Archive of Our Own ^omega

“Are you serious right now, Henry?”

She was using her angry voice, which around Cole, sounded more like she was just annoyed. But Hank knew her better than that.

“Sorry, Miriam, you know I can’t always control which holidays they make me work.”

Rolling her hazel eyes, his wife walked briskly down the sidewalk to their car. “I can’t believe this. You knew months ago that my parents wanted us to come see them on the Upper Peninsula this year. For a week.” The three of them stopped at the crosswalk, waiting for the light to turn. “You didn’t think to take it off when I told you?”

“I told you, I tried . I took off Memorial Day for that barbecue you wanted to host, and Easter to go see your brother. I can’t just take off every holiday, that’s not how it works.”

The light turned red, and so did her face. “Then maybe you should get an admin job like we talked about. When are you going to stop running around and playing ‘hero of the city’?”

They had this conversation time and time again. Hank loved his job, even if it was stressful, sometimes upsetting for his own mental health. He earned his rank after a huge drug bust, just before Cole was born. It was hard work, but with the number of lives he was able to save he wouldn’t trade it for anything.

Their dull green minivan was at the end of the block near the next intersection, just in sight. Cole stayed silent, and Hank felt a pang of guilt. He was only six, and he had heard his parents argue nearly every day for months now. The breaking point was coming, they could all feel it, but no one wanted to pull the plug.

“Let’s talk about this when we get home. Please, Miri?”

“Don’t you Miri me!” She snapped, letting go of Cole’s hand so he could climb into the backseat with his little bag from karate class. “It’s always ‘later’, ‘not right now’, but this is getting ridiculous!”

Hank sighed, eyeing their kid through the car window. “I just don’t want Cole to hear all this, okay?” His voice softened at the plea, and he frowned.

“Well, he’s in the car now. So let’s talk.”

She had always been so combative. It was kinda cute, even hot at first. But now it was piercing a dagger into their marriage. They married too fast, had Cole too soon. They should’ve waited, Hank thinks for what must have been the tenth time that day.

“I really like my job, and if things keep up, the chief thinks I could make captain in a few years. And then I won’t be out in the field as much, ya know?”

“In a few years ?! What, in a decade, when Cole’s going off to college? It’ll be so helpful then,” she groused.

He reached for her hands, but was vehemently denied any sort of touch as she crossed her arms. 

“You know I want this, and I’m trying to make this work. I am , I just-”

He was interrupted by several sounds at once, all of which made his stomach drop to the sidewalk.

The screech of brakes, a quick thud , a loud cry of a child, and a grunting yell of someone he didn’t recognize. Then, he heard a name yelled from across the street.

“Connor?!”

“Jesus, COLE!” Hank called, and Miriam gasped.

Both of them rounded the car, their argument immediately forgotten. When Hank saw Cole unharmed but sobbing against the side of the car, he started to tear up. Miriam got to him first, kneeling down to fuss over him, but Hank was suddenly curious about what had happened. It was in his nature, after years on the force. He gave Cole a kiss on the head before jogging to the front of the stopped car, covering his mouth.

There were two young men, both with deep brown hair, tall and skinny. One was unconscious and splayed out on the ground, the other frantically talking from beside him.“Holy shit, oh my god, Connor! What the fuck did you do?” He looked up at Hank, shaking with fear. “Please! Call an ambulance!”

Hank pulled out his phone, with 9-1-1 on the line in a matter of seconds. He gave the dispatcher the intersection, explaining in his lieutenant-voice that someone had been hit by a car. The driver was still in his car, looking rather shell-shocked himself. “It was an accident,” Hank said, hand shakily trying to keep hold of the phone.

The dispatcher promised that help was on the way, and he took another look at his wife and Cole before joining the stranger down on the asphalt. “Is he breathing?”

“I d-do- I don’t know. Fuck! Uh…” He had been holding the man’s hand, and brought his fingers up to the wrist. “I have a p-pusle but-”

There was a large mark on the unconscious man’s head near his brow, but Hank had a feeling his injuries went further than that. “Don’t try to move his head, he may have a concussion. Did you see it happen?”

The man nodded, “I wish I didn’t.”

Hank nodded; he could imagine. After another look, he could only assume the two were brothers. At least the guy wasn’t alone. “Did you see how fast the car was going?"

“It wasn’t- I don’t-”

The driver stepped out, a meek-looking blond man, “I’m so sorry, oh my god! For a moment I thought I was going to hit that child, but he just ran in front. I didn’t even think I was going that fast!”

“You-” Hank stood, looking back at Cole, who was now crying openly in his mother’s arms.

This stranger just saved his son’s life… what a terrifying thought.

Sirens wailed from behind them, and the ambulance meandered itself not too far away, along with a cop car. Hank was a bit relieved when he saw Chris and Tina step out.

“Jesus, Hank,” Chris said, watching the paramedics get supplies from their van. One of them comforting the hysterical brother, asking if he’d like to ride with them. “You all right?”

He explained what happened so they could draw up the report, his instincts trying to treat this as a third party to it wouldn’t scare him so much. They spoke with driver calmly, getting as much information as they could. Thankfully, he really hadn’t been going very fast, but it was just enough that the impact left the man with some head trauma, some broken ribs, and probably some kind of leg injury, too.

Hank brought Chris over to his family so they could check on Cole, now sitting with his legs dangling over the side of the backseat under the watchful eye of his mother. “Cole, are you all right buddy?”

His little lips were wobbly, still a bit teary-eyed, but nodded. “Am I in trouble?”

“God, no,” Hank said, leaning into the car to hold him. It smacked him in the face as he heard Cole sniffle that he very nearly lost his wonderful, sweet kid, and he held on so tight.

The ambulance pulled away, and Hank kicked himself for not seeing it off. “Hey Chris, can I see that report?”

Miller handed it to him instantly, and he got the names of the two brothers.

Niles Arkait, 33, the brother and witness.

And Cole’s saviour, Connor Arkait. 29 years old. Fuck, he’s so young, Hank thought.

“Thanks, Chris.”

“Of course, Lieutenant. Get your family home safe.”

They were going to go to the grocery store on their way home, but that plan got cancelled without any discussion. They went straight home, the car incredibly quiet the whole ride, no one saying a word until they walked through the front door and were greeted by their other family member.

“Hey Sumo,” Hank patted his head, letting him pass by to Cole, who needed the comfort much more. 

It didn’t take long for the two of them to be curled up on the couch together, Cole quietly stroking the dog’s fur while he watched some cartoons. Hank found Miriam hunched over the counter in the kitchen, and despite their earlier fight, she let him hold her closely for the comfort. 

She also let herself cry a little, not nuzzling into his shoulder like she used to, but refusing to budge all the same. “He was so upset hearing us argue, he got out of the car on the other side and was going to go back to the karate studio,” she whispered. “He saw the car, and then that young man pushed him out of the way. He saw everything , Henry.”

“Shit.”

Sniffing, she leaned away for a moment. “I don’t wanna fight anymore, but I don’t-”

“I know,” Hank replied, rubbing her back. “Why don’t we let things cool off, come up with a plan. Call our lawyer.”

“Yeah.”

They finally parted after a few minutes, and Hank tried to make himself useful as she started putting together some kind of dinner. “I was thinking of running to the hospital tomorrow morning to check on that guy.”

She nodded, “Maybe we can have Cole draw him a card?”

The conversation tapered off, making way for mostly silent dinner preparations. It was something simple, a goulash recipe that they always had ingredients for when there wasn’t much else in the fridge or pantry. When everything was in one pot, they took turns stirring and checking on Cole. 

He had fallen asleep on the couch with Sumo’s head on his lap. 

Hank took a deep breath; how were they going to agree on what to do with him? She would probably get majority custody, as the mother and she only worked part-time, so she could look after him more often. It hurt to think about, but it was for the best. She was fair and honest, he would still get to see plenty of his beautiful kid, and he would probably get to keep Sumo with him. They could make it work, right?

Through dinner, they acted like everything was normal in front of Cole. Still giving each other sarcastic remarks, but the blows were a little softer than they had been lately. It was relieving for Hank, almost like they could just keep making it work forever, even though he knew it wouldn’t last. They sat with Cole at the kitchen table before he went to bed, helping him pick out colored pencils to draw a nice little card for Connor. It wasn’t anything too fancy, just folded copy paper and his usual first-grader doodles, but he made sure to absolutely fill the space with happy, little bugs and oval-shaped animals.

In the morning, Hank put Cole on the bus as usual, with Miriam already gone to work. He asked if Cole wanted to take the day off, but he seemed a little more like his usual self as they ate breakfast. He wanted to go to school, and Hank couldn’t blame him for wanting something to take his mind off it.

The bus pulled away, and he waited until it was out of sight before going inside to fill Sumo’s water bowl, and grabbed his car keys. Chris updated him that night to tell him which hospital the ambulance went to, but he still didn’t know much beyond the brief diagnosis he overheard. He was probably out of any surgeries by now, maybe even awake.

On his way, he grabbed some coffees and egg sandwiches to offer, speculating based on experience that both brothers stayed there overnight. He needed to offer more than just a ‘thank you’ and a flimsy card. There had to be something he could for them, to somehow prove to the universe that he deserved the blessing of his son being safe and sound.

He went to the front counter, meeting the tired eyes of the attendant there. “Excuse me, I’m looking for a Connor Arkait?”

The older woman nodded and checked her computer screen, “Visitors are limited... how do you know him, sir?”

Hank took in a breath and pulled out his ID and badge, “He, uh, saved my son from getting hit by a car.”

She took a long glance at the plastic card before nodding and directing him, “He’s in Room 51 in the post-op wing. Go ahead.”

“Thanks,” he nodded to her, his feet carrying him down the sterile, white halls to find the room. He got lost once, redirected by a rather frazzled nurse, and froze just outside the door. Inside, there were some quiet voices talking, so he knocked before entering.

“Hello?”

To his immense relief, both brothers were there, and awake. The mark on Connor’s face didn’t look much better, and a leg and an arm were both in casts, but he looked pretty comfortable. No doubt from a lot of painkillers.

“Oh, you’re-” Niles stood up for a moment, looking back and forth between his brother and the visitor. “This is, uh, this is the boy’s father.”

From the hospital bed, Connor smiled, smiled at him, and Hank could feel an odd chill through his chest. It was odd, because he didn’t expect it to put him so at ease. But it did.

“Is he all right?”

The question punched the breath from Hank’s lungs, “Yeah, uh… Cole’s perfectly fine. Even went to school this morning.” He reached into his pocket as he stepped closer, suddenly very aware of his racing pulse. “He made you this.”

With his free hand, Connor reached up to retrieve the card. His fingers deftly opened it after he read the front, still smiling, and a little sparkle in his eyes as he scanned the unevely written letters. 

“O-oh,” he held the paper a little too hard, crinkling it, before a soft hiccup came from him. He set the card down so he could cover his mouth, then used the back of his hand to wipe his eyes.

“It’s okay, Connor,” his brother comforted, and Hank sat mirrored to him on either side of the bed.

Connor looked over to Hank, his big, brown eyes so deep and full of relief. “I’m just very glad he’s all right,” he glanced down at the card again for a moment. “Cole, you said? Please, tell him I love the card. And, thank you for coming.” His brother nodded in agreement, and Hank felt a little calmer

“Oh, before I forget,” he reached into the paper bag, pulling out a big cup of coffee and offered it across the bed for Niles, who took it happily. Then the two bagel sandwiches, “I know hospital food is shit. Are you allowed to eat yet, Connor?”

The young man nodded, patient as Hank half-unwrapped the sandwich, their fingers touching briefly as he gave it to him. Connor’s eyes rolled back with just one bite. 

“If there is anything else I can help you both with, don’t hesitate, all right?” He gave Niles a slip of paper with his phone number, “I work weird hours, so I may not reply right away, but just let me know.”

“Thank you,” Niles said.

Connor said the same, giving Hank a soft look. “Maybe when I’m looking a little better, I’d love to meet Cole. I’m sure he’s still a little scared from what happened, and maybe seeing that I'm okay will help with that?”

“That would be… yeah, that would be great.” He checked his phone, internally kicking himself. “Shit, I have to go to work now. But keep me posted with how it’s going, yeah?”

“I will,” Niles said, standing up as well to walk him to the door. “Thank you again-” he glanced down at the slip of paper, “-Hank.”

“No problem, take care.”

Work was busy, but thankfully it was mostly with paperwork. Hank didn’t think he could handle going to a homicide today anyway, and maybe they’d let Reed handle it, since word usually traveled fast around the bullpen. Several officers expressed their concern, happy to hear Cole was okay. Even Fowler called him into his office, and the long-time friends talked for nearly an hour through Hank’s lunch break about what was going on.

“So, Miriam and I are going to get divorced,” he said, and Jeff gave him a look. “Not now , obviously, but soon. Been a long time coming.”

“Damn, Hank.” Jeff leaned back in his chair, “You all right?”

He shrugged, “We just disagree too much, ya know? And with Cole getting bigger every day, now is as good a time as any. I’ll need some time off to move, we’ll work out a schedule for when I get to see him.” A headache started to creep along, and he pinched the bridge of his nose just thinking about all that needed to be done. “Ya know, I visited the man who saved him in the hospital this morning. He wants to meet Cole, make him feel better about the whole thing. Still can’t believe any of it happened.”

Jeff gave a little huff of a laugh, “Funny, when Miller told me what happened, I thought the name sounded familiar. He applied to work on the forensics team a couple of months ago.”

“What?” Hank nearly choked.

“Kid wants to switch career paths, apparently. He’s been a bank teller for years, but went to night school for criminal justice. Wasn’t sure about bringing him on, but I’d reconsider him if you’re willing to vouch as a personal reference. Sounds like he’s got the kind of attitude that we look for around here.”

“I’ll say,” the lieutenant said, his eyes drifting toward nothing in particular. “Yeah, I’ll give him my endorsement. 

Jeff smiled crookedly to him, “Let me know when he’s out of the hospital, and I’ll give him a call.”

“Thanks, Cap’n.”

The day trudged on after that, and he was exhausted by the time he got home, just as Cole was getting ready for bed. He told him that Connor was doing okay, that he loved the card a lot and wanted to meet Cole. Miriam even smiled when Cole’s face lit up, and the two of them kissed him goodnight.

When Hank got up in the middle of the night to take a leak, he saw a message from an unknown phone number.

xxx-xxx-xxxx, 11:46pm : Hello Hank, this is Niles. I just wanted to give you an update on Connor’s condition. As you know, he had surgery when he was brought in. He has two broken ribs, his arm and leg were fractured, and a concussion.

Unfortunately, that last area has gotten a bit worse. That sandwich didn’t last long, I regret to report, and he had a seizure about an hour ago.

Hank ran a hand through his hair as he leaned on the bathroom sink.

The doctors said it shouldn’t be a long term problem, it’s just because of the trauma to his head, but they’ve got him in an ICU now.

xxx-xxx-xxxx, 11:48pm: I had to go home, I need to go to work tomorrow, but I would be very grateful if you have time to visit him and see how he is doing when you can. Maybe relay any updates to me?  

He replied a little slowly, working through what to say as his tired brain tried to catch up.

Hank: Hey Niles. I can visit him in the morning, same time I did yesterday. If you get this before then, let me know if I should bring him any books or anything, if he can have stuff like that. I’d be happy to give you an update when I go.

Message sent, he went back to bed, but it was tough to fall back to sleep.

It was Saturday morning, so instead of seeing Cole off to the bus, he found the kid in the living room watching cartoons with some toaster pastries and a glass of milk. He let Sumo out into the backyard before joining Cole on the couch, waiting for the coffee to brew.

“Mornin’, bud.”

“Hi daddy,” Cole smiled a little scooting over to give his father some room to sit. “Spongebob is on!”

Hank chuckled, “I see that.” He settled in, waiting for a commercial break before speaking again. “So, I’m going to go visit Connor in the hospital again this morning. Wanna draw him another picture?”

“Can I come with you this time?”

He clenched his jaw, “Awwww Cole, I wish you could. He still isn’t feeling very good, it might be better if you wait until he is out of the hospital. But then, we’ll invite him over for dinner, yeah?”

The kid didn’t seem fully satisfied by that answer, so damn smart for his age, and he probably knew that meant things were bad. But, he didn’t ask any more questions, pulling out some of his coloring books and got to work. Hank enjoyed his cup of coffee, leaving a note for Miriam on the fridge, and got dressed to go. He didn't get anything back from Niles, but then again, it was pretty early in the morning.

When he came back out, Cole happily gave him the torn out pages of the police-themed coloring book he got at the DPD family picnic last summer. One of the officers in the picture had greying hair and a beard, obviously meant to be him. “Thanks, Cole. Can you let Sumo back in? I gotta take off.” He picked Cole up, giving him a kiss goodbye.

“See you later, daddy! I love you!”

“Love you too, Cole.” 

He held him a little tighter, still a little overwhelmed with how thankful he was that Cole was here, coloring in their living room, and not in the hospital. Or worse.

Saturday morning traffic was nearly nonexistent, and he got to the hospital earlier than he expected. He checked in, asking about Connor’s new room. He ran into one of the nurses there, who told him Connor was asleep last time she checked. It didn’t matter, he was happy to just sit there for a while so he wasn’t alone.

But when he walked in, Connor had actually woken, though he looked incredibly more exhausted than the day before.

“Hey Connor,” he greeted quietly, and was met with a weak nod.

“Hello,” he replied. “Did Niles message you?”

Hank frowned, “Yeah, he did. I’m really sorry to hear that, ya know?”

Connor just shrugged a little, breathing in deeply as he closed his eyes, as if dizzy. “I’m not feeling great, mostly just restless. At least I had a lot of vacation time saved up at work.”

“Brought you something,” Hank said, hoping to distract the forlorn man. He took out the colored pages, “I heard you wanna work for the police department.”

Brown eyes widened a little, “How did you know that?”

“I’m a lieutenant, and my captain heard about what happened, and recognized your name from his list of applications.” 

The drawings were temporarily forgotten, and Connor looked at him curiously. “H-he did?”

“Can’t promise anything, but once you get checked out of the hospital, maybe watch your phone for a call from the precinct office.”

And there it was, that damn, pretty smile again. It was a little more reserved, hesitant, but it gave Hank that same, strange feeling in his chest again. “O-oh my god!” He tried to sit up more, straining to, so Hank reached down and helped him. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate that!”

“I happen to work in homicide, actually. So you’ve got a friend on the inside if you need it,” He fixed the curls that dripped over Connor’s eyes, clearing his throat as he realized he might’ve overstepped. “But uh… Captain Fowler was impressed with what you did, thinks it shows a lot about you.” 

Connor hummed, "That’s very kind.” His brows creased, something clearly going through his mind. “Hey, Hank? Can I ask you something rather personal?”

Hank gave him a nod, a little concerned at the vagueness.

“Well, the uh… the reason I saw Cole, and ran to him, is because I heard you and your wife arguing from across the street just before.” He gave Hank an apologetic look, “I know it’s not my place, or anything, but it sounded-” he swallowed. “Things didn’t sound good, is all.”

Hank shuddered in embarrassment; he never realized they had been arguing so loudly. His face flushed, and he rubbed at his neck and shoulder as he tried to formulate the words to explain it. 

Might as well be honest, right?

“My wife and I… things haven’t been good for a while. Once Cole seems a little more stable after all of this, we’re going to file for divorce.”

Connor’s mouth was agape, “I-I’m sorry for asking! I promise not to say anything, and I-”

“No, no it's fine.” Hank raised his hands, reassuring Connor so he wouldn’t over-stress himself. “It’s been bad for a while, that day happened to be the breaking point.” His lips pinched, rolling inward as if he was biting them. “Sorry you had to hear all that, and see it.”

No wonder Cole got out of the car, wanting to get away from all of that. If Connor was that far and noticed...

“Will he be okay?” Connor asked, and then followed it up a little more worriedly. “Will you be okay?”

He feigned a decent smile, despite his brain screaming with the fear of uncertainty. “Yeah, we'll be fine.”

“Okay… okay.”

He was there for a couple of hours, talking with Connor, listening to the nurses give their explanations and transcribing them as best he could to tell Niles over text. 

It was a routine that he continued as often as he could through the rest of the week, feeling a little lighter as Connor steadily improved. His face healed up well, (and Hank would be lying to himself if he denied how attractive Connor was), his arm and leg each in braces until he was discharged. He would be discharged, but wouldn’t be “good as new” until after almost a month or so.

Hank and Miriam had begun discussing the terms of their divorce, both in and out of their lawyer’s office. Hank would get Cole every other weekend, or if Miriam ever needed the evening to do something. He would keep Sumo with him. They would sell the house, each downsizing appropriately. Hank would give Miriam a monthly stipend to help with Cole, she could handle her own housing and other finances.

They planned to tell Cole after they had Connor over for dinner, and Miriam was intrigued to finally meet this mystery person who saved their child’s life. Hank refrained to mention anything about the DPD hiring him, making a mental note to tell Connor not to bring it up.

Two weeks after the incident, he got a text from Niles asking if Hank could drive Connor home from the hospital, since he was due to check out when Niles was scheduled to work.

No problem , Hank told him. And in all honesty, he was happy to.

So, early on a Friday morning, the day before they planned to have Connor over for dinner, Hank cleaned out his junky station wagon, and parked by the hospital entrance.

Niles had brought Connor some of his own clothes, and Hank tried to suppress the blush on his cheeks when he was escorted out of the automatic doors. His hospital gown replaced with jeans, a white tee and a loose, pink button-up.

He was damn cute. Hank knew he wasn’t just in trouble, he was already waist-deep in it.

“Thanks for picking me up, Hank,” Connor smiled at him, climbing into the passenger seat, smiling shyly as Hank closed the door for him.

He slid into the driver’s seat, heat burning under the collar of his shirt, “So, Niles gave me your address. You need to stop anywhere first?”

Connor shook his head, “He’s been feeding my fish, took care of restocking whatever went bad in my fridge. But thank you,” he said, and looked around the car with interest. “I’m looking forward to dinner tomorrow. Niles said he could drop me off, if you could bring me home. I still can’t drive for another week or so.”

“Of course, yeah. Five-thirty still good?”

“Mmhmm,” he hummed. He seemed a little more at ease than he had been in the hospital, and Hank couldn’t really blame him. He’d done his fair share of being trapped in a room that smelled like cleaning fluid after some bad scrapes at work, not nearly as long as the two weeks Connor had to endure it. Connor was certainly in better spirits, but still clearly exhausted, trying hard to hide how much effort it was just to buckle himself in.

When they pulled up to the little duplex, Hank felt relieved that the kid didn’t have to climb up more than just a flight of stairs. As it was, he had to stop half-way up to catch his breath, and Hank stayed close by. It was a modest little place; the living room felt more like an office, with a large fish tank on the wall perpendicular to the messy desk.

“Nice place,” Hank commented, looking around. “Just you, right? No roommates?”

“Just me,” Connor said. “Niles used to live here too, but now he lives with his boyfriend across town. I want to move since this place doesn’t allow dogs.”

He knew Connor mentioned liking dogs before, despite never having one himself. He seemed incredibly happy looking at Hank’s collection of pictures of Sumo, especially from when he was a little puppy.

“Shit, that reminds me: I gotta start looking for a new place, too.”

Connor settled down onto the small loveseat, and thanked Hank as he brought him a cup of water. 

“I’m going to take off, need anything else?”

“No, you’ve already done more than enough for me,” Connor insisted. “Thank you, Hank, for everything.”

Hank smiled, “I mean what I said, I’m happy to help you out if you need it. You’re a good egg, Connor. I’m looking forward to seeing you at the precinct one of these days.”

He left after some short goodbyes, sat down in his car, feeling something in his gut rise up to his throat. Why should he be nervous? Connor was fine, nearly normal again, but something lingered in Hank's mind. Something like worry.

Something protective, and warm.

He stewed in it most of the night while he hung out with Cole, preparing a roast to marinate overnight. 

Even Miriam noticed, much to his absolute displeasure.

For all intents and purposes, they were still married. It was still something ; they still slept together, changed together, but it wasn't touchy-feely now. 

"What's gotten your goat?" She was already tucked in, scrolling through her tablet with her readers on. 

"Huh?" Hank replied, trying to play dumb to get out of tonight's game of 'twenty questions'.

"Oooooh yes, something is on your mind," she teased. "You can tell me, you know."

Hank snorted, "Bold of you to assume I would tell you if there was."

She set the tablet down, removed her glasses and crossed her arms. "What's her name?"

"Excuse me?!"

" His name?"

He grimaced, eyes closing and shaking his head, "What are you talking about?"

Proudly, Mirian set her things on the end table, rolling over to get comfortable. "Well, good luck with whatever it is. G'night, Henry."

"Good night, Miri."

He definitely wasn't thinking about Connor as he fell asleep. Not his dumb smile, or goofy hair, or annoyingly, inviting brown eyes. That voice definitely didn't soothe his dreams.

Hank was a moron for thinking he could fool himself that something wasn’t blooming in his heart.

----

Niles didn't bother knocking on Connor's door. He even still had his own set of keys to the place, and his brother knew he was coming.

He noticed a few things when he entered the apartment: all the lights were off except for Connor's bedroom, a handful of outfits were laid across the bed, and Connor was nowhere to be seen in his immediate view of the room.

"Connor?"

A noise came from the other side of the bed, and Niles stepped quickly around it with a heavy heart. "Hey… Con?"

His brother looked up, wiping his face with the heel of his palm. "Oh, hi Niles."

"Bad brain day?"

Connor sighed, leaned his head back against the bed frame. "Of all the days, had to be this one." He was helped up from the floor, and he leaned on the bed for a moment. "I'll be fine, just need to get dressed."

"You sure you wanna do this today?" Niles asked, and he picked one of the outfits as he helped Connor remove the loose sleep shirt and pants. "They would understand if you need to reschedule."

He shook his head, "No, I do want to go.” He looked over to see Niles bite the inside of his cheek in concern. “I do! Really I do, I’m just nervous about it.” Down to his boxer briefs, he eyed the selected clothes again.

“Why are you nervous? I thought you said you liked Hank?”

“It isn’t him! No, I’m excited to see him, and Cole, it’s- well, it’s his wife.” A sigh rolled over his lips as Niles pulled a thin, white t-shirt over his head and shoulders.

The taller brother clicked his tongue, “Oh, right. That fight…”

“Yeah,” Connor exhaled, wincing as he wiggled his injured arm through the sleeve of the short-sleeve shirt. His favorite one, which is probably why Niles picked it. Clean, slate-grey in color with subtle blue thread at the seams.

“Now, let’s do something with that hair.”

He rolled his eyes, “I’m not worried about my hair .”

“No, but,” Niles grabbed a bottle of mousse from the top of the dresser, working it carefully through Connor’s subtle curls to keep them like that. “It always looks better when you worry about this , and not things that can’t control.”

Connor held his breath, then pouted a little. “Just because you’re older, it doesn’t mean you have to remind me how wise you are. I already know that,” he said, sticking out his tongue. 

The hair was tossed around a little bit more, and then Niles moved around to check how it looked at various angles. “I think that’ll work,” he said, before leaving to go to the bathroom to wash off his hands. “Grab your phone and wallet, and let’s get you over there.”

Sometimes, Connor forgot how much easier things seemed when Niles was around. He was much more confident, and smart, but he relied on Connor for other things, like remembering dates and not burning down the apartment when cooking. Niles approached things with so much more assurity, well… it just helped.

“By the way, we have our tattoo appointment on the first of next month. Still wanna go to Carl’s?” He collected his things and started to slide on his shoes to head out. 

“Oh, perfect. I’ll remind Gavin to figure out what he wants to get. He said he’s been looking through Markus’s instagram account.”

They reconvened in the hallway, a brief nod that exchanged ‘ ready to go’ to one another. 

Connor navigated as Niles drove, crossing across the city to the pretty suburbs that Hank lived in, big backyards and newly-paved sidewalks, and Hank’s house was at the end of a slightly longer driveway. The car pulled up, and with the windows open, they could already hear the barking of a dog from inside, and Niles relaxed when he saw Connor smile.

“Have fun, and make sure you take your next medication dose after you eat.”

“Yes, mom ,” Connor mocked gently, patting his jeans pocket where he kept a small, antique pill box. It looked like painted porcelain, but it was actually just wood with a heavy lacquer, and sterling silver hinges. 

Though Amanda was gone, they had little things to remember her by. 

“Message me when they bring you home, all right? Don’t worry about waking me up, I’m on the overnight shift.”

Connor opened the door, stepping out but stopped before shutting the door. “I’m thinking of moving out of the duplex, by the way.”

“The stairs finally do you in?” Niles joked.

“Eh,” Connor just shrugged, “I think I’m ready to get a dog after wanting it for so long. This week reminded me how lonely that place can feel.”

Niles gave a bob of his head, “Sorry, I know I said I would get my shit out of my room. Gavin and I need to save up another year before we can get a house, but I can keep that stuff in his mom’s basement in the meantime.”

“Thanks again, Niles. For everything, ya know?”

His brother waved, shifting into reverse to get out of the driveway. Connor turned to the house, and was surprised to see the front door start to open, close, and then reopen to reveal Hank holding back a large dog. “Hey Connor! Sorry, Sumo’s just excited. C’mon in!”

He walked up to the entrance, closing the door behind him once inside, and Hank kept a hold on Sumo to keep him from jumping up. “He will try to put his paws up, just give him a minute to calm down before trying to pet him.”

“Okay,” Connor gave an amused hum, taking off his shoes. He noticed that Hank was barefoot with khaki shorts. He looked… good.

There was the sound of small feet on the stairs, and a sandy-blond kid ran right into Connor from around the corner. Thankfully he moved his arm out to steady himself, but Cole pressed himself against the still-weak leg, and he nearly fell over if Hank not been standing so close. He helped Connor straighten up, and he looked down to see the kid hugging him tight. 

"Hi Cole," Connor said, unsure what to do with his hands. Hank gave him an affirming nod, so he let his good arm ease down and around the small shoulder. "It's very nice to meet you."

"Did daddy give you my drawings?"

"Yes," he grinned. "Thank you so much. I was really happy to get them!"

Cole motioned for Connor to follow, which he did with a delighted smile, to the living room where a bunch of coloring books were laid out. "Dinner isn't ready yet, so we were coloring while we waited for you!"

Before Connor could sit down on the couch, Hank's wife entered from another room. "You must be Connor, it's so nice to meet you." They shook hands briefly, "I'm just about done, go ahead and sit for a few minutes." 

"Nice to meet you too, thank you for having me over." 

Cole tugged on his shirt, "Which book do you want?"

He ended up picking the fairytale one, and Cole gave him the "nice" box of crayons, which apparently meant that it was the biggest. The whole ordeal was rather adorable, and he was thankful for the distraction for the time being. He wasn't asked too many difficult questions, not that he expected to since Cole was only six, but even so. 

They got several pages done when Connor realized he didn't know where Hank went, until he saw the man come in through a door that lead to the yard. "Sumo still hasn't cooled his jets, he'll be fine out there for a little while so we can eat in peace."

Each plate had a few slices of a roast, some mashed potatoes and carrots. He was offered some beer to go with it, but he had to decline because of the medication he had to take later.

"So, Connor, what do you do for a living?" Miriam asked.

He thought about what Hank told him of his application, and looked over to see him put a finger over his lips.

"Banking, although, I'd like to get out of it one day. Just not sure what." 

She sipped on her glass of wine, "Can't blame you, I had a cousin that worked with mortgages for a decade."

"Ahhh, I see. I don't really have much first hand experience with those," Connor said. "Just what I learned in school, but that feels so long ago."

"Still renting?" Miriam asked, "I don't miss that one bit."

Connor wasn't much one for small talk, always nervous about saying too much. He wanted to eat, but he forced himself to keep up. "I'm hoping to move fairly soon," he offered as he took a large bite.

"I could recommend some people, when I had the house appraised last week they-"

"Huh?"

Everyone went silent, and Miriam covered her mouth as she looked over at Cole.

"What does 'app-raised' mean? What’s wrong with the house?”

Hank, who had been fairly silent the whole time, gave a pinched glare at Miriam. "Let's tell him later," he said.

But Cole looked at him with the same face, and it didn't look like he was satisfied with that answer. The two parents looked uneasy, like they just wanted to say something more.

A chair skidded against the wood floor, Connor standing, "Please excuse me, I’ll be right back." He knew when to take a hint, and made his exit from the dining room. After stepping into the hall, he’s not even sure where to go, just hoping to find a bathroom to disappear ino for a moment.

It wasn't his place to be there right now. And he just…  needed a moment, anyway. 

After padding quietly away from the dining room, he managed to find a simple half-bath, and sat down on the wooden toilet lid with the door closed.

Fuck. Talk about worst-case scenario, the only comfort being that he wasn't the cause of it, he just happened to be there. 

He couldn't hear much from the bathroom, so he pulled out his phone to pass the time for a few minutes, and then he would open the door to check. A recent email told him his application with the DPD had been processed. It didn't even feel real, despite clearly saying it right there. 

Going back to school had been so hard, and it was finally paying off in some weird, roundabout way.

He deleted some spam emails, and then opened the bathroom door just a little to try and listen. It was quiet, he waited another couple of minutes before creeping back out, and ended up meeting eyes with Hank on his way.

The man stood rather still, face a little red, "Hey, Cole went upstairs. I'm really sorry, I think we-"

Connor raised his good hand, "It's fine, really. I can take a cab home.”

"No, I can drive you." Hank sighed, the sudden tiredness coming through in his voice. "Want me to throw some food in a container for you?”

"No, it's all right. I should just go."

He received a nod, and Hank disappeared for a minute to, as Connor presumed, tell his soon-to-be ex that he would be back soon.

Connor found himself, once again, riding in the man’s old car. Music immediately blasted over the stereo, and Hank brought it to a manageable level and left it playing to fill the car with sound. 

The ride went like that, and Connor felt heavy as they got closer and closer. Just before turning onto his street, Connor reached over to turn off the music.

"Do you want to stay for a few minutes? If you don't need go hurry back?"

Hank took a moment to think it over, his final decision evident when he shut off the engine and pulled the keys out. "I want to make sure you get up the stairs anyway, so sure."

When they got up, Connor offered him a drink, something to keep him so they could chat for a few minutes. It may have been only six in the afternoon already, but Hank wasn't about to say no to a cup of coffee. Connor started up a fresh pot, digging through his fridge to find something to eat.

"So, you’re gonna move?" Hank asked, leaning on the archway into the kitchen.

"I'd like to," he said. "Niles needs to clean out his old room first. And, if I get the position at the precinct, I can afford something a little better. Maybe even buy a small starter home, I have quite a bit of money in savings." 

"Oh yeah?" Hank cleared his throat. "Well, like she said, we're selling our place. I really gotta start looking."

The pot burbled as it finished brewing, and Connor poured both of them a cup, giving each a decent splash of milk. He watched Hank chug nearly half of his mug.

"Cole took it way too well. Goes to show just how obvious we've been, I feel like a piece of shit."

Connor frowned, "Oh, Hank."

"It's not right, ya know? He is gonna need fuckin' therapy for it in like ten years, on top of seeing his life flash before his eyes." 

"At least it’s not physical therapy on top of it."

"Hmm… cheers to that." 

The coffee wasn't quite enough to wake Connor up from the slight daze of exhaustion. His fluttering lashes of sleepiness were caught, especially when it was followed by a yawn.

"Go ahead and get some rest, I can see myself out." 

Connor took their empty mugs and placed them in the sink, "Please tell Cole I would like to color with him again sometime."

"Sure thing," Hank smirked. "He'll like that.”

He saw Hank out the door, and then managed to drag himself to his bed. Not bothering to take off his clothes, and his shoes and socks already kicked off, he settled into the pillows to just take a quick rest.

Connor looked around the living room of the Anderson household. No one was around, but it didn't seem to be important. He had been coloring, but nothing seemed to look right, the colors shifting when he tried to correct the green of the grass and the blue of the sky. 

He heard someone talking behind him. He didn’t want to turn to it, almost afraid to.

The voice morphed, it was Hank.

He sounded upset, crying.

"Hank?" The sound of himself sounded weirdly hollow, so foreign. 

Connor tried to stand, but felt a weight settle over him with the crack of a gun going off.

Falling. He was falling straight backward and went past the floor, continued plummeting, pressure all over his body as gravity pulled him down… 

"HANK!?"

He woke up in his room, surrounded by nothing but darkness and quiet.

His whole body ached .

He forgot to take the meds. 

Connor bit through the heavy soreness, taking several tries to get himself just sitting upright, whining through deep breaths. He had some paper cups in the bathroom, which was closer than trying to get water all the way in the kitchen.

Slowly, he stumbled onto his feet. "Shit-damnit-fuck” he mumbled when he hit his shoulder into the wall on his way. 

He slapped at the light switch, the light so bright he had to shut his eyes. He lost track of time standing there before he felt himself nearly topple forward and he straightened up, startled.

Holding the cup under the faucet, he accidentally let it overfill, and set it on the counter as he dug the little pill holder out. He threw them back, gulping the water, and then eased down to sit on the floor. 

He felt his phone vibrate from his pocket, cursing again as he strained to lift his hips, and check the screen.

Missed calls, dozens of messages.

He hit call back and pressed speaker.

It rang twice before he heard his brother frantically call his name.

"I'm sorry, Niles. I'm home, I'm safe."

" It's nearly one in the morning!! I was about to drive over there!"

Connor shuddered uncomfortably, "Dinner didn't go well. I came home early and fell asleep, I didn't mean to make you worry." His head swam, the painkillers had a while yet before they would kick in. "Ahhh, damnit," he hissed. 

"Did you take your pills?"

"Only just," he breathed ragged. His brother sighed on the other end, more empathetic than upset. 

" I can't swing by until tomorrow night, you know. Will you be ok until then?"

"Yeah, yeah I'll be fine." He felt so weak, "Is it bad that I'd rather just sit here on the floor than go back to bed?"

"You really shouldn't."

"Yeah," Connor hoisted himself up, moving only as fast as his body allowed. "I'm going back into bed. I'll message you when I get up, okay?"

"Please do. Get some rest, we'll talk tomorrow," Niles wished, papers shuffling in the background. 

"G' night, Niles."

Maybe this time he wouldn't have a fucking terrifying dream, but this medication had been reacting weirdly with him. With no alarm set, he stripped down and curled up in the sheets, ready to sleep as long as his body would let him.

--

The divorce process started slowly, and then ramped up before Hank even realized it. The house was up for sale, the paperwork signed and processing, but he still hadn't found somewhere to go.

Between work, trying to spend a decent amount of time with Cole without bothering Miriam, he didn't have time for much else. He exchanged a few messages with Connor here and there, just to check on him. Poor kid had to go back to work already, wearing elastic braces on three of his joints, hidden beneath his work attire. 

When Hank mentioned he was getting burnt out, Connor had offered to have him over for dinner when they both had a night free. Even stay over for the night, if he wanted.

Well, Hank couldn't say no. He needed it.

So on a Tuesday evening, with the next day off from work, he drove himself to the duplex with a box of pizza and a bottle of whiskey, ready to just have a low-key night of watching movies and drinking.

Connor let him in with a warm smile. He looked better than he did the last time they saw one another. He was able to move around without getting winded so easily, but was still walking with a slight limp.

"I bought some mixers, if you want any. Need a plate for your pizza?"

Hank set his offerings on the small coffee table, "I think they gave us some paper plates, I'll take a glass though."

He heard clinking and rustling as he opened the box from his favorite pizzeria, popular for the herbed breadcrumbs baked into the crust. "It smells good," Connor remarked as he came in, holding two glasses and a can of cola. "Thanks for bringing dinner."

"Thanks for lending me your couch for the night. It's been a tough few weeks,” he said with a sideways grimace, and Connor agreed with a slight nod. Hank poured each of them a shot's worth of liquor into each glass, "Needed one of these all week."

They each threw back the strong liquid, Connor coughed from the burn as it went down. They did one more before digging into the pizza.

"So, have you found a place yet?"

Hank groaned, "Fuuuuuck."

"I'll take that as a no," Connor commented, worriedly. "You know, I haven't been looking either. I wanted to propose an idea to you."

"What kinda idea?" Brows raised, Hank took a third helping of whiskey. 

"Well," Connor slid his glass over to be refilled. "Would you be opposed to a roommate? I would happily give a safety deposit for a room, which you can use for the deposit on a house. And, I can pay you rent to help with the mortgage."

He was given a chuckle, like Hank thought he was joking or something, but it died down fairly quickly. "You serious?"

"Why not?" He asked. "I could walk Sumo when you aren't home, we can carpool if I ever get that position at the precinct."

It sounded tempting, good even, but Hank wasn't quite as convinced. "Not sure why you'd wanna shack up with a fuckup like me."

Connor looked at him in earnest, as if insulted on his behalf. "I think you're a wonderful man, Hank." He moved a little closer, close enough that Hank could practically smell the whisper of alcohol on his breath. "Is that so hard to believe?"

He frowned as Connor leaned closer, hands hovering to push him away, but just couldn't do so. "If I had been paying attention to my kid, you never would've gotten hurt."

"But then I never would've met you," Connor rebutted "You didn’t have to come visit, or help care for me, but you did.”

The couch was only so big, so Hank couldn't retreat much further without getting up, so he just froze in absolute surprise as Connor, with pink cheeks and half-lidded eyes, threatened his personal space with soft lips. 

"Shit-" he uttered ever-so quietly before they made contact with his mouth, something bursting from his chest that was so warm that all he could do was let instincts take over. 

God, he wasn’t even officially divorced and already had some hot, young thing throwing himself at him with just a bit of liquid courage. When did that ever happen? To him ? A part of Hank told him that he shouldn't allow it, especially if he was serious about living together. 

And yet… Hank hadn't felt so loved in a long time. Things had started to fall apart before Cole was even born, though the signs weren't very clear at the time. He missed having his jaw stroked with such reverence, his eyes gazed into like this. 

"Woahhhh slow down there, Con," he pushed gently on Connor's chest, who didn't seem very put off by it. "Let's talk about this when we're both sober."

The brunet made a noise, which went right to Hank's pants, "Do you even know how long I've waited to do that?" His tongue flicked out to moisten his lips, “Too long.”

"Still," Hank tried to protest, but lost, the young man zeroing in on him again. He hummed into the kiss, this one more languid and deep, the muscles of Connor's face working ever so minutely to send shivers down Hank’s spine. 

He expected Connor to try to climb onto his lap, realizing somewhere in his rattled brain that he probably would if he weren't still in recovery. It was clear he had wanted to try, but Hank peeked his eyes open to see Connor wince as he tried to move forward. 

If this was happening, and fuck if he was going to try and stop it now, he didn't want the guy to strain himself. If anything, he owed him that much of a courtesy. 

"Hey," he spoke in a low voice in Connor's ear. "Lean back, let me take care of you."

It was cute to see how flustered Connor got the second the tables were turned, especially when Hank balanced himself with his knee planted between those lean thighs. His soft gasps for breath were warm on Hank’s face, especially when Hank had his bulk pressing down on him.

Connor squeaked, turning his head with his lower lip crushed between his teeth; warmth flooded Hank's veins. "That good?" He asked low and smoothly.

His hips rocked up from the cushions, rushed, shaking with desperation. "F-fuck, oh fuck."

It was a good thing this was at Connor's place, because Hank wanted to laugh at how loud they both were, just from making out. It made Hank kind of wonder about his previous lovers, maybe it was just that Connor made him more vocal? Something nagged at the back of his mind, though, and Hank needed to ask before they went any further. If they were going further tonight.

He eased away, and could see the sudden fear in Connor's eyes. "Sorry… just need to… slow down." He panted, touching their foreheads. "I don't think I can fuckin’ handle doing much more than this. For now, ya know?"

Beneath him, Connor relaxed, and pulled him in tightly to bury his face into Hank's shirt, "Me either, actually. I've never, uhhh- been with a guy before." They stayed there for a few moments longer, catching their breaths, before Connor raised his chin to speak into Hank's ear. "Is there anything I can do for you?" He asked sweetly. 

"Hmmm," he kissed the tip of Connor's nose. "Are you serious about buying a place together? I mean, this part doesn't need to rush or anything, you know."

"Yes, I’m sure. I really want this, I want you.”

---

A lot happened all at once, and Hank was thankful that he got a couple of weeks off to deal with the whirlwind of it all.

Combined with what Connor could offer from his savings, and what Hank could manage, they found a nice little two-bedroom place for cheap. It needed some work done, but it had a good, fenced in yard for Sumo, and a small garage. 

Hank started to move some of his stuff in as soon as they signed, just a few days before the court date to settle the divorce. Cole spent the weekend at his friend's house, while Connor started to move his own belongings in. 

It felt strange, not helping Connor with his stuff, but once he gave his landlord notice, he was on a much shorter timeline. At least his brother had time to help with the larger boxes and furniture.

The court date came, and the waiting took longer than the proceedings itself. Hank would get Cole certain evenings, weekends, and for agreed-upon holidays, and they would split expenses as needed. It went off without a hitch, both him and Miriam just ready to move on. He walked her to her car after they left the courthouse, giving each other quiet, resolved goodbyes.

Coming back to their not-completely shabby house with everything signed and stamped, Hank felt like a weight had lifted from his chest. It didn't hurt either that when he walked in, he saw a tired, shirtless Connor, sitting on the floor giving his St. Bernard the belly rub of a lifetime. 

"Welcome home," he greeted. "There's beer in the fridge; a present from Niles."

Hank smirked, shrugging off his jacket and letting the folder of documents flop loudly onto the desk that was set up by the window. “Could really use one of those right now… that’s a good look for you, by the way.”

His new housemate hummed, sitting up on the floor. “I should really take a shower, I feel gross after going back and forth all day. But, it feels good to be out of that apartment.”

Two beers were pulled from the fridge, the caps pried off, and Hank handed one to Connor. They tapped the bottles together, a short clink before they each took a long sip. “The landlord was around today, too, so I handed over my keys and he looked around for any damage. All that’s left is waiting for my deposit back.” He slowly stood up, moving closer to Hank to lay his head on the taller man’s shoulder. “How did everything go with you?”

“Eh, fine,” Hank said, letting his head rest on Connor’s and smelling the faint musk and sweetness of conditioner. “Once our house sells, I’ll get a pretty nice installment to put on this place. Miriam found a place for her and Cole, they’re going to a showing tomorrow when he gets out of school. It’s near one of his friend’s houses, I think, so I’m sure he’ll love it.”

“Is he doing okay? With all of this?”

Hank sighed, “Yeah, he’s been pretty good about all of this. I think once we get into a routine with visits and holidays he’ll get used to it. Long term, though, I don’t know… I wonder how he’ll handle it.”

“Don’t worry about that right now,” Connor suggested, giving him a nudge. “He knows you both love him, and it’ll help that Miriam is staying in the same area. He won’t have to switch schools, have his life uprooted so completely. That will help a lot.”

The drop in his tone made Hank wonder, and he leaned forward to get a read on Connor’s face. “Sounds like you have experience with that,” he said gently.

“Sort of. It helped to have Niles, but-”

“Would you be willing to talk to Cole about it? If he asked?”

Connor smiled, softening, “Of course. And if you ever need me to help care for him, like if work stuff comes up, I’d be happy to.” He sighs, “Do you think it’ll be, I don’t know, weird or confusing that we’re living together? For Cole?”

“Can’t say,” Hank says before another swig from his beer. “Miriam will find out soon enough, too. I don’t think I’m ready for that shitstorm.”

“Yeah… yikes,” Connor sighed, then perked up as he remembered something. “Oh! Captain Fowler called me earlier today, I have an interview next week.” 

Hank smiled, and looked over to see Connor beaming, “Is that so?” 

"Mmmhmm," Connor hummed pleasantly. "Do you really think I could get it?"

"Of course, darlin'."

At the name, Connor turned to Hank with wide, hopeful eyes, his face delicately cupped in one of Hank's hands. 

"You got this, ok? If anyone deserves it, it's you."