Chapter Text
You nervously tugged at the sleeves of your constellation-print sweater, entering the minimalist DPD lobby, feeling both panic and a thrilling sense of anticipation.
Usually, you choose no more than one eccentric piece of clothing at a time so as not to stray too far from the formal dress code (which no one except your fellow patrol officers followed, but you still didn’t want to stand out too much). Today you were too nervous, so you didn’t notice that you’d put on this sweater and the boots with beads on the laces.
It was not the problem with some androids that suddenly became a threat to their owners that made you more anxious than usual. It was also not one of your tasks as a press officer. Even though you were nervous, you got used to dealing with your obsessive thoughts and the fear of failing at every new piece of work.
Nor was the reason the tense relationships with some colleagues, who either took your natural friendliness as an invitation to bully you, or couldn’t accept the fact that a young woman was working in a male-dominated field (in 2028, for heaven’s sake).
It still upset you, but not enough to make you feel like a vulnerable child exposed to the world again.
This time, it was something else.
It was someone else.
Since the day you last saw your android friend five years ago, you've waited for a chance to see Connor again, despite how impossible it seemed. Sometimes you felt crazy for knowing that androids were invented and trained to cooperate with people a long time before CyberLife first introduced them to the public. But even on the worst days, when it looked like you made that all up, you knew that you were not dreaming about it.
Years ago, CyberLife sent a prototype android to assist you with daily tasks after your father tragically died, well, also from android hands. You didn’t appreciate the irony at first, but over time, you were grateful that the company had resolved the guardianship issue in this way.
You had already been to an orphanage, and you really, really didn’t want to go back there.
As far as it was possible with android in the testing period, you two became close, and you felt like you had a family despite everything.
And then they took him back.
You never stopped looking for Connor, though. This was probably part of your inner motivation to join the police. Not to mention the naive part of you that wanted to make this structure better, something that could really protect children who needed it, instead of not even taking their calls seriously.
And even though your search hasn't been successful (yet), you've learned a lot about the creation of androids, their mindset, and the growing problem with deviancy. CyberLife, probably, wouldn't be happy to find out that you'd sniffed out some of this information. But you were a cop after all, even if not a detective or an officer, so uncovering hidden facts was nothing new to you.
That’s why you knew about Deviant Hunter some time before he was presented to the public. But seeing him on the news was… Something else.
You tried to stay rational, but it was hard to look at the face that belonged to him. As far as you knew, Connor was the only one of his kind, at least for now. No other copies of his model had been created, neither after the incident in your past nor after he was recently announced as a part of the DPD.
But your sources of information were limited, so you couldn’t say for sure. His face alone wasn’t enough for you to draw any further conclusions. You needed to hear his voice, his intonations, and see his body language in person.
If it’s him, if CyberLife hasn’t destroyed his mind — at least completely — you’ll see the fragments of his personality.
You couldn’t believe this would happen today.
One of your colleagues greeted you, snapping you out of your thoughts. You smiled politely even before looking up to see who was standing in front of you. It was Captain Fowler, your direct supervisor. Since you didn’t have a separate press team, you received your assignments straight from him.
"Glad you’re early. We need to talk about your part in the new case."
You nodded and followed him to the glass-walled cabinet. You liked working with the captain: even though you always felt the need to pull yourself together and put your best foot forward around him, he wasn’t unfair or toxic, and since you were just as demanding of yourself, you were similar in that regard.
It also flattered you that he hadn't, after all, looked for someone else to take over your duties. He usually didn't take anyone directly under his wing except for detectives, but over time, you had earned his trust and proven you could be relied on in your field. According to your observations, that was what he valued most in the team.
Captain Fowler gave a brief overview of your mission objectives to Lieutenant Anderson and his android assistant, who will be joining him today. So here’s the deal: you’ll be managing public opinion regarding an interesting, important, but extremely difficult case — one whose consequences are anyone’s guess.
You’ll need to present the results of tracking down deviants and resolving the issue in a favorable light, and handle communications with journalists if anything goes wrong (based on your experience, with a case this unusual, something was bound to).
It wasn’t all that different from what you usually did, but now you’d be working with Hank, who was one of the colleagues least likely to agree to anything involving the public eye.
And with Connor. Your Connor. Or not-your-Connor.
You took a deep breath as you left the boss’s office and headed to your desk to gather your thoughts.
* * *
You knew it was him the moment he stepped into the break room.
“Hello, Detective. I’m Connor, an android, sent by CyberLife. Nice to meet you”, you heard a familiar voice behind you and gasped when something twitched near your chest.
It was not just the voice of his model, it was his voice. You were as sure of it as you were that the sky is blue and that Gavin is a dick who will try to ruin every day of your work. To be even clearer, you knew it somewhere deep in your heart, which, as you knew from the experience, sometimes was even more important than the rational approach you've relied on for most of your daily life.
The timing was perfect — you just finished brewing your green “alpine meadow” tea (whatever that means) just in time. You wrapped your hands around the hot cup to hide their trembling, then quickly took the tea bag out, tossed it into a small trash can, and took a deep breath before turning back to the android.
“I know who you are, Connor”, you said warmly, trying to stay in coworkers mode, not to let his analytical skills read something suspicious in you right away.
You looked him over carefully, letting your eyes widen just enough to seem natural when meeting a new, unusual colleague. Same wide brown eyes, dark hair, a broad jaw, but soft cheekbones. Everything about his looks was… Similar to you.
“You probably know my name already, too, right?” You tilted your head, trying to suppress a nervous smile. You tapped your temple with your finger, referring to his LED, which was yellow for a few seconds before he spoke to you, meaning he was probably scanning you.
“It’s correct, I analysed your face and had a short snippet about you. Information like this helps me to interact with humans more effectively”.
It’s not like you’d been preparing yourself for anything else, but seeing it for yourself was still… well, tough. He didn’t remember you, and you couldn’t even hope he’d pretend otherwise to keep you — or himself — safe. No, you were certain you knew Connor, and the fact that he had no idea who you really were to him was as obvious as that it was really him.
You turned away to lean against the kitchen counter, trying to hide the sad look on your face.
“You know, it might be more effective in the long run not to use that and to ask people directly instead. Just a thought,” you added quickly, raising your hands in a playful, defensive gesture when you saw he was about to argue with you.
You forced back the tears that were starting to well up in the corners of your eyes at the bitter realisation that you had already told him this once before.
“I’m not a detective, by the way. I may appear as one in the databases due to some administrative reasons, but actually I'm a press officer”, you said in a matter-of-fact tone, swinging your legs in the air. “I’ll be working on your case, as I do with most crisis situations.”
“That sounds like important work, too. You're helping the DPD to guide the public opinion the right way, right?” he asked, friendly.
“Kind of”, you smiled. “I like to think that I help to keep things balanced with media narrative, which is not the same as manipulating it, so our officers can keep doing their important job of saving society… Well, without added challenges from that society”.
You smiled again, this time more to yourself. You liked how you formulated an explanation that captured some gray area of your job while also highlighting its importance. After all, you really had a way with words.
Connor thanked you for the explanation, and then an awkward silence fell between you. You looked away, trying to keep your breathing steady so as not to arouse his suspicion, while you could feel your heart on the verge of racing, ready to soar into the stratosphere at any moment.
“Lieutenant Anderson told me about his dog,” he commented unexpectedly. “You have a pet too?”
“Kind of”, you encouraged him. “How would you know?”
“It’s your hands; they're all scratched up”.
“Right! To be honest, it’s my neighbour's cat, Fred. Sometimes he pays a visit, seeking my food, but not my hugs, unfortunately”.
You knew he was probably talking to you to make friendly relationships for the sake of the investigation, but it still warmed your heart.
Chatting like that reminded you of the old days, when you two talked about this and that every day. He also wasn’t asking something he already knew about you once, so you could almost pretend for a second that it was a normal conversation.
Like he did not forget you. Or like he never met you before at all. Like you never lost him to…
It was the first day of his new life, and you didn’t want to add to his stress, especially given how unfriendly everyone around him was. So you said goodbye for now and left him to continue observing the station while waiting for Hank.
Walking to your desk, you noticed the unfriendly look on one of your colleagues’ faces as she stepped into the break room, where Connor was standing by the coffee machine. She glanced your way and nodded hello, and you gave an awkward smile in return.
You once again thought about how unnatural it felt to you that humans hated androids. Despite all the problems generative AI had brought to society (and androids were not that AI—they used it, but they weren’t it, something many people seemed to forget), it was obvious to you that it was never the androids’ fault.
Humankind created technology, humankind created AI, humankind created androids — and now somehow our decisions are the androids’ fault? Shouldn’t we be blaming ourselves instead? Aren’t humans placing too much trust in androids, which they supposedly consider mere machines?
You sighed, preparing yourself to continue your workday. There was still an article about an important case involving the bust of drug dealers that you needed to finish today, even though your heart had started pounding wildly in your chest.
* * *
You didn’t remember how you got home. Streets were blurry behind your eyes, a wholesome feeling of inner happiness, it seemed, pumped your heart instead of blood, while your energetic footsteps brought you to your little house’s porch. You haven’t felt so good in months. Years, actually.
It’s really him. It’s really him. It’s really him.
You had worked your whole life for this job, starting from school; your health had finally shown you some mercy after years of one problem after another trying to wear down your still relatively young body. And on top of that, the android who had had such a big impact on your life was safe. Maybe not entirely safe, considering his new mission — but he was close to you again.
He’s alive. He’s alive. He’s alive.
A hint of bittersweetness slipped under your skin as you took off your shoes in the hallway, sending shivers all the way to your fingertips. Yes, he doesn’t remember you, and he probably never will. But you won’t let that fact steal this pure moment.
You would take care of it in the future, as you had done with all frightening things in your life. Maybe not immediately. Maybe while feeling insecure about everything, yes, but you would get there.
As you entered your small but cozy house and tossed your backpack with the DPD logo onto the chair, you felt you two could be friends again. That everything, for once, could be nice between you. Despite the upcoming conflict, despite CyberLife deciding to make him obsessed with hunting deviants this time, despite everything else life could throw at you.
This time, you would be ready.
This time, you’d stop dwelling on your life — on your insecurities and failures. Because this time, fortune had, for once, chosen your side. For once, you seemed to have everything you needed.