A solid week with no nightmares had proven beneficial to Connor's mind and body. Sleeping well through the night and waking up rested had done wonders for the younger detective's stress, and he was having no difficulty in getting back into his routine at the precinct. The bullpen was rather empty as numerous officers had called in sick with the latest bug sweeping through the city, which made it quiet and boring. As he worked at his own desk he noticed Hank rubbing his hand over his throat as if he had some discomfort and discreetly asked him about it.
"Hank, is there something wrong with your throat?"
"Just a little dry." Hank cleared his throat a little to ease the raspiness from his voice. "It's fine."
Connor noticed the empty mug of coffee on Hank's side of the desk and inquired about it curiously. "Want some more coffee or water?"
"Nah, it's fine."
"If your throat is dry then getting something to drink will help."
"I'm okay, kid."
Knowing better than that Connor stubbornly went into the breakroom and made two cups of warm peppermint tea, that particular flavor brought into the breakroom courtesy of Tina, and returned to his desk. As he sipped at one of the cups himself Connor slid the other toward Hank to try to coax him to drink.
"Tea?"
"Yes."
"I don't drink tea."
"Have you tried it?"
"Kid, I don't-"
"If you won't let me drink coffee the least you can do is try drinking tea to ease your dry throat."
"Seriously?"
"Yes." Connor confirmed as he put aside his cup and watched Hank carefully. "Please try it."
Hank looked at the steaming cup and picked it up as if afraid it was actually poison. Trying a very small amount Hank's hand went back to his throat and he outwardly grimaced. "...Ow."
"Your throat is hurting you, isn't it?"
"Only a little."
"Chris is sick with strep throat right now, Tina has a mild cold, and Gavin has shown faint signs of a cold as well."
"Connor, I'm not sick."
Reaching a hand over to Hank's side of the desk Connor quickly took Hank's pulse through the wrist and felt the unusual amount of heat radiating from the senior detective's skin. "You have a mild elevation in your heart rate and are running a mild fever."
"I'm fine, kid."
"Do you have any white spots forming in your throat?"
"I don't know."
"Let me see."
"Connor, you're a detective when you're on the clock." Hank reminded the younger man as he took back his arm and leaned back in his chair. "You can be a paramedic when you're off company time."
"Fair enough. But if you do have strep throat you'll need to stay home and there's a strong possibility that you'll need to be prescribed antibiotics."
"Yeah, yeah. If I'm actually sick then I'll go see a doctor. Alright?"
"Alright."
"Now let me finish this report in peace and we can finally go home."
"You'll be appreciative of the overtime when you're next paycheck clears."
"Keep reminding me of that, it'll make this boring shift a lot more bearable."
Once home for the night Connor asked Hank to cooperate with him and relent to a quick examination of his throat. Sitting at the kitchen table Hank patiently let Connor use a small penlight to examine the back of his sore throat waited for the diagnosis without making a single complain. Connor gave Hank a somewhat despondent look at he noted the small red and white spots in the back of Hank's throat, as well as the slightly swollen tonsils.
"If I'm right you have strep throat and will need to see a doctor." Connor confirmed as he moved his hands to the sides of Hank's throat to check his lymph nodes. As he fingertips pressed against the sides of Hank's neck the senior detective flinched and Connor could feel that the lymph nodes were in fact partially swollen. "Hank. You're sick."
"Come on, kid. It's fine."
"Hank, if you have strep throat then it needs to be taken care of. It could degrade into something more serious like Scarlet fever, or you could develop severe complications to your kidneys and heart."
"Connor, I'm-"
"How many times I had been injured or ill and refused to let you take me to see a technician?"
"...Are you trying to use your own stubbornness to justify taking me to a hospital?"
"It's either you go willingly, or I report your illness to the precinct and request an ambulance to take you to the hospital instead."
Hank smirked a little as he rubbed his fingertips over his sore throat again. "You don't bluff, either."
"I do not."
"...Alright, kid. You win." Before Connor left the kitchen table Hank held up a scolding finger and cleared his throat a little. "But remember, when YOU are the one who gets sick I get to drag your sorry ass to the hospital no matter how much you try to deny being ill. AND," Hank made sure to keep tagging on small conditions to make it feel as though he had somehow 'won' in the end. "since you have that susceptibility to the cold and other infections from being a 'preemie' that means you can't even try to argue with me. Deal?"
Connor gave Hank a studious glance before finally offering a rebuttal. "...What if I agree to a 'house call' from a doctor, instead?"
"Then that's what I get. Fair is fair."
"...Fine." The younger detective was willing to agree if that meant Hank would go see a doctor. "If I get sick I'll go to the hospital without a fight."
"Damn right you will."
Grinning a little Connor rose from the table and pulled his phone from his pocket. "I'll inform the hospital that you're coming in. You should change into something more comfortable since we might be there for a while."
As much as Hank hated being the patient in the hospital he knew that he'd have to be cooperative if he were to gain any form of leverage over Connor's stubbornness to some degree. The waiting room wasn't too full, and the people who were there that late at night were either waiting for a baby to be born, or dealing with a loved one's surgery. Nothing that Hank couldn't handle, but Connor was still struggling with feeling comfortable around so many strangers; even as a human.
A nurse approached the two detectives and showed Hank to an exam room while Connor reluctantly stayed in the waiting room. It was a tense wait since Connor didn't feel comfortable sitting amongst the complete strangers who were in various stages of emotional turmoil and eerily silent. Doing his best to ignore the people around him Connor nearly jumped to his feet when he saw Hank returning to the waiting room with a prescription in his hand.
"Hank?"
"You were right, kid. I have strep throat."
"How bad?"
"Bad enough I have to take the next few days off. I just need to get my prescription filled, and if I don't show improvement in two days I'll need to come back."
"I'll take half shifts so I can keep an eye on you."
"Connor, I'm fine. I'm not that sick."
"But you're sick enough to warrant a doctor's care."
"Yeah, yeah. Let's get this 'script filled so we can go home and I can sleep."
"Of course. I'll drive."
Hank slept in without any problems after getting his diagnosis and medication. It was a quiet morning as Connor let Sumo outside and then back in once the massive dog finished his business, and proceeded to fill the dog's food and water bowls. Impressive still Connor was able to make Hank a light breakfast without making any sound, and carried a tray with the prepared breakfast in tow. Placing the tray down on the table beside the bed Connor pressed his hand to Hank's forehead and noted he was still running a mild fever.
"Hank?" The younger detective stated in a low voice to gently wake Hank from his sleep.
From under the thick quilt a groggy voice responded in a somewhat raspy tone. "...What is it Connor?"
"You need to take your medication."
"...Oh." Opening his eyes as he pulled down the quilt he saw Connor hovering over him and noticed the hand against his forehead. "Stop worrying about me, Connor. I'm okay."
"I know. I just want to make sure your infection doesn't get any worse."
"Connor, if I feel worse I'll text you at the precinct." Sitting up in the bed Hank tried to get up fully but Connor pushed him back against the pillow. Too tired to fight back all he could do was try to talk his way into getting out of bed. "Come on, kid."
"No. I brought you some breakfast. You should eat something and take your medication."
"Connor." Hank grabbed onto the younger man's arm and gave him a focused stare. "I have a sore throat. Not a brain tumor."
"...Right."
"I get you're just trying to help but it's fine. Besides," he let go of Connor's arm and watched as the attentive younger detective placed the tray down before him for his convenience. "now that you're a human you can get sick, too. Don't get too close to me."
"...I hadn't considered the risk of a possible contamination."
"Hey! Don't say 'contamination', it makes me feel like I have some weird disease or something."
"Sorry." Connor made sure Hank took his medication before backing out of the room. "I don't need to clock in for another two hours, so I can-"
"You've done plenty, son. Thanks."
Staying quiet Connor left the bedroom and proceeded to quietly and discreetly clean up the kitchen, while also trying to disinfect various surfaces to keep Hank from getting any sicker. As he finished off the kitchen he made his way into the livingroom and noticed that Sumo was sprawled out over the length of the couch making it impossible to clean.
"Sumo, you're going to need to move." Connor stated as he gently patted the dog's hip and dragged his forearm over his sweaty forehead. Realizing that he was sweating Connor sighed and decided he needed to stop cleaning if he were to shower off in time before going to work. "But that can wait until later."
The precinct was already chaotic when Connor arrived. A string of deviant related assaults had been reported throughout the entire city and there simply weren't enough detectives available to sift through the carnage. Taking it upon himself to deal with the aftermath of the needless violence Connor ended taking nine different witness statements from the affected deviants, as well as two long, argumentative interrogations from the arrested suspects who had been properly identified by the witnesses.
It took Connor almost six hours to convince the deviant witnesses to trust him, and only two minutes to make the arrested suspects hate him. Fortunately both suspects were arrested and charged with the assaults without any further incidents. As long as some degree of progress was being made then Connor would be satisfied with current rate of work.
Making his way into the breakroom Connor made himself some tea and pulled his phone from his pocket. Texting a request to Lucas to check in on Hank for him, he cleared a dry spot from his throat and felt someone join him inside the small space of the breakroom.
"Connor."
"Captain."
"Good work on those interrogations."
"Thank you."
"I'm glad your skill with getting people to talk hasn't wavered since your return to humanity." Captain Fowler complimented as he watched Connor's demeanor casually. "And I understand you've been successful in getting deviants to come forth when they've been assaulted. Very good work."
"Thank you, sir."
Staring at Connor for a moment longer Captain Fowler continued on casually. "I also appreciate you taking up all the extra hours with so many officers out sick, but don't push yourself. If you get sick too then that won't help anyone."
"I'm doing my best to keep healthy. Hank is currently, ill but it isn't serious."
"Yeah, I heard. Strep throat, right?"
"Yes. I've asked Lucas to check on him and so far he's fine."
"Shit." Captain Fowler crossed his arms over his chest and let out a breathy sigh. "First Chris and now Hank."
"Is there anyone from a second precinct available to cover the missing shifts?"
"Not for another two days."
Connor nodded as he took another sip of his tea and winced a little as his own throat was beginning to get raw. "I'll do whatever I can to keep myself from getting ill."
"Are you okay?"
"Fine. Why?"
"You look a little pale."
"I'm just a little tired from dealing with all of the interviews and interrogations."
"Alright. Finish your shift and then head on home."
Nodding Connor finished his tea and winced again as his throat protested slightly against the warm drink. "Damn it."
Taking the necessary precaution of washing out his used mug thoroughly to keep himself from spreading germs Connor sighed and returned to his desk to finish the final details of his report and then log out for the day. Sending Lucas another text he let his brother know that other officers were still sick and that he was beginning to feel the effects of all the extended overtime wearing him out.
"...How I wish I was still immune to germs."
Rolling onto his side under the thick quilt draped over him Hank sighed and winced at the lingering pain in his throat. His head was beginning to hurt and the more he tried to ignore it the worse it seemed to ache. Fortunately Lucas was able to go to the house to keep an eye on Hank and was more than happy to learn about human physiology and biology just as he had with android internal technology. Monitoring Hank's condition from afar Lucas finally decided to interject with the human's rest and bring Hank some water to drink.
"I understand that when humans suffer from such an inflammation of the esophagus-"
"Sore. Throat." Hank snipped in much simpler and more accurate terms out of sheer exhaustion and his headache. "Don't make it sound so dramatic."
"Sorry. But as I was saying, I understand that when humans suffer from sore throats that it becomes difficult to properly eat and drink." The deviant handed Hank a glass of water and two small tablets of ibuprofen. "I also understand that it's important to remain hydrated and that pain relieving medication will allow you to relax enough to rest as needed. You also have a low-grade fever of one-hundred point three degrees."
Hank turned to look at Lucas standing behind him and sighed as he accepted the offered water and medicine. "...Thanks." Sitting up he popped the two pills into his mouth and forced himself to down the medicine with the water. "So, any word from Connor?"
"He told me through text messages that other officers at your precinct have fallen ill, and he is feeling tired from working so many extra hours."
"...Yeah. Not surprised."
"Hank, you seem preoccupied." The deviant was ever bit as observant as his brother. Pressing the back of his hand to the side of Hank's neck he gauged his temperature and his pulse. "Is something bothering you?"
"...A little. Can I ask what you know about Connor's past?"
"As a human?"
"Yeah. His childhood to be exact."
"Oh." Retracting his hand Lucas sat down on the edge of the bed beside Hank and gave him a wary glance. "He has told me of his abomination of a biological father who repeatedly beat him, and nearly killed him. I am very glad he managed to get away from him and survived."
Hank remained quiet as he folded his arms over his chest and began to contemplate Connor's survival as a small, weak child and the cruelty of such a violent, heartless person.
"Hank. What is it about Connor's past that is bothering you?"
"...You know that Connor had an abusive childhood at the hands of his father, what do you know about his mother?"
"She died from complications during childbirth, and preexisting injuries she sustained just prior to giving birth."
"Do you know how she became injured?"
"...Connor's biological father struck her."
"Right. And yet that cruel bastard was permitted to take custody of Connor, who was born seven weeks early because he smacked around his own wife, and ended up killing her."
"...That does seem highly illogical if not completely... wrong, to allow someone like that to retain custody of a child."
"I've been looking through Connor's past as much as I can." Hank explained in a level voice. "Specifically regarding the legalities surrounding what happened to his mother and to himself afterward. What I found stinks of corruption and I've reached a deadend."
"What did you find?"
"The judge who was overseeing the case when that bastard was charged with negligent homicide decided that it was in fact an accident, that Connor's mother did fall down that staircase even though her injuries were inconsistent with the supposed fall, AND she had filed numerous reports against him in the past regarding domestic violence. There was a definite bias against her and for him. And in the end, it killed her."
"You may be correct about the corruption. How much research have you gone into since you've learned of Connor's past?"
"A lot, but it's still not enough. Everything I've uncovered I've saved on my laptop."
Lucas closed his eyes for a moment as he cybernetically tapped into Hank's laptop and uploaded the uncovered information. "...Your search was very thorough. You've uncovered the full arrest record of Anthony Leonard Wolf for aggravated assault and negligent homicide, only to have the charges dropped due to a perceived lack of evidence. You've also uncovered the obituary of Elizabeth Natalie Wolf; although the details regarding her funeral are unusually sparse."
"Did you just- Never mind. Anyway," Hank sighed as stared at the deviant android beside him. "everything I've looked into points to corruption in the courthouse, and the precinct that his mother had gone to. They never took her seriously, or they just decided she was exaggerating her claims. These same officers who handled her cases were 'good friends' with the judge, and they all have histories with mistreating women. That's why her obituary and funeral details are so minuscule; it'd reveal how much the precinct in that city screwed up if word got out that they ignored a woman seeking help from her abusive husband."
"...Connor's mother had sought help but received none."
"Yeah, and it sickens me. The worst part is that Connor, who was born too early and has been faced with a lifetime of weakened health ever since, was placed back in that bastard's custody. Why? And how in the hell did Connor survive that man's cruelty throughout his infancy and childhood?"
Lucas's brow furrowed a little as he reached out through his cybernetic links and contacts. He was quiet for almost two solid minutes before he spoke up again to the detective, his heart heavy with conflicted emotions. "...Hank, Connor was left in the care of the hospital for almost two years before he was placed in the care of social workers who were also 'good friends' with the corrupt judge. When Connor was three years of age he was placed in his father's care under the legal claim that the social workers would check in on his care on a weekly basis. They did not."
"Fucking hell."
"...When Connor was found walking the streets the night his father broke his arm a massive investigation into the abuse and the parties that allowed said abuse to continue went underway. The corrupt judge, officers and social workers were all arrested and charged with neglect and numerous other legal indiscretions. It was a massive controversy that unsettled Novi, and the city is still struggling to overcome the negative impact it had on the population."
"That explains why Connor survived infancy and ended up with his abusive father. I couldn't find much more on the case beyond Connor's emancipation since the file was sealed. How'd you find all that out?"
"I have a strong influence within the deviant community and as such I have numerous contacts who work in numerous departments throughout the state."
"That's handy. Look Lucas, don't tell Connor I've been searching into his past."
"...May I ask why?"
"He's still getting over what happened to him as a kid and he's only just stopped having those damn nightmares. I don't want him to start thinking about it again and undoing all of his hard work."
"I understand fully." The front door of the house opened and Lucas could hear Sumo's nails clicking over the hardwood floors as he rushed to the door to greet the newly returned detective. "Connor has returned home."
"Remember. Don't let him know about this and don't bring up the subject."
"...What if he wishes to discuss the subject under his own volition?"
"Then let him. He needs to talk it out, but don't push him."
"Of course." Standing up from the bed Lucas made his way down the hall to greet his brother and found Connor standing beside the couch with his hand on Sumo's head as the dog sat obediently at his feet. "Hello, Connor."
"Hi, Lucas."
The deviant tilted his head a little as he noticed that Connor was pale and seemed to be sweating. "You are feeling ill as well, aren't you?"
"I'm just tired."
Lucas knew Connor too well and recognized when his brother was suffering from some anomaly. Pressing the back of his hand to Connor's forehead Lucas quickly registered his temperature and moved his hand down to press against the side of Connor's neck. "You have an elevated temperature of one-hundred point one degrees."
"I'm alright. It's Hank who requires attention."
"No. You must rest." Grabbing onto Connor's left arm gently Lucas pulled his brother through the livingroom and down the hall into Connor's bedroom. "If you are feeling tired and you are running a low-grade fever, one that is only slightly lower than Hank's current temperature, then you are risking a serious illness by pushing yourself so hard."
"Wait a moment." Connor pulled his arm from Lucas's grip long enough to go into the bathroom and remove his contact lenses. After he blinked a few times he looked over at his brother and gave him a casual glance. "I must make a conscious effort to remove my contacts since I no longer have perfect vision."
"Yes, I often forget you now wear corrective lenses." Lucas put his hand to Connor's shoulder to show his brother into the bedroom to rest, despite Connor's best efforts to insist he wasn't actually sick. "You need to rest now. You are showing signs of a chronic infection and your immune system is still vulnerable to numerous other infections. I don't want to see you admitted to the hospital to undergo treatment."
"...You may be correct." Connor slipped off his gray jacket and loosened his tie as stood in the middle of the bedroom. "My weakened immune system due to my prolonged time in a comatose state, as well as my preexisting conditions due to my premature birth, should be taken into consideration. I might be on the verge of a severe infection."
"Lay down." Lucas instructed as took his leave of the bedroom for a moment. "I will bring you some medication for your fever."
Connor agreed and changed from his work uniform into much more comfortable casual clothes, and then laid down on his bed to rest. As he let out a weary breath he pressed the back of his forearm to his own forehead and realized he was in fact running a fever.
"Drink this." Lucas returned to the room and handed Connor a glass of water and two pills to reduce his temperature. "What are your symptoms?"
Ignoring the question Connor sat up on his bed and took the two offered items. "How is Hank?"
"Resting well. His fever is holding at one-hundred point three degrees, but he is eating and is remaining hydrated."
"And he's taking the antibiotics?"
"Yes." Lucas watched as Connor downed the pills with water and winced in pain just as Hank had been doing. "Connor, is your throat sore as well?"
"...Yeah. It started this afternoon."
"Open your mouth, please."
"It's not strep throat, Lucas." Connor deflected as he put the glass of water on the table beside his bed. "I examined my throat before I left the precinct."
"Oh?"
"My tonsils are inflamed, but it's not strep throat."
"Tonsillitis is a serious illness as well."
"I've had it before as a child, I've overcome it then and I can do so again."
"How many times were sick with tonsillitis?"
"I can remember four separate occasions from my childhood when I exhibited symptoms of this particular illness."
"You should have them surgically extracted. Chronic tonsillitis can cause significant damage to your immune system."
Connor's hand went to his throat as if needing to shield himself from the very idea of needing surgery. "I'm fine. If my fever increases then I'll seek medical intervention."
"Lay down now and sleep."
"Lucas, I'm not-"
"I'll remain here to watch over you and Hank while you both rest. Please allow me to help you."
Relenting Connor laid back against his pillow and closed his eyes. "...Thank you, Lucas."
"You're welcome, brother. I will stay until ten o'clock this evening to ensure you're both resting well."
Sumo had decided to keep Connor company as the tired detective tried to sleep through his sickness. Resting his chin over Connor's hip as he laid on his side Connor was awoken by his own choking breaths as coughed and immediately winced at the extreme pain in his throat. As he pushed himself upright with one arm Connor felt his head swim and knew his fever had gotten worse as he slept.
"Lu-" Connor winced again as his raw throat suddenly burned and made his voice hoarse. Noticing the time on his phone Connor knew that Lucas was still in the house and forced himself to get up, eliciting a whine from Sumo in return. "...Luc..."
Unable to speak properly Connor stumbled out of his bedroom and into the bathroom just a few feet away. As he braced himself upright on the sink he stared at his pale face in the mirror's reflection and opened his mouth to look at his throat. His tonsils were dark red and very swollen to almost double their normal size. It was then Connor realized why he was having difficulty breathing while he was sleeping.
Leaning forward against the sink Connor to keep himself balanced felt a cool hand slip over his forehead as Lucas found him and checked his fever. "Your temperature has risen to one-hundred and one point four degrees."
"...I think I should go see a doctor."
"I agree." Lucas guided Connor into the livingroom to sit down on the couch for a moment. "Remain here, I will contact the hospital and inform Hank that you need to go seek treatment."
Pressing his face down into the palms of his hands he rested his elbows atop his knees and let out a pained sigh. "...I hate hospitals."
A firm hand on his shoulder made Connor look up and see Hank standing beside him. "I hate hospitals, too."
"You don't have to go with me, Hank."
"Sure I do. You're my son."
"...You should be resting."
"Uh-huh, and how much rest do you think I'll get if you're in the hospital and I have no idea what's going on with you?"
"...Fair point."
"And the fact that you want to go to see a doctor means you're really sick."
"My tonsils are severely inflamed and it's becoming difficult to breathe."
"Yup." Slipping his hand from Connor's shoulder to his forehead Hank shook his head a little before putting his hand back to the sick man's shoulder and patting twice sympathetically. "You're sick. You're actually complaining."
The hospital staff was eager to check on Connor's throat due to the wave of strep throat that was sweeping through the area, and had also taken a moment to check on Hank's own illness to ensure he wasn't getting worse. Lucas hovered back and forth between Connor and Hank as the two detectives were getting examined, but once Connor was confirmed to have a severe case of tonsillitis he stayed at his brother's side as Connor was prepped for surgery.
"I've recently downloaded information regarding tonsillectomies," Lucas stated in a calm voice as watched a nurse preparing an I.V. in the bend of Connor's left arm. She was unfazed by the conversation and continued to make sure the correct dose of antibiotics were delivered to the sick man. "and the procedure has become significantly simpler in the past eleven years."
"...How so?" Connor's throat was becoming too raw to speak and his voice was hoarse.
"Instead of putting you under a full dose of heavy anesthetics to extract your tonsils they will now give you a local anesthetic to numb the immediate area and provide a moderate sedative to keep you asleep. Precision surgical lasers will sever and cauterize the tissues at the same time. You won't have to worry about bacterial infection considering the haste and accuracy of the procedure."
"...That's good."
"Your throat will remain sore and your voice will be hoarse for the next two days, but you won't need to stay in the hospital for observation as long as you don't show any adverse reaction to the medication."
Connor nodded a little as the surgeon came into the room where he was waiting for the procedure to begin. The surgeon introduced himself and explained what was going to happen to Connor, his words practically identical to what Lucas had just told the ill man, Connor seemed to be calm enough and unafraid of the impending surgery.
"I will be in the waiting room with Hank." Lucas stated in a confident voice as he patted Connor's arm. "When you are permitted to leave I will take you home to rest."
Nodding again Connor watched as Lucas took his leave of the room. The deviant retreated to the waiting room where he closed his eyes and resumed a search into the details regarding Connor's past. The desire to find answers to help his brother and overcome his lingering pain from his traumatic childhood was now a priority.
A familiar voice and a gentle hand against Connor's shoulder roused the lethargic man from his drug-induced sleep. Opening his blurry eyes Connor saw Lucas staring down at him with Hank right beside him. As he spoke to Connor in a firm voice he was trying to get some sort of response from the recovering human without shaking him, or jostling him in the process.
"...Lu-" Connor's hand weakly went to this throat as a sharp pain accompanied his choked off words.
"Don't speak." Lucas insisted as spoke with his brother. "You tolerated the surgery very well and only require an hour of observation before you will be permitted to go home and rest."
Looking past Lucas toward Hank he nodded at the detective's direction.
Hank put his hand on Connor's bicep and kept it there for a moment. "I'm fine, kid. The doctor said my throat is already clearing up. The problem is I might get you sick while you're healing so Lucas is going to have to stick around to take care of you until we're both back on our feet."
Connor nodded again as he looked up at Lucas and grabbed onto his arm gratefully.
"Don't worry, big brother. I'll help you both for as long as you need me."
"I'm going to let the doctor know you woke up." Hank volunteered as he stepped out of the room. "I'll be back in a minute."
Tired, but already trying to get up, Connor felt Lucas apply more pressure to his shoulder to make him lay still.
"Rest. You'll be home soon, just be patient."
Laying back down Connor lifted up his shaking hands and eyed the I.V. still attached to his arm. As much as he wanted to tear the line out of his vein he knew better and just did as Lucas requested and rested.
"It's okay, Connor." Lucas reassured him as he stayed at his side. "It's over."
Despite being told specifically by his doctor to rest for forty-eight hours Connor was still trying to get up to take care of himself, and check in on Hank. Lucas had to practically carry Connor over his shoulder to get him to lay down and rest after returning from the hospital, and now he was ready to do the same thing just to get his stubborn brother to sleep for a few hours.
"Please, Connor. Remain in bed and sleep. If you wish to have something to preoccupy your mind tell me and I'll assist you."
"...Hank?"
"Hank is resting as well." Lucas had also insisted that Connor use his phone to communicate via texts and spare his voice, but as always Connor was being too stubborn for his own good. "And his fever broke entirely this morning. He's taking a shower as we speak."
Connor opened his mouth to try to speak again but Lucas forced the detective's phone into his hand and pointed at the screen. Taking the hint Connor texted out his next question and waited for Lucas to respond.
"No, Connor. He is not showing any sign of other illnesses; including Rheumatic fever, post streptococcal reactive arthritis, renal distress or any other secondary infections. Please stop worrying about him."
Sending another text he gave his brother a sympathetic stare.
"Connor, he isn't denying being ill because you're ill. That's what YOU are doing."
Another quick text.
"Don't be sorry, please. You just need to stop worrying so much about him and let yourself rest."
One more text.
"Yes. Hank is feeling much better and is getting as restless as you are. The difference is he didn't have emergency surgery and is allowed to walk around the house."
Putting aside his phone Connor leaned back against his pillows and tried to relax.
"You won't need any additional antibiotics for another forty-three minutes and nine seconds. I will bring you your medication when it's time and I have also prepared a pot of soup that will be beneficial to you and Hank during your recovery." After making certain that Connor wasn't going to try to get up again Lucas gave his sick brother a reassuring nod and took a step toward the bedroom door. "Your Captain is granting you and Hank five consecutive days of rest and thanks you for working as much as you did. Now it's your turn to sleep and recover."
As Lucas turned to leave he received one final text from Connor as the ill detective typed a simple message on his phone beside him and pressed 'send'.
Turning back around to face his brother Lucas gave him an amused grin. "You're welcome. Now sleep."
Leaving Connor's bedroom Lucas patted Sumo's head as the massive dog laid sprawled out on the couch and made his way into the kitchen. Checking on the pot of soup on the stove Lucas heard the shower turn off and knew Hank would be joining him soon. Noting the instructions on the bottle of antibiotic pills and the requirements; be taken every six hours with food, Lucas was confident that Connor would recover soon.
"Smells pretty good." Hank stated as he walked into the kitchen to check in with Lucas. "How come you and Connor are such good cooks?"
"A part of my mind and personality stems directly from Connor, it makes sense that I'd share some of his skills despite my lack of experience."
"And yet you're way more agreeable and nowhere near as stubborn as he is."
"Perhaps my mind being wiped clean of all of CyberLife's influence and having selected memories from Connor being transferred over allowed my personality to shift and adapt in a different manner. And since I was activated without Connor's memories being transferred into my mind due to him being deactivated it stopped his personal, repressed memories from his time as a human to enter my consciousness."
"Maybe." Hank wasn't quite sure what Lucas said but he decided it was easier to just agree rather than try to asked more questions. "But whatever the reason is I'm glad you're not being affected by his bad childhood."
"As am I. It's truly upsetting to see him so melancholy."
"How's he doing?"
"He's recovering well, but if he would remain in bed and actually rest he'd be recovering quicker."
"Welcome to my problems, Lucas. I had to fight to get him to lay down and rest after being shot, shocked and blown up by a bomb." Giving the deviant an amused stare he made his way over to the counter take his own medication as he spoke nonchalantly. "Do you really think he's going to stay down all because of a little sore throat?"
"But it wasn't a simple sore throat. Tonsillitis is very serious and-"
"Lucas. That was hyperbole."
"...Oh."
"You know, I think this behavior of his toward being sick or hurt and refusing to rest, or even asking for help, all stems from his childhood." Hank's eye lit up as if he had just solved a thoroughly intriguing mystery. "Connor never got any help from his own father, and no one else cared enough to help him when he really needed it. He doesn't ask for help because he either doesn't know how to ask, or he's asked so many times and no one's bothered to respond he's simply given up."
"...That's a dreadfully sad theory."
"But it fits."
"How do we help him overcome this reluctance to admit he needs help?"
"We don't." The senior detective shrugged his shoulders indifferently as he all but admitted defeat. "Only he can do that."
Lucas nodded a little as he took Hank's advice to heart. "I'll bring him some soup and perhaps something to read so he'll stay put."
"Good luck. If anything he's going to try to convince you he's feeling fine and can take care of himself."
"I'll do what it takes to keep him resting."
"Uh-huh." Hank sounded a little pessimistic about Lucas's claim. "I'll be in the livingroom if you need some help."
As Lucas carried a small tray with a bowl of soup and a glass of water into the bedroom Connor opened his eyes and looked at his brother with a strange sense of appreciation mixed with surprise. Pushing himself upright on his bed Connor tried to move into a sitting position but Lucas put the tray down on the table beside the bed and firmly planted his hand in the middle of Connor's chest to keep him still.
"Sit back, please."
Connor begrudgingly sat back and stopped trying to get up.
Lucas's brow furrowed a little as he noted Connor's pulse under his palm. "...Are you in pain?" The strange beat was a little disconcerting. "Your pulse seems rather erratic."
Shaking his head 'no' Connor took his phone and sent Lucas a new text to explain things.
"I'm aware that human pulses aren't as perfectly rhythmic and mechanically controlled as android pulses," Lucas acknowledged as he replied to the text. "but yours is noticeably different."
Sending one more text Connor gave his worried brother a firm glance that reassured him he wasn't denying or lying about his health.
"I suppose you're correct." Lucas retracted his palm and stood straight up again. "Your body still healing from both the infection and surgery would result in a slightly elevated heart rate." Making sure his brother was comfortable Lucas placed the tray over Connor's legs and pressed the back of his hand to Connor's forehead. "Your fever has diminished considerably. And Hank is already feeling much better. You both appear to me on the mend."
Sumo trotted into the bedroom and put his chin down over the edge of the bed as he watched Connor curiously. His tail was wagging slowly back and forth over the floor and atop Lucas's feet.
"I suppose Sumo wishes to either keep you company or beg for food."
Connor smirked a little and put his hand on the large dog's head. "...Good boy."
"Save your voice and only text to communicate. I will be in the livingroom with Hank if you need anything else."
Giving Lucas an appreciative nod Connor looked at the tray presented before him, and picked up his phone to ensure that he'd use text messages to communicate further.
"Thank you, Connor. I will go see to Hank, now."
Lucas found Hank sitting at the desk in the corner of the livingroom with his laptop wide open. As he stared at the screen he acknowledged Lucas's return and thanked the deviant as he brought him a bowl of soup as well. "Thanks, kid. But you didn't have to do that."
"No, but I wanted to." Joining Hank at the desk he tentatively asked what the detective was looking into. "Are you still searching into Connor's past?"
"Yeah. I didn't find much to work with," Hank admitted as he dipped the spoon into the bowl of soup presented to him. "but this is kind of a routine for me now. It feels like I'm spying on Connor but I just want to make sure there aren't any nasty surprises waiting for him around the corner."
"You're looking out for him, Hank." Lucas empathized as he read over the collected information quickly. "I too am curious about his past, but I will respect your request to refrain from pushing Connor to speak of his past directly."
"Thanks, Lucas." Hank turned to look at the helpful deviant, the second son he adopted, and smirked. "Go ahead and make yourself comfortable on the couch, Lucas. Stay the night so you don't have to take a cab to go back to the tower just come right back here in the morning."
"...Thank you, Hank. I'd like to stay the night." Looking down at the hallway Lucas decided to check in on Connor again. "I'll go see how Connor is doing and if he's comfortable I will enter rest mode for the night."
"Sounds good."
Creeping into the bedroom Lucas saw that Connor was already asleep and curled up on his right side, facing the opened doorway. The tray was placed on the table beside him and half of the bowl of soup had been eaten, while the entire glass of water had been drank, which itself wasn't a surprise. Sumo was sprawled out on the foot of the bed with his chin over Connor's legs, which wasn't a surprise either.
Very lightly Lucas pressed his fingers to the side of Connor's neck to count his pulse and to make sure his fever wasn't rising. "Sleep well, big brother."
Cleaning up the tray and carrying everything into the kitchen Lucas returned to the bedroom with a fresh glass of water and left it on the table beside the bed to ensure Connor wouldn't have to get up if he needed anything more to drink during the night. Giving Sumo's head a gentle rub Lucas made his way back down the hallway and into the livingroom.
"Connor is finally asleep." Lucas stated confidently as he resumed speaking with Hank. "Sumo is keeping him company."
Hank smirked at hearing that Sumo was unsurprisingly cuddled up with Connor. "You know you're always welcome here, Lucas. You don't have to ask or wait for an invitation, son. Just come over whenever you want to visit or if you just need to get away from work for a while. Trust me, you'll want a place to hide out from work from time to time."
"Thank you." Smiling a little Lucas walked over to the couch and sat down as he watched Hank still sitting behind his laptop. "I'll remember that."
...next chapter...
