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Heavy, furry footsteps run through a doorframe, pushing the door farther in. With a big leap, Sumo lands right on Hank's stomach. The Saint Bernard slips out a quiet, "Boof."
Hank groans, his eyes fluttering open at the sudden intrusion. "What... What the fuck, Sumo?" It wasn't the first, or most likely, last time the canine would jump on him in the middle of the night.
Hank rubs at his face as annoyance sprouted in the creases of it. The older man couldn't stay mad for long while gazing at Sumo's puppy eyes. Guilt began to poke at the man, immediately regretting getting irritated at the dog. Another groan.
"Good dog," he sighed. Shifting his position, Hank relaxes once more. "Go bother Connor." Rubbing at his face a second time, this time leaving his hand there and slowing allowing his heavy eyelids to shut again.
After a few seconds the dog seemed to register the android's name. Sumo pawed and shoved his snout at Hank's hand, moving it away to lick his face.
Grumbling, the Lieutenant sleepily gave a weak push to the Saint Bernard's snout. "Damn dog..."
"Boof!" Sumo pawed again at Hank and observed the man. An ear-piercing whine escaped the canines throat.
Hank slowly forced himself into an upright position, mumbling curses under his breath. "Shut it, will ya? Can't a man get some damn shut eye..." He hissed at the soreness of his back. Shit, he was getting old.
Sumo stared at Hank pleadingly and barked again, rising in volume. The dog jumped down, landing onto the floor with a loud thump.
Usually by this point, Sumo would lay back down. The dog was acting strange, Hank had to admit. Reluctantly, the lieutenant forced himself to sit up, legs dangling off the bed.
Yawning, "Sumo, this better be worth it," he checked the alarm clock. 2:32 AM. "Fucking Christ." Hank stood up, and slowly made his way out the door, careful to not trip over the mess on his floor. He really needed to clean.
The Saint Bernard seemingly ran to the kitchen, whining softly, urging Hank to follow.
Stopping to grab his gun, Hank continued.
He picked up his pace a bit, the strange activity putting him on edge. Hairs on his arm stood up as he entered pitch-black kitchen.
Darkness had took over the house, only faint glows from the TV and something else on the floor that gave off a soft light. Hank flipped the light switch on, preparing for the worst.
What he saw wasn't an intruder, no, but an android curled in on himself by the cabinets. His LED was a golden yellow, flickering red every so often.
Hank's entire body visibly relaxed, letting a soft exhale fall out of his lips. "Connor?" Anxiety faded into concern as he tiredly took in the sight. Connor sat on the floor, legs out, leaning his back against cupboard doors. He was wearing pajamas Hank had given him, or more like old clothes that didn't fit him anymore.
Connor didn't react to the older man's voice. Instead, he stared at the floor infront of him with no apparent expression. Worry creeped into Hank's mind. He set his gun down on the table, expression concerned.
Hank approached, bending down infront of the RK800. "Connor? You in there?" He almost reached out to touch the android but hesitated.
Hank gently moved his hand, softly tapping Connor's shoulder. He remembered what happens if Connor gets startled. Youch. Took his wrist a month to heal from that sprain. Kid felt so bad about it, he cleaned the whole house. Three times.
"Hm," Connor blinked, raising his gaze to Hank. It didnt seem like he actually registered that the lieutenant was there. It was like he was looking through him. Shit, what was up with him? Was he malfunctioning or something?
"Connor, you're freaking me out here," Hank looked the boy up and down. Hank searched for any sign of injury. The kid had a habit of hiding injuries.
He was slouched, which already was a concerning sight. The kid never relaxed his posture, no matter what.
But, what really worried Hank was how Connor slightly shook, his hands trembling in his lap. The Lieutenants brow furrowed and his voice was laced with more concern than before. "Are you okay?"
It might've only been a few months, what was it? 5? 6? But, Hank had never seen Connor like this. He seemed so distant. Dissociated, even.
The RK800 had some moments, but overall was pretty reserved and formal. He always kept a calm, stoic expression, never letting– or at least showing– that anything bothered him. He was caring, though. In his own... Connor way. It was clear the kid didn't like talking about himself, or his newfound emotions.
And, sure maybe that wasnt the healthiest thing in the world... But everytime he tried to push Connor for something, anything, but was met with a smile and redirection. Like clockwork, every single fucking time he asked.
Red LED? No worries, Hank. Did you know that I taught Sumo to roll over yesterday?
Roughed up by anti-android protestors? All good, Hank. How is that case coming along?
Emotions? I'm fine, no need to worry. Do you want spaghetti or lasagna for dinner?
Damn androids. He cared about Connor. Hell, the android had even listened to his own fucking problems. Connor had listened to his drunk ramblings, to his grief filled rants. The kid had seen Hank vunerable. Hank just didn't know how to get him to do the same, and the kid was stubborn - and damn fucking good at redirecting.
Hank's irritation slipped away, it was just masking the concern he felt. He had been worried more and more about Connor lately. He knew something was up.
Connor closed his eyes for a second, before opening them once more, recognizing Hank a foot away from him. His eyes widened for a moment before looking around. He was on the kitchen floor. Right.
His internal clock read 2:38:27 AM.
Sitting up, "Lieutenant?" his voice slightly quivered, filled with static. Connor silently hoped Hank ignored it.
That caused a grimace from Hank. "Yeah, er, hi Connor," though the lieutenant seemed relieved to see Connor speak, gently shaking his head.
"You better have a damn good excuse of why your laying on the kitchen floor. At two in the morning, I might add." His words had an undertone of worry, something Connor had learned to recognize. It had gotten more common recently. Hank was concerned about him.
Connor's chest hurt at that. Or less hurt, and more heavy pressure in his chassis. He didn't want to worry Hank. He was fine.
Avoiding stasis for 17 days isn't the smartest thing Connor's done, sure, but wasn't being irrational something that came with emotions? With deviancy? Not that he was doing that right, though. No matter what, he was awkward and too machine-like. He was meant to be a deviant and somehow was failing at that. Connor's chest hurt at that thought.
He was certain the Lieutenant had noticed the lack of stasis. Or at least the effects. It made his processor slow, his movements clumsy, speech delayed. All things Hank had gave him a not-so-sneaky worried glance for. Truth be told, the lack of stasis wasnt doing much for his stress levels, either. Connor sees a red 78% in the corner of his HUD. He felt fine. No reason for it to be that high.
Wait, what did Hank ask again?
"Sorry," Connor blinked and met concerned blue eyes with his own. "Sorry, Lieutenant. What... What did you say?" He stumbled over his words, something Connor rarely did. Perhaps if he was more focused, Connor would've cared.
Hank's face morphed into pure concern. "Kid, I asked you why you were sitting on the kitchen floor." The lieutenant sighed and rubbed the bridge if his nose, deciding to sit on the floor opposite of Connor. "Listen, I'm not stupid, Connor. I know somethings up. There's no point in pretending or giving me that 'dont worry about me' shit."
Connor's lip twitched, brow furrowing as his gaze fell to the floor. He noticed how his hands shook. The pressure in his chassis worsened. It felt like his chest was going to collapse.
Sometimes he wished he was still a machine. Or was he ever a machine? Either way, it was easier to follow orders than think.
He yearned for Amanda. Connor knew he shouldn't, but he did. He wanted her. Even though she's the reason why he hasn't slept.
Her words. The blizzard, the frigid air. The feeling of his biocomponents freezing. Each limb locking up, snow landing on him. Barely reaching the emergency exit, seeing his gun pointed at Markus.
There was a danger.
It would be for the best if he neutralized the threat.
Himself.
"Connor! Connor, answer me!" Hank had his hand on his shoulder again. He raised his voice, softly shaking the zoned out android.
"Sorry," Connor blinked a few times, avoiding eye contact. "I was doing..." He seemed to close his eyes hard and let out a shaky exhale. "I was doing a diagnostic."
Hank stared, flickering his gaze to Connors LED and back to Connor. Connor fought the urge to cover it up. "I am going to head to my room." He went to stand, but his legs were unsteady. Trying to mask the unsteadiness, he forced a step forward. His legs buckled beneath him.
"Shit kid, I gotcha," Hank reached out and helped Connor sit back on the ground.
Slightly embarrassed, Connor kept his head down. "Thank you, lieutenant." He forced out, static in his clipped voice. Connor leaned back onto the cupboard behind him. He stared at nothing in particular on the ceiling. Anything but meeting Hank's eyes. His concerned, worried eyes that made Connors artificial stomach drop. He was fine.
The man was kind enough to let him stay in his house, and he was in debt to him for that. Connor should've opened up by now, should've let Hank in. But he just... can't.
"And, I'm fine. Thanks for your concern."
"You can't even look me in the eyes and say that." Hank scoffed. "I didn't get to be a lieutenant just by luck, ya know. I know you're lying, Connor. Tell me what's up," Hank was no longer just gonna brush it off and move on like he had several times before.
Hank was stubborn and he knew Connor was hiding something. Connor was stubborn too.
But Connor was also exhausted.
He'd rather just go back to staring at the ground absentmindedly.
Connor didn't deserve this treatment, this amount of care. Markus should've shot him in the church.
"You can talk to me, you know that right? Im not gonna judge you or something," Hank gripped Connors shoulder a bit tighter as if to bring him back to the moment.
"I mean look at me, do I look like I'm in a place to judge?" The lieutenant almost laughed, before focusing on the look on Connors face. There wasnt even a slight hint of a smile that he usually roused out of Connor. Connor couldn't bring himself to please the lieutenant right now.
"Shit," Hank removed his hand off Connor, and took a deep, long breath. "Talk to me, son. I'm not leaving until you tell me what's up."
Connors gaze trailed over each of Hank's features, gathering the emotion from it. He knew he was worried and concerned, but there was something else. Understanding? Empathy? Sympathy? Pity?
What wasn't to pity about Connor? That poor deviant who killed his own kind. The poor android who can't even be trusted in his own body.
Connor recognized his stress levels were too high, but he couldn't bring himself to care.
Connor notes Hank's gun. It was sitting on the table. Getting to it would be tricky, considering his movement impaired. Connor quickly forced himself up, almost falling.
"Woah, kid, sit down. The fuck you doing?"
Hank would be safer without him. Everyone would.
Connor stumbled as he tried to get past Hank, but Hank grabbed his arm. "What are you fucking doing, Connor? Sit down, you're gonna fall," Hank was now also on his feet, grabbing Connors forearm, confused and worried.
Hank wasn't safe as long as Connor was around. Markus wasn't safe. No deviants were safe. He thought of the deviants he killed. All the deviants that died in Jericho from the raid that Connor caused.
If anything, he deserved this.
Connor eyed the loaded gun on the table, then an expressionless look at Hank.
The lieutenant quickly pieced together Connor's intentions. "No."
Hank grabbed both Connors arms and forced him to the ground.
Connor was too weak to put up much of a fight.
Filled with static, Connor commanded, "Hank, get off of me." He pushed against the lieutenant who held his hands to the ground by his head easily.
Why couldn't Hank see? He was protecting him.
"You don't understand!" Connor yelled, the first time in months. It glitched and clipped off oddly. Connor ignored the crimson 99% in the corner of his view. The urge to bash his head on the ground was the most appealing thing in this moment. But the way Hank held him down, prevented him from getting up enough so he could slam his head on the floor.
The older man raised his voice, matching Connor's volume, "Then fucking tell me, Connor! What don't I understand? Because it looks like you were about to shoot yourself with my own damn gun!" Anger laced his words, the concern quickly turning into fury. Hank's expression was tight, the wrinkles all curling in a displeased frown.
He cared about Connor. That was his first mistake. Connor was expendable.
Hank yelled, "Do you think I can take–"
The lieutenant cut himself off, biting his lip and looking off to the side. He took a deep breath.
Hank took in the sight of the shaking android below him. "Just fucking talk to me, Connor. For once in your life." He mumbled that last sentence, his voice getting quieter.
Connor's struggling lessened as he listened. He stared at Hanks face, eyebrow furrowing slightly. He was slowly processing his words.
Did he see something more in Connor?
Surprisingly, Hank's yelling had brought his stress levels down.
They were now at a steady 89%. The urge to bash his head against the floor had eased up, and he could think a bit more than he could a minute ago. The awful weight in his chest returned, and Connor felt his lips pull down into a frown.
A whisper came from the trembling android, "I... apologize," he looked to the side and closed his eyes. "I'll explain. I didn't mean to upset you." Connors voice was unsteady and he exhaled slowly. "I won't self destruct."
Hank glared at Connor, "Fucking hell. You're scaring the piss out of me." He released his grip on Connor a bit, "You better start talking." He fully let him go and sat back, still ready to grab the android be if he tried anything.
Connor sat back up, leaning against the cupboards. He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again. Why was this so hard?
Piecing the words together slowly, "I haven't entered stasis in quite some time," he avoided Hank's gaze and prepared as he expected reprimand. A soft sigh slipped from the lieutenants lips and Connor heard him shuffle closer.
When the reprimand never came, Connor continued. "In stasis I go through memories and sort them while my systems have an opportunity to replenish and go through diagnostics. During stasis my systems seem to be bringing up," Connor stopped, thinking about his words. He didn't want to worry the man anymore. "...Irrelevant memories instead of helpful ones."
"It's illogical." Connor admits, furrowing his brow and looking downward in shame. "It shouldn't effect me, she's... gone." He pauses, not fully believing it himself.
"Nightmares, huh?" Hank gives a sympathetic look, leaning back a bit and crossing his arms. He honestly looked really stupid in his stained t-shirt and boxers.
Stiffening at the memories, he gave a small nod. A chill runs through his synthetic skin, and Connor almost shivers. He pushes the urge down. He looked up at Hank's expression, seeing nothing but sympathy and concern.
Hank knew better than to push for more.
"It," Connor forces himself to remain calm. It's fine. "It reminded me of times I would certainly like to forget." He stared at his hands sadly. Connor exhaled, meeting Hank's blue eyes
A single droplet conjured in his eyes and fell at the speed of a feather. He wiped it away. Then another came. And another.
He frowned at the realization. "Am I crying?" Connor muttered, his brows furrowing. He swiped at the liquid running down his cheeks. Staring at the substance on his shaking hand, he wondered if this was some cruel joke from Cyberlife.
Hank sighed, giving a sympathetic look. He paused before swallowing his pride and enveloped Connor into a stiff hug. "Seems so." He patted the androids back.
Connor stiffened as he cried awkwardly, not knowing what to do.
Connor looks down at the floor behind Hank, tears dripping down his face. "I'm scared I'll hurt you." He admitted with guilt seeping into his tone.
"You would never hurt me on purpose."
"You don't know that."
"Yeah, I do."
Connor closes his eyes, eventually leaning into the embrace. He was too tired to argue with Hank right now.
Hank expressions softens as the kid relaxes, letting out a small sigh. "You don't have to deal with this shit alone, ya hear me?"
A sniffle could be heard along with a slight head nod against Hank's neck. Hank rolled his eyes, faux annoyance at the clear exhaustion of the android. Android's don't get tired, huh. On another night, Hank would tease him about it.
"Alright, how about you come to my bed tonight? I'll wrap you up in a blanket like a burrito and you can sleep or stasis–" he furrows his brow, "whatever the fuck you do."
"We can watch that show you like whenever you wake up tomorrow." The lieutenant pulls away, patting Connor on the back, looking at the time on the microwave. 2:58 AM.
Connor gave Hank a confused look. "What about work—"
"I'll tell Fowler to fuck off. I deserve a day off, god dammit."
Connor's lips pulled upward as he wiped his face on his sleeve. He went to stand up, but his legs shook, as if they were struggling to hold his weight.
Hank gave Connor a concerned look, before the kid stated, "I got it."
He leaned his weight onto the kitchen counter, trying to step forward and almost falling. A second later, a rose tint appeared on the androids cheeks, embarrassed at needing help. "On second thought, I may require some assistance." Connor avoided Hank's gaze.
Resisting the urge to tease him, Hank nodded. "I'll help ya in a sec, hold up."
Hank stood up and made his way over to the table. He grabbed the gun and went to his closet, presumably locking it in the safe. Connor deflated a bit at that. He wasn't a child. He didn't need the gun locked away from him.
A few minutes later, Hank came back with a smile on his face. "I have the fucking perfect blanket for you. You're gonna love it."
Connor smiled weakly, blinking slowly. Exhaustion was really setting in.
Hank helped Connor to the bed, rolled him up in a blanket, which had a bunch of pictures of Sumo on it, and laid him in the bed.
Sumo licked Connors face and settled down, laying his whole body on Connors legs. Connor didnt seem to mind, though. He said the weight was nothing to him. Showoff.
"Hank? Where did you get the idea to wrap me in a blanket?"
Hank turned the light off, "Why? Don't like it?"
Connor shook his head before remembering he couldn't see him. "No, I do." He decided he was too tired to push Hank to answer. It'd been a long night. He let his heavy eyelids fall shut.
Hank cleared his throat, staring at the ceiling.
"It always helped Cole sleep." The lieutenant softly replied, turning on his side and closing his eyes.
A comfortable silence lapsed over the two, broken by a quiet, "Thank you, lieutenant."
Hank rolled his eyes, "I told you its Hank, Connor." He turned to face Connor, trying to show him the unamused look on his face. He found the android had already slipped into stasis.
He smiled and ruffled Connors hair. "Night to you too, kid."