Thread by @CeilingKiwi

Hank is further ahead in line than Connor is. He got off work only fifteen minutes earlier, but he didn’t bother to wait around for Connor. There’s no telling when the booth giving out thirium rations will run out, so every minute counts.

It makes Connor’s heart clench to think about how Hank shot out of the station the moment he was able. He didn’t even stop to tell Connor where he’s going, or to kiss him goodbye.

Connor’s needed a refueling for two weeks. Hank loves him too much to waste time.

He can see the top of Hank’s silver hair ahead of him in line. He doesn’t know if Hank knows that Connor is behind him. He wishes Hank would look at him, give him a reassuring smile.

But with power limited to two hours a day in residential areas, Connor can’t waste Hank’s battery with a text alerting him to Connor’s presence.

But then almost as if Hank hear his thoughts, he glances over his shoulder. His face softens and he gives Connor a tired smile.

Connor smiles back, giving a small wave. At that moment, it’s almost enough to make Connor believe that everything is going to be okay. Even if they can’t talk. Even if they’re going to be stuck in this line for hours.

It’ll all be over some day.

Time passes. The line inches up the street and through the crumbling face of the Cyberlife distribution center. Connor sees Hank’s head dip as he reaches the booth at the front of the time and leans down to deal with the agent.

Even with his audio processors turned down to save power, Connor can still hear the conversation.

“Human?” A cool female voice. Exhausted and hoarse.

“Uh, yeah.” Hank is bristling slightly. “We’re an android household, see, I have a ration card—“

“Sorry, no thirium. Next.”

“Wait.” A scuffle of deer as Hank pushes back whoever is inching up behind him. “Wait, what do you mean, ‘no thirium?!’ I’m entitled, I have a ration card—“

“New policy. Only androids are authorized to receive a thirium ration, not every member of an android household.”

“New policy—since when?! What the fuck is this for, then?!” A crinkle of paper.

“Step away from the booth. Next in line.”

“No.” Hank hunches over further, his voice tight and low. “No, please don’t do this. He’s a prototype model, he needs more than a monthly ration.”

“Hank,” Connor breathes from too far away. He clutches at his shirt above his thirium pump regulator. “Hank, don’t do this.”

“Step away from the booth before I have you removed. Security—“

“For fuck’s—please!”the crowd around Hank shifts, full of anxious energy. “/Please!/“

Connor loses Hank’s voice then in the muttering of the crowd and in the shuffle of moving feet and arms. He sees Hank pushed out of the way by a guard toting a submachine gun, and for a single gut-wrenching moment, Connor is sure Hank is going to do something to get himself shot.

But then Hank’s shoulders slump and he stares at the booth in blank dejection as though he has no idea what to do next.

“Hank,” Connor says a little louder.

He doubts Hank actually heard him, but Hank turns anyway. The bewilderment and rising despair in Hank’s eyes cuts Connor.

Hank ambles toward Connor and crashes heavily into him in a hug.

“No cutting,” the android ahead of them says.

“We’re behind you,” Hank spits viciously, and buries his face in Connor’s hair. “Christ. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

“There’s nothing you could do. We’re lucky to have had this much for this long.”

Hank’s hold on him tightens, and Connor breathes in Hank’s comforting scent. Hank is here. Everything is alright. Even when his system runs down, everything will be alright with Hank by his side.

“We’ll figure this out,” Hank whispers. “You’ll come back next time with both cards. You’ll get... our son’s ration along with yours.”

Connor nods. Some long forgotten protocol within him balks at the possibility of committing fraud, but he won’t leave Hank alone in the world.

The android behind them shifts, their stress level rising. Probably wondering whether Hank is intending to take their place in line.

“You should go home.” Connor lightly pushes Hank away. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to stick around.”

Hank leans in for one last quick kiss. Then he lets go and walks away.

An efficient goodbye. Efficiency is everything in a war economy.

Connor is about to turn toward the front of the line when he hears an android fall in step next to Hank. “Excuse me, sorry to trouble you...”

“Then don’t bother me.” Hank doesn’t pause to look at the android.

“I couldn’t help but hear they wouldn’t take your ration card. The new policy—“

The little patience in Hank’s voice evaporates. “You cant have it.”

Hank and the android are pulling further and further away from Connor, but he can still hear the android’s voice take on a more desperate tone. “I have kids who need thirium. My partner has a leaking leg; she’d use up more thirium standing in line than you get in a ration—“

“I said no. Piss off.”

At that moment, the android they’re passing in line jumps out at Hank and grabs him just as the android walking next to him does, and Connor realizes with a horrible start that the two androids are the same model.

One android snatches at the ration card in Hank’s hand, but Hank punches them in the face. He tries to throw the other one off, but they have him around the neck, and Connor can see tendons straining under Hank’s jaw. The first android rallies again and hits Hank in the gut.

Connor stands frozen in place as though he were in a preconstruction. Ever fiber of his being is screaming at him to run to Hank’s aid. He needs help.

But his thirium ration. He won’t last much longer without it, and the center runs out earlier and earlier every day.

Hank would want him to stay in line. Hank would beg him to stay in line.

Connor watched helplessly, feeling as though his heart is being torn apart as he stands by, unable to make a choice—

“The hell’s going on over there?!” The same guard who pushed Hank out of line hurries toward the fight, already lifting her gun. With her face turned toward Connor, he can see how young the guard is, how she’s shaking with anxiety and adrenaline.

All the soldiers are gone, this is an untrained girl who’s barely more than a teenager with her gun aimed right at the man who nearly caused a scene two minutes ago, aimed right at—

“Stop!” Connor rushes out of line and barrels into one of the androids attacking Hank.

He wrenches Hank away from the androids and runs down a side street, dragging Hank by the hand behind him.

“Stop running! Hey, come back here!”

Connor can hear the two androids run in the other direction as the guard shouts at them.

“Connor! God damnit, stop! Your fucking thirium—“

Connor keeps running until the chance that the guard is still following them becomes negligible. It isn’t for very long, but Hank swears and shouts the entire time.

When Connor stops running, Hank pushes him against a wall.

“Connor, why the fuck couldn’t you stay in line?!” Hank’s hands shake as they clutch the front of Connor’s blazer. “I had it handled!”

“Hank—“

“What the fuck are you gonna do now? How long before we manage to get some thirium now?”

“Hank!” Connor has to shout to be heard.

"That guard had her gun drawn on you." Connor's voice doesn't waver even though he still feels weak thinking about it. "She was going to shoot you."

Hank falters. "...You don't know what she was going to do."

"The probability was high enough that I had to. I just had to."

Hank's mouth is drawn in a severe line, and Connor knows what Hank is thinking. Despite what Connor just said, Hank still wishes Connor had stayed in line. He wishes Connor had put himself over Hank.

It's the exact same sentiment that led Connor to throw away the chance of getting the thirium he desperately needs to run to Hank's side. They are each other's greatest weaknesses, and yet Connor will never let go of Hank. Not when they have nothing else left but each other.

Connor's arms creep around Hank's middle and Connor closes his eyes against Hank's face.

A pause. Hank lets out an exhausted sigh and his grip on Connor's shirt slackens to let Hank rest his hands against Connor's chest.

"I'll come back tomorrow," Connor whispers.

"We work a double tomorrow." Hank's voice is flat with weariness, but Connor can still detect the foreboding in his voice. The worry for Connor's future.

Connor waits for his system to present a solution to him. Nothing happens.

"I'll come back as soon as I can. It'll work out."

"Christ... Connor, are you gonna be okay?"

Connor disabled system warnings regarding his thirium level several days ago. He doesn't want to know about the system disruptions he could begin to experience at any moment.

"I'll be fine," Connor says. "It's all going to be just fine."

Hank sighs again.

"Let's go home. You need to eat something."

"/You/ need to fucking eat something." But Hank relents, wrapping his arm around Connor as they begin toward the closest bus stop.

"Don't worry about me," Connor says. "I'm going to be alright."

Hank presses a kiss to Connor's temple. Connor can't feel it.

"Everything's going to be alright," Connor says. One way or another, everything will work out in the end.

END