Tender Killer: DETROIT BECOME HUMAN |Choose YOUR Ending|

C̻̘͉H̬͍̩͉͕̤A͉̞P̝͖͉͔Ț̸̮E̞R͚ 1͈͈͈͉͔̗0̢ ̙͉̻ [ X ] Save Hank

Hank's eyelids opened gently when the sunshine broke through his lashes. He felt his throat dry and aching and a surreal pain in his abdomen.

The man tried to stand, but his injury seemed to be more than he imagined, thus sending him flat on his back. He groaned.

"Connor.." his voice was soft. In the chair beside his bed sat Connor with his arms crossed. He seemed to be sleeping. "Oh, Connor, what did you do? I was supposed to die." he then continued.

In the corner of his eye, he noticed the door open and through the door entered Emily.

"You're awake. You're a miracle breathing!" the woman approached leisurely.

"Last time I checked." Hank replied sarcastically. "What happened?"

"Well, we got the killer, I can tell you that." Emily turned to glance at Connor, letting a sigh escape her lungs. "You should get some sleep."

"I'll have enough time to sleep when I'm dead." Hank scoffed. "Now, are you gonna tell me what exactly happened?"

Emily tilted her head slightly, a sad smile making its appearance across her face. "I'm not the one supposed to do so."

"Fucking A." he muttered under his breath. "Hey, Connor!" Hank threw one of his pillows at Connor, making him jump awake. "Sleeping beauty, aren't you?"

"Hank!" Connor beamed. "You're alive!"

"I'll let you two to it." Emily proceeded toward the door, "Hey, Hank? I'm glad you're fine." then left.

"She seems suspiciously glad." Hank furrowed his brows. "Now, are you gon' tell me what the hell happened?"

"Hank, I..." Connor sat down, his elbows on his knees. He thought for a second, running his palms over his face.

"What? What's wrong, son?"

"I saved you, Hank. But..." he sighed. "It came with a price. After calculating the probability of survival, I was left with no choice."

Hank stared at him confused.

"She wasn't going to make it." Connor continued. "And I know...I shouldn't have done it without your permission. And it was literally the only way. I'm so sorry, Hank."

"Can you cut to the point?" Hank articulated with seriousness, growing impatient. Connor pointed under the bed.

Hank's eyes opened wide. He was connected to the same machinery that they had found back in the underground hideout. The same machinery that worked on thririum. The same machinery that kept the little girl alive. And not only it was the same machinery...it was the ONLY machinery.

"Get out." Hank whispered.

"Hank, I-"

"GET OUT, GODDAMNIT!!" he yelled, making his wound hurt harder than before.

Connor stood slowly, taking steps in the direction of the door. "I...hope you'll forgive me, lieutenant. Because I sure as hell am not."

-

It was one week later when Connor entered the Police Department to find Jeffrey and other policemen waiting at his desk.

"Captain." he nodded. "Am I needed?"

"Indeed you are, Connor." the other man replied. "I suppose you've already converted back to your model?"

"Yes, I have. Agent Droid made sure of that."

"Great. Because I need you to be yourself on further investigations." Captain Fowler took out a badge, handing it to Connor. "Congratulations, Detective."