah’s ego over deviancy and his exit programs. Elijah’s pleased expression didn’t last long when Simon walked in the room.

“Hello, you two!” Simon handed a leash off to Hank, the other end clipped to the collar of a tired Sumo.

Elijah yelped and hoisted himself onto the table, pulling his feet up, not letting anything near the edge of it where Sumo could more easily reach, trying to remain calm. The sudden commotion piqued Sumo’s curiosity and he took some steps past Hank and Connor’s sides to the table. Hank held a firm grip on the leash and attempted to tug lightly and call his name, hoping Sumo would obey the soft command. Connor was trying to ease Eli when the Saint Bernard, not knowing any better, hopped his front paws up onto the table, standing to get a better view of the man. Elijah flinched pretty hard and hid his face behind his arm and started screaming, “GET IT AWAY FROM ME!” Hank decided to more aggressively grab Sumo by the collar to force him down and they backed up to the doorway. Connor’s trying one last time to tell Elijah it’s okay when Hank orders that they should leave. Connor quickly moves and the two shut the door behind them, walking Sumo out to the car.

“Mr. Kamski! I’m so sorry, I didn’t think that you were still in the room, I didn’t see you at first!” Simon begins to apologize profusely.

Irene, who had been chatting with androids in the main worship area, heard her friend scream and tried to find him as fast as she could. When she slams open the door, it startles everyone. “Are you okay, Eli?! What happened?!”

“I thought he finished talking a while ago and wanted to return Sumo to Hank!” Simon explains to her.

“Everyone just breathe!” Josh yells out as he takes a deep breath himself. “Sumo is a kind and caring dog, he likes to help people. He probably thought he could help you,” Josh attempts to explain to Kamski, but it doesn’t go over well.

“I DON’T CARE WHAT IT THOUGHT! IT WAS TRYING TO JUMP UP ON THE TABLE! That’s what dogs do! They jump, they bite, THEY’RE MEANT TO! They hurt, even if you don’t think they mean to, it’s what they do-” Elijah’s screaming had dissolved into tears. He curled in on himself, trying to hide his face, and Irene jumped up onto the table to hug and comfort him. She orders everyone out, and the only one who lingers at all is Markus to quickly tell Elijah to keep breathing.

When they exited the room, they were met with Hank and Connor once again.

“Where’s Sumo?!” Simon worriedly asks.

“Don’t worry, he’s in the car with the windows down. Is Elijah okay?” Hank answers, looking to the closed door.

“Irene is with him, and I doubt she’s going to let anyone in right now. He’s pretty stressed out.” Markus could see the desire to help on their faces, they were just those kinds of people, so he hoped he was able to deter them from possibly making it worse.

Hank and Connor took a breath they both had been holding, and Hank stated ‘As long as he’s okay’ when Connor started coughing. Hank held one hand on Con’s chest and one on his back to keep him standing up since he was doubling over. It was a random, kind of violent fit and it had Hank worried. “Are you okay, son?” He asks him as he lightly pats his back. The coughing stops and Connor is able to stand up again. Markus puts his hands on Connor’s shoulders and asks if everything’s alright, but Hank suddenly remembered something. “Wait, how can an android cough? You don’t have real lungs.”

“Androids do have a system to help purge foreign bodies out of our systems like humans do,” Josh speaks for the first time since they left the room. “Just like how humans sneeze or cough to remove anything that could get them sick or injure them, androids do the same in order to preserve our systems from damage. What I don’t understand is what just caused that. Did you accidentally swallow something, Con?”

“I don’t know,” Connor responds confused. “My system doesn’t detect anything, so I guess whatever it was is dislodged now.”

“This building is old, dust and materials falling off the walls and ceiling. In the rush, you probably got a dust bunny or something,” Simon spoke with his Caregiver voice, which he didn’t always realize he used or was even there. “I think we all just need to relax right now. Kamski is being taken care of, and you two might as well get out of this old building.”

“Yeah.” That’s all Hank really says as a farewell while Con trails close behind him.

Chapter Text

December was certainly freezing, but the snow wasn’t too bad, much to the enjoyment of the Andersons. Connor was lucky in being able to get Hank on a more consistent, more productive, and less destructive schedule, so they were up fairly early nowadays, like around 8:30. They had been getting in to work at 10 or 11, but Hank stopped Connor during their morning routine.

“I know this isn’t all too special for your first Christmas. And I know it’s also not Christmas yet, but I would let Cole open a gift early on Christmas Eve. I didn’t really know what else to get you, but- Merry Early Christmas, Connor,” Hank spoke in a slightly awkward tone as he handed Con a pretty big gift bag with sparkly paper able to be seen coming out it. Connor had taken it and noticed it had weight to it, but couldn’t see in it through the paper. Instead of opening the bag like Hank expected, Connor just sat there for a second with his LED flashing yellow. “It’s not that complicated to open a gift Connor,” Hank jokes.

“Gifts are usually given on special occasions, correct?”

“Yeah, aaand today’s Christmas Eve. It’s the 24th of December today, Connor.”

“Oh.” Connor pondered for a moment before he momentarily closed his eyes as his LED continued to spin yellow. He was back to reality in just a few seconds, looking back up at a confused Hank Anderson. “Christmas is a Christian-based holiday celebrating the birth of the Christian Messiah, Jesus Christ. It is celebrated every year on the 25th of December on the Gregorian Calendar, and the day previous is referred to as Christmas Eve. Some of its traditions are taken from the Pagan celebration of Yule, such as putting up a pine tree in the home and adorning it with lights and trinkets called ‘ornaments’. People celebrate-”

“Okay, Connor! I don’t need a briefing on the holiday!” Hank cut him off before thinking to himself. “. . . Do you really not know what Christmas is?”

“I don’t,” Connor admitted. “I’m sorry if I offended you or made you feel off put.”

“Offended me? No, no, Connor, you’re fine. I thought that you might’ve already known what Christmas was, but I guess Cyberlife didn’t see the point in giving you that information, huh?”

“I read that not everyone who celebrates Christmas is religious and rather uses the holiday as a day of no work or school to be with family. I wasn’t sure if it is religious for you or not.”

“It’s not religious, I haven’t been to a service or picked up a Bible since I moved away from my parents. No, I just. . . I used to celebrate with Cole, but haven’t in these past few years. . .” Hank keeps pausing in his sentence, but Connor remains quiet to let him finish any lingering thoughts. “. . . And I thought you might like having something that’s actually yours.” He gestures to the gift bag with a small smile on his face. “I didn’t go all out this year, I’m not even sure I kept my old tree, but I guess it wouldn’t have mattered much anyways.” He plops down on the bed next to Connor in the same fashion Sumo flops after a walk. Connor smiles at the mental image, and Hank smiles back.

“I’m sorry I didn’t get you anything, Dad.”

“Oh no no no, I don’t need anything, never have,” he groans a bit as he speaks from pulling himself upright before pulling Connor into a tight hug. “All I need is you!” Connor gets pulled down to the bed, unable, and honestly not trying, to escape from Hank. Con’s giggles seem to catch the attention of Sumo from the living room as he trots his way down to the bedroom so he can jump up and lay down on top of this make ship dog-pile. Hank’s trying to spit a bit of dog hair from his mouth which gets Connor laughing a bit more. It was actually a surprise the dog heard Hank’s command to get off over Connor.

“Are you going to open that any time soon?” Hank jests after some moments of quiet. “You can actually use any of them today.”

Connor was confused by what that meant, but all the more reason to open it. He removed the paper, semi-neatly setting it in a pile beside him, and he could finally see the clothes hidden in the bag.

“I wasn’t exactly sure what you liked, but I know you once told me that you thought your favorite colors were pink and yellow.”

Connor remembered telling Hank that. They were watching the sun go down at the kids park on Belle Isle when Connor made that comment. He just thought they were so beautiful. Most of the shirts and sweaters had yellow and pink on them, and almost all them were bright and colorful. He had a couple basic jeans, a pair of slacks, and a couple sweatpants. There were also two sets of what Connor could recognize as pajamas rather than daytime wear. One was a shirt with a Golden Retriever on it and a matching pair of pants with the same dog face all over them, and one was actually a really fluffy onesie. Pulling it out of the bag, it was a Stitch onesie, a character Connor had grown a little obsession with.

“Should hopefully be enough for the start of a wardrobe, clothes that are actually your size rather than my baggy pants that nearly keep falling off,” Hank chuckles. Currently, Connor was just in his boxers and Hank’s only oversized black tshirt. “I have another gift for you, but you’re gonna have to wait till tomorrow.”

Connor smiled as Hank ruffled the kid’s hair that had suddenly become curly some weeks after the Revolution. “I’m going to the bathroom, you get dressed.”

*

Connor chose a warm, yellow sweater and some jeans, which Hank said looked like it actually suited Connor. He agreed.

“I still feel a little bad that I didn’t entirely know what to get you. I would’ve liked to get you something that would interest you, but you don’t entirely know a whole lot of things that you like. I already got you a phone so you could listen to music properly without shutting down,” Hank’s sentence never truly finished.

“You already gave me some of the most important things I could ever ask for.”

“Yeah, but clothes are still a bit boring, and Christmas is kind of a day to spoil someone.”

“I don’t mean the clothes, I mean my life. If everything had gone according to Cyberlife’s plan, I wouldn’t have lived to even see this day, but you were one of the only humans to look at me and say I was human and that I’m alive. Markus might have helped me become deviant, but you were the one to give me deviancy, a reason to not be afraid of turning my back on Cyberlife. You then gave me a home, somewhere I could also call mine. Not all androids have that. Not all androids also have a family. You became more than just my work partner or a friend, you became my father. Gifts seem nice, things that are given that are personal to the one receiving them, but I don’t need gift bags and boxes or a tree. I’m fine right here like this,” Connor closed as he finally had made his way to where Hank was cooking his eggs on the stove. He leaned against Hank’s shoulder in a pseudo-hug. “I love you, Dad. Merry Christmas.”

As Hank turned to actually hug Connor, he thought it was cruel how often Connor could make him cry.

*

They had gotten to the DPD by 10:43, and Connor was instantly greeted by the androids and officers at the front desk complimenting his outfit. Making their way to the bullpen, Jeffrey made a joke about how he hoped Connor was just wearing Hank’s shirts cause he had nothing else, and not because he actually liked the obnoxious colors, but now he was ‘sadly mistaken.’ Hank just rolled his eyes as Connor giggled, and they continued on their way back to their desks.

They still hadn’t gotten anything out of their recent ‘Cœur’ prisoner, who has been identified as a 5’ 11”, lean, dark haired, white man by the name of Jakoby Hitch. What they did find though was a journal of his detailing some attacks he had done, five in total. It was found a day after he had been brought in after officers thoroughly searched through Forbidden, the building he was found in. There was nothing about other members or any hideouts, just about the androids. Yesterday, Gavin was seen reading through the journal very carefully and found that in Jakoby’s descriptions of where the androids lived, he felt like he recognized one of the places as a uniquely designed house near his neighborhood. He said that he wanted to see if he could pick apart any details and be able to estimate where the attacks were. Using the journal and any reports, he might be able to determine a possible radius of attack, meaning in the middle of all the points could be a huge hideout. That seemed to be what he was still working on when they walked in that morning, which he was deeply engrossed in. Sadly, not all attacks have likely been reported, so what they were working with wasn’t as much as they would’ve liked.

Connor and Hank hadn’t gotten any new reports from Jericho or Jimmy, and nobody had called or came in to report the past two days, which was actually kinda nice. It seemed as though today would be properly finishing up unfiled reports and possibly stopping by the Police Academy to check up on Jericho. Connor and Markus decided that any android could choose if they wanted to work on the force, but those not equipped with police programming would have to go through police training like anyone else before Jericho could be properly integrated with the DPD. It would be at least four months of training, and the number of willing androids was a bit limited, but they could make due. North was one of the first to join the program, almost immediately after it was brought up. She was briefed by Hank and Connor on her need for control over herself, that she would be kicked out if she posed a threat to the public due to anger. She understood, and, even though they just started only a week ago, she has held herself to a high standard of discipline, a good goal to set for yourself. Only about a dozen joined her in this course, but with Jeffrey having the SWAT join the DPD soon, he felt that their numbers were good, and a dozen androids should hopefully be enough to help deal with cases where maybe only androids should be heavily involved.

Not too long after they had turned on their terminals and Connor was weeding through any spelling errors, Chris came up to them with a gift bag in his hand, shorter than the one Hank handed him this morning but wider. “Hey, Connor!”

“Hello, Officer Miller!”

“C’mon, Con. How many times do I gotta tell you, you can call me Chris,” he comfortingly smiled. “Every now and then, I can get you to. Don’t gotta be that professional.”

“Okay,” Connor shyly smiled back. He called Tina by her first name, and even called Gavin often by his name too, but Tina was not the most professional person on a day-to-day basis, and Gavin was– well, Gavin. But Chris Miller always seemed professional and respectful, so even if he was friendly with Connor, it felt like he deserved the respect of his title.

“What can we do for you, Chris?” Hank half groans as he stretches over the back of his chair.

“I thought it might be nice to give Connor a little gift for his first holiday, if you celebrate anything.” Chris somewhat timidly hands the bag over to Connor, to which Connor explains his lack of knowledge on holidays but appreciates the kindness within them.

Con was going to put the bag underneath his desk until Jeffrey, who had apparently been making his way over, asked what it was. “It’s a gift from Chris. I haven’t opened it to know what it is.”

“Well, why don’t you open it?”

“Oooo, what’s going on over here?” Tina must’ve been lurking nearby as well. “Open it! I want to see it too!” she said with a playful grin as she sat herself on the very edge of Connor’s desk. “I’m sure Chris would like to see if you like it.”

Chris rolled his eyes but didn’t object or walk away, so Connor assumed that maybe that was at least a little true. He removed the polka dot tissue paper, but couldn’t make out the gift so easily by just looking in the bag. When he grabbed it, it was soft and squishy. It felt very plush, which Connor figured made sense when he pulled out a stuffed animal. It was pastel colored, blue, pink, and purple, with little white polka dots and stars all over the top of it. Its face was a large grin with far-set eyes, and it had fins and a tail positioned to swing side to side. It took Connor a moment of thinking, but he realized it was a Whale Shark. The bottom of it was all white except for a little embroidered pink StingRay meant to show a symbiotic relationship between the two species. Connor smiled and hummed as he looked at its face again. “He has a little funky grin.” He flips it so that it’s facing Hank, and Hank just makes a remark of, “Like you.”

“I know you like fish and marine animals, so I thought it might be a nice but simple gift.”

“I do like it! Does he have a name? Or. . .” Connor paused. “Do you name things that are meant to resemble living creatures, or does the fact that it’s inanimate mean it doesn’t have a name?”

“Oh, it’s yours, you can give it a name! You can give anything you own a name. My at-home laptop had to be named something so that it can be found and paired with whatever bluetooth device, so I gave it an actual one. My laptop’s name is Joseph,” Chris chuckled.

“Hm. I’ll think of something,” Connor remarked to either himself or the plush, no one could really tell. “What do you think, Sumo?” He held the plush to Sumo who sniffed it and quietly boofed. Chris decided to head back to his desk after a simple goodbye. Hank asked Jeffrey what was up, and it led to a casual conversation between the two, while Tina talked to Connor.

“Are there other winter holidays? I read something about Yule while looking up Christmas, but does every religion have a winter holiday?”

“I don’t know, but you could ask Gavin about Hanukkah!”

“What you talkin’ bout?” Tina whipped her head around to see Gavin finally take a pause in his work, leaning against his desk drinking his who-knows-what-number cup of coffee today.

“Connor doesn’t know anything about any holidays, so I told him he should ask you about Hanukkah.”

“Why?” Gavin started walking up to Connor’s desk so he wouldn’t have to continue yelling.

“Cause he doesn’t know anything! Were you not listening?!”

Finally having made it to the desk, Gavin stares down at Connor, something between a blank stare and a glare. “I thought androids were supposed to have ‘infinite intelligence.’ Isn’t that what that fuck of your creator once said?” Gavin adorns a hateful smug look.

“One minute, you hate me for being programmed with the ability to know everything. The next minute, when I try to learn like everyone else, you hate me for that too. Make up your mind, Gavin.”

“Boys!” Tina shouts, getting the momentary attention of the nearby Hank and Jeffrey. “Can we just go one day when you two aren’t trying to piss the other off? You were doing fine just a second ago.” She sighs once she’s done as she pinches the bridge of her nose in genuine frustration.

Gavin sets down his coffee which gets Connor to look back at him to notice his dramatic change in demeanor. “Sorry,” he says quietly as he tilts his head a little. Tina looks back up at him with some anger still staining her face. He raises his hands up in a surrender as he continues, “I’ll– be more civil.”

Connor thought it odd that Gavin took Tina’s emotions to heart so much that he was promising to be nice to someone everyone knows he hates. Con guessed as a show of Gavin’s promise, he started to briefly explain to Connor, “Hanukkah is a Jewish holiday celebrating the rededication of our Temple from the Greeks that defiled it and killed our people. When the revolt took the Temple back, there was only enough oil left for the Jews to provide light for one night, but by a miracle it lasted eight nights which was enough to then gather more oil. So Hanukkah is celebrated for eight nights through the lighting of a menorah which has nine candles: one for each of the eight nights, and then the shammus or ‘helper’ which we light first in order to light the other candles. It’s not as big of a holiday as people think it is.”

Connor furrowed his brow a little. “Why is it not a big holiday?”

“The story is not actually a part of the Tanakh, our scriptures, so it actually has very little religious significance in comparison to some of our other holidays. People think it’s super important to us because it generally comes around Christmas time which for most of the nation is a huge holiday,” he finished, raising his hands in a mocking jazz-hands gesture.

“But, it’s still nice to have a little tradition you can share with others, like Dom~!” Tina shimmied her shoulders slightly at Gavin as his face dropped a bit. “With your workaholic attitude, having a moment to spend must be nice for you two, right?” It wasn’t until she finished her sentence that she realized how offput Gavin looked. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Gavin tapped his fingers on Connor’s desk as he stared down at nothing in particular. “I. . . I’m gonna go back to doing my investigation. Thank you for reminding me,” he hastily picks up his coffee and heads back to his desk before Tina can grab him. Tina’s momentum flops as she sighs again, knowing he won’t let her take him out of his work now.

“He’s been off for a while,” she quietly comments. “Like all month.”

Connor listened as he debated back and forth if he should ask what’s on his mind. He finally caves after a long few seconds of silence. “Who is Dom?”

“Hm? Oh. Um, Gavin doesn’t really date people, but he sometimes likes having close relationships with people. He doesn’t experience romance, but he can like someone on an emotional level. Like, being close with them, spending your days or your life with them, caring for them. Think of it as like when I teased you about having a crush on Marilyn Monroe, but to you it’s not romantic. You just think she’s extra cool and like knowing stuff about her. That’s how Gavin feels. No romance, just people who are extra cool.”

“Is that who Dom is?”

“Yeah. Gavin’s extra cool person. They live together and everything. I wonder if him and Dom got into another fight.” The last sentence she spoke more to herself.

Connor figured he had overstepped a little already by asking about Dom, so he decided to not question Tina further.

*

Connor sat the whale shark on the nightstand on his side of the bed as Hank crawled into his side.

The next morning, Hank handed Connor another gift. He’d almost forgotten Hank mentioned it yesterday. This one was much smaller. Inside contained what Connor has come to know as Fidget Toys. There was a blue stress ball, a fidget spinner, a tangle, a pop-it shaped like a whale, and an infinity cube. Connor decided to take the fidget spinner to work, clearly already becoming a favorite of his, and Hank just chuckled at watching Connor practice trying to balance the object on one finger as it spun.