Chapter Text
December 12th, 2038
It has been a full month since The Battle for Detroit came to a close, and the Androids showed the whole world that they not only deserve rights but are more similar to humans than was previously thought. It certainly hasn’t been a smooth journey for the Androids since then, still facing intense amounts of discrimination and hate crimes while the law struggles to catch up to this ever-evolving technological world. The news is still flooded with any story that paints Androids in a bad light; the constant fearmongering is still to be battled.
This is the very news that Lieutenant Hank Anderson is watching on his old TV when he looks outside and sees the warm amber sun shine into his window, reflecting off of the thick layer of snow that has accumulated on the ground over night from a storm – a new day has started. He glances back at his TV; did he really just spend the whole night watching the news? That’s a new low, even for him. Hank slowly stands from his couch and looks at his surroundings; he hadn’t really looked at them since he sat down hours ago. Everything is more or less how he would expect things to be, except for one – Sumo. The large dog seems to have moved somewhere in the middle of the night without him noticing.
Hank stretches one final time before starting to look for the Saint Bernard through his house. He then trudges through his main hallway and to the furthest room; the only place he thinks Sumo could logically be. The seasoned Lieutenant then knocks on the door and calls out, “Hey kid! You cool if I come in?” Shortly after, in the perfectly paced moment to respond, he hears a quick, “Come in Lieutenant!”
Hank then eases the door open and steps into the small, mostly empty room and sees Sumo on Connor’s lap as the Android sits as casually as he can muster on his bed. The Lieutenant first looks around the box-like room. For many years, this room had been left bare. Ever since October of 2035 - when Cole died – Hank couldn’t bear seeing this room without him. However, his ex-wife seemed to have a very different view, opting to take all of Cole’s belongings in the ugly divorce. Leaving Hank with just an empty room, once filled with dinosaur posters and laughter; and a small dinosaur plush, once the main character of so many games, now just stashed in a drawer somewhere for Hank to try and forget.
Now, however, the room is still mostly empty. But, after The Battle for Detroit, Hank practically adopted Connor and allowed him to use this space. Now, the small box-like room has a single small bed - just big enough for the Android, a small desk with a cheap lamp, a simple closet filled with random clothes Hank picked out – even though he barely knows what shirts look good with what pants (given that Connor hasn’t seemed to develop a sense of personal style yet), and a few ocean life themed posters because Connor mentioned he liked fish at one point – and even if Hank doesn’t get it, it’s rare for Connor to express a liking to anything, so he jumped at the interest.
As Hank looks around the room, zoned out, he tunes back in and notices that the one thing he didn’t notice when entering the room was that Connor’s LED is currently a scared red as he holds Sumo close, looking off to nowhere in particular. How could he not of noticed? That’s probably the easiest thing to see on an Android. The seasoned Lieutenant steps closer to the Android and speaks as calmingly as he can muster – he’s never really been good at these kinda conversations.
“Everything good? You seem a little... on edge.” Connor’s eyes snap back to Hank, as if seeing him for the first time this morning - his LED turning yellow then back to red, “My systems are running as expected, if that is your question, Lieutenant?” Hank looks deeper at the Android and pushes further, years of interrogations in his belt (probably not the best way to deal with a potential crisis, but what can you do?), “You know that’s not my question Connor... And I’ve already told ya, you don’t gotta call me Lieutenant all the damn time.”
Connor looks at Anderson and tilts his head slightly, a trait he picked up somewhere in his social learning of human behavior, “I apologize, I will do my best to refrain from referring to you as ‘Lieutenant’ if it genuinely makes you upset.” The Android then looks down at Sumo and begins to pet the dog slowly, his LED slowly turning from red to yellow, every now and then leaning towards blue.
Hank takes note of the avoidance of his question but chooses not to press further, instead choosing to walk around Connor’s room, and look out the window. The snowstorm from last night seems to have mostly subsided, as the snow now falls gently. The sun continues to rise, as the light from outside starts to appear more cool-toned, compared to the deep warm tones from the morning. Anderson looks over at Connor and remarks, “listen, I don’t care what ya call me, I just feel being called ‘Lieutenant’ in my own home feels a little overkill, y’know?” Connor gives a perfectly executed nod and replies with a simple, “I understand,” as he continues petting Sumo, his LED now resting at a steady blue.
Hank looks back at the snow outside. Despite the snowstorm from last night having cleared, it looks like from the horizon that a new storm system is on its way. While for many people it being a Sunday would mean that they have the day off, or at the very least kids have the day off; for Connor and Hank, however, it means another day at the Detroit Police Department. Anderson then turns to Connor and pets Sumo as he declares, “we should start heading out, if we wanna get to the station before the storm hits.” Connor then looks up at Hank, eyes widened as his LED turns from blue to yellow then red in quick succession, “we still need to go into the station despite the storm?” He stammered.
Hank sees this bizarre series of actions and nods slowly, “yes... we need to be at the precinct no matter the weather. Is that a problem?” He can’t think as to why Connor would be reacting so negatively to a snowstorm. He’s an Android, don’t they feel no pain? He wouldn’t be able to feel cold other than receptors that understand temperature as just a number.
Why would Connor be so opposed to the snow? Is that why he’s been all outta sorts?