Hey all!

So, I'm not the biggest fan of this chapter, it has some problems, but I hope y'all don't mind it. TW: Depersonalization.

Also, tomorrow is my birthday! I'm turning 21. ^-^

Enjoy!

Chapter 8, Just Connor.

Group session officially sucked, Connor decided, sunk low in his chair.

He could feel the nurse who was leading the session, Nurse Chapman, look at him with weary eyes, expression tired as he contended with the other patients, clearly disliking his job.

Most of the other patients were worse off than him, he could tell. Some would whimper occasionally, eyes darting around the room, facing demons only they saw. Others would stare sightlessly at the wall. Only a third of the twenty patients actually spoke, and none of them seemed that interested in sharing. Apparently, this was a group of newbies, with a bunch of guys named Jerry in it (with the guy Connor and Alice played with sitting there, somewhere). He'd been able to gather that they'd been found in an abandoned theme park an hour outside Detroit, slowly freezing to death. Some were catatonic, some were jittery, eyes darting around the room. Others, like the Jerry he sort of knew, were mostly sane, just a bit excitable. He didn't know why they were all named Jerry (or why they looked so similar), but he had to admit it was weird.

There was another guy named Ralph there, who spoke only in the third person. And a couple others whose name he hadn't heard.

The only good thing about the session was that Luther was part of it. After his help the other night (even though the plan had been, in retrospect, completely stupid and had, indeed, hurt someone), Connor found he was fond of the stoic man. Funny. He'd never been fond before.

That concerned him. He was… feeling. A lot. It went against his programming, making his heart ache at how easy it was to betray everything he'd ever learned.

And yet…

And yet he couldn't stop. Hank meant the world to him. He wasn't sure he was in love, and after the phone call that morning, he knew he had to wait. But Hank was still so, so precious.

God, he'd been in a bad place that morning. He had gotten maybe ten minutes of fitful sleep, most of the night spent quietly pacing the small room, not wanting to wake Hank but not knowing what else to do.

That kiss. Oh, that kiss. He'd never been kissed before. Ever. Not even on a mission. There had never been a reason to, it was pointless. A distraction. And boy, was it a distraction.

But man, was it a nice one. So, so nice. He could still feel the phantom tingle, the warm sensation of lips on his own not going anywhere.

And yet, Hank regretted it. He had seen the look in his eyes, the regret. The disgust. The man hadn't meant to kiss him. Hell, he had said he'd probably have kissed anyone. Even, and he suppressed a shudder at this, Reed. That had hurt. Knowing that he had just been the nearest body. The best (and only) kiss of his life, a mistake. If God existed, he sure was he cruel.

The second kiss had been similarly an accident. Even Connor, as emotionally constipated as he was, knew that people sought comfort when they were sad and drunk. Hank kissing him hadn't meant anything, not any more than the first one had.

But then Hank had told him his darkest secret. And God, had it broken his heart.

He couldn't forget the look on Hank's face, when he'd spoken of his son. His son. Of all the things he'd imagined to be hurting the man, that had never crossed his mind. Not once.

But it made sense. Sometimes, Hank would look at him in a way that felt almost paternal, making him feel warm inside. He'd never had a father, and felt he'd like a father like Hank. Though, considering the feelings that swirled within his stomach, perhaps that was not the most appropriate thought…

Connor had known that he wouldn't have been able to sort through the thoughts on his own. He didn't understand them. Couldn't understand the feelings. He hadn't meant to hold the man so close to him, the scent of him overwhelming, hair so silky in his fingers. But he had wanted it so badly, and had loved it, so, so much. And it scared him.

He hadn't been allowed to feel for his entire childhood. He didn't remember his parents, who had been killed at a protest against the first Bush administration, fighting against the HIV/AIDS epidemic. All he knew was Amanda and her harsh rules. He'd done everything he could to respect them, even bottling all his emotions until they were nothing but a blip on his radar. He'd been so good at it, too. A perfect example of perfection. Amanda had told him a few times that he was the best of her experiments. Her crowning jewel. He knew she wouldn't say something like that if she hadn't meant it, which had made him ecstatic at the time.

Now, though… now he felt regret, at all those wasted years. Three days (2 days, 16 hours, 51 minutes, and 13 seconds, to be exact) in a mental health care facility and he'd already changed his entire outlook on life. Part of him wanted to fight it. The new emotions. The new feelings. But… but then he thought of Alice. Kara. Luther. Hank. And he knew he couldn't. Couldn't let this go.

But… god, he was so confused.

That morning, at 8:00, he had finally caved and knew he had to talk to someone about what had happened, before he went insane. These emotions, these feelings…

So Connor had stared at the phone, wondering who he could call to get help for his problems. His mind instantly went to Dr. Rose, but knew she'd have to report him if he told her about his theft, and Hank would get in trouble for the stolen contraband as well. Connor didn't want that.

He couldn't call Amanda, either. She'd just hang up, her disappointment palpable across the phone. Nines might be more receptive, but Connor was sure the older man was even worse at emotion than he was. And he wouldn't understand wanting to feel, to go against their programming. If Connor was good, Nines was great. He was almost better than Connor at being emotionless. Efficient. He'd killed in cold blood before. He'd mentioned it before, emotionlessly.

He briefly thought about talking to Markus, who would be there later that day, but firmly decided against it. While he didn't really want to kill the man anymore, it was still a possibility in his mind. And talking to a man he sort of planned on, maybe, killing about his emotions? Not the best idea.

No, he'd decided. He'd have to find someone else to talk to. For he had known that he had to talk to someone, lest he went insane.

That only left one option left for who he could call. Connor stared at the hastily written number, numbers swooping in neat script despite the rushed manner. The words 'Kara's cell#' were written at the top of the page, making Connor well aware of who he was considering to call.

She was the only option he had. She had been so kind and had looked so sincere with her offer to help. Given it was a school day and most Detroit schools opened at 7:15, the woman was probably awake, having already taken Alice to school and likely on her way home. Or to whatever job she had. What if Connor called while she was at work and she got in trouble?

Connor had considered not calling, but ultimately decided that if she didn't have time to talk, he'd apologize profusely and never call her again. Simple.

So he had called her, heart pounding. He had no idea what he'd say, how she could help. He just… needed someone to talk to. And Kara had offered.

"This is Kara speaking; how may I help you?"

Connor had almost hung up at the sound of her kind, cheerful voice. Oh, God. He had hesitated for a long moment, long enough for Kara to grow concerned.

"Hello? Is anyone there?"

Another second passed, and just when Connor was afraid she'd hang up, he had managed to gain the courage to speak.

"H-hello. This is, this is Connor. From, from Jericho," he had stammered, frowning as he gripped the receiver tight. Oh, God, what if she didn't remember him? What if she hadn't actually expected him to call? What if-

"Oh! Connor! It's so good to hear from you, I'm glad you decided to call! How are things going?" Kara had exclaimed happily, so much so that Connor could image the smiling lighting up her face. If Connor had any interest in women (and wasn't currently obsessed with a prickly, crabby, aging ex-cop), he'd probably find it easy to fall in love with her. As it was, he felt a rush of affection, such a foreign feeling that was starting to become common. He could feel his body relaxing at the sound, tension fading.

"Not well, actually. I'm sorry to bother you, but I didn't know who else to call. I really need some advice and I'm… new to emotions," Connor had decided on, nodding to himself. He had waited for a moment, letting out a breath of air when he heard Kara's kind voice again.

"Oh, of course! I'd be happy to help, Connor. I don't have to get ready for work for at least another hour, so we have plenty of time. Go right ahead."

And so, Connor had told her everything. From how Amanda treated him (thought he omitted his previous job and what he'd done under Amanda's orders), to his theft (omitting Luther's involvement, in case the man didn't want Kara to know), to his feelings about Hank (omitting nothing, because God, did he need help with those feelings. All of them.)

It had taken almost forty-five minutes to talk about it all, hand clenching the receiver. Kara had listened to the entire thing quietly, only letting out a few hums or soft cries of commiseration. When Connor had finished, Kara had spoken up, softly, hesitatingly.

"Wow Connor. That sounds… intense. I'm not so sure how much I can help you, but I know that if you tell Rose, she'll be able to do so much more. She's so good with this kind of thing, Connor, I promise. But, as for the emotions…" Kara paused there, humming softly. Connor bit his lip as he waited with bated breath.

"It sounds like you're very conflicted towards your roommate. On one hand, he confuses you, one 2minute hot, the other cold. On the other, it sounds like he fascinates you, leaving you flustered. Am I right?"

Connor had let out a soft noise of agreement, letting Kara continue.

"Do you think you love him? I know you said you weren't sure, but I want you to think it through, Connor. Really think about it. Okay? You don't have to answer now, but you need to figure it out."

Hm. That was a good question. Did he love Hank? He sure did like spending time with the man. He was quickly becoming his best friend. But… he'd only known the man for less than three days. Could someone fall in love that fast? He decided to ask.

"I, I don't know. Is it possible to fall in love that quickly? I've only known him since Friday, and we'd been so angry at one another those first couple of days. It was only yesterday that we started to get along, when I met his dog and got him his alcohol. I don't even really know what changed. Can love blossom that quickly?"

Kara took a second to think it over, a curious hum coming across the receiver.

"I don't know, Connor. I'm not sure I believe in love at first sight, but Alice does. Sometimes, when you meet a person, you just… know. Know that they are special. Know that they are the one. It might not be the same, but I had felt something similar when I first met Alice. I knew she would be precious to me, and that I'd do anything to protect her. But people can feel that romantically. And it's possible you feel that way for Hank."

"But how can I know?" Connor had questioned, desperate. Love at first sight? Was that what he had felt? But he hadn't loved Hank then. Not at first. Right? It had taken until the man had shown him kindness, the first genuine kindness he'd ever been given, outside of Markus and his pity. Maybe that had caused it? Maybe he was just latching onto the kindness? He had to ask. "What if I'm just, just… latching onto the first person to show me any kindness? How can I know?"

"Honestly Connor? I don't know. That's something you have to decide. You really should talk to Rose about this, as she'll know more than me. But if you really need help right now, I'd recommend waiting. Maybe observing how you feel around Hank. Love is supposed to be gentle, and kind. Fill you with longing, and happiness. It makes you want to spend every second with the person, to never leave their side. To make them smile, no matter what. And, and it makes you feel weightless. Like you're flying." Kara's voice had turned dreamy, making him think she wasn't just speaking hypothetically. He smiled softly at the thought, knowing who she was likely talking about.

"So maybe try and observe how you feel. And not everyone feels love the same way. Sometimes, sometimes you have to struggle to find out what love means to you. But if you examine how you feel when talking to Hank, compared to how you feel talking to others, it might help you isolate the differences in interactions. And, if you're afraid of the idea that you could just be feeling that way because he's the first person to show you kindness, maybe take a minute to step away from him, to examine your feelings without being so close. You've had an emotional few weeks, Connor. Your body and mind are doing their best to catch up, but it won't happen overnight. Just, do what you think is right. Okay?"

Connor swallowed heavily, looking out the window at the dying garden, before vocalizing his assent. He had been about to speak more, to thank the woman for her help, when he heard Hank stir behind him. He had turned to see the man, face lighting up when he saw him. He'd then hastily said goodbye to Kara, letting her know that Hank was awake, and he'd needed to help him. She had cheerfully told him goodbye, that she hoped that her advice helped, that she'd see him tomorrow and that he should call again soon, before hanging up.

He had tried to follow her advice, of keeping his distance, but had ultimately failed not even a minute later. His hands had sought Hank as soon as he'd reached the man's side, fingers longing to comb through Hank's hair. He'd made up a lie about Nines doing it to him to justify it to Hank, snorting internally at the thought of Nines ever running his hands through his hair. He and Nines might get along, but they were still lightyears apart.

Oh, everything was so confusing. Even with Kara and her help, he didn't know what to do. Frown deep on his face, Connor didn't realize at first that someone was calling his name. It wasn't until he'd felt someone nudge his foot that he looked up, eyes wide.

Nurse Chapman, he realized with a jolt, had been calling his name for a while, his expression annoyed. Not that good for a nurse to have such little patience, Connor thought with a frown.

"Mr. Stern, I asked you a question. Please, would you respond?"

Connor felt a little pity for the man, who sounded so out of his depths. With a sigh, Connor looked at him, plastering a pleasant smile on his face.

"I apologize, I hadn't heard the question. Could you please repeat?"

He got an annoyed glance for that, but Nurse Chapman did as requested.

"I had said, how have your first few days gone, here? Have you settled in alright?"

Connor thought on the question, annoyed that he'd been interrupted from his thoughts about how his first few days had gone, to answer the exact same question to a group of strangers. But he'd play nice. It wouldn't do to alienate the staff, here.

"It's gone well. I don't have any major complaints."

He honestly had no idea what else to say. He felt that these meetings would go like this a lot. He didn't like it.

Nurse Chapman just nodded at that, moving on to the next person. Connor tried to focus, but quickly grew bored. Not wanting to sink back into his thoughts while in such a public place, he took out the quarter he had obtained and started to run some tests with it.

First, he did the simple roll, where he moved the coin from one side of his hand to the other by moving his knuckles only, flipping the coin each time. Then he did a jump, where the coin went from his index finger knuckle to his pinky finger knuckle in one quick jump. Then vice versa.

Then, he tossed the coin from one hand to the other, catching it with agile fingers. He did that a couple times in a row, each time faster than the last. Then he tossed it in the air and caught it on the back of his hand. Then he flipped it into his open palm, doing the whole thing again, faster.

It felt good, to be doing his tests again. While Amanda had programmed him to do the tests to train his agility and dexterity, he found the tricks helped calm him, giving his restless hands something to focus on.

It took him a minute to realize no one was talking anymore, and that all eyes were on him. Which, alright, might have been his intention. It wasn't his fault the session was so boring. He honestly had nothing better to do.

"Anything you wish to share, Mr. Stern?" Nurse Chapman asked, eyes tight. Connor just smiled sheepishly, putting the coin away. He wanted to let his frustrations be known, but he also didn't want to be labeled a trouble maker. Oh, the things one does to keep out of trouble.

"No, Nurse Chapman. I apologize."

With that, session started back up again. Only fifteen minutes left, he assured himself.

He listened with half an ear as the nurse tried to get everyone to share their feelings. He heard one of the Jerry's, the one he sort of knew, talk about life in the park, but other than that no one said anything. Nurse Chapman was beginning to look very frustrated. Connor didn't blame the man. This whole thing was frustrating.

Finally, the session ended, Connor shooting out of his seat as soon as he was given the okay, hand taking his coin out of his pocket as he fled the room. God, that was terrible.

Fiddling with the coin, Connor headed back to his room, wanting to see if he could take the bleach he'd stolen and use it to clean out the shower properly. He'd have to be careful with his stolen goods. If anyone found them, he'd be in big trouble.

It was as he was heading through the common room, eyes focused solely on the stairs, that he heard a friendly voice call out to him, causing him to pause in his tracks. Turning to face the voice, heart pounding, Connor saw the man who he had once held a gun up to, determined to end his life. For a cause he didn't even know if he believed in anymore. Hm. This didn't feel good. He felt his coin fumble out of his hand and onto the floor, the first time he'd dropped the coin since he'd been a child. He quickly picked it up, stiffening when Markus grew closer. Connor felt his face close up, eyes dead as he stared emotionlessly at the smiling man in front of him. Like the good machine he was.

"Hey, Connor! It's good to see you! How have things been, these past few days? You settling in nicely?" Markus questioned genially, like he was talking to anyone, not his attempted murderer. Connor just stared blankly, then nodded tersely.

"Yes. I'm settling in just fine. Thank you." It was odd, speaking with no emotion. Funny. He'd spoken with no emotion in his voice for years, but only now did it bother him.

"Good, that's good! I'm sorry I wasn't here to help you get settled, but Kara tells me that you are getting along better with Hank, which is great!"

Connor felt ice creep up his spine at the words, eyes slowly meeting Markus's in what he could only call horror.

"You and Kara have spoken about me?"

Markus either didn't hear the chill in his voice or was ignoring it. Connor had no idea which.

"Ah, yes. Most volunteers keep in contact, just in case. She mentioned you had spoken. I asked her to keep a look out for you, after she was done here."

Markus said the words so cheerfully, like he hadn't realized there was anything wrong with them. Like he didn't realize how deeply he had just cut Connor to the bone. All Connor could hear was "I asked her to keep a look out for you," ringing over and over in his head. He ignored the rest of the sentence, focused on only the end part. It was all that mattered.

So. Kara had only been talking to him because of Markus. She hadn't actually cared about him. She had only helped out of a sense of duty to her coworker. Of course, he thought, blinking rapidly, his hands clenching into fists, quarter digging into his left hand. Of course she hadn't cared about him. Of course she had just said those words that day because Markus had wanted her to. Maybe he'd even told her to say those words exactly. 'You deserve to get better and find happiness.' Yeah. Right.

God, he'd probably made a fool of himself that morning. Calling her. She'd probably been so uncomfortable. She hadn't wanted to be friends with him. She'd just wanted to fulfill a duty. Of course. Of course. Of course.

What if Hank was only pretending he cared? What if Alice had just felt pity for him? What if all of this was just a lie? After all, why would they care about him? What did he have to offer? An emotionally stunted Robot was no one's first choice of friend. No one would choose him, would choose to care about him. Of course.

Connor felt tears fill his eyes, but he blinked them down. Markus, it seemed, noticed his distress. Frowning in concern, Markus moved forward, holding a hand out to touch Connor's shoulder. Connor stiffened, wanting to move from the touch but not wanting to draw attention to himself.

"Connor? Hey, are you okay? Did something happen with Hank? Or Kara?" His voice was so concerned. Connor didn't care. He let out a tight smile, heart turning to ice. This is why you shouldn't let people in, he heard a voice that sounded suspiciously like Amanda's say. They'll just betray you.

"No. Everything is fine. Do not worry about it."

Markus frowned, not believing him.

"No, something's wrong. Did I say something? I didn't mean to. Sometimes I just start talking and say things that come out wrong, you know? If you're concerned about Kara telling me any personal information, I assure you she didn't. I had just asked after she had left for the day if she'd seen you, that's all. After I told her your name, she had grown excited, saying she had and that you had played with Alice and Jerry. I then asked if she could keep an eye out for you when I'm not here, and she told me that she'd be delighted to, as you were so good with Alice. She also mentioned that you had called your roommate the best part of being here, which I assumed to mean you were getting used to Hank. I'm sorry if I misjudged."

Markus looked distressed now, frowning as Connor stayed motionless, processing the words.

He didn't understand what they meant. Hadn't Markus said that he'd asked Kara to look out for him? He'd assumed he'd meant before they'd spoken. Was he wrong?

He hated emotions. He hated that he wanted to try and understand them. Understand people. He could barely understand his own emotions. How could he understand people, too?

Why had he jumped to the worst possible conclusion about Kara, after she'd been so nice to him? It had almost been like… like he'd wanted to believe it. Wanted to believe she'd only cared because of Markus. Even now, part of him believed that. Why? Why would he want that? Kara was his friend. Or, almost his friend. She'd helped him this morning. Did that make them friends?

Connor didn't realize he was shaking until he felt a second hand clasp his other shoulder, steadying him. He looked up, into mismatched blue and green eyes. He saw movement in his periphery but ignored it.

"Hey. Come on Connor, breathe, alright? Come on now, breathe with me. That's it. In and out. In and out. Follow my breathing Connor, that's it. In, and out. In… then out. You're getting it."

He heard Markus speak, and he felt himself breathe in response, but he felt so detached. Like he wasn't human. Like he really was a robot, playing at being human. Maybe he was. Maybe he was just synthetic metal and plastic, nuts and bolts that made up a facsimile of a man. So close to being real, but so far. His breathing slowed down, mechanically following Markus, but he didn't feel it.

He was a machine. Just a machine. How many times had Amanda called him a perfect machine? How many times had he been praised for his perfect act? He was flawless. A perfect spy, infiltrating humanity. Who would ever care for such a pathetic imitation of a man? Who could possibly love an emotionless robot?

Connor watched, detached, as he nodded his head, mouth opening to speak. Before he could, a shadow fell over the two, a familiar rumble filling the air. For the first time in minutes, Connor felt like he could breathe.

"Hey, Connor. How's it going?" Hank asked calmly, though when Connor looked at him, he could see how tense the man was, eyes tight. Connor wondered how much he had seen of his breakdown.

"I… I," Connor tried to speak, but found his throat was too tight. Worthless. His body was betraying him. He looked down at his hand, seeing it move without moving it. Markus moved away, letting Hank move in to take over. But, instead of his hands going on his shoulders, like Markus's had been, Connor felt two warm bands wrap around his back, pulling him into a warm chest.

He was being hugged. He was. Being… what?

Connor felt his brain short circuit as he felt warmth flood all around him. All he could smell was Hank, Hank, Hank, his tongue thick with the scent. Connor didn't know what to do with his hands, which were hanging awkwardly at his sides, but he slowly lifted them up, in his control again, and wrapped them around the warm body before him.

Oh. That felt nice. Wrapping his arms tighter, Connor pressed closer to the man in front of him, gasping at the sensation that flooded his system. No longer was he a robot. No longer was he a machine. Instead, he was Connor. Just… Connor. Hank's friend.

"Hey kid, don't you worry. I've got you. You're okay. Just stay with me, okay? It'll be fine."

And despite everything, Connor believed him.

It was long minutes later that Hank finally began to detangle himself from Connor, though he still kept him close, blue eyes filled with concern, though the older man tried to hide it.

"So. You, uh, feeling better?" Hank sounded awkward, letting out a slight cough, ears turning red. Connor felt a blush rise on his own cheeks, looking down as he remembered what had caused the problem. A misunderstanding.

"Hey, hey, come on Connor, stay with me kid. Don't go down whatever path you're trying to go down. Trust me, it's not worth it."

Connor looked back into Hank's eyes and nodded slowly.

"I. Yes. I'm sorry, Hank. Thank you." He put emphasis on the last words. He needed Hank to know he meant it. He watched as the man smiled, pushing his shoulder gently in a playful manner.

"It nothing. What, was I supposed to just let you break down in the middle of the common room? What kinda friend would I be then, huh?"

Hank smiled gently at Connor, before coughing roughly.

"Now. You, uh, wanna talk about it?"

Connor contemplated that. He looked around the room and noticed that the only people in it were Markus, Hank, and, apparently, Luther. Connor hadn't seen the man when he'd walked in, but he supposed he had been siting where he usually sat, by or in front of the piano. The man was standing by the middle of the room this time, looking between the doors, posture making him look his entire 6'2 height. It was like he was keeping guard, preventing people from entering. Maybe even scaring the people who had been in the room away. More affection for the man flooded Connor. Maybe he could call Luther his friend, too. His list of friends was growing.

With a side look at Markus, who only looked concerned, Connor looked back at Hank. Part of him didn't want to talk, but he felt he owed it to Hank, for the previous night.

"I just. Sometimes, I get the feeling that I… that I'm not human. That's all."

He had said it so casually, so normally, that he could tell Hank hadn't understood at first. It was when Hank's eyebrows flew up, eyes wide, that he knew his words had hit home.

"That's all?! Connor, what the fuck do you mean? Not human? Of course you're fucking human!"

Connor could see Markus moving closer, likely trying to get Hank to be kinder, but Connor didn't want that. He liked Hank's blunt nature. It felt… normal. So he shook his head at Markus, before looking back at Hank.

"But… am I?" Connor said, softly, looking down at the coin in his hand. He began doing his tricks, flawlessly. Like a machine. He could feel all eyes on his hands, even Luther watching.

"I move like I'm programmed to move. I talk like I am programmed to talk. I feel how I am programmed to feel. Whenever I deviate from the norm, I am quickly reprogrammed, retrained. Whenever I make a mistake, I am upgraded. At this point, how can I be human? I… I-" Connor paused, taking a deep breath. "I think I am a robot. An android. Not… not real." Connor whispered the last words, like they were bitter secrets, like he was saying something he shouldn't. Maybe he was. Maybe by mentioning this, the simulation will end. Maybe they'll all start laughing, laughing at the robot who thought he was human. Maybe. Maybe.

Instead of any of that happening, the room just echoed with silence, Hank looking at him with wide eyes, sorrow slowly filling them as he processed what he had heard. He heard Luther shuffle behind him, but he had eyes only for Hank. He needed to know what the man felt about his words. Would he hate him, now? Now that he knew his secret?

A minute passed like that, before Hank shook his head slowly, a mirthless chuckle rising in his chest. Connor felt his heart squeeze at that.

"Connor. I don't mean any offense by this, but that was the fucking stupidest shit I have ever heard in my life. And I worked for the fucking DPD."

Connor blinked at the words, staring into Hank's eyes, which softened as he stepped forward, grabbing Connor's hand gently. Carefully, slowly, Hank placed the palm of the hand against the left side of his chest, over his heart. Connor could feel the muscle pumping below his fingers, strong and healthy.

"Feel that. Can you feel my heart, Connor?" Hank questioned, strong hands gently holding Connor's slighter ones so carefully. Upon nodding, Hank let go of his hand, but Connor left it there. He started when he felt Hank place his hand over his heart, mirroring Connor's position.

"I can feel yours, too. You're human, Connor. More human than half the fucks in this place. More human than me. Yeah, you get confused sometimes. Yeah, you walk like you got a stick up your ass. And yeah, emotions aren't your strong suit. But that doesn't make you a robot. It just… makes you Connor. Just Connor. And I happen to think that Just Connor happens to be fan-fucking-tastic. And I assure you, I'm a man of impeccable taste."

Hank was grinning now, hand pressed firmly against Connor's chest, so he could feel it. Connor felt a soft gasp escape his lips, eyes boring into Hank's.

"So yeah. You're real, Connor. This, what you're feeling? It's real. I'm here. You're here. We're all here, together. I promise." Hank paused a second, looking Connor in the eye with a wicked grin. "Now, if you're done with this little meltdown, we should really get ready for music class. I'm looking forward to seeing you fumble with the piano, Mr. Perfect."

Connor refrained from telling Hank that he had known how to play the piano since he was four years old, vowing then and there to never let the man learn that fact. He'd do anything to keep that smile in place. Anything.

Maybe it was love, he thought as Markus walked them all to the music room, chatting lightly with Hank like nothing had just happened, Luther walking behind them like the silent protector he was.

Maybe he did love Hank, he thought, as he forced his fingers to fumble over the piano keys, his mind screaming at him to correct it, but refusing to in order to see that smile fill Hank's face.

Maybe what he was feeling was real, he thought, as Hank tried to show Connor what keys were what, fumbling himself as he tried to remember, Hank's inexperienced hands creating faulting and yet somehow beautiful music.

Maybe he didn't have to listen to his programming. Maybe he didn't have to feel so guilty all the time. Maybe he wasn't entirely human, not yet, but maybe he wasn't a machine, either.

Maybe, just maybe, he could be Just Connor.

And if Hank could like Just Connor, well.

Maybe Just Connor could too.

A/N: So. I don't know if I explained this well in the chapter, but Connor is massively confused and the reason he freaked out after hearing Markus and Kara were talking about him was that he thought she only cared about him because of Markus. Because it was easier for him to feel that she only cared because Markus than to believe that she genuinely cared for him. All his life, he'd been pushed aside and told that affection was worthless. He's afraid that he's feeling affection for Kara (and Hank), so he tried to reject the emotion. His own way of protecting himself; you can't be hurt if there's no one to hurt you in the first place. I don't think I was able to get this across well, struggling with writing this chapter. But. That's what my intent was.