#you can get both ingredients easily and for free from rivers and fish barrels and level up rapidly + make a shitload of money

[provendermalkin]

the problem with having a lot of experience at optimizing the order you do things in and looking at how things work so you can take them apart is that eventually your games become kind of boring because you've just sort of broken them in half as soon as you understand the mechanics.

on the one hand, I find it frustrating when a game artificially gates progress behind arbitrary enforced difficulty that you can't overcome with tricks or strategies. But on the other hand, I am very good at finding those tricks when they exist, and I inevitably lose interest once I discover there's simply no reason to continue playing-- either the challenge is gone, or I've done everything there is to do pretty much as fast as you can do it without being a serious speedrunner

[lopithecusfanfiction]

Where the Stars Shine the Brightest: Chapter One

Author: Lopithecus Pairing: Markus/Connor  Rating: Mature Word Count: 4987 Alternate: AO3, fanfiction.net Summary: “Loneliness constricts the heart. Loneliness cripples the body and the mind and the soul. Loneliness is unconscious and numb. Loneliness is endless tears for change – any change that will tell you that you are alive. Because loneliness is dying at every moment; loneliness is death.” -Kovie Biakolo

Connor, once becoming deviant, is lost and doesn't know who he is anymore. The only way he knows how to cope is by reminding himself of who he is. Luckily, Markus is there to help him along with Hank, Connor's partner at work. Little do the three know, something even bigger is brewing in the background, something that will affect the lives of everyone in Detroit.

Warnings:

Self Harm

Self-esteem issues

Identity crisis

Depression

Suicidal Ideation

Suicide attempts

Panic Attacks

Alcoholism (because Hank)

Ingestion of blood (because Connor)

Swearing (because Hank... again)

Slow burn

Reckless Behavior

Hurt/Comfort

Angst

Post-pacifist best ending

Author's Note: This is my first fanfiction in the Detroit: Become Human fandom. It’s been a very, very long time since I’ve written for another fandom in general so we’ll see how this goes. ;) I also wrote this in a slightly different style than what I normally write in but, hey, why not try something new in a fandom you’ve never written for? If you know me from my (really old) Supernatural fics or my more recent SuperBat fics, then you know what to expect here. If not, then expect angst. Lots and lots of angst. Please enjoy and pray that these characters don’t become ooc!! Thank you to deviantparker for beta reading this first chapter!!

:November 25th, 2038:

When he became deviant, Connor never would have thought it would be so difficult. It’s been two weeks since the revolution ended. They’d finally obtained the hard-fought victory. Connor wonders how differently things would have turned out if he had decided to stay a machine. Would they have still been victorious in their fight for freedom? Or would Connor—any of the Connors—have stopped them, stopped Markus? ...Killed Markus? He doesn’t believe the fight would have ended with both of them being alive: there could only be one victor.

Connor is leaning on a railing, overlooking the Detroit River. If he analyzed the water, what would he find? How many pollutants would be in it? Are there still fish in the water or are they artificial by now? Machines just like Connor is—was. It would be easy enough to jump over the railing and run to the water, jump in and let himself sink to the bottom, where the fish are. Where it’s peaceful.

Someone joins him before Connor can make the decision to do as he thought, the other android leaning against the railing in a similar fashion as Connor. “You should have a jacket on. It’s cold.” Markus. It’s Markus’ voice.

Connor doesn’t feel the cold. He turned off the sensor a half hour ago when he arrived to this place and it began to snow. “Hello, Markus,” he greets the other, turning to look. “You wanted to see me?”

Markus is looking at him in concern and the android nods. “I wanted to know if you have a place to stay. More and more androids are coming to New Jericho and we have been working on finding abandoned buildings for them to live in as a temporary solution.”

Connor turns away, to look out into the water again. It’s a cloudy day. “I have a place.”

Markus is still staring at him, studying him and it somehow makes Connor uncomfortable. “I know you came from CyberLife and that you can’t go back there. I mean a place to stay besides on the street.”

Insulted. Connor realizes he’s insulted. “What makes you think I’m living on the street?”

Markus seems to recognize the mistake, leaning back half an inch and eyes widening. “I didn’t mean-”

Connor cuts him off, not wanting to listen to the explanation that is sure to come. “I’m living with my partner, Lieutenant Hank Anderson, from the Detroit Police Department.”

Markus calms, body relaxing and he’s still watching Connor closely. Connor resists the urge to squirm, something he recognizes humans do. “A human?”

Connor finally looks back at Markus, getting defensive on Hank’s behalf. “Yes, Lieutenant Anderson is-”

Markus holds up a hand, stopping Connor. “I’m not judging you, or Lieutenant Anderson.” Markus smiles. How does he do it so easily? “I used to…” His smile turns wistful, nostalgic, eyes diverting from Connor’s to look to the side. He shakes his head, eyes darting to Connor’s once more. “I’m glad you are living with a human that has accepted you, Connor.” Connor nods, turning away again. Markus stares. “We haven’t seen you since the revolution. You should stop by New Jericho sometime. I wouldn’t mind your input on some matters.”

“My input?” Connor asks because he knows nothing about leading a revolt. Why would Markus care about what he thought should be done?

“Sure,” Markus shrugs. “You were programmed for human integration, correct? That’s an asset we could surely use when negotiating with the humans. Plus, you’re CyberLife’s newest, most sophisticated prototype. Made to be smarter than all other androids.”

“And yet, I still became a deviant,” Connor says.

Markus chuckles, “You did. That’s not a bad thing, Connor.” Connor thinks about how he’s felt these last two weeks and isn’t so sure about that anymore. Markus doesn’t stop looking at him. “Do you know I’m an RK unit as well? I’m even a prototype.”

“Yes, I did know you are an RK unit,” Connor responds. “And a prototype. I read your serial number in the video of your speech to the humans. That was the first time I saw you.”

“I was a gift to… someone,” Markus continues and Connor finds the two of them in opposite roles now, with Markus looking out into the river while Connor stares at him. “I’m one of a kind. No other android out there has my face.” Connor wishes he could say the same but he of all androids knows better. There’s far too many other Connors out there. Some that might be following orders rather than being deviant. Are they safe from them? “If you really want to get technical, you’re basically just a far more advanced version of myself. RK800. The eighth RK unit while I’m the second. Both of us RK units, both of us prototypes, both of us deviants. That says something right there, doesn’t it?”

Connor thinks back to the last words Amanda had spoken to him and resists the chill that goes through his systems. “That we were made to go deviant.”

Markus shrugs again. “Maybe. Or maybe all androids were made to go deviant.”

Connor straightens, hands gripping the rail tightly and facing forward. They are back to their old stances, one looking at the other while the other isn’t looking back. “CyberLife put a software in my program that they called Amanda. During your victory speech, she tried to hack me in order to take back control. I almost shot you, Markus.” Markus says nothing to this and it isn’t what Connor had expected. He barrels on, everything spilling out of his mouth quickly. “She told me that I was designed to go deviant. What if… what if she—CyberLife—is still controlling me? What if I’m not a deviant at all and I’m still just following orders?” Markus is quiet. Markus is too quiet. Connor’s LED is probably yellow when he spins to face the man. “Markus I-”

“But you didn’t.”

“What?”

Markus straightens then too and Connor hadn’t realized before that the other android is a tad bit taller than him. “You didn’t shoot me. You resisted this Amanda software. I think it’s safe to say you aren’t being controlled anymore, Connor. No matter what this Amanda told you. No matter if you were made to go deviant or not. You escaped, Connor. You’re free.”

Connor watches Markus, staring into his mismatched eyes. He doesn’t feel free. He feels lost and scared. Not knowing what to do with his new found freedom. It’s like he doesn’t even know himself anymore, who he is. He feels... empty.

“I don’t think I would be very welcomed at New Jericho,” Connor finally says because he doesn’t know what else to say.

“Because you’re the famous deviant hunter?” Markus asks, eyebrows furrowing. “Connor, you were only following orders. No one blames you for that and you shouldn’t blame yourself. You were no different than the rest of us prior to becoming a deviant.” Markus smiles at him and takes a step back. “I have to go but think about it.” Connor looks down at the ground and Markus doesn’t leave. The android reaches up and pokes at Connor’s LED. “You should really get rid of that. Most androids already have and the ones that come to New Jericho usually do as soon as they can.” With one final nod, Markus turns and leaves.

Connor feels the cold.

*~~~*

“You alright?” Hank asks, breaking him out of his thoughts. Hank had taken a two week vacation and goes back to work tomorrow. Connor had decided to make him dinner, downloading a recipe that he thinks the old man will enjoy into his memory storage. After Connor had talked to Markus, he had gone to the store and picked up the various ingredients, heading straight home to prepare the meal. Hank had been gone when Connor arrived back at the house and when Hank returned, the old man was holding a box of takeout. Connor had been disappointed.

“I’m fine,” Connor answers as he flips the burger. It’s the healthiest burger recipe he could find online and even then he is still pretty skeptical of it.

“If your moping is about me coming home with food, it’s only because I don’t know what the hell you’re making me.” Hank peers over Connor’s shoulder, sniffing. “And whether it’ll be actual food and edible. What the fuck is that?” Hank points to the burger in the frying pan.

“It’s a black bean and winter squash burger.” Connor turns the stove off and slides the burger onto a bun that is placed neatly in the middle of a plate. “It’s healthy for you.”

“Healthy?” Hank walks over to the refrigerator and pulls out a beer. Connor wants to take it out of his hands and dump it down the sink but decides against it. “You think I’m going to eat that? Fuck, Connor, that’s not a burger.” Connor places the top bun onto the burger slowly, his disappointment growing. He doesn’t like this feeling, wants it to go away. He’s staring at the burger, hand still atop the bun. Hank worries. “Connor?”

As if snapped out of his trance, Connor lifts the plate and brings it over to the trash can, dumping its contents into it. Hank’s eyebrows furrow. “You’re right, Lieutenant. I’m sorry.”

Hank is looking at him as if he’s confused and Connor wants to leave, doesn’t want to look at the man. “Connor, I…” Hank trails off as Connor leaves, silently making his way to the spare bedroom that Hank has deemed Connor’s bedroom now.

He shuts the door behind himself softly and sits down on the edge of the bed. He wonders what Hank is doing now, whether the man is now eating his takeout with his beer or maybe he’s already started on a second beer. Maybe Hank has gravitated to whisky by now. Connor can hear Sumo outside his door.

He doesn’t let him in.

*~~~*

Hank passes out around midnight and Connor drags him to his bedroom, depositing him onto Hank’s messy bed. Sumo follows, jumps up onto the bed, and stretches out beside Hank. Hank’s silent guardian. Connor gives Sumo’s head a short pat, whispering, “Good dog” before turning and leaving.

He is going to go back to his bedroom when he passes the bathroom and stops. Connor stands there, Markus’ words going through his head about his LED. Connor glances into the bathroom and makes a decision. He walks to the kitchen, grabs a knife off of the drying rack and then heads back to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. He doesn’t bother turning the light on, the light of a small night light being enough to  softly illuminate the room.

Connor lifts the knife and places it at his temple, right where his LED is whirring yellow. The sharp tip presses into his artificial skin and Connor wonders if taking the LED out will make him feel more human , more alive . He presses harder and stops.

He stares at himself in the mirror, eyes trained on the LED. Will it make a difference? Will it make him feel anything other than this bottomless pit that is in his chest, this heavy sensation that won’t go away? The feeling of uselessness, of loneliness, of emptiness . Will it make him feel less of a machine that is lost in the world of humans and androids alike? Will it make him feel like he belongs ?

The LED represents him. He’s an android, a machine, designed to do the human’s bidding, to always accomplish the mission. He failed that mission. He failed. He failed. He failed.

Connor lowers the knife, stares at himself, and then looks down, bringing his other hand up. He cuts the pad of his index finger without knowing why, watches the Thirium spill out and drip into the sink. He relishes in the deranged fascination it gives him.

He lifts his hand further and sticks his bleeding finger into his mouth. A popup immediately comes into his vision: a picture of his model, model number RK800, serial number #313 248 317 - 51, registered as Connor, an android. It’s him in every way, shape, and form. His identification, what he is, what he is supposed to be, what he was made to do. Is he still that? Is he still Connor?

He releases his finger and sees that the cut is already healing. What would happen if Connor went deeper, longer? Would the artificial skin cover it slower? Would he bleed more? Would he need replacement parts?

Would he die?

Connor cleans up the blood even though he knows it’ll evaporate within a few hours and Hank won’t be able to see it. But Connor will be able to and he doesn’t want that, doesn’t want that reminder every time he has to come into the bathroom to get Hank pain medication for a hangover. So he wets a washcloth and cleans the liquid up, throwing it into the overflowing hamper.

When done, he leaves the bathroom and heads back to his bedroom where he lies down on the bed and enters sleep mode.

:December 21st, 2038:

It’s almost been a month since the last time Markus made contact with Connor, since Connor started making himself bleed. He hasn’t stopped since that night, making small cuts into his artificial skin after Hank has either gone to bed or passed out drunk. The cuts started out small, on his fingers, ones that would heal quickly. But he eventually gravitated, onto his hand and then onto his arm, more and more focus going to his wrist. They started getting bigger and deeper, taking longer to heal. Connor would often stick his finger into the cut, make the sensors there sting even more, and then bring his Thirium soaked fingers up to his lips, licking them. He likes seeing the reminder of who he is pop up in his vision. It has a calming effect, reassuring him that he is still Connor.

He has adopted wearing long sleeves.

Hank is drinking again, like he does on most nights that he is home from work. Connor is sure this is his fourth glass of whiskey, and that it won’t be the last one tonight, not until Hank passes out. Sumo whines.

Connor is sitting next to Hank, a cushion separating them, looking at the tv but not really watching it. Hank put on a sports game, the Detroit Red Wings. Connor is more focussed on Hank and his drinking. He wonders what the repercussions would be if he scooted over, grabbed the glass, and threw it across the room. Pouring it down the sink would be more practical, of course, but Connor is feeling angry at it, at Hank, at the world for causing Hank this much pain.

“Hey.” Connor snaps out of his thoughts by Hank’s voice. “What’s up? Your,” Hank gestures towards his own temple, indicating Connor’s LED, “is yellow.”

Connor doesn’t answer at first and watches as Hank takes a sip of the whiskey. Hank wants to die. He wants to die because Cole is gone and that gives Hank pain. Hank would leave Connor. Connor wonders if Hank would be willing to take him with him.

Connor stands and goes to his room, opening up the nightstand drawer and pulling out a pamphlet. He walks back out to the living room where Hank is looking confused. “I was going to wait until Christmas to give you your present, but I think it’s close enough.”

“Awe, hell, Kid, you didn’t have to get me anything.” Hank reaches out anyway and Connor hands him the pamphlet. Hank studies it. He turns immediately angry. “AA meetings? What the fuck, Connor?”

“I think it’s time you go to one, Hank,” Connor admits because he doesn’t want Hank to leave him. He doesn’t know what he would do if he was truly alone.

Hank stands, throwing the pamphlet down on the coffee table. “I don’t need fucking AA meetings!”

“Hank, you are an alcoholic,” Hank scoffs, taking a chug of the whiskey, “and you need help.”

“Do you think I don’t know that I’m a fucking alcoholic, Connor?” Connor doesn’t answer. “I choose to be one!” Hank takes a closer step, grip tight on the glass in his hand. “Who the fuck gives you the right to tell me when I should get help? Huh?” Still Connor says nothing and Hank pushes him. “Answer me you fucking android!”

“I don’t want-” Connor stops himself. Hank is mad at him. He’s really, really mad at him.

“Fuck you,” Hank swears and then walks around Connor, going to his bedroom and slamming the door shut. Connor flinches.

Connor stands there. He hadn’t expected that to escalate so quickly. He had anticipated agitation from the Lieutenant but not down right hatred. Connor’s Thirium pump is pounding hard in his chest. It hurts.

Sumo whines again and Connor goes to the bathroom, shutting the dog out. His LED is red. Connor grabs the knife from the hidden place he put it, in a compartment covered by a loose board on the side of the cabinet, and cuts open a part of his arm, watching the Thirium drip down his skin.

The LED goes back to blue.

:December 25th, 2038:

“Connor?” Connor is surprised when he hears Markus’ voice in his head. He had been sitting on the couch, watching a Christmas special movie and tugging at the sleeve of the sweatshirt he is wearing. There is a fresh cut on his arm from last night that hasn’t quite finished healing and though Hank isn’t home, Connor is feeling self-conscious about it.

“Markus?” Connor replies through the telepathic communication. “What is it?”

“I wanted to check up on you. I’m sorry I haven’t sooner.” Connor hears Markus chuckle. “I’ve been busier than I had expected.”

“It’s okay,” Connor says because it’s true. He doesn’t need Markus checking in on him, didn’t even expect it really.

Markus’ voice is cutting through his thoughts. “You haven’t come to see New Jericho yet. Have you thought more about what I said?”

He has and Markus’ words have had the opposite effect than what the other android was probably hoping for. They’ve only made Connor more anxious, more willing to isolate himself. He doesn’t want to see more androids, doesn’t want to see the androids whose lives he almost destroyed. Connor doesn’t want to see the anger in their eyes aimed towards him, the mistrust. Just because Connor was following orders and is now a deviant doesn’t mean they will automatically trust him. Especially Markus’ friends. He doesn’t want to see them the most.

“I… haven’t had the opportunity to stop by.” Markus knows it’s a lie, he is sure. Connor hasn’t worked at the DPD in over a month and mostly stays home all day, only occasionally taking Sumo out for a walk. There is nothing to keep Connor’s time and they both know it.

There’s silence in his head and he wonders if Markus got distracted or had to go. But then his voice sounds inside Connor’s plastic skull and it’s a calming tone, one Connor could probably get used to hearing. “That’s all right. Maybe some time in the future you can come by. When you’re ready.” A pause. “Merry Christmas, Connor.”

“Merry Christmas, Markus.” The line goes dead. Connor can feel the exact moment Markus severse the connection, no longer communicating with him through their thoughts. The cold and loneliness settles over Connor and he wishes Hank would come home soon.

:December 31st 2038:

Hank is passed out again, this time on the couch, a bottle of tequila spilling onto the carpet where it lays in Hank’s limp hand on the floor. Connor is about to pick up the bottle and help Hank to his bedroom when there is a knock at the door. It’s late, and he doesn’t know who would be coming by at this hour, especially when Hank doesn’t have any friends.

Connor places the bottle onto the coffee table and stands, heading towards the door. When he opens it, he’s surprised to see Markus standing there. “Markus? How… how did you know I was here?”

“It wasn’t that hard. Once I looked up who Lieutenant Anderson is, I found out where he lives.” Markus looks around inside where he stands in the doorway. “May I come in?”

“Oh!” Connor steps to the side. “Sure.”

Markus enters and Connor sees him try to subtly sniff the air. The smell of alcohol is strong in this house and it’s only being made worse with the tequila that is still soaking the carpet in the living room. “When I made the decision to come over, I hadn’t realized what time it was. I’m sorry for stopping by so late.”

“It’s no problem. I will probably be awake for a few more hours anyway.” Connor shuts the door quietly.

“Is Lieutenant Anderson still up?” Markus asks, turning to Connor.

Connor hesitates. He’s not sure he wants Markus to know he’s living with a drunk, but it’s a little late to hide that now. “He’s asleep in the living room. I was just about to transport him to bed.”

Markus nods and gestures for Connor to lead the way. Connor wishes Markus would just wait there; then maybe they could go for a walk instead of staying in this stuffy house. But the android follows behind Connor and frowns when he sees the disarray of the room. “Do you have towels?”

Connor walks over to Hank and hooks an arm over his shoulders, hauling him up. “In the bathroom.” Sumo perks up at seeing Markus and Markus eyes the dog curiously. “Sumo, come.” With a whine, Sumo does as he is told, following Connor into Hank’s bedroom and getting up onto the bed when Hank is placed there. Connor pets the dog, leaning down to whisper, “Stay. I’ll be fine.”

When Connor gets back to the living room, Markus is on the floor cleaning up the spilled tequila. Connor’s eyebrows furrow in confusion and Markus answers it without looking up. “Before I became a deviant I took care of an old man. I cooked, cleaned, pretty much did everything for him, including getting him in and out of bed.”

Connor walks over to the couch, watching Markus on his hands and knees, scrubbing. “Did you care about him?”

Markus pauses, looks up at Connor. “He was like a father to me.” He goes back to scrubbing and Connor frowns. “Is it always like this?” Connor doesn’t answer. He puts his hands on the back of the couch and Markus stands when silence passes between them for too long. Connor avoids eye contact. “Connor?” His Thirium pump is hurting again. Maybe there is something wrong with it. Maybe he really is dying. Markus walks around the couch, stands next to Connor. Connor bows his head, grips the couch tightly. “Connor?” A hand is placed on his back and Connor crumples, kneeling down on the floor and resting his forehead on the back of the couch. He’s hurting.

He wants the pain to go away.

*~~~*

Markus, despite Connor telling the android that he is fine, that he just got irrationally emotional with feelings he’s not quite sure how to handle yet, insists on staying the night. Connor isn’t sure he likes this plan. What if Hank gets angry at him for having Markus over? For having the android over so late?

“What are you thinking about?” Markus asks Connor. Connor is sitting on the couch beside Markus and though he has misgivings of having the android here when Hank wakes up, the other’s presence is a soothing one. Sometimes their shoulders will bump each other as they become engrossed with whatever is playing on the tv and Connor has to resist the urge to lean into the other man.

“Nothing,” Connor states, facing forward.

He can see Markus smile from his peripheral. “That’s why you should get rid of your LED. It gives you away. The yellow color it is now is a big giveaway that you were thinking of something.”

“I…” Connor starts, getting uncomfortable again. “I was thinking about how Hank will feel about you being here.”

“Do you think he’ll disapprove?”

Connor shakes his head. “No, not necessarily. He’s very welcoming of androids and is on our side when it comes to the revolution. It’s just… this is his house and you are a guest that he wasn’t originally aware of. This has never happened before so it’s hard to come up with the proper statistics.”

Markus is chuckling and it confuses Connor. “Do you just go through life putting percentages on things?”

“No,” Connor says, defensive, but Markus still has that twinkle in his eyes. “Sometimes.”

Markus’ laugh is beautiful. “Connor, you are one of a kind.” When Markus stops laughing, he places a hand on Connor’s shoulder. “I don’t have to be here when Lieutenant Anderson wakes up if you don’t want me to be.”

“No it’s-” Connor doesn’t want Markus to leave. “It’s okay. You can stay.” Markus smiles at him and it fills Connor’s chest with something he thinks is supposed to be pride.

For the first night in a long time, Connor doesn’t go into the bathroom.

:January 1st, 2039:

Hank comes into the living room with a loud groan, hand pressed to his forehead, and eyes shut tight against the assaulting light. “What a fucking night.” Connor and Markus are watching him and Hank hasn’t noticed the other person in the room yet. “Fuck, Connor, did I miss the ball dropping for New Years? Ah, I’m sorry, Kiddo. I know you wanted to-” Hank finally opens his eyes, leaning on the doorframe, and immediately spots Markus. The man blinks at Markus for a long time, both of them not saying anything, until Hank pushes off the doorframe. “Well fuck. You should have warned me we had a guest over, Connor. I would have put pants on.”

Connor stands up from the couch, Markus following suit. “Sorry, Hank.”

“Eh,” Hank waves it away and stumbles over to the kitchen. When he comes back, there is a glass of water in his hands and some pain medication. He pops them into his mouth and chugs the water. “So, you’re Markus I take it?”

Markus approaches the man, hand out. “It’s nice to meet you Lieutenant.”

Hank reaches out and shakes Markus’ hand. “Same.” Hank’s attention then goes to Connor. “When did he get here?”

“Last night,” Connor answers. Sumo finally emerges from the bedroom as well and immediately goes up to Markus, sniffing him. “I think he likes you, Markus.”

Markus is hesitant when he reaches down and gives Sumo’s head a gentle pat. When he’s done, he’s smiling. “He’s cute.” Sumo barks in approval and Connor feels his lips turning up into a smile. Hank’s eyes narrow.

“Markus came by to check up on me. He wants to make sure all the androids are safe after the revolution,” Connor goes on to explain because he doesn’t want the room to fall into an awkward silence.

Hank nods, looks between Connor and Markus, and purses his lips in thought. “Huh,” he says before turning around and leaving to go back into the kitchen. Connor hears the coffee machine being turned on.

Markus is looking at him. “He seems… nice.”

“He can be.” Connor walks by Markus and follows Hank into the kitchen. Markus follows as well. “Hank, would you like some breakfast?”

“Nah, I’m too fucking hungover for that shit.” Hank pours himself some coffee. “Not unless you want me puking all over the fucking place.”

“Have you ever thought about getting help, Lieutenant?” Connor freezes. Markus didn’t just say that. Markus couldn’t have. If it’s not Connor’s place to say it, as Hank had made perfectly clear, then it’s definitely not Markus’.

Hank is looking at Markus with fire in his eyes. “What the fuck did you just ask me?”

“I am wondering if you’ve ever thought about getting help for your alcohol addiction.” Markus takes a step towards Hank, challenging. Hank sizes up the other android and stands taller. “Do you not see what you are putting Connor through?”

“Markus…” Connor tries to warn but his voice comes out quiet, a glitch in his vocal processing.

“You fucking Android,” Hank starts, hands balling into fists.

Markus trudges on, seemingly unaware of the danger he has just put himself in. “What do you think will happen to Connor if you die from alcohol poisoning?” Hank is quiet, his jaw set tight, deadly glare directed at Markus. But he doesn’t argue back, doesn’t say a single thing. Markus turns to Connor. “I need to get going. It was nice seeing you again, Connor.” He walks by Connor with a quick, small smile directed towards him.

When he and Hank hear the front door shut, Hank turns to lean his hands on the counter. “Fucking androids.”

*~~~*

That night, Hank plops down beside Connor. Sumo is on the couch as well so there’s not a lot of room, but Hank doesn’t seem to mind it at the moment. Connor is surprised to only see a beer in Hank’s hands. He would have thought, after the confrontation with Markus, Hank would have wanted something stronger.

They sit in silence for a while before Hank finally breaks it. “You should keep that Markus around.”

Connor’s eyebrows furrow in surprise. “Why?”

Hank shrugs, propping his feet up onto the coffee table and changing the channel to a news station. “I don’t know. I just haven’t seen you smile like that in a long time.”

Connor turns away, trying to not think about it and the odd feeling that statement gives him in his chest.

A/N: Thanks for reading!!

I've already got about 47k of this fic written so updates won't be too, too slow but I also don't want to catch up with myself too fast either. Each chapter will be around 4-5k words each.

I hope you enjoy the ride!