Chapter Text
Hugging Connor felt like developing the Stockholm syndrome.
The android seemed unwilling to let go, holding Hank hostage in an embrace that almost stretched the boundaries of normalcy. Yet, in that prolonged moment, Hank felt a familiar warmth spread through his body — something he hadn’t experienced in what felt like an eternity.
“Alright,” he mumbled eventually. His hands hesitantly started to push the android away. “That’s enough.”
Connor finally seemed to grasp the hint, stepping back with a stiff smile that caught Hank off guard. There was a mix of happiness and uncertainty in his expression, almost as if he hadn’t been hugged before. When Hank thought about it, that might’ve just been the case.
“Are you okay?” he asked, his gaze falling on the bullet wound in Connor’s shoulder. His stupid CyberLife uniform was soaked wet from the snow, and his cheeks had taken on a strange, bluish hue. “You cold?”
Connor looked momentarily taken aback by the concern. “A little,” he said after a pause, his voice tinged with confusion. “I’m not sure,” he then added, as if the concept of feeling cold was completely foreign to him.
It dawned on Hank that Connor was truly a deviant now, fully self-aware and in control. Yet, he seemed more lost than ever, standing there in the snow with nothing but a thin jacket on, slightly shivering.
“Alright,” Hank sighed, rubbing a hand over his bearded jaw. He glanced up at the Chicken Feed sign. Gary wouldn’t open the truck for another hour. “I’ve got some clothes for you back at the house,” he decided. “Sumo might need a walk as well.”
The mention of the dog seemed to ignite a spark in Connor’s eyes. “Can I walk him?” the android asked as they began heading home. He kept trailing slightly behind Hank, likely out of habit from his old programming.
Hank had to stop and place a hand on the kid’s shoulder, guiding him to walk beside him. “Haven’t I told you to not follow me around like a poodle all the time?”
Connor blinked, looking dumbfounded. Hank felt the urge to actually punch that puppy-eyed expression right off his face. “Sorry, Lieutenant,” the android mumbled before falling silent.
Hank sighed. “… Yes, you can walk him.”
The rest of the way home stretched in silence, interrupted only by the soft fall of snow around them, blanketing the ground in white. Winter was officially approaching, much to Hank’s dismay. The holidays hadn’t been the same since Cole passed. Maybe this year wouldn’t be as depressing with Connor around. At least he hoped so.
“Hey, Sumo!” Hank called out, swinging the door to his house open. “You’ve got a visitor.”
The big Saint Bernard came trotting toward them, tongue out and tail wagging excitedly. Hank gave him a heartfelt pat on the back, but the dog immediately ignored him in favor of Connor.
“Traitor,” Hank grumbled, watching as the android knelt down to greet the old dog with a tenderness that surprised him. He’d never seen anyone pet an animal so carefully before. It was almost ridiculous.
“You can feed him if you want. Food’s in the kitchen.”
Connor acknowledged him with a small nod before guiding Sumo further into the house.
Hank felt a sudden wave of tranquility wash over him. The revolution was over, and it was nothing short of a miracle that Connor had come out in one piece and alive. The sight of a somewhat full house stirred a sense of familiarity in Hank’s mind.
Sumo’s impatient barking suddenly snapped him back into the present. Connor was already opening a can of dog food in the kitchen, and Hank realized he was still lingering in the hallway. Shaking off his reverie, he made his way to the bedroom.
He rummaged through his wardrobe and eventually found a hoodie, jeans, and a warmer jacket. He hoped his old clothes would fit the leaner android better than they did him these days.
Suddenly, amidst his search, a retching sound erupted from the other room. Hank froze, his heart skipping a beat. He rushed out and to his surprise, spotted Connor in the bathroom, hunched over the toilet. It took him a second to realize the kid was… throwing up?
“Connor!” He hurried forward, placing a hand on the android’s back. He grimaced at the sight of the blue-stained toilet. “Ah, that’s fucking disgusting… You can puke now?”
Connor seemed just as shocked, his eyes wide as he stared down at the blue liquid in the toilet. He glanced at Hank, bewildered. “I just… I took a sample.”
Hank felt his brain short-circuit. “Of what, the dog food?” Connor’s cheeks tinged with a blue flush, clearly embarrassed. “Jesus… we’re off to a great start, aren’t we?” Hank muttered, a mix of exasperation and amusement in his voice.
The many times he’d shown disgust towards the android’s analyzing methods, he’d never expected it to finally backfire on him. Turning deviant apparently meant Connor could taste things now. Though Hank supposed dog food wasn’t exactly the first thing you would want to try.
He reached out, roughly wiping off some blue blood dripping down the android’s chin with his sleeve. “It’s alright, shit happens,” he said, noticing how Connor shrank in on himself in shame. “I found some clothes for you.”
Moments later, Connor emerged from the bathroom, mirroring the way Hank had done that night during the revolution — newly detoxed and in fresh clothes. Hank tried not to dwell on the reversed roles too much and instead gave the android’s appearance an approving nod.
The clothes were a bit too baggy after all, but the oversized look wasn’t necessarily a bad one. Connor appeared relaxed for once, or maybe it was just the casual show-off spin the android gave in response that made it seem that way. Hank couldn’t help but find it all very strange — the once stiff machine now transformed into his own person, controlling his own mannerisms.
He snickered, ruffling the kid’s hair into a mess. “Dog food, huh? I can’t fucking believe it.”
~~~
The moment Connor took hold of Sumo’s leash, it was like watching a dog walk its owner rather than the other way around. The Saint Bastard clearly took advantage of the situation, dragging the helpless android wherever he pleased. Connor’s timid handling of the leash didn’t help matters either.
Despite this, Hank found himself thoroughly entertained as he watched the pair stumble ahead of him. By the time they made it back to the food truck, Connor seemed to have finally gotten the hang of it.
Gary cast the kid a glance as Hank ordered his usual. “That thing normal now?” the man asked, beginning to prepare a burger.
Hank shifted on his weight. “Normal? Take a look at him, Gary. The prick’s about as far from normal as you can get.” They shared a chuckle. However, as Hank received his meal and walked over to the standing table, he noticed Connor’s LED had turned yellow at his comment. “I was joking,” he clarified, with a hint of sarcasm.
“Oh,” the android said, his gaze dropping. He seemed preoccupied for a moment before resting his elbows on the table, idly playing with the dog leash in his hands. His distant gaze eventually settled on Hank’s meal. “Several studies highlight that processed foods and sweet drinks trigger brain responses similar to addictive drugs and cigarettes. You shouldn’t eat that.”
Hank paused mid-bite of his burger. “Oh yeah?” he teased. “You sure you’re not just jealous?”
To his surprise, he managed to evoke an actual reaction from the android. Connor seemed to flinch slightly, an offended frown forming on his face. “I’m not… jealous,” he argued, his voice lowering. “I was just—”
“Oh, come on, Connor.” Hank pushed the soda toward him across the table. “Give it a try, will ya’?”
Connor appeared reluctant at first, but an uncharacteristic scoff escaped him before he relented, placing the straw in his mouth. Hank tried to mask his curiosity but couldn’t help observing closely as Connor took a sip. Instantly, he could tell the kid enjoyed it, if his widened eyes were anything to go by. He took another sip, more confidently this time, before setting the drink down without a comment.
Hank couldn’t resist a smirk. “See? Not so bad, huh?”
Connor frowned deeper, his fingers drumming lightly on the table. “It’s not healthy,” he replied stubbornly, though his eyes kept drifting back to the drink.
Hank huffed. “Whatever,” he grumbled, focusing back on finishing his burger. “So,” he began, his voice muffled by a mouthful of food. “You’re a deviant now. How’s it feel?”
A surprisingly resigned look washed over the android’s face at the question. His eyes flickered up to Hank’s for a split second before he simply shrugged. Hank watched as he reached for the soda, taking a long sip in silence. For some reason, it seemed like he found solace in the taste it offered.
Hank hummed, a warm smile tugging at his lips. “C’mon, there’s gotta be something you wanna do. With free will and all.”
Connor straightened his posture abruptly. “I don’t… want anything, alright?” he snapped, his LED flashing red.
Hank blinked in surprise. He hadn’t expected the sudden outburst of anger. He watched, stunned, as Connor crouched down beside Sumo, who lay sprawled on the ground. He began petting the dog, his movements almost mechanical at first, until the circle by his temple gradually faded back to blue.
“Sorry, I meant— I was going to say maybe I want a…” his voice trailed off, uncertainty clouding his expression. “… I think I want a fish.”
Hank nodded slowly, a confused frown setting on his face. “That’s fucking weird,” he mumbled. Then, after a moment, he asked, “Are you going back to Jericho tonight?”
“I believe so, yes.”
A pang of disappointment tugged at Hank’s heart unexpectedly. “Well,” he muttered, “if they turn out to be really fucking boring back there, you’re always welcome to stay at my place.”