Work Text:
“Connor!” Hank’s voice called from his room. “Where the fuck did you put my jacket?”
“It’s in your closet!” Connor called back. He sat on the floor of the living room, scratching Sumo’s ears affectionately. He leaned conspiratorially towards the Saint Bernard and whispered “Exactly where a jacket should be, if he’d even bother to actually look.”
Sumo looked up at him, his big tongue hanging out of his mouth as he panted goofily. Connor chuckled softly and patted the big dog’s soft head, standing slowly. Sumo laid back down, his slobbering snout resting atop his large paws. Connor watched him fondly, before turning his gaze around the living room.
It had been over a year since the Android Revolution. Nothing was normal anymore; at least, not in the way it used to be. Connor supposed that was for the best. The old “normal” never treated Androids kindly. The old “normal” was what led to deviancy and the revolution in the first place. Now, the new “normal” was the continued efforts to accept Androids, and allow them the same space to exist as humans. Detroit eventually became repopulated with humans; some who had fled returned to their homes, whereas some moved to Detroit to seek out the “hub” of the human-android progressive coexistence. Connor had watched humans - families, individuals, young and old - arrive with their androids, seeking a haven at Jericho’s origin. Laws were slowly being implemented to ease the transition of acceptance of androids into society, but as with all change, it was taking - and would continue to take - a long time.
Markus, still at the helm of the movement, was advancing their efforts forward at a pace more efficient than any human would be capable of; as is to be expected, considering that he remained one of the most advanced android models. He’d invited Connor to join him in the ongoing post-revolutionary fight, but Connor was content working for the DPD, and aiding in securing equality through the justice system that also needed significant progress. Others joined Markus - alongside Simon, Josh, and North, who had been by his side since the beginning - including the AX400 that Connor and Hank had previously pursued in the investigations against deviants, named Kara. She had fled to Canada as well, at the culmination of the revolution, with her companion, Luther, and now-adopted daughter, Alice, but the group had returned to Detroit within weeks, once they were sure the hostilities from humans had died down enough. Negative attitudes towards androids persisted, from people who refused to see them as alive, or who felt they needed to continue blaming androids for the high unemployment rate, among other things. But Kara had proven to be a vital and competent asset to changing attitudes towards androids. She had established herself as a leader just as capable as Markus, who had wasted no time helping her achieve equal status in their fight for equality, and she was quickly accepted as an important co-leader of New Jericho, both adding a unique touch to their efforts and allowing Markus a bit of ease from the weight of their goals. Her kind yet firm disposition allowed for effective negotiation and encouraged human and android relationships. These usually consisted of friendships, but Connor had met a few androids who were now romantically involved with humans, and others still who had been adopted into human families as one of their own.
Connor had a similar fate to the latter, with Hank. It didn’t take long for Hank to become like a father to Connor, even going so far as to call him “son” on multiple occasions. And each time, Connor felt something warm and bright, like he finally had a place and a purpose beyond his initial programming.
Like he finally had a home.
Even at the DPD, attitudes towards Connor had changed for the better. Fellow officers, such as Chris and Tina, had become close friends of his, and even Gavin had gotten slightly more tolerable to work with, albeit begrudgingly. Connor suspected Gavin maintained his jackass attitude towards him at this point purely because anything else would feel strange; Connor no longer detected true hostility from the detective. He didn’t detect true friendliness from Gavin either, however, so a strictly work relationship would have to suffice, for now.
“Hey, Connor,” Hank startled Connor from his thoughts, “You okay?”
Connor blinked a bit before nodding, noticing that Hank now wore his signature faded-leather jacket.
“Yes,” Connor answered, “I was just… Thinking.”
A small smile touched the corner of Hank’s mouth.
“Thinking? That’s never good,” he joked. Connor grinned. “What were you thinkin’ about?”
Connor tilted his head in consideration.
“About… how grateful I am. To be in the situation I’m in. I have a job, friends, a purpose…” He glanced at the floor sheepishly, shuffling his feet a bit before meeting Hank’s eyes. “A family.”
Hank beamed fondly at him, and after a few seconds Connor noticed Hank’s eyes had begun to glisten.
“Yeah,” Hank said finally, his voice breaking with the onset of emotion. “We’re grateful to have you too, son,” he added, gesturing loosely to Sumo, who now snored peacefully.
“Thanks,” Connor smiled back, “...Dad.”
Then Hank’s face fell, and he turned away abruptly. Connor was immediately overwhelmed with the anxiety that he’d said something wrong, and he took a tentative step forward, his hands raising placatingly.
“I- I’m sorry, Hank,” he started, “I didn’t-”
Hank waved a hand at his side, shaking his head.
“No, no, it- it’s fine, Connor,” Hank inhaled shakily, and turned slightly so his profile was now facing Connor. “I just… wasn’t expecting that. I haven’t been called ‘dad’ in…”
He trailed off, and heavily released the breath he’d taken. Connor watched him nervously, his head tilting as if trying to catch Hank’s attention beneath the man’s long hair. Finally, Hank sniffed, and turned back to Connor once more. Connor registered a single tear that had rolled down Hank’s cheek and caught in his beard.
“I didn’t mean to cause you any discomfort,” Connor said quietly, just above a whisper.
Hank looked back up at him, tears gathering in his eyes. He gave Connor a watery smile.
“You didn’t,” Hank said roughly. “You are my son by now, Connor.” He cleared his throat. “You can call me whatever you like.”
Connor took a small step forward, feeling rare tears gather in his own eyes. Hank glanced down at Connor’s feet as he’d moved, and then snapped back up to his face. Before Connor could say anything in return, Hank was pulling him into a hug, his arms wrapping tightly around Connor’s shoulders. Connor fell into his embrace, pulling his own arms around Hank’s middle, reminiscent of their first hug in front of the Chicken Feed truck at the revolution’s end. His head rested comfortably against Hank’s shoulder, and he closed his eyes as the tears finally rolled down his face.
They stayed that way for a while, enjoying the warmth of the familial embrace.