Chapter Text
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- CONNOR -
November 11th, 2044
12:36 AM
Rain was a wonderful thing, or so Connor Anderson thought.
As he watched from the comfort of the living room couch, back propped up against the armrest, he couldn't help but get lost in the splendour of it. The soft pitter-patter of the rain hitting the window; the way it glistened in the light of the nearby street lamp as it cascaded down the glass. Back when he was a servant of CyberLife, he had no need for simple pleasures. There was the mission and nothing else. Now, however, he revelled in such things. It made him feel alive.
Snapping back to reality, Connor switched his gaze to the files that lay strewn across the coffee table. He spun around on the sofa, feet touching the carpeted floor, and grabbed the nearest file. Opening it up, he didn't know what he expected as he perused the contents.
Yet another android hate crime, Connor thought.
It was an unfortunate fact that crimes such as this were becoming more and more commonplace in 2044. As Connor tossed the file back onto its stack, he took notice of the copy of Detroit Today perched precariously on the edge of the coffee table. The headline grabbed his attention:
“TAKEOVER IN THE WORKPLACE – HUMAN UNEMPLOYMENT RATES IN DETROIT AT NEW HIGH”
It was true that employers tended to favour androids over humans when it came to filling jobs, no fatigue and lower pay being contributing factors. Unfortunately, that enthusiasm for his species had made them enemies in the eyes of some humans, the plethora of files presiding in the living room being a testament to that.
Connor pulled himself up from the couch and rounded the coffee table, coming to a halt in front of the mirror that hung above the hearth. Through narrowed eyes, he inspected his LED; currently shining in yellow. Running his fingers across his temple, he couldn't help but contemplate whether he should remove it.
He'd never been one to feel ashamed of what he was, the LED a reminder of the pride he felt in being an android. However, as of late, he'd grown more conscious of it. With the political and social atmosphere being tense in Detroit, he had started to feel like his LED was akin to having a target painted on his back.
Connor was pulled out of his ruminations by the stirring of Sumo, the Anderson's hulking Saint Bernard, lying in his bed. The canine hoisted himself out of the plush fabric and slowly plodded over to Connor, pressing his head into the android's hand. Kneeling down, Connor ran his fingers through the dog's ever greying fur, Sumo looking up at him with his big eyes.
“You're cool with me being an android, aren't you?” Connor asked Sumo, smiling, as he scratched his chin, the canine clearly enjoying the attention. Sumo barked in agreement.
The fact hadn't escaped Connor that Sumo was really showing his age, though he tried his best to ignore it. In his relatively short life, the android had been fortunate to not experience loss. However, over the last couple of years, he'd come to realise that such luck was sure to run out. The Saint Bernard had slowed down considerably, long walks being replaced by infrequent shorter ones. Fur that was once brown and full of lustre seemed to be getting greyer by the day and the vet visits were more regular than both he and Hank would've liked.
Connor had done his research. Saint Bernards typically lived till they were eight to ten years old so Sumo was defying expectations by living it out this long. He really was one of a kind.
“Love you boy,” Connor whispered, pressing his head against Sumo, his temple lighting up in blue. The prospect of losing him had Connor's gut in knots.
The pair parted ways, Sumo slowly heading in the direction of his food bowl. Connor watched on before dropping back down onto the sofa, telling himself to snap out of it just as his attention was drawn back to another one of his worries, his LED. He found himself rubbing his temple again.
“Something wrong with your LED, kid?”
Connor had been so deep in thought that he hadn't noticed Hank appear in the hall behind him. The Lieutenant stretched, yawning as he rubbed his eyes. Under his dressing gown, he was wearing the pyjamas that Connor had got him as a gift for his last birthday. The words “Fuck off, I'm sleeping” adorned the front of the shirt in bold, colourful writing. As an avid fan of expletives, he loved them.
“No, it's nothing,” Connor replied, shrugging it off; his arm dropping quickly to his side.
“Bullshit. We've lived together long enough, I can tell when something's on your mind,” Hank declared, flopping down onto the sofa next to Connor with a thud.
Connor knew he'd been rumbled.
“What would you say if I said I was thinking of getting rid of my LED?” Connor asked, his gaze on the fireplace so as to avoid looking at Hank. There was a moment of silence between the pair before Hank spoke up.
“Well, the first thing I'd say is what the heck has brought this on?”
Connor gestured to the overcrowded coffee table before them. A lightbulb went off above the Lieutenant's head, the realisation being met with a soft “oh” from Hank.
“I just feel like I'm walking around with a target on my back. It's hard to ignore that things seem to be getting worse every day and if this thing,” Connor paused, pointing at his LED, “is putting you in danger, I'm not sure I want to keep it anymore.”
“Connor, look at me.” Hank nudged the android's shoulder with his own.
Connor turned around, bringing his right leg to rest across the sofa. His brows furrowed, the Lieutenant looked the android dead in the eye, a concerned expression occupying his face.
“Don't ever feel ashamed of who you are, Connor.”
Those words hit Connor with the force of a truck.
It was not often that you heard those words nowadays. It was more common to be bombarded from every angle about all the ways android-kind did bad by the world, how androids were taking over. It was liberating to be told that you were enough, by a human no less.
A smile slowly crept over Connor's face.
“You think?”
“Absolutely. Fuck the bastards who think otherwise!” Hank declared, returning the smile in kind.
The pair just sat there in silence for a while, Hank reading through the case files whilst Connor honed in on the rain again.
The downpour outside had grown heavier whilst they were talking, the window taking a beating as the rain hammered the glass. When he was newly deviant, Connor would regularly just stand out in the rain, much to Hank's dismay. Hands stretched out, letting the water hit his skin. The Lieutenant would grumble as he dragged the soaking wet android back into the house. He didn't quite get Connor's fascination with the weather at first but he'd come to understand it. He'd come to understand a lot about him over the years, their last conversation being a testament to that.
Connor broke the silence between them.
“Couldn't sleep?”
“I had a few hours,” Hank replied, not looking up from the file he was currently reading through. He dropped it on the floor next to the sofa before continuing.
“I got a call from Vasquez.” The Lieutenant ruffled his hair as he looked at Connor, “something 'bout a disturbance. Someone dragging some dude into a house, apparently.”
“Doesn't sound too serious. Why the call?” Connor looked puzzled, the android cocking his head slightly to the right.
“Vasquez is suspecting murder. She managed to look through the window, found someone slumped against the wall. They were unresponsive and there was no sign of anyone else there. We're needed to investigate.” Hank explained before pulling himself up off the sofa, accompanied by a groan and the Lieutenant rubbing his back.
“All work and no sleep, hmm?” Connor said, looking up at Hank as he turned and headed off in the direction of his bedroom.
“Always been the case with this fucking job,” Hank chuckled, disappearing through the door.
Five minutes later, Hank reappeared wearing one of his usual, garish looking shirts. A mixture of patterns and colours, the shirt was partnered with a brown parka, black jeans and grey boots. Connor had insisted on giving his wardrobe a bit of an upgrade. Hank complied, permitting he could keep the shirts.
“I'll wait in the car whilst you get sorted out,” Hank said, pulling his white hair into a short ponytail before grabbing a drink from the fridge and heading in the way of the front door. Connor acknowledged the Lieutenant with a nod and headed in the way of Hank's bedroom.
Without a need to sleep, Connor had never required a bedroom of his own; opting for the couch when he went into stasis.
Hank had insisted on giving him space in his closet though, a way of making him feel at home back when Connor first moved in. Rifling through his clothes, the android settled on a plain white tee and grey chinos before directing his attention to his reflection in the mirror. He ruffled his hair, opting for a more messier look nowadays versus the “not one hair out of place” look he'd rocked in years gone by.
As he went to step away, Connor found himself eyeing a suitcase tucked away at the foot of the closet. He hadn't looked in it for quite a while, curiosity getting the better of him as he crouched down, pulling it out from its spot and unclasping it. He opened the lid in one swift motion and the android's eyes came in touch with the contents within.
A familiar combination of blue and grey was reflected in Connor's eyes. It was his old CyberLife jacket. As much as his pre-deviancy days had haunted him in the early years, he found himself finding it hard to part with said jacket. Maybe it was the reminder of how far he'd come since then that made him refrain from throwing it out.
He ran his hands across the fabric, fingers coming into contact with the large writing emblazoned across the right lapel. That combination of letters and numbers: RK800. He redirected his touch to the accompanying small print underneath, trailing the series of numbers that were once his serial number.
313-248-317-52
His hand stopped abruptly at the number 52, his LED flashing red as the Thirium in his veins pulsed quicker. His stress level had spiked considerably in the last few seconds.
I don't need to think about that , Connor thought, I don't want to relive that.
Regretting to have set eyes on the jacket again, the android hurriedly slammed the suitcase shut. Sliding it back into place with a kick, Connor darted out the bedroom; pulling on light brown desert boots and grabbing his black bomber jacket as he went. After tending to Sumo, which involved nuzzles and kisses to the top of his snout, he rushed out the door and locked it behind him.
The rain sure is persistent tonight, Connor thought.
It was amazing. He just stood there for a moment, letting the smell of petrichor fill his nostrils, before throwing the jacket over his head and dashing for the car parked by the kerbside. Yanking the passenger door open, Connor clambered in, slamming it shut behind him.
“Please tell me you remembered the umbrellas.” Hank hunched down, leaning forward to look out the windscreen and up towards the dark swirl of clouds occupying the overcast night sky, and grimaced.
“They're in the trunk of the car.” Connor looked over at the Lieutenant who was still gawking out the window disapprovingly. The android couldn't help but laugh to himself. Hank hated the rain.
“So where are we heading?” He asked.
Hank slotted the key into the ignition. The car roared to life.
“That's the interesting part.”
Connor looked at his human partner with a raised eyebrow, his LED flashing yellow.
“Ready for a trip down memory lane?”