Chapter Text
The moment Markus leads Connor through the front door, they're greeted by 220 pounds of fluffy, drooly St. Bernard.
Sumo is eager as ever to greet Markus, but more eager to greet the new stranger in the room. On the exact opposite side of the spectrum is Markus' torti cat, Kunoichi. She sits on her cat tower on the far side of the living room-kitchen combo, absolutely nonplussed both by Markus and by Connor standing behind him.
Connor, on the other hand, seems thrilled by the way Sumo snuffs at the backs of his knees and walks circles around him. His smile is bright and cheerful, even as Sumo nudges sharply at the back of his knee and knocks him off-balance briefly.
"Sorry about Sumo," Markus muses as the dog trots into the living room and settles down on his dog bed. "He loves people."
"It's okay," replies Connor with an easy smile as he casts curious eyes around the living room. "I like animals. I've always wanted a pet, actually. But growing up, conditions weren't… exactly ideal."
Connor doesn't elaborate, but Markus doesn't think he needs to. After what he said about his father, of course he wouldn't want to bring a pet into that environment. Plus, the fact that he's had a fairly busy schedule since he started skating competitively…
With a gentle smile, Markus tells Connor to, "Feel free to give these two as much attention as you want."
Eyebrow arched, Connor looks around the room. "Two? I only see one…"
Markus crosses the room and greets Kunoichi by scratching his fingers gently down her spine. "This is Kunoichi," he tells Connor, turning to him with a smirk. "Kuni for short. Hank picked the name because he wanted something that went well with Sumo."
As Connor quickly makes his way across the floor, he shifts his bag on his back and moves a bit slower than he did on the walk from the bus station. When he gets to the cat tower, all signs of weariness and exhaustion seem to fade. He smiles as he gently holds his hand out for her to smell.
"Hi, Kuni." Connor's voice is calm. Gentle and level like he's seeking approval. He waits, patiently, even as Kuni flicks an orange ear in an attempt to ignore him. Laughing lightly, he says, "Not the social butterfly your brother is, huh?"
Markus watches as Kuni peels a single eye open in the signature passiveness of her species, her keen feline gaze focused on Connor.
With a sheepish laugh, Connor rests one hand on the cat tower, within Kunoichi's reach. "I get that," he reasons, shifting his bag on his shoulder again. "Truth be told, I'm not the best at socialization either. Especially not with new people."
Slowly, Markus reaches for Connor's bag and slides it from his shoulders, flashing him a smile to dismantle the surprise he sees on Connor's face. When those soft brown eyes ask a question he doesn't verbalize, Markus sets his bag down on the floor next to the kitchen table.
"Just… making sure you're comfortable," Markus promises with a soft chuckle. "I saw you shifting."
The surprise on Connor's face fades into a sheepish smile. He glances at the floor briefly, before turning his attention back to Kuni and quietly continuing, "But it's always easier when the person you're meeting is patient, isn't it?" He flicks his eyes toward Markus. "And kind. So, how about I let you take your time instead?"
But just as Connor starts to pull his hand back–
BONK.
Kuni's orange and black head taps against Connor's hand, and she rubs against it in a show of feline approval. Markus smirks. He turns to Connor, whose face breaks into a warm, bright smile as he gently glides his fingers through Kuni's fur.
It's unsurprising, how easily Kuni opened up to him. She's not usually a skittish cat, she's just lazier than the day is long. But she's always eager for attention. So, seeing her finally give in to her base urges and let someone moon over her isn't a surprise at all. To Connor, though?
It seems like it is.
The bright, eager smile on his lips is more reward than it should be. He gently scratches at her jaw, then her chin when she lifts her head for him to reach it. Laughing lightly, he turns to Markus and intones, "I guess she decided I was okay."
"She's not skittish or anything," Markus points out, then heads to the kitchen and grabs the dog and cat treats from the top of the fridge. He picks out a stick of jerky for Sumo and tosses it across the room, chuckling when the old St. Bernard catches it in midair. "She's just lazy. But I think she decided that she liked the sound of your voice and the fact that you let her pick the pace."
Markus reaches into Kuni's treat bag, and he sees the very real moment where his cat has to decide between getting a treat and getting attention. Unsurprisingly, she opts for attention. It's exactly what Markus expected, so he plucks up one of the salmon treats and brings it over to Connor.
Holding his hand out, Markus tells him, "If you really want to get into her good graces, here's the key."
Connor chuckles lightly as Markus drops the treat into his waiting palm. "They say the way to a man's heart is through his stomach," he remarks offhandedly. "I guess that's something we have in common with our non-human friends."
"Something like that," muses Markus as he heads to the kitchen to put together some snacks. "Did you still want to take a shower?"
The question seems to take Connor off-guard, like the momentary distraction of Kuni and Sumo, who crosses the room to continue to nudge at the back of Connor's knees, is enough to make him forget his need to shower. He laughs quietly as he crouches down to pet Sumo with his other hand while Kuni chows down on her treat.
Casting his eyes in Markus' direction, Connor nods. "I should. The hot water will help my sore muscles more than anything."
Markus smirks. "I promise, they'll still be here when you get back," he teases gently. "I wouldn't be surprised if they cling to you, with the way you're giving them attention. It's usually me, since Hank is always busy at work, but when any of the others come by? North, Chloe, Simon, or Josh? It's their turn."
"Huh." Connor stands up straight, turning fully toward Markus, as best he can with Sumo still nudging at the back of his knees. "I never would've taken North for an animal person."
Smirking, Markus shakes his head. "She tries to pretend she's not, but when she's here, she's always the one over-treating Sumo and Kuni," he muses with a light laugh. "And I think she's mentioned more than once that she wishes your apartment allowed pets."
Connor nods. "Me too, actually."
With an easy smile, Markus picks up a large bowl and opens a bag of party mix he bought for the garage cleaning get-together tomorrow. He pours half of it into the bowl, then makes a note on the fridge to pick up another. "Well," he reasons as he gets into the fridge for a pitcher of iced tea. "You're more than welcome to come hang out here whenever you want."
The offer seems to take Connor by surprise. "Really?" He points at himself. "Me?"
"I mean, Kuni and Sumo live here, so I can't mean them," Markus teases with a smirk.
Connor huffs, the apples of his cheeks tinging a gorgeous, rosy pink. It lights his freckles and brings out his dimples, and glows like a beacon in the dim lights of the kitchen. "I'll keep that in mind," he replies. "For the nights North is at Chloe's."
Nodding, Markus sets the pitcher down and gestures down the hall. "I'll show you to the bathroom."
As soon as Connor picks his backpack back up, Markus starts giving him a quick tour. He points out Hank's bedroom, open and messy as always. Then his room further down the hall, which is closed, but Markus knows it's perfectly presentable. His bedroom is much smaller than Hank's, so he needs to keep it somewhat neat in order to be able to move around comfortably.
It's not perfect by any means. He's sure he left some clothes out, and he needs to bring the hamper to the laundry room to wash his dirty clothes, but he wouldn't be afraid if Connor got curious.
Which seems like a distinct possibility, given the way Connor stares at the door as they pass.
They get to the end of the hall, where the bathroom door and the door that leads to the garage is, and Markus turns to Connor with a grin. "That's the garage, which you'd better get used to, since we're going to spend a grand majority of tomorrow in there," he remarks with a chuckle.
"Looking forward to seeing you tomorrow, Anderson Garage," Connor remarks with an amused smile.
Markus laughs, then opens the final door. "And this is the bathroom," he tells Connor as he opens the door and steps out of the way. "Don't worry about making it quick, okay? I shower in the morning, so you're free to take your time."
"I won't take too long," promises Connor.
"Either way," Markus interjects. "I'm going to let Sumo out, then get changed into my pajamas, so if I'm not there when you're finished, feel free to make yourself at home, okay?"
Connor nods as he sets his bag down on the floor. "Thank you, Markus," he replies with a smile. "For being so kind to me."
All Markus offers in reply is a gentle, "You deserve it," as he turns and makes his way back down the hall.
If there's a weird flutter in his chest? Well, that's between him, Kuni, and Sumo. They watch him as he makes his way down the hall. He clicks his teeth and calls Sumo's name on his way to the back door, and pauses to give Kunoichi some attention on his way by. Then, after putting a cover on the bowl of party mix to shield it from curious feline paws and bottomless feline stomach, he takes Sumo into the backyard to do his business.
The summer night is searing hot, with the pavement and metal struggling to let go of the sun's heat, even hours after it's gone down. Markus pulls at the collar of his work shirt, letting the air circulation cool his skin. As hot as it is right now, it's still much cooler than it was in the middle of the day.
Markus only wishes he could see the stars.
Standing in the backyard with nothing but his thoughts and a very curious Sumo sniffing near the fence, Markus thinks back on their dinner at the park.
It's… nice, how open Connor is with him.
Most of his friends are harder to get through to. It took him years to earn North's trust, and sometimes it still takes him a while before she'll properly open up to him. Chloe is so independent that she pretends her problems don't exist until she can't anymore. Simon would sooner shoulder the world alone than rely on anyone, and Josh would much rather keep things between himself and Simon.
But Connor… he opened up quickly.
Not fully, Markus doesn't think. He saw Connor hold back a few times—to the point that he's sure there's more to be said—but he understands. He doesn't expect full disclosure right away. In fact, he's grateful for anything Connor is willing to share.
He turns to Sumo, who paws at a rock and sniffs it curiously, before finally finding the right spot.
Markus glances at the sky, a tiny smile creeping across his face unbidden. He's surprised, how easy it's been to smile these past few days. Not that he lacks for smiles in general, but with Connor around, it just feels… easier. Like the smiles he gives are genuine, and not just something he puts forth to help the people around him feel happier.
It's new. Different in a way he can't quite explain.
Just the thought of it brings another smile to his face. He has to make a point to thank North when he gets the chance. If it wasn't for her persistent determination to introduce them…
Well, Markus is just glad she did.
Sumo trots back to the porch and looks up at Markus with his massive tongue hanging from the side of his mouth. Markus can't help but chuckle at the glob of drool that hangs down from his jowls to the ground, but shields his face as Sumo shakes his head sharply, throwing the St. Bernard drool wildly around the area.
As they turn to head into the house, Markus reaches down to ruffle the fur on top of Sumo's head. He smiles down at the dog and says, "I've got a good feeling, Sumo. I don't know exactly what it is, but… it's definitely good."
When Sumo responds with a resounding BOOF as Markus opens the door, he thinks it's the dog's way of saying he feels the same.
The house is still quiet when he steps inside and closes the door behind him. He can vaguely hear the shower running on the far side of the house. He smiles and picks up the remote to turn the stereo on. Of course, he has to flip the channel away from Hank's loud, obnoxious heavy metal, but he seeks out the classic rock station and smiles softly.
Connor seemed to like when his playlist passed by these songs, too. As the song changes from Bowie to Rush, Markus glances at Sumo and Kuni and quietly reasons, "I should change out of my work clothes."
He sets the remote on the kitchen counter, in case Connor gets out of the shower before he finishes, then heads to his room to get into change into something more comfortable.
Despite the central air in the house, it's still warm. So, the moment Markus closes his bedroom door behind him, he digs into his dresser for a pair of shorts and a tank top. He finds his favorite pair of black drawstring basketball shorts, and an old, gray, faded tank top with the phases of the moon in a vertical line down the chest.
But as the moment he strips his jeans off… he freezes.
The old, faded burn scarring covering almost the entirety of his calves, down over the tops of his feet, catches his attention in the mirror. He hums quietly, looking up the length of his calves to where the burns fade into more sporadic peppering across his knees and thighs.
If he wears these shorts, he'll be putting that pinched, rolled skin on display. Does he really want Connor to see it? To open up questions he doesn't really have concrete answers to? Things he doesn't really remember, beyond the memories therapy dragged to the surface?
As he wonders, a memory springs to the forefront of his mind. Like some governing fate decided to give him the answer he was looking for.
The West Detroit Rehabilitation Center is quiet this late in the day, but the staff often takes sympathy on Markus and lets him stay well past the end of visitation hours. It took a lot of begging from Hank, but they eventually decided that seeing Markus, remembering why he was fighting so hard to get better, would be a huge help to Hank's recovery.
So, oftentimes, they'll let him stay until nine or ten o'clock, when Simon's father gets out of work and picks him up to take him to the Phillips home.
Markus misses home. He misses his room and his yard and everything he was forced to leave behind when Hank was forced into rehab, but he's grateful that Simon let him stay.
If he hadn't, he probably would've been forced into some foster home. Taken away from Hank and put into the system.
He doesn't want that.
So, if he has to stay at Simon and Daniel's place until Hank is allowed to come home? Well, there are much worse places he could be.
A throat clear draws his attention, and Markus turns to look at the couch in Hank's room. Markus snaps his attention toward the sound, meeting Hank's haggard gaze and frowning worriedly. He looks exhausted. He's been in here for two weeks now, and a week from now he'll finally be able to come home, but…
A week feels like forever.
Markus pushes those thoughts aside and manages a smile. "Yeah?"
"Listen, kid," Hank's voice rings in his mind, ten years younger and just recovering from an experience so harrowing that Markus himself hasn't fully recovered yet. He grunts and sits up straight, then runs a hand through his unkempt hair. "You don't have to fake that smile for me. I know you're upset."
Shaking his head sharply, Markus denies, "No… I'm not upset, I—" He pauses, then looks down at the floor. "I'm not upset."
Upset isn't enough. He's scared. Terrified. Haunted in both his dreams and his waking hours by what he saw that day. Worried to the pit of his heart that when Hank comes home, it's just going to happen again, but he won't be able to stop it next time. But he's not upset. Calling it upset is stupid.
But he has to be okay. Because if he's not okay, it'll be harder for Hank to get better.
This happened because he causes too much trouble. If he was better—if he didn't act out and do stupid things and run off to have fun with his friends—Hank wouldn't have felt the need to drink so much that he almost died.
Hank frowns. "Markus. You don't have to pretend."
With a quiet scoff, Markus shakes his head and looks out the window at the bushes behind the rehab center. "I'm fine."
"Markus," Hank calls, and the sound of his voice shocks Markus to his core.
It sounds… gentle. Pleading. Warm in a way Markus hasn't heard from him since he was a little kid and was visiting with Cole after school. To Markus' complete surprise, Hank sounds as scared as Markus feels. And his expression matches. His eyes are on the tile floor, his lips a thin straight line, and his hands folded in his lap.
All together, it paints a version of Hank that Markus has never seen before.
Then, he smiles.
It's not a real, genuine, confident smile. More tenuous and terrified, trying to project comfort when he feels anxious. He slides down on the couch and pats the spot next to him. "Come sit with me, son."
So, Markus does as he's asked. He gets up, then settles on the couch next to Hank. When Hank pulls him into a one-armed hug, Markus is… shocked. At first, it's hard to ignore the overwhelming smell of hospital. The too-clean, scentless soap, chemical smell of the clothes and the couch and the whole damn room.
But Hank's soothing hug is a reminder that he didn't die; that he didn't abandon Markus, leave him alone to fend for himself. So, Markus takes that for what it is and leans into his father's side.
He doesn't reciprocate the hug, he just grips at his own knees, the rough fabric of his motorcycle jeans serving as a tether to keep him from breaking down in tears.
Hank lets out a quiet grunt, then squeezes Markus' shoulder. "I'm gonna be honest with you, kid." He pauses and laughs. "Not about anything in particular. But… in general. From now on, okay?"
Markus' brows rise. "Huh?"
"Rose told me that I shouldn't be afraid to rely on you just because you're a kid. That you're fourteen now. Old enough to understand things. To know more about me," Hank adds. "She also told me that her relationship with Luther and Adam is so good because she trusts them, and they trust her. I want you to trust me again."
"I do…" replies Markus, thoroughly shocked by Hank's candidness.
"I…" Hank chuckles. "I'm glad, but… I think it's my turn. You're my son. Any relationship worth having—family, friends, or otherwise—should start with trust. So… I'm gonna work on it. Okay? Talk to you more. Be the father you deserve."
Markus stares at Hank, fully open and honest for the first time since he adopted Markus seven years ago, and for the first time since then… he feels like he has a family. He can't help it. He bursts out in tears, burying his face in Hank's hospital robe-clad shoulder. Hank's arms wrap around him, and he manages a stilted, terse nod.
In a tearful, throaty voice, he replies, "Okay."
Any relationship worth having—family, friends, or otherwise—should start with trust.
Hank's words play in Markus' head as he looks down at the rolling scars on his calves. He casts a quick glance toward his bedroom door, and his lips quirk into a half-smile.
He wants to be a friend worth having to Connor. He wants Connor's trust, more than he probably should for someone he's only known for less than a week. If that's what he wants, he has to be willing to extend his hand all the way. To build his half of the bridge by telling Connor the parts of himself that aren't so great.
So, without a second thought, he tugs his shorts on, ties the drawstring, and pulls his tank top on.
The scarring still makes him a touch self-conscious, but if Connor was willing to share details about his dad, Markus should be able to share his own trauma. He heads over to his desk and picks up one of his full sketchbooks—the last one he filled, before Hank bought him the one he's currently using last Christmas—and tucks it under his arm.
Finally, he heads for the door and steps out into the hallway.
The bathroom door is open, the pleasant smell of blackberries and coconut pouring into the hallway. The refreshing smell of lemongrass and toothpaste joins the initial blend, and Markus can't help but smirk as he turns toward the living room. His music still lilts down the hall, now on a classic Heart song, and Markus smirks as he sees that Kuni has abandoned her post on top of her cat tower.
Sure enough, when Markus rounds the corner, Connor is standing at one of Hank's many shelves—the one with Markus' books and all of Hank's old vinyl albums—looking at a photo. Kuni is up on top of the shelf, her tail twitching back and forth as she looks down at Connor, and Sumo lazes on his dog bed a few feet away, watching Connor just as curiously.
Markus understands the fascination.
Connor looks… incredible.
It's strange to say, when he's just in a pair of royal blue running shorts and a white athletic tank, with a pair of black no-show slipper socks on… but it's true. The shorts, down to his mid-thighs, put his toned, muscled legs on grand display.
If Markus didn't already know he was an athlete, it would have been abundantly clear upon seeing him here. His arms are lean in the same way, and through the tank he wears, Markus can see the tone of his chest and back. He sees the light peppering of freckles on his shoulders and arms, and the way they continue to his legs.
Those flowing brown curls are slicked back, the curls just barely creeping back in as his hair dries. He looks… amazing.
Markus shakes his head sharply. That's… no way to be thinking about his friend. So, instead, he clears his throat and steps fully into the room. Connor jumps to attention and turns his way, setting the picture back on the shelf.
"Oh. Hello, Markus," Connor greets, his smile soft and shy. "Sorry, I wasn't trying to… be nosy or anything. I was just curious."
Shaking his head, Markus gestures toward the bookshelf. "I told you to make yourself comfortable," he reminds Connor with a chuckle. He glances at the picture Connor put down and smiles. It's Markus' second grade class photo, with Markus and Cole holding the second grade class sign. "Did you find anything that interested you?"
Connor nods. "Several things," he tells Markus as he reaches up to pet Kuni on top of the shelf. "But I didn't dig too deep. I didn't want to overstep or anything."
"No such thing," Markus reassures him. "If you want, you can keep looking around while I make us some snacks, and then we can watch a movie or something?"
With a surprised blink, Connor asks, "You're sure?"
Markus nods. "Positive." He uncovers the bowl of party mix in the kitchen. "You can check the movie shelf for something to watch. We have streaming services too, but Hank is kinda old school, so he still likes to use Blu-rays and stuff."
A small smile spreads across Connor's face. "Okay. But if you need any help in the kitchen—"
"I'll ask."
Markus chuckles as he brings the party mix to the coffee table, then turns to the kitchen to make a few antipasto skewers for them to share.
But as soon as he gets everything set up on the counter, he finds his eyes drawn back to Connor.
It's nice to have company tonight. Even nicer that it's Connor. He doesn't mind being in the house by himself so much, but being able to turn and talk to Connor feels… better than he thinks it should. It's the type of thing he could get used to. He just hopes Connor enjoys himself as much as Markus already is.