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Finally, finally, Connor had fallen asleep. It’d been a struggle with all of the excitement for Christmas day, but after going into Hank’s room, he’d considerably calmed down. Paired with sleeping beside him in his bed… it wasn’t long before he’d drifted off to sleep.
But now, apparently, the universe hated him. All he wanted in those moments was to be awake, because he was being wracked with the most merciless nightmare.
It was one of those awkward dreams where you knew it wasn’t real. Not at first, but at the point where you woke up in the dream and thought that was real… only for something completely nonsensical to happen.
In this case, it was Hank taking them to Chicken Feed, and then ordering a salad.
Okay, maybe that was a little salty of him, for that to make him realise it wasn’t reality: and maybe the nightmare to follow was karma in action.
After laughing at the side salad, Hank turned and stared at him. His eyes became cold, and Connor felt someone grabbing him from behind, tugging him backwards—
And he no longer had on his comfy new clothes. No, he was back in his old Cyberlife uniform.
“Why’d they make you look so goofy? Give you that weird voice?”
Connor had a horrible sense of de ja vu.
“Come on, I don’t want to relive this time of my life.”
“They fucked up.”
“Yeah, well… no you.”
Hank blinked, staring at him. Unimpressed.
“Excuse me?”
In the top right of his vision, he received a notification about his relationship with Hank. The alert was red and it went down so far that it took a few seconds to display. The new status said ‘Pissed Off’.
“I said, no you. Meaning that was a jab at your appearance. ‘cause you insulted mine.”
It changed again. ‘You Shouldn’t Have Said That’.
Hank threw the salad in his face. Some caught in his mouth and it tasted like shit.
After spluttering and changing his opinions on healthy food choices drastically, he finally opened his eyes—only to see they were someone different. They were in the Eden Club, except now the relationship status had changed to ‘Fuck You’.
He looked up from the crime scene to tell Hank his findings—
But Hank just flipped him off.
“Excuse me?”
“Fuck you.” Hank said. The status had been remarkably accurate.
He rolled his eyes. Whatever, he’d lived this before. He just had to go to the room with the red sign on it and—
Hank was leaving. Hank had actually got so pissed off at him, that he just decided to leave the scene.
“Uh, Lieutenant? We’re meant to be looking at the crime scene.”
“Fuck you.”
“Right. We need to do our jobs.”
Hank turned around, two middle fingers brandished. Without saying anything he still managed to tell Connor to fuck off.
“Alright. Can I investigate the scene by myself?”
The doors closed behind Hank.
He shook his head, turned around, and stumbled into a different area.
The Captain’s office. Fowler was saying something. They were off the case. Right, this meant he’d turn around to see—
Hank wasn’t even in the office. He was standing on the other side of the glass office, staring at Connor menacingly.
“Captain Fowler, Hank isn’t even in the office.”
“He doesn’t work here.”
“…is that legal?”
“Believe me, we’ve tried kicking him out. He just keeping respawning.”
“W-what?”
Fowler laughed loudly, staring off at something in the distance. “Did I say that? I meant… coming back in. Yes, he keeps coming back in. By the way, you’re fired too. Back to Cyberlife, buckaroo.”
Connor turned around, and suddenly Hank was right behind him, like a jump-scare in a low budget horror movie. He screamed and—
And was back in Hank’s bedroom, sitting up with wild eyes, LED racing yellow.
At the loud noise, Hank sat up too. He quickly turned to Connor, which didn’t help, only serving to make him scream again before holding a hand to his chest.
“Jesus christ—” Hank fumbled for the light switch. “Way to wake a guy up.”
Connor blinked, panting, realising he’d finally woken up from the nightmare. Which, whilst so many times less terrifying than previous nightmares… it still pissed him off.
“I’m okay…”
“Right, you better be. Uh, nightmare?”
“Yes. It was about you.”
“Gee, thanks.”
Connor rolled his eyes. “Don’t worry, it wasn’t traumatising, or anything. Not like… ones about you before.”
“Uh, good. Yeah, good. Sorry, I do mean to take you seriously.”
“Don’t bother this time. It really was quite a light-hearted nightmare.”
“How the hell is a nightmare light-hearted?”
“Well…” Connor went on to briefly explain nightmare Hank. By the end of the explanation, real Hank looked like he was trying not to laugh.
“I’m… ‘m sorry. It’s not funny.”
“No, it is. It’s fine.”
“God… You know I’ve only ever told you to fuck off in an endearing way, right? Like when you keep banging on about tinsel.”
“Of course. It’s part of your charm.”
Hank chuckled. “Right. But I’d never be rude to you. I mean, I probably did in the past but—won’t happen again. It is what you get for laughing at the fantasy of me eating a salad. Which is a fantasy when I go to the Chicken Feed, by the way. I’d never eat the salad they serve there. Cause they don’t.”
Connor smiled. This was nice. This was… right. Despite the chaos of the dream, he had started to feel a little sad over having Hank so annoyed with him. A relationship so irreparably damaged.
“But even then,” as if noticing his expression, Hank hastened to add, “I still wouldn’t push you away like that. Okay? ‘Fuck you’ Hank isn’t real.”
“I’m glad. He swore more than you do, and that’s saying something.”
Hank rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Now get to sleep, or we’re never gonna get to Christmas morning.”