Safer (a Detroit: Become Human fanfic)

My Weak Spot

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The ways Hank viewed Connor and  Conan were vastly different. There were a lot of reasons for that that would make more sense than just "Connor's way more responsible". There's the fact that he knew Connor for substantially longer than he did Conan, there's the fact that Connor came to be his son through a bond created over time and Conan just sorta woke up one day. There are a lot of things that are different between Conan and Connor when it comes to Hank but he really couldn't give a single shit about any of those. He really, from the bottom of his old, sarcastic heart, did his best not to pick favorites. If he was gonna be their dad, he was gonna be a damn good one.

Except when it came to protectiveness.
Conan would, in Hank's very flawed perception of him, die in the wilderness of Detroit within 2 consecutive seconds of being alone, but Connor. Connor knew his shit. Connor's been around. And although his views on things were always exaggerated, and this was no exception, there was some truth to it.
The stakes of danger or trouble were way lower with Connor. Somehow, even though Conan was designed to be more efficient than Connor, Connor was more calculating and straight to the point. If he had to get to a crime scene, he'd get there in time and ready to investigate. Conan would probably arrive late with 2 different flavors of ice cream because he couldn't pick one and now he's emotionally exhausted, 'can we do this later?'
Yeah, maybe Hank wasn't the most reliable narrator, taking into account that Conan hasn't even gotten a chance to investigate anything in real life, but he believed what he thought.

So Conan swearing up and down that he thought Connor said he'd come back in half an hour and that he was positive he was just taking Sumo for a walk and that he had no idea where or why he could've possibly ventured off to was absolutely useless.

"Eh, he'll be home."

"By when?"

"Someday I guess? Listen kid, I'm busy over here, watch a movie or something, Connor's not home, it ain't the end of the world."

"But I don't know where he is!"

"Yeah well neither do I, and it's okay, he knows how to get home, he's Connor."

"He's Con-

"G'night."

"Hank no- fuck, he hang up."

"Which was fully expected." Gavin sighed, undoing his shoes and leaning back into the sofa. "So.. night's ours?"

"Wh- aren't you worried about him?"

"Why the fuck would I be worried about him?"

"Because it's pitch black outside and he just left and didn't say anything and what if something happened and-

"First of all, I don't give a flying fuck about Connor's plastic ass-

"Hey!"

"Nothing wrong with plastic asses, trust me, some I highly appreciate-

".. hey," Conan chuckled.

"But that one in particular, I don't give a fuck about. Second of all, relax, he's Connor, he survived Jericho and then infiltrated the fucking CyberLife tower and led a shit ton of androids into a revolution by himself, he can manage walking a dog."

"A dog- what if something happened to Sumo?"

"He would've told you. Or at least Hank."

"But I-

"Listen here Conan," Gavin sat up and grabbed his wrist, "it's not like he's some clueless toddler wondering about, okay?"

"You mad?"