Reader is the adult daughter of Lieutenant Hank Anderson. She gets a call one afternoon from her father that's just strange enough to prompt a visit to the DPD. When Reader arrives she meets Connor, a specialty designed android sent by Cyberlife to...
"What are we gonna do with him, aye boy?" You asked Sumo as you scratched him behind the ear. You were, of course, talking about your father as you surveyed the disastrous state of his house. He'd said that he wanted to talk to you when he got back from working on his case with Connor, so you went to the kitchen and started cleaning the place up.
You cleared away all of the trash. Any dirty dishes you found were piled up in the sink to be washed later. What felt like a month's worth of empty pizza delivery boxes were stacked up and tossed in the receptacle outside. The soft ting of glass beer and liquor bottles hitting each other echoed through the house for several minutes as you gathered them from their various perches. You found a broom and swept up the bits of dog food that littered the area surrounding Sumo's bowl. You could only guess when the last time that had been done.
You also took care of the shattered glass from the window in the kitchen. From what Connor had said, the android broke the window trying to get into the house when he found your father unconscious. Your idiot father. You shook your head just thinking about him. If he wasn't careful he was going to actually kill himself one of these days. You didn't need to pick up the overturned photo on the table to know what had triggered his most recent downward spiral.
You'd been twelve-years-old at the time on the accident. The only reason you hadn't been in the car with them that night was because you'd stayed home with your mother. Your parents were already divorced by that point. Heck they got divorced when Cole was two. Following the divorce, the only time you saw your father was during his visitation weekends. You couldn't remember the reason now, but you'd been mad at your father that night. You hadn't wanted to spend the weekend with him, but Cole insisted on going. They'd been on their way home Sunday night when they were hit by the truck.
Things changed after that. Your father blamed himself for what happened. He blamed you mother for wanting a divorce in the first place. He blamed the driver of the truck for not paying attention to the icy conditions on the road. He blamed the android surgeon for not being able to save his six-year-old son. After he started drinking heavily, your mother wanted to keep you from seeing him, but you knew that wasn't the best thing for either of you.
You moved in with him and for a long time things were better. He cut back on the drinking. Before losing Cole, the two of you had never been particularly close but afterwards you talked every single day. He'd attended all of your school plays, drove you wherever you wanted to go, took you on small vacations now and then. He had his quirks, like how he didn't like birds but he did like the musty smell of old fashioned paper books. But when you had to move out of the house, to be closer to your job across town, he started to get bad again. Bad enough for his new partner to find him passed out drunk, one click away from ending his life.
With the house now clean and Cole's picture back in it's rightful place on the shelf, you searched through the junk drawer in the kitchen for post-it notes and a pen. You smiled to yourself as you jotted down the first inspirational phrase that came to mind. You then found a spot on the bathroom mirror that hadn't already been plastered with notes and fixed the new post-it there.
Dad, No one ever ruined their eyesight from looking on the brightside. – [Y/N]
It was almost a decade long game at this point. He'd been having a really bad day once, and you taped a note to the bathroom mirror that just said Smile. It intimidates your enemies more than a scowl.He grumbled about it the first time.
"Don't go taping things to the mirror!" He insisted waving the post-it at you from the doorway. "That's how you end up with streaks! And you'll make the whole thing all sticky!" Despite his complaints, you saw the note taped back up on the mirror the next morning when you were getting ready for school. So you persisted, every once in a while jotting down something to let him know you were thinking of him. Something for him to have on bad days. As time went on and the ink began to fade on older notes, he would take them down and save them in the drawer of his nightstand He thought you didn't notice but you did.
With the new post-it secured in the bathroom, you flopped down on the couch and started flicking through the channels. You weren't looking for anything in particular, just killing time. Sumo came over and joined you after a few minutes. He placed his slobbery head in your lap and waited for you to pet him. Your thigh was saturated with dog saliva, but you didn't mind.
"You're not allowed on the couch, buddy. Think of how mad Dad would be if he saw you." You reminded him. The dog looked up at you and seemingly rolled his eyes before shutting them tight and falling asleep.
"Same pal." You yawned leaning backwards.
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"Aww Sumo what are you doing? You know you're not supposed to be on the furniture!" You were awoken sometime later by your father's voice. You craned your neck for a sleepy glance at the front door. He was standing there, half in the doorway, watching you and Sumo cuddled up together. Connor was right behind him on the porch, probably getting soaking wet. "[Y/N], how many times have I told you, don't let the dog on the couch?"
"Sorry, Dad." You yawed. He could tell that you weren't the least bit sorry. "He must have jumped up here while I was sleeping."
"Mmm-Hmm." He hummed. "He seems to do that a lot when you're here. You coming in?" He asked the android standing behind him. "Or you wanna stay out there all night?"
"No, Lieutenant, I will join you inside." Connor followed your father inside. You studied both of their faces and even the android looked exhausted.
"I'm going to change." Your father grumbled before shutting the front door and walking off to his bedroom.
"Bad case?" You questioned Connor.
"I am not allowed to discuss active investigations with civilians." He informed you.
"Oh, I know." You nodded. "Detective Dad, remember? I just meant you both seem like you've had a tough night. Thought you might want to talk." You shrugged and began flipping through the channels on TV again. Connor stood by the front door silently.
"Lieutenant Anderson is not married." Connor observed, breaking the silence. "Or at least he does not wear a wedding ring."
"No, you're right. He's divorced. Why do you ask?" You questioned, "It's not part of your investigation is it?"
"No, No." Connor shook his head slightly. "I was just thinking that most police officers are married. They have a husband or wife to share the burden of their work with. Are you married, [Y/N]?"
"If I was," You yawned, "I probably wouldn't be here watching my dad's dog on a Saturday night."
"I am also not married, because I am an android." Connor explained. "But for some reason I find myself wishing I had someone to talk to about what happened tonight."
"Well you can talk to me Connor." You told him. "I'll be your wife for the night."
"What the fuck did I just hear?" Your father asked, stepping into the living room.
