Chapter Text
Connor’s eyes slowly fluttered open to see that he was in his room. It was mostly dark, but through the drawn curtains of the window, a line of light peaked through from outside. His internal clock read that it was currently twenty minutes past noon. He’d been in stasis for almost nineteen hours, longer than was necessary for his repairs to finish. He ran a quick diagnostic scan to check the status of his systems. His thirium levels had depleted slightly - now at 90% - due to his self-repair program, but otherwise everything came back as optimal.
He sat up in bed, grateful to feel no residual pain in his head or chest as he took in a deep breath. He also noted that at some point Hank had put his favorite hoodie on him. He was grateful for the comforting softness and far preferred it to the tattered mess that his sweater had become. Not to mention the hoodie wasn’t coated in his own blood.
A cold feeling settled in his chest like the ghost of a hand brushing across his biocomponents. A shudder worked its way down his spine as he tried to shake the feeling off. He was home - safe, he reminded himself. He forced himself to focus outwards.
He took in the soft texture of the hoodie pressed against his chest, and the plush duvet underneath his fingers. There was a lingering warmth from the blankets - Sumo must have been in there recently - that further relaxed him. From the rest of the house, Connor could hear the faint drone of the TV and smell reheated pizza. He stood up and left his room, entering the rest of the house. As he appeared in the entrance to the living room, Sumo looked up and gave a quick bark before trodding over to him. Hank, who’d been sitting at the table with his leftover pizza also looked up.
“Glad to see you awake, son. How’re you feeling?” he asked as he took a bite of the greasy meal. Connor would have to scold him about that later. Instead, he crouched down to scratch Sumo behind the ears.
“I’m…” physically everything was repaired, at least mostly. The patch on the side of his head had almost completely absorbed and would finish by the end of the day. By all accounts, he was fine but- a small tremor ran through him. He didn’t feel right. “I’m better,” he settled on, though from Hank’s expression it was clear he’d taken too long to respond. Connor stood up and Sumo let out a huff in protest. Connor entered the kitchen and grabbed a bottle of thirium from the fridge before taking a seat across from Hank.
“Everything fixed?” Hank asked.
“Yes,” Connor responded, easier now. It was less abstract and had a clear, concrete answer. He unscrewed the cap off of the thirium and took a long sip. Though his systems had long since stopped overheating, the cooling sensation was pleasant. A few moments of silence passed while Connor finished his thirium and Hank finished his pizza.
“Any updates on the case?” Connor asked. He had already been determined to bring the person doing these horrible things to justice, but now that he had become personally affected, that need to put an end to this increased.
“Nothing yet, but they’re working on it. Fowler passed it over to Ben until we get back,” Hank responded. He was perfectly capable, but this was Connor’s case. It felt wrong to be away from it.
“We could always-”
“We’re not going to the station today,” Hank interrupted him. Connor frowned, crossing his arms over his chest.
“How did you know what I was going to ask”
“You’re a workaholic,” Hank rolled his eyes.
“I just feel that…” Connor pondered what would have the best chance of convincing Hank, “I’ve taken a long enough break and there would be more progress if we returned.”
“Sleeping in late doesn’t count as a long break. And besides, it’s already one, might as well enjoy the rest of the day,” Hank said.
“We don’t know how much more time we have before… things get bad,” Connor said, pursing his lips. Hank sighed, meeting Connor’s gaze with an unreadable expression.
“I know that, but it’s not like nothing is getting done. And Ben isn’t the only person working on this, he’s just leading the team. Fowler knows this is serious, he’s got enough people on it. They’re not slacking off or anything.”
“I didn’t say they would slack, just that we could speed up the process,” Connor tried again.
“We can go back to work tomorrow, okay? But let’s just take the rest of today to take a real break,” Hank said, getting up from the table. It wasn’t exactly what Connor wanted, but it was better than Hank insisting he just completely give the case up for someone else to handle. Hank had paused on the way to the sofa and now looked back to Connor. “I only just got you back, let me enjoy that for a bit. Now come on, let’s watch some shitty TV.”
Connor smiled lightly at the warm feeling in his chest and got up to join Hank on the sofa. As they sat down Sumo also hopped up, settling himself across their laps. Connor reached down and began to strike his hand through the large dog’s fur while Hank searched for something to watch. Eventually, they settled on a classic film from the late 90s that Hank said he enjoyed as a kid. It featured a dog, a St. Bernard just like Sumo which drew in Connor’s attention.
Overall it was a rather silly movie, but the lighthearted nature of it combined with the weight of Sumo’s head on his lap helped him to relax. As much as he wanted to jump right back on the case, it felt good to have this time. Sitting at home with Hank and Sumo - his family - eased the tension that had knotted his systems since being captured.
Home was everything that place was not. Home was warm and comforting and most of all, safe. It didn’t have crazed criminals digging around through his body or his mind. And even though it was over, those sensations still crept back in every so often as he tried to relax. The sensation of fingers brushing over his thirium pump regulator, tickling the delicate wiring that surrounded it. The loss of control as a foreign presence reached into his processors and flicked through his thoughts and memories with searching eyes. He was jolted from his thoughts by a hand nudging his shoulder. The movie on the screen was paused, and Connor turned his eyes to Hank who was watching him with a concerned gaze.
“I’m not going to push, but if you need to talk… I’m here,” was all he said. Connor opened his mouth to automatically respond that he was fine but stopped. Insisting that everything was okay when it clearly wasn’t hadn’t done him any favors before, and the chance of Hank believing him was abysmally low. Maybe it would work out better to take Hank up on that offer. It had helped before. Connor frowned, eyebrows furrowing as he tried to think of the best way to explain what he was feeling.
“It’s like I can still feel him,” Connor said, watching his hand stroke through Sumo’s fur while he talked. “He wanted to find the best way to hurt me, so he did a memory probe. I didn’t expect it to feel so… intrusive. I didn’t have any control while he looked through my processors, my memories,” Connor said quietly. Tension radiated off of Hank next to him.
“And when he put the bomb in,” Connor continued, still keeping his eyes downcast, “I was awake the whole time. I could feel his fingers brushing against my biocomponents, and” he cut himself off as he felt his stress level rising, “it doesn’t make any sense, it’s over and I’m here… but it’s like I can still feel it happening,” his hand which had been stroking Sumo’s head stilled and he could see the barely perceptible tremor going through it. Hank let out a long breath and then pulled Connor into a snug side hug. Connor leaned into the comforting warmth of it.
“That sounds really fucked up,” Hank muttered. Connor almost laughed at the simplification but had to agree. It was fucked up. Not really knowing what else to say, Hank pressed play and the movie resumed. He didn’t release his hold around Connor and the android relaxed against him. The warmth from both Hank and Sumo, and the pressure of Hank’s arm around his shoulders gave his sensors something else to focus on. Something real and tangible that overrode any phantom sensations. It was grounding.
The rest of the afternoon managed to pass by in relative peace. The movies Hank picked were oddly comforting, maybe because they were so simple. As night came upon them though, Connor decided it would be best to head to bed. They both needed rest so they could be ready to return to work the next day. Hank tried to insist they could take an extra day off if Connor needed, but Connor declined. All he wanted was to catch Max once and for all and put an end to the suffering he’d caused before he could hurt anyone else. With determination slowly covering up his lingering nerves, Connor went to sleep.
Hank was awoken bright and early the next morning, courtesy of Connor who burst into his room at exactly six. Hank groaned, throwing a hand over his eyes.
“Hank, we should start getting ready for work, we have a lot to do,” Connor said, hovering near the bed. Hank peeked out from under his arm to note that ‘we’ really just meant Hank as Connor was already dressed and ready to go. He also noted the way the android’s fingers twitched for something to fidget with while he awaited Hank’s response. Hank groaned and pushed himself into a sitting position.
“Alright, alright. Just go take care of Sumo, I’m getting up.”
“Right,” Connor nodded, calling for Sumo to follow after him. Sumo stretched and jumped off of the bed to follow Connor out of the room. Pushing himself out of the bed, Hank went to his closet to get dressed for the morning. He didn’t think much about it as he grabbed a brightly patterned shirt and some pants. It was an hour before he normally bothered to get up, but he could tell that Connor was anxious to get back to this case and for once didn’t want to make him wait. The kid had enough stress already. Once dressed, Hank left the bedroom.
The smell of coffee filled the kitchen when Hank entered and Connor was already pouring him a cup. Handing the cup over to Hank, he pulled his coin out of his pocket and began spinning it across his fingers. At the other side of the room Sumo crunched away at his food bowl. Hank took a sip of the hot coffee, allowing it to slowly wake him up.
“Do you want me to make you anything?” Connor asked. He was leaning against the counter and trying to look nonchalant, but his continued fidgeting betrayed his nervous energy. Shaking his head, Hank set down the coffee for a moment to grab a banana from the bowl on the table.
“Nah, this’ll be enough,” Unpeeling the banana, he took a large bite before picking up his coffee again. For a few moments, the only sound that filled the air was Sumo’s crunching and the metal tink of Connor’s coin bouncing off his fingers.
“You sure you’re good to go in today?” Hank asked. Connor glanced over at him, then returned to watching the coin as he flicked it between his hands.
“Yes,” he responded. Hank took another bite of his banana but kept his gaze held on Connor. Connor caught the coin, stuffing it into his pocket. “Really, I promise,” Connor added. Hank let it go, choosing instead to finish his quick breakfast. Whether Connor was lying or not was yet to be seen. Hank would just have to keep an eye on him.
“Let’s head out then,” Hank set his empty mug in the sink. They left the house and once in the car, Hank cranked up the radio to its preferred booming volume. Connor seemed to also appreciate the distraction of the music and they enjoyed an uneventful drive to the station.
Upon arriving though, everything was chaos. Those who worked the graveyard shift had yet to leave and officers with dark bags under their eyes rushed around with various files clutched in their arms. Fowler, noticing their arrival, opened his door and shouted for them to come to his office.
“Jesus, we just got here and already he’s on our asses,” Hank muttered but trudged over to the office. Connor trailed close behind him.
“It must be important,” he said. Hank glanced over his shoulder before entering the office.
“It better be.”
They stepped inside and Fowler gestured for them to take a seat. Hank sunk down in one of the chairs in front of the desk. Connor took the other seat but sat much straighter than Hank, though whether it was from tension or formality Hank wasn’t sure. Fowler didn’t sit, choosing instead to stand behind his desk. For a few moments, he just looked out over the bustling bullpen and said nothing. With growing annoyance, Hank was about to make a snarky comment, but Fowler turned back to them.
“This morning we located your perp, Max,” he said. Hank gaped and he noticed Connor’s LED flash yellow from the corner of his eye.
“Shit, really?” Hank asked, leaning forward in his seat. Fowler nodded, letting his gaze shift between them.
“We haven’t made a move yet. This has been your case from the beginning, making you two the best to finish this out,” Fowler said.
“Where is he?” Connor asked.
“Things are a bit more complicated than just going to his house and doing the arrest,” Fowler frowned, “Right now he’s holed up in an office building downtown. He has hostages and is threatening to blow up the whole building.”
“Ah, fucking hell,” Hank breathed. Of course, it couldn’t be a simple arrest. This bastard just had to make things difficult.
“I assume someone else is at the scene now?” Connor asked. Fowler rolled his eyes.
“Obviously. Ben is doing what he can right now, but you two need to get over there. Connor, you were built to be a negotiator, so deal with this before he can kill anyone else. Get moving,” Fowler said, waving them off.
“Got it,” Connor stood up and abruptly left the room. Hank scrambled to follow behind.
“The address?” Hank turned his head over his shoulder as he reached the door. Connor was already halfway to reception.
“Already sent it to him. Go,” Fowler said. Hank pushed open the door and jogged to try and catch up with his partner. He made it to Connor just as the android exited the building. He had to speed walk to keep up with Connor’s brisk pace.
“Jesus, wait up, I can only go so fast,” Hank said. It was like Connor didn’t even hear him as he continued on his path. Arriving at the car, Connor slid into the passenger seat and was already starting it up by the time Hank was pulling open the other door. Hank typically preferred to drive, but it would be pointless to argue that to Connor and the android had the address anyways. The tires on the car squeaked as he backed up and took off down the road.
“You better not get us in a wreck,” Hank muttered, gripping the handle above the door like his life depended on it. Connor’s eyes flicked over to him for a second before returning focus to the road. The car continued along at a marginally less breakneck pace.
Even so, they pulled into the office parking lot in record time. There were several patrol cars scattered around the lot, lights flashing. It was oddly reminiscent of the first scene in this god-awful case. The building was roped off with holographic police tape and the DPD had set up an additional perimeter a mile out from the building to keep pedestrians safe. The surrounding buildings were already evacuated along with every floor of this building that weren’t in direct contact with Max.
Despite having arrived, Connor remained seated, hands still gripped tightly around the steering wheel. Since leaving the office Connor’s LED hadn’t stopped flashing a tense yellow.
“Hey,” Hank said, waiting for Connor to look at him. Though he was trying to keep a calm face, Hank could see the fear swimming in his eyes. “We’ve got this. You’ve got this,” he said, keeping his own trepidation out of his voice. Connor nodded, and Hank was grateful to see his LED circle blue once before returning to yellow. They got out of the car and approached the building. The officers hovering around the entrance directed them to the sixth floor where Ben was waiting for them. Much to Hank’s chagrin, they had to take the stairs.
“Fucking stairs,” Hank panted, as they rounded the fourth flight of stairs.
“At least it’s not the top floor,” Connor said from next to him. “Besides, you could use the exercise,” he smirked. It was a little forced and his LED was still spinning yellow but Hank huffed out a laugh.
“Ah, fuck off. I don’t need exercise, I’m in peak physical condition,” Hank retorted.
“Your elevated heart rate would suggest otherwise.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that, it’s six fucking floors.”
“Whatever you say, Lieutenant.”
Their banter came to a halt as they finally reached the sixth floor. Ben was waiting for them when they exited the stairwell. The whole floor had been cleared barring the room where Max was holed up with the hostages and officers from the bomb squad were set up in positions around the floor.
“How long’s he been holed up in there?” Hank asked.
“About two hours now,” Ben answered.
“How are the hostages?” Connor asked.
“Okay as far as we know. But we haven’t been able to get anyone in there. We’ve been talking to him over the phone but… well we’re not making much progress there,” Ben sighed. While he was a good detective, Ben wasn’t a negotiator. Hank only considered himself a little better, hence why Fowler insisted Connor take care of this. He was designed to handle situations like this. Yet, Hank couldn’t help but feel worried. Not because he doubted Connor’s skill but because he didn’t want this psycho to hurt Connor again. But that was Hank’s self-appointed role in all this: to make sure Connor didn’t do anything rash and put himself in unnecessary danger as was his tendency.
“When was your last conversation with him?” Connor asked.
“About ten minutes before you two arrived.”
“And his demands?”
At this question Ben frowned, glancing over to the room where Max was. He looked back to Hank and Connor, “He wants to be pardoned for all his crimes so far. He also wants us to let him leave here without anyone following. But obviously we can’t do any of that.” The second Max was free, he would set off those dirty bombs. But if he blew himself up here, there was no assurance that the bombs weren’t set to go off on their own anyways.
“What do you think, Connor?” Hank asked, turning to his partner.
“Well… If I can get in there with him, I might be able to get close enough to interface, do a memory probe. It would give me a chance to find the location of the other bombs,” Connor said.
“Hell no!” Hank snapped, “You go in there and try to get close and the first thing he’s gonna do is blow this building to bits!”
“If it’s similar to the other bombs then it would only destroy that room, mostly. If we can get the hostages out somehow then-”
“No, no way,” Hank said, shaking his head, “that crazy plan of yours doesn’t account for one very important thing.”
“Well it isn’t perfect, but-”
“You,” Hank jabbed a finger into Connor’s chest, “Think about your own safety in this, I know you don’t want to die.”
“Of course not,” Connor’s eyebrows furrowed, “If I can interface there’s also a chance I will be able to stall his processors long enough to remove the explosives. While I admit he has me beat in physical capabilities, I have a stronger processing power,” Connor explained. Hank didn’t really understand much about interfacing or anything else Connor said, but he knew this was a terrible plan. Not to mention the way Connor described it feeling when Max did it to him; it wasn’t something he should have to go through again.
“You don’t sound very confident in that,” he said.
“Well the chances aren’t great ,” Connor admitted quietly.
“Then we’ll come up with something else, something that doesn’t involve you charging at a guy wearing an explosive vest,” Hank said.
“Fine, I can try talking with him first,” Connor relented.
“Over the phone,” Hank said.
“Yes over the phone,” Connor rolled his eyes.
“Worth a shot,” Ben agreed, “and we’ve also got some snipers getting set up, but they need more time. We don’t have a clear shot at the moment.”
“They need to be careful,” Connor said, “if his processor gets destroyed we won’t be able to find out where he planted the other bombs.”
“I’ll tell them,” Ben nodded, pulling out his radio to relay the information. They needed to incapacitate but not kill.
With at least a rough plan in mind, Ben then handed Connor the phone they’d been using to communicate with Max. A few of the other officers gathered in the hallway looked over, watching, waiting for him to make the call. Hank hovered next to him, ready to take over himself if need be. Then Connor tapped the screen to call the most recent number and the phone rang. It didn’t take long for Max to pick up.
“Well, am I getting out of here?” he snapped the second the call connected.
“Max, you know that we can’t do that until you release the hostages and tell us what we need to know,” Connor answered in an even voice. The android on the other line cursed.
“It’s you. Of course, you’re still fucking alive, great ,” Hank could hear the annoyance in the other’s voice. Again Hank couldn’t help but think that it probably wasn’t ideal that Connor was the one who had to negotiate with this guy, but he was still their best option.
“Isn’t it?” Hank said, and Connor gave him a sideways glance.
“If you cooperate this will go a lot smoother,” Connor said, ignoring both comments.
“I could say the same to you,” Max growled.
“I know you don’t want to die here. That’s all that will happen if you don’t listen,” Connor warned.
“I’m prepared to do what I need to do.”
“Why are you doing this Max? Those people in there with you are innocent, as is everyone else you’ll hurt if you go through with your plan,” Connor said. Max barked out a short laugh.
“Why am I doing this? I should be asking why you’re standing against me.”
“What?” Hank muttered. What did he even mean by that? Of course, they were trying to stop him, he was a criminal trying to hurt innocents, they were the police. It seemed pretty obvious. Connor apparently had a similar train of thought.
“What makes you say that?” Connor asked.
“Those bombs I planted, they won’t hurt androids,” he trailed off for a moment, “You should know what it’s like, Connor. Humans used us like tools against our own kind, why shouldn’t they pay?”
The briefest line of red broke through Connor’s LED and he cast another nervous glance Hank’s way. This wasn’t just an act of terrorism at this point, but now a hate crime. It wasn’t the first they’d faced - androids angry with how humans treated them lashing out. It was the first of this caliber. Criminals like this were unstable, and their hate fueled them to go to lengths further than most. But something about how this sack of shit tried to lump Connor in with himself rubbed Hank the wrong way.
“Connor isn’t-”
“Then why did you kill those androids?” Connor cut him off, giving the slightest hint of a glare. Right, arguing would do them no good. They just needed to keep him talking and buy time.
“It was unfortunate that they had to die, but they were human sympathizers anyways, so I can’t feel too bad,” Max responded.
“How about a trade then?” Connor asked, and Hank got a bad feeling in the pit of his stomach. Whether it was Connor giving Hank another quick glance or the way his LED flashed red for the briefest second, something was up. “Me for your hostages. Since you don’t mind killing human sympathizers,” Connor said.
Hank made a grab for the phone to end the call before any deal could be made or Connor could somehow say anything even worse than that. Connor moved his hand away, holding out his other arm to push Hank back.
“Not good enough,” Max said simply, and the call dropped dead. Connor was left standing there with his mouth slightly agape, staring blankly ahead. Hank snatched the phone out of his hand.
“What the hell was that?” he asked, struggling to keep his voice low.
“Lieutenant, I-” Actually never mind, there was no way Hank wasn’t going to shout. They needed to have this talk somewhere the bastard they were trying to negotiate with wouldn’t hear him. He grabbed Connor by the arm, cutting off whatever he was about to say as he dragged him towards the stairwell. He tossed the phone to Ben on his way out and continued until they were another floor down where he knew they wouldn’t be disturbed before releasing his hold on Connor’s arm.
“What the hell were you thinking, offering yourself up like that!” Hank snapped.
“I was merely trying to ensure the safety of the hostages,” Connor said.
“There are other ways to do that! Protecting others doesn’t always mean sacrificing yourself!” Hank threw his hands up in exasperation. Connor shrank back, his back pressed against the wall of the stairwell. His gaze fell to stare at his feet and more flashes of red broke through the yellow of his LED.
“It’s not that I wanted to be a hostage, Hank,” Connor said in a subdued voice, “I… was scared, but so are they, and… I didn’t know what else to do.” From the hunch of his shoulders to the way he was pressed against the wall it was like he was trying to make himself as small as possible. Hank felt the anger leave him.
“That’s when you need to step back and take a moment to think, son. If he was going to blow himself up without talking he would’ve already done it. We have time,” Hank said.
“You’re right,” Connor admitted in that same quiet voice. Hank hated it, hated how close it felt to his breakdown before.
“Look, I promise, I’m not mad, just worried, okay?” this got Connor to look up at him. His eyes flicked across Hank’s face, as if trying to search for any hint that Hank was lying.
“You should know this by now, I get loud when I’m worried… Just, remember you don’t have to do this alone,” he sighed. Connor looked back up at him, and now it was flickers of blue making their way into the cycle of his LED.
“You’re right,” Connor said again, but this time his voice was closer to its normal strength, “I should rely on you more,” he gave Hank a half smile.
“Damn right, you should,” Hank huffed, and for good measure reached out and ruffled Connor’s hair. Connor batted his hand away before smoothing his hair back down.
“What should we do then?” Connor asked. Hank hummed in thought.
“I don’t think your plan was all bad… just the part where you go in alone,” Hank responded.
“Hank, that's dangerous.”
“And now you see why I didn’t want you doing it. But if it’s humans and androids who are friendly to them that he wants to hurt, then maybe he’ll trade for both of us. I also get the feeling he doesn’t like us very much.”
“He’s angry that his plan to kill us didn’t work before,” Connor agreed.
“That would at least take care of the hostages if this works, but then… well I’m not as sure from there,” Hank admitted.
“Ben said there were snipers getting set up,” Connor pointed out, “if we can get him in position they should be able to incapacitate him long enough for us to remove the bomb and for me to find out where he hid the others.”
“I’m still not sure how I feel about that last part,” Hank said.
“Why not?”
“Well, you told me how terrible it felt last time you did that interfacing thing with this asshole. Isn’t there another way that isn’t as… intrusive for you?” Hank asked.
“It won’t be as bad this time since I’m the one initiating,” Connor said, though he didn’t look fully convinced. “It’s the quickest way, and time isn’t exactly on our side,” he added with a shrug. No, it really wasn’t. They still didn’t know how the dirty bombs around the city were set to activate.
“Fine, alright. Let’s get back up there then and update Ben on the new plan.”
“Okay.” They began to climb the stairs back to the correct floor.
“And promise me you won’t do anything too stupid once we’re in there,” Hank said. Connor looked over, meeting his eyes.
“I’ll do my best.”
They returned to the sixth floor where Ben was waiting for them, still looking a little baffled by everything that happened only minutes before. The nervous energy in the hall had increased in the short time they’d been gone.
“You figure something out?” Ben asked.
“Yeah, but it’s only a little better than what this idiot was trying to do,” Hank tipped his head to Connor.
“Well, let’s hear it.”
“I think we can make a case for him trading the hostages for both of us. Obviously, we’ll have to leave our guns out here but,” Hank lowered his voice, “it’ll give us the opportunity to get him somewhere in the room the snipers can see him.”
“It’s dangerous,” Ben frowned, “but I guess we don’t really have a lot of options right now.”
“Are the snipers in position?” Hank asked.
“Yes, they just need him to move in front of the window. He’s being cautious right now,” Ben said.
“He must be suspicious, even if he doesn’t know for sure,” Connor said.
“We’ll figure something out, but let’s worry about the hostages first. Call him back,” Hank said. Ben dialed the number and like the last time, the phone rang for a few seconds before Max picked up.
“I’m running out of patience here,” he said. Hank took the phone from Ben.
“We have a better offer for you,” Hank said. Getting no immediate response, he continued, “We’ll trade you both me and Connor for your current hostages. You’ll have your chance to get revenge on us for screwing up your plan, and you might have better luck getting the rest of our team to cooperate.”
“And why should I trust you won’t just come in and shoot me?” Max asked.
“We’ll leave any weapons out here, you can search us even,” Hank said.
For a moment Hank worried this conversation would end the same as last time, but he was surprised when Max said, “Fine, you have three minutes. Knock on the door and I’ll send one of the hostages to open it,” before ending the call.
“Shit… that actually worked,” Hank muttered, passing the phone back to Ben.
“I’ll tell the snipers you’re in. Remember, all you have to do is get him in front of a window long enough for them to take a shot,” Ben said. The rest of the officers in the hall gathered, ready to meet the hostages.
“Ready?” he asked, turning to face Connor.
“Ready,” Connor nodded. With that, the two made their way down the hallway to the meeting room where Max was waiting. Hank gestured for Connor to stay behind him, and then knocked. There was the sound of shuffling on the other end before a middle-aged woman with mascara smeared down her cheeks opened the door.
“Come in. Let her pat you down,” Max said. The woman stepped back to allow them into the room. While she patted them down for weapons with shaking hands, Hank took a moment to observe the room and was sure Connor was doing the same.
There were ten hostages in total, counting the woman checking them for weapons. The group was entirely human as far as Hank could tell, but that wasn’t saying much. Many androids had removed their LEDs and changed their appearances following the revolution, so he had no way of knowing for sure. They weren’t restrained in any way, but were still all huddled in a back corner of the room behind the long table in the center.
Max sat on the edge of the table, carefully watching them. He had a rectangular device in his hand with a lever on the side - the detonator for his vest most likely. The vest itself looked like something straight out of a movie, covered in wires and dimly flashing lights.
There was only one window in the room directly opposite of the door. It was large enough, taking up about a third of the wall, but blocked halfway by blinds. He hoped that wouldn’t become a problem, but since Ben didn’t mention it he decided he wouldn’t worry about it either. Besides, the snipers weren’t going for a headshot anyway.
“Th-they’re clear,” the woman stammered, stepping back from them. Max gave her a cold stare before jerking his head to the corner of the room with the window.
“You two, over there. The rest of you get out before I change my mind.”
Hank and Connor crossed the room to stand near the window. The hostages stood hesitantly and then all at once scrambled for the door. Max made no move to stop them except to tell the last one out to close the door. They did, leaving Hank and Connor alone in the room with Max.
The military android sneered at them, a look of utter contempt on his face. Hank returned the look, glaring right back at him. Connor was standing next to Hank, and the lieutenant resisted the urge to step in front of his partner.
“I’m really tempted to just fucking blow us all to pieces after the trouble you two caused me,” Max said.
“So why don’t you?” Hank retorted. Maybe taunting this guy wasn’t the best option, but Hank was pissed and never really one for holding his tongue in the first place. Max let out a harsh sigh - a deliberate show of frustration given androids didn’t really need to breathe.
“There’re still some things I need to take care of,” he answered.
“The other bombs you set up?” Connor asked.
“Yes, I would rather be alive to see those go off. It will be, interesting,” his face twisted with a smile. Hank exchanged a look with Connor. The way he’d worded that, it didn’t sound like Max needed to be alive to set off the dirty bombs, just that he wanted to watch. There was no knowing how much time they had left, but they should really hurry this along. But how to get him by the window? Right now he was keeping a careful distance away from them.
“Interesting?” Connor spoke up, taking a step closer, “you realize more than just humans will be harmed? You will also be hurting androids who have nothing to do with humans, who don’t even like them.”
“It doesn’t matter who gets hurt in the crossfire. All that I care about is accomplishing my goal,” he said.
“What goal? To hurt as many people as possible?” Hank asked, also taking a subtle step forward. Getting closer to Max did not seem like a good idea, but if Connor had something in mind - even if it was something as stupid as rushing the guy with a bomb vest - Hank wasn’t going to let him do it alone.
“To make humans like you pay,” Max took a step towards them, pointing a finger at Hank. He could see Connor trying to shift closer in the corner of his vision, and decided he’d do the best he could to keep Max distracted in the meantime.
“Humans like me? What, old people?” Hank smirked. Max glowered at him, clearly not enjoying the flippant response.
“No,” he spat, “people in power who use others because they’re too pathetic to do it themselves.”
“You know, most of us don’t go blowing up cities because our boss gave us busy work,” Hank said. Max took another step forward, fists clenched at his sides. Hank could almost hear the plastimetal grinding together. He was pushing his luck a little here and there was a good chance the android was about to lunge at him. But in his anger, Max had turned nearly all of his focus on Hank.
“You wouldn’t fucking understand the things I’ve been forced to do,” he snapped.
“Was someone forcing you to kidnap those innocent androids?” Hank asked.
“That’s not the point!” he shouted. Taking advantage of the now fully distracted android, Connor shot forward, striking Max hard against his right shoulder. The detonator previously gripped in his hand clattered to the floor. Continuing the momentum, Connor shoved him back, giving Hank the chance to scramble forward and grab the detonator from the ground.
Face twisted in rage, Max charged at Hank. Connor intercepted, pushing Hank back and blocking the incoming blow. Hank stumbled into the wall, and could only watch as the two androids exchanged blows. Connor was on the defensive as Max struck out at him, only lashing out himself when Max made movements to try and go for Hank.
Still, he was slowly forcing Connor backward to the wall. But, Hank realized, it was intentional. He looked at the window and subtly grabbed the string to open the blinds all the way. He waited, watching nervously as Connor dodged blow after blow. It felt like forever but in reality, took less than a minute for them to reach the window. Hank yanked the string, pulling the blinds fully away from the window.
Confusion flashed across Max’s face for a second before the glass pane shattered. Blue blood exploded from a wound in Max’s neck and he collapsed onto the ground. A grating mechanical sound came from the downed android but he didn’t move.
Recovering from the shock of the moment quicker than Hank, Connor crouched down next to Max and snatched up his arm. Hank watched as the skin around their arms receded and Connor’s LED began flickering in a rapid yellow pattern.
Max was still awake, continuing to make that awful mechanical sound as he glared up at Connor. Hank carefully set down the detonator before going to crouch on the other side of the android. He looked incapacitated, but Hank wanted to be ready to restrain him if necessary.
“Shit… what’d they do to him?” Hank muttered.
“Severed the connection between his processor and body. I don’t have long,” Connor muttered distractedly. His eyes flicked back and forth as if rapidly reading through something. Actually, maybe he was reading something. Hank was never fully sure how android minds worked.
Hank resisted the urge to ask further questions, not wanting to distract his partner anymore. Even without Connor’s warning on time, Hank could tell that Max didn’t have long by the rapidly growing puddle of blue spreading out under him. It made Hank wonder if androids had something similar to a carotid artery in their necks, at the rate Max was losing blood. Hank reached out and clasped his hand over the wound in an attempt to slow the blood flow and buy Connor some more time.
At the effort, Max turned his hateful glare on Hank. His mouth was moving as if he was trying to say something, but all that came out was a static-filled scraping sound. The door to the room opened at that moment, and the men who’d been waiting out in the hall along with Ben entered. The other detective took in the sight, cursing lightly under his breath.
“Anything yet?” he asked.
“Working on it,” Hank responded for Connor. They waited, the silence in the room only the sounds coming from Max. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Connor pulled back. His LED flickered yellow a few more times before he turned to face Hank, a grim smile working its way across his face.
“I got the locations.”
A collective sigh of relief went through the room, followed by the pinging of phones as Connor sent the locations to everyone.
“Good work, son,” Hank clapped him on the shoulder with the hand not covered in Max’s blood. He wiped off the excess on the now-dead android’s jacket.
“You too,” Connor returned. Hank smirked, and they stood up.
“We’ll take it from here, you two should report back to Fowler,” Ben said. Hank nodded and waved the man off as he left with the bomb squad. A few of the other officers lingered behind to deal with the body, but Hank and Connor left. Thankfully with the threat taken care of, they could take the elevator down now.
“Everything alright?” Hank asked as they rode down the elevator. Connor’s eyebrows were just barely pinched and his LED hadn’t stopped circling yellow.
“I’m okay, this just… reminded me of my first assignment,” Connor responded. Hank raised an eyebrow.
“Ortiz?” he asked, recalling their first case together. Connor shook his head.
“Before I was sent to the DPD, my first field test was a hostage negotiation. His name was Danie. He was a domestic android and fearing his family would get rid of him, he held the child in the family, Emma, over the roof,” Connor explained, a distant look in his eyes.
“Shit, what happened?” Hank asked, even though he wasn’t sure he wanted to know.
I gained his trust and they killed him,” Connor said. The elevator reached the bottom floor and they stepped out.
“Field test?” Hank asked.
“I was activated that afternoon, just before the negotiation. It was a test to see if I was ready to be fully deployed,” Connor explained, still with that distant look in his eyes.
Not knowing what else to say to that, Hank just said, “That’s fucked up.”
“It was,” Connor agreed, shaking his head lightly. They had reached the car now.
“Hey,” Hank said, waiting for Connor to focus on him, “This time was different, right? There was no other way.”
“I… You’re right,” Connor said, and his LED finally returned to a calm blue. “I wish it could have gone differently, but you’re right.”
“Of course I am,” Hank smirked, opening the door to the car. Connor got in and Hank went to his own side. “Once we report this to Fowler then we can finally be done with this fuckin’ mess,” Hank said.
“A break would be nice,” Connor admitted.
“There you go, finally learning to relax,” Hank gave him a lopsided grin. “I’ll tell him when we make the report, we’re taking the rest of the week off.”
“That seems like a bit much,” Connor said.
“Not at all,” Hank scoffed, “we deserve it.”
“If you say so.”
“I do,” Hank twisted the key in the ignition, starting up the car. This case had been a total shitshow from the beginning. He still hadn’t had Connor back home long enough and he’d rather take some time off to just be with the kid than immediately jump back into work.
“Sumo will enjoy having us home for a bit,” Connor said.
“You’re easy to convince,” Hank chuckled.
“Thank you, Hank,” Connor suddenly said.
“Hmm? What for?” Hank asked.
“For looking out for me, for caring,” Connor said. He was looking at Hank with those overly earnest puppy eyes of his. To save himself from anything too sappy, Hank just reached over and ruffled Connor’s hair.
“Always, son.”