Working together Connor and Hank had finished applying the third and final coat of the selected cobalt blue paint over the entire body of the previously white Corvette, and were ready to admire the final results of their hard work. The color was a vivid shade that was as pure and brilliant as the deepest ocean itself and was truly attractive to anyone who'd look at it. Putting aside the paint dispenser and stepping out of the garage through the wide opened door. the two detectives removed their protective masks from over their faces and stared at the shining blue color with a righteous sense of pride as they took in fresh breaths to escape the paint fumes.
Sumo was standing up on his hind legs and watching the two detectives through the livingroom's window just begging to get outside. Whimpering sadly as he watched the two detectives outside he impatiently waited for them to return to the house so he could finally go outside and play in the backyard.
"She looks good in blue, huh, Connor?" Hank tossed aside the mask onto the driveway and ran a hand through his messy gray locks of hair. "I like it."
"Yes." Connor mirrored Hank's gesture and removed his mask and deposited on the driveway next to Hank's mask. "I believe that blue was the correct color to choose. May I ask why you were so opposed to the color being green?"
"...It's not important." Dismissing the question Hank replaced it with a question of his own. "So, it's only a few days until your birthday. Are you going to keep your word and celebrate it this year?"
Connor thought back to the promise that he had made Hank so many months prior about trying to celebrate the anniversary of his activation date in the same manner that humans celebrate their own birthdays. While he intended to keep the promise he was unsure of exactly what it meant to celebrate a birthday or how to even behave. "I will celebrate my birthday, but I don't understand the proper etiquette in doing so."
"'Etiquette'? Jeez, don't act so formal about it."
"Sorry?"
"Look, birthdays are celebrated in all kinds of ways." The senior detective tried to explain casually and simplistically. "Some people like to have giant parties, get showered with presents and get as much attention as possible; then there are people, like me, who like to just let the day go by unchecked."
"Why can't I-"
"Because you've never had a birthday before and you should experience at least one in your lifetime."
"Oh. I see."
"Don't worry, kid. I'm not the 'party-type' of person, and you're way too reserved to survive something like that without feeling overwhelmed. I won't throw a surprise party for you."
"Thank you."
"How about you choose something that you want to do or pick something you want as a present, and I'll make it happen."
The offer seemed to be ideal but Connor wasn't sure how to accept it. "...Like what?"
"How the fuck should I know?" Hank playfully slapped Connor in the back of the head just enough to rustle his dark locks of hair. "It's your choice, but no more pets! Your aquarium and Sumo are enough..."
Connor paused for a moment to try to think about what he wanted but nothing came to mind and he was left without any definitive answer. "What would you pick?"
"That doesn't matter, son." Walking around the side of the house toward the back deck Hank rubbed his right hand against the back of his tense neck and tried to stretch out his lower back as he walked slowly. "You need to pick something for yourself. You got a week to decide, so no pressure."
"Right. I'll think about it."
Ready to go back inside for the evening Connor walked over to the garage and pulled the door only partially closed to allow the remaining paint fumes to escape, while also keeping prying eyes from seeing the Corvette from the street. Joining Hank on the back deck Connor opened the backdoor and was immediately tackled by Sumo who put his massive paws up on Connor's shoulders and tried to lick at his face.
"I guess Sumo hates being cooped up inside while we're outside." Hank stated casually as he walked inside the house with his right hand still wrapped around his neck and his left hand now pressing against his back in a supportive manner. "He's now a teenager in dog years and needs more room to run around."
"Yes, I'm aware. I just wasn't willing to risk Sumo getting into any of the paint." Affectionately Connor rubbed the dog's ears and pushed his paws away from his shoulders to push Sumo back down onto all fours. "I am not looking forward to his next bath."
Hank paused for a moment as he stepped into the kitchen and tried again to stretch out his tense his lower back. "Fuck... I need to shower off before my back starts bitchin' any louder."
"Would you like a muscle relaxer?" Always helpful Connor offered to remedy as he followed Hank into the kitchen with Sumo dancing around in a small circle at his feet. "I purchased a bottle of such a medication a few months back when you had previously been ill with the flu."
"Nah, I don't want to pop a pill to fix my problems."
Relieved to hear such a logical answer Connor let the matter drop. "I understand."
"And Connor?"
"Yes?"
"Try to think of something for your birthday." Limping a little as he walked out of the kitchen and down the hallway to the bathroom, Hank encouraged Connor to try to be a little more enthusiastic about his upcoming birthday. "Just so you know, your own birthday is the one day of the year where you're kinda' expected to be a selfish bastard. So don't feel bad about asking for anything just for yourself. Okay?"
"Okay." Watching as Hank disappeared into the bathroom Connor took Hank's advice to heart as gave Sumo's chin some rubs. "I'll try to keep that in mind."
While Hank was in the shower Connor had busied himself with a load of laundry and a game of fetch with Sumo in the livingroom as he tried to think of something he'd like for his birthday, but he simply couldn't think of anything to ask for. Android or deviant, he had no desire for personal possessions or anything of monetary value, and since he had been permanently employed at the precinct he was able to afford anything he would want without having to rely on limited funds provided to him by CyberLife.
As Sumo dropped the drool drenched green fetch ball on Connor's lap for the thirty-second consecutive time a loud 'thud' in the bathroom caught Connor's attention and he heard Hank swearing shortly thereafter. "...Fuck!"
"Hank?" Connor stood up from the couch letting the ball roll from his legs and onto the floor where Sumo promptly picked it back up and held it in his mouth as he wagged his tail. "Hank, are you all right?"
There was a pause before Hank's muffled voice responded with a twinge of ache in his words. "...No."
Approaching the bathroom door Connor turned the knob slowly and pushed the door open to peer inside. "What happened?"
Hank was laying on his back in the middle of the floor looking embarrassed and in pain. His right hand was pressed to the back of his head and the left hand was tucked beneath his back as he laid on the floor in his black sweatpants and faded gray t-shirt. "I... fuckin' threw my back out."
"Can you move at all?" Connor asked as he knelt down beside Hank and ran a biometric scan over the senior detective's body to check his overall vitals. "Are you suffering from any additional physical limitations?"
"I'm not numb, if that's what you mean."
Nodding a little Connor focused on Hank's lower extremities as he assessed the senior detective's condition. "Will you move your legs for me?"
"Uh, sure." Awkwardly Hank managed to extend and bend his right leg with no problem, but when he tried to mimic the action for the left leg a sharp shooting pain seared down his spine and caused him to flinch and swear again. "Ah! Fuck..."
"Okay, hold still." Connor put his right hand on Hank's left shoulder lightly in a supportive manner as he ran a direct scan over Hank's skull. "Did you hit your head?"
"...Yup."
Curiously Connor peered down at the Hank's gray locks of hair to look for any blood and found a small crimson blossom beginning to form on the back of his head. "You suffered a laceration to the back of your skull."
"...Explains the headache." Hank replied sarcastically as he tried to lift his head up to look down at himself, and in that moment Connor slipped a fluffy white towel underneath his head to support him and to mop up the growing puddle of blood. Laying his head back down on the pillow Hank sighed and pulled his hand away from his hair and looked at the smear of blood on his palm. "Now, if you can tell me what the hell happened to my back I'd be grateful."
"Where is the pain localized?"
"My lower back. Just above my hips."
Moving his position Connor ran a move thorough scan over Hank's spine to locate an sign of an injury. There was no sign any slipped discs along the full length of his vertebrae, but there was inflammation of the muscles surrounding his sciatic nerve. "You're suffering from sciatica."
"Great... What the fuck caused it?"
"The muscles that had been surgically repaired after you were assaulted six months prior have become inflamed from overuse and strain." Connor explained calmly as he slipped his hand under Hank's shoulders and very slowly, carefully, helped the senior detective to sit upright on the floor. "Can you remain in this position?"
"...I can try." Hank admitted through gritted teeth as he used his strong arms to brace himself upright and watched Connor making his move to peer at his bloodied head for a second time. "What're you doing?"
"You require a few stitches to close your wound." As the deviant explained his logic he exited the bathroom and pulled open the hallway closet to retrieve the impressive first aid kit that was far more well stocked than that of the android first aid kit kept under the sink. "I will attempt to-"
"No way! I trust you with my life, but there's no way I'm going to sit on the floor like a torn open ragdoll while you stitch up my head."
"I am going to at least sterilize the wound and bandage it." Connor bargained as he knelt on the floor behind Hank with the first aid kit in his hand. Placing the kit down Connor flipped the lid wide open to pick up the necessary supplies to help close the bleeding wound. "You should have this stitched up properly to prevent infection."
"Nope. I'm not going into the E.R. and I'm not going to make a doctor's appointment, either."
"...Very well."
Using a cottonball Connor dabbed some alcohol onto the wound carefully and ignored Hank's hisses of pain as the astringent stung at his sore skin. Pressing a pad of white gauze down against the wound Connor used two strips of medical adhesive to hold the bandage in place, securing the strips to Hank's scalp under his dark locks of gray hair.
"The wound has been sterilized." Closing the kit Connor put it aside and out of the way on the edge of the sink. "I have to move you now."
"Yeah, sure." Hank draped his right arm around Connor's shoulders while Connor returned his left arm around Hank's chest and shoulders. "Let's get this over with, kid."
Keeping his arm in place around Hank's upper body the deviant let the senior detective lean most of his weight against his own body as he stood up slowly while pulling Hank up from the floor at his side. "You require rest in order for your back to properly heal. Three days minimum."
"Fuck that. I'm not missing any more work."
"You can't even stand on your own right now."
"...Fine. But as soon as my back's better I'm returning to work, got it?"
"Got it." Adjusting his own weight to better accommodate Hank's near deadweight Connor stood perfectly upright while very carefully helping Hank to do the same. Making sure Hank wasn't going to fall Connor offered him another helpful suggestion. "You should lay on the floor in your bedroom. The firm surface will support your weight and help realign your spine."
"Hell no, the floor is Sumo's bed. My own bed will do just fine, kid."
"Your mattress is too worn down to support your spine appropriately." Leading the way Connor guided Hank out of the bathroom and into his own bedroom rather than Hank's bedroom to get some rest. "However, my mattress is still relatively new and much firmer."
"Connor, I can't kick you out of your own room."
"I can sleep on the couch. After all, I spent over a year on the couch before I was given this room. And I'm volunteering to give you my room, you're not kicking me out."
"Uh-huh, and how much of your free time are you going to give up just to take care of me while I'm resting up?"
"As much time that's required for you to heal."
Moving carefully Connor helped Hank to sit down on the edge of the bed, the upright position causing Hank's inflamed back to scream in pain again. Sensing Hank's immense discomfort Connor guided Hank back until he was laying on his back with his bandaged head resting against the pillow without jostling him around too much.
"I'll get you some ibuprofen. It'll aid your headache and help reduce the inflammation in your back."
Unable to move Hank watched as Connor stepped out of the bedroom door then found himself looking over the various items that Connor had collected over his short life that now adorned the bedroom itself. The painting that Lucas had created for him was still on the opposite wall from the bed for Connor to clearly see at night to keep his nightmares at bay, his crystal clear aquarium was resting against the wall next to the window and it was still full of vibrant tropical fish, the stuffed dog toy he had been given as a 'Get Well' present was sitting on the bookshelf to the right of the bed and resting in the corner of the room up by the left side of the bed on the other side of the nightstand was his emerald green guitar.
Green. Why did Connor have to have green as his favorite color?
"If you drink more water," Connor returned to the bedroom with a bottle of water, two tablets of ibuprofen and an ice pack in his hands. "it'll ease muscle tension and muscle cramps as well."
"...Thanks." Hank took the medicine and followed the pills with the water before accepting the ice pack and slipping it under his back. "I'll remember that."
"Is something bothering you?" Noticing that Hank seemed upset about something Connor asked what was wrong. "I mean something other than your back."
Hank smirked at the witty remark as he let out a weary sigh. "...You still want to know why I didn't want the Corvette the color green?"
"Yes. I find it odd and fascinating that humans can have color preferences and color disfavor."
"It's because green was Cole and Barbara's favorite color. Every time I see it I think of them."
"...Oh." Suddenly feeling guilty Connor decided to back off with the color in general and try to change the subject without it being too obvious. "I didn't know that. Is it safe to presume that red is your favorite color?"
"No, I actually like blue best. I'm not sure why I wanted red now that I really think about it."
"Perhaps it's because red and green are polar opposite of one another on the color spectrum."
"...Uh, I don't think I'm that deep, Connor." Laughing a little Hank just gave the comment a shake of his head. "But we'll go with that."
Changing the subject entirely away from emotionally traumatic pasts Connor decided to focus on the present. "The ice pack will numb the pain and reduce the inflammation for the time being. I'll bring in a heating pad in three hours to ease the tension afterward."
"How in the hell do you know so much about human spinal injuries?"
"After you told me about your chronic back problems I cybernetically downloaded information on the subject to better assist you if it became necessary. Then after you were stabbed I downloaded additional knowledge as a precautionary measure."
"Glad you did." Forcing his back to relax as much as possible against the ice pack despite his urge to get away from the cold, Hank tried to think about something other than the pain that was threatening to flare up at any moment. "...So, did you decide what you want for your birthday?"
"No. I'm still trying to think of something as you requested, but to be honest there really isn't anything I want. I already have everything I need."
"Well, keep thinking. If you can't think of something in time for your birthday then I'll think of something for you, all right?"
"...Not a surprise party, correct?"
"Oh, hell no, I wouldn't do that to you." The very idea of putting together a social gathering sounded as tedious as it was obnoxious to endure. "Especially now that I'm sober..."
"What did you do you for your birthdays before you stopped celebrating them?"
"The usual shit as a kid with my parents and my friends." The senior detective replied honestly. "I got with a group of friends and went downtown to watch a movie and then hang out all night together. Then when I got older I got together with another group of friends, got drunk and passed out. I don't recommend the passing out part."
"You didn't want anything for your birthday as a gift?"
"Oh, sure, yeah. But I was more into gifts as a kid than as an adult, most people are."
"Like what?"
"I don't remember. Whatever the fuck my little kid brain thought was awesome at the time. I can remember getting my first bike when I was five, a video game console when I was seven, my first 'Metallica' album when I was twelve, my first car when I was sixteen and when I turned eighteen me and my dad spent a weekend in the U.P. camping in the woods. That's all I can remember because those gifts were important and sentimental, but I know I got a shit ton of other stuff, too."
"I see. I believe it's possible that I'm finding it difficult to decide on a gift because I will always retain a memory and I still don't have the emotional capacity or understanding to appreciate such a gesture."
"Hey, you need to stop being so hard on yourself when it comes to your emotions, okay? You're far more human than you realize and I mean that in a good way."
"I still don't feel human. There are times where I don't truly feel like a deviant, either."
"Emotions are complex and fickle. Hell, I've been alive for over fifty years and I'm still learning how to deal with shit."
"Will it become easier to comprehend with time?"
"Yup. I know I've told you this countless times before but you need to learn be more patient with yourself."
"I am trying, but I find it increasingly frustrating to have felt emotions for so long and still be unable to fully understand what it is I'm feeling."
"If you had to describe what you're feeling right now; what you're experiencing emotionally, what would you call it?"
Connor stood in silence for a moment as he tried to identify his feelings and describe them. Searching Hank's face for guidance, all the deviant could do was answer with the first thought that came to his mind. "...Wrong. I feel wrong. It's like the person I see myself becoming is the not the person I see when I look at my own reflection."
"You've had an existential crisis before, so what's changed now?"
"When I was emotionally torn before it was regarding my existence as either just a hollow machine or a living being. Now it feels like I'm alive but I still don't know what it means to actually live or how to fully let go of my past as a machine to have a fulfilling future as a deviant."
"I think you're thinking too much again. You've been through A LOT of shit this year alone, not to mention all that stuff that happened the year before and your time after the Revolution, before the Revolution and when you were still a part of CyberLife." Doing his best to offer counsel Hank wanted to make sure Connor knew he wasn't doing anything wrong by being confused with his emotions. "You can't just shrug that off and act like it never happened. You need to find a way to accept it, I mean really accept it, and not just deal with it and move on. Mistakes are a part of living, and with that comes the ability to keep living even after you screw up."
"Am I in denial over my past?" Connor's brow furrowed slightly as he spoke. "Or... am I dreading my future?"
"Don't get philosophical on me, son. I took a blow to my head today, remember?"
"Yes, I remember." Smirking at the lighthearted comment Connor was truly appreciative of Hank's support. "I apologize if I had aggravated your headache."
"It's okay, you didn't do anything wrong. Look," Hank absolutely hated it when Connor began obsessing over things he couldn't change. "you're okay and you're safe with me. We're family and I'll look after you, you don't have to worry about anything anymore. And I'll help you figure out what it is you're going through once I have a few hours to get through my headache."
"I understand. Should I get you anything else to rest more comfortably?"
"No, I'm good." Hank winced slightly as he tried to readjust his weight and lay as flat as possible against the ice pack. "I just want to sleep for a while."
"Very well. I'll leave you alone to rest." Connor attempted to lighten then mood before he left, though he was still somewhat disheartened. "I'll even keep Sumo distracted for you."
"Connor," Hank stopped the deviant as he tried to back out of the doorway to leave the bedroom. "for what it's worth, I want you to know that I'm very proud of everything you've accomplished. No matter what other people may still think about androids or deviants I know the truth, and deep down inside you know it, too. You're a good person."
"Thank you." Connor's posture visibly straightened as if a tremendous weight was lifted from his shoulders. "...I can say the same about you with your sobriety. I'm proud that you stopped drinking."
"Yeah, except for the one or two idiotic slip-ups on my part."
"But mistakes are a part of living, right?" Connor gave the senior detective a knowing glance as he parroted the very advice Hank had given him before. "They are the very learning experiences that shape us as individuals."
Hank gave Connor an gracious glance as he laid his head back on the pillow and closed his tired blue eyes. "See? You're learning already."
"Yes. It appears you're correct."
"You'll be just fine, kid. You're a good person and no one will ever be able to say anything to change my mind." Holding up a playfully scolding finger Hank emphasized his point in a kind manner. "And don't let them try to change yours either, got it?"
"Got it."
"Good." Pulling the chocolate brown quilt up over his head Hank blocked out the fading sunlight to get some sleep and hope his head would stop hurting. "I'm glad you understand what I'm telling you."
"I'll see you in a few hours."
A faint grin appeared over Connor's face as he quietly took his leave of the bedroom. As he crept down the hallway silently Connor discreetly finished his sentence once he knew he was out of Hank's range of hearing.
"...I'm glad you took me in as your son."
-next chapter-
