From Cyberlife, With Love

Photographs

Connor was left curious to what Hank had received while he washed up the dishes, hands tender against the copperware skillet and pots. He gazed at the sudsy water, bubbles trailing up his arms and spotting wet stains on the front of the apron. He opened the top rack of the dishwasher and placed the pots into it, letting the frying pan drip the moisture away. He used a short dish towel to dry off his hands, walking closer to Hank while he nibbled on a green bean unpleasantly. "Don't play with your food." He whipped the Lieutenant with the towel jokingly, spotting the catalog envelope now on the table. Probably to avoid spilling all over it.

"I'm not, I'm not." Hank ate the bean, leaving just a few left in the bottom of the bowl. "Just can't eat any more." The empty plate was slid under the bowl and Hank wiped off the table with a few napkins, tossing them in a trash can nearby. He snatched up the envelope before Connor could, watching that pouty face soak the last 2 dishes in the water to make it easier to clean.

"I want to look at the things in the folder."

"Not yet."

"Why nooooottt?"

Hank was in the process of opening the catalog folder, struggling to open it again from how he closed it. Finally it popped, a few photos spilling out. They were face down polaroid style, so the front photo wasn't visible. "Then let's look at them together if you're so stubborn." He pulled one of the other chairs around, Connor ready to snatch up the seat. "But, this requires more clothes than that."

The pout returned. "Looking at these things doesn't requires any clothes technically." Connor held up one finger to continue talking but the look from Hank told him to just listen. He wandered back to change into some clothes, tossing the apron to the side.

Hank took the moment to scoop up the photos that slipped out, heart beating hard in his chest. What should he expect? How does he prepare himself for this? Probably exactly as expected – not preparing and diving in feet first. Flipping the polaroid over, Hank felt like he might get sick.

Printed in old fashion styles didn't help, and rather only made it worse. Connor was pictured, in a disgustingly clean surgery room, hooked up to a dozen different wires and tubes. The only landmark he could make out was the rounded part of the thirium pump, amassed among blue traced organs piling out of the open cavity. What... what was this? Connor was being preformed on, surgically. But he didn't scar so no one would know just looking at him. The lieutenant looked at the next image, which was the surgeon removing part of Connor's android liver (or other, smaller organ), with the human version in a dish next to the table. This is disgusting. "The hell is wrong with people?" He reached in and removed the first paper of the stack, picking out select words. Connor had been selected for an organ transfer – replacing all his android organs minus his heart – with human organs. It was a test to see the effects of human organs with thirium, being as it is a chemical created specifically for bio components. Is this the start of making immortal humans?

Connor came up and wrapped his arms tight around Hank's shoulders, gazing at the paper and easily starting to scan it. That was before Hank could hide it away of course. "Wait, Hank lemme see that." He had to snatch it from the human and take a seat in the chair beside him, adjusting his blue sweatpants. The same red crop top for minimal effort, and a peek of the black boxers as well. No socks. "What.. what is this...?" He was shaking already, tears spilling his eyes. He was trying to commit such a cold order directly from Amanda to his memory. She had betrayed him. There was a difference between simple deactivation and harvesting an android for its organs. He subconsciously was clawing at the flesh of his belly, hard nails leaving faint pink lines that tried to become an angry red as he kept going over them again and again. "Why would they do such a thing? Why me?" Fear pooled up and over, spilling like a covered pot that was boiling and no one was there to remove the top to let it all out.

"What makes them this sick and twisted?" Connor's voice was barely a hushed whisper, turning into broken sobs. He was filled with foreign objects and he wanted them out. He wanted them out now, not later. Now. He threw the paper aside, scrambling to take one of the photos into his hold. Hank was letting it happen because Connor had a right to know. He wasn't going to keep him from this.

"Kamski got this together for me, as a favor from Carl. Carl got information about Simon and Markus's lives before being free. Kamski wasn't pleased to give this up, but a favor is a favor. And he has good faith for keeping it up." Hank was explaining how he found all of this, eyes trained on the helpless android as he stared holes into the photo of the entire surgery staff. They wore face masks and no name tags, so there was no way to tell who each was. They were spotted with blue and red blood, bleeding indigo down their scrubs. Such a beautiful color created from tragedy. "It's gonna be okay, Connor." He changed to comforting words, scooting his wooden dining chair closer so Connor could rest his forehead on the bigger man's shoulder while having out the existential crisis that couldn't be averted. "Androids have right ya know, and they violated those rights. We can get this fixed somehow."

"Hank, they took my organs out. They harvested from me like a damn pig." That was one of the first times he has so openly swore and it shocked the police officer, but he just turned and tugged Connor into a hug. The dam holding all those tears were broken, and the anger and sadness was pouring out in pails. "I'm a disgusting halfling of a human android thing." Connor's words were failing him, stress levels rising to shut him down piece by piece.

"You're not disgusting Connor." Hank scolded Connor for speaking so poorly of himself, forcing the android to look him in the eyes. Dull blue grey met dark chocolate brown with tear stains, words falling to deaf ears. "You're the furthest thing from disgusting." Except for those times when he licked blood, but that's for a different time and place. "Don't speak like that, or I'm going to have to tape your mouth shut." Connor threw his arms around his neck, falling further into the embrace.

"But, but what they did." Connor stuttered out, eyes paling with draining liquid. "You can't.. you can't let it be slid under the rug like everything else." He sobbed loudly, coughing as mucous membranes produced snot annoyingly thick.

"It's not going to Connor, trust me." Sumo trotted over and rested his head on the thigh Connor had sticking out, whining and whimpering in concern. "Even Sumo will help get through this." Connor's hands came down slowly to bury themselves in Sumo's fur, his body following to slide from the chair and end up pooled on the flooring. "Plus we have evidence." Hank still felt terribly sick to his stomach, running a hand through Connor's hair to stroke and play with it soothingly. Connor was uncomfortably sobbing into Sumo's fluffy fur, accepting all of the affection in all of its forms.

The moment developed silence, broken only with the fading noises Connor made while he was crying. He had to stop the tears eventually, whether he simply ran out or he just depleted his emotions completely. Whichever came first.