Chapter Text
Snow melted in Detroit, and though spring was almost upon it the city remained in the state of grey bleakness for that time, green only starting to fight the grey bleakness of the season. At least the weather was getting better: blue sky greeted citizens more often than steel colored clouds. One could hope that when flowers and green leaves finally appear everywhere the tensions of the changed city will lower. Before that, sadly, the homicide division of the DPD had as much work as ever, now seemingly overflowing with android-related crimes. Last year most of them would qualify as destroying of possession, or not at all. Now the statistics were through the roof and the police tried to keep up.
“Dispatch to Anderson, we just got a call about your suspect entering the building at Whittaker Street, two units are on their way, sending you the location”
“Great. Let’s get this off of our list.” Hank crumbled the burger wrapper and stuck it into the compartment in the car door, much to Connor’s dismay, but his android partner learned that commenting on it does nothing. He focused on downloading the location instead.
“He’s been getting frantic. Might be dangerous.” He noted.
“Yeah, especially after you rattled that friend of his.” Hank agreed, recalling an interrogation they had two days before. According to plan, a little scary picture painted for the young friend of their suspected murderer was enough to flush him from hiding. When they reached the address a police android standing by the car blocking the alleyway waved at them.
“Our guys went inside, best if you park there, cut his another escape route.” He said.
Just as they did, gunshots rang from somewhere above them. Two, then one more, hard to accurately tell who was the source. Both the Andersons jumped out of the car, they saw the PC-200 instantly reporting shots fired and moving to a safer position in relation to where the threat might come from.
“Keep close.” The lieutenant instructed, reaching for his gun, and walked towards the back entrance of the building. He was of course way more vulnerable of the two of them, just soft flesh and the will to risk his life. Hank knew very well his android partner could take maybe even a few shots and not so much as flinch - it didn’t change the fact he wasn’t going to let that happen. He was the one with a gun, so he went first. If anyone ever tried to mock him about it, he usually responded paying for the repairs would exceed both their paychecks.
Connor followed, but took maybe five steps before the doors flung open. Automatic analysis slow mode kicked in for him immediately, their suspect turned into an outlined target with a highlighted gun. And an even more highlighted bullet leaving it - a red flash, warnings, an immediately calculated route that Connor didn’t have the time and capacity to internalize.
“Gun!” He shouted and yanked Hank backwards in an attempt to move him from the line of fire. The yanked shouted, cussed, in a tone that Connor immediately recognized as the pained cuss, not a frustrated one. Second and third shots went over their heads, and RK800 started dragging his partner back.
“Fuck, I’m hit!” Hank informed, and the fact he did was somewhat comforting: he was still conscious and alive, meaning the shot wasn’t instantly fatal. The shooter ran down the alley in the opposite direction, chances of catching him drastically falling down with every step. But that wasn’t important.
“We have officer down, officer down, I need assistance” Connor broadcasted directly to whoever might hear on the police channel, while trying to assess the damage. Bullet went in on the outside part of the thigh and clean through, if they were lucky it also missed the bone completely. But there was a lot of blood, soaking through the pants and starting to pool underneath Hank already.
“Keep talking to me, Hank. And keep pressure on it!” Connor, instructed searching the mess inside the car for a tourniquet. Why did it have to be so messy in there! He was sure there is a first aid kit inside - he put there himself!
“What about, how it fucking hurts? Where’s the guy? Where’s - where’s my gun?” Hank tried keeping pressure on the wound, but felt lightheaded.
“Ran away, doesn’t matter. I’m going to stop the bleeding, hang on.” Having found what he searched for, Connor kneeled by his partner. The LED on the android’s temple flashed red in contrast to his urgent, but collected tone. Fear for his own life was one thing, fear for someone else’s was a whole other deal that felt heavier, crushing. He contemplated the concept of dying sometimes, and always stopped before reaching the concept of death of a friend, simply not feeling strong enough to venture there even in hypothetical scenarios. The percentages of chances of survival danced at the edges of his vision, as his mind ran simulations. All quite high. No need to overreact, he just needed to focus.
“20 years… 20 years and I’ve never been shot before.” Hank realised weakly. “There goes my record.”
“It’s still a pretty impressive record.” Connor said. Gotta keep up the conversation. He could see now the other police officers leaving the building and reinforcements arriving, the sound of the sirens felt muted by the drumming of thirium pumped strongly throughout his body.
“It’s going to be alright, Lieutenant. Help is on its way.”
They allowed him in the ambulance, with half the paramedic team being androids no one thought of protesting. Connor barely remembered questions about his own status that he quickly dismissed - the blood covering his shirt and hands was very obviously red. Quick reaction and immediate medical care prevented any actual threat to Hank Anderson’s life and only after processing that information RK800 felt able to actually assess the situation. There was a lengthy report he had to write and a whole lot of procedures following a cop being shot in the line of duty. Replaying the moment in his mind, he could now tell the suspect, desperate to flee, started firing blindly before he even fully raised the gun, that’s why the first one went low, and the others too high. They were lucky. But now Hank was on a forced leave, required to not only heal, but also get cleared back based on his mental state. That could take time. What was Connor to do in the meantime?
‘
“...And lastly. Lieutenant Hank Anderson is stable, vocal and will be released home today. He’s still on leave for the next two weeks before the next assessment.” Captain Fowler informed the room full of police officers and detectives.
“Lucky man!” Someone joked.
“Do you want me to shoot you?” Someone else joked back. Connor shook his head slightly. He was sitting in one of the front rows and playing with his coin.
“For the time of Lieutenant Anderson's absence, detectives Reed and the other Anderson will join forces as temporary partners.” This sentence stopped him in the middle of another coin knuckle roll. Gavin Reed, from the other side of the room also did a double take, surprised.
“Is this a joke?” Connor could hear him say.
“No, detective Reed, if you have questions about it, you can come by my office. Both of you, actually.” Fowler glanced at them. “Briefing concluded.”
Everyone scattered to their tasks leaving the two detectives of course immediately following the captain to his office. Gavin gave Connor a dirty look when they met at the door.
“I think there was a mistake” He spoke once inside.
“I assume you’re not happy, but I will not be making any changes.” Fowler greeted them. “We have a lot of cases to get through and cannot allow ourselves to stall.”
“Sir, I can work alone.” Connor stepped forward. “I am sure-”
“No, you can’t.” Fowler cut him off. “You’re still not allowed to carry a weapon. There’s a legal hell and a lack of proper procedures if you use force during an action, not to mention situations where you get… hurt. Some places don’t even want to allow androids inside and the tensions on the streets are high. You have to be accompanied by a human detective.” Gavin scoffed at that. “And our currently un-partnered human detective that could use assistance is detective Reed.” Fowler finished. “I expect nothing less than professionalism and care for your fellow officer.”
Yes. Every other day something or someone had to remind the androids they were far from full integration into society. Alive, as it turned out, was not enough yet. Everyday someone debated whether alive did also mean dangerous. Additionally Connor was still under observation since the footage of him aiming at Markus at the gathering was leaked out. General acceptance of him among colleagues grew, but the police is all about rules and bureaucracy. Officially the lieutenant was not only his partner, but also a supervisor evaluating an officer facing potential disciplinary suspension. Hank, naturally believed the additional reports to be a waste of time, and started copypasting the same positive message into each one. Fowler accepted them, he was right about the procedures though. If Connor suffered any significant damages then what. Should he be supplied with new parts by Cyberlife, with police paying for them? Did the parts even exist for a prototype series? Last time it was Jericho’s charitable help that took care of his repair - Connor knew the payment they should get for it was still lost somewhere in the slowly grinding capitalist gears. The concern wasn’t entirely unfounded, Connor just doubted Reed would be the good person to keep him safe.
“Sir, I can solve the case without the help of an android.” Gavin protested.
“And with his help you can do it faster.” Fowler remained unconvinced. Connor stood in silence, equally unhappy as Reed, maybe only hiding it better. “Do any of you have practical questions about the nature of this arrangement or can we move on to the case?”
“Does that mean detective Reed is also tasked with my evaluation?” Connor asked, dreading the answer, and by the look on Fowler’s face, rightfully so.
“Yes. That would mean that.” There was sympathy in his voice.
“Oh great.” Reed reacted. “I’m to tell you if he is fit for this work? I can tell you right now!”
“Calm yourself.” Fowler ordered. “I know your ambition, and your good results, but they don’t free you from following orders. You are partners now, and there’s a murder of an android you need to look at.”
The human and the android left the office and stood for a moment in silence.
“Well. In this case I can only hope for our cooperation to go smoothly.” Connor made an attempt, extended a hand, metaphorically. “We should agree to bury the hatchet. Temporarily.”
“Nice try.” Gavin replied. “You have to tag along, but I hope you will keep out of my way, and if you need extra motivation to do so, remember about that report I will be writing. I never needed any artificial crutch and I don’t need it now. You hear me?”
“I hear you.” Connor said with resigned frustration. It’s been exactly 18 times Gavin told him that since day one. The number, he estimated, will at least double.