There was no good reason to resist Connor's suggestion of relocating to the bed. Nothing except for Hank's tendency to punish himself whenever possible. He wasn't stupid; he knew sleeping on the couch would leave him sore and stiff-necked. It didn't matter. He was already here. The aches and pains would motivate him to wake up that much sooner, he figured. They had a lot of ground to cover in the morning.
"A new hair do might do the trick. Piercings. Jewelry," Hank rattled off, only half serious. That's when an idea came to him. On his person were three relics of bygone eras. His high school class ring, a gold chain given by his ex-wife, and a fine Swedish timepiece. The Rolex had cost him almost four grand, but he considered it a sound investment. Back then, his future seemed brighter. There was more disposable income to throw around.
According to the dealer, the watch would only lose one second every decade. Hank was certain it would last his lifetime. And once he was gone, it looked nice enough to warrant passing on. Someday, he'd hoped his son would wear it.
Sleepily fumbling the clasp open, Hank offered it without looking at Connor. No sense getting all mushy about the gesture. They were only looking for practical means of quick identification in a pinch. It wasn't that big a deal. Ahem. "I realize you don't need help telling the time," Hank explained. "But that's what make it kinda funny. When in Rome, dress as the Romans do." Hank's version of the old adage was all wrong, but the corners of his mouth quirked into a smile regardless. "I've got my phone and that weird ass device that showed up when we got here. Don't worry about me needing it. I forget the damn thing on my nightstand half the time, anyway."