Chapter Text
January 13, 2039 - 4:30 PM
Hank finished off the last of the report, filling in the details of what happened when he found Connor and his repairs at Jericho. Recounting those events had left his chest feeling tight, bringing back the memory of the fear he felt at the moment. It also brought back the anger he’d been trying so hard all day to tamp down on.
He was glad to finally be done with the damn thing, and tossed it onto the coffee table. A part of him also had to admit that maybe Fowler was right to not let him do anything else on this case. If Hank had to see the people who’d done this to his kid, he didn’t think the threat of losing his job or jail could hold him back. He’d turn those fuckers into paste. It was a thought that had been running in his head on loop, coming back to him again and again.
It burned him up knowing that even if they managed to find Connor’s attackers, their sentence wouldn’t be nearly as severe as it should be. Because for all the posturing the government had done, claiming they acknowledged androids as living beings, there were still so many things that had yet to catch up.
For all the people who were sympathetic to the androids’ cause, there were still too many who were indifferent or downright hostile. There was a time when Hank would have been part of that crowd. Before Cole, he would’ve laughed anyone claiming androids were alive out of the room, and after, he’d be more likely to throw fists. But after meeting Connor, Hank had realized just how blind he’d been. Even before deviating, the kid was far from machine-like with the amount of nervous ticks he had and a desperation for approval.
Even beyond Connor, all the deviants they met were obviously more than just malfunctioning machines. Markus made that abundantly clear with their final stand on the night of the revolution. it should have been obvious to everyone then that androids were more than machines. Or maybe they did realize, but they didn’t care. They’d rather go on abusing them, treating them as less.
A soft bark from Sumo brought Hank out of the increasingly negative thoughts. He unclenched his hands and looked over at the dog. Sumo was looking between him and Connor, tail hanging low as he made another noise. Hank frowned and switched his gaze to the android lying on the couch.
The first thing to catch his eye was the kid’s LED, spinning yellow at his temple. The color wasn’t unusual for an android recovering from damage, at least according to the technician, but the tense expression was a contrast from when Connor had fallen asleep. Rather than a calm neutral, his face was pulled together with tension. A dash of red broke through the LED, and Hank stood to approach him.
“Connor?” he leaned over to rest a hand on his shoulder.
The reaction was instant. As soon as Hank’s hand made contact, Connor’s eyes snapped open, and he swung out at Hank with his functioning arm. Hank stumbled back quick enough to miss the brunt of the attack, but Connor’s knuckles still clipped his nose. Hank swore, bringing a hand up to cover it before too much blood could escape.
Connor was sitting up now, eyes darting frantically around the room. His body otherwise was dead still, not even moving to breathe. Sumo hunkered behind Hank - having been startled by Connor’s sudden movement - and gave a soft whine.
“Take it easy, son,” Hank held up his other hand in a placating manner, “no one’s gonna hurt you.” Connor’s eyes snapped to his, dropped to where he was pinching his nose for a moment, then went back up.
“...I hit you,” his voice was strained. The LED at his temple continued to spin loops of red.
“Yeah, got me pretty good,” Hank said.
“I’m sorry, Hank, I didn’t mean to. I didn’t realize I was- I thought-”
“Hey, it’s fine. Nothing’s broken,” Hank quickly reassured him. It probably would’ve broken if he’d taken the full hit, but the twinging pain he felt now was nowhere near as bad. “Just take a few deep breaths, alright? I’m gonna clean up, but then I’ll be right back.”
He didn’t want to leave Connor while he was still panicking, but seeing Hank with blood all over his face would do little to help the kid calm down. Thankfully the bleeding wasn’t that bad, and it only took him a few minutes to clean up and return to the living room. Sumo was still keeping his distance, lying down in his bed and staring at Connor.
Hank walked around the couch, making his footsteps extra loud so he wouldn’t wind up startling Connor. It worked, and Connor’s eyes tracked him as he took a seat on the coffee table across from the kid. He was sitting up fully now, fingers twisted in the blanket pooled around his lap. Hank frowned when he saw the kid still wasn’t breathing.
“Con-”
“Are you okay?” Connor asked.
“That’s what I want to ask you,” Hank said, and then at Connor’s insistent stare added, “I’m fine. But you need t-”
Again, Connor cut him off, words tumbling out in a rush. “I really am sorry. I didn’t realize it was you at first, and I didn’t know where I was. It’s like I was still there for a moment and when I felt your hand I thought you were…. were someone else, so-”
“Connor, breathe,” Hank ordered, clamping his hands on Connor’s shoulders. Connor stopped and did as instructed, taking in a shaking breath and letting it out. He seemed a little warm where Hank was making contact, so he raised one hand to feel the android’s forehead. Connor minutely leaned into it.
“You feel warm. What’s your temperature at?” Hank asked.
“I didn’t realize my breathing program had shut off. It’ll go back down,” Connor muttered and took in another breath as if to prove his point. Hank raised an eyebrow, not missing how the kid tried to avoid the question. Connor blew the breath out in a sigh.
“One-hundred and two. But it’s not critical.”
“Still should try and get it down,” Hank said. He stood and went to the kitchen to retrieve an ice pack from the freezer. Returning to the living room, he sat down next to Connor this time and settled the ice pack atop his head.
“Now tell me what was going on,” Hank prompted.
Connor nodded, and his voice was steadier this time when he spoke, “I was experiencing a memory recall while in stasis, or what you might call a nightmare. They were hurting me again, but it went on longer than before. And it was worse,” He was staring down at his lap, scrunching up the blanket in his good hand. “I was still in stasis when I felt your hand, but I thought it was them. I only realized after and… I didn’t mean to hit you.”
It was roughly the explanation Hank had expected to hear and nothing that he didn’t expect, but it still added to the now near-constant anger he felt about this whole situation. Connor had had enough trouble sleeping in the couple of weeks following the revolution - not only because he wasn’t used to sleeping in the way humans did. He’d only just gotten into a regular schedule in the past month or so and now they’d be going through another round of sleepless nights - because like hell was Hank going to make Connor do this alone, sleep be damned.
“They won’t hurt you again. When we find them, I’ll make sure of that,” Hank said.
“Even if we find them, they’ll be out in a year.”
“We’re going to find them,” he tried not to let his anger show. He didn’t want Connor thinking he was mad with him. “And whenever they get out, I’m still not letting them get anywhere near you.”
“You can’t watch me all the time.”
“I can try.”
“That’s not the point,” Connor’s words were coming out clipped now, bitterness creeping in, though his eyes remained fixed on his lap. “I shouldn’t need you to protect me, I should have been able to get away on my own.”
“That’s bullshit and you know it. You were outnumbered and they had weapons. You did the best you could,” Hank argued.
“It wasn’t enough.”
Hank stopped holding up the ice pack and tossed it to the table to grab hold of the android’s shoulders again. He turned Connor to look at him, waiting until he lifted his eyes. “Connor, what happened wasn’t your fault, and worrying about what should’ve happened or could’ve happened won’t do you any good.” Hank knew that better than anyone, and said the next part with a wry smirk, ”Unless you’re tryin’ to end up a bitter drunk like me, but I don’t recommend it.”
“I’m not sure that would be possible. Alcohol doesn’t have much effect on androids,” Connor said. He said it like a dry statement of fact, but Hank had spent enough time around Connor by now to know that this wasn’t him missing the point - he was attempting a joke. Whether it was because he actually took what Hank said to heart or just wanted to get him off his case, Hank couldn’t be sure yet.
“Good. Don’t want to be too much of a bad influence on you,” Hank said. Connor offered a half-smile in return and some of the tension seeped out of his shoulders. Hank let him go then, and grabbed the ice pack off the table, handing it over for Connor to hold up himself.
But there was still one more point Hank needed to make. “Connor, you know I’m going to protect you, whether you think you need it or not.”
That’s what family does. He didn’t say it. Maybe he should, but he couldn’t bring himself to, not yet. Family wasn’t something Hank ever thought he’d have again and some part of him felt like it would all be ripped away if he admitted it out loud. It almost was ripped away again. So he couldn’t say it, but he hoped Connor understood what he meant anyway.
The kid’s expression was searching, eyes moving back and forth like he was initiating some kind of scan - and hell, maybe he was. When he spoke, his voice was quiet, “You don’t have to.”
The words were hesitant and seemed to answer Hank’s silent statement with an ‘ Are you sure?’ that showed Connor’s own fear of having all of this taken away because he asked for too much. After all, what had CyberLife ever done to make him think that someone could care about him, that he could have a family?
“I’m going to,” Hank said and put all the conviction he could into those words. And knowing how Connor could be, he added, “I want to.”
“I… want to protect you too, Hank,” Connor said, the earlier attempt at a smile relaxing onto his face.
Connor had already been protecting him since the moment they met. But back then he had the excuse of an android’s obligations, a program that dictated human lives must always be put first. There was more to it than that, of course, but that was the excuse. Connor still wasn’t always great about saying what he wanted, so Hank knew this was a lot for him. And damn if that didn’t make him feel even more sappy about all this.
“Yeah, well…” Hank cleared his throat, “That’s enough mushiness for one night. Or maybe the week.”
Sumo decided to rescue Hank then by coming back over to shove his head into Connor’s lap. Hank would have to give the dog an extra treat later for butting in before he could become a mess. While Connor was distracted, Hank took the opportunity to turn the TV on to one of those dog movies the kid enjoyed so much.
The ice pack sat abandoned on the table, discarded so Connor could pet Sumo. It was looking a little melty, so Hank took it to the kitchen and grabbed a new one. Hank planted the fresh one back on Connor’s head, but he barely seemed to notice, so engrossed in the movie and loving on Sumo. A fierce, protective urge burned in Hank’s chest. He may have not been able to keep Connor safe this time, but he made a vow to himself then that he wouldn’t let it happen again. Anyone who wanted to mess with his kid would have to go through him.