He can almost feel Hank's disappointment even without the interface connection between them, and he tries to act like he doesn't by taking a drink. It reminds him a little bit of the Baileys Hank once had him try, only the alcoholic bite isn't there behind it and it's much sweeter. Not quite the fizzy radioactive drink Hank had in their room before - it doesn't quite cross over into too sweet.

And swallowing it is even stranger because he can feel the heat leaving his mouth and going down his throat.

It takes Hank a long while to say anything, and Connor has no idea what's going on in his mind in that time. What happened only a couple weeks ago has made Connor think of Hank's brain as having something in it akin to an Amanda - a separate presence needling his mind. Of course, he knows what it really is: an illness, some kind of imbalance in the brain as sure as if he had a gaping wound in his side. But it strangely helps his understanding to call it Hank's very own Amanda.

"I don't want to leave Dualis PD," he explains. "I was hoping I could help you out with this, then try to get into crisis negotiation. I could consult on some cases as well," he goes on hurriedly. "I have the skills, it would be a waste not to use them at all.

"But I was made to be a detective and then used as a deviant hunter. I don't... It's..."

He doesn't know how to explain it. He pets the cat in his lap with one hand and swirls his drink in the other. "It feels complicated."