{Broken Children} Child!Connor and Cannon!Hank AU

Chapter 1

I can't listen anymore. The lies they tell. The promises they can't keep. It's all too much. So I stand, push away from the table, and run down the hall into my room. They scream at me to return. I hear my brother screech as my father turns to yell at him. I hear my mother's high heels clicking down the hardwood hallway.

They don't love me.

She opens the door and she doesn't love me. She walks up to me and she doesn't love me. She starts yelling. She doesn't love me. She raises her hand. She doesn't love me. One slap and she doesn't love me. Another one and she doesn't love me. One more and I'm screaming.

She hates me.

I hear the front door open and I hear my brother let out a shrill, helpless cry. I push my mother aside and rush back into the living room. Blood. Blood is all over the floor. Nothing comes out of my gaping mouth and I see my brother run out the back door before everything fades.

~~~Hank~~~

I groan as I get out of the car. The heavy metal has left my ears and I feel empty. But that's normal by now. I walk up to the porch and the familiar stench of old blood and rotting flesh pushes itself into my nose. I resist the urge to turn back to the car, drive home, and drain my house of all liquor. But I push myself through the door and look upon the body of a man, 28 stab wounds in his chest. There's dried blood dyed into the white carpet of the living room. Sometimes I really hate this job.

I frown at a family photo on the mantel. A man. The dead one. A woman. The other body that's supposed to be here somewhere. Two boys, one slightly taller. They look to be between the ages of 8 and 11. They both look unhappy and I see in their eyes: fear.

What are they afraid of?

I tear my eyes away from the taller boy and amble down the hallway. I see an open doorway with blood splattered along it. I push the door open more and step into the dark room. I regret flipping the light switch just as I do it. The smell is stronger in this room and I gaze upon the body of what looks like the mother in the photo. There are multiple bullet wounds in the back of her head. Shit.
"Both parents dead. What about the boys?" I question under my breath.
"Lieutenant, there's someone in the living room you should see," Chris poked his head into the room.
"Yeah, that man's body. I saw him."
"No. A boy," he corrected.
"What?"
"A ten-year-old boy. You should speak to him."
"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming," I grumbled. I followed Chris back into the living room. Sitting in a corner, there was a small figure with his head resting on his knees that were tucked up to his chest.
"He won't talk to anyone. Good luck," Chris whispered, patted my shoulder, and walked out the front door.

AN
Ugh. I haven't fucking updated for so long. I'm sorry to those few people who read my shit. Here's this thing I've been working on and I'm going to make an actual effort to update more now. See ya laaaater byeee