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The Freakiest Friday

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Hank exhaled a long, deep sigh as he entered his house. He's grateful that they finished their paperwork before midnight. The pot of coffee had worn off hours ago.
He slowly slid out of his jacket, threw it onto the couch and he kicked off his shoes. The bright lights in the living room intensified his headache.
Connor closed the door behind them before he removed his jacket in one swift motion. His LED had remained yellow for the past couple of hours. He dreaded the paperwork that accompanied every case given to them. On his own, he’d be fine, but Hank often needed help - especially when he's exhausted himself.
Sumo lifted his head up with a smile as he panted happily, immediately his tail excitedly smacked against the living room floor. He let out a soft ‘boof’.
“Hey, Sumo,” Hank greeted the dog.
“Hi, Sumo,” Connor perked up as he walked over to Sumo. He knelt down to scratch behind Sumo’s ears.
“Ah, Jesus Christ, Sumo!” Hank exclaimed.
Immediately, Connor jumped up to see Hank avoid the large yellow puddle on the kitchen floor. He frowned down at Sumo.
“Sumo,” Connor tiredly mumbled. He walked to the kitchen, grabbed paper towels and disinfectant spray to clean up. Connor didn’t enjoy cleaning up after Hank and Sumo, especially since accidents like this happened frequently the last couple of weeks, “he’s doing this too often, Hank.”
Hank exhaled a short and quiet groan as he dug through the fridge.
“It’s just the second time,” Hank replied gruffly as he pulled out a beer bottle. He knocked the cap off with help from the counter edge.
“The second time this week,” Connor sternly replied. His lips pressed tightly together as the cap rolled by him, “And there might be a third, fourth, and fifth time.”
He plucked the cap out from the puddle then tossed it at the trash can, not missing his target.
“Fuckin’ hell, Connor,” Hank breathed out and rubbed his eyes, the migraine increased, “He just had an accident, it happens.”
Sumo let out a sorrowful whine from the living room.
“It’s concerning, Hank,” Connor continued as he finished cleaning up, “he’ll think that it’s okay to keep doing this because we clean up his mess.”
Hank kept his eyes closed as he rubbed them. He let out a whispered groaned when Connor’s rant continued.
“You’ve become too lenient with Sumo. He needs a routine,” Connor insisted. The headache pulsed faster behind Hank’s eyes. He felt anxiety pulse under his skin as
Connor’s voice became background noise.
Connor was focused on anything, but Hank. He held back the bubbling anger in his abdomen. He had held it down for a while - often told himself that he’d deal with the cause of emotions later, but he kept postponing.
Hank’s focus was clouded by his migraine. He couldn’t handle Connor’s annoyed tone, the bright lights, Sumo’s high-noted whimpers, all while his body ached. Eventually, it all became unbearable.
“I GOT IT!” Hank shouted. Connor went silent at the outburst, “If you want Sumo’s routine to be fucking perfect, then why don’t you do it yourself, huh? I’m too goddamn tired and old to deal with all this shit! So, get off my fucking dick, Connor!”
Connor stared at Hank with wide eyes and mouth slightly agape. His LED rapidly flickered between yellow and red. His shocked reaction soured as his LED settled on red.
“I’m doing my best at caring for you and Sumo! I’m working just as much as you at work and at home! I may be a ‘state of the art prototype’ but I get tired too, Hank!” Connor shouted back. Sumo’s whimpering got louder while he sat between them.
“Oh yeah?” Hank half-laughed, half-sighed, “You’re a goddamn robot! What makes you tired? You can run for days and not give a damn! Shove your stupid ‘state of the art’ nonsense up your ass!”
Connor’s glare remained on Hank as Sumo’s nose pushed into his hand.
Sumo howled sadly, catching both their attention.
Connor knew he needed to leave. He needed to cool off.
Hank was annoyed at everything, from Sumo’s whispered whimper, Connor’s angry glare, to the stench of piss in the kitchen.
“I’m taking Sumo out,” Connor bitterly muttered. Hank remained silent as Connor walked to the door.
“Let’s go, Sumo,” Connor pulled Sumo’s leash off the keyholder by the door.
Sumo whined as he slowly walked to Connor, often looked back to Hank with sad eyes.
Hank felt his chest ache at Sumo’s face, but the anger overpowered him.
Connor slammed the door behind him, which shook the wall and scared Sumo - who yelped.
“Don’t slam the fucking door!” Hank shouted after them.
Connor glared toward the door before he escorted Sumo down the sidewalk.
“Sorry to scare you,” Connor apologized to Sumo.

Inside the house, Hank glared at the door as he muttered, “fucking androids.”
He paced through the kitchen, hands balled into fists. His whole body shook in anger. He needed to punch something.
After a few minutes of grunts, curses, and a stubbed toe, Hank resigned to his bed. The amount of stress he had been under finally boiled over. Although it felt nice to throw and break stuff, he felt guilt take over. He covered his face with his hands as he whispered, “shit.”
He’d have to apologize to both Connor and Sumo, but he’d do that in the morning. Now that the adrenaline rush disappeared, he returned to his exhausted state.
Hank let the exhaustion send him to sleep.

Connor returned twenty minutes later with Sumo curled in his arms. The older dog had gotten tired halfway through their walk, so Connor carried him around. He wanted to come back once Sumo laid on the ground, but he felt antsy. He decided to walk until the anger settled.
When he arrived home the living room lights were still on, but Hank’s room was dark.
The inside was a mess. Hank seemed to have knocked over the kitchen chairs, all the items on the table, and boxes of dry food. The kitchen table had moved to the opposite end of the kitchen. Connor’s face turned emotionless as he shook his head. He won’t clean that up.
He placed Sumo on the couch, returned the leash to the key hook, and lied back into the recliner. Now that the anger had settled, he realized that he deeply regretted his rant. He had repressed any annoyance to address later, but that hadn’t been the right decision. He would need to approach the situation in a different way - and faster so they won’t argue again.
Connor turned his head at Sumo when the dog snored. He smiled softly before he closed his eyes.
He knew that he’d need to apologize to Hank and Sumo. But, they’re both asleep, so he’d wait until the morning.
For now, he needed to rest.
He’d deal with the aftermath later.
Connor relaxed into the chair as he entered stasis.