Despite his best efforts to concentrate on his potential case at hand, a single person was threatening deviants while vandalizing deviant residents, Connor was hunched over himself with his soulful brown eyes staring at his large digital display screen, though they remained unfocused and glassy as he tried and failed to read through the little details presented to him. Feeling unusually tired, uncomfortably warm and wincing at a persistent dull ache in his artificial stomach, Connor found himself far too distracted to function and handle his self appointed assignment properly. Performing a self diagnostic Connor closed his glazed over brown eyes and patiently waited for the program to finish its run, but the results came back frustratingly inconclusive.

With his head aching and his artificial skin paling Connor knew it was only a matter of time before Lucas noticed that he wasn't quite himself that afternoon. Doing his best to remain nonchalant Connor stood up from the sofa and immediately braced himself upright against the wall as he suddenly and unexpectedly felt very dizzy and swayed awkwardly on his feet.

Lucas, sitting on the second sofa at the opposite side of the study, watched with a furrowed brow of curiosity as his brother discreetly regained his balance and stared down at his own legs as if trying to understand why he was suddenly graceless in his motions. When Connor didn't say anything or try to offer an immediate explanation for his behavior Lucas took the initiative himself.

"Something wrong?" Lucas asked casually as he rubbed Bruno's ears and earned some happy tail wags in response. "You seem a little... off."

"I am unsure." Connor straightened his posture to the best of his ability and put his free hand to the side of his head as if in pain. A weak cough erupted from his lips as he cleared his throat and took a deep breath to keep his ventilation biocomponents functioning properly. The odd reaction caught Connor off guard and his face blushed a pale blue to acknowledge his needless embarrassment "...That was unexpected."

"You coughed." Now knowing that something was going on with his brother Lucas crossed the study to get a better look at Connor's face. "It may just be my instincts as a technician taking hold, but I suspect that you're experiencing an error."

"Coughing isn't necessarily a-" Another cough stole his voice and made him inwardly flinch a little in response. The coughing was against his will, made his ventilation biocomponents seize and his artificial stomach churn a little. "...I'm not doing that on purpose, but it's not necessarily an error or glitch."

"Did you perform a self diagnostic?"

"Yes, however, my self diagnostic program was inconclusive." Not wanting to worry or Lucas or increase his stress levels by mistake, Connor volunteered to get his system checked by another technician. "I believe I should see Abby and have a second scan performed." Despite his own stubborn nature Connor couldn't deny that something was wrong with his overall functionality. "My systems are currently operating at unusual levels."

"Want me to escort you to the Zeta Facility?"

"No." Connor stated somewhat confidently as he turned to walk away from the supportive wall and to the front door of the brownstone. He subtly moved his hand from the side of his head and over his artificial stomach as he walked. "I will manage alone just fine, thank you for your concern."

"Very well." Standing back and giving his brother some space, Lucas just watched as Connor sluggishly opened the front door and managed to step outside without tripping along the way. "I'll remain here in the event do you request my assistance."

Using his hand along the bricks walls of the buildings to guide himself as he walked Connor made his way slowly, clumsily but successfully, down the block and toward the designated facility. As soon as he was out of sight of his brother and the loyal K-9 unit, the unstable deviant leaned his back against the side of the nearest building and slipped down to the ground to sit for a minute as dizziness overwhelmed him, and the ache in his artificial stomach increased to a new level of discomfort he couldn't describe.

Managing to gain enough control over his senses to regain his bearings Connor sat as still as possible for a minute while he stifled another weak cough. Fighting the urge to slip into rest mode Connor pushed himself back up to his feet and continued on his way to the facility just a few yards away. Fortunately for Connor, no one else was around when he walked down the block to seek aid for his enigmatic errors. Continuing to use his left hand along the wall to guide himself down the long sidewalk Connor entered the facility through the front doors.

Connor stumbled into the facility, the waiting area full of other deviants who looked as rundown and sick as he felt, and stood as idle as possible as he addressed Barry from afar. "Barry, does Dr. Grayson have a moment to spare?"

"Hello, Connor. Dr. Grayson is in the back on break at the moment between her scheduled appointments." Barry noted as he stopped typing on his keyboard and walked over to meet the deviant in the middle of the waiting area. Barry quickly noticed that Connor's eyes seemed glazed over and his gaze was distant. "Feeling unwell, are we?"

"I'm experiencing unusual activity in my system that my self diagnostic program can't properly identify." Holding his palm over the center of his chest as if he could physically keep another cough at bay, Connor paused for a moment before continuing once he was sure he wouldn't cough again. "...I was hoping Dr. Grayson could identify and possibly correct the problem."

"I'll let her know you're here." Showing Connor down the nearby corridor and into a vacant exam room to rest. "Why don't you lay down on the exam table for a moment? I'll leave you alone to rest and let Abby know you're here."

Nodding slightly as he climbed up onto the exam table and then slowly laid back over the table to rest and keep his stomach from betraying him. "Thank you, Barry."

Only a few minutes passed between Barry leaving the exam room and Abby entering to check in on her newest patient. She looked a tad uncomfortable as her condition progressed, but never once complained as she always put her patients above herself. Hovering over the exam table Abby studied Connor's reactions very carefully. The technician's trained eyes were observing every one of Connor's motions and overall behavior closely.

"You look like you're feeling pretty sick." Abby noted sympathetically as she put her hand to the deviant's shoulder. "I know how you feel. I'll see what I can do for you so you can get some rest."

"Thank you." Connor turned his head to watch as Abby crossed the room to roll her diagnostic modem over the table and felt his head swim as another dizzy spell suddenly washed over him. Moving his palm from his chest up to cover his eyes Connor paused mid motion. "I-I'm not sure what is happening.

"Dizzy?" The attentive technician inquired knowingly as she gauged Connor's behavior closely. Putting her palm to Connor's forehead and noted the steady heat radiating from Connor's person. "Tell me anything unusual you're feeling so I can give you an accurate diagnosis."

"I have periodically suffered from bouts of unexplained syncope." Connor admitted with a weak cough as he slowly lowered his hand from his head again. Laying flat helped end the dizziness, but Connor still felt terrible as he felt his chest tighten with an impending cough. "I am also experiencing a sporadic cough that is difficult to restrain, and a persistent ache in my abdomen."

"Is your gyroscope malfunctioning?" Keenly observing Connor's discomfort as she set up the diagnostic modem Abby began putting the pieces of the puzzle together as she stood beside the exam table. Watching Connor's soulful brown eyes visually scanning the room Abby noted that it seemed as if Connor was having difficulty in focusing on anything for any extended periods of time. "Does it need to be recalibrated?"

Since his self diagnostic was inclusive Connor couldn't answer the question one way or the other. "I do not know."

"All right, let's take a look." Gingerly Abby opened Connor's gray vest before she very gently placed her hand flat over Connor's lower abdomen. The light touch was enough to cause Connor to visibly flinch as Abby had already located the point of physical discomfort that Connor had been suffering in silence. "Does that hurt?"

Fighting to keep another cough restrained it took Connor a moment to answer the simple question. "...Y-Yes."

"Sorry about that. I know how it feels to have people constantly poking me in the stomach, so I tried to be gentle."

"N-Not your fault." The sick deviant wasn't going to fault Abby for just doing her job. He also couldn't imagine what she was experiencing as her pregnancy was constantly albeit very slowly altering her body inside and out. "It's okay."

"Well, I can already feel that your system is slightly overheated and based on your reaction I believe it's safe to say your gyroscope is in fact malfunctioning."

"Do you know the cause of the malfunction?" Connor watched as Abby began sifting through the various pieces of equipment used exclusively to examine android physiology from the nearby cart. "I cannot locate the program with my own self diagnostic program."

"I have an idea." The astute technician admitted as she took a flexible plastimetal band and wrapped it around Connor's left wrist. "I just need to run a few tests to make sure my theory is accurate."

The flexible band was a wearable external thermometer that gave the technician real-time accuracy of Connor's core temperature without having to be invasive. The device showed a digital display of Connor's core temperature in red digits, and as expected it was slightly elevated up to one-hundred and one point four degrees Fahrenheit. In a human that would be considered a notable fever, and with androids designed to mimic human vital signs and temperatures the higher than average number confirmed that Connor was indeed overheating.

As the device served its purpose Abby made a mental note of the reading as made a move to perform her next test. "You're not the first deviant I've seen today exhibiting these particular symptoms. Actually, you're the second today, and the fourth this week."

"Other androids in the city are malfunctioning in such a manner?" Another weak cough briefly interrupted Connor's train of thought prompting him to clear his throat before speaking up again. "I-Is it the result of a virus affecting our software?"

"Something like that." Unbuttoning Connor's white dress shirt over his abdomen Abby placed a wedge shaped plastimetal gauge down against his abdomen, which in turn caused Connor flinch and jump a little as the applied pressure made his stomach physically ache. "Sorry. Again, I know how uncomfortable this can feel and I'm trying to be gentle."

Unable to perform any scans Connor could only visually assess Abby's growing bump under her scrub top and try to guess what was happening inside her body. "It's okay. Don't apologize."

Abby held up the electronic screen connected to the gauge as she used it to externally examine Connor's gyroscope. The wedge created a type of sonar wave that allowed the technician to see the gyroscope's exact position in Connor's abdomen as well as the rate in which it was functioning without needing to open up Connor's abdominal panels to view the biocomponent.

Finishing the exam Abby made her assessment fairly easily. "Well, your gyroscope itself isn't damaged but it is in need of recalibration. It's currently being affected by your overheating core."

"Why am I-" Connor coughed again and put his hand over his mouth as he had seen humans do out of politeness and to stop the spread of their germs. Germs weren't an issue for Connor, but showing basic manners were. "...Wh-Why am I overheating?"

Putting the sonar device aside Abby tilted her head a little to the side as her warm hazel eyes narrows curiously. "I don't like the way that cough sounds."

"It hasn't affected my ventilation biocomponents beyond minor interruptions."

"Yet." Abby cautioned as she made a move for her audioscope on the nearby table of instruments. The device was designed to imitate a stethoscope and was strong enough to pierce through the dense plastimetal frame of deviants for an auditory assessment. "I'm going to listen to your chest to check on that cough. Be silent for a second, please."

Lightly, the patient technician moved Connor's black tie to the side as she slipped the ear buds of his audioscope into place to listen to the deviant's breathing. Placing the metal bell down on the central left portion of Connor's chest over his shirt, Abby listened to the sound of Connor's Thirium pump and ventilation biocomponents - his heart and artificially lungs respectively.

Listening carefully Abby ran the bell from left to right and back again over Connor's chest as she listened to every sound and motion with full focus. "Your Thirium pump is functioning normally, but there is audible faltering in your ventilation biocomponents."

Such a condition wasn't detected by his self diagnostic and caught Connor by surprise. "...Is it serious?"

"Any anomaly can be serious," removing the audioscope from her ears Abby noted Connor's temperature rising slightly to one-hundred and one point eight degrees as the thermal wrap continued to track his core temperature. "but in this case, I don't think it's anything dangerous."

"Do you know what's wrong with me, as well as the other affected androids?"

"Yup. It is in fact the result of a software virus: it's called 'Groupware Blight v1." Crossing her arms over her chest Abby gave the deviant a somewhat bemused smirk as she gave her final diagnosis. "You, my friend, are suffering from a condition known as gyroscopic impairment, complicated by mild ventilation profusion and an enervated thermal regulator. This is more commonly known as the 'android-flu'."

"The... flu?" Connor's brow furrowed with utmost confusion as he processed the information. Having flu-like symptoms from prolonged exposure to the cold or having any fluid in his ventilation biocomponents wasn't unusual, but having a full diagnosis of the flu as a whole was very bizarre! "Influenza is a human ailment."

"Right. That's why I said you have the android-flu, not just the flu."

"...Oh." Covering his mouth again Connor caught another cough and cleared his throat once the cough passed. "Wh-What causes it?"

"Well, during the colder season android biocomponents and Thirium lines become affected by the drastic change in temperature, and when the change is very abrupt or inconsistent rather than gradual, the thermal regulator becomes exhausted from attempting to compensate for the rapid fluctuations. Since we're in the middle of a heatwave we can rule out a chilly temperature fluctuation as the culprit."

Agreeing entirely Connor eagerly awaited more details about his affliction. "What's another possibility?"

"Coming in to contact with other deviants who are either currently infected or had been infected in the past with this virus, who also have similar software to your own." Pressing her palm over her growing bump Abby gave Connor a curious glance as an equally curious thought popped in her head. "Since Lucas is a technician and you two live together, I have to ask. Has Lucas been showing signs of this virus as of late?"

"No. And he's the only-" Trailing off for a moment Connor thought back to his and Lucas's recent rescue mission out to D.C. and of his Thirium transfusion with Sydney. That previous direct contact with a deviant with his exact model and design would undoubtedly be able to infect him if Sydney had been infected before. "...Actually, I think I know who infected me."

"Who's that?"

Closing his eyes Connor refused to divulge in his wayward brother's technical history. "...Long story."

"Ah, I got it. I know that sibling squabbles are pretty damn annoying to deal with." Remaining compassionate Abby made a note in Connor's electronic chart to confirm that he had been infected by Sydney. She knew of the reclusive deviant's existence since she saw him at Connor's premature funeral and asked around to figure out why he was there and where he came from. "And as for your upset stomach, anatomically your thermal regulator is right next to your gyroscope and artificial stomach, and the regulator being overburdened by wild temperature fluctuations had in turn affected your gyroscope as the regulator itself began to overheat. That's why you have pain in your stomach and dizziness."

"Makes sense. And the cough?"

"Your ventilation biocomponents have been attempting to compensate for the overexerted thermal regulator and they are collecting an influx of excessive Thirium as your system tries to boost the power to the biocomponents as you heal." Abby spoke so confidently that it was hard to even want to dispute her claims. "Essentially, coughing forces you to vent a little deeper and theoretically you should be taking in more cool air to cool off your overheating systems."

Connor put his hand to his head again as if the very admission to being ill somehow made him feel even worse. "...How did this elude my self diagnostic and my own malware protection, virus protection and the firewalls?"

"Your system attempted to register the activity of the affected android's system and attempted to synchronize your programing with theirs for easy cybernetic communication." Seemingly able to read Connor's mind Abby continued with the explanation as if the android-flu was an every day occurrence. "Unfortunately, that meant your system became infected with his system abnormality as a result. Why you two were so closely connected doesn't matter. Any form of connection was enough to transfer the virus."

"What can I do to rid it of my system?" The officially confirmed ill deviant asked rather somberly as Abby slowly walked over to a refrigerated storage cabinet in the corner of the exam room. Connor put his free hand over his mouth to catch another weak cough out of some unspoken courtesy to the technician as he awaited a reply. "I-I can't work like this."

"Well, like humans afflicted with illness, you'll need to rest." Returning to the exam table with a large transparent plastic bottle of bright green liquid in her grip Abby handed it to over Connor to take for himself. "And you need to drink this over the course of the next three days. One tablespoon every six hours."

"What is it?" Connor attempted to scan the contents of the bottle, but his system was too compromised by his condition to perform the necessary scan properly. The effort also made his head even worse hurt from the effort making every move he made nearly unbearable. "...I cannot properly identify it with my scanner."

"It's a type of coolant that'll mix with your Thirium and aid your thermal regulator in keeping your system from overheating. It also works as a painkiller."

"This is Thiricetomal."

"Yup." Abby confirmed that Connor was entirely correct in his assessment. "It's supposed to ease painful responses in your external and internal contact sensors, so it'll also allow you to recovery in relative comfort."

"...Was this created by CyberLife?"

"No. There's a new group of technicians called 'Digital Sentience' picking up the pieces after CyberLife left town. I've met a few of these new technicians and even had a couple college students who are associated with Digital Sentience working as my interns a few weeks back." Leaning back a little Abby stretched her tightening back muscles and lamented the toll that the rest of her pregnancy would take on her body. "They're pretty sharp."

"I'd rather skip using Thiricetomal considering I cannot even fully scan the contents of such an item."

"Sorry, Connor. This is all necessary while your regulator itself heals. Trust me," pushing the bottle into Connor's hand Abby was insistent that the deviant cooperate. "it'll make your recovery go a lot faster if you drink this."

"This is officially recognized as... medicine?"

"Essentially, yes." Abby reclaimed the bottle for a moment and opened the lid before handing it back to Connor. "And I want you to take your first dose here where I can see it."

Such a request seemed a little unusual. "See it?"

"I want to make sure you don't have a negative reaction since you're a prototype."

Admitting defeat Connor accepted the bottle again and chose to drink the bright green liquid. "...That is a wise precaution."

With Abby's help Connor sat upright on the table with moderate difficulty as his abdomen was still sore from his overheating regulator and upset stomach. Abby's hand was pressed against Connor's upper back to support the sick deviant as he moved very slowly. With a single glance Connor easily estimated the proper dose of the Thiricetomal and drank it, but the taste was something so unexpectedly vile that Connor had to resist spitting it back out all over the floor.

"Sorry about that!" Abby laughed a little as she put the lid back on the bottle for Connor to keep the contents from spilling. The pregnant technician saw that Connor was almost curling around himself as if he were trying to resist a terrible ache emanating from the deepest pit of his core. "Are you going to be okay? If you're going to throw-up I know some great breathing techniques to make it easier."

"...I-It hurts my stomach."

"Uncommon side effect, but it'll pass." Rubbing Connor's upper back slowly Abby clearly empathized with his stomach issues. "It's also not a serious side effect just so you know."

"...I still don't like it."

"It may taste horrendous, but it does wonders. Without it you'd take anywhere from seven to ten days to recover. This will ensure you recover in three or four days. Take your pick;" she tempted with a sarcastic tone as she watched Connor doing the math in his head. "but do you really want to be sick for a longer period of time and unable to work on cases?"

Shaking his head slightly Connor kept his shaking hand on the bottle and accepted the former option. "I find the shorter recovery period to be preferable."

"Everyone does. Now," Abby pointed to the thermometer still wrapped around Connor's left wrist. "keep that in place and go home. Be as still as possible and continue your normal rest cycle. If you spend too much time in rest mode it can disrupt your software's daily routine and you'll feel even worse before you have the chance to get better."

"...I see." Straightening back up Connor replaced the buttons on his shirt and vest, and then sighed before replacing his tie. "I'll finish my current case and then rest."

"Nope. You're finished on your case right now." Speaking in a stern tone, one might call the 'mom-voice', Abby made it clear that she wasn't going to budge on that particular request. "I'll send a message to Lucas explaining that you're benched for four days if I have to."

"You said that I could recover in three days."

"Yeah, but there's no guarantee. Besides, the extra day can give your systems more time to fully recover."

With his new orders under his belt Connor carefully slid off the table and planted his feet on the floor as he kept one hand on the table behind him for added balance. Despite wanting to leave it behind Connor took the bottle of foul tasting medicine with him as he departed dispensary. "...Thank you, Dr. Grayson."

"No problem. And call me 'Abby', I only want people I don't like calling me 'doctor'. Go home, take it easy, keep that stuff refrigerated and drink one tablespoon every six hours." Heading over to the exam room door alongside her patient, Abby prepared to head out to the breakroom to get off her feet for a few minutes. "And don't work on anything for four days. I'm serious about that, Connor." Putting her hand on his shoulder for a minute Abby made it clear she didn't want to see her friend make himself sicker through stubbornness. "You may be a deviant, but that doesn't make you impervious to illness or injury."

Reluctantly Connor did as he was instructed and made his way back down the corridor and through the waiting room to leave the Zeta Facility under his own freewill. Clutching the bottle of 'medicine' at his side Connor returned to the brownstone and did his best to keep from falling over as another dizzy spell hit him, and his stomach continued to ache with a strange tingling sensation.

"...Damn gyroscope."

Connor grumbled to himself as the faulty biocomponent continued to affect his systems and make his already upset stomach feel worse.

Entering the brownstone through the front door, Connor noticed Lucas casually sitting on the sofa with his arms crossed over his chest as if he had been waiting for him the entire time. Bruno was sitting beside his leg with his ears perked right up at full attention.

"Was Dr. Grayson able to give you a proper diagnosis?"

"I... I have the flu." Connor admitted with a low voice as he showed Lucas the green liquid in the bottle. "The android-flu. I have been sidelined for the next four days and must consume this Thiricetomal every six hours." Hating the way he sounded and felt, Connor asked a single favor from his brother. "Can you please go out to New Jericho Tower with Bruno until I recover? I don't want you getting sick because of me."

"I'm not going to leave you alone while you're sick."

"You'll get sick if you try to assist me or check my vital signs." Connor argued as he coughed into the bend of his arm and took a step back from his brother. "And I'm not going to go anywhere and risk spreading this to other deviants."

"Isolating yourself is commendable, but it's also very dangerous." Lucas countered as he kept his distance and refrained from scanning Connor's systems. "If your condition deteriorates while alone you could suffer from truly serious complications."

"Then what do you suggest?"

Lucas was quiet for a moment as he thought of a potential solution and offered it to Connor to consider. "In the past, when we've really needed assistance, Lieutenant Anderson has stepped up to aid us. Perhaps he'd be able to do so again."

"I don't want to impose on him or go anywhere."

"Then I'll ask for him to come by here. He won't have to stay with you around the clock, he'll just check in on you from time to time." Trying to find some middle ground Lucas gauged Connor's reactions closely. "Will that be satisfactory?"

"...Yes. That is an acceptable alternative."

"Very well." Taking the bottle of medicine from Connor's grip, Lucas decided to watch over the Thiricetomal and have it properly taken care of while Connor was feeling so sick. "Go upstairs and rest while I contact the Lieutenant on your behalf. I'll continue working on our case at the tower to ensure you can rest properly."

Coughing into the bend of his arm again Connor carefully walked around Lucas and Bruno to head up to the second floor and rest in his bedroom. "Thank you."

Walking up the steps with heavy and clumsy motions, Connor was practically dragging his feet as he trudged into his bedroom and all but collapsed face first on his bed. Burying his face into his pillow Connor found himself quickly entering rest mode despite his head hurting, his stomach churning and every synthetic muscle in his body aching. The full effects of the android-flu seemed to be hitting the deviant hard and it made Connor pine the brief moment in his life where he was a machine who couldn't feel anything.

An unknown amount of time had passed, the virus caused Connor's internal chronometer to falter and fail to keep track of time, and Connor felt a hand on his back as a familiar voice spoke to him in a very low tone.

"Connor?" Hank managed to wake up the ill deviant without startling him in the process. Being a father had given Hank the gift of silent footsteps while being able to enter bedrooms to check on people while sleeping and sick without giving away his presence. "Hey, I'm here to help you while you're sick. Lucas told me the whole thing already. It sucks to be sick."

"Wh-Where..." Now awake Connor let out a deep sigh as he carefully rolled from his stomach and onto his side as Hank sat down on the edge of the bed beside him. Blinking a few times Connor gained his bearings and remembered what was going on. "Where is... Lucas?"

"He and Bruno took your advice and went to New Jericho to avoid getting anyone else sick." Before Hank could say anything else Sumo suddenly appeared beside the bed and gave Connor a slobbery kiss over his cheek. "And I brought Sumo with me so I don't have to keep going back and forth between the house and the brownstone today."

"I've noticed..." Wiping the drool from his cheek Connor reached out and patted Sumo's head lightly. "And thank you."

"No problem." The way Connor was pale and seemed exhausted gave Hank enough reason to worry about the deviant's overall health. Lightly he pressed the back of his hand to Connor's forehead and did an instinctive fever-check. The deviant didn't shy away from the touch and seemed to be unaware of Hank even pressing his hand to his forehead. "Hey? You still with me?"

"Where else would I be, Lieutenant?"

"I don't know if that was you being painfully honest or a smartass." Hank noted as he took back his hand and gave Connor a sympathetic sigh. "You look terrible."

"I look as I always do."

"Nah, you're looking pretty sick. You're pale, your eyes are glazed over, and you look like you have a ten-ton weight on your shoulders."

"Such a weight would be impossible for any deviant to bear."

"Uh-huh. Just admit you're sick and don't puke on the floor." Reminding the deviant that he wasn't going to fool a detective Hank through more evidence in Connor's face. "You're also warmer than usual."

"I am in fact overheating, yes."

"Need me to turn up the air conditioner?"

"No." Glancing at the thermal wrap around his left wrist Connor saw that his core temperature had risen to an even one-hundred and two degrees. "You don't need to suffer discomfort on my account."

"Fuck, you act like me enduring a slight chill in the air is the same as a human sacrifice." The way Connor had been trying to dismiss his own illness and current weakness made Hank sigh despondently. "You can pass out for a few hours and then spoil Sumo rotten once you feel better."

The comment went without a response as the ill deviant remained silent as he bowed his head down a little.

"Yup. You're sick." The continued lack of responses and the way Connor's face seemed to pale even further while developing a blue flush over his cheeks made Hank really start to worry. "You okay?"

Connor was silent for a moment as he received a warning in his visual processors revolving around his emergency expulsion program became active. "...I may end up puking on the floor."

"Nope!"

Throwing the deviant's arm around his shoulders, Hank hauled the sick deviant up to feet, stepped around Sumo and made it over to the bathroom across the hallway just as Connor's artificial stomach betrayed him. As a torrent of blueish green liquid escaped Connor's mouth Hank returned his palm to the deviant's forehead and placed his other hand against Connor's back to try to support him as the deviant threw-up into the toilet.

Coughing a few more times Connor spit the foulness from his mouth and just knelt in a stooped over position over his own sickness in the porcelain basin. Surprised by the violent reaction Connor just stood still and tried to process everything he just endured.

"Shit." Glancing down at the oddly colored puddle Hank grimaced on his partner's behalf. "I don't think that green stuff will evaporate like Thirium. Will it?"

"...U-Unknown."

"Thanks for the warning." Patting Connor's back twice Hank made sure the deviant had gotten his sickness out of his system. "Are you going to be okay long enough to make it back to your bed?"

Connor stood upright a little with his hand protectively pressed to his stomach as he gauged the sensitivity of his artificial stomach in the process. "...I think so."

"Okay. Come on."

Patting Connor's shoulder lightly Hank guided the ill deviant back to the bedroom and helped him to lay down over the bed again. Falling back into a silent and nearly meditative state Connor didn't say a word as he waited for his stomach to stop churning.

Once Connor was back on the bed the senior detective made the deviant remove his shoes, tie, blazer, vest, the white dress shirt beneath and his jeans, and gave Connor a thin black t-shirt and gray sweatpants to wear instead after rummaging through Connor's closet. Hank insisted that it would make Connor feel more comfortable during his illness and the deviant was willing to cooperate in the hopes he would feel better soon.

While Connor slowly changed his clothing Hank then rummaged through the hallway closet and found a spare blanket neatly folded up on the top shelf. Returning to the bedroom Hank draped the blanket over the foot of the bed to ensure Connor could easily reach it if necessary. "Just in case you feel cold."

Happy to have the two detectives in the same room Sumo sat down beside the bed again with his chin resting on Connor's arm as the affectionate dog kept vigil over his favorite deviant. The loyal and friendly Saint Bernard was very attuned to Connor's behavior and mannerisms just as he was with Hank and quickly picked up on the fact that Connor was feeling ill.

Wearing the more casual clothing Connor appeared more human than ever as he laid on his back, sick and absolutely miserable. Not making any comments about Hank picking up his uniform from the floor to be washed and worn again later, Connor just tried to ignore how horrible he felt and hoped that he wouldn't vomit a second time. Sporadic coughing and dizziness kept Connor down in his bed all afternoon and well into the evening as his system fought to recalibrate itself and fend off the android-flu running rampant through his programming.

After a few hours of listening to Connor weakly cough and watching the deviant laying still in relatively silent discomfort, Hank acted on his long repressed fatherly instinct and set out trying make Connor feel better. The extra blanket was a good start, but there was so much more that Hank could do to help the deviant recover a little quicker.

"You don't have to do this." Connor stated tiredly as the senior detective pulled the thick blue blanket up and over his legs and then his chest. His glassy brown eyes watched Hank walking around the couch almost hypnotically as he moved. "I don't require any special treatment."

"You do when you're sick." Hank argued as he pressed the back of his hand against Connor's forehead to check his temperature again. "Android-flu gives you an android-fever, too. What's your temperature?"

Connor lifted up his left arm up from under Sumo's chin to look at the thermometer still wrapped around his wrist. "My core temperature is at one-hundred and two point one degrees Fahrenheit. Also, I'm overheating, not feverish."

"It's higher than before, right?"

"...Yes." Replying reluctantly but honestly Connor tried to ease Hank's worries for his condition. "But I'm still coherent and-"

"Yeah, and I'm still lucid despite my old age. You're sick and you're being stubborn." Stepping away from the bedroom Hank entered to the kitchen on the ground floor to gather a few things for the stubborn deviant's recovery. "I'll be right back."

Unsure of what Hank was up to, Connor could only lay on his bed in his misery and wait for Hank to return.

"Since you can't sweat to cool off, I'm getting you some ice. I don't want your brain to melt." After Hank pulled a thin ice bag from the freezer, he opened the fridge and picked up the bottle of green liquid medication that Lucas had placed inside it shortly before leaving the brownstone. Hank read the label on its side to ensure he didn't make any mistakes with the care instructions. "You need to drink this stuff every six hours, right?"

Connor outwardly grimaced at the notion of having to taste that repugnant medicine again yet he answered honestly all the same. "...Correct."

"We'll take care of that now since you threw-up your last dose." With the new supplies in his hands Hank pressed the provided ice pack against Connor's forehead gently, and then offered the bottle of Thiricetomal to the sick deviant to drink. "Here."

Returning to the kitchen for a moment Hank found one more item from beneath the kitchen sink. Walking back in the bedroom Hank then placed an empty mop bucket down on the floor beside the bed in the event Connor threw-up again after taking the medicine.

Connor eyed the bucket and raised his brow as he gave Hank a confused glance. "...A bucket?"

"Just in case, you know." Patting the side of the bed Hank invited Sumo up to cuddle with Connor more directly and help the deviant feel better. "That way you don't have to run into the bathroom again."

"Oh."

Hank noticed that Connor hadn't taken his next dose of Thiricetomal yet and asked about it. "Something wrong with your medicine?"

"It's possible that I can recover without the aid of that medication." Connor quickly stated as he refused to take the offered medicine and watched the reaction on Hank's face as he handed the bottle back to him. "It would just take a day or two longer to fully recover."

"Uh-huh, and why would you willingly let yourself be sick for longer?" The senior detective and father figure knew that Connor was trying to avoid something. He was going to figure it out fairly quickly, even if Connor thought he could outsmart him. "This is weird. Especially since you're a textbook 'workaholic' when it comes to handling cases."

Doing his best to avoid taking the Thiricetomal again Connor tried to feign innocence but failed as his glassy eyes fell to the bottle of green medicine in Hank's hand and gave away his true intention. "I'd just prefer to allow my systems to heal without secondary assistance."

"Bullshit." Hank pointed an accusing but non-aggressive finger at the sick deviant. "You just don't like the way this stuff tastes. I can see it in your eyes."

"I don't have any taste prefer-"

"Then drink it." Hank impatiently pushed the bottle closer to Connor's face, but the ill deviant turned his face away with a thick grimace. "I knew it. You're as bad as a little kid, you know that?"

"...It hurts my stomach." Connor confessed as he closed his tired eyes and let out a sigh as he coughed a few times. "And I don't like being in pain."

"No one does, son." That last comment struck a chord with Hank and it softened his voice. "You need it. You're going to get a whole lot worse before you get better if you don't drink this stuff."

Begrudgingly Connor opened his eyes again and stared at the questionable green tinted liquid in Hank's hand.

"Think of it this way, the sooner you're better the sooner you won't have to drink this stuff anymore." Hank opened the lid of the bottle and curiously smelled the contents within by wafting it under his nose. "Jeez, this shit smells like pure antifreeze! No wonder you can't stand the taste."

Slowly Connor reached a shaking right hand up to the bottle and took it from Hank's outstretched hand with a reluctant grip. Closing his eyes again Connor took his next dose of medicine and forced himself to swallow the potent liquid in a single gulp, and again he resisted every urge to spit it out. After taking his medicine Connor almost immediately tightened his arm around his abdomen as the vile medication had a massively negative effect on his artificial stomach.

If it wasn't for the fact that Connor looked so miserable Hank would've laughed as he took the bottle back from Connor and replaced the lid for him. "That bad, huh?"

"...Awful." Connor sighed pathetically as he sank down against his thick pillow as much as possible, his arm slowly letting go of his stomach as he relaxed a little and pressed into the soft pillow and mattress beneath his body. Focusing on the lingering sensation of the Thiricetomal rolling past his tongue Connor grimaced again. "...I can still taste it."

"Sorry. I don't know how to help you cope with a bad taste."

"It's okay. It's not your fault."

"Hey, you'll pull through this and be back to normal in a few days. Just be patient."

"I know. I'll try." The exhausted deviant looked at Hank through partially opened eyelids. "I'd like to repay you for your kindness."

"Don't worry about it, that's what friends do."

The senior detective shrugged his shoulders casually as exited the bedroom to return the medication to the fridge in the kitchen for proper storage. It didn't take him long to return to the bedroom and keep Connor some company as the sick deviant continued to rest.

"Besides, next winter when I end up being sick with the flu, and I do every fuckin' year, you can make sure I take whatever nasty medication the doctor prescribes me. Deal?"

Connor coughed weakly as he closed his eyes and tried to ignore the lingering foul taste in his mouth as he initiated a light rest mode. "...Deal."

"Do you need anything else? More ice? Another pillow?" Hank offered as he put his hands to his hips and glanced about the modestly furnished bedroom with a sense of loss of what else he could do. "I got a couple extra blankets stashed around the house somewhere if ya' need 'em."

"No thanks." The cuddly Saint Bernard happily put his chin back down on Connor's left forearm and yawned sleepily as he prepared to nap along with Connor. Keen on what the deviant was feeling Sumo made sure to keep the sick detective company during his recovery. "I'd just like to be left alone for now." Refusing the polite offer Connor felt his stomach churning in protest at the added medicine. "Please."

"Sure, no problem." Quietly Hank took his leave of the bedroom and turned off the overhead light in the process before he walked down the staircase. "Feel better soon, son. I'll be just downstairs watching the news if you need anything."

Too tired to answer Connor just fell into rest mode and kept his hand on Sumo's head in a comforting manner.

As if on autopilot Hank spent the rest of the day consistently checked on Connor's fever just like he used to do whenever Cole had gotten sick in the past. Using the thermal wrap on Connor's left wrist as a guide, as well as his own hand lightly pressing down against the deviant's forehead, Hank kept tabs on Connor's temperature and only disturbed him whenever he needed to take his medicine. The six hour intervals seemed to pass by incredibly slowly for Hank but far too quickly for Connor. The way the Thiricetomal upset Connor's stomach made it increasingly difficult for the ill deviant to get any proper rest or focus his self healing program on his other affected biocomponents.

At six o'clock in the evening, right on the dot, Hank walked into the kitchen, opened up the refrigerator and pulled out the bottle of green medication. The bright green coloration was a little odd and reminded Hank of the bizarre concoctions he had seen villains create in sci-fi movies he used to watch as a kid.

Kneeling down beside the bed Hank whispered the deviant's name as he held the bottle in his right hand. "Connor?"

The deviant's brown eyes opened slowly as he recognized Hank's voice. "...Hank?"

Holding the bottle up for Connor to see Hank gave the deviant an apologetic smirk. "Medicine."

"...Already?"

"You were asleep for six hours, so yeah." Rising from the floor Hank sat down on the edge of the bed and removed the lid from the bottle. "Medicine again already."

Lifting his head up a little from the pillow Connor was pleased to discover that no dizzy spell accompanied him as he moved, and saw that according to the thermal wrap on his left wrist his temperature was starting to slowly drop. "I believe I'm beginning to recover."

"Good. But you still have to drink this shit."

Letting out an annoyed sigh Connor accepted his impending fate. "...I'm aware."

"Sorry, son. Maybe I can convince Abby to make this stuff taste differently so other deviants don't have to keep suffering while already sick."

Too exhausted to reply, Connor didn't say anything as he took a third dose of the medicine and closed his eyes tightly as the loathsome taste filled his mouth against his will. Forcing himself to swallow the vile substance Connor shook his head a little as he handed the medicine back to Hank. "...I don't know what a preferable taste to this could be."

"I'm no expert, but I think anything but antifreeze would be preferable."

"You may be correct." Laying back down Connor didn't want to think about alternate tastes to medication as Hank returned the bottle to the refrigerator down in the kitchen. "I really wouldn't know."

Returning to the bedroom yet again Hank stood in the doorway and gave Connor a simple request. "Now, stay awake."

Such a request seemed completely illogical. "But I am tired."

"Lucas told me what Abby told both of you since she wanted to make sure you'd be okay, and she said for you to NOT go against your normal rest mode cycles." Hank approached the bed to look down at Connor as the deviant rested. "I let you sleep because you were so damn exhausted from throwing-up, but now that you're getting better, I want you to stay awake for me."

"What am I to do if I cannot sleep? I am not cleared to work, and my processors won't allow me to cybernetically work on cases."

"Holy shit. No wonder you got sick! Look, just do what humans do when they get sick, all right?" Doing his best to remain patient Hank pet Sumo's head as he walked over to the foot of the bed and sat down very lightly. "No more thinking about work or cases. Don't think about anything."

"What should I do then?"

"Read a book or watch a movie. That's what I usually do when I'm sick."

"A movie?" Connor asked somewhat confusedly as he slowly sat upright in his bed and turned so his legs were hanging off the edge of the furniture to rest his feet firmly on the floor like normal. Sumo proceeded to rest his chin over Connor's lap and wag his tail when Connor placed his hand atop his head as a result and began to rub his ears gently. "Do you have a recommendation?"

"Yeah, I got one."

Offering Connor his hand, Hank helped the deviant up to his feet and draped the blanket from the foot of the bed around Connor's shoulder while helping Connor walk downstairs and into the study. Hank made sure to grab the empty mop bucket on the way just in case Connor felt sick after moving around. Using the television remote Hank turned on the television and scoured through a list of digitally chronicled movies and selected a favorite that he was sure would hold Connor's attention: A detective movie from the 1980's called 'The Untouchables'.

"This is one of my favorites." Hank stated as he placed the empty bucket down on the floor beside the sofa. "You'll love it, too."

Sitting down on the sofa Connor kept the blanket wrapped around himself and soon had Sumo laying over his legs again after the Saint Bernard followed them down the stairs. "Why's that?"

"It's about detectives and history." Hank cued up the film and then leaned back on the second sofa to rest his back and keep close to the deviant. "Granted some of the history gets exaggerated or omitted, but that doesn't stop it from being a damn good story."

Watching the opening credits of the movie play out on the screen Connor did his best to focus on the story and not his aching stomach as he rubbed Sumo's ears in a gentle rhythm. "I'll take your word on this, too."

The first night of Connor's android-flu ended with the deviant falling asleep across the sofa before the climax of the film and settling into a gentle breathing pattern as his coughing fits seemed to mercifully end. Hank had let Connor rest on the sofa without disturbing him in the process before he went up to Lucas's bedroom to sleep for the night - a suggestion made by Lucas himself. Placing another blanket over the deviant's sleeping form to ensure he was as comfortable as possible, Hank checked on Connor's fever with a gentle palm over the deviant's too warm forehead. His fever was holding static at its current temperature and even in his sleep it was clear Connor was still feeling horrible.

It was nearly six in the morning when Hank was abruptly awoken from his slumber by the sound of Connor being physically sick again and throwing-up in the study. Glad he put down the empty bucket for Connor to use Hank returned to the study and put his hand on Connor's shoulder to help support the sick deviant's weight, and then wrapped his opposite palm around Connor's forehead to check on his fever.

"Shit, son." Patting Connor's back lightly Hank waited for the deviant to finish being sick before doing anything else. "You're burning up!"

"O-Overheating." Spitting the nastiness from his mouth and into the bucket Connor sighed and slumped back against the sofa heavily as Hank pulled his hands back. "...I'm overheating."

"Same thing." Sympathetic to Connor's plight Hank sighed and walked into the kitchen to get the deviant some chilled Thirium and more ice. Picking up both the Thirium and the green tinted medication from the refrigerator then an ice pack from the freezer, Hank returned to the study to tend to his sick friend throughout the early morning hours. "I know you hate it, but you have to drink it."

Giving the green medication an annoyed side-eye Connor felt his already sore stomach turning at the very idea of needing to drink it.

"You slept through your necessary dose at midnight." Reminding Connor that he was on a schedule regarding his medicine Hank held the bottle out toward the deviant to take for himself. "You HAVE to drink this if you want to get better."

Lifting his shaking hand Connor hesitantly took the bottle of medication and closed his eyes as he took the vile tasting dose as expected. The harshness of the medication left a strangely burning sensation all the way down his throat and into his artificial stomach that made Connor curl around himself as if he were about to be sick all over again.

"It's okay, breathe." Hank encouraged as he took back the medicine and forced the chilled bottle of Thirium into Connor's hand in its place. "Drink that, it should help wash away the bad taste and be soothing in your stomach."

Doing again as he was instructed Connor downed the Thirium and didn't stop until the entire bottle was empty. The chilled Thirium seemed to be dousing the mini fire that the medicine had left behind in his artificial stomach and made the pain fade considerably.

"That's good." Taking back the now empty bottle Hank pushed on Connor's shoulder to make him lay down again. Once the deviant was laying flat on his back over the sofa Hank smoothed the ice pack over Connor's still too warm forehead to try to bring down his fever. "Being sick sucks, and having the flu sucks even more."

"...Now I understand why humans create a new flu vaccine every year."

"Yeah, go figure. Humans are capable of doing logical things every once in a while." Hank saw that Sumo had stayed on the sofa and was keeping loyal to Connor even while he was sick. "Good boy." Lightly the senior detective patted Sumo's back while Connor rubbed his chin. "You can't sweat your fever out like humans can but having a giant furry space heater beside you can still be a comforting feeling."

Sumo thumped his tail a few times happily before he stretched out alongside Connor and rested his chin down over the deviant's sore stomach sympathetically.

Parroting Hank's earlier comment Connor closed his eyes and kept his hand on Sumo's neck. "...Good boy."

"Go back to sleep."

"...Y-Yeah. That's the correct course of action." The lack of nightmares from his unusual past life were no longer plaguing him, which made rest mode much easier to engage. Relaxing where he was laying Connor decided to get some more rest as Hank suggested. "I'll do that."

Replacing the blanket over Connor, and now Sumo to keep them both comfortable, Hank sighed and decided it was too early to be up on a day off and keeping Connor awake while exhausted was torturous. "I'll check on you in a couple more hours. Okay?"

Already asleep Connor didn't say anything to the senior detective, to his friend, taking care of him.

"Yeah, okay."

Putting the medicine back into the refrigerator Hank passed by the sofa to return to his own bedroom and smirked at the sight of Connor passed out asleep with Sumo sprawled out beside him.

"See you soon, son. Feel better."

Waking up a second time just before noon, Hank sat upright on his bed, yawned, stretched out his shoulders and rubbed his hand through his messy locks of gray hair that were sticking out in all directions. Rising to his feet Hank grumbled a little as the quiet of the brownstone left him relatively unnerved but quickly fell back into his new routine of taking care of the sick deviant. Walking into the bathroom Hank fished through the first-aid kit beneath the sink, found a thermometer and carried it with him into the study downstairs. Placing the digital thermometer in Connor's mouth and taking the now melted ice pack from the deviant's forehead without rousing Connor from his sleep in the process, Hank returned to the kitchen to put the thawed ice pack back into the freezer.

The senior detective then retrieved the dreaded medicine from the fridge once again to hand over to Connor to take. Just as Hank returned to the study the thermometer 'beeped' and he took it from Connor's mouth to read the number for himself. The high fever was starting to drop and would hopefully break entirely very soon.

"One-hundred point two degrees." Hank noted the lower degree and nodded approvingly. "Much better!"

"Yes, I'm starting to feel better as well." Opening his eyes Connor awoke from his sleep and immediately honed in on the bright green liquid of the dreaded Thiricetomal in Hank's grip. Once more glaring at the bottle of medication, the recovering deviant accepted the bottle and took his next dose right on time without protest. Grimacing openly at the foul taste Connor's brow furrowed in response. "...I still dislike this medication."

"Yeah, but you have to admit it does work. Your temperature's almost back to normal."

"I will admit it, but that doesn't mean I have to like it."

"Smartass."

Capping the bottle Hank made his way back to the kitchen to put the rest of the medicine away. Opening the backdoor Hank let Sumo outside the private property to take of business. The massive dog eagerly jumping off the couch to get outside before he had an accident, then poured fresh food into Sumo's bowl since the senior detective knew to pack up a little bit of everything after Lucas asked for his help.

"You fell asleep before the movie ended last night." Hank shouted from the kitchen as he set about taking care of Sumo. "Want to watch what you missed?"

"Yes." The idea of seeing the story's ending was very appealing to the sick but recovering deviant. "I'd like to see the conclusion after witnessing a very compelling beginning."

"Cool." As he filled up Sumo's water bowl under the tap in the kitchen Hank heard the large dog scramble back inside after taking care of business and closed the door behind him. After putting the water down Hank patted Sumo's back again then strolled into the study casually. "I love this movie. I can watch it every day without getting bored with it."

From the sofa Connor slowly sat upright and wrapped the blue blanket around himself as he glanced about the study and noticed everything Hank had done for him since they returned home the previous afternoon. Not only had Hank made sure he was recovering well from his android-flu, but Hank had made sure Connor was safe and comfortable during his recovery. Everything Hank had done had come from the goodness of his heart, not an order from a higher-up or because he was getting some form of payment. Hank helped Connor because he wanted to help.

Hank really was trying to be a friend.

Watching the senior detective plopping down in the second sofa again Connor wanted to express his gratitude properly. "Hank?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you."

The senior detective gave Connor a small smirk as he realized that he was finally doing things right and making amends with the deviant after all. "It's not a problem."

"Maybe not, but I still want to thank you." Truly gracious and appreciative Connor wanted Hank, his friend, to know how he felt about everything Hank has done for him without asking for anything in return. "You've really helped me, and I suspect that I could have ended up in worse condition due to my own unwillingness to accept my medication as instructed, and without Lucas to watch over me. So, thank you for helping me and essentially saving me from myself."

"You're welcome, son." Appreciative of the thanks in his own way Hank kicked up his feet as he stretched over the second sofa and resumed the movie where Connor had fallen asleep the night before. "Besides, you saved me from myself last winter, so I guess now we're even. Right?"

"Potentially." Understanding what Hank was hinting toward Connor agreed and managed a weak grin of gratitude and amusement just as Sumo returned to the study and sat down beside the sofa requesting some ear rubs and chin scratches, to which Connor readily obliged. "We're almost even."

"Smartass." Chuckling at the witty retort Hank pressed 'play' on the movie and noticed that Connor's complexion was almost back to normal and that he was no longer showing any sign of being nauseated. "If you're still being a smartass then you're definitely on the road to recovery. I'll be sure to let Lucas know the good news so he doesn't worry about you and knows he can come back to the brownstone right as he predicted."

"Do you know if he became infected with the android-flu by being in close proximity to me?"

"He's fine. I talked to him last night after you fell asleep, and he said that he and Bruno are doing just fine. He even told me about the thermometer in your first-aid kit." Hank showed Connor his phone to confirm that he had been keeping Lucas up to date on everything. "Focus on yourself and keep resting, okay?"

"Yes." Agreeing with the simple suggestion Connor settled on the sofa and ran a self diagnostic that confirmed his improving condition. "That's something I can do."

-next chapter-