Chapter Text
Connor no longer has a mission, but he needs to do something to help. Help his people, help Hank, help Markus. The coin in Conner’s hand flies through the air in a flash of silver. Markus shouldn’t have asked for that kind of help though, Conner thinks and lets his coin dance over his knuckles. But Markus wouldn’t have asked Connor, if he saw another way, he is certain.
“Hey, space cadet, you’re still with me?” the lieutenant asks and gestures widely in front of his face. This keeps happening to Connor, some stray code, letting him drift off. Hank called it daydreaming, but Connor has no dreams.
“Sorry lieutenant, I was running some calculations.” It’s not a lie per se, Connor thinks, as he sits up straighter in his chair and lets his coin slip into his pocket. He was calculating his rate of success in the back of his mind, dividing only minimal processor power to the task. He already knew the outcome. He can’t do what Markus asked him to do, at least not without help.
“I know when you’re lying. Cut it out.” Hank replies.
“How so?” Connor asks, treating water. The lieutenant rolls his eyes and points a finger at his own head.
“Ah.” Well, that is unfortunate. The other androids have gotten rid of their LEDs under Markus, but the thought of cutting the small circle out of his face makes something inside of him twist in uneasiness. Its the same thing he felt when Hank wanted to know why Connor is still wearing his old CyberLife uniform to work.
“There’s something I’ve been meaning to talk to you about.” Connor admits and musters his fingers to avoid Hank’s gaze.
“If it’s about you moving some place else again, hold your breath. I’ve told you it’s fine. You can stay. It’s not safe outside.” Connor feels the need to argue, to tell Hank that he is more than capable of taking care of himself. But he falters, Hank is also right. It’s not safe for androids to be alone in the city. Things are still too heated, the government still playing catchup with current developments.
“It’s something else.” He answers instead and Hank raises an eyebrow at him.
“Does it have to do with our missing android cases?” Hank asks. The lieutenant and Connor are the sanctified android-experts at the precinct now. Connor would be pleased, if it didn’t mean that he and his partner had to work most of the android cases alone. The two of them make little progress. People don’t really seem to care about androids that go missing in the dead of night, or leave their human families four months after the revolution. That unwillingness to help aggravates Connor.
“It’s about a missing android, but not in the way you think. Markus contacted me this morning over the interlink when we were getting ready for work.” Connor explains.
“And you didn’t say anything?” Hank glances at the clock display on his computer screen. “Damn it, Connor. It’s almost three.”
“It- I didn’t know how to proceed until now.” Connor admits, and that is something new too. Ever since his deviancy reeled its head his speech patterns changed. He cuts sentences now, he stutters, sometimes he is lost for words. Connor feels like all his determination went out of the window ever since Markus’ revolution took place.
“Fancy way of saying you didn’t know what to do.” Hank translates, he’s becoming rather good at it. “What’s he want you to do?”
“Steal something from evidence.” Connor admits.
“What? Why?” Hank asks, he sounds wary. His eyes roam over to their colleagues, but no one notices.
“He’s not involved in any criminal activities, if that’s what you’re worried about, Hank.”
“Stealing evidence is something criminal. For fucks sake, what’s Markus thinking, coming to you with something like that?”
Connor shrugs, his shoulders barely moving. “I’m in the ideal position working in law enforcement. It’s only logical that he came to me.” That’s right, the DPD has to pay him now. At least that was what Fowler promised him would happen in the foreseeable future. Connor isn’t so sure. The government just passed a law that allowed androids to register as citizens, after passing a standardized test to determine their deviancy. Hank called the Empathy test a scam envisioned by CyberLife and lobbyists, that forces androids to proof if they are deviant enough, when Hank reassured Connor, they don’t have to proof anything. Connor hasn’t subjected himself to the test yet, but he plans on doing so soon regardless, so he can eventually acquire ID and an official working permit. It’s four months after the revolution, he isn’t even a real person yet, not in the eyes of the government. How long will it take before he’s actually allowed to walk down the streets of Detroit without fear?
“That’s no excuse to use you, Connor.” Hank sounds angry and that surprises him. Neither Markus nor Connor have done anything incriminating yet, so why is the lieutenant upset already?
“It’s about the android that shot itself on the Stratford Tower.” Connor pauses for a breath he doesn’t need.
“It’s- he’s called Simon, he was one of Markus’ inner circle.” Connor manages. There it is again, his speech unraveling. The memory file downloads on its own accord: Daniel, no, somebody else with Daniel’s face. Dying, while touching Connor, making Connor die too. It wasn’t real, he has to remind himself. The fear, Simon’s fear, is just an echo in Connor’s system. He didn’t die on the roof of the Stratford Tower.
“Markus is kindly asking for his remains to be released in the hope that they can restore the PL600 model back to full functionality.”
“That android is still alive?” Hank wants to know.
“I never told you the details of how I figured out the location of Jericho. The PL600 was in the evidence room with me. I managed to reactivate it. It didn’t want to help me, but still it responded. There is a chance we can reactivate and repair it.” Connor’s insides feel cold when he thinks back on it, even though his systems are perfectly calibrated in accordance with his current surroundings. It’s something else he overlooked, didn’t care for enough. He could have gone back, right after he returned to Hank, to figure out if he could be of assistance to the PL600 and the other androids in the evidence room. He didn’t, it didn’t cross his mind. Now he wants to fix it.
“So there’s actually a chance that its still alive. Just waiting for someone to come and get it.” Hank sounds dubious.
“I’m not sure if its even awake and aware of anything at the moment. As I said, the possibility of it stabilizing its condition before entering an energy saving mode are very slim, especially after all the time that’s passed.”
Understanding enters Hank’s face. “If its still alive we have to check it out. We can’t just leave it to die. Fuck, Conner, why didn’t you say anything?”
“I repeat-” but Hank cuts him off with a gesture. “No, not this morning. Why haven’t we checked on the androids in evidence before?”
Conner feels something in his face switch, he hates how his emotions dictate his expressions so easily now.
“I didn’t think of it.” Conner admits and looks at his desktop instead of Hank. A second passes, before he feels Hank’s hand brush his shoulder briefly. The lieutenant is already sitting firmly back in his seat when Connor looks up.
“You had a lot on your mind these past few weeks. You can’t think of everything, Connor.”
“I was built to collect data and solve problems, Hank. I should be able to think of everything.” His stress levels are rising, 28%, going up. He knows his LED is flashing yellow. 33%, he wants to close his optical units. 36%, the image of Amanda flashes before his eyes.
“Sure, you’re a damn tin can.” Hank says and rolls his eyes. “But you’re also a person and to human is to err, or something like that.” The comment makes the corner of Connor’s mouth rise. Stress level subsiding. He realizes that Hank made him smile.
“Thank you, Hank.” Connor says and feels how some of the tension leaves the synthetic muscles in his shoulders.
“So what do we need to do to get that android?” Hank asks.
“We break into the DPD warehouse where the evidence is stored.” Connor answers and Hanks reaches over their shared desk to hit at his arm.
“Can you say that any louder?” Hank hushes him, when Connor opens his mouth.
“God, and they tell me you were built to be stealthy. You’re as subtle as a blunt knife, boy.”
“Apologies.” Connor says.
“You’ll ruin my career.” Hank replies, but his eyes sparkle and he lets out a small laugh.
Connor is happy, he thinks, if the warmth unfurling in his chest is anything to go by. But there’s also the solemn afterthought of the PL600 lying stored away in a dark cold warehouse, maybe aware of his hopeless situation. The happiness mixes with something else. Nowadays it’s always a mix.