#moralmayday22

It still wasn’t time to go and see the technicians for a checkup to assess his capacity for returning to work, but Connor was adamant he wanted to go out somewhere before then, and since Hank had promised that if he rested well he could choose somewhere for them to go out, it was agreed upon, as long as he brought enough thirium and didn’t walk around for too long.

“So, where do you want to go?” Hank asked.

Changed into another of his new shirts, this one a blue button up with koi fish on it, and a pair of black cargo shorts, Connor was sitting on the edge of his bed, LED processing as he looked up a variety of nearby options.

“How about… there is the Detroit Aquarium,” he suggested, coming out of his long thread of internal research. “That looks like somewhere interesting to go to.”

“You really just thought of that right now?” Hank questioned with a raised brow. “Cause from your outfit it looks like you’ve been planning to go there all along.”

“I just like fish, and you bought me this shirt.”

“Yeah, soft fuckin’ sod I am… alright then, let’s get ready to go to the aquarium. But no wearin’ that damn hoodie, alright? It’s hot as balls, and I promise ya, if anyone says anything mean about your skin, I’ll knock their lights out.”

Connor set down the hoodie he’d been about to pull on, looking at Hank. It would be the first time he’d been out in public how he was now… but he wanted to go out, not stay at home all day. And even if it wouldn’t make him feel any less self-conscious, he trusted what Hank said. With a nod, he followed Hank out of his room, leaving the hoodie behind on his bed.

On the car journey there, Connor relayed a healthy amount of information to Hank, about 40% of it going into his brain, the other 60% falling straight out again, since he was trying to focus on the road ahead of him. Luckily, though, it seemed as if Connor was content to talk to him despite the lack of response sometimes.

“There’s over 2,000 creatures at the aquarium, with 10 themed exhibits,” he began, flicking the quarter between his hands, spinning it atop his fingertip. “They have a 180-degree underwater tunnel which has sea life ranging from sharks to sea turtles. There’s a touch pool where you can touch sea stars and anemone.”

“They should hire ya,” Hank commented, mentally preparing to dodge in case Connor flicked the coin at his face again.

“The 180-degree underwater tunnel has 120,000 gallons of water,” he continued, as if he hadn’t heard Hank, “and the tunnel is 15 feet deep. It’s so large that every week it has to be cleaned by scuba divers.”

“Damn, I would not want to be those guys.”

Connor looked at him now, head tilted in question. “Why not? You would get to be up close with a wide variety of fascinating sea life.”

“Cause sharks freak me the fuck out.”

“I do understand fear being irrational so I will not talk you out of your dislike… however, many things that harm the shark’s reputation are actually myths, shared due to sensationalised stories and stereotyping. They do not actually kill many humans, but instead are killed at mass themselves, often in millions per year to take their fins, depleting their populations worldwide. And this is harmful for marine ecosystems.”

“Well… damn,” Hank remarked, “they still scare me, but that’s pretty shitty. Guess that’s humans for ya.”

“Fortunately there has been a rise in conservation efforts towards the shark population, just as there has been trying to bring polar bears back from extinction, for example… so, not all humans are particularly shitty.” He looked at Hank with a smile.

“We are not getting a pet shark.”

When they arrived at the aquarium, Hank chuckled to see Connor getting out of the car before him and half-heartedly warned him about moving slow and not running off anywhere, because he was still healing. His LED flashed yellow as they waited in line at admissions, bouncing on his toes, clearly impatient if the rapid coin flicking was anything to go by.

As soon as they were allowed inside, his LED went back to spinning blue and he would have run off to the first exhibit if Hank hadn’t taken his hand and told him to ‘slow the F down’. It was unusual to hear Hank censoring his expletives, but Connor supposed it was due to the heavy population of children with their parents in this environment.

Walking through the freshwater exhibit had Connor peering inside the lake, catching glimpses of fishes swimming beneath the surface. They hadn’t opted for a map because Connor told Hank he’d downloaded it in his mind, and the less shit to carry in his hands the better, Hank decided, and so he let the walking and talking equivalent of Google Maps lead him around the aquarium.

They walked through at a leisurely pace, but Hank couldn’t stop Connor from breaking free of his grasp when they reached the interactive touch pool exhibit. He stopped and waited patiently until a group of children had finished, before stepping forwards himself and crouching down in front of the little pool.

He reached out his hand, slowly at first, breaking the surface of the water, LED processing as he adjusted to the sensation, before reaching down and feeling a sea anemone under his fingertips.

Hank crouched beside him, reaching a hand inside too.

“There’s 9 species of fascinating creatures in here… it’s modelled after a west coast tide pool.”

“Eugh, what’s this under my hand right now?”

“That’s my hand, Hank…”

Hank laughed and reached to the side. “Whoops, my bad. Your hand was kind of slimy. What about… this?”

“That’s a blue sea star,” he replied, glancing up as a worker walked towards them. “They get their colouring from a blue pigment called linckiacyanin.”

“That’s right,” the worker added, then turned to Hank. “Careful, your kid’s gonna put me out of a job.”

Hank chuckled, tracing his finger along the sea star, feeling the bumps over its body. “He just really likes fish. And dogs. And most animals.”

He looked across at Connor, and that was when a realisation hit him… he really did seem to like animals. It was where he seemed to be most at ease, interacting with them, watching nature documentaries (even the ones where sharks devoured their prey in a bloody mess). It was rare outside of these instances where he seemed truly relaxed.

He was broken out of his thoughts when Connor got to his feet, cleaning his hands before moving on to the next exhibit.

“Hey, wait up!”

They made their way through the next series of exhibits, from the shoaling bay where they viewed a 360-degree display of shoaling fish, with flagtails and pilchards and even some spiny lobsters at the bottom, to the doodle reef, and then the stingray bay exhibit. This, Connor informed hank, was Michigan’s only sandy stingray beach. He seemed particularly interested in this one, spotting baby sharks inside and becoming mesmerized by them for ten solid minutes. Hank practically had to pull him away, to go and sit down for a little bit since he’d seen him flagging from where he was standing, and shoved the bottle of thirium into his hands, telling him they could continue once he’d drank it.

After that was the shipwreck exhibit, where Connor pointed out the six-foot long wolf eel, which, surprisingly, didn’t freak Hank out, instead commenting that it was kind of cool. And then came the tropical ocean exhibit, which Connor informed him was where the 180-degree ocean tunnel was.

“As I said before,” Connor commented in a hushed tone as they walked through the tunnel, looking all around him as fish swam overhead and to the sides of them. “There’s 500 creatures here… Look, a shovel nose shark.”

Despite his reservations, Hank followed Connor the side of the tunnel where the big shark was swimming and stopped. “Huh, that one actually isn’t so scary. He’s got a big pointy nose.”

“He can hear you,” Connor responded, affronted on behalf of the shark.

“I think he’s cute.”

Hank wondered to the other side of the tunnel, watching as a turtle swam by. “Turtles are big fuc—uh… big guys, they’re real big.”

“That’s because that one was a giant green sea turtle. They’re about three to four feet long when fully grown, and weigh from three hundred to five hundred pounds.”

“Damn… that’s like… at least three Sumos.”

“Correct,” Connor nodded, continuing to walk down the tunnel. “Sumo is 170 pounds, so, considering that sea turtle was 355, it was exactly 2.08823529412 Sumos.”

Hank stared at him as he rattled off the series of numbers. “Alright, calculator boy.”

After the ocean tunnel came the jellyfish display, and then the coral reef, before lastly, the conservation cove. By this point, Connor was panting a little from the exertion, a hand on his chest, and Hank not so discretely steered him to a nearby sitting area.

“You sit here for a bit, okay? Get some energy back. I’ll be right back.”

Connor nodded, and Hank took that as his cue to leave, heading down the hallway, checking Connor was where he left him.

He had one destination in mind: the gift shop. It was always a fun part of excursions like these, and he figured the kid could do with some more interesting things in his room since all he had right now was his best, nightstand, and wardrobe.

It took a little browsing, but eventually he found what he was looking for. There was a souvenir guidebook detailing the exhibits and creatures inside them, and whilst he knew Connor had all the information downloaded into his brain, it wouldn’t hurt to get him a book about it. He always liked having a book in his hands instead of looking stuff up online or using one of those tablet book things with the touchscreen surfaces that broke half the damn time.

After that, he found something a little more fun—a medium-sized grey shark plush toy. Connor had wanted a shark, maybe this would be enough. He didn’t want him to think he considered him a child, but toys weren’t just for kids anyway, he decided.

Lastly, he picked up a drawstring bag with a turtle on it for himself, figuring a bag was always handy and the turtle had been pretty cool to look at. He then made quick work of paying for his stuff, before heading back to where he’d left Connor.

“Alright, it’s just a little gift from me, but—” he stopped as he reached the empty chair, a curse on his lips but kept inside as he remembered where he was. “Connor?”

He looked all around him, all the chairs in the seating area empty, and so he went further out towards where the exit was. But he had no luck here, and instead returned inside, phone in one hand as he typed a hurried text, asking where the fuck he’d gone to.

Just as he came past the seating area and back towards the last exhibit, however, he stopped typing, finally spotting him.

“Thank god, jesus christ…” he breathed, walking towards him, placing a hand on his shoulder as he caught his breath. “Con, you can’t just wander off like that, not when you’re… you’re…”

His voice trailed off as Connor seemed entirely unresponsive to both his touch and his voice. He looked at him, noticing the flashing yellow LED, and then followed his gaze. He seemed to be looking at an android, who was walking around with another android, and—oh, he seemed familiar.

“An HK400…” Connor mumbled, LED flashing red as he spoke these words.

“Oh, shit…” Hank mumbled, before glancing around him, hoping no one had overheard. “Just like that android from before, huh?”

“Yes, from the Ortiz case.”

Hank nodded, looking back at Connor again, noticing his shaking hands and the mixture of negative emotions flashing across his face.

“C’mon, son… let’s get back to the car.”

He was thankful that Connor didn’t avoid his hand this time as he took him by the shoulder and led him back out to the vehicle.

As they got inside, Hank glanced at Connor and the fact his LED was still funky colours, before looking at the bag in his hands. He nodded to himself before taking the shark out, and mimicked swimming motions with it, dancing it in front of Connor’s vision. This seemed to break him out of whatever trance he’d fallen into, and he reached out for the shark before pausing.

“Is it for me?”

“Yeah,” Hank replied, “I got you this shark and a book about all the fish in there. And I got this cool bag for me, by the way, so don’t go stealin’ it.” He placed the book on Connor’s lap with his free hand, but the shark was left hanging in the air, not yet taken.

“Do you think I… deserve this?”

Hank shoved the shark into his hands with a weak glare and was glad when it was taken. “Of course you fuckin’ do. I didn’t steal it, so it’s not like they’re gonna come and take it away again.”

“Thank you.”

He checked behind him for any pedestrians or other vehicles, before pulling out of the space and then the parking lot.

“Thank you for the gifts,” Connor continued, “and for bringing me here, L—Hank. I enjoyed it greatly.”

“Yeah, no problem.” Hank smirked as he noticed Connor was running his fingers along the embroidered gills on the shark. “See, much better for me for you to have something like that in your hands than the damn coin. You can’t hit me with a toy.”

“Ulterior motive, then,” Connor commented with no real heat behind his words.

“Yeah, my other motive was also for you to get something a bit more interestin’ in your room. It’s so bland in there, it’s like a sad beige modern home. Did Cyberlife make you programmed to detest colour and enrichment in your life?”

Connor chuckled. “They certainly didn’t equip their androids with a need to enjoy colours, or enjoy anything for that matter. Unless of course they had a specific career that involved exploring colours, such as an android working in a paint store who would need to provide advice to customers on what to purchase.”

“Well, we’re gonna get some colour into your room. It’s already in your wardrobe, we’re gonna go even further.”

“I would like that.”

Hank nodded. “Yeah. And hey, I enjoyed today too. Even if some of those animals are kinda fuckin’ scary, it was still interesting seeing them all and learning about them. You’re like a walking animal encyclopaedia. It was better than having to wait our turn to ask the workers about stuff, and get lost half the damn time trying to follow a map. In union is strength, or whatever they say like that. Good we went there together.” He paused. “Good doing stuff like this with you. We should do more stuff like today.”

“Yes, I agree.” Connor nodded and meant what he said. Even if there was a part of his mind that told him he didn’t deserve to enjoy stuff like this, not when there were so many who could never enjoy anything because of him… even if any glimpse he had caught of himself in the glass exhibits had reminded him of the trailing lines down his body… a reminder of what had happened, and what could have happened if he hadn’t succeeded. The HK400, the deviants who’d never got a chance to live— and Seventy.