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SAT, 9th April, 2039
3:52pm
It was a peaceful Saturday afternoon; a day off work where Hank and Connor spent the day relaxing. Nine times out of ten, they would stay home and get on with their own activities in relative quiet, vaguely aware of the other’s company.
Today, Hank was reclined on the couch, watching a sports game, Sumo was napping beside him, and Connor was sat in the other chair, reading an encyclopaedia about insects. Hank was just thinking about what to order for dinner that evening, scrolling on his phone, when something caught his attention and he mumbled aloud.
“Huh.”
Connor looked up, LED spinning, head tilted. But no explanation came. After a few moments, he placed his bookmark in the book, putting it on the table, before leaning forwards in his seat, studying Hank. Unfortunately for him, no answer would come, as Hank put his phone back in his pocket and continued watching the game.
“Elaborate,” he said, startling Hank.
“Jesus christ, when did you get in here?”
“Two hours ago. That’s irrelevant; what I’m asking about is why you just said ‘huh’ precisely 1 minute and 43 seconds ago.”
“Huh?”
Connor frowned. “There you go again. Look, when you had your phone out, you looked at something, said ‘huh’, and—”
“Oh, shit, I just saw tomorrow’s date. That’s all.”
Connor briefly researched the next day, head tilted. “Sunday 10th April. Ah, Easter Sunday, is that what you meant?” When Hank nodded, he leant back in his seat. “I see. I wasn’t aware that you celebrate.”
“I don’t. That’s why I saw it, said huh, ‘cause I didn’t realise that shit was on tomorrow. That’s all.”
Connor nodded, picking back up his book. Time passed silently between them, but he found he could no longer focus on the page about moths he’d been reading before, and soon he put the book back down again.
“So, do you dislike Easter?”
Hank looked back at him. “Well… I just don’t celebrate it, that’s all. I used to as a kid, since my parents did. But not anymore.”
Connor hummed. “Not anymore because you only celebrated it for them, or not anymore as in—”
“Fuck-ton of questions for a Saturday afternoon, Con.”
Connor held up his hands. “I’m sorry. I’ll just make it one question, then. What do you think of Easter? I am curious about human traditions, after all.”
Hank studied him long and hard before sighing. “As long as being interested in human traditions doesn’t turn into the way you became obsessed with Christmas… no one should have to tolerate that much shitty holiday music and tinsel in his goddamn home.
Easter’s alright, I guess. Mom used to get eggs and hide them around the house, said the ‘easter rabbit’ left them or whatever, and I’d find them. Sure, I guess I miss that part, who wouldn’t miss free shit? Now, are you happy?”
Connor scratched his chin. “So the easter rabbit is like Santa Claus, if he only specialised in eggs and decided to hide the presents around the house… Interesting. Well, if you miss eggs so much, Hank, I think there’s tons at any local grocery store.”
“Nah,” Hank waved his hand, “shit’s not the same when you do it yourself. Not for me, at least. Besides… I haven’t celebrated Easter in a long time.”
He fell silent, looking back at the television. Connor processed the information for a while, staring at nowhere in particular. Then, after approximately five minutes had passed, he got to his feet and announced that he was heading out for a while, alone, to nowhere in particular. Hank simply shrugged and looked back at the sports game, not even questioning it (he was a rather strange android, after all, even post-deviancy).
SUN, 10th April, 2039
8:00am
The next morning, Hank awoke from sleep to the peaceful sound of music. He rolled over, mumbling about ‘just five more minutes’, reaching out his hand blindly to switch off the alarm clock.
Then he stopped. Wait… he didn’t even have an alarm clock!
His eyes snapped open and he looked around wildly until he found the source of the noise. There it was, Connor sitting in the chair beside the bed, music playing from… well, himself. His internal speakers, more accurately. Hank stared at him. Connor stared back, then slowly, he turned off the music.
“Good morning, Hank. Surprise. The easter rabbit came while you were sleeping.”
Hank blinked his eyes blearily, scrubbing a hand over his face. “Not sure there’s anything less terrifying to hear on a Sunday morning.”
Connor tilted his head. “It’s Easter, Hank. As you told me yesterday. That means—”
“Can I have five minutes to get up? Please?”
Connor nodded. He made no moves to leave the room.
“…alone?”
He nodded again, speeding out of the room. “Of course. But make sure you’re not too long; Sumo might… er, find the eggs before you.”
As Hank was left in relative peace to wake up, he heard the sounds of someone calling to Sumo in a voice that distinctly sounded not like the Easter rabbit, and a whole lot more like Connor. He groaned, sitting up in bed, mumbling to himself. “Oh, brother… why the fuck do I open my damn mouth sometimes.”
Still, he got up within ten minutes, ready enough to face whatever was waiting for him out there.
Unfortunately, it didn’t include a mug of coffee, so he beelined for the kitchen towards the kettle. Connor intercepted him before he could grab his mug.
“Wait, Hank, before you pour the coffee in there—”
Hank reached around him and took the mug, staring inside. There was an egg inside it. It was almost reminiscent of the Easter Sunday egg hunts his mother set up for him as a kid, except this was just a raw chicken’s egg.
“Surprise?”
“The fuck is this?”
“I told you before, the Easter rabbit came and hid some eggs for you.” Connor frowned, looking at the ground. “I was sure I— I mean, the Easter rabbit was sure he got it right. You said he hid eggs around the house, right?”
Hank stared at him, then shrugged. “Yeah, sure, that’s… right.” He took the egg out of the mug and looked at it with what he hoped was adequate joy. In reality, he looked a little pained. “Oh wonderful, I found one. Now, I’ll just find a cup that doesn’t have unwashed eggs in it—” He stopped as Connor shook his head. “Right. I’ll make coffee later.”
“I have a… suggestion, before you search for the rest of the eggs,” Connor spoke up, “a clue system, of sorts, so that you have greater chances of finding all the eggs in a prompt fashion.”
“Hit me with it.”
“The hot and cold system. When you’re near an egg, I’ll say hot. When you’re far away from one, I’ll say cold.”
Hank shrugged, walking into the living room. “Sure, what do I have to lose?” He paused. “How do you know where the eggs are, though? Thought the Easter rabbit or some shit hid them.”
Behind him, he heard Connor panic, and rolled his eyes. Maybe that was too cruel of a joke… Then he recalled that the android had just woken him up at 8am on a Sunday blasting music out of his mouth, and changed his mind.
“I, uh… Stayed up all night and watched him?”
“Poor fucker,” Hank commented, walking towards the couch where Sumo was laying. “So I’m not the only one around here who doesn’t get any damn peace and quiet.”
“You’re getting hot,” Connor commented as Hank neared the couch. “Moreso no… hotter… no, colder. Hotter. Co—”
Hank reached behind Sumo and pulled out an egg. This one was particularly slobbery. He looked around, finding a bowl in the centre of his table, and he cleared it out before placing the eggs inside. “Guess I’m making scrambled eggs tonight. Or for the foreseeable future.”
Connor continued to direct Hank around his living room with clues, until soon the bowl was full with eggs and Hank was questioning his life choices. Wiping his brow, he placed the last egg into the bowl before turning to him.
“That’s a dozen, right? Every damn— er, every egg found?”
Connor shook his head. “There’s one more, and I’m not giving any clues for this one.”
Hank groaned. “What sort of place sells thirteen— alright. Fine. Sumo, you’re helping me.”
Sumo didn’t get up, simply rolling over on his back on the couch, snoring loudly.
And so for the next quarter of an hour, Hank searched his house top to bottom for the missing egg. It wasn’t in the living room, nor the bathroom (thank god), nor the kitchen, and he didn’t suspect it was in Connor’s room.
“I’ve looked fucking everywhere…” Hank complained, marching into his own room. “If it’s in here, I—”
He pulled open his closet doors. Well, that hadn’t been in there earlier. But instead of being greeted with the sight of a raw egg nestled amongst his clothes, instead there was a large, packaged chocolate egg, with a little sticky note on the front that said: ‘For Hank :)’.
Hank picked it up, turning it over in his hands. This was certainly more familiar, more nostalgic. A classic easter egg. Dark chocolate as well, something he preferred to the sweeter stuff. He turned around, egg in hands, to find Connor standing behind him.
“You found it! Great work, Hank—”
His voice was cut off as Hank pulled him into a brief hug. He smiled, leaning into the embrace.
When Hank pulled back, his brows furrowed. He looked between the chocolate egg and the open doorway, something registering on his face.
“Wait, if you knew all along that chocolate eggs are for Easter, then why the fuck did you get raw eggs for the rest of the egg hunt?”
“I have no idea what you mean,” Connor replied with a shrug, moving out of his room, back into the living room.
Hank glared after him, knowing even with his back-turned that Connor was wearing that shit-eating grin. “You motherfucker. I wish the Easter rabbit had hidden some Jack Daniels or some shit, could do with it after all that.”
Connor turned, still smirking. “Oh, he did hide some. Here’s a clue: it’s pretty hot over by the kitchen sink.”
Hank cried out as he ran towards the kitchen, as if he could still save the whiskey. “The easter rabbit’s a fucking sadist!”