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Hank hated how peaceful the snow was. It was a blanket of white, smothering everything under its cold depths, icing roads and collapsing roofs, and yet children played in it, people included it in cartoons around Christmas, and it was always so, so quiet.
Well, almost always.
“Goddamnit.” Hank grumbled as the howling winds somehow managed to sneak into the three jackets he was wearing. He looked at the front seat of the car through the window, a hole-like feeling in his stomach. “Fuckin’ storm. I don’t know if I can drive home like this.”
Connor looked at him, sticking out oddly from the people around him in his work uniform and nothing else. His LED was yellow. “Would you like me to drive? I do not need to see the road, I can-”
“No, Connor.” Hank interrupted him, his heart rate spiking at the thought of being helpless behind a wheel in this weather. “I can’t-We shouldn’t drive in this. Wheels can slip even under an android’s grip.”
Connor blinked, his LED circling red, then yellow, before settling on blue again. “I see. Would you like to walk home? It may be a while, but perhaps the exercise will be good for us.”
Hank snorted, “Us. Right. Because androids need to burn fat.”
Connor shrugged, turning to the car. “We could taxi, too, but that’s still on the road.”
Hank knew, logically, that he was being ridiculous. But there was another part of him that had been through the hell that an icy road could afflict, and it protested strongly. The last straw was a mental image of Connor with a gash on his head, blue blood on the dashboard, and the sounds of sirens. “Yeah. A walk might be good.”
“Are you warm enough?”
“Am I-have you looked at yourself?” Hank poked Connor’s arm.
“I am an android.” Connor crossed his arms, a frown pinching his face slightly, “I cannot get cold. Not like a human can.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Hank waved him off, “Let’s go before it gets dark .”
Connor nodded, and the two of them set off. It wasn’t long before Hank’s feet got tired, but it was endlessly preferable to driving. Connor was distracting him as they walked, going on and on about a case that Hank wasn’t quite concentrating on. The familiarity of Connor’s voice was soothing, and when he got too lost in memories, he could focus on it to pull him out of it. He wasn’t sure if Connor was doing it on purpose, but he didn’t really care.
It wasn’t until Connor started to speak less and less that Hank realized how much it was helping him. He looked up from where he’d been staring at the snow on the sidewalk and concentrating on not getting buffered by the wind, but his plans to ask Connor to continue died on his tongue.
The android’s eyes were laser focused ahead, but when Hank followed his line of sight, there was nothing. His body was stiff, and his arms were crossed like he was cold, which of course, he’d just told Hank he couldn’t be. Most alarmingly, his yellow LED was interrupted with spins of red, some of them holding for multiple seconds. “Connor?” Hank stopped walking, surprised when Connor kept going. “Connor, hang on, wait for me!”
Connor stopped, and his eyes flicked to Hank, but there was no recognition. “Let me out.” He whispered, so softly that Hank had to strain to hear him over the storm.
“You’re not stuck anywhere, Connor.” Hank stepped in front of him and gently put his hand on the young android’s cheek. His heart sank when his LED flashed red again and stayed that way. “Connor, brea-” Androids didn’t need to breathe. How do you help an android through…whatever was going on? “Connor, look at me. Look at me, son.”
Connor’s joints were locked up, snow gathering in his hair. “Amanda.”
Hank bit his lip, “No, I’m not-I’m not Amanda.” Who was Amanda? “I’m Hank Anderson. Remember? It’s alright kid, just-just talk to me.” He reached up and brushed the snow out of the boy’s hair, tugging his shoulder slightly. Connor tightened his arms, a whine escaping his vocalizer. “Okay. Okay, I won’t touch you.” Hank took his hand away, “Connor, please.”
“H-hnk-” Connor unfolded his arms, his hands shooting out to grab Hanks. “I want out.”
“Where do you think you are?” Hank asked, squeezing the plastic fingers. “Conner, what are you seeing?”
“I-the-the Garden.” Connor’s voice was shaking. “It’s froz-frozen.”
“No. No, you’re near my house. Our house. We’re walking home from work, remember?” Hank cupped the boy’s cheek with his free hand again, “You’re okay.”
“I don’t-I don’t want to shoot him.” Connor was trembling now, “I don’t-don’t make me-”
Hank let go of the android’s hand just for a moment as he took two of his coats off, laying them over Connor’s shoulders. “You’ve got no gun. You’re not going to shoot anyone. Connor, I don’t know what you’re seeing, but it’s not real. I promise.” He wrapped his arms around Connor’s chest, hugging him tightly.
He heard a small gasp, and he felt a little pressure on his back. Connor started cycling air again, “H-Hank?”
Hank pulled back slightly, relieved when he saw recognition in the depths of Connor’s brown eyes. “Connor. Jesus Christ, kid, you scared the shit outta me.”
Connor blinked, seemingly not registering what he said. “I’m wearing your clothes.”
“Yes, you are. I’ll explain later. Let’s get going, the sooner we get inside, the better.” Hank grasped his hand and tugged slightly, his chest loosening as Connor’s feet moved with him. Neither of them spoke as they walked, but Hank saw the light from the LED reflect off the falling snow, yellow and red interchanging sporadically. It never turned blue.
“I’m fine, Hank.” Connor murmured as Hank wrapped a thick blanket around his shoulders. Connor had insisted on giving Hank his jackets back, so this would work. It was probably more comfortable anyways. “Really, I just-it was a temporary malfunction, my systems have corrected the issue.”
“Your little blinky light is goin’ haywire.” Hank tapped the yellow-red flicker on his head. “And, no offense kid, but you’re a shitty liar.”
Connor glanced up at him, his hand drifting up to the LED. “I’m fine.”
“Connor.” Hank sat down next to him, “It’s alright to freak out sometimes. There’s no shame in it.”
“I am a state of the art-”
“Yada, yada, yada.” Hank interrupted him, “I know. But you’ve got a soul, you’ve got a mind. Android or not, what you’ve been through…well, I was expecting a breakdown sooner, to be honest.”
Connor looked at his lap, “...I don’t know why that happened.”
“Trauma does weird shit.” Hank shrugged, “Now…do you want to talk about it? I mean, I’m not a therapist, but getting shit out does wonders. You’ve listened to enough of my bullshit that I think it’s fair.” At Connor’s hesitance, he backtracked slightly, “You don’t have to. Not if you don’t want to. It’s your private business, I just thought-”
“I was stuck in my head.” Connor stuttered out, his hands beginning to tremble again, “I-Ama-Amada, she-she took over my body.” Hank felt a drop on his wrist and realized that Connor’s eyes were shining with artificial tears. “She tried to k-kill Marcus and-and I couldn’t-I almost sh-shot-” His LED was solid red again, and Hank knew he had to calm him down.
“It’s okay. Marcus is alive, you beat her.”
“She could come back.” Connor’s voice cracked, “Cyberlife could get into my head again, they-I could kill you, I could hurt someone at the DPD, I could-I could kill-”
“Cyberlife is gone.” Hank wiped Connor’s cheek, “It’s gone, they can’t hurt you or anyone else again. Whoever Amanda is, she can’t get to you.” He guessed that Amanda was some kind of program, from how Connor was talking about her. “I think the snow got to you, son. But you’re okay, you won’t hurt anyone else.”
Connor gripped the blanket so hard that Hank could see his skin program flicker slightly. “But-”
“No buts. You’ll just spiral, trust me, I know.” Hank leaned over and kissed the top of his head, “I’m going to go get you a drink. Hang on, okay?” At Connor’s nod, he slipped away to the kitchen, grabbed a bag of thirium, and jogged back, opening the pouch and pressing it into Connor’s hand. “Drink.”
Connor looked at the bag, “I don’t understand.”
“You know, drinking? You put the thing in your mouth, and-”
Connor cut him off, “I know what drinking is. But I haven't lost any thirium, I don't need this.”
“It’ll make you feel better.” Hank said, pushing it a little, “Just take a sip, I promise it’ll clear your head.”
Connor looked doubtful, but he did as he was told, sipping the blue liquid. He put it down after a moment, “...Thank you.”
“Yeah, not a problem.” Hank put the remaining thirium on the table, “Wanna watch a movie? We should chill the rest of the night. Unless you want to talk more.”
Connor shook his head, “Not…not now. Maybe tomorrow. I…I don’t feel well.”
Hank patted his knee, “Okay, kid. Tomorrow. After we pick up the car, probably.”
Connor laughed slightly at that, and his LED flickered from yellow to blue and back again.