It comes to him not in numbers, but exacts. He hears the buzzing, sure. The small hum that would tell him where to find the bugs. But he feels the heat in the room, closer to him, further from them, on Connor's hands in precise areas of 'warmer than this thing" "cooler than this thing". No numbers. Just an exact sense of where that boundary of comparison lies.

He lacks any statistical control, his mind unable to settle on particular numbers, but if Connor were to use his mind palace, he'd be able to see it.

He knows that Connor is feeling himself back, and Hank grumbles a soft 'sorry' for not being in better control of that.

There are little unique things Hank feels, too. The ache of old bones, like a discomfort in his knees due to his tendency to sit oddly in chairs. A permenant crick in his back. Things that might not translate precisely to an android mind, but still come through that feedback loop.

While he's calm, though, he doesn't otherwise interfere with any of Connor's systems. The contented mood is settling.