#fsdlkfj thIS TOOK SO LONG

[neversatisfiedswitch]

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Author’s Note: Sort of a plain title, but I couldn’t think of anything else. X’D I’ve wanted to write this for a while, once I gave my child Colton a Detroit: Become Human verse I wanted a Hank to like... take him in. Anyway! I don’t know how to Hank, I RP Connor but Hank is still kind of a mystery to me, so if he’s ooc then I apologize!

Warnings for language (as per the norm, only with Hank this time, he curse a lot), mentions of blood/gore/suicide, and a n g s t. But there’s fluff, too! :3

Summary: As Hank Anderson is just starting to get used to his android partner, he also opens his home to Colton-- a young man who is not fully android or human, and who helps him remember the way things used to be.

Word Count: 4531 (my longest thing yet!!!)

After his and Connor’s investigation at the Eden Club, and after leaving the android to go drink more, Hank was just as drunk as he’d been when Connor had found him, save for passing out on his floor. He cursed at the broken window in his kitchen, truthfully pissed off at Connor for more than just the shattered glass-- he was pissed about everything.

However, as he moved to get a broom to sweep the glass up, knowing he’d have to call to replace the window in the morning, he noticed something... odd. There was blood on the floor near the window-- not blue blood, meaning Connor hadn’t cut himself, but red blood. “ ... Sumo? You didn’t cut yourself, did’ja?” The Saint Bernard came waddling out from the hallway, the Lieutenant meeting him on the other side of the table to look him over. No cuts, no blood, which only meant...

Drawing his gun, Hank moved to the end of the hallway, clearing his throat to attempt to keep his words from slurring. “Whoever the fuck’s in here, this’s private property. Come out, don’t make me shoot-- an’ put your hands up.”

The light in the bathroom turned on, the slightly-ajar door moving open as a foot pushed it. Two hands were lifted-- Hank could’ve sworn through his blurry vision that one of them looked like an android’s, and the other was the cause of the blood on his floor, a large gash splitting the palm open. But what he didn’t expect was the eyes... or eye, rather, since the other was covered by hair. Gunmetal blue, scared and soft, peeked out from behind an arm-- both were shaking. With how skinny the person was... Hank assumed it was a kid. And it wasn’t just his arms that were shaking-- his whole body was trembling, from his shoulders to his knees. Whether it was from pain, cold, or fear, Hank couldn’t tell, but he surmised it was a combination of all three.

He holstered his gun-- seeing as how this kid was bleeding, and couldn’t be a threat due to his full-body tremors, there wasn’t any need to threaten him. He held one of his hands up, his voice quieter. “Alright, calm down, kid-- you can put your hands down now. Shit, you’re a goddamn mess.”

Sumo approached the boy as he lowered his right hand, the left being the one that was bleeding. Hesitantly, he petted the top of Sumo’s head, the dog’s tongue lolling out in a pant as Hank snorted. “Some fuckin’ guard dog you are.”

If he’d been sober, he might have been more abrasive, and definitely more harsh-- seeing as how this kid had come in through his window, he had every right to kick him out. But...

“Alright, I don’t know why you came through my goddamn window, but I’m not gonna send you back out. ‘Specially when you’re bleeding like you are. C’mon, sit down.” He pulled a chair back from the table, moving back over to the pile of broken glass so he could sweep it up. When he looked back to find the kid had taken maybe a few steps toward the table, he shook his head, sighing. “Kid, I just said I’m not gonna kick you out. Now if you don’t sit down, I’m gonna have to make you.” A few more hesitant steps and the soft sound of the chair scraping against the floor, and Hank smiled-- tiredly, but he still smiled. “There. Wasn’t so fuckin’ hard, was it?”

After getting up all the glass-- he’d get the shards outside tomorrow-- he dumped the broken pieces in the trash can, then rummaged around in his cabinets, coming back to the table with a warm, damp rag, some gauze, some bandages, and some hydrogen peroxide. “Alright, gimme your hand.”

The boy’s gaze lifted from the table, alarm clear on his face. While Hank was used to yelling at other people, even slamming his fists on surfaces to make his point, he knew he couldn’t do that-- with the way the kid was still shaking, he had to be patient. He sighed quietly, keeping his voice level. “Look, kid, I’m not gonna let you walk around with a bleeding hand. Lemme see it so I can make sure there’s not any glass in it.”

For a few moments, the boy didn’t move-- but with hesitance still clearly written on his face, he finally relented, carefully bringing his hand up and setting it on the table. Hank was gentle as he took it, surprising even himself, and he studied the wound, cursing softly. “Christ... coulda been worse, ‘cause I don’t see any bone, but that looks like it hurts like Hell. No glass, which is good news...” Carefully, he wiped the blood off of his hand, making sure not to touch the wound itself. He heard a hiss from across the table, and when he looked up the boy had his eyes squeezed shut, his head ducked down until his chin touched his chest. Normally, Hank wouldn’t feel bad about making someone else hurt-- but he tried to be more gentle, a frown on his face as he set the rag aside.

He opened the bottle of hydrogen peroxide, looking at the boy before he lifted it. “This might sting some-- so don’t freak out, alright?” He waited for the kid to nod before he carefully poured some of the liquid onto his hand, his frown deepening at the wince the peroxide drew when it made contact. It fizzed slightly for a moment, then it was gone. As he placed some gauze over the wound and began to wrap the bandages around it, he decided he should at least try and get some information out of the kid.

“Shoulda told you my name instead’a pullin’ my gun on ya... I’m Hank. Hank Anderson. I’m a police Lieutenant.” He focused on gently winding the bandages around the boy’s hand for a moment, thinking that after the silence, he’d ask the kid his name-- but his question was answered before he could speak again.

“Colton Robinson...” Colton had long since lifted his chin from his chest, but it wasn’t until Hank introduced himself that he’d decided to look back at the man. Pleasantly surprised, Hank smiled warmly, continuing to wrap Colton’s hand.

“Well, Colton... it’s nice to meet ya.”

--

Hank arrived to work the next morning to note that Connor was impatiently waiting at his desk-- impatience was uncharacteristic of the android, and he held his hands up in defense when the RK800 stormed over to him.

“Where have you been, Lieutenant? I understand you said you were drinking more, but I didn’t expect you to be late. Did you drink again after you woke up this morning?”

“Whoa, whoa, cool your fuckin’ jets, Connor. I ain’t drunk now, don’t fuckin’ worry about that.” He pushed past the android to sit down at his desk, glowering when Connor sat on the edge. “Then why were you late? What held you up?”

Hank held up his hand again, watching the android’s LED quickly go from gold to cerulean in seconds. “Just shut up for a minute. Jesus, Connor, lemme get my thoughts together.”

Connor held his tongue, waiting patiently for Hank to speak. Finally, the man sighed, shaking his head. “A kid came through my window last night, ‘fore I got home. He’s harmless, cut himself on some glass. I overslept ‘cause I spent a few hours tryin’ to get him to sleep.”

There were a few moments of silence before Connor spoke. “I’m sorry about the window, Lieutenant-- assuming the window he entered through was the one I broke. But... how old is he?”

Hank shrugged, rubbing his chin. “Dunno. All I got from him was his name. Colton Robinson. Looks young, though, late teens.” He looked up to see the android’s LED spinning yellow, and he groaned. “Don’t tell me you’re lookin’ up his name to see if he’s a criminal. That kid’s so easily fuckin’ scared that it ain’t funny.”

Connor’s eyes narrowed, and he spoke. “I can’t find anything on him specifically... but I found--” A hand was placed over his mouth, and he glared at Hank, who glared right back.

“Told ya to shut up. He ain’t a criminal. I don’t wanna hear anything else from you ‘bout him, got it?” Reluctantly, Connor nodded, and Hank removed his hand from his mouth. There was silence for a few moments before Connor spoke again.

“Could I meet him? If you’re alright with me coming to your home again, of course. Only to satisfy my curiosity, I promise.” He held up a hand when Hank’s ice-blue eyes stared a hole through him, but after a few moments, the man sighed in defeat.

“Alright, but we’re goin’ in through the front door.”

“I detect sarcasm in your response, Lieutenant.”

“Fuck you.”

--

Hank was careful as he opened the front door, not wanting to disturb Colton as he and Connor entered. He’d given the kid one of his old hoodies and a pair of his old sweatpants to sleep in, seeing as his clothes were wet and had his own blood on them, and in addition he’d given him pillows and blankets to use on the couch. So as they both walked to the living room, that’s where Colton was-- fast asleep on the couch, curled under the blankets with just his head out from under them.

“Heh... I was hopin’ he’d still be asleep. Good to know Sumo ain’t as useless as a guard dog as I thought. Well--” He glanced over at Connor, whose eyes were wide as his LED flashed yellow more frantically. “Uh... Connor?”

He carefully shoved the android’s shoulder, and Connor blinked rapidly, looking over at him. “Apologies, Lieutenant... I seem to be getting conflicting readings when I scan him. Did... he mention anything at all about himself?”

Hank shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest. “No, like I said, he only gave me a name. But he also kept hidin’ his right arm from me, tried to ask if he was injured but he said no. Hey-- what’re you doin’?” Connor carefully lifted the blanket from the boy’s arm, grateful he was laying on his left side. Both he and Hank were left speechless when, as Connor pushed up the sleeve, the unmistakable alabaster color of an android limb became visible.

“No fuckin’ way he’s an android. His blood was red, it was on my fuckin’ floor.” Hank moved to stand next to Connor as the android knelt down to study Colton’s face. “He’s not an android. That much I can say for sure. He seems to have a few android components on his body, and I can understand why he would want to hide them from you. He had a black eye recently, and a scrape on his neck. They’re healed enough that you can’t see them, but I can.”

Connor was keeping his voice soft, but Colton wasn’t a sound sleeper-- he had nightmares so often that it affected his sleep, even if he had a rare night of complete sleep. So as Connor was looking away, Colton’s eyelids were fluttering, and as if on cue, when Connor looked back into his face, his eyes were open. Instead of two normal gunmetal blues staring back, though, his right iris was glowing softly, pulsing a gentle blue much like Connor’s own LED.

The blue soon turned to yellow when Colton realized just how close the android was, and that his arm was uncovered-- and before either Hank or Connor could do anything, Colton was off of the couch. He backed away until his legs hit the table, hiding his right arm behind him again even though they’d seen it.

Hank was quick to cross the room, stopping just behind the couch when Colton looked like he was going to run. “Kid, it’s alright. Connor’s my partner. We’re not gonna do anything to you.”

Connor’s gaze was focused on Colton’s eye. As he approached-- slowly and calmly, so as to not spook the boy-- he kept his focus on it. As he stood in front of Colton, he was able to fully scan the eye, discovering something that fascinated him.

“Hank... these components are early prototypes. His eye is the earliest prototype of an LED-- originally androids had one normal-looking eye and one eye with the LED attached, but the LED was moved to the temple to make it easier to see.” Colton stared at Connor in amazement, his eye returning to a gentle blue as he shifted to sit at the table-- he kept his arm behind him, though, at least until Connor held his hand out.

“May I?” Colton hesitantly slid his hand between Connor’s, a slight shock going through his body-- though he couldn’t interface with androids, apparently he could still feel when they touched his arm. It was more than just the normal pressure something would have on it, it was full feeling, and it was strange and intriguing at the same time. Connor was busy scanning the limb, his thumb grazing the panel under his wrist-- the panel that didn’t do shit, as Colton had previously discovered-- when he turned his head back toward Hank.

“This is one of the earliest android limbs put into circulation... before they made androids more human in appearance and began adding artificial skin.” He looked to Colton again, squatting down in front of him and releasing his arm. “Is there anything else that you can show me?”

Colton seemed hesitant, his fingers pulling at the hem of his shirt. But looking into Connor’s eyes, despite them not being human eyes, made him at least feel like he would be okay, and he swallowed, leaning over to grasp the ends of his pant legs. He slowly pulled them, one at a time, up until they were above his knees. Hank was shocked at what he was seeing, and he moved to stand beside the table, staring in bewilderment at Colton’s legs.

Much like his arm, they were of the same plastic material that all android limbs were comprised of. His legs, from the knees down, were pure white, though when Connor took his ankle and lifted his leg, both he and Hank saw that the bottoms of Colton’s feet matched his skin-- meaning the soles had been attached separately. “These are both from the same batch his arm came from...” Connor mused, more to himself than to either Hank or Colton.

Colton looked... ashamed. That was the only word Hank could think of to describe the expression on the kid’s face, besides upset. He didn’t seem uncomfortable with Connor’s examination, but he looked distant-- more distant than he was with Hank the previous night. Against his better judgement, he carefully placed a hand on Colton’s shoulder, feeling the boy jolt slightly in surprise but ultimately relax once he knew it was Hank.

Connor stood, and Colton quickly pulled his pant legs back down, bringing his knees to his chest as the android leaned back against the couch. Crossing his arms over his chest, Connor’s expression showed that he was deep in thought. “How does a healthy human end up with three android limbs and a prototype eye on their body, especially one so young?”

The question was rhetorical, really. Connor hadn’t meant for Colton to answer, but the boy’s soft voice was loud enough for both of them to hear. “My father put them there.”

Both Hank and Connor’s heads snapped up, and they looked straight at Colton, then at each other. Connor’s LED flashed red for a split second before returning to yellow, and his eyes were wide as he spoke. “Hank-- at the precinct I was trying to tell you that I’d found something. Not on Colton, but on someone sharing his last name.”

Hank and Colton were both watching Connor now, and the android moved to stand in front of Colton again, his voice unfaltering. “Is your father’s name Oliver, by any chance?” The way the boy’s muscles tensed was enough of an answer for the partners, who looked at each other grimly as Connor continued his train of thought.

“Oliver Robinson’s name is one that isn’t heard much anymore. Elijah Kamski hired a few people to help design his first androids, but Oliver’s designs are the ones that Kamski followed the closest. I knew his name from when Amanda was giving me files on CyberLife to consult with, but it didn’t occur to me until I saw it again when I was searching at the precinct.” He pursed his lips, brows furrowed in thought. “That means... Oliver might have been testing his creations before he could get them approved.”

The small nod from Colton was all the confirmation the Lieutenant and the android detective needed. What they didn’t expect were the words that followed.

“I watched him build the parts. Wh-when I was younger, he’d let me play with the spare or unneeded components.” He swallowed, and when Hank squeezed his shoulder, he leaned into the touch. “H-he was a good dad, until my mom... died.” Clearly there was something beyond that statement, but neither Hank nor Connor were willing to prod further. “After that, h-he... knocked me out. I woke up... like this... covered in blood, and everything h-hurt... and I ran.”

Colton felt his vision blurring, and his breath hitched. “I-it was four years ago, a-and I still s-see him when I fall asleep. I...” Tears interrupted his words, and he buried his face in his hands, his breaths hitching and threatening to morph into sobs. Hank and Connor shared a look-- though Hank’s eyes showed more pain than Connor’s, they understood each other perfectly.

Connor knelt in front of Colton, under the pretense of pulling him into an embrace-- and while Colton froze at first, he wrapped his arms around Connor’s neck near-automatically, making it easier for the android to place his hands under Colton’s legs and lift him. Looking back at Hank, Connor was surprised to see that the Lieutenant was gesturing for Connor to follow him to his bedroom, and even more surprised when he motioned for Connor to lay Colton on his bed. Certainly, in Connor’s mind he thought that maybe Hank was thinking about his son, and what he’d do if this were Cole-- but he dared not say anything, instead just laying Colton on the bed and gently patting his arm as he moved away.

Hank’s fatherly instincts had kicked in. Of course, he wasn’t this way with every kid that he came across-- he’d seen more kids at homicide scenes than he’d wanted, but this was... different somehow. He couldn’t really figure out how, if he was honest with himself. But he didn’t focus on it, instead just pulling the covers over Colton and sitting down next to him, gently wiping tears from his face, then running a hand through his hair.

“You don’t gotta say anything else, Colton. You just try’n sleep, alright? Connor and I ain’t goin’ anywhere, just in the next room. I’ll even let Sumo in to keep you company, if you want.” A small nod, and before Hank could turn around, Connor had already called the St. Bernard, who trotted into the room and leapt onto the bed, laying down next to Colton. The boy smiled shakily, immediately wrapping his arms around the dog’s neck in a hug, and Sumo did nothing but snort, his tail smacking against the bed.

“Sleep well, kid. I’ll be back later.” Hank didn’t turn out the lights as he and Connor left the room, keeping the door open a tad in case Sumo wanted to leave later. He grabbed Connor by the arm and pulled him to the door, whispering to the android. “Do me a favor-- look for more information on that fucker, his dad. Prick doesn’t deserve to be called that, really. I wanna know--”

“Apologies, Lieutenant... but I was already doing so while you were tucking Colton in. It appears that about a year ago, Oliver Robinson was found dead in his home. Suicide. He left a letter, but it was covered in too much blood to be readable.” Hank’s tension faded, and while Connor would have been worried to see relief on the man’s face were it any other human being that had been found dead, even he knew this was an exception.

“Hope he’s rottin’ in Hell, where he belongs.”

--

Colton had been sleeping on the couch again, despite Hank telling him he could sleep with him-- Hank had found that the kid could be stubborn, about as bad as Connor, except Hank didn’t have to live with the android. Unsurprisingly, Sumo stayed in the living room with Colton, not that Hank really minded.

But tonight was different.

The Lieutenant nearly jumped out of his skin when he felt someone crawling into bed with him, and he quickly jumped into his more alert state of mind, turning on the bedside lamp... to find Colton, looking an equal amount of sheepish and scared as he was halfway under the covers.

“Jesus, kid... you scared the hell outta me.” His tone wasn’t angry, or even frustrated-- just tired. He’d found that it was hard to get mad at Colton, he was just too nice to be frustrating. “Is everything okay?”

Colton swallowed, looking down at the sheets and anxiously rubbing them between his fingers. Hank knew right away from how red his eyes were that it was a nightmare-- probably a pretty bad one, too. “Got it... c’mon over, kid.” At least now, Colton had begun to trust Hank more-- and it showed when he pressed himself against Hank’s side, resting his head on the man’s shoulder.

Hank chuckled at just how quickly Colton had moved over, ruffling his hair-- but as he lowered his arm, feeling for where the blanket was, his thumb brushed Colton’s side and the kid squeaked, jolting. Hank’s brows raised, he knew Colton hadn’t been injured-- mostly because he stayed around the house, and with Hank around his harassers had been few and far between. So...

“You alright, kid?” The fact that Colton was covering his side and nodding his head very quickly sold it for Hank-- clearly, Colton wasn’t hurt. “You sure? You made some godawful noise, I wanna be sure nothin’s wrong.”

Before Colton could protest, he’d been pulled into Hank’s lap as the Lieutenant sat up-- and Hank wasn’t even trying to hide the grin on his face. Colton squirmed slightly, already starting to giggle despite himself-- he might not have had many good memories of his father, but this was one of them.

“I’m not even touchin’ you, and you’re already laughin’? You must be real ticklish, then.” The word itself made Colton blush bright red, and he ducked his head against Hank’s shoulder, making the man snort. He jumped as he felt fingers digging into his side from where Hank had pulled him over, and immediately, hysterical giggles poured from his lips. He twisted in Hank’s hold, but only succeeded in making the fingers migrate to the side of his tummy-- and that was when he shrieked, genuine laughter escaping him.

“Shit, kid, you’re a sensitive one, ain’t you?” Hank chuckled and moved his other hand to tickle Colton’s tummy as well, aiming for the middle rather than just the side-- and the dam broke completely, Colton tossing his head back against Hank’s shoulder as his laughter became louder. “Seems like I found a bad spot here, huh?”

Colton was laughing too hard to be able to say anything-- that was how it had always been. In the back of his mind he remembered one day when he was younger, when it was just him and his father in the house, before his mother died. How his father chased him up the stairs and tickled him until he was near tears, and held him until he fell asleep afterward.

Of course, Hank wasn’t his father, but when the older man’s finger wormed into his navel, Colton certainly felt that they must have known each other somehow, what with how they both targeted his worst spots as soon as they found them. His body jolted and he tried to squirm away from the tormenting fingers, but found himself unable to-- he was tired, and despite him grabbing onto Hank’s wrists to pull his hands away, it was no use.

His laughter quickly became silent, his eyes squeezed shut as tears of mirth formed in them-- but before they could fall, the tickling stopped, and his whole body slumped, his head laying back against Hank’s shoulder as he wheezed softly.

“You alright, son?” If Colton had been more aware, and less out of breath, he would have frozen where he was. Hank had never called him anything but “kid” or his name... and it was strange to hear that word come from someone else, someone other than his father. He sluggishly nodded his head, glad that at the very least, his slight blush would be confused for being out of breath. As soon as he was able to breathe normally again, though, he knew he couldn’t just leave the man’s question verbally unanswered. After wrestling with himself for a few moments, he cleared his throat, finally speaking.

“I’m alright... dad.” It was Hank’s turn to freeze, and Colton felt as though he’d done something wrong. He closed his eyes tightly again, waiting for Hank to kick him out, or yell at him, or just get pissed at him... but it didn’t happen. Instead, Hank smiled, mussing up Colton’s hair and chuckling when he yelped.

“Alright, enough excitement... I gotta get up early, or Connor’ll come an’ break another window to get in if I don’t show up on time.” Colton giggled, starting to move away as Hank reached to turn off the lamp. He was surprised when Hank looped an arm around his waist and pulled him back over, squeaking again like he did earlier.

“Where d’you think you’re goin’, kid? I told you t’sleep over here, you don’t gotta be shy.” Colton didn’t respond at first, but slowly he leaned to rest his head against Hank’s chest, the sound of the man’s heartbeat helping him as he closed his eyes. When Hank began to card his fingers through Colton’s hair, that was it-- he was out like a light.

Hank wouldn’t notice it in the dark, but for the first time in a long time, Colton was actually smiling in his sleep.