“Hey Barton, you in there?” The raspy voice of Hank Anderson broke the silence, and suddenly, the darkness vanished, and Sam was able to open her eyes again. Trying to understand her whereabouts and what was going on, she lifted herself up from the clean white floor in front of the bathroom stalls, slowly trying to balance herself on two legs, feeling wobbly, like it was the first time she ever tried to stand.
The bathroom she was in was completely clean, as it had been when she had entered it, but that was impossible? Three knocks on the door brought her back to reality. ‘Barton?’ Hank! 'YES, HANK, HELP! I am locked in here, the doorknob, I… Please help me!’ She felt him trying to open the door from the other side and stepped aside when it didn’t budge, knowing full well he would kick it in seconds later. With a loud bang, the door crashed open, revealing the older grey-haired man standing on the other side, giving her a worried look. 'Sam, are you okay? What happened to you?’ She couldn’t answer, especially not after hearing the genuine worry in his voice, she just rushed towards him and threw her hands around his neck, pressing herself against him to have something to hold onto.
He hesitantly hugged her back, she felt his warm hands on her back and pressed against him harder, feeling ridiculous for the tears that were running down her face. 'Thank you…’ she muttered as she let go of him, and tried to get past him when he blocked her way. 'Hey, what the heck happened in there?’ 'I…’ Quickly trying to think up a response that wouldn’t make her seem insane, she replied with the first thing that made sense.
'I was in there and when I tried to leave, the doorknob came off and I couldn’t open the door, and my claustrophobia kicked in and suddenly made it seem like the walls were closing in on me and then I screamed and no one heard me, and my god thank you, Hank, thank you so much.’ She hugged him again. He seemed to be satisfied with her response, quickly patting her back again. 'Well, you’re welcome. Fowler called you and me to his office, and when you weren’t there and weren’t showing up either he sent me looking for you.’ The captain had asked for her? 'What did he want?’ she asked irritatedly, while they were starting to walk back to the office area. 'I don’t fucking know, he wouldn’t say anything before you were there.’ She shook her head, trying to rid herself of the thoughts about what had just happened, and tried to return to her usual, more cheerful and optimistic point of view. 'Then let’s go find out, shall we, Hanky?’
'Alright, you two still gettin’ along as well as you did back in the 'Red Ice Task Force’’? Asked Captain Fowler, while she and Hank sat on the other side of the old wooden desk in his office. 'I sure hope so.’ she muttered while Hank just nodded. Sam had joined the DCPD shortly after Hank had been promoted to Lieutenant for his successful Red Ice Operation in 2028, and had helped him out significantly with finding a metric ton of Red Ice a couple of years later in 2031, and the two had been friends ever since then.
'Well, I have decided to switch up teams here. As you might have noticed, I have recently hired a couple of new employees as well as some androids to help us out with the Red Ice Epidemic, and I want you two to work on something else now.’ 'You’re kicking us out of the Red Ice Investigations?’ Sam asked with a shocked expression on her face, while Hank seemed as indifferent as usual. 'Try not to see it like that, rather as a sort of promotion! I need my best people working on these deviant cases.’ Deviants.Sam had heard of deviants, androids apparently malfunctioning, awakening, feeling human emotions, becoming more human? Always having been intrigued by androids themselves and especially deviants, she cocked her head slightly and asked: 'So what exactly does that entail then?’
'You’ll be assigned cases that look like an android or a deviant has been involved, and you will track them down and bring them in, it’s as easy as that… Well, almost. CyberLife insists on following the protocol for this, and that involves sending us an android for assistance.’ Hank’s head suddenly jerked up, and he looked directly at Fowler. 'What?! Jeffrey, I can’t do that, I can’t work with those plastic assholes.’ Hank frantically shook his head now, his eyes wide open in panic, while Sam tried to rationalize the situation she knew was very personal to Hank. 'They send you an android to help you find androids?’ Sam questioned, and Fowler nodded. 'I tried to convince them that we didn’t need any assistance, but they harshly persisted. They’ll send some sorta special model here, it’ll be here tonight or tomorrow, I’m afraid I can’t change that, Hank.’ Hank shook his head again angrily, then stood up and furiously took off through Fowler’s office door. 'I think I should go after him…’ Sam excused herself as Fowler nodded understandingly and she bolted after Hank, rushing to his desk only to find it vacant, then running outside to where his car was usually parked, only to find the spot empty and Hank gone.
Sam had decided to leave Hank alone for the day, to just work as long as she had to, to finish up all of her Red Ice files and then force herself to go home and not go out searching for him in his favourite bars. She would talk to him tomorrow, and try to calm him down and open him up to the idea of working with an android, which might very possibly be beneficial for their detective work.
It was way past 10 pm when she checked her watch, much later than she’d originally planned to go home, partly because of all of her work, but also because she couldn’t bear the feeling of going home without knowing if Hank was safe. Sam licked the tip of her thumb and slowly turned the page on her most recent case report, not really paying attention to what she was reading. Would he do something stupid? Would he hurt himself deliberately? Would he kill himself? Sam knew of his backstory, she had gotten to know his son Cole before he had died tragically, and she had witnessed this incident draining all life and happiness out of Hank. She turned the page again, absentmindedly drawing some scribbles on her wooden desk. Oh fuck it, she’d try to call him at least and then go home. Just to make sure.
Grabbing her coat from the back of her chair, she quickly swung it around her shoulders to shield her from the cold outside, then pulled her bag over her shoulder and snatched her phone from the table, before she rapidly made her way through the office building downstairs. As soon as she’d entered the elevator, Sam dialed Hank’s number and waited. And waited. Then, suddenly, when she almost didn’t expect an answer anymore, a crack, a loud static noise and then: 'Hello?’ Hank’s voice sounded groggy and slurry, drunk and sad. 'Hank, it’s me, Sam. You okay?’ 'Wha- of course, I am, what are you now, my mother? Don’t you worry I’m fucking brilliant, I’ll see you tomorrow.’ Another grunting, a cracking noise and he was gone. That was not the way Sam had hoped for this conversation to go, but she guessed she couldn’t really do much but wait for tomorrow to come, to try and cheer him up a little.
She sighed as the elevator stopped, typing a quick message to Hank to call her if he needed anything while getting off the elevator. When she paused for a moment to glance over the final message before sending it, her phone started ringing in her hands. Half hoping it to be Hank, she picked up, registering a female voice on the other end. 'Detective?’ It was Sarah, the android that worked at the reception upstairs. 'Hi Sarah, everything alright?’ 'Yes, of course, thank you for asking. There is someone here, who is asking about Lieutenant Anderson. Do you perhaps know, where he is?’ Someone asking about Hank? Maybe family, that she didn’t know about since he avoided talking about his personal life at all times. 'I’m not sure, but I think he’s probably having a drink or two nearby, but I can’t tell you which bar he’s in for sure, sorry, Sarah.’ 'That’s alright, thank you, Detective. Have a nice evening!’ 'Thank you, Sarah, goodnight!’ Sam answered and hung up.
She always tried to be as nice as possible to the androids, that she worked with or encountered anywhere else, on the one hand, because she knew, that they were often treated terribly by others, with people treating them like slaves or even abuse them in worse ways. Even though she knew they were 'just’ machines, she felt like you could at least treat them with respect. On the other hand, because her father had been a friend of their creator, Elijah Kamski, when they were younger, and he had provided them with a prototype android named Kyle after her mother had died in a car crash when Sam had just turned 10, who had been there for them ever since, teaching her to appreciate androids in ways that other people never really understood. She smiled to herself as she thought of the past times with Kyle and her father, and the smile almost didn’t leave her face until she was in bed a little later, cuddled up with her old, black tomcat Lucius, until her phone vibrated, signaling an incoming text message.
[Hank, 11:40 pm]: sam, possible homicide involving a deviant, 4167 prudence street, be there ASAP, i’m on my way.
