The whole day had been a fuckin' nightmare. Hank understood why he needed to make things as normal as possible, but it was nearly unbearable with Connor so off. Any time he tried to spark something in the kid, it was met with a blank stare and utter disinterest. Not even Sumo could get through to him.

It was disheartening.

It was painful.

What's more, he had to be careful that whatever he did wouldn't cause him to glitch. Nothing was safe, apparently. The smallest things seemed to be capable of setting him off, even just mentioning he was going to get something for dinner. It was exhausting.

So, when Connor spoke up without prompting, suggested that he had a solution, he had dared to hope. He had dared to think that maybe he had found the trigger to his memories, or at least had an idea. Or maybe found a way to stop the glitches.

But no. Instead, all he could recommend was giving up. Getting rid of him. As though he was just an inconvenience. A broken machine. Replaceable.

It broke Hank's heart.

This was his kid, damnit. He wanted more than anything for him to feel loved.

He honestly didn't know how Connor was going to react to the hug. Hank had figured he probably wouldn't understand. He thought that maybe he would just stand there, unsure of what was happening. He had hoped it would make him at least a little happy.

He didn't expect him to pass out.

"Shit!" He swore as soon as he felt Connor go limp. Hank just barely managed to catch the deadweight as he fell, manipulating the form onto the couch rather than the floor. "What the hell did it this time?" He lamented. "Don't tell me I can't even hug you."

Hank reached for Connor's LED, ready to reboot him again, but stopped, hand hovering over the light. It wasn't flashing red like it usually did. Instead, it was cycling between colors. Blue, yellow, red, yellow, blue… This was new. And new did not leave Hank with a good feeling.

"Fuck, what the hell is wrong now?"

Connor wasn't spasming or making that god-awful screeching noise. He was glad for that, but that meant this was something different. Did that mean he was supposed to handle it differently? Should he still reboot him? Should he call Markus? Kamski? Fuck, he had no idea.

"Screw it," he said and made to press down on the LED. His fingers had barely brushed the side of Connor's face when his eyes opened suddenly.

"Shit!" Hank exclaimed again, startled. He drew his hand back, but kept at the ready incase he started to seize again. "You scared the hell out of me, kid. You ok?"

Connor blinked a few times before his eyes settled on Hank. He nodded hesitantly. "I… I'm ok," he answered softly.

Hank sighed in relief, sitting ungracefully on the floor by the couch. He rested his head in his hand. "Good. Good, that's… Fuckin' hell. Ok, good." He rubbed at his temple feeling the beginnings of a headache that had nothing to do with his previous concussion. God, he just wanted this to end.

"Hank," he heard Connor call to him.

He didn't look up right away. He couldn't deal with it right now. Couldn't deal with anything else. "Yeah, son?" he asked, voice heavy. He felt defeated.

Connor sat up slowly, shifting his position until he was facing him. "Hank, I'm ok," he said again.

Hank didn't miss the emphasis. His heart skipped a beat, afraid to hope, but he finally looked up at the kid. Connor had a small, but definite smile on his face and there was a light in his eyes that had been absent from the moment Amanda had taken him.

"Connor?"

Connor's smile widened and he nodded slightly. Hank pulled himself from the floor faster than he thought his age would ever allow, knees popping in the process. "Holy shit, kid," he sat on the edge of the couch, pulling Connor back into his arms as tightly as he was able. "You're ok ok? You remember?" He asked.

"I remember," Connor confirmed, voice somewhat muffled by Hank's shirt as he enthusiastically returned the embrace.

"Thank fuck," he sighed in relief. He felt tears pooling in his eyes again, for once not from sadness. "I don't know how much more of that I could take."

Connor pulled away so he could look Hank in the eye, his expression apologetic. "I'm sorry, Hank," he said. "I never wanted to cause you any stress."

"Ah, don't do that, Connor," Hank scolded. He ruffled his hair gently. "None of this shit was your fault. I'm just glad you're alright."

"Still," Connor insisted. "You went through a lot because of me."

"Hell of a lot better than the alternative," he countered softly. The last thing he wanted was to remember how close he had been to coming home to Connor's corpse in the backyard. But the kid needed some reassurances right now. "I can handle a little stress. I'm not losing you. Not giving up on you, remember?"

A small smile creeped back onto his face, and Connor nodded. "I know, Hank. I believe you. I just wish none of this ever happened."

"You and me both," he scoffed. "I think I've had enough bullshit to last me the rest of the year." He gave Connor's hair another ruffle before pulling away fully and leaning back into the couch. "Seriously though, I'm so fuckin' glad you're back. Mindless you is… well it's not fun.

Connor nodded, his body trembling slightly. "I believe that is something we can agree on. It felt very… isolating, I suppose. I could perceive the world around me, but nothing truly made sense. Like I was disconnected somehow."

"God, that sounds awful," Hank admitted.

"It was."

Hank's face twisted into a smirk. "You know I've gotta give you crap though. A hug? Really? That's what you picked for your trigger?"

"What's wrong with that?" Connor frowned.

"Nothing," he insisted. "Just that you could pick literally anything, and you went with a hug?"

"Yes, but a hug made sense," he argued, crossing his arms defiantly. "I knew that there would be a period of vulnerability once the file was active. Someone giving me a hug likely isn't someone that wants to do me harm. It also increased the probability I wouldn't simply collapse without support, potentially injuring myself. Besides," He smiled and the sight warmed Hank's heart. "I enjoy hugs."

"Fair enough," Hank conceded with a chuckle.

"Still," Connor went on. "In hindsight, I probably should have alerted you to the trigger when I designed it."

He nodded in agreement. "Yeah, that probably would've been smart." He rubbed the back of his head, wincing slightly as his hand made contact with his bruise.

Connor's smile faltered slightly. "How is your head?" he asked.

"Eh, I've had worse," he responded. It wasn't a lie. His head was healing nicely and wasn't really bothering him anymore. The last thing he wanted was Connor feeling guilty about it. "If you don't believe me, why don't you just do that creepy scanning thing."

"I can't."

Hank frowned again. "You- what? Why not?"

Connor shrugged, but he could tell the kid was bothered. "The backup file restored my memories, but several of my systems are still offline. My diagnostic software is among them."

"Shit, you ok?" Hank asked him, leaning forward. He knew how much Connor used that shit, even in his daily life. It had to be hard to still have it cut off.

"I'll be alright," Connor insisted. "I can rewrite the code myself based on my memory of it. It will just take time."

He breathed out a sigh of relief, content that the kid was being honest. His nerves were so shot at this point, any little abnormality with him was concerning. "Alright, good. You'll let me know if there's anything I can do to help, right?"

"I will," he promised. "However, I don't believe I'll require your assistance. It isn't difficult, just tedious." He contemplated for a moment before adding, "it would likely be most efficiently handled during rest mode."

Hank nodded, not even trying to hold back his grin. "So what you're saying, is that you need-"

"Yes," Connor interrupted with a smirk of his own. "I need to sleep if I am going to recover."

He couldn't help but find it amusing how the kid admitted to it. He leaned over and gave Connor's shoulder an affectionate squeeze. "I'll let you get to bed then," he told him. He stood up, stretching his back in the process. It was late anyway and god knew Hank needed some sleep too. "It's been a hell of a day, and I'm glad it's over."

"I'll see you in the morning, son," he told him, starting down the hall as Connor nodded his agreement and began to settle himself on the couch for the night. He was about to enter his room when he heard Connor calling him again.

"Hank?" His voice was tentative, almost shy.

He poked his head around the corner again to look at him, concerned that something else had happened. "Yeah?"

Connor had sat up, one arm propped on the back of the couch so he could see Hank clearly. "I love you too," he said.

God, it was good to have him back. "No need to get all sappy and shit," Hank teased. He didn't even try to hide his smile, and Connor returned it with one of his own. "Goodnight, Connor."

"Goodnight, Hank."

Hank sunk into his bed with a sigh, body heavy with exhaustion, but heart light. Both of them slept dreamlessly that night.