SENTIENT

Arbitrary

"Nice view," Somebody stood behind the park bench where she was sitting. Just when she thought she could escape that familiar voice.

She threw away the cigarette butt and crushed it under her the heel of her boots. She wasn't going to ask him how he found her in the middle of the park. She left her phone in the car but it wasn't hard at all for him to track her.

She said, "No, it's Detroit."

It was 10:02 PM, and the skyline of Detroit was alive. Where there is life force, there is existence. It is encompassing, surrounding and covering it in its entirely. Still, she cannot see past the pain inflicted to the most vulnerable of people by the most horrible minds.

"Don't worry, I'm over it. There are worst things in this world, right?"

He decided he was going to approach this differently. Instead of telling her to 'take it one day at a time', he said;

"I have no advice for you."

It was truthful and soul-stirring. Which made her laugh a little. Her head bobbed up and down in a slow, rhythmic manner. She allowed him to occupy the empty space next to her.

"Kind of hoping you would say something like 'you need me to slash some tires?'" She admitted.

The both of them let out a little chuckle.

"We have a new case, is that why you're here?" She got up from that bench to stretch those legs.

"If that was the case, I should be back at the station and not here."

"So, is this a wellness check?"

"Do you need a wellness check?" He asked.

He was still sitting there when they met eyes. She sighed, leaning against the steel railing, turning her back on the edge of the Detroit River.

"You know, you do this thing where you say things like you're programmed to say it," she complained. "I don't know why you think it could influence me."

He got up from the bench. He made a slow, calculated approach towards her, and she allowed this. He said, "I'm sorry."

He was standing right next to her now, towering her by a few inches. Somehow, he knew it wasn't working, but still he needed her to say something.

"You wanted to know what I experienced back in the hospital, and what happened when I tapped into the memory of that deviant."

He began to admit it, "The truth is; I cannot identify it. I'm merely an audience to events that lead to another but sometimes I forget that I am not there with them – and there's no name for it."

"Yes, there is," she said. "It's called empathy."

Now she's looking into him, searching for what it is that she just mentioned. It's there. He had only just learned what to name it.

"It's the same reason why I came back to Detroit. Everything in Chicago just reminds me of him."

"Adrian?"

How badly she wished to never hear that name again. She corrected him, "No, my father."

She stared into the blue of the river, watching each ripple form and disappear like the people in her life. One morning, she was having breakfast with him. The next morning, she wasn't eating anymore.

One day, Detroit is home. The next day, her mother took her to move back to her hometown because she can't live with the memories of the husband she lost.

"Lieutenant Scott Jr. Whitley," he spoke remorsefully. "He died in line of duty during the Battle of 2038."

When she heard the sincerity in his voice, it was hard not to lose it altogether.

The longest part was watching her mother's grief eventually turn into psychosis. Also, never knowing if she made the right choice to involuntarily commit her own mother to a geriatric psychiatric treatment center in Chicago.

For Poppy, the hardest moment was when, out of the blues, her daughter signed up to join the academy and she has to prepare to lose someone else again.

The truth was that, he knew all about it. He knew about her the moment he met her. He knew what the reports say about her father's death. Two strokes. He died inside the ambulance on the way to the hospital.

"He was the only lieutenant to tell his force not to shoot on sight. All he wanted was to give the deviants a chance."

Her eyes glistened.

"My father always knew the right decisions to make... and maybe that's why I've been so lost... after he's gone... and the fact that I put my own mother there..."

"AJ, you have to stop blaming yourself," he reassured her the best way he could.

"It's the same reason why I have a hard time sleeping because I can't control what goes in my dreams."

"Dreams," he repeated.

"All those fucked up shit people do to each other. They kill, they torture, they lie, they cheat..." She broke down in this moment, "Sometimes I don't know if I can do this job."

Everything around her was starting to overload her, but he placed his hand on her arm. "AJ, look at me."

When she's like this, it's hard to focus on one thing. Even when his face was following hers, "Maybe you can't tonight, but you'll be alright."

She looked up to the see the Detroit skyline is now reflected in his eyes. Something is still here for her. She just hasn't found it yet.

"AJ, there's someone I'd like you to meet."

115 Michigan Drive was a quiet street and there stood a quiet home. The asphalt needed to be recoated. One of the streetlights flicker uncontrollably and the drainage system hasn't been maintained for over a year.

AJ expected the inside of the house to be equally neglected, but when Connor unlocked the door, there was only warmth.

"This is your home?" She studied her surroundings. It appears exactly what she pictured Connor's home would look like.

"Technically, it's not mine," he said, taking her coat. "It's officially bought by Captain Miller. When he activated me, he placed me in this house."

This is what he has been doing with his free time. When he's not working (which he rarely does), he cleans and maintains Gregory Miller's second property. Connor still needs to get some of the plumbing fixed. The attic insulation needs to be redone before winter comes.

There were no photographs, no personal items, or memorabilia to own. The kitchen was humble and the living room was plain, but everything was functional, and of course, no home is complete without it – a good dog.

"His name is Sumo," Connor smiled. Standing next to his feet was a brown and white Saint Bernard. He was big and gruff, and he has done an excellent job of guarding his master's abode.

"Hi, Sumo." AJ crouched.

In his protective nature, Sumo was unsure at first. He sniffed the strange human who looked tame and unintimidating.

She watched the dog's eyes carefully. There was an unusual glimmer like a system that deactivates once it detects no threat. Then, the dog whimpered.

He came up to her and placed his cheek on AJ's hand. She returned this favor with huge head rubs and a lot of, "Who's a good boy? You are!"