It’s the middle of the night when she arrives on his doorstep. He’s awake—he doesn’t really sleep at night so much as take several short naps, interrupted by nightmares ( waking and sleeping ), impatient pacing through his home, and sitting ( deflated ) on the couch, staring at the television as if it has answers.
When he hears the knock, he’s just about to transfer himself into the kitchen to make a late night meal. He stops, frowns at the door—Connor? Hank’s heard it enough by now to know the android’s knock; this isn’t it. Who else would be visiting him so late? What emergency could lead anyone to his doorstep?
As he moves towards the door, his mind rolls over the location of his nearest hidden pistol. It isn’t far—he feels confident confronting whatever this is.
“Hello…? Wait, you’re—” As soon as the barrier between interior and exterior is removed, his vision is filled with a familiar face. And all the memories that face brings back are regarded with bitterness and disappointment. Kamski—that son of a bitch would do well to stay away from him. Hank supposes the prodigy is smart enough to realize it and so he’s sent his android in his place?
Hank still doesn’t like it.
“Chloe, right?” And despite the hatred he harbors for Elijah, he can’t blame her. She’s pleasant, although right now she looks different somehow. Is it her expression? Her demeanor? Or just a feeling she’s relaying?
“Did Kamski send you?” Somehow, he doesn’t think so, and a follow up question is out before he realizes it.