Shoot. Go for it. You wanted to see him, didn’t you?

[Hank pats Sumo on the head as he passes, heading to the kitchen to set the basket down.

Meanwhile, Sumo looks up at Connor. Raising what Hank would call his big, dopey head. Yawning.

He takes up a large portion of the couch — Hank stopped trying to keep him off the furniture here.]

[Sumo sniffs at Connor, tongue lolling once the petting starts.

From the kitchen, Hank says:] You’re gonna spoil him, huh?

[The dog’s tail starts to wag as if to say, “Yes! Spoil me! The good boy.”

Sumo enjoys a life largely consisting of naps, but Connor is interesting. Enough to get him butting up against Connor’s hand, seeking more attention.

“Boof,“ barks Sumo, softly. “Borf.”]

[“Borf!” says Sumo, suddenly energized by Connor’s arrival. He stands up, stretching out his back. Turning toward the kitchen, his wagging tail brushing against Connor, before he trots over to Hank.

Not so much as a “borf” or a “boof” for Hank. No, Sumo grabs his food bowl in his mouth and brings it back to Connor. Nudging it toward him.

“Boof,” says Sumo, amicably.]

Just fed that dog this morning. [Hank rolls his eyes.

He puts some of the thirium in the cupboard, wanting to keep a supply here. Just in case.]

Not gonna take all your thirium. I’ll go back for more later, too.

[There isn’t much in the cupboards. Dog food in the cabinet by the fridge. Bread. Peanut butter. Two of every dish and utensil so he doesn’t have to wash dishes as often.

Hank enjoyed the diner here when he first got to Etraya. Burgers! Milkshakes! But ever since Connor got taken away, he hasn’t made the trip.

Sumo awaits his meal!!]

Sure. Not that you have to ask that.

[Hank turns around and leans against the counter. Hands across his chest.

Meanwhile, Sumo sniffs at Connor’s delicious-looking shoe in thanks before he noisily starts to inhale his kibble. All while Hank speaks.]

Then I get to ask you a question.

[Or a few.]

[Hank rolls his eyes at Connor’s “lieutenant.”]

And you can ask me questions, too. You don’t need to ask permission.

[He starts drumming his fingers against his arm. Shrugs his shoulders.]

Isn’t that the goal? Save our world and get the fuck outta here?

[Hank almost, almost bites back the rest. But he looks up at Connor. Squinting.

Connor is family, so he gets to know. Maybe not about Vincent, but everything else.]

I wanted to get the fuck outta here. Whatever it took.

The hell kind of question is that?

[Hank shakes his head. The fucking gall of this guy.]

You’re here. That’s what’s changed.

You got any more questions with obvious as fuck answers?

Yes, you. There any other Connors hanging around here?

[Hank looks around before shrugging his shoulders.]

No, what — I’m fine. Not gonna starve. Is there something you wanted to get?

That’s not something you gotta do, Connor. Thought we talked about this.

[Not cooking specifically, but close enough.]

I can feed myself.

[There’s bread!!]

I can get it myself. You don’t gotta cook, and you don’t gotta shop for me.

[Friends do each other favors, sure. But this is different. Hank doesn’t want Connor to feel like he has to do these things.]

Maybe all I want to eat right now is bread. You ever think about that?

Why are you so insistent on feeding me? I’m not even hungry, Connor.

[Hank’s stomach growls. But it’s just reacting to the thought of food!!]

Good thing you remembered my name. Finally.

And why wouldn’t you have the permission to do so? Thought we went through all this.

[Not that Hank wouldn’t do so again, just to — hopefully — get his feelings across. Hank’s just wondering where he went wrong.]

Some things are more important than food.