“Isn’t it difficult? I’m not even the” — person, he almost says — “not even who I was a week ago. And next week, who knows? I could be kinder. I could be more cruel. I’m so new at this and I just don’t know. I can’t predict who I’ll become when I have no idea who I’ll meet or what obstacles I’ll have to overcome.”

It’s a little unsettling how much Connor came to rely on Hank despite knowing him for such a short period of time: how he became home when Connor only understood the technical definition.

Now Connor is swimming against the current, all by himself.

“I would... like that.” He presses a little too hard against the glass, squeaking ever so slightly before he pulls back. “I would like it if people were to know.”

Hank, he means. But that’s not something Connor feels he can talk about. Not just yet. Maybe not ever.

But if he wants Hank to live on...

Instead, Connor says: “It’s raining.”