Okay so we've got some Hank in this one. Considering the fact that I turned the friend who recommended Detroit to me into a tutor for how to win Hank over, I am incredibly worried about portraying him.

And just saying this now: while I support Connor and Hank having a good relationship, I'm the kind of person on the fence about what to call it. The 1st chapter had Connor mention being concerned about triggering PTSD. And that's what I lean toward most of the time; Connor doesn't know what a family is like, but would be open to learning. Hank, meanwhile, might never recover from losing his real son or at least he told himself that so many times he started believing it.

I just had to get that off my chest. I understand I'm not the majority! But whether it's a father/son thing or bros being bros, I'm glad it exists.

Odds And Ends Of Humanity

Chapter 2

For certain reasons, an android had no reason to spend time in the bathroom. But Hank's bathroom mirror was the only one in the house that didn't cut his head out of the image. And Connor wouldn't say that he was going over the top, but he definitely wasn't trying to tear himself away from his reflection.

Did he look more like a mannequin than android?

Should he try to smile, or let it happen naturally?

Every time he practiced smiling, an actual piece of him died. He hoped smaller, replaceable pieces.

Oh but if he didn't smile, he might look too harsh.

It's bad enough that dark haired people are stereotyped as being serious.

That was it. He looked too serious.

But he thought the shade of his hair wasn't too drab.

Maybe the issue was the style.

He experimented with mussing his hair, not "just rolled out of bed" but more "male celebrity in 2000"-

"Connor!" Hank's voice burst from behind the door. Without a polite knock or warning, he opened the door in a flourish. "The fuck could you possibly-"

Synthetic eyes met organic.

Connor should have been able to think fast enough to remove his hands from his ruffled hair. He tensed as Hank's once-drowsy expression sobered up. Any light in his eyes vanished, but Connor personally thought that was a little much.

"If you could, um... Step out for a minute..." Hank's eyes never left his head as he and Connor made an awkward exchange of placement. Even when Connor finally thought to drop his hands outside, Hank gave him the most judgmental stare as the door creaked to an agonizingly slow close.

Connor wouldn't understand what the problem was, until he caught his reflection in some of the unused appliances in the kitchen Hank always insisted he would test cooking up a balanced meal with tomorrow. That was how he wound up slumped in a chair at the table, burning face in his palms. A state he remained in until Hank joined him a brief period of time later, seating himself next to him with a glass of water and pain pills he must have originally intended to find.

"I'll probably put my foot in my mouth at some point, so let's get it over with." Hank said casually, when Connor peeled back a few fingers to meet his gaze. "The new look – does it have anything to do with another copy of you running around, or is it self expression?"

"Well, I was going to leave you a note when I left-" Connor straightened his posture, hurriedly smoothing his hair back down as Hank distractedly looked back at it. "Markus convinced Kara to have a talk this afternoon, so I wanted to show her I'm not... Threatening? I don't know if that's the word for it, but it's all I have."

Hank was about to take pills, he stopped short as a thoughtful look crossed over his face. "Kara was...?"

"She was the deviant who nearly got killed in traffic while trying to keep a little girl safe."

Hank let the words sink in while he took the pills. From what Connor understood, general pain was a flu symptom. And headaches. Looking at Hank, it would have been more difficult to believe his headache wasn't just worsened by the topic considering he downed half a glass of water like it was alcohol.

There was a moment of tension as Hank leaned to his side of the table, found his gaze and stared at him seriously.

"Connor, there's something very important to take away from all of this: CyberLife was shit at many things, but their idea of what looks normal was the worst." Hank reached out to give his shoulder a supportive pat. Let that be-

"I don't know if I want to be normal." Connor said as sincerely as he felt, regardless of Hank's much more stony expression looking back at him.

"Maybe not normal, then..." Hank cleared his throat and leaned back in his chair, thoughtfully looking around. "Try subtle changes. It's like- Like if I wanted to reinvent myself, I wouldn't throw money at a five star review surgeon and ask for some other guy's face."

"Changing my hair doesn't seem as extreme as changing my entire face."

"It's on the same level to me."

Connor couldn't help but stare. So Hank took this opportunity to massage the lingering headache from his temples and explain himself. If he didn't, he would have to suffer breaking down every word at the end of the day when pain and/or congestion plagued him again.

"Your appearance won't matter because it never did." Hank explained. "Your eyes might always be soft like a scolded puppy, and you can't stop being neat and tidy to save your life. But there's a line where CyberLife fucks up pretending every android was made unique model be damned, and those androids actually being unique independently."

"So if there's a dividing line, where would I be?"

"Well this is just my opinion; trash it if you want. But... You lean to being unique on your own." Hank cleared his throat again, this time with a softer look in his eyes. "Explore your true self, and all that. Just don't think you have to make very obvious changes before you know what you want."

As Hank rushed to stand like the kitchen just exploded in flames, he began to cough genuinely. Like when he was first – reluctantly – escorted to the doctor to confirm his sickness, and it sounded so dry and painful. Connor reacted as fast as he could, handing him that glass of water.

The rest of the water was drained entirely, all the while Connor watched intensely ready to do the Heimlich maneuver at any point. It didn't reach that level, thankfully, and within a moment or so Hank recovered and was just grumbling to himself as per usual.

LED still swirling maniacally, shoulders incredibly tense and feet ready to spring into action at a moment's notice to move behind him and battle this mystery throat obstruction... Fine, Connor could admit he was so much more late to let the moment pass. Hank definitely noticed, giving him an odd look.

"Now don't worry about me." A statement Hank uttered many a time in the last few days, as if one more would end his hovering.

Connor still stared at him, LED never having turned yellow but definitely not still.

"Connor, I'm fine. Just got strangled on an emotion back there." Hank flashed him a small smile, but that quickly faltered as self-consciousness dawned on him. "You get it, don't you? That point?"

Connor had to take a moment to process the words. Or think about it. While he did so, Hank didn't waste time staying around and made a stunningly quick glide out of the kitchen. Connor let him gain some distance, waiting to hear the noise of a door close before he followed.

Dodging sentimental conversations like thrown knives. That was just Hank.

It didn't take long to reach Hank's bedroom, either. At least this time Connor had a sign Hank would rather not deal with him at the moment, so he didn't barge in. What he did, however, was rap his knuckle on the door just to alert him to his presence because there was no chance he passed out before settling into bed to block out the world. Or heal himself. Whatever came first.

"Your point was that I don't have to change myself to show Kara I can be trusted." Connor wanted to word it like a question so much so he heard confusion in his tone. Maybe Hank didn't, though.

"Don't change yourself just to fit in with anyone, whether they're human or android." Came a prompt response from behind the door. Hank's tone much more affirmative.

"But when Kara looks at me for the first time, she-"

"Yeah, she's probably going to be stressed about it. But she doesn't know she's one of four androids you spared, and if a certain someone told her gently enough to lower that stress..."

Connor pressed his back between the wall and door, letting his head connect said wall just to trigger something. What, he wasn't entirely sure. A prompt to flash up and motivate him to win Kara's trust. He had Markus', despite coming close to shooting him. And when Markus looked him directly in the eyes, he believed he was willing to let that be the past. What did Connor even know about Kara aside from her obvious determined and protective nature? Wasn't her model already intended to simulate protection to human children?

"Hank?"

There was a muffled sound on the other side, followed by footsteps again. He really should have gone back to bed, shouldn't he?

"I have this terrible feeling; my chest is tightening. But if you think I have a chance to get through to her as I am, it's manageable. You can be inspiring when you try, have you noticed that?"

The groan from the other side had no volume control, like you're going to make me choke again.

Connor realized Hank could have gone his whole life never hearing those words, and though he couldn't see his face he definitely wasn't picking up a stormy mood in there. He wondered if Hank smiled again; he really needed to do more of that, because he was certainly capable of being in a good mood once in a while. Or maybe he should have scanned those pills.

Before either of them could say anything more, there was suddenly knocking at the door. That made Connor jump slightly, never mind Sumo's immediate reaction to gently let the household know of a visitor by extremely limited breaks between barks.

"Ah, must be someone who's never been here before." Hank said with the most sincere tone. "You've got this."

Connor looked over his shoulder, not wanting to be paranoid and think Markus was already inside and giving him an extremely understanding and downright glowing smile... But a part of him wished there was more time. He had been so preoccupied with his appearance that he didn't mentally practice a greeting for Kara. Regardless of the way he looked, if he showed up silent Markus would have to take the lead. If Markus spoke for everyone, well, they would effectively destroy the concept of opposing opinions... But more importantly: Kara needed to know how he felt. By his own voice. Out loud.

Somehow the thirium rushing in his ears was louder than Sumo's barking. Connor said a goodbye to Hank as loud as he could over the noise, and made his descent. He was fairly certain this was not some kind of descent into madness or otherwise unpleasant situation, too bad the tightness in his chest wouldn't stop reminding him of its existence. Just anxiety, he told himself. A quick search would reveal that humans wouldn't be human if anxiety didn't make a wreak of them now and then.

You've got this popped up in his view, not a task but rather something his mind apparently thought important enough to store. Describing it that way was lot easier for him than the more accurate: he wanted to see it front and center like a simple fact.

TBC