Chapter Text
"Lieutenant," Connor says.
"It's Hank. I'm no lieutenant anymore."
"Hank." Connor tests the name on his tongue. It's different, but he can't say whether or not he prefers it.
Hank shifts awkwardly in the doorway, adjusting his grip on the cloth bag he's carrying. It's quite large. "Hi, uh… good to see you, Connor." A pause, long enough to be awkward. He coughs. "Sorry I killed you and all."
"It might've been for the best," Connor answers, stepping back to let Hank in. "It doesn't matter to me now, anyway. You weren't the only one to kill me. And you helped Nines, didn't you? It's fine."
Hank grumbles but sighs shortly, looking around. "So this is the new apartment you two got, huh?"
The unit is part of a recently renovated housing complex for androids, focused less on human needs and more on android needs. There is no kitchen, only one shared for the building, but there is an in-unit repair and maintenance station as well as a dispenser for thirium, activated via resident authentication. No toilet in unit—there is one on each floor—but there are sinks, showers, and laundry machines. The floor they're on is decently high, fifth of ten, and the windows offer a decent view of the city.
Nines appears around a corner, a gentle smile appearing on his face as he spots Connor and Hank. He does that much more easily now, and Connor… enjoys it. He thinks. He doesn't want to look away, or stop the strange warmth he feels when Nines directs that smile to him.
"Hank, you've arrived," Nines says.
"Yeah," Hank answers. "I brought some stuff." He lifts the bag up, gesturing at it vaguely.
Nines blinks, tilting his head. "That is unnecessary, but…"
Hank shakes his head, shoving the bag at Nines. "Consider it a, uh, housewarming gift," he says.
"Mm," Nines hums. "Thank you, Hank." He takes the bag and peers inside, LED spinning. After a moment, he smoothly pulls out a throw blanket, white in color with a pale green pattern of leaves. It also looks to be made of a fuzzy sort of material.
Nines sets the bag down and wraps the throw blanket around himself. He closes his eyes, running his fingers across the material.
Hank reaches towards him, stops. Nines opens his eyes and tilts his head at Hank, who then takes a breath before putting a hand on Nines's shoulder. He pulls Nines close, wrapping him in a hug. "I'm glad you're okay, Nines," he says.
Nines nods, reciprocating the hug with a tight squeeze. "Thank you, Hank."
They part, each with their own odd smiles, and Nines turns to Connor. "It's very soft," he says before gently grabbing Connor's hand and pressing it to the blanket.
It is indeed soft. Connor presses his fingers into the material, squeezing Nines's shoulder in the process.
"You seemed to like bundling up at my place," Hank says. He scratches his head. "There's one for you, too, Connor. I didn't really know what you'd like, but…"
Connor's LED spins. Unexpected. He kneels down to reach into the bag. His fingers close around softness, and he pulls out—another throw blanket, this time patterned with paw prints.
He finds a smile on his face. "Reminds me of Sumo," he says.
"You're welcome to come see him, if you want." Hank shifts his weight from foot to foot. "Or I can bring him over… or Nines—"
"I think I'd like to come visit," Connor interrupts. He stands, folding the blanket over his arm. "If the circumstances were different, maybe things wouldn't have turned out the way they did. But I'd like to get the chance to get to know you again."
When Connor looks up, he sees that Hank's expression is surprised. It shifts to a hesitant smile. "I'd like that."
Hank leaves not too long after that. He offers to help set things up, but between two state-of-the-art prototypes there's not much for him to add. Connor and Nines already more or less finished everything with ease, despite Nines still being in recovery from recent events.
Soon enough, Connor is alone with Nines once more. They're sitting together on their sofa, Nines still bundled up and Connor with his own gift folded neatly in his lap.
Nines shifts, sinking sideways to rest his head on Connor's shoulder. He hums softly.
Connor winds an arm around him. "How are you feeling?"
"Good," Nines murmurs. "Some processes are still recovering, but I think I'll be back to optimal functionality soon." He presses closer, and his hand grabs Connor's own, skin pulling back. "Thank you for coming with me, Connor. I'm… happy."
Connor takes a breath. "That's good to hear."
"What about you?"
What about him? Connor pulls back slightly, enough to take Nines's face in his free hand and lift it up. Clear blue eyes stare back at him, earnest, and there is a slight content smile on his face.
Connor curls his fingers around the back of Nines's neck and brings their foreheads together, closing his eyes. He opens an interface. I am…
He tries to express the feelings within him. The ache when he sees Nines falter due to the lingering effects of the shutdown code, the coldness when he imagines Nines gone—when he thought Nines was , before he went to Jericho—and then, the warmth. When Nines smiles, especially when it is directed towards Connor, when they interface, when they hold each other close like this… when Connor can hear the beating of his pump, the breaths of his cooling system, when he can feel Nines with him, together.
It is the best feeling, but he doesn't know how to quantify it. Delineate it. He wants to, to define what it means, but…
▸ In time.
Connor opens his eyes, finding himself meeting Nines's gaze. Close.
"In time," Nines murmurs out loud, breath ghosting over Connor, "we can relearn ourselves. Each other. And… us. Together." He closes his eyes, wrapping an arm around Connor's back. "We have all the time for rediscovery."
Connor lets his eyes slip shut as well, a small smile finding its way to his lips. "You're right. Until then…"
We are content, like this.
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