[For a lingering moment, Connor is ready to chalk up everything Hank is saying to delirium courtesy of the fever. Ramblings that have meaning behind them, but the meaning is winding and irrelevant to the moment at hand. But then the man keeps speaking. And Connor stills his step just for a moment, looking at him, scrutinizing him, because he hears the question for what it is, Why aren't you acting like the machine you're supposed to be?]

I... I don't-

[Undestand what you're trying to say, would be the easiest escape route to take. A flat-out lie. But Connor can't, not with how Hank looks right now, but the issue is that he doesn't know how to scrape together a reply to that. Feels that sensation of code not lining up properly in the shadowed corners of his mind, of recursive routines that want to flare up and dance in front of his vision, but he pushes that all aside. Has to, can't afford to waste time talking about why he can't bring himself to do anything except help Hank.]

A lot's changed between what you last remember, and what I last recall.

[The answer is out before he realizes it, as if pushed past his lips by some unknown force.]

Wouldn't it just be easier for you to think of me as your partner wanting to aid you? Just for today, just for your sake.