#And them be confused as to why you’re drawing a cardboard dinosaur

[i-may-be-an-emu]

I drew the cardboard stegosaurus how I imagined it :)

[emmerrr]

let’s try this again shall we? also that should say ‘single level’ not single reference, i had fixed that typo before i posted and lost the original but never mind

-

It’s a while before Ronan notices, to be honest.

Socks just aren’t something he pays that much attention to; his own, or anyone else’s. They’re just...there. He doesn’t even really have a specific sock drawer. It’s more of a mixed bag drawer, full of sweatpants, PJs, boxers, and socks. His only prerequisite when reaching for socks in the morning is that there’s two of them. Whether or not they match is irrelevant.

So when Adam, home for the summer, mentions that he thinks some of his socks are going missing, Ronan doesn’t think too much about it.

“You sure you didn’t just leave them in the drier?”

“Pretty sure. I checked, and then I double-checked.”

“Oh well, I’m sure they’ll turn up,” Ronan says, then drags Adam’s attention back to more important things, like making out on the sofa for hours.

A couple of weeks later, Adam brings it up again, and Ronan tries to suggest other explanations.

“Maybe you accidentally left a bunch of socks at college?”

“Not a chance. They’re getting washed and dried as pairs, but when I come to empty the machine, a sock from each pair has gone, every single time. I’m gonna run out at this rate, I’ll have to get more.”

“You can always wear mine, Parrish, I don’t care. Or I’ll dream you up some new ones, easy-peasy.”

Adam frowns. “Yeah, I guess. It’s just...weird. It’s only my socks. I don’t get it.”

Strange as it is, Ronan still thinks weirder things have happened to them, so again it doesn’t rank too high on his list of priorities. It’s just one of those things, an unexplainable story to laugh about in the future.

After one afternoon spent working in one of the barns outside, Ronan returns to the house in the early evening and heads straight for the kitchen. Adam has returned from work, and is standing with his back to Ronan, leaning on the counter before him and watching the coffee machine do its thing.

He’s clearly been back a while, because he’s wearing sweats and a baggy t-shirt, and he’s had a shower and a nap if the way his hair’s sticking up on one side is anything to go by. But it’s his socks that immediately draw Ronan’s eye.

On Adam’s left foot is a sock in the colours of the bi pride flag, and on his right is a sock of Ronan’s, a red one patterned with multi-coloured dinosaurs. They were a Christmas gift from Matthew.

Adam doesn’t immediately realise Ronan’s there what with the coffee machine gurgling away, but as Ronan pads over he senses him a second before he reaches him, turning his face a half-inch and smiling.

Ronan tugs lightly at the sleep-stretched neck of Adam’s t-shirt and presses a lingering kiss to his bare shoulder, before wrapping his arms around him. “You look so fucking adorable,” he murmurs into Adam’s hearing ear.

Adam doesn’t verbally respond but he melts into Ronan a little, tilting his neck to allow access for Ronan to kiss a line down it the way he knows Adam likes.

“Nice socks,” he says, and it’s this that finally prompts Adam into actually speaking.

He turns around and lifts up his bi-stocking-ed foot. “See!” he exclaims. “The other one’s disappeared. I now don’t have any matching pairs of socks in this house and there is definitely a conspiracy at play.”

Ronan snorts. “Yeah, okay, this is getting pretty weird,” he allows.

Adam narrows his eyes. “This isn’t you, is it?”

“Huh?”

“The socks, Ronan. Is it you?”

“Adam, why the fuck would I steal your socks?”

“...Yeah, okay,” Adam says, visibly deflating. “I didn’t think you had a foot fetish as well as a hand kink.”

“Hey.” Ronan lightly pokes the tip of Adam’s nose. “Rude.”

“Sorry.” Adam sighs. “I just...I really, really don’t understand what could have happened to them.”

“Have you tried asking your tarot cards?”

“You’re hilarious, you know that?”

“I try.”

The rest of the summer passes in a wonderful blur, far too quickly but with as much fun and love as they can possibly squeeze into the days. No more of Adam’s socks go missing, but he refuses to replace any until he gets back to college, not wanting to risk them going walkabout at the Barns.

The day before he’s due to leave, he has one final shift at Boyd’s, an easy afternoon of oil changes for one last influx of cash. His bag is packed and waiting by the door in the hallway so it can be easily thrown into the car in the morning.

Ronan’s in the kitchen preparing a farewell feast worthy of champions when he hears the sound of something heavy being dragged across the floor coming from the hallway. He stops chopping potatoes and follows the sound, stepping through the doorway just in time to catch sight of Adam’s duffel bag being pulled up the stairs.

He rounds the corner so he’s standing at the bottom of the stairs and looks up to see that it’s Opal who’s making off with Adam’s bag. She freezes when she spots Ronan, drops the bag strap and darts the rest of the way upstairs to her room, slamming the door behind her.

Sighing, Ronan puts Adam’s bag back by the door and then follows Opal up the stairs.

He knocks on her door. “Opal?” No response. “I’m coming in, okay?”

He hesitates just in case she decides she doesn’t want him there, but when there’s still no reply he opens the door and scans the room.

He doesn’t immediately see her and feels a brief flare of panic that she might have escaped out the window (an alarming prospect as they’re on the second floor), but then he spots her sitting in the corner, facing the wall and covering her face with her hands.

She looks like she’s put herself in a time-out. Or that she’s counting for a game of hide-and-seek.

Ronan sits on the edge of her bed. “Opal. Look at me.”

At length, she lowers her hands and turns, pinning him with those big eyes, wide and unblinking.

“Why were you trying to hide Adam’s bag?”

“Because he can’t leave if he can’t find it,” she says slowly, as if she thinks he’s being very dim-witted on purpose.

“But he’s gotta go back to college. You know that.”

She shakes her head adamantly. “He went to college last year.”

“Right, but we talked about this, remember? It’s four years. And he’s already done one now.”

“Three more,” she says sadly.

“I know. It sounds long. But it’ll be like last year. He’ll go and then he’ll come back.”

She crosses her arms, petulant. “So long...”

“It feels like it sometimes, yeah, but that’s why we call him, and why we visit, and why he comes home as much as he can.”

Ronan understands separation anxiety all too well. It’s hard to comfort Opal when he feels very much the same. But he supposes one of them has to be the adult in this particular situation, and the task has fallen unenviably to him.

Opal finally deigns to come and sit next to him. “Won’t he miss us?” she asks quietly.

“Course he will, we’re fucking awesome,” Ronan says, and Opal finally quirks a smile. “But he’s worked really hard for this and he’s learning loads of cool stuff at college. So we can’t hide his stuff even though we’re gonna miss him, okay?”

Opal sighs. “Okay.” She hops down and reaches under her bed, pulling out a cardboard box. “Do you think he’ll need these as well?”

Ronan peers inside to see that the box is full of socks. Adam’s socks, to be exact. Mystery solved.

He bursts out laughing, and it’s a while before he gets his breath back to speak. “Did you think Adam wouldn’t be able to go back if none of his socks matched?”

“What else is the point of matching socks?” she asks, genuinely curious, and this sets Ronan off again.

“Ohhh, brat,” he says, wrapping an arm around her. “Don’t ever change.”

Adam is both pleased and confused when he gets home and is presented with his missing socks.

“Where did you find them?”

“Uhhh...” Ronan stalls, looking to Opal, unsure of how much she wants him to say, or if she even cares at all.

Adam notices the exchange and smiles at her. “Was it you who found them?”

Opal nods slowly. “They were...out...side,” she says unconvincingly. “I think Chainsaw took them.” Then she nods emphatically, happy with this excuse considering Chainsaw won’t be able to defend her own honour. “It was Chainsaw.”

Ronan supposes that just because he doesn’t lie, doesn’t mean Opal’s incapable. Adam smiles again, and there’s something knowing and wistful in it. He can likely now guess that Opal’s the true culprit, but he won’t call her out on it. He’s good like that.

“Well thank you,” he says, straightening Opal’s skull-cap. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

Opal beams and kisses the back of his hand before scampering off outside to torment the local wildlife or whatever else she does for fun.

Adam steps into Ronan’s orbit and kisses him, slow and gentle. “I don’t know what I’d do without you either,” he murmurs.

Ronan grins at that. “I think you should only wear odd socks from here on out.”

“Y’know what, it’s grown on me.”

[pnf-lover98]

DBH fanfiction - Cole Anderson

February 5th 2039,

10.00 pm.

“I won” Connor announced, disposing his cards down on the table.

Hank threw his ones away with a groan. “Urgh! You’re just a lucky bastard!”

“This result has nothing to do with luck, Hank”. The robot patiently picked up the cards, forming a tidy pack. “I’m afraid my android memory helps a little too much in this sort of games”

“You cheated!”

“Do you want a rematch?”

Hank took a moment to think. “No. You’d just cheat again. Let’s do something else.”

“Ok. Is there something in particular you’d like to do?” Connor asked, and the other shrugged in reply.

“...We coukld always talk”, the android suggested.

“About what?”

“About all of my questions you’ve been avoiding to answer this week”

The old man crossed his arms at the android’s suggestion, staying silent.

They’d been knowing eachother for a while, now, but Hank’s nature was still protective toward his secrets. Those past days, the lieutenant had fallen into another wave of sadness, and Connor wanted to help. Hence, all of his unanswered questions.

Connor didn’t want to let go, not yet,

“Do you know what happens when androids touch and their hands turn white?” the young detective asked.

Hank was taken aback from this qustion. “What the...?”

“They interface, allowing both of them to see eachother’s memory. They can literally see through eachother’s eyes” Connor answered, explaining. “They can feel exactly what the other felt, and so they know how to help their firends.”

Seeing that Hank was still not replying, sitting there with his arms crossed, the android proceded to explain to him the reason behind his question; “The problem is, Hank, that I am an android and you are a human. We cannot interface, nor see eachother’s memories”

Hank still didn’t reply, but the expression on his face shifted. He could see now where the kid was going.

“I really want to get to know you, but I don’t know how to do that unless you tell me more about your world. For example, I’d like to know what Cole was like as a person, how do you feel, or what’s going on inisde your mind.”

“Why the hell can’t you leave me alone?” Hank replied, annoyed at all those way too personal questions.

“Because we’re friends, and aside from the fact that I want to know you, I really think talking things out would help”, Connor tried to convince him, with his usual patient behaviour.

But hank felt Connor’s insistance as a violation of his personal space, so, after a long silence, the man waved the discussion off declaring that it was time to get some sleep.

His friend, innerly sighing in defeat, prepared his stasis protocols to launch for the night.

That day had been a pretty energy-consuming one, so Connor needed to charge his battery as well. Good thing he’d brought his charging equipment with him.

That night, almost at 4 am, a group of anti-android fanatics broke into the DPD station, managed to neutralize the human agents and to damage the android units.

Connor had intervened, and disbanded the group of intruders. Three of them were now under arrest, the others still on the loose.

Hank offered Connor to live in his house until all that mess would have been solved; the police station was no longer a safe place for him to stay off duty.

Connor attached his charging equipment to the wall plug and then to himself. After he wished Hank goodnight, the android entered his sleep mode.

After a while, Hank entered the room to check up on his friend. The human found himself staring, suddenly reminded of the young man's true nature; Connor was laying down on the couch, eyes closed and a relaxed position, legit looking like he was asleep like any human, but that cable sticking out of him revealed his being a machine.

It felt so odd...

But whatever Connor was, he was still the only one to really care about Hank.

“I really think talking things out would help”

- - - - -

The old lieutenant really did think about the android's words. He thought about it that night and all through his next morning's shift at the DPD.

In the afternoon, the two friends were once again hanging out at Hank's house.

“Hey, connor” Hank called for the android, who immediately turned to face his friend. “I...I thought about what you said yesterday” the man said, then gestured for Connor to follow him as he turned around, walking towards the garage.

The robot tilted his head slightly, and followed Hank without saying a word. He stopped on the doorway and watched as his friend picked up a box, among the many others in the room, and walked back to the living room.

Hank sat on the couch, placing the box on the small coffee table in front of it. Connor sat down next to him, analyzing the frame of the cardboard box.

-Processing Data...-

Processing: complete.

It had a writing on one of its sides.

Font: handwriting.

Realized with a back marker.

It read “Cole”.

Connor's led spinned to yellow.

As Hank carefully opened the box, the other man took a look at the things it contained; toys, a good pile of drawings, a few clothing items, along with other little objects. The lieutenant picked up one of said objects. It was a framed picture of a happy, smiling couple with a small kid.

“We looked like a picture-perfect family, huh?” Hank commented sarcastic, as he handed the frame to his friend.

“You...did” Connor replied. “What happened to your wife?” the robot inquired.

“We divorced shortly after the accident. I feel like Cole was the only reason we were still together anyway...” the old man explained, as Connor put the photo down next to the box.

The next thing Hank showed Connor was a friendly-looking stuffed dinosaur plushie. The android couldn't help a little smile at the plushie's odd colors.

“This was Cole's favourite toy. He won it at one of those toy vending machines. It's the only time we've ever got something out of those!” Hank stroke his thumb on the worn-out fabric of the plushie with a sad, weak smile. “He called it Dave. And I said 'you can't call it like that! Dinos are tough, brave creatures; you can't give it such a friendly name!' ” the lieutenant recalled. “I...I remember one day he couldn't find it anywhere, and he started crying. I had to turn my whole damn house upside down before I found it in the laundry basket! Cole stopped crying only after Dave was back in his arms”

Connor was listening carefully, taking in all the information Hank was giving him.

Putting the little dinosaur back into the box, the old man showed Connor a small baseball cap with a logo sewn on the front. The android scanned the logo, finding the name of the team it belonged to, and frowned a little in confusion; it was a basketball team, but it didn't match the logo he found among hank's things at the DPD office.

“When he was five, Cole declared that he liked that team better that Detroit Gears. That sentence of his nearly caused a war between us!” Hank said. “I mean...it was nothing too serious, because you can't love your family any less just 'cause they don't support your favourite team...” the man corrected himself. He didn't want Connor to misunderstand; the boy took things too literally, sometimes. “...but it didn't stop Cole from sneaking up on me from behind the couch during the games just to drop playful jokes against my team” Hank's eyes watered.

“Everything that's in this box, every memory connected to this stuff...It's always on my mind. No matter how hard I try to push it away” the old lieutenant's voice faltered.

“All those goodnight kisses, a-all the games we used to play...” the first tears slid down his cheeks.

Seeing his friend breaking down like that, Connor's deviancy produced in him a stinging feeling, and for the first time the android wondered if his species really wasn't able to feel pain.

“...his laughter, his smile, his voice! It never stops! A-and now he's gone, and it's not fair, and...and...”

Connor placed his hand on Hank's shoulder, pulling him into a hug to try to confort him. The man, breathing shakily among his tears, hugged him back tightly, holding on to the robot's shirt.

Connor rubbed his hand up and down Hank's back, his led intermitting fast a yellow light.

The android's hands turned white as an inconscious response to his thoughts. He was exerting one more time the first real emotion he'd ever experienced as a deviant; empathy.

After a while, Hank pulled himself away from the hug. With a snif, the man wiped the tears from his cheeks with the palm of his hand. “Damn it!” the old lieutenant exclaimed, turning away from Connor. The latter now was wearing a pretty confused look on his face.

“Hank...” the android's sensors scanned Hank's body language.

[Hank feels embarrassed]

It was the only time the lieutenant had ever let someone see him like that, see him cry.

“Hey...” Connor leaned over, trying to make eye contact with the man. “There is nothing to be ashamed of. It is perfectly normal and fine to cry, sometimes” the android said, his voice soft and caring.

“When I said I wanted to be your friend, I meant it” he continued. Hank finally turned back. “I want to be there for you, including when it comes to coping with the past”.

Hank pulled out a weak smile.

“Got it?” Connor asked his friend.

The man nodded in reply. “Got it”

The lieutenant's gaze fell back on the box, and on the name written on it. But this time, something changed. Hank could've never ignored Cole's absence, so heavily ever-present in his life, but he couldn't ignore Connor's presence either, and the android's desperate attempts to help him.

“Enough of talking about me and my problems for today” the man decalred, after another snif. “Now I want you to tell me something about yourself. You're not the only one who wants to understand the other, here”.

Connor accepted, with a slight nod.

“Ok”