[Connor pushes away confusion for the sake of stringing Hank’s sentences together in his mind in a logical fashion. And the tapestry he puts together, an admittedly slipshod thing, is rearranged in a way that makes him hesitate. Makes whatever queue of proper responses, as dictated by his programming, stutter and die before they’re even fully formed.
What to say to that? That they’re not real? That they’re not here? Hank isn’t wrong, with the exception of one thing—]
Sumo is real. Sumo’s here with you, just like me.
[It sounds useless, dangling in the air between them. A sickly piece of comfort, meaning nothing when Hank’s loss is so much more than his loyal dog and a bothersome android trying to guide him around.]
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What to say to that? That they’re not real? That they’re not here? Hank isn’t wrong, with the exception of one thing—]
Sumo is real. Sumo’s here with you, just like me.
[It sounds useless, dangling in the air between them. A sickly piece of comfort, meaning nothing when Hank’s loss is so much more than his loyal dog and a bothersome android trying to guide him around.]
I won't take him away if you don't want me to.