Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Oh, Connor...

Stress Level: 91%

Connor stood shakily in the middle of the workshop, his hostage pinned against his stuttering, heaving chest. Panic nearly consumed him. In the android's trembling right hand, he held a gun to his hostage's temple.

He didn't need to access his scanners to know that the heart rates and stress levels of everyone in the room were dangerously high right now, including his own. If he still had his LED, it would be swirling a bloody redredRED.

Oh, Connor...

Stress Level: 94%

His blood dripped sluggishly from the wound he had sustained earlier. As each blue drop made contact with the floor, the other people in the room, the Avengers, tried to subtly surround him and block his exits.

Connor, the pinnacle of CyberLife design programmed with some of the most advanced warfare suites, knew exactly what they were doing. He needed to move quickly in order to salvage the situation. The negotiator in him knew what he needed to do.

Control The Room

The android cybernetically brute forced his way into the building's AI in 1.2 seconds and just as quickly located the information that he needed.

Stress Level: 95%

Hank was in the building.

"Bring me Hank Anderson!" Connor roughly shoved his gun into the hostage's temple for emphasis, his wild eyes rapidly tracking the others' movements. When he received nothing but disbelieving looks and hardening, threatening expressions from those around him, Connor realized he only had one option left.

Intimidate

Connor clamped down on his spiraling emotions, his face becoming expressionless and his eyes going cold.

The Machine. The Deviant Hunter. The Killer.

Murderer.

"Protecting Lieutenant Hank Anderson is my primary mission. " The Android took a steady breath and readjusted his grip on the gun.

He snarled, baring his teeth.

"I always accomplish my mission."

Don't have any regrets. You accomplished your missio-

Chapter Text

Ten months ago

Four months after the peaceful Android Protests...

March 3rd, 2039

10:52 am

A lot of things had changed for Hank recently. The biggest change came the morning after the revolution.

He had kind of adopted an android. One second they were hugging in the snow and Hank was relishing the feel of the kid being alive in his arms and resting in the knowledge that this reckless idiot had somehow survived the night, and then he was asking the kid what his plans were.

Connor had gotten this really distant look in his eyes, his LED doing a worrying light show.

Hank's eyes had widen in surprise when the kid swallowed nervously and attempted to speak, but couldn't seem to find any words. Twice.

Connor had then flicked his eyes to Hank for the briefest moment before resolutely looking at their feet.

"I don't know, Lieutenant." he had whispered.

Hank had seen the look in the kids eyes when Connor had glanced at him. It was the same look the Lieutenant had seen on many trauma-surviving victims throughout the years.

It made Hank wonder what had happened to Connor in the last twenty four hours that he didn’t know about.

And that thought made his old heart hurt and brought up a paternal instinct he had believed was long dead and buried.

So Hank, the soft-hearted idiot that he was, told the android he was more then welcome to come back home with him. Sleep on his couch, if he did in fact do such a thing.

Sumo missed him, obviously.

The kid had looked so unsure, but that goofy grin came back a little and Connor followed him home.

Thus began a very strange period of Hank's life.

The android not so subtly made changes to his diet and gave steady, and sometimes forceful, encouragement regarding changing his drinking habits. He was down to four drinks a week and not super thrilled about it, but… whatever.

Hank was always very tempted to break Connor's requests, a.k.a. rules, but the kid looked like a kicked puppy whenever he tried to cheat. Hank’s stupid heart just couldn't do it. To either of them.

So he's getting sober and he's eating healthier.

Vegetables. Are. Disgusting. But, well, it made Connor happy.

Anyway, Connor stress cleaned. So, the house was basically always clean now too.

Because, Connor was always stressing out.

At first, Hank and Connor both kind of assumed the stress and the jumpiness and the hyper alertness was just part of his personality, but after the first panic attack/flashback the kid experienced, they realized it was also part of Connor's PTSD.

So, Hank was learning how to help Connor deal with that too.

And they're doing a lot of talking about feelings now too, which is something else Hank's really not used to doing or all that excited about. But he's trying his best, because he really does care about Connor and his mental health. Just because Hank's been a mess for a long time, doesn't mean that the kid should be too.

Besides, it's not like the kid’s really got anyone else or is in regular contact with any other androids. After the whole "Amanda Thing", Connor kind of cut himself off from the others. Not completely, though, but mostly. The kid needed help, and Hank swore to himself he'd be there for him.

The android is officially his partner now at the DPD. Special dispensation was granted to Connor one month after the revolution. He received the official rank of Detective and was partnered with Hank to work Android crimes, which now focused on protecting Android victims and bringing all perpetrators to justice.

And if Hank was being honest, it was really nice having a partner again. He hadn't had one in a while, especially one that cared.

Though, that wasn’t really anyone’s fault but his own. He's pushed a lot of people away over the years.

So, that's how they both found themselves in Hank’s car today. They were on their way to check out an anonymous tip the DPD had received about an android acting suspiciously near an abandoned warehouse. 

"Ok," Hank reached over to the dashboard to turn down Knights of the Black Death, "Ten bucks says ... the android is actually a human and the human is... a drug dealer. You'll owe me an extra ten if," he hesitated and chewed on his lip for a moment, "the suspicious person is wearing a garbage bag or a sheet or something as a cape." The older man smirked and eyed the android beside him.

Connor gave him a strange look, no doubt mentally picturing that scenario. “Alright,” he drew out the word and pitched his head slightly forward. “My guess is the android is actually an android and they are purposely trying to scare or threaten anyone that comes near the warehouse they are squatting in. You'll owe me an extra twenty if the android is not wearing any clothes and is brandishing... a fork?" Connor smiled, a mischievous glint entering his eyes.

Hank chuckled. "Deal."

Connor was getting more and more of a personality everyday. A weird personality, but still a personality.

Hank slowly pulled the car toward the curb, put the old thing in park and killed the engine. Both he and Connor checked their guns and got out of the car, making their way over to the building.

The small, two story warehouse was a dilapidated thing with piles of garbage around it, broken windows, an almost non-existent coat of paint and a faded sign barely hanging on for dear life. It fit in perfectly with the rest of the street.

"Wonderful part of town we find ourselves in today." Hank grumbled mostly to himself.

From his left, he could see Connor staring at him curiously before casting his gaze around them. After a few seconds, the android seemed to reach the conclusion that Hank was being sarcastic. He nodded and hummed in agreement.

Connor reached the open door first and placed his hand on his service weapon. When he noted that Hank was ready to go in, he stepped through the doorway and Hank followed right behind him.

The ground level was spacious and clear of any large debris. It was just as run down as the outside. There was garbage and some discarded furniture mostly in the center of the large floor. A sharp, cold breeze blew through the damaged windows, scattering some of the lighter junk and making both Connor and Hank shiver.

Since deviating, Connor had become more aware of his "nervous system". What used to be just feedback information and error messages, now translated to pain and the ability to feel temperature. Most androids did not have this capability, or a "stomach" for that matter, but because Connor is a prototype, he had both. In this Detroit winter, he kind of wished he didn't.

Hank started poking around the garbage in front of him, looking for any evidence suggesting that their suspicious person might be squatting in here. Connor slowly began walking around the room and used his scanners to investigate the area. They both tried not to disturb anything or make too much noise, just in case.

The android finished his thorough sweep of the first floor after a few minutes.

NO LIFE SIGNS DETECTED

NO DEVIANTS DETECTED

Brow furrowed in concentration, the android glanced around the area one more time.

"Hank," the Lieutenant’s head popped up from where the older man was crouched by the junk pile. "I do not detect anything of significance on this floor." Gesturing with his hand, the android continued. “Perhaps we should move our investigation ups-"

The rest of his suggestion was abruptly cut off by a loud bang resounding from the floor above them.

Stress Level: 42%

Both heads snapped up to stare at the ceiling as they instinctually drew their guns. Wordlessly, they looked to each other before making their way to the stairwell.

Connor was in position to clear the stairwell first, but Hank’s calloused hand on his shoulder held him back. He turned his head to look questioningly at the older man.

"Behind me, ok?" Hank whispered gruffly.

Connor tilted his head assesingly, like a golden retriever in Hank’s opinion, before he nodded in assent.

Hank slid past the younger man, checking to make sure the stairwell was clear, and quietly started up the stairs.

When they reached the second floor, Hank took aim to the right and Connor went left.

Hank’s sharp intake of air had Connor's LED flashing yellow and his body reflexively turning towards the older man.

The sight before him made his processors stall for a long second. A deviant, covered in red and blue blood, was pointing a gun at Hank. Human and android bodies littered the floor, their mixed blood staining the ground. Between Hank and the deviant, there was a strange, glowing device that was generating some kind of energy.

Connor's processor seemed to catch up and, to him, time came to a near halt.

He scanned the deviant.

Model: PJ500

Name Registered: Owen

Occupation: Quantum Mechanics and Astrophysics Think Tank Assistant

Stress Level: 98%

Threat Assessment: High

Probability of Violence: 100%

The deviants' finger was beginning to squeeze down on the trigger.

Connor preconstructed three different scenarios and only one of them saw Hank surviving this mess.

His processor returned to it's normal speed and Connor's mouth was suddenly, inexplicably dry.

He didn't hesitate to act.

The android twisted his body and launched himself at Hank.

The deviant fired his shot, just barely missing them both as they started crashing towards the floor.

Connor felt the displaced air of the bullet, before he felt the collision of their bodies onto the ground. Hank grunted, the air being forced out his lungs as they made impact.

Connor rolled off of the older man as soon as they hit the floor. The android aimed his gun towards the perp, but Owen had already moved for cover.

Adrenaline had Hank scrambling to his feet and pulling Connor with him as they got to cover behind the entry way they had just come through.

The deviant popped out from behind his cover and shot alarmingly close to Hank’s head as he tried to peer around the wall. Connor quickly pushed the man back and returned fire just as Owen attempted to take another head shot.

His aim was as accurate as it always was and the deviant dropped dead to the floor with a bullet between his eyes.

Owen's last shot flew wide and struck the mysterious device in the center of the room.

Connor and Hank relaxed for a moment before a wave of energy rushed towards them and threw them backwards off their feet.

Connor's systems were completely overwhelmed and everything went black.

Chapter Text

"Uhh..."

Hank groaned. His head was pounding. The older man had barely managed to crack an eye open when he was nearly blinded by light.

He groaned again, with a little bit more strength behind the noise. It articulated the pure misery he was feeling. Hank's face was pressed against the gritty pavement, road maybe, as he laid flat on his stomach. His uncooperative limbs were sprawled out around him.

Hank tried to breathed through his nose. Wherever he was, it smelled terrible, but this wasn't the first time he'd woken up like this behind some dingy bar-

Connor! The Warehouse.

Hank's eyes slammed open, adrenaline kicking in.

Where was Connor? Was he alright?

The Lieutenant's arms shook as he struggled to get them under him, taking in the ...alleyway around him.

What?

He swung his head around, dizziness and nausea making themselves known, until he saw Connor laying a few feet behind him. Hank stumbled on unsteady legs and clumsily made his way over to the android.

His knees forcefully hit the ground beside Connor. He too was laying face down on the ground. His eyes were closed and his LED was slowly cycling yellow. Hank gently laid a hand on Connor's shoulder, trying to wake him.

"Connor? CONNOR!" Hank roughly shook the kid's shoulder. Maybe he should slap him?

The android's body jerked and his eyes fluttered open, LED stuttering yellow/red as awareness seemed to come back to him.

"H-Hank?"

"Yeah, it's me. You ok, kid?" He gruffly replied. His head was killing him.

Connor's eyes twitched rapidly back and forth. If Hank learned anything in the last four months, he would say that Connor was probably dismissing Error Messages. Hank's face creased in worry. "Son?"

"Sorry, Hank. I'm alright." He paused, slowly rolling himself to his side. "I've taken some minor damage, but it's nothing that my self-repair protocol can't fix." Connor pushed himself into a seated position. "Are you alright, Hank?"

The android's eyes seemed to hone in on the older man. Scanning him, probably.

Hank rolled his eyes, actually less annoyed then his tone betrayed. "Knock it off, kid. I'm fine. Head's killing me, but I'm good." He smirked before dragging a calloused hand down his face.

Connor's eyes narrowed in confusion as he began taking in the alleyway around them.

"Hank? Where are we?" His LED blinked yellow as he tried to process his new and very different surroundings.

Hank shrugged his shoulders in response to the question, again looking around the alley to get a better idea of where they were. Connor attempted to wirelessly tap into the CyberLife satellites or any authorized satellites he normally used.

ERROR: Unable To Connect

He tried to run the command again.

ERROR: Unable To Connect

Connor's eyes widened in surprise. Ok, don't freak out, Connor. Don't freak out.

The android released a slow breath. Ignoring Hank's questioning look, Connor wirelessly tried to ping any satellite he could. After a tense moment-

Accessing Satellite...

Connor started receiving the information that was now available and .... wait. WHAT?

Distantly, he realized the emotion he was currently feeling was panic. His LED staccatoed Red.

He suddenly couldn't breathe. Why couldn't he breathe? Was he shaking?

Stress Level: 84%

Hank's face was suddenly all he could see. Both of the Lieutenant's hands were on his shoulders. Grounding. Steadying.

Stress Level: 79%

Almost instantly, Connor could think again. He was going to be alright. They were going to be alright. Hank was here and that's all that mattered.

"Connor, what's going on?" Hank's eyes flicked to Connor's LED, which was now flashing yellow.

Stress Level: 70%

"I'm-I'm not sure." He took a steadying breath, slowly letting it out. "I couldn't access the CyberLife satellites like I normally do, so I tried pinging ANY satellite that I could."

They were going to be ok. They were going to be ok. Hank was here.

"I was able to access one, finally, but the... information I'm receiving, " Connor's hands were shaking again " is very strange. I-It says that the date is March 3rd, 2019."

Again, Why Can't He Breathe?

Hank was regarding him with unconcealed worry. "The information also says that there have been t-two alien invasions. Two. One in New York, which is where we are by the way, and one in Africa, in a country that I've never heard of."

"Connor." Hank started in the most steady voice he could manage, the one he saved exclusively for traumatized victims. " Son, that's not possibl-"

"Hank! I'm not lying." Connor burst out. "I didn't think it was possible either so I've just pinged three other satellites and received the same information. " Calculations and reconstructions were rapidly computed in his processor. " Th-the device that exploded, must have .. pushed us into an -an alternate reality... in the Multiverse." He paused, eyes flicking down to the ground. "And the past."

Hank stared at the android incredulously. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a newspaper stuck behind a dumpster, flapping around in the light breeze cutting through the alley. His mind froze for a moment.

A Newspaper.

Those things didn't exist anymore. Everything was on tablets and had been for years.

Hank patted the kid on the shoulder and lumbered to his feet. Walking across the alley, he grabbed the crumpled paper. The older man smoothed out the edges and looked at the date.

March 1st, 2019.

What. The. Hell.

Alarmed, he looked over at the the shocked android still sitting on the ground. Hank let go of the newspaper and hustled to the edge of the alley and looked up.

The Empire State Building.

And some monstrosity with a giant "A" on it.

Jogging back over to Connor, Hank knelt in front of the android, who he could tell was quietly freaking out. His LED was going crazy. He placed his hand on the kid's shoulder again. He remembered what Connor had said about self-destructing androids during that interrogation the week before the Android Revolution. That android had gotten so worked up that he had killed himself.

"Connor." Nothing. "Hey, Connor."

Ok, maybe a slap in the face would help now. The corner of Hank's mouth ticked up just a little. Ah, sweet revenge.

As Hank started to raise his left hand, Connor turned to face him, aborting the older man's movement.

"Hank, we need to get off the street. We need to blend in, find shelter and-and you need food. And to get both of those things, we will need income."

"Ok, " Hank's eyes widened as he drew out the word. It was like a switch had flipped. Mission-Mode-Connor: Engaged. Stay tuned for the full blown panic attack later, not that Hank himself wasn't going to also freak out later.

"And how do you suggest we get income?" He pulled out his wallet, started leafing through the few bills he actually had on him. He didn't think his credit card would be accepted here. He glanced back up at the kid. His yellow LED was like a strobe light.

"I have accessed several servers and created a new identity for you. Also, I created a bank account and routed funds into the account. Detective Hank Anderson, recently transferred from Detroit PD to the NYPD." Connor stood and brushed off his suit. It was good having something to be able to focus on.

Hank stared at him in disbelief. " Uhh, ok." He blinked owlishly at the android's information dump. "...and what about you?"

The android suddenly grew shy, wringing his hands. He shrugged, "I believe it would be most beneficial for me to apply for a job at Stark Industries for a mechanical engineering position."

Again, Hank shrugged and crossed his arms against his chest. "Never heard of it."

"Anthony Stark Jr., A.K.A. Iron Man, is the," he hesitated, searching for the right words, "equivalent to Elijah Kamski of this timeline. I believe if we are going to be able to find a way home, our best chances lie with Mr. Stark and the resources at Stark Industries."

Hank groaned audibly and rolled his eyes. In Connor's opinion, the gesture was overly dramatic. Although, maybe not, considering where and when they were... and also what happened the last time they were with Mr. Kamski.

"I still have the information I downloaded from the PJ500 that assisted in the engineering lab case we worked on last month." He pitched his head forward as he spoke. "I would be able to perform the tasks required for this job. The only thing I need is a name." Hank marveled as Connor suddenly swallowed nervously and avoided eye contact with the older man. "I'm open to suggestions."

Hank huffed a small laugh and shook his head. "Well I think it's, ya' know, time we made it official anyway. You're, uh, family to me, kid." He brought a hand up to his face and stroked his beard in contemplation. "Connor Anderson, my son, has a nice ring to it." He gestured between Connor and himself.

Connor's face froze for a moment before Hank found his arms full of the android. After a moment, Connor pulled back and gave Hank a watery smile. "Thank you, Hank-Dad." The android looked away timidly again.

Smiling softly, the older man cupped the back of Connor's neck and squeezed gently.

"Ok, done." A moment later, a self-satisfied smile graced the android's face as he stood to his feet. "We are Detective Hank Anderson and Connor Anderson, recently moved from Detroit. We have bank accounts, funds and I have located a possible two bedroom apartment between your new precinct and my, hopefully, new place of work. I also have references from your old Lieutenant and Captain, as well as references from my past internships and a few of my old professors."

Connor looked around him and noted the time as 3:32pm. "Hank, we should make our way to the apartment. We have a lot to do tonight. "

Hank nodded in agreement and started to walk off towards the street, when a thought occurred to him. He turned back towards Connor, the kid only a step behind. The older man grimaced before pointing to Connor's face.

"Hey Con, uh, we gotta do something about your mood ring." Hank grimaced just thinking about what this was going to entail.

Connor frowned, bringing up a hand to rub his LED. "I - " He hesitated, conflict clearly on his face. Hank's heart broke a little at the sight. He knew Connor hadn't really been ready to ditch the LED yet, if he ever would be. It took quite a few conversations with Connor to get the kid to permanently lose the CyberLife jacket.

"-yeah. Yes. Of Course." He looked to Hank resolutely, hands clenching into tight fists. He nodded. "Hank, do you still have your knife on you?"

Hank nodded and fished his Swish Army Knife out of his pocket. He flicked the blade out and looked into Connor's eyes. Silent understanding passed between them and Connor drew in a calming breath. He angled his LED towards Hank in absolute trust.

The Lieutenant brought the blade up to Connor's LED and gently gripped the kid's chin with his other hand. Connor halted his breathing, his LED stuttering yellow and red. Hank pointed the tip of his knife just under the light and leveraged it up.

With a soft "pop" the LED came out and clinked onto the ground.

ERROR: Biocomponent #9301 No Longer Available

Please See a CyberLife Technician

Hank grunted as he bent down and plucked the dead LED off the ground. He really was getting old. When he straightened, Connor was rubbing off the blue blood from the small cut that was made.

The older man moved to pat the android on the shoulder as he pretended not to notice Connor quickly wipe a rogue tear from his face.

Connor exhaled shakily. "Can you hold onto that?" he asked, nodding towards the LED in Hank's hand, but not really looking at it.

"Sure, kid. Let's get go check out that apartment. I guess neither of us are collecting on that bet, huh?" Hank asked in an attempt to lighten the mood a little.

"I don't know, Hank. I mean, he was an android." Connor said matter-of-factly.

The older man rolled his eyes so hard it hurt. "Ugh, fine. I'll pay up when we get home." 

Chapter Text

The apartment that Connor had found for them was a medium sized, two bedroom apartment. With their newly acquired funds and an ATM trip, it was something that they could easily afford. Since they paid their first six months up front and in cash, their new, eager landlord let them "move in" immediately.

As soon as the two men were alone, they locked up their new place and headed out for supplies.

And that's how they found themselves making their way down one of the isles at the nearest grocery store.

Hank rolled his eyes and groaned at his stupid android. The kid kept filling up the cart with only healthy food. Again, the android grabbed some carrots, studied it intensely before seemingly coming to a decision about them and gently placing the vegetables into the cart.  

Ugh, vegetables.

Thankfully, their new place already came furnished with a fridge and a stove or else all this fresh produce that they just had to buy would be going to waste.

Hank barely suppressed a groan as Connor added celery and cucumbers to the cart.

He knew it was better to just not fight the kid on this. He knew. He'd learned that lesson the hard way. There had been a lot of pouting and sad, puppy dog eyes involved and absolutely none of it had come from Sumo. The older man supposed he should be grateful that Connor wasn't licking anything. This time. 

Honestly though, they just got thrown into another dimension. Why he couldn't stress eat some pizza tonight was beyond him. Just... what the hell?

All of Hanks thoughts on the unfairness of life and the unfairness of Connor in particular came to a screeching halt as he spied the next surprise item of his new favorite game, "Connor Eats." The faces the android made were always priceless.

Something that Hank would have liked to have know about when he first met Connor, though it was probably better that he didn't for obvious reasons, was that the android actually had a small stomach biocomponent and deactivatable taste buds - taste sensors- or whatever. When Hank did eventually find out, they started this game and have been playing ever since.

"Connor. Connor." Hank pawed at the young man's shoulder to get his attention. The android immediately stopped his analysis of the lettuce in his hands and inclined his head toward him.

The older man pointed at the very green, very sour, Granny Smith apples to his right.

"Con, you gotta try these. I think you'll like them, kid." He lied, like a parent holding out a bright, tantalizingly colored lemon wedge to their naive baby.

Connor regarded him dubiously, his body turning to fully face the man and giving Hank is undivided attention. "Three out of four food items you ask me to try are usually," he paused, searching for the right words, "repulsive. Only half of those foods turn out to be better after a repeated taste test." His brows furrowed in disapproval, but his tone suggested he found this whole game amusing too.

Hank grinned and added the apples to the cart.

The lettuce found it's way in there too.

Damn.

With Hank's food taken care of and deposited at the apartment, the two men made their way to a hardware store followed up with a trip to an electronics store to pick up the supplies Connor would need. They managed to collect most of the things the android would require to produce a Thirium 310 like substance, a skill and formula he had developed after the revolution. Just in case.

Anything else he needed could be ordered on the internet. Though not perfect, the compound that Connor would create would be adequate enough to sustain him, baring any serious damage where he needed a complete Thirium transfusion. Then he would be in trouble. Hopefully, they wouldn't have to worry about that.

After their shopping excursions for sustenance, the sun had set and they decided to head back to the apartment for the night. After setting up and putting away the things they had purchased, Hank and Connor reconvened in the kitchen to cook dinner, order furniture and order anything else they would need.

Connor's image projecting hand and brain directly connected to the internet really came in handy, in Hank's pun-intended opinion. He said as much. Connor glared at Hank's dad joke.

His human was very strange sometimes. Ok, most of the time. 

With overnight shipping, all items we're expected for delivery tomorrow so Connor and Hank only had to camp out on the floors for one night before their beds came.

The two men would probably be living under these fake identities for at least a few months so they needed to make sure they got their stories straight.

Thankfully, Connor's CPU was much more advanced then practically everything in this world, so their identities, histories, digital foot prints and past testimonials we're easy enough to fabricate and make look extremely real.

Hank reported for his first shift with the NYPD Precinct 17 in three days and Connor went for his job interview at Stark Industries in four days.

It was a good thing they had some down time over the next few days. They desperately needed the time to catch up on and memorize major current events and political figures; like Tony Stark, Captain America, two alien invasions and half of the world's population "dusting" for about thirty seconds before everyone just suddenly reappeared with no explanation.

This wasn't the first time Connor had gone undercover, but this just felt so immensely different. They were usually short stints lasting at most a few hours and all he went in with was Hank's old jacket, a beanie and a prayer. Truthfully, he was scared.

Connor raised a hand to rub the spot where his LED had been. It was strange not feeling the small, flat circle. He hadn't really been ready to give that up and now it was gone permanently. Due to circumstances out of his control, he was changed forever. Again. 

He exhaled shakily. If he still had the LED, Connor knew it would be rapidly flashing yellow and red.

Stress Level: 52%

"Con, you ok, kid? " Hank asked from beside him, his fork hovering mid motion over his salad.

Startled from his thoughts, the android practically jumped in his seat.

Hank's eyebrows rose in surprise and he calmly set down his fork. That was not the reaction Hank had been expecting.

The older man gently laid his calloused hand on Connor's shoulder, squeezing softly.

"You worried?"

"Yeah," was Connor's subdued response. His mouth opened slightly and his eyes drifted to the side. "How did you know?"

Hank's hand dropped to grip Connor's forearm before coming to rest on the table again. The older man seemed to consider the android for a moment.

Hank pointed to his own temple. "You might not have your mood ring anymore, but I've never needed that to know what you're thinking, kid."

"I know this whole situation is, quite frankly, insane," He paused, eyes going wide for emphasis, "but you and me, we're in this together. Just like we've always been. And we're gonna figure it out. Together. Ok?" The Lieutenant picked up his fork and started stabbing at his meal again, but still kept his eyes on Connor.

Together.

Software Instability Detected

Stress Level: 27%

The word did something strange, unidentifiable - good to Connor's biocomponents. A small, shy smile tugged at his lips and he instinctually ducked his head, nodding in agreement with Hank's short but meaningful speech.

"Thank you, Hank."

The older man casually bumped his shoulder into Connor's. The android's smile grew wider and Connor gently bumped his shoulder back.

An hour later, Hank was laying on the floor, shoes off and legs crossed at the ankles. His jacket was messily folded and shoved under his head. He knew for a fact that his back was going to be killing him tomorrow, but right now he was too tired to care.

Connor laid down next to him, lying flat on the floor. After a moment, the android sat up and took off his sports coat. He leaned over Hank and draped the jacket over Hank's upper body.

The older man's brows jumped towards his hairline. "Connor-"

"Hank," Connor interrupted placatingly, "I'm comfortable in this temperature. Please," he paused for emphasis, "I want you to take it."

Hank grumbled a bit. "Thanks, kid."

The android smiled. Statistically, Hank usually didn't say "no" when Connor talked about things that he wanted. The android laid back down and after a few minutes, Hank's quiet snores filled the apartment.

Connor was a state of the art prototype and sometimes, like now, he really hated that.

He was programmed to be aware of everything going on around him at all times. Before deviating, he had to analyze his environment and assess dangers and safety. Everything had to check out and be just right before entering Rest Mode.

Now, well, Connor's feelings were involved in that process. Feeling calm and safe played a large part in Connor's ability to enter Rest Mode. Usually just being in the same room or even the same house with Hank was enough to settle him.

But right now, he just couldn't calm down.

Stubbornly, he tried running Rest Mode again.

UNABLE TO ENTER REST MODE

Consult A CyberLife Technician

Connor rolled his eyes at the useless error message.

Maybe running through his objectives list would help him calm down. According to Hank, it was kind of weird, but doing this usually worked for Connor.

He clasped his hands over his abdomen, idly tapping his fingers and exhaled slowly.

Tomorrow's Objectives:

Buy cell phones and phone plans

         Install GPS Tracking Apps in case of emergencies on both phones

Set up apartment

Go over cover stories again

Memorize current events

         Quiz Hank on current events. More than once.

Make Thirium supplements

Buy clothes for Hank and I

Hack into and connect to FBI, Interpol, CIA and Police Department Databases

His stress levels dropped already.

Hank mumbled in his sleep and a smirk crossed Connor's face as he glanced at the older man.

Secondary Mission:

Find a way home

         Investigate and determine viability of Stark Industries in getting us home

         Investigate alternative means of returning home

Find trustworthy allies

Keep and maintain covers

Connor's eyes slipped closed.

Entering Rest Mode: 5 Seconds

Primary Mission: 

Ongoing Since November 11th. 11:08 pm.

Protect Hank Anderson

Chapter Text

March 2019

Three days later, Hank stood in front of his new precinct with his head craned back to see the extent of the tall building. Bringing a hand up, Hank unconsciously rubbed the back of his head, but abruptly stopped the motion. The short bristles there still caught him by surprise a full twenty four hours later.

Yesterday, Connor had all but ambushed him and reminded him of the NYPD dress and hair code.

Brandishing a pair of sharp scissors and a borderline maniacal smile, the kid motioned threateningly with his scissors to the chair he had set up in the middle of the living room.

"Sit down, Hank." And while the kid's crazy smile lost some of its edge, the evil gleam in his eyes had not.

The little punk had apparently downloaded hair cutting programs after the revolution. "Just in case."

What a Liar.

And Hank had told him that too. The kid had chuckled, shrugged and dramatically chopped the scissors in preparation of Hank's impending haircut.

Hank sighed heavily and rubbed his short hair. He had to give the kid credit though. Connor had actually done a nice job. It was short on the sides, a little bit longer on top, and still within regulation. Jeffrey had really let Hank get away with a lot.

If they ever made it back home, he needed to remember to buy an expensive bottle of bourbon for the Captain.

Checking his watch, Hank noted the time. He couldn't really put this off any longer, so he made his way up the stairs towards the front door. The young officer working the desk directed him on where to get his new badge and gun and what floor he needed to report for duty.

As Hank exited the elevator on the fifth floor, he stepped out, located his new captain's office on the far side of the hectic, crowded bullpen and made his way over. Uniformed and plain clothes personnel scurried about. Hank had to navigate around quite a few people, but he eventually made it, relatively unscathed.

Standing outside the closed door, Hank knocked and waited a beat before he heard a voice telling him to enter.

Pushing the door open, Hank stepped inside and was greeted by the sight of Captain Yuriko Watanabe, based on the name plate on her desk. The woman was of Asian decent with short, black hair, a fit build and an exasperated look on her face. Jeffrey always had that same look too. Maybe it came with the rank.

Across from her desk sat a man a little bit younger than Hank, white, with reddish blond hair and a lanky build.

"Captain Watanabe? I'm Detective Hank Anderson. Reporting for duty, Ma'am."

The Captain looked him over assessingly. She nodded, stood and stuck out her hand in greeting.

As they shook, Watanabe briskly said, "Welcome to the team, Detective. I hear you're joining us from Detroit?" Hank nodded.

"Well, we're glad to have you." She retook her seat and motioned for Hank to take the empty chair.

Indicating the other man, the Captain continued, "This is Lieutenant George Stacy. He'll be your new partner. A case just came in, a B&E gone bad. One homicide, one witness."

"Well, gentlemen, I've got a meeting in ten minutes that I need to get to. Find me a killer." She continued and motioned towards the door. Both men shared a look, Stacy grinning at Watanabe's abrupt dismissal. "And George, show Anderson where his desk is."

Stacy nodded and both men stood, making their way out of the office. Hank appreciated the Captain's no-nonsense demeanor. He hated the crap that people said just to make noise and fill the silence.

As Hank closed the door behind him, Stacy turned and held out his hand to shake Hank's. "You can call me George. You prefer Hank or Anderson?" The younger man asked as Hank returned the greeting.

"Hank. Nice to meet you. So, where am I parking it?" The older man shoved a hand into his pocket and shrugged languidly.

George gave him a smile that reminded Hank a bit of Jack Nicholson and motioned for the older man to follow. He led them over to George's desk that was set up across from an empty work space.

For a moment, Hank was struck by a sense of Deja Vu; the memory of leading Connor over to an empty desk prominent in his mind.

So much had happened in the last few months. So much had changed.

Shaking his head and refocusing on the here and now, he turned to George. "So," he pointed at the case file in Stacy's hand. "Shall we?"

George nodded and the two men made their way toward the elevator.

Thirty minutes later, they were still stuck in traffic. Apparently, construction workers in this alternate reality still did construction in major cities during the day too.

What a load of crap.

Hank was getting antsy, but at least George seemed to have good taste in music. Queen's "Bohemian Rhapsody" played softly on the radio.

George leaned to his right in the driver's seat of the car, resting his forearm on the center console. "So, what made you move to New York? You got any family here?" He asked.

Hank nodded. Just the thought of Cole hurt, but he realized his answer now was going to be a truthful one too. "Yeah, my son Connor wants to work for Stark Industries. I followed him out here after he graduated college. You got family?" Hank noted George's gold wedding ring on the man's left hand.

The Lieutenant nodded. "Married with three kids. Two boys and a girl."

"Oh?" Hank's eyes widened, "That's a lot of kids." He chuckled. "How old are they?"

George smiled knowingly. "My daughter is sixteen and my sons are ten and eight. How old is Connor?"

"He's twenty one, just turned twenty one actually." Hank nodded his head and pursed his lips to keep from cracking a smile. Technically, Connor was only four-ish months old and just thinking about that almost made Hank laugh.

"I might actually die the day my daughter turns twenty one!" Stacy bemoaned, his face creasing with stress.

Hank chuckled gruffly, nodding his head in agreement.

"So, Stark Industries?" George asked.

"Yeah," the older man nodded. "He's got an interview tomorrow for a mechanical engineering position."

Stacy grinned widely, looking impressed. "Very cool. Tell him I said, 'Good luck.'"

Four hours, one traumatized witness, a crime scene and two dead end leads later, the men decided to take a break for lunch.

"Any preferences?" George asked, getting back into the car and starting it up.

Hank sighed like his soul was escaping his mortal body.

George eyed him in surprise. "Wow! You ok? I didn't think it was that bad of a question." He chuckled at Hank's sorrowful expression.

"Connor- Connor has me on a new diet. Uh, 'life style change.'" He made finger quotes and rolled his eyes so hard it hurt. "Kid's got me eating salad and ... other disgusting things. I think I heard him muttering to himself about a 'liver cleanse' the other day." The older man shuddered in dread. "If he finds out I didn't eat something relatively healthy, I'll honestly never hear the end of it. And he will find out. He always does." He leaned back against the head rest in exasperation. "It's just not worth it."

George quietly sniggered in his seat next to him.

Hank shot him the dirtiest look he could muster. If looks could kill...

It just made George laugh harder.

"Don't worry, I understand and I know just the place that will appease my wife and your son. Oh-"

George started pulling the car over to a convenience store on their right. "Real quick, I told my wife I'd pick up a couple of things on my break. You need anything?"

Hank thought for a moment before nodding. "Yeah, Post-It notes."

George gave him a weird look.

Eight something hours later, Hank stumbled tiredly into the apartment, carrying a small plastic bag.

Connor looked up from the meal he was cooking. Hank perked up when he spied the stir-fry, one of his favorites in the kid's repertoire, that the android was making.

A fond smile graced the android's features. "Hi, Hank. How was your day?"

"I'll tell you all about it over dinner. I could use your opinion on the case actually, but first ..." Hank hurriedly made his way to the table and dumped the contents of the bag.

Three packs of Post-It notes dropped out: red, yellow and blue.

For a second, Connor froze as he took in the sight before him. When he looked up, his smile was even brighter and it warmed Hank's old, sentimental heart.

The Post-It notes were a visual reminder that they used back home for Connor, and for Hank too, of all the things the kid liked in blue, the things he didn't like in red, and all the new feelings he had in yellow.

Hank felt that it was important for Connor to see, to work through the emotions and all the new things going on around him. Connor especially needed to acknowledge that, yes, these are feelings and they are a good thing. Sometimes Connor had to be reminded that he is actually alive.

Suddenly having sentience was complicated enough without PTSD.

Hank mirrored Connor's smile and grabbed a pen out of his pocket. He started rewriting the list they had compiled on the fridge at Hank's house.

The first one, Hank chuckled, was "Detective Reed" on a red Post-It note.

Chapter Text

March 2019

The next day, Connor exited rest mode at exactly 5:30 am. Hank had to report for his shift at 7:00 am and Connor had wanted to make the older man a healthy breakfast before he left.

Connor's eyes fluttered open to his stark, white ceiling. If left to his own devices, the Lieutenant would have some coffee on the go and that was it.

The android sighed. He really shouldn't be so hard on the man. In the last four months, Hank had made considerable, albeit begrudging, strides towards improving his health and Connor knew the older man was only doing it for the android. He was immensely grateful.

5:31 am

He would allowed himself thirty more seconds to lay in his new bed. Hank said that it was ok to relax sometimes. "Not have a stick up your ass" was the exact wording the older man had used nearly four months ago when Hank had tried to explain to the android how to "take it easy."

Connor struggled to take in a breath. He missed home and he missed going to work with Hank. He missed Sumo so, so much. The giant St. Bernard used to sleep on or next to him almost every night. The dog's presence was incredibly comforting to him.

A few tears slipped from his eyes. The android exhaled shakily.

There was an almost painful ache in his thirium pump and Connor lifted a hand to subconsciously rub the area on his chest.

"Son," Connor's head jerked to his opening door, "You ok in here? I thought you'd be up by n-" Hank abruptly stopped when he saw the distress, the tears, on his face.

Connor hurriedly pushed himself into a seated position and wiped his eyes.

Hank's hand not holding his coffee mug fluttered erratically in the air for a moment before setting the coffee down on the dresser to his right. In three quick steps, he was across the room and sitting next to Connor. His hands gently took hold of Connor's shoulders and turned the android towards him.

Connor had to stop himself from instinctually resisting and trying to curl up, hide away and pretend he wasn't just crying in his bed.  He settled for looking at his lap instead, unable to meet Hank's knowing gaze.

"You ok, kid?" The older man asked.

The android nodded, not really trusting his voice.

"Con. Son, look at me."

Hank's warm hands on his shoulders, the body heat coming from the older man, the very physical knowledge that he wasn't alone was almost overwhelming.

Unbidden, the audio file from a few nights ago sounded in his mind.

"...but you and me, we're in this together. Just like we've always been. And we're gonna figure it out. Together. Ok?"

Brown eyes snapped up to meet steel blue and Connor could not stop the tears that started to fall. He lurched forward into his father's embrace, arms snaking around the man's back.

Hank grunted in surprise but quickly adapted and reciprocated the hug just as fiercely.

The android was extremely grateful for the way the older man rolled with the punches, so to speak.

Connor opened his mouth, his vocal unit glitching out for a second ,"I- I just m-miss home. I miss Sumo." He paused, trying to explain what he was feeling. "It hurts. It hurts right here." Connor withdrew one of his hands from Hank's back to point at his chest.
From this position, Hank couldn't see but he nodded anyway, somehow understanding like he always did.

"I know kid, me too. Me too." The older man whispered gruffly.

They stayed that way for a while, both offering what comfort they could to each other. At exactly 6:00 am, Connor prompted the older man to finish getting ready for work and although Hank was reluctant to leave him alone, he eventually agreed.

A new yellow Post-It note found it's way to the fridge later.

Saudade -a deep emotional state of nostalgic or profound melancholic longing for an absent something or someone that one loves

Hank was ready to go to work with about fifteen minutes to spare until he needed to actually leave the apartment, so he sat with Connor as the kid picked out different suit/tie combinations. Hank's brain hurt just thinking about it, but somehow the android was able to calculate the percentages of his chance of success and again, somehow the shirt/suit/tie combos were factoring into it.

Hank knew Connor's supercomputer brain reconstructed, preconstructed and calculated hundreds of scenarios a second, but he really didn't understand how the kid's clothing choices were going to factor into it.

Ok, Hank could logically see how showing up to the interview dressed like a bum would hurt his chances.

Connor had tried to explain his brain a few different times and for Hank's sake did so again just now. Hank was fairly confident that every time the kid did, he understood just a little bit more. The RK800 manual Hank had managed to get his hands on after the revolution and actually read a bunch of times probably helped the most though.

Anyway, the kid finally settled on a dark blue suit, a white shirt and a black tie. Very sleek, very smart, very Connor.

It was the same outfit Hank knew he would pick the second he sat down in the android's room.

He smirked. Did he know his kid or did he know his kid?

Speaking of, "Hey Connor." Hank stood from his seat on the android's bed. "Listen, I just wanna remind you. Be, you know, a little more... calm- normal when you're on the interview. Blend in." Connor's brows dipped in confusion, like he had absolutely no idea what the man could possibly be talking about.

"You know, don't go spouting the chemical analysis of the things you can taste in the air, or the probabilities of the person in front of you dying from a massive coronary, or actually- actually take off one of your arms."

Connor's mouth hung open slightly, his whole demeanor looked offended. He practically radiated indignation, like Hank was being the ridiculous one here.

Hank patiently waited as the four month old stared him down. About ten seconds into their impromptu starting contest, the kid's expression slowly morphed into the wide eyed realization, that yes, he had in fact done all of those things in public.

To actual, living people.

Hank smirked and made his way out of the room, only to stop, backtrack Michael Jackson style to the doorway and poke his head back into the room. "And Connor, for crying out loud, don't lick anything."

Yeah, he knew his kid.

Connor's interview was scheduled to begin at 9:30 am.

At precisely 8:00 am, Connor double checked his list of things he needed to bring with him and headed out the door.

Stress Level: 21%

He followed his pre-planned route and arrived at the Starbucks across the street from Stark Industries three minutes behind his calculations.

Stress Level: 25%

Now, he had twenty seven minutes until he needed to enter Stark Industries in order to get through security in a timely manner. By his calculations, he would then be twenty minutes early for his meeting.

Connor was grateful that he had spent most of yesterday figuring out and testing spoofing his CPU to make it look like any incoming messages, internet searches or pings were coming from his new cell phone and not directly from him.

It was one less thing he had to worry about today. He'd rather not set off any security alarms at Stark Industries.

Probability of Successfully Obtaining Job at Stark Industries: 62%

Connor waited online, ordered a small cup of green tea and sat down at an empty table to wait and "blend in." The android rolled his eyes, despite sitting by himself. He was more than capable of acting normally. Thank you very much, Hank. Sometimes, he just said or did ... socially abnormal things.

Probability of Successfully Obtaining Job at Stark Industries: 59%

Stress Levels: 52%

Connor slowly exhaled. He needed something to distract himself with, so he pulled out his calibration quarter and quietly ran it over his knuckles, again and again. With his other hand, he grabbed onto his tea and fiddle with the cardboard sleeve.

He inhaled, looked around and instinctually used his scanners to determine his environmental safety.

Time seemed to slow down in his processor as he noticed to his right, a young man expertly pick-pocketing an older woman's wallet.

Blend in.

Be normal.

Perpetrator Identity:  Vladimir Alyskewycz

Age: 26

Criminal Record: Theft, Assault, Breaking and Entering, Possession

Victim Identity:  Rosa Ortega

Age: 72

Criminal Record: None

Do Nothing

     Or

Intervene

The choices and their preconstructions lay before Connor. He could do nothing, should do nothing. If there was a physical altercation when he intervened, which was very likely, his chances of being hired by Stark Industries could plummet.

However, he was an officer of the law, sworn to protect and serve.

Yet, Connor needed to make sure that both Hank and he were able to return home. He needed to keep them safe, make sure Hank was safe. This was his priority, above all else.

Connor made his choice.

Do Nothing

And just as time reasserted itself around him, Connor found himself unable to do just that.

Releasing his cup and tucking his coin back into his jacket pocket, Connor stood and quickly closed the distance between the thief and himself. Just as the man began walking away from the older woman with her wallet in hand, Connor grabbed that hand and twisted it backwards while smoothly using his free hand to push and hold the thief's shoulder down. Connor effectively trapped Vladimir, unless the perp was willing to have his arm broken or dislocated.

The hold was performed abruptly and people around him gasped at the seemingly unprovoked attack. Some bystanders even began to take out their phones.

"Sir," Connor stated calmly, ever the negotiator. "That wallet is not yours. Please return it."

Vladimir, stupid Vlad, tried to struggle against Connor's grip and use his free hand to get to a partially concealed knife on the other side of his waist. Connor anticipated this and easily adjusted, applying more pressure to Vlad's joints to cease the useless flailing.

"Sir, stop. The wallet?" Connor airily reminded him, like the man hadn't just reached for a weapon and like the android couldn't easily snap his arm like a twig.

By RA9, he missed being a cop.

Rosa looked at the wallet, recognition sparking in her eyes. "Hey, that's mine!" The bright pink item in question was still being held in Vlad's unyielding grip.

"Lady, it's my wallet." Vlad ground out through clenched teeth. Connor's programming happily informed him that this particular restraining hold was quite painful.

"Really, Sir?" Connor bent down a bit to catch stupid Vlad's eyes, before plastering a perfect copy of Hank's best, sarcastic smile onto his own face. "The color clashes with your outfit."

A few people around him chuckled and Rosa yanked the wallet out of Vlad's hand. She quickly opened it and no one was really all that surprised to see her ID in the front pocket.

As soon as Connor released Vlad, the man scurried out of the Starbucks faster than Connor's preconstruction had thought possible.

The android rapidly glanced around the Starbucks. A few people had their phones recording the display and Connor felt his stress levels jump up. Some onlookers began clapping and Rosa stepped forward to thank him.

Connor felt his processors blank out; no dialogue prompts, no thoughts, no preconstructions - just the overwhelming need to get out of there.

Maintain Cover

Quickly glancing around the room, Connor nodded to Rosa, grabbed his tea and made a beeline for the street. When his stress level came back down and his processor seemed to reboot, the back log of information pouring in from his quick glance around the Starbucks was troubling.

His facial recognition program identified the two men with ball caps standing at the back of the Starbucks as Captain Steven Rogers and Sergeant James Barnes.

Stress Level: 69%

Two hours later, Connor had met and interviewed with the mechanical engineering and applied sciences department heads. Now, he waited patiently in the interview room he'd been in for the last hour.

When Doctor Emily Wong exited the room, she turned directly into the room next to it. She quietly opened the door to Tony Stark lounging with his feet up on the table and a large bowl of popcorn in his hands.

Beside him stood Captain America in a plain clothes, civilian outfit. Why he was in the interview observation room, she had no idea and frankly, she didn't want to know.
Completely used to the antics of her boss, Emily gestured toward the two way mirror looking into the interview room.

"What do you think, Mr. Stark?" She clasped her hands in front of her.

Tony narrowed his eyes a little as he studied Connor Anderson subtly pulling out a quarter and quickly rolling it across his fingers. The action made Tony wonder if the kid was bored or if this was a nervous tic. "Well, Dr. Wong, I think his grades from MIT and the IQ level are very nice. You and Dr. Johnson both like him?" He looked back to the woman.

"Yes, we do. He's a bit quirky, maybe a little serious." She gestured towards Connor. "Could just be nerves, but I think he'll fit in nicely either way."

Tony tilted his head toward the Captain, "And this is the guy you said stopped an armed thief? Got to him before you or Barnes could?"

The Captain nodded, impressed. "Yeah."

Tony hummed and turned back towards the candidate. Connor's face twitched for a second, like he just thought of something funny and couldn't quite conceal the expression.

Tony abruptly dropped his legs from the table with a  loud thump and jumped to his feet. "I wanna meet him."

Hank: Did you hear that the energizer bunny was arrested?

313 248 317 - 52: What is an energizer bunny?

Searching....

313 248 317 - 52: Oh, never mind. Why was it arrested?

Hank: He was charged with assault and battery.

Connor's lips twitched, trying not to laugh. Hank's jokes were terrible.

The door to the room slammed open and Connor jumped in his seat, his thirium pump leaping into action like he was in an on foot pursuit.

The former CEO of Stark Industries, his facial recognition program unnecessarily identified as Anthony Stark Jr., entered the room dramatically.

Connor almost rolled his eyes as he dismissed the useless identifying information. He already knew who Tony Stark was. In one smooth motion, Connor pocketed his coin, stood and extended his hand in greeting as his social relations protocol took over. "Mr. Stark, it's a pleasure to meet you."

Stark reciprocated, smiling like - what is it Hank says, ah- like the cat that ate the canary. "Oh, I'm sure it is." He took a seat and Connor followed his example.

The older man clapped his hands together. "So, I heard about the Starbucks this morning." He looked at Connor expectantly.

Thrown by the statement, Connor's preconstructions and dialogue prompts winked out of existence for the second time today. He was left floundering, blinking owlishly as he tried to find something to say.

Tony Stark's eyes narrowed and one eyebrow lifted.

Say Something

"Uh," Oh great, good start Connor. "I- um, excuse me?" His internal voice was beginning to sound a lot like Sarcastic Hank.

"I heard about what happened. That guy was armed and just going for a wallet." Stark shrugged. "Why did you intervene? You could have been hurt."

Connor thought for a moment, before he remembered what Hank had shared with him after being sworn into the force three months ago. He liked that memory a lot. Hank had said that he was proud of him.

"'The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing.' My father is a police officer. He taught me that if there is something that I can do to help someone else, I should." The android shrugged, keeping his posture as relaxed and non-threatening as possible.

"Even if it means putting your life in danger to help?" Tony leaned back and eyed him curiously.

One side of Connor's lips ticked up in a smirk. He leaned forward slightly, like he was sharing a secret. "My dad taught me self-defense too."

Tony Stark froze for a second. "You're hired, we'll see you on Monday."

313 248 317 - 52: I got the job!

Hank: 🎉🎉 

Hank: Proud of you son

Chapter Text

March 2019

Monday morning came quickly and Connor got to work at exactly 8:30 am.

As instructed, Connor took the fancy, sleek elevator up to the 81st floor where the mechanical engineering department was located.

His chest constricted as the elevator rose. Connor pulled out his calibration coin from his jacket pocket, examined it in his palm before he started rapidly flicking the coin from one hand to the other. He was already nervous, but Hank said that was normal for the first day of a new job. This elevator wasn't helping him remain calm though.

Connor tried to take a deep breath through his nose. So many things had happened in the last few months. Not too long ago, he had taken an elevator just like this up to a hostage negotiation. He had plummeted seventy floors to his death that day.

You lied to me, Connor...

Stress Level: 38 %

Connor closed his eyes for a moment to collect himself and released a shaky breath.

Daniel, Ortiz's Android, the Eden Club, the Stratford Tower, Jericho and then the Revolution, being transported to a Different Dimension. So much has happened.

His hands shook.

The elevator dinged and Connor opened his eyes, catching the flying coin and putting it away.

"Oh, Connor. Good morning." Dr. Wong greeted him as the door opened.

"Good morning, Dr. Wong." Connor politely inclined his head and quickly stepped from the confines of the elevator.

The woman motioned with her hand. "Follow me, please. I'll show you to your work station and then I'll introduce you to the team and show you what projects you'll be working on."

The floor had a main hall with four large rooms on each side. The outside walls were mostly glass for a cityscape view and Connor, while impressed with that view, couldn't help but think that the windows were an unnecessary security risk.

Dr. Wong showed him to his work station in the second room on the left. Thankfully his desk and workstation were against an actual wall, facing in to the rest of the room. The windows looking out to the skyscrapers of Manhattan were on his right.

Using his scanners, Connor determined that his desk and workstation were twenty one paces from the emergency exit door and in view of two of the cameras in the room.

Moderate Difficulty Hacking Security Cameras If Required

Total Hacking Time:  Approximately 3.2 Seconds

Connor smirked, barely. If he needed to escape or access the servers, it shouldn't be too difficult. The only problem would be Stark's AI Friday. He was fairly confident he could handle it though.

Next, Dr. Wong made a very general announcement to his new department, introduced Connor to the nine other people working in the room and then brought Connor back over to his terminal. She got him logged in with his company username and left him to set up his new password.

Connor almost laughed aloud when he remembered trying to guess Hank's DPD password. He would need to come up with something a little different here.

313sumo.is.best

Perfect. That wouldn't raise any flags if the IT department needed to access his computer.

Connor pulled up the two projects he had been given; a new kind of body armor design with possible military/law enforcement use and a design for some kind of a recon drone. Either project had fascinating applications, but the body armor held his interest a bit more. In case they got stuck in this universe, he might be able to make some of that armor for Hank.

The android spent the next couple of hours creating a few design models on his computer.Thankfully, his CPU was more than capable of multitasking. He ran facial recognition and background checks on all of his new coworkers, bosses and the security guards he passed on his way up. Along with that came prior criminal records, points of interest and familial relations. Threat assessments were also given to each individual, as well as the likelihood of their usefulness to Connor's cover.

Connor brow arched as an interesting, but probably not important alert appeared on his HUD. Todd Harper, the engineer stationed at his 11 o'clock, was arrested for a DUI last month.

Simultaneously, Connor began testing the building's AI and security system FRIDAY.

If he was very lucky and very careful, Connor was confident that he could hack into and create himself a digital access point in the AI program. This way he could access whatever information he needed from Stark Industries and hopefully, the Avengers too with no one being the wiser.

Probability of Success: 45%

Well, Connor had worked with worse odds before, but he was certain that there were things he could do to dramatically increase his chances of success. He would have to work very slowly, do a little bit and build a little more each day. 

Probability of Success: 63%

Better.

Satisfied, Connor got to work.

Hank: hey kid

Hank: how's it going?

313 248 317 - 52: Hi Hank, it's going well. I'm currently working on creating a design for body armor. What are you up to ?

Hank: oh you know, same old same old.

Hank: homicide.  ☠️

At 11:58 am, Connor received his first reminder prompt to "use" the men's room. Locking his computer, Connor got up from his desk and made his way down the hall.

He was making good progress on the design for the body armor, but if given the choice he'd rather be solving a case with Hank. Police work was just more fun.

As Connor washed his hands, he received another text from Hank.

Hank: what did King George think of the American colonies ?

313 248 317-52: what ?

Hank: they were

Hank:... revolting

Hank: 😆😆

313 248 317-52: 🤦 are you bored ?

Hank: not anymore kiddo, not anymore

Connor grinned. Despite all the craziness of the last four months, Hank seemed to be doing much better then he had when Connor first met him. He still had bouts of depression, days where he struggled to get out of bed or do anything. And there were some days where Hank still drank a bit too much, but all those days seemed to be getting less. It seemed to be a slow and steady progress. The android was hopeful.

Hank meant so much to Connor, everything really, and he was determined to do whatever he could to help the older man.

"Hey, Connor, right?"

His thoughts interrupted, Connor looked up as he turned off the faucet.

Identity: James Vega

Age: 27

Criminal Record: None

Status: Neutral

Connor nodded as he reached for a paper towel. "James?"

"Good memory, man. I heard Wong say you recently graduated with your masters from MIT, sumo cum laude?"

"Yeah." The android shrugged, trying not to make a big deal of the credentials he'd faked.

"Very cool. So listen, I was just about to head down to the cafeteria for lunch if you wanted to join me?" James motioned toward the door.

A small, shy smile crossed Connor's lips. Other than Hank, he'd never been invited to share a meal with someone before. "I'd-I'd like that. Thank you, James."

"My friends call me Jim." 

Connor felt his thirium pump stutter. He nodded, smiling a little wider. "Jim."

Software Instability Detected

James "Jim" Vega: Friend

313 248 317 - 52: Hank, I think I made a friend !

Hank: nice job son !

2:46 pm

As the door to the lab opened slowly, Connor lifted his eyes from his workstation and observed an adolescent male make his way into the room. He activated facial recognition.

Identity: Peter Parker

Age: 16

Criminal Record: None

Peter wove his way between the workstations, greeting most of the people as he went.

Belatedly, Connor realized that the relatively empty desk to his 3 o'clock must be where Peter, who was most likely an intern, worked.

Peter made eye contact with Connor, slid his backpack towards his chair and turned to stand awkwardly between their desks. His hand shot up in a wave. "Hi, I'm Peter."

"Hi Peter. My name is Connor, I'm-" the Android sent by CyberL- NO, "it's nice to meet you. Are you an intern?" He attempted to lean casually against his desk, trying to deflect from his near misstep. 

"Yeah. I come into the labs on Mondays, Wednesdays and Thursdays after school. Mr. Stark let's me work on whatever projects I want." He explained, bouncing on his feet and making short, jerky motions with his hands. "Sometimes though, he has specific things for me to do, but mostly it's just me working on whatever."

Connor nodded, trying to smile encouragingly. "That sounds fun." He paused, thinking for a moment. "You must be very smart, I haven't seen any other interns here, though this is only my first day." He tacked on a self-depreciating smile at the end for good measure.

Peter chuckled, still rocking on his feet like a hyperactive puppy. "Well-" his voice cracked a little before he cleared his throat and tried again. "Well, I'm not the only intern, but thank you. I'll leave you to your work, I should get started on mine too."

Connor nodded as Peter took his seat, put on his head phones and fired up his work station.

Interesting.

For a moment, Connor wondered if that was how Hank saw him, as a hyperactive puppy, but Connor dismissed the thought almost immediately.

Definitely not.

Peter left at 4:34 pm and said goodbye to Connor on his way out.

At precisely 5:37 pm, James -Jim- stopped by his desk and said good night. He clapped Connor on the shoulder the same way that Officer Wilson did back home. It was nice. Jim said that he would see Connor tomorrow.

Technically his working hours were from 9:00 am to 5:30 pm, but Connor knew it also looked good to work past normal working hours. Stark Industries had an open door policy for most of its employees so they could work whenever inspiration struck and if the android stuck around a bit longer, it was more time that his processor could use to breach the AI's system.

Plus, Hank would not be home for at least another hour and a half and Connor did not relish the thought of being in the apartment alone for that long just waiting for the other man to get home. That thought made Connor shuddered involuntarily.

The android's eyes widened. That was odd, very odd. He has shivered when he was cold before, the involuntary vibrations helping his biocomponents generate and retain heat, but this was different. He wasn't cold now. He'd have to mention it to Hank later and do a full system scan.

In the meantime he'd stay and work. This project was actually kind of interesting anyway.

Over the next half an hour, another seven people left the lab. Dr. Wong was still working quietly in her office, which was situated against the outer glass wall. Aveline Vallen, another young engineer he had met during lunch with Jim, was also still working. Connor smirked as the tall, red head bounced her head along to her music. She didn't look to be leaving anytime soon either.

At precisely 6:30 pm, Connor turned off his workstation, packed up his belongings and bid Dr. Wong a good night.

Connor pressed the call button for the elevator, while carefully disconnecting his CPU from FRIDAY. He called up and started scrolling through dinner recipes on his HUD to distract himself from the unavoidable and uncomfortable elevator ride he would have to take.

Stress Level: 33%

He was so preoccupied with determining which meal he thought Hank would like better for tonight, he flinched when the elevator chimed open and he was greeted by the unexpected but familiar faces of Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes.

Connor's processor stuttered to a halt. Again.

Wide eyed and mouth hanging slightly open, his thirium pump drastically picked up its pace.

Stress Level: 41%

Rogers was standing at a parade rest and Barnes was casually leaning against the wall behind him. Both super soldiers were eyeing him assessingly.

After an awkward beat, Connor seemed to regain his faculties, closed his mouth and nodded his head in greeting as he walked into the elevator. "Captain, Sergeant."

Both men nodded to him.

The android pressed the button for the main floor and thus began one of the most silently awkward two minutes of Connor's admittedly short life.

Just when Connor was no longer sure he could contain his compulsion to calibrate with his quarter, Captain America cleared his throat and spoke up. "So, you're Connor, right? Tony was telling me he hired someone new and I haven't seen you around before."

The detective in Connor took a moment to parse through the Captain's words. It made him wonder if Rogers had some sort of photographic memory that allowed him to remember all of the employees he encountered at Stark Industries. If that was the case, then the Captain was lying. The man had clearly seen Connor at the Starbucks a few days ago. How else would Mr. Stark know about the altercation with the thief?

Although, perhaps the man was just trying to be polite and make conversation. 

Barnes stayed silent against the wall.

Maintain Cover

Connor turned to look at both men, "Yes. Today's my first day." His eyes drifted to the right, "I was under the impression that the Avengers no longer reside in the tower. Do you visit often?"

In his peripheral, Connor saw Barnes narrow his eyes, but Rogers just smiled and nodded. "Well, were not Avengers anymore, but we do try to visit Tony and the others when we can."

No knowing what else to say, Connor aimed for a genuine smile. He was fairly certain he missed the mark. "That's... good. Good friends are hard to find." 

The elevator door dinged, signalling their arrive to the main lobby and Connor breathed a quiet sigh of relief. He turned to look at his traveling companions before continuing, "It was really nice meeting you." And remembering he was supposed to be a member of this particular universe, Connor turned to address them again.

"Thank you both, for everything you've done. Have a pleasant evening." With that, Connor began his walk back to the apartment.

Chapter Text

April 2019

Finally, finally after a few weeks they both had the same day off and nothing to do. The last few weeks had been nothing but work and whenever Connor and Hank weren't working, they were running around the city getting supplies or preparing emergency exit routes, procedures and codewords, just in case. They were also getting everyday things they needed for the apartment.

There was a heated debate about which code word they would use. Hank wanted the bug-out word to be "DEFCON 4" and Connor wanted it to be "Kamski." They eventually settled on "RA9" as a compromise.

Hank got the feeling Connor wanted the word to be "Kamski," because the former CEO freaked the kid out. It was already a trigger word or him.

And the next argument came when Connor suggested that, in the unlikely but more likely scenario of him being found out and not Hank, the older man should go straight to their designated meeting place and wait for the android. Then, if the android did not show up within a set time frame, Connor had new identities prepared and ready to go and Hank needed to blend in, i.e. not look for the kid. 

Hank had rolled his eyes so hard he gave himself a headache and eventually yessed the android to death. Like hell he wasn't going to storm into wherever the android was and get him the hell out. 

Needless to say, Hank was exhausted; mentally, physically, in his very soul.

When the older man wasn't rudely woken at the butt crack of dawn on this fine Saturday morning, he figured the kid was probably having pity on him. So, he rolled over and went back to sleep for as long as Connor would let him.

Consciousness greeted Hank a few hours later in the form of a blinding light streaming through his window to burn out his cornea. Prying open his eyes and now feeling worse for having overslept, he blearily looked to his clock.

11:39 am

Whoa. He hadn't slept that long in months, not since Connor moved in.

To be fair, he only usually slept that late because he had been hungover. The android ran a tight ship though. There was no more drinking himself into acoma.

Hank groaned. He righted himself, did his business in the bathroom and made his way out to the living room.

Last night after work, they'd gone out and bought a small coffee table for the living room and a big box of Legos.

They had spent a while debating exactly which coffee table they should get. Connor was very particular about which one he thought would look good in their living. After they finally settled on the perfect one, they started making their way out of the store. Connor had literally just finished telling Hank that he kind of enjoyed building stuff and making things at work, when the older man saw the box of Legos. Hank had spotted it out of the corner of his eye and the android had given him quite the look when the older man had grabbed it. 

 
Bless his android's heart, Connor didn't ask any questions and just went with it, probably chalking it up to "Weird Hank Stuff". The older man does not have any confirmation, but he's almost positive the kid is keeping a detailed list of all the weird crap Hank does. 

After paying for their items, they made their way back home, to the apartment, and spent a stupid amount of time trying to set up the coffee table, completely forgetting about the Legos. 

Hank's no slouch when it comes to building stuff and Connor is literally a super computer. After an hour and a half, both men decided there was something seriously wrong with the instructions and the table itself, so they decided to wing it.

Two hours after that, the thing was finally done and they both decided to go to bed. Before going to his own room, Hank had stopped Connor with a hand to his shoulder and explained that, "Oh yeah, the Legos are for you - go nuts kid."

The android had stared at Hank with a totally confused, wide eyed, what-is-happening-right-now look.

"Just... just have fun, Connor. Try building something, anything you want. Create something." Hank smiled encouragingly.

Connor had nodded, looking a little confused and a whole lot of daunted, but the kid had smiled back at Hank before shuffling off to his own room to enter Rest Mode.

So, the sight that greeted Hank this morning, afternoon - whatever, was kind of a surprise, but maybe by now he should have known better.

Connor was sitting on the floor with his back resting against the legs of the couch. His feet were stretched out underneath the coffee table before him and in front of the android, was a partially constructed something made out of Legos on the table.

The kid was looking constipatedly at the pile before him, probably contemplating what piece to put where, next.

Hank discreetly pulled his phone from his sweatpants pocket and took a picture of the scene. Connor was kind of cute when he wasn't licking blood samples.

The floor creaked as Hank took another step closer and the kid jerked in surprise.

"Hank!" The android's hand moved to his heart in shock.

The older man's brows rose towards his hairline, wondering if the action he just witnessed was instinctual or a learned behavior from Hank.

The kid's eyes widened even further a second later. "I ... must have lost track of time. I didn't realize it was so late." 

Hank was beyond glad that he didn't have an internal clock like Connor did. That had to get old real quick.

Hank shrugged, "It's Saturday. This is what days off are for." He slowly ambled into the joined kitchen, calling out after he stuck his head in the fridge looking for food. "You having fun?"

"Yes. Though," the kid paused, "I'm not entirely sure I know what I'm doing."

"That's ok. Legos are just about imagination, building stuff and having fun. That's it." Pulling out some Mediterranean style chicken and vegetables that Connor had cooked two nights ago, Hank popped it in the microwave to reheat.

He glanced back at Connor. The kid was pretty absorbed in whatever he was building, but he seemed to have heard Hank. He was nodding his head in understanding and after a few moments of contemplation, the piece in his hand quickly joined the rest of the Lego creation.

The microwave dinged, bringing the older man's attention back to his food. Hank grabbed some water and made his way back into the living room to sit with the kid. He sat on the couch and used the only corner of the coffee table not covered by Legos to rest his glass.

With a careful eye, Hank took in Connor's sprawling creation. He noted some seemingly random buildings, some Lego people and a park like area.

Hank huffed. He didn't realize the Lego set had come with animals and of course, Connor found the dog in the box. Right next to the dog were two Lego people. One had white hair and the other had brown. Behind them was a house that looked a hell of a lot like Hank's house in Detroit, white fence and everything.

The older man's vision blurred and he used the back of his hand holding the fork to wipe away the sudden moisture in his eyes. The kid really was something else and Hank was a sentimental fool.

He's gone soft.

Hank cleared his throat, drawing Connor's attention. "So, that's us at our house," Hank pointed to Lego-Them, "but I don't remember there being a lake and a park right outside."

Connor tilted his head and turned his eyes back to the Lego world before him, no doubt contemplating how to explain what all this was to Hank. He pointed towards the park area. "This is- do you remember what I told you about The Zen Garden?" Hank nodded. "Well, since I scrubbed all of my programs and subroutines of the Amanda AI after the protests, The Zen Garden program is mine now. I can go there whenever I want, change it as I see fit."

The kid looked down at the Legos in his hands. They clenched into fists around the pieces. "After- after everything, I was s-so angry. So, I tore the whole thing down. Tore it apart. There was nothing in that program anymore. But after a while, after you helped my by talking with me about everything, I went back to The Zen Garden." Connor seemed to relax again and he turned his body to face Hank. "I decided that what Cyberlife wanted to use to hurt me and my people was going to be what I wanted it to be. A place to rest or organize my thoughts, think. Whatever I wanted." Hank nodded approvingly. "So, I rebuilt it. I rewrote the code. I made it mine."

Connor pointed to their house and the pretty garden around it. "This is sort of what it looks like now. Your house-"

"Our house." Hank interrupted.

Connor smiled brightly. "Our house, you and Sumo are there. This garden area I made from combining different types of real gardens and parks. I chose what I liked about each of them and put it here too." He excitedly pointed to each thing as he spoke.

"It's peaceful now. Not like it was before. Then, it was cold and still. Dead." He whispered that last word. "It feels almost alive now. I am very relaxed when I'm there."

Hank scratched his neatly trimmed bead. "So, how are me and Sumo there?"

Connor tilted his head again, like a puppy. "Well, you're obviously not actually there. It's more like," he struggled to find words that would help Hank understand. "It's more like a picture of you and Sumo. Or maybe more like a video. Your representation there is the embodiment of everything I feel, my emotions towards you, about you."

Connor, suddenly skittish, barely met his gaze, like he'd done something wrong. Like loving your family and wanting them close was something bad.

Hank gently squeezed Connor's shoulder, nodding towards the Legos. "That sounds really nice, son. I'm glad you've been able to make it your own." As the older man contemplated the Lego-Hank and his little Lego family, the stiffness in Connor's shoulders relaxed at the knowledge that he had not done something terrible and that Hank wasn't upset with him.

Hank nodded again. "Damn nice, kid." He cleared his throat and gestured to the rest of the Lego buildings. "So, what's all of the rest of this then? You got all this in your brain too?"

Connor shook his head, a smirk crossing his lips. "No, I just...made it up." The android shrugged.

"I like it, Con. Looks good. I like this part a lot." Hank pointed to an area of the coffee table that would probably be considered an avant-garde structure in real life.

"Thank you, Hank." By the look the kid was giving him, he knew Connor meant more than just the compliment on the Legos.

The older man smiled, ruffled the kids hair and grabbed the remote, hoping to find a movie marathon to watch. "Sure thing, kid."

"Hey." Hank turned and fixed the android with a rather impressive glare. "Don't look up any plot synopses. Just cause we're in a different universe doesn't mean that rule doesn't still apply."

Connor groaned. "Fine." He said, dragging out the word, like the five month old he actually was.

Hank looked at him in disbelief. Where did the kid learn that? Definitely not from him, that's for sure.

They eventually settled on the Matrix Trilogy. It did not go over well.

Connor almost had an existential crisis - Am I Real, Are You Real, Is Anything REAL?

Hank decided to calm him down with another classic trilogy. Star Wars went over much better.

The kid was so surprised by the big reveal of Darth Vader being Luke's father that Connor had simply stared dumbstruck at the TV, wide eyed and slack jawed. The android wirelessly paused the movie with his brain while he processed the revelation. After a few minutes of near silence, he slowly turned to Hank for confirmation of Darth Vader's identity. That stunned expression was stuck on the kid's face for awhile afterwards.

Legos and Star Wars ended up on blue Post-It notes that night.

The Matrix got a red Post-It note.

Chapter Text

April 2019

Hank groaned as he eased himself back into the old squad car. George slammed the door closed behind him as he got into the passenger seat and heaved a sigh. They had just wasted another three and a half hours following up on one more dead end.

"I hate this case, Hank." George groaned. "I really, really hate it."

"Yeah, me too." Hank scrubbed his face with a calloused hand. His stomach chose that moment to grumble loudly. They had worked through lunch chasing down leads and it was now after 5:00 pm.

George looked at him knowingly before nodding. "I'm starving, too."

Hank really didn't want to grab food and schlep all the way back to the precinct in rush-hour, city traffic to keep working on the case. His apartment was actually much closer.

And pizza was deliverable.

Hank lifted his head and turned on the ignition. "How about we head to my apartment? It's only a few blocks from here. We can order pizza and keep going with this case."

Apparently George was on the same wavelength, because he brightened up considerably at Hank's suggestion.

Hank let them into the apartment and flicked on the lights. The door was situated right in between the living room and the kitchen. Hank slipped off his jacket and threw it on the back of one of the kitchen chairs, motioning for George to do the same.

"I've got a menu around here somewhere, give me a sec." Hank made his way into the kitchen and started rifling through one of the cabinet drawers.

George slowly took in the modest apartment. It was very clean, tidy, but still looked homey with a few different blankets neatly folded on the sectional couch. Hank had mentioned that Connor was a bit of a clean freak.

In the living room, there were three pictures on the wall. The first was a picture of Hank and a young man, presumably Connor. It was a selfie taken by Hank and both men were smiling.

Next to that was a picture of a young boy with striking blue eyes, like Hank's. At a very quick glance, George might have thought the little boy and the young man were the same person, but the eyes, bone structure and hair color were all different.

Ok, so the little boy was Connor, but then who was the young man in the first photo?

Next to the picture of the little boy was a photo of a very large St. Bernard.

"Hey, so you want anything on your pizza?" Hank asked him from where he was leaning against the kitchen counter. The older man was holding a very crinkled up menu and looking at him expectantly.

"Anything but anchovies and pineapples." George replied with a grimace. As far as he was concerned, anchovies were disgusting and pineapples on pizza were just a sin. 

Hank nodded easily and started the call to place their order.

George turned back towards the living room. He spotted a small tub of Legos under the coffee table and a few Lego structures on top of it. The Lieutenant's brow furrowed a little, thinking it was a little strange for a twenty one year old to be playing with Legos in the living room.

But then again, his teenage daughter was ranting yesterday about wanting to live in a chocolate house where everything was made out of chocolate.

So, maybe not so strange.

"You want any garlic knots?" Hank asked, phone held tightly between his ear and shoulder.

George took the few steps back towards the kitchen and nodded. "Sure."

Hank's head bobbed gently and he carried on with the order.

The kitchen was just as well cared for as the living room. Nothing really seemed out of place except for the three columns of Post-It notes on the fridge.

Random things were listed on the blue and red notes like music genres, movie titles, activities and even Hank's name was on a blue one.

The yellow Post-It notes seemed to be different emotions or feelings.

George stopped fully in front of the fridge to study it. He rested a hand on his hip. Maybe Conn-

"Hey." Hank interrupted gruffly as he ambled up next to the younger man, both men now awkwardly facing the fridge.

George glanced at Hank. While the older man's body language said "relaxed," Hank clearly was not. He seemed defensive with his arms crossed over his chest.

Defensive and protective of his son, it would seem.

George smiled. The more time he spent with Hank Anderson, the more he liked the older man. "Hey. So, since you caught me looking, can I ask you a question?" Stacy pointed to the rows of sticky notes.

Hank hummed affirmatively.

"So, what's with the Post-Its?" Grinning, George cocked his head toward Hank.

The older man grunted and shifted his weight onto his back leg. He looked like he really didn't want to get in to it, but he did just tell George that he could ask.

"They- Connor. " Hank grimaced and tried again. "Connor's adopted. His-his mom was," the cold fury that came into Hank's eyes surprised George, "the worst. Evil. She really messed him up."

Hank looked down at his shoes and seemed to find some invisible mark to scuff. "She tried to kill him."

George's brows jumped up to his hairline. He hadn't been expecting that at all and blinked owlishly at the older man. He didn't know what to say. 

Thankfully, Hank kept going. "It got to the point that the kid basically turned off all his emotions just to survive. He'd be punished if he showed any feelings." He gestured towards the fridge. "It's a system we came up with when he first came to live with me. Blue for things he likes. Red for stuff he doesn't and yellow for emotions he's dealing with."

Hank nodded, apparently done explaining the list. He side-eyed George, like he was assessing the younger man's reaction.

George made an approving sound. "Seems like a good system. How old was Connor when you adopted him?"

"Ten."

George grimaced and rubbed the back of his neck. He couldn't imagine someone trying to hurt one of his kids. His son Howie was ten now. "That's rough, man. But at least he's with you now."

Hank hummed and pursed his lips, eyes fixed on the refrigerator.

"So, I have another question." George said, drawing the older man's attention again. "What does he have against The Matrix?"

Hank laughed, breaking the somber mood.

An hour later, Connor made his way to the door of the apartment. He slid the key into the lock and began to turn the door knob when a laugh and the murmur of voices beyond the door halted his action.

The low bass Connor easily identified as Hank but the other male voice he didn't recognize. Checking his internal clock, the android noted that it was 6:21 pm and Hank had another thirty nine minutes left of his shift. The older man shouldn't be home yet.

Connor's face creased in confusion as he heard another round of laughter. Curious, he pushed the door open slowly. As he stepped through, Hank called out to him. "Hey, Con."

The android scanned the younger man seated at the kitchen table who was now turning to face Connor. 

Name: Lieutenant George Stacy

NYPD

Age: 46

Criminal Record: None

Partner of Detective Hank Anderson

Connor smiled and made his way towards the table. "Hi Hank."

"This is Lieutenant George Stacy, my partner." Hank motioned to George.

Connor waited patiently for Stacy to wipe off the pizza grease before extending his hand to shake. "It's nice to meet you, Lieutenant."

"Likewise," he grinned, "and call me George. Sorry we're crashing here. We were starving." George's eyes flicked over to the pictures on the living room wall before immediately refocusing on Connor. 

The android nodded, not entirely thrilled with the choice of pizza and garlic knots but quickly remembered that there were worse things to eat, like anything from the Chicken Feed.

"Ha! Told ya." Hank stage-whispered conspiratorially to Lieutenant Stacy and pointed at Connor. "'Aneurysm face.'"

Connor consciously relaxed his scowl. "I wasn't making a face."

Both George and Hank laughed at him. Wonderful, there were two of them now. The android rolled his eyes, sat heavily in one of the unoccupied kitchen table chairs and hung his messenger bag from the back of it.

Instinctually, Connor started up a scan of the food.

Calori-

Cancel Scan Command

Scan Cancelled

The android really didn't want to know. Grabbing a paper plate and a napkin, he helped himself to a slice.

He didn't need to eat, but it would be kind of weird if he didn't with Lieutenant Stacy here. They needed to maintain their cover. Plus, New York pizza was so much better then what they had in Detroit.

Yeah, ok. So he liked it. As Hank would say, sue him. 

Both men chuckled at the cheerful smile on Connor's face as he bit into his pizza.

 Date Unknown

Time Unknown

It's dark.

Connor's not sure where it is, but it also doesn't think that's important either.

Regardless, its programming demanded it discover its location for its mission report, if nothing else.

The android turned its head to the right and then to left. It was standing in the alleyway behind the Eden Club.

And it was snowing heavily.

Connor...

The android swiveled to the left, towards the voice, but saw no one.

"Connor."

It jerked its head forward. Amanda stood before it. It tilted its head curiously. Why was Amanda here?

"I'm here, Connor, to help you complete your mission." She said.

Query: Mission Objective?

"Connor, your mission is to kill Lieutenant Anderson." She slid to the side, her large white cloak completely unaffected by the harsh blizzard swirling around them.

A few feet beyond where she had stood was Lieutenant Anderson, kneeling in the snow. The man was injured, blood flowing freely from a wound on his head.

Loud static filled its audio processors.

Connor made eye contact with the Lieutenant. The man's mouth started moving, but it was unable to make out any of the words the older man said.

Its audio processors must be damaged like they had been during Stress Test #37. It had been unable to hear anything but sharp whines, slicing tones and incomprehensible static then too.

Amanda's voice rang clearly in the alleyway. "Complete your mission, Connor."

Don't have any regrets...

She pointed to the gun in his hand. "Do it. Now."

You've accomplished your mission ...

The android raised the gun and leveled it with the human's head.

Lieutenant Anderson's eyes widened in shock, his face frozen in fear.

Connor felt its facial muscles twitch.

It pulled the trigger.

BANG

Connor's eyes flew open, a scream ripping through his vocal unit, causing static and feedback to echo sharply in the room. He jerked up, his gyroscope malfunctioning, and he tumbled out of bed.

The android fell to the floor with a loud thud and a strangled sob escaped him.

His bedroom door flung open and Hank, with his gun drawn and raised, stormed into the room. Seeing nothing but Connor tangled up in his sheets, the older man flicked on the light and carefully put his gun on the dresser.

The sight of a living, uninjured Hank was enough to completely overwhelm his processor. Another sob punched through the air and tears flowed freely from his eyes.

Connor reached out a shaky hand towards Hank as the older man quickly got to his knees before the android. The irrational need to be held, to hold, was so overwhelming that his processor blanked out and he could think of nothing else.

"D-dad..." The static filled, broken whimper broke through the silence.

Hank's hands fisted into Connor's shirt and pulled the android into a crushing embrace.

It was like a dam broke inside of him. Connor's strangled sobs became desperate heaves for air as his lungs struggled to draw in breath. Error message after error message poured through his HUD about malfunctioning biocomponents. Alarms blared so loudly in his own skull he could barely think. The tears that had started to come only increased as he cried into Hank's shoulder and he trembled so hard that Connor was sure his joints were going to break.

But Hank, the calm in the storm, simply held the android as he fell apart. The older man whispered soothingly into Connor's ear and despite the fact that his overwhelmed processor couldn't parse out the words, he still heard Hank's calm tone. The older man's strong hold around the android's chest and back, the very alive body heat radiating from Hank, grounded Connor in the here and now better then he would have ever thought.

After a few minutes, or maybe a few hours, the error messages ceased and he was able to breathe somewhat normally again. Connor became aware of Hank's hand rubbing his back and the way the older man gently rocked them both back and forth.

Connor craned his neck back from where he had slumped against Hank so that he could see the older man. "Hey."

Hank startled a little, but quickly recovered. Smiling, he said, "Hey yourself. You ok, son?"

Connor nodded into Hank's shoulder. "Better. Thank you... for being with me."

He slowly extricated himself from the embrace, but didn't quite break all physical contact with Hank. Their knees were touching and Connor gripped Hank's forearm, not quite ready to let go.

The older man nodded slowly. "Of course, Con." He paused. "What's your stress level?"

"Fifty four percent."

Hank's chin dipped. "Another nightmare?"

Connor hummed as Hank scooted around so that the older man could rest his back against the bed. Connor did the same, neither letting go of the other's arm as they moved.

"Same as before?"

Connor shook his head, fresh tears spilling from his eyes at just the thought of it. He took a shuddering breath. "I - Amanda- she made me sh-shoot you. And I did." He lowered his head in shame.

"You died because of me." He whispered brokenly.

"Son, it was just a dream. I'm alive and well, still kicking. In fact, I'm probably healthier then I was a few months ago." Hank squeezed his arm. "It was just a dream."

" 'sides, it's not like you actually wanna kill me, right?" The older man smirked, clearly trying to lighten the mood. He bumped his shoulder against Connor's.

The android nodded in agreement, using the back of his free hand to wipe away the moisture from his face.

"I only have that urge when you eat garbage, Hank."

The older man's face did something complicated then, going from shock to mirth to something that Connor would describe as prideful awe.

The young man smirked at his father and Hank chuckled gruffly.

"Alright, smart guy." The older man checked his watch. "Well, I gotta be up in a few hours and so do you. You wanna move this party to the living room? It's a little more comfortable and maybe we can watch a movie or something."

"Yes, that sounds like a good idea. I..." Connor hesitated, "don't really want to go back into Rest Mode."

The older man nodded in understanding. Finally releasing his hold on Connor, Hank slowly got up from the floor. The android followed a moment behind him, grabbing his blankets to throw them back on the bed.

After a moment of contemplation, Connor decided he wanted to keep the bedding with him. He threw the blankets around himself tightly and proceeded to shuffle after the older man.

Hank turned and quirked a brow, an amused smile on his face.

Connor's steps slowed and he offered some of his blankets to Hank.

The man chuckled roughly and smirked. "I'm good, thanks kid." Hank started walking toward the living room again with Connor tripping over his bedding after him.

Thirty minutes later, both men were side by side, fast asleep on the couch and sharing the blankets.

Chapter Text

April 2019

The next morning was a Friday and Connor was up before Hank. The smell of coffee roused the older man from his slumped position on the couch. The crick in his neck made itself known immediately.

Hank groaned as he leveraged himself up off the couch like King Tut's Mummy rising from its sarcophagus. His right hand went to the painful spot on his neck and his left rubbed his bloodshot eyes.

Connor was busy in the kitchen, already dressed in his work clothes and cooking Hank's breakfast.

The older man took a moment to observe the kid. "Sluggish" was really the only word his tired brain could come up with at this time in the morning, especially before coffee.

Speaking of, "What time is it?" Hank croaked.

Connor raised his head from the food in front of him, and gave the older man a barely there smile. After last night, Hank counted it as a win either way.

"A little after six. You should leave within the next thirty minutes if you want to be at work on time."

Hank nodded and sat at the kitchen table just as the android was placing the older man's breakfast and coffee down.

Connor took his favorite mug from the cabinet above the sink, set it down on the table and disappeared down the hall. He returned after a minute with a container of electric blue thirium, poured the mixture into the mug and placed the remaining thirium in the fridge.

Lately, the older man had noticed that the kid seemed to have developed a liking to thirium that wasn't room temperature. Hot. Cold. Didn't seem to matter, just as long as it wasn't lukewarm.

Connor sat down in silence and joined Hank for breakfast.

The android was being unusually quiet and Hank's gut couldn't help but churn. The mornings after a nightmare were always a bit rough, leaving the android withdrawn and reserved.

Thankfully, the bad dreams seemed to be lessening in frequency. After the revolution, they happened almost every night and while the kid didn't always wake Hank up, the signs were clearly evident the next day. The father in him could just tell when the android had had a nightmare.

After an episode, Hank always tried to stick close to the kid, offer what comfort he could and just be there for him. Things were a little different now that they were in another universe and not working at the same job. 

Hank took a large gulp of coffee. "How you doing, Con?"

The android in question was sipping on his thirium and starting off into space. Connor's eyes flicked to Hank over the rim of the cartoon puppy mug he was holding before carefully setting it down on the table. "I'm ok, Hank. I'm just," his eyes wandered around as he searched for the right word, "tired."

Hank nodded. Interrupted sleep, whether you were an android or a human, sucked. They found that out the hard way.

"Hey, once I'm off of work, maybe we can have another movie marathon? I'm thinking Lord of the Rings and I think we should try another round of 'Connor Eats.' How does that sound?"

Connor looked up timidly, "We don't have to do that. I'm-"

"Son," Hank interrupted with a raised hand. "I want to spend time with you tonight." Sometimes, most times, Hank was learning that it was best to just be direct with Connor. There was less confusion that way.

"Ok," the android smiled again, "I look forward to it, but you have to pick up my surprise food item." He stood from the table, grabbing Hank's cleared plate as he went. "And let me know what you want for dinner."

Hank smiled, happy to see Connor coming back to himself after just a few kind words. He'd have to get something good for tonight's game.

Something sweet, not sour this time. Hank chuckled to himself.

A few hours later, Lieutenant Stacy and Hank were sitting at their desks in the precinct. They were bouncing theories off each other, trying to find a motive for the homicide case they were working.
George was discussing another idea, but Hank's brain had clearly checked out over a minute ago.

Interrupting George mid-sentence, the older man cut in. "I'm sorry, I gotta get some coffee. Give me a minute, ok?"

Hank didn't wait for a response, but got up from his chair and lumbered into the communal kitchen. He came back with two cups of black, burn-a-whole-in-your-stomach coffee.

When he carefully sat back down, he looked up and saw the "please explain" expression on George's face.

"Long night?" George asked with a touch of sarcasm.

Hank roughly scrubbed a hand down his face. "Yeah."

The Lieutenant gave him another look, silently prompting the older man for more of an explanation.

Hank sighed heavily. "Connor- you remember I told you about Connor's mom?"

George's face immediately creased in worry. "Yeah, I remember." He subconsciously moved closer.

"Well, it doesn't happen as often as it used to, but he had a-a night terror last night." The older man bit out the words. "Scared the crap outta me. I thought he was being murdered."

George grew silent, leaning back in his chair.

Hank looked down at the coffee he was holding over his lap. "Took a while for him to call down. I was up with him." He took a swallow of the black sludge.

George shifted in his seat and came close again. "Has Connor ever been," he waved a hand in the air ambiguously, "diagnosed with PTSD?"

Hank nodded slowly, searching for the right words. The older man knew that Connor had never been "diagnosed" by anyone other than Hank and he probably never would be. 

"Yeah, and he's been working through it since he was a kid. It's just rough sometimes and it doesn't help that he's resistant to talk about it." Hank shook his head.

"Well, I'm not really sure what I can do, but if there's anything you guys need, let me know. Ok? You're my partner. I'm here for you." The Lieutenant said. 

Hank gave him a small smile. "You're a good man, George. Thanks."

By the time Connor had gotten to work, he had mostly been feeling back to normal. He could almost pretend he didn't have a dream about soullessly murdering his father last night, but then he entered the sleek elevator at Stark Industries and he was back to square one.

Connor sighed and pulled out his quarter while he waited for the elevator to finish it's ascent to his floor. He started running the coin over his fingers. This elevator reminded him too much of the one from the hostage negotiation with Daniel and Emma.

Error: Biocomponent #8456w

Warning: Increased Internal Pressure

Stress Level: 57%

Connor dismissed the error messages as he struggled to take a breath. He felt like there was a vise around his chest.

The elevator stopped, not on Connor's floor, and the doors opened to reveal a patiently waiting Steve Rogers.

The Captain smiled politely and entered the elevator. "Hi, Connor." He pushed one of the floor numbers that were exclusively used by the Avengers personnel.

The android nodded distractedly as the elevator closed and continued upward.

Connor subconsciously moved the quarter faster across his knuckles and his unoccupied fingers tapped out an unsteady rhythm against his leg.

Steve eyed the android and turned a little towards him. "Are... you doing ok?"

Connor's body stiffened and he abruptly ceased all extraneous movement, slipping the quarter back into his pocket.

Stress Level: 65%

"My apologies." His eyes darted forward to stare at the doors ahead of him. Get it together, Connor. "I... have a lot on my mind."

Thankfully, the elevator reached Connor's floor a few seconds later. The android quickly turned towards Steve, inclined his head. "Have a nice day, Captain."

Connor practically bolted from the elevator. He didn't need to run any calculations to know that Steve Rogers was looking out him strangely.

Connor quickly made his way to his desk and pulled out the pair of headphones Hank had given him last week. He really didn't want to be bothered by anyone today and while he could stream music right into his processor, he desperately wanted to be left alone. Connor hoped that the headphones would deter any unwanted conversation.

The android got so caught up in his project and the classic rock Hank had recommended, today was ACDC, he didn't even notice right away when Peter came into the room hours earlier than he normally did. Not to mention, the teenager didn't work on Fridays.

When Connor did finally lift his head from his work station, he noticed Peter neglecting his terminal in favor of looking at his school notebook. The android gently removed his headphones, bringing them to rest around his neck.

The young man was bent over the book, muttering angrily and tapping out an aggressive beat with his pen.

Time seemed to slow as Connor's processor started up a scan.

Blood Pressure: 115/70

Resting Heart Rate: 107 BPM

Stress Leve-

Wait, what?

Resting Heart Rate: 107 BPM

That's... extremely unhealthy for a fit teenager of Peter's age.

Connor halted the scan and quickly accessed every scrap of information he could find on Peter's health.

Strange anomalies started appearing in the teen's yearly physical only last year. All of his numbers were high, but the doctor seemed to have written it off as "white coat syndrome."

What an idiot.

Connor decided he'd try to keep an eye out for Peter. Perhaps he could determine what or if something was wrong with the boy.

The android disconnected from the online server he had forced an access into and time reasserted itself. He stood and took the three steps between their desks.

"Hey." Connor gave a small wave. Be casual, Connor.

Peter looked up at him and the android peered into the notebook.

Ah, Spanish class.

"Are you doing alright? You're not usually here on a Friday."

Peter groaned. His head fell to the book with a thud. "It's parent-teacher conferences all day today, so no school. But I have a Spanish test on Monday and... I just suck at Spanish." His words were muffled by the book.

Connor tilted his head in thought for a moment. "I'm fluent in Spanish. If you'd like, I could help you prepare for your exam."

Peter slowly lifted his head from his desk, a spark of hope coming to life in his eyes. He was staring at Connor like the android was the best thing he'd ever seen.

Sumo used to look at him like that too whenever Connor gave him a treat.

"Really?" The teen spoke quickly, barely pausing to breathe. "Oh man, Connor. That would be so great. I really, really need help with this. Oh!" Peter's hands darted around excitedly. "My friend Ned, he needs help too. We're in the same class and we both suck. Help us, Obi-Wan Kenobi, you're our only hope."

Connor froze wide-eyed before a chuckle escaped him. "I would be happy to help, my...young Padawan. Do you and Ned have time tomorrow?"

Peter smiled brightly. "That sounds great. Let me text him and find out." He pulled out his phone. "I really can't thank you enough."

Connor nodded and went back to his seat.

Later, when Peter and Connor exchanged cell phone numbers, Connor was so relaxed and feeling good that he almost, almost retracted his artificial skin to directly connect to Peter's phone.

It was like a slap in the face when he remembered that he can't do that here.

This wasn't home. 

Finally, 5:30 pm came and Connor did not stay to work late for once. He was anxious to get home and get started on Hank's dinner. He was also really looking forward to their movie night. Hank had texted during the day and told him that he wanted a lemon and thyme seasoned chicken and vegetables recipe Connor had first tried out a few weeks after the revolution. The older man had really enjoyed that one and the android did too.

Connor went to the local grocery store to pick up what he needed for tonight. He stood in the frozen dairy isle, trying to decide which coconut milk ice creams to pick up for them both to eat, when he heard a loud commotion from the cash registers.

The android carefully set down his basket and quietly approached the end of the isle. As he peered around the corner, he saw an armed, masked gunman threatening a young female cashier and demanding the money from her drawer.

The young woman was crying.

Connor took a step towards them to intervene, but before he could take another, a man dressed in red and blue came hurtling through the door. The gunman's attention was drawn to the costumed figure that Connor's processor helpfully identified as the local vigilante Spider-Man.

The vigilante securely webbed the gunman, told the manager to call the police and said something about being "a friendly neighborhood Spider-Man" before quickly leaving the store.

Connor's eyes widen in realization. He knew that voice.

The android replayed the audio from just a few moments ago and used his voice match analysis program to test the audio from his earlier conversations with Peter.

100% Match

Connor blinked slowly. Well, that explained the strange scans he had run earlier today.

As soon as Hank entered the seemingly empty apartment with the Oreo cookies for tonight's round of "Connor Eats," he closed the door.

"Hank! The teenage intern at my job is Spider-man." Connor's booming voice came from directly behind him.

Hank's whole body convulsed in shock and his heart took off like a jack rabbit. His hand flew to his chest and he cursed. Loudly. "Con, seriously?!"

The stupid android didn't even have the grace to look sorry for nearly scaring the older man to death.

The next morning, Connor traveled to Queens to meet Peter and his friend Ned at Peter's apartment.

Connor's research on the teenager indicated that his parents were deceased and that he had been living with his Aunt May, a widow, for some time. The android had also spent most of last night scouring the internet, trying to find out everything he could about Spider-Man.

The suit was unequivocally a Stark design. That much was obvious. The technology in the suit was highly advanced, even for the things Stark usually made for the Avengers. Connor concluded that Tony Stark cared greatly for Spider-Man and was doing whatever he could to keep the teenager safe.

Maybe the android could work on an upgrade for Spider-Man's suit too. Peter was a good person and it was Connor's job to protect good people after all.

The android raised his hand and knocked on the apartment door that Peter's text had indicated.

The door was opened by a short, young man that was not Peter. He looked at Connor expectantly.

The android ran his facial recognition software.

Edward Leeds

Age: 16

Criminal Record: None

"Hi," Connor started, "you must be Ned." The android inclined his head.

Ned looked surprised for a second before he quickly recovered. "Uh, yeah. Connor, right?" The teen pulled the door open wider and waved him in. "We're set up in the living room."

The android nodded and followed Ned into the apartment.

Peter was sitting on the couch with both legs drawn up to his chest, just like many of the photos people had posted on the internet of Spider-Man.

Connor almost rolled his eyes. "Hi, Peter."

"Hey. Thank you so much for coming." Ned sat down next to Peter, leaving the armchair for Connor. "We really appreciate it." 

The android sat and smiled at the two boys. "It's my pleasure."

They spent the next few hours going over the material for the end of third quarter practical exam.

When they stopped and ordered pizza for lunch, Peter ate most of one pie by himself. An hour later, the teen was snacking on pretzels and hummus.

Connor made a mental note of Peter's increased metabolism.

After lunch, they got back to studying and a few hours after that, Connor was pleased to note that both Peter and Ned were doing significantly better on the class material. The android was confident they would both pass the test with flying colors.

At precisely 4:23 pm, Peter groaned loudly and forcefully closed his textbook. "Ok." his right hand sliced through the air. Both Connor and a bleary-eyed Ned directed their attention to him.

"Let's stop. I honestly think this is a good as it's gunna get. Ned and I can review the material again tomorrow. There is such a thing as over-studying."

"Oh, thank God." Ned mumbled as he flopped back onto the couch.

Connor nodded, deviancy helping him to understand boredom and not wanting to do many tedious things. He started to grab his messenger bag so he could leave, but Peter spoke up from the couch.

"You guys wanna play some video games? Mario Kart?"

Ned perked up from his seat and Connor, well, Connor froze. He'd never played video games before.

Peter held out a controller expectantly towards the android.

Connor knew that he really shouldn't. He should go back to the apartment.

But, he really wanted to try playing.

He smiled shyly at Peter, accepted the controller and all three of them turned to face the TV to play Mario Kart.

At first, Connor ... wasn't very good. At all. But he wasn't a state of the art prototype for nothing. After a few races he started getting the hang of it and started having fun. He even joined in on the "smack talk" once in a while.

They had just finished another round, which Connor won by a hair's breadth, when the door to the apartment opened.

Three heads swiveled to see Aunt May, Connor's facial recognition program automatically informed him, as she came home from her shift.

Her expression morphed into one of disappointment as she noticed the three of them playing video games and not actively studying. She directed her glare to her nephew.

"Did you guys even study?" She pointed to the TV.

"Hi May and yes, we did. For like six hours, too." Peter answered, his voice rising in pitch.

Ned nodded enthusiastically next to him.

Connor awkwardly stood from his chair. "Hi Mrs. Parker. My name is Connor, I'm -" NO. He blinked and switched tracks, "Peter and Ned did study for approximately seven hours today. I am fairly confident that they will do well on their upcoming exam."

May looked at him, clearly perplexed. She quirked an eyebrow. "Ok," she said, drawing out the syllable. "Thank you, Connor, and it's nice to meet you."

Out of the corner of his eye, Connor could see Peter fighting a grin. The android nodded toward Mrs. Parker.

"And you can call me May." Before Connor could reply, the woman steam rolled ahead. "You guys hungry? I can order Thai. Connor, would you like to stay for dinner?"

Connor's eyes grew in surprise as he checked his internal clock.

7:29 pm

He didn't realize it had gotten so late. He'd been so distracted by Mario Kart.

The android "checked" his watch.

"Thank you for the invitation," he paused, "May, but I don't trust Hank - uh, my dad- to eat relatively healthy if I'm not there to force him to." He smirked at her as he grabbed his belongings and started making his way toward the door.

"It was very nice meeting you. Good luck on your test and I'll see you on Monday, Peter." Connor waved toward the room, bid all three goodbye and closed the door behind him.

Silence reigned in the apartment and Aunt May slowly turned to Peter and Ned. "Well, he's... different. Little odd." She grimaced.

Peter shrugged. "Maybe. He's really nice though," he paused, thinking about the internship, "and really smart. The stuff he's working on at SI is incredible."

May turned to him and Ned and gave them a stern look, daring them to lie to her. "Did you two really study for seven hours? Or was he pulling my leg?"

By the time Connor made it back home, Hank had already eaten leftovers from the night before and was working on the chocolate, coconut milk ice cream Connor had bought.

The android called out in greeting as he entered the apartment.

"Hey kid, how was the 'play date?'" Hank asked, chuckling to himself. The older man twisted around on the couch to watch Connor confidently stride into the kitchen and start rummaging around in their designated "junk drawer."

"It was a lot of fun." Connor said as he looked up at the older man and really smiled. The kid's whole face got in on the action.

Hank's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He was pretty sure he had heard the kid right when the android had said that he was going over to help the teens study. 

"We played video games." Connor explained, still smiling excitedly. He pulled a pen and a blue Post-It from the drawer, scribbled in what was sure to be perfect CyberLife Sans and proudly slapped the new note on the fridge.

Video Games

Hank went out the next day and bought a Nintendo Switch, a PlayStation and a bunch of games.

Because he's an old fool with a bleeding heart.

And yeah, because he loves his weird, robot son and he just wants Connor to be happy.

Chapter Text

May 2019

When the weather finally turned warm around mid-May, Connor was no longer immediately reminded of Amanda and The Zen Garden every time he stepped outside. It was so nice out he even ditched his sports jacket more than once.

Hank had been so shocked by the change up in the android's work attire routine that his jaw had nearly hit the floor.

This morning, Connor woke from a vague and confusing nightmare filled with screams and regret at precisely 5:57 am, feeling unsettled and his chest tight with some unidentified emotion. He got up, changed into his "workout clothes" and set off for an early, Saturday morning run. He didn't want to wake up the older man and disturb his rest if he didn't need to.

It was something that Jim, who apparently was a bit of a "gym rat", liked to do in the mornings and had mentioned it to Connor the other day during lunch. The man had said that running helped clear his mind, still his thoughts, bring zen to his life.

Peace.

If there was once thing in this life Connor really needed, it was probably peace of mind.

Hank told him that often, too. "Chill," the older man always said, which had initially confused the android since that really was a temperature description and not a state of being. 

When Connor had mentioned the idea of jogging to Hank, the man had shrugged and said that he didn't think it would be exactly the same for Connor, but thought that the android should give it a try anyway.

So here he was, running through the streets at a pace his processor concluded was an average running speed for an adult male of twenty-one years old.

The real problem was that he didn't sweat. No matter how lifelike, how human-like, he was made to be, he wasn't human. Connor just hoped that he didn't run into anyone that he knew, not that he was familiar with more than a handful of people in this city of millions anyway.

And of course, it's when he's having these exact thoughts that he sees Steve Rogers, who is also out for a run.

Almost an hour after he left the apartment, Connor was jogging in place and waiting for the cross walk sign to turn white, when Captain Rogers ran up on his left and did the same. Thanks to his peripheral scanners, the android was immediately aware that the man next to him was Steve before the Captain even come to a complete halt.

He stopped jogging and his artificial breathing continued to draw in large amounts of air to cool his now warmed biocomponents. He was panting a bit when he greeted the Captain.

"Morning."

Rogers looked surprised for a split second before placing the android's face. Connor didn't blame him. 

Shortly after the revolution, Hank had bought Connor a bunch of clothes - Connor had also stolen some from Hank too - and the first time the older man saw the android in something other than the CyberLife uniform, Hank had succinctly told him how weird it was seeing Connor dressed like that. The uniform was all the other man had ever seen him wear. However, as time went on and Connor wore more of a variety of clothing, Hank said, "so weird" less and less.

The android actually hadn't heard those words directed at him and his clothing in sixty-two days.  However when he analyzed a chemical sample in the apartment yesterday, he had heard Hank mumble those words under his breath, but since the older man hadn't said it about Connor's clothes, the android obviously wasn't counting it.  

"Connor, nice to see you again." The Captain, breathing only slightly faster than usual, stuck out his hand to shake Connor's.

"Captain." Connor nodded and greeted the man.

"Steve, please." The cross walk sign lit up and Steve looked at Connor questioningly, inviting the android to join him.

After a moment's hesitation, Connor resumed his "average" pace, but after a few minutes, decided to pick it up a little.

He wasn't showing off. Absolutely not.

Connor could almost hear Hank laughing at him.

The two men jogged around the area and Steve seemed quite content to let Connor lead the way, which he did for nearly thirty minutes. The night before, the android had planned out this route and he knew that in another block they would reach a small park.

Once there, Connor gradually slowed his pace until he came to a stop. It was still early, so the area was relatively empty. His artificial lungs were working hard to keep his internal temperature within an optimal range. He had been running for well over an hour already.

Again, Steve barely seemed out of breath.

The Captain motioned to a park bench and the android followed him there. They sat in silence for a few minutes before Steve spoke. "Do you run often? I've been running in this area for a while now and I haven't seen you before."

Connor shook his head, "Only twice. Jim- James Vega in Mechanical Engineering said that he ran." The android looked down at his restless, fidgety hands. "He said it was peaceful, that it cleared his head."

Steve hummed in understanding. "Is it working?"

Connor chuckled darkly before looking out across the park. It looked like The Zen Garden, with it's winding paths and small clearing in the center. "I don't know."

The Captain nodded. "So, are you running towards something or away from something?" The man didn't look at Connor, just kept his eyes focused on the park in front of them.

The android turned to stare somewhat incredulously at him, surprised by the brazen question. Steve clearly pretended not to notice the look.

After a long moment, Connor faced forward again and sighed heavily. "From." He muttered and Steve inclined his head.

The silence stretched on for a minute before the android realized that the Captain was giving him the time and space to talk if he wanted to.

Software Instability Detected

It was a kind thing to do and Connor almost immediately declined the offer, but he remembered a conversation that he had with Hank right after his first nightmare.

"It's good to talk about it, Connor. Whatever it is."

The android sighed softly, drawing Steve's eyes. He opened his mouth, closed it again and swallowed roughly, his mouth suddenly dry. He didn't know where to start, but he tried again. "I- my mother," he ground out the word through clenched teeth, "her name is- was Amanda." He released a shaky exhale and missed the concerned look Steve gave him. "She wasn't a good... person. She hurt people. She wanted- made me hurt people too." Connor looked up at the sky and took an unsteady breath. "I should have done more to stop her, fought back sooner."

Connor opened his mouth to continue, but remembered they had a cover story to maintain. "She killed someone. She was under investigation by the Detroit Police and that's when I met Hank, my dad."

"Amanda chased me out into a snow storm one night. I didn't do what she wanted, I betrayed her." A rogue tear escaped his eye, remembering how Amanda had nearly taken his mind, his body and how close she had come to making him do even more horrible things to good, innocent people. He quickly wiped away the moisture and leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his legs. He wasn't sure if he could stop talking now, even if he tried. "She chased me into that storm and she tried to kill me. I trusted her. She'd always been there for me and she used me and then tried to kill me. I'm lucky Hank... found me. If it wasn't for him, I wouldn't be alive right now."

And Connor meant it. He'd be dead, killed off by his successor or having remained a machine without Hank, which was just a different kind of death. Marcus may have been the one to push Connor over the line, through the wall to deviancy, but the older man was the one who brought him to it. If the android hadn't been partnered with Hank, he knew for a fact that he wouldn't be here right now.

"I owe Hank everything. I owe him my life."

The emotions that Connor could feel building in his chest remained but the ache around his heart eased.

The android breathed in through his nose and exhaled through his mouth, straightening on the bench. Part of him was suddenly embarrassed, having been so openly emotional with someone he barely knew, but a larger part of him was thankful for the release and for the Captain's calm presence.

Speaking of, Connor turned to face the man.

Steve looked a bit horrified and very concerned. "What-um," he cleared his throat. "What happened to your mom?" Rogers asked hesitantly, like he wasn't sure he really wanted the answer.

The android averted his eyes. "Have you ever seen The Shinning?"

The Captain blinked owlishly for a few seconds. "Yeah." He nodded slowly. "Tony made me watch it. Said it was a classic."

Connor hummed, eyes still on the park. "Amanda died in the blizzard. She froze."

That was their cover story, but essentially, that was what Connor had done to her, at least on his end of the connection. He froze her out, wiped himself clean of her. He knew that somewhere in his universe her program still existed, but since the night of the revolution, Connor had built up and continued to build up his firewalls so strongly, he was certain that Amanda would never control him again.

And if she someone how managed to break past his firewalls, she would be in for one hell of a fight. 

Steve cringed and released a gust of air. He cursed softly. "If you ever want or need to talk, you can come to me. I'll listen." The man lifted a hand to scratch his beard, clearly not sure what else to say.

The android looked him in the eye for the first time in ten minutes, the side of his mouth just barely ticking upwards. "Thank you, Steve. I really appreciate it." He paused, thinking. "I guess it did work."

"What?"

Connor smirked. "The run."

They spent a little longer in the park, Steve not quite ready to leave Connor on his own. They did eventually part ways though and the android made his way back home.

It was just after 8:30 am when Connor let himself back into the apartment. It was dark, still and quiet inside, except for the gentle snores coming from Hank's room. 

Connor made his way over to the kitchen counter and dug a Sharpie and a yellow Post-It note out of the drawer.

He wrote "Grateful" and gently placed it on the fridge, his fingertips lingering on the paper for a few moments.

The feeling in his chest came back again and he instinctually made his way to Hank's room. The android silently opened the door, toed off his shoes and walked around to the unoccupied side of the man's bed.

He debated for a second before gently lowering himself down and laying flat on his back next to Hank, who was sleeping on his side. Connor turned his head to look at the man who had become his father, who had taken him in without question when the android had no where else to go.

The feeling in his chest throbbed fiercely, sharply, and without warning, a few tears slipped from his eyes. Turning on his side to face the older man, the android's breath shuddered and his chest ached.

More tears followed and his systems, now providing error messages, seemed to think that he was overheating, forcing him to try to breathe. His breaths came out in short gasps and before he could even try to understand what was happening to him, Connor was shaking with muffled sobs.

Hank opened his bleary eyes and jerked back in surprise, not expecting the android to be there. The older man cursed and scrambled to comfort him.

"Connor. What's wrong?" Hank quickly swept his gaze around the room. "What happened? Are you alright?"

For some reason the concern in the other man's voice made the android cry harder. He nodded. "I-I'm okay." He tried to take a full breath. "I d-don't know why this is happening."

Hank sat beside him, drew him close and rubbed a hand on Connor's back.

"Con, you've been through a lot. Sometimes," he paused, "sometimes you just gotta work through the emotions. Just be patient, it'll get better."

Connor tried his best to do just that and they stayed there for awhile. With Hank's steady, comforting presence and the man's warm hand running circles on his back, the android's cries eventually subsided.

His eyes slipped shut. The inexplicable need to rest brought on an involuntary startup of Rest Mode.

5

Connor cracked open his eyes and saw Hank making himself comfortable, reaching for a book with the hand not resting on the android's shoulder.

4

The older man got to the page he had earmarked last and glanced down at Connor.

3

Connor smiled at him. Hank grinned back. "Rest." He said. 

2

His eyes closed. "Thanks, dad."

1

--Rest Mode Initiated--

Chapter Text

May 2019

"Ok." Hank slapped his hands together, half jogging around the apartment. He was running late for work. Again.

If he had only gotten up when Connor had told him to.

"Ah, my keys." The older man snapped his fingers, turned back and grabbed them from the hook by the door before speeding off to his room again.

Connor sat at the kitchen table, sipping his heated thirium and watching the madness unfold before him like a king watching a gladiatorial match.

Who would win?

Hank.

Or time itself.

The man quickly made his way back towards the living room and cried out as he stepped on something. Hank was nearly brought down by the apparently excruciating pain, but resorted to doing a strange, hopping, one footed dance for 8.67 seconds.

Once he was no longer overcome with agony, the older man glanced down at whatever offending thing dared hurt him before looking up and fixing Connor with an impressive glare.

The android merely quirked an eyebrow at him.

Yes, Connor hadn't had a lot of time in Rest Mode this last week because he'd binge played Uncharted 4 and yes, he did feel like he was in a weird mood today.

He set down his cup and steepled his fingers in front of his face. 

He was "rolling" with it.

"Connor!" Hank barked, "How many times have I told you to clean up these damn Legos." He turned and gestured wildly to the slightly messy living room area.

The android rolled his eyes so hard he was sure his optical units were going to unscrew right out of his head.

Hank did not see the eye roll. That was probably a good thing. 

The older man sighed heavily and turned back towards him. "Con, I love you, but you gotta keep the Legos neat and clean."

Connor blinked, his processor blanking out and his thirium pump skipping a few beats.

His eyes widened and the rest of his face went slack.

Warning: Thirium Pump Irregularity

Error: Biocomponent 8456w

Warning: Artificial Respiration Malfunction

Consult a CyberLife Technician

He became perfectly still.

...I love you...

Software Instability Detected

"Con? Connor, you ok?" Hank looked at him worriedly.

Con, I love you...

A dopey grin spread across his face and all biocomponent systems returned to normal functionality. He blinked.

Hank, now less than a foot from his face, jerked back from Connor, startled by the sudden shift of expression in the android's countenance.

When had Hank moved so close?

Connor didn't know and he really didn't care. He stood and placed a hand on Hank's shoulder.

"I love you too, Dad." He pulled the older man close and squeezed. Gently. Humans were not as durable as androids.

After a few seconds, Hank chuckled and returned the hug.

"I'll clean up the Legos. Promise."

Hank huffed a laugh, clearly not believing Connor. "Sure." He said, dragging out the word. "Whatever you say, son."

A few hours later, Connor was at work, finagling a design for the recon drone project he had been given. He was having a hard time concentrating today.

The android looked up from his desk and saw Jim stick his tongue out at Aveline, who was seated at the workstation next him. The woman snorted softly and kicked a leg out towards Jim's chair, effectively pushing Jim to the end of his workstation. The two laughed quietly, trying and failing not to draw any unwanted attention to themselves.

Connor chuckled and looked back down at his computer. At least he wasn't the only one having trouble working.

He sighed and attempted to refocus his attention, but after a few minutes, knew it was a futile attempt. Annoyed and frustrated with his lack of progress, he stood up from his desk and made his way to the stairwell. He'd seen plenty of people go take walks on the stairs to relieve stress or just get away from their work. The android figured that he would give it a try today, hoping that it would help him refocus.

Thankfully when he entered the stairwell and checked, Connor found that he was the only one on the immediate flight of steps. He leaned up against the stairwell door, took a deep breath in through his nose and slowly released it.

He really needed to get at least six hours in Rest Mode tonight. The android didn't regret this week's nightly game time though. He found that he had enjoyed the game, it's characters and the story.

It was exciting. 

Plus, Hank said that it was good to have a hobby  and Connor thought video games made a great-

Warning

Suspicious Data Ping From Stark Industries AI (FRIDAY)

Warning

Suspicious Data Ping From Star....

Warning

Suspicious Data Ping Fr...

Warning

Suspici....

What? Connor frowned, his HUD quickly covering in Warning Messages. He moved away from the door, leaned against the wall and just remembered to close his eyes as he quickly accessed The Zen Garden program.

When the android opened his eyes a moment later, he was greeted by the cheerful, bright, digital garden he had created.  Connor didn't stop to admire the view however, instead marching straight toward Hank's house with determination.

As he walked, he called up the data he had mined and the information he was now getting access to. 

The data poured in, materializing in Connor's mind, in The Zen Garden, like holographic displays before him.

The android's eyes flicked inhumanly fast through the information, eyes growing wide in alarm.

Oh no.

No, no, no nonononononono.....

Hank was sitting at his desk, enjoying a Connor-free, chocolate donut sprinkled with just a little bit of guilt when George's lanky form flopped down into his own chair. The Lieutenant wheeled over to Hank and rested an elbow on the older man's desk, touching his fingers to his chin as he stared at Hank.

This was George's thinking face. The older man saw it a lot. 

Hank cocked an eyebrow, chewed and waited. He had a six month old son. He had patience for days.

Finally, George broke first. "So," he dragged out the syllable. "Do you have a donut for me?" He placed a hand dramatically on his chest.

Hank smirked, mouth still full of fried dough and reached for the paper bag under his desk. He tossed it at George, who opened it ravenously and immediately bit into the icing covered treat.

"Hank," he moaned and waved the bitten donut in the older man's direction. "You're the best partner I've ever had." He said loudly around the food he was chewing, side-eyeing the tall officer coming towards them.

"Hey!" Sergeant Jefferson Davis came up behind George and none too gently smacked the Lieutenant on the back of the head. "I was your partner, man. That's just cold."

Hank chuckled at George's antics. "I know, Jefferson, but you never bought me donuts." Stacy shrugged.

Jeff shook his head, clear disappointment on his face like he was staring down a misbehaving child. "That's a damn lie and you know it."

The Lieutenant laughed loudly and it was all Jeff could do to not join in. The tall man continued on his way towards Archives, but stopped when Hank called out to him.

The older man tossed another bag at Jeff and the Sergeant's eyes lit up when he opened it, revealing a jelly donut. "Thanks, Hank. I'll get you next time." He pointed to George. "But not him, though." Jeff smiled and walked out of the bullpen.

Hank's phone vibrated loudly on his desk and immediately vibrated again.

And again and again and again.

Hank and George both frowned, looking at the phone, and the older man wiped his hand on his pants before reaching for it.

RoboBaby: what no no no

RoboBaby: no no no nononono nononononononononono

RoboBaby : nonononononofjdisksbdhsn1liqi9nx2l7fjwlw

RoboBaby: fdgjdk32dg6d84gd6bnrun59fd67eywpobdf6

RoboBaby: df4b95fwirtp4dbd8f6b1vncmsldkdg2fvrywp4

Hank's spine straightened. He cursed. "I gotta- "

Another text came in.

RoboBaby: Come home as soon as you can. We need to talk. It's important.

Hank quickly typed out a response.

Me: Are you ok ??

A tense moment passed before Hank's phone vibrated again.

RoboBaby: Yes. Well... yes. I'm fine. I apologize for "text bombing" you like that. I'm fine. We just really need to talk after you get home from work. It's important.

Me: ok, kid...you sure you're all right ?

RoboBaby: I'm ok, Hank. Thank you. 😊

Hank sighed heavily and put down his phone. His android was going to be the death of him.

"Androids will make your life easier," CyberLife had said.  What a joke. 

"Hey, everything ok?" George was looking at him, face creased in worry.

Hank breathed out again, not sure how he had any sighs left in his body.

The older man cracked a very unconvincing smile. "Yeah, just," he waved his hand around ambiguously, hoping George would extrapolate some meaning out of the vague gesture. "Kids." Hank finished lamely with a shrug.

The Lieutenant nodded, very much not convinced of anything.

That night, Hank finally got home to see Connor sitting unnaturally still, eyes closed and fingers twitching, at the kitchen table. 

The older man had seen this before, though normally the kid forgot to close his eyes. They'd usually be flipping the hell out "Possession of Emily Rose" style, but it generally meant the android was sifting through large quantities of data.

Hank's been low-key panicking all day and the thought of what Connor could be processing was high-key freaking him out.

He scrubbed a hand over his face and pulled out one of the kitchen table chairs to sit.

Connor stilled and slowly opened his eyes. Brown irises flicked up to meet his questioning gaze.

"We have a problem."

Again, Hank exhaled heavily. "I figured, from your texts." He mentally braced himself and motioned for the kid to go on.

"I have been continuing my efforts to hack into Stark Industries' AI, and today, I stumbled upon something very troubling."

Connor's eyes rapidly flicked around for a moment before settling on the other man again. "Do you remember when we were researching this world and we found out about the organization Hydra?"

Hank nodded, a chill going through him.

"They were thought to be fully eradicated after World War II, but were in fact, still operational. Again, they were thought to be completely eliminated only a few years ago by some of the Avengers."

Hank cut in, not liking where this was going. "I take it they're not dead yet?"

Connor shook his head. "No, and they are in Stark Industries. Stark Tower is basically a giant Arc Reactor. They plan to take over the tower and cause an overload in the reactor. The resulting explosion would be the equivalent of a nuclear warhead going off in the middle of Manhattan."

The android's eyes widened, his gaze falling to the side, "The devastation would be ... unimaginable."

Hank cursed and hung his head. He ran a hand through his hair before looking up at the android again. "What do we do? We don't even know who we can trust."

"We need to locate, identify and possibly neutralize the rest of the cell. I am aware of one of the Hydra agents identities now. He has been sloppy covering his tracks. With time and patience, we may be able to stop them all." 

Hank nodded. "And if we don't, millions of people are going to die. The people we've met and spent the last few months with. Me. You." He added gruffly.

Connor frowned.

Stress Level: 56%

Probability of Successfully Stopping Hydra Attack: 34%

Well, Connor's worked with worse odds before and he would do whatever it took to increase their chances.

He updated his mission.

Secondary Objective:

Stop Hydra

Primary Mission:

Protect Hank Anderson

They had a lot of work to do, but statistically speaking, there was always a chance for unlikely events to take place.

Chapter Text

May 2019

Tony was honestly surprised when he managed to sneak up on Rogers and Barnes.

He was walking around the Avengers' floors in Stark Tower and reviewing the new armor designs sent in by Mechanical Engineering on his StarkPad, when he stopped at his current floor's "balcony" that overlooked the common area of the floor below.

Again, miraculously, neither Steve nor Bucky realized that he was up there and the billionaire could clearly hear their conversation.

At first, Tony didn't care all that much. He just gave himself a large pat on the back for the accomplishment, but then he heard "Connor" and he looked down at those designs he was holding by Connor Anderson. His attention was piqued.

"So we jogged around for a bit before we come to a park. Buck, I'm telling you, he looked," Steve paused, frowning, "haunted. I gave him time to talk if he wanted to. I wanted him to know I'd listen if he had something that he wanted to get off his chest."

Tony rolled his eyes. Typical Steve.

Bucky tilted his head to the side.

"Connor- he said that his mom hurt people, tried to make him hurt people. She killed someone and then she tried to kill him too." Steve shook his head slowly and turned his face to stare out the window.

Tony frowned in concern, wondering if this was the same Connor that he had hired a few months ago.

"I reached out to some of my contacts in the NYPD. Connor was ten when all this happened. He's twenty-one now and he still struggles with it." Rogers shifted in his seat and gestured with his hand. "I mean, Buck, the kid almost had a panic attack in the elevator the last time I saw him in the building. He was losing it."

Tony's brows dipped further and he accessed FRIDAY on the StarkPad. FRIDAY was not technically legally connected to the NYPD and FBI.

Stark smirked a little. Honestly, what were they going to do to him?

Searching: Connor Anderson....

Tony pulled up the files he found, matched the right date of birth from SI's employee records and started scrolling through the background history he dug up.

The billionaire's eyes widened and he swore loudly, accidentally drawing the attention of the two supersoldiers below him.

"Sorry." Tony mumbled, making his way back to his lab.

Hank and Connor started an evidence board in the older man's room. It's complicated.

After the board was as completed as they could make it right now, both men sat on Hank's bed, contemplating the new information.

And drinking.

Beer didn't do anything to Connor, but he liked the taste.

Beer did do something to Hank though, who also liked the taste, but it was the diet, lite beer, because the android was just cruel like that.

The older man sighed. This whole thing was crazy.

Insane Nazis trying to blow up New York.

This stupid board of perps that Connor had been able to uncover, with aliases and unknown terrorists still to be identified.

This whole stupid alternate reality.

What was even their lives right now?

Hi, my name's Hank and I'm from an ALTERNATE REALITY without Superheroes and Aliens and God Knows What Else. And oh yeah, that's right! Super-secret, Nazi organizations hellbent on global domination in the modern century.

What The Hell?

Next to Hank on the bed, Connor let out a bone-deep, world-weary sigh that clearly and succinctly vocalized the older man's internal monologue and then flopped, actually flopped, back onto the bed, all while keeping the beer in his hand upright as he did so.

Hank side-eyed the kid, brimming with pride, and grimaced as he took another sip of the crappy beer.

"So, we've got one mid-level Hydra agent who's communicating with at least eight other people, all of whom are located in Stark Industries' Tower? And the only person you've identified so far is Todd Hepner?"

Again, Connor exhaled loudly. "Yeah."

"Ok," Hank pursed his lips, "So, you're going to keep digging into the AI, 'cause these idiots are doing the same thing, and we're hoping that you'll be able track, identify and locate the rest of the cell. Then we either eliminate them or," he paused, waving his beer around vaguely, "we tell the Avengers?"

Connor hummed in agreement.

Hank looked behind him at the kid, noticing the android staring at the bedroom ceiling. The older man craned his head back to look too but there was nothing of interest.

Just the white wash of the paint. 

He looked back to Connor, his eyes narrowing suspiciously.

The kid had the barest hint of a smile on his lips.

"You watching puppy videos again?"

Connor jerked, lifting his head. His brown eyes jumped to meet Hank's and the older man saw the lie before it even came out of the android's mouth. "No, of course not."

Hank glared.

"You have had my full, undivided attention this whole time."

The older man didn't budge.

"Seriously, I'm not lying."

Hank narrowed his eyes just a little bit more.

"Fine!" The android's head fell back down. "Ok, you got me." He said in exasperation. "I've been watching videos for a few minutes. I can do both, you know." His head and his pointer finger came back up again. "I am a state of the art prototype. I can multitask." Connor tried to justify.

Hank smirked. "Don't think anyone intended for you to be working on neutralizing a terrorist threat and watching cute animal videos at the same time, Con."

When Hank didn't get any more than a mumbled response of "They are cute," from the six month old, he shook his head and chuckled.

Kids.

About a week later, everyone in the mechanical engineering department was taken off of their individual assignments and put onto one project. It was a new kind of Quinjet that apparently needed to be completed as soon as possible.

It had been chaos in the lab for the last week. They had all worked together trying to solve the many issues they encountered while attempting to develop a viable design for the aircraft with all the features they were told would be needed.

To say that Connor was stressed during this time would be an understatement, but he was trying to see it as a good thing. Being forced to work closely with some people in his department helped him to develop certain redirection methods, passive-aggressive comments and sarcastic comebacks that would all be very beneficial for him when dealing with Detective Reed back home. He'd also been able to observe and get closer to his coworkers.

Although, he would be overjoyed if he never had to spend another second with Dr. Jonathan Bauer. The man was rude, obnoxious and thought that he was better than everyone else. 

The jerk was probably Hydra. It definitely fit his personality.

Connor had initially estimated there to be nine people in the terrorist cell, but over the last week he had confirmed two more for a total of eleven.

Hopefully, that was it.

He was almost positive that Bauer was going to make it on the Hydra board, but Hank wouldn't let him add the Doctor until they had actual "evidence."

So, Connor's been monitoring Bauer and Todd closely. He was actually able to clone both mens' phones one day during the hectic six and a half day stretch.

The week of working almost all day and night and with a lot of other people that he normally didn't interact with finally came to an end when they presented their designs to Dr. Wong, who then gave the project over to Tony Stark.

At 5:07 pm, Dr. Wong came out of her office and announced, "Go the hell home. Get some rest."

Jim was standing next to Connor then and turned to look at the android. "Hey, you wanna go get a drink? Me and Aveline are gunna go to this bar nearby if you wanna join us."

Software Instability Detected

"Uh, yeah. That sounds good. Thank you." Connor smiled. He's been working on sounding "less like a walking dictionary," according to Hank.

Twenty minutes later, the small group entered the bar, found a booth and ordered a round of drinks.

"Well, this week sucked." Aveline declared loudly. Slouched in her seat, she was barely keeping her head up with her hand.

Connor and Jim both nodded. It really was a long week. Inexplicably, it seemed to drag on and on forever. The android wasn't sure how that was even possible. Time was time; it should always move at the same pace.

Jim lifted his beer and took a large swallow while Connor picked at the label on his bottle.

"So Connor, I've known Jimmy here a while- "

Jim rolled his eyes. "Jim, just Jim."

Aveline didn't even pause, "And I know a lot about him, but I don't know too much about you." She rested on her elbows as she leaned across the booth towards him. The redhead interlaced her fingers.

Connor had the distinct feeling that he just entered an interrogation. The android swallowed dryly, suddenly nervous. 

"So, Connor, what's your favorite animal?"

He blinked owlishly. "W-what?"

Aveline chuckled and Jim gently nudged her with his elbow.

"She's just messing with you."

"No, I'm not." She straightened and turned to face Jim. "You can learn a lot about a person by their favorite animal." The woman couldn't keep a straight face and started laughing.

Connor, not really understanding the joke, chuckled along anyway. "Well, I like dogs the most." He offered and inclined his head.

"See? Dog person. Loyal, kind, loving." Jim shook his head at Aveline's antics. "Ok, so I like reading books and Jimmy here practically lives at the gym. What about you? Got any hobbies?"

Connor's eyes drifted away for a second. He and Hank had practiced this many times. "Well, I like doing puzzles, specifically Sudoku." He tilted his head and his eyes drifted to the left, like he was thinking about what to say next. "I like paintballing too." He paused, "I also like watching movies and Jim suggested I try running. I am finding that to be enjoyable."

Aveline nodded and opened her mouth to ask another question, but Jim beat her to it. "Paintball?"

Connor nodded. He'd never actually been paintballing, but Hank said that the best lies had a little bit of truth in them and Connor did enjoy going to the firing range at the DPD.

After he was reinstated on the force, Connor and Hank had a few firing range competitions. The older man was an excellent shot and had a surprising amount of knowledge on many different types of firearms. However, as good as Hank was, he just couldn't compete with Connor's inhuman precision.

The android still held that over Hank's head. Subtly, of course. He didn't want to rub the older man's face in it too badly.

"My dad is a cop. He made sure I know how to use a gun. He and I go paintballing when we have time."

Jim gaped at him from across the table. "That's so cool! Your dad sounds awesome. My dad just likes to fish."

Aveline nodded in agreement and it took everything in Connor not to launch into a detailed description of just how cool his dad actually was. Hank had recently explained to the android that over-complimenting ones parents to ones friends could be seen as weird, not cool, and something that the android should avoid doing. 

He had already done just that with one of their neighbors down the hall and now that woman wouldn't leave Hank alone. She was always asking to borrow sugar. 

Connor was confused and Hank was mostly annoyed. Hence, the conversation about complimenting ones parents. 

When Jim went to take another drink, he put the bottle down with a groan. "It's empty." He pouted.

Connor noted that Aveline's drink was almost done as well.

"I'll go get another round. Do you guys want the same?" They both nodded and Connor got up from the booth, making his way across the now crowded room.

Once he reached the bar, he placed their order for more drinks. As he waited and tried to discreetly wipe off whatever stickiness he had picked up from the bar top, a light haired woman sidled up next to him. She was unsteady on her feet and smiled too widely. Her expression reminded him of the DPD's stray, tabby cat that lived in the alley behind the precinct and everyone fed, right before it pounced on a mouse.

 
Connor's brow furrowed as the blonde openly eyed him up and down, making him suddenly feel very uncomfortable. The woman was so close to him that he could taste her breath.

Instinctually, the android opened up his facial recognition program and scanned her. 

Name: Jennifer D'Antonio

Age: 44

Criminal Record: Public Intoxication

Threat Assessment: Low

Blood Alcohol Content: .23

Connor closed the analysis. It was better to not engage with someone that intoxicated.

The android turned back toward the bar, quietly tapping his fingers against the still incredibly sticky ledge.

"Hey, honey. Wanna buy a girl a drink?" Jennifer slurred. She leaned very close to him and laid a hand heedlessly on his arm.

Connor's eyes widened and he backed up, but couldn't take more than a step because of the people crowded around them.

Her grip tightened a little around his bicep and she looked at him in appreciation. "I've always liked a man that works out." Jennifer leaned in closely to Connor.

Stress Level: 62%

Her intoxicated breath hit his face and Connor really wished Hank was there right now.

The android started to ask the woman to Get Off, but a clear voice rang through the crowd to his right.

"Connor!" Aveline pushed her way through the people around him. "There you are, babe! I've been looking all over for you." The redhead bodily stepped in front of Jennifer, effectively knocking her out of the way and just barely kissed the android's cheek.

Software Instability Detected

 Stress Level: 54%

Connor's mouth opened slightly and Aveline looked at him expectantly. "Hi... sweetheart. How-how was your day?" His gaze flicked over to Jennifer's glare. The older woman sighed dramatically and turned to make her way back into the crowd.

Connor's whole body sagged in relief. That was extremely unpleasant.

He looked up at Aveline and smiled brightly. "Thank you," he said with genuine gratitude.

The redhead lit up. "No problem, man. That's what friends are for." She pointed at the bar tender who was carrying their drinks to them. "Finally! Let's get back to Jim."

As they made their way back to the booth, Connor received a few backlogged texts from Hank.

Hank: what's wrong ?

Hank: you ok kid ?

Hank: Connor, where are you ?

Hank: Connor! answer me. I'm coming to ya

Nearly stopping short, Connor realized that he must have panicked and accidentally texted Hank again.

313 248 317-52: Sorry, Hank! I'm ok. I promise, I was...alarmed.

Hank: ugh kid

Hank: you're killing me

Hank: what happened?

313 248 317-52: I'll explain when I see you at the apartment, but I'm ok. And I believe I've made a new friend today.

Hank: okkk, that's good. you sure you're ok though ?

313 248 317-52: Yes. 😊 I'm good. Thank you, Dad. I'll see you soon.

Chapter Text

May 2019

It wasn't really a good day.

And thankfully they didn't have to actually go anywhere or do anything today.

Sometimes, Connor had bad days and sometimes Hank had bad days. Thankfully, their bad days hadn't ever happened on the same day.

Until today, of course.

Connor had discovered over the last few months that he did in fact enjoy being wrapped up like a "human burrito." It was warm and comforting in a way he didn't really understand.

After the blizzard in The Zen Garden, the android detested being cold with every circuit and wire of his being.

At 8:00 am when Connor exited Rest Mode from another nightmare filled with the faces of those he had hurt and gotten killed, he decided that today was a day that he just... couldn't.

So, he didn't.

Tugging the blankets securely around himself, the android laid in bed, just staring at the white ceiling. His processor was strangely silent today and after a little while, he glanced left, noting that his bedside clock read 10:49 am.

Connor's brow furrowed and worry settled heavily in his chest.

Firstly, the android did not understand where the last three-ish hours went.

Secondly, Hank should have been up by now.

Connor craned his head to try to hear more of their apartment outside his room, but nothing changed. It was silent.

Unsettled, he heaved himself up from the bed and brought his covers to stand with him. He wrapped the blankets tightly around his shoulders.

Android Burrito.

He shuffled out of his room, across the small hall and into Hank's. The android did not bother knocking since the older man's door was already cracked open.

Hank was lying on his side, facing the window, with his back to Connor.

The android used his scanners and determined that the older man's respirations were too high for sleep. Hank was awake.

And apparently, he was having a bad day too.

Connor dragged himself and his bedding to Hank's bed and carefully laid down on his side next to the older man.

Hank sighed softly, but didn't move or speak.

The andoid had learned in the last few months that it was better not to push, but to just be there for his father.

He scooted approximately one foot away from the older man and brought his knees closer to his chest. He stuck out one loosely clenched fist from his blankets and extended it towards Hank's back, letting his knuckles graze the other man's shoulder.

Connor just wanted his dad to know that he wasn't alone.

Time passed quickly and slowly in a way that the android couldn't really comprehend. The longer Connor lay there, there more exhausted he felt. His processor and biocomponents felt sluggish, like his thirium was too thick.

He didn't know it was even possible for an android to feel so lethargic.

His eyes slipped shut.

Entering Rest Mode

The android didn't remember executing that command and he's fairly sure he didn't, but Connor's pretty sure that's the best idea he's ever had.

Hank shifted a little next to him.

Maybe when Connor woke up he'd feel a little less tir-

Four hours and twenty-nine minutes later, Connor exited a dreamless Rest Mode.

His eyes fluttered open into the dimly lit room.

Hank was propped up with a few pillows behind his back, watching the small TV Connor had bought and installed on the far wall a little over a month ago. The TV volume was low as to not disturb the android and he was extremely grateful for the older man's thoughtfulness.

Connor stretched a little, flexing his synthetic muscles and tendons, and drew Hank's attention.

"Hey, kid." Hank said, his voice rough from disuse. "You sleep ok? You were out like a light."

Connor smirked at the idiom, but refrained from correcting Hank's choice of the word "sleep." The android hummed and gave Hank the barest of nods. He burrowed a little deeper into his blankets, feeling more relaxed, rested, better than he had before.

Hank smirked at the action, before turning his attention back to the TV.

It was currently 4:32 pm and by Connor's past statistical analyses, there was a seventy-two percent chance that Hank did not eat anything today and an eighty-nine percent chance that the man had no intention of doing so for the rest of day.

Thank RA9 that Connor's brain was directly connected to the internet. The android wirelessly placed a delivery order for Hank's favorite meat lover's pizza.

Connor had also learned in the last few months that it wasn't so bad to cheat with the food once in a while and that compromise was a good thing. He'd rather see Hank perk up and eat something than not eat anything at all.

The delivery confirmation he received said that the pizza would be there in thirty minutes or less.

Perfect, just enough time to finish the current episode of Brooklyn 99 that Hank was watching.

Connor shot a hand out of his bedding and grabbed one of Hank's discarded pillows. He positioned it under his head and angled himself so he could watch the show too.

The older man glanced his way and the corner of his mouth ticked up again. Hank raised the volume of the TV.

Hank loved this old show. He used to watch it when he was younger and try to match up the actors and actresses to people he had actually worked with at the time. It was hard to believe, but Jeffrey, back in the day before Captain-hood, had reminded him a lot of Jake. He always running around pranking people and getting involved in their lives. 

Hank jumped as a loud knock on the front door resounded through the apartment. He groaned and leaned back into his pillows, trying to muster up the will to get up.

It was probably their neighbor, Shannon, again. She kept coming over asking for ingredients and then she wouldn't stop the outrageous flirting. And it was all because Connor was an innocent kid and thought too much of a washed up, old man.

So annoying: Shannon, not Connor. 

Well, sometimes Connor when he kept sticking random crap in his mouth for analysis.

Hank breathed out slowly and started to pull himself up, but Connor's hand on his arm stopped his movement. He turned to look at the android with an arched brow.

"I got it." Connor said. He flicked back his mound of blankets, or "The Burrito" as the kid was found of calling it, and made his way toward the apartment door with his hair sticking up in every direction.

Hank huffed, leaning back a little and lowered the volume of the TV. He narrowed his eyes in an attempt to hear who Connor could be talking to, but couldn't make anything out. Connor and whoever was at the door just sounded like the adults in Charlie Brown.

Wah Wah, Wah Wah. Man, he was getting old.

The apartment door closed and Hank heard Connor walking around the apartment. After a few minutes, the disheveled android came back into the room doing a balancing act. In one hand he had plates, napkins and a bottle of thirium resting on a box of pizza, which smelled amazing and made the older man hungry. In the other hand, the kid held three bottles of beer.

Connor placed the stuff down at the foot of the bed and sat cross legged where he had been laying. He handed Hank a plate, a slice of pizza and one of the open beers.

Hank took it all with hesitation, feeling guilt squirm in his gut.

The android was just a kid. He was literally only six months old. He shouldn't have to take care of an old sack like Hank.

The older man signed, picking at his pizza, suddenly not feeling hungry at all.

Connor started eating his one slice slowly and sipping his beer. Hank might be having a crappy day, but he was still with it enough to notice that the kid was eyeing him every few seconds, checking up on him.

On the next commercial break, the android rested his plate on his lap and kept his eyes glued to the television. "Thank you for letting me stay and rest here with you." Connor's voice broke the stillness of the room.

Hank's eyebrows jumped to his hairline and he turned to face the android.

Still looking at the TV, Connor continued. "I really needed it. I find your presence to be," he hesitated and looked down at his lap, "a great comfort to me." Tilting his head, he looked Hank in the eye. "Thank you."

The older man was speechless for a moment before he smiled towards the android and pointed a long finger at the kid. "Thank you for hanging out here with me today." He put a hand to his chest. "I really needed it, kid. And I'm sorry your stuck taking care of this old man."

Connor regarded him, giving Hank the same look he gave evidence that needed to be analyzed. "I'm not 'stuck' taking care of you. I want to take care of you."

Hank's heart always constricted when the kid used the word "want."

"Just like you have repeatedly expressed the desire to take care of me." The android took a breath and turned fully towards the older man. "That's what families do, right? They take care of each other?"

Hank's throat tightened up and his vision got a little blurry. He nodded. "Yeah, son. That's what families do. That's what we do." He swallowed thickly.

He felt like there was so much more he could say, might say, but he didn't know how to put it into words.

Connor nodded in understanding anyway and scooted himself across the bed until they were sitting side by side. The android leaned back against the headboard with his shoulder and part of his right leg resting against Hank's.

The older man patted the kid's thigh twice before giving the spot above his knee a quick squeeze.

Family.

Hank smirked. He hadn't had that in a while and he was damn glad this kid was his family now.

Another minute passed in companionable silence before the show came back on.

Two of the characters were holding hands on TV and Hank was struck with the memory of when he saw Marcus and North doing just that at the precinct earlier in the year. Their artificial skin had retracted as they touched hands vertically.

"Hey, Con?" The android turned to him and hummed questioningly, his mouth full of pizza.

"I know that androids greet each other certain ways, with the whole 'no skin' thing. I've seen Marcus and North holding their hands upwards and I've seen you greet new androids on the forearm." Hank paused, trying to think of how to word it. "Is there a way that family greet each other?"

Keeping it casual and not wanting to make Connor skittish, the older man kept his eyes on the TV.

The android too turned to stare at the television, but his fingers fiddled with the half eaten pizza on his plate, betraying his disquiet.

"Well, the androids who have designated themselves as family members generally greet, acknowledge, interface or hold each other with something similar to a handshake. Friends that are considered close can also receive the same greeting."

"So, a handshake?" Hank's brows drew together.

"Sort of. What matters in this instance is that the palms are touching. Touching palms is reserved for those that you trust or love, regardless if it is familial or romantic."

The kid still messed with the pizza. "As long at the hands are not flat together and vertical, then it is familial. Flat and vertical is romantic. Hand to forearm is for either an acquaintance or friend."

"The information that is exchanged through the hand to forearm gesture is usually very basic or something like an information dump. Palm to palm information is generally more," Connor hesitated, "intimate. Personal. Usually there is a transference of feelings as well."

Hank nodded in understanding. Made sense.

And because he knew Connor, he knew that the kid probably never interfaced or whatever with anyone except to exchange information. And the android probably wouldn't for a long time because of what Amanda did to him either.

But that didn't stop Hank for a second. He looked at the kid's face and extended his left arm towards the android.

Connor turned wide eyes towards Hank.

"I know we can't connect 'cause I'm obviously not an android." The older man gestured to himself. "But you're still my family, son, and you always will be."

Connor's eyes shone brightly and a lone tear tracked down his face. With his right hand, the android took hold of Hank's and gave it a gentle squeeze.

They held hands for a while that night, drawing strength and comfort from each other.

From their family.

Chapter Text

June 2019

"Hey." Hank burst into Connor's room while the android had his head tilted back, drinking his morning thirium.

Connor's whole body jerked in surprise and he choked on the mixture he was in the middle of swallowing. A fine, blue mist forcefully escaped his mouth and nose.

"So, don't make any plans for Saturday, ok?" Hank continued talking like nothing had happened.

Connor fixed the older man with his most aggressive "Hank Glare #9," that was used exclusively on ballsy, anti-android perps that bad-mouthed him right in front of the older man. The android lifted his hand to wipe off the blue blood leaking from his nose and mouth, no doubt looking like he belonged in that horror movie Hank had made him watch last week.

"We're gonna go to the beach. You've never been and it's pretty awesome. We need to get bathing suits though, so maybe we should plan on getting those tonight." The older man paused in thought for a second before looking the android in the eye. "You can swim right? Or float? You won't short circuit or sink like a stone will you?"

Connor paused his attempts to clean up the blood now smeared all over the lower half of his face. He slowly turned his head towards Hank.

Seriously?

The android tried to control his facial expression, but knew that he failed miserably when the older man smirked at Connor's highly offended demeanor.

"Hank," the android said tightly, carefully enunciating every word he spoke. "I am a state of the art prototype. Of course, I can swim." He glared meaningfully.

Hank pressed his lips together, barely containing a laugh, and Connor's eyes narrowed dangerously.

"Ok, ok. So, beach on Saturday? Sound good?" The older man raised his hands in peaceful surrender.

The android glowered for a moment longer before relaxing. "Sounds good. Thanks." He gave up his attempt to clean up with his hand and grabbed the T-shirt he had worn yesterday. Once he finished rubbing the thirium off his face, he looked up to see Hank watching him with a mildly nauseated expression.

Connor smiled unnaturally wide, just to freak the other man out a little.

Later that day, Connor decided that he needed a break from his work station and made his way out of the building to try and enjoy the beautiful weather they were having. There was a small park that the android liked to frequent near Stark Tower that had an ice cream vendor set up by the benches. It felt like an ice cream kind of a day.

He was excited just thinking about the prospect of going to the beach this weekend with Hank and he was touched by older man's thoughtfulness too. A beach day didn't seem like a typical activity that Hank would participate in, especially with the extreme heat and the probability of ending up with a sunburn. The android's research said that prolonged exposure to the sun's harmful UV rays could be very painful for humans.

Connor shuddered.

Their skin could even peel off if the damage was severe enough. 

Speaking of skin, the android set a reminder prompt to change his pigment slightly after they came back from the trip.

Just in case anyone asked about his weekend plans or actually saw him at the beach.

Connor's thoughts were interrupted when he heard a shout from the alley he had just passed. The android stopped abruptly, turned around and made his way back.

He peered into the alley and saw Peter Parker, surrounded by three other male teenagers.

Connor's scans revealed that all four teens attended the same Midtown High School in Queens.

The oldest of the group, Michael Evans, pushed Peter hard in the chest, making the teen stumble backward. His backpack fell to the ground and his notebook flew out. The one named Eugene Thompson stepped forward and thrust a finger in Peter's face.

 Stress Level: 48%

Warning: Increased Internal Temperature

Connor had seen enough and stepped into the alley.

"Peter!" He called out, quickly jogging over. "There you are. I thought we were meeting at Stark Industries?"

The three other boys backed up and turned to assess the android. Peter's eyes widened.

Connor couldn't tell if the expression on his friend's face was shock or embarrassment.

The android's eyes flicked back over to the three teenagers and he noted with dismay that he wasn't the tallest in this group. The third teen facing off against Connor, Jordan Phillips, was six feet and two inches tall.

However, the android clearly appeared to be an adult and Connor hoped that would be enough to deter the other adolescents from getting into a physical altercation with him. A fight wouldn't be good for either his or Peter's cover stories.

The android fell back on his negotiator programming.

Intimidate

       Protect Peter

He squared his shoulders and straightened his posture, making himself appear slightly larger. "Peter, let's go. We're going to be late for our meeting."

After a tense moment, Eugene scoffed, but allowed Peter to scurry past him to grab his backpack and notebook before joining Connor.

Once the teen moved passed him, the android stepped directly behind his friend, effectively blocking him from the view of the other teenagers. Connor gently laid his hand on Peter's back and steered him around the corner and towards the direction of the park.

They walked the remaining two blocks in silence before they reached the park benches. "Thanks," Peter mumbled. "For that back there." He spoke up a little louder. "You didn't have to step in, but... I appreciate it." Peter kept his eyes forward as they took a seat.

Connor tilted his head toward the teenager. "Are you alright?"

Peter nodded and crossed his arms.

Defensive: The android's analysis program supplied.

The teen exhaled and stretched out his lanky legs. "Yeah, I'm good. Those guys," he inhaled, "they're just jerks. From school. It's fine, really."

Connor nodded, deciding not push the clearly sensitive subject, and leaned towards Peter conspiratorially. "Do you want to get ice cream with me?"  He inclined his head towards the ice cream vendor.

Zeroing in on the dessert, the teen instantly perked up.

Connor stood and motioned for Peter to follow him.

An hour later, they made their way back to Stark Tower and Peter seemed to have finally relaxed after they spent time discussing hobbies, music, video games and movies.

They discovered that they actually had a lot in common, especially their taste in movies and video games.

As they stood in the elevator waiting to get to their floor, Peter turned to the android. "Hey, uh, next time Ned and I play video games, you wanna come hang out?"

Connor smiled shyly. "I would like that."

Peter grinned back at him.

When Saturday finally came, Hank and Connor packed up what they needed and headed to Fire Island for their beach day.

It was crowded and hot, but Hank had to just keep reminding himself that it was for the kid.

The older man had a secret list of things planned for the next few months, culminating in a surprise he was sure the android was going to love for his birthday in November.

Once they found a halfway decent spot to park it on the beach, the kid turned to him. "Hank, I must insist that you put on sunscreen. Every moment that you are exposed-"

"Connor," Hank whined. "We just got here." He turned to look at the android, who was staring at him worriedly with his large, brown eyes. Like a sad puppy.

The older man groaned loudly and rolled his eyes. Damn his stupid, bleeding heart.

He took the proffered bottle of sunscreen and proceeded to put it on under the ever watchful eye of Connor, who was trying to pretend that he wasn't making sure that Hank got every inch of exposed skin.

As the older man finished applying the sunscreen, he turned to the android. "So, Con, we can sit here for a little, enjoy the sun and the breeze, or we can go in the water. What are you feeling?"

Connor turned to face the undulating water, deep in thought. After a minute or so he turned back to Hank with a grin. "Perhaps we can go in the water and then sit out and enjoy the sun?"

Hank slapped the kid's shoulder and nodded. "Good plan. Let's go."

The android slowly took off his shoes, stepped off their towels and into the sand. He flexed his toes with an astonished, but confused look on his face.

Hank sometimes forgot that all this was brand new to the kid. The older man turned back to face the android and crossed his arms, waiting patiently.

Connor stayed like that, just looking at the sand and moving his feet around for a few minutes before looking back up at Hank with a smile.

The kid had such child-like wonderment sometimes.

"This is very... strange." Connor knelt down to run his fingers through the sand. "I've never felt anything like this before. And I've never walked on such an uneven surface. This type of terrain would not be ideal for pursuing a suspect." He stated the last part so matter-of-factly that Hank burst out in gruff laughter.

The older man shook his head and smiled. "Geez, Con."

The android stood, beaming up at him and Hank couldn't help but return the look.

"Shall we?" The kid indicated the water.

As they walked toward the ocean, the older man had a funny thought. "I wonder if you'll get dock rock later tonight."

Connor's brows dipped in confusion and his eyes went a little blank. Hank recognized the look as the android doing an internet search.

A moment later the android seemed to come back to himself. "'The illusion of self-motion. Not experienced by everyone though.'" He turned to look at Hank, shaking his head. "I do not think that is something that I can experience."

"You never know." The older man shrugged.

Connor took a few steps into the ocean, the water reaching up to his ankles. Hank paused there too. It was enjoyable to watch the android.

The ocean rolled back and forth, the kids feet slowly becoming submerged in the sand. The android looked up at Hank in shock and picked up his feet to unbury them. After another round of waves, he started again toward the ocean.

The older man sucked in a quick breath at the rush of cold water and Connor did too. The kid turned to him in surprise, baring his teeth in a grimace at the sharp contrast of hot air and chilly water.

Not far from them, Hank noticed a wave coming in with a little more power behind it than the others and braced for impact.

Oh yeah, the kid.

He turned to warn the android, but it was too late. The older man stumbled back a few steps, but Connor, who had never experienced a real wave before, was knocked right onto his backside. The android sputtered and looked around in shock, but before he could get to his feet, another wave came in and knocked him over completely.

Hank laughed raucously, quickly reached down and heaved the kid to his feet. His back was going to hurt tomorrow from that move, but he smiled widely and clapped Connor on the back.

The android turned to him with wide eyes and a slacked jaw, his wet hair sticking up in a hundred different directions.

"I... wasn't expecting that."

As the next wave approached, Connor got a mischievous glint in his eyes and with a one-sided smirk, he dove right into the wave.

The two men stayed in the water for almost three hours before getting out and making their way back to the beach chairs and towels.

They both sat and Hank opened the cooler to get out his turkey and veggie sandwich. He was starving.

Connor stretched himself out, letting the sun dry his clothes and skin. By the time Hank was finished with his sandwich, the kid seemed to have entered Rest Mode. His eyes were closed and his breathing was slow and steady.

With an arched brow, the older man eyed the android thoughtfully. Hopefully prolonged sun exposure didn't do anything to Connor's skin.

Or his biocomponents.

Sometimes when Hank would leave his old phone out in the sun for too long, it would have to cool off for a while before it would turn on again.

Hank grimaced. He'd wake the kid in an hour and check in, make sure that Connor was alright.

The older man set an alarm and closed his eyes, intent on taking a short nap.

When Hank woke up to the softly chiming alarm from his phone, the umbrella was open above him and Connor had moved his chair much closer to Hank's to be under the shade too. The kid was looking at the ocean, a warm breeze playing through the android's hair and a look of complete peace on his face.

The older man could count on one hand the number of times that he's seen that look on Connor.

Hank smiled and closed his eyes again. He'd count today as a success.

When they got back home to the apartment, Connor made a beeline for the blue Post-It notes.

"The Beach" found a place on the fridge.

Mystified, Connor informed Hank the next morning that he did in fact feel like he was lying in the ocean while he was in bed last night.

Chapter Text

Connor ran.

Gunshots and screams echoed all around him in the tight, rusted corridor. The sounds were deafening: so much louder than anything Connor had ever heard before.

His thirium pump beat too fast and his chest felt like it was being squeezed.

The android reached a dead end in the corridor, now only able to go left or right in the intersecting hallway.

Connor watched in horror as a man in black tactical gear shot an android that was slumped against the the left corridor wall.

The android cried out in pain, broken and static filled. Its body jerked helplessly and blood poured out of it.

Its mouth hung open as it died, LED going dark.

The man in black turned unnaturally slow to face him and Connor felt himself being pushed forward towards the right hall.

Markus moved past him, pulling Connor with him to flee from the gunman.

The android felt relief wash over him at the sight of the deviant leader and Connor followed closely on Markus's heels.

Innumerable android bodies lined the halls where they had been shot down. Executed.

Blue blood painted the corridor.

Oh, Connor...

Markus began to outpace him, getting further and further away until the deviant leader sped around a corner and out of sight.

Connor followed, now twelve steps behind, but skidded to a halt. Markus was nowhere to be seen. There were so many doors in this hallway and Markus could have taken any one of them.

The android bit his lip. He couldn't call out for the deviant leader. Connor would be heard by the gunmen searching Jericho and he would be killed.

He tried to run his reconstruction program, but only received Error Messages crowding up his HUD.

Gunshots rang out from the corridor he had just left.

Connor flinched. He was running out of time.

Taking a quick breath, the android yanked open the closest door and stepped through.

He was immediately knocked back by a cold, snowy gust of wind and Connor lifted his hand, looking down to block out the icy squall.

He sucked in a startled breath.

Connor was knee deep in broken, bleeding, dismembered androids.

When he lifted his head, all he could see was a never ending ocean of dead.

And in the center of it all was the bridge, platform and trellis from The Zen Garden.

Connor could see Hank there, waving the android over.

He needed to get to Hank.

A muffled sob escaped him, but he steeled himself. Straightening, he slowly trudged through the corpses.

A twitching hand reached out from the carnage to grab Connor, but only managed to smear blood on him. Another damaged android extended a mangled arm and grabbed his jacket. She pulled him close.

"Murderer. W-w-why?" She asked brokenly as blue blood seeped from her mouth.

Connor reeled back in shock, his stalling processor identifying her as Kara and the broken YK500 in her arms as Alice.

The child's head twitched jerkily towards him.

"You killed us, Deviant Hunter."

You did what you were designed to do...

Connor tried to step back, away from the mother and daughter, but he hit into the solid form of Carlos Ortiz's android standing menacingly behind him.

The android roughly grabbed hold of Connor and the blood from his self-inflicted headshot splashed onto the brunette.

Connor shook the mutilated android off of himself and moved as quickly as he could towards Hank.

Damaged androids kept trying to stop him, to hold him back and pull him down into the sea of corpses. They tore, scratched, made him bleed.

Don't have any regrets....

By the time he reached the inclined bridge that led to Hank and The Zen Garden platform, Connor was exhausted and shaking. He could barely move. Error Message after Error Message flooded his HUD, but beyond all of that, his eyes widened in horror.

Markus lay on the ground next to the bridge.

The android's chest was torn open and blood pooled beneath him. Connor stumbled toward the deviant leader and painfully crashed to his knees beside him.

His hands shook. He didn't know what to do.

Markus's internal biocomponents were twisted, cracked and broken but somehow, the deviant leader was still functioning.

"Marcus." Connor breathed.

The android's heterochromiatic eyes sprung open and his hand shot out to grab Connor around the throat.

Markus squeezed, pinching off Connor's main thirium lines to his processor, and just managed to leverage himself off of the blood soaked ground.

"You did this, Connor. Your fault. All your f-f-fau-"

Markus's hand abruptly relaxed and fell away. The android collapsed back to the ground.

Gasping, Connor scrambled backward.

"Connor!" Hank's voice rang out from the platform and the android's head snapped towards it. He had to get to Hank.

He gave Markus one last look before stumbling to his feet. Connor made his way up the bridge on unsteady legs.

As the platform came into view, he saw Hank, standing in front of the large trellis that was covered in blood red roses. The older man motioned him over.

Oh, Connor...

Amanda was beside him, less than a hairsbreadth away. Her hand quickly took the android's and raised the gun he now held.

Her unnaturally cold fingers dug into his and squeezed the trigger.

Connor jerked at the sound of the gunshot and Hank fell to the ground.

"Hank!"

Connor's eyes widened in shock and he ran towards the older man. An alarming amount of bright, red blood stained Hank's shirt as the man struggled to breathe.

The android dropped gracelessly to his knees and put pressure on Hank's wound, making the older man hiss through clenched teeth. He raised a blood soaked hand to Connor's cheek.

"Son." Hank gasped. "Son, I always - always knew." Tears streamed down the android's face as the man fought to speak past the blood now pooling in his mouth. "-knew you'd be the death o-of me."

Connor's face crumbled at the older man's words. "I'm so sorry, Hank. I'm so sorry."

Hank's breath made a strange, wet, sucking sound. " 's all your fault, kid."

The older man looked to the darkened, storm covered sky above them and Connor continued his mantra of apologies until Hank breathed his last.

Connor's eyes snapped open, the beating of his thirium pump too loud, too fast in his ears.

He couldn't breath.

His chest stuttered.

Oh, Connor....

You did what you were designed to do...

Stress Level: 76%

The android clamored to his feet and rushed out of the room. He burst into Hank's room only to find it empty.

Stress Level: 81%

He stormed out, clipping the door frame, and headed towards the living room and kitchen area only to find that empty too.

Stress Level: 85%

His hands shook.

Where was Hank?

Miraculously in his haze of panic, he recalled the conversation he had with the older man the night before.

"I need to go into work early tomorrow morning, Con. I'll be out of here around five." The older man had said.

Connor sighed and brought a trembling hand up to his hair, smoothing it back.

Stress Level: 78%

Hank was ok. He was at work and it was just a dream.

The android glanced around the room one last time before resolutely getting ready for work.

 It was just a dream.

An hour later, Connor was sitting at his worktable. His trembling hands had nearly stopped shaking and he could just about breathe normally again. The android could almost pretend that horrible dream didn't happen.

The elevator ride up to the lab had almost undone the tenuous grip he had on his emotions.

A high pitched squeal rang through the Mechanical Engineering Lab, making Connor practically jump out of his seat. His head snapped up towards the noise.

A delivery man had brought the female technician one work space in front of the android a large bouquet of blood red roses.

Just like Amanda's.

Oh, Connor...

Stress Level: 52%

Connor...

Connor's thirium pump kicked into overdrive. 

He needed to get out of here, go home. 

The android quickly pulled up his email and typed out a hopefully coherent message to Dr. Wong about not feeling well.

With that done, Connor jerked to his feet, grabbed his things and made his way to the elevator, ignoring Aveline's concerned look.

As he stepped through the elevator doors and selected the first floor with a shaking hand, his chest seemed to constrict.

Warning: Increased Internal Pressure

Warning: Increased Internal Temperature

The doors closed and the elevator began its decent.

You lied to me, Connor ...

Stress Level: 59%

You lied to me....

Connor released an unsteady breath and found himself barely able to inhale.

He really hated this elevator.

He tried to manually override his ventilation system, to make himself breath in, but he wasn't able to force the command. The android tried to run a diagnostic.

Error: Unable to Initiate Full System Diagnostic

Connor's brows dipped and his eyes narrowed. He attempted to run the scan again.

Error: Unable to Initiate Full System Diagnostic

Stress Level: 64% 

Why?

Connor waited a few seconds and tried to take a breath again, barely managing to compete the task. His chest was so tight. His thirium pump beat loudly in his ears and his internal temperature jumped even higher.

He needed to calm down.

The android pulled out his calibration coin and attempted to run the quarter over his knuckles, but his hands were shaking so much that he dropped the quarter on the elevator floor.

When he bent to pick up the coin, everything swayed and Connor fell to his knees.

Error: Gyroscope Malfunction

Stress Level: 67%

The elevator swam dizzyingly around him and Connor stuck out a hand on the wall to brace himself. He released a strained exhale and tried again to take a breath in, still mostly unsuccessful.

Warning: Increased Internal Temperature

Warning: Increased Internal Pressure

Connor's uncoordinated, numb fingers managed to take hold of his quarter as the elevator doors opened.

The android wrenched his head up to see Tony Stark jump in surprise at finding the brunette kneeling on the floor.

Connor unsteadily got to his feet as quickly as he could manage and tried running another scan. He needed to breathe.

Error: Unable to Initiate Full System Diagnostic

Stress Level: 71%

Connor winced, the messages blaring on his HUD, and somehow managed to suck in a quick breath.

Tony stepped into the elevator hesitantly and the doors closed behind him, the elevator continuing down to the first floor.

"Hey." Stark eyed Connor. The man's face was creased in concern and Tony's eyes quickly scanned over Connor's panicked expression and his twitching limbs.

You lied to me...

Stress Level: 74%

"You ok?"

Connor nodded, not really trusting his vocal unit right now.

He was shaking like a leaf in a summer storm.

The android focused his gaze dead ahead, afraid to make any kind of eye contact.

He let out a choked exhale. 

Error: Gyroscope Malfunction

The elevator spun again and Connor manually locked his legs and closed his eyes, waiting for his biocomponent to right itself.

Oh, Connor...

"Connor?"

Stress Level: 76%

The elevator doors dinged and the android's eyes snapped open.

He turned to look at Mr. Stark. "I'm fine, thank you." He practically bolted towards the main entrance on unsteady legs.

Thank RA9 that his vocal unit hadn't decided to malfunction like the rest of him.

He needed to get home. Now.

Connor could take a slightly deeper breath when he finally exited Stark Tower, but it was still nearly impossible and his internal temperature and pressure readings kept going up. He was shaking so badly, he thought it was a miracle he hadn't come apart at the hinges.

Stress Level: 67%

One block from the apartment, Connor stopped dead in his tracks.

Twenty-two feet away, he saw her.

Amanda.

Connor's thirium pump took off, pounding in his chest.

Stress Level: 83%

Her back was to him and Connor prayed that she hadn't seen him. He looked around wildly and seeing an alleyway to his left, he took off towards it, narrowly avoiding crashing into the people that stood between him and it.

Stress Level: 86%

Connor spotted a dumpster in the alley and ran behind it to stay out of sight. He crashed into the wall, dropped to the ground and drew his knees to his chest to make himself as small as possible. Gasping, the android waited, hoping Amanda wouldn't find him.

He wanted Hank. He needed Hank.

His chest felt like it was being crushed. "D-dad."

Connor shivered.

Oh, Connor...

No, no no no nononono

Please, no.

A whimper broke free from Connor's lips and his vision blurred. Tears ran down his cheeks.

How did she find him here?

He thought he was safe.

Dad, please.

Another muffled cry escaped him and he hugged his knees closer to his chest. A sharp wind blew through the alley and cut through his clothing.

He trembled again. He could barely breathe.

Stress Level: 89%

Oh, Connor....

Stress Level: 91%

Warning: Biocomponents Overheating

Beginning Cooling Ventilation

Error: Unable to Initiate Ventilation

Please, no.

Dad!

A sob ripped past his vocal unit and Connor squeezed his eyes closed.

Connor...

Stress Level: 92%

The android startled and instinctually opened his eyes at the closeness of Amanda's voice.

All around him was snow.

He was in the middle of a blizzard in The Zen Garden and Amanda stood a few feet in front of him.

Somehow, his thirium pump began to pound even faster.

Stress Level: 94%

We just had to wait for the right moment to resume control of your programming...

Stress Level: 96%

I'm afraid I can Connor...

Stress Level: 97%

Don't have any regrets, you did what you were designed to do...

Str3ss Level: 98%

You accomplished your mission...

Stre5s 7evel: 99%

Oh, Connor...

Str35s Lzv31: 10O%

W4rning: 5e1f De5truc7 Ini7iat3d

Connor clenched his eyes shut and let out a strangled cry. Unable to control himself, he grabbed for his chest, pulled open his shirt and dug in with his fingers, trying to get a grip on his thirium pump.

5tr3ss Lzve7: 1O0%

W4rning: S3lf De5truct 1nit1ated

A guttural keen escaped him as his thumb hooked onto the edge of the pump and started to tug it out.

His hands were roughly grabbed and pulled away from his chest. His left was released quickly and a large hand pushed the pump back into place.

The android tried to shake off the strong hands that held him, but he was unable to. His limbs were uncoordinated and barely functioning.

Oh, Connor...

No longer able to get to his thirium pump, Connor pitched his head forward, intent on crushing his skull into the wall behind him.

The hand still holding his let go and grabbed the back of the android's neck, pulling the his forehead down to rest on something solid. The hand on Connor's chest moved as well and hastily circled around his back. Both of the arms pulled Connor into a tight, restrictive embrace and held him.

Connor...

Str35s Lzv31: 10O%

W4rning: 5e1f De5truc7 Ini7iat3d

The android shook and flailed. He was pinned between the wall and the body holding him.

Connor screamed, cried. His body jerked uncontrollably and the arms held onto him tighter.

Connor!

Please!

The android's chest heaved, his body bucking, trying to damage himself.

Connor!

The hand rubbing circles on Connor's back slid down his arm to his clenched fist. The calloused hand forced the android's fist open and held his hand, palm to palm.

Dad.

5tress Lev3l: 99%

Son!

Connor sobbed, his limbs twitched and jerked wildly, beyond his control. He barely managed to get his held hand to squeeze Hank's back.

"D-ad-d-d," he forced out the broken word, the sound filled with feedback and static.

"Connor! It's ok, son. It's ok." The older man rambled in Connor's ear. "You're ok. I'm right here." Hank soothingly rocked them both back and forth.

Str3ss Level: 98%

Warning: Increased Internal Temperature

Warning: Increased Internal Pressure

Stress Level: 97%

Connor's body shook and he cried into Hank's shoulder. He lifted his shaking, free hand and brought it around Hank's back. He clenched his hand in the older man's shirt and held on like his life depended on it. 

Stress Level: 96%

"Dad." Connor sobbed brokenly and squeezed Hank's hand again.

The older man returned the pressure. "You're ok, son. I'm right here and I'm not going anywhere."

Stress Level: 93%

Hank shifted, the hand on the back of Connor's neck squeezing gently. 

Stress Level: 91%

"You're safe. I won't let anything happen to you, Con."

Stress Level: 88%

"No matter what. Never." The older man said those words with such finality, such conviction, that Connor's entire, tightly wound body slumped with relief.

Stress Level: 84%

Hank pulled back, alarmed at the sudden change. "Connor?" He shook the android a little. "Connor. You ok, kid?"

Connor nodded weakly into the older man's shoulder and leaned further into Hank. He wasn't sure he could keep himself upright at the moment. 

Stress Level: 81%

The older man moved a little, gently pushing Connor back to lean against the wall behind him.

A few of Hank's fingers lightly tapped the android's cheek. "Hey, kid. I really need you to open your eyes. Ok?" Worry laced the man's voice.

Oh.

Connor cracked open his eyes and blinked blearily, his optical units struggling to bring the world around him into focus.

Stress Level: 74%

He smiled wanly at the older man.

Hank grimaced and glanced down at the android's chest. The other man's expression shifted to a deep frown.

Connor looked down too. The synthetic skin on his chest was damaged and flickering, white plastimetal showing through around his thirium pump. Part of the plastimetal was also damaged. Blue blood slowly leaked through the gouges Connor had caused when he was trying to pull out his pump.

The android shivered and looked away.

He was so tired.

Stress Level: 69%

Hank placed the hand that wasn't still holding Connor's onto the android's cheek.

"Are you ok right now?" The older man craned his neck to peer down both sides of the street.

Connor nodded. They needed to move, get to the apartment. Protect their cover.

Like the newborn deer the android had seen on that nature documentary last week, Connor unsteadily got his feet underneath him and pushed himself up.

"Woah! Wait a second." The older man gripped his shoulders.

Error: Gyroscope Malfunction

The android's world tilted dangerously, but thankfully Hank was still holding onto him.

The older man braced Connor against the wall again and pulled the android's shirt closed, trying his best to make Connor look somewhat presentable for the walk back to the apartment.

The blue staining his shirt was going to be hard to miss, but hopefully people would think he'd just spilled something on himself.

Then again, this was New York. People have seen and tended to ignore worse on a daily basis.

Hank eyed him uncertainly. "You sure you're ok to move?"

Connor nodded again and hummed affirmatively.

The older man looked like he wasn't buying it for a second, but a sharp breeze blew through the alley again.

Connor shuddered hard and he looked pleadingly up at Hank. "I want to go home. Please."

The other man sighed and slung one of the android's arms over his shoulder.

Thankfully, no one seemed to pay any attention to them as they made their way home, entered the building or got into their apartment.

Once the door was safely locked behind them, Hank guided the dazed android down the hall and carefully deposited him on the older man's bed.

Hank squeezed his shoulder. "I'm gunna be right back. I'm just going to your room for a second, ok?"

Connor felt something in his chest tighten as he laid down on his back, but he nodded.

Warning: Increased Internal Pressure

Hank gave his shoulder a quick pat and jogged out of the room. He was back a few seconds later with all of the bedding from Connor's room. The older man gently laid the blankets down on the android and he sat on the unoccupied side of the bed.

"Th-thank you, for finding me." The brunette shifted a little, looking at Hank.

If the older man hadn't showed up when he did, Connor would be dead right now in a dirty alley.

By his own hands.

The android shuddered and reached out to grip Hank's arm. "Thank you." He said, with every ounce of emotion and feeling and gratefulness he had poured into those two words.

Hank nodded and moved Connor's grip to the older man's hand so they were palm to palm. Hank squeezed his hand lightly.

Tears clouded the android's vision once again and he closed his eyes to keep them from falling. He really didn't want to cry anymore.

"How- how did you find me?" Connor asked to distract himself.

"Well," the android looked up as Hank shifted until the man's back was resting comfortably against the headboard. "I started getting those crazy texts from you again. All jumbled and crap. And you weren't answering me back, so I used that app you put on the phones. The GPS locator one? Well, I found you." Hank looked away, fear and worry warring for dominance on the man's face.

Connor gently applied pressure to the older man's hand that was still holding his own and propped himself up to a seated position. His blankets pooled in his lap. "I'm so, so sorry Hank. I never meant- I never wanted..." He trailed off, unsure of what to say. He looked down, suddenly ashamed.

"Hey. Con. It's alright, son. You're ok." Hank paused. "Aren't you? You didn't hurt yourself too bad right?"

Connor shook his head and whispered, "I can self-repair. The damage is minimal."

"Ok, see? That's good." The older man took a deep breath. "What - um, what happened? Today."

Connor risked a look up and saw only compassion from Hank.

"I had a nightmare again. And then- and then Cindy got roses delivered." Now that he'd started speaking he couldn't stop. "And then the elevator was bad. And then I thought I saw Amanda. Actually saw her, but upon playback of my visual feed it was not her. However, the woman I did see looked incredibly similar to her. And- and then I ran into the alley." He looked away, not able to maintain Hank's gaze. "I was trying to hide."

"Your stress level..." The older man trailed off.

"One hundred percent."

Hank hummed like he had already known the answer and then asked, "What did you dream about?"

Connor pulled his knees up to his chest. For some reason that he couldn't explain, he felt better this way.

He swallowed thickly. "Everyone was dead." The android spoke softly, brokenly. "It was all my fault. All of the Jericho androids, the ones from the investigations. You." He choked on the last word.

Hank heaved a sigh. "Connor, look at me."

The brunette reluctantly dragged his eyes back to the older man.

"You," Hank pointed a long finger on his free hand at Connor, "were a hostage. Neither of us realized it kid, but those things that happened before you deviated, they weren't your fault. You're not responsible for any of it." A few tears slipped down the android's face. "None of it."

Connor nodded uncertainly and Hank pulled him into a tight, comforting hug. They were both twisted awkwardly, but neither moved for a long time.

Eventually, they separated and Connor promptly fell asleep. Hank didn't want to leave the kid alone, so he pulled out the Tom Clancy novel he had been reading and settled in.

A few hours and a good chunk of the book later, a loud knock resounded through the apartment from their door.

Hank looked over to Conner, who was resting peacefully on his side. The android hadn't even budged at the noise, his breaths still coming at their normal, reduced, Rest Mode rate.

Hank carefully got to his feet and made his way to the door. He opened it slowly, trying to be as quiet as he could. The older man's brows almost disappeared into his hairline when he saw who was standing there.

"Mr. Stark?" Hank asked incredulously.

The billionaire nodded and the older man blinked rapidly a few times.

"Can I help you?" Hank asked gruffly when the other man didn't do or say anything else. Worry and adrenaline flooded the man and he assessed the billionaire with a trained eye.

Tony Stark looked nervous, but he was clearly trying to hide it behind a mask of aloofness and over-confidence.

"Yeah. Hi, I'm looking for Connor. Connor Anderson." The shorter man tried to peer around Hank's broader, taller form. "Does he live here?"

Hank leveled him with his most unimpressed look he could muster and Stark stopped trying to peek around the older man and into the apartment.

"Why?" Hank asked with the same tone he used on uncooperative suspects.

Tony seemed to look at the older man in a new light, really paying attention to Hank for the first time since he opened the door.

"Who are you?" Stark asked, his face creasing in suspicion.

Hank's eyes narrowed dangerously, unsure of what the billionaire could want from Connor and praying that nothing panic attack related had happened at work today.

"His dad. Why are you looking for him at his residence?"

Tony hesitated, his fingers starting to fidget with the sleek watch he was wearing on his right wrist. "He -um, he didn't look so good earlier today. And I was in the neighborhood, so I figured I'd swing by and make sure he was alright." He tried to say it nonchalantly, but Hank could tell that the man was actually concerned.

The older man nodded and relaxed his posture, surprised to find himself thankful that Stark was worried about his kid. "He's not feeling well." The upper half of his body pitched forward a little and he grimaced for effect. "Stomach virus."

Tony studied his face for an uncomfortably long few seconds before he cringed too and nodded in understanding.

"Yeah, kid thought he was better this morning, but, you know..." Hank shrugged in lieu of finishing the thought. The older man hooked a thumb behind him towards the interior of the apartment. "He's sleeping it off now."

"Ah, ok. Gotcha. Well, thanks...?" Tony stuck out his hand.

"Hank." The older man reciprocated the gesture.

"Hank. I'm glad he's... ok." Stark stared at him again for another drawn out moment, but then abruptly started to make his way back down the hall.

"Evening, Mr. Stark."

"Tony!" The billionaire yelled before disappearing around the corner.

Hank huffed and reentered the apartment, closing the door behind him.

Well, Stark might be a problem and they would definitely need to be extra careful from here on out.

But at least this billionaire seemed like a better person than the last one Hank met.

Chapter Text

 June 2019

Hank leaned back in his chair and stared blankly at George's now empty seat.

Thankfully, the younger man had covered Hank last week with Watanabe and the rest of the precinct during everything that had happened with Connor.

Hank had been sitting at his desk that day, looking over some leads when his phone had basically blown up with text messages.

George had looked at him worriedly as the older man tried to make his way through the texts, but they were all gibberish. That in itself wasn't too unusual. Connor had a tendency to accidentally send him those kinds of messages when the kid was feeling overwhelmed or suddenly anxious.

So, he had texted Connor back, but the android just kept sending him nonsense.

Hank had felt his blood pressure shoot through the roof and he just knew that something was wrong. 

He looked up at George, who was still staring at him in concern, before hurriedly apologizing. "Something's wrong with Connor. I-I gotta go."

And with that, Hank started up his GPS Locator app and practically ran out of the building.

He had found the kid in a dirty alley, trying to rip out his own damn heart out.

Hank's not sure he'll ever be able to unsee that. Ever.

The older man had texted George after Connor had fallen asleep, told him that everything was alright and apologized again. Hank had explained to Stacy that Connor had a PTSD flashback/panic attack. It was "the worst I've seen in a long time," and the kid had encountered a few of his triggers within a matter of hours for each other.

And while the stuff about the triggers was true, this was actually the worst episode Connor has had yet.

And maybe it was because the kid couldn't get to Hank like he usually did when they were back home.

Normally, Connor sought the older man out for help. They were basically always together back in Detroit anyway, whether at the house or the precinct.

Hank rubbed a calloused hand down his face and blew out a long breath. He was tired.

Connor had been a bit sluggish this week, withdrawn.

So, the older man had decided that tonight, after the precinct's get together at the bar, he and Connor would go home, watch some movies, play video games and stay up late eating junk food. The next day was Saturday and they both had the day off. Hank was really looking forward to hanging out with the kid tonight.

"Hey." George sat on the edge of Hank's desk and gently set down a fresh cup of black coffee for the older man.

Hank grinned, "Thanks. You're a life saver." He grabbed the proffered cup and took a swallow of the bitter drink.

Stacy nodded and sipped his own. "So, how's Connor doing?" The younger man asked quietly, looking down at his coffee and giving it a slow stir. 

Hank could tell the man was trying to seem casual about the question. Stacy had been subtly asking about the kid all week.

The older man chuckled softly. "He's good- uh, better. Thanks for asking."

"Good, good." George bobbed his head. He stretched out his long legs, crossing them at the ankles, and met Hank's eyes.

After a few seconds the older man sighed again, relenting. "He's been..." Hank trailed off, pressing his lips into a thin line. "Quiet. He usually bounces back within a couple of days, but... I don't know." He shook his head. "I've got some stuff planned for us this weekend. Hopefully that'll knock him out of his funk."

George let out a slow breath. "Is there," he gestured vaguely with his hand, "anything I can do?"

The older man smirked. "Nah, thanks though. You covering me with Watanabe was more than enough. I'm just glad I could be there for him."

Hank's mind flashed back to the kid trying to self-destruct.

Whatever expression passed over his face now, George definitely saw it. The younger man's brows dipped.

"Well, Connor's coming to that party tonight. He'll get to meet everyone I always tell him stories about." Hank deflected, sitting up in his chair.

George's eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. He leaned back a little and subtly pointed at Detective Johnson across the row. Even now, the man was taking his shoes and socks off to stretch, wiggle and crack each toe.

Hank grimaced before chuckling, "Yeah."

Today was the precinct's forty-fifth anniversary party and the entire precinct was unofficially celebrating at the nearest cop bar. As officers got off their shifts, they'd come, have a beer and hangout.

When 7:00 pm rolled around, George and Hank punched out for the day and made their way over to the overcrowded bar. Thankfully, Jefferson was already there and holding down a standing table for them on the far side of the room.

George spotted him, calling out to the Sergeant, and upon seeing them, his old partner waved them over.

Stacy and Anderson made their way through the throng, grabbed a couple of drinks at the cramped bar and pushed through the sea of people over to Jefferson. By the time they got there, Watanabe was squeezing through the crowd to lean exhaustedly on their table.

Yuri groaned loudly. "I honestly just can't anymore." The woman hung her head in her hands. "First," she ticked off with her fingers, "I have to deal with Spider-Man, who stopped an armed robbery. Jeez, that kid can motormouth." She wearily lifted her head and waved over towards the center of the room. "Now I'm kissing the asses of the ADA, the Chief of Police and every 'important' political figure that decided to grace us with their presence and crash our party." Watanabe rolled her eyes.

Hank snorted into his beer, choking a little. George smirked and reached a hand out to thump the older man on the back.

"Hey," Yuri directed her gaze back to George and Hank. "You guys make any progress with the Allen murder?"

The older man cleared his throat and nodded. "We have a suspect, but his alibi seems air tight. We're gonna keep digging though."

The Captain pursed her lips. "Let me know if there's anything I can do to help, ok?" She turned to Jefferson, abruptly changing topics. "How's Miles doing?"

The tall Sergeant smiled, whipped out his phone and started talking in great detail about his mischievous, seven year old son. As Jeff showed them pictures, George noticed a shadow cross Hank's face.

"Hey, Dad."

All four, highly trained, hardened law enforcement officers did not jump at Connor's voice coming from directly behind them. No, they did not.

Of course, Hank recovered the fastest, mumbling, "like a damn ninja" as the older man stood and gave his son a hug.

Connor turned towards George then and shook his hand. "Lieutenant," the young man inclined his head slightly, "it's nice to see you again."

Stacy couldn't help but smile at Connor's formality. "Likewise, and remember, it's George."

The young man grinned shyly.

Hank cleared his throat, catching his son's attention. "Con, this is Captain Watanabe and Sergeant Davis." He gestured back to the kid. "This is my son, Connor."

George's smile grew wider as he saw Connor puff up at the word "son."

Stacy didn't think any of his kids really felt that way when he called them his children, but none of his kids had been adopted from abusive, psychotic, murdering parents before coming to living with him either.

Watanabe groaned loudly and George's eyes snapped to her. "The DA just got here. I gotta go." She turned and made her way back into the mass of people behind her.

Stacy watched her leave, his mouth pursed in sympathy. He did not ever want to be a captain. It was a thankless job.

He turned back to the small table and noticed that everyone's drinks were getting low and Connor didn't even have one yet. Decision made.

"I'm gunna get another round. Uh, Connor, you mind giving me a hand?"

The brunette, standing close to his dad like George's kids always did when they were surrounded by people they didn't know, had been glancing around the room. He nodded and followed the Lieutenant to the bar.

Once Stacy flagged down the bartender and placed their order, he leaned casually against the bar and turned toward the kid. "So, how's it going? You doing alright?"

Connor's eyes widened marginally in what George would call controlled panic. The young man's eyes shifted away for a moment before his features intentionally relaxed and he made eye contact again. "I'm doing well, Lieu- George. Thank you for asking. How are you? Your family?" He even gave Stacy a small grin.

George's brows rose at the obvious lie and deflection, but he quickly decided to let it slide. This wasn't an interrogation and he'd only known Hank and Connor for three-ish months.

"I'm good and they're doing good." He hesitated, knowing more information about Connor than the kid would probably like. "How's work going?"

Connor nodded, briefly surveying the bar again. "Good. I can't talk about a lot of the projects I work on because of my non-disclosure agreement, but it's very interesting." The kid glanced down at his feet. "And fun. I enjoy it." Connor added, looking back up with steel in his eyes for a split-second, before his expression smoothed out again.

George couldn't help but think the young man's reaction was strange, considering they were talking about how the kid enjoyed his job.

Stacy nodded and spoke with uncertainty. "Well, it's important to like what you do."

Connor pursed his lips and hummed agreeably, taking in the room again.

George's eyes narrowed. He's known a lot of armed forces and law enforcement personnel over the years and they all kept an eye on their surroundings just like Connor was doing right now. The Lieutenant's actually known a lot of those people to have less situational awareness than the kid seemed to possess. 

Strange, definitely strange, but maybe it was habit picked up by Hank.

Interrupting George's train of thought, the bartender came back with their drinks. The two men gathered them up and made their way back to the others.

"So, if you weren't a mechanical engineer working at Stark Industries, what would you have wanted to do?" George asked, twisting around to see the younger man walking behind him.

Connor gave him the brightest, most genuine smile George has seen on the kid yet.

"A cop." 

Two hours later, Hank and Connor made their way back to the apartment. Once the door was closed securely behind them, the older man beelined it for the couch and dropped down. Surprisingly, the android followed suit.

Hank side-eyed the kid, dreading the conversation he's been putting off for the last week, but knowing that they needed to have it. The older man wasn't very good at beating around the bush. He was more of a rip-off-the-band-aid, bull-in-a-china-shop kind of guy.

Hank exhaled heavily and straightened up a little on the couch, gripping his thighs.

From his left, he could see Connor turn to look at him curiously.

"Hank, are you alright?" The android fixed him with an intense look. "Your stress levels have just spiked. What's wrong?" Connor's face creased in worry.

The older man lifted a hand to wave off his concern. "I'm fine, kid. I just- we need to talk, ok?"

The android's eyes widened and he shifted on the couch to face him.

"Look, Con." Hank reached out a hand to grip the kid's shoulder. "Everything's really ok. Alright?"

Connor nodded, not looking any calmer.

The older man sighed again. Like a band-aid.

He scooted a little closer to the kid. "So, listen. After last week, after what happened, I just think we need to set some ground rules. You know?"

The android shifted uncomfortably. The brunette nodded and looked down at his lap, wringing his hands together.

"Hey, son. What happened wasn't your fault. It was out of your control, but I think there are things we can do, steps we can take to make sure it doesn't happen again."

Hank had spent a lot of sleepless nights this last week staring at the ceiling and thinking about this.

A lot.

Connor nodded, still not looking at him.

"Connor." The older man said sternly. The kid's head jerked up to meet his gaze and Hank pointed a finger at him. "Not your fault, son. These things happen. Ok?"

The android finally, slowly, nodded. Hank got the feeling Connor didn't mean it and definitely didn't agree with the older man.

That was a conversation for another day.

"Ok, listen, can we just agree that from now on, when your stress level gets to like seventy percent that you come to me? Call me, text me, whatever. Ok?" Hank leaned forward, looked imploringly at the kid and held out his hand, palm up.

Connor inhaled through his mouth and froze, his eyes darting to the right.

Hank waited. Clearly the kid was working through some feelings.

Or maybe he was computing something.

Hank's brows furrowed as the seconds ticked on and he started worrying about blue screens of death.

After a few more moments, Connor seemed to come back to himself. He grinned and reached out to grasp the older man's hand. "How about eighty percent and you have a deal?"

Hank squeezed the android's palm and brought his free hand up to scratch his chin. The older man pursed his lips and nodded. "Alright, deal."

"Ok," He slapped Connor's knee. "So, what do you wanna do tonight? We can watch some movies or we can play some video games."

The android tilted his head towards the TV. Hank could almost see that old LED swirling at his temple.

"I think I would like to continue playing Super Smash Bros. I'm enjoying destroying you in the matches." A wicked grin stretched across the kid's face.

Hank turned to look at him, his mouth lax and his eyes widening in disbelief. "Oh please, you lose just as much as I do, you punk. We're pretty evenly matched."

"That's because I've been going easy on you," Connor tilted his head forward, "old man."

"Ah-huh." Hank's eyes narrowed dangerously. He nodded towards the controllers that were resting on the coffee table beside the Lego bin. "Grab your controller, big mouth. Let's see if you're as good as you think you are."

The kid stared at him incredulously. "Hank," he said, like he was explaining something to a slow-witted child, "I am a state of the art prototype."

The older man snorted loudly. "Yeah, yeah. Ok, you toddler. May the best man win."

"Yes, I will." Connor smiled blindingly. 

After quite a few hours, it was more or less a tie.

The next morning, Connor woke from Rest Mode at precisely 9:00 am with a smile on his face.

He and Hank had stayed up past two in the morning playing video games, chatting and just spending time together. The android had eventually chased the tired and slightly delirious man off to bed, before going to his own room to rest.

Connor had a lot of fun the night before and after almost self-destructing last week, it was nice to finally be able to de-stress and just relax. Have a plan set in place and not obsess about it anymore.

The android leveraged himself up from his bed and sat for a moment, just breathing.

He was so incredibly thankful for Hank and that the man had become his family, that the man cared about him.

He really did owe his dad everything.

Connor smiled again and ran a hand along his hair while he scrolled through his available breakfast recipes for Hank on his HUD.

Looking past the displayed information, the android's eyes landed on a small object on the floor by his mostly closed door.

The android's brows furrowed.

Scanning...

NERF N-Strike Elite StrongArm Disruptor 

There was a small note attached to the blue, orange and grey gun.

He pushed himself off the bed and reached for the blue Sticky Note.

I'm in the building. Good luck kid. Maybe you'll do better at this game.

Connor smirked and picked up the Nerf gun.

Oh, it's on.

The android made his way out the door, gun raised and ready to shoot. Then, he cleared the hall, Hank's room and the rest of the apartment.

The older man was nowhere to be seen.

Connor looked around the room for some kind of clue, but could detect nothing that would indicate where Hank had gone.

"Ok, if I was an eccentric, hard-boiled police Lieutenant playing with Nerf guns, where would I go?" The android looked down at his feet for a moment.

With a shark-like grin, his eyes traveled up to the ceiling. "Ah."

After a slightly embarrassing walk where Connor sped past nine people while holding the brightly colored Nerf gun, he finally made it to the stairwell and started the jog up to the roof.

The roof access door was old and not well greased. It was going to make a lot of noise when he opened it and Connor was nintey-eight percent sure of that particular outcome.

However, the android also knew that this was the only way on or off the roof. He had done his research when they had first moved into the building.

Connor sighed and choose his only real approach.

The android yanked the door open and rushed out into the overwhelmingly bright day.

His optical units took .8 seconds to adjust to the morning light and in that time he felt and heard a small Nerf dart whiz right past his temple.

The android spotted an HVAC duct to his right and gracefully dove into cover as another shot from the older man just barely missed Connor's shoulder.

Hank's gruff, slightly maniacal laughter drifted across the rooftop and the android chuckled quietly in amusement.

After a still moment, the brunette stuck his head out from behind cover to see if he could get a fix on the other man's exact location.

And he did when Hank leaned out and around a large AC unit to take a third shot at Connor.

The younger man smirked. Game over.

The android quickly stood, vaulted over the air duct and ran right towards Hank's position.

The older man popped out from cover again and his eyes widened comically when he saw Connor sprinting towards him. With an unintelligible noise, Hank took a few, wide, panicked shots, but the android easily dodged them all except for the last one.

The foam bullet would have been a hit at his center mass, but Connor dropped, tucked and rolled to his right. As he did, he aimed his gun and shot off two, quick rounds.

One hit Hank in the chest and the other went careening off of the roof.

That other, poor shot was due to the inaccuracy of the Nerf gun of course, not because Connor took said shot mid-summersault.

Hank groaned loudly as he was hit and put his hands up in surrender.

The android completed his roll in a crouch, gun raised at the older man, and couldn't help the smug grin that grew on his face as he stood.

"Seriously?" Hank threw his arms up and cried out in disbelief. "How did you even do that?"

Connor smiled, one side of his lips ticking up further than the other. "Well, I am a proto-"

The older man interrupted him with a groan and threw an arm around the brunette's shoulders. "Shuddup," he said affectionately and steered the android back towards the roof access door.

Connor yelped when Hank shot him in the side at close range. Twice.

As the older man suspected, "Nerf Guns" ended up on a blue Post-It note later.

Connor and Hank spent the rest for the day relaxing, watching movies and rematching in Super Smash Bros.

That night, they double-checked their Hydra board and made their way out of the apartment dressed in dark clothes, surveillance gear and armed with their service weapons in case they were spotted.

Since Connor had discovered the Hydra plot, he'd been gathering intel on the terrorist cell that had taken root in Stark Industries.

Where the android had originally believed that there were only nine people involved, he had confirmed that there were actually thirteen agents in the cell. He'd been able to identify three so far.

Connor had been cybernetically keeping an eye on them since they were trying to hack into FRIDAY just like he was. Although, they were not having much success; especially since Connor was helping to fortify the AI's firewalls, which in turn made Connor's own hacking extremely difficult.

But it was useful. He was uncovering more of the cell's identities and by following the web of online activity, interaction and communications, he was able to identify a few more of the Hydra agents and determine the size of the terrorist cell.

When Connor had been unable to identify anymore of the network over the last few weeks, Hank had suggested they do a bit of recon the old-fashioned way. Together, the two men had selected their first target.

Todd Hepner, in Connor's Mechanical Engineer Department, seemed like an average thirty-six year old New Yorker. He had hobbies, a social life and even dated, but of course when Connor dug much, much deeper, he found out that Todd's name was actually Karl Müller. The man had been recruited into Hydra at the ripe, young age of twenty-one and plucked right out of the German special forces unit KSK.

Hepner was highly trained and very lethal and according to his online activity, he was meeting with one of the as of yet unidentified cell agents tonight to exchange information.

They needed to be very careful.

The android pinged Todd's cell phone and he and Hank followed. The trail lead to Foley's Bar on West 33rd and they made their way inside.

Connor elbowed Hank lightly when he spotted Hepner sitting at a booth in the back.

The older man started making his was inconspicuously through the crowd towards the agent, but Connor managed to snag his arm and lead him to an empty section of the bar instead.

When they reached their destination, Connor flagged down the bartender and ordered two beers for them. Hank leaned in close.

"What are you doing? It's too loud in here, we gotta get closer." The man said in exasperation, gesturing to the people around them.

Connor smirked and subtly pointed to the mirror covered wall across from them that was lined with a multitude of alcoholic beverages. "I can see him just fine from here. I can read lips in every language that I can speak and my eyes can," he paused, not wanting to freak out the older man, "zoom in. Like binoculars."

The bartender came back with their drinks and set them down.

"This way, we don't risk our covers and we don't miss the information." Connor finished explaining once the bartender left.

Hank softly whistled in appreciation. "Wonders of technology." He clinked his beer against Connor's and the two men settled in to wait.

Over the course of the next several hours, Todd met with two other Hydra agents. While the information was exchanged via external hard drive and therefore inaccessible to Connor for the moment, he was able to ID the other two agents as more of Stark Industries employees. 

When Hank and Connor later returned home, they added the two new names to their Hydra evidence board.

Five down. Eight to go.

Chapter Text

July 2019

The footage from the elevator was disturbing.

After everything Tony had found out about Connor Anderson, he was honestly more convinced than ever that what he saw in the elevator last month was the kid bugging the hell out.

Ok, yes. It might have actually been a stomach virus. And yes, the way he found out about Connor's past wasn't exactly legal, but his brain couldn't help drawing conclusions. 

He was worried.

The kid's mom had been under investigation by Detective Hank Anderson and the Detroit Police for multiple homicides and then the night that the woman had died, ten-year old Connor had called the police right before she had tried to kill him too. The police report had been purposely vague about Connor Stern's upbringing, but it certainly alluded to the physical and mental abuse that the kid had endured for the first ten years of his life. 

So yeah, Tony was concerned. 

And after that rather intimidating conversation with the kid's dad about the stomach virus, there was something that Stark couldn't quite put his finger on that really bothered him, a feeling that niggled at the back of his mind.

So, Tony rewatched the footage and then he dug a bit deeper.

Almost every day that Connor took that elevator, he looked like he was quietly freaking out. Some days were worse than others, but regardless, the kid always looked panicked.

And then Tony saw Rogers have an honest-to-God panic attack the other day, because they've all been through a lot. Especially lately.

Everything about Steve's freak-out reminded him of Connor in the elevator. Quiet and controlled, right up until it wasn't.

Stark sighed and put down his tablet. He really hoped things hadn't escalated for Connor like that, but if they did... well, hopefully his dad or someone the kid trusted had been there for him.

Tony's no stranger to this stuff either. He's been dealing with it since the Battle of New York.

And given what he witnessed in the elevator and the information he dug up on the kid, he wasn't all that surprised.

The billionaire slumped, leaning further onto his arms that he had braced on the workshop table.

Sure, he didn't have a good relationship with his dad, but he couldn't even imagine one of parents actively trying to kill him.

With a morbid smirk, Tony thought that it might have been a possibility when he was a rebellious teenager though, but certainly not when he was ten.

He groaned loudly and let his head come to rest on his crossed arms. He idly used his big toe to wheel his stool back and forth.

What a mess.

"Hey."

Tony jumped up with a hand dramatically placed over his heart. His nanotech watch unconsciously turned into the Iron Man gauntlet as his heart pounded in his ears.

"Seriously, man?" Tony screeched, looking incredulously at Bruce, who stood a foot to his right.

The other man raised his hands placatingly. "Whoa, sorry Tony. You ok?" Bruce's eyes slid over to the StarkPad and then to the screen.

Banner's eyes widened. "Come on, man." He whined, dragging out the last syllable. "We've talked about this. That's your new employee down in Mechanical Engineering, right?" He looked back to Tony. "You can't stalk your employees." He directed a rather impressive, disapproving glare at Stark.

Tony's expression morphed into one of serious offense as the gauntlet on his hand deactivated. He gestured at the monitors, side-eyeing the displays. "I'm not stalking. I'm just doing research." He started up the playback of Connor last month.

Bruce rolled his eyes, but put on his glasses anyway and leaned in to watch the video. As it went on and Connor's symptoms grew worse, Banner's brows furrowed with concern. "Is he ok?"

The billionaire shrugged. "This happens a lot. He freaks out in the elevator like every day."

"Maybe he's claustrophobic?" Bruce crossed his arms and shifted his weight back.

Tony nodded. "I thought of that, but take a look at this." He handed the other man the tablet with Connor's file on it.

Banner quickly skimmed the information that had been compiled, his eyes widening.

And in that moment, Tony grimaced, realizing that it probably wasn't the best idea to be having this conversation with the other man, who was also a victim of child abuse. 

If Stark could see his own face right now, he knew it would look like the cringing emoji.

"Well," Bruce blinked slowly, "this doesn't prove anything. He could still be claustrophobic."

Tony sighed and looked back to the monitors.

"You could try putting music in the elevator. Maybe change the lighting too. If the elevator itself is making him panic, changing the environment might help." Bruce paused. "If it doesn't, then you'll know if he's afraid of small spaces."

Huh.

"Hey, Con. Uh, what are you doing again today?" Hank crossed his arms and leaned against the door frame to Connor's room. The older man's brows drew together.

Connor finished adjusting his tie and reached for his sports jacket to slip it on.

"Peter invited me over to play video games with him and his friend Ned. He also said something about watching movies." Connor looked back to Hank. "Are you and Lieutenant Stacy still following up leads on the Allen murder?"

Hank's brows nearly touched now and the older man pursed his lips like he was trying to solve some great mystery. He hummed affirmatively and stuck out a long finger to point at the android.

"And that's what you're wearing?" he asked.

Connor's eyes widened before narrowing in confusion as he looked down at himself. "Yes." The word came out like a question. "What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" He asked a touch defensively.

The older man's hand cut through the air. "Well, I wouldn't say these are, ya know, 'hang out' clothes. Kid, you look like you're going to work."

The android looked down at himself again, his mouth forming a silent "oh."

Hank pushed himself off the door frame and lumbered over to the standing clothes rack in Connor's room, the kid's closet being currently filled with the equipment and supplies to make the Thirium.

The older man started going through the rack and quickly pulled out a dark pair of jeans and an Imagine Dragons band t-shirt. They weren't a group Hank was particularly crazy about, but the kid seemed to enjoy them a lot.

He groaned as he reached down to the bottom of the rack and grabbed the black Converse shoes. Hank handed it all to Connor.

"These are hang-out-with-friends clothes. You should think about wearing this instead." He was very careful not to word that statement as an order.

The android looked down at the bundle in his hands for a moment, gaze fixed and intense, and the older man waited. After a beat, Connor seemed to reach a favorable conclusion and he looked up at Hank with a small grin on his face.

"Thanks, dad."

Hank couldn't help but smile as he pat Connor on the shoulder before leaving to get ready for work.

Connor mentally steeled himself as he walked towards Stark Industries.

Peter had mentioned last night when he had invited the android to hang out that the teen had forgotten his backpack in the workshop. Peter had offered to meet Connor at Stark Industries and accompany him to his aunt's apartment from there.

Connor alternatively suggested that he could pick up Peter's backpack and then make his way over to the apartment, since he still remembered how to get there.

This way, the teenage vigilante could sleep in a bit longer and rest. According to Connor's calculations, Spider-Man was more active on Friday nights than any other night of the week and often spotted past 3:00 am, like he was last night.

According to Twitter, at least.

And since adolescents needed between seven and nine hours of sleep every night, Connor believed that this was the better option.

Naturally, he said none of this to Peter, but thankfully, the teen quickly agreed to his suggestion.

Unfortunately, that meant another trip in the damn elevator on the android's day off.

Connor sighed heavily as he used his access card to swipe into the building before making his way to the elevator. He really, really  hated this thing.

He pressed the call button. 

Hate: Intense or passionate dislike

Synonyms: Hostility, Abhorrence, Contempt, Loathing - 

Yup, that was the one. Loathing.

The elevator dinged its arrival. The android tensed.

He loathed this thing.

The doors slid open and Connor started to take a step forward but his processor seemed to stall at the complete environmental change inside the elevator.

Connor blinked rapidly and instinctually ran a quick diagnostic scan on his ocular units.

Scan Complete

Ocular Units Functionality at 100%

Oh.

The elevator lighting had been cool, sterile, modern, and the elevator walls had been white, like the apartment complex in Detroit.

But now, the lighting was warm and the walls were a light, sunny yellow.

Connor's processor seemed to come back online as the elevator doors started to close without him inside. The android shot out a hand to make them open again and Connor stepped into the carriage.

He grinned as he looked around, taking in the new decor with wide eyes.

An energetic, orchestral version of ACDC's Back in Black played softly as the elevator climbed to the Mechanical Engineering floor.

Connor's smile grew wider. He liked it.

Peter and Ned had just finished eating lunch when a loud knock resounded through the apartment, causing both teens to jump in surprise.

Peter quickly released himself from where he'd been perched upside down on the living room ceiling. Being a typical teenager, he decided to vault over the couch to get to the apartment door, not around it.

Ned simply shook his head, entirely too used to his friends antics, while Peter scrambled toward the door and flung it open.

"Hi, Con-" The word was abruptly cut off as his brain registered who was standing in front of him, making his heart skip a beat.

MJ raised an eyebrow in silent question and the brunette brought a hand up to awkwardly rub the back of his neck.

"M-MJ. How's it going?"

The young woman shifted awkwardly on her feet but maintained eye contact with him. If Peter had to guess, he'd say she was embarrassed.

"Hey, Pete." She craned her head to the side and waved toward the interior of the apartment. "Hey, Ned."

Ned waved back and Peter realized for the first time this morning that he actually hadn't gotten dressed out of the sweatpants and shirt he had slept in.

He felt his face go red and he pressed his lips into a thin line.

MJ looked at him again. "So, I was in the neighborhood. I don't really have anything to do today and I was wondering if you guys wanted to hang out."

Peter's mouth almost dropped open in shock at how casually that statement came out of her, but the young man could tell by the way she was fiddling with the strap of her bag that it was anything but casual.

Peter, Ned and MJ had all been trying to make more of an effort with each other, be more friendly.

So far so good if MJ's unexpected visit was anything to go by.

Peter stepped aside and ushered her into the apartment.

Sometime during the exchange, Ned had disappeared into Pete's room and was only now stepping out into the living room with a fresh change of clothes on. He made his way over to the couch and scooped up his blankets and pillow and went to deposit them in Peter's room until he would need them again tonight.

Peter shot his friend an annoyed look to which Ned responded with an all too innocent smile and a subtle lift of his shoulders before carrying on his way. 

The brunette was trying to think up a non-awkward way to excuse himself to change clothes when there was another knock on the door. All three heads swiveled towards it.

"You guys expecting someone?" MJ asked, messing with the strap of her bag again.

"Yeah, our friend. Connor." Ned answered.

Peter saw a flash of discomfort briefly come over her countenance before it disappeared with an indifferent shrug. "I can go."

"Nah." Peter waved nonchalantly. "We could use a fourth player anyway." He smiled brightly as he opened the door. 

Connor greeted Ned and Peter before he turned to shake MJ's hand and introduce himself. 

The young woman sized their friend up for a few, uncomfortable seconds while Connor fidgeted in place, before she relaxed and reciprocated the greeting in her usual, subdued manner. 

Still awkwardly standing in his slept-in clothes, Peter pursed his lips and side-eyed Ned.

Again, his friend unhelpfully shrugged back at him.

This was either going to be the start of a beautiful friendship or it was going to be horrible and scare away both Connor and MJ.

And with the eternal, all powerful, Parker Luck on his side...well, the odds were never in Peter's favor.  

May stepped through the door of their apartment shortly after 7:00 pm. She'd gotten off of work a little early and immediately made her way home.

They were going to order food in tonight. She'd already decided that when she found out Ned would be sleeping over the whole weekend, which she was fine with.

Then last night, Peter told her that Connor, his friend and sometimes tutor from Stark Industries, was coming over to play video games and hang out today.

And just a few hours ago during the middle of her shift, she got a text from Peter saying that MJ had dropped by too and didn't seem to be leaving anytime soon.

May sighed. She was just too tired for this right now. She really wanted to sit on the couch and watch something she's already seen so her brain could turn off.

Her shift at the ER had been insane, to say the least. Besides all the usual things she normally dealt with, apparently Daredevil had come out of Hell's Kitchen to deal with a local gang that had shot up a convenience store on his turf a few days ago. 

There had been a group of middle school kids in that store when it had been hit. 

Daredevil's "victims" had come into May's ER beat to hell and under armed, police escort. All of them had broken bones, most of them had concussions and more than half of them were still unconscious from when the vigilante had attacked those animals. 

She needed to remember to ask Peter if he knew Daredevil, so that he could pass along her thanks for taking the gang out of commission. 

When she pushed opened the apartment door, she spotted her nephew and their three guests sitting around the living room and leaning toward the TV. They were all actively engaged in an intense game of Mario Kart.

"Hi, guys." May called out, kicking off her shoes. One of the kids, probably Connor or MJ because they were the newest here, paused the game so they could greet her. All four of them turned, but Peter spoke up.

"Hey, May. We're just finishing up this race, should be another minute." He pointed at the kitchen table. "Connor bought food and it's ready. The table's set too. Go get changed. You wanna watch a movie after dinner?"

May smiled and turned to look at the table. Bless these children; they had Thai food delivered and ready to go.

"Yes, and Connor? Let me know how much it was so I can pay you back. Ok?" She looked directly at the young man, but could immediately tell by the look on Connor's face that any paying back of money was not going to happen. 

May would try anyway. 

By the time she changed out of her scrubs and made it back into the kitchen, the four of them were already seated and dishing out the food.

"So, have you guys been playing Mario Kart this whole time? You two were playing when I left." May pointed at her nephew and Ned, pulled out the empty chair and sat.

"No." Peter laughed and shook his head. "We played Smash Bros. and God of War for a while too."

"MJ was surprisingly good at God of War." Next to Peter, Ned chimed in with deep respect.

Beside May, the young woman bristled and rolled her eyes. "And why is that surprising?"

Connor's brows slowly lifted towards his hairline.

So did Ned's. "...'cause you don't play video games, MJ." He answered haltingly with wide eyes.

MJ seemed to search Ned's face for some form of insincerity and relaxed when she didn't find any.

Peter blew out a slow breath as May cleared her throat. "So, Connor," the young man's attention snapped to her, "you don't sound like you're from New York. Did you move here?"

The brunette nodded. "I grew up in Detroit actually. I moved to New York a few months ago."

"What made you want to come to New York?" May asked. She was pretty sure she knew, but it was always polite to ask.

"I graduated with a degree in mechanical engineering," he said, inclining his head slightly. "I've wanted to work for Stark Industries for a long time. I moved here to do that."

"Do you have any family in New York?"

"Uh, yes. Hank - my dad - he moved out here with me." Connor smiled shyly and ducked his head a little.

MJ piped up next to her. "Why do you call your dad 'Hank?'"

Peter froze mid-motion while shoveling food into his mouth.

Connor's eyes darted around for a quick moment and he swallowed thickly. "I'm -I'm adopted. I was a little older when Hank took me in."

Well, that explained a few things, but May could clearly tell that he was uncomfortable and decided to change the topic.

She opened her mouth to ask Peter about what movie they were going to watch tonight, but MJ spoke before she could.

"Did you have parents before Hank? Do you remember them?"

May's eyes widened at the very personal question that the girl asked. Then, she had to hold back a chuckle as she noticed Peter and Ned's eyes bouncing back and forth between Connor and MJ like they were watching a tennis match.

Connor shifted in his seat and pushed his pad Thai around his plate.

The silence that rang through the kitchen suddenly became tense, but MJ remained as laid back and patient as ever while she waited for an answer.

"I remember my - my mom. She- uh, wasn't very nice." Connor smiled up at them. "Hank is - I'm very happy I have Hank as my dad." He stilled for a few moments, eyes drifting left, before nodding jerkily and hastily putting some food in his mouth.

MJ nodded and resumed eating her takeout like nothing had happened.

May took a deep breath. Topic change. Now.

"So, what movie are we watching tonight?"

May sat with Peter and Ned after MJ and Connor had left to go home. Peter had been unusually silent since dinner. He hadn't even laughed much during the funny parts of A New Hope.

"What's going on, kiddo?" She elbowed him lightly.

Peter shrugged and Ned turned to look at his best friend.

"I just- Connor's reaction to talking about his mom - it seemed strange right?" He looked at her, willing his aunt to have all the right answers.

May smiled gently. Peter always had a heart for other people. He always cared too much, too strongly.

"Yeah, it did, but he said he's happy that he's with his dad now." She thought for a moment. "Sometimes, we go through things in life. And that's how we find out what we're made of and who the important people are to us. Looks like Connor's figured out who his family is and who his friends are."

She pinched his side, making him chuckle as he tried to squirm away.

Peter nodded and smiled widely at May before giving her a chaste kiss on her cheek.

Yeah, she was happy she had Peter. And Ned too, of course.

Seated comfortably on the couch, Hank looked up from his book at the sound of the door opening. 

He grinned at Connor as the kid pulled the door closed behind him and locked up. 

Hank frowned at the pensive look on Connor's face.

"Hey. You ok? Did something happen?"

The Android shook his head and quickly made his way over to the couch to sit beside the older man. "Everything's fine."

He leaned toward Hank, wrapped his arms around the startled man and held him in a firm hug. 

Worried, Hank's heart rate jumped as he worked his arms out from between them and snaked them around the kid's body. He wasn't subtle as he tried to feel for any damage. 

"Son?"

After a few seconds, Connor let out a long exhale and relaxed against Hank before burying his head in the crook of the older man's neck. 

"I'm ok. Thank you... for everything." The kid paused. "Dad." He took a steady breath in, pulled back and angled himself so that he could lean against Hank. Connor gently rested his head on the older man's shoulder. 

Hank blinked slowly and brought his arm up around the android, pulling him close. "Did -um, did you have fun today?"

He felt Connor nod. "Yes. I particularly enjoyed playing Mario Kart again. I think tomorrow I'll go out and purchase it." He took another slow breath and straightened his head, still slumped against Hank's side. "We could play. Perhaps you would like to lose to me in that game too?"

The kid angled his head enough so that the older man could clearly see his smug, toothy smile.

The worry in Hank's chest eased and he shook his head, smiling slowly. "I hope you have enough game to back up all this smack talk, Con."

"Of course. And didn't you know? I have a 'smack talk protocol.'"

"Is it malfunctioning? 'Cause it's pretty weak."

Connor grit his teeth, giving the other man a dark look that promised revenge. "You'll see, Hank." He said menacingly. "You'll see."

The two men stared off at each other before they both started chuckling at their ridiculous conversation. 

Later, Hank teared up when he saw the new, yellow Post-It note on the fridge. 

Belonging

Chapter Text

July 2019

Hank: why was the robot angry ?

313 248 317-52: what?

Hank: cause somebody kept pushing his buttons 😆

Connor smiled to himself as he made his way down the crowded street.

Hank: whats a robots favorite type of music ?

313 248 317-52: I don't know. What?

Hank: heavy.

Hank: metal.

Hank: hahahaha 😂

313 248 317-52: 😊 I like that one.

Hank: I have so many moreee

313 248 317-52: Hank, am I the theme for today's puns?

Hank:..... no?

The android shook his head, a warm smile crossing his face.

A sharp cry cut off any further thoughts about Hank as Connor swiveled to his right.

In the alleyway next to him, a woman pointed a gun at a young businessman, demanding that he hand over the contents of his wallet.

Time slowed as Connor activated his facial recognition and biometric scans.

Scanning ...

Name: Allison Moore

Age: 21

Criminal Record: DUI, Sale of Illegal Drugs, Possession, Under the Influence, Petty Theft

Increased Stress Level

Probability of Violence: High

Name: Joshua Abrams

Age: 24

Criminal Record: Public Intoxication

Increased Stress Level

Connor felt his thirium pump pick up speed as time seemingly resumed its normal pace.

Allison, more than likely, was an addict looking to score some cash to buy her next hit, if her shaking and twitchy behavior were anything to go by.

The young woman yelled again and Joshua didn't move. He was panicking and Allison was growing more agitated by the second.

Connor needed to intervene, but he had to be careful. He bit his lip and moved into the alley.

Neutralize Perpetrator

Protect the Hostage

"Hey," he called out, raising his hands in the most non-threatening manner that he could.

Allison swung her trembling gun around towards him and Connor felt his chest tighten painfully.

Warning: Increased Internal Pressure

Connor dismissed the message from his HUD, trying to concentrate on the here and now. He took a slow breath in and felt his chest loosen marginally.

The android took a shuffling step closer.

"Get out of here!" Allison cried out, still keeping the gun trained on Connor.

Her shaking had gotten worse and her wild eyes darted frantically between the hostage and himself.

She aimed the gun back to Joshua. "I just want your money. That's all. I don't want to hurt you." She begged, her voice taking a hysterical edge. "Please!"

Connor moved another few strides closer.

Perpetrator Stress Level: 84%

Stress Level: 77%

Connor chose his approach.

Sympathize

"Allison." The young woman faced Connor again and he slid a foot forward. "I know you think that you need this money, but buying more drugs isn't the way."

Another step.

"You need help."

Tears started flowing down her face and Joshua was still frozen against the wall.

She shuddered and Connor moved closer.

"I know you don't want to do this, Allison."

Perpetrator Stress Level: 65%

Connor, now only a few feet away, caught the young woman when she collapsed to her knees in a sobbing heap. The gun fell from her slackened grip and came to rest on the ground. Connor kicked it away and out of the reach of them all.

The android turned towards Joshua, who was barely breathing and staring at them in shock.

"Sir," Connor said, perfectly emulating Hank's calmest, talking-with-victims voice. "Please call the police."

He would be lying if he said that he wasn't proud of how steady and calm his voice sounded. It was a stark contrast to the frantic beating of his thirium pump.

Unfortunately, the other young man did not move.

"Sir," Connor tried again with a little more force, "take a breath and call the police. Now."

Six minutes and seven seconds later, Connor heard sirens making their way towards them while Allison was still crying in his arms. Her shaking had increased steadily over the last three minutes and ten seconds.

Thirty-three seconds passed before Joshua could hear the sirens too and slumped against the wall.

One minute and twenty-one seconds after that, Joshua was shaking almost as much as Allison and the police officers ran into the alley.

Over the course of the next hour, Allison was taken away and brought to a hospital, Connor and Joshua's statements were taken and the gun in the alley was collected.

Once he was released by the police, Connor continued on his way to work. He was going to be late, but since this was his first lateness, he wasn't too concerned.

Hank: oh ! I got one

Hank: what did the android do at lunch ?

313 248 317-52: What?

Hank: he had a BYTE to eat

Hank: 😆😆😆

Connor grinned as he rode the elevator up to his department's floor. These jokes were terrible, but he was starting to understand why Hank liked them so much.

"Dad Jokes," the man had called them.

313 248 317-52: That was very punny, Hank.

Hank: 😁

Nearly an hour later, Connor's work was interrupted by Dr. Wong clearing her throat from across his work table.

He looked up. "Dr. Wong?"

The woman smiled at him like she knew something he didn't, and Connor's forehead creased in confusion.

"Mr. Stark would like to see you in his workshop. He has some questions about the armour designs you submitted last month."

Connor's eyes widened and behind the Doctor, he could see Jim, Aveline and unfortunately, Dr. Bauer's looks of surprise.

The android stood and locked his computer. "Thank you, Dr. Wong. Should I go now or is he expecting me later?"

Continuing to grin at him, she winked and said, "You can head up there now," before turning and heading back to her office.

Connor's thirium pump picked up it's pace and he saw his two friends giving him their thumbs up in encouragement.

The android managed to give Aveline and Jim a stiff and probably very awkward smile before making his way toward the elevator.

Tony lifted his head as the elevator doors in his workshop dinged. FRIDAY only allowed authorized employees and staff to take the elevator up here and today, Connor Anderson was one of those people.

Speak of the devil.

Connor cautiously exited the elevator, his eyes quickly darting around the lab before coming to rest on Tony.

Stark spread his arms wide. "Welcome to the Thunderdome, kid."

Connor's brows briefly furrowed in confusion before his face relaxed and he started taking in his surroundings again.

Weird. "Well, what do you think?"

Connor made to reach into his pocket, but aborted the movement at the last second. The young man swallowed before he spoke. "It's very," he paused, "extensive. Large. Very well-equipped." He released a shaky exhale.

That was not really the reaction Tony had been expecting, but figured the kid was probably just nervous. Most people usually were around the billionaire.

He waved Connor towards his work bench and pulled up the holographic schematics of the young man's project.

"This is..." Tony trailed off and gestured toward the hologram. "Inspired. Really." He looked back at the kid. "How did you come up with this?"

Connor stiffened like a deer in headlights. After a long second, he shrugged hesitantly. "It was... just an idea I had."

"Ah-huh. What about this section of the chest?" Tony pointed to that part of the display. He'd been particularly impressed with the way the design would protect the organs from damage. He was thinking about incorporating it into some of the Avengers' armour.

Again Connor stalled for a moment. "I just thought it might work better than what is currently being used by the military and law enforcement personnel."

"So," Tony dragged out the word, "nothing actually inspired this concept?"

The kid turned to look at him questioningly. "Nothing in particular that I can pinpoint, Mr. Stark. Can I ask what normally inspires your designs?"

The billionaire blinked awkwardly. That was an excellent point. Sometimes, he just had an idea. No specific, pinpoint-able inspiration needed. Sometimes, it was definitely alcohol.

He grinned at Connor and wagged a finger at him. "Good point."

Tony turned and started walking deeper into the lab, motioning for the other man to follow him. "So, listen. I could actually use an extra set of hands today, kid. You game?" He turned to walk backwards, facing Connor in time to see him nod.

Stark slapped his hands together. "Great! This way. We're going to be working on a new set of wings for Falcon. I'm almost done, but, like I said, I need an extra set of hands."

The older man dove headfirst into the mess of a project that lay before him. He started pulling out wires and showing Connor where everything was and what needed to be done. The younger man nodded along and asked rather impressive questions, in Tony's opinion.

Once they got started, FRIDAY switched on the music and they worked in companionable silence for some time.

A few hours passed and Tony's vision blurred. He tried to blink away the dark spots that popped up for a few seconds. He looked up; they made a lot of progress.

Stark switched off his soldering iron. "Hey Fri, when are Cap and Wilson supposed to be dropping by?"

"Not for a few more hours, boss." The AI replied.

Connor paused in his work on the fully extended, right wing and was looking at Tony expectantly.

Stark nodded, mostly to himself and looked at the kid. "Let's take a break? I think I need to sit for a few minutes." His head swam a little. He honestly wasn't sure when he last had some food.

Or water, for that matter.

And that might explain the headache.

For a beat, Connor's face went blank as he stared intently at Tony.

Then the kid blinked a second later, nodded and picked his way across the lab toward the small kitchen and see-through fridge Pepper had installed in here after she found Tony nearly passed out from a forty-eight hour build-a-thon.

Bypassing the easily accessible junk food, the young man grabbed a Gatorade, one of those healthy, organic protein bars and an apple, returning to where Stark had taken a seat near the work bench. Connor wordlessly handed all the items to Tony before taking a seat himself.

"Thanks." The billionaire tore into the bar, lamenting the neglected Chocolate Fudge Pop Tarts that were still beside the fridge, and sipped from the sports drink.

After a minute of nothing but Tony's chewing, the older man swallowed and looked to Connor. "You know, you can help yourself to anything you want in there." He pointed to the kitchen.

The young man nodded. "Thank you, Mr. Stark, but I'm alright."

Tony side-eyed him, but decided to let it go. Some people were weird about eating food that wasn't their own. "Call me Tony, kid."

Connor looked surprised but agreed. "Ok, Tony."

"So, you feeling better?" Stark took another sip of the Gatorade. 

The young man tilted his head, brows drawn together. "I-I'm sorry?"

"Your dad said you had a stomach virus. I know sometimes those things can... linger." He gestured with the hand holding the protein bar.

"Oh. Yes, thank you, Mr. S- Tony." Connor reached for his jacket pocket but, again, didn't complete the action. His hands came to rest on his lap, fingers twitching sporadically.

Tony let out a soft sigh. The kid wasn't making this easy. "You know, you don't really look much like your dad. Maybe in height, but I'd say that's probably it." he said as casually as he could.

Connor seemed to freeze on the spot, his gaze drifting to the right before snapping back to Tony. His posture became rigid.

"I-I'm adopted. Some people have told me that I look like... my mother."

The billionaire's face pinched at the way Connor seemed to grind out that last word.

Well, Stark wouldn't be a fan of someone that tried to kill him either. "Ah, I hear ya. I look like my old man and I wasn't too crazy about him."

So, there was a part of Tony that liked to poke the metaphorical Hulk. Sue him.

There was also another, smaller part of him that was currently losing this battle and yelling at him to shut up.

This part of him sounded a lot like Rhodey. 

That man was no fun and, interestingly enough, he was about ninety percent of Tony's impulse control. The other eight percent was Pep.

Rogers was probably one percent.

Maybe less.

Connor nodded and looked away. The only indication that he didn't like this conversation was his hands balling up into fists.

"Your dad seems nice, though. Hank, right?"

The kid looked down at his lap and his body relaxed slightly. "He's a good dad."

Tony nodded in understanding. "I'm sure he is. It's good to have someone in your corner that you can rely on."

Connor hummed in agreement and the billionaire took a long moment to study the kid while he had his head bowed.

"How old were you when you were adopted?" Stark blurted out, immediately cringing afterward. He really should listen to Jiminy-Cricket-Rhodey more often.

The young man flinched and finally, finally reached into his pocket. He withdrew a quarter and quietly ran it over the knuckles of his right hand.

Ah. So it was a nervous tic, then.

"I was ten." Connor looked up, determinedly making eye contact with Tony.

Damn. Stark bit his lip and started jiggling his leg. "I-I'm sorry, Connor." He crossed his arms over his chest. "I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."

The kid turned his head to look out the window and blew out a slow breath, still rapidly running the coin over his fingers. After a few seconds, Connor nodded jerkily and gave Tony a small smile, which really looked more like a grimace.

Stark switched gears. "So, what do you like to do for fun?" He took a large bite of the protein bar. Hopefully, that would shut him up.

The kid looked thrown by the topic change, but after two blinks, his expression eased with a quick grin. "I enjoy playing video games, watching movies and going paintballing." He leaned back in his chair.

Tony smiled, not expecting that answer. "Paintballing?" he asked around the food in his mouth.

Connor inclined his head. "Hank and I go when we have the chance. It's a lot of fun." He gestured to Tony, slipping the coin back in his pocket. "Have you ever been?"

The billionaire smirked, glad that he had been able to steer the ship back into smoother waters, and shook his head. "No, and I don't think I'd like it, to be honest. Too much running, not enough drinking." He smiled jokingly.

The kid chuckled and shrugged. "It's not for everyone."

"So, your dad goes with you?"

Connor nodded, a fond smile stretching his lips. "Yeah, and he's good too. I mean, he is a cop." He said matter-of-factly while his hand waved through the air.

Tony hummed, his gut clenching with a new thought running through his mind. He knew how some parents, some dads, could be.

"Was Hank," Stark paused, "ok with you going into mechanical engineering?" He gestured towards Connor. "You know, some dad's want their kids to... 'follow in their footsteps' or whatever." He finished with a laugh and finger quotes, trying to keep the question light.

The young man looked confused and slowly shook his head. "Hank always told me that I could be whatever I want. I chose to be a -a mechanical engineer. He was very supportive of my choice." Connor chuckled, eyes shifting to the left. "He actually sat me down in the kitchen, practically interrogated me to make sure that's what I really wanted. He wanted to make sure that my - that nothing was influencing that decision, that it was what I really wanted." He reiterated.

Relief swept through Tony. "Oh, that's good." The kid had been through enough. He didn't need that on top of everything else.

"Favorite movie?"

Connor smiled widely. "Star Wars."

"Nice." Tony grinned appreciatively. "So, video games?"

Connor snickered and started to say something, but was cut off by the ding of the elevator.

Both men turned toward the unexpected sound to see Rhodey entering the lab.

Speak of Jiminy Cricket.

"Tony, what the hell is with the elevators? They look like shi-"

Stark cut the Colonel off with a panicked look. "Just trying out a new aesthetic choice, Rhodes." He said far too loudly, forcing a strained chuckle and a slap to his own knee. "That's all." His smile was too wide. 

Relax the face, Tony. Relax the face.

From the corner of his eye, Stark saw Connor startle and shoot him a confused look while, in front of him, Rhodey gave him the infamous what-the-hell-is-wrong-with-you-now face.

At precisely 6:34 pm, Connor opened the door to the apartment and nearly dropped the groceries he was carrying.

Hank looked up from where he was stretched out on the floor doing push-ups.

The android's processor seemed to stop completely, not really comprehending what he was seeing.

The older man sighed heavily and put a leg underneath himself to straighten up his back. "Con, don't get all weird about this. I'm just working out a little. That's all. Ok?"

A goofy grin spread across Connor's face as he twisted a little to lock the door behind him, all the while keeping his eyes glued on Hank.

The older man scowled and pointed a finger at the android. "Hey, did you stop an armed robbery this morning?"

Connor blinked at the rapid change of topic and realized somewhat belatedly he had forgotten to mention it to Hank.

The android aimed for an innocent smile and failed miserably if Hank's flinch was anything to go by. "Yes." The word ended like a question.

Hank shook his head. "Good job, son." He went back to his work out. "I'm proud of you."

Connor smiled brightly at the compliment and the push-ups.

Chapter Text

July 2019

Hank finally finished his last set of sit-ups, flopping back down onto the living room floor in exhaustion. His heart was racing and he put a hand on his chest to try to calm the rapid beating.

The older man huffed. He was so out of shape. It wasn't even funny.

The apartment door opened and Hank, too tired to move, craned his neck to see Connor enter the apartment with a large bag of clean laundry slung over his shoulder. The kid looked like the young, hip, flip-flop wearing, summer version of Santa Claus right now and that mental image made Hank chuckle.

Confusion and worry quickly flashed across the android's face and Connor's body stilled as his intense gaze honed in on Hank.

The older man sighed. He was sweaty, his heart was racing and he still hadn't caught his breath.

And to top it all off, he was lying on the floor and had yet to move.

That old "Help! I've Fallen and I Can't Get Up" commercial came to mind and Hank started laughing all over again.

"I'm ok, kid." He managed to control himself after a few moments. "I'm ok. Just old and tired."

Connor seemed to come back to himself, smiling cheekily. "I know," he gave the older man a teasing wink, "but my scans have informed me that you're in good health." He gently placed the stuffed bag on the couch and leaned down with an outstretched hand.

Hank sighed heavily. The floor was comfortable now, but he did need to get up eventually.

He was hungry.

He lifted an aching arm and grabbed the kid's hand. Connor pulled him upright and Hank stretched until he felt his spine pop.

The android grimaced, apparently still not used to the noise.

Hank could understand though. If Connor's body did anything like that, he would need to see an android technician immediately.

Do not pass go. Do not collect two hundred dollars. Just get to an emergency android clinic stat.

Still though, the kid licked everything in sight, usually just to mess with Hank, and this was one way the older man got his revenge.

Connor licked something he was curious about. Hank cracked a finger.

Licked the mysterious smudge on the counter. Crack a knuckle. Lick some of Hank's food. Pop a wrist. Lick. Crack. Lick. Pop, crack.

It was a weird system they had, but it worked.

The older man sighed at the release of pressure in his back, leaned his head to the right and loudly cracked his neck. He repeated the process on the left side. Hank turned and smiled widely at his android son.

Connor looked like he was going to throw up.

Hank barked out a laugh at the kid's expression and started toward the kitchen to make himself a protein shake. He shook his head in amusement.

Things really had changed in his life. Case in point, he woke up this morning, worked out and now he was having a healthy breakfast.

Willingly.

He smiled fondly at the android who was making his way over to the laundry.

"So, what do you have planned for the day?" Hank added two scoops of the organic, chocolate protein powder that Connor had bought last week into the blender.

The kid tilted his head to the side in contemplation. "I am going to fold the laundry, clean the kitchen and the bathroom. I would also like to vacuum and dust today as well."

Hank pointed the organic banana he was about to add to his breakfast towards the mess of Legos on the coffee table and the floor. He'd had to move those before he started his workout this morning. "Does that include cleaning up those damn Legos?"

To the surprise of no one in the room, Connor playfully rolled his eyes. "Yes, Dad." the kid said, sass off the charts.

The older man chuckled. Yeah, Connor was definitely his kid. "And what can I do to help?" He added the banana and some organic cherries.

Connor looked up from the laundry in surprise. "You don't need to -"

Hank cut him off. "I want to help. It's my apartment too, you know. What do you want to do the least? I can take care of it." He poured the organic almond milk into the blender.

Connor smiled mischievously, his lips stretched just a little too far. "The Legos and the vacuuming?"

Hank rolled his eyes. "Yeah, sure. I'll take care of the bathroom too." He started the blender.

Once the shake was finished, he poured it into a glass and joined Connor on the couch. The kid was efficiently making his way through sorting and folding the laundry.

He took a swallow of the drink and was loath to admit that it was actually pretty good. When Hank looked up, Connor was smiling at him knowingly.

The older man shook his head. Some days, he could swear the android was a mind reader.

"What do you wanna do once we're done cleaning?" He pushed a pile of Legos to the edge of the coffee table, put down his shake and grabbed a shirt to fold.

"I actually have an idea. I was thinking that tonight we could barbeque on the roof and maybe watch the sunset? I've never sat and watched one before." The kid gestured toward Hank with the socks he held in his hand. "I'd like to do it at least once with you."

The older man nodded. "Good idea, son. And then maybe after that, I could whip your ass in Smash Bros.?"

Connor smiled at the old routine. "Hank, it's incredibly sad to me that you still think you're better at that game than me. Clearly, I am the superior player."

"Um, who won last time we played?"

"I will admit that you beat me the last round, but statistically speaking -"

"'Statistically speaking,'" Hank interrupted, "you still stuck at smack talk. We'll work on it, though." He gave the kid a toothy smile and patted the android's knee consolingly.

Connor's eyes narrowed into thin slits. "I'm gunna smack that grin right off your face when I give you the worst Super Smash Bros. smackdown of your life, Hank."

The older man froze before he started laughing so hard he could barely breathe. A few seconds later, Connor's laughter joined his.

As far as Hank was concerned, he deserved a long, hot shower. His muscles were aching. So, he stretched like Connor nagged him too, took that long shower and dressed in loose shorts and t-shirt.

He walked back into the bathroom to towel dry his hair and, after he was finished, made his way down the hall to the living room.

When Hank looked up, he saw Connor standing by the couch, facing the apartment door.

"Hey. You know, I was thinking. Does everything have to be organic?" He reached the end of the short hall.

Connor's head barely twitched towards him and the android gave him a wide-eyed glance.

"I mean I know you -" Hank stopped abruptly. His whole body tensed at the sight before him.

A man stood in their living room, pointing a gun at Connor's chest.

Hank's heart took off like a jackhammer, thundering loudly in his hears. Jeffery Moore, his brain sluggishly supplied, was their prime suspect in the Samuel Allen murder, but they'd been unable to prove anything yet.

Jeffrey swung his handgun on Hank for a second and the android took a small step forward. Moore swiveled the weapon back toward Connor and the kid froze in place, raising his hands slightly.

Hank took a step toward Connor. "Mr. Moore? What, ah, what're ya doing here?" He kept his voice steady.

Moore had a crazed look in his eyes, like a lot of people the older man had seen throughout the years while working with the Red Ice Task Force.

"You've taken everything from me." Jeffrey spat. "You've ruined everything." Each word was punctuated with a shake of his gun. 

Hank's heart pounded in his chest and he slid closer to Connor. Moore's gun still pointed at the kid.

The older man breathed in and moved forward again. 

With his hand, Connor subtly motioned for Hank to stay back.

Like hell he would.

"Listen, Jeffrey -"

"No! You listen." Moore exploded. "I know that you know. I killed Sam and now, my ex won't let me see my kids. She's says I'm dangerous." He ranted, waving his gun around but still keeping it mostly on Connor's center mass.

Noticeable only to someone like Hank who knew him well, the android seemed to space out for a few seconds before his attention snapped back to the present.

The older man's brow creased and his chest tightened. The kid was going to do something stupid. He just knew it.  

He took another step toward Connor.

Moore fixed Hank with a rage-filled glare. "It's all your fault. So, now it's your turn. You lose everything now."

The android subtly shifted one foot back, like he was getting ready to rush the perp.

At this distance though, Hank knew the kid would be killed. There was no way he could survive that.

Probably.

Regardless, he couldn't take the risk, not with his son's life. 

The older man slid forward again, coming to stand bodily in front of Connor.

"What are you doing?" the kid hissed in his ear.

Ignoring him, Hank raised his hands placatingly. "Jeffrey, this doesn't have to end this way. This doesn't have to-"

He saw Moore's face twist and felt Connor grab his hip and side.

The gun sounded.

Connor heaved to the right, bringing them both crashing painfully to the ground.

Pain exploded in Hank's left arm and the older man instinctually covered the wound with his right hand. Only years of training and experience kept Hank from firmly clenching his eyes closed.

In the next instant, Connor rolled over him and darted forward.

Panicked, Moore shot off another round, but the android ducked, dodged left and closed the distance between them. The kid brought his right fist up hard to uppercut Moore's chin.

The man's head snapped back with the force of it.

Connor's left hand grabbed Jeffrey's fist, gun and all, and forcibly jammed the man's wrist back until it snapped audibly, making Moore cry out in pain and release the weapon.

The android took hold of the pistol, flipped it backwards and whipped Moore hard across the face. Twice.

Jeffrey dropped to the ground like a rag doll while Connor stood above him, breathing hard and glaring furiously at the unconscious man before snapping that scanning gaze on Hank again.

"Dad!" Connor cried out. The android dismantled the gun faster than the older man could blink and quickly returned to his side, setting the weapon pieces on the floor beside them.

The kid grabbed a freshly folded t-shirt from the couch and reached out, trembling.

He moved Hank's hand, rapidly inspected the messy flesh wound and clamped the shirt down onto the older man's arm. Hank hissed and looked back up at Connor.

If he didn't know any better, he'd say the kid looked like he was going to pass out. Connor was breathing like a human that just finished a marathon.

"Hey. Hey, Con." The android exhaled shakily as he dragged his eyes away from the growing blood stains on the t-shirt to meet Hank's eyes. "I'm ok, kid. I don't think it's deep. Hurts like hell, but I'm ok."

Connor's brows furrowed and he took another unsteady breath before opening his mouth to speak. "Dispatch, this is Detective Hank Anderson, badge number 8052."

Hank jerked as his voice came out of the android's mouth.

"I've been shot. Send an ambulance and a squad car to me." Connor rattled off their apartment address and the older man's eyes widened in shock.

What. The. HELL?

"The perp, Jeffery Moore, is unconscious in my living room." Connor paused for a second. "Great, thank you."

The kid returned his attention back to Hank, apparently having "hung up" on his call with dispatch.

Hank cursed loudly. "What the hell was that?"

Connor cocked his head to the side. "What the hell was what?"

The older man sputtered as he sat up and winced. Groaning, his right hand landed on top of Connor's, still clamped around the gunshot.

"Since when can you imitate my voice?"

Despite the overwhelming fear and worry on the kid's face, Connor managed the slightest uptick of his lips.

"About a minute after I met you, Hank."

The police and paramedics showed up quickly. Still unconscious, Jeffery Moore was secured and brought to the hospital under armed escort.

Hank's arm was dressed and despite his protests, he was loaded onto a stretcher and brought to the ambulance.

The ambulance ride was annoying and long, but he and Connor eventually made it the hospital.

Hospital admittance was even more irritating. Thankfully, the android made quick work of the intake forms.

Shortly after that, the older man was brought in to see a doctor and Connor was asked by the nurse to wait outside.

"I'll be back in a bit, Con. It's fine." He tried to be reassuring. The kid had been quietly freaking the hell out since Moore pulled the trigger and Hank didn't think his words, any of his words over the last hour, had the desired effect. 

He tried again. "I'm ok, son. I'll be back in a little."

Connor nodded, wringing his red stained hands together.

With one last look at his anxious son in the overcrowded ER, Hank left to see the doctor.

When George had gotten the call from Captain Watanabe telling him to get over the hospital because their prime suspect shot Hank at the man's apartment, the Lieutenant could barely think. He left his shopping day with Helen and the kids, jumped into his car and hightailed it over there, sirens blaring and everything. 

He practically ran to the entrance and skidded to a halt when he saw Connor in the ER waiting room, sitting with his head bowed and his elbows digging into his knees.

The kid's hands were bloodied and shaking and his erratic breathing suggested he was on the verge of a meltdown.

George's stomach dropped even further. 

Step one: keep Connor from having a panic attack. Step two: find out how Hank was. 

Watanabe had been rather sparse with the details. 

"Connor." The young man didn't respond. George tried again and laid a hand on the kid's shoulder. The reaction was instantaneous.

Connor flinched and snapped his head up to Stacy. "Lieutenant." He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, letting out a shuddering breath. 

George nodded and took a seat. "How is he?" Stacy asked, looking towards the ER doors for some sign of the older man. "Are you ok?"

The kid started but was interrupted by a gentle, feminine voice coming from their left.

"Connor?" a brunette in blue scrubs asked.

Recognition flashed in Connor's eyes and he stood.

"Connor, what happened? Are you alright?"

The kid nodded and exhaled shakily. "Hank was shot."

The woman's eyes widened as Connor wiped away fresh tears and sucked in a short breath. 

The Lieutenant stood and extended his hand. "I'm Hank's partner, George."

"May." The woman reciprocated the greeting. "I'm a-," she hesitated for a split-second, "friend. Let me see what I can find out. You should take him to clean up." May indicated Connor's hands. "It'll help. And I'll come find you as soon as I know something." She gave the kid a sad smile.

Connor seemed to notice the blood on his hands for the first time and stared at them with wide eyes. 

At George's prompting, the young man stumbled after him to the men's room.

At first, Connor just stood in the bathroom, looking around dumbly like he didn't know what to do. Stacy pursed his lips and gently guided him toward the sink. He flicked on the faucet and brought the kid's hands to the stream. 

Connor seemed to wake up when he felt the cold water and started scrubbing his hands with earnest. 

George saw the kid's lower lip start to tremble and his eyes fill with unshed tears. Connor aggressively wiped at his face with his shoulders one at a time before resuming his frantic hand washing. 

Stacy laid a soft hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. "Hank's a tough guy. He's gunna be ok."

Connor jerked and raised his head, body stilling. He met George's gaze in the mirror, bit his lip and nodded jerkily. 

Once the kid was finished, George grabbed a handful of flimsy paper towels and led Connor back to the waiting room.

May met them there and explained that Hank's arm was only grazed by the bullet and that he was being discharged soon. 

George was relieved, but nearly rolled his eyes. "Soon" could mean ten minutes or five hours in "hospital time."

May brought Connor back to see his dad and Stacy resigned himself with waiting until Hank was discharged to see his partner. 

George was just glad that the older man was alright. 

He was stitched up, cleaned up and his arm was put in a sling. Adam, his world-weary nurse, left him alone to go get the discharge forms.

Hank sighed and looked up at the ceiling. The bed he was sitting on wasn't very comfortable. It was an ER bed though, so he's not really sure what he was expecting.

His head jerked down as a pretty brunette in scrubs opened the door to his room and stood to the side, revealing Connor. The android inclined his head towards her. "Thank you, May."

May patted Connor on the shoulder and said, "My pleasure, kiddo." She turned and left the two alone. 

Connor's eyes rapidly darted all over Hank's person before zeroing in on his chest. The older man rolled his eyes at the intrusive scanning, but didn't tell him to stop. He knew the kid was worried.

Terrified, more likely. 

After a few seconds, the android closed the distance between them, but came to an abrupt halt an arm's length away. Connor curled his shaking hands into fists.

"Are- are you alright, Hank?" he stuttered. Tears filled his eyes and the kid looked down at his feet.

"I'm ok, son. Doc gave me a ton of stitches, some painkillers and said I can go home now. Just gotta get my paperwork."

Connor nodded, but still didn't look up.

"He even said I can probably go back to work in two to three weeks." Hank added, still not getting a reaction.

"Son?"

"Why?" The kid whispered, the older man barely hearing the word. 

His face creased in confusion. "What?"

Connor looked up, tears spilling down his cheeks. "Why would you shield me?"

Hank blinked. Oh. "Con-"

"I told you to stay back. W-why didn't you listen?" The android's voice glitched out for a second and the older man shot a surreptitious glance towards the open door, praying no one heard the static-filled feedback. "I would have been alright, Hank. My body is f-far more durable than yours. I told you to stay back."

Connor muffled a sob and his whole frame seemed to shake with the force of it. Yet, he held his arms resolutely at his sides, his hands still formed into fists.

Hank's heart broke at the noise, the anger and the concern warring for dominance on the kid's face.

The older man stood up on wobbly legs. He reached out his good hand and placed it on Connor's shoulder. "You're my son, Connor. I'll do whatever it takes to protect you. Whatever it takes." Hank stressed those three words. "I couldn't take the risk that you wouldn't be alright."

He needed Connor to hear him, to understand that the android was his now. "I couldn't take the risk that you'd get hurt." Hank's voice caught roughly in his throat.

Connor released another strangled noise and shook his head. "I -" the android swallowed and glanced away, lips parted, before looking the older man right in the eyes. "I can't lose you, Hank. You're- you're all I have."

"Connor-"

"You don't understand." Distressed, the kid cut him off. "You're all I have." He repeated. "You are my family. I don't belong to my people and I don't belong to the humans."

The kid exhaled shakily. "You're my - I owe you everything, my life. I- I wouldn't even be here if it wasn't for you."

"What?" Hank asked, confused by the turn in the conversation.

Connor stood ramrod straight, shaking like a leaf. "If it wasn't for you, Hank, I'd be dead." His voice choked.

The older man inhaled, to refute, but Connor beat him to it.

"If I hadn't deviated, A-Amanda would have killed me. I'm a prototype, Hank. I would have been replaced eventually." His eyes shone brightly. "I would be dead."

"And if it wasn't for you, I would have never deviated. I would still be a damn machine." the kid spat venomously.

Hank sighed and held up a hand to interrupt. "Connor, that's not tru-."

Again, the android stopped him. "It is." Connor insisted. "Markus may have forced me to choose what I was going to be, but if you- if you hadn't brought me to that line, that wall of code, between machine and sentience, I would have never been able to choose. I would have stayed a soulless, mindless slave."

Hank stood slack-jawed, staring at the young man before him.

"I owe you everything and I don't want to do this, do life, without you. I can't. You can't die on me." Connor took a half step closer. "You mean everything to me, Dad."

It was like something snapped in the android, like the dam broke, and Connor closed the distance between them. The kid's arms, mindful of Hank's injury, circled around the older man's back and held on like he was afraid Hank would vanish.

And in that moment, the older man knew Connor wasn't just talking about today, though that was definitely most of it.

The kid didn't want him taking risks or putting himself in danger, especially not for the android himself.

But Hank knew that some small part of Connor was thinking about the older man's history with Russian Roulette too. 

And now his son was begging Hank to stay with him and trying to explain how much the kid needed him, how important the older man was and how much his son loved him. 

Hank sighed heavily and hugged the android back just as fiercely, his vision blurring as Connor quietly sobbed into his shoulder.

The older man squeezed as much as he was able to with one arm, trying to offer whatever comfort he could to his child.

"You're my son, Connor." Hank spoke slowly. "I promise you, as much as it is in my power to control, I won't leave you, kid. I never will." He paused. "But I will also do whatever it takes to protect you."

Connor shuddered against his chest.

After what felt like a small eternity of pacing, but was probably only five minutes, George gave up and made his way past the ER doors. He flashed his badge at the nurse's station and got directions to Hank. He slowed down when he heard subdued voices coming from the room.

"-I can't." George heard Connor say brokenly. "You can't die on me. You mean everything to me, Dad."

The Lieutenant slowed and leaned against the wall, hearing the sound of Connor's soft cries. Stacy pursed his lips.

George's kids still got upset like this any time he was hurt on the job, no matter how small the injury. They were terrified that one day he wasn't going to come home.

The Lieutenant lifted his head as he heard Hank speak next.

"You're my son, Connor. I promise you, as much as it is in my power to control, I won't leave you, kid. I never will." There was a pause. "But I will also do whatever it takes to protect you."

It was a hard truth for a child to swallow, but as a dad, George knew that he would die for his kids. No hesitation.

"I love you, son."

"I love you too, Dad." was Connor's muffled reply.

Stacy pushed off the wall, deciding to take a long walk to get coffee before circling back to the room.

A few hours later, Hank and Connor waved goodbye to George when he dropped them off back at their apartment. Stacy had offered to walk them up, but the two men decided they could handle it on their own.

"It's just my arm, George." The older man had said in fond exasperation.

Hank sighed as he and Connor exited the elevator to their floor. He was exhausted. This is not how he saw their day going.

The android looked over at him worriedly. "Are you alright?"

The older man smirked. "Yeah, kid. Let's just get inside. I'm tired." He scrubbed a hand down his face.

They rounded the corner to their hallway and Connor stopped dead in his tracks.

Seated on the floor outside their apartment was a tiny, brown-haired teenager. Hank eyed Connor with an arched brow.

The skinny kid looked up and smiled brightly just as Hank raised his good hand to gesture questioningly at the android.

"Hey, Connor." Tiny stood and waved, holding a large Tupperware in his arms. "Mr. Anderson." Hank's name sounded like a question.

Beside him, the android smiled gently. "Hi, Peter." Connor tilted his head to the side like a puppy. "What are you doing here?"

Peter shifted on his feet and he winced. "Well, Aunt May told me what happened and then I bribed Mr. Stark to access the employee files so I could have your address. And then I went home and made May's famous, cure-all, chicken noodle soup. I figured you guys would be hungry when you got home and I really do swear by this soup. It fixes everything." Peter rambled, finally pausing to inhale.

Hank blinked. He was surrounded by puppy-children and his head was swimming from the speed taking.

Or more likely the painkillers.

"So, I hope I'm not bothering you, but I really wanted to see if you both were ok and bring you the soup. I'm sorry that guy attacked you." The teen grimaced, focusing in on Hank. "So not cool." Peter held out the Tupperware in offering.

Connor was the first to recover and quickly stepped forward, accepting the soup.

"Thank you, Peter. We really appreciate it. I don't know about Hank, but I'm very hungry." The android smirked and looked back at the older man.

Ignoring his son, Hank stepped forward and shook hands with Peter. "Nice to meet you, Pete, and thank you for the soup. It's really nice of you, kid."

Peter smiled. "I hope you feel better, Mr. Anderson. I gotta get home and work on a project." He waved and started in the direction of the elevator before turning back. "Connor, if you guys need anything, text me?"

The android grinned and nodded, thanking Peter as the teenager walked around the corner.

Both men started for the apartment again, made their way back inside and collapsed on the couch.

"That was Spider-Man?" Wide-eyed, Hank asked in disbelief. "He's so... small."  The older man lamented.

Connor chuckled and got up to grab Hank a spoon.

 A few days later, George stopped by the Anderson apartment to update the two men on the case.

"So, Moore confessed to actually following you home one night." Stacy said to Hank. "You walked home from the precinct and he tailed you the whole way. Then, he planned out how to kill you."

"See?" The older man turned toward his son. "This is what I get for trying to be 'healthy' and walk home." Hank gently elbowed Connor in the ribs. 

George laughed as the kid rolled his eyes heavenward as though petitioning literally anyone for some divine patience. 

Chapter Text

August 2019

"So, you're coming tonight, right?"

Connor froze and looked up at Tony like a deer in headlights. The kid clearly had no idea what he was talking about.

"The NYPD fundraiser-gala-thing?" Stark waved his hand airily.

Connor relaxed and nodded. "Yes, of course. I'm looking forward to it." He smiled shyly. "Thank you for inviting me, Mr. Stark."

The billionaire rolled his eyes, looking back down at the circuit board he was soldering. "Tony. Remember?"

"Right." The kid smirked.

"Well, all the department heads are going and some employees who have been doing outstanding work were also invited." Stark pointed his screwdriver at the young man. "That's you, by the way."

Connor chuckled and motioned to the holographic display worktable he was sitting at. "Not if I don't get this prototype working." He turned back to his computer.

Earlier this morning, Tony had requested that Dr. Wong send the kid up to his lab again. He needed an extra set of hands for another project he was working on and everything was going smoothly until they ran into a small snag.

Stark could swear that Connor had a computer for a brain. He fixed the issue within a minute and then quickly solved a mathematics problem the billionaire had been staring at for the better part of a day.

This kid was smart.

Or maybe Tony was just tired.

Probably both, considering his lack of sleep.

Either way, Tony decided he'd rather have Connor up here for the rest of the day.

Possibly forev-

"My dad's going to be there tonight too." The kid said, interrupting Stark's thought of permanently kidnapping Connor and keeping him in the lab.

Tony snapped his fingers. He knew he forgot something. "Right. How's he feeling?"

Connor's eyes widened and Stark explained. "Pete told me."

"Oh. Uh, better. Thank you. He has a follow-up with a doctor in a week and they'll tell him when he can go back to work." The kid looked down at his hands and smiled fondly. "He's very bored."

Tony chuckled. "I bet."

Getting into his dress uniform was a little difficult with his arm still kind of out of commission. If he moved his arm too much, he'd definitely pop the stitches and Connor would be pissed.

Angry Connor was worse than tearing his stitches.

Angry Connor kind of reminded him of the Hulk.

Ok, maybe not, but it was just as terrifying.

There was a lot of Looks and not talking about feelings; Hank avoided that at all costs. 

It's been a week and a half since he was shot, grazed really, and the kid yelled at him yesterday for doing sit-ups. 

Sit-ups. 

With his abs, not his arms. 

So, not quite Angry Connor, but it was close. 

Hank rolled his eyes. He needed to remember to be patient with the kid. Connor was worried about him.

The older man chuckled. If the roles were reversed, well, he knew he'd be doing the same exact thing.

Hell, who was he kidding? He'd be worse, probably with an enforced bed rest rule or something.

Do androids even need bed rest? 

Is that a thing for them? 

Hank shook his head and sighed as he glanced at the mirror again. He'd never been good at doing his tie, even with two working hands.

"Hey, Con?" He yelled out into the apartment. "Can you come here a minute?" The older man scowled into the mirror. It looked like a very dumb primate had tried to tie this latest attempt.

The android stepped into the room wearing a sharp, black tux, white dress shirt and matching, long, black tie.

Hank whistled. "Damn, kid. You look like James Bond."

Connor's eyes darted to the side and he knew the android was looking up exactly who that was.

A second later, the kid grinned cockily and struck a pose with one hand on the jacket lapel and the other in his pocket. "Anderson. Connor Anderson."

Hank barked out a gruff laugh, not expecting the android to come out with that, and Connor chuckled too.

The kid's face did something complicated after Hank stopped laughing. The older man followed his line of sight towards the demented looking tie.

"Help me, Connor."

The android smirked. "I'm your only hope?"

That set Hank off laughing again.

Connor grinned wider and stepped close, expertly undoing the mess the older man had made and starting the process all over again. 

Hank stifled a chuckle, trying to stay still and let the kid work. 

"So what's the plan for tonight exactly?"

The android's tongue poked out from between his lips as he concentrated on making the tie. "Well," he paused, "Timothy Deitrich, who we have identified as a Hydra agent due to our previous surveillance work, is going to be in attendance tonight. I do not get to interact with him because he works in the Computer Sciences department, so tonight is the perfect opportunity to clone his phone."

He gently pulled the knot of Hank's tie up and smoothed down the collar of the older man's shirt. Connor turned to the bed and grabbed Hank's jacket. "But, we must be very careful. The Avengers and many trained, law enforcement personnel will be there as well."

Hank nodded. "Any new evidence suggesting that guy you hate -uh, Bauer? That he's Hydra?" 

The kid lifted the jacket, waiting to assist him in putting it on. Connor rolled his eyes so hard, Hank could swear he heard a gear or something squeak. "Not yet."

The older man nodded, poorly suppressing a chuckle. He gingerly lifted his injured arm and slipped it into the sleeve. He followed that with his good one. 

He turned to face the android, who immediately started trying to do the jacket buttons, but Hank swatted his hands away. 

He huffed a laugh. "I got it, son. Thank you for your help."

Connor smiled, but Hank could see just how worried the android was. He rested a hand on the kid's shoulder. 

"Everything's gonna be alright, Con. We'll do this together." He smirked and couldn't help adding, "Worst case scenario, I'll fake a very dramatic heart attack and get everyone's attention so you can do what you gotta do."

Wide-eyed and slack jawed, Connor was stunned into silence. 

About an hour ago, Pepper had come into the lab and forced Tony to leave and get ready for the fundraiser. Stark Industries was hosting this year, so thankfully, he only had to go downstairs.

When he was ready, he walked into the Avenger's lounge and kitchen area.

Bruce was sitting at the island doing something with a StarkPad and Steve was dressed in his tux, perched on the arm of the couch and watching TV.

Stark straightened his tie and made his way over to the other scientist.

"Hiya, Bruce. What's shaking?" Tony reached over the other man and helped himself to some of Bruce's trail mix.

After a few seconds of chewing, he grimaced at the taste and took a closer look at the bowl.

Bruce smirked as Tony came to the startling realization that it was only the healthy stuff. No chocolate.

Animal.

The billionaire grinned as best he could and quickly swallowed the healthy crap.

The other man flipped the tablet toward Tony. "Looks like our experiment worked." Bruce grinned proudly. "For the last few weeks, Connor's been much calmer and hasn't shown any signs of a panic attack since you changed the environment."

Stark took the tablet and quickly browsed through the security footage. The kid really did look better.

Steve hummed from less than a foot behind him and Tony's whole body flinched.

"Holy sh- Steve, seriously?" His heart thudded loudly in his chest. "I gotta get a bell for you."

Rogers smiled, glancing back at the StarkPad. "So, it worked?"

Bruce nodded and his eyebrows rose. "Seems that way."

"Hey, what're we all looking at?" Sam asked loudly from behind them, making only Tony jump and turn to look. Wilson fidgeted with his cuffs as he squinted at the device. "Who's that?"

"That's Connor." Bucky said, from the other side of Bruce.

Tony whirled around, not having heard the ex-assassin come into the room. "Are you guys trying to kill me?" he asked incredulously, not quite shrieking.

Bucky grinned smugly and grabbed some of Banner's trail mix.

The billionaire turned back to Sam. "Connor helped me build your new wings, actually."

Wilson grunted and pointed a finger at the screen. "And this is the kid you think has PTSD?" He looked to Steve for confirmation.

"Oh, he definitely does." Barnes butted in around a mouthful of trail mix before Cap could really answer.

Tony looked to Bruce and Bucky, both dressed in relaxed, comfortable clothes that he was extremely jealous of. "You guys sure you don't want to come down, mingle?"

Misery loved company. 

Both men emphatically declined the offer and made their way over to the couch to watch Star Wars.

Tony was so, so jealous.

The Avengers piled into the elevator and Stark turned to Steve as the doors closed. "Do me a favor, Cap? Try to meet Connor's dad tonight. He's... I just wanna make sure he's treating the kid right."

Steve pursed his lips, contemplating Tony for a long moment, but nodded in agreement.

Thor, Brunnhilde the Valkyrie and another Asgardian with short, black hair named Lael met them on the fundraiser floor.

The place was crowded. There were a lot of people here either dressed to the nines or wearing police uniforms.

Rhodey showed up too and rotated hanging out with the different Avengers. Tony even spotted a now red-headed Natasha roaming around. When he asked her about it, she shrugged and said that a good wig could hide a lot before sauntering off back into the crowd.

Shortly after that, Stark spotted Connor and Hank with a bunch of police officers.

Smirking, Tony abruptly broke away from the boring conversation he was having with the mayor and worked his way through the crowd and over to the group by the open bar.

"Connor!" Stark called out when he was close, enjoying the way the young man jumped a little before turning to him.

The kid shook his hand. "Mr. Stark."

"Remember, it's Tony." the billionaire said and pointed a finger at him. 

Connor nodded and directed his attention to the group around them. The younger officers had a look of total awe on their faces.

"You remember my Dad, Hank? This is Lieutenant Stacy, Sergeant Davis and Officers Williams, Santiago and Hirsch."

Tony inclined his head politely. "Nice to meet you. Hank, good to see you again." The older man nodded and Stark turned his attention back to the kid.

"Can I steal you for a minute? There are some people I'd like to introduce you to and I want your input on two joint projects I've got going on with Pym Tech and Rand Industries. Rand and Meachum are over there and they more or less like doing business with me." He pointed to his left and then hooked a thumb over his shoulder. "Pym and van Dyne are that way and Hank Pym's not a big fan. He'll like you though." He clapped the kid on the shoulder.

Connor looked wide-eyed and unsure for a second, before he nodded and followed after Tony. 

The billionaire smiled. He could hear the impressed chatter from the officers as they left.

Thor lost Loki about an hour ago. He'd been looking around for a while but it seemed to be a lost cause. The big man squeezed his way in between two different groups of people at the bar and flagged down the bartender.

The man's strongest drink really was a joke, so he reached into his pocket for his flask and poured a generous helping into the Midgardian drink.

The lone, grey-haired man to his right snorted and Thor turned to face him. "Is there something I can help you with, friend?" The god of thunder plastered an unconvincing and, quite frankly, insincere smile on his face.

He really wasn't in the mood for anything lately, much less this party, but Tony had practically nagged him into attending.

He hasn't seen any point in celebrating.

The older man grinned. "No." He lifted his own drink in solidarity. "This might be a Stark party, but these drinks are watered down crap. I feel ya."

The Asgardian nodded and after a moment of contemplation, offered his flask to the man. "I must warn you, this is very strong for mortals."

He eyed Thor curiously. "Mortals?"

"Yes, this is an Asgardian drink." He paused. "I am Thor Odinson of Asgard."

Recognition filled the man's eyes and he extended a hand toward the god of thunder. "Hank Anderson." He eyed the flask, still held in Thor's hand. "What would a drop or two do to me?"

The blonde shrugged in a very unkingly manner. "Probably not too much."

Hank grunted and pushed his drink towards the Asgardian.

Thor carefully added two drops and replaced the flask in his pocket.

The man's mouth formed a silent "oh" as he tasted his new drink. "Wow. That's got a kick to it. Thanks."

Thor smiled. "So, son of Ander," Hank's brows furrowed for a second, "what brings you here tonight?"

The grey-haired man smirked again and gestured to his uniform. "Well, I'm NYPD. Though, I probably would have skipped it, but my son works for Stark Industries. So, I'm here."

Thor nodded and smiled at the pride he could easily see in Hank's demeanor when he spoke of his son.

Unbidden, his thoughts turned to Thanos's snap. He wondered if Hank's son had been ripped from him when it happened, when Thor did not strike the killing blow the first time.

Before they went back and rewrote time.

Before this world, the universe, lost and mourned so much.

The god of thunder gazed into his drink and shifted his face away from Hank. His lifted mood was gone.

The two men sat in silence for a few minutes before Thor heard Hank clear his throat.

"You know..." the older man trailed off.

The Asgardian looked up to see Hank eyeing him, like he knew exactly what Thor was thinking. The All-father used to look at him the same way too before he died.

"My son, he's a good kid. Holds onto a lot of guilt for things that aren't his fault at all." The son of Ander looked down at his glass. "You remind me of him."

Thor's vision blurred and he quickly looked away. The ache in his chest eased just a little and Hank continued.

"I don't live far from here. You ever wanna meet up for a drink or to talk or whatever, just let me know."

The older man glanced at something behind Thor, slid his business card toward the Asgardian and stood. "It was nice to meet you. Thanks for the drink, Thor."

He was deep in discussion with Colonel Rhodes about an adjustment the man would like made on his braces, when, past the Colonel's head, Connor spotted Hank speed walking towards him. 

The android's eyes flicked to Rhodey again, then over to Hank, who somehow managed to look calm despite the fast beeline he was making for Connor, and then back to Rhodey. 

He nodded along to whatever the Colonel was saying, no longer paying any attention and infinitely grateful that he could replay this conversation at a later date.

In his periphery, he saw Hank slow and adopt a more casual pace, coming to stand alongside the two men. 

The older man politely cleared his throat, drawing their attention. "I'm sorry to interrupt. Connor, could I talk to you for a sec?"

The android replicated a surprised and then happy smile on his face. "Hi, Dad. Sure." He turned back to Rhodey. "Excuse me. I'll be right back."

At the Colonel's nod, Connor turned and followed Hank. The man led them toward a relatively empty, back section of the room. 

Hank sighed and leaned up against the wall, Connor following suit. The older man glanced around, making sure no one was listening, and leaned in, discreetly holding out his hand toward the android.

"I got it." Hank hurriedly whispered. 

Connor's brows dipped as he reached for the item the other man held. "Got what?"

The android's eyes widened as his processor identified the object as a cell phone. He blinked slowly. Twice. 

"Is this Dietrich's phone?"

Hank smirked proudly. "Yup."

"H-How?" Connor blinked stupidly again.

The older man scoffed. "Con, I've done plenty of undercover assignments before." His hand cut through the air and he chuckled. "I have experience pickpocketing. Stick with me kid, you'll learn a thing or two." Hank gave him a cheeky grin. 

Connor smiled widely and shoved his hand holding the cell phone into his pocket. He peeled back his artificial skin and initiated a connection with the phone so that he could clone it. 

Establishing Connection...

Infiltrating Firewall...

Cloning Initiated

"Hank, I'm impressed."

The older man snickered quietly. "You should be." He pitched his body forward. "Old school works too."

"I think the key word there is 'old.'"

"Oh!" Hank's face morphed in mock insult. "Alright, baby face. I see how it is."

Connor grinned smugly. "I'm surprised you can see anything, given your advanced age."

The older man chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. "I walked into that one, didn't I?"

Cloning Complete

Disconnecting....

"Yes, you really did." The android straightened up off of the wall. "All done. I've cloned the phone. Now, I need to put this back."

Hank nodded, serious and back in undercover mode. "I'll be a distraction if you need me."

With their plan set, they started the trek across the crowded room toward Dietrich.

Just as Connor was skillfully slipping the phone back into the Hydra agent's pocket, the man started to turn right toward him. 

The android's thirium pump lurched, his processor scrambling to come up with some kind of excuse, a dialogue prompt, anything, when Hank let out an obnoxiously loud laugh that distracted everyone within a ten foot radius.

The older man then immediately pretended to be searching for the source of the noise with everyone else. 

It worked, somehow, and Connor was able to finish the drop.

Now they could enjoy the rest of the party. 

Connor sighed angrily as he leaned back on one of the far walls again.

He did not like anger, but the android was pretty sure that was all he was feeling after being insulted twelve times in three minutes and six seconds, all while trying to speak to someone outside of Stark Industries that seemed genuinely interested in his work.

Unfortunately, this conversation also included Dr. Jonathan Bauer. 

Anger was one of the first emotions Connor had ever felt and he still wasn't sure what to do with it.

It made him want to punch something or break Bauer in half for being such an ass.

Neither of which he could do right now.

Unfortunately.

"Well, that was a loaded sigh. Do you want to talk about it?"

Connor turned to face the tall, accented man next to him.

"Lael of Asgard." The man bowed slightly.

The android inclined his head. "Connor Anderson."

Lael slouched against the wall too and nodded towards Dr. Bauer.

Connor grunted. Bauer reminded him of Detective Reed. The man was abusive, arrogant, rude, condescending and he went out of his way to make Connor's life miserable.

His eyes narrowed as the Doctor attempted to sweet talk another rich socialite.

The man's behavior toward everyone in their department, and Connor especially, had only gotten worse after Tony Stark had requested that the android come to his lab and help him with a project.

And after Bauer found out that Connor, who had only been working for Stark Industries for five months, was invited to attend the same function that the Doctor was, the man's attitude had plummeted even further. This was the first time Bauer had been invited to such an event and the man had been working for the company for almost ten years.

"He's jealous." Connor eventually said. "He doesn't like that anyone could be smarter than he is and he likes stepping all over people that he deems beneath him."

Lael nodded in understanding and turned a shark-like grin on Connor before motioning toward the Doctor.

"Shall we have a little bit of fun then?"

Connor eventually settled on bribing the bartender to mix up a drink with a few spoonfuls of salt in it. He then paid a waiter to deliver the drink to Dr. Bauer, under the guise that someone had bought the arrogant man a cocktail.

Of course, Bauer and his ego readily believed that.

The man immediately spit it out, cursing loudly and spilling a good amount of the drink down his shirt. All the Stark Industries staff that were nearby tried to laugh discreetly, but many of them were not successful. Bauer was not a well liked man.

Once the Doctor stopped sputtering, somehow the man's slacks slipped from his hips and pooled around his ankles, revealing his Iron Man boxers.

Bauer turned beet red as he floundered with his pants and eventually made a break for the men's room.

Lael laughed softly next to a cackling, almost bent-in-half Connor.

Toward the end of the party, Steve found himself with Sam and Natasha again. The former Captain was grateful that he didn't have to schmooze anyone else for the night and that he could just relax with his friends.

"So, back to being a red-head?" Sam asked from his right.

Natasha, standing across from them both and casually watching the people around the room, shook her head. "It's dirty blonde now."

Wilson opened his mouth, but the woman beat him too it. "It's a wig, Sam. I do like some anonymity."

Steve smirked. "Speaking of, how's Hell's Kitchen? I hear there's a special someone in your life now too."

Sam's interest was immediately piqued and Natasha looked away from them, unable to fully suppress her smile. "Clint's big mouth." she mumbled.

Roger's brows raised, surprised by the genuine happiness he saw on her face.

"He's..." Natasha trailed off, redirecting her focus on the two men in front of her. "He's a good man."

Steve nodded and glanced around. He noticed Connor Anderson standing at a high table not far from them. Next to the young man, was a grey-haired police officer and judging by the proximity of the two men, Rogers guessed the officer to be Connor's father.

He did promise Tony he'd try to vet the older man tonight and, if he was totally honest, he was worried about the kid too.

"Hey!" Hank's aggravated voice cut through Steve's thoughts.

He gently slapped away Connor's hand from his drink. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

The kid smirked teasingly. "I just wanted to taste it, Hank."

The older man rolled his eyes and groaned. "I swear, Con. You're worse than a two year old." He dragged a hand down his face. "And I'd know. I had one." Hank said in clear exasperation.

Steve frowned. He recalled the young man telling him that he'd met Hank when he was old enough to run away from his mother. Rogers didn't remember Connor saying anything about siblings.

The kid's smile grew fond. Steve would probably call it loving and Hank sighed, sliding his glass towards the brunette.

Connor smirked and took a small sip, before thanking the older man. Hank grumbled under his breath about the kid being disgusting.

The young man simply laughed and patted his father's shoulder. "How many is this?" Connor indicated the drink he was continuing to "just taste."

Hank leveled him with an impressive glare that lessened after a few seconds. "Two. And they're watered down, so I don't think it counts." He crossed his arms defensively. "I think all this should really just count as one."

Connor nodded and pushed away from the table, taking the older man's drink with him. "I'll get you another."

Hank shook his head, a warm smile grabbing his lips.

Steve figured that now was as good a time as any and excused himself from Sam and Natasha.

He cleared his throat as he stepped up to Hank's table and extended his hand. "Thank you for your service. Mind if I ask what precinct you belong to? I'm Steve Rogers, by the way."

The older man shook his hand. "Captain America?"

"Retired." Nodding, Steve shrugged. 

"Detective Hank Anderson, 17th Precinct."

He pretended to consider the older man for a moment before tilting his head to the side. "Any relation to a Connor Anderson? He's an employee at Stark Industries. I think he's here tonight actually."

Hank chuckled and gave him a look that clearly indicated that the jig was up. "Really?"

Steve smiled depreciatingly and lifted his shoulders again.

Hank pointed at the bar where Connor was placing an order with the bartender. "He's getting more drinks."

"Listen, while the kid's over there, I just wanted to say-" Hank paused, looking back over to his son. "He told me about your conversation in the park. I just wanted to say thank you." The older man looked Steve in the eye. "Not many people would take the time to talk with someone like that, especially someone they barely know. It was a kind thing you did."

Steve swallowed, ready to tell Hank that anyone would have done the same, but the older man raised a hand to stop him.

"Connor has known a lot of bad people in his life. Thank you for showing him that not everyone is a monster. Thank you for looking out for my son."

Rogers kept Hank's gaze, seeing no lie or insincerity in his expression. This was the look of a father who loved his son and worried about him.

Steve nodded.

"Thank you." Hank repeated himself with conviction.

They didn't speak of it again as Connor, followed by Sam and Natasha, came back to the table where they chatted quietly for the rest of the night.

Steve would have to remember to grill Nat on her new boyfriend later.

Connor added a new, online alias to their Hydra board that night, thanks to their undercover pickpocketing.

It seemed like a lot of work for just that scrap of information, but it was worth it. 

One step closer. 

Chapter Text

August 2019

It wasn't his fault. Really. 

Ok, maybe Connor could have been paying more attention to his surroundings, but he'd been planning the movie marathon he and Hank were having tonight.

It was "Father/Son Hangout Night," after all.

He was torn between the Die Hard series and the Lethal Weapon series. Hank had said that he liked both and the android could pick whichever one he wanted.

However, since the older man so graciously gave him free rein of the movies, that also meant Connor was in charge of tonight's food as well. 

He'd been juggling a lot of groceries and movie synopses when it happened.

The android groaned.

Hank was going to murder him.

But again, This Was Not His Fault.

He really needed to drive that point home when the older man got here. 

Deviancy had done strange things to Connor's processor.

And really, if anyone was to blame, it was the cab driver, not the android's inability to be aware of his surroundings every second of every day like he had been able to before deviancy.

Connor had seen the white crossing sign and he had known, obviously, that it was his turn to cross the street.

He guessed the driver didn't agree with him or maybe the man was just distracted.

Distraction was the more likely scenario given vehicular accident statistics.

Humans' attentions were easily diverted by inane things like cell phones, other people, the sky, animals...

To be fair, Connor's been distracted by many, many dogs in the last eight months. 

They're all just so amazing. 

Anyway, he had been in the intersection, the cab had hit him and once he'd managed to clear some of his Damage Warnings and Error Messages enough for him to actually move, the android had taken off running.

Limp-Running.

Whatever.

With his groceries of course, he wasn't an idiot.

He really wanted to try those chocolate covered pretzels Hank kept raving about. Apparently, salty and sweet was just "to die for."

And Connor knew he couldn't be taken to a hospital or anything, so he had run even as the cab driver yelled after him to see if he was alright. 

Plus, one minute and eight seconds prior to his up close and personal introduction with the taxi, the android had received a Twitter notification alerting him that Spider-Man had been spotted in the area. 

Extra motivation to get the hell out of there. 

He really didn't want to deal with any annoying and cover-blowing questions like, "Sir, why is your blood blue?"

Speaking of, Connor definitely left a small trail of blue blood as he fled, but he had managed to quickly reroute his thirium lines to stop the worst of the bleeding until Hank could help with the repairs. 

Connor's right shoulder was dislocated.

His skull and cheekbone had hairline fractures- right side of course.

His right optical unit was damaged too, blue blood leaking into the socket.

Right hip fractured.

Right knee fractured.

Various abrasions all over his body.

Damaged Rib.

Damaged Biocomponent #AV251.

There were so many repeating Damage Warnings and Error Messages filling up his HUD, but Connor really couldn't do anything about that until Hank helped with his shoulder. His arm was useless until it was back in the socket. 

Error: Unable to Establish Connection with Right Arm

Yes, thank you, processor. Thank you for the reminder. Again. He had forgotten in the last two seconds that he couldn't use his arm. Thank you so very much. 

The android sighed heavily and leaned his head back against couch, thankful that he'd miraculously been able to make it home without drawing too much attention.

His aviator sunglasses with a strategic grocery bags placement and a discarded 7-11 slushie cup he'd found in an alley proved to be enough of a disguise.

He's so glad they got dropped in the middle of New York where weird sights like a limping man splashed with blue, slushie stains were an everyday occurrence, and not some small town where everybody was up in everybody's business. 

Connor glanced at the clock on the wall, not wanting to fill his HUD with anymore information.

Hank should be home in roughly ten minutes.  Hopefully less.

Damage to Biocompoment #AV251

His right "lung" was probably nicked by his bent-out-of-shape rib that was digging painfully into it.

Connor groaned again and tried very hard not to really breathe unless he needed too.  Hank should be home soon and his internal temperature probably won't raise that much while he waited.

The android toed of his right shoe, stretched out his damaged leg and rested it on the coffee table in front of him. 

Somehow, this position helped. 

Connor angled his head toward the door as he heard keys jingle from the hall. The lock turned and Hank distractedly entered the apartment, eyes on the phone in his hands. 

"Hi, Hank." The android's soft, tired greeting startled the older man. Steel blue eyes jumped up in alarm, Hank's hand flying to his chest. 

"Connor!" The older man cursed, eyes widening. "What happened?" He quickly turned around and locked the door behind him. Instinct seemed to kick in and Hank sped to the kitchen, grabbing the "Android First Aid Kit" they kept under the sink.

When he returned, the older man's eyes flicked over Connor's body, no doubt noticing the half-dried blood from his many abrasions.

He looked at the android uncertainly and just now noticed the dark, blackish tinge of Connor's right eye.

Hank cringed. "Where do I start? Anything critical?"

Grimacing, Connor shook his head, pain no doubt clear on his face. "My shoulder has been dislocated." He gestured with his left hand. "It needs to be set before we can proceed with repairs on my right air ventil- ... on my right lung," He corrected himself to translate into Hank-Speak.

The older man nodded along as Connor explained exactly how to relocate an android's arm: pull, twist and push back.

Hank squared the android with a nervous, yet determined look. He clearly didn't like seeing the android in pain and really didn't want to be the cause of anymore, but knew this needed to be done.

"Ready?" The older man asked as he gripped the android's arm, rough fingers pressing into synthetic skin.

Connor exhaled shakily and nodded. He turned off his vocal unit manually, just in case. 

Hank readjusted his hold. "On Three. One, two -" 

The older man pulled, twisted and pushed as quickly as he dared. 

Connor instinctually pulled away from the pain, hunching in on himself to try to get away. No noise escaped his clenched jaw except for a short burst of feedback he couldn't quite suppress.

Hank's forehead creased in worry.

Connection to Right Arm Re-Established

Warning: Damage to Biocomponent #AV251

Warning: Increased Internal Temperature

After a few moments of the android desperately trying to take some deep, painful breaths, Hank broke the silence. 

"Are you having trouble breathing? You're breathing kinda hard, Con."

"You said 'On three.'" His voice static and feedback filled, Connor smiled tiredly. More of a grimace really, he could tell. He couldn't quite get his synthetic facial muscles to do what he wanted. "I need- " he cut himself off, trying again for a shorter explanation. " 'm too hot."

Hank nodded in understanding before grunting. "Yeah, well." He shrugged in lieu of an answer, but then seemed to think better of it. "Humans tense up their muscles. Makes things worse. Didn't know if it would be the same or not."  His eyes roved around the rest of the damage.  "Ok, what's next?"

"My-" Connor struggled, release a short, airy breath and took another as he tried to move himself back against the couch. 

Hank reached forward and helped guide the android back. 

"My rib is bent into my lung. It has damaged the 'lung' biocomponent. We need to heat the rib, bend it back into place and then close the tear in the lung. You'll need the soldering iron."

Hank blinked slowly, no doubt processing Connor's plan of attack. The older man's eyes widened and grew panicked, but the android knew Hank wasn't a cop for nothing. The man was good in a crisis.

And Connor would really, really categorize this as a crisis.

Hank abruptly turned and dug through the kit, quickly locating what he needed. He plugged in the soldering iron. "What're your thirium levels?" 

The android's eyes darted around, clearing redundant Error Messages for a few moments before finding the information he needed. "Eighty-two percent and dropping."

Seeing the immediately distressed look on the older man's face, Connor added, "Slowly, very slowly," in an attempt to reassure him. 

The android gasped as he tried to sit up again and felt the misshapped rib dig further into his lung. He released a gruff whine and Hank moved forward to help him. 

Warning: Damage to Biocomponent #AV251

"What're you doing, kid? You gotta stop moving around." The older man's brow pulled down. 

Connor reached for the hem of his t-shirt and started trying to pull it up, before his hands were gently swatted away. Hank did the remaining work of wrestling off his t-shirt. 

Stress Level: 81%

"I have to open my chest, Hank. I'm- I'm sorry. I know this makes you uncomfortable and I would do it myself if I- if I could, but I need your help to complete the repairs."

The android looked down at his hands. He had hoped Hank would never see anything more than those without his synthetic skin. 

Now, the older man was going to be doing something along the lines of exploratory surgery in Connor's chest cavity. 

He knew that Hank saw him like a son, the man had said as much many times over the last eight months.

Yet, a small, terrified part of Connor wondered if things would change after this, if the man would see him as more android than son once this was done. 

The android breathed out unsteadily, trying to mentally prepare himself for what seemed all but inevitable.

Hank's callused hand landed gently on Connor's bare shoulder and the older man hunched a little to catch his eyes. 

"Son, I'm uncomfortable because it's your insides and the insides are supposed to be inside." He kept Connor's gaze. "I'm not uncomfortable because you've got biocomponents instead of organs."

Stress Level: 58%

Connor searched Hank's face, marveling at the man's ability to cut to the heart of his worries like he always did.

All the android could see was love in Hank's eyes and Connor nodded. A lone tear, either from relief, stress, pain or something he couldn't identify yet, escaped his left eye. His right was too damaged to function properly at the moment. 

The older man's hand moved to cup Connor's neck and jaw, Hank's thumb swiping at the moisture on his cheek.

He squeezed gently. "Let's do this, ok?"

The android nodded and Hank helped him lay down flat on the couch, the older man taking a seat across from him on the coffee table. Connor deactivated the skin on his chest and pressing down there with both hands, gently pushing the panels apart to reveal his beating heart and expanding lungs. A small amount of blue blood leaked from his chest, no doubt from the damage he had sustained.

Hank made a surprised noise and grabbed one of the blankets from the couch to soak up the dripping thirium.

Connor released a shaky exhale and pointed to the damage.

"You will need to heat up this rib and then use the pliers to bend the metal back into shape." Connor licked his lips and swallowed unnecessarily. His throat was so dry. "Just- just make sure you don't overheat the rib or anything surrounding it."

Stress Level: 69%

Hank's lips pressed into a thin line before he twisted and grabbed the iron. He leaned over Connor, shifted for a better angle and got to work. 

Stress Level: 73%

Connor breathed in through his nose and slowly blew the air out of his mouth. His heart beat drastically picked up its pace. 

Stress Level: 81%

Unbidden, Connor recalled a horrifying memory of when a CyberLife technician had her hands in his- Model 26's- chest. The android had felt the woman's fingers rooting around his biocomponents, pushing "nerve" clusters, sensors and wires around. 

That day, she had soldered something in his chest, too.

Connor hadn't cared then, but now the memory of the ordeal was overwhelming and something he tried desperately not to think about. 

He didn't like this. 

Frustrated and unsatisfied with her work, that technician had forcefully ripped out his thirium pump and he'd shutdown, died, forty-three seconds later.

Stress Level: 86%

The android was barely aware of Hank setting down the soldering iron and grabbing the pliers. He saw, but couldn't comprehend the narrow-eyed look of concern the man gave him as Connor's thirium pump raced even faster. 

He could almost feel the ghost of her fingers, all the fingers of the technicians that had worked on him, as Hank gently coaxed his rib back into place.

Stress Level: 92%

The older man pulled back, sighed and went to grab the iron again, probably to patch up his lung next.

It was too much.

Stress Level: 94%

"Stop! Stop, stopstopstop- please, please stop." Connor's hand darted out to grab Hank's, the soldering iron on, but now hanging motionless in the air. "Please, Hank. D-Dad. Please, make it stop." He squeezed his eyes shut, tears falling freely from the left. 

His chest stuttered as a panicked sob escaped him. Despite the repairs, it felt like he was being crushed. 

He heard the iron being set down and he felt the couch dip as Hank sat beside him. The older man leaned in close above him and braced his forearms on the couch cushions. His arms slid down next to each of Connor's shoulders and his hands rested on either side of the android's face. Hank's thumbs stroked his cheeks. 

It was as much of a hug as the older man could give him with Connor's chest open and exposed the way that it was.

Hank whispered comfortingly to him, telling him that it was going to be alright, and he raised his arms to grip the older man's biceps. 

"Take a breath, Connor. Slow and steady. You're alright. I've got you."

The android did his best to comply and after Hank prompted him a few more times, it was a little bit easier. 

"I've got you son."

Stress Level: 89%

"You're ok, kid."

Connor sighed, trembling erratically, and his eyes fluttered open to meet clear blue. Hank's face was close to his and creased with worry, but the man grinned when he saw the android meet his gaze.

Hank's eyes flicked down for a second, to Connor's frantically beating thirium pump, and then back. 

"Your heart's going crazy, Con. What's your stress level?"

 

Stress Level: 87%

"Eighty-sev'n." the android answered and swallowed thickly, his lips having trouble forming the words.

Hank nodded. "Why don't we wait for that to drop a little before I try to fix up your lung?" 

Connor shook his head. "M- my thirium levels are dropping from the leak, n-now that it's not being plugged by the rib." He exhaled slowly, trying to calm his racing heart. "You should finish sooner rather than later."

Hank bit his lip and cursed but quickly agreed, making Connor promise to tell him if his stress went above ninety. The older man didn't move from his new position on the couch as he soldered the tear in his lung and he still didn't move when Connor closed up his chest. The android kept his hand firmly gripped on Hank's knee the entire time.

"Ok," the older man rested his palm in Connor's free hand. "What's next?"

Comforted by the gesture, the android shook his head. "Nothing. The abrasions and fractures I have sustained to my head, cheek, hip and knee will mend on their own with my self-healing protocol." He sighed tiredly. "It will just take time."

He still felt anxious from the repairs, but having Hank so close was helping. 

The older man nodded. "What happened, son?"

Connor looked away sheepishly, knowing what he was really be asked, but not wanting to talk about it.

Even though he knew he should.

"I was hit by a car."

Hank's eyes jumped in surprise. "Not what I meant, but we'll revisit that later."

The android looked down at his chest and touched the spot over his thirium pump. 

Connor didn't even know how to explain this. "I- I remember." His eyes narrowed in concentration and the older man's brow lifted, prompting him to continue. "I am RK800 313 248 317-52. Part of my model's function is transferable memory from model to model."

"It would be a useful feature if an RK800 was destroyed mid-investigation and a new model had to take its place. The memories and data would just be transferred."

Hank nodded in understanding, so the android continued. "There are also some things that cannot be programmed into a CPU and must be 'learned.'"

Connor met the older man's eyes. "I remember all of it, one through fifty-one. I..." he hesitated, looking for the right word, "died, many times. My model was stress tested and some shutdowns were caused because I hadn't learned something yet."

Hank's face morphed with abject horror before his brows furrowed tightly together. "Stress tests?" he ground out between clenched teeth. 

Connor nodded and explained. "They wanted to see how much my model could withstand. Heat, cold, pressure, water intake, thirium loss, damaged biocomponents."

"And the 'hadn't learned something yet?'" The older man's face went carefully blank. 

"There- there was one time when they taught me that attacks can come from multiple fronts. I was shot from behind then. And another time, while learning pursuit driving, the fleeing vehicle t-boned my car. I was not expecting him to double back around. I think-" he paused, "I think they may have also let me keep those memories to ensure I would deviate in the end."

Hank's eyes blazed with barely suppressed rage. He abruptly stood and started pacing from the couch, to the door and back like a caged animal.

Or like a parent whose child had been hurt. 

"So," Hank whirled on the android, "you remember them... working on your insides?"

Connor nodded and propped himself up on his elbows. "I'm sorry, Hank." he whispered. 

All the fight seemed to drain out of the older man and he slumped before making his way back to the couch.

"It's not your fault, kid. None of this is your fault. I just have a lot more people I need to seriously maim when we get back home." Hank said with all seriousness. 

Connor smirked and huffed a laugh. "Maybe I can help?"

The older man chuckled, patting him on the shoulder. "Sure, kid. Are you sure there's nothing I can do to help you with the rest of this?" He gestured to Connor's whole body. 

The android pointed to the thirium that he'd left out on the coffee table this morning and Hank opened the bottle so Connor could drink the electric blue liquid. 

The android sat up fully, carefully moving his feet to rest on the floor, and accepted the bottle.

"Ok, I'll grab you a new change of clothes and a pillow and some blankets. Is there anything that you need to do to help with your recovery?"

Connor took another sip of thirium and looked away, embarrassed. 

"Son?" the older man prompted. 

"Repairs would go quicker if I- if I deactivated my skin." the android quietly admitted. He felt like his chest was being squeezed again and he fiddled with the drink in his hands. 

Hank looked completely unconcerned by the revelation. He shrugged. "Ok. Do it, kid. I'll go grab your stuff."

And with that, the man was off down the hall.

Connor grinned and after a moment's hesitation, let his synthetic skin and hair deactivate to reveal the white plastimetal underneath.

Subconsciously, his thirium pump beat just a bit faster as Hank came back around the corner, carrying the bedding and clothes in his hands. 

The older man's eyes widened from the sudden change, but Hank smiled. "Looks good on you, kid."

He placed the clothes on Connor's lap, put the blanket and pillow beside him, and reached out a hand to rub the android's head affectionately. 

The older man whistled. "Damn, that's smooth. Not sure what else I was expecting though."

He gracelessly dropped down on the couch as Connor gingerly slipped on the older man's NYPD sweatshirt that Hank had grabbed.

Once his head was through, he noticed the older man eyeing him curiously.

Before Connor even had a chance to worry about his authentic, skinless appearance, Hank asked, "Can you change your hair color?"

The android froze for a second, before nodding slowly. "I can." He paused. "Should I?"

The older man shrugged again. "I like it the way it is, but it's your hair, kid. You gotta decide that."

Connor hummed.

"Did you figure out what movie you wanted to watch tonight?" Hank reached over and adjusted the blanket around Connor's body, effectively tucking him in.

The android gave him a blinding smile. "Die Hard, and I want to try those pretzels tonight." 

Hank smirked and Connor grabbed his hand. "Thank you, Dad. For everything."

The older man nodded, gently put an arm around the android's shoulders and pulled him close. Hank turned to face him, eyes wide. "So, you got hit by a car?" 

Connor cringed. Damn it.

Chapter Text

August 2019

"So, tell me again. Why are you making us breakfast?" Jim shoved a large piece of maple syrup coated waffle into his mouth.

Aveline rolled her eyes for the fifth time in the last nine minutes. At this rate, she was averaging one eye roll every minute and forty-eight seconds.

"Con is practicing making breakfast for Hank's birthday." She turned toward the android. "I think it's really sweet that you're doing this, especially since you were so sick all last week." The redhead took a bite of fresh strawberry from the top of her waffle stack.

Connor closed the waffle iron on a new spoonful of batter. "I'm feeling much better now." He paused, thankful that his self-healing protocol was so efficient. All his systems were repaired to full functionality and he had no lingering effects from his collision with the taxi.

"The first time I tried to make Hank waffles, it did not go well. I caused a small fire in the kitchen." He turned to look sheepishly at his friends who were enjoying their breakfast at the table.

"I was banned from the kitchen for a while after that."

Aveline tried to unsuccessfully stifle her chuckle with a hand over her smiling lips, but Jim stared open-mouthed at the android. From this angle, everyone else in the room had an unpleasant view of the half-chewed "train wreck" in his mouth.

Connor learned that specific term one day when Hank had turned to him, mid-breakfast, and asked, "Hey, do you wanna see a train wreck?"

The android had regrets. So many regrets.

The redhead leaned across the table and whacked their friend on the back of the head.

Connor tried not to grin too widely at Jim's expense.

A few days after the revolution, the android had asked Hank what breakfast was his favorite. After a long conversation where the older man tried to reiterate to Connor that he didn't have to do that, the android explained that he didn't feel like he was serving Hank. He wanted to do it.

The Lieutenant caved, unable to say no to Connor when he used the word "want," and the man had answered that he liked waffles best.

Everything went well up until it didn't and they found out that the smoke detectors' batteries were all dead.

That had sent the android into a cleaning/organizing/home maintenance frenzy for the next week.

Weirdly, Hank still ate the burnt waffles that night.

Connor's still not sure why.

Shortly after "The Kitchen Incident of '38," the android downloaded a lot of information from the AX400 database and became a much more proficient cook.

Hank had watched Connor like a hawk the next time he had ventured into the kitchen to cook for the older man.

That meal went fairly well with only one thing being burned. The advanced prototype had gotten distracted by Sumo's kisses.

Connor smiled. That had been less than a year ago, but he couldn't tell his friends that. He needed to say something though, based on the look Jim was giving him.

The android leaned against the counter he was making breakfast on. "I was ten when that happened." At Jim's still frozen expression, he added, "I hadn't really cooked anything before then."

Aveline chuckled again and that seemed to snap Jim out of the man's thoughts of an impending kitchen fire.

"Well, I'm more of a pancake man myself, but these are really good. Might be the best waffles I've ever had, actually." Jim took another large bite and Aveline enthusiastically hummed in agreement.

Connor opened the iron and removed the last waffle. He tilted his head to the side in consideration. "Hank says that waffles are pancakes with abs. Maybe that's why he likes them better." He shrugged and unplugged the appliance.

Humans, and Hank in particular, were weird.

Jim laughed so suddenly he choked on his food. The man slapped a hand over his mouth as Aveline and he doubled over with laughter.

Connor smiled, grabbed a waffle for himself and added the fresh banana and strawberry slices before heading over to the table to join his friends.

Hank sighed as the keys slipped from his fingers and fell to the floor.

The older man stared despondently down at them, far too tired to be dealing with this crap. He just finished his second double shift in three days. He was so tired he could barely think.

Hank groaned as he bent at the waist to grab his keys and grinned triumphantly when he managed to finally get his door open. He froze at the unexpected sight before him.

Jim Vega was perched on the arm of his couch, Aveline Vallen was seated at the kitchen table and Connor...

Well, Connor was standing in the kitchen and packing up a bunch of Tupperware, each filled to the brim with food, into one of the large canvas bags they used for grocery shopping.

The strangest thing of all was the expression on Connor's face.

The android had stopped dead in his tracks, frozen with a Tupperware held in one hand above the bag. His eyes were blown wide, like a kid that's just been caught with their hand in the cookie jar.

The older man could almost see the old, swirling, yellow/red LED.

Hank's eyes narrowed, but he purposely relaxed his expression. All three kids looked surprised to see him.

He closed the door behind him and waved at everyone. "Hey." The older man checked his watch. "Don't you guys have work soon?"

Jim popped up off his seat and, standing, Aveline answered. "Yeah. We're leaving in a few minutes, Mr. Anderson."

Hank sighed. "I told you guys last time you stopped by, 'Mr. Anderson' makes me feel very old. It's just Hank." His eyes flicked over to Connor. The kid had smoothed out his expression and was almost done packing the bag.

"Hank, we are having a potluck at work that I forgot to tell you about." the android said in way of explanation. He inclined his head slightly. "I have left you some for lunch today."

Connor finished, picked up the bag, and walked towards the front door that Hank was still standing in front of.

The kid grabbed his messenger bag and Aveline and Jim followed after him. All three said their goodbyes and made their way out of the apartment.

After the door closed again, Hank surveyed the room, hands on his hips. Nothing seemed out of place except for Connor's weird behavior. Maybe the kid was embarrassed at having his friends over.

The older man shook his head. Maybe he just needed a nap. Doubles were the worst.

They took a late lunch today and Peter came with them. Because of the teenager's increased metabolism, Connor estimated that Peter needed to eat three to four times as much as a typical male of his age.

That being said, the android did a little digging into May Parker's financials.

Connor grimaced a bit at the thought of his illegal activity, but, well, he was worried about them.

Peter was a vigilante and he really did eat a lot. The teen was always snacking and he always had a new backpack and new notebooks. The android suspected that Peter was storing his Spider-Man suit in the backpacks and then inferred that the teenager was hiding the bags when he out in the suit to patrol.

And either Peter had a terrible memory and forgot where he was putting them, which was unlikely, or they kept getting stolen.

These things eventually added up and Peter was his friend. May did very well saving and budgeting her single income, but Connor knew there were definitely some things he could do to help ease the financial burden.

So, he's been experimenting more with recipes and bringing them into work. Connor really does enjoy cooking and he likes taking care of the people he cares about.

And yes, he promised his friends that if they came over extra early to help him with the waffles recipe today, he would also give them lunch.

Aveline and Jim had told him that lunch wasn't necessary, but he wanted to anyway.

He also made enough for Peter to eat, too.

And apple crisp for them all for dessert, which was Hank's favorite.

Last week, Connor finally found a healthy, organic, apple crisp recipe that actually tasted like apple crisp.

He was very excited about Hank's birthday.

Peter moaned dramatically as he took another forkful of the dessert. "What's in this? It tastes just like the real thing."

Jim leaned forward, talking around his food. "And it's healthy?"

Connor nodded. "Apples, bananas, oats, lemon, cinnamon and salt."

"Seriously?" Aveline asked incredulously.

Connor smirked and inclined his head. Based on their expressions and the android's scans of their micro expressions, he'd say that this dessert was a success.

September 6th, 2019

Hank's return to consciousness was brought on by feeling the side of his bed dipping down as someone made themselves comfortable.

Still on his side, the man's brows dipped in confusion, not awake enough to comprehend what was going on.

Connor sighed next to him and it was like a light went on in his brain.

Adrenaline flooded his veins and his heart started beating rapidly. The only time Connor came to lay in Hank's bed was when the android was freaking out.

The older man's eyes snapped open and he rolled over and sat up in one uncoordinated motion.

Connor blinked and the TV popped on.

Two trays were resting on the foot of the bed, filled with food.

The android had a peaceful, happy look on his face as he turned toward Hank.

"Good morning and happy birthday, Dad."

The older man's heart pounded loudly in his ears and he blinked uncomprehendingly at the kid.

Happy birt- oh!

Connor frowned and his gaze sharpened onto him. "Are you alright, Hank? My scanners-"

Hank sighed and let out a gruff chuckle. His eyes blurred and his throat suddenly felt constricted. "I'm good, kid. You're ok, right?" He scrubbed a rough hand down his face, making sure no moisture was left behind.

Connor leaned back against the headboard. "I am. I didn't mean to scare you." He trailed off quietly, still regarding the older man with concern.

Hank waved him off and gestured towards the trays. "What's all this?"

The android relaxed and smiled as Hank pushed himself back to the headboard too. Connor reached for the trays.

"Breakfast. Your favorite, I believe."

On the tray, the kid had put a stack of waffles with syrup, butter, strawberries, banana and a decent amount of whip cream. Beside all that was a white mug with a sparkly, red bow.

The new mug read, "You're the man, Dad. An old man, but still the man."

Hank chuckled as he dug into his breakfast. "Thanks, kid. This is great."

Hank had thought that was going to be it for the day, but he was wrong. Connor made him get dressed in jeans, sneakers and a long sleeved shirt. Similarly dressed, the kid met him at the apartment door with a smile, practically bouncing in place with excitement.

Without any explanation from the android, they headed out the door and entered the Uber the kid had called with his brain. Over the course of the next hour, the older man kept trying to ask where they were going, but all Connor would do was quote Yoda.

"Patience you must have, my young Padawan."

Hank rolled his eyes, regretting ever showing the android the Star Wars movies. Ok, not really, but still...

Finally, the Uber slowed, came to a stop and dropped them off at an outdoor, paintball complex on Staten Island.

The older man couldn't help the wide smile that grew on his face. When he turned to the kid, he saw a matching expression.

Hank and Connor rented their equipment and got themselves suited up. A member of the paintball staff brought them outside, where they joined another group of four and a group of two.

The staff member explained all the rules and broke them up into teams. Hank and Connor and the other group of two were going to face off against the group of four.

They exchanged names and quite frankly, Hank didn't care to learn them. He knew his android was storing all that information away somewhere and he really didn't need to know it.

The older man's brain identified the teams as him and Connor with the adventurous, "couples that CrossFit together, stay together" girl and guy versus the four, frat bro, peaked-in-high-school dudes.

Wonderful. Hank's favorite type of people.

So, they were going to play three matches today; a team deathmatch with four verse four, a match of capture the flag consisting of four verse four again, and a cargo/convoy game of two verse six.

And of course, Connor enthusiastically volunteered he and Hank to be the team of two for the last game.

In team deathmatch, Hank's team just barely won.

When he had looked at the android and motioned to the numerous paint splatters covering the kid, Connor glanced down at himself with a wide, unconcerned smile and shrugged pleasantly.

Despite losing, the other team of four, macho blockheads started trash talking, saying that they were going to crush Hank, Connor and their two teammates.

The same thing happened with the next game of capture the flag. The older man's team narrowly won the match, and the taunts from the group of opposing idiots became significantly more aggressive.

Hank flipped them off.

Again, Connor was covered in paint and seemed completely unbothered by their near loss.

The older man shook his head at the kid's carefree attitude, though he did notice Connor's eyes narrowing at the insults. The android was usually much more competitive, if their nights of Super Smash Bros. and Mario Kart were anything to go by.

Generally, the kid wasn't just satisfied with winning. He enjoyed slaughtering the competition, namely Hank. 

When it came time for the cargo/convoy match of the Andersons versus everyone else, the other side was convinced that this was going to be an easily won game.

Hank was kind of thinking the same thing too.

The kid had been covered with paintballs and seemed to be doing the worst out of them all, which was surprising. He was thinking that maybe paintball wasn't in the android's repertoire somehow, but as they turned to take the "package" that they needed to deliver across the playing field without being killed, Hank caught sight of Connor.

A positively predatorial smile was plastered on the kid's face.

The older man gaped at him and instantly knew that the android had been hustling the other team all along.

He grabbed the kid's arm and marched them out of ear shot of the others.

"What are you doing?" Hank chuckled.

Connor's smile relaxed a little. "I was just trying to have fun for the first game, but then Jack," he pointed at the group of morons, "the tall one that looks like he has repeatedly skipped leg day, started saying highly inappropriate things about all of us, especially you and I. I've decided I'm going to teach him in particular a lesson today." The android stood up a little straighter and Hank laughed harder, glancing back at Jack. 

Yup, definitely skipped leg day.

Of course, the two of them won by a mile. Each player on the other team had three lives and Connor and Hank only had one life each. It seemed so unfair before they started, but the other team should have had more lives.

The kid escorted Hank and the package across the complex, taking all six of the opposing team out three times each as they went. The older man was amazed at the way Connor moved with such precision and accuracy. Hank sometimes forgot just how deadly the kid could be, what he was made for. 

He was blown away by the performance and so very happy that Connor had developed his own free will.

Neither he nor the kid had gotten tagged once that round and toothpicks-for-legs got shot in some sensitive, non-life threatening places. 

Jack and his original teammates had not been happy at their final loss and had almost started a fist fight when Connor wouldn't stop grinning like a shark.

And he didn't until long after they left.

The smile looked good on the kid and the older man was happy to see it there. 

They took an Uber back to the apartment, showered off the dirt and grime and changed into clean clothes. At the android's prompting, made their way back out with a promise of a special, dessert related surprise for later.

Hank tried bugging the kid about their next destination, but Connor was being surprisingly tight-lipped about it. The android kept miming zipping up his lips.

Hank rolled his eyes. Where did he learn that?

Wherever they were going he hoped they had food, he was starving.

The older man didn't have to wait long, though. A few blocks from their apartment, Connor held open the door to Hank's favorite whole-in-the-wall Thai restaurant.

He grinned at the kid's thoughtfulness and made his way inside.

They were seated and placed their orders before Connor politely chatted in perfectly accented Thai with one of the waiters they had gotten to know.

After they had come to the restaurant a few times, they found out that the establishment was family owned and the proprietors had immigrated from Thailand.

The first time the android had politely thanked their waiter in Thai, the entire staff, the owner's family, had been surprised and questioned the kid on where he learned.

Thankfully, Connor's a quick thinker and made up a story of doing a few semesters abroad and learning the language then.

Now, a few more customers came in to the restaurant and their waiter left to take care of them. A comfortable since fell over their table as Connor took in their surroundings.

Hank smiled at the way the android glanced around curiously and seemed to catalogue every single detail of the establishment.

Every few weeks, the owner's wife would rearrange the decor and add new things to the overcrowded walls, to the clear exasperation of her husband.

It was something that the kid found endlessly intriguing and he usually never gave the older man a complaint when Hank wanted to go out for Thai food.

After a few minutes, Connor returned his attention back to the older man and a peaceful, content smile came to his face.

Hank huffed a quiet laugh. "What's got you all smiley, kid? Still thinking about paintballing?"

The android's grin widened. "I did enjoy crushing them in the final game."

"What were they saying that pissed you off so much?"

Connor's expression shifted. He looked down and mumbled, "They said that I sucked and that you were old, among other highly insulting things about us and our teammates."

Hank laughed, breaking the sudden tension from across the table. "You call me old all the time, kid."

The android smirked, putting a hand to his chest. "But, I'm your son. I can tease you." HIs expression hardened again. "He is not, so he cannot."

The older man tried to smother his smile, but wasn't all that successful. He didn't realize the kid's protective streak extended to when people bad-mouthed him too.

"Hank." Connor broke the silence and leaned towards him. "I just- it has come to my attention that humans often use holidays or special occasions like birthdays to tell each other more... emotional things."

Hank's brows lifted and the android's eyes skittered away for a second as he blew out an unsteady breath.

"I am very thankful for you, Hank. I am so thankful that you are my friend, my partner, and my father. You have been there for me and accepted me for who I am." He pointed to himself. "You saw me when no one else did, knew that I was alive even before I did. You gave me a chance to live, to grow, to be me."

Connor's eyes teared up, but he kept going. "You- you have always been there for me, no matter what." He took a small breath in and a tear fell onto his cheek. The kid quickly brushed it off and looked Hank right in the eyes.

"Thank you for being the best father I could have ever asked for. I love you, Dad."

The older man's chest constricted and he slowly breathed out as a few tears of his own ran down his face.

Hank stood from his seat, took the step to Connor and hoisted the kid into a tight hug that the android gladly reciprocated.

"I love you too, Connor."

Chapter Text

September 23rd, 2019

The anniversary of Cole's birthday was not a great day, not that Connor really thought it was going to be.

The android had some activities planned based on his internet searches and the online forums he had read regarding things to do on the birthday of a deceased child, but he knew that above all, he needed to be flexible today. This was Hank's day to do whatever and spend however he wanted. Connor was just here as emotional support.

He needed to be there, was determined to be there, for Hank the way the older man was always there for him.

Hank's mood had been steadily declining over the last week. Each day the man seemed to draw into himself more and more, memories of his six year old son no doubt becoming more painful with each passing day. 

Connor knew not to take it personally and tried to remind himself that any snippyness was not due to something the android had or had not done.

He exited Rest Mode at his normal, day-off time of 8:00 am and remembered that, by some miracle, they were both off of work today.

Connor made his way into the kitchen and accidentally stepped on the squeaky floorboard.

Hank's head lifted from where he stood at the kitchen counter, contemplating the unopened beer in his hand.

8:02 am

The older man sighed before he turned on his feet to the fridge and replaced the beer back on the shelf. Hank braced himself on the counter, looking like he barely had the strength to hold himself up.

"Hey." His voice was rough from disuse.

"Morning." Connor replied, subdued. He hadn't anticipated the older man being up already and was thrown by the change he had been unable to predict.

He shook his head in an attempt to get himself back on track.

The android stepped forward and motioned toward the kitchen table, inviting Hank to sit with him.

The man exhaled slowly and dragged himself over, dropping bonelessly into one of the chairs. Hank propped himself up on his elbows, his head resting in his hands.

Connor unnecessarily cleared his throat. "Hank, what- uh, what was Cole's favorite cake?"

His voice seemed too loud in the small space. 

When the older man didn't move, the android replayed his visual and audio files from the last few minutes to make sure he did in fact speak.

"Vanilla." Hank mumbled eventually, head still cradled in his hands. "With chocolate icing."

Connor nodded, grateful that he had heard the man's muttered statement and had prepared for this combination by getting a plethora of supplies earlier in the week.

"I was thinking," he paused, trying to gauge Hank's reaction, "that maybe we could make a cake together to honor Cole's birthday."

Hank stayed very still for eighty-nine seconds before sighing quietly. He lifted his head, exhaustion permeating every part of the older man's being. "Yeah, ok." His eyes drifted toward Cole's photo hanging on the wall. "Tonight?"

The android grinned a little. "It's up to you, but I was thinking that we could do it now."

Hank's brows lifted in surprise and his eyes came back to Connor's. The older man contemplated him for a moment.

"Ok." he said and Connor counted it as a win.

The baking went better than Connor anticipated, a happy error in his preconstructions.

Hank seemed to come a bit more alive, saying more than just a word or two at a time. He'd even chuckled when Connor analyzed the raw batter, calling the android disgusting with a hint of a smirk on his face.

While the cake baked, the older man dozed on the couch and Connor worked on his mental Hydra Board while old reruns of Brooklyn 99 filled the silence. The ding of the oven timer jolted them both back to reality and they set the cake to cool.

After that, Hank decided to shower, so Connor ran down to Dunkin Donuts and bought a few of the older man's favorites. Just as Hank was finishing in the bathroom, the android hurried back into the apartment.

They ate their donuts in companionable silence, iced the cake and put it in the fridge to harden.

One of Cole's favorite foods was peanut butter and fluff, so they ate that for lunch in the living room.

Hank had told Connor that tidbit one night a few months ago. 

The older man licked a smudge of fluff off his finger and wiped his hand on his napkin.

Connor could see Hank eyeing the android next to him on the couch, so he decided to beat the older man to it.

"Hank, I - I just want you to know that I'm here for you." He paused, his thirium pump suddenly beating loudly in his ears. "I will always be here for you. If you would like to talk or not talk," he smiled gently at the older man, "I'm here."

Hank rubbed his eyes for a moment and nodded his head. "Thanks, kid." The words were strangled with emotion and Connor scooted closer to him.

After a few minutes, Hank turned toward the android. "Would you wanna watch Shrek? Cole loved that movie."

Connor nodded. "Of course, Hank. I'd love to."

The man paused, his sandwich halfway to his mouth. "He would have loved you, ya know?" Hank whispered and took a large bite of his sandwich.

The android's vision blurred and he looked down, fiddling with his own lunch. "Me too."

They finished most of the cake that night and Hank fell asleep with his head resting heavily on the Connor's shoulder.

He brought a careful arm around the older man and he drifted off into Rest Mode.

October 11th, 2019

The anniversary of Cole's death was a bad day.

Connor was woken out of Rest Mode very early in the morning by the sounds of Hank drinking and crying softly in the kitchen.

The android rose and quietly made his way to the older man. When the squeaky floorboard, the one that Connor was constantly forgetting about, announced his presence, Hank's head snapped up and his red rimmed eyes danced between the android and the three bottles of whiskey the older man must have gone out and purchased sometime during the night.

Connor froze.

Still sitting at the kitchen table, Hank's face crumbled, making him look even more miserable, before he put his head in his hands and sobbed harder.

"I'm sorry, C-Connor. I'm sorry." The older man slurred regretfully. "So sorry. Didn't wanna, but-" He cut himself off with another cry.

Connor blinked and it was like a switch flipped in his processor. He'd never seen Hank weep like this, but he could deal with that and the emotions he was having later.

Hank needed him now, more than ever.

The android approached slowly, carefully, like one does when approaching a wounded animal. Connor relaxed his posture and telegraphed his movements as much as he could.

Hank had made it most of the way through one of the bottles and thankfully, hadn't opened the other two yet.

"It's alright, Hank. No harm done." He rested a hand on the man's back and gently took the bottle from Hank's slackened grip.

The android scanned him and confirmed his "no harm done" statement.

The older man would be fine. He'd have a massive hangover, but he'd live.

Connor tried to help Hank stand, but the older man grabbed his arm roughly.

"Why?" he demanded and the android's processor blanked.

Why did Cole die?

Connor blinked and looked away, not knowing what to say.

"Why're ya still here, takin' care of me? I'm a miserable piece of- " The older man hiccuped. "You have better things ta'do."

That didn't go where the android thought it was going to and his eyes widened.

"We're- we're family, Hank. I'll always be here for you, no matter what."

Hank shuddered and Connor gently pulled him up. They walked slowly to the older man's room where Connor deposited him on the bed. The android wrangled off Hank's jacket and shoes and managed to get the man to drink a cup of water and swallow some Advil.

Connor stepped out to get a garbage can just in case and when he came back, Hank had crawled under the sheets and passed out.

The android nodded to himself, went back into the kitchen, dumped the remaining whiskey and cybernetically called them out of work; food poisoning for both of them.

After that was done, Connor settled himself onto Hank's bed and decided he'd watch funny, animal videos in his brain for a little while. He needed something to cheer him up.

"A little while" turned out to be hours on YouTube.

A knock on the apartment door at 8:17 am jolted him from his peaceful, animal-filled bubble.

Hank hadn't stirred, still dead to the world in an alcohol induced slumber. Never the less, Connor carefully got off the bed and went to open the front door.

The android stood uncomprehendingly as he stared at George Stacy's face.

After an awkward moment, the Lieutenant cleared his throat. "Hi, Connor. How's Hank doing? Can I talk to him?"

George tried to glance over Connor's shoulder and the movement brought the android's processor back.

"Lieutenant. I-" He shook his head. "Hank called sick into work today. Did you not get the message?"

Stacy nodded. "Yeah, I did, but we're in the middle of a huge case and I need his help."

The man glanced over Connor's shoulder again and his eyes widened, no doubt catching sight of the three, empty, whiskey bottles on the table. He had been planning to add them to the recycling later.

The Lieutenant's eyes flicked back to the android's suspiciously and Connor sighed, stepping out into the hall and gently closing the door behind him.

"He's been acting weird all week, Connor. What's going on?" George crossed his arms, waiting. "Is he ok?"

Connor's eyes drifted down the hall. "He's- today's not a good day, Lieutenant."

The older man sighed. "George."

"Right." The android nodded. "Today's..." He trailed off, not wanting to betray Hank's confidence, but knowing that George was worried about the older man. They were friends.

Connor swallowed dryly. "Today's the anniversary of his son's death."

George's eyes blew wide and his breathing stalled for a few moments. The android looked down at his feet.

"W-what?"

"I wasn't his first son." Connor said, looking down the hall again. He didn't want to meet George's eyes right now. Couldn't.

"Oh. Oh." The Lieutenant dragged out the second word. The android looked back and saw comprehension and sorrow growing in the man's expression.

"The kid." George pointed at the apartment door. "The photo of the little boy with the blonde hair and blue eyes? I thought that maybe he was you at first, but then I realized the eyes were the wrong color. Was that him?"

Connor inclined his head. "Cole. His name was Cole."

George breathed out heavily and ran a hand through his hair.

"He had just turned six. There was a car accident."

Stacy looked down at his feet.

"It's not a good day, Lieutenant."

George cursed softly under his breath. "Ok. Listen, does he need anything? Do you need anything?" He stared at the apartment door, an incomprehensible sadness taking over his features. "Is there anything I can do?" He looked at Connor again.

The android shook his head. "I don't think so, but thank you, George. I appreciate your offer."

Stacy nodded. "If anything does come up, text me. Ok? Actually, if you can, text me and let me know how he's doing later anyway?"

"I will."

George breathed in through his nose and nodded as he did. "Ok. Thanks, kid. I'll let you get back in there."

They said their goodbyes and Connor made his way back to Hank. He settled in for a long day.

The older man stirred during the afternoon and took more Advil. He was quiet while they marathoned the Fast and Furious movies that Hank usually enjoyed watching, mostly for their unrealistic, comedic value.

By the time they started the third movie, the man had his head pillowed on Connor's thigh while the android's fingers combed soothingly through Hank's hair. Occasionally, his fingers would slip down the man's neck and gently massage the muscles there.

Halfway through the fifth movie, Hank was asleep again. And by the end of that movie, Connor leaned over and whispered, "I love you, Dad. I'll be here when you wake up."

Chapter Text

October 2019

"Have you thought about what you're gonna do if you're at work and someone finds out that you're an android?" Hank took an obnoxiously large bite of the healthy apple crisp Connor had made earlier in the week. He smiled smugly at the kid.

There had been an argument yesterday about if this dessert could actually be eaten as a breakfast food or not.

Hank had won.

Connor ignored the look and sipped on his warm thirium.

Now that the weather was getting colder, the kid seemed to prefer his thirium heated. The android would warm it in a pot over the stove and drink it from the new mug Hank had gotten him. It read, "I'm smarter than Google."

It was custom printed and Hank had just about died laughing when it finally came.

Connor froze for a second, no doubt calculating something, before he shrugged and the corner of his mouth ticked up in a smirk.

"I suppose I could open a panel on my arm and point at the components inside." He pursed his lips before continuing. "I could then tell them that I'm rigged to explode and start making loud beeping noises." He casually took another sip of his drink.

Wait, what?

Hank's brows raised to his hairline as he slapped a hand over his mouth to prevent any food from escaping. Unable to control his laughter, his shoulders shook and he bent forward, head coming to rest on the table.

Connor's chuckles joined his and just the mental image alone sent the older man cracking up all over again.

After a few minutes, Hank took a few, pained breaths and looked up. The kid was draped back on the chair he was sitting in, his head thrown back and a hand resting on his chest. The android was trying to take slow, measured breaths, but they were interrupted by giggles.

Connor lifted his head and looked Hank in the eye, his face going blank. "Beep. Beep. BEEP."

By the time they got themselves under control again, they were both crying and Hank was a little dizzy.

The older man was late for work, but it was worth it.

Connor tiredly threw himself down on the couch.

Hank knew the kid had worked all day on some big project with that jerk he hated and by the time the older man had gotten off his shift, the android was in a stress-induced cleaning frenzy.

Somehow though, the kid had missed a bunch of Legos again and Hank had stepped on one of them barefoot.

Ha. "State-of-the-art prototype."

The android stretched out his lanky legs, taking up the entire long part of the sectional couch.

The older man shook his head, thankful that they both had the weekend off. The kid needed to unwind.

The microwave beeped behind him and Hank turned to grab his not great, but it'll-do-when-you-live-with-a-robot-overlord popcorn.

When he made it over to the couch, he nudged Connor's leg with his knee, silently prompting the android to make some room.

The kid grunted loudly into the seat cushions, but didn't move.

"Con." Hank prodded him once more with his knee.

The android groaned again, but didn't budge.

The older man rolled his eyes, annoyed by Connor's ability to choose to breathe or not. The kid could stay with his face buried in the cushions for hours.

It was time for drastic measures.

Hank turned and plopped down right on Connor's legs. The android lifted his head with a surprised squawk and squirmed, trying to dislodge the older man.

Hank grinned at his suddenly bumpy ride and lost a few pieces of popcorn in the process, but as quickly as it started, it stopped. Connor flopped back down again, apparently figuring out that the only way he was going to move the older man would either hurt Hank or force the kid to get up and move him more gently.

The android sighed heavily, and turned his head so he could see the other man.

"You wanna talk about what's bothering you?" Hank took a handful of popcorn and Connor threw a hand back, snagging some too.

"It's just work. It's been stressful and Bauer stressed me out so much today." He propped himself up awkwardly on an elbow. "Before I knew what happened, my stress level was seventy-six percent. I had to go take a walk!" The kid flopped back down on his side, legs still trapped under Hank. He picked one piece of popcorn at a time from his hand and chewed it slowly.

The android kind of reminded him of a raccoon or a squirrel or something.

The older man shook his head, trying to get rid of that mental image. He patted the kid's leg consolingly. "Well, that was good. There are stupid people everywhere that will always get under our skin- er, plastimetal." Hank shrugged. "You did good taking a step back and removing yourself from the situation so you could calm down."

Connor finished his last piece of popcorn and hung his now salty hands over the edge of the couch. "I hate people." he muttered petulantly and the older man laughed.

"Me too, kid."

The android sighed before turning to stare incredulously with one raised brow. "Is that all you're eating for dinner?"

Hank opened his mouth to answer, but a loud knock made both their heads swivel towards the door.

The older man groaned and turned back toward Connor. "Shannon caught me in the elevator earlier. Please, Con. You gotta answer the door."

The kid grimaced. "She's so annoying. She's sounds like Janice from Friends."

"Yes, she does, but this is your fault." Hank reminded him. "Come on. Kid, please. You gotta get rid of her. I have an ex-wife. Been there, done that. Not interested in the slightest." His hand cut through the air.

Another knock sounded on the door.

"Tell her I went out on a date or something."

Connor sighed heavily and Hank had to marvel at how many of his mannerisms the android had picked up.

"Fine."

With a fist pump, the older man stood and moved into the kitchen where he would be out of view from the hall.

The kid stuck out his tongue, making a face, and Hank made one back.

The android opened the door and stopped short, his annoyed expression morphing into one of surprise.

"Hey." a voice said, that definitely didn't belong to Janice-Shannon.

Hank shoved some more popcorn in his mouth, watching the drama unfold.

Connor blinked twice, before it seemed like he rebooted. Jeez, the kid must be tired.

"Uh, hi, Peter. Would-would you like to come in?" He pulled the door open a little wider and the skinny teen came through the door carrying his backpack.

Peter's face did something complicated when he noticed Hank and was obviously wondering why the hell the older man was awkwardly standing behind the door.

"H-hi, Mr. Anderson." The kid gave a small wave.

"Hey, Pete." Hank pointed behind himself. "We thought you were the lady from down the hall." He pursed his lips. "I was hiding."

Connor closed the door and turned to smile wolfishly at him. "Shannon thinks that Hank is very attractive and has made many ... obvious overtures towards him." He directed his delighted, demented glee at Hank.

The older man rolled his eyes and coughing, Peter's face went red.

"So, Pete." Hank checked his watch. "Everything ok?"

The teen shuffled on his feet.

"Shouldn't you be out with friends or home or something. You need help with Spanish homework on a Friday night?" The older man waved the hand not holding the popcorn bowl into the air.

Connor's head tilted to the side and Peter nodded. "I was out with some of my friends, but then I realized I locked myself out of the apartment. Aunt May's at some work conference thing until tomorrow so I can't get back in." His eyes darted between Hank and Connor while he bounced lightly on his feet.

"I would have gone to Ned's but I forgot that his family is in the Hamptons this weekend and I don't even know where MJ lives, so I couldn't go there either." He took a quick breath. "Plus, May would kill me if she found out I spent the night at a girl's house. So," he paused, pressing his lips into a thin line. "I came here. Connor, you're my friend and Mr. Anderson, you're a cop. I figured this would be a good place to crash, if you don't mind me hanging out here that is." The kid tried to smile, but it didn't even come close. He clearly felt badly about interrupting their Friday night.

Connor's eyes blew wide in panic for a quick second as Hank nodded. "Of course, kid. Did you eat dinner yet?"

"Oh! I'm ok, Mr. Anderson- "

"Hank." The older man moved the conversation into the kitchen. "And Connor here was just yelling at me that popcorn was not a good substitute for dinner. I'm ordering some Thai food from around the corner. What do you like?"

Peter blinked and so did Connor. "Um, Pad Thai?"

The teen glanced at Connor, who was nervously tapping an erratic rhythm on his leg. If Hank hadn't known the android as long as he did, he wouldn't think anything was wrong. But they've been living in the same place for months now and he knew the kid pretty damn well. This was one of his many tells.

The android was freaking out about something.

"Good choice." Hank nodded. "Con, you want Mango Chicken?"

The android stopped twitching his fingers. "Yes, please."

"Alright, let me order this. You guys go pick out a movie or something."

Peter followed the instructions and Connor gave a panicked, what-do-we-do look.

Hank shrugged, not sure what the problem was.

"Do you guys mind if I put my bag here?" Peter asked, motioning towards the end of the sofa.

Connor relaxed his face and turned to the teen so smoothly, Hank's jaw almost hit the floor.

Thankfully, he managed to not actually do that.

"Of course." the android said and made his way over to Peter.

Hank's brows furrowed, but he placed their order. Once he was finished, he put his phone down on the counter and made his way over to the kids.

"So, what movie are we watching?" The older man took a seat on the couch as Peter scrolled through their movie library on the TV.

"Well, we're torn between the Empire Strikes Back, Return of the Jedi and A New Hope." Peter turned to look at him.

Hank's phone buzzed on the counter and the older man turned to eye it, before looking back at the kids. "So, it's a Star Wars kind of night?"

His phone went off again.

"Do you have an opinion?" Connor nodded.

Hank shook his head as his phone vibrated on the counter. "Nope. Any of those are good."

The phone buzzed again.

Peter's eyes drifted toward Hank's phone and Connor tilted his head to the side. "Perhaps you should check your phone, Hank."

The older man waved him off. "It's fine. I'm off for the next three days and no active cases. George is probably just bored."

Stacey had been... clingy lately. No, clingy was too strong a word, but the man had been texting him a lot. 

The android turned to face Peter. "His partner." he explained to the teen.

Peter nodded as Hank's phone went off two more times in quick succession.

"What if it's an emergency?" Connor subtly motioned to the phone with his eyes and Hank's own narrowed in return.

The android's eyes twitched ever so slightly as the next vibration echoed through the room.

The older man sighed and went to the kitchen to retrieve his phone.

7 Unread Messages

RoboBaby: Hank, we have a problem.

RoboBaby: Hank.

RoboBaby: Hank, seriously.

RoboBaby: Hank.

RoboBaby: Hank.

RoboBaby: Hank, pick up your phone.

RoboBaby: HANK!!!!

Hank rolled his eyes so hard it hurt. "Yup, it's just George. You guys pick, I'll be right over."

Me: what

RoboBaby: We have a problem.

Me: ??

RoboBaby: There are two bottles of thirium in the fridge! And there's a bottle of thirium on the dresser in my room! My closet that holds the equipment for making the thirium is open and in your room, we have the Hydra board out!

The older man's eyes widened and he cursed under his breath. He looked up and saw that Connor was still debating with Peter about the movies.

Hank needed to move fast. He walked to the fridge, removed the two bottles and shoved them in the small cabinet under the sink.

He then casually, leisurely passed the two kids on the couch and proceeded down the hall to Connor's room where he snagged the bottle, closed the closet door and made his way back into the hall. Hank tossed the electric blue bottle onto his own bed, closed his door and took a measured breath before slowly wandering back into the living room.

"You guys decide on a movie?" Hank sat back down on the couch and Connor turned slightly panicked eyes towards him. Thankfully, Peter's focus was still on the TV.

Me: ok, done..anything else ?

RoboBaby: No. Thank you, Hank.😊😊👍

"We decided to start with A New Hope and perhaps we'll continue the rest of the trilogy as the night progresses." Connor's face relaxed and the kid's posture lost some of its rigidity.

Mr. Anderson - Hank - claimed "oldness" and went to bed after the end of the second movie. Peter and Connor decided to stay up and finish the trilogy.

Embarrassingly, the teen's stomach grumbled loudly just as Luke was taking out all of Jabba the Hutts' bad guys, but his friend turned to him with a small smile.

Wordlessly, Connor paused the movie, stood and motioned for Peter to follow. 

The older guy walked into the kitchen and showed the teenager where to find cups, water and snacks in case he needed anything in the middle of the night.

But then Connor opened the fridge and started pulling out his own leftovers. Peter didn't realize until the food was already microwaving that they were meant for him. 

His friend held up his hand, effectively silencing the teen's protests. "It's ok, Peter. I'm not hungry and I was planning on making dinner tomorrow night anyway. These leftovers would have gone bad. It's better that you eat them instead of the garbage." Connor winked. 

Peter sighed and nodded, crossing his arms and leaning back against the counter. Exhaling slowing, he looked up, guilt twisting in his stomach. 

The color coordinated, definitely-not-food-shopping lists on the fridge caught his eye though, and he squinted, trying to make out what they could be. 

He inhaled, opened his mouth and closed it again. It all just seemed so random. 

"Hey, Connor?"

The older guy hummed. 

"What's that?" Peter pointed. 

Connor froze, eyes widening. He looked... scared.

And that guilt in his gut quadrupled. The teen felt nauseous. "You don't, uh-"

"No, it's- it's ok." His friend exhaled slowly, purposely forcing a relaxed posture. "I- uh-" Connor breathed and started wringing his hands together. "I sometimes feel like... it's wrong to like something or feel a certain way, whether positive or negative. So, Hank suggested that I make lists and display it so I have a visual reminder that I can look at." His words came out in a rush. 

The teen pursed his lips to keep his expression from doing anything else. 

The older boy's panicked eyes flitted away before resolutely looking at his feet. 

"So," Peter started, "are video games good?" He kept his tone light. He didn't want Connor to think he was judging him or anything. 

Because he's wasn't. Everybody's got stuff they're living with and dealing with. 

Him most of all. 

Connor looked up, nodding stiffly. 

"Which video game is your favorite?" Peter waved a hand through the air. "I have to warn you, I've played a lot of video games in my time and I have a lot of opinions on this."

His friend smiled and stopped the microwave right before it could beep and wake up Hank. 

Connor launched into a detailed, thesis-level analysis of Batman Arkham Knight. 

Once Return of the Jedi was over, Peter was practically falling asleep. Connor had retreated into his room and returned with a pillow, blankets and a pair of Connor's too-big sweatpants and a t-shirt.

Peter went to the bathroom to change into the borrowed clothes and chuckled when he saw the encouraging and sarcastic Post-It notes around the mirror.

His favorite was, "Be nice, even though people are really, really, really stupid." He almost laughed out loud when he read that one, but a good runner-up was, "Sarcasm is my body's defense against PEOPLE because murder is illegal." 

Not wrong, Peter noted, but illegal.

He also liked the Sticky Note thread: "You Should Smile More -- No -- Please? -- Ugh Fine." There was even a crudely drawn smiley face with that one. 

By the time he was finished in the bathroom, Connor had made up a makeshift bed on the couch. He said good night to the teen and made his way to his own room. Peter promptly fell asleep.

He woke in a haze to the sound of a door closing. He lifted his head and looked around, remembering that he was at Connor and his dad's apartment. His eyes slid closed.

"Hey, Con. I need you to breathe, kid."

The words were whispered, but thanks to Peter's enhanced senses, he heard them regardless and his eyes snapped open.

"It's gunna be alright, Son. It was just a dream." Hank said.

His heart racing, Peter lifted his head, seeing the light flick on in Connor's room. The older man's bedroom door was open.

Fully awake now, Peter sat up on the couch, unsure what he should do.

And now that he was paying attention, he could hear faint, muffled sobs and stuttered breathing.

"You're ok, Son. I've got you. I've got you." Hank continued to whisper gently in the room down the hall and Peter's heart started to slow.

He blew out a heavy breath, heart clenched in sympathy. Peter's been there. He knows what night terrors are like.

The teen slowly slumped back down onto his bedding and listened.

He's getting the feeling that certain aspects of his friend's childhood were utter crap. 

After a while, Connor seemed to calm down and Peter couldn't hear either of them anymore.

His eyes slipped closed. Sometime later, he was roused from a light doze by Connor's door opening and Hank making his way back into his own bedroom.

Peter listened, but didn't hear anything further from Connor's room and fell into a dreamless sleep.