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Connor sat at the edge of the world and let his feet dangle over the ledge.
Well, he wasn’t exactly at the edge of the world per say. No, he was just on top of Stratford Tower, wind whipping up over the empty rooftop and a light flurry of snow dusting across his vision to speckle white where there was otherwise only blackness.
He’d flashed his badge to get up here - Legal, no… But he’d needed the quiet.
The date was December 31st. The time was 11:45.
There were approximately 15 minutes between him and the day Niles Anderson died.
The city lights shone on beneath him, deaf to the time and uncaring for his loss. They would burn out for nothing. Street Lights became white splotches on a monotone background and headlights were naught but flashes of light across bottomless darkness. Colors blended together from this height. Where did purple end and pink begin? Did it matter? They were all the same from up here - So were they really that different on the ground?
Speaking of colors, a tiny flash of red caught Connor’s attention, just a sharp glint in the corner of his eye. A splash of light in the darkness of the roof. The human didn’t need to turn around.
“Calm down, Robocop. I ain’t gonna jump.” Connor snarkled lightly, leaning back on the butts of his palms to draw one knee up from where it dangled and letting a hand rest across it, fingers brushing against ice touched denim as they drummed over his knee cap in a slow rhythm.
Heavy footsteps made themselves known behind the man, echoing loudly across the empty roof where nothing existed besides him and Hank. “Taking wind chill into account, the temperature has reached a point where I would consider it hazardous to remain exposed to these conditions.” The android’s deep voice droned in the darkness but it was lowered, quiet in a way that Connor was grateful for. He didn’t think he could handle much more than a whisper.
“Are you here to tell me to come inside?” Connor asked carefully, voice devoid of, well, anything. A perfect reflection of the numb coursing through his own mind as he stared out at the city lights miles below. He should probably ask how Hank found him… But the question didn’t truly seem all that important.
Instead of answer, the man got something large thrown down on top of him, thick and weighty so that it sat heavy on his shoulders as long fingers carefully came up to pull at the material, slowly drawing it around himself until he could no longer feel the bite of the wind. Truth be told, he’d been out here long past the point of feeling the fanged edge of the winter’s lashing whip but there was something about the sprawling coat that made him want to wrap up in it nevertheless. It was still warm, the lingering heat of his android yet clinging to the fabric to bleed into his own chilled skin and the faint scent of clean still on it.
It was an odd smell to be attached to, always crisp and fresh like you were walking into the laundry detergent aisle at your local grocery store instead of curled up with your partner on the couch in your own home; but that’s what Hank smelled like. So, Connor drew the coat up to his face and let the barely discernible smell of soap and mint settle into his senses and run its soothing fingers over his troubled mind.
“Do you mind if I sit with you, Detective?” Hank asked after a long moment, voice heavy but not without a hint of hope. “I understand if you’d rather be alone.” The android added hastily, deep tones betraying not a hint of pressure or demand. He’d accept whatever Connor wanted, even if they both knew he’d rather be here with the man - Which is why he was the only one Connor could ever let stay by his side now.
“Stay, Hank. I want you here.” Connor agreed truthfully, shifting to make a spot beside himself for the android to sit. He… Didn’t want to be alone anymore. Not tonight.
Not ever.
Hank appeared at the human's side, lowering himself down into the space Connor created so that both legs hung over the side of the roof and his shoulder brushed the man beside him’s every few moments. The android’s silver hair swept into his face where a few strands escaped his tight ponytail to catch in the breeze, flicking over his stormy eyes that shone back the cityscape’s uncaring light in a way that wasn’t so ugly.
When Connor looked down at the glittering display he only saw a world that would burn out for no one, that could go on without him... But when he saw them reflected back in Hank’s blue eyes, he saw lights that would dull if he were to go, that would've never burned to begin with had it not been for him.
A world that would not go on without him.
The thought stilled his heart, the notion that he mattered that much to someone a foreign one he hadn't felt in a long time. He couldn’t fathom it; but the knowledge breathed a bit of warmth back into the empty cavity his chest always was this night nevertheless, reminding him there was something beyond this. The cold empty feeling this single night of the year brought. Something on the other side that was worth fighting to get to.
The date was December 31st. The time was 11:50.
There were 10 minutes between him and the day Niles Anderson died.
Connor drew a hand behind himself and let his fingers slip into his back pocket until they hit a cardboard box and he tugged it free, drawing it forward to push back the square lid with his thumb and letting the pad of his digit brush along the paper tops of the cigarettes inside. The detective plucked one from the pile and snapped the cap back over the rest before slipping the box back away and reaching for his brother’s lighter instead.
He never really thought of it as his, even after all these years.
The man flicked open the metal cap and struck his thumb down the tiny wheel inside to bring a flickering flame forth into the darkness, the faint glow barely fighting back the pressing blackness around them as he held the tip of his cigarette to the spitting cone and watched the paper catch.
Flames licked at the white tip, burning away the pure paper to leave smoldering ash behind as a thick tendril of gray smoke curled up and away from the tiny tube, catching on a breeze and being carried away into the blackness, as all eventually is. Connor bought the thing to his lips and drew in a long breath, breathing thick smoke into his mouth and holding it there for a long moment before letting it breath back out again in a heavy cloud.
Hank said nothing, likely as aware of the date as Connor was.
The date was December 31st. The time was 11:55.
There were 5 minutes between him and day his brother died.
Connor flicked the embers of his cigarette over the ledge, watching the bright orange sparks shine against the gloom for a brave moment before they were caught on a breeze and swallowed up by the darkness. Just a flash of light against a dark sky, small and inconsequential.
From here, the people on the ground were embers caught in a breeze. Small and inconsequential and bound to be swallowed by the darkness as quick as they burned out.
A heavy shoulder brushed against Connor’s as Hank shifted, pressing closer and chasing away the numb with his vivid presence. Connor was not inconsequential. The touch reminded him of that.
The human gave the cigarette a small shake to put it out and snubbed the smoldering embers down into the cement, smooshing the still burning thing down until it was gray and gone. Cigarettes didn’t taste quite the same anymore, not knowing Hank would hurt with every puff he took.
The last thing he wanted to do was hurt Hank. Besides, he… he...
The date was December 31st. The time was 11:58.
There were 2 minutes between him and the day his brother died trying to save him.
Connor reached back around and pulled his cigarette box free from his pocket once more, his emergency pack he only kept on him for nights like this one. He weighed it in his hand for a moment, letting it sit in his palm.
The date was December 31st. The time was 11:59.
There was 1 minute between him and the day his little brother gave his life for his.
Connor chucked the pack before he could think about it, throwing it as far as he could out over the ledge so that it spun through the air for a long moment before it began plummeting through the darkness toward ground below, likely to end up under the tires of some automated car.
Fireworks began to explode in the distance, faint from here, far above the world and lighting the path of his cigarette box as it fell in short, colorful bursts until he couldn’t see it anymore. The date was officially that of the closing set of numbers on a tombstone far across town. The day two lives ended, not one
The human drew his eyes back up to the skyline, splattered over in bright bursts of blue and white, red speckling through to create a canvass of color across the dark sky. Every bright flash revealed the gray smoke clinging to the clouds from the last explosion, booming through the night to let all quiver under the noise and cast everything in its blinding glow.
“Hank,” Connor whispered, the name naught more than a breath on his lips. “I want to live.” The human swore quietly, the words paramount on his tongue yet nothing more than a whisper caught on the breeze.
The android beside him stiffened for a minute, likely taken aback by the unexpected declaration but he was over the initial shock as quickly as it had come and turned to face the man across from him, stormy eyes heavy and blazing. The machine moved forward, pressing into the detective’s space so that there were but inches between them, synthetic breath caught with real and both carried away equally on that ever present breeze that swept away all in the end.
Hank said nothing but his hands found their way to Connor’s face, heavy fingers pressing into his jaw and huge thumbs grazed against his cheeks. “I’m glad.” The android eventually managed, his voice sounding as if it were glitching almost, catching oddly in places and drawing out on a static hum as he stared into Connor’s orbs, stormy blue intense and captivating.
Connor let a smile creep along his face, tentative, unsure but there all the same. His fingers found their way to Hank’s wrist, holding the robot’s hand against him and letting himself drink in the touch he craved. He wanted this. He wanted to live. To truly live - Not the spiral of detached melancholy and isolation he’d caged himself in for the past 13 years.
He wanted to smile more. He wanted to make Hank happy. He wanted to do dumb things with his hot robot boyfriend like go ice skating and take silly selfies of them both falling flat on their asses. He wanted to laugh at Chris’ bad puns again and remember what it felt like to not cower away from any social gathering like the plague. He wanted to breathe without feeling like he was suffocating and he wanted to kick Gavin reed straight in the ass.
Goddammit - He wanted to be in a place where he could give Hank what he’d somehow managed to cling on to through that whole ordeal and know what it felt like to have sex with someone you loved.
Determination surged through the man’s veins like fire racing through a long dead forge, blazing back into dark corners that had long since been overtaken by dust and gloom with thick cobwebs hanging from each shadowed corner and cold creeping in at every crack. The flames seared through his body, blazing through the gaping hole in his chest and turning it into a furnace - Niles Anderson had died so that Connor may live and he would not waste that sacrifice.
He would live.
“What about you, RoboHunk?” Connor asked warmly, firelight flickering behind his words as he let his own declaration sink in and bury itself deep in his core. “Any New Year’s resolutions?” the human asked, leaning into where the android’s hand still pressed against his cheek and holding his own fingers to the limb to keep it there tight. With Hank’s hands holding him together, Connor could do this.
Hank’s stormy gaze flicked over Connor’s fire fueled expression and a return smile crept across his own features in response, spreading wider and wider until they were both grinning at each other like a couple of idiots on the roof of a building miles atop the rest of the world. “I’m going to help get you there.” The android answered, his voice strained but his words solemn. A promise.
The date was January 1st.
Connor Anderson was alive.