"In other news, a new controversial topic has taken rise within social media after recent events."

"And what's that?"

"Can an android run for president?"

"Well, I don't see why they can't. They might even be better at handling national affairs."

Connor turns his gaze away from the television in front of him. Sumo lays at his feet, and it's been that way for the last two hours. Connor had been up all night mulling over the previous day's events in which Markus had successfully lead a revolution of androids against their creators. Connor had participated and stopped himself from lifting his hand to cause harm to him. Afterward, Markus trusted him enough to confide in him on what they should do next since there were so many androids that were released into the world with no home.

Connor, quite frankly, had no idea. He thought of them returning to Cyberlife for shelter but his relationship with Cyberlife was rocky. Regardless, he understood this new opportunity for the company that would have destroyed him regardless if he had won or lost the investigation case. They could still create androids but they wouldn't be able to sell them. Not with how quickly androids stood up for their fellow creations. They refused for others to be treated like merchandise. With that, Cyberlife had a new opportunity, and that laid in the creation of Android parts. Androids would always break down over time, they were not invulnerable, and Cyberlife could make a profit from creating extra parts that androids needed. They could always continue making upgrades as well and install them in androids willing to undergo them, with a price.

"Have you seriously been sitting there the entire night? You haven't moved an inch from that spot."

Hank's voice is a familiar ring in his ears. Connor doesn't bother turning around to face him. He is too busy going over the possible fate of the rest of his kind alongside his own fate. Where was he going to go? What was he going to do? He was created to fulfill one single purpose but he was already past that.

"I was thinking." Connor finally answers. He feels the couch sink in weight and knows that Hank had made himself comfortable beside him.

"Oh, well that can't be good."

Connor blinks and glances at Hank.

Hank's teasing smirk was the first thing he registered.

"I was thinking…" Connor begins again, "That I don't know what to do. I was created for one primary purpose. To hunt deviants. Now that deviants roam free, I have failed that purpose, and now I don't know what to do."

Connor remembers deviants walking up to him. They shook his hand, gave him beaming smiles, and Connor could only return weak ones. He was designed to hunt them but he had shaken their hands as equals. Aside Markus, they gave him looks of admiration, and Connor felt he didn't deserve any of them. He didn't do anything. In fact, he nearly killed their leader! He was ready! He had already pulled out his gun to aim at the back of the android's head. Needless to say, he wasn't necessarily in control of himself when he did that, but the action was almost executed anyways. He would have been the one responsible.

"Cyberlife hasn't contacted you?" Hank asks.

Connor knows the answer.

Oh, they contacted him alright. Amanda had done so when gaining control over him.

"They have. In their own way."

"What did they say?"

"I get the feeling they aren't happy with me," Connor answers bluntly. "I doubt I would be welcome to return, not when I've aided in destroying their business' main source of income."

"Yeah, that'll do it." Hank nods his head, raising a finger to rub at his nose.

"Because of that, I have nowhere to go."

Hank stares at him. Connor doesn't know what he did to receive such an expression.

"Are you an idiot?"

Connor blinks.

"Excuse me?"

Because he certainly wasn't.

"You're here, aren't you?"

"Yes, but I can't stay here forever," Connor states matter-of-factly.

"You can't?"

"Well, yes, I can't," Connor says - disbelief edging his voice.

"And why is that?"

Connor opens his mouth but oddly enough, nothing comes out.

"Mm. I see." Hank hums. "Don't want to stay with your old man, huh?"

"What?"

"I thought me inviting you to stay here was enough. Apparently, you need it beaten in your thick skull."

Connor isn't prepared as Hank hooks his head under his arm, effectively pulling him closer at an uncomfortable angle, and then the man's knuckles rub against his head roughly.

Connor knew what this was. A noogie. According to his databases, it was supposed to be painful, but he didn't feel pain.

"What are you doing?" Connor inquires.

"What you deserve for being stupid."

"I am far from stupid. In fact, I have state of the art-"

"Yeah, yeah, I don't want to be lectured. I'm the one supposed to be doing that."

Connor falls silent at that.

Hank takes that as his cue to continue.

"Connor. You're welcome to stay here for as long as you like. Can't just let you wander the streets."

Hank's knuckles cease and Connor knows because the pressure on his head lifts.

"And it'd be nice if you helped around the house."

Connor doesn't know when the emotions invade his system. His heart feels lifted, as the human term goes, and the weight on his shoulders becomes lighter. He feels nothing but utter relief.

"Maybe when things calm down, you can even apply to the police station too, become my partner again."

Hank lets Connor's head go and looks away as if distracted by something else.

"You wouldn't mind that?" Connor asks.

"I wouldn't," Hank confirms.

Connor disregards his previous self-doubts, and his lips quirk up to form a small smile.

"I suppose someone has to keep you in check."

Hank looks at Connor once more to retort, "I think it's you who needs someone to keep you in check, buddy. Can't follow simple orders, ever."

"I learn from the best." Connor shrugs.

And really, it was true, and Connor finds that he doesn't really mind.