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The Detroit Police Department held an optional New Year’s Party every year for those who didn’t have people to celebrate with. It was a kind thing for the department to do, something that was completely optional to all employees. Food was provided, drinks were served, and company was promised.
Hank always took advantage of the party. After Cole died, Hank threw himself into work, which included working on New Years. Jeffrey had tried to get him to enjoy the festivities of the department, which Hank really appreciated, but he was too focused on ensuring what happened to his son wouldn’t happen to anyone else. He would hear the shouts of his colleagues in Jeffrey’s office, usually a group of fifteen or twenty, counting down the seconds until a new year began. One Hank would spend it with his only family member Jack Daniels.
Every year he would go. Maybe once or twice he allowed himself to be dragged into Jeffrey’s office, a champagne glass shoved into his hand, and allowed himself to actually participate in the party. He loved most of his coworkers (Gavin could suck a frozen pole), and getting to witness them smile freely with flushed cheeks made him realize what a buzzkill he’d been. Cole’s death was the most difficult thing to accept, but once he did, he started looking forward to the free food and booze.
Now, with Connor part of the department, he was looking forward to it even more. Even after turning deviant, Connor was still a bit stiff. He often looked to Hank for a clue on social cues, on what kind of clothing style fit him (Hank burned his uniform as soon as he could after the revolution), and how to generally fit in with the crowd they surrounded themselves with. Typically, it would just be Hank, Sumo, and maybe Jimmy pouring Hank a drink, but a party seemed to be Connor’s worst nightmare. The famous deviant hunter reduced to a silent, nervous mess as Hank drove to the station.
After the revolution was over, Hank had been worried he’d find the android dead on the street somewhere. He should’ve known better, though, that Connor could very well take care of himself in a fight, should he get into one. Seeing him at the food truck, suit pristine and all, had sent a wave of relief through Hank that he didn’t know he needed. Talking with Jeffrey about Connor’s future employment was… a bit odd. He could imagine the confusion clouding his boss’s mind seeing the man who so vehemently hated androids now advocating for Connor to remain on the force, even saying the android could stay with him if need be.
And stay Connor did. It was actually kind of nice having someone else in the house, though Hank felt guilty waking up late to see the android making breakfast. The noise was calming. And Sumo seemed especially happy to use the android as a personal bed.
Hank snickered at the memory of waking up earlier than usual and finding Connor on the couch, presumably sleeping, with Sumo laid out flat on top of him. In the passenger seat, the android in question raised a brow.
“Something funny, Hank?”
“Yeah. Why the hell are you so nervous? There’s always a small crowd, it's nothing to be worried about,” Hank deflected.
Connor shifted in his seat to rest his head on the window. Detroit was in the process of rebuilding. A city of innovation in mechanics and life itself. “I don’t know.”
“As if that’s a good answer. You’re like a brooding teenager.”
“I don’t brood.”
“No, you don’t.” Hank pulled into the parking garage. It was empty save for a few slots near the side entrance. “You pout.”
Connor had never looked so offended. “I do not pout,” he argued.
“Yes you do! You stand off to the side with this sad look in your eyes. And you wonder why Casey avoids you so much.”
“Because he’s scared of me?”
“‘Cause he can’t handle people looking sad around him.”
Connor had the audacity to roll his eyes as Hank parked the car. As they climbed out, Hank opened the back door to grab a bag containing tupperware and New Years’ accessories. Hank thought he’d actually do something nice this year after leeching off of others for so long, and decided to make a dozen cookies. Connor helped, but he refused to let the android take over. The end result wasn’t half bad. A little dry, but chocolatey nonetheless, just like Hank liked it.
Hank locked the car, putting the bag on top of the sunroof. “Hey, c’mere.”
Connor’s famous confused frown made an appearance as he walked around the car to stand by the driver’s side door. Hank dug into the bag, producing some cheesy New Year’s party hats and poppers and noise makers. Cecelia had texted Hank a few days ago telling him she wouldn’t be able to make it to the party this year and that no one else was going to bring accessories. It happened by chance for Hank to be able to be nice again.
He put one of the black and gold party hats on Connor’s head, the elastic band snapping into place under his chin. Connor’s LED swirled yellow before simmering to blue again. Hank didn’t understand why Connor kept his LED, but he didn’t want to ask. It seemed important to Connor, and whenever he’d be ready to talk about it, Hank would be there.
“Is this really necessary, Hank?” Connor protested weakly, though he didn’t move when Hank put gold garland around his neck like a scarf.
“Come on, Connor, indulge in the fun a bit. Believe it or not, this is the most I’ve done for the party in years. And I feel like partying. And drinking. Good thing you can’t get drunk, huh?”
Hank put on a cheap, silver cowboy hat he bought for himself. He wouldn’t be caught dead wearing one of those pointy hats. He mirrored Connor’s look by dousing himself in silver garland. “See? We’re even.”
Connor’s mood improved a little when they entered the station, seeing the Christmas decorum still up mixed with black, silver, and gold balloons. Hank entered the main area first, finding the empty desks turned into a long table full of food platters and drinks.
“Oh fuck yeah, James brought the good charcuterie,” Hank said, immediately grabbing a piece of cheese from said platter. He put the Tupperware of cookies with the small desserts near the end of the table.
“Hank, Connor, good to see you both!” Chris said, bounding up to them. His smile grew brighter as he got closer. “You got any more hats?”
“Of course. Knock yourself out.”
Chris took the bag, leading them towards Jeffrey’s office. “Everyone’s in the Chief's office, as always. Got a smaller crowd than usual.”
“How many?”
“With you guys, it’s around eleven now.”
“Shiiit, what’s up with everyone ditching?”
“Cecelia got a boyfriend, and I guess a few of the others wanted to stay home this year.”
Hank glanced back to make sure Connor was still following. It was almost comical how stoic his expression was in contrast to his attire. Connor still stuck to a sort of business casual style of dress, and made sure to put on a nice button up and slacks for the party. Something about control, he’d said. The android met his eye, nodding when Hank raised a questioning brow.
They entered the office, where conversation and drinks were already amiss.
“Hey, Hank, good to see you,” Jeffrey said, reaching out to clap the man’s shoulder, grinning and tapping the silver hat before turning to the android. “And Connor, how are you doin’?”
“I’m doing well, Captain Fowler. How about yourself?” Connor replied politely.
“Just happy this year’s over. Too much shit happened in too little time. Makes me feel like I aged three years in one. Well, you know the deal. We’ve got food and drinks and chatter until next year.”
Hank spent the evening gorging on food, being surprisingly light on the drink (definitely Connor’s intervention), and catching up with his coworkers. The deviancy case and the effects of it after had taken up most of his time in and out of work. He didn’t know that Chris’s wife was pregnant, or that Sarah had found a new job that paid better. It was nice to hear good things happening for once, especially after a period of such uncertainty and fear.
Connor had spent most of the night tailing him silently, only speaking when being spoken to, and replacing his beer with a soda when he wasn’t looking. It was one of the cons to living with an android, because now Hank’s health was being taken seriously which meant no more beer. Though, he couldn’t complain about how much better he’d been feeling recently. Hank wished he’d expand his social abilities a little more, if even just by talking to one person by himself, but he seemed uninterested in the party as a whole. He wondered if the android had something to tell him, something important, and was just flat out refusing to do so. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d done it.
The night swept on. More conversations happened, more food was eaten, and time kept ticking by. People loved the cookies Hank brought, which finally got a smile out of Connor, who told everyone with pride that: “It only took four hours and a half-burnt kitchen to get it right.” Hank chuckled alongside his coworkers because it wasn’t so far off from the truth. Hank nearly started a fire, but whatever. New year new me type shit.
The countdown was near, and Hank was grabbing yet another plate of food when Connor finally spoke again.
“Do you enjoy the company of others, Hank?”
Hank paused, turning to face Connor. He had that look on his face again; the kind where you could tell he was thinking but couldn’t for the life of you tell where the conversation was going to go. The man huffed, returning to the task at hand.
“Uhh, I guess? Why?”
Connor was quiet for a moment before saying, “when we first met, you seemed to despise everything and everyone. Except the bar. At the party, though, you seem… less displeased to be around others. I’m just wondering what changed.”
Hank hadn’t really thought of it like that. He didn’t really despise anyone (except Gavin, and Perkins…fuck that guy). When he met Connor, he had mostly grasped on to the fact that his son was never coming back, and life just seemed less worth living because of it. What kind of world would make a parent outlive their child? Hank was bitter with the thought, and it seeped into his every day personality and life. Not to say he was the nicest person around from the beginning, but he was more tolerable.
If anything, the deviancy case brought back the humanity he needed. It gave him the kick in the ass he so desperately needed to realize that yes, Cole was gone, but he would see him again one day. The priorities in his real life had changed for the better. He’s more locked in to his job, to his cases, and he’s a better dog owner by taking Sumo for walks. He owes half of his success to Connor for dragging him out of any bar in town he’d find himself in. Connor and his mechanic mannerisms and goofy fucking voice that sounded concerned even before he turned deviant.
He’d lost Cole a while ago, but he liked to think he gained a son out of all this crazy shit the deviant case brought them through. That in itself was enough to kick Hank out of his drunken stupor and get his head out of his ass. Connor had shown him what it was like to be taken care of, and Hank would make sure to return the favor.
Hank put down his plate with a sigh. “This year… It's been a lot. For all of us. I learned a lot of things about our respective species and about myself. With the revolution and all…I haven’t been able to really process it all. But what I do know is that I’ve been avoiding people for far too long. I’ve lashed out at people for too long and it’s done nothing but make me miserable. Make me drink until my gut explodes.”
Connor’s eyes adverted to the open cooler on the floor full of various brands of beer.
“It’s been a while since I’ve been able to really comprehend what I’ve been doing to myself, and to think about all the hateful things that have been clouding my mind since Cole died. Can’t believe it took a deviant revolution for me to finally get the stick out of my ass, but… I want to change, Connor. I haven’t been able to say that for a while. I want to be better—to stop drinking so much and actually be present in my own life.” Hank cleared his throat awkwardly, facing Connor’s abnormally curious eyes with a half-smile. “I have you to thank for that. Ironic, right? I hated androids, and they were the reason I’m trying to turn my life around.”
“I think you did that all yourself, Hank. The events of this year have just been a boost for you.”
“Still,” Hank shrugged. He placed his hand on the android’s shoulder and squeezed. “Thanks for not giving up on me. Would’ve saved you a lot of trouble if you did.”
Connor shook his head, genuinely smiling for the first time that night. “Partners aren’t supposed to leave each other behind. We look out for one another. There is no trouble in doing that. If anything, I should be thanking you for helping me open my eyes. Thank you. Really.”
It was Hank’s turn to roll his eyes. Before he could comment, the countdown began, the voices of their coworkers muffled in Jeffrey’s office.
“Ten! Nine! Eight! Seven!”
Hank remembered a time when he didn’t think he’d make it another year. The weight on his heart was too heavy to bear alone, every waking thought consumed by his need to drink, to forget about what happened to his son. He remembered a time when androids were the bane of his existence after taking what he held dearest to his heart from him.
“Six! Five! Four!”
He remembered thinking “why the hell is this android buying me a drink for the road” before going to the crime scene. Hank remembered the moment his mind began to change thanks to the awkward android, when Connor refused to shoot the deviants at the Eden Club. That moment—Connor’s actions mixed with the deviant’s words—forced him to confront the idea that maybe androids weren’t the demons he thought they were.
“Three! Two! One!”
“Happy fuckin’ New Year,” Hank muttered, watching his coworkers celebrate and take a sip of their drinks. He patted Connor’s shoulder before bringing him in for a side hug.
“Happy New Year, Hank,” Connor said, his shoulders relaxing.
Standing in the station as the new year came upon them, Hank realized that change was inevitable. He either had to ride with the current, or fight against it long enough to tire and die. With a loving dog and a son at home, what a better way to end the year.