Chapter Text
“Connor. Stay here.”
Connor stopped, one foot on the lower step of the mansion’s covered porch, and stared at Hank’s broad back. A few potted hanging plants swung in the light breeze; their dried leaves rustled loudly in the android’s audio-processors.
A moth bounced into the bug light disguised as an antique lantern.
A zap—a burnt smell, and the moth burst into charred pieces.
“Lieutenant—
“I said, stay.” Hank spoke without turning to face Connor; a thick puff of condensation wisped away into the slight nighttime breeze with each word.
“I don’t understand.” Connor smoothed the front of his new shirt. He’d torn his old one during a chase last week. And he didn’t have any housekeeping software that included sewing. He’d purchased a new one, but kept the old shirt hidden in a plastic bag under the couch.
Hank finally turned from the open front door. His face—framed by a sharply trimmed beard—was stern and there was no kindness in his blue eyes. The weight he’d lost over the past few weeks had done away with the padding that had softened his firm jawline. The rotating lights from the squad cars parked haphazardly along the street highlighted the sharp angles of his face.
It was difficult for Connor to reconcile the identity of the man he’d first met in Jimmy’s Bar with the visual data.
Hank set a hand against Connor’s chest and gave the android a firm push, sending him stumbling off the lower step he’d been balanced on. “Do not follow me.”
Connor re-established his balance with a rapid gyro recalibration. He frowned at the bits of freshly cut and crunchy grass now sticking to his newly polished dress shoes. He had just finished cleaning them from the last crime scene he’d visited. He dismissed the concern and lifted his head to meet Hank’s stare with one of his own. “I was designed to investigate crimes—
“I don’t care. I don’t want you coming in here.”
Trying to ignore the anomalous cold that swept through his thirium lines, Connor decided that Hank couldn’t be serious and he mounted the steps again.
Hank’s voice was harsh. “Did you hear me?”
Heeding the unspoken warning, Connor stepped back again and crossed his arms. “Yes. But there’s nothing wrong with m—
Hank held up his index finger. “Stay.” He bent his finger to point at Connor. Then he turned once again to enter the house.
Connor uncrossed his arms and started forward; Hank had changed his mind before. Connor’s footsteps echoed against the faux decking.
“Connor.”
Connor stopped.
Hank turned around. He gave Connor a suspicious glare.
Connor blinked and stood perfectly still. Staying.
“If you see Reed…tell him I said to stay out too.”
“Okay. If I see him—
“Don’t play words games with me. You’re staying out here. Don’t make me order someone to make sure you’re obeying. We’re too short-staffed for that sh—t. And remember to tell Reed.”
“He won’t lis—
Hank gave Connor a firm stare. “You gonna stay?”
“Yes.” Connor crossed his arms and stepped back.
“You gonna tell Reed?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” Hank gave him one more ‘look’ and then disappeared inside. Connor heard him barking orders at someone to ‘make sure they stay out.’
Connor tapped his fingers against his arms. “Then why call everyone out?” he asked the wilted flowers dying in a box planter on top of the porch railing. “If we aren’t allowed to help?”
He knew it was a homicide case, but the identity of the victim and the details of the case were being withheld from anyone below the rank of lieutenant. The house belonged to one of Detroit’s wealthy socialites and philanthropists—she’d worked closely with the Jericho androids after the revolution.
But that didn’t mean the house owner was the victim. She could be a perpetrator. Connor leaned to try and catch a glimpse down the hallway he could see from where he stood. From what he could see and scan, everything was like the decking, fake—from the Persian-style carpets to the wood paneling to the large Van Gogh reproductions lining the wall.
There was an officer, Connor didn’t recognize him, guarding the hallway. Connor started a scan, but the man waved at him and disrupted the scan. Connor lifted his hand in acknowledgement.
The officer responded with a ‘shooing’ motion.
“The phck y’doin’ere?”
Connor set his mouth in a line. He would be professional and calm. He turned as he spoke, “Not working obviously.” His voice came out quick and cold as he confronted Gavin.
One foot forward, Gavin had frozen mid-step. He set his foremost foot down, slid it back, and held his position at the top of the porch steps. A pause but not a retreat. “Move.” Unlike the other officers who’d chosen to wear their cold weather DPD jackets and gloves, Gavin still wore his hooded jacket and his hands were exposed to the rapidly chilling air. He either didn’t know or didn’t care that his skin was blotchy red and purple from the cold.
“Lieutenant Anderson gave orders that you weren’t to enter.”
“That I’m not…” Gavin paused for a second. “What?…Get the hell outta the way.” He attempted to shoulder Connor aside, but Connor stepped directly into his path. Their shoulders collided and Gavin jerked backward.
Connor ignored the low body temperature readings he’d picked up from the brief contact. He couldn’t even get Gavin to listen to him about direct orders. Why would Gavin ever listen to him about something like cold weather safety?
“Lieutenant said—
Gavin jabbed a finger at Connor’s chest. “Y’think I care what ‘e says?”
“Back up,” Connor warned. Gavin was so close that Connor’s surface sensors could track the rapid changes in the human’s eyes as the pupils contracted and dilated according to the man’s emotional instability.
“’r what?” Gavin’s dark eyes fixed on Connor. “Whatcha gonna do, eh?”
Connor noted the dried blood on cracked lips and a thin scar that cut from around the back of Gavin’s ear and across the base of his throat.
“I’ll follow my orders.”
“Yeah. Do that. Phckin’ robot—
Connor didn’t even preconstruct his next action. He shoved Gavin backwards. He’d seen the officers, including Hank and Gavin, push suspects and civilians and even other officers for one reason or another. He also knew that many crimes were the result of aggressive and thoughtless actions—
He grabbed the front of Gavin’s jacket to keep the human from falling off the porch and potentially suffering an injury.
Gavin broke Connor’s grip with a downward strike against his wrists that was powerful enough to send damage reports skewing across Connor’s vision.
Connor released his hold, and Gavin stumbled backward, down the shallow porch steps. He didn’t fall entirely, but his foot landed hard on the edge of the step; and Connor saw a flicker of pain mix with the ugly expression currently twisting Gavin’s unshaved and sleep-deprived features.
He braced himself for the retaliation, but Officer Collins, who had anticipated the confrontation and hurried to intervene, stepped in. He set a hand on Gavin’s elbow; Gavin jerked away, stumbling to ground level.
“The hell you want?” Gavin lashed out at the newest target. “I get called all ’way down ‘ere middle the night an’ then told not t—
“They made a mistake,” Officer Collins said. “You weren’t supposed to be called in—
Gavin threw out his arms and kicked the bottom step he’d tripped off. “The phck fer? Think I can’t do m’job? Think that thing’s better just ‘cause it’s wearin’ a suit an’ tie?” He pointed at Connor. “Think that ol’ drunk washed out—
“Take that back!” Connor snapped.
Gavin’s forward lunge was halted by Officer Collins’ arm. “You gonna make me?” He snarled past the officer’s arm.
“I could!”
“Jus’ try it!”
“Lieutenant Anderson wants to handle this case himself,” Collins spoke over the argument. “It has nothing to do with either of you.”
Connor and Gavin both turned to stare at the older man. Collins crossed his arms. “Okay,” he amended, surrendering to the silent interrogation from the two detectives, “it does. He doesn’t want either of you involved.”
Whatever Gavin had to say was lost in a jumbled mess of confused expletives and a rambling resume of his ability to work any and every case any time any place.
“Ain’t like anyone else’s gonna—
“Do you know why?” Connor interjected. “I’m sure he has a reason, but did he tell you?”
“I don’t think—
“Stop harassing Ben,” Hank’s sudden appearance drew the attention of all three. “Reed, shut up and go away. I don’t want you here. You shouldn’t have been called out in the first place. Go,” he repeated and pointed Gavin, who had crossed his arms, away.
“Y’can’t—
“I can and am.”
Muttering invectives, Gavin slunk away from the scene.
Connor watched him depart to ensure that the stubborn human didn’t lurk around until he had an opportunity to continue his arguments.
“You too, Connor. Git.”
“I—what?” Connor turned a surprised stare on Hank. “Why? I wasn’t doing anything wrong. I did what you said.”
“I didn’t say fight with Reed.”
“That’s not fair!” Connor argued. “You said—
“I know what I said. And it didn’t involve telling you to get into a brawl in the front yard of a crime scene.”
“I—
“That’s enough. Go back to the station or the house—not this one,” Hank pushed Connor away, “My house.”
“You’re taking me off the case?”
“You were never on it. Now, go.” Hank kept a firm hand on Connor’s shoulder and pointed him away with another light push. “Take the car. Call a cab. Whatever. Miller!” He shouted to the patrol officer who was lingering on the edges of the yard, flicking his mini-flashlight beam at small rocks and tufts of weeds.
“Yes sir?”
“Stand at this door. Let’s see if you can do any better than these idiots at keeping the peace around here.”
Miller shot Connor an apologetic look as he replaced him on the porch, guarding the doorway. “Sorry, pal.”
Connor shook his head. “You’re being unfair,” he tried to defend himself to Hank again, but he was again cut off.
“Go.”
Holding his responses in his mouth, Connor stamped off the porch and crossed the large yard to wait at the property’s front gate for the cab he’d just ordered. He stood there—a small figure, LED red, arms crossed, glaring at the trash bins and watching the developing frost creep across different surfaces as the temperatures continued to drop.
“Ben,” Hank gestured at his old friend, “C’mon. I need to talk to you.”
“Hank,” Ben said without moving forward. “They’re not children. You can’t protect them like this. It’ll just make them resentful and frustrated.”
“I don’t care,” Hank snapped. “I’m not making them deal with this sh—t. Not now. Reed’s exhausted as it is, and Connor….”
“He’s a detective,” Ben said without clarifying whom he was speaking about. “There’s not much left that can—
“You think I don’t know that?! It doesn’t mean—
Hank cut himself off and held a hand over his face. He took a deep breath and started again, calmer. “Connor’s been having nightmares. I think it has to do with,” he waved a vague hand, “with all this. He won’t take leave, so all I can do is order him off site to work on something less…you know.”
“Nightmares?”
“Yeah, I know. We all get them. But…I don’t know….Connor’s been…..well….technically he’s new at all this—
“Uh…I thought he was an android detective….made for this?”
“Right?” Hank shrugged helplessly. “But I think since the whole….deviancy thing….he’s taking it differently now. I just…he wakes up screaming….and I just want to….” Hank shook his head and rubbed his face. “I don’t know.”
“Ease him into the job?” Ben suggested. “Like for a rookie.”
“Yeah. Exactly.”
“No offense, but if that’s your goal,” Ben shook his head. “There’re better ways of going about it.”
Hank bristled at the criticism. “Sorry if I can’t be uselessly subtle like you. At least I’m trying to actually do something about it.”
Ben clenched his jaw. “You threw two experienced detectives off a difficult case. If anyone’s being useless—
“Ah…sirs?” Miller spoke up from behind Hank. Before he could continue, Hank turned on him.
“The hell you standing there for?!”
Miller didn’t flinch, but his stoic expression also hid his usual friendliness. “You told me to watch the door—
“Obviously not when I’m having a private conversation! Go stand around somewhere else!”
“Yes sir,” Miller edged past the two officers and got himself out of sight.
“You don’t have to take it out on him. He’s a good kid.”
“Who? Chris? I wasn’t.”
“You just did.”
Hank leaned against the porch railing and stared at the dying flowers. “When did this get so hard?”
“Probably once you started realizing that you aren’t the center of the universe.”
Hank glared at Ben. “The hell that’s supposed to mean?”
Ben sighed. “You’ve always been like this…that.”
“No. I’m not the man I used to be—
“Stubborn, opinionated, control freak, Mr.-My-Way-Or-The-Highway?” Fowler exited the house and stood glaring at both his officers.
“Thanks for softening it up for me,” Hank muttered.
“Watch it,” Fowler warned. “I get what you’re doing,” he added. “You’re cleaning up your act. But—
“Are you gonna lecture me now too?”
“For having an emotional breakdown that resulted in you chasing off three valuable resources that I wouldn’t mind having available to clean up this mess of a murder scene? Hell yeah I’m gonna lecture you.”
Hank glared at Fowler. “Not having an emotional breakdown.”
“Sure sounded like it from in there.”
“Sh—t. You heard?”
“Yeah. You surprised?” Fowler gripped Hank’s shoulder. “I know it’s difficult—
“The hell do you know about it?”
“You think I think it’s easy coming back? Finding the people you used to know aren’t the same? Places gone? People gone? Standing on the outside and watching life happen like it’s not yours? Like you’re a stranger? You really think I don’t know what that’s like?”
Hank’s shoulders dropped and he shook his head. “Sorry, Jeff….I shouldn’t have—
“You’re doing good. You’re getting better, but don’t push yourself into unfamiliar territory just because it looks like someplace you’ve been before, okay?” Fowler placed a hand on Hank’s shoulder.
Hank nodded. “Nothing stays the same does it.”
Fowler slapped Hank’s shoulder and shook his head at Ben. “We weren’t supposed to have this conversation here.”
Ben shrugged. “Bar was out. And all of us meeting at someone’s house would’ve been weird.”
“Guess there’s never really a good time or place…you okay, Hank?”
“You planned an interventions? I…I’m not that bad.” After a brief silence, Hank heaved a sigh. “I got some apologies to make, don’t I?”
Fowler shook his head. “That android’s your own business, but leave Reed alone.”
Ben nodded his agreement. “Give him time and space.”
“I know, I know.” Hank’s smile was only in the corner of his mouth. “At least he’s never changed.”
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