Chapter Text
"I'm sorry, I really don't mean to be rude. I just… I can understand why I've been transferred here. I would have loved to stay in the east DPD precinct, but with everything that's going on I won't complain about that. I get it. What I don't understand is why I'm being put on android cases. I don't have any experience working with androids. Isn't there someone here already that's more qualified than I am?"
You widen your eyes, asking earnestly, even though you know the plea in your voice is obvious. You'd known that this was going to be a fruitless endeavor before you even started talking, but you have to try . You can't just sit by and let this happen without complaint.
The exhaustion is clear as day on your new captain Jeffrey Fowler's face and you know he's in no mood to hear any of this. The aftermath of the android revolution has caused everyone in the police force- no, everyone in the world to have lost days of sleep as the situation unfolded and the aftermath has been even worse. You can't remember the last time you've gotten a good night's sleep in the past few months either. But this particular situation is growing more and more ridiculous by the minute.
Now that androids are free and considered to be citizens of the United States of America, you'd known that a lot was going to change. Especially within the force. But you hadn't been expecting much to change for you specifically. The eastern district of Detroit was even more riddled with crime than any other district in the state. You'd seen a fair share of android related cases in your career as a detective and you'd seen the number of those cases climb higher and higher over the past few years but those weren't cases that you handled.
You handled the normal human street crime, the armed assaults and robberies, the grand theft auto, the homicides, the sex crimes, and the red ice epidemic that was spreading into more and more impoverished hands with each day.
Androids?
You've only dealt with blackmarket android part sales and red ice production. That hardly made you qualified.
This whole situation of dealing with android crimes now that they'd been given basic human rights only a few months after the revolution was way out of your jurisdiction. What the hell were you even supposed to do? Recite their Miranda Rights to them as if they didn't have the entire constitution and every amendment stored in their hard drives before handcuffing them and throwing them in the back of a squad car?
Your name wasn't on a fucking plaque for detective of the year for the past three years in a row to be treated like this.
Captain Fowler sighs like he's dealing with a fussy toddler that's close to getting on his last nerve. Maybe you are.
"I understand that this situation is unexpected. When you were initially transferred here, you were not supposed to be put on android cases. But since the detective who has been handling android cases here is on leave for the next few months, I figured that you were the most capable of handling these cases in the meantime. It's temporary . And you'll be given-" He pauses and frowns which causes several wrinkles to appear on his forehead. "You'll have an android partner to work with that will assist you. It- He was sent by Cyberlife to help assist the department with the android cases and has decided to continue working with us."
You swallow down your rising indignation and force yourself to continue to maintain your composure.
"I have never worked with an android before at my station. I don't know how to- If he's been working here for so long, then isn't there someone else here who would be better suited to work with him?"
Captain Fowler levels you with a glare you're sure he saves specifically for officers that are about to be suspended.
"You've been assigned to work on android cases due to the overwhelming amount of cases that have been coming in since the revolution ended. I'm trusting you with this because of your spectacular record. I believe that you can do it."
Fuck that stupid god damn piece of shit plaque .
"But-"
Your new captain holds up a hand that signals that he's done with the conversation with a grimace and gestures to the rows of desks outside of his office.
"You'll be taking over for Lieutenant Hank Anderson while he's on medical leave. You can use his desk for the time being. We'll set up one for you specifically by the time he returns. Your temporary partner will arrive shortly. You should get yourself set-up in the meantime."
It was a dismissal, clear as day. You don't want to accept it but this Captain Fowler guy seems like he would be the spiteful type. You were already stuck with android cases, you couldn't imagine how it could get any worse and you absolutely didn't want to find out for yourself. So, you straighten your posture, press your lips together so hard it hurts and nod your head.
"Okay. I look forward to working with you."
The words felt ironically more robotic than human but they fall on deaf ears anyway. Captain Fowler was already ruffling through papers on his desk, muttering incoherently under his breath.
You sigh and turn around. This was such bullshit it wasn't even funny. You force yourself to walk out of the office, rather than trying to plead your case again and waste even more of your breath. It was obvious that the decision had already been made whether you liked it or not.
You weren't sure but you thought that you'd heard some rumors about the "android detective" Fowler mentioned, the first of its kind, back when it… he had first joined the force. You weren't sure if it was the same one or not but you were pretty sure that Cyberlife had sent them to the main precinct here. It had sent a shockwave through the entire police force at first. One of the few occupations yet to be overtaken by androids was finally being threatened by a prototype . Which, of course, meant that there was an intention to perfect the model. And an intention to replace even more human jobs.
It didn't particularly scare you. After all, you'd watched enough old sci-fi movies about android revolutions to know that as soon as they became a real tangible thing that slowly became more and more rooted in society, it would only be a matter of time before humans became obsolete. You were just hoping that you wouldn't have to see it in your lifetime. But androids becoming sentient and wanting things like freedom and rights seemed a little better than them realizing that they were better than humans in each and making their goal to get rid of their creators entirely. It all seemed a little less scary when you thought of it that way. They were choosing to try to settle things peacefully when you and everyone else knew that if they could coordinate an uprising they could just as easily coordinate a war. A war that would have a very clear winner.
Still, if you were going to lose your job to an android, at least it was because they were better at the job than you and not just because they had a dick between their legs and you didn't.
… Did an android have a dick between their legs?
You had no idea, and weren't planning to find out anytime soon.
You approached the desk that appeared to belong to Lieutenant Hank Anderson based on the nameplate precariously perched on edge. It was a sort of surreal feeling to be taking over for him, whether it was temporary or not. You'd heard of Anderson many, many times in your career. His legendary red ice bust ten years ago was something that you'd read over and studied so many times that you could probably still recite the details even now. Graduating as top of his class from the police academy, going on to become the youngest lieutenant in Detroit history and then a legendary drug bust to top it all off, he'd been an inspiration for you once upon a time.
At least, he was until…
You had no idea how he went on to be put on deviant android cases and working with an android too after everything, but maybe you weren't so far off about that whole Captain Fowler being the spiteful type. Because how the fuck did that happen?
You take a seat and glance around.
His desk was kind of a mess. Things were strewn all over the place, there was an empty box of donuts and several empty wrappers from candy and granola bars crumpled up that looked like they'd just been set down as soon as Anderson was done with them. There were papers and binders and folders all over the place as well and the whiteboard attached to the desk was decorated with crude mini bumper stickers and other random items you couldn't make sense of. It weirdly looked like some things had been removed recently since there were little boxy outlines of grime and dust on certain parts of the board. Odd.
You take a few moments to clean up the mess and then boot up the computer. You glance at the time. Nine o'clock exactly. It was way too early to be dealing with any of this. You'd gotten a bit turned around trying to find the station from your new apartment that you'd been politely requested - forced - to move into at the last minute so you hadn't even had time to have any coffee. You were definitely going to need some today. Especially if you were supposed to-
"Hello," The sudden voice closer than you expected nearly makes you yelp and you throw a hand over your chest as you turn, startled, to where it came from. "You must be the new detective. It's nice to meet you."
Your eyes widen in shock as they land on the owner of the voice. It's undoubtedly him. The deviant hunter . You saw him on the news standing beside the leader of the revolution, an android named Markus, after the armed forces were commanded to stand down and androids celebrated their new found freedom. But that had been on a tv and it had been snowing and your attention had mostly been on Markus at the time.
Seeing him in person at this distance is equal parts terrifying and equal parts earth-shattering.
All the androids that you'd seen before had well-thought out human proportions, features, and appearances. If you weren't familiar with the different android models and couldn't see their LED it would be easy to mistake any of them for a human. They were uncannily similar in almost every way. But… this android was different . You'd thought the same about Markus when you had first seen him with his skin activated. Maybe it was because you'd never seen any model like Markus or the one standing in front of you now, but it was almost as if there was extra care and attention put into them.
As if someone wanted them to be mistaken for being human. And… an unfairly good looking human at that. What business did an android even have being so attractive?
You must have taken too long to respond, or your blatant ogling had been going on for an uncomfortable amount of time, because the android's processor blinks rapidly as he slightly tilts his head to study you.
"I apologize, I seem to have startled you. That was not my intention. My name is Connor. I'm the android sent by-"
His words stop so abruptly that it startles you, and you watch his processor light flicker a bright red for a split second and then yellow for an instant longer before smoothly reverting back to blue.
"I'm assigned to be your temporary partner until Lieutenant Anderson is well enough to return to work. I look forward to working with you."
Well, that was odd.
If he's going to study you, you're not going to let him get away with it without repaying the favor. You give him a once over; taking in the soft, unscuffed texture of his shoes, the pressed slacks, the starched Cyberlife blazer, perfectly white shirt, and black tie. Then you glance at the freckles on his face, the slight messiness of his quaffed hair, and the largeness of his brown eyes.
You purse your lips.
He had no right being that good looking, at all .
You introduce yourself hesitantly. "Um… I look forward to working with you too, I guess. Do you always talk like you have a stick up your ass? I thought you were a deviant now."
Connor blinks and his processor spins. You've never seen an android's processor spin as much as his in such a short amount of time. You're not even sure if that's normal or not.
"It is true that I have deviated from my programming. I thought I would be polite since we're meeting for the first time." He smiles shyly and your expression turns incredulous. "I'm sorry, I'm still getting used to this. It's my first time being partnered with someone other than Hank. I also initially met him before I deviated. I'm not sure how I should act."
You chuckle under your breath and relax a little. If he's on good enough terms with someone like Lieutenant Anderson to be calling him Hank , it gives you a little bit of hope.
"Well, at least we're in the same boat as far as that goes. I've never worked with an android partner before so I don't know how to act either."
"Yes, we do seem to be in a similar position." Connor nods in agreement, that same shy smile hasn't left his face. You turn away just so you don't have to think about how weirdly natural the expression is on him.
You gesture to the desk beside the one you're sitting at. "Is this your desk?"
Connor walks over to it so that he's in your line of vision again.
"Yes, it is." He takes a seat and shoots you another smile that is probably supposed to be comforting. The desks are pushed against one another so Connor is sitting at an angle to you in a way where he'll almost always be in your sight when you're sitting at the desk. You're not sure if that's reassuring or concerning.
"I read in your file that you've been a top detective in the East branch of the DPD for several years. That's very impressive." Connor offers after a moment. It's obvious that he's trying to be conversational and you're not so much of a bitch that you'll leave him hanging out in the cold.
"Thanks. It's not much, really." You shrug. "I just take what I do seriously and things ended up that way."
"It couldn't have been easy. I think that it's an impressive feat." Connor continues brightly. The praise feels oddly meaningful coming from him. Probably because he doesn't need to say it. He doesn't need to try to be nice to you at all, actually. He's an android that probably has every right to hate humans. But still… the compliment feels nice.
A little too nice, and you're worried that you're going to start blushing if he keeps going on about it.
"So, what happened to the lieutenant anyway?" You ask, smoothly changing the subject. "Captain Fowler just said he was out on medical leave."
Connor's gaze drops and his LED spins violently red for a few seconds before settling in the yellow. You immediately regret asking.
"He was injured in a case that we were investigating. The suspect suddenly jumped out of a doorway while we were walking into his reported residence and attacked Lieutenant Anderson with a baseball bat. Most of the damage was sustained in his shoulder so he needed a small surgery before he could continue working. I'm… regretful that I wasn't able to prevent that incident from happening. I was too far away to intervene in time."
The small smile on Connor's face slips away like it was never there and a distracted frown drags the line of his eyebrows down. It's plain to see that the incident bothers him more than he's willingly giving away. You're not exactly sure what the processor LED means when it changes colors but it's telling more than he is.
"It wasn't your fault. Android or not, that doesn't make you a superhero who can teleport across a room." You say, in the hope that you'll cheer him up a bit.
You're not sure why you even feel compelled to cheer him up. You want to say that he's just an android, but it's hard to agree with something like that when said android is so clearly upset.
Hm. An upset android that you were trying to cheer up . The world sure had been flipped on its ass.
Connor doesn't appear to be very reassured by your words but he nods and the frown disappears.
"In any event, the suspect managed to avoid arrest so we are still searching for them and investigating a string of similar crimes that are likely related. I will review the case with you to ensure that you are aware of the details."
Straight to business then. You should have expected it. You massage your temples, feeling one hell of a headache starting to form and stand from your desk.
"Sure. I'm going to need to get some coffee first, if you don't mind."
Connor looks up at you, processor still whirring as if he hasn't stopped studying you since you met, and maybe he hasn't.
"Of course. Would you like me to-"
"No," You refuse quickly. You may not have understood this whole "androids being alive and having feelings and free will" stuff but you'd always been against the way that everyone always seemed to treat them like personal servants. You had two arms and two legs and you could get your own damn coffee.
"No, I can get it myself. Thanks. I'll be back in a minute."
You turn and walk away before he can argue, navigating through the other desks as you try to find where the break room is. You spot it after a moment, more of an isolated area than a specific room with four walls and a door like it was at your old precinct. You scowl. It's not much of a break room if you can still see your desk but it's better than nothing.
A few people eye you curiously, wondering who the new face in their precinct is but you're committed to not talking to anyone else before you get caffeine in you. With the morning that you're having, there is no telling what could come out of your sleep-deprived and caffeine addicted mouth. You weren't trying to make any enemies on your first day.
Still, some of them probably knew who you were. You'd collaborated with the main DPD branch a few times on certain cases and you were one of the top detectives in the city.
But you could focus on nothing else as soon as your eyes landed on the coffee pot, half full and probably a little burned judging by the smell but... coffee . You practically float over to it and busy yourself with finding a cup and grabbing a few of those miniature creamers and a packet of sugar- you didn't care what anyone said, black coffee was death in a cup.
There were a few people sitting around on the tables in the breakroom but you pay them no mind as you fix your coffee and finally take a blissful sip. You sigh in content when the bitter and dark taste hits your tongue and almost immediately feel a little better. Your headache lessens and you feel a little less stressed. You kind of wish you had a little bourbon to spike it with but just caffeine will do for now.
You take another sip and then turn around to study the precinct. There's a lot of movement this morning, which has probably become a regular thing ever since the android revolution. The tiredness and stress can be felt like a tangible thing in the air. It had been wildly chaotic right after the revolution dealing with stores that had been looted in the evacuations, helping androids get settled, and dealing with people that were vehemently against android rights and even now, months later it was only slightly less of a mess.
And what a mess it was.
You took one more sip of your coffee before deciding that you were ready to jump headfirst into these deviant cases. You weren't happy about it but you weren't going to slack off just because you didn't want to do it. Someone had to and if it was going to be you, then you were going to do the best damn job that you could. You roll your shoulders, trying to get your headspace in the right place to take on the day and start walking back to your desk.
"No, fucking way ," A voice chokes out a few feet away from you. Literally chokes followed by a hacking cough. It makes the gravelly voice sound even more strained but you'd still recognize it anywhere. You cringe, squeeze your eyes together, and pray to all that exists that this is just a nightmare and you'll wake up in your cozy bed in your familiar apartment with a few more hours left until you have to get up.
"Look what the cat dragged in…" The voice continues less partially dying and far more smug. You debate walking away and pretending like you don't hear the person talking to you, but you're not a coward so you turn pointedly and stare directly at Gavin Reed.
You haven't spoken to him in nearly eight years. You'd once seen him a few years ago at one of those police department conferences for the state where they gave out awards and accolades for high performing officers that usually ended in a formal afterparty which ended up with far too many cops not knowing how to handle their liquor. You'd seen him from across the room, glass of brandy in hand, talking to a woman in a dress two sizes too small and had practically sprinted away, telling yourself that the sudden lump in your throat and burning at your eyes was anger over seeing him again.
Now it was just the two of you, a coffee in his hand and you in work clothes that were slightly too tight. You were both adults now, no longer two silly kids in police academy and the difference was night and day. You were both in your thirties, had calluses on your hands from handling guns and scars from being out on the field. Although… the scar on the bridge of Gavin's nose made your chest constrict uncomfortably. That one was because of you.
It was somewhat surreal to know that he hadn't changed very much. His previously lanky frame had filled out over the years and he looked like he'd spent a few too many nights awake judging by the dark circles under his eyes and the cynical twist of his lips. But otherwise, he still just seemed like Gavin. The same rough accent and smug arrogance in both his voice and the way he carried himself. The same scathing grey eyes that didn't even try to hide how judgemental they were. The same scruff on his jaw that you used to-
"I didn't think I'd ever see you strutting around in my precinct like you own the place." His eyes are dark with amusement and it's clear that he thinks you're in his court so he has the upper hand.
You rest a hand on your hip and widen your stance. You're not going to let him intimidate you.
"Well, last time I checked it wasn't your precinct. You just work here." You correct, forcing your expression into careful nonchalance. "And so do I, now. So, I guess we'll be coworkers from now on."
Gavin's mouth drops open at the news but it quickly morphs into a nasty sneer.
"Really? Well, I guess we must have been getting really desperate for help after all if they called you in. What are you working? Petty theft?"
You take another sip of your coffee and turn up your nose at him, glancing around as if you couldn't be less interested in this conversation. Really, you look around because it's becoming increasingly difficult to look at him.
"Actually, I'm taking over for Lieutenant Anderson."
Gavin scoffs so hard that it sounds like he ripped something in his throat and barks out a laugh so incredulous that it makes your hands clench into fists.
"Oh, that's great. That's fucking great . You get to stand in for the deadbeat drunk who can barely even do his job. Did you piss someone off or something? That just screams demotion . Have fun working with the fuckin' plastic prick!"
He laughs again, slapping his hand against his knee and walks away, leaving you standing there gritting your teeth.
" Fucker ," You hiss under your breath. You stand there for a few more moments, trying to pull yourself together. It was hard to believe that even after all these years Gavin Reed could still get under your skin so easily. It pissed you off beyond words.
Eventually, you calmed down enough to walk back to your desk without stomping. You pass Gavin's desk on the way and pointedly ignore him even as he chuckles darkly when you pass. You want to dump your coffee on his head but you're an adult and new to the precinct so you don't want to make yourself out to be some kind of psycho on the first day.
When you sit down heavily in your temporary office chair just beside Connor, you aren't able to hide your frustration anymore and you know it shows plainly on your face as you log into the computer, tapping the keys harder than necessary. You drink from your coffee cup, ignoring the obvious gaze boring a hole into your head.
Without even looking at the android that the gaze belongs to, you speak to him curt and sharp. "Did you send over the files that I need to review?"
Connor doesn't answer for so long that you finally turn your head to glance at him and find that he's already looking at you with a contemplative expression on his perfectly manufactured face and his LED keeps occasionally blinking a blinding yellow.
"Are you… alright?" He asks instead. You hate the concern in his voice. "You seem significantly more frustrated than you were when you left. Did something happen?"
You sigh.
"No." An obvious lie. It's not like you can convince him anyway. He's clearly asking because he knows that something just happened, but you don't want to talk about it. What you want is to talk about literally anything else and the best topic is your new case.
"So, now that I have my coffee you can go ahead with the details of the case. What are we dealing with here?"
Connor stares at you for a moment, LED whirling blue and yellow and blue and yellow until it settles into a calm blue and he seems to let the subject drop. His reaction makes you wonder if he was trying to search for some method to extract the information out of you, he was a detective after all, and decided to give up on it.
"It is unclear at this point if the suspect is a human or an android. I did not get a good look at their face when they fled the scene so I was unable to determine an answer based on visual evidence, but I have reason to believe that it is an android staging the crime scenes to look like they were perpetrated by a human. I believe that the crimes are too precisely similar to have been done by a human, however. There have been confirmed two victims so far, both human and both killed in the same manner. Blunt force trauma to the head, bled to death, and then nailed to a wall."
Your eyes widen in horror and something in your stomach sinks.
"What? Nailed to a wall?"
Connor nods grimly and glances at your computer, causing several images to appear on your screen. They're each equally horrific, but you're able to see what he meant by the victims being killed exactly the same way. The arms and legs are nailed to walls in the same way in each of the photos. It's kind of creepy and sends a chill down your spine.
"From what I have been able to deduce along with the forensics team, the victims have all been bled out while they were alive. The blood doesn't appear to have any purpose and is left to pool and congeal on the ground. It appears to be a form of-"
"Torture," You finish, staring intently at the images. You'd dealt with enough gang violence and red ice deals gone wrong to recognize cruel and unusual violence when you saw it and though this was the strangest that you've seen, it certainly wasn't the worst .
"Yes. Torture." Connor continues, sounding as disturbed as you feel. "It seems that the purpose most likely has something to do with the victims themselves. If this was meant to be a message or a symbolic practice I would have expected for there to be an extra element in the crime scenes. But there's nothing. The victims are beaten with a metallic bat until they are close to death or disoriented then they are nailed to a nearby wall and bled out for what could possibly be days. There is nothing else."
You click around through the files on your own, searching for something that might catch your attention that might have gone unseen. Nothing of note stands out to you other than the positioning of the bodies. When you think of bodies being nailed to anything, you immediately think of Jesus nailed to the cross but the popular depiction of that did not match the position of the bodies. They were stiffly positioned almost exactly to the same perpendicular angles.
Odd, indeed.
"Are there any other clues on whether this is an android or a human?" You ask, frowning. You'd just been complaining about being put on android cases, but what were the chances that this wasn't an android case? You didn't think that you would be that lucky.
"No. The angles of the limbs as well as the nails used to position them are all within one to five degrees of difference. This does seem more possible for an android to achieve but it isn't impossible for a human to do it."
You turn to Connor with a perplexed expression. He meets your gaze evenly.
"Then… why do you think that it's an android?"
In an act that startles you to the core and makes your eyes grow so wide they nearly pop out of your skull, your new android partner shrugs and smiles sheepishly adding in a chuckle for good measure.
"It's just a hunch that I have."
You blink owlishly at him in total and complete shock.
After a moment passes, Connor chuckles softly and shakes his head. It's so human that you have to make yourself consciously remember that he's not.
"I'm sorry, that was a joke. You mentioned that I was too formal before so I thought I would try something that detectives in television shows tend to do. I thought you would laugh."
You do laugh, actually. A stunned, high pitched and slightly frantic sound as you take in how utterly ridiculous all of this is. A detective android acting out a scene like he's in a police procedural because it's funny .
Shit, you needed a drink.
"I-It's… um… it's funny. You did good." You admit finally, and Connor's smile grows wider with pride.
"Thank you. Hank liked that one, too. I was thinking that the two of you shared similar personality traits so it was possible that you may be amused by the same joke."
You raise an eyebrow at him skeptically. Honestly with what you'd heard about Lieutenant Anderson lately, you weren't sure if that was exactly a compliment . But this android did seem particularly close to Hank despite the cantankerous attitude that you'd heard rumors about and he was even telling jokes ! Maybe it wouldn't be that bad working with him.
"Returning to the subject at hand," Connor continues, facial expression morphing back into its neutral state. "In my opinion, it appears that the perpetrator is attempting to make the crime scenes look as though they were carried out by a human. It is needlessly messy and violent, similar to patterns of human related homicide, however it is messy and violent in the same way. Which would be difficult for a human to do. There would be some level of variation if a psychologically ill human were doing this, and they would have to be ill in order to be this brutal."
You nod, listening closely. You could understand his reasoning. Murder born from emotion had a tendency to be sloppy and violent for the sake of violence and carefully planned out murder by humans even if they had a similar MO wasn't going to be exactly the same each time.
"However, if it is an android, usually a murder like this would not happen repeatedly. Many of the cases that I've worked on involved an android wanting to be free from its owner or escape abuse and could be emotional in a similar way to humans. Since neither of the victims owned any androids or frequented any android establishments there has to be something that we're missing. A reason, if you will. This appears to be carefully thought out so something must have put it into motion."
You nibble idly on a fingernail as you think.
"Okay… so that's what we have left to figure out. Were you working on any leads with Lieutenant Anderson before he was injured?"
Connor's led spins a crimson red for a second at the reminder and then eases in a yellow.
"We found where the suspect lived, or at least where they were hiding. It didn't give much insight, though. There was food in the fridge and other human necessities but when the owner of the home was approached afterward they admitted that they had been out of town and dealing with a family emergency and evidence does support their claim."
"Huh, okay."
Out of the corner of your eye, barely seeing it since you were so focused on the computer screen in front of you, you see Connor duck his head.
"I'm sorry that I do not have any other information to share at this time. I had hoped to go over a few details but I must admit that I have been… distracted by Hank's injury. He's still in the hospital."
You turn to look at him, unable to ignore the way his LED keeps rapidly changing colors since you've met him. Now it's a solid red and it makes you a little frantic to fix it. There wasn't much that you knew about androids but you knew that their processor's only turned red when they were under duress. The android in front of you seemed so genuinely concerned about Lieutenant Anderson that it was making you kind of sad. You hoped that just for Connor's sake that the lieutenant would be released soon.
"Don't apologize, Connor." You find yourself saying, tenderly setting a hand on his shoulder. "Being worried about your friend is normal- well for humans it's normal. And it's normal if you're too worried to think straight. That just means that you care, right?"
Connor lifts his head, looking directly at you with an intense look on his face. He looks like he's trying to understand what you said and compute it in some android way that you don't understand. He nods eventually and you watch the red light circle back into a flickering yellow.
"Yes. I do care. I don't want anything bad to happen to Hank. Or to you."
You blink at him in shock and turn away as quickly as you can, dropping your hand from his shoulder, cursing yourself for the warmth blossoming on your cheeks. You are not blushing because some android said something nice to you. What were you? A teenage girl? Ridiculous.
"Let's… um… go through the details of each victim and see if there's anything that we can use to connect them besides the crime scene. They must have something in common if they're being targeted inside of their homes like this."
If Connor noticed the very obvious subject change, he didn't mention it.
.. / .-.. --- ...- . / -.-- --- ..-
By the time late afternoon came around and you'd only taken a small break for lunch, a little too conscious of the fact that Connor didn't eat and not wanting to waste his time, you could recite the current details on the case backwards and forwards. A migraine was pounding at your head from focusing so hard but you didn't half-ass things. If this was the case being assigned to you and people were being hurt, you were going to do your best to figure this out.
Still, you were already exhausted and when you got back to your place you had a shitload of unpacking to do. Just the thought made you groan out loud.
Connor hears, of course, and turns to glance at you.
"Is something wrong, detective?"
You groan again, unable to help yourself now that the reality of just how much you have to do is weighing down on you. There was nothing you hated more than going back to a messy house when you were working on a case. You needed to focus , not worry about what fucking box you'd stuck your second favorite pair of shoes in.
"It's fine," You huff, signing out of the computer. You'll have to print off the case later so that you can make your own notes and ingrain them into your head for easy reference later. Most of your fellow detectives just used their phones or a tablet to do that but you always found that you couldn't remember things easily unless you wrote them down. It was something that you'd found absolutely crucial in the… police academy-
"I just have to finish unpacking my things tonight which means I'll probably be up until the early hours of the morning and I want nothing more than to just lay in my bed ."
You catch yourself and flush, aware of how pathetic you sounded.
"Sorry, I just-"
"I could assist you with that, if you'd like." Connor offers, and his warm brown eyes betray nothing but sincerity. You bet he doesn't need to make handwritten notes about things to remember them, all he needs to know is conveniently stored on his processors or internal memory or something. Androids really were superior to humans.
A stunned silence passes between you two as what he said registers in your brain and you're shaking your head before the words even form on your lips.
"No! No, that's okay. I appreciate it, but you don't have to - really."
Connor's LED flashes yellow briefly and his eyebrows dip a little in an expression that you think is confusion.
"I want to." He assures you. "I'd like to get to know you better, if possible, since we're going to be working on the case together from now on. Besides, if I help then you can go to sleep at a reasonable time. I'll need you at your best, not sleep deprived, to work on this case."
He adds on a wide smirk at the end of his sentence to let you know that he's joking again. At least… you think he's joking. Even if he is, there's probably some truth to it as well. You don't see the harm in it, either. It's important to know your partner enough to be able to trust them and although this android, Connor, seems nice enough you aren't sure that you'd trust him with your life right now. And given what's happened in this case so far, it might just come down to that.
"Um… okay. Sure. Thanks."
Connor grins at you, wide and delighted, an expression with so much unguarded happiness that it makes your heart jump a little so you quickly look away, making yourself look as busy as possible with collecting your things.
.. / .-.. --- ...- . / -.-- --- ..-
Inviting an android into your home is an interesting affair. It's not much different than inviting anyone else into your home really, except you never expected to do something like this, and Connor is polite to a fault.
He makes a point out of removing his shoes at the entrance and immediately compliments your new apartment even though it looks like a tornado hit it and there are so many boxes stacked against the walls to make the small space walkable that you can barely see the place. You appreciate the effort he makes, though.
You walk into the kitchen to grab an energy drink, already aware of how much you're going to need it to get this work done. Packing was exhausting and unpacking was even more exhausting. Your old apartment was familiar and you'd lived there for years so you had grown to like it, but even if you didn't like this one as much there was no debating that it was nicer. It had fucking real granite marble counters for god's sake. You could only complain so much.
"Do you want a-" You begin, turning to glance at Connor over the door of the refrigerator. The words die in your throat as you meet his curious gaze, suddenly remembering that he's an android, and you smile shyly. "Y-you don't… drink do you?"
Connor smiles in a way that seems apologetic. "No. I can, of course. But it does not satisfy a thirst. I'm only able to analyze the chemicals in the organic and inorganic materials that the matter is composed of."
You nod, hating how embarrassed you suddenly feel for even asking. "Right, got it."
"I could also tell you how unhealthy consuming large amounts of caffeine is and how it can cause rapid heartbeat, increased blood pressure, and high levels of anxiety. However, Hank doesn't appreciate it when I tell him that."
You chuckle under your breath and pop the tab on the drink, immediately taking a large gulp of it.
"I don't either."
"Yes, I assumed so."
You were glad that he let the subject drop. You consider yourself a decently healthy person but certain cases require that you drop a few of your good habits for a while or substitute hours of sleep with caffeine. The last thing you needed was someone else nagging at you besides your own mother. It was kind of cute that he thought that he should let you know, though.
"Anyway," You round the corner of your kitchen and take in the stacks of boxes. "Most of these are labeled. You can leave the ones that have bedroom written on them, I'll take care of those. But the rest… feel free to just open them and start unpacking and unwrapping things. I'll let you know where you can put stuff."
"Okay." Connor nods, he approaches the nearest box to him and stares at it for a moment like he's thinking about something. You have no idea what, though, until he steps closer and pulls on the folds of the box ripping the tape apart. You blink in shock, knowing that if you'd tried to do that you would end up ripping the cardboard and the damn tape would still be there. It's impressive but a little unnecessary so you grab the box cutter from the countertop near you and tap his shoulder.
"Here. Use this." You hold the knife out to him.
"Oh... Thank you." He takes the knife from your hand and studies it for a quick moment before he neatly slices the tape from another box stuffed inside the bigger one in a perfect line.
You whistle under your breath and grab a kitchen knife since you don't have another box cutter, getting to work.
Somehow you'd assumed that androids would be colder than the way Connor acts. Never saying anything unnecessary, and only making empty placations to seem a little more human rather than a big piece of metal with complicated wiring and mechanics that make your head hurt just thinking about it. But Connor is… nice. And it's weird.
You weren't expecting talking to him to seem so sincere . His responses didn't feel like a list of possible replies plucked from a list that was applicable to the conversation, and when he said something that you knew was just to be polite it didn't feel any less genuine. You thrived on building relationships and getting to know people, really getting to know them. So, you'd always hated the idea of having to talk to a robot that had nothing under the surface, nothing interesting to give other than what they thought you wanted to hear.
The stories that you'd heard over the years of people taking on android lovers or partners always sounded like they were signing up for some kind of sex doll device for lonely people that actually listened when you talked to it and provided some surface level of comfort. You weren't the type to judge anyone, and hell, there had been periods of your life when you'd been interested in getting one yourself just so that you could carry some kind of long term relationship with someone that didn't end up resenting you for how deeply you cared about your work.
It wasn't like you looked down on it, but you just couldn't understand how something like that could still be satisfying enough to keep around for years. How could someone choose to keep an android partner over a human partner?
It didn't seem so far-fetched now.
Still, maybe androids behaved more similarly to the way that you'd expected before they all deviated but you had a weird feeling that Connor had more or less always acted like this. He was supposed to be a special prototype after all. Although… if you suddenly ran into another model that looked exactly like him you'd probably be beyond freaked out. You hoped that never fucking happened. It felt weird to just ask Connor if there were other models like him, though, so you kept the thought to yourself.
The two of you work in silence for a while, you too focused on your own thoughts and Connor too focused on his task. But eventually, without your TV being set up and not really wanting to listen to music because of the headache still pressing at your temples from poring over the case files for hours on end, the silence becomes a little too much.
"How are you… adjusting to things?" You ask, genuinely curious.
Connor glances at you, holding up a stack of bowls haphazardly wrapped in bubble wrap. You gesture towards the kitchen and he stands to place them on the counter.
"It was difficult at first. It was strange to understand wanting things for myself that weren't related to my mission. For example, keeping Hank safe. He was almost injured in a previous case that we were investigating and I chose to help him rather than chase the suspect. My programming told me at a glance that he had an eighty-nine percent chance of surviving on his own but I didn't hesitate to help him, despite that."
Connor returns to the living room to continue unpacking the box he was working on. You can't imagine what it would be like to know that someone had a high chance of surviving in a life or death situation and making a choice in that instant. You'd go after your partner no matter what. No complicated calculation needed. What kind of monster would leave someone's life up to an eleven percent chance?
"There were many other incidents similar to that, though. All were situations where my normal directive to succeed in the mission was compromised in favor of showing empathy. Empathy is a human emotion, though." He pauses for such a long moment, that you stop unwrapping a vase to look at him. His processor flashes violently between yellow and red. "I suppose now that I think about it, I deviated very quickly. I think my creators were prepared for something to be faulty and for me to fail my mission due to incompetence. I do not think that they were prepared for what happened, instead."
You scoff, turning back to the vase. It's ugly and you honestly should have just pretended that it broke during the move so that your poor good-hearted aunt wouldn't be too crushed that it wasn't in your home anymore. Damn.
"How in the hell could you be a detective and not show empathy?" You snap in disbelief. Weren't the people at Cyberlife supposed to be geniuses or something? "You have to empathize with the criminals you're chasing after just as often as you empathize with the victims. You don't have to agree with them obviously, but you have to understand their motivations so that you can predict what they're going to do next. Or do you have some fancy algorithm for that?"
Connor is quiet for another moment but you don't bother to glance at him, you know he's probably thinking about his response again. You're getting used to it, now.
"You're right. I hadn't thought of it like that." He finally admits.
"Of course, I'm right." You laugh, it's still hitting you that something that big could just be missed entirely. "You inherently have to use empathy to be a skilled detective. Otherwise, you would fail completely or at least just be a really good android bloodhound. They must have known that when they… when they- um, programmed you. It's almost like they were setting you up to deviate from the start."
This time, Connor's silence stretches on for so long that you finish emptying the box that you were working on and steal a glance at him just to make sure he's even still in the room . His movements are so quiet that he could honestly just get up and leave without you knowing. Surprising, considering he's made entirely of metal and probably weighs like a ton .
He's paused with the boxcutter halfway into a box and his LED is pulsing a solid red. He looks like he's malfunctioned or something and if he has, you sincerely hope that repairing him doesn't come out of your paycheck. But you're also kind of worried.
"Hey, Connor? Are you alright?"
He blinks at your voice and turns his head to you slowly. His eyes are wide, wider than they've even been so far and the expression on his face startles you so much you stumble backwards a few steps.
"Ye-Yes." He says, stuttering . Oh fuck, you and your big ass mouth have gone and broken him. "Yes. I'm alright. I think that you may be correct. I was able to speak with Elijah Kamski during the height of the android revolution and he made a few statements that suggested he had something to do with deviants. It's possible that I was not meant to succeed."
Elijah
Kamski
You quickly pick up the remnants of your energy drink and swallow it down in an attempt to hide the reaction hearing that man's name caused you. Of course, he would come up when talking about androids. Of course he would . You walked right into this.
"So, I guess Lieutenant Anderson must have helped you a lot when things calmed down? From the way you talk about him, the two of you seem close."
You couldn't give less of a shit if the subject change was as subtle as a freight train, you needed to change the subject.
Connor seems to appreciate the change of subject as well, his LED spins blue just at the mention of Anderson's name and he returns to the task of unwrapping some of your picture frames.
"Yes, I suppose we have grown close. A better way of stating it may be that we've both grown used to each other. He was very instrumental in helping me realize that I wasn't as closely tied to my directives as I thought I was."
You had no idea what Connor must have done to have Hank Anderson, a man so notorious for hating androids that even you had heard about it, to grow used to him. But… you'd already kind of grown used to him, too, so it clearly wasn't impossible.
"And you said that we were alike earlier? How so? I've never met the lieutenant myself."
"You are rather alike." Connor comments. "You both have a very blunt way of talking that some would consider brash."
"Hey!" You protest. You were a fucking ray of sunshine when you talked to people.
As long as you'd had at least two cups of coffee.
"And you both refuse to accept a compliment. I suppose that would be considered modesty."
You shoot a glare at him, already regretting asking. You hate that you hadn't expected this despite being called similar to Hank Anderson.
"Also, you both refuse to ask for assistance even if it is needed. That would be pride."
" Okay ," You sigh in irritation. "That's enough."
Connor laughs softly and you roll your eyes. Being bullied by a damn android, that's your life now.
"However, I think that you both care more deeply about others than you admit. You both have a kind side to you."
" Okay, Connor! " You snap. "Knock it off, already."
Connor laughs again, louder this time, and the two of you lapse into another comfortable silence as you work. The work is going by fairly quickly with his help. It'll still take you most of the night to finish, but you'll be done at a decent enough time and it's nice to have some company.
You were close with the people in the east DPD branch, after all you'd worked with all of them for years, but those relationships didn't often extend outside of those walls. An occasional lunch or birthday party or department celebration was about it.
Which was fine. You didn't believe in mixing personal and work relationships.
But still, in the rare moments that you found yourself in your apartment and not overworking yourself into the ground, sometimes you were lonely.
"Oh." Connor gasps softly. "You graduated from the same police academy as Detective Reed?"
You turn to him so quickly that your neck cracks audibly and you see that he's holding up your framed graduation certificate. You have no idea how that ended up in that box at all. You'd never hung it up anywhere, hating the memories that poured ruthlessly into your brain every time you saw it, and instead had kept in the back of your closet to collect dust.
"Uh-" You choke on your own words and clear your throat. "Yes… I did. How… how did you know that?"
It's probably a stupid question, but you can't help but ask. It was probably some stupid reason, like Connor had scanned over his work file and just happened to have retained tha-
"I noticed that he keeps a mug with the Academy name on his desk. It caught my attention since the handle was broken and crudely glued back on."
You swallow so hard it burns your throat.
Connor glances back at the graduation certificate, studying it or something and then his curious brown eyes flit back up to yours.
"It seems that the two of you graduated in the same year. Did you know him then?"
Part of you wants to lie. You want to lie and say that you've never met that asshat in your whole life. But you know that Connor would see through it and he probably knows anyway. He's likely only asking to be polite.
"I…" Your nails bite into your skin from how tightly your hand is curled into a fist. Connor's gaze darts down to your hand and you force yourself to relax, even though he's already regarding you with a curious furrow of his eyebrows. "Yes. I did. We haven't spoken since, though."
"Oh. I see." Connor states, still staring at you with that look in his eyes that makes it so abundantly clear that he's analyzing you that you want to force him to look somewhere else. Instead, you just turn away from him.
Thankfully, like seriously thank whatever power in the universe that has granted this android the ability to read the room better than any human that you've ever met, he decides to suddenly change the subject when he speaks again.
"How are you adjusting to things, detective?"
The question still takes you by surprise, and in an attempt to pass it off like it doesn't- and also to clear your head of Gavin , you think about your answer before you respond.
"Fine, I guess. I don't think I'm taking anything worse than anyone else in the department. Or, in the world, for that matter. Things have changed for everyone and I think we're all still playing catch up. I'm a little frazzled to have been transferred from my department and put on this case with an android when I've never worked with one before." You admit, honestly.
"But I think I just need to get used to it. Which doesn't seem as hard as I thought at first."
You smile, unable to help it. This morning you'd been on a warpath thinking some cosmic force was finally getting you back for all those times you sneaked out of the house to go hang around in clubs and bars with a fake ID and scared your parents half to death. Now, you were kind of looking forward to it.
You could have easily been stuck with a worse partner than this android. But… he wasn't so bad.
"I agree. I think this is the start of a beautiful partnership." Connor smirks, and you look at him with wide eyes before you burst out laughing. He's messing with you, again .
"Will you please stop doing that!?"