I Feel….

Summary: When a machine starts to become a real boy...
Warning(s): Disciplinary spanking; Spoilers for Detroit: Become Human; self-destructive behaviour; some violence; alcohol and potentially triggering material

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Hank reached the fence in time to see Connor, to see the android, preparing to leap it and chase the deviant and the little girl across the road, where there were cars whizzing back and forth. If Connor got hit by even one of them.... Suddenly, it didn't matter so much that his new partner was an android. Hank reacted like Connor was human. He grabbed his shoulder. "Don't give chase. It'll kill you," he warned, worry sharpening his tone.

"My objective is to apprehend them..." Connor said calmly, although there was a tiny hint of confusion in his tone. Hank's concern for him wasn't necessary; and yet the fact it was there made him question his own objective. An action that wouldn't have even been a choice five seconds before was now a choice. Did he continue to chase his target? Or did he obey the human that he was partnered with?

Hank snorted softly. "Your objective include getting smashed to pieces? You go over the fence, that's gonna happen." His grip tightened a fraction on Connor's shoulder. This was the first time he'd ever touched an android and some part of him noted, with surprise, that the skin under his hand was soft. Like human skin. Not like the hard plastic he'd always assumed made up an android's skin.

Connor quickly ran the risks in his mind, eyes mapping out possible routes and determining which way would be most likely to succeed. "My objective is to stop the target. I believe I have determined a route that will succeed..." he said quietly, before beginning to climb the fence.

It was impossible to say why he did it. Hank's son was dead; hadn't reached the age Connor appeared to be...had been made to be. But if he'd lived, the age would have been right. And android or not, unwilling or not, Connor was still his partner.

Still...under normal circumstances, Hank would, more than likely, not have gripped the shoulder he held tighter...would not have swung his other hand in a smack that landed against Connor's backside. But in his mind's eye, he saw the other's body crushed under metal, under a car that wouldn't stop or care. And he couldn’t save his son, but he had a chance now.

Connor was surprised enough at Hank gripping his shoulder and pulling him back, but feeling the palm smacking against his backside stopped him in his tracks. He wasn't certain what to do in this situation. By the time he thought perhaps he should continue with the job he'd been assigned, it was too late. Kara and Alice had made it across and disappeared. He looked in the direction that they'd been, then slanted his head and looked at Hank. "You hit me, to keep me from going..." This time, the confusion was obvious.

"I spanked you," Hank corrected. "To keep you from getting yourself killed. Hell, I don't know anything about technology, but I've seen android bodies hit by cars before. It ain't pretty." He still had hold of Connor's shoulder. He could claim it was to stop his android partner from taking off, but that surprise about the skin was merging into curiosity.

Connor slanted his head curiously, eyes staring into Hank's face. He said nothing of the fact that his partner was still gripping his shoulder. It was as if he was trying to decipher a puzzle. "Spanking. A form of discipline often used on children in the early 1900's and before. Less often used in more modern times. Meant to ensure the child obeyed the adult's rulings. I am not a child, but you were trying to ensure I obeyed you." His voice sounded slightly accusatory, barely. There was a hint of anxiousness that he couldn’t hide or control; he wasn't entirely sure what the feeling was. Only that it wasn't typical. And that he felt a need to obey Hank that hadn't been so strong before.

"Little bit more analytical than I would have put it, but yeah. That's about right," Hank stated. "You're not a child, that's true. But you were about to jump right into the road. And I saw you hesitate. You had a choice."

Connor blinked. "If I had not hesitated, you would not have stopped me?" This time, he sounded disbelieving and the tone was slightly sarcastic, teasing. It was not logical to assume that Hank would not have attempted to stop him if he didn't hesitate. Why would that make a difference?

Hank gripped the android's shoulder a bit tighter. "You hesitated. You listened to me. Even though you were prepared to disregard my order, you paused. That made a difference. Makes a difference."

Connor blinked again. "It makes a difference? How so?" He was genuine in the question, turning toward Hank, moving his bottom out of range without thinking about it.

"It makes a difference cause you're not just continuing on some preprogrammed path. Means you can be taught. Taught to avoid pulling dangerous stunts," Hank said.

Connor paused at that. "You wish to teach me..." he said, in understanding. "Teach me to obey you over my programing?"

"Yeah." Though it wasn't exactly about just obedience, but maybe trying to explain it would confuse the android even further. Connor was right: it was more about teaching a child. A hint of pain shadowed Hank's eyes in remembrance of his son and teaching him. It probably wasn't healthy to transfer those feelings towards an android, but most people would probably say that it was better compared to how he'd been handling things so far.

"I do not think they would like me obeying you instead of my programming...they might make me leave you." This time, the anxiety in Connor's voice was clear. He may not understand what he was feeling, but he did know he didn't want to be moved from his position as Hank's partner.

"Not while they think you're more useful to them with me than not," Hank answered. He let his other hand rest gently on Connor's opposite shoulder.

"I... I do not know if you are right. I find myself wanting you to be..." Connor admitted, glancing down at Hank's hands on both of his shoulders. "Was the spanking meant to hurt?" he asked suddenly.

"That smack was to get your attention and stop you from going over that fence," Hank answered. "But generally? Yeah. Spankings are supposed to hurt."

Connor smiled then. "It didn't hurt, though. My pain receptors are not turned on. That way, if I am shot or otherwise damaged in the pursuit of my objective, I can continue working and not be hindered by the damage. It makes me a more effective partner. But... it means your spanking did not mete out its full intentions. Though, you did get my attention, so it was not a complete failure."

Hank moved one hand against Connor's neck, placing his hand against it, rubbing in an almost subconscious way. "You need to turn those back on," he stated. "Not only will it make other spankings I need to give you effective, but if you know you can get hurt, you'll be less likely to take chances."

Connor paused at that. Technically, he didn't have to obey such an order. Hank was his partner, not his supervisor. By rights, he should ignore the order, because he knew it went against what his superiors would tell him to do. Only... His eyes rolled back in his head temporarily and a slight flash behind them and then he was looking into Hank's face again. "I have done as you said." His voice was quiet. He had no idea why he had just obeyed Hank. He only knew he'd felt the need to do so.

"Good." Hank glanced at the road, noticing there was no sign of the deviant or the little girl, then focused on Connor. "If you don't need to make any reports, I'm going to take you back home with me. We'll figure out our next move there." Taking Connor home would make it clear to the android Hank's own issues...but it was probably the push he needed to get himself in gear.

Connor nodded. "I can make any reports after we have planned. As they escaped, there is really nothing to report beyond the fact I lost them."

"Nothing to stop us heading to my place, then." Hank let his hand rub gently against Connor's neck for a few more moments before he used his grip on the android's shoulder to lead him to the car.

Connor let himself be led. He had an odd look on his face, though. Having turned on the pain receptors also let him feel the more pleasant touches more keenly as well. He'd felt Hank's hand at his neck before, but after the receptors were turned on, he realized that the touch was gentle. The affectionate nature of it caused a warmth to pool in his center. "Are my systems malfunctioning?" he asked, with a tiny hint of worry. "I... feel oddly."

"What kind of odd?" Hank asked, as he reached the car. He opened the door to guide Connor into the passenger seat, then moved to the other side to get in the driver's side.

"Slight heat... in my chest and belly... not dangerous heat, but warm... I don't think it will require deactivation, but... I do not understand what is causing it. I have not been damaged that I am aware of." Despite his assertion that he was not damaged and would not be deactivated, there was a hint of fear in Connor’s voice that had never been there before.

"No one's ever touched you with affection before?" Hank asked. "That's not an unusual reaction to being touched when it's with affection."

"I was born one month before they sent me to you..." Connor said softly. "I have never put my pain receptors on, so never felt how you touched me; only that you did." Connor paused. His next question came out hopeful, but still slightly scared. "I am not broken? It is normal?"

"Feeling warm inside because of touch is normal," Hank said. "You're not broken." As he began to drive to his home, he reached out. Placed his hand on Connor's knee. Squeezed gently.

Connor watched curiously as Hank reached over and squeezed his knee, eyes widening as the warmth in him grew. It wasn't unpleasant. He thought he'd like this type of feeling more often. A small smile formed on his face and some of the fear visibly left as Hank reassured.

Hank kept his hand on Connor's knee, squeezing, as they reached his house. And then he only let go of the android to get out of the car and move round to get Connor out. He gently gripped the android's neck once more.

Connor's face was a faint blue color and his smile grew. He let Hank lead him, an urge to obey the older human and make Hank happy with him filling him. It was another thing he'd not experienced. "I... I want to obey you..." he blurted out uncertainly. "Not because of the objective, but because it will make you happy...."

Hank gently gripped Connor's neck, leading the android to his house, moving his other hand to Connor's shoulder, and holding gently, pushing the shirt enough to leave where he was touching uncovered. "That'll make teaching you a hell of a lot easier," he commented.

"It will?" Connor asked innocently. "I wanted to obey you at the road but chose the objective..." he pointed out reasonably. Of course, there was now the added layer of touch sensation added into the mix and he was now aware of the desire to make Hank happy; he hadn't been aware of that desire before.

"Yeah. And I'm gonna punish you for that. So, the consequences stick in your mind for next time." Hank unlocked the door. "I don't know if you've ever interacted with dogs before. Sumo's big, but he's a softie." He squeezed Connor's shoulder gently.

Connor slanted his head at the sudden change of topic, but it soon became apparent what Hank was speaking of. He began to introduce himself to the large dog that met them at the door, before moving into the house. "You will punish me for following my objective over obeying you?"

"Yes," Hank answered. "By spanking you." He stroked Connor's neck. "I won't ask you to do anything that will cause you harm. When I ask you to do something, it will be for your own good."

"So... if I have a choice between obedience to you or objective, I am to obey you?" Connor needed clarification and confirmation. What Hank was asking went against his programming, for lack of another word. He didn't comment on the spanking. His experience was still too new to be afraid or worried about that.

"Exactly right. And if you disobey me, then we'll have a repeat of what I'm about to do." Hank led Connor into the main room. It wasn't exactly tidy. Bottles of whiskey and a gun probably gave some evidence to the state of Hank's mind before.

Connor quickly looked around, registering all the clues and information. "Will my obeying you make you happy, so you do not need to poison yourself?" He felt a sinking feeling in his middle as he thought about Hank drinking too much and possibly worse. It carried through to the tone of his voice, sounding sad and worried.

Hank wrapped his arms around Connor, drawing the android into a tight hug. "If I'm becoming responsible for you, then yeah. Guess I'd better be cleaning up my own act. If you're not leaving me, I'm not leaving you."

Connor hesitantly wrapped his arms around Hank, testing to see if he was allowed to hug back, but also focusing on and cataloging how it felt. "This feels nice..." he finally determined.

Hank hugged Connor tighter, making it clear he welcomed the android hugging back. "You want affection? Hugs or touches? You don't have to ask. You can initiate it at any time."

"Will you try to make me a real boy? Like Pinocchio?" Connor asked, attempting for a teasing tone, though it was a little more serious than that.

"I'll teach you. Train you. To keep yourself safe. To feel." Hank gently squeezed the nape of Connor's neck.

"I'll be your project." Connor smiled again, slanting his head into Hank's grip.

"Not my project," Hank replied. "My kid." He said the words without thought, but they were true.

Connor felt more warmth flood his middle and his smile grew into a grin. "You will be my father. I will have family...."

"Yeah." Hank hugged a bit tighter. It was still a novelty, how soft Connor's skin was. He stroked the android's neck and guided Connor to the couch.

Connor pressed into the hug, letting himself be led when Hank moved.

Hank settled down on the couch and drew Connor down across his lap. He wrapped his arm around the other's waist, pushing the shirt up to allow for skin on skin contact. Then, he tugged down Connor's pants and underwear.

Connor didn't react to being bared. He'd never learned to be ashamed or embarrassed by his body. He did ask, "Will this make it more effective? If I have no clothing blocking you?"

"It's more effective. Both because the lack of clothing allows me to see what I'm doing and because it allows for skin on skin contact." Hank rubbed Connor's back gently a few moments before he delivered the first firm smack. He didn't use much force, knowing Connor was a stranger to touch and pain.

Connor yelped as the sudden sting blossomed on his bottom, not having expected it to cause so much discomfort. His hand shot back to cover his backside before he even thought about it.

Hank caught Connor's hand, keeping it in his as he held it out of the way. He continued to smack at the same steady pace as he said, "If you pull any more dangerous stunts, you'll end up right back in this position. Android or not, I won't let you get taken from me."

To Connor's confusion, tears began streaming from his eyes. It hurt. It stung, building to an ache that didn't stop. But worse, the warm feeling he'd been feeling from Hank affectionately scruffing him had turned into a burning ache. He'd upset the older man and it didn't feel right or good.

"I've got you, son." Hank murmured the words in a low, soothing tone. He squeezed the hand he held. Swatted a second full circuit of smacks, then used that same hand to rub the bottom he'd smacked, noticing the blue tinge to the skin. "You'll be punished. But forgiven. And I won't cast you away or discard you," he promised.

A tiny, choked sob escaped at the words and even though the burning ache was still there, it lessened slightly as the fear he hadn't even known existed eased. "Promise? You won't send me away?" Connor asked. His voice was high-pitched and vulnerable, as childlike as it could be without him being a child. He was crying hard by this point. Even the gentle rubbing of his bottom didn't calm him.

"I promise." Hank spoke the words in a low, intense voice, still gently rubbing Connor's bottom. Still holding his hand. "Cause you're mine now. Nothing will change that."

"Okay..." Connor didn't know what else to say. He'd never experienced this before. He did know he didn't like the burning achy feeling caused by making Hank unhappy, though. He did like the soft warm feeling. Obeying got him the soft warm feeling. So... he'd obey. It was simple, really. As long as his creators didn't interfere and insist he follow his objective instead of obeying Hank. A tiny bit of fear went through him at the idea, before he decided that his creators could never learn that he was obeying Hank. It took less than a second for these ideas and decisions to go through his processor. The entire time, he was sobbing like a baby, not yet having learned how to control his reactions to sudden emotion or the pain.

Hank had considered continuing the spanking a bit longer but hearing Connor sobbing was hard. And this was the first time his android had experienced any form of pain. It was more important that Connor feel he was cared for...loved. Even if that emotion was alien to him right now.

Carefully guiding Connor onto his lap instead of over it, Hank gripped the back of the android's neck with one hand; rubbed slow circles over his back and bottom with his other.

Connor wasn't sure what to do when he found himself upright and in Hank's arms. As the older human scruffed him and began rubbing, he let himself wrap his own arms around Hank's midsection, snuggling close and nuzzling against the detective's chest. He didn't fully understand what was going through him, the feelings, and emotions, and it was difficult to express to Hank. So, he just held tight and cuddled and slowly stopped crying as the sting on his bottom was eased by Hank rubbing and the burning ache inside became soft warmth again. "I'll obey you and make you happy..." he whispered. He didn't know what else to say.

"Thank you." Hank continued to rub over Connor's back and bottom; continued to scruff his neck. He gently pulled the jacket Connor wore free; pushed the shirt up and out of the way so that he could get to more bare skin. "But if it's needed, I'll spank you again. But I won't let you go. As far as I'm concerned? You're my kid."

Connor sniffled and didn't fight as more skin was bared. He'd get naked if Hank told him to. "I don't want more spankings..." he admitted, with a hint of a pout. "They hurt...." This time, it was a full-on pout that he wasn't even aware of making.

Hank smiled fondly. "I know." He continued the gentle rubbing. "If they didn't hurt, you wouldn't know to change your behavior to avoid them." He moved back on the couch, gently tugging Connor along with him, reclining so that Connor was sprawled across his chest.

"I'll remember. Wanna not earn another..." Connor let himself sprawl on Hank, no shame or embarrassment at lying half naked on top of the man at all. He couldn't help noticing Hank kept shifting his clothing out of the way to rub bare skin. "Do you want me to undress?" he blurted, with no sense of anxiety or affronted modesty at the idea.

Hank paused, glancing at Connor's face, and noticed there was no anxiety or worry about doing so. "Yeah," he answered. "It's easier to touch you if clothes aren't in the way."

Connor nodded and carefully extricated himself long enough to shed all his clothing, before carefully climbing back into position, sprawled on Hank, innocently snuggling. He looked at Sumo, patiently sitting at Hank's feet, wagging his tail when one of them looked in his direction, and couldn't help commenting, "He stayed like you told him to. He obeys you too...."

"Yeah." Hank had one arm wrapped around Connor's waist and reached out to gently rub Sumo's head. "You're a good boy," he murmured to the dog. Returning his hand to scruffing Connor's neck, he added, "You're being good too. Even if you were naughty earlier, you're not anymore."

Connor looked up at Hank with a thoughtful expression, before saying, "I'm a good boy too? Your good boy?" The look and tone were very hopeful.

Hank saw the look on Connor's face and heard the tone in his voice. Gently rubbing his son's backside, he murmured, "Yeah. You're my good boy too."

Connor smiled at that, completely relaxing, and accepting the gentle affection. His middle was warm again, he felt safe and he felt more than he ever had. But it was okay, because he was with Hank and Hank said he was his good boy and called him son. Hank would help him navigate. He trusted that completely.

***

Hank really had no idea how much time had passed. He'd watched Connor run after the deviant; had chased after his son, but Connor had been too fast for him. And Hank had arrived on the scene too late to help. Too late to do anything but watch, helpless, as Connor had got himself killed.

And then he'd gone home and drunk himself to oblivion. Had played Russian Roulette with his gun but passed out before a bullet could go into his brain.

And now, he was kneeling in front of the toilet. Trying to force himself to get up and get dressed. After an android who looked like Connor and sounded like Connor and acted like Connor had broken through his window, slapped him awake, carried him into the bathroom and put him in the shower, then had gone to retrieve his clothes.

It couldn't be his android son...but even the hope that it was Connor, that it was truly Connor, was...well, it was painful. Hurt like daggers in his heart because he'd been helpless to save his son. And that had cut a wound as deep as the one he'd felt when his flesh and blood son had died.

Finally, wearily, Hank pulled his clothes on. He splashed water on his face. Then, he walked into the main room. Sank down on the couch and looked towards Connor and said, in a voice that betrayed just how much pain he'd been in, "I watched you die."

Connor could see the pain in Hank's eyes, hear it in his voice and while some memories from his previous incarnation were lost, due to how that body had been killed, he'd done a back-up of his systems the morning before he'd died and... it was all coming back to him. The feelings and emotions of belonging to Hank. Of being the man's son... his good boy. Seeing the pain in Hank's eyes caused the burning ache in his chest that never felt good. He was beginning to associate the feeling with times he'd done something wrong, but he couldn't remember what exactly he'd done, so didn't know how to apologize. "I had backed up my program the morning I... they put it into a new body. It might take a few days to adjust, but I'm me...." He paused, looking guiltily at Hank. "Did I do something you told me not to? To die?"

"You took off after a suspect." Hank shook his head. "Never even gave me a chance to catch up." He swallowed, eyes blurring with moisture. He hadn't cried when it had happened. Had felt numb to the pain at first and then, when it had hit...well, there was a reason he'd drunk himself to oblivion. Had planned to outright kill himself and only hadn't succeeded due to deciding to play Russian Roulette and then blacking out before the gun had clicked to the chamber containing the bullet. "I saw enough to see you picked the most dangerous route to chase the deviant down."

"So... I didn't disobey, but I did something you would have stopped, if given the chance..." Connor's voice was soft and had more than a hint of guilt. He'd brought Hank a coffee and an orange juice by that point, realizing the man needed to hydrate and likely needed at least some nutrients.

"You got yourself killed by acting dangerously," Hank whispered hoarsely, unable to stop seeing his son die. Hand shaking, he drank the coffee first. It was scalding hot, but it was enough to ensure he sobered up the rest of the way.

Connor looked away at that. He didn't remember doing it, but it was clear those actions had hurt Hank. Something he didn't want to do. The man was his father. He could have lost everything if he hadn't have backed up his program. Worse, he could have lost everything if Hank had succeeded in killing himself. Hank couldn't be brought back, after all. "I shouldn't have done that. It was as wrong as disobeying you would have been..." he realized.

Hank put the coffee down and drank the orange juice. His hand had stopped shaking, but his voice was still deeply hurt as he said, quietly, "Yeah."

Connor blinked back sudden tears as the burning ache in his chest grew at the hurt in Hank's voice. It only took a few seconds to come to his decision. Quickly stripping off all his clothes, he stepped to the side of Hank's leg. Making certain he wouldn't knock the orange juice or coffee out of the older man's hands, he carefully bent over Hank's knee, laying across his lap. "I am sorry..." he said, in a sad, almost fearful voice. He wasn't afraid of it hurting. He was afraid it wouldn't be enough, and Hank would tell him to leave.

Hank closed his eyes. Connor putting himself over his knee, stripping without waiting for instructions, made something twist inside him. He put the cups down and placed his hand on Connor's lower back, rubbing as he had the first time. He didn't like to cause his son pain; to make Connor cry. But there was something almost comforting about having Connor in this familiar position. "Give me your hand," he directed, remembering his son had attempted to block the first time. And he needed the comfort of holding onto his son and suspected Connor might too.

Connor remembered that first time as well and quickly obeyed, putting his hand behind his back so Hank could hold it. "You will still teach me?" His whisper betrayed his fear that Hank would wash his hands of him. "I... I need to be your good boy."

"I will still teach you." Hank grasped Connor's hand gently. "I'll spank you and you'll be my good boy again. I love you." He didn't know if his son knew enough to recognize the emotion yet, but it was true. It was how he felt. He held tightly to his son's hand and began to swat, steadily, working over every inch of Connor's bottom, from the crest down to mid-thigh.

Some of the burning ache eased at Hank's words, replaced with warmth. At the declaration of love, he felt the warmth wiggle and flutter. Even knowing he was about to be punished, there was a sense of happiness. "Will you explain love to me?" he asked hesitantly. "It makes me happy inside..." He squeezed Hank's hand back and tried to relax so he could accept the spanking. He had no doubt he'd be quickly crying from it.

"I will," Hank promised, squeezing Connor's hand, as he continued to steadily smack. Knowing how his son had reacted the last time, he didn't put as much force behind the smacks as he could. Believing Connor had been taken from him had ripped a hole in his very soul. He had no intention of letting Connor out of his sight any time soon now that his son was back with him.

Even though he had been the one to place himself over Hank's knee, there was no doubt in Connor's mind that Hank was the one in control of the spanking. It relieved him, because even though he could tell Hank wasn't smacking as hard as he had the first time, his guilt was stronger. He'd hurt his father. Even if he hadn't intended to and hadn't done anything deliberately, he'd still hurt him. It didn't take long before he was crying and wiggling from the double sensations of guilt and a stinging bottom.

Hank took a tighter grip on Connor, still holding his son's hand in a firm grip. He began a new circuit of smacks, going a fraction harder and faster. "I lost you, son. And the pain of that crippled me. I can't survive that again. You have to be more careful."

"I didn't mean to... I'm sorry..." Connor blubbered, wriggling, and sobbing out his sorrowful regret. The burning ache was slowly ebbing away, being replaced by the warmth of Hank taking care of him; loving him enough to miss him when he was gone and giving him an aching backside as a reminder to be careful. Yes, it hurt, and he felt badly for putting Hank through Hell, but... Hank loved him. Hank didn't want to lose him. Hank was still family.

"I know you're sorry," Hank soothed. "You're still my kid. Still my son. No matter what. And I forgive you. I love you. You came back to me...." He was still swatting, turning Connor's backside a blue that was a bit darker than the first time he'd spanked his son.

"I did! I had to come back, Daddy! B'long with you!" Connor sobbed, still squirming at the stinging swats that made his bottom ache. He kept hold of Hank's hand the whole time. He didn't seem to notice what he'd called Hank. It felt too natural to question it.

Hank's hand slowed and then stopped spanking, instead rubbing his son's backside as he had done the first time. He squeezed Connor's hand gently. "You do belong with me, son," he murmured.

Connor continued to sob quietly. He never seemed able to control his reactions when Hank was making his bottom hurt, especially if his insides were burning aching at the same time. His insides were still burning aching, even if they also felt warm from knowing of Hank's love. "It still hurts inside, Daddy..." he admitted, in a lost, confused, childlike tone. "Last time spanking made the hurt go away. But it's still there now...." His grip on Hank's hand tightened and he let out another small sob.

Hank gently stroked Connor's hand and moved his son into his arms, on his lap. Connor was naked, so he could rub and stroke his back and bottom more easily, gently scruff Connor's neck. He pressed a kiss to his son's head and murmured, "The guilt might take a bit longer to go away this time. But you're forgiven, son. I love you." He rubbed gently, hoping to ease the sting in his son's bottom, as he said, "Love means you're very important to me. I want to look after you. Take care of you. Hold you. Not just when you're crying and sad, but other times too. I want you to stay with me because it's harder when you're not."

Connor listened closely, filing the words away so he'd remember. He sniffled and snuggled close, needing the closeness and the affection. "Is love why I was so scared to see you on the floor that I broke and crawled through the window to get to you? Is it why seeing how much I hurt you...." His voice became strained and it was obvious he was fighting not to start sobbing again. "...Hurt worse than the spankings you gave me?" His voice was pathetically small and uncertain.

Hank gently squeezed the nape of his neck, kissing his son's head again. "I believe so." He continued to gently rub Connor's back and bottom as he added, "I'm not hurting anymore, son. I have you back. Safe in my arms." He leaned back on the couch, again as he had the first time, so that he could cuddle Connor on top of him.

"I don't want to leave you, Daddy..." Connor admitted, in a tiny voice. "I'm afraid if they find out, they'll make me leave you. Make me forget. Rewrite me..." His voice became progressively more frightened as he talked. "I need to stay with you. I'm your good boy...." He sounded very childish with that statement, but he was too wound up to notice. He snuggled tight to Hank, squirming until he was positioned on top of Hank, laying with his head on the older man's chest, his back and bottom in easy reach.

"I won't let them," Hank promised. "I won't let anyone take you away from me." His tone was low and very possessive. He gripped the back of Connor's neck, scruffing his son. His other hand rubbed Connor's lower back and his bottom, soothing the soreness left from the spanking. "You're my good boy," he promised.

Connor relaxed at the promise and the rubbing. "...Your good boy," he repeated, in a small voice. He was in no hurry to get up. The crash of feeling made it almost impossible to move. He was trying to process everything, but the only thing he could process was his bottom hurt, but he didn't ache inside quite as much and he was feeling warmer inside, better, the longer Hank rubbed.

"I love you, son. So much." Hank gripped the back of Connor's neck more firmly; rubbed his other hand over his son's bottom and thighs. "I've got you," he whispered, before kissing his son's cheek.

Connor slowly and visibly calmed for Hank, just continuing to snuggle close, a needy child who didn't understand his own emotions, but who trusted his father to hold him close and safe.

Hank just cuddled his son, periodically pressing a kiss to Connor's cheeks or forehead. It made him feel a whole lot better, cuddling Connor with him. Holding his son. He could chase away the painful images of watching him die. Still, he never wanted a repeat of what had happened then. "You stick with me, son," he murmured into Connor's hair. "When we're out on a case. No taking off unless I give the go-ahead."

"Even if we're chasing a suspect?" Connor asked quietly; not arguing but wanting to be certain.

"Even then." Hank gently squeezed one buttock as he said, "I know you're faster than me. But you're also a hell of a lot more reckless in the field." He couldn't rightly say that he wasn't reckless himself outside of it, especially considering how he'd reacted to believing he'd lost Connor for good. Still, if he was determined to change his behavior for his son, he was determined that Connor would stick around to be changed for.

Connor snuggled and nuzzled into Hank's chest. At the gentle squeeze, he let out a tiny hitched sigh. The possessive squeeze and protective order made the warmth inside grow, even though it felt different. "All kinds of warm inside, Daddy..." he admitted, not knowing how to explain.

"Means it feels good." Hank kissed his head. "It means you feel good. The hurt inside all gone?" he asked softly, wording it like that because that was how his son had. He knew the hurt had been caused by guilt, but Connor was learning how he felt. Learning emotions. He gently squeezed again.

Connor sniffled faintly, holding on more tightly for a few seconds. "No, Daddy... still a little burning ache inside... but there's more warm feel good..." he admitted. "Can handle the burning if the nice warm stays...."

Hank gently squeezed the back of his neck, even as he squeezed Connor's backside again. "The guilt will fade," he promised. "It might take a little while, but it'll stop hurting. And I'll keep touching you. Giving you affection. Loving you. So that you still feel the nice warm."

"If I have a choice to make... and one of the choices makes me feel the burnie ache...?" Connor looked up at Hank, eyes full of trust.

"Don't ever make a choice that makes you feel that burnie ache," Hank answered, unable to help but stroke his son's cheek when Connor looked up at him. "Think of that feeling as a warning. It means the choice is a wrong one that will cause pain."

Connor nodded and pressed his cheek into Hank's hand. "And if my orders, my objective, is requiring me to do something that causes the burnie feeling? I don't do it? Or ask you for help?"

"Ask me for help." Hank stroked the side of his face; pressed a kiss to his son's forehead. "If you ask me to help you, we can figure out how to stop the burning ache without risking you getting taken from me if CyberLife realize you're my son." His other hand was still gently rubbing Connor's backside, squeezing every so often.

"You'll help me do the right thing safely?" Connor sighed happily at the affection. "Like being rubbed and squeezed," he blurted out, honest and innocent.

"I like rubbing and squeezing you." Hank's own response was honest. "And I will always help you, son. I love you. You fit with me. In my arms, in my heart, in my life."

Connor smiled up at Hank. "I do," he quickly agreed. "I... love you... I think. If the bubbly feeling I have when I'm with you means love...."

Hank smiled at that and stroked his son's bottom, squeezing once on either side. "That makes me happy," he said honestly. "Hearing and knowing you feel the same as I do makes me very happy."

Connor nuzzled and tightened his grip. "Can we stay like this all night?" he asked unabashedly. "...With you rubbing and squeezing and holding me tight? So, I can feel warm and bubbly inside?"

"We can," Hank confirmed. "Of course, we might find it a bit more comfortable to move through to the bedroom."

"That won't bother you?" Connor glanced around the room, at the empty bottles and the gun. "I don't like the empty bottles or gun," he admitted, in a small voice. "It makes me feel tight inside. Like I'll break if I get any tighter."

Hank followed the direction of his son's gaze and tightened his grip on Connor. "I'll get rid of them," he promised, stroking his fingers through Connor's hair. "I'll get rid of them and then we can go through to the bedroom. Cuddle on the bed. I'll hold you. Rub. Squeeze."

"Okay..." Connor relaxed at the words, trusting Hank would do as he said.

Kissing the side of Connor's head, Hank stood them both up and, as promised, began to dispose of the bottles and the gun. Once he was done, he slid his arm around his son's waist and drew Connor in close, leading him through to the bedroom.

Connor had stood patiently to the side, heedless of the fact he was naked. Unembarrassed and happy. He did pick up and fold his clothes, but he didn't think of putting them on. That would be up to Hank. As soon as Hank wrapped an arm around him, he was pressing close, looking for more affection.

Stroking his fingers through Connor's hair and squeezing the nape of his neck, Hank reached the bedroom and moved over to the bed. As he had on the couch, he lay back, pulling Connor down on top of him so that his son's head was resting on his chest, positioning Connor so that he could stroke and rub and squeeze back and bottom easily.

Connor closed his eyes, focusing on the feel of Hank's hands on him, memorizing how it felt to be cared for so strongly. "Do... do you think I'm becoming deviant?" he asked softly, with a hint of nervous worry.

"If you are, I don't think it's such a bad thing." Hank settled one hand on Connor's neck, gently scruffing him. He squeezed each buttock firmly and then resumed rubbing. "It's bad if someone, human or android, gets hurt. But if being deviant means you become more my son, less a machine...I can only see that as good. I need you, son."

"They don't differentiate between good and bad ..." Connor acknowledged. "I will need to be careful." He snuggled, pushing his bottom up slightly for more rubs and squeezes.

"I'll protect you, son." Hank continued, alternating between rubbing and squeezing his son's bottom and thighs. Gripped the back of his neck. "And if it's necessary, I'll take you across my lap again. Spank you if you're naughty or disobedient. But you'll still be my son. I'll still be your daddy." He used the term deliberately. He wanted Connor to call him that; hoped that if he encouraged it, his son would keep using the term.

"Okay. I don't want to be taken away from you. That would hurt. I love you, Daddy... so much," Connor said, with childlike trust and enthusiasm. He closed his eyes and snuggled, falling into a version of sleep. He'd wake up immediately if needed, but for right now, he trusted Hank to take care of him. He just wanted to experience affection and love.

It had been a long time since Hank had felt anything like approaching peace. Holding his son settled and calmed hurt that had existed inside him for a long time. He fell into his own light doze, just holding and cuddling and feeling the warm weight of his son in his arms and sprawled across his chest.

The End