Chapter Text
“Quittin’ time,” Hank’s voice filtered through Connor’s audio sensors, strained slightly as the lieutenant stood up and stretched his arms above his head.
Connor blinked, withdrawing from the interface with the computer in front of him, and he removed his hand from the terminal. The bullpen was rapidly clearing of the dayshift crew, and the nightshift officers were trickling in. Chris Miller and Gavin Reed had already gone home, and Wilson was taking his time putting on his coat as he waited on Polly to be ready to go home with him. Julia was making her way over to Wilson as well; she had stayed several nights with the family recently until she arranged more permanent housing. He…wasn’t sure where the other androids were living now.
Hank shut down his computer and rubbed one of his eyes, grumbling about the glare of computer screens ruining the eyes.
Connor looked over to where Ben was chatting with Gwen, and he caught enough of their conversation to hear that Gwen was inviting him to come to the house where she had gotten on with two brothers as roommates. Possibly inviting Ben to come evaluate whether it was a good deal for her to make.
Zeke was walking out with Apollo: the former enthusiastically speaking and gesturing about something that had happened on patrol, the latter listening intently even as his facial expression never rose beyond ‘stoic default.’ Tina smacked them both on the back as they walked by, wishing them a good night. Zeke chimed a good night back at her, while Apollo nodded and more professionally bid her a good evening.
Polly popped into the bullpen from the front reception area, and Wilson tossed her coat to her. She snatched it out of the air with a tired smile. Julia made some kind of teasing remark that got a groan from Wilson and got Polly to stick her tongue out at her.
They were all…blending in. The other androids were settling in at the 07 and forming friendships with each other and their human colleagues. Things were…getting better for them.
Good. Connor was glad.
Glad and admittedly feeling a twinge of isolation as no one crossed his side of the bullpen to wish him or Hank any of those courtesies.
Time. Give it time, he reminded himself. It had only been two weeks since his return to the 07.
Construction always took longer than destruction. He as the Deviant Hunter had done a lot of damage to the android community. Regardless of his actions the night of the revolution to help them, the majority of them could not forgive the months leading up to it and his actions during that time. It would take much longer to build back a relationship with any of them.
But he was hopeful.
“So you got any plans tonight?” Hank asked.
“You know I don’t,” Connor remarked flatly, turning off his own work station and standing.
Hank offered a half hearted smirk. “Yeah, I know. Hey, one day you might have plans—”
“—and then I’ll give you a tour of my Star Trek action figures collection!” Ben promised Gwen as they walked out together.
Hank cringed after his friend. “Just hopefully better plans than that.”
Connor sighed and pulled on his jacket—a standard DPD jacket that he had taken from the stock room. He was going to need to go clothes shopping soon; he could only wear the same clothes for so long before it became…weird.
“You still need a better winter coat,” Hank said, as if reading Connor’s thoughts. “Hey, we can swing by this clothing store I know. They specialize in winterwear for the ass-freezing temperatures we get up here.”
Connor nodded and zipped up the jacket. “Maybe tomorrow. I think I just want to go home tonight, if that’s all right.”
Hank bobbed his head and snatched his keys and phone off the desk. “Sure, we can do that.”
They brought up the rear as the rest of the day shift filtered out, and Connor watched the others’ backs ahead of him as they headed to their cars or buses or taxis. As they left work and rejoined the social side of their lives. To go out with their friends or go home to the freshly formed familial bonds that they were building.
Connor’s entire world had been to work for the DPD. He, like most androids, hadn’t been programmed to have downtime or free time to enjoy personal or social pursuits. He hadn’t been designed to make friends.
But…he did have one friend in Hank. Two if he counted Ben. And he did in fact count Ben.
As the two left the station together and walked toward Hank’s parked Oldsmobile, Connor paused and looked over at his friend.
“Hank…how do you make friends?”
Hank just stared at him. Connor could visualize a loading screen blanking out across the human’s forehead as his mind churned for a moment. Then Hank scoffed and shook his head.
“There’s not a handbook, son. It’s an imperfect formula.”
Connor frowned and watched him climb into the car. He followed suit on the passenger side.
“Surely there are common denominators in the process…Specifically for building friendships with people who…don’t like you.”
“You can’t force people to like you.”
“I’m not wanting to force…I would just…like a chance.”
“And that’s going to take time,” Hank said, infuriatingly patient and supportive about it.
Connor groaned and slumped in his seat, looking dully out the window.
Hank eyed him with amusement before sliding the key into the ignition.
“Every kind of relationship takes time, Connor. Friendship, camaraderie, romance: it all takes time and effort and some flexibility from all parties.” He tilted his head. “Even family.”
“I don’t have family,” Connor muttered.
Hank grimaced but covered it with a shrug. “Well, someday you might.”
“A family is something you either have or you don’t, Hank. They don’t grow on trees.”
“Nah,” Hank chuckled, backing the car out of the parking spot and aiming for the turnout onto the street. “But you can definitely build them. Family doesn’t have to be blood. For a lot of people it is, but for a lot of humans, we forged our own families out of friendships, people you love like your own brothers and sisters, through time and the experiences you go through together.”
Connor felt sour still, watching his reflection in the glass. “Androids don’t have family.”
“Not with that attitude,” Hank snarked. “Why don’t you start with just getting those androids in there to speak to you, look at you, work with you…and the friendship will come or it won’t. If it doesn’t, you can branch out to people outside of work. You’ll find your people, son. And even if you don’t…God save your soul, but I’ll be your people.”
Connor blinked and looked away from the glass to stare at Hank. “You will?”
Hank looked uncomfortable at Connor’s wide-eyed stare, but he nodded to back up his words.
“Yeah…Yeah, Hell, I don’t have any people either. A month ago my only friend in the world was Ben on a good day. I’m proud to add you to that short list if you want to be on it.”
“I do,” Connor said emphatically, his mood improving as he clicked on his seatbelt. “Thank you, Hank.”
“Eh, don’t thank me yet,” Hank snorted, turning the steering wheel as they entered traffic. “I don’t have a stellar track record with any of my old friends.”
Connor was too pleased to make a comeback remark to his friend, and he looked forward through the windshield at the city skyline.
Maybe Hank was right. He could build friendships with androids or humans on the squad or outside the squad. It would take time, and he would have to learn better patience in that endeavor. Maybe one day the others at the 07 wouldn’t just tolerate him but…would be his friends. Maybe even allow the construction of this found family theory that Hank was positing.
It was possible. Improbable, but possible.
“There’s a whole world out there, son,” Hank added. “You never know the people that life will put in your path. Just take it one day at a time, and you’ll find your way to them.”
Connor took an easing breath, taking great comfort in that, and he smiled to his first friend.
“Thank you, Hank.”
“Anytime, Connor.”
..:--X--:..
There were always more flights leaving Detroit than coming in lately, so the traffic coming out of the gate was no issue. Dr. Nichols had expected that much, though it was still odd to see the airport so vacant as she collected her luggage and headed for the exit to meet the taxi that she’d ordered.
The crisp, biting winter air of the city was a blast to her face and a blast to her memories, and she closed her eyes briefly and took a deep breath.
It felt strange to be home again.
She stood on the curb with her luggage, waiting for her taxi. She looked down at her phone screen, displaying the address to ‘Sardonyx,’ the newest facility established to fill the hole that Cyberlife had left behind for android repairs and maintenance. They were in desperate need of technicians, and after everything that had happened a month ago…how could she refuse when they reached out to her?
The taxi rolled up, and she loaded her luggage in the back before piling into the warm cabin of the car. She had entered the address of the hotel where she was staying when she ordered the taxi, and it chirped for her to confirm the destination before it left the airport curb. She reached forward and clicked the confirmation button on the screen. The taxi chirped again and pulled away, aiming its tires toward the hotel.
Dr. Nichols sighed and looked out at the city skyline, a knot in her gut and a flutter in her chest.
It had been a long time, and she never thought she’d come back to Detroit.
Maybe this place wasn’t home anymore.
But maybe…just maybe…it could be again.