[Eventually they make it to Cherrygrove, and by then Connor is exhausted. He's in a body he's not used to, his feet hurt, he's been sleeping rough, and all in all it hasn't been a pleasant experience to do all of this in the rain. Typically, it's stopped now that they've actually reached a town. Go figure.
It's cloudy, but it's still a nice day. And he can hear the sea from here. He might have enjoyed it more if he wasn't dead on his feet.]
[Hank is fucking tired. He's not walked this much in years. And for all that he's been trying to keep the worst from happening to Connor (taking the advice of not letting him overdo it, trying to keep him from stuff that will make him sick).]
I don't know how to fucking... yen... or whatever this crap is. [He holds up his starting PokeMoney.] PokeMoney. [He corrects himself in his bland stupor.]
Alright, so, we get to a bed. We sleep. Good plan.
[He still has Tubbs in his pokeball and at this point, Hank's reduced to a tired plod towards the nearest inn. The receptionist can recognize the sheer exhaustion on his face.]
We need a room. [That's his specifics. All it needs is a roof and a bed and he's good. He's running on fumes at this point.]
[Connor hasn't bothered to put his Magnemite away. It seems happier floating along with them, occasionally making beeping noises. Connor is warming up to the little guy, honestly.
They get the key to their room and head up there, and as soon as they get inside Connor kicks his shoes off and drops onto the nearest bed. Fully clothed, not even bothering to pull the covers back, his head isn't even on the pillow. Crockett beeps in concern, then looks at Hank as though expecting him to do something about the useless lump who is half-falling off the bed and already falling asleep.]
[Hank asks the dead body on the bed, before looking at Crockett.]
I'm not undressing him.
I'm not... [He insists.]
[Then he sighs.]
Alright, Connor. Don't be pissed at me. This is for your own good. You better be wearing underwear. [He sits down by him and rolls him over so he's on the bed properly, and is so tired that he jostles the poor guy slightly as he undoes his pants and peels them off inelegantly.]
[Connor is just sitting on the bed playing with Charlotte when he hears a crack coming from the nest he and Hank made for the eggs. He looks over, pausing in his movements, and when he sees one of the eggs shake he slides off the bed and waves a hand in Hank's vague direction.]
Hank. Come here.
[He says it quietly, as if talking too loud would interrupt what he's seeing. Two eggs, slowly chipping and breaking.]
[Oh right? Eggs. Hank was reading about the cleanest version of 'Where the Red Fern Grows' imaginable, near the end and boggling at the adjustment to make it good and wholesome, with pokemon in place of the all the animals and catching in place of hunting. He closes up the book and puts on his stupid fucking apron, which looks fucking stupid on him still, and goes over to help with the hatching eggs.]
Alright, well. Never seen one of these hatch before.
[Hopefully its less gross than a real egg. He stays kneeling in front of the nest, leaning in to look closely at the gaps starting between the shell.]
[It's pretty clean, just an egg opening with a pokemon inside it. The Popplio stumbles out of the broken shell, looks up at Connor, and makes a "borf?" sound.
Which means Connor is immediately in love with it. He carefully picks it up, as the other Popplio breaks free of its egg and borfs at Hank. Oh no, they're adorable. Connor looks at Hank, as though trying to figure out how to convey how he feels about what's happening here. He's obviously delighted, though.]
[It does sound like a seal. Hank reaches down and picks up the thing in both hands. That's an adorable little 'borf' noise. And Tubbs shows up and decides that they both need immediate licking.]
...Is this your first time holding a baby anything?
[Hank's probably been in a better mood for the past few days than Connor's ever seen him in. His depression had even seeped into this world, really. In a different way, he'd gone from one form of helplessness to another. He'd given up on being able to change the world for the better back home, until Connor came along. But then the world did change for the better, but rather than enjoy it, he'd ended up somewhere where the world was already fine with or without him, and with or without him would never be an option that he could control.]
[But he'd tried to remember the better things, to his credit. That people weren't discriminating against Connor (even if it meant he had to be human). That there were kids here and those kids, for the most part, were safe. And hopefully wouldn't be eaten by ghosts or some shit. But it wasn't enough to make him smile regularly or find enthusiasm in his actions.]
[Since his birthday, though, he's been less difficult to wake up in the morning. He's been more glad to go out and go to work. He's occasionally taken Tubbs, Hunter, and Luann out to practice some tracking as well attempt to train them himself. He's been trying harder just because of the extra affection.]
[He brings in some food for the humans and the usual Pokemon food for the monsters after being out for a few hours.] Alright, who's hungry. No! No this is people food, not Tubbs food. [He holds that bag up where the Growlithe can't reach.]
[Seeing Hank so happy makes Connor happy, too. He notices the small signs, the smiles that are becoming more common. Connor is still basking in Hank’s affection, too. It feels good to be cared for like this.
He’s been training his pokemon as usual, and Charlotte has just levelled up finally. Calling it a day seemed like a good idea so he’s come back from Route 31, and is glad to see Hank coming in with the food.]
I think we all are. Charlotte worked pretty hard today.
[Hank lightly tosses Connor the human food bag, with one of those increasingly frequent smiles.] Yeah, you've both been throwing your all into it.
[And then he takes the time to set out bowls of food for the Pokemon, glad to go into his usual duties of taking care of things, at least. That feels like a nice callback to the man he used to be, even if it's not quite enough. He's working on it, though, finding a foothold. Little by little.]
[He finishes up with that and finally goes to give Connor a decent welcome-home kiss, putting an arm around his back and reeling him close.]
[Connor watches fondly as Hank sets about feeding the pokemon, and smiles wide as Hank pulls him close. He winds his arms around his shoulders, and is just getting into it when he hears a strange sort of noise. A soft one, but enough to make him pull back slightly.
Charlotte had taken a few nibbles from her food, and is now glowing white. He blinks and watches as the white shape transforms and grows larger, much larger- and then when she stops glowing, there’s an entirely different pokemon in her place. She lets out a happy screech, and Connor looks between her and Hank.]
[Hank trains about as much as he's expected to, which is to say that he wouldn't do it at all except he has the pressing knowledge that he doesn't want to be an anchor that holds Connor back. So he tries. And his dogs especially are improving. That's why, when he takes the time to train them one day, he comes back to the hotel looking a little nonplussed and followed by two much more ferocious looking animals than what he left with.]
[Luann is now a Lycanroc, spiky and lanky, a midday form. Then there's Hunter the Houndoom, looking every bit his name, all muscle and impressive horns but still running around like a puppy. Tubbs is the sad odd dog out, now on the smaller side of the other two (that will one day change).]
[He's nearly back to the hotel, tailed by four furry (and stony) animals, checking his PokeGear to see what might have changed and what might be more inconvenient now. Ignoring his pokemon as they rush ahead, eager as usual to see Connor. He should really look up.]
[Connor has had his Onix finally hatch, and is currently by the hotel patting it on one smooth rock segment. He’d caught a Chatot today too, the bird pokemon on his shoulder because Connor wasn’t sure when Hank would be back. He glances over when he hears them approaching and raises his eyebrows with a smile at the newly evolved pokemon.]
They evolved.
[He moves away from Rocky to pat the new Houndoom. The Onix rumbles discontentedly, now that Connor’s attention is elsewhere.]
[Hank looks up and jolts as he realizes that there's a giant snake by his hotel room, dropping his PokeGear in surprise.]
Holy shit!
[And then Tubbs picks up the PokeGear and gives it back, as he tries to do with everything that's dropped that's not food, just in case it's a game of catch in the making.]
[Hunter leans against Connor with all his weight, panting happily. Luann sniffs the giant Onix. Hank, to his credit (or discredit), hasn't even seen the bird yet.] Jesus Christ I'm glad that shit didn't hatch in the house or we'd have been fucking buried.
[But he looks fondly up at the giant pokemon, because it didn’t hatch indoors and therefore didn’t crush them. The Chatot, named Rupert, flaps his wings and repeats after Hank: “holy shit!”. Connor winces.]
Ah. This is Rupert.
[Yes, he named the bird after the pigeon deviant.]
[It's come down to today, that Connor's going for his first venture in getting a badge. Hank still thinks this place is fucking ridiculous, but he knows that to Connor that this is something to focus on, something to keep him from floating aimlessly. And success is still important to him.]
[He's prepared to deal with either result. To nurse him through a failure, or celebrate a success. Luckily it seems like it'll be the latter. He waits outside with a pokeball in hand. Temporarily he's put Cagney away just for this. This gets to be a reward, not a consolation prize.]
Congratulations. [Hank says warmly when Connor's leaving the gym, waiting on him with a faint smile, and holds out the pokeball.] I got you a little something.
[Connor doesn't think he could stand life without a goal of some kind, at least not yet. The badges fit that description perfectly. As someone who spent his life only following orders, it's freeing to be doing what he wants, too. The fact that Hank is willing to just tag along for the most part is a blessing.
Speaking of blessings, he blinks at the pokeball and looks up at Hank curiously. He's smiling, still high from the success, but he's obviously curious too.]
Thank you. You didn't have to get me anything.
[He already got a few gifts from the gym leader, for winning. The money will keep them comfortable for a little while. He takes the pokeball, and opens it. When the Electrike appears before him, pawing at the ground and ruffing, the curious smile turns into a delighted one.]
[Swapping bodies again means Connor has to make his way back home for a second time. At least it isn't so bad when your face and body don't ache just from the cold. He lets himself in the house with his key and shuts the door behind him, giving Crockett a friendly pat as it approaches him with an excited beep.]
Hank? It's me, Connor!
[He takes off his scarf and hangs up his coat, heading into the living room.]
[Hank calls from his desk, getting up to go to the living room. He should probably wait for a confirmation before he reaches out and pulls Connor into a hug, hand settled at the back of his head to hold him comfortably close. He doesn't because he missed him.]
God, I hope this shit is over.
[He can't believe that he ended up the lucky one in this scenario.]
[It's Valentines Day again, a full year and a couple of months since his last one. Where he just felt sort of empty and bitter for the full day. He drank. Looked at numbers on his phone and considered calling. Looked at a dating site. Noted how every woman who was his age had knitting and gardening as hobbies. Went back to drinking until he blacked out. Played Russian Roulette, probably, as he woke up with a gun but remembers nothing of having gotten it out. Basically it went the day most holidays had gone for the past few years.]
[Before that, holidays could still be good. When it was just him and Cole, he'd take him shopping for those tiny Valentines and told him to give them to every kid, not just his friends, until they all ran out. He'd laughed when Cole made one out to a girl he 'liked' (as much as a six-year-old could like anyone, which means he was probably too shy to be her friend) and his Valentine's message had only been 'I like -' so and so cartoon he'd been obsessed with and collecting all the toys for at the moment, he can't remember what it was. The one about that fucking dragon, probably.]
[When he was married? Valentine's day was an excuse to stand in the candy store and look at the sweet smelling chocolate crafted into various shapes. Chocolate roses, always, made their way home because then he didn't have to clean up bullshit dead flower carcasses off the counter after a week. Just throw away the occasional sweet smelling red wrapper.]
[And before that? He could do general bullshit. Valentine's Day was bar day. Bachelors getting together and watching games. One year he wrote a prank Valentine to Fowler, and thought he was clever until he found one on his desk with the fun script inside, 'Shut your ass up.' He'd put it on his then-present thumbtack board for months.]
[This is another chance for Valentine's Day to feel good, except he's feeling guilty. So he sits at his desk with a bottle of his gifted whiskey and promises to only drink enough to take the edge off. Just a tiny bit. It'll be fine. He sits Connie on the desk as he pours a small glass, in the path of the nearest heater so she doesn't get chilly. Most of the time she's warm in his pocket, but he knows it has to get boring in there.]
[Only she looks at him with big eyes, watching him take a drink. Honestly, he doesn't know whether to feel bad or not. It's almost as bad as Sumo's woeful looks. He furrows his brow through another drink.]
[Connie hugs her flower to her as if it were a stuffed animal, lower lip starting to quiver. Hank freezes in the middle of pulling the glass away from his mouth, stone still.]
[And then she starts to bawl.] Floooooooooooooooo [How eyes that tiny can make tears that big, Hank doesn't know, but he nearly knocks his chair over in an effort to get up. Papers and wanted ads and even a thank you letter from some kid he'd helped out slipping off his desk.]
No no no no no. Connie. Connie Connie. [His hands are out, hovering over her, glass shoved to the side for the moment.] What do you want, huh? Pocket? Do you want to go back?
FlooooETTE. [That 'ette' is a hiccup in her crying, complete with full mouth waver. Still holding her flower before burying her face in it. Her sad expressions every bit as ruthless as Connor's.]
Okay uh... poffin? Shit. I don't understand Pokemon. Shitting fucking on a fucking whore- [He's leaving the room, swearing to himself as he goes to the kitchen to try and find poffins. He can hear her quiet sniffles from the lonely expanse of his desk, and it spurs him to hunt for anything to cheer her up. He picks up one of the Cofagrigus's toys that's less loved, and comically larger than the Floette at that.]
[He comes back and she's using a vine to pull his whiskey glass over, like now she wants a drink. Hank makes it just in time to rescue it like a fucking hero, giving her a poffin in it's place and he gulps that glass to get it out of the way, pulling a hell of a face as he puts down the glass. Connie hiccups again, looking miserable as she eats her poffin, the very face of a sad little depressed flower fairy stuffing its face to feel better. He puts his big hand over her and pets the top of her head with his thumb.]
Come on, it'll be okay. No fucking clue what just happened, but it'll be okay. I'm here.
[For Connor, Valentine’s Day is pretty exciting. He’s never experienced it before, and he even has someone he loves to spend it with too. He’s actually getting ready to go to bed when he hears Connie crying, because he wants to be bright and fresh for tomorrow.
He comes out of the bathroom half-dressed and with his toothbrush still in his hand.]
Hank? What’s wrong with Connie?
[He spots the whiskey, and frowns a little. He has all the patience in the world for Hank, but every time he sees the whiskey is out he gets flashbacks to Hank lying on the floor of his kitchen with a gun by his hand.]
I have no idea. [Hank says genuinely, lifting his hands away to assume the 'freeze' position. Only Connie cries harder as his hand is pulled away, so he has to put it right back.] I took her out of my pocket because she'd been in there all day and she just started.
[Rubbing her face in flower petals, Connie eventually looks up at Connor and reaches for him with one little white arm. So Hank picks her up and takes her over to him. Except she doesn't let Hank fully put her down. Instead she keeps ahold of his fingers with a vine when he tries to dismiss her into Connor's free hand.]
...Honey he still has his toothbrush.
[One of them has to take it back, right. But she seems hell bent on hugging Connor's thumb as she sniffles.] Flo [It comes out as a little chirped, cry strangled squeak.]
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16/08 VR
[Eventually they make it to Cherrygrove, and by then Connor is exhausted. He's in a body he's not used to, his feet hurt, he's been sleeping rough, and all in all it hasn't been a pleasant experience to do all of this in the rain. Typically, it's stopped now that they've actually reached a town. Go figure.
It's cloudy, but it's still a nice day. And he can hear the sea from here. He might have enjoyed it more if he wasn't dead on his feet.]
We should look for somewhere to sleep.
[Yes, that's the first thing on Connor's mind.]
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I don't know how to fucking... yen... or whatever this crap is. [He holds up his starting PokeMoney.] PokeMoney. [He corrects himself in his bland stupor.]
Alright, so, we get to a bed. We sleep. Good plan.
[He still has Tubbs in his pokeball and at this point, Hank's reduced to a tired plod towards the nearest inn. The receptionist can recognize the sheer exhaustion on his face.]
We need a room. [That's his specifics. All it needs is a roof and a bed and he's good. He's running on fumes at this point.]
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They get the key to their room and head up there, and as soon as they get inside Connor kicks his shoes off and drops onto the nearest bed. Fully clothed, not even bothering to pull the covers back, his head isn't even on the pillow. Crockett beeps in concern, then looks at Hank as though expecting him to do something about the useless lump who is half-falling off the bed and already falling asleep.]
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[Hank asks the dead body on the bed, before looking at Crockett.]
I'm not undressing him.
I'm not... [He insists.]
[Then he sighs.]
Alright, Connor. Don't be pissed at me. This is for your own good. You better be wearing underwear. [He sits down by him and rolls him over so he's on the bed properly, and is so tired that he jostles the poor guy slightly as he undoes his pants and peels them off inelegantly.]
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23/08 VR
Hank. Come here.
[He says it quietly, as if talking too loud would interrupt what he's seeing. Two eggs, slowly chipping and breaking.]
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[Oh right? Eggs. Hank was reading about the cleanest version of 'Where the Red Fern Grows' imaginable, near the end and boggling at the adjustment to make it good and wholesome, with pokemon in place of the all the animals and catching in place of hunting. He closes up the book and puts on his stupid fucking apron, which looks fucking stupid on him still, and goes over to help with the hatching eggs.]
Alright, well. Never seen one of these hatch before.
[Hopefully its less gross than a real egg. He stays kneeling in front of the nest, leaning in to look closely at the gaps starting between the shell.]
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Which means Connor is immediately in love with it. He carefully picks it up, as the other Popplio breaks free of its egg and borfs at Hank. Oh no, they're adorable. Connor looks at Hank, as though trying to figure out how to convey how he feels about what's happening here. He's obviously delighted, though.]
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...Is this your first time holding a baby anything?
[He realizes just then.]
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27/08
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Sept. 9th
[But he'd tried to remember the better things, to his credit. That people weren't discriminating against Connor (even if it meant he had to be human). That there were kids here and those kids, for the most part, were safe. And hopefully wouldn't be eaten by ghosts or some shit. But it wasn't enough to make him smile regularly or find enthusiasm in his actions.]
[Since his birthday, though, he's been less difficult to wake up in the morning. He's been more glad to go out and go to work. He's occasionally taken Tubbs, Hunter, and Luann out to practice some tracking as well attempt to train them himself. He's been trying harder just because of the extra affection.]
[He brings in some food for the humans and the usual Pokemon food for the monsters after being out for a few hours.] Alright, who's hungry. No! No this is people food, not Tubbs food. [He holds that bag up where the Growlithe can't reach.]
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He’s been training his pokemon as usual, and Charlotte has just levelled up finally. Calling it a day seemed like a good idea so he’s come back from Route 31, and is glad to see Hank coming in with the food.]
I think we all are. Charlotte worked pretty hard today.
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[And then he takes the time to set out bowls of food for the Pokemon, glad to go into his usual duties of taking care of things, at least. That feels like a nice callback to the man he used to be, even if it's not quite enough. He's working on it, though, finding a foothold. Little by little.]
[He finishes up with that and finally goes to give Connor a decent welcome-home kiss, putting an arm around his back and reeling him close.]
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Charlotte had taken a few nibbles from her food, and is now glowing white. He blinks and watches as the white shape transforms and grows larger, much larger- and then when she stops glowing, there’s an entirely different pokemon in her place. She lets out a happy screech, and Connor looks between her and Hank.]
Um.
[Well then.]
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Sept. 30th
[Luann is now a Lycanroc, spiky and lanky, a midday form. Then there's Hunter the Houndoom, looking every bit his name, all muscle and impressive horns but still running around like a puppy. Tubbs is the sad odd dog out, now on the smaller side of the other two (that will one day change).]
[He's nearly back to the hotel, tailed by four furry (and stony) animals, checking his PokeGear to see what might have changed and what might be more inconvenient now. Ignoring his pokemon as they rush ahead, eager as usual to see Connor. He should really look up.]
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They evolved.
[He moves away from Rocky to pat the new Houndoom. The Onix rumbles discontentedly, now that Connor’s attention is elsewhere.]
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Holy shit!
[And then Tubbs picks up the PokeGear and gives it back, as he tries to do with everything that's dropped that's not food, just in case it's a game of catch in the making.]
[Hunter leans against Connor with all his weight, panting happily. Luann sniffs the giant Onix. Hank, to his credit (or discredit), hasn't even seen the bird yet.] Jesus Christ I'm glad that shit didn't hatch in the house or we'd have been fucking buried.
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[But he looks fondly up at the giant pokemon, because it didn’t hatch indoors and therefore didn’t crush them. The Chatot, named Rupert, flaps his wings and repeats after Hank: “holy shit!”. Connor winces.]
Ah. This is Rupert.
[Yes, he named the bird after the pigeon deviant.]
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Oct 20th
[He's prepared to deal with either result. To nurse him through a failure, or celebrate a success. Luckily it seems like it'll be the latter. He waits outside with a pokeball in hand. Temporarily he's put Cagney away just for this. This gets to be a reward, not a consolation prize.]
Congratulations. [Hank says warmly when Connor's leaving the gym, waiting on him with a faint smile, and holds out the pokeball.] I got you a little something.
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Speaking of blessings, he blinks at the pokeball and looks up at Hank curiously. He's smiling, still high from the success, but he's obviously curious too.]
Thank you. You didn't have to get me anything.
[He already got a few gifts from the gym leader, for winning. The money will keep them comfortable for a little while. He takes the pokeball, and opens it. When the Electrike appears before him, pawing at the ground and ruffing, the curious smile turns into a delighted one.]
Where did you get him? I haven't seen one yet.
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And yeah... this was a big deal for you. So I had to get you something. Win or lose.
[He steps over and puts his hand at the back of Connor's neck to pull him in for a hug, wrapping his arms around him and giving him a tight squeeze.]
Good work. I'm proud of you.
[But he figures he won't want to be held forever. He needs to go introduce himself to his new shockdog.]
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24/01 VR
Hank? It's me, Connor!
[He takes off his scarf and hangs up his coat, heading into the living room.]
24/01 VR
[Hank calls from his desk, getting up to go to the living room. He should probably wait for a confirmation before he reaches out and pulls Connor into a hug, hand settled at the back of his head to hold him comfortably close. He doesn't because he missed him.]
God, I hope this shit is over.
[He can't believe that he ended up the lucky one in this scenario.]
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I hope so too. It feels good to be back in my body, though.
[He doesn't envy Jack for having to live with that pain.]
I never want to do that again.
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Feb 13th, late at night and right before Valentine's day
[Before that, holidays could still be good. When it was just him and Cole, he'd take him shopping for those tiny Valentines and told him to give them to every kid, not just his friends, until they all ran out. He'd laughed when Cole made one out to a girl he 'liked' (as much as a six-year-old could like anyone, which means he was probably too shy to be her friend) and his Valentine's message had only been 'I like -' so and so cartoon he'd been obsessed with and collecting all the toys for at the moment, he can't remember what it was. The one about that fucking dragon, probably.]
[When he was married? Valentine's day was an excuse to stand in the candy store and look at the sweet smelling chocolate crafted into various shapes. Chocolate roses, always, made their way home because then he didn't have to clean up bullshit dead flower carcasses off the counter after a week. Just throw away the occasional sweet smelling red wrapper.]
[And before that? He could do general bullshit. Valentine's Day was bar day. Bachelors getting together and watching games. One year he wrote a prank Valentine to Fowler, and thought he was clever until he found one on his desk with the fun script inside, 'Shut your ass up.' He'd put it on his then-present thumbtack board for months.]
[This is another chance for Valentine's Day to feel good, except he's feeling guilty. So he sits at his desk with a bottle of his gifted whiskey and promises to only drink enough to take the edge off. Just a tiny bit. It'll be fine. He sits Connie on the desk as he pours a small glass, in the path of the nearest heater so she doesn't get chilly. Most of the time she's warm in his pocket, but he knows it has to get boring in there.]
[Only she looks at him with big eyes, watching him take a drink. Honestly, he doesn't know whether to feel bad or not. It's almost as bad as Sumo's woeful looks. He furrows his brow through another drink.]
[Connie hugs her flower to her as if it were a stuffed animal, lower lip starting to quiver. Hank freezes in the middle of pulling the glass away from his mouth, stone still.]
[And then she starts to bawl.] Floooooooooooooooo [How eyes that tiny can make tears that big, Hank doesn't know, but he nearly knocks his chair over in an effort to get up. Papers and wanted ads and even a thank you letter from some kid he'd helped out slipping off his desk.]
No no no no no. Connie. Connie Connie. [His hands are out, hovering over her, glass shoved to the side for the moment.] What do you want, huh? Pocket? Do you want to go back?
FlooooETTE. [That 'ette' is a hiccup in her crying, complete with full mouth waver. Still holding her flower before burying her face in it. Her sad expressions every bit as ruthless as Connor's.]
Okay uh... poffin? Shit. I don't understand Pokemon. Shitting fucking on a fucking whore- [He's leaving the room, swearing to himself as he goes to the kitchen to try and find poffins. He can hear her quiet sniffles from the lonely expanse of his desk, and it spurs him to hunt for anything to cheer her up. He picks up one of the Cofagrigus's toys that's less loved, and comically larger than the Floette at that.]
[He comes back and she's using a vine to pull his whiskey glass over, like now she wants a drink. Hank makes it just in time to rescue it like a fucking hero, giving her a poffin in it's place and he gulps that glass to get it out of the way, pulling a hell of a face as he puts down the glass. Connie hiccups again, looking miserable as she eats her poffin, the very face of a sad little depressed flower fairy stuffing its face to feel better. He puts his big hand over her and pets the top of her head with his thumb.]
Come on, it'll be okay. No fucking clue what just happened, but it'll be okay. I'm here.
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He comes out of the bathroom half-dressed and with his toothbrush still in his hand.]
Hank? What’s wrong with Connie?
[He spots the whiskey, and frowns a little. He has all the patience in the world for Hank, but every time he sees the whiskey is out he gets flashbacks to Hank lying on the floor of his kitchen with a gun by his hand.]
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[Rubbing her face in flower petals, Connie eventually looks up at Connor and reaches for him with one little white arm. So Hank picks her up and takes her over to him. Except she doesn't let Hank fully put her down. Instead she keeps ahold of his fingers with a vine when he tries to dismiss her into Connor's free hand.]
...Honey he still has his toothbrush.
[One of them has to take it back, right. But she seems hell bent on hugging Connor's thumb as she sniffles.] Flo [It comes out as a little chirped, cry strangled squeak.]
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