Connor trudges through the rain with a resilience that has accompanied him since his creation. The rain never bothered him. He could feel not temperature changes or discomfort from the heavy shower. His clothes were sticking to his skin, soaked to the brim from the rainfall, and Connor finds himself not minding that too much either. Usually, he was more concerned about his appearance but today he felt a bit rebellious. Today, he just wanted to do things that he was never able to do as a Cyberlife agent, and one of those things was wandering aimlessly in the rain.

It felt good to not be under the bounds of an objective.

Then Connor hears a cry.

It's small. His audio processor picks it up with ease and he stops wandering around in the streets. For a moment he stands still until he is certain on which direction he should take to locate the source of the cry. He turns sharply to his left where he sees a fenced off park. The only entrance was actually a few feet away but Connor decides to jump the cute little black metal fence instead. The cries were closer to the fence than they were to the entrance anyway.

Connor finds what he's looking for.

What he finds is a soggy cardboard box filled with kittens soaked to the bone.

The sight is truly heart-wrenching. Connor can't stand seeing them shiver and struggle to mewl. His first instinct is to gather them all into his arms and make a run for it to Hank's house. The only thing that prevents him from doing so is the cons that present themselves. Hank would not be happy to find a bunch of wet, soaked, kittens in his living room. He'd probably hate the noise that came with them too. Besides that, Connor didn't have what anything a kitten required.

Connor decides to consider other options, even entertaining the idea of taking a bus to Markus' place, but it would be rude to dump a bunch of kittens on him. Then again, Markus had a weak spot for charity cases… but… it still wouldn't be right. They weren't nearly that close for Connor to even consider dropping by.

Connor sighs.

So he does what he thinks is right. He hovers over the box, shielding the kittens from the rain until he can come to a decision. He could take the kittens home, all he would have to do is hide them, and he felt that the best place would be Hank's backyard. Hank didn't go out to his backyard often. Connor would just have to hope that Hank would change his mind anytime soon.

Connor tries to lift the box but it proves to be difficult when he accidentally pulls apart one of its flaps. Connor frowns when he understands that the box isn't very stable. Instead of doing as originally intended, he reaches down to scoop the four kittens mewling in the box and huddles them close to his chest. He heads home running as fast as he can, careful not to jostle the kittens too much to the point of making them uncomfortable.

Now here was the hard part.

Hank.

The man should be asleep. It's late in the night and he was last snoozing when Connor had left to waltz around in the rain. Hopefully, he wouldn't investigate the backyard. It was likely that the rain would deter him from doing so. Connor mainly worried about waking Hank when he went into the garage for the old doghouse shoved in the corner because that's what he planned to do. Get the doghouse that he spotted a few weeks past and then drag it to the backyard to make a shelter for his new animal friends.

Connor opens the front door as slow as he possibly can so that it will make no noise.

His efforts were worthless.

Hank was already waiting for him at the kitchen table.

Hank was downing a bottle of alcohol before he settles it on the table with a loud clack. He wipes his mouth with his sleeve and then looks at Connor dripping wet at his front door. Already, a puddle was forming where he stood, and Hank says, "Aren't you going to come inside?"

Connor takes a cautious step in.

"You've been out all night," Hank begins, tilting the empty bottle in front of him with a finger, "I assumed the worst."

"I was taking a walk."

Hank raises a brow.

"In the rain?"

"Yes," Connor affirms, "although I'm more concerned about why you aren't in bed."

"Couldn't sleep," Hank replies smoothly.

"I see…" Connor is skeptical about Hank's answer but he doesn't have time to play the skeptic. Right now he just needs to somehow navigate around Hank… get the doghouse… and put it in the backyard.

Who was he kidding? Doing all of that was impossible. Maybe he could just put it in his room?

Except, he doesn't have a room, and the only other room in this house aside from Hank's was Cole's old room. It was untouched and something Connor didn't want to intrude upon out of respect. There was no other place he could keep the kittens though… not without arousing suspicion. Connor didn't even dare consider putting them in the garage because there was no breathing room in there. The lack of oxygen was problematic.

"Are you injured?" Hank asks, his eyes trained on the way Connor huddles his arms to his chest. To him, it may have looked like he was concealing a wound but Connor knew the truth.

"Uh - no," Connor says quickly, "No it's just… I… uh…?"

This may be the first time he was not able to come up with a good excuse for the reason he was in such a position. He could have said he had a stomach ache or that he was in pain but both of those things weren't things that androids suffered.

Hank catches on quickly.

He stands up.

"If you're lying about being injured to me…" Hank looks weary at the implication.

"I'm not injured," Connor assures, "I just… well…"

"Well, what?"

Connor shuffles on his feet.

A mewl answers for him.

He freezes.

"What was that?"

"Nothing, lieutenant," Connor begins but Hank is already across the room. The man grabs Connor's arm and Connor hesitates.

"Show me."

Connor presses his lips together into a thin line.

"Connor," Hank warns.

Connor reluctantly lifts one of his arms and allows Hank to see the sight of four kittens cuddled to his chest. They mewl louder now that his arm isn't concealing or muffling their noises.

"Connor…" Hank lets go of his arm and grabs the bridge of his nose with two fingers, "Tell me you just didn't bring four kittens into my house."

"I couldn't just leave them out in the rain," Connor defends, "they would have died!"

"What're you going to do with them, huh? Keep them?"

"No," Connor is quick to answer, "I wasn't. I was just going to nurse them back to health. Take care of them until I found them a home."

Hank's face twists with frustration and Connor half expects for the lieutenant to begin yelling at him. He is pleasantly surprised with the lieutenant does the opposite. Instead, he releases a shaky breath and lowers his hand from his face.

"You're taking care of them."

Connor lights up instantly.

Connor's reaction alone makes Hank's shoulders slump forward in defeat.

"Just - don't let them piss all over my house!"

"I won't lieutenant," Connor swears but he can't stop himself from feeling absolutely giddy. His plans for leaving them in the backyard morph quickly to accommodate the interior of Hank's home.

"And don't call me lieutenant," Hank demands, "I'm tired of hearing that."

Connor positively beams.

"Of course, Hank."