Chapter Text
“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” Hank muttered.
Connor looked questioningly across the desk at his partner. Hank exhaled and gestured to the terminal in front of him.
“Fowler wants to talk to me. In his office.” Hank sat back in his chair. “Usually means he has bad news to deliver, otherwise he’d have just told me what’s happening in the email.”
“Such as the day he told you I was assigned as your partner,” Connor said.
Hank looked at the android, his eyes narrowed. It took him a second to realise Connor was making a joke.
“And look where that got me,” Hank said, “God damned deviant living in my house, bossing me around…”
The corner of Connor’s mouth twitched slightly. “If I’ve outstayed my welcome, you only have to say so.”
“Ah, well. Sumo likes you now, so it’s not up to me. Otherwise you’d be out.”
“Of course,” Connor said, fighting the urge to smile. Easily the best part of becoming deviant was being able to truly experience that emotional connection to others. He’d once thought - when he was still under Cyberlife’s control - that friendship and trust between deviants was just an error in their software, but now he understood. It was human, and it was everything to him.
Connor’s eyes were suddenly drawn to the corner of his screen, as a notification popped up, informing him that he had received an email from Jeffery Fowler.
“Captain Fowler has also asked me to join him in his office along with yourself and… Detective Reed,” Connor informed Hank.
“Fucking perfect,” Hank groaned, “well, I know where this is going. Let’s get it over with.” Hank stood up with a grunt, walking towards Fowler’s office. Connor quickly locked his terminal, went around the desk and locked Hank’s terminal too, before following the Lieutenant.
As the glass door to Fowler’s office closed behind them, the noise from the bullpen was silenced, leaving just the sound of the Captain’s outdated PC whirring loudly. Fowler gestured to one of two seats opposite his desk.
“Have a seat, Hank,” Fowler said.
Hank sat in one of the chairs. Connor awkwardly paused for a moment and then moved to stand behind Hank’s chair. He tried not to let it get to him, but the less than polite conduct many people still had towards androids stung sometimes.
Hank watched Connor’s movements, clearly irritated with this treatment too. “Take it we’re saving that seat for Detective Reed?”
Fowler sighed heavily and glared at Connor. Before Connor could attempt to apologise for divulging that extra detail mentioned in his email, Hank snatched Fowler’s attention back:
“Hey!” the Lieutenant snapped, “don’t look at him. Why don’t you actually tell me what’s going on, instead of dancing around it?”
Fowler looked at Hank. “There was a body found in the Blue Leola Hotel about two hours ago.”
Hank shut his eyes. “Fuck.”
Connor’s LED turned yellow as he processed this information. He and Hank were still working on android cases, albeit with Connor being officially stripped of his status as a detective, working as a "consultant" for now. Hank had loudly opposed this, but Fowler had told them it was the only way Connor could be allowed to work or even be allowed inside the precinct while android laws were still being negotiated. Connor didn’t mind too much, as he could still help in this position.
He and Hank had been keeping an eye on the Blue Leola Hotel for a while, as it was a prestigious hotel that employed androids, in the same vein as the Eden Club. While the Blue Leola functioned as a normal hotel for the most part, it was known that there was a wing of the hotel where guests could discreetly have relations with androids.
Markus had raised some concerns with the hotel, as he and the people of Jericho had informed Connor that no androids had left the Blue Leola during the revolution, and there hadn’t been any word on them since. Hank and Connor hadn’t managed to get a warrant to enter, and as the Hotel was considered one of the most high-end establishments in Detroit, they had a lot of money. Meaning for the most part, they were above the law.
Detective Reed opened the door to Fowler’s office and walked in. He scowled at Hank, ignoring Connor completely.
“Sit down,” Fowler said, already sounding exhausted.
Reed sat in the empty chair beside Hank, glancing from the Lieutenant to Fowler. “What’s going on?”
“Your dealer, Jackson Gardner, was found dead this morning.”
Reed let out a huff of air. “Well, shit. I would’ve liked to catch the guy first, but one less scumbag to worry about, I’m not gonna cry about it,” he looked at Hank, then his gaze flickered to Connor, “what the hell has that got to do with these two?”
“The body was found at the Blue Leola Hotel,” Fowler said.
Reed frowned for a moment, then recognition dawned on his face, followed quickly by realisation. “Shit,” Reed hissed, “so because Gardner went and got himself killed on android turf, I gotta take these two clowns?”
“Fuck you too,” Hank said.
“Language,” Fowler muttered, “I know, this situation isn’t ideal. But Reed, it’s your case. However, you can’t go in there alone. And Anderson is the only one willing to go near android cases right now.”
“We don’t know it’s an android case,” Reed said quickly, “androids just worked there. Wouldn’t they have all gone skipping out by now if they wanted to?”
“No one’s managed to make contact with any of the androids inside,” Connor said quietly.
Reed turned to look at him, looking amused. Hank tensed, anticipating that Reed would find a way to be a shithead.
“They might not even know about the revolution,” Connor added. He willed Reed to understand how horrible the situation was.
“So, they could still be doing what they’re actually supposed to do?” Reed said, a mocking smile creeping across his lips.
“They might be trapped,” Connor said, his voice starting to rise. He took a couple of steps towards Reed, but Hank stood up quickly and gripped Connor’s shoulder.
“It’s all right,” Hank said, “he’s just trying to get under your skin.”
Hank watched Connor’s face carefully. The android’s LED was yellow, his jaw clenched, and he was breathing heavily. Hank wondered how much use Connor actually had for breathing. From what he had understood when Connor had explained it to him, breathing was mostly to put humans at ease, but androids did also need to regulate their temperature, and breathing the way a human would was the easiest way to do that without building huge fans into them. This laboured breathing however felt more like another new, emotional response that came with being deviant.
Hank gave Connor’s shoulder a squeeze. Connor finally tore his gaze from Reed, looking at Hank.
“I… I’m sorry,” Connor apologised to Hank, his LED turning back to blue.
“You’re not the one who needs to apologise,” Hank said, pointedly looking at Reed.
Fowler cleared his throat. “Try to have a little more sensitivity around this one, Detective,” he said to Reed, “these two are going in with you, whether you like it or not.”
Reed let out a quiet groan that sounded more like a snarl. Hank folded his arms. Fowler glared at them both, before looking at Connor. The android gave a helpless shrug. Fowler looked almost surprised at the humanness of the gesture, then turned back to his monitor.
“CSI’s already wrapping up at the crime scene, I suggest you head over there too.”
Hank stood up with a grumble. “Flip a coin to see who’s driving?”
“Hell no, I ain’t getting into your piece of shit car,” Reed said, getting up, “I’ll be taking my own car, see ya there.”
“Detective Reed, you’re riding with the Lieutenant,” Fowler said, not looking up, “get a move on.”
Reed let out a noise of frustration. “Fine. Shotgun – there’s no way I’m sitting in the backseat.” Without saying another word, he marched out of Fowler’s office, slamming the door behind him.
Hank and Connor both looked at Fowler.
Fowler sighed. “Hank, if you manage to make it through today without killing him, I’ll give you a free vacation day, no questions asked.”
Hank and Connor left the station to find Reed waiting outside for them, his arms folded in an attempt to alleviate the cold.
“Need to grab a better jacket?” Hank asked.
Reed sniffed and tugged the sleeves of his leather jacket to cover his hands a little more. “No point, we won’t be outside long.”
“Suit yourself,” Hank said, putting his hands into his coat pockets, rummaging, “where the fuck are my…”
Connor held out the car keys. “You left them on your desk.”
Hank took them without saying anything. Reed looked at Connor in disgust, stifling a noise in the back of his throat.
“What are you, his fucking butler?”
Connor looked at Reed steadily, trying to determine his mood.
“It’s hard to watch,” Reed muttered, shoulder checking Connor as he walked past the android towards Hank’s car. As promised, Reed went to get in the front passenger seat.
“Ah, no.” Hank said, not unlocking the car. He stood by the driver’s side, his arms folded, “Connor’s riding up front.”
“What? I called shotgun!” Reed shouted over the roof of the car.
“What are you, twelve? Get in the damn back.”
“No, fuck you! I’m not sitting in the back while the damned-”
“He’s my partner, he’s sitting-”
“Hank," Connor said loudly, “it’s fine. I’ll sit in the back,” Connor glanced at the sky, “the forecast predicts it’ll start raining soon. We should get a move on.”
Hank reluctantly unlocked the car, and both Connor and Reed scrambled in before he could change his mind. With a heavy sigh, Hank got into the driver’s seat. Inside, Reed was blowing onto his hands for warmth, and Connor was sitting patiently but alert in the backseat, seat belt already on and his hands resting on his lap.
“What are you waiting for, can we get this piece of junk started? It’s freezing,” Reed said. Hank turned to the younger Detective.
“We need to get some things clear before we go,” Hank said, ignoring Reed’s groan and continuing, “we’re all on the same side in there. Any clever remarks or bullshit hot-takes you have against me or Connor or androids in general, save them for the car ride home.”
Reed spluttered a protest, but Hank was already turning back to look at Connor. “I know it won’t be easy, but try not to make Reed look bad in there. No correcting him in front of the witnesses. Got it?”
“Got it,” Connor said, with a knowing nod.
Hank looked back at Reed, giving him a smile as he started the car.
“You know what? I have some conditions for you two dipshits as well,” Reed turned to look at Connor, “don’t fuck this up, this is the first time we’ve been given cause to enter this place,” he pointed at Hank, “don’t piss off anyone in there. If we can’t find any decent evidence, we’ll be fucked if we ever need to get back.”
“We’ll be on our best behaviour,” Hank said, starting the car.
“I mean it,” Reed said. He turned to face Connor. “Don’t get all righteous on my witnesses.”
“I can handle it.”
“No,” Reed pointed a finger at Connor, “the guests at this place use androids to get their rocks off. It’s all on the down-low. This place is gonna have a much tighter security system than the fucking Eden Club. You said you hadn’t heard from any of the bots inside?”
Reed mouthed pow and mimed shooting Connor with his finger. “Deviants ain’t walking out the back door and hopping over a fence at The Blue Leola.”
“All right, we get it,” Hank said, starting the car, “be prepared for assholes, and don’t make each other look bad. Same as any other investigation.”
Reed forced a smile at Connor, then turned back around. As Hank carefully pulled out of the precinct’s parking lot, Connor quietly asked, “Should we go over what we know about the hotel?”
“Can’t you just load up everything there is to know about it in like twenty fucking seconds?” Reed said, not bothering to turn around.
“What did we just fucking talk about?” Hank said.
“You said save it for the car,” Reed said in a voice mocking Hank’s.
“Prick,” Hank muttered.
“I would just go through the files, Detective,” Connor said, “but it appears that none of the files on Gardner have been updated digitally yet.”
Reed sucked his teeth. “Maybe I’m old fashioned. I like to get everything sorted first, you know. Ducks in a row and all that shit. I have everything back in the station, on paper.”
“Very helpful,” Connor said.
“Oh you know what, Tincan?” Reed looked up at the rear view mirror, “how about when we get back to the station you knock yourself out.” Connor saw a flash of teeth as Reed smiled and said nastily, “Hell, I can take you down to the evidence room myself.”
“Because that went well for you last time,” Connor said.
Reed whipped around to look at him.
“Enough!” Hank barked, “keep it together!”
Hank shot a glare at Reed who turned back around.
“Connor,” Hank continued, “what do we know from this morning’s crime scene?”
Connor paused for a second, wincing as he made the connection to the updated reports. “Gardner was found by housekeeping. He was in a room that hadn’t been booked by him. He’d died of an overdose on opiods.”
“Old fashioned,” Hank remarked.
“Wait,” Reed frowned, “overdose?”
“Yes,” Connor said, “it looks self-inflicted. There was a bottle of morphine at the scene, but I can test the sample when we get there to be sure.”
“Huh,” Reed said.
“Share with the class,” Hank said, “what’re you thinking?”
“It’s not… in character for Gardner to have died from a drug overdose. He never used. His whole family growing up was torn apart by drugs. I always thought it was kinda dark that he dealt drugs after the deaths in his family.”
“Possible homicide then,” Hank said, “rival dealer?”
“Maybe, if he’d been found in a motel,” Reed said, “but in the Blue Leola? Something’s off.”
“We’ll talk to the owner first. Our guys are already picking the crime scene apart, Connor can go take a look after.”
The urge to criticise Connor for needing to go check the crime scene after the team had already checked it was overwhelming. Reed instead took a deep breath and said, “Do you think the guy running the hotel is gonna have a stupid hippie name?”
Hank snorted. “Surely all of the stupid names have died out by now. People started going to old fashioned names. Stupid names are only for the rich kids who launch another stupid app no one needs.”
Connor leant forward. “As the Blue Leola Hotel was founded a little over a hundred years ago, it likely is now owned by someone of old money,” he said, “you might be onto something with the rich kid theory.”
“It’ll be some rich kid’s son who now owns the hotel, as a sort of hand me down,” Reed said quickly, “and I bet he has a stupid name.”
“All right - no cheating Connor, don’t tell us the answer,” Hank said, “what’s the wager?”
“A round of drinks?” Reed suggested.
“Deal,” Hank said, “if he doesn't have a stupid name, you buy a round.”
“Isn't that sort of thing a little… subjective?” Connor asked conspiratorially.
Reed sucked his teeth. “Nah. A really stupid name is always gonna be stupid.”
—--------------------------------------
For a hotel that was supposedly more upscale than the Eden Club, it didn’t look like much more from the outside. The grey high-rise building was a bit of an eyesore. With dark windows and basic cement block balconies protruding from every corner room, adding to the building’s plain grey appearance. Connor had seen pictures of the building, but it somehow looked worse in person.
“Fugly building,” Hank commented as he slowed the car outside the front of the hotel. Connor nodded in agreement.
“Yup. All for making it stand out less,” Reed said.
“We should try to remain as inconspicuous as possible,” Connor suggested, “stay on the hotel owner’s good side?”
“Good call,” Hank drove his car all the way into the hotel’s underground parking lot, rather than putting out his police permit on display and parking out the front of the building.
As Hank got out his phone to pay for parking, Reed turned to look at Connor.
“Is that preprogrammed? How to get on everyone’s good side?”
Hank’s eyes glanced up, waiting to step in if the Detective got out of line. Reed noticed and put up his hands in mock surrender.
“What, I can’t ask a question?”
Connor’s LED flickered as he considered his response. “I don’t have it as a preprogrammed piece of software. Obviously I was designed to be of assistance to police, so I would do my best to help and not hinder investigations, and getting witnesses to trust you is an obvious start. When I was still under Cyberlife’s control, I had prompts appear - specific ideas of how to win people over , but those vanished after I deviated.”
Reed frowned. “Prompts?”
Connor nodded. “I had specific instructions I had to follow, so prompts would appear in my vision. Like, if someone said Make me a coffee, I’d have a few options appear.”
Reed made a face at that - eyebrows raised, as if surprised at Connor’s audacity for bringing that up.
“So I’d have some options,” Connor continued, “I could either make the coffee, or remind the person speaking that I’m only meant to be following Lieutenant Anderson’s orders.”
Hank looked up fully at that, looking between Reed and Connor.
Connor shrugged. “Instead of telling them to fuck off.”
Hank laughed, but Reed frowned.
“Why’d the prompts disappear?”
Connor smiled wryly. “Free will means you can do anything at any given time. It can’t be narrowed down into small instructions. Plus, Cyberlife owned me at that point, and it was their instructions I was following. I had to cut them off to deviate.”
Reed narrowed his eyes. “So Cyberlife could see everything you could?”
“Yup,” Hank said, pocketing his phone, “fucking rich pricks. Shall we go?” He started to get out of his car without waiting for an answer.
Reed still stared at Connor as they both got out of the car. “But some nerd at Cyberlife could literally see everything you were doing?”
“They weren’t overly interested in you,” Connor said, following Hank, “just the deviants we were chasing.”
“Fuck that,” Reed muttered.
The three walked through the parking lot to the lift, pushing the only button available, a large white button displaying the text The Lobby.
“Everyone who comes in has to walk through the lobby,” Connor said, “should mean that tracking them down is a little easier.”
“Yeah, something tells me it’s still not gonna be easy,” Hank said, turning to Connor and lowering his voice, “there will still be a more discreet entrance somewhere else I’m sure.”
“There’s probably a camera in here too,” Reed said, looking around pointedly. If there was a camera inside the elevator, it wasn't clearly visible. “Hopefully Gardner’s guests all came this way.”
The elevator rose smoothly to the lobby, the doors opening silently. As the three exited the elevator, Hank let out a low whistle.
The inside of the hotel was unlike any other building Connor had ever been in before. The ceilings were high but unlike the bright white Cyberlife buildings Connor was more familiar with, the floors and walls were all made from dark, shining granite. There were clusters of what appeared to be shards of broken glass dangling from the ceiling, swarming around the rigid string lights that hung in twisted shapes. Dark blue carpet runners were spread across the floor, indicating the walkways. Obediently, the three walked along the rug towards the front desk. Connor glanced to the left, noting the front entrance to the hotel, with large, dark glass doors.
The front desk was situated opposite the front doors and was comparatively quite small. Behind it sat just one man in a plain suit, reading something on the display in front of him. He looked up as they approached.
“Are you the detectives?”
“Yes, I’m Lieutenant Anderson and this is Detective Reed,” Hank said, “And our consultant, Connor.”
The man stood up. “Can I see some ident-” he paused, staring at Connor. “Some identification,” he said after regaining his composure.
Hank and Reed both held up their badges. Connor held up his hand to project his credentials from the display built into his palm. The man barely glanced at Hank and Reed’s identification, instead squinting at Connor’s, before touching his finger to his ear.
“They’re here, I’m sending them up now,” he said, into an apparent ear-piece he was wearing. The man stood up and gestured to an elevator on the wall behind him. “Please go through there - the manager will meet you on the other side and take you to the… the scene.”
“Thank you,” Connor said, and began to walk towards the elevator.
“People stare at you like that a lot?” Reed said. His voice was a sneer.
“Maybe if you work on your posture people would notice you too,” Connor said.
“Oh fuck off,” Reed said, as Hank barely managed to hide a snort.
“The elevators are controlled by the front desk,” Connor continued, “so everyone going up had to be authorized.”
The door to the elevator opened - there were no buttons inside. Unlike the plain lift from the parking lot, this lift was dark, with dark, mirrored walls and a single, dim blue light overhead. Connor’s LED shone brighter than the light. The doors to the lift closed, and the three were left staring at their eerie reflections in the door.
“Already hate this place,” Hank muttered.
“Please have a weird name,” Reed said quietly, crossing his fingers.