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Hank stood in a loose semi-circle with five other men. They were all wielding semi-automatic weapons, Hank included. He and the other men were responsible for guarding the androids meant to be shipped out later that day. They were holed up in the back of a warehouse currently and their ‘boss’ was in the next room over - an office of some sort - talking to their buyer.
Hank looked over the group of ten terrified-looking androids, his stomach turning. All of the androids had their hands secured behind their backs with zip ties, wrenched back in uncomfortable-looking positions. They were also all fit with jamming devices to stop them from calling for help, small round discs pressed between their shoulder blades. But that wasn’t the worst of all in Hank’s mind. What Hank truly hated was how the people running this were treating the androids as worse than cattle.
They’d taken all of their clothes, save for their underwear, and forced everyone to deactivate their skin projections. It brought back memories of what Hank had seen in the images of the camps where androids were shut down during the revolution. Connor was among them. Their eyes met for a second but Hank made sure not to linger too long.
This was the end of a hellish week-long undercover operation. This android trafficking ring had likely been operating long before the android revolution ever happened. Since androids had become recognized as people though, now it was viewed a lot more seriously than just missing property.
It had taken Fowler a full month to find them a way in. Hank acted as a rookie - laughable given his age - that wanted to join the ranks of the smugglers. Connor played the part of his bargaining piece. A rare prototype that would sell for a large sum of money.
When Fowler had initially come to them with this plan, Hank had been adamant that they shouldn’t do it. No way was he going to risk the life of his so- of his partner in a case like this. It was too risky, too much could go wrong. But Connor had insisted, the big-hearted idiot, wanting to do everything he could to save the androids being taken.
He’d even had the gall to suggest going alone if Hank was so opposed to being undercover. The idiot of course completely missed the point that it was Connor Hank didn’t want to go undercover. Well, no way in hell was he letting the kid do this shit alone. So here he found himself, surrounded by scumbags who thought selling people was alright, waiting for backup to arrive.
He’d barely had time to make the call, doing it just minutes before their ‘boss’ called them in to guard the merchandise. They moved around a lot and this was the first time all week they’d stayed in one place for more than a day. They were shipping the androids out tonight, making it their last chance to end this thing. It was also the first time Hank met the boss in person, and he couldn’t wait to bring him down.
It would take an hour at least for Fowler to mobilize the team set to raid this place. Since they were leaving that night though - six hours from now - it wouldn’t be a problem. Hank let his eyes skim over the androids again. It had been twenty minutes since he made the call. They were almost there.
It was only fall, but bitingly cold for the season. They were inside, but this building lacked any insulation. Hank and the other humans were wearing thick coats but the androids had nothing to keep them warm other than each other. It was the only upside of them being forced to huddle so close together.
Connor was near the outskirts of the group, off to Hank’s right. He was probably cold. Hank knew the kid didn’t like the cold, it bringing up bad memories for him. And here he was stuck without any clothes or anything to keep him warm for a week . Hank really hated this operation. He knew it was important, but the sentiment still stood.
He couldn’t wait until they could go home. Then he could bundle Connor up in a few sweaters, probably wrap him in a blanket or two for good measure. He’d warm him some thirium - something the kid had grown to enjoy in the colder months - and Hank could have some hot chocolate. They’d sit on the couch with Sumo and just take a few days off. They needed it after all this.
Connor shot him a look. Shit, he’d been staring too long. He looked away, schooling his features as best as he was able.
“That one’s pretty, huh?” the guy next to him said.
“What?” Hank asked, caught off guard.
“That one,” he pointed with his gun at the female android sitting next to Connor. “Wonder if the boss will let me have some fun with it before the sale,” he said. Hank grit his teeth and resisted the urge to smash the man’s face in with the butt of his gun.
“Maybe,” he said.
“Oh come on, don’t pretend like you weren’t looking at it too,” the man smirked. Would it really be that bad to sock this bastard? Sure there were four other men with semi-automatic weapons, but this guy really deserved it.
“Not interested,” Hank said.
“Ohhh, I see,” the man said, “you were into the guy next to it. It is pretty good-looking. Maybe I’ll ask about that one too.”
Hank saw red. If this fucker tried to do anything to Connor, then Hank was going to shove his gun so far up his ass he’d pop when Hank pulled the trigger. Or maybe he’d just strangle the life out of him right now.
“Geeze, just joking man,” the guy laughed, raising his hands defensively, “No need to glare like that, you can have it to yourself.”
Hank was done, he was so done with all this shit. His hands clenched around the handle of his gun as he tried to reign in the rage threatening to explode out of him. Thirty more minutes. He could last thirty more minutes. Then all these assholes would be in jail and Hank would never have to deal with this shit again. Fowler be damned, he already decided. No more undercover shit for him and Connor.
He was saved from having to endure any more of the other guy’s chatter by the boss entering the room. He came over to stand between them and the androids, taking a few seconds to look over them. There was a slight upturn to his lips as he watched them shiver and look up at him with wide, frightened eyes. Sadistic bastard. Then he turned his attention to Hank and the rest of his men.
“Just got a call from our buyer. He wants a friend to pick up the Tracis. We’re going to meet him once we get everything loaded up. Then we’re taking the rest and meeting him at a different location,” he said.
“Ah man, there goes my fun,” the man next to Hank grumbled.
“You know the rule about merchandise, Dirk,” the boss said. Hank needed to figure something out, to buy some time. They were so close to ending this. He just had to keep them here for thirty more minutes. He could do that.
“Isn’t that a little suspicious?” Hank spoke up. All eyes turned to him, the boss fixing him with a glare.
“What was that newbie?” he asked. Hank cleared his throat, feeling sweat spring to his brow.
“What I mean is. It’s kinda last minute, isn’t it? He’s going to take everyo-thing,” Hank quickly corrected himself. Couldn’t have them knowing he saw androids as people, “and then he suddenly changes his mind. Just seems odd is all.”
The boss narrowed his eyes, walking to stand directly in front of Hank. He jammed a finger into the lieutenant’s chest. “Listen, here. You’re new, so I’ll let this go for now. But when a client wants something, we don’t ask questions. Doesn’t matter what, as long as they’re paying us. He wants us to take it apart and ship it to him next week then that’s what we’re gonna do,” he said.
“Understood,” Hank grit out. The androids, having clearly heard the conversation, were getting even antsier. And Hank couldn’t blame them. They had no way of knowing that help was on the way. It still didn’t make things any easier when one of the Traci models stumbled to her feet and started running. Two of the men aimed to shoot, but the boss stopped them.
“Grab it you idiots! We don’t get paid if it’s dead!” he snapped. With her hands tied behind her back, there was little the android could do when Dirk ran over and wrapped his hands around her shoulders.
“No!” she screamed, thrashing in his hold, “No, please! Someone help!”
“No one’s gonna hear you all the way out here,” Dirk chuckled. He wrestled her back to the group, fingers tight around her thin arms. He didn’t even notice her swinging her foot until it connected with his crotch. “You fuckin’...” he wheezed, doubled over.
All humor gone, he was lifting his gun to point it at her. And Connor - Hank’s stupid, idiot, too empathetic for his own good partner - picked that moment to intervene. He stood up and in a flash and was ramming his shoulder into Dirk’s stomach. A shot was fired, but with Connor’s interference, it missed, just barely scraping the Traci’s arm.
Suddenly all guns were pointed at Connor. Hank had to do something fast. He dropped his own gun, choosing instead to charge at Connor, tackling him to the floor. He subtly braced his arm underneath the android, both to stop his head from smacking into the ground and to make sure he did squish him under his weight.
“Fuckin’ android! The hell do you think you’re doing!” Hank snapped. He fixed Connor with a look that he hoped conveyed the message of Seriously, what the hell was that about? Connor’s lips were pressed into a thin line, and his return look said something along the lines of Well I wasn’t going to let her get shot .
The boss was screaming again in the background at the others to not shoot, didn’t they know much prototypes went for. Hank pushed off the ground, leaving Connor laying there. The android struggled to a sitting position, fixing Hank with a glare that didn’t reach his eyes. Hank returned the look, hoping he looked passably irritated.
“Looks like we need to teach these two a lesson,” the boss said. Hank looked over his shoulder at the man. Dirk had a grin on his face that Hank did not like the look of.
“What are you talking about?” Hank asked.
“You’re new, but this is a good learning experience. You see, our buyers don’t want their androids so… feisty , usually. So when they give us trouble we need to teach them it’s not a good idea, you get it?” the boss said. An icy feeling gripped Hank’s chest.
“You might need to spell it out for me, I’m a little slow,” Hank said. The boss rolled his eyes.
“Dirk, show the newbie,” the boss said.
“Of course. Come with me, newbie ,” he said. Hank tensed but followed Dirk over to the wall where a few crates were sitting open. All of the eyes in the room followed them. He reached into one and pulled something out, tossing it to Hank. It was a metal pipe. Dirk grabbed another one himself.
“Better than using your hands. Androids have surprisingly hard shells,” he said. Hank suppressed a grimace. When backup arrived, this would be the first asshole he’d take down.
Hank already knew where this was going, but there was nothing he could do to stop it. Dirk walked back over to the Traci, who was cowering on the ground only a few feet away from Connor. Dirk raised the pipe over his shoulder, then swung it down hard against the Traci’s side. She screamed, falling over. Hank’s hands clenched tightly around the pipe while Dirk laughed.
“You’ve gotta be careful not to kill it or cause any permanent damage, and most clients don’t like it if you break the face… But otherwise, have fun. Let some steam off,” Dirk said, swinging the pipe down again. The sound of cracking plastimetal rang through the air, mingling with her screams. Flecks of blue blood scattered across the floor.
Hank tore his eyes away from the scene to look at Connor. His attention was fully on the Traci, as was the case with all the other androids in the room. His LED was flashing red and when he turned his gaze on Hank, the lieutenant felt his heart clench.
The kid was trying to put on a brave face, but Hank could tell he was afraid. His jaw was set and he tried to work a glare onto his face but he only made it halfway there. His eyes were just a bit too wide and shimmering and he had stopped breathing.
“Well, get to it,” the boss said over the screams of the other android. Hank approached Connor, hefting the pipe over his shoulder.
He had to do this. There was no other way. If he didn’t, then their cover would be blown. Backup was close, but it would only take seconds for them to gun him and Connor down. He couldn’t get out of it. His palms were sweating, making the metal of the pipe feel slick.
He didn’t have a choice. It wasn’t like he wanted to hurt Connor. Sure, he’d made threats before the revolution, but things were different now. He wasn’t the same bitter asshole that he had been back then. He would never hurt Connor, not if there was any other way. The kid had to know that, right? He had to do this.
He took a step forward, again clenching and unclenching his fist. He brought his other hand up, gripping the pipe with it as well. The Traci’s screams had faded into broken sobs. Everyone was waiting. Connor was waiting, watching him.
“Come on old man! Get it over with already!” Connor shouted at him.
Hank couldn’t do this. He took one look into Connor’s eyes, and he just couldn’t . How was he supposed to look into Connor’s eyes and see the barely restrained fear swimming there and then hurt him? It didn’t matter that Connor was asking him to do it, that he knew Hank didn’t mean it. None of that mattered because at the end of the day Connor would still be afraid, and in pain, and it would be Hank’s fault.
“If you’re too pussy to do it, then let me have a swing,” Dirk said, already stepping forward. Hank blocked him off.
“I’m getting to it. Just… looking for the best angle,” he lied. He didn’t have any time. If he didn’t do this, then someone a whole lot more sadistic than him was going to do it. He met Connor’s eyes one last time and the android gave a barely perceptible nod. Hank grit his teeth and swung down.
He held back as much as he could while still having the hit be believable. He still felt sick at the cracking sound that rang out from where the pipe had hit Connor’s arm. Connor bit his lip, cutting off any sound that had been about to come out. A thin trickle of thirium dripped down his chin.
Hank swung again, this time for the other shoulder, a little lower than the joint. Again, that cracking noise filled the air. Hank lowered his gaze, anything to not have to watch Connor’s face while he did this. He couldn’t stop after two hits. It wasn’t enough. They wouldn’t believe it.
He swung the pipe at Connor’s chest for the third hit. He carefully avoided where he knew the android’s thirium pump regulator was, instead hitting where there was reinforced plating. A metallic clang rang out, but thankfully no cracking.
The next one to his right arm again, lower this time. His aim was miscalculated though, and a strangled scream escaped Connor’s mouth as the pipe bent his elbow joint at an angle it wasn’t meant to go. Hank was going to be sick. He could feel the bile rising in his throat and had to choke it back down. Everyone was still watching, expectantly. Why wasn’t this enough!?
His hands were trembling. He hesitated, then went for the other arm. He was more careful this time, hitting well below the joint. But he barely put any force behind the blow and he knew the others could tell.
“Tired already, gramps?” Dirk mocked.
“No! Now back off,” Hank snapped at the other man. He could tell from the way Dirk was holding his pipe that if he had a turn, he would use every ounce of force he could muster. He wouldn’t care if he damaged Connor beyond repair.
Hank again went for Connor’s chest, knowing the reinforced plating was the least likely to get badly damaged if he used more force. The blow knocked the android to the side and he let out a strained wheezing sound. Shit! It was supposed to be able to take more than that, wasn’t it? Connor always talked about it being military quality, why did that hurt him so much?
Hank’s eyes were stinging, but he blinked hard. He couldn’t show this was affecting him. He had to be heartless. He had to do this so that no one else would. He brought it down on Connor’s side, pulling his strength as much as he dared. Another choked sound, followed by more wheezing. There were tears dripping down Connor’s cheeks as he curled in on himself.
Hank swung the pipe down once across Connor’s back. The pained noises he made were like daggers stabbing into Hank’s heart. One more. One more had to be enough. They would have to be satisfied with one more hit. He couldn’t do more than that. He just couldn’t.
He searched for anywhere that wasn’t already damaged. Connor was shaking, thirium dripping from various hairline fractures along his body. He dropped the pipe, then swung his foot forward towards Connor’s stomach. He pulled back at the last second, reducing the force of the blow as much as he could. He hoped it had looked real enough. Hank stepped back.
“I suppose it’s had enough,” the boss sighed, “don’t want to damage it too much.”
“You sure I can’t have a turn?” Dirk asked. Hank could hear Connor’s breathing hitch.
“No, just start loading the merchandise into the truck,” the boss said.
“Damn…” Dirk muttered but dropped the pipe.
The rest of the men began to gather around the androids, shouting at them to get to their feet. Dirk grabbed the Traci by the arm, yanking her off the floor with a yelp. Hank moved towards Connor.
All at once though, their movement was halted by the sound of doors slamming open and boots on the ground.
“Shit!” the boss cursed. But they were all too late to do anything.
“Freeze!” it was the SWAT Captain Allen, followed by a mix of his team and others from the DPD. Finally, they took long enough. Dirk tried to point his gun at the Traci, but Hank grabbed his abandoned pipe, sneaking up behind the man.
Hank put all of his power behind it, bringing the pipe down hard on the man’s shoulder. He dropped the gun with a scream, falling to his knees. Hank was tempted to hit him again but decided going back to Connor was more important. The rest of the men were being rounded up quickly, deciding that even with their weapons they stood no chance against the force double in size to their own. Hank returned to Connor, crouching down next to him.
He was still curled up on his side, face twisted in a pained grimace. Noticing Hank now at his side, he tried to give him a smile, but it was strained.
“Let’s get you out of these,” Hank said, pulling out a small pocket knife and cutting away the zip ties around Connor’s wrists. He also pulled off the jamming device, which finally allowed Connor’s skin projection to return. Connor moved his hands to push himself off the floor and Hank helped him up with an arm wrapped around his back. He was shaking.
“Here,” Hank slipped off his jacket, wrapping the thick garment around Connor’s shoulders. Connor pulled it tighter around himself but winced at the motion.
“How bad is it?” Hank asked. It wasn’t a matter of if he was okay or not because clearly, he wasn’t, but the android ambulance was still a ways out. They’d told Hank when he made the call that it couldn’t arrive with the raiding team due to the risk of gunfire, but would be following closely behind.
“Not that bad,” Connor said. The blue blood soaking into the sleeves of the jacket told a different story.
“Connor, I-” Hank swallowed, “I’m really sorry. I didn’t want to hurt you. It was fucking horrible and I just… I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have had to go through that,” Hank finished lamely. He could feel that old self-hatred rearing its ugly head again. Whatever excuses he made, Connor suffered because of him. He was the one who couldn’t find another way. He was the asshole who’d stood there and beat his own-
“It’s okay, Hank,” Connor said.
“It isn’t really,” Hank muttered. Connor shook his head, leaning against Hank’s chest. Hank wrapped his arm more snugly around the android’s shoulders but was mindful of the damage. He was still trembling, but lighter now that he had the coat.
“If it wasn’t you, it would have been worse. You didn’t cause any serious damage,” Connor said.
“But what about that wheezing? That didn’t sound not-serious,” Hank countered. He was still making that sound now, a slight buzzing of static with every breath he took in.
“My left ventilation component has a minor crack-”
“Doesn’t sound minor to me.”
“But I’m not at risk of shutdown. It can all be repaired,” Connor said. Hank wrapped his other arm around Connor, pulling him into a more proper but still loose hug. Connor leaned his head against Hank’s shoulder.
“Don’t blame yourself, Hank. I’m the one who interfered and caused that situation,” Connor said. Hank scoffed.
“What else were you gonna do? Let that girl die? It’s definitely not your fault, son,” Hank said.
“Well it isn’t yours either,” Connor insisted, “it was just an unfortunate situation.”
“Unfortunate’s one word for it.”
They fell into a silence, well, apart from the traffickers cursing as they were cuffed and dragged away and the other androids crying in relief as the responding officers freed them from their bonds. But Hank and Connor were in their own bubble.
Connor had stopped shivering by now, but Hank kept his loose hold on the android, gently rubbing his hand up and down his arm. Connor rested against Hank’s chest, eyes closed. He wasn’t in stasis, Hank could tell, but just relaxing. After a week of faking to blend in with these people, Hank was beyond relieved to be done with it.
The second Connor was repaired and Hank got him wrapped in those sweaters and blankets, Hank was going to have to give Fowler a piece of his mind. He was done with this undercover shit.