"Winter On The Beat" - M, Cold - Detroit Become Human, Younger Hank

[SleepingPhlox]

It's a fanfiction but there's nothing so specific to the fandom that you'd have to know about it to read it!  Yeah, I'm still really into DBH and pretty fascinated by Hank's backstory and the hints as to what kind of a person he used to be.  Then I read the description accompanying the gallery entry for his "snow" outfit starts with "Having started out as a beat cop on Detroit's streets, he knows the winters are cold and pitiless" and quite frankly I don't know how anyone could read that and not immediately start dreaming up sickfics! So I did this, an exploration of Hank's character in his younger days - but, like, with sneezing.  Self indulgent little oneshot, really.

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An icy gust of wind stirred up the litter along the sidewalk, a stray chocolate bar wrapper rising up to briefly flirt with a perfectly pressed blue trouser leg of a police uniform before skittering off into the distance.  The street was run down, having fallen into hard times since its heyday, but there were signs of new life returning to the place.  Freshly painted shopfronts, new faces arriving and quickly becoming familiar as they each established their own routines.  Families were starting to appear in the area too, and that was a good sign.  It would start snowing soon, but for now everything was just cold. And grey.

Officer Hank Anderson walked along this street every day, even on his days off.   Since he had been assigned to the beat patrol here, he felt a sense of paternal pride over the place.  When a new shop opened, he was among the first to come in and greet the new owners and become one of their regular patrons.  Well, most of the shops.  He couldn't do much shopping in the lingerie boutique - but he lived in hopeful optimism that it would stay open long enough to be there when he finally met someone he'd be buying anniversary presents for.

Hopeful optimism was the defining trait anyone would point out if asked to describe him.  He'd joined the police force to make a difference in his hometown of Detroit, and he was damn well determined to do just that.  It was a good city, a damn good city, it had just fallen on hard times, and he knew that with enough people that really cared, it could be restored to its former glory.  The folks he met as he went along his patrol were suspicious of him at first - the police force not having made a very good name for itself until now.  But as they came to get to know him, and his presence became familiar on the streets, he had gained their trust.  He was there to work for them after all.  Not to throw his weight around, drunk on the slightest hint of power like many other officers, both his predecessors and peers, had gotten a reputation for.  They knew there were three things he wouldn't stand for: theft, drugs, and violence.  He had no interest in bothering anyone who wasn't causing trouble.  And that bought him no small amount of respect from the people here.

It was that hopeful optimism that kept him walking this route day after day with the same energy, asking everyone how things were going, greeted by faces that were genuinely happy to see him.  Well, most days.  He did not have that energy today.  It was hard to, when his feet felt like they were filled with lead and his head felt like it was filled with lead and everything felt like it was filled with lead.  That is, except for his nose, shining like a red beacon in the grey gathering gloom of early evening, which was most definitely filled with something else entirely that was intent on leaking out at every opportunity.  He sniffled and wiped at the droplet that had gathered on the end of his nose with a gloved hand, and then sniffled again.  Not that any of that did sweet fuck all for the problem and he could already feel the trickle starting again.

"Hey, Hank!  I said how are you doing?  Wow, you're in a world of your own there," A voice called out somewhere to his side, and stopped him in his slowly trudging tracks.  Hank looked up and turned toward the source of the voice, which caused the voice to append on a sympathetic "Geez, wow, no wonder.  You look like shit."

"Thanks, Ronnie.  Just what everyone likes to hear," Hank fired back, his usual smooth and deep voice much more gravelly than normal.  There was a gruffness in his voice but he mitigated it with a genuine, though weak, smile.  He liked Ronnie.  Good kid who hadn't had the easiest start in life, thanks to parents with addiction issues, but so bright and so hardworking.  Ronnie's cafe was thriving, and rightfully so, because the kid made a damn good sandwich.  Definitely a favoured stop of choice for Hank when he hungered for a light lunch.

"You need something hot to eat.  Come in here and I'll make you something," Ronnie insisted. 

"Nah," Hank said, shaking his head. "Already behind as it is.  I don't think I-"

And as luck would have it, the ever-present tickle that had been tormenting his nose all day chose precisely that moment to flare up.  He thrust his hand into his pocket to desperately rummage for the well-used tissue stored there, as his head drew back, upper lip curled to reveal his teeth.  He managed to bring the damp tissue up to his face just in time.

"hhnghYEHHHSHH!...hehhRRSHHchhuh!" 

He finished the display off with a weary sigh, wiping his nose with the tissue and putting it back in his pocket.  Though he dearly would have liked to blow his nose, there was no way the tissue would stand up to that kind of treatment.  It wasn't that he'd come out unprepared.  No, entirely the opposite, really.  He'd thought when he'd started out that he'd brought more than enough tissues to last for the duration of his patrol.  He'd been wrong.  And now that he was down to his last one, he couldn't bring himself to part with it.  It was better than nothing, even if only just.

"Well what if you just happened to come in and warm up while I told you about the guys I saw hanging around the place who looked like they were up to no good?  That would be entirely within your job description, wouldn't it?"

Hank smiled, his shoulders slumping in defeat, knowing that there was very little point in continuing to attempt to resist.  He followed Ronnie into the small but cozy little cafe, lit with a welcoming orange glow and - perhaps most importantly - heated so delightfully there was condensation along the lower parts of the windows and doors.  The warmer temperature came as an almost immediate relief to his chill-wracked body.  He collapsed into a chair with all the grace of a bag of wet sand, the decorations on the walls momentarily catching his attention.  Memorabilia related to all stages of Detroit's past and present.  Framed pages from decades-old newspapers, license plates - usually Hank loved to admire the eclectic spread of history, but he didn't have the energy right now.

"Grilled cheese and bacon?  It's on the house." Ronnie said, slipping behind the counter.  Hank's "usual" changed every couple of weeks, he would order the same thing religiously and then grow tired of it and go for something else.   The last couple of weeks he'd definitely been on a grilled cheese and bacon kick.  Hank pondered this, wondering if the sandwich was worth eating if he wouldn't be able to taste it.  A hungry growl in his stomach let him know that it know that it would indeed be very much worth it.  He nodded a grateful assent, and added a request to throw in some onions in the hopes that they might help relieve his nasal passages.  Because he had noticed a wonderful, wonderful thing: the napkin holder on the table.  He helped himself to one, folded it over his beleaguered nose, and blew as quietly and delicately as he could manage.  He didn't want to disturb the other people just trying to eat in peace.  But unfortunately, he was a large, strapping specimen of a man, and nothing about him was delicate, and his nose didn't really do "quiet".

Doubly unfortunately, blowing his nose just seemed to make it want to complain again, and he discarded the used tissue onto the smooth plastic tabletop to hurriedly grab for a new one.

"HehhGGYYYEHHtchhu!...huhhhhRRRRRTCHHggh!"

He was aware that at least one pair of eyes was on him, which he couldn't fault, really.  If he'd been confronted with something that loud, he'd have instinctively looked toward the noise as well.  As it was, his attention was instinctively drawn to the light clunk of a coffee mug being set down on the table in front of him.

"Some coffee while you wait.  Just the way you like it."

Hank nodded appreciatively.  Unlike his sandwich order, his coffee preference remained unchanged since he started drinking coffee and he couldn't imagine it would ever have cause to change.  In an uncertain world, it was nice to have that one thing that he could count on, that would never change.  He sipped the coffee, enjoying the warmth even if it didn't taste like much, and set the mug back down on the table.

Oh no, not again.

"HehhRRRRGHshhu!...god damn it..." he grumbled, reaching for another napkin.  He blew his nose and cleared his throat, which seemed to set off a reaction in his throat, and he found himself in the middle of a coughing fit, his broad shoulders jerking as he struggled to keep it as quiet as possible.

"Man, Hank.  I've seen this thing going around lately but I haven't seen anyone get it as bad as you have."

Hank shrugged.  "I guess I'm just lucky," he joked weakly.  In truth, he couldn't reasonably expect anything less.  His body didn't do "slight" colds.  It was all or nothing for him, always had been and probably always would be, and it seemed his body had decided to go all in with whatever godforsaken virus had decided to do the rounds this time.  And if he managed to find out who was responsible for giving this to him…

An insistent beeping from the kitchen cut into his thoughts, and caught Ronnie’s attention too.  He stood up, and with a “That’d be your sandwich.  I’ll be right back”, he had disappeared off into the back.  Moments later he reappeared with a glass of orange juice and plate, atop which rested a sandwich that looked disappointingly delicious.  Disappointing because Hank knew he wouldn’t be able to taste it, but damn he wish he could.  It was piping hot to the point that steam rose up in curls, perfectly crispy bacon peeked out from the sides, the warm cheese oozing out, still warm and soft.

He murmured appreciatively at the sight, even if that was a bit of a mistake as it made him cough again.  He was less interested in the orange juice that was set down alongside it, but he would be grateful for it anyway.  He sniffled as he picked up the sandwich and tore a slice in half, admiring wistfully how the cheese stretched perfectly in thick gooey strands as he pulled it apart.  Yeah, not being able to taste it would be a shame.

“So,” he said, then took a bite of sandwich without thinking.  He held up a finger as he chewed and swallowed before continuing.  “Did you really see some suspicious guys in the area, or…”

“Of course.  I wouldn’t lie to an officer of the law, would I?” Ronnie replied, a hint of a smile trying to make an appearance on his lips.

“So go on then,”  Hank prompted, shoving some more sandwich into his grateful mouth.  He’d been right in his prediction, he couldn’t taste it but man did the warmth feel so good sliding down into his stomach.  He hadn’t felt like eating all day, and he hadn’t realised how much he needed something like this until he had it.  He chased it down with a sip of orange juice.  The combination of orange juice and cheese would probably taste horrifyingly disgusting any other time, so he was grateful for his thoroughly blocked nose for sparing him that, at least.

“Ah, yeah well, last night some guys I think from the local college were hitting up the bars in the area.  Bunch of them ran down the street cheering and they came up to the window and knocked on it and waved before they ran off again.”

“Seriously?” Hank said through a mouthful of sandwich, with a raised eyebrow.

“Hey, I’m just reporting what I saw like a good citizen.  I don’t have the expertise to determine if something is a big deal or not like you do.”

Hank shook his head and rolled his eyes, reaching for another napkin, though this time at least, it was to wipe his lips.  His nose was going to need attention again in a minute, so he kept it in his hand for easy access.

“And do you want to make a formal report?” he joked.

“Nah.  I don’t even remember what they looked like.  Coulda been anybody really.”

“Good, because I ha-…I h-…hhhhRRRGGHHshhh!”  Only too late did he realise he was holding the napkin in the wrong hand.  He just sneezed on his bare skin.  Gross. So gross. Ugh. He gave a weary sigh and wiped the evidence from the palm of his hand.  “I hate paperwork,” he managed to finish once he’d caught his breath. 

“Bless you.  Did the sandwich and coffee help at least?”

“Yeah, y’know I didn’t think it was going to but it did.  It really did.  Thanks, kid.  I’m probably going to need to get going now.  Mind if I take some of these?” He gestured toward the napkins and, with Ronnie’s blessing, stuffed his pockets with as many as he thought he might need to keep him going through the rest of his shift.

And then it was back out into the biting cold air, back to trying to stay as warm as possible and focus on just putting one foot in front of the other as his aching body shivered and his nose dripped and the wind managed to find every way possible to get past the defenses of his clothes and chill him down to his very bones.

But, he had to admit, the small but comforting meal did manage to hold him over.  Even though his suffering began again in earnest the moment he stopped outside, it was a little bit easier to finish his shift.  Or, at least, manage to hold out until he was back at home, wasting no time in exchanging his uniform for the bulkiest sweats and warmest socks he could find, and burying himself under his two heaviest blankets after swallowing a nicely generous dose of NyQuil.  There, he could finally shut his eyes and find some relief from the misery, at least until morning.

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The End

[SneezyHolmes]

I loved this!  Thanks for sharing! 

[funbusej]

Ah, Hank is my weakness!!