Another||DBH

Chapter Three

KX sat in the back of Hank's car silently, his index finger tapping against his thigh as he gazed out the window at the quiet neighbourhood they were driving through.

Connor was seated next to him, regarding him with curiosity. Although non-sentient, KX seemed to be different from most androids. His habits and mannerisms were very human-like, despite him being anything but. It was quite fascinating.

"Who are you taking us to see, Hank?" KX broke the silence, although he hadn't turned his head from its position. Hank looked at him through the mirror briefly, before returning his line of sight to the road before him.

"An old friend; ex-profiler. He worked for the FBI, y'know. Maybe he can get something on our guy." Hank said as he pulled into the driveway of an old-looking house.

The moment they got out of the car, it started raining again; queuing Hank mumbling profanities under his breath. Hank ran up to the door, Connor and KX following suit. Hank knocked on the door, and it didn't take long for it to open.

A man who appeared to be in his mid-to-late thirties opened the door. He had brown eyes set on an oddly young-looking face, with messy brown hair.

"Uhhh...hi?" He shifted uncomfortably as he looked at the three strangers. Hank smiled.

"Hello, Shaun. Visiting your Godfather, are ya?" He asked. The man—Shaun's eyes lit up with recognition as he gave a toothy grin; opening the door wider and stepping out of the way to let them in.

"Hank! It's good to see you!" He exclaimed as they walked in. It was definitely an old-fashioned house. There were vintage things that dated back to the early 1900's. But there were some odd trinkets that only appeared to be old by a decade or two.

Shaun brought them into the living room where a man who seemed to be in his sixties was seated in an armchair, a book in hand. His light brown hair was partially greyed; deep wrinkles around his mouth compared to the rest of his face. He had a cane leaning against the chair.

"Hank Anderson, do my old eyes deceive me?" He teased. KX and Connor heard a faint Boston accent behind his surprisingly strong voice for someone his age. Hank chuckled, moving to stand in front of him.

"Hey, Norman. It's nice to see ya and all, but we really need some help." Hank stated sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. Norman looked up at him with a raised brow and a smirk.

"Is it about the Detroit Ripper?" He asked, although he seemed to already know the answer. Hank nodded in response, and Norman stuck his hand out.

Hank reached into his coat and pulled out a folder, placing it in Norman's outstretched hand. They waited patiently as Norman looked over the file, his eyes flickering to KX for a moment after reading over his information; before returning to the case file.

After about twenty minutes with Hank looking about the house awkwardly as a nearly suffocating silence fell over them; Norman handed the file back before grabbing his cane and slowly standing up.

"Who you're lookin' for is a sociopath. Criminal history. Mentally unstable; perhaps psychotic. Human, likely in their thirties; given' them plenty of time to have gathered the experience they have. Whoever this is knows what they're doin', has or continues to use drugs; likely Red Ice. Probably a parent once." Norman said without hesitation, confident in his analysis. Without warning, he started to walk towards KX.

His brow was furrowed and his face held a thoughtful yet sad expression as he gazed up at KX; who, in return, stared back at him with confusion.

"You remind me of someone," Norman whispered, his voice soft and solemn. Connor and Hank watched the exchange silently; Hank seemed to be understanding, as if he knew what was going on.

Rather than saying anything else, Norman walked off to his bedroom. KX turned to look at Hank and Connor, clearly confused; but he locked eyes with Hank. He knew Hank knew something.

"Who do I remind him of?"