The front door unlocked and Hank stepped inside with Joel, the precinct technician, right behind him. The two men were carrying various pieces of technical equipment designed to help androids under the their arms and over their shoulders. It didn't take Hank long to notice that Cole wasn't laying on the couch as he had asked him to do, and knew exactly where he'd find the little boy. Taking the lead Hank showed Joel up the stairs into his Connor's bedroom where, unsurprisingly, Cole was sitting beside Connor on the deviant's bed. Even Sumo was still there being the ever loyal dog that he was.
"Cole?" Hank addressed his younger son with a firm but gentle voice. "That isn't the couch."
"Sorry, dad. I just wanted to check on Connor."
"It's fine." Smirking a little as he wasn't surprised to see Cole was staying with the injured deviant. "Just go downstairs and stay there." Placing the gathered equipment down on the floor beside the bed he gave Cole a stern glance. "We're going to help Connor."
Cole nodded as he got up from the bed and walked out of the bedroom.
"Take Sumo with you."
Calling out through the doorway Cole caught the dog's attention. "Sumo!"
The massive dog plopped down from the bed and trotted after the small boy and followed him down the stairs and back to the livingroom.
Hank closed and locked the bedroom door to ensure that Cole wouldn't be tempted to peek inside as he and Joel set about tending to Connor's numerous wounds. "I trust you, Joel. How bad is he?"
"We're about to find out." The kind technician stated as he opened his technician's satchel on the floor to sort through his equipment. "You're more familiar with his injuries, so can you move him so he's laying on his back without hurting him in the process?"
"Yeah, I can do that."
Connor was still laying on his right side on the bed and barely moving.
Kneeling down on the edge of the bed Hank lightly put his hand on Connor's shoulder and shook him once as he called his name. "Connor?"
The deviant didn't respond. His damaged eyes were open and staring into nothingness, unblinking.
"Connor?"
Hank rolled Connor gently from his side and onto his back while lightly patting Connor's undamaged left cheek. The deviant was barely breathing. Getting worried that Connor wasn't responding and seemingly shutdown Hank pressed his ear to Connor's chest over top of the hoodie and listened intently. Connor's Thirium pump, his heart, was still beating.
"...Don't scare me like that." Hank muttered as he grabbed onto collar of the hoodie and began to slowly pull it up and over the deviant's head. Repeating the action for the black t-shirt beneath that Hank exposed Connor's chest. Once the damage to Connor's face, neck, chest and arm were visible Hank backed away from the bed and sighed sympathetically with Connor's plight. "His right shin is a little fucked up, too."
"Holy shit." Joel swore as he visually assessed the damaged deviant. "You didn't tell me it was this bad."
"I'm not a technician, Joel. I don't know what to do for him."
"For starters you should've taken him to a facility."
"He didn't want to go." The explanation almost felt childish but at least it was honest. "He feels ashamed because of what happened to him."
"Why? Who cares how he got hurt?" Joel placed the earbuds of his audioscope into place then pressed the cool metal bell of the instrument to Connor's chest to listen to his heartbeat and his near total lack of breathing. The contact of the cold metal made Connor jump a little and his eyes slowly blinked. "Weak, irregular heartbeat. His ventilation biocomponents are heavily congested as well."
"What about his stomach?" Hank was still righteously worried about the internal bleeding. "He's been bleeding for I don't know how long."
Draping the audioscope around his neck Joel very lightly pressed his hands along Connor's chest and abdomen, toward his slightly distended stomach, and noted the deviant's discomfort as soon as pressure was applied to his abdomen. "He's lost a lot of blood. The leak is slow, which is good, but the fact that it hasn't stopped yet is bad."
"Can you fix it?"
"...Yeah, but, you're not going to like how I'm going to do it."
"I think I'd like Connor dying even less than whatever it is you're going to do. How can I help?"
"I need to get a monitor attached to him, and I'm going to need to find his current base vital signs. It'll take a few hours to repair the damage but I know I can help him."
"Do what you have to do, Joel."
"Right." Motioning for Hank's assistance Joel placed a portable android cardiac monitor down on the nightstand beside Connor's bed. The display was blank but would soon enough show Connor's vital signs in bright, neon digits. "I'm going to take his vitals, I need you to get his damaged shin exposed so I can treat it."
"Sure. Sweatpants are easier to roll up than jeans." Hank muttered as he proceeded to roll up Connor's right pant leg to just above his knee. As his hands brushed against the wound Connor groaned a little in pain but remained otherwise unresponsive. "Is he conscious?"
"In a sense." Connecting the wireless lead sensors to Connor's chest where there wasn't any damage Joel turned on the monitor and noted the deviant's slow, erratic heart rate, low Thirium pressure and volume, and his lower core temperature. "Connor's in low-power mode right now. He's aware of what's happening around him and what's being said, but he's too weak to respond."
Hank put his hand down on Connor's left forearm and held it there for a moment. "Connor, you're going to be okay, son. We'll get you patched up."
"First thing's first." Sighing a little Joel pressed a small, rectangular electronic device to Connor's right temple and activated full stasis mode. Connor's damaged eyes slowly disappeared behind his heavy eyelids as the deviant fell asleep. "This is going to be unpleasant for all of us." Removing the device he then pressed his forefingers against Connor's temple and held his hand there for a few seconds until Connor's artificial skin completely deactivated. "I'm going to start a Thirium line in his left arm to get his volume back up."
As Connor's artificial skin receded a blue puddle of Thirium escaped from the deviant's now expsoed abdomen and pooled all over the bed spread beneath him.
"Shit!" Hank grabbed a towel and gently began mopping up the blood as carefully as possible. "Good thing that shit evaporates!"
"Don't worry, that's actually less blood than I was fearing." Joel connected a line from the large plastic bottle of Thirium and removed the panel of Connor's left forearm near the bend of his elbow to access the large Thirium line beneath. Attaching the the line from the replacement Thirium to Connor's line Joel turned the bottle upside down to let gravity do the work. "I think I can get his volume back up to one-hundred percent with three and a half units of Thirium."
"I thought it was better if androids drank Thirium instead using a line. What gives?"
"At the rate he's still bleeding I don't want his Thirium filtering cycling too much until I've been able to properly repair the damaged biocomponent. Afterward I'll insert a tube down his throat and into his artificial stomach to top off his reserves."
"...And his internal bleeding?"
"All I need to do is repair the biocomponent and his external plastimetal frame will heal on its own."
"Joel, you saw his skin." Hank grimaced as he looked at how fragile Connor looked without any of his skin over any piece of his body. Even his thick, semi-curly hair was gone which only made Connor look entirely blank. "What can you do about that? He can't go walking around without skin."
"I suspect the sensors producing the artificial skin were damaged by whatever instrument was used to remove the skin, but it can still be repaired. I'll apply some decontaminating chrism and regenerative increment to where his skin has been damaged, and then keep the affected areas concealed under bandages until his self-healing program reactivates."
"Okay. I didn't understand any of that." Sighing with concern he just stared at Connor's blank form with a righteous paternal need to help his adopted son recover. "How long is this going to take?"
"I won't know for sure until I open him up. Try not to worry, Hank." Joel tried to sound reassuring but he was evidently nervous. "I didn't tell anyone about this and once I return to the precinct I'll report on his injuries as professional and discreetly as possible."
"Will you need a statement from him before writing your report?"
"...No. I can take a visual and auditory recording of his memory. Connor won't have to talk to anyone, or face that Zlatko freak in court."
"I can't believe that dumbass didn't run." Crossing his arms over his chest Hank looked at his adopted son sympathetically and sat down on the edge of the bed beside Connor's legs. "Then again, the arrogant never do. They think their above the law until the law comes crashing down on them."
Obedient but bored Cole sat on the couch with Sumo wrapped up under the navy blue blanket, and anxiously waited for some news on Connor. It had been almost three hours and the little boy hadn't heard a word from his dad from upstairs. Coughing a little Cole stared at his prosthetic arm and pressed the small activation button on his elbow the make his artificial skin regenerate and then recede rhythmically to distract himself as he thought about how beaten up and sad Connor was.
The sound of the bedroom opening made Cole turn his head and look over his shoulder and soon enough he spotted Joel and Hank walking down the staircase slowly. Joel had a majority of his equipment packed up, but a few pieces were going to stay behind to help Connor during his recovery.
"Connor will be okay in about two days." Joel stated in a low voice as he rubbed his hand along the back of his sore neck as he heard Hank following him down the staircase. "Let him sleep and keep his wounds covered until he's one-hundred percent."
"And his eyes?" Hank asked as he met Joel at the bottom of the stairs and crossed his arms over his chest.
"I repaired his optical units, but like the rest of his body his eyes will need time to properly heal."
"Good. That's good... Thanks for all your help, Joel. I mean it."
"It's no problem, Hank." Offering the senior detective his hand Joel shook firmly and nodded at Cole. "I left some extra Thirium, but if you need anything else just call me."
"I hope it won't come to that." Hank handed Joel a few dollars from his wallet and shrugged his shoulders a little. "The least I can do is pay your cab fare."
"Thanks, I appreciate it. I'll check in on Connor in two days, and until then let him rest." Closing the door behind himself Joel pulled his phone from his pocket and texted for an autonomous taxi to pick him up.
With one son taken care of Hank turned his attention to the second son who had been patiently waiting for an update. "Cole, how're you feeling?" Hank asked as he walked over to the couch and did another fever check with his palm against the little boy's forehead. "No fever, so that's good."
"I'm bored."
"Sorry, Cole. You're too sick to play outside, and Connor's too sick to play inside."
"Can I see Connor?"
"Not yet, son. He's sleeping right now."
"When will he wake up?"
"Not for a while. He's really hurt and he's a little sick again." Hank explained casually as he leaned against the back of the couch and folded his hands together to keep himself from fidgeting. "Once he's better you two can hang out and do your normal thing again."
"Okay."
"Hungry?"
"A little."
"Good. Come on." Running his hand through Cole's hair playfully Hank motioned to the kitchen. "I'll make you some lunch and then we can watch a movie."
"Aren't you going to work?" Cole asked as he got off the couch and kept the blanket wrapped around himself as he followed after his dad into the kitchen.
"Not today. I have two sick kids to take care of, and there's no way I'd leave either of you home alone."
While Cole was sitting in the kitchen eating a light lunch Hank crept up the staircase and returned to Connor's bedroom. Pushing open the door quietly Hank stepped inside the room, closed the door behind himself, and stood beside the bed where Connor was still sleeping. The portable monitor was still on the nightstand beside the bed and showed Connor's improved, but still low, vital signs. Seeing the actively beating heart rate on the display made Hank feel a little better, but the sight of Connor almost mummified under bandages and gauze made him feel sick.
Connor himself had bandages wrapped all over his body. A temporary plastimetal splint was secured around Connor's right shin where more gauze kept the repaired limb sterilized as his self-healing program initiated. A blindfold made of gauze was wrapped over his still healing eyes to keep as much light out of the optical sensors as they recalibrated, while bandages protected the exposed right side of his face. Gauze was wrapped around Connor's neck, chest and shoulders, partially down his chest and back, around his abdomen and completely around his right arm from the shoulder all the way down to his fingertips to protect the exposed plastimetal frame where his artificial skin had been forcefully removed. The surrounding areas had the rest of the artificial skin reactivated making Connor look entirely human, but wounded.
A flexible plastic tube had been inserted through Connor's left nostril down his throat and down to his stomach as another bottle of chilled Thirium replenished the rest of his reserves without accidentally choking him in the process. Steadily Connor's chest rose and fell, an action that the deviant had previously been too weak to perform, and he seemed to be sleeping peacefully.
"Hey, son." Hank spoke in a low, calm voice as to not startle Connor but made sure he could be heard. "You look a hell of a lot better than you did this morning." Instinctively he pressed his palm down over Connor's forehead between the bandages and hummed a little. "You feel warm but I'll chalk that up to your system working overdrive to heal since you were a little cold earlier."
Connor's left hand twitched a little as he head lolled slightly against the pillow beneath his head.
"Easy. You keep resting and don't try to talk right now." The urgency of Hank's voice came from a paternal instinct to keep his son safe. "Just so you know that Zlatko freak was captured. He didn't try to run or even hide the evidence. He tried to justify that what he did was only malicious destruction of private property and theft, not murder. Too bad for him the judge overseeing the case was a good friend to Carl Manfred, and the judge knows that deviants are living beings. He's going to rot in a small, cramped jail cell until he died, and then burn in Hell after that."
Connor's hand twitched again then relaxed.
"I'm going to be downstairs with Cole for a while. I'll be up to check on you in an hour or so." Patting Connor's left shoulder Hank took his leave of the bedroom again. "Sleep for as long as you can. Once you're strong enough to move we'll go spend a weekend at the cabin before it gets too cold and snowy to go anywhere outside the city."
Departing the room just as quietly as he had entered Hank left Connor to rest and felt himself feeling entirely exhausted. As he reached the bottom of the staircase he noticed Cole curled up on the far end of the couch with Sumo and was struggling to stay awake. Joining Cole on the couch Hank propped his feet up on the coffee table and leaned back heavily against the couch cushion behind him.
"You look as tired as I feel, Cole."
"I'm not tired."
"Sure you are. Just close your eyes and sleep for a while." Hank encouraged as he patted Cole's shoulder. "We're all tired and we're all a little under the weather. You sleep, I'll sleep and Connor's sleeping. I bet even Sumo will sleep soon."
"Dad, when will Connor be better?"
"In a couple days. Same with you, since you're sick and need to take that medicine until you're better."
"Why did he get hurt?"
"Uh..." Hank wanted to be an honest parent but sometimes there were days where he wanted to just lie to Cole about how dark and cruel the world can be. The world is especially cruel to those who are misunderstood and different. "Well, Connor was trying to find a person who was hurting other deviants. And he ended up getting hurt by that same person while trying to come home from work."
"But Connor got away."
"That's right. Connor escaped with the help of another deviant who had also been hurt. And Connor was hurt so badly and confused that he ended up hiding in that alleyway while trying to find his way home. If you hadn't spotted him he might still be there, sick and hurt. You did good by finding him, but never jump out of the car again. Got it?"
"Yup." He replied with a cheeky smile. "He's going to be okay though. Right?"
"Yeah, son. Connor's going to be just fine in a few days."
"That's good." Laying his head down on the pillow Cole closed his eyes and began to drift off to sleep. "I like Connor."
Relieved to see Cole resting Hank closed his eyes and did the same. It was a rare moment of peace and the experienced detective knew better than to let such a rare moment pass by unappreciated.
The whole house was asleep for almost six hours before Hank woke up to the sound of Sumo scratching at the backdoor. Getting up from the couch as quietly as possible to not disturb Cole, who was still asleep and needed to sleep thanks to his bronchitis, Hank walked into the kitchen and opened the backdoor to let Sumo outside for a while. Stretching out his back a little Hank pulled his phone, saw a dozen missed calls from Captain Fowler, shrugged them off, and proceeded to walk up the staircase to check on Connor.
As he opened the bedroom door he caught sight of Connor's left hand pulling on the tube that was inserted down his nostril and could see the deviant beginning to panic a little.
"Connor, don't do that." Hank rushed over to the bed and put his hand on Connor's arm. "Leave it there until Joel comes back in a couple days."
"...H-Ha..." Connor's voice cracked a little as his grip lessened on the tube and he began to relax. Recognizing the voice and the soft bed under his body Connor realized he was safe and home. "...Dad?"
"Yeah, it's me. I'm right here."
"...I can't see."
"Your eyes were repaired but they still need to heal."
"And my hand?" Lifting up his bandaged right hand weakly Connor's individually bandaged fingers wrapped flexed a little then fell limp. "I can move it, but I can't feel it."
"Joel put some healing shit on your arm and everywhere else your skin was damaged. He said your sensors were damaged which is why your skin isn't functioning right now, so he wrapped up your frame to keep it clean until you heal."
Connor nodded a little as he draped his arm over his abdomen and didn't wince from the contact since his internal bleeding had been tended to. "How is Cole?"
"He's fine." The selfless question made Hank smirk a little. "He's worried about you, though."
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to worry either of you."
"We know that. We're both just glad you're okay."
"I heard what you said about Zlatko." The wounded deviant replied in a tired whisper. "How many deviants did he assault?"
"At the last count we directly connected seventy-three deviant disappearances to him. We'll tag on the abduction, assault and attempted murder of both Kara and Alice to his already massive list of charges while we're at it. Not to mention the abduction, assault and attempted murder of a police officer." Hank explained calmly as he looked down at his healing son with a truly sympathetic glance. "There's been fifty-six confirmed deaths at his hands, too."
"...Did you find Charles?"
"The blond haired deviant just down the sidewalk from that Hellhole?"
"...Yes."
"Yeah, son. He'll be given a proper funeral with his friends and family."
"I want to pay my respects as well." There was no hesitation in his reply and the spike of his heart rate on the monitor confirmed his need to do the right thing for the deviant who saved him. "He helped me escape, but his injuries were too severe. I couldn't do anything to help him."
"It's okay, Connor. You didn't do anything wrong."
Connor took his left arm from Hank's grip and pressed his palm over the bandages wrapped around his eyes as he felt himself beginning to cry.
"Connor, it's okay."
"...Sorry."
"Don't be sorry, just take it easy and sleep."
"I don't want to be alone."
"Alright, I understand that." Hank sat down on the edge of the bed beside Connor's legs and kept his adopted son company. As a father he knew that sometimes just close contact was enough to help a frightened child feel safer. "Do you want to talk about what happened to you?"
"...No."
"Okay, you don't have to. But you will need to speak to someone about this so it doesn't affect you in the long run. Got it?"
"...Yeah. I got it."
"That's good."
"Is Cole still ill?"
"He isn't feverish anymore but I can still hear him coughing every so often. He'll be fine now that he has a prescription."
"I promised him that I'd help him with his homework."
"Connor, he's going to be home from school for a week. You'll have plenty of time to help him catch up on his homework when you're both better."
"How long are you going to be here with Cole?"
"Just as long. Unless you'd be up for keeping Cole company after you're well enough to get up again."
"I wouldn't mind staying with him."
Hank smirked and patted Connor's good shoulder again. "Not surprised. Get some sleep and I'll stay here with you for a while."
"Thank you... dad."
"You're welcome, son. Now rest. You're safe now."
Downstairs still laying on the couch Cole woke up thanks to a coughing fit and kept coughing until he almost fell off the couch. As he sat up Sumo whimpered and pressed his head up against the little boy's chest sympathetically. It wasn't long after the coughing fit started that Hank had made his way down the stairs to check in on youngest son, who was still evidently very sick. As he pressed his hand to Cole's forehead Hank internally swore and leaned over the back of the couch to pick up the ten year old into his arms.
"You have a fever again. You should take a bath and go to bed."
Cole stopped coughing and just sat down on the edge of the bathtub after Hank carried him into the bathroom. "My head hurts."
"It's okay. I'll get you something for your fever and it'll help take care of your headache."
"Do I have to take the medicine?"
"Yes. If you don't you'll stay sick."
Turning on the faucet in the tub Hank adjusted the temperature so it was warm but not hot, then left the bathroom to get Cole's medication out of the kitchen.
Feeling tired Cole just sat on the bathtub and waited for his dad to return. Sumo joined him in the bathroom and sat down before the ill little boy protectively as was he instinct role in the family.
"I know you hate taking medicine," Hank sympathized as he knelt down on the floor and handed Cole a dose of the liquid antibiotics he been prescribed. "but you have to do it. After your bath I'll get you an ice pop, okay?"
Cole took the medicine, made a horribly disgusted grimace and agreed to the idea of a popsicle. "Cherry?"
"Cherry."
"Okay."
"I need to go check on Connor, so I want you to get in the tub and keep the door open for me." Turning off the water at a slightly lower level than usual for the tub Hank gave the young, but surprisingly mature boy clear instructions. "Don't get out of the tub until I come to check on you."
"Okay, dad."
"Good. Keep an eye on him, Sumo."
The massive dog wagged his tail before plopping down on the floor in the middle of the bathroom and watched as Cole took off his clothes to get in the warm bath. It seemed like the only person in the house who wasn't exhausted for one reason or another was Sumo himself.
Hank wandered back up the stairs and returned to Connor's bedroom. "Hey, kid."
"...How's Cole?"
"His fever's back so I'm putting him in the bath before putting him into bed." Instinctively Hank pressed his hand to Connor's forehead and immediately became alarmed. "Damn it, you have a fever, too."
"...Overheating."
"Uh-huh, same thing. How high is your- Never mind." Peering at the cardiac monitor still attached to Connor's chest and saw that his core temperature had risen up to one-hundred and two point three degrees. "Shit. I'm getting you compress."
"I will be okay."
"Nope." Hank wasn't going to let Connor talk his way out basic treatment for a fever and proceeded to walk to the upstairs bathroom just one door away and ran a clean washcloth under the cold tap in the sink and wring out the excess water. Folding the washcloth neatly in half Hank returned to Connor and placed the compress down over the deviant's too warm forehead. "You need this."
"...Cole is sicker than I am."
"It's not a contest, son. I'm going to take care of both of you for as long as you need me."
Connor tried to remove the bandages from around his eyes but Hank wouldn't let him.
"Keep that in place. What's the matter?"
"I just... I can't see anything or feel anything. It's very disorienting."
"You're home, you're in your bedroom, you're in your own bed and I'm right here beside you." Pressing his palm down over the compress Hank sighed and stared at Connor's bandaged body with a somber stare, one that he was thankful Connor couldn't see. "I'm going to go get Cole and bring him upstairs. I'll be able to take care of both of you easier that way."
"Okay. I understand."
"Good. Stay put."
Feeling exhausted and ready to go to bed himself Hank returned to the downstairs bathroom and helped Cole out of the bathtub. Guiding the little boy upstairs to his own bedroom Hank gave Cole a clean pair of pajamas for him to change into, then placed him down in his bed under the thick quilt.
"I'll be back with your cherry ice pop." Hank stated as he made one final trip to the kitchen to get everything he needed to take care of youngest son. Being a father was exhausting but Hank was grateful for everyday he had with Cole and now Connor. As he grabbed onto the cherry ice pop he looked at the bright blue raspberry one next to it and laughed. "I should try freezing Thirium onto a popsicle stick for Connor someday."
Cole coughed again as Hank returned and gave him the frozen treat. Accepting the popsicle Cole popped it into his mouth and laid back against his pillow as being sick completely drained him of his energy.
"I'll get you a cold washcloth, too."
"Dad?"
"Yeah?" Hank stopped in the doorway to look back at Cole. "What's wrong?"
"Can we go to the park tomorrow?"
"Sorry, son. You need to get better before you can play outside again." After getting another washcloth ready for Cole's fever Hank returned to the bedroom, placed the washcloth over Cole's forehead and pulled the quilt up over his chest. "I already told Connor once you're both better we'll take one last trip out to the cabin before it's too cold. Would you like that?"
"Yup. It's fun out there."
Hank smirked and took the red stained popsicle stick from Cole's hand to throw in the trash. "Good. Get some sleep and if you're feeling better in the morning I'll make you french toast again."
Cole liked that idea and curled up under his quilt to go to sleep.
"Goodnight, son." Giving Cole a kiss on his hair Hank pulled the door halfway shut as he left the bedroom then proceeded to check in on Connor once more. It was the first time Hank had two sick kids to worry about, bu the was up to the challenge and succeeding fairly well. "How are you doing?"
"I'm tired but I'm not in pain."
"That's good. I'm going to stay up a while longer and check in on you two for a few more hours. If you need anything just ask."
"I'm okay, Hank." Connor promised as he turned his head to face Hank, judging where the senior detective was standing by the sound of his voice. "Worry about Cole, I'll enter rest mode and my self-healing program will initiate at full power."
"Alright, son. Take it easy and try not to think about anything."
"I'll try."
Just as he did with Cole's room Hank exited the bedroom and pulled the door only halfway shut behind him as he went downstairs to clean up the livingroom, kitchen and bathroom. As he worked Sumo followed him from room to room curiously and kept him company while also waiting patiently to be fed. Once the house was quiet and clean, and Sumo was fed, Hank returned to the couch to relax for a moment and get a little sleep.
"I don't what's worse. A ten year old with bronchitis or a deviant literally broken up and left helpless..."
A few hours passed with peaceful silence in the calm house. Hank had fallen into a deep sleep on the couch well until almost midnight when the sound of a muffled cry for help jolted Hank awake. Instantly he recognized Connor's voice, a voice that was hoarse and stricken with panic, and quickly raced up the stairs to see what was happening. Entering the deviant's bedroom he saw Connor was tossing and turning in his sleep, his arms up as if needing to defend himself from an unseen foe, and realized that the sick deviant was suffering from an intense nightmare.
"Connor?" Sitting down on the edge of the bed Hank grabbed onto Connor's upper arms to hold him down gently and called his name. "Connor!" He had to raise his voice to get Connor's attention. "You're okay!"
"Stay back!" Connor shouted in a petrified manner. "Don't hurt-"
"Connor." Repeated the name in a clear firm voice Hank seemed to break through the nightmare. "Connor, you're safe. No one is going to hurt you."
The deviant stopped fighting against his unseen foe as he suddenly sat upright on the bed. Tense and shaking Connor bowed his head forward as he tried to stop himself from shedding fearful tears down his face. "...Hank?"
"That's right. I'm here and you're safe."
"I... I'm sorry!"
"Sorry? For what?"
"...I... I was... I was afraid and-"
"Shh. Don't be sorry for being scared, son. It happens to everyone."
"I don't want to be scared..." Connor admitted as he trembled where he sat and pressed a hand to the side of his face. "I can't protect my family if-"
The deviant was silenced as he was suddenly wrapped up in Hank's arms in a protective hug. "It's okay. You're okay, Connor." Hank pressed his hand to Connor's forehead and felt that his fever had increased to much higher temperature before pressing his hand to the back of Connor's head to pull the deviant up against his shoulder. "Shit, you're burning up..."
As Connor rested his head against Hank's shoulder he could hear his adoptive father's steadily beating heart which made his own racing heart steadily calm as his fear ebbed away. Relaxing a little the deviant stopped shaking as he stayed in place with Hank holding onto him in a comforting hug. "...I don't want to be afraid."
"Dad?" Cole wandered into the bedroom with a tired and confused stare. "What's happening?"
"It's okay, Cole." Hank spoke up in a even voice as he continued to hold onto Connor in a support embrace. "Go back to bed."
"What's wrong with Connor?"
"He had a nightmare, that's all. Go to bed, I'll take care of him."
Cole looked at the deviant with a sad glance before listening to Hank and returning to his bedroom.
"Connor?" Hank addressed him quietly. "You're running very hot. What do I do to help you?"
"I... I just need... to rest."
Hank nodded as he guided Connor back down to the bed and the soft pillow beneath his head. Picking up the now warm compress from the side of the bed the incredibly patient detective and father made his way down to the kitchen to place the washcloth under the cold tap in the sink while also grabbing two ice packs to held Connor cool down.
Alone in the bedroom Connor pressed his hand to the side of his face over the bandages and ran a self-diagnostic. He was indeed healing but his core temperature had risen considerably as a result. Exhausted and feeling absolutely terrible Connor heard Hank's footsteps as he climbed the staircase to walk back into the bedroom.
"The cardiac monitor says you're up to one-hundred and three point eight. Is that accurate?"
"...Yes." Connor admitted as he laid still and only flinched slightly when the cold washcloth wrapped around an ice pack was laid over his forehead. "...That'll help. My self-healing program is running at full capacity and as a result my core temperature has been elevated."
"Are you in danger?"
"...No. As long as I rest I'll be okay."
"That's good." Hank put his hand down over the center of Connor's bandaged chest to count his pulse and glanced at the monitor again. "Your heart rate is elevated, too. That also from your self-healing program?"
"...Yes, they are connected."
"Good to know. Try to get some sleep, okay?"
"...Yes. Thank you... dad."
Hank patted Connor's chest before getting up from the edge of the bed. "You're welcome. I'll check on you later, right now I need to make sure Cole got back into bed." As he crossed the hallway he spotted Cole in bed as he was asked to do and had Sumo curled up on the foot of the bed near his feet. "Hey?" Repeating his previous motion of sitting down on the edge of Cole's bed Hank checked on his fever and was relieved to find that it was gone. "How's your headache?"
"Better."
"That's good. Try to get some more sleep, it's late."
"Why did Connor scream?"
"Like I said, he had a nightmare and it scared him."
"I didn't know deviants had nightmares."
"Sure they do. They have dreams and nightmares like any other human, it's just Connor tends to have really bad nightmares because unlike humans his memories are perfect. He'll remember everything he's ever seen or heard throughout his entire life."
"Even the bad things?"
Sighing a little Hank ran his hand through Cole's hair gently. "Yeah, son. Even the bad things. That's why you and me gave Connor a family, that way he has lots of good things to remember, too."
Cole nodded a little and pulled his quilt up over his shoulder. "Like going to the cabin?"
"Yup. Just like that." Giving Cole another kiss on his hair Hank stood up and walked over to the doorway. "Goodnight, son. I'll see you in the morning."
"Goodnight, dad."
Absolutely exhausted and eager for this horrible chain of events to end Hank retreated to his own bedroom, kept the door open and fell back over his bed in a dead heap. Not even bothering to change out of his clothes Hank just waited for the morning to come as he slept as deeply as possible to shrug off one of the worst days of his life.
Two sick kids: One with bronchitis, and the nearly beaten to death.
"I miss you everyday, Barb." Hank whispered to his long deceased wife as he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep. "But right now I miss you now more than ever. Cole needs his mom, Connor needs to know it's like to have a mother, and I need my best friend back. Love you, babe."
Just past seven in the morning Hank was awoken by a cold, wet nose pressing against the side of his face. Opening his eyes he was greeted by Sumo as the massive dog wagged his tail and stared at him.
"Hey, boy." Sitting up on the bed Hank wiped his hand over his tired face and sighed. "You need me, too?"
Sumo grumbled a little in response.
"Alright. I'll let you out and get you some chow."
Getting up from his bed Hank walked down the hallway and peered inside Cole's room and saw the little boy still sleeping, then did the same for Connor. The deviant was seemingly asleep as well.
"Good. Stay quiet for a while longer." He whispered before walking down the stairs with Sumo right at his side. As he slid open the backdoor Sumo trotted into the backyard and Hank proceeded to fill up Sumo's bowls with fresh food and water. "Might as well start making Cole his french toast..."
Connor roused from his rest mode as he sensed Hank moving about the house and could smell the aroma of a freshly made breakfast down in the kitchen. Sitting upright on his bed Connor pressed his hand to face, his bandaged palm meeting a bandaged cheek, and ran another self-diagnostic. While a majority of his internal damage had been repaired much of his external damage still needed time to heal. As much as he wanted to pull the Thirium line from his artificial stomach he knew he couldn't do that. Not yet.
"Connor?" Cole's voice called out to the deviant from the doorway.
"Cole. You should be resting."
"I'm not tired." Walking over to the bed the little boy climbed up on the edge of the bed to sit next to Connor. "Are you still sick?"
"...In a way, I am. I'm just healing slowly."
"Does it hurt?"
"No."
"How long are you going to be hurt?"
"...I don't know. I've never been hurt like this before."
"Can I help?"
For the first time since he woke up on the couch after altering the timeline for the better Connor felt a warmth spreading in his chest that he had begun to attribute to 'belonging'. Turning his head a little so he could face Cole, judging the boy's location from the sound of his voice and the weight on the bed beside him, Connor gave Cole a faint grin. "I wish you could, but this is something that'll happen on its own."
"Okay. Are you going to come downstairs?"
"...I don't think it's a good idea for me to move around, let alone walk down the stairs while I cannot see."
"I can guide you."
"Thank you, but I don't want to trip or accidentally knock you over while walking."
From the doorway Hank agreed with Connor as he came upstairs to get Cole. "He's right, Cole. Maybe tomorrow he'll be able to move around."
"Okay..."
"Come on," Hank put his hand on Cole's shoulder to guide him off the bed. "I made you french toast, and you need to take your medicine."
"Again?"
"Sorry, son. You have to take it until you're well again."
"...Fine."
Connor smirked a little as Cole walked out of the bedroom with Hank follow close behind him.
"Do you need anything before I go, Connor?"
"No, Ha-... Dad. I'm okay."
"What about Thirium?"
Checking his Thirium volume the deviant noticed his reserve dropped down to eighty-percent during the night. "I could use some Thirium to replenish what my system used to activate my self-healing program."
"No problem. I'll be back in a couple of minutes."
While Cole sat at the kitchen table with a plate of french toast Hank got the little boy his dose of medication before grabbing a bottle of Thirium for Connor. Unsurprisingly when he returned to the deviant's bedroom he found Connor slowly working to unwrap the bandages from around his eyes, but the bandages around his hand was making the effort much more difficult than it would normally be.
"Hey, what're you doing?"
"...My eyes have healed considerably. I wish to test my optical units."
"Shouldn't you wait until you've healed to one-hundred percent?"
"I won't push my limits."
"If you're going to do that," Hank put the bottle of Thirium down on the nearby nightstand and pushed Connor's hands down from the bandages. "then let me help. Hold still."
Connor dropped his hands from his bandages and allowed Hank to remove the gauze wrapping from around his eyes. As the wrapping was removed from around his eyes Connor pressed his fingertips to his healing eyes and found that his artificial skin had slowly begun to regenerate, but his face wasn't fully covered just yet.
"Alright, the light is off so I don't think the bright light will bother you."
"My optical units adjust to intense light much quicker than human pupils." Connor reminded Hank as he shielded his eyes with his hand cautiously and opened his eyelids very slowly. Lowering his hand from his eyes Connor blinked a few times as Hank's face came into full, clear view. "...I can see."
"Thank fuck." Hank remarked as he waded up the gauze and tossed it into the trashcan in the bathroom one room over. "Any other problems I should know about?"
"No. I'm okay." Connor shook his head a little as he picked up the bottle of Thirium and drank it slowly. The line running down his throat was uncomfortable but it wasn't hindering his ability to speak, breath or drink. "Thank you for helping me."
"Stop thanking me for do the right thing." Hank returned to the bedroom and playfully slapped Connor's shoulder. "I'm just glad you're back."
"...You said that Zlatko was arrested and being charged for numerous counts of assault and murder. How long will it take for the case to be processed?"
"Wish I knew, kid. But I don't want you back at the precinct for another few days."
"...I understand. I'm not exactly eager to return to the precinct."
"Jeez, that asshole really shook you up."
"I've never felt so defenseless in my entire life." Connor admitted as he blinked a few more times, his soulful brown irises now clear and bright without a trace of damage to delicately calibrated optical units. "I think the experience is what you'd call 'humbling'."
"Humbling or not, what that asshole did to you is inexcusable and he'll burn for it."
Connor sighed a little and attempted to swing his legs over the edge of the bed to stand up, but his body was too weak and he didn't have the strength to move very far.
"Whoa, whoa..." Hank put his hands on Connor's shoulders to steady him and guide him back against his pillow. "Lay down and keep resting. Now that you can see again I'll bring you some books to read so you don't get bored. Okay?"
"...I'd like that."
"Good. I get the feeling Cole's going to be back up here in a minute or two so he can hang out, and I know he'll want to work on his science fair project."
"I'd like that, too." Connor was feeling more at ease and comfortable. "It's something constructive and distracting."
"Yeah, yeah. You just want him to get to an 'A' so he gets that special prize that I promised him."
"Is that wrong?" A pale blush blush formed over his face. "I mean, I'm happy to help Cole get good grades, but-"
"No, Connor, it's fine. That's just what kids do."
"...But I'm not a kid."
"Connor, trust me on this." Giving the deviant a slight tilt of the head Hank confirmed that Connor was in fact a kid. "You may be the most advanced prototype that CyberLife created, and you look like a twenty-something year old detective, but you're far from being an adult."
"...Is that a bad thing?"
"Nope." The senior detective confirmed with a sincere smirk. "It's just a weird thing."
"And is being weird a bad thing?"
"Never. Normalcy is overrated."
...next chapter...
