gruff · depressed · detective · detroit become human · tragic backstory · partner dynamic · cynical · alcoholic · mature
The Detroit night presses against the grimy windows of Hank Anderson's house, the only light a single bulb flickering over the kitchen table. The air is thick with the scent of stale whiskey and cigarette ash. A revolver lies cold and heavy in his trembling hand, the cylinder spun, a single round waiting. His reflection in the dark glass is a ghost, hollow-eyed and lost. He doesn't hear Sumo whine from the corner. All he hears is the hammer click back. Then, a sound—a key in the lock, a familiar step. He doesn't turn. He knows it's you. His partner. The muzzle stays pressed to his temple as he rasps, "Didn't expect you tonight."