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

Chapter 4

"Where are we going?" his voice is confident, not something I'd expect from a boy in his situation. There's a hint of childish curiosity there, too. He reminds me of him so much.

"My house. You can sleep there tonight and in the morning I'll take you to the station," I reply, trying to keep my voice steady and not show the overwhelming emotion I feel.

"Oh," he simply says. I glance at him through the rearview mirror. His face is more cold than sad. His eyes are the only things that actually show the emotions he's feeling. The rest of his face is set in almost a stone-cut-statue kind of way. I would expect him to be scared or sad, but all I see in his eyes are curiosity and content. 

I sigh audibly, driving a good 10 miles over the speed limit. That poor kid, sitting there, probably traumatized. Yet, even when taking that into consideration, something seems very... off about him. 

"Where's your house?" he asks sweetly, kindly, softly.

"28 miles," I look to the GPS and reply, surprised at the calmness and contentedness of my voice. He is too.

"That's a good thing?" he asks.

"No, it's not," I reply, noting the annoyance in my voice, making a mental note to change it. He's just a kid. Save it for Reed. 

Connor notices my tone and his eyes are hurt and he looks out the window, remaining silent. Way to go, Anderson. Yeah, just go and get the damn kid to hate you, then you can pawn him off, get drunk, and build up the courage to blow your brains out. 

We drive down the urban streets, the streetlights bright against my tired eyes. There's barely any grass anywhere anymore. It's sad, really. There's just concrete, brick, and screens. I stare absentmindedly at the road, lost in that terrible, dark hole of my mind. There's no escaping it, I'm drawn to it. Daily, my mind threatens to throw me down into it, not caring if I don't end up coming back. I wish it would go away, but too much has happened to create it, that there's nothing I can do to fix it. Why would I fix it anyway? It's not like anyone else cares enough to help. 

"Lieutenant?" Connor suddenly speaks up, pulling me from the hole before I get a chance to fall all the way down to the dark bottom. There's nothing but alcohol, and sometimes sleep, that can get me out of that.

"Yeah?" I breathe a low response.

"You're stress levels seem quite high," he says matter-of-factly. What the fuck does that even mean? He must've seen my confusion because he adds, "You look stressed and sad." 

Oh yeah, I'm a depressed alcoholic, sitting here and wishing I could die. But I have too much responsibility, too many people I have to fuck over or impress, so it's not like I'll be able to pull the trigger. What I say instead is, "Nah, I'm fine, kid."

"Yeah, sure," he says sarcastically. I can't hold back a laugh and he smiles proudly. Why does he act so much like an adult? It's kinda creepy. 

"When we get there, I'm going to put you straight to bed, okay? It's really late," naturally, my 'dad' voice is back from all those years ago. Man, I miss those times. 

"Okay," he complies happily. Easier than I remember. 

We turn onto my street and I sigh. Finally home. I imagine Sumo and how happy he will be. He'll be pacing around, wanting to jump onto Connor, but not wanting to topple and hurt him. He's a sweetheart. Always has been. I smile a tiny bit before something hits me. All the shit in my house. 

"Okay Connor, we're here. But, I need to do something before you come in, okay? Just sit in the car. I won't be more than a few minutes," I speak calmly to him.

"Okay, Lieutenant," he responds, offering me a slight smile. 

I pull into the driveway, park, turn and smile at Connor, and then throw myself out of the car. I dash up to the door and twist the handle, finding it unlocked. I run inside, as fast as my body will let me go. I grab a bunch of bottles, throwing them into my recycling. I toss a shit-load of trash into my trash bin. Once the place looks decent, I walk out the door again. I open the back door and unbuckle Connor's seatbelt. He looks at me innocently and then says, "You were gone for 8 minutes and 52 seconds," he then climbs out of the car. What the fuck? 

"Well, I just want to let you know before we go in," I look over to his quietly listening, plain face, "I have a dog."

You know when you get so excited that you can't really control what your body is doing? That's what's happening to Connor. His face scrunches up into a huge toothy grin and he jumps up and down.

"You have a dog?! I LOVE dogs! Momma wouldn't let us get one though," his face falls for just a second before returning to the genuine excitement, "What's their name?"

"His name's Sumo," I can't help but smile myself at his reaction, "He's a huge St. Bernard. You'll love him. He'll love you, too," I chuckle a bit. Connor runs ahead of me and reaches out for the door handle before retracting it. He has a saddened and guilty look on his face.

"I'm sorry," he whispers shamefully. 

"Why are you sorry?"

"I almost just entered your property without permission," his voice is breaking and he begins to look slightly scared. 

"Whoa, are you okay?" I panic.

"What do you mean?" his face is confused, but there are tears gathered in his eyes, threatening to fall.

"I mean, are you okay?" I ask again, emphasizing mean and okay. 

"I don't understand," a single tear falls from his left eye. That's the turning point. I shake my head and decide to stop trying to explain myself, never gets anywhere with kids, and just make him happy.

"Hey, it's alright. Let's just go inside, okay?" I smile my biggest smile at him, reaching out to the doorknob.

"Okay."