Yeah, well, that’s what a projection would say, Connor.
“Not a fuckin’ projection,” jeeze...
[Hank is mumbling that latter bit to himself, wondering what to do with his demolished muffin — eat it, anyway? Throw it at projection-Connor just to be an asshole?
But then Connor says “Sumo,” and Hank’s expression softens. There could still be a million reasons this Connor knows about Sumo — maybe the AI is reading his mind, for all he understands of technology's bullshit — but Hank wants to believe. The alternative is too depressing.]
Connor.
[Hank’s voice is quiet. Almost sad as he really takes Connor in, but he’s relieved. Of course he is. It’s just all so damn weird.]
Don’t scare me like that.
[He says this as if the misunderstanding is Connor’s fault, but of course it’s not. Hank’s just stubborn and old, and his stomach growls again, but he ignores it.]
C’mere.
[Hank doesn’t even give Connor a chance to acquiesce or not. He closes the distance between them, patting Connor’s shoulder with his free hand — but then he drops the muffin so that he can wrap his arms around him, because fuck the muffin, this is Connor.]
Really thought you were a projection there for a second, Connor.
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Yeah, well, that’s what a projection would say, Connor.
“Not a fuckin’ projection,” jeeze...
[Hank is mumbling that latter bit to himself, wondering what to do with his demolished muffin — eat it, anyway? Throw it at projection-Connor just to be an asshole?
But then Connor says “Sumo,” and Hank’s expression softens. There could still be a million reasons this Connor knows about Sumo — maybe the AI is reading his mind, for all he understands of technology's bullshit — but Hank wants to believe. The alternative is too depressing.]
Connor.
[Hank’s voice is quiet. Almost sad as he really takes Connor in, but he’s relieved. Of course he is. It’s just all so damn weird.]
Don’t scare me like that.
[He says this as if the misunderstanding is Connor’s fault, but of course it’s not. Hank’s just stubborn and old, and his stomach growls again, but he ignores it.]
C’mere.
[Hank doesn’t even give Connor a chance to acquiesce or not. He closes the distance between them, patting Connor’s shoulder with his free hand — but then he drops the muffin so that he can wrap his arms around him, because fuck the muffin, this is Connor.]
Really thought you were a projection there for a second, Connor.