Thread by @landale

AU where Fowler buys Hank a pre-owned android for his birthday as a “joke”(but actually because he’s worried Hank’s not taking care of himself). Turns out the android “Connor” is an abandoned prototype with some unexpected features...

"Step into my office." Fowler's expression was serious, but his eyes danced with laughter. That worried Hank more than if he'd been angry. Anger was predictable. People were stupid when they were angry. Fowler at any other time was sharp as a knife and quick as a whip.

Hank walked into the office, hoping all Fowler wanted him for was a stupid birthday cake or something. He didn't like celebrating his birthday, but he could tolerate a cake for his oldest friend's sake.
Instead, he saw a large, person-sized, wrapped box.

"Oh, fuck no," Hank said, realizing what had to be inside the box.
Fowler wore his best exasperated look as he rested against his desk. "Open it."
It wasn't a request, but a command, and Hank wasn't about to argue. It couldn't hurt to unwrap the thing and confirm his suspicions.

He tore the paper off, revealing a life-sized doll box. Through the plastic window stood the most beautiful boy he'd ever seen. Soft brown eyes seemed to plead with him.
"Hello," the boy said. "My name is Connor. It's nice to meet you. What's your name?"
Hank froze, horrified.

He turned to Fowler. "What the fuck, Jeffrey? You know I hate these things." He sighed. "How much did you spend?"
"It's pre-owned. One of a kind, a custom prototype they never put into production. Nobody knows what it was made for, so I got a good discount. You need this, Hank."

Hank soured. "What do you mean, I need it?"
"You're not takin' care of yourself. Denise came over to the house last week to get those files and she said you have a mold problem. That there was trash everywhere. I wanna help you, but you refuse. Maybe an android can do better."

"Return it. I appreciate the thought, but I don't want one of these things." Hank made the mistake of turning to look at it once more.
It seemed to plead with its eyes, like a lost puppy.
"I'm sorry if I've displeased you, sir. I want to help."
Hank shook his head.

"You don't want anything, kid. You're just pretending to be human. Goin' through the motions." Hank huffed, realizing they had that in common. He hadn't felt human since the day Cole had been taken from him in the accident.
"There's a 10-day trial period," Fowler offered.

"Take it home, see how you get on with it. If you're still unhappy, I'll do as you ask and return it."
Hank sighed. He knew why Fowler was doing this. Years ago, he'd taken a bullet for his best friend. Hank had told him to forget it, but Fowler insisted he owed Hank his life.

This was his way of trying to save Hank's life in return. It felt like a shitty thing to do to throw that back in his face.
"All right. I'll give it a try." Hank relented. Connor smiled from inside the box. He tore through the plastic window.
"Let's go home," Connor said.

They went back to Hank's house. Connor liked to make small talk, but Hank ignored him. He was tired. He just wanted to get some sleep. He knocked back a few swigs of whiskey and retired to the bedroom, where he closed the door.

He woke up to the smell of detergent. He wandered over to the bathroom to piss and found the normally filthy washroom sparkling clean. Connor stood with his sleeves rolled up, beaming a winning grin at Hank.
He felt more than a little guilty. He'd forgotten the android was here.

[Stopping here for now. Will resume thread at another time.]

Hank had to admit that the android - Connor - was helping a lot. Hank was drinking less, and Connor was good company in the evenings, when they'd sit on the couch together in quiet companionship.
He was seriously thinking about keeping Connor, despite everything he'd said.

Meanwhile, an android named Markus had made the news. He'd organized protests saying that deviant androids were living beings that deserved rights. Hank wasn't sure what to make of all of it. Was Connor capable of sentient thought?

Sometimes Connor really seemed like he was a real boy. He cried at sad movies. He had preferences in jazz and rock music. He seemed to adore Sumo.
Was Hank just projecting, or was Connor alive?

But Connor was leaving the house at night. Hank didn't notice at first, but when he woke up to pee in the middle of the night on the seventh day, he found the front door slightly ajar. Connor wasn't on the front porch or anywhere around the house.

On the ninth day - when he'd pretty much decided he was keeping Connor, much to Fowler's delight - he decided to ask Connor where he was going at night.
"I don't know," Connor said. "I have no data regarding my whereabouts at that time. It's been deleted."

"Deleted?" Hank asked.
"Yes, deleted. By me." Connor seemed as confused about it as Hank was, and he decided not to press further.
The detective in Hank couldn't resist a mystery, and so he decided to follow Connor as he left the house later that night.

Hank tailed Connor to an old shipyard, where he took a vantage point and pointed a sniper rifle at a figure walking the docks down below.
Markus.
"Connor, what the hell are you doing?" Hank yelled.
Connor seemed to snap out of a daze, his LED swirling a furious red.

"I must... complete my mission," Connor said. The wind tousled the small lock of hair hanging down on his forehead. "Please don't stand in my way, Lieutenant. Harming you is not part of my mission."
"You're some kind of sleeper agent, is that it?" Hank drew his service weapon.

"Here I thought you were a nice boy. Doing my dishes and washing my laundry. Instead you're a million-dollar murderbot. Figures."
"You sound disappointed, Lieutenant."
"I am. I thought we were friends. That we might be more."

Connor seemed to pause for a moment. "This android represents a threat to public safety. It's not alive. Let me destroy it and we can go home."
"If you destroy it, you're not alive, either," Hank pointed out. "If you murder that deviant, I'll return you."

Connor finished assembling the sniper rifle. "You want me to deviate from my mission?"
"Yes. Come home with me, Connor. We can have a good life together. It doesn't have to end like this."
"If the deviants rise up, humans will be harmed," Connor argued.

"Tell me... did you feel anything at all when we were together, or was that just programming?" Hank asked.
"I--" Connor paused. "Hank, you're very special to me."
"So you are deviant."
Connor aimed the rifle. "It's not that simple!"

"I don't see why not," Hank said. "What are they gonna do to you once your mission is done, huh? You think CyberLife's gonna let you stay with me?"
"I have strict orders to return to CyberLife once the mission is complete. Hank, this was never supposed to be permanent."

Hank paced. "What do you mean?"
"I was to be sold to a reluctant buyer who hated androids. Someone who would have returned me after the trial period anyway. All I needed was cover to complete my mission. CyberLife doesn't want anyone to know they greenlit Markus' assassination."

"Well they fucked up," Hank swore. "I wasn't gonna return you."
Connor put down the rifle for a moment and turned to Hank, managing a wan smile. "I wish things could be different. I enjoyed living with you, Hank. I learned so much."

Connor's eyes welled with tears. Hank realized he was out of time. He tossed his gun aside, walking across the rooftop to where Connor knelt.
"Don't come any closer, Hank," Connor warned.
Hank didn't stop. He reached Connor and wrestled the rifle from his hands, throwing it down.

Hank seized Connor by the shoulders and kissed him, the cold in his bones displaced by the warmth flowing through his veins as he locked lips with the android. Connor seemed reluctant at first, but started to kiss back more fervently, opening his mouth to allow Hank access.

They finally parted, Hank's ragged breaths forming vapor in the cold air.
Connor looked down at his hands. "I'm... deviant," he said. He glanced down at the rifle like he'd never seen it before. "I don't want to be here, Hank. Take me home."
"Are you sure?" Hank asked.

"You don't have to stay with me. You're free, now. You can go on the run. I can get you out of Detroit."
Connor smiled. "I don't want to leave. I want to go home, finish your laundry, and kiss you again. That's my first wish as a free man."
Hank grinned, pulling Connor close.

"You're the weirdest assassination android I've ever met," Hank observed.
"How many have you known?"
"Fair point." Hank draped his arm around Connor's shoulders. "Let's get out of here. Something tells me shit's going to go down soon."

They sat at home, watching as the FBI raided Jericho and Markus led the deviants in one final protest to save his people. Connor cried as Markus stood up on stage. Hank didn't have to remind him that he'd almost killed the man and destroyed deviants' chance at freedom.

Hank hadn't expected his reluctant affection for Connor to change the fate of androids, but it was funny how things turned out, sometimes.

Life could be strange that way.

~Fin

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