Even before he fully awoke, Connor knew he was safe. He was holding his turtle, the bed under him was soft and comfortable, and the sheets smelled like Hank. he sighed contently before blinking his eyes open and taking stock of his surroundings.
Contentment shifted to confusion.
It wasn't odd that he was in Hank's room. Ever since he had been found he had been sleeping in his dad's bed rather than his own. What was odd was that Hank wasn't there. He usually didn't let Connor out of his sight.
By order of Captain Fowler, they were both off of work until Connor was an adult again. After everything that had happened, he hadn't even begun to argue. The case was closed after all, Eric and Nate had both been caught. Apparently, once they were brought in and Nate had been repaired from the bullet wound, he had told them everything.
Connor yawned, his processor needing the extra cooling as he booted up properly.
While it was strange for dad to get up without him, he didn't fret about it. Judging from the sounds coming from the kitchen, that was where Hank had gone.
Evidently, the house he had been held at once belonged to the late Zlatko Andronikov. The man himself, or what was left of him, had been found on the back lawn. He had been mauled, and left to decompose some time ago, so there was little to define him by.
It was Kara, the AX400 he had chased back during the revolution, that had come forward with the identification. Evidently she and her family had been the ones that called in the tip on the house that ended up saving his life.
Connor grabbed Gavin the turtle and slipped out of the bed, pajama shirt bunching as he set his little feet on the floor.
He had gotten the chance to meet with Kara and her family the other day. He had been… less than dignified during the encounter. Connor had sobbed out an apology for how he had pursued them when he was a machine peppered with gratitude for their actions that ended up saving him.
He stretched, loosening the synthetic muscles that had settled during the night.
Kara had actually hugged him once he finished with his less than coherent babble. She told him it was hard to stay mad at someone so sweet.
Connor hoped the sentiment carried over when he was an adult again.
The noises from the kitchen included talking, so he assumed Hank was on the phone. He didn't use quite that tone when he talked to Sumo and it certainly wasn't loud enough for his dad to be calling to him.
As brutally as this Zlatko man had died, Connor could only feel so much sympathy for him. He had made a business for himself of abducting deviant androids and experimenting on them and selling them. It was barbaric, especially hearing Markus's account of the state some of them had been in when they had made it to New Jericho.
"Come on, Dog," he called to the cat sleeping contently on his pillow. She stretched, twitching and claws extending before settling back down to ignore the summons.
Gavin had brought Dog over the day after he had gotten home, much to Connor's joy and Hank's confusion. He could tell that Dad wasn't particularly fond of the idea of keeping Dog, but hadn't fought it too hard.
She had been one of Zlatko's experiments, which was why she was in the state she was when Connor found her. Fortunately, the experience hadn't seemed to traumatize her too much and she was adjusting to life as a pampered house cat. Even Sumo liked having a new fluffy friend.
Connor wandered out into the living room, pausing for a moment to watch his dad fumble around in the kitchen before he realized he was there. He looked happy today, smiling and even laughing with whoever he was talking to.
"I'm just glad we finally caught the asshole," he was saying. "Fucker doesn't get to mess with my kid and get away with it."
Eric… had also been one of Zlatko's victims.
Connor was tempted to feel sorry for him, to sympathize. But his time in that hell had warped him into a sadistic man with less empathy than a machine. He fully believed that if an android was unregistered, that made them a fair target. That they were a drain on society and its resources and were better off sold as scrap.
How his mind had gotten so twisted, and how Nate had gotten involved, Connor wasn't sure. Everyone was being frustratingly sparse with what information they were sharing with him while he was still small.
Which was fair, he supposed.
His little body could only process so much and even Connor had to admit what he had been through was traumatic. It was probably a good idea to take the time off he had been given to process and adjust so he could be ready to return to work once he was an adult again.
Besides, with his body finally in for repair, his days as a child were numbered. He intended to enjoy them while they lasted.
Connor finally made his way into the kitchen and Hank smiled warmly, noticing him enter. "Yeah, he just got up," he told the person on the phone. "I'll ask him and get back to you, alright?"
"Good morning," Connor greeted as soon as he hung up the phone.
"Morning, kiddo," Hank said as he picked him up without a second thought, not that Connor was surprised. He had practically lived in his dad's arms the past few days. He set him on the counter so he could be more at eye level while he continued making his breakfast.
"Who was that on the phone?" Connor asked when he didn't immediately volunteer the information.
Hank stirred at the scrambled eggs on the stove, cursing as the edges started to burn. "Markus," he answered, scraping at the bits that were sticking. "He was checking in, wanted to know how you were doing."
"Yeah?" He prompted, knowing from Hank's own comment there was more, something he apparently needed to talk to him about. "Did he have any news about my body?"
"He did, actually. Yeah." Hank shut off the stove and transferred his eggs to a clean plate. Flakes of burnt egg decorated it like some kind of sad confetti. "Damn it."
"Well? What did he say?" Connor wasn't particularly comforted by how elusive the Lieutenant was being.
Hank looked up, then deposited the burnt pan into the sink. He tried not to be a bit smug at the fact he wasn't the only one who could struggle in the kitchen sometimes. His dad took the plate in one hand, then settled Connor back onto his hip with the other. "Well… he says it's done."
Connor blinked, the information taking a moment to properly sink in. "Wait, done? As in, I can transfer? I can be big again?" He was sure his dad could feel him buzzing with excitement.
He shook as Hank chuckled before setting him in one of the kitchen chairs. "Good lord, could you be in any more of a hurry to grow up?"
"Sorry," he apologized insincerely. "I'm just excited. It feels like I've been six for ages."
"It's been two weeks, that's not ages." He pulled a face when he took his first bite of eggs, but kept eating them anyway.
"I know," Connor conceded. He swung his feet and picked at a loose thread on Gavin. He needed to fidget, to move. Hopefully his quarter was still in his adult pocket, the nickel just wasn't the same. "It just feels like it. I'm ready to have my body back."
Hank was quiet for a long moment, his fork clicked against the plate as he scraped at his food. "Would it be terrible if you were a kid for a little longer?"
Connor stopped fidgeting. "What?"
Hank sighed, getting up to dispose of what was left of his eggs. "Look, it's not… shit, that probably sounded bad, didn't it? Fuck."
"What is it, Hank?" Connor asked. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't concerned, but he trusted his dad. "Why do you want me to stay a kid?"
"I don't" he insisted immediately. "Dammit. You know I love you kid or adult, that's not what I meant."
He turned to face him, looking up at his father curiously. It seemed like he was trying to craft his sentence carefully to avoid offending him, but was picking the wrong options. "What did you mean then?" he prompted.
Hank sighed. "It's just that, well. Simon said that uploading you to your new… or old, I guess, body would take a while, yeah?"
"That's right," Connor confirmed. "It will take between ten to fifteen hours."
"Right, well…" he scratched at his chin absently, "I was kinda hoping we could do something special today."
Was that all? Connor didn't see why that was made into such a big deal. "Can't we do whatever it is another day?"
"Well, that would kinda defeat the purpose," Hank laughed. He deposited the dirty dish in the sink before wandering back over to him. His amused expression indicated that there was something he was missing. "You… don't know what today is, do you?"
For the life of him, Connor couldn't deduce a proper answer. "...Monday?"
"Oh, kid," Hank sighed, crouching down to be at eye level with him. The kind smile never left his face. No matter how many times he saw it, Connor still managed to be amazed by how much affection his father could display for him with just one look. "It's your birthday."
He blinked, quietly acknowledging the reality that it was, in fact, the fifteenth of august. His official release date. "Oh, I guess it is."
Hank's hand found its way to Connor's head and he ruffled his hair. He didn't resist leaning into the touch, enjoying the sensation. "Leave it to you to forget your own birthday."
"Sorry," he apologized sheepishly. Admittedly, birthdays weren't really a thing androids tended to celebrate, but he was also aware that it was a big deal for Hank.
His dad just gave him another ruffle. "No reason to be sorry, kiddo," he insisted. "And if you want to head right to New Jericho, if you want to grow up right away, that's fine. I'm not gonna fight you on that, I know you want your body back. But…" he drew out the word meaningfully, giving him an enticing smirk. "If you can stand being a kid for a few more hours, I've got a surprise for you."
Well, how was he supposed to resist that? A surprise? He couldn't just leave it a mystery like that. He had to know.
"I… suppose I can be a kid for a little while longer."
Hank laughed again before planting a kiss on the top of his head. "Good. Go get ready then, I'll get everything set up."
Connor slid off the chair but paused. "Where are we going?" He asked, already trying to work out the mystery.
"It's a surprise, Connor," Hank scolded, already taking out his phone, presumably to get things ready for today. "That means I don't tell you shit."
He didn't pout, but Hank would probably argue that was the expression he used. "But how will I know what to wear?"
His dad rolled his eyes and gave him a gentle push towards his room. "Just wear whatever, we're not going to the fuckin' opera."
Well, that was some information at least, Connor mused making his way to his room. Although, the opera wasn't really on his list of possibilities anyway. Still, normal clothes suggested nothing too out of the ordinary. Maybe they were going to the bookshop? Not that going there would be something different. They had been frequenting the place since he had gotten back.
Much to Connor's relief, the sexual tension had eased between Hank and Mr. Mars. They had been talking a lot, actually. Conversing for hours on end, leaving him to happily peruse the crime fiction section uninterrupted. It was nice.
Connor pulled on a fresh pair of jeans and a new polo before wiggling his feet into a pair of brightly colored socks. He figured he could indulge himself with less professional attire on the mostly concealed article of clothing. Especially since he wasn't working.
Whatever Hank had planned for the day, he was sure he was going to like it.
-o-
"Wait, I thought we weren't going to New Jericho?" Connor asked, confused. He may not have a great view from where he sat, but he knew the way to Bell Island by heart.
He could see Hank's amused expression in the rearview mirror as he looked back at him. "We're not," he said cryptically.
Connor swung his feet both in frustration and anticipation. "Then where are we going?"
"You'll see," his dad laughed, leaving him to his puzzlement.
He crossed his arms in a very mature and not at all petulant way. "Or, you could just tell me," he supplied.
"Nice try, kiddo." He shook his head, but kept his eyes on the road. "Just be patient, we're almost there."
Connor had come to learn over his brief childhood that patience wasn't something he particularly excelled at. Especially when there was a mystery involved. He wanted to know the answers, and he wanted to know them right away.
Maybe it was a good thing he wasn't working. Trying to solve cases would be agonizing.
He swung his feet, played with his turtle, and waited impatient for the situation to resolve itself. Consciously, Connor knew it was only a couple of minutes, but to his child-like mind, it felt like hours before they finally arrived.
He couldn't see the sign telling them where they were until after Hank had unbuckled him and helped him out of the car.
"Leave Gavin here," he told him, gesturing to the turtle, but Connor wasn't paying attention anymore.
"The aquarium!" He gasped happily reading the words plastered bold across the building. "It's the aquarium, we're seeing fish!"
His ecstatic run was cut short before it could really begin as Hank grabbed him by the collar of his shirt. "Hey, no running off," he scolded. "And for fuck's sake, I said leave the turtle here. I don't want you losing it and crying about it later."
"Sorry." Connor gave his dad a sheepish smile, bouncing on his heels in anticipation as he handed Gavin to tuck back into the car. He loved fish, he wanted to see them up close.
Hank chuckled, locking the car with one hand and reaching for Connor with the other. He accepted the contact without a thought. "I'm glad you're excited, kiddo," he told him. "But I'm serious, no running off. This is a big place and there are a lot of people. You gotta stick by me, alright?"
Only half paying attention and already trying to get Hank to move towards the entrance, Connor nodded. "Right."
"Never fuckin' listens," he sighed following after his kid. "Thank God for backup."
Connor was too determined to get in and see the fish to acknowledge or care about the comment, but as they approached the aquarium it became evident that the crowd surrounding the entrance wasn't just waiting around to get in.
At the center of the mass of people, expertly ignoring the comments and stares, were a group of very familiar public figures.
"Good, everyone's here," he heard his dad tell him over the commotion. "Common, time to fuckin' celebrate."
They pushed their way forward and his excitement only grew as they got closer to his friends and brother. Markus smiled at him, and Connor began to think there might just be something to this whole 'birthday' thing after all.
