#door 11

By @fadedflame

All I Want For Christmas

Hank was officially losing his mind. For the past few years, he had been content to let Christmas pass by as just another miserable day on the calendar. One more day to drink himself into a coma over how the world should be and never would be again. But this year was different. For many reasons. With the revolution just barely in the rearview mirror and most of the city’s population still evacuated, it looked like, for once, Detroit shared his cynical sentiment towards the holiday. There were no gaudy decorations hanging in every store window, no lights strangling the light poles. The city was bare. And of-fucking-course this was the first year in ages Hank wanted to celebrate. It was going to be Connor’s first Christmas after all. It should be special. He wanted to make it special for him. But the damn city was making that really fucking hard. He couldn't even find a gift for the android. With barely a month under his belt as a sentient being, he only had the basic grasp of the concept of ownership and wanting things. He was still deciding what he liked. Even if most of the shops weren't shut down it would have been hell trying to find something suitable.

"Fucking hell," Hank swore, pulling into the driveway. It was getting ridiculous. Even Walmart had been closed. He pulled the keys from the ignition harder than he intended before shoving the door open and making his way to the house. "I'm home," he called into the mostly dark house. His only response was a soft boof and the sound of clawed feet padding across the floor as Sumo came to greet him.

"Hey Sumo," he told the dog. "Where the hell is Connor?" He got his answer in the form of a post-it note stuck to the wall by the coat rack. Went to New Jericho, be back tonight it read in perfect CyberLife sans. Hank sighed, pulling the paper free of the wall. Connor had been spending a lot of time at New Jericho lately. He knew the kid got stir crazy. He was made to be efficient and idling wasn’t efficient. He had already scrubbed the whole house from top to bottom, despite Hank’s protests. With android employment laws still up in the air, he was blowing his circuitry trying to find a way to occupy his time. So, he’d jumped at the opportunity to help over at the android sanctuary as soon as Markus had proposed the idea. Only problem was that now, more times than not, Hank was coming home to an empty house.

“Looks like it’s just us again,” he said sadly. He stroked Sumo’s head gently, the old dog whining as though he understood why he was upset. Maybe it was for the best, Hank reasoned. It was good Connor was making friends, good he was getting out of the house and experiencing more of the world. After all, what did he really have to offer the kid? He couldn’t even manage to throw together a decent Christmas.

Hank sighed again, loudly, as he walked to the kitchen, resigned to another microwave dinner with only his dog for company. Then, Sumo decided to go lay down in the living room dashing even that dream. He watched the sad excuse of a meal spin around in the microwave. Was it a new low, relating to the damn thing? What was he, besides a hunk of semi-warm meat spinning around in circles? The appliance dinged, signaling his food was ready, but Hank didn’t have an appetite anymore. He tossed it unceremoniously onto the table before going to get a fork and sitting down in his seat heavily.

Hank poked at it disinterested as he stared across the empty house. He hadn’t really turned on any lights, so the whole place looked as gloomy as he felt. No wonder Connor didn’t want to stick around, he wouldn’t either. He put the fork down, a thought occurred to him. Maybe that was something he actually could fix. Most of the shops may have been closed, but Hank still had his old Christmas decorations laying around. He could spruce the place up, make it look festive. At the very least, he could definitely use some Christmas cheer.

Sad excuse of a dinner forgotten, Hank rushed to the garage where he knew most of the shit had been stashed. At least the boxes were labeled. He had still cared about keeping it somewhat neat the last time he had put it away so, for once, he wasn’t cursing out his past self. He hauled the boxes back into the house, swearing as he struggled to get them through the door. He set them down in the living room, one after the other, as he took the multiple trips to shuffle them all inside.

“Why the hell do I have so much shit?” he complained to no one. Boxes finally where he could use them, Hank started sifting through the mess of decorations. So much for it being kept neat. He’d forgotten he even had most of this stuff. Strings of lights were tangled in the antlers of some plastic reindeer, a couple of fake poinsettias had been squished beyond recognition, and a set of glittery snowflakes and stars had completely coated everything beneath them in a sparkly mess.

“Well isn’t that just fuckin’ perfect,” he grumbled. Hank pulled out the mass of lights, figuring he could at least start there. One of the reindeer fell loose right away, giving him confidence that the situation wasn’t completely helpless. But of course, as was Hank’s luck, that was when Sumo decided he was interested in what he was doing. “Sumo, no!’ he scolded as the St. Bernard took a mouthful of the lights.

“Drop it! This isn’t a fuckin’ toy!” Sumo didn’t listen. He responded to Hank pulling on the string by pulling back. Hank lost his balance, pitching forward and landing square in the box he had been going through. He wasn’t sure if the crunching sound he heard came from whatever he landed on or his hip, but it hurt like hell.

“Bad, dog!” he scolded. Sumo trotted away happily with his prize. “Fucking mutt,” Hank swore, easing his way out of the mess. He was now covered in glitter too. He probably should have cut his losses at that point, but he was a stubborn bastard and wasn’t about to let his own dog beat him. He chased after Sumo, and tried wrestling the lights out of his mouth. Sumo thought it was one hell of a game. He boofed happily around his mouthful of decorations while he played the increasingly frustrating round of keepaway.

“Damn it, Sumo,” Hank shouted. Finally, he got his hands on the tangled mass, only for the dog to bolt in the opposite direction. The end result, being Hank hitting the floor again, leg caught in the knotted wires. Sumo dropped the lights, barking at his downed master happily.

“I bet you think this is fuckin’ funny, don’t you?” The dog padded back over to him, licking his cheek and adding slobber to the mess that he already was.

“Um, Hank?” a concerned voice called from the doorway. “Are you alright?”

In the mad shuffle with Sumo, Hank had failed to notice that Connor had gotten home. The android was staring at the scene in front of him in shock, door still open with his hand on the knob. His LED flashed a worried yellow. Well shit, this wasn’t what he wanted Connor to come home too.

“I’m fine,” Hank barked out, struggling to get up and look at least halfway dignified. Unfortunately, his legs were still tangled in the string of lights. He only made it about half way up before he tripped again. Connor, lightning quick as always, rushed forward and managed to catch him before he could faceplant again.

“Damn it!” Hank swore as the android helped him sit comfortably on the floor. He was starting to think the crunch had been his hip. Sumo, the traitor, huffed indignantly now that the 'game' was over. He wandered past the carnage he'd caused to take a nap on his bed in the corner.

“What’s going on, Hank?” Connor asked. Poor kid looked more confused than he’d ever seen him before. “What is all this?”

Hank pulled at the lights around his legs harshly.

“You’re a damn supercomputer aren’t you? What the fuck does it look like?”

“It looks like… Christmas decorations,” he answered hesitantly, almost as though he didn’t think Hank really wanted him to respond.

Damn, now he was making the kid feel bad for his own miserable fuckery. That’s the last thing he wanted.

“Sorry, Connor,” he sighed, trying to calm himself enough that he wouldn’t be taking it out on him anymore. “It’s... been a long day.”

“I’m inclined to believe that,” he said with the faintest hint of a smile. “But why were you… decorating?”

Hank finally pulled the wires free.

“I just thought… I don’t know. Maybe you’d wanna celebrate, or something.”

Connor only looked more confused.

“I was under the impression you hated Christmas.”

“What?” Hank frowned. Where the hell had he gotten that idea?

“I was informed that you had an aversion to the holidays,” Connor said, picking up one of the half smushed ornaments. “That it would upset you even to bring it up.”

“I don’t hate Christmas,” Hank countered. Ok, yeah. It was fair. After Cole… well, he hadn’t really felt like celebrating the past few years. But he actually had something to be thankful for now, a reason to be happy. He wanted to celebrate. “I just… hated not having someone to celebrate with.” Oh great, now he was getting all mushy. That was just perfect. Connor though, didn’t appear to mind. His smile deepened and those damn puppy dog eyes of his lit up as he seemed to decipher the meaning behind his words.

“I would love to celebrate with you, Hank,” he said happily, taking a seat next to him.

“You sure?” Hank asked before he could stop himself. “Wouldn’t you rather be with your friends?”

The confusion had returned to Connor’s face.

“You are my friend,” he reasoned.

“You are, yeah,” he was quick to reassure him. Hank definitely didn’t want the kid to think he didn’t want him or anything. “I just thought… I mean, with how much time you’ve been spending with Markus and his crew…”

“I’ve been helping at New Jericho because I enjoy being useful,” he corrected him. He plopped the broken ornament back into the crushed box. “Considering how my programming made me oppose the revolution… I want to assist where I can.”

“Kid, you know that wasn’t your fault.”

“I know,” Connor agreed readily. “I’m aware of that, and I have accepted it, but there is still a lot to do and I feel obligated to help while I can be of assistance.” He went on before Hank could counter him. “I like Markus and the others, they are very pleasant people, but that doesn’t mean I don’t like it here. Every day, what I most look forward to is coming home.”

“Don’t see why,” he groaned, looking at the disaster the house had become in just the past hour. Connor deserved better than this. The kid just stared at him, giving him the most earnest, innocent look he had ever seen, as though his reasoning should have been the most obvious thing in the world.

“You’re here,” he said simply.

Fucking hell, Hank was not going to cry. No way, not happening. Without a word, he reached over, pulling Connor into a tight hug. What the hell had he ever done to deserve this kid?

“You’re more fucked up than I thought if you think me being around is a good thing,” he joked.

Connor seemed to melt into the embrace. He always did, the touch-starved puppy he was.

“I wouldn’t be here without you, Hank,” he said into his shoulder. “I mean it, I don’t think I can explain how grateful I am. Everything you’ve done for me… I wouldn’t be alive if it wasn’t for you.”

“You don’t need to be grateful, kid,” Hank insisted. He pulled back from the hug, looking Connor in the eye. “You deserve a hell of a lot more than I can give you.”

“You gave me a home,” Connor answered. “You gave me a family. What more could I possibly want?”

“You know, most kid’s your age would be pissed as hell if I was all they got for Christmas.” Hank chuckled, diffusing the heartwarming sappiness before he could burst into tears.Connor took the hint, joining in the joke.

“I’m four months old, Hank. Most kids my age can’t even speak yet, much less understand the concept of Christmas.”

“Alright, fine. You win, smartass,” Hank said, admitting defeat. The kid practically grinned at him, satisfied with his victory.

“If it helps,” he said thoughtfully, “I believe I have come up with something I want.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that?” he asked, surprised.

Connor dug back into the box and pulled out a small pine wreath that had somehow survived the earlier chaos.

“Can I help you decorate?”

He couldn’t help but chuckle again, then wrapped an arm around his shoulders in a half-hug.

“Course you can,” he said, watching his face light up like the excitable kid he was.

Sumo boofed happily from his bed in the corner, apparently he was also eager to 'help'. Maybe it wasn’t the end of the world that he couldn’t get Connor anything fancy this year. Just having each other as family was more than enough. After all, he had the rest of his life to spoil the crap out of the kid.

By @wolfgangamaderik