The following morning was thankfully quiet as the two brothers went about their respective morning routines through the brownstone without a single issue to interfere with their flows. While Lucas made sure his technician's uniform - khaki slacks, white long sleeved shirt and white lab coat - were properly ironed for a professional look in the laundry room, Connor was checking on his healing shoulder in the bathroom up on the second floor. The stab wound had completely healed, and the joint was only slightly stiff due to prolonged inactivity after his arm was secured in a support sling. A few stretches would ease the discomfort without Connor needing to receive any further technical treatment.

Bruno was watching his two deviant guardians with a keen interest from the foot of Connor's bed. The loyal dog knew that even though the "Binary Killer" had been arrested and was currently imprisoned, that both detectives were going to remain guarded for quite some time.

Testing his range of motion and strength, Connor stretched out his left arm to its fullest length straight outward and then raised and lowered his arm steadily. The stiffness began to lessen and with that relief Connor began feeling much better.

"I'm going to the tower." Lucas stated as he walked past the opened bathroom door with his neatly ironed clothes secured on two hangars. As he returned to his bedroom to change his clothing Lucas continued to speak to Connor through the two opened doorways. "You should come with me. At least for a few hours."

"Why would I go to New Jericho?" Exiting the bathroom Connor made his way into his bedroom and changed into a clean black t-shirt and dark jeans. He didn't want to wear his uniform unless he was actively working on a case or speaking with a client. "My shoulder has healed, I didn't endure any bizarre dream sequences last night, and I wasn't summoned by Markus."

"You may not have been summoned, but as a leader I'm inviting you to join me for a while."

"Are you trying to lure me into an emergency repair bay to examine my programming?"

"I won't force you to do anything you do not wish to do." Lucas promised as he stepped out of his bedroom in his perfectly pressed uniform. The lighter colors made his dark hair appear even darker and his green eyes even brighter. "I refuse to behave as CyberLife technicians had behaved."

"I know you do, I'm sorry if I insulted you."

"I'm not insulted, don't worry. Just come with me to the tower for a few hours." Ever protective and supportive of his brothers, Lucas wanted to show Connor that he was merely looking out for him. "It'll do you some good to get away from cases and to not be alone while I'm at the tower."

From Connor's bed Bruno grumbled once as if her had been insulted by the comment.

"Bruno's company is suitable," acknowledging the grumble Lucas did his best to make sure Bruno knew his comment wasn't personal. "but you still need to get away from the brownstone and socialize elsewhere."

Satisfied with the follow-up comment Bruno settled back down and wagged his tail slowly.

"Please?" Insistent on Connor going to the tower alongside him, Lucas refused to give up so easily. "I don't want you to feel alone, especially since I'm not sure when I'll return to the brownstone after I'm in the tower again."

Despite his desire to remain temporarily alone so he could think and process everything he had gone through Connor couldn't deny that the idea of being completely by himself was somehow unsettling. As much as he wanted to sift through his odd memories and feelings Connor couldn't bring himself to say 'no' to Lucas's generous and kind offer. "Very well. This month's rent has been paid and our open cases are closing swiftly. I can spend time at the tower today."

"Thank you, brother." The relief was palpable as Lucas smiled at Connor's response. "We'll be sure to take Bruno to the park tomorrow. That way he won't feel cooped up or forgotten."

Bruno liked that idea and barked happily while remaining cuddled up on Connor's bed. Being able to have the bed all to himself and get some more rest after the previous day's excitement made the loyal dog very happy with the new plans.

With a simple nod Connor pulled a black hoodie from the closet to slip on over his t-shirt and pulled his casual Converse sneakers out to wear in favor of his well worn yet still professional gray uniform boots. Fully dressed for the day Connor let Lucas know he was ready to head out. "Let's go."

The sound of deep and loud snoring filled the small house as Hank slept-in and didn't even bother to react when his alarm went off to try to awaken him. Too tired after everything he had done regarding the "Binary Killer" and handling two divisions at once, Hank didn't want to get up early and workout on his day off. The only thing that managed to rouse the exhausted man was Sumo doing his best to awaken Hank before the Saint Bernard had an accident somewhere inside the house. After getting a cold wet nose against the side of his neck, a warm wet tongue over his cheek and very insistent 'boof' right in his ear, Hank finally woke up and found himself eye to eye with the lovable dog.

Letting out a massive yawn Hank pushed himself upright with one arm, glanced about his bedroom, turned off his screaming alarm and promptly fell back to his side to resume sleeping. Another 'boof' and gentle tugging on the cuff of his pant leg made it impossible to fall back asleep despite his desire to keep resting.

"All right, all right..."

Begrudgingly Hank rose from his bed and slowly followed Sumo down the hallway, into the kitchen and toward the backdoor. Opening the door to let Sumo outside at long last, Hank began to contemplate the pros and cons of letting Sumo use puppy training pads again so he could sleep in a while longer. Noting the time and that he had the rest of the day for himself, Hank decided he'd do exactly what he wanted to do and not give a damn about what other people thought.

"I've been sober for almost two months, haven't had a burger in just as long and have avoided sugar unless it was a life or death situation."

As he watched Sumo trot around the backyard through the window over the kitchen sink Hank decided that he deserved to have a cheat day and enjoy it to the max.

"Fuck it. I'm ordering a massive burger for lunch, going to down it was a large soda, snack on some Chinese takeout before dinner, then have an extra large pizza with the works and an order of tacos for my actual dinner. I worked my ass off and I'm allowed to treat myself, damn it."

After Sumo returned to the kitchen through the backdoor he sat beside his empty bowls and looked up at Hank expectantly.

"Yeah, I'll get ya' taken care of, boy."

The moment the fresh kibble was poured into his bowl Sumo began to gobble it up with a wagging tail. He paid no mind to the fresh water being placed down beside him since he was more hungry than thirsty at the moment.

"Don't eat too much at once. I'm going to be ordering special food for me and I know you'll want a couple bites, just like the good ol' days..."

Sumo paid Hank no mind as his master strode down the hallway feeling good and walked into the bathroom to take a nice, relaxing shower just for the sake of feeling good and refreshed before plopping down on the couch all day long. Now that Hank was in a better mindset and was taking care of himself again, binging on delivery wasn't a huge deal since it was no longer a daily occurrence.

"A hot shower, a good book, three hot meals and an evening watching the Gears sounds just fine to me!"

All of New Jericho Tower seemed to be in a good mood after the news of the "Binary Killer" being identified and arrested the day before had spread like wildfire. The moment Lucas and Connor set foot inside the deviant sanctuary's front lobby they were greeted warmly by Markus himself as the deviant leader approached his allies and friends with a bright smile on his face. It seemed as if Connor's presence had been expected by Markus and he was genuinely welcome for the first time since the night of the Revolution. Passing deviants all politely greeted the two leaders and as well as Connor, as opposed to ignoring him or giving him silent, judgmental glares the moment they laid eyes on him.

Unsure of why everyone was suddenly being suddenly warm and receptive of his presence, Connor didn't say anything about the unexpected behavior. Instead, he chose to focus on his brother and friend, and find a way to explain why he was even in the tower to begin with.

"It's good to see you both." Markus happily greeted the deviant brothers and motioned for them to accompany him to the elevator. It was clear that Markus had something on his mind, and he wanted his friends to join him. "I was hoping that today would be the day you both came to the tower."

"Oh?" Lucas was intrigued as he and Connor entered the elevator to join Markus. Watching as Markus pressed his palm to the control panel Lucas noticed that the gleeful deviant had requested the top floor of the tower - the arboretum. "Is something special happening?"

"More like everything is actually lining up for once without a major hassle."

Unsure of what Markus was talking about Connor glanced over his friend's appearance and detected the faint but distinct aroma of oil paint clinging to his person. The odor was fresh and there were small flakes of oil paint on Markus's fingertips and just under his fingernails. The little clues told Connor what was going on in the arboretum and he now understood why Markus was in such a good mood.

The doors to the elevator parted and the trio stepped into the arboretum in time to hear a good natured laugh as the voice Carl Manfred spoke from somewhere just on the other side of the green garden. It was then Connor realized what Markus was doing and why he was so happy to see both Lucas and himself visiting the tower that day.

Simon was sitting with Carl and learning a few painting techniques from the elderly and skilled artist and had undoubtedly been the one to make Carl laugh. The smudge of red paint running up Simon's cheek explained the source of the laugh and seemed to confirm that the blond technician still needed some tutoring before he'd master the art of brush on canvas.

"Maybe you should start with acrylic and then work your way up to oil." Carl suggested in a playful tone as he handed Simon a clean rag to wipe the paint away. "Oil is pretty messy."

"I've noticed." Smiling as he washed his face Simon admitted that he was very new when it came to painting on canvas surfaces. " I guess I'm still used to helping little ones finger-paint after school."

"Nothing wrong with that."

"Good news." Markus returned to Carl and Simon with Connor and Lucas in tow. "We have everyone here now."

Carl turned to see the two brothers and smiled warmly as their presence. "It's about damn time. We agreed to do this at least once, and I refuse to take 'no' as the answer."

Lucas put his hand on Connor's shoulder for a moment before he removed his white lab coat to drape over a nearby, vacant bench to keep it clean. "I think today is the perfect day to spend time together. It's not often that any of us can find the time to just enjoy a hobby or enjoy spending time with friends."

Agreeing entirely Carl gave the optimistic deviant a kind smile. "What kind of hobbies interest you, Lucas?"

"As of the moment, playing the saxophone, reading and I've made small attempts at painting in my spare time."

"Not bad. A truly open mind seeking new knowledge and skills." Eyeing Connor as the second deviant remained quiet, Carl got a pretty good reading on the silent detective. "As for you, young man, you're a musical soul with the heart of a poet."

Such a comment caught Connor off guard and raised an inquisitive brow in Carl's direction. "...Pardon?"

"Come here for a moment." Turning in his electric wheelchair Carl extended his hand and took hold of Connor's hand to examine the deviant's fingers. The keen-eyed artist spotted small metallic flakes embedded in the building callouses over Connor's fingertips and recognized them immediately. "Yep. Guitarist with a lot of hours given to the craft. I bet you spend a lot of time listening to music and reading, too."

"I do." Taking his hand back Connor scanned his palm and fingertips to locate the evidence Carl had used to learn of his hobbies. "How did you know I listen to music in my free time?"

"Well, no one picks up a guitar and works to master it unless they've heard at least one song that resonated with them. And after that particular person finds that one song, the song that gives them goosebumps or a shiver, they want to find more songs that can give them the same sensation. Tell me, what music do you like?"

Connor was silent for a moment until he realized that Markus and Lucas were setting up some clean canvases to work on, and Simon was too busy removing the remaining red paint from his face to really pay attention. "...Heavy metal."

"Nothing to be ashamed of when it comes to what you like, son. Liking one particular genre over another is nothing to be embarrassed about." Folding his hands neatly over his lap Carl then observed Connor's dark and unassuming clothing and gauged another detail about the deviant. "You also seem like you're still trying to figure out who you really are and where you're going."

"With all due respect, as a detective I find it very illogical and implausible to be unable to figure out my own life."

Smiling with pride Carl nodded a little as wagged a knowing finger at Connor. "There's a difference between knowing your career and your interests, and knowing who you are as a person with a free mind, growing heart and blossoming soul."

"I'm afraid I don't understand your analogy."

"Not an analogy, just life experience. Come over here for a moment." Wheeling himself over to a fresh canvas that he hadn't touched just yet Carl invited Connor to stand in front of the canvas and encouraged him to paint. "The day Markus deviated was the same day I had encouraged him to try painting something completely original, something that didn't exist except within himself." Picking up a brush and an empty pallet, Carl insisted Connor try to do the same. "Now it's your turn."

The very idea was something Connor had no experience with. "You... want me to paint an image that I see inside my mind?"

"I want you to paint what you see inside your heart."

Such a request was as humble as it was confusing. Connor didn't know what to paint or what Carl was expecting, and in return the deviant refused. "...I can't."

"How do you know?" Carl pushed the brush into Connor's hand and let Markus take the pallet from his other hand to fill with some colorful oil paint. "Have you tried painting before?"

"...No." Replying honestly Connor admitted that he hadn't tried painting or anything artistic beyond music. "I have not."

"Then how can you know?"

"I suppose I can't."

"Just try. All you have to do is try."

Staring at the blank white canvas, a twenty-four by twenty-four inch square, Connor tried but failed to preconstruct any image that his heart could theoretically create. Everything remained blank. "I'm not sure where to begin."

"Like this." Turning the brush in his own grip so the handle was facing Connor, Carl let the deviant take it for himself to begin his first art piece. "Now, close your eyes. I don't want you to see the arboretum or the people around you. I want you to just focus on what you're feeling right now and try to give it a physical form."

"Turning emotions into something tangible seems impossible."

"Depends on the emotions and the hands that are trying to create it." With a casual motion Carl waved to the canvas and then neatly folded his hands atop his lap again as he sat back so he could watch Connor's creativity blossom. "Don't worry about someone critiquing it or if it's 'right' or 'wrong', just create the first thing that matches what you're feeling."

Taking in a deep breath Connor accepted the loaded paint pallet from Markus and eyed the wide array of colors that would give him an entire rainbow gradient to use in his creation. Looking at his friends for a moment Connor saw Markus and Simon standing very close to one another as Markus helped Simon learn to paint, and he saw that Lucas was well on his way to painting what could arguably be a masterpiece depicting the Ambassador Bridge glowing over the Detroit River at nighttime.

"Don't worry about them." Carl continued to encourage as he studied Connor closely. "Just close your eyes, let your heart - your instincts - guide you. Don't worry about how it looks or how other people will like it, just create what you want to create."

"...All right, I'll try."

Dipping his brush into the black paint, Connor closed his eyes and pressed the brush to the canvas to create gentle and even strokes. Without really thinking or concentrating on his hand Connor let the brush move about back and forth as if being guided by an unseen force or just on autopilot. Slowly an image began to emerge in black paint, then dark blue and then splashes of red. After ten minutes of painting without opening his eyes or pausing beyond selecting a new color, Connor finish the painting and opened his eyes to observe his creation.

The image that Connor had created left the deviant more confused than ever. "I... don't understand. Why did I create this?"

Carl nodded a little as he observed the image and gave Connor some kind words to contemplate. "Perhaps this image is your subconscious trying to tell you that you have something inside of you that needs to come out."

The image was of Connor himself almost entirely composed of black with highlights of red. He was sitting on the ground in front of a dark blue background, his blackened shadow bearing the striking outline of a wolf just behind him. Connor was sitting with his knees pulled up to his chest, his arms wrapped around his legs and his forehead pressed down against his knees. In one hand he was holding a silver chain that bore a pendant that was reminiscent of a triple spiral Celtic knot, a symbol that Connor had no reason to be connected with, and in his other hand was his own bleeding heart.

It was a striking yet upsetting image to behold.

"What could my subconscious be trying to tell me regarding... this?"

"That's something only you can discover for yourself." Carl was impressed by the deep and somber emotions on display and knew that there was so much more to Connor than being a reclusive detective. He knew that Connor had more to his own existence than Connor realized. "Now, let's try something else."

Looking at the elderly artist beside him Connor seemed to be worried about what the man had in mind. "...Another painting?"

"Yes. Except, I want you to play a song first and then try painting."

"I don't have my guitar with me."

"We have time to wait for you to go and get it. I'll even pay your cab fare."

"That... isn't necessary."

"Maybe not, but I want to hear you play. I want to hear what your heart sounds like."

Connor glanced about the arboretum and decided he'd take the opportunistic out that Carl had given him. He didn't feel comfortable painting, especially since he didn't understand why he painted something so macabre and upsetting. Putting the pallet and brush down on the nearby table of supplies, Connor decided to take his chance for a discreet exit and make his way back to the elevator.

"When you return," Carl called out without drawing anyone's attention toward Connor in the process. "I want to hear you play something original. Music is good for the soul and sparks creativity. It'll help us all paint."

Turning to look back over his shoulder Connor saw that Carl had begun painting on a canvas of his own and seemed entirely confident that Connor would return. The guilt of hiding away while so many people were so excited to see him kept Connor from going through with his initial plan of hiding out at the brownstone, and he knew that he'd to return with his guitar as promised.

"...Very well." Entering the elevator Connor pressed his palm to the control panel to descend to the ground floor. "I'll return as soon as I can."

The day of chilling in his house with no one bothering him with phone calls, reports, e-mails, meetings or field assignments felt like paradise. Sprawled out over the couch Hank finished reading his favorite book and closed it with a hearty 'thump' before he rose from the couch with numerous crumbs falling from his shirt as he carried the book back to the shelf to returned to its rightful place. It had been years since he felt so relaxed and like he could truly be his own person inside his own home without any judging him or lecturing him on his behavior. One day of laying around and eating whatever he wanted wasn't an issue, but daily self indulgence or neglect would be a problem.

With Sumo essentially in a good coma on his pillow in the corner of the room, Hank was feeling good and couldn't wait for his next big meal. He had given Sumo a few scraps to eat since the old Saint Bernard doesn't have a massive life expectancy, so it felt right to let him indulge on the cheat day as well.

"Too bad that old bookstore still isn't around."

Hank lamented as he returned to the couch and dropped down on the cushion with a heavy plop. It was amazing how a day of doing nothing was all it took for someone to recharge their batteries and recover from numerous stressful days at work.

"I'm glad the boys have their own place and fixed up that brownstone into a functioning building again, but man, I miss wandering through that place and picking through old books back when it was still a store."

Sumo grumbled a little in his sleep before rolling over from his side to lay on his back with his paws curling up in the air above himself. The old dog loved it when he was given some treats and loved his afternoon naps even more.

"I wonder what those two do when they're not working on cases? For some reason I can't imagine Connor taking any time off or Lucas not worrying about other people. Any Sydney... Fuck I know what that guy is thinkin'."

With a simple press of the remote Hank turned on the television and began looking for something interesting to watch. It didn't take him long to hone in on an old movie and find himself immediately interested in the plot. It wasn't often he had the chance to read a good book, let alone get invested in a movie without something stealing his attention.

"Maybe someday I'll work up the nerve to try to talk to them again like civil people, not just detectives working together to solve cases."

Leaning back against the pillow under his shoulders Hank sighed and turned up the volume on the movie. It was just another thing to get lost in and enjoy to its fullest without needing to worry about work.

"Then again, maybe someday I'll be promoted to Captain and actually get a precinct of my own. Fat fuckin' chance of that happening..."

By the time Simon had finally managed to create something without getting covered in paint in the process, Connor had returned to the arboretum with his green guitar slung over his shoulder down his back and a mini amplifier in his grip. The sight of the numerous paintings created by his friends and brother during his absence were far brighter, livelier and far less bleak than his own image that he had left behind. It was impressive to see the vast array of varying images, each one depicting something that was representative of their creators. The only thing the images had in common was the paint used and the canvases and brushes provided. The display of unique perspectives and self identities was a testament to how deviants were in fact alive.

Approaching Carl as the older man applied a generous amount of blue pigment over what appeared to be a group of people standing together over the surface of his own canvas, Connor cleared his throat and presented Carl with the guitar. With the pick already in his grip Connor let the older man know he was ready to play a song.

"I knew you'd be back." Carl grinned as he turned in his wheelchair. Motioning to the nearby marble bench Carl invited Connor to sit and play. "Now, let's hear what kind of song gives your soul some life."

"I'm... not sure if I can play any song like that at the moment." The unsettling painting that he had created had made the deviant worry he was harboring something dark and destructive inside of his own heart. "It might be inappropriate."

"Only one way to find out. Go on, young man. Play whatever you feel like."

Glancing about Connor noticed that Lucas was watching him curiously, but he wasn't saying or doing anything that indicated any form of pressure. Taking in a deep breath Connor sat down on the nearby marble bench beside Lucas's lab coat, placed the amplifier down on the grass beside his ankle, plugged in his guitar and turned everything on. After testing the volume on the amplifier first Connor then slowly brought the pick down the perfectly tuned strings and began to strum rhythmically.

The song sounded bleak and melancholy, but there was a hint of hope behind the chords as Connor began to play a song from his heart. It was a slow song with notes that seemed to reflect the personal feeling of lowness that Connor was experiencing in that moment. As he played his song Connor felt like his fingertips and the guitar's strings had become one in the same.

Lucas put down his brush and took two steps toward Connor before deciding to join him in the little concert. With a discreet exit Lucas made his way to the elevator to return to his personal quarters for only a moment to retrieve something important.

Markus remained where he stood before his own canvas, although his attention was now fixated on Connor and his song. It had been months since he found the time to sit down and play the piano or get lost in the solace from music. He was suddenly envious of Connor having his guitar and longed for the chance to press his fingertips to the cold surface of the aged ivory keys of the piano with the sitting room at Carl's home.

It seemed that Simon had read Markus's mind and knew what he wanted. Remaining as discreet as Lucas had been, Simon walked to the elevator and left the arboretum for a few minutes.

With his eyes closed Connor didn't think about what he was playing, he just played. It was somehow soothing, like pressing a cool balm against a raw burn.

Carl watched the way Connor was playing his guitar and watched how his hands gracefully caressed the strings without the slightest misplacement or hesitation. It was fascinating to see how the deviant was able to express himself, to showcase how deep the feelings in his heart flowed, without saying a word.

The doors to the elevator parted as Lucas and Simon returned to the arboretum together. Lucas had his saxophone in his hands and Simon had located an electronic keyboard tuned to mimic the notes and keys of a grand piano. While Simon set up the keyboard and invited Markus over to play, Lucas joined his brother on the marble bench and proceeded to play his saxophone in the appropriate notes and keys to blend his song into Connor's own melody. With the keyboard set up Markus placed the instrument down just before himself as he sat on the bench next to Lucas and joined in without missing a note.

Opening his eyes for a moment Connor noticed that he had company and did so without missing a note. Letting his eyes slip shut again Connor continued to play his song and didn't mind having other people join in. Having the attention spread over three deviants instead of just himself helped Connor to find a sense of confidence as he continued to play his guitar.

As for Carl and Simon, they were just enjoying the free concert and becoming enveloped in the song. It was incredible to see how all three deviants were able to combine their three different instruments into a single melodious union.

One guitar, one saxophone and one piano were enough to fill the arboretum with a sense of song and life with very little effort and raw talent.

Despite the game being exciting and full of energy, Hank found himself feel tired and too comfortable on the couch to even make an attempt to get up. A day of indulgence was coming to an end and Hank had no regrets. The chance to just do what he wanted, when he wanted for whatever reason that he wanted was impressively liberating for the senior detective. It was a reminder that he was still living his life while off the clock and he was still functioning member of the precinct when he was back on the clock. The day doing whatever he wanted also ended with the gruff Lieutenant still completely sober without the slightest temptation to drink ever rearing its ugly head. Hank was clean, sober and he was going to remain as such.

Turning off the television Hank let out a satisfying grunt as he stretched out his shoulders and looked at the mostly empty pizza box sitting on the coffee table before him. He had definitely indulged on his cravings and decided it'd be best to take preventative measures against any heartburn in the morning.

Picking up the box Hank flipped the lid closed and carried it into the kitchen to have it stored in the refrigerator to keep for later. Cleaning up the remaining takeout containers and wiping away the crumbs from the countertops and tables, Hank did his best to make it look like he hadn't torn into his food like a grizzly bear finding an unprotected meal at a national park.

"Man, I should take another shower before I go to bed."

The amount of grease on his hands was a little laughable. He didn't make a huge mess while eating, but the aftermath seemed to say otherwise.

"And take a couple of anti-acids to prevent 'dragon breath' in the morning."

Returning to the livingroom Hank turned off the overhead light in the livingroom and gave Sumo's head a gentle pat. The massive dog was in his own mini food coma since he happily indulged on the offered treats, but he managed to slowly wag his tail in his sleep as he felt Hank's fingers gently carding through his fur.

"Good boy. Hopefully you won't get heartburn either."

As he made his way into the bathroom Hank looked at his reflection in the mirror and stared at the various post-it notes that dotted the mirror's frame. Each positive self affirmation now seemed comical to the seasoned detective, and Hank no longer felt like he needed them in his life.

One by one Hank plucked the notes from the mirror like the petals from a flower. Letting the notes fall into the trashcan beside the sink Hank felt like he was finally free of his past vices and was starting to overcome his inner darkness. He didn't need to rely on booze to keep the painful feelings and memories away, he didn't need to have someone hovering over him to make sure he was taking care of himself, and he didn't need any little positive affirmations to keep him on the right track.

Hank was doing just fine on his own.

"Surprised the cheap glue on those damn things managed to stick to the mirror so long."

Laughing at the colorful notes resting in the trashcan Hank turned on the shower and adjusted the temperature to an ideal degree. Stripping off his clothes Hank stepped into the shower and proceeded to shower off the relaxing day so he could go to bed without needing to worry about waking up covered in grease or crumbs by mistake.

"Then again, with all the cheap booze I was using to poison myself with, I'm surprised I managed to stick around so long too."

As the sun set in the distance the arboretum began to lose its natural light and become steadily darker until the automated solar lights kicked on. With the peaceful day coming to an end Markus decided it was time to take Carl back to the mansion to rest without David worrying about him, and proceeded to start packing up the extra canvases, paints and brushes to take back to the mansion. While Simon made sure Carl had everything that he had brought with him, Connor and Lucas made sure the three instruments were all properly stored as well. It was interesting how Carl had special cases to secure his supplies for safekeeping, yet Connor and Lucas carried their instruments about without such cases. That was something that could be easily remedied with one stop at the local music store.

Just as it seemed everything was over and it was time to say goodbye, Carl had one last idea and was determined to see it through. Wheeling over to Connor as the deviant eyed his dark painting with a pained grimace, Carl put his hand on Connor's arm and gave him a knowing glance.

"Now that you've been able to see what your heart has been hiding, it's time for you to see what your heart wants to show."

Looking to Carl for further guidance Connor gave the older man a truly perplexed gaze. "...Another painting?"

"Just one more." Motioning to the supplies that hadn't been packed just yet Carl encouraged Connor to create one final painting. "Believe me, you'll be amazed at what you can accomplish when you stop worrying about what other people think and start focusing on what you know you can do."

The wisdom made Connor's brow arch as he realized that Carl's words came from years of experience, and the sage artist was trying to be a comforting presence. It was strange to have anyone, human or deviant, be kind to Connor in any capacity. Being welcomed to the tower, being invited to join in on a day of leisurely activities and then being spoken to with respect and understanding all seemed too good to be true.

"I assure you that if you do this, you'll discover more about yourself then you ever thought possible as just a talented detective. All you have to do is try."

Out of respect for Carl and all of his kindness Connor agreed to one final painting. Placing his guitar and amplifier down on the bench once more Connor rolled up his hoodie sleeves and grabbed one of the last blanks canvases from their neatly stack pile and placed it on an easel. Opening the case of paint and brushes Connor filled a small pallet with a small amount of three colors and stared at the blank surface for just a moment.

"Just as before. Close your eyes and just let whatever you feel come to the surface. Give your feelings an image."

Lucas stood back and watched as his brother began to create his next painting and didn't say a word. The bleaker painting hadn't escaped his attention, but he didn't want to bring it up as he knew that Connor was still dealing with some error in his programming. As far as Lucas was concerned, Connor was simply putting the strange emotional reactions he was experiencing courtesy of the error into an image that'd help them in finding and removing said error before it caused significant damage to his system.

Slowly an image began to manifest in black and blue paint under Connor's command. Without stopping or looking Connor managed to create a striking image with just a few key brushstrokes and give the people around him insight into the feelings, thoughts and overall emotions he just couldn't put in to words. As he painted Connor unknowingly created an audience in the form of his brother and friends who had all gathered to admire his work as it came to fruition.

"See what I mean?" Carl grinned as he watched Connor's brush lower away from the finished image now being displayed. The sharp contrast between the first image from the second image was absolutely striking. "Your heart is trying to tell you something, and now that you're expressing yourself you'll be able to hear it."

Connor opened his eyes and gazed at his creation. Instead of an image of hopelessness and sorrow, the image was one of actual hope. It seemed arguably impossible for one person to create two drastically opposing images and concepts.

"Did I... really paint this?"

"You did." The elderly artist praised with genuine enthusiasm. It was clear that Carl was a man who loved to watch people blossom and become people who are so much greater than they give themselves credit for. "As I stated before, a musical soul with the heart of a poet."

The second image showed Connor silhouetted in black standing tall and almost proud in front of a dark blue sky of thousands of tiny white stars. Unlike the first image where Connor was sitting alone with his heart in his hand, he was standing among the stars with two people on either side of him. One person was slightly taller than Connor and had their arm draped around his shoulder as in proud of the deviant, and the other person was slightly smaller than Connor and holding his hand in their own as if they loved and trusted him. There was a faint outline of a wolf's shadow at Connor's feet and the same Celtric knot was concealed in the center of the three figures' solid black chests.

The image was simple in execution but complex in its underlying message.

"I still don't know what this means." The admission was sad but Connor's voice wasn't heavy. His tone was more curious than upset. "Why do I keep putting these symbols in my imagery?"

"That's something only you can discover for yourself."

Nodding in confirmation Connor looked to Carl and gave him a very faint grin. "Thank you."

"It was my pleasure. You keep playing your guitar and protecting your people and my son." Looking over at Markus as his aforementioned son stood behind his chair, Carl made it clear where he stood when it came to human and deviant alliances. "This world needs more openminded, open hearted and compassionate souls running it. We've had more than enough apathetic, bigoted and coldhearted fools destroying this world as it is."

"Come on, dad." Markus patted Carl's shoulder while Connor packed up the remaining art supplies and returned them to their rightful places inside the case. The other canvases were being carried under Markus's arm for simplicity's sake. "It's time to get you home so David doesn't fret about your medication tonight."

"Only if you stay with me for a round of chess." Agreeing to head for home Carl took the case and placed it over his lap while Markus pushed him toward the elevator doors to take his leave of the tower. Despite his age Carl wasn't one to lose energy quickly or call it an early night. "David's a fine player, but you're more fun."

Standing before his newly created image for a while longer Connor tried to understand the unusual symbolism that his heart had created through his hands. The dark colors were reminiscent of dark emotions, but the bright white stars dotting the sky seemed to convey the light of hope breaking through that very darkness. Being accompanied by people of whom he seemed to trust and care about Connor was far more appealing compared to the isolation of himself in the first image, yet the shadow of the wolf and the Celtic knot was present in both images.

The evidence of Connor's heart and conflicting internal emotions was undeniable. Something was happening to the deviant's heart whether he wanted it or not.

"Brother?" Lucas stood beside Connor while Simon politely took his leave of the arboretum to give the duo some privacy. The blond technician had a keen ability to determine when it was time to give other people some space, and promptly took care of the keyboard in Markus's stead. "Are you going to be okay?"

"I... I'm not entirely sure." Observing his work for a moment longer Connor sighed then placed the first image on a vacant easel beside the second image to compare them more closely. There was nothing new to be discovered, and yet as a detective Connor knew there was in fact something there. "But I do believe that before my year is over, everything will be all right."

-next chapter-