Chapter Text
One week later:
“Connor?”
Connor flinched, his head whipping around from the empty report on his desktop which he’d been staring on for the past five minutes. Hank was standing next to his office chair, holding a cup of coffee in one hand and a bag of thirium in the other, an apologetic grimace on his face. He put down the bag next to a case file on Connor’s desk and put the free hand on his shoulder.
”Sorry son, didn’t mean to startle you.”
”No worries, it’s fine”, Connor assured him faintly, then grabbed the thirium bag and held it up, forcing a smile onto his face. “Thanks.”
”Don’t mention it.”
Giving his partner’s shoulder one last pat, Hank rounded his desk to plop down on his own chair, slurping at his coffee and regarding Connor with an intent gaze.
„I met Josh when I was out“, he mentioned casually. „You know, the Jericho guy who‘s managing the deviant relocations after the revolution.“
“Yes, I remember Josh“, said Connor, who‘d returned to struggling through his report, face angled only towards his monitor. „Did you ask him about Luther?“
“Didn‘t need to, he brought it up himself. They found a place for him and the girls to stay just this morning. They‘ll be moving in soon.“
That did get a genuine smile out of Connor.
“So Kara and Alice are staying with him after all?“
“Yeah. I thought it a little weird since he‘s been one of their capturers, but I guess you can’t hold androids up to the shit they did until they turned deviant. Plus, he‘s agreed to help Jericho saving and coaching androids who‘ve been forced by their owners to commit crimes.“
“What about the other two? How are they doing?“
“As well as one might imagine, at least going by what Josh told me. Kara‘s been put back together and will be applying for a job as soon as she‘s recovered enough and they‘ve settled into the new place.“
“That‘s good to hear“, said Connor, trailing off absentmindedly. Lowering his coffee cup, Hank smacked his lips once, twice and then leaned forward, asking:
”What’s up with you anyway? You seem a lot more distracted and jumpy than you did before I left. Even more so than you have since…”
The word ‘Zlatko’, never mentioned between them after the mechanic at the DPD had finished piecing Connor back together, hung heavily in the air between them. Even if it hadn’t tasted like bile on Hank’s tongue, he would have cut it out of his mouth himself before saying it out loud in front of Connor, who still looked a little pale and haunted from their encounter last week. The Lieutenant sure as hell was the last person who’d blame him for that. The sight of his friend strapped to that metal rack with more than half of his body missing, thirium pump exposed, tubes and wires unceremoniously stuck to the ragged edges, blue blood leaking down the table’s bludged surface… It was an image that had haunted Hank in his nightmares ever since and would probably do so for quite some time to come. But his own discomfort wasn’t important. It was most likely nothing compared to what Connor was still feeling about the event.
”Chief Fowler came by our desk while you were gone”, said Connor, his voice little more than a rough whisper. “He got a call from border control. They found Zlatko today, trying to flee the country.”
Hank, who’d in that moment been about to take a sip from his coffee, choked and coughed on it, nearly splattering it all over the stack of paperwork in front of him. Wordlessly, Connor handed him a packet of tissues, patiently waiting for the Lieutenant to clean up. Hank hastily wiped his face before chugging the crumpled tissue into the overflowing wastepaper bin beneath his desk and leaned back over towards Connor, gripping the edge of his desk while blurting:
”Where is he right now?!”
”Custody, they’re going to drive him back to the city so he can be brought in front of a judge.”
”Good”, said Hank, emphasizing the end of the sentence with a light slap on the tabletop for good measure. Then, more hesitatingly, he added: “And… how are you holding up?”
Connor blinked, evading eye-contact for a moment. Then, as if fearing to appear dodgy in front of his partner, he met his eyes with another attempt at an assuring smile.
”I’ll be fine.”
”That’s not what I was asking.”
”I know, I-…” The android sighed, letting his head hang low, and wiped a hand over his face. “It’s fine, Lieutenant. You don’t need to worry about me.”
Hank snorted humorlessly, crossing his arms.
”Little late for that, kid.” He paused, scratching the back of his neck as he searched for the right words. He spontaneously got up from his chair, rounding his own desk and leaned against the top of Connor’s, coercing the android to look up at him again. “Listen, Connor, I know we don’t do… this a lot”, he began, waving his hand through the air in a vague gesture. At Connor’s puzzled expression, he clarified: “You know… the talking thing.”
”You mean communicating?”, Connor asked, the trace of an amused smile ghosting over his lips. Hank took this as encouragement and decided to double down on it.
”Yeah, that”, he said with a smirk. “To be honest though, I’d much prefer to throw myself in front of a gun for you to get my point across.”
”If I hadn’t seen you actually do that, I’d say that’s a little melodramatic”, Connor quipped as he leaned back in his chair, looking a bit more relaxed. Hank chuckled, feeling that he’d made the right choice in using banter to break the ice. Banter he could do, but he also knew that it wouldn’t suffice on its own in this specific case.
”Point is”, he carried on, leaning forward a little. “I know what happened last week has taken a lot out of you. I know because it has for me, so I can only imagine what it must be for you. I want you to know that you’re not dealing with this on your own. You have me, alright? Whenever you feel like you want to talk about it… I’m here, okay? I’ll always be here.”
Connor’s wide, brown eyes grew misty, he let out a sniff, then another and before Hank knew fully what he was doing, he’d drawn the kid up into his arms, wrapping him up in a bear hug.
Ever since his turn to deviancy, he’d only seen Connor cry a handful of times, the time last week included, and as one might imagine, he’d liked none of them. This time felt a little different though, almost cathartic. Connor clung to him for dear life as he continued to quietly sob into his shoulder and Hank held him up steadily while carding a hand through his hair. It wasn’t anything earth shattering, but it felt nice. Not only was he helping the kid heal some inner wounds, he also felt he was mending some of his own in the process.
While the Lieutenant didn’t much care at if they had an audience or not, he was thankful that it was mid-day and the department pretty much empty, if only for the sake of sparing Connor the embarrassment. Ben Collins was the only one coming by their desk while they were hugging and he had so much tact as to only smile knowingly, giving Hank a wordless nod, which the Lieutenant returned with a small, thanking hand gesture.
It took quite some time for Connor‘s shoulders to stop shaking and his sobbing to subside and even more time for him to start peeling himself out of the Lieutenant‘s hold. Hank only reluctantly let go of him and even then kept a steadying hand on his shoulder, just in case. Connor‘s face looked pale and his eyes were still a little wet, but the smile he gave Hank when he looked up at him was the most carefree he‘d appeared to him in a week. It seemed to say ‚I‘ll be okay‘ and convinced Hank way more than the actual words themselves would have.
“Thanks, Hank“, Connor sniffed. Hank felt his heart squeeze and patted the other’s shoulder, feeling that rare sensation of optimism return, which Connor had a particular talent to provoke in him. That feeling that, no matter what they were going through, they really would be okay.
“Any time, son.”