Chapter Text
“No, absolutely not,” Hank protested, practically spitting out his words. “Get that fuckin’ thing out of here.” He wouldn’t have even let her bring it in the house if he had known it was intended to be a gift for him.
Aunt Sara, his father’s sister and ever immune to her nephew’s chronic crankiness, rolled her eyes, unfazed by his loud disapproval. “For goodness sake, Hank. It’s an android, not a bomb,” she argued. “It can help you around the house.”
“I don’t need help!”
The insistence would have probably gone over better if they weren’t standing in a kitchen that looked like it hadn’t seen a clean dish this century. Hank had been working on it, really he had. But between work throwing bullshit at him left and right and spending every minute he could with Cole, there wasn’t a whole lot of time for cleaning the house. He really should hire someone, but who the hell had the money for that?
“Really, you don’t need to be so stubborn,” Aunt Sara insisted gently. “There’s no harm in accepting a little help every now and then. Being a single father is hard, why not lighten the load?”
He hated that she was making sense. He knew he was stressed, overworked, and generally exhausted. But an android? Getting a babysitter already felt like admitting defeat, the last thing he wanted was to rely on a plastic piece of crap to take care of shit that people had been managing on their own for ages. “I don’t need an android. Those things are fuckin’ creepy.”
The android in question stood inhumanly still, staring straight ahead, unphased by the conversation concerning it. Lifeless brown eyes looking at absolutely nothing. Waiting for orders.
It gave Hank chills.
“They are a part of everyday life now, Hank,” she sighed. “They’re like cell phones. Even I have one. I thought millennials were supposed to be the generation that stays on top of technology.”
“Cell phones don’t walk around in all their uncanny valley creepiness.” He waved his hand at it as though to shoo it away. The android stood unresponsive. “Look, just get it out of here. I don’t want it and I sure as hell don’t want it around Cole.”
Sara, ever an Anderson and certainly not one to back down, smacked a tablet onto Hank’s chest. “Well too bad. It’s already bought and paid for, registered in your name.” Hank could have done without her self-satisfied smirk. “It’s all yours, Hank. Like it or not.”
He looked at the tablet just enough to recognize it as the android’s registration papers and user manual. “You’re enjoying this, aren’t you?” he accused
She laughed, not denying it in the slightest. “Just take the gift, it’s not like it was super expensive. I got it on sale.”
“Great,” he grunted. “A budget android on top of all the bullshit? What’s wrong with it?”
“Just a manufacturing defect,” Aunt Sara said with a wave of her hand. “Didn’t come out of the mold right, I think. It looks different from the others of its model.”
Hank gave the android a good look for the first time since it had come into his house. It didn’t really look like any android he had seen before. It had the same, dead-eyed stare and neutral expression, but its features weren’t any of the common ones you’d see scuttling around on the street attending to their masters. Soft, carefully styled brown hair accompanied its brown eyes and pale complexion and there was a smattering of artificial freckles across its clean shaven face.
It was almost too life-like. It freaked him out more than he’d like to admit.
“So that’s why it’s so goofy looking?” he asked.
“Oh, don’t be so mean,” Sara scolded. She patted the android’s cheek in an almost maternal gesture. “I think it looks cute.”
“Then you keep the damn thing.”
“Nice try, Hank. I already told you, it’s in your name.” She grinned, the corners of her eyes crinkling in amusement. “I promise, it’ll be good for you, give you some time to take care of yourself for a change. It can clean the house, shop for groceries. It can even watch Cole when you’re away at work.”
Oh hell no. “There is no fuckin’ way I’m leaving my son to be raised by a damn piece of plastic!” he snapped.
“Always so dramatic.” The old woman sighed, sitting down at the table looking as though Hank’s stubbornness was beginning to wear her out. “I’m not saying it’s going to raise Cole, just keep him safe while you provide for him. You’re a good father, Hank. Nobody in their right mind could possibly argue that. But you can’t do everything all the time.”
He opened his mouth to argue that last part, but she cut him off.
“You’re exhausted, don’t pretend you aren’t.” The kind look she gave him reminded Hank why she was one of the only family members he still talked to. It was hard to stay mad at someone who cared as deeply as Aunt Sara. “Being a single parent is hard. It’s hard on anyone, and your job doesn’t exactly make it easier.” Her expression turned serious, borderline annoyed. “So stuff your goddamn pride and take the android.”
Yup, favorite relative. “You’re really not gonna let me say no to this, are you?”
“Nope. It’s non-negotiable.”
“Fine, you win,” Hank sighed, knowing when he had been beaten. As much as he didn’t want the thing, he appreciated the gesture that accompanied it. His Aunt was genuinely trying to look after him.
Just because he accepted the android, didn’t mean he had to actually use it after all.
“Good,” she smiled triumphantly. “I’m sure you’ll learn to like it eventually, just you wait.”
Hank sincerely doubted that, but didn’t say as much. This thing was going to go in the back of his closet with the other pieces of crap he had been given over the years. “Yeah, yeah. I’m sure,” he agreed anyway. “So what am I supposed to call it? I’m not gonna go around saying ‘android’ or some shit.”
“You get to name it yourself,” Aunt Sara declared happily as though that was a bonus feature he should be excited for. “Otherwise I think it has a default name if you aren’t feeling particularly creative.”
“Right, default then,” Hank concluded. There was really no sense wasting brain power naming the thing. He glanced through the user manual briefly, but no name was listed.
“Oh, don’t waste your time reading through all that,” Sara said. She turned to the android, addressing it directly. “CX100, what is your name?”
The android moved for the first time since Aunt Sara had parked it in his kitchen. It turned its head to her, meeting her eyes. The faintest hint of what almost looked like a smile ghosted across its lips before it spoke.
“My name is Connor.”