“Holy fuck!” Connor’s startled cry was the first thing that met Hank’s audio processors as the android jolted back into reality as the humans knew it, mechanical body jerking into alertness and stormy blue eyes shooting open without so much as a flutter to ease them back into the world.

The detective reeled back from where he’d been hovering all of about two inches from the machine’s face, assumably searching for the cause of the abruptly induced shut down as his hand still lingered in the air between them, long fingers extended as if to brush over the creation’s LED they now simply hovered motionlessly above. Connor let out a strangled exclamation that was indiscernible even to the highly advanced prototype’s keenly attuned sensors, heart rate stuttering in a quickened rhythm of distress and pink lips remaining tugged downwards into a firm frown as he jerked back into his own car seat, though his left arm remained resting against the middle console where it had been positioned to lean across the car to leave the man facing the android - Hank felt it a safe assumption to lay the reaction on the fact that his sudden reactivation had taken the detective off guard. It made sense.

Though Hank’s newly reawakened optical sensors had previously been obscured by a curling mop of messy hair and a concerned face pushing into the android’s space and leaving little room for anything else in the machine’s eyes, the robot could now determine his location to be the vaguely familiar interior of Connor’s car. On a much more concerning note however, the android found the vehicle to be parked worse than usually against the side of the road where barely so much as a shoulder existed to allow the car distance from where other drivers raced by at an alarming rate, fierce wind whipping the small hatchback into shuddering with each roaring pass.

“What are we doing here, Detective?” Hank inquired evenly as Connor’s heart rate finally began to subside to a safer range and adopted a more stable rhythm, though the detective’s uneasy frown stayed firmly set in place even as the man averted his gaze, tongue bit gently between his teeth. “This is a hazardous location to remain in.” The android pointed out informatively, well prepared to go into the details pertaining to the exact speeds of the cars racing by and the unacceptably minuscule distance between the highway and their own perfectly destroyable bodies.

“I see the cars just fine, Hank.” Connor snorted humorlessly with a slow breath blown between his lips to finish the satirical statement. “It’s just that,” The detective began unsteadily once more before letting his uncertain words trail off with a stressed sigh, silencing any argumentative facts the android may have been collecting in short term storage about the number of deaths caused by traffic incidents or the likelihood of a car swerving an inch or two off the road and adding a number to that steadily growing list.

“You just,” The man began uninformatively, gesturing vaguely with his restless hands to no real purpose. “Crashed in my damn car seat!” Connor finally balked incredulously, heart rate keening back up a notch or two as if relaying the information had somehow made it all the more unpleasant. “I didn’t really feel like waiting ‘till the next gas station to see if you were still among the living. ” The detective snorted sarcastically, voice high with forced ease but yet betraying a touch of anxiety rooted deep within Connor’s lilting tones no matter how casual the man might’ve made himself appear with his arms crossed easily over his chest and a coy smile tugging at one lip.

Hank distinctly remembered being in the furthest most left lane of the five lane roadway the last he recalled and a concerning image of a panicked Connor swerving across four lanes of heavy traffic formed itself vividly in the android’s mind.

“My apologies if I upset you, Detective Anderson.” Hank offered apologetically - Rather than giving in to the compulsory command to remind the detective he was a machine and thus, in all fact, not among the living to begin with - the android’s voice softened a touch in lieu of the new information, though the smidge of gentleness probably had the effect of a snarling doberman trying to give paw. Yet Connor still gave a stiff shrug and a dismissive wave for the machine’s efforts, a tendency the robot had come to label as a habit for the young detective.

“You’re good though?” Connor questioned with a hint of worry still clearly evident in his gently lilting tones, the words rising to small, light crests before dripping down to shady hollows once more as the detective cast his companion a sideways glance. “You sure I shouldn’t be heading towards the nearest five minute fix center or something?” The detective inquired in a teasing tone that did little to conceal the residual worry still lingering about the man as he slowly began steering the car back towards the roadway.

“My systems are all online and running at peak capacity.” Hank stated surely, his processors automatically running a rapid scan of his coding and physical being for any sort of malfunction and presenting negative results in all fields.

“Good to hear.” Connor replied easily, shifting one shoulder and letting a notably less forced smile tug upwards at one corner of his lips as he blinkered his intent for all of about half a second before swerving them uncouthly back onto the crowded roadway with a sharp jerk of the wheel, not to mention an angry honk from the vehicle they fell in line before. “Though that leads me to my next question.” The detective segued inquisitively as he tapped a single, long finger against the sleek, black leather of the steering wheel in a series of quick, sporadic beats that reminded Hank of Fowler’s heavy digits falling against the fake, wooden surface of the bar just in how starkly different the two seemingly similar actions were.

“Where exactly is this train wreck chugging towards?” Connor questioned thoughtfully, chocolate orbs squinting critically at the innocent dashboard that had done nothing to deserve such meanness. “I suppose maybe a repair shop would be a good a place to start as any actually and maybe you could grab a quick check up while we’re there.” The man wondered aloud, not really seeming to be speaking so much to the android as his eyes remained steadily elsewhere and no pause was given between thoughts for a reply to be offered.

“Though maybe a build-a-bot shop would actually be a better place to begin.” Connor mumbled thoughtfully under his breath, finger beating against the unfortunate steering wheel a little bit harder as he ran through suggestions, the action coming to remind Hank of an android's LED in the way it indicated the detective’s mind reeling much as the glowing light on the side of the mechanical man’s head indicated his own internal processes. “I mean, that is where it all starts, yeah?” Detective Anderson questioned keenly, actually turning to cast an inquisitive glance Hank’s way as the machine clicked the words into place and figured out that “build-a-bot shop” somehow translated into “Cyberlife” in the confounding mechanisms of the human’s mind.

Connor rambles, filed itself neatly away in the slowly mounting selection of facts and conclusions drawn about the human in question before Hank actually went on to respond. “Deviancy does not begin on the product line, Detective.” The machine informed confidently, LED flickering a brief flash of yellow as the man-made creation brought up the information he had stored on deviants and the condition itself in a folder labeled “Vital” in the forefront of his storage unit, far in front of the marginally unimportant Connor Anderson section of memory. “The malfunction arises only after-” Hank tried to elaborate but was cut off only a few words in to his well memorized report.

“After an emotional shock.” Detective Anderson finished for the android, lilting voice thoughtful as Hank merely sent a questioning look of silence the man’s way rather than an actual response. “I looked into it after the whole Daniel thing.” Connor explained hastily after a moment, seeming to notice the machine's gaze upon him and in turn averting his own coffee orbs, suddenly far more intent on keeping his eyes on the road like any other responsible driver than Hank had yet to see him.

“Why is that, Detective Anderson?” The android pressed with a careful detached calm to his words, the machine finding the obscure fact relevant to his main mission as well as perhaps some window into the man he was supposed to play partner to’s unexplored mind.

“Because it felt wrong to put a bullet in something that acted so human.” Connor stated flatly, simply even, as if the detective couldn’t quite seem to fathom why this question would need to be answered and was tired of doing so. A nervous tick jostled the detective’s leg where it rested over the gas pedal and the man pushed his foot down upon the metal plate to speed them up even when the guy was yet to choose a destination.

“I assure you, Detective, deviants are not human.” Hank relayed stoically, professionalism creeping in to fill every crack and corner of the machine’s tone. “What you saw was an emulation of emotion, just an error in programming.” The android asserted clinically, voice cold and unwavering in its utter surety as the simple fact rested at the very core of the machine and directed nearly every action the prototype took, down to this very conversation.

“A one where a zero should be?” Connor questioned tonelessly, swerving into the lane alongside their own to overtake a vehicle responsibly going only a few miles above the speed limit and vicariously causing an earsplitting screeching of tires to explode from behind them where another driver slammed their brakes to only barely miss nicking Connor’s wayward vehicle.

Hank merely gave a stoic nod as Connor failed to even flinch at the noise left in his wake, as if the guy were inherently toneless to the sound and wholeheartedly oblivious to the other drivers and their noisy irritation.

“That malfunctioning machine,” Connor began slowly, speaking the title with evident distaste and a keen note of disbelief. “Used its dying breath to tell me I lied to him. I told him everything would be fine if he complied with authorities.” The detective stated flatly, finger tapping against the steering wheel in an explosive rhythm that sounded as if someone were trying to convey mind blowing orgasm through morse code.

Hank’s LED flickered yellow, blinking rapidly for a flash of a moment before cycling back to natural blue, so quick there was a chance Connor didn't catch it and the android himself all but ignored it entirely. “A one where a zero should be.” The machine agreed coldly, forcing his face into a stony picture of strict professionalism and willing away any evidence intent on conveying anything other than that absolute truth.

Connor cast a long look over at his mechanical companion, brown eyes unabashedly analyzing and intense in their prodding stare and leaving the android to wonder if his code itself were somehow on display before the detective’s prying eyes; but after an agonizingly slow minute, the man mercifully relented. “You’re the expert, Hanky Panky.” Detective Anderson slowly dismissed with a stiff shouldered shrug that jerked his arms uncouthly upwards in a harsh line of motion before heavily rolling his shoulder blades back in an unnecessarily slow circle as if the man himself were trying to roll any lingering thoughts down off that slow shrug.

“Doesn’t answer question numero uno though.” Connor quipped lightly, forcibly dragging the pair past their last line of discussion and back to his first initial inquiry of a destination by a tight leash that offered no way back to their previous heavy topic of the constitutions of humanity. A stark shift, most certainly, but not one Hank had any notion to resist.

“I have been informed that there was a homicide reported not far from our current location.” Hank answered stoically, never blinking from his strict disinterest even as Connor choked on a breath of air and turned to cast the robot an absolutely incredulous stare. “Android involvement is suspected.” The prototype police droid went on to inform clinically, LED pulsing a slow, steady yellow as the machine read what little information Fowler had to offer him on the attack and could draw from it not much more than that simple fact. The report was too new and very little had been found by the policemen already investigating the scene, the android supposedly having fled long before anyone arrived with little trace remaining to give lead to the suspected murderer’s location.

“I believe that would be a good place to begin our investigation.” Hank concluded finally, gaze schooled strictly forward as the robot ended the declaration with a sure nod and awaited Anderson's expected agreement.

“Are you sure you’re not psychic, Robocop?” Connor inquired instead, sounding entirely unconvinced as he turned slightly in his seat to cast the android beside him a narrowed eyed look of utter disbelief.

“I’m sorry, Detective.” Hank apologized evenly, feeling his lip glitch out with that unnecessary tug once more as the android let his own gaze flick over to his companion for a moment, stormy blue eyes fixed coolly on Connor with a determined stare, though in search of what, the machine was unsure. “I’ve been informed a magician never reveals their secrets.”