Connor opened his eyes, and even though he was sure, he wasn't at the same time. He felt the couch beneath him, the weight on his legs, and the smell of stale food and dust. He even heard movement coming from the kitchen.

He pushed himself up and looked at Sumo. The dog simply stared back at him, and Connor gave him a small smile before pulling his legs out from under him. He placed his feet on the floor and looked toward the kitchen.

Hank was pacing, a bottle of alcohol sitting on the table, but unlike the usual grimace and utter disgust on his face, there was contemplation. A wonder of what he was going to do, and he was waiting.

Connor stood and walked over to him. "Is something wrong?"

Hank stopped and turned, "Nothing. You finally...woke up...is that what you androids do?"

"It's a kind of sleep process," Connor says, shrugging his shoulders.

Hank nods and grabs the cap to the bottle and screws it back on. "Let's go for a walk." He steps past Connor, "Sumo, let's go."

Connor turns and follows Hank to the door and they walk out. It's nice out, a bit of clouds in the sky, the sun, the street is quietly dead. It's just them.

"How was your...sleep process?" Hank asked once Connor matched his pace.

"It was fine, how was yours?" He gave Hank a smirk.

Hank rolled his eyes. "Woke up four hours before you."

"And you did nothing but pace?"

Hank looks down at Sumo and there's a quietness about him that makes Connor tense. He came to accept Hank wasn't the most warmest person to get to know, but there was also places inside of him that was still there, that held onto a shred of hope in this world, even though he struggled with his past, and the trauma. He seems better, less depressed, less angry.

"I was thinking," Hank finally says. "Since we met, I hated you, couldn't stand the sight of you."

"It was quite noted," Connor said, trying to keep the air light.

Hank nods. "After awhile I...saw things in you that was different and I wanted a straight answer, and even though you said you were afraid of dying, that death scared you a lot. It made me realize that I'm not scared of dying," he looked at Connor, and there was weariness in his eyes, "I'm scared one day you'll die and I'll never see you again."

Connor nodded. When he woke, he felt the feeling that maybe everything was wrong, that what he went through didn't really happen, that maybe it was a memory from another version of him that died, and this person he was, wasn't the one Hank knew best.

Fear. It made him more human, it made him realize what his life meant, and what it meant to Hank.

He should've known better before than to say cold words, but even that time, he was ignorant, only following orders that was placed in his software.

He was glad he met Hank. He was able to heal the both of them in different ways, more profound than he initially thought.

"I don't want to lose you either," Connor said, looking at Hank. "Human lives can be taken so easily if they aren't careful."

Hank smiles, placing a hand on Connor's shoulder. "You won't be replaced again, so your life means as much as mine, and as anyone else's. You must be careful, I don't think I can stand it if one day I don't hear your voice."

"Didn't you say it was annoying?" Connor asked.

Hank dropped his hand, "It still is, but I grew accustomed to it."

He was once a perfect android created to hunt deviants, but maybe that was the point. Even in all that perfection, there will always be a flaw, and flaws aren't so bad, not when they make the person who they are, and shape what they'll do with each decision they make.

He didn't regret his feelings, nor his decisions. For once in all that chaos, and all the confusion, he was able to see more clearly, to really know what it meant to be human instead of a mindless android taking orders.

He was free.