A/N: Another Hank-centric fic because I'm not original... and it was also Father's Day last Sunday (well, in other countries, since where I live it will only be in August). So, Happy late Father's Day to all the wonderful fathers out there! But if anyone has an abusive father - like I do - or your dad passed away, I give you my solidarity.

This is my first time writing Cole, so I hope it's good enough for a child character. And please excuse the lame title, lmao.

Enjoy!

"… dad? Dad! Wake up!"

Grumbling, Hank turns himself around to find the source of the tiny voice and the hand frantically shaking him. Despite the darkness, he can see Cole's terrified eyes, and his small arms hugging his stuffed dinosaur.

"Cole? What's wrong?" Hank suddenly awakes at the signs; though especially when a thunder roars outside, causing Cole to gasp.

"I-I don't like the storm…" The young boy tells him; he sounds like he's been crying. "Can I sleep with you?"

Heart breaking at his son's state, he instantly accepts it. "Aw, of course, bud. Hop on." Hank frees some space in his bed, which Cole takes over without hesitation.

As soon as the former tucks the latter in, the following thunder cracks in the sky with a lot more strength. Cole immediately seeks protection, arms reaching for his dad. Hank holds him close.

"Shh, you're alright, Cole. I've got you," Hank reassures him, hearing muffled crying. His little boy is shaking so much…

He doesn't let go of Cole for anything, whilst he hears heavy rain falling outside. Hank is surprised he slept through all that noise at first (even though work hasn't been easy lately). It's no wonder why Cole is so frightened.

"Why is the thunder so scary and loud? I don't like it," The boy sniffles after calming down a little.

"I don't like it either, Cole. But as long as you're inside, it's not gonna hurt you. It's just loud because the lightning loves showing off." Hank pulls him away slightly to look at Cole. "He wants to sound big and strong to everyone."

Cole pouts. "He's mean."

"He sure is," Hank snorts. Yet he softens his voice as he wipes the boy's teary face. "But he can't do you anything, okay? When there's a storm, get somewhere safe and hug someone, like your dad or your friend here," He gestures at the little dinosaur between them. "It can be terrifying… but it won't last forever. Okay, son?"

Even in the dark, his boy's eyes seem to sparkle like the stars. "Okay."

Smiling, Hank pulls him close again, the loud storm seeming distant now. "You're safe, kiddo."

"Yeah, 'cause I got my dad… who's way stronger than the lightning."

Hank laughs. "Damn right, I am."

"I wanna be strong like you one day."

"You already are, Cole." Hank kisses the top of his head. "I love you."

Cole lets out a small giggle and relaxes against him. "'Love you, too."

It's not the last night this happens. Hank obviously doesn't mind it and swears to protect his son from the storm, from anything.

Until there comes a day he knows Cole won't come to his bedroom. Followed by days when Hank faces the storm on his own, feeling the coldness of his wide bed.

(Cold like the snow and ice that led to destruction. Cold like his little boy's hand against his. Cold like the world that took Cole away from him.)

At some point, Hank adopts Sumo, a relatively older dog. Yet there are times Sumo hides under his bed and cries when the thunder is too loud, or when fireworks fill in the sky on certain dates. But it's not the same. It could never be the same.

Most nights, Hank passes out from the alcohol. Wanting to get as close to Cole as he can but failing. Mostly, because he's scared.

Otherwise, Hank never comes home and does not sleep, as he watches the sunrise in another cruel day in Detroit. Knowing his son won't see it all ever again.

This cycle remains for the next three years... until a different night comes.

Hank is awakened not by a voice, but by… licking.

"Ugh…" Opening his eyes, he finds the big Saint Bernard facing him. "Sumo? What're you doing here?"

Sumo whines in response as he smells Hank frantically. He doesn't seem scared, however… it's almost like he's telling Hank something. Second, Sumo couldn't have gotten inside on his own. As smart and big as the dog is, he can't get in there on his own, so he tends to startle Hank with heavy paws hitting his door.

His suspicions are further confirmed by a small, yellow light flickering in the hallway, giving away a figure trying to half hide itself.

"… Connor? Is that you?"

After a few silent seconds, he hears a defeated sigh. "… Yes."

While Hank should feel annoyed, since Connor can be a pain in the ass, he realizes that's not the case tonight. Not with Connor's vulnerable tone.

"What's wrong? You okay?" The older man asks.

"Yes, of course. I- I was going to…" Connor is usually a good liar. He was designed to be a skilled negotiator, but that's not what it looks like now.

Hank sighs. "Your light thing is all yellow, Con. And you sound shaky. What happened?"

He can pretty much hear Connor's computer brain working hard to come up with some bullshit, yet the android doesn't deny anything, nor pulls up his usual stubbornness.

"I couldn't…" He takes a while to admit, quietly, "I couldn't sleep."

The word choice catches Hank off guard. For one, an android detective that could kill a man – dozens of men – is the most vulnerable he's ever seen him. Although Hank has known that Connor is his own person beyond all the dumb protocols, this scenario is not what he expected to happen: Connor coming to Hank because… he can't sleep.

And, to be fair, it's not a bad thing.

(It just hits so close to home. A home Hank lost years ago.)

Hank snaps himself out of it as Connor's big puppy eyes do their thing, and teases, "Well, you comin' in or do you plan on standing there all night?" He then pulls out the covers to encourage him to come.

Without any protest at all – so odd coming from a stubborn smartass –, Connor complies in silence. He lies down and soon after, Hank tucks him in with the blankets. In the meantime, Sumo lies on the floor somewhere, as he hears the dog's heavy breaths.

Even then, Connor is… very stiff. Like he's trying hard not to take up so much space, nor relax into the bed. He's behaved like this since they started living together. As frustrating as it might be, Hank knows that Connor, having been created to be the perfect machine, feels as though he should face everything on his own. Just him coming here must have been one hell of an internal conflict.

"I'm sorry for disturbing your sleep, Hank," Connor apologizes, confirming his assumption. The other sighs in a mixture of annoyance, exhaustion and, above all, concern.

"Don't worry about it," The older man tells him. "You wanna tell me what's bothering you?"

The RK800 refuses to look at him. He faces the ceiling, his LED visible. Still very much yellow.

"I… I d-don't—" Connor gulps. He doesn't continue it, as if startled by something. As an instinct, Hank finds himself shifting closer to him, while not meaning to disrespect his space. Slowly, Hank places a hand on his chest. He feels his android heart beating fast. Too fast. Yet it eventually seems to relax at the contact.

So, Connor tries again. "I don't like blizzards."

It's only after he says that Hank really pays attention to it. He usually ends up turning himself off the world, so he now acknowledges there's a blizzard going on outside. He remembered from the weather forecast that it would only pass in the next day, and its peak happened to be tonight.

"I was… trapped in one, once," Connor explains, but gives no further details.

"You were?" Hank insists.

Connor nods. "I nearly couldn't get out. I-It was so cold, I couldn't see anything…" He sobs. "I th-thought I was going to die."

Meanwhile, the winds outside are furious against his window. Consequently, there are sniffles and a LED flashing between an anxious yellow and a violent red. Thus, Hank's heart drops when he realizes Connor is crying. He never thought Connor could cry, and it sounds painful.

"Shit," Hank mumbles in alarm. "Hey, Connor, c'mere."

This time, the android doesn't hesitate in coming closer, so Hank wraps his arms around him.

"Here, here," He mumbles. "I've got you, Con. I've got you."

Connor hides his face in his chest, whimpering. Hank instinctively holds him tighter, and the other responds in the same way.

"I-I'm so scared, Hank," The android hiccups, voice higher, terrified. "I don't want to die."

"I know. I know, son." Hank cradles the back of his head. "But I swear to you, you're not going back there. You're not going to die. You're safe."

(And I won't let you die, Hank silently tells him.)

Connor keeps on crying and Hank lets him. He soothes his brown, messy curls over and over, his other hand rubbing his shoulders. He protects him from the snowstorm, from the cold… from the world.

He obviously has no idea how Connor got stuck in a blizzard. As much as he would like to know more, he won't insist on it. Whatever happened traumatized him, and for that Hank will do his best to soothe the android.

The younger man's sobs are painful, so Hank instructs him, gently, "Deep breaths, Con. Follow my lead."

For the next minutes, the android obeys and slowly releases shaky breaths; which is a progress.

"That's it, son. Keep it going," He encourages him. "Keep breathing. You're alive."

Connor does what he's told until he's quieted down enough.

"Hank," He calls him. "Can I… stay here?"

The older man smiles. "Of course you can. You don't need to ask."

Even so, Connor seems guilty. "You've sacrificed so much for me, Hank… While I could never be more grateful than I already am, I just… can't understand why."

Hank tightens his hands on Connor, mostly as he reflects on his words himself. Hank did put his career at risk, so Connor didn't go back to CyberLife. Hank nearly had a heart attack when knowing that Jericho exploded, and was so relieved when he saw Connor again – later finding out it was that fucker that stole his partner's identity. Hank stood by the RK800 until he gave him goodbye, watching Connor march with an army of androids to help Markus. When Jeffrey still wanted Hank on the force, despite whooping Perkins' ass and having a shit ton of disciplinary warnings, he declined. Something Hank should have done a long time ago, but someone helped him realize it and get it done for once. Someone that helped him realize so many things, for that matter.

And most importantly, Hank stayed in Detroit when nearly everyone else had evacuated. Hank stayed and waited, until he was facing Connor in front of the closed and empty Chicken Feed. Until he brought the android to his arms, hugging him with all the unspoken words he could never tell him, or else the world would know how much of a sappy old man he is.

Right now, though, that doesn't matter.

Because Hank finally says it.

"It's because… I love you, son."

(He never thought he would say this again. Well, except for Sumo. Still, he hasn't said this to someone in years. Ever since that dreadful, cold night.)

Connor stares at him like he's a lost puppy who just got found and is so hopeful to have a home.

"Really?" He asks.

"Really." Hank replies without any tease, surprisingly. "And I'm sorry for being such a dick to you before. You… You mean the world to me, Con."

(Fuck, he can't with those damn puppy eyes. He can't.)

"Well, I… I love you, too, Hank." Connor replies, in such a heartfelt tone that Hank fears he's melting.

"Shit, Connor," Hank's voice is watery. He's actually fucking crying. "You saw nothing, okay?"

Connor smirks, like the little shit that he is. "Whatever you say, Hank."

Hank snorts, more tears coming out. "Asshole."

Like that, the other snuggles against him, not meaning to let go any sooner. Hank is not planning to, either.

Yet there's another wave of strong winds, and Connor's hands turn into fists as they clutch Hank's shirt.

"You're alright, Con," Hank reminds him, gently rubbing his back.

Fortunately, the android doesn't panic again. On the floor, Sumo is fast asleep, probably having happy dog dreams. Connor drifts off to a peaceful sleep while Hank keeps an eye on him, until he joins them with a relieved, loving smile on his face.

(It's not the same home Hank once had... but it's a home, nonetheless.)