"Hank, what is this?" He could read it clearly, it was a rhetorical question, but one he still wanted the man to answer.
"Shit," Hank responded. "Sorry, kid. You weren't supposed to see that yet."
He couldn't tear his eyes away from the document in his hands. His mind was spinning, losing his battle with rationality as his fears shrouded him. "These are adoption papers."
"Yeah, they are."
Connor's thirium pump stuttered and his breathing program shut off for a moment. Hank wanted to adopt him. Hank wanted him to be his son, wanted them to be family. It was what he wanted most, but… "Why now?"
Hank's face twisted in confusion. "What?"
His ventilation started again, but it was too fast. His eyes went blurry. Through the ringing in his ears, Connor could barely hear the Lieutenant calling his name. He set the e-document down on the coffee table. He couldn't look at it anymore. It was painful. Everything he wanted, but in a way he couldn't ever attain it.
He wasn't Cole.
Connor was running before he even realized it. He was out the door, rain pelting his face and soaking him through to his chassis. He didn't care. He was suffocating without having a need for breath. His chest was too tight. He had to get away. Had to run. As though he could leave all of his fears behind if he was just fast enough.
Hot tears streamed down his face, mixing with the cool summer rain.
He wasn't Cole.
He could never be Cole.
Connor screamed as a hand clamped around his arm forcing him to stop. His legs fell out from under him and only a set of strong arms wrapping around him stopped him from crashing to the ground.
"Fuck, Connor! What the hell?" Hank demanded panting. He pulled away and Connor knew he was trying to get him to look at him, but he couldn't bring himself to meet the Lieutenant's eyes. For a few moments all that could be heard was the pounding of the rain around them, Hank's labored breathing, and the soft sobs that Connor was unable to suppress.
"Shit, ok, come on," Hank instructed. Connor felt himself being guided to walk, but didn't take note of where until the rain stopped. He glanced up briefly, seeing they had taken shelter at a nearby bus stop.
Hank lifted him, setting him on the bench before kneeling to meet his gaze. "Alright kid, talk to me. What's wrong?"
Connor ducked his head, trying to look away, but Hank stopped him with a gentle hand on the back of his neck. His voice had softened now that the adrenaline of chasing after him had died down. He wanted to respond, but all that came out of Connor's mouth was another sob.
"Hey, shhh, it's ok." The hand on the back of his neck began rubbing small circles, trying to comfort him. "Just, I can't help if I don't know what's wrong. Is it… Is this about the adoption papers?"
Connor just sobbed again, frustration at not being able to articulate the problem only making him cry more. "I'm not… I can't be… I'm not," he choked out between his tears.
"You're not what, Connor?" Hank pressed. "My son? We've talked about this. You're my kid. Even if… even if it's not official or anything, that's not gonna change."
"I'm not… I'm not," he could feel his whole body shaking under Hank's hand. "I'm not Cole!"
He heard the Lieutenant take in a surprised breath. "You're… what?"
Connor closed his eyes and buried his face in his hands. He couldn't see through the tears anymore anyway. "I'm not Cole," he repeated. "I can't be. I can't be him."
"Connor," his voice was still soft, but it now had an edge of sadness to it. "I know that. I would never want you to be."
His voice hitched as he tried to speak again. "Y-you want me to be your s-son. Cole is your son."
"That doesn't mean you aren't. Shit, kid." He heard him moving to sit next to him on the bench. Warm arms wrapped around him tightly. "This is what's been going on? Why you've been upset?"
He nodded even as Hank pulled him closer, his head now pressed against the man's chest. "I can't be him."
Hank kept his voice low. Connor could feel the rumble in his chest as he spoke. "Why would you ever think I want you to be?"
Connor buried his face further into Hank's rain soaked shirt. "There is substantial evidence," he said quietly.
Hank tried shifting him so he could look at his face, but Connor kept it stubbornly hidden. He didn't want to look at the Lieutenant right now. He didn't want to see the confirmation of his fears. "Connor," he heard Hank call gently. "Connor, I don't want you to be anyone but you."
"I'm in his room," Connor mumbled. He was tired of holding it in. He wanted him to understand, wanted him to know that he knew. "I'm wearing his clothes. I… I look like him."
"You look like you, Connor." Hank sighed and he felt his warm breath on his hair. "You're in that room because that's the room that I had. The clothes, shit that's just what I had that would fit you… fuck, just. Shit this wasn't even something on my radar." The hand at the back of his neck squeezed ever so slightly. "Just… can you look at me kiddo?"
Connor shook his head, face rubbing against the worn fabric of his shirt. He couldn't look at him. Not yet. He wanted to believe him, but his fears felt too real.
"Ok," the Lieutenant conceded. "Alright, you're not there yet. That's alright. Just listen then ok?"
Hank didn't wait for a response, which was good since Connor was in no position to give one. The Lieutenant shifted again and he found himself pulled into his lap, now fully engulfed in Hank's arms.
"Cole was… special," he began almost hesitantly. "He was special, and wonderful, and I will always miss him like hell. But I would never try to replace him. He was one of a kind, I… I couldn't, even if I wanted to."
Connor shifted, still not looking at the man, but turning his head so that his cheek pressed against his chest instead of his face. He always felt strange when Hank talked about Cole, like he was somehow intruding on something private.
He felt the Lieutenant's hand move to cup his cheek, but he didn't try to make him look at him. "Connor, the only way you and Cole are the same, is that all of that is true for you too. You're unique. You're special. I would never try to use you like that."
Connor finally ventured to look at him. There were unshed tears in the Lieutenant's eyes. He had made him cry. "I… I'm being irrational again, aren't I?"
He felt Hank's calloused thumb rub the remaining tears from his own eyes. "Little bit, yeah," he told him. He gave him a soft smile. "This doesn't sound like it's something that just came up though. You've been stewin on this crap for a while, huh?"
Connor averted his eyes again. "Ever since I saw what I looked like," he admitted.
"Fuck, seriously? That long?"
He nodded, but pressed his face more firmly into Hank's hand, craving the contact. "I attempted to convince myself that it wasn't true, but it just felt more real as time went on."
"Did I make that worse?" Hank asked.
He glanced up, seeing his worried expression before looking away. "No… well… I don't imagine anything you did was intentional."
He nodded slightly in acknowledgment. "But I did do something."
Connor bit his lower lip. He didn't want the Lieutenant to feel bad, this was his issue to deal with, his irrationality. But, keeping things bottled up certainly didn't help. "It's just..." he conceded. "Well, ever since I've been a six-year-old… you have been significantly more affectionate."
Hank's hand left his face and he missed the warmth immediately. "Do you not want me to be?" The man asked hesitantly.
"No!" Connor insisted, more desperately than he intended. He instinctively grabbed at his shirt, afraid the man would pull away farther. "No, I… I don't mind it at all. It's just...the timing… I thought…" The hand returned, and Connor closed his eyes, pressing his cheek into his palm. He honestly did love the attention. He loved physical contact, especially from Hank.
"Connor," Hank called, prompting him to open his eyes. "Kid, you do realize what else happened right?"
Connor gave him a bewildered look, causing the Lieutenant to sigh loudly.
"You died, Connor," he said. "You died, and I missed you like hell. Of course I'm gonna be affectionate now that I've got you back."
"I…" Connor felt his processor freeze. That was not a parameter he had accounted for when quantifying the Lieutenant's actions. "I hadn't considered that."
"Of-fuckin-course not," Hank rolled his eyes, then pulled him back into a proper hug, hand rubbing up and down his back methodically. He melted into the touch, drinking in the Lieutenant's warmth. "How you doing?" He asked after a moment.
"I think I'm ok," Connor answered honestly. He felt significantly better. Lingering fears aside, Hank wouldn't lie to him. If he said he wasn't using him to replace Cole, he would trust him.
"Good," Hank sighed, pulling him a little tighter. "You gotta start telling me when you're feeling shit like this ok? I can't help if I don't know what's going on."
Connor just nodded. A tension he hadn't even noticed was there ebbed from his body. He closed his eyes and let himself relax into Hank's arms, content to finally let go of his lingering doubts. He let himself feel secure and warm and wanted.
He didn't know how long they stayed like that. All that could be heard was Hank's breathing, his heartbeat, and the steady drum of the rain outside, before the Lieutenant broke the silence."Think the rain is letting up," he said. "You good to head home?"
"Yeah," Connor responded. He made to pull away from the hug, but Hank stopped him. He directed his arms around his neck instead before standing, lifting Connor in the process. "I can walk," he told the Lieutenant, even as he settled his head onto his shoulder.
"Yeah, I know," Hank said, but made no move to put him down.
The rain had in fact eased up, so leaving the shelter of the bus stop wasn't unpleasant. Connor hadn't made it far when he had run, his short legs decreasing his normal speed. The walk back didn't take long. "I'm sorry," Connor said as they approached the house.
"Don't be, kid. You're fine."
Connor shook his head, but kept it tucked under Hank's chin. "I am sorry though. I know I haven't been easy to deal with."
Hank chuckled, shifting him in his arms enough to be able to reach the doorknob. "Believe it or not, Connor, you're pretty tame for a six-year-old."
He pulled back to see Hank's face, convinced he must be joking. "Seriously?"
He laughed again. "Yeah, seriously," he insisted. "Most of the time, you're downright perfect. A little shit, sure, but still." They pushed past Sumo as the two of them made it through the door. "I just gotta get better at navigating those irrational times."
He set Connor down and Sumo immediately began sniffing and licking at him as though inspecting him for damage. He gave the large dog a hug. "So, you're not mad at me or anything?" he said, voice muffled by the dog's fur.
"Nah," Hank told him. "I mean, I'm not happy that you ran off like that, nearly gave me a fuckin' heart attack, but I'm not mad."
Hank made his way to the closet, pulling out a couple of towels and tossing one to Connor. He caught it, less gracefully than he wanted to, but effectively enough. "Let's both get changed," the Lieutenant suggested. "I'll let you pick out a movie, and we can relax the rest of the night. Sound good?"
Connor nodded with a smile, already drying his hair with the towel. "That sounds nice."
Hank returned the gesture and headed to his room. Connor did the same. He considered changing into a new set of normal clothes, but decided against it. They weren't going to be doing anything else that night and something comfortable seemed very appealing at the moment.
A few minutes later, Connor was returning to the living room, dry and wearing his pajamas. He brought his turtle for good measure.
He had evidently beat Hank back, Sumo being the only one waiting for him. He made his way to the couch, but stopped when he saw the e-document still on the coffee table. He picked it up gently. Glancing at the half-filled-in form, Connor found himself wondering if Hank would want to complete it at this point.
"It was always gonna be your choice, you know," Hank called from behind him. Connor looked up, meeting his warm eyes as he joined him in the living room. He gestured to the document in Connor's hand as though it weren't obvious what he was referring to. "I was gonna get it all filled out and shit, but I was gonna ask you before I submit it. Give you the option, you know, if you didn't want me to."
"I want to be adopted, Hank," Connor said, handing him the e-document. He smiled at him sadly. "I just didn't want to be a replacement."
"Never a replacement, kiddo." Hank took it from him with a smile of his own before reaching down to ruffle his hair. "That mean I can finish this thing?" He waved the adoption papers meaningfully.
Connor felt a thrill run through his biocomponents as he realized Hank still wanted him. "I would like that."
"Good," Hank moved over to the couch and sat down, waiting for Connor to join him. "Guess that means you'll need to stop procrastinating and get yourself registered."
"I suppose so," Connor agreed. He began making his way over to the couch himself when he paused, a thought occurring to him. "Registering… the victims..."
"What's that?"
"The victims. None of them were registered," Connor reiterated.
"You mean the case?" Hank asked. "We knew that. That's why it's been so hard tracking them down."
Connor's expression turned pensive. Something wasn't adding up and he could almost put his finger on it. "Yes, but according to the last report I received from Markus, seventy three percent of androids have been registered already. To have all of them be unregistered is odd."
"Yeah, I guess that is odd," Hank agreed. "What are you getting at? You think someone's specifically targeting unregistered androids?"
"Maybe?" Connor crossed his arms. With the stuffed turtle in his hand, he ended up hugging it. It was comforting. "But that doesn't make sense either. It's impossible to know if an android is unregistered or not just by looking at them. How would they single them out?"
"I'm not sure," Hank said, shaking his head. "We can look into it tomorrow, there's gotta be something cluing them in. If that's the qualifier, of course."
"But if there is-"
"Connor," he interrupted. "Tomorrow. We've had a long day." He patted the couch next to him as though trying to entice Connor up. "Come on, pick out a movie already."
Connor complied. He had put the Lieutenant through enough today, he reasoned. He climbed up next to Hank and tucked himself into the man's side. He draped an arm around him and Sumo joined them promptly, effectively sandwiching Connor between man and dog.
It was perfect.
Hank laughed when he suggested they watch Finding Nemo, but didn't complain. He began carding his fingers through his damp hair and Connor relaxed into the touch. He felt safe. He felt wanted.
He felt loved.
Connor was asleep before the movie was even half over.
