The day after the horrid hit and run accident and being threatened by F.B.I. Agent Richard Perkins in the precinct parking garage, things still felt uncomfortably hostile. Connor paced about his apartment's livingroom with his cybernetic relays anxiously calling out he tried and failed for the sixth time to reach Hank at home. Earlier that morning Hank had called off from work feeling ill, which had resulted in Connor being stuck on desk duty until Hank could return to work. Once Connor had been informed that Hank had remained home, he had attempted to call Hank's cell from the precinct, but the senior detective didn't answer. With each passing hour Connor tried to call him again but there was still no answer from Hank, and the lack of response continued well after Connor's shift had come to an end.

Clocking-out and returning to the apartment Connor informed Lucas of Hank being ill and of his worries. Not wanting to fear the worst Connor had tried to be patient and wait for Hank to answer his calls and texts, but soon his patience wore out and he needed to check on his partner and adoptive father for himself. There was a feeling deep in his gut telling him to go and check on Hank with his own eyes.

"Hank's still not answering, I'm going over there to check on him." Connor decided as he pulled his more casual leather jacket from the hook by the front door. "He had been showing signs of illness for the past twelve days and I fear he has finally succumbed to some kind of serious ailment."

Lucas had returned from New Jericho Tower only twenty minutes earlier with his mind reeling from the abundance of refugee deviants who had finally returned from Canada back into the city to reunite with their friends and to seek shelter. The mass influx of deviants now under his care was a little overwhelming for the young technician, but it also made Lucas feel wanted and like he was truly contributing to the tower.

"Do what you need to do." Not even attempting to dissuade Connor after he made up his mind, Lucas hung his own coat on the now vacant hook and stepped away from the door and toward the couch. "You know Hank better than anyone else."

"Right." Connor gave his little brother a worried stare as his blue L.E.D. flashed to a cautious yellow and his hands began twitch nervously. "I won't be too long."

"Would you like me to come with you?" Lucas sounded very tired and his slumped posture on the couch only emphasized his exhausted demeanor. "I don't mind."

"No. If something is actually wrong, then I'll contact you. You should rest." It was clear to Connor's attentive gaze that Lucas was tired. The way Lucas's posture was slumped, the glassiness of his eyes, and the fact that Lucas essentially collapsed onto the couch were all key indicators of heavy fatigue. "I don't want you to risk overheating from physical exertion during my absence."

"You're certain?"

"Yes." Connor pulled open the door and looked back at his exhausted brother empathetically. "You deserve to rest, Lucas. Don't push yourself too hard. Hank taught me that, and granted it's a difficult lesson to learn but it's also worthwhile."

"Hank is a wise man." Lucas sincerely grinned as he allowed himself to lay back on the couch and close his green eyes to enter rest mode for a few minutes. "Call if you need any help."

Within a few seconds the tired deviant technician had slipped into a peaceful rest mode to regain some of the energy he had lost during his taxing shift.

"I'll be back soon."

Connor whispered instinctively as he pulled the apartment door shut behind himself and locked it protectively. Glancing up at the motion camera secretly installed above the door Connor cybernetically checked to make sure it was still functioning and was satisfied that it was adequately recording as it should.

"I just hope Lucas isn't ill as well."

Rushing down the corridor Connor summoned the elevator and stepped inside the empty elevator car allowing it to take him to the lobby on the ground floor of the apartment complex in just a few seconds. As he exited the elevator, he politely smiled and nodded at the two deviant tenants who were moving into one of the apartments on the second floor before he continued through the front doors of the building and to the sidewalk outside.

Deciding it'd be faster to walk than to wait for an autonomous taxi to arrive Connor set off on foot for Hank's house just six blocks away and hurried up the front walk to the house. Knocking first out of decency, Connor waited for a reply and heard no response from within. Stepping off the porch to look at the driveway beside the house, he noted Hank's car parked where it should be which meant the senior detective must be home.

For Hank to not reply to the knocking on the door only made Connor feel more anxious.

Returning to the front porch Connor pressed the doorbell sounding it off as he waited again, but still received no reply from inside the house. Two loud knocks were met with the same muted response.

"Hank?"

Shouting a little Connor called out to the senior detective and hoped to finally get an answer.

"Are you okay?"

Turning the knob on the door Connor's L.E.D. flashed from yellow to red with worry as he fumbled for the spare keys in his pocket and isolated the key to the front door from the other keys on the ring. As he unlocked the front door and pushed it open Connor was greeted happily by Sumo who stood up on his hind legs and pressed his front paws against Connor's shoulders as he licked the deviant's face affectionately.

"Down, boy."

Connor pushed the large dog's paws from his shoulders and back down onto the floor gently.

"I'm glad to see you too. But I need to check in on Hank first."

Closing the door behind himself Connor looked about the house and found everything to be in its usual place. The livingroom was empty and quiet save for Sumo who was happily panting and wagging his tag at Connor's feet. There was a small mess in the kitchen that seemed a little out of place and intrigued the deviant detective. Examining the contents of the mess, Connor noted several bottles of medication that had been recently purchased and opened along with bottles of various flavored isotonic drinks on the kitchen table and the nearby countertops.

All of the pieces of evidence pointed to someone feeling ill.

"Hank? Can you hear me?"

Connor called out again as he looked around the messy kitchen, noting the massive pile of used tissues falling over the edge of the trashcan tucked under the sink and the used dishes inside the sink itself. It looked like no one had been in the kitchen for almost two days and the dense silence was disconcerting. Someone was in the house, but they weren't keeping the living space particularly clean at the moment.

"Hank, please answer me."

Venturing down the hallway Connor tentatively approached the closed door to Hank's bedroom and pushed it open with one hand. The interior of the bedroom was dark, and the floor was a mess with dirty clothes that had been thrown aside rather than placed inside the hamper to be washed properly. More used tissues had been piled up on the nightstand beside the bed and there were two empty drinking glasses next to the dirty tissues on the nightstand beside Hank's muted phone.

Hank himself was laying in his bed on his back in a deep sleep. His breathing was slow, congested and disturbingly audible. Even from the doorway Connor could see the sickly pale shade over Hank's face as well as the fine sheen of sweat that layered over his skin that was no doubt the result of a fever.

Approaching the bed quietly Connor stood beside Hank and ran a biometric scan over the ill man's body as he lightly placed his palm over Hank's sweaty forehead. The senior detective was indeed running a fever. The sound of Hank's labored breathing was indicative of heavy congestion, the slight trembling in Hank's muscles and the heavy perspiration hinted at dehydration. Hank's heart rate was slightly elevated despite being inactive as was his blood pressure, and the inability to respond or react to someone entering the house resonated more with someone who was unconscious rather than actually asleep.

"Hank?"

Connor addressed the senior detective loudly but calmly as he kept his hand in place over Hank's forehead.

"Hank, please wake up. It's me, Connor."

In an unexpected response Hank let out a deep sigh but remained asleep as his hand weakly reached up and failed to push away Connor's hand from his forehead.

"Hank!" Connor all but shouted the name as he watched Hank's heavy, dark eyelids begin to flutter open. "Wake up."

Blue glassy irises slowly revealed themselves as Hank finally awoke and looked up at Connor with a confused stare.

"...Connor?" Hank's voice was hoarse and raspy. The deep cough that followed caused the senior detective to wrap his arms around his chest as the aching coughing fit racked his body without mercy. "Connor," Hank took a moment to clear his voice. "what're you doing here?" The sick man noticed the dark leather jacket that Connor was wearing and grinned. "...You finally remembered to wear a real jacket when you're not on the clock. Good for you."

"You called off sick." The concerned deviant explained coolly as he finally retracted his hand and sat on the edge of Hank's bed. "I tried to call you on seventeen separate occasions from both the precinct and from my apartment after my shift had ended, but you never answered your phone. I was worried and decided to come by to check on you in person."

"Sorry." Groggily Hank apologized as he tried to push himself into an upright sitting position on the bed with his arms but he failed to do so. "I took a couple of sleeping pills. I guess they worked."

"How many did you take?" Connor asked as he put his hand behind Hank's shoulders to support the sick man as he used his other hand to wedge the pillow up against Hank's back. Wrapping his fingers around Hank's wrist Connor continued to monitor his pulse which had elevated even more once he woke up. "How long ago did you take them?"

"I took two pills." The irritation in Hank's voice was notable as Connor retracted his hand from the ill detective's wrist. "And I took them this morning after I called off. It's just the flu or some shit, it'll pass."

"Precinct record shows that you called off at 07:14am this morning. It's now 6:43pm, which means you've been asleep for eleven hours and twenty-nine minutes. I believe you're suffering from something more serious than the flu - such as bronchitis or pneumonia."

"I'm tired. Sleeping is what you're supposed to do when you're tired, AND when you're sick." Hank let out a weary sigh and put left arm over his mouth to catch another cough as it erupted from his lips. Instinctively Connor's hand pressed down on Hank's shoulder to support him through the coughing fit. "...By the way," pausing for a moment to catch his breath Hank tried to sound more alert and lucid than he actually felt. "you should let Sumo outside for a while. That is if you don't mind helping me out."

"You should allow me to take you to the hospital. A person of your-"

"If you make one comment about my age I'm going to punch your perfect teeth right out of your mouth."

"...Your symptoms," Connor quickly stated to correct his original thought before he continued. "should seek immediate medical attention."

"Good save, but no way. I hate hospitals."

"I'm aware of this, but you're running a high fever of one-hundred and two point two degrees, and you are beginning to suffer from dehydration."

"That's why I bought the sports drinks when I bought the medicine last night."

"Last night?" Connor's yellow L.E.D. blinked at a more rapid clip before falling into a steadier cycle. "When did you begin to feel ill?"

"I dunno'. A little after I got home, I guess."

"What were your first symptoms?"

"Jeez, I thought you weren't programmed as a medical android."

"I'm not." With an impatient snap Connor slightly grimace as he realized how admission sounded. "But I am programmed with numerous biological sensors that allow me to detect various discrepancies in human bodies and overall vital signs that are a part of my original analysis program."

"...Meaning what, exactly?"

"I can give an accurate possible diagnosis of your condition, but I cannot treat you beyond basic over the counter remedies."

"Oh, well-" Hank suddenly let out another deep cough that was accompanied by a very distinct rattling sound that alarmed Connor upon hearing it. Lightly Connor removed the pillow from behind Hank's back as he helped the senior detective to lay down once again. Managing to get out a single word between his coughs Hank sounded truly weak and sick. "...Th-Thanks."

Replacing the pillow beneath Hank's head Connor pressed his hand back down over the sick detective's forehead and noted that Hank's fever had risen in the few minutes that the detective had been awake and alert.

"Hank, please." Connor put his other hand on Hank's chest to try to hold the detective as steady as possible until the coughing fit passed. "Your fever is now at one-hundred and two point six. You need help."

"I got help." Hank all but wheezed as he finally caught his breath. "You."

"I just-"

"I know you're not a doctor or medic of any kind," the sick detective paused for a moment to take a deep calming breath before he continued. "but I trust you. I don't trust doctors. Hospitals... They're unsettling."

"...Very well." Connor relented before he even began to argue as he agreed to take care of Hank himself. "I will let Sumo outside and bring you additional medication to ensure you rest properly. Perhaps something that can ease the fever to prevent it from becoming dangerously high."

The loyal deviant reluctantly left the bedroom to allow the large dog outside through the backdoor in the kitchen. Sumo was more than ready to go outside after being cooped up all day and practically sprinted through the opened door as Connor returned his attention to the various medications that Hank had purchased and left strewn about in the middle of the kitchen table.

"It's fortunate that Sumo didn't have an accident while Hank was sleeping. He's a very good dog."

Isolating the obviously effective sleeping pills from the rest of the medication Connor carefully read the active ingredients printed on the back of each box and selected the pills that contained the appropriate amount of fever reducer. Tearing open the box he took two pills from the plastic and foil packaging, as well as the green tinted bottle of the remaining six various sports drinks, before returning to Hank's bedroom.

Hank had his eyes closed but he was still awake as he laid back heavily against his thick pillow. As soon as he heard Connor's footsteps Hank opened his eyes again and looked at the deviant hovering protectively over him.

"Kid?"

"I brought you some medication." Connor extended his hand to offer Hank the medicine and the drink. "This should bring down your fever. I'm getting you some ice as well."

"Sure, whatever."

Cooperatively Hank popped the two pills into his mouth and as he screwed off the cap from the drink bottle while Connor stepped back out of the bedroom. Swallowing the pills with a mouthful of lime flavored electrolytes, Hank listened to Connor in the kitchen opening the freezer door to gather some ice to put inside a plastic bag. Before he returned to the bedroom Connor stopped inside the bathroom to grab a washcloth to wrap around the ice to create a compress. Hank made sure to let Connor know that he appreciated all the concern and the help.

"Thanks for doing this, by the way."

"It's my pleasure." Connor just nodded a little as he smoothed the cold compress over Hank's too warm forehead gently. "You've taken care of me more times than you should have had to do. I'm happy to help you."

"Just don't make it a habit, all right?"

"I will do my best." Sitting down on the edge of the bed again Connor cybernetically monitored Hank's condition visually to ensure he wasn't 'smothering' Hank with his righteous worry. "When was the last time you had something to eat?"

"I honestly can't say." The very idea of eating anything was enough to make Hank's stomach churn. "I haven't had much of an appetite for the past day or two."

"I'll make you some toast. It'll be easy on your stomach."

"Thanks, but I haven't been throwing-up."

"That's a good sign. It's one less symptom to worry about." Connor gave Hank a reassuring smile as he departed the bedroom. "I won't be too far if you need anything else."

As he walked down the hallway Connor cybernetically and verbally contacted Lucas and spoke with his little brother over the line as he opened the backdoor to allow Sumo back inside the house. Busying himself in the kitchen Connor set about placing a piece of bread into the toaster and pulled the small lever down while bringing Lucas up to speed.

"Lucas?"

'Hello, Connor.' Lucas responded in a somewhat groggy voice as he exited rest mode upon hearing Connor's voice inside his head. 'Is something wrong?'

"Possibly. I'm with Hank and he is sick. I'm going to stay with him until he begins to recover."

'Do you need me to come over?'

"He is not in any immediate danger, but if his condition does begin to degrade, then I will have to take him to the hospital. I may need some assistance in getting him to the car if it comes to that." Lowering his voice slightly Connor reminded Lucas of Hank's own stubborn demeanor. "He disdains hospitalization."

'I understand. Stay in touch and keep me informed of Hank's health.'

"I will. Thank you, brother."

As Connor ended the cybernetic call the toast popped out of the toaster in a timely manner. Placing the warm toast on a paper towel the deviant opened up a jar of peanut butter and put a fine layer of the protein rich food over the warm toast. Afterward, he carried it down the hallway and into the bedroom to offer to Hank.

"It's not much, but it's better than continuing to fast while your body attempts to fight off the infection."

"...Thanks." Hank took the toast and lightly bit down on one of the corners. Despite not having eaten in almost a full day Hank still didn't have much of an appetite and he had to force himself to finish that one tiny bite. "Anything interesting happen while I was sick in bed all day? Got any good cases to handle?"

"No." There was something oddly comforting about discussing work despite such a topic usually being stressful or macabre. "I was placed on desk duty due to a lack of a partner to go out into the field, and I had finished filing my reports long before it was time to leave."

"Sorry. Hope you weren't too bored without me."

"I wasn't so much bored, but I did find today rather... dull."

"How's Lucas doing?"

"His day was less dull." Connor confirmed with a slight smile as his cautiously tinted yellow L.E.D. finally turned blue. "The deviants that I had aided after Jonas abducted me had finally crossed the border from Canada last night, and they are now safe at New Jericho Tower. Lucas was quite busy as he tended to their repairs and helped them become registered as individuals under the new android protection laws. They are now free."

"That's good. At least something good happened today for one of us." Exhausted and still without an appetite Hank put aside the toast onto the nearby nightstand and closed his eyes as he felt overwhelmingly tired. "...I just wish I could go one year without catching the damn flu."

"You don't have the flu." After analyzing the biometric scan results Connor stated Hank's accurate diagnosis somewhat curtly. "You have bronchitis."

"Same thing."

"No," such a statement perplexed Connor and prompted his L.E.D. to flash to red for a beat. "it's not."

"Yes it... Nevermind." Letting out another sigh and covering his mouth with his hand as yet another cough escaped his lips, Hank let himself begin to drift off to sleep and continue to rest. "I'll be fine, son. Why don't you go home now and enjoy the rest of the evening?"

"I'm not going anywhere while you're so ill."

"Well, if you are going to stick around could you at least go into another room?" The fatigue was heavy in Hank's every word as sleep began to creep over what little strength he had regained while resting. "I don't want you watching me while I sleep."

"Sure, I'll be in the livingroom if you do need anything."

As Connor left the bedroom, he pulled the door partially shut behind himself and walked as quietly as he could down the hallway to sit down on the couch. After slipping off his jacket Connor began patting his leg to call Sumo over to him and began to aggressively rub at the dog's soft ears. It had been a few days since Connor had been able to spoil the lovable dog rotten, and he was beginning to miss it.

"I missed you boy, but you're not allowed in my apartment building. No pets."

The massive dog happily leaned into Connor's hands as the deviant affectionately scratched his ears and Sumo's large tail thumped loudly against the side of the couch as Connor paid him some much needed attention. It seemed that Sumo understood the assignment and knew he needed to stay with Connor for as long as the deviant was over for a visit.

There was a soft knock at the front door that caused Connor's blue L.E.D. to flash back to yellow in confusion briefly as he rose from the couch to answer the door. He hadn't ordered anything to aid in Hank's recovery and Hank hadn't mentioned anything about a delivery or visitor of his own.

"Lucas?" The yellow glowing L.E.D. shifted back to blue as the visitor was clearly a friend and not a foe. Standing in the opened doorway Connor gave his little brother a curious look and stepped aside to ensure that Lucas could enter the home. "Why are you here?"

"I decided to check in on Hank as well." A paper grocery bag was clutched tightly in the deviant technician's hand that held numerous items he had purchased from the nearby grocery store as he walked over to the house. "I hope that's okay."

"It's fine, come in. This is your second him alongside Hank and myself."

Without any hesitation Lucas walked into the house and Sumo rushed up to the second deviant as he anxiously awaited additional attention. Lucas happily patted Sumo's head with his free hand as he looked to Connor and nodded at the bag in his full hand.

"I bought some things that humans refer to as 'homeopathic treatments' for illnesses." The compassionate technician confirmed with a cheeky grin. "If Hank doesn't want to go to the hospital for proper medical attention, then perhaps this will aid his recovery instead."

"That was a good idea." Connor took the bag from Lucas's hand and carried it into the kitchen. "I have already given him some medication to reduce his fever as well as something light to eat. He is now resting. Have you rested as well?"

"Yes. I feel far more energized." Lucas finished petting Sumo and joined his older brother in the kitchen. More focused on Hank's health than his own, Lucas set about assisting his brother in tending to the ill senior detective's condition. "One of the treatments that humans often rely on is a simple recipe for a meal called chicken soup." As he spoke to Connor beside him Lucas began to carefully unpack the items from the bag and strategically set them out on the nearby countertops. "I will attempt to make the soup, but it will require an hour to do so properly to prevent unnecessary and debilitating food poisoning."

"Have you ever cooked a meal before?"

"No, I have not." It was one of the few tasks that the superior 'RK-900' model of android had no experience with handling. "Have you?"

"Yes. It's not difficult, I can show you how." Connor volunteered as he set about locating the required utensils and a large cooking pot stored throughout the kitchen's cabinets and drawers. "Hank taught me how to do this just two weeks after I had initially moved in with him."

"But why would you learn such a skill? You do not have to eat."

"Because I do enjoy learning new things." Placing the clean metal pot on the stove Connor gave his little brother a somewhat coy smirk. "I found cooking to be a fascinating experience as it has a scientific approach that intrigues me. Recipes are a form of controlled chaos that helps ease stress once the meal has been completed."

"That's an interesting concept."

"Indeed." Checking over the provided ingredients Connor cybernetically downloaded a recipe and set about preparing it. "Let me show you what I mean."


Barely an hour after he had fallen back asleep Hank was gently awoken by Connor's hand pressing down against his warm forehead lightly to check on his fever once more. As Hank opened his bloodshot blue eyes and regained his senses, as sluggish and stuffed up as they may have been thanks to his illness, Hank was greeted by both Connor and Lucas standing beside his bed with worried expressions on their faces. While Connor retracted his hand he sat back down on the edge of the bed and carefully helped Hank to sit upright and removed the now warm compress from the ill man's feverish forehead to be replaced with a fresh one once he was laying down again to resume resting.

Unsure of why Lucas was at the house Hank sighed and tried to figure out what he had missed out on while sleeping. He didn't mind Lucas stopping by the house for any reason, but when he had deviants popping up every time he closed his eyes Hank began to worry that he was hallucinating or finally going insane.

"Connor, Lucas." Taking a moment to blink a few times and clear his vision Hank gave the twin deviants an odd glance. "What's going on?"

"Your fever has dropped to a more manageable degree of one-hundred point two degrees." Connor explained nonchalantly as he gave Hank's vitals another biometric scan. "You are also no longer trembling which is a sign of returning strength."

"...I noticed. When did Lucas get here?"

"One hour, six minutes ago."

"Why didn't you wake me earlier?"

"You needed to rest."

"Doesn't matter." The sick Lieutenant countered with a mild hint of irritation. "I want to know when you two stop by, no matter what the reason or the time of day."

"I'm sorry." Connor sounded genuinely regretful for not informing Hank of Lucas's initial arrival. "If this happens again, I will wake you sooner."

"Why did you wake me up at all?"

Lucas smiled a little as he answered on Connor's behalf. "We thought you might want to try to eat some chicken soup instead of just toast."

"Wait..." Rubbing his fingers over his tired eyes Hank slowly registered what he had just been told. "You two were cooking while I was sleeping?"

"Yes." The deviant technician confirmed, his brow furrowing slightly at the question. "...Was that wrong?"

"No. Just unexpected." Hank looked over at the time on his alarm clock beside the bed and sighed at the sight. "It's getting late, but, yeah. I'll try to eat some of that soup."

Nodding happily Lucas stepped out of the bedroom to retrieve the serving tray that had the bowl of soup to deliver to Hank.

"Perhaps you should call in sick tomorrow as well." Connor suggested with poorly masked concern in his voice. The urge to protect his family was becoming an increasingly strong instinct that Connor was struggling to overcome in favor of logical alternatives. "You will need at least one day to recover from your bronchitis."

"Okay, but you still have to go to work tomorrow no matter how poorly I may feel."

"But you may need-"

"I have Lucas now, don't I?" Hank's voice was firm but not aggressive as he spoke up matter-of-factly to get Connor to back off. "Don't try to do too much at once, son. You'll burn yourself out."

"I'm aware." Connor gave Hank an appreciative smile as he understood what Hank was saying and what he was suggesting. "You trust Lucas?"

"Of course I do. He's your brother, he's essentially you. Except for the eye and hair color." Hank joked with a faint smile on his pale face. "He's not a cold heartless machine anymore. He's my other son."

"That's reassuring." Without needing to say anything further, he knew that Lucas had finally overcome his negative past reputation. With any luck, Connor would be able to do the same for himself. "If you will permit me, I would like to stay the night to ensure that you're not in any danger."

"Yeah, go ahead." Hank wasn't one to shoo his own family out the door, especially when they were worried about him. "Your old bedroom is still the same and waiting for you. Your fish are all still alive, too."

Lucas returned to the master bedroom with the serving tray with the freshly made bowl of soup and gently laid it out over Hank's lap. A glass of water had also been set on the tray just in case Hank wanted something less sugary in his diet while he recovered from his illness.

"I hope this tastes appropriate. It's difficult to cook and season when one cannot properly taste anything and determine what tastes correct and what tastes incorrect."

"Thanks, boys." The perfect soup looked like it had come straight out of a magazine. There was no way that either of the perfectionist brothers could've messed up a simple recipe like chicken soup. "I appreciate all your help."

"You're welcome. Besides," Connor gently put his hand on the sick man's arm lightly as he spoke. "it's what families do for each other. Right?"

"Yeah, that's right. I'm glad you two understand that families are important." Hank took a small taste of the soup and couldn't believe how closely it mirrored the soup recipe that Barbara had made a few years prior. Such a taste nearly brought Hank to tears. "Hey, uh, how about we all just move out to the livingroom? It'll do me some good to get out of this bed."

"Agreed." Connor picked up the serving tray and watched as Lucas helped Hank to stand upright from the bed. After Lucas wrapped the quilt around Hank's shoulders and led him out of the bedroom doorway, Connor followed and decided to get some laundry done before he left. "I believe there's another hockey game scheduled for this evening, and I imagine that you'd like the chance to win back your money."

"Yeah, yeah." Sniffling once Hank ran his hand over his greasy hair and nearly plopped down onto the couch to get some rest. "Didn't anyone tell you it's not cool to pick on the sick guy?"

"Not until you just made such a statement."

"Fair enough." Hank let out a single, stuffy chuckle as he settled in on the couch with his two sons beside him. "Such a smartass."

-next chapter-