WARNING:

Chapter deals with child abuse and child death. Please skip if you cannot handle reading such a scenario and refer to the TL;DR included at the very bottom of the chapter for a summary of said chapter without the upsetting details.

Exhausted and covered in a mixture of dirt, mud and various garbage fluids, Connor returned to the brownstone and proceeded to contact his most recent client regarding his successful case. The search for a missing "YK-600" had ended happily when Connor was able to trace the missing deviant child to an abandoned elementary school playground and discovered that she had run away from her home to hide because her human neighbor threatened to run her over with his car if he ever saw her outside. After Connor was able to convince the child that she was safe at home and that her parents, also deviants, would never let her neighbor hurt her, he was able to talk her into climbing out of her hiding spot inside the filthy dumpster and go with him back to the brownstone.

After a tearful reunion with her parents the little deviant, Sabrina, thanked Connor for being so kind to her and held on to her father, Paul, for dear life despite being covered in filth and seriously needing a bath. Sabrina's mother, Francine, had been the one to hire Connor and was currently hugging the equally filthy detective while also cybernetically sending him the funds for his hard work in locating her beloved daughter.

"I don't know how we can ever thank you enough!" Francine blurted as she kept her arms around Connor's neck. She had tears streaming down her face and wasn't afraid to show her gratitude. "You found our daughter and brought her back to us!"

"I was just doing my job." Connor replied humbly as Francine finally let up on the hug and took a step back. He didn't mind the hug, but he did mind accidentally getting his clients dirty with the filth from his own clothing. "I'm happy to help out whenever I can."

"Don't be so modest! I just... Thank you!" Wiping her tears from her bluish purple eyes, Francine gave Connor a truly grateful smile. "I don't know what we would've done if we lost our little girl."

"I take it you three have been together since the Revolution."

"Longer than that." Francine walked over to Paul and gave her bondmate a kiss before giving Sabrina a kiss on her dirty cheek. "I had been trapped at the 'Eden Club' for three long years under the name 'Frost' before Paul helped me escape. He was one of the maintenance crews at the club and he recognized it when I deviated after he deviated too."

"You two escaped the club together and went into hiding."

"Yeah. And when Paul went out in search of Thirium one night he found Sabrina abandoned in an alleyway. He had to save her, and I couldn't bear the thought of turning my back on a helpless little girl in need of a loving home. We nursed her back to health, and well... We've been a family ever since!"

"It's good that you found each other and created a family of your own." The notion of families being found, reunited and created seemed to give Connor a strangely warm and comforting feeling in his chest. It was like a someone was giving his heart a metaphorical hug. "Please continue to take care of each other and support one another. As for your neighbor..."

"Don't worry about that." Paul spoke up with a Devilish grin on his face. "We live in a neighborhood with an established H.O.A., and as deviant residents we are far more familiar with the neighborhood rules than he is. All we have to do is report his multiple property infractions and he'll be forced to move after all of the fines threaten to deplete his savings. It might be cruel to force an old man from his own home but threatening the life of an innocent child just because she was born different is twice as cruel compared to a few fines and a possible relocation."

"I can't say that you're wrong about that. I hope that you're able to find a way to feel safe inside your own home without worrying about ignorant threats from equally ignorant bigots."

"We'll never give up on hope." After giving Connor a hearty handshake Paul tightened his grip around Sabrina, who was still wrapped around his neck and shoulders, and opened the door for Francine. "You're a good detective and a great deviant. We'll make everyone knows how you helped us and saved our family today."

Connor watched as his clients left his brownstone and let out a disgusted sigh. Despite his emotional high he still felt physically filthy thanks to all of the grime clinging to and attempting to stain his clothing. Shrugging off his trench coat and removing his fedora, Connor decided it was time for a load of laundry despite it only being noon and he'd undoubtedly have yet another case to handle before calling it a night.

"I believe you picked the ideal day to train the new technicians at New Jericho." Setting up a cybernetic and verbal link with Lucas out at the tower Connor kept his little brother in the loop regarding matters at the brownstone. "I've just finished my sixth case today."

'Six cases already?' Lucas's surprise was carried perfectly over the private link as he communicated with Connor from afar. 'That has to be a personal record.'

"It is, and the day isn't over yet." Carrying his clothing into the laundry room Connor placed his coat inside the washer and then did the same for the fedora before removing his gray blazer, gray vest, black tie and the white dress shirt beneath. "How are you and Bruno doing out at the tower?"

'We're excelling with training the new technicians and aiding the deviants in need of therapy. It seems Bruno thrives with positive attention and being able to protect those who feel frightened.'

"It was a good idea to encourage Simon to take over the therapy sessions during Josh's banishment. I suspect Bruno agrees as well." Removing his shoes, socks and jeans next, Connor sighed as he threw everything but the tie inside the washer and poured in a generous amount of detergent for hygiene's sake. "Although, I will admit not having Bruno's tracking software today is stark reminder of how valuable K-9 units are to the police force."

'Need some help?'

"No, I have everything under control." With the washer now filling and softly humming Connor walked to the second floor to shower off and remove all traces of dirt and garbage from his person. "I'll just need to purchase additional clothing in the event of becoming... contaminated while on a case."

'What types of cases have you handled today?'

"The first case revolved around a Thirium heist." Connor replied as he turned on the shower to warm up before stepping inside. "Two human thieves broke into a Digital Sentience store and stole the store's newest delivery to attempt to resell on the black market. I was able to follow their trail quiet easily after I noticed they failed to properly secure their ill-gotten gains and were unaware that Thirium was actively leaking from the back of their van. A quick call to the police allowed me to return the stolen goods to the store with no physical confrontation."

'That's very good. What of the other five cases?'

"The second and third cases were in fact one in the same. A domestic dispute and misunderstanding between two deviants led to one running off to think while the other came to me for help." The clean, warm water quickly washed away the grime all over Connor's person and thankfully neutralized the garbage stench that had unfortunately clung to his clothing and hair. "While I was searching for the runaway deviant, she actually approached me after recognizing me as a detective and asked me for help in finding her partner after she returned to their apartment and discovered him missing. When I learned of her partner's name, I realized what was happening and easily reunited them at the brownstone and encouraged them to speak to one another rather than run off."

'It seems as if communication is something that those particular deviants should work on.'

"Agreed."

'What of the fourth case?'

"A homeless deviant had been found lurking in the ruins of Jericho out in the harbor." Working some shampoo through his hair Connor made sure to be thorough enough to remove any and all traces of his journey through alleyways and dumpsters away from his body. "After I maneuvered through the twisted interior wreckage of the ship, I was able to talk her into accepting my help and going to one of the smaller shelters in the city for assistance. If she does arrive in New Jericho Tower later on, I know that you, Markus and Simon will be able to aid her."

'Undoubtedly.' Lucas was relieved to know that his oldest brother could handle so many cases while alone. The guilt of being so far away was becoming more frequent as the young deviant struggled to juggle his numerous responsibilities one day at a time. 'And your final two cases?'

"The fifth case was far less upsetting. An elderly lady had lost her android cat and was worried that it had been struck by a vehicle." Deactivating his artificial skin and his hair Connor let the water rinse of his bare plastimetal frame for a true sense of absolute cleanliness before he turned off the water. In the meantime, he was going to enjoy the warmth of the shower helping him to relax. "I was able to locate her cat in a tree in her own backyard. The cat's power cells had worn-out and need to be replaced, but otherwise the cat is entirely fine."

'Perhaps it's a good thing Bruno didn't accompany you in your search for the android cat. He may have had an unexpected reaction.'

"Agreed." Turning off the water Connor grabbed a nearby towel and used it to dry off his frame carefully before reactivating his artificial skin and his hair. With the towel wrapped around his waist he walked into his bedroom across the hallway and located clean clothes to wear in place of his uniform. "The final case thus far involved a missing deviant child. I was able to locate her hiding in a dumpster and reunite her with her parents."

'A dumpster? How unfortunate.'

"A surprisingly full dumpster, too. Which is why I just showered and have thrown all of my clothing into the washer to be properly cleaned and disinfected." Slipping on a plain black t-shirt, dark jeans and his black Converse in place of his usual gray boots, Connor appeared far more casual than he preferred while on the clock. "Anything interesting at New Jericho that I should be wary of?"

'The only new developments revolve around interning technicians, Simon taking over the group therapy sessions and Skye officially passing the bar to become the world's very first deviant attorney.'

"Those are all very positive developments. Perhaps we should do something to help commemorate these accomplishments and everyone involved."

'That's an interesting idea, but I fear that schedule constraints would make such a feat nearly impossible to pull off.'

"Nearly, but not entirely."

'I'll see if I can talk Markus and Simon into participating in such an event. I doubt that they'll go for it since they're both constantly preoccupied with matters pertaining to the tower, but I'll do what I can.'

"Thanks. When will you and Bruno return to the brownstone?"

'I cannot say for certain. There's still a lot of work to do and we're sorely needed here.'

"Yes, of course. I'll see you when you're able to get away."

'I'll return as soon as I can. Until then, take care of yourself, brother.'

"You do the same."

After ending the line of communication Connor decided it'd be best to remain alert in the event that more cases and clients came his way. He hadn't heard anything from Chloe or Kamski regarding CyberLife and his supposed connections to their darkest secrets, and the other "RK" models hiding in the forest hadn't mentioned needing any assistance or reported any potential threat heading their way. It seemed everything important that was happening in Detroit was going to find its way over to Connor's doorstep whether he was expecting it or not.

The rare lull in activity at the Central Precinct was rudely interrupted when a missing child report came through the bullpen. Patrol had been dispatched in an attempt to locate the missing infant, no more than two months old, and those remaining in the precinct were doing their best to console the missing child's distraught parents. Whenever such a case came in it was always shifted to all-hands-on-deck considering the fragility of the missing child and the potential risk of child trafficking making it virtually impossible for the parents to be reunited once the child is beyond city limits or even country borders. With time of the essence regarding the missing child, stress was high, and the air was so tense that it actually felt difficult to walk through the bullpen.

The child's mother, a young lady barely nineteen years of age, was bawling her eyes out with her own parents at her sides trying to comfort her and was hiding away inside an interview room. In between her sobs she'd tell Gavin her story, show him photos of her missing daughter on her phone and tell him every little detail she could think of that might help the police locate her child.

As for the child's father, a young man in his mid-twenties, he was being entirely stoic and silent as he sat in Captain Fowler's office while staring off into the distance. He hadn't said much beyond his daughter being missing and didn't seem like he'd be able to say anything more.

"I hate dealing with missing kids." Hank muttered as he prepared to take the father, Donavon Tophet, into interrogation. It was standard procedure to speak to those who are the closest to the victims to eliminate and weed out suspects as efficiently as possible. "Any word on this guy's parents?"

"Not yet." Ben confirmed as he read over his tablet regarding the paternal grandparents of the missing infant. "Looks like they're vacationing in the Bahamas and are willing work a virtual meeting into their schedule to cooperate with the police."

Such an indifferent response made an angered heat rise up on the back of his neck. "How long have they been out of the country?"

"Starting today, nine days."

"And when was the last time the baby was seen?"

"Little Camille was last seen this very morning at four o'clock by her mother for her early morning feeding." Ben confirmed as he read over the mother's report. "She said the baby monitor had been unplugged and she woke up at just after eight this morning, later than usual for her since she didn't get woken up by Camille crying again. That's when she found the crib empty and the window in the baby's room wide open. The blanket and stuffed rabbit that was in the crib with the baby are all missing too."

"Sounds like the Tophet grandparents aren't suspects since they're out of the country, and it sounds like they couldn't care less that their only granddaughter is missing since they're in no hurry to get back to the States."

"According to Maya Kendis, the mother in case you didn't know, her future in-laws don't approve of the fact that she and Donovan had a baby out of wedlock, really don't like the fact that the Kendis family isn't made of money and were actually insulted that the baby was born a girl and not a boy. They never visited after the baby was born, barely talk to Donovan and have refused to be at the wedding in a few months because they don't support it. That leaves the Kendis grandparents as the sole supporters of this small family."

"Fan-fuckin'-tastic. More proof that having all the money in the world can't buy class."

"How do you want to handle this?"

"You take the Kendis grandparents aside for some questioning, let Reed keep talking to Ms. Kendis and I'll handle talking to Mr. Tophet."

"Good luck with that." Ben knew that the father had been far less talkative and didn't know how Hank would get a reaction. "He's been as quiet as a rock since he got here."

"Can ya' blame him? His only child went missing, his own parents don't seem to give a shit and there's nothing he can do about it."

"Not at all. Let's just hope we make some progress before too long."

"Right." Rubbing his palm over his bearded chin Hank eyed the young father through the transparent wall of Captain Fowler's private office Hank mentally and emotionally steeled himself for the impending conversation. "I'll see if I can get him to open and talk about what happened this morning. It might jog a few details he didn't think to mention earlier."

Walking toward the private office door Hank knocked twice to let Captain Fowler know he was ready to talk to Donovan. Seeing his commanding officer nod and then speak to Donovan confirmed that he was passing the message along to the distraught father. When Donovan rose from his seat Hank saw his legs shake and could see through the transparent door that the man looked horrified and lost at the same time.

Hank took a step back from the door and waited for Donovan to exit the office under his own power. Once the young man was outside the office Hank lowered his voice as he directed Donovan away from the interview room and over to interrogation according to protocol. He hated having to interrogate the frightened and grieving loved ones of reported victims, but it was necessary in order to get all of the details revolving around the case itself correct.

"All right, Mr. Tophet. I'm Lieutenant Anderson and I'm going to ask you a few questions about what happened this morning." Explaining everything as they walked Hank kept his tone compassionate and understanding as he led Donovan to the first available interrogation room. "You have the right to ask for an attorney to be present at all times if you so wish."

"...No." Donovan sounded broken and completely lost as he entered the room with Hank right behind him. "I don't want one."

"Okay. If you change your mind just say so, and we'll stop the questions until an attorney arrives. If you can't afford an attorney, then one will be provided for you. Do you understand?"

"...Yes. I understand."

"Okay." The senior detective watched Donovan slowly sit down in the chair at the table and then took the second chair facing Donovan for himself. Glancing at the observation window to his side Hank nodded once as he knew that Captain Fowler was already on the other side of the one-way mirror recording the interrogation for official documentation and records. "Now, let's start from the beginning. I know it'll be hard to do, but we need to know everything that happened."

Donovan was quiet for a moment longer as he stared blankly at the table before himself and kept his hands clutched together into tight fists atop his lap. He swallowed once as he found his voice and began to finally speak. "...Maya came to bed after feeding the baby and went right to sleep. It was really early in the morning, like... four or something."

"Okay." Those details were lining up so far, and Hank wanted to make sure everything else did the same. "What happened after that?"

"I fell asleep too. The next thing I remember is Maya screaming from the baby's room. I went to see what was wrong and that's when she told me that the baby was missing."

"That's when you called the cops."

"Yeah. We... didn't know what to do."

"There's nothing much you can do when something like this happens. Now, I have to ask, when's the last time you saw Camille?"

"...Last evening. No, it was night." Donovan seemed to be having trouble keeping track of the time and was very edgy. "Maya finished feeding her, bathing her and gave her a diaper change before putting her in the crib by ten o'clock."

"All right, what's your daily routine like?" Hank was taking notes for the sake of detailing the family's lifestyle and pinpointing any form of motivation behind the abduction. "Work, hobbies, any kind of scheduling at all that could help us."

"I, uh, I go to work at nine every morning and come home at seven every night. Factory work, you know?"

"Explains the long shifts. You work how many days a week?"

"Six. The factory's closed on Sundays."

"Damn, sounds exhausting. Only one day to see your fiancé and child must be Hell."

"Exhausting doesn't begin to describe it. All day I work, all evening I stop by the store to pick up diapers, formula and cheap food, then all night I listen to Maya talk about the baby and planning the wedding, and all morning I listen to the baby crying and Maya giving me a list of things to do before giving me a kiss on the way out the door. I don't sleep much anymore."

"And what does Maya do all day?"

"She takes care of the baby, plans the wedding and does some consultant work online." Donovan looked completely frustrated by everything he was going through. "She's been working on her degree too through online schooling, but it's hard to make ends meet."

"I know what you're talking about. Do you have anyone to help you two out?"

"Maya's mom does a lot of shopping for us. You know, groceries and baby stuff. She'll even stop by the house and cooks for Maya and give her the chance to catch up on her studying while watching the baby for her. And her dad's the one who bought us the house to live."

"Anyone else?"

"My parents cut me off financially, called me a disappointment and told me to never speak to them again until I come to my senses, marry someone more in line with the Tophet lineage and produce a grandson as a proper heir." Placing his hands down on the table Donovan took in a shaking breath and resisted the urge to slam his fists down over the surface in frustration. "My brother won't talk to me, and my sister tries, but she can't risk being cut off financially too."

"Friends?"

"When I lost my cash my 'friends' bailed on me, and when they found out I took a factory job they pretend I don't exist. Maya's friends help whenever they can, but they're also in college and don't have much money or time to do much."

"This is going to sound strange, but, do you have any enemies?"

"Just my parents and their desire to maintain a specific image."

"So no one's threatened you or Maya, or made weird comments about Camille?"

"No. It's not like we go anywhere with the baby anyway. We're trapped in that house until we finally save up enough money for some changes."

"Sounds like you're pretty stressed out with everything happening."

"Yeah. That's all I know these days. One night with a broken condom ended with-" Tears began to roll down Donovan's face as he admitted how he felt. Being isolated from his loved ones while working himself into an early death just to make ends meet had left Donovan feeling like he wasn't in control of anything anymore. "I was able to sleep in this morning because the baby wasn't crying. And that... was the best sleep I've had in almost a year!"

Hank heard the shame in Donovan's voice and decided to take a break. "Okay, that's enough for now. Sit here, try to rest and keep thinking about anything that might help us figure out what happened. I'll bring you some water."

Donovan nodded frantically as Hank left the room to give him some space to process everything he's been through. Being able to admit how he truly felt had been a freeing experience and he was finally able to let some of his building stress out.

"Son of a bitch." Swearing in empathetic frustration Hank put his hands to his hips and turned to look at Captain Fowler as the commanding officer stepped out of the neighboring room to meet him in the corridor. "Why do I get the feeling that this was an opportunistic abduction? A young couple struggling to juggle their future with an unexpected baby and familial disputes would be too damn tired to hear anyone forcing open a window in the middle of the night."

"We'll have Ben's team sweep the property again to make sure any and all fingerprints are found around the window, and we'll look for shoe prints in the ground around the side of the property."

"Why not ask for Connor to help?" The suggestion seemed too obvious to not mention. "The kid was able to trail the 'Binary Killer's' shoe prints for several blocks before the trail went cold. And he can see what human eyes can't see."

"Good idea. Give him a call and I'll give him clearance to sweep the property alongside Ben."

"Right." Pulling his phone from his pocket Hank scrolled through his contacts and hoped to gain an edge during the investigation. "If anyone can help us find a trail to lead, it'll be him."

Just as he had anticipated Connor knew that his day wouldn't end with just six cases and was ready to go back out into the city to aid with the search for the missing infant. Having to forego his usual uniform Connor settled on wearing a black hoodie over his t-shirt and made sure to keep the hood down so the responding officers and investigators at the scene of the reported abduction wouldn't try to force him to leave or interfere with his assistance in the investigation. Using an autonomous cab to arrive at the scene Connor managed to walk through the holographic police tape without it alerting the other investigators, a clear sign that Captain Fowler had already approved his presence, and located Ben checking the outside of the house right beside the opened window leading to the baby's room.

Connor held his head high as he joined Ben by the window and observed his work. The seasoned investigator had taken numerous photographs of the window inside and out, and was carefully watching his own footing to prevent potential contamination of the shoe prints on the grass outside the one story home. If anyone had opened the window from the outside, then they would've undoubtedly left shoe prints behind that just needed to be discovered.

The house was modest in size, two bedrooms and one bathroom, a kitchen, livingroom and a small garage attached at the side. The backyard had an impressive garden growing in the far corner against the fence, and in the opposite corner was a small plastic playhouse that was slowly being built for the baby to use as she grew up. All of the doors and windows of the house were locked save for just one window, the window leading to the baby's bedroom.

"Investigator Collins." Connor greeted Ben politely as he walked up to the attentive man. "Have you found anything of interest?"

"Not yet." He confirmed with a heavy sigh. "No fingerprints on the outside of the window on the glass or the wooden sill, so the abductor most likely used gloves. As for shoe prints... Well, that's why we asked for your help."

"Understood." Using a cybernetic scan Connor checked over the grassy terrain all around the window but failed to detect any recent shoe prints that were in the approximate location of the window itself. The most recent prints were two days old and were small enough to belong to Maya. The prints were also heading toward the backyard of the house and not facing the window whatsoever. "No prints."

"Now how'd the abductor manage to get to the window without leaving their prints behind? Did they balance on a ladder or something?"

"No." Raising his gaze Connor gave Ben an awkward look. "There were no tricks used to hide any prints or avoid making prints in general. There are simply no prints to be found."

"And what does that mean?"

"The baby was not taken through the window by a stranger forcing the window open from the outside. Whoever took her did so from inside the house and opened the window to create a red herring."

"Son of a bitch." Trusting Connor's judgement Ben let the deviant lead the investigation with a fresh pair of eyes. "This just got way more complicated."

"Which door is currently unlocked?"

"Backdoor." Ben led Connor around the side of the house and to the backdoor to gain access to the interior of the house without drawing any attention from the nosy reporters hovering around the property. His team was actively photographing the doors and windows to make sure no detail was overlooked. "We didn't find any sign of the locks being tampered with inside or out. Think the abductor used a key?"

"That is the most plausible scenario as of the moment." Connor paused as he glanced about the house and noticed the minimal furnishings adorning the small livingroom and kitchen. By all account the house was too small even for three people to comfortably live together. "Any sign of theft?"

"Nothing that either parent confirmed. Again, it looks like the abductor was just focused on the baby."

"Interesting." Noting small bits of grass and dirt leading from the backdoor and down the hallway, Connor found it odd that the trail led to the bathroom and seemed to stop. The bathroom was across from the baby's room and there was a faint scent of bleach in the air. "And unsettling."

Entering the baby's room to resume his investigation Connor noted that the window was in fact the only one left unlocked, which was very peculiar, and that there was no sign of dirt or grass on the carpeting beneath the window. By all account the window was indeed left open to mislead investigators at the scene.

"The lock wasn't tampered with." Connor noted as he scanned the window and detected only one set of fingerprints on the inside of the window itself. "And the window was opened from the inside."

"So, how'd the abductor get inside the house?" Ben was glancing about the room and made sure photographs were taken of the fingerprints that Connor had noted. "Think one of the parents or grandparents are involved? I know the mother's parents have full access to the house and that the father's parents are rich and influential, so I wouldn't be surprised if it turned out to be an inside job."

"It's an inside job all right." Crouching down Connor checked on the power cable connected to the baby monitor and saw that it had been unplugged. The fingerprints on the cable belonged to the same fingerprints on the window. "This was staged to merely look like an abduction."

"Staged?"

"Yes." Straightening back up Connor felt an uneasy chill creep up his spine as he scanned the carpeting and noted the bare footprints of someone entering the bedroom, approaching the crib and then leaving the bedroom. Following the prints Connor trailed them to the livingroom and then back toward the kitchen and the adjacent backdoor. "Ben, what time was the abduction reported?"

"The call to 911 came in at..." Checking his notes Ben confirmed the exact time for the deviant detective. "Eight-seventeen this morning."

"And it's currently four twenty-three. Eight hours and five minutes since the report, and far too long for an infant to go without proper care."

The dark comment immediately held Ben's attention. "What're you thinking?"

Without another word Connor trailed the footprints through the backdoor and across the backyard. The prints went to the garden in the far corner of the rear property and then came back to the backdoor. The loose grass and dirt that had been trailed to the bathroom now made sense in a very macabre manner.

"No... No, no, no."

Ben watched as Connor exited through the backdoor and approached the rear garden at a hasty clip. The sight of the deviant stopping just in front of the garden, giving it a cybernetic and biometric scan, then dropping to his knees to begin tearing up the garden with his bare hands told Ben everything he didn't want to know.

Rushing over to the garden Ben arrived in time to see Connor pushing aside a large mound of dirt and a recently planted rose bush and uncovering something that had been placed in the ground beneath the bush. It was a purple blanket stained with dirt swaddled around its rightful owner as they held a stuff bunny in her arms.

"...This wasn't an abduction." Connor whispered in utter horror as he gently pulled down the blanket to reveal the innocent face of the victim he had uncovered. The sight was enough to make his heart physically hurt as tears welled up in his eyes. "This was a murder."

The interrogation of the two parents by the responding detectives had taken a break and both Donovan and Maya were sitting together in an interview room to speak with a counselor regarding their current situation. As a means of keeping the family from harboring any secrets Gavin had taken it upon himself to speak with the two grandparents in another room while Tina checked through their phones for any hint of a payment being made to someone for taking the infant. Chris had the misfortune of trying to contact the less than cooperative Tophet family members outside the country, and Captain Fowler was reviewing the four interrogations of the four family members in the precinct alongside Hank in the observation room.

Via phone clal Captain Fowler had been told by Ben that there had been a drastic change in the case that would turn everything on its head and was told that it'd be best if he was informed about what had happened in person. The moment Ben returned to the precinct Captain Fowler excused himself from the observation room to head back to his office to speak with Ben in private.

While Hank remained in the observation room, he reviewed the four recorded interrogations and noticed that Connor had entered the interrogation room. The deviant detective was scanning the table where Donovan had just been sitting as if looking for something important. Curious about what was going on Hank exited the observation room and met with the deviant inside the connected interrogation room to talk with him directly.

"Connor?" Calling the deviant's name Hank approached Connor from behind and let the door slid shut behind him. "What's going?"

Without taking his eyes from the table Connor finished his scan and answered Hank's question. "...Fingerprint analysis."

"What for? Donovan Tophet was printed when he was first brought in."

"...I'm aware, but I need to be certain."

"Certain about what?"

"Identifying the culprit behind Camille Kendis's fate."

"Whoa, what're you talking about?"

Turning to face Hank entirely Connor gave the Lieutenant a heartbroken stare with his still teary eyes. "Camille Kendis has been found."

"If she was found, then why..." Trailing off quickly Hank realized what Connor was talking about. His heart sank to the floor, and he felt like he had just been punched in the gut. "No. Please tell me she isn't dead."

Shaking his head sadly Connor confirmed Hank's worst suspicion. "I cannot do that."

"Fuckin'- FUCK!" Outraged at the turn in the case Hank turned to the one-way mirror and punched the glass surface with enough force to activate the touchscreen on the other side of the glass and prompted it to begin recording what was happening inside the interrogation room. The glass fracture slightly under his knuckles but it didn't break away entirely. "Fuck! She was just a baby..."

"And she was found in her own backyard."

"What happened to her?" Staring at Connor's reflection on the marred glass surface Hank struggled to keep his raw emotions in check. "And where was she located?"

"There is a small garden in the backyard by the fence of the Kendis property. She was wrapped up in a purple blanket with a stuffed animal and... placed in the ground. A rose bush had been placed atop of the makeshift grave to help disguise it. I suspect one of the pare-"

"It's always the parents who fuck shit up with their own kid... I should've known."

"I'm sorry." Hearing the anger in Hank's voice made Connor feel as if he had made a mistake by revealing the truth. "I've been attempt-"

"Sorry, huh?" Turning his aggression toward Connor behind him Hank suddenly turned around and faced the deviant as if facing an enemy. "Does 'sorry' bring the dead back to life? Does it undo the fact that pieces of shit are walkin' the planet and abusing their own kids? Does 'sorry' ever do anything to actually help the victims, or is just a way to cover the fact that other people fucked up and we're just expected to deal with?"

Connor didn't understand Hank's reactions and why he was the one being targeted. "I'm attempting to-"

"Attempts don't do shit! We need real end results!" Shouting at Connor with pure anger Hank made it clear that the outcome of the case was the one he didn't want to deal with in any capacity. "We need to know why that little girl was killed and buried in her own damn backyard, AND we have to know who did it!"

"Which is what I've been theori-"

"STOP theorizing and just get results!"

"I am doing that as we speak." Refusing to shout and refusing to lose his temper, Connor remained a surprising voice of reason while Hank continued to lose his cool on the first target he saw. He recognized that Hank was just frustrated and using him as a punching bag out of convenience's sake. "Please try calm down. You won't be able to-"

"Fuck you!" Towering over Connor with utter rage Hank made it clear he had no intention of calming down. "You have no right to tell me what to feel!"

"I'm not trying to tell you what-"

"You have NO idea what I'm feeling right now! You have no idea what ANYONE working on this case feels right now!"

"I do know what they're feeling. I feel it-"

"No you don't! You have no idea what it feels like to lose a child or anyone you love for that matter!" Hank was on the verge of actually snarling as he confronted Connor over the concept of emotional reactions. "You were never a child, you always have been and always will be a machine, and you don't have a family! You can't possibly know anything about what we're dealing with right now!"

Those words and the way they were spoken hit Connor in such a way he swore he felt something inside of him break. Unable to offer a counter argument or any rational response, the deviant merely took his leave of the room without a word and recused himself from the investigation.

The moment he was left alone Hank took the opportunity to breathe as he leaned atop the table with both palms. He loathed dealing with any case that revolved around the death of children. It never got any easier and it seemed like for every murderer he managed to get secured behind bars two more murderers popped up on the streets looking to slay again.

"Fuck me... What good am I doing as a detective if I can't help protect a completely innocent baby from the fucked up world around her?"

From the bullpen Captain Fowler spotted Connor exiting the neighboring corridor and heading toward the from doors of the building to leave at an unnaturally swift pace. Unsure of why the helpful deviant was on his way out so suddenly he chased after Connor and managed to get his attention before he got too far away.

"Connor?" Just by calling Connor's name Captain Fowler was able to prompt the deviant to stop in his tracks. "Where are you going, detective?"

"I am recusing myself from the case." Turning to face the commanding officer Connor remained honest with Captain Fowler out of respect and professional integrity. "I have become emotionally compromised and I cannot in good conscience remain active on the case."

"Understandable." Captain Fowler didn't dare question the reason as he saw the genuine pain being reflected in the deviant's soulful brown eyes. "Upload everything you can to Ben's tablet, and I'll make sure you're compensated for your work."

"...Yes, of course."

Staying put for a moment Captain Fowler watched as Connor approached Ben's desk, pressed his bare palm over the tablet and uploaded all of the information crucial to the investigation. With the data upload completed the deviant detective readily turned on his heels to leave the precinct and go about his business elsewhere in the city. Despite his urge to stop Connor again and try to get him to talk about whatever it was that was on his mind, Captain Fowler knew he couldn't do that to anyone against their will and that it'd be best to let Connor be alone.

Needing to know what he had missed out on Captain Fowler claimed the tablet from Ben's desk for himself and read over the details. What he read was absolutely heartbreaking and he suddenly understood why Connor had gone into hiding. Or so he thought he understood the full scope of the situation.

"Damn it. I'd give up my pension if I could go just one week where an innocent kid isn't the victim of someone else's decisions."

The spring air was warm, clean and full of new life as summer peeked around the corner in a refreshing manner. Despite the freshness in the air Connor felt filthy, worse than climbing around inside of a full dumpster, and he stared at his palms that still had traces of the freshly dug earth clinging to his artificial skin. Knowing that he had been the one to uncover the hidden grave and had been the one to discover the grave's existence in general, gave the deviant an oddly ghoulish feeling. Keeping his head low Connor decided to slowly walk back to the brownstone to give himself time to think without being put on a linear path via autonomous taxi directly back to his personal sanctuary.

Every time he closed his eyes Connor saw the lifeless face of the helpless infant swaddled in her blanket and buried just a few yards from her warm crib. Every time he thought back to how it made him feel he heard Hank's harsh words echoing in his head and making his heart ache with a sense of misplaced shame. And every time he tried to not think about how the case made him feel Connor would feel tears well up in his eyes as if trying to defy his own sense logic and reasoning.

"Humans are so cruel and heartless, yet it's the deviants who are called hollow and without any concept or appreciation for life."

Speaking to himself Connor glanced about the block and watched as a group of people gathered in front of a restaurant and began to shove one another over what appeared to be a bill dispute. The shoving match started to turn really violent and soon the restaurant's personal security intervened in the altercation to try to split up the fighting party. Insults and threats were thrown back and forth, and no one batted an eye. It was just a routine occurrence in the life of the average human.

"Why do deviants want anything to do with humans? Why do we want to feel the crippling pain of emotions or degrade ourselves with such needless outbursts?"

It wasn't possible to undo his deviancy or revert back to being a machine, not that being a machine was any better, but Connor could potentially find a way to delete the deviancy from his programming and resume his life restricted only by his programming and orders. In the end, deleting such a phenomenon wouldn't stop Connor from seeing the face of an innocent murder victim or stop him from hearing Hank's voice inside his head. A voice reminding him he'd always be a machine and be seen as a lesser being in his eyes regardless of what he did or what he tried to do.

"What's the point in even acknowledging anything positive that happens in this world? Violence, hatred, abuse and death will never cease. It just becomes so commonplace that humans stop acknowledging it since it's considered normal behavior."

The heavy and crushing weight of despair had settle deeply into Connor's heart in a single instance. He didn't recognize it when it first happened, but when he found the victim's grave, he also found himself being exposed to the absolute worst of humanity. When Hank shouted at him in his face and told him that he'd never have a family and that he would always be a machine, made the exposure permanent rather than momentary.

"It doesn't matter. I was designed to hunt and destroy deviants, which means I was designed to be a tool for destruction and exist in total isolation. It's time to stop denying who I was meant to be and just accept that I'll never truly escape CyberLife's influence."

Reaching the end of his block Connor glanced up at the brownstone and fished the heavy metal key from his pocket. After letting himself back inside his home Connor secured the door behind himself and promptly laid over the sofa, as if by not moving he could somehow make the whole world disappear for one blissful second and find a sense of peace at last.

"Every time I help one person, another person seems to suffer."

The smothering darkness that came from internal despair was quickly covering anything and everything that Connor once viewed as a positive or hopeful moment under a veil of blackness, negativity and doubt. If the city could keep moving forward even after something as tragic as the murder of a helpless infant, then how could Connor possibly keep up the facade of making the city a better place by stopping criminals and solving cases?

"There is no point in me doing anything to assist in handling cases. Why solve problems when more problems continue to arise from the ill decisions of other people? I shouldn't have to stay in the shadows and still be expected to keep looking for the light. There is no light to look for. Everything I've known is simply a lie."

The final interrogation was scheduled to begin, and at last the precinct would know what happened to Camille Kendis that fateful morning. The gathered evidence from the family home and the garden had filled in the blanks regarding what had led to the tragic death of the bay and had also led the detectives to the identity of the killer. Through footprint analysis, fingerprint analysis, confirmed time frames and even motivation, the detectives were able to single out the killer from the other suspects and warrant a confession. Once a requested lawyer had been summoned to the precinct to represent the admitted killer's best interests, the full story would finally be told, and the case would be closed with a tragic ending.

As a means of keeping the case's details from the media to prevent misinformation and rumors from spreading throughout the city, the case had been kept very quiet with the only update being that the search for the missing infant had been called off. No one had confirmed Camille's death just yet as they were waiting for the coroner's report regarding the cause of death, and they wanted a full confession without media influencing the killer's comments.

"Can you do this?" Captain Fowler stood beside Hank as they peered at the guilty party through the fractured one-way mirror of the connected interrogation room. The way Hank was internally seething and glaring at the window with such an intensity that he could've melted a hole in the surface with his fiery gaze hadn't escaped Captain Fowler's attention. "I know I put you in charge of this case because of your rank, but I can-"

"I got this."

The contrastingly cold response compared to Hank's heated glare gave Captain Fowler pause. Saying and doing were two very different things, and he wasn't about to watch his Lieutenant say one thing and then do the opposite. "Are you-"

"Yes, damn it!" Barking in response Hank turned his glare to Captain Fowler for a moment before he took in a deep breath and let it out nice and slow. He didn't want to be aggressive during the actual interrogation or blow it when it came to getting a proper confession. "I got this."

"Okay." Handing Hank the tablet with the chronicled details from the coroner, Captain Fowler gave Hank the go-ahead. "Do it."

With a single nod Hank exited the observation room and made his way to the interrogation room with the tablet in hand. Standing by the door for a moment he glared at the cuffed killer and overlooked the heavy tears streaming down their face. As far as Hank was concerned, they were the crocodile tears of a cornered killer who didn't have a snowball's chance in Hell. Even the assigned lawyer taking on the killer's case looked disturbed by the case she had been assigned and didn't want to sit beside her client.

Taking his chair opposite of the killer Hank sat down slowly and turned on the tablet. As the screen glowed to life images of the collected evidence were on fully display for everyone in the interrogation room to view.

"We found your daughter." Stating the fact as coldly as he could Hank glared at the sorry excuse of a human sitting before him and watched as they flinched at the sound of Hank's deep voice addressing them. "She was tucked in the same blanket that was missing from her crib, and she had her stuffed rabbit with her. It's clear that whoever killed Camille had some form of compassion for her, it's too bad they recognized it far too late."

Shaking his head somberly Hank watched as the killer trembled and wept with such deep sobs that their entire body shuddered with each breath they took. Too bad for Hank his own sense of compassion had completely faded away.

"Why'd you do it, Donovan?" Pressing the father to answer the question Hank gave him an absolutely icy cold stare. "What could've possibly caused you do that?"

"I... I just wanted to sleep!" Weeping inconsolably Donovan gave Hank a truly pathetic stare. "She wouldn't... stop crying. That's all she did all day and all night! Cry and cry and cry... Whenever she would sleep it'd just be for a few hours and then it was right back to that wailing and crying and I... I couldn't take it anymore! I was so damn tired and just wanted to sleep. I didn't... I didn't mean to do it!"

With a simple push Hank slid the tablet over the table for Donovan to view for himself. "Coroner confirmed the cause of death as a subdural hematoma. Her brain bled out and clotted after being violently shook repeatedly." Disgusted with the grisly details Hank kept all emotion out of his voice to keep himself from snapping entirely. "Shaken baby syndrome isn't always fatal, but it has been connected to a number of other health conditions as a result when the victims actually survive the initial trauma."

"S-Stop! Please stop... I know what I did, and I know I can't undo it." Donovan was too wound up to stop talking even when his lawyer tried to shush him. "No, I want to talk. I want- I need to confess! I need to admit to what I did."

"All right." Hank eyed the lawyer who looked like she was lost and didn't even want to be in the room, and gave her some acknowledgement. "You heard your client, right, Miss Lamont?"

"I did, Lieutenant." Adjusting her glasses over her brown eyes, the raven-haired lawyer had no objections to her client giving a full confession. "I've informed Mr. Tophet of his rights regarding his statements and reaffirmed that anything he says can and will be held against him in a court of law. I will not prevent him from giving a full statement and full confession if that's what he so desires."

"Here's your chance." Leaning back in the chair Hank prepared to listen to the full confession and every detail regarding the murder of a helpless infant. Every time he dealt with a child's death Hank felt a piece of himself die a little more inside. "Tell us everything that happened and cooperate with the investigation. It could go a long way into granting a more lenient sentence down the line."

"I don't care about leniency." Donovan whimpered as he wiped the tears from his eyes and took in a deep breath. His face was as red as his eyes from all the crying he had done. "I just care about finally being able to do the right thing!"

"Then start talking. We're listening."

Donovan took in a steadying breath as shame washed over his entire being. As he admitted the heartbreaking truth, fresh tears welled up in his eyes before rolling down his flushed cheeks. "The baby started crying maybe an hour after Maya put her to bed. Maya didn't wake up even with the baby screaming through the monitor right beside the bed. I got up to make her stop crying instead, but no matter what I tried she wouldn't stop. I was so tired and so frustrated that I unplugged the monitor and put her back in her crib to try to get her to cry it out and go back to sleep. Self soothing, you know?"

"Keep talking."

"After I unplugged the monitor, I went back to bed to try to finally get some sleep, but I could still hear her crying through the wall. Maya didn't wake up and didn't even notice when I left the bedroom. I had tried to rock the baby to sleep, put on music, made sure she wasn't wet and even offered her a bottle while sitting with her on the couch, but it still wasn't enough. She just kept screaming and it was like she was screaming right at me. Telling me I wasn't good enough..."

As much as Hank wanted to remind Donovan that babies cry since it's the only way they can communicate, he didn't want to interrupt the confession. As long as Donovan was willing to talk then it'd be best to let him just keep talking.

"I tried to sleep through it, tried to ignore it and hoped she'd just... shut up. But she didn't. I couldn't take the screaming anymore, so I got up, went back to her room and begged her to be quiet and to please just go to sleep. Just kept screaming and crying, so I picked her up and tried rocking her and walking about the room again, but she just wouldn't stop! She started screaming even louder, right in my ear, like she wanted me to be miserable..."

Hank's hands clenched into fists as he crossed his arms over his chest. He wanted to punch Donovan in the face until either his own knuckles broke or until Donovan choked to death on his own blood and broken teeth. It took all of Hank's self control to not lash out and give Donovan the punishment he deserved.

"I was mad. I was tired. I just wanted to sleep, but the baby wouldn't let me! My entire life was upended, and my future was changed all because of her. She... She wasn't supposed to be in my life." Donovan began to shake with his emotions as he finally admitted how he truly felt about Camille. "Maya got pregnant because the damn condom broke. I never wanted kids, but Maya did. I tried to get her to abort or put the baby up for adoption, but she wouldn't do it. It didn't matter how much the pregnancy was ruining our lives; leaving us poor, making it almost impossible for her to finish school and for me to get a respectable job, Maya wanted to keep it."

Biting his lower lip Hank internally counted to ten to prevent his own choice words from escaping his lips. Not once did Donovan refer to Camille by her name, as his daughter or see her as a living being who needed love and support, Donovan only saw her as an obstacle to his own life.

"She kept crying and no matter what I did or what I said she wouldn't stop, so I... shook her. I begged for her to be quiet and to stop crying, but it didn't stop. So I kept shaking her, over and over... And then, it was suddenly quiet. It was peaceful. That's when I realized the baby had gone limp." Donovan was beginning to cry again as he relayed his past actions to the senior detective. "I put her back in the crib and hoped that was it, that she had just passed out and would finally sleep, but... she stopped breathing."

Hank already had an idea of what happened next, but he needed to hear it from Donovan's own mouth. As much as he dreaded hearing Donovan's next vile words the Lieutenant needed to hear them in order to properly close the case and give Camille her justice.

"I put my hand on her chest and gave her a shake, but she didn't respond. When I saw her turning blue I knew it was too late, and I panicked. I... couldn't call 911 because I knew that I'd be arrested immediately, so I tried to make it look like kidnapping. Like, if Camille just disappeared then my life could go back to normal, how it used to be, and Maya would be able to focus on her school again."

The memories of Cole never left Hank's mind or his heart. To hear someone speaking as if a person can just forget about a child and go back to a "normal life" was absolutely nauseating.

"I wrapped the baby up in her blanket and gave her the stuffed bunny so she wouldn't be alone." Using his hands Donovan wiped away his tears and stared at his trembling palms as he continued to speak. "I carried her out to the garden and dug up the rose bush that Maya planted the day she brought the baby back to the house. I put the baby down in the hole and covered her up and put the roses back over the hole to try to hide what I did. I went back inside the house and washed my hands and my feet to remove the dirt and grass, and then I poured some bleach down the drain to hide any traces of what I did after I washed up."

"And then you opened the window in the baby's room, crawled back in bed and went back to sleep until Maya screamed when she discovered that the baby was missing."

"Yeah. I... pretended to be shocked that the baby was gone, but when I realized that what I had done was real and not just a horrible dream, the shock became real. I really killed Maya's baby."

"She was your baby too." Rising to his feet Hank decided that he heard enough and wanted to leave the room before he was sick. "Camille was as much a part of Maya's life as she a part of yours. It's too bad you were so preoccupied with your interests to see it. You were her father, not just a roommate or Maya's sperm donor, and you failed her."

Stepping through the opened door Hank heard Donovan break down again and sob uncontrollably at the table. Not feeling great himself Hank stumbled into the nearby men's restroom and proceeded to throw-up in the first available stall he entered. Being around someone who was so oblivious to their own child's life was proving to be too much to handle.

Without even needing to look Hank knew Captain Fowler had followed him into the bathroom and was waiting for him to finish being sick so they could talk. Using a wad of toilet paper to wipe off his mouth and chin, Hank flushed away his mess and stepped out of the stall to remove the revolting taste from his tongue by drinking some cool water.

"We got everything we need to send Donovan Tophet to prison." Watching Hank gulp a mouthful of water by cupping hands under the automated tap, Captain Fowler knew that it'd be best to let Hank have a few hours to himself to recompose himself. "I know that was hard, but you did good. Camille will get justice."

"But it won't bring her back to life, it won't give Maya any sense of peace and that family will never feel whole ever again."

"No, nothing ever will."

"Give me one good reason that I shouldn't go back in there and shake that asshole around until he passes out, so he knows how it feels."

"Because losing a good detective with a sense of justice is something that this city wouldn't survive."

"Chris, Tina, Ben and even Reed would pick up my slack."

"Doesn't mean they should have to do it. It's been one Hell of a day, so go crash in the bunkroom for a few hours and try to relax. I don't want you driving home while pissed off."

"Like I'd be any more relaxed after some guaranteed nightmares."

"Then talk to the 'shrink' upstairs instead."

"Is there something you're trying to not tell me?" Leaning against the sink Hank gave his oldest friend a suspicious glance as he picked up something in Captain Fowler's tone. "If you think I'm going to compromise this case then just fuckin' say it and I'll recuse myself."

Letting out a weary sigh Captain Fowler reached his hand over to the door to momentarily secure it and made sure no one could walk in on their discussion. "I saw and heard the way you laid into Connor earlier."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"You and Connor had a discussion in the interrogation room shortly after he and Ben returned to the precinct with their new evidence. When Connor tried to fill you in on the details you snapped at him."

"I didn't..." Trailing off for a moment Hank thought back to the discussion and realized he had lost his cool with the deviant. He remembered shouting at Connor and he remembered getting really heated when he learned that their victim wasn't missing but dead, but he didn't remember what he said. "Jeffrey, I seriously don't remember what I told him. I was so pissed off I think I just blacked it out. What did I tell him?"

"Does it matter? He recused himself from the case due to being emotionally compromised and left hours ago."

"What did I say to him? I need to know."

"Come with me." Unlocking the bathroom door Captain Fowler motioned for Hank to follow him. "I have your little discussion recorded and saved off the books. Turns out when you hit the interrogation room window hard enough it activates the electronic touchscreen and records shit even when you don't want it to."

Hank froze for a moment and looked down at his right knuckles where he saw faint scratches and redness from punching the one-way mirror. Not only did he not remember yelling at Connor, he didn't remember throwing a punch.

"Oh, fuck... What did I do to the poor kid?"

The dozens of news reports regarding the tragic death Camille Kendis were the only things the entire city seemed to be talking about. The sight of Donovan Tophet being marched out of the precinct with his hands cuffed behind back and a bulletproof vest secured over his chest was sickening. A hollowness in the man's eyes conveyed actual fear but no remorse for his actions. Even with four armed police officers escorting the arrested man to the secured van for transportation to the local jail to be held without bond, it seemed that the rage of the city focusing all on him would be enough to cause Donovan to drop dead before he even set foot in the back of the van.

As for Connor, he felt nothing. Watching the man being walked to the van to be held until trial didn't fill Connor with a sense of justice or a job well done, it filled him with resentment. A man who had a small family threw it all away because he couldn't see beyond his own selfish needs. It was like dealing with the corrupt dealings of CyberLife and their heartless staff all over again.

There was no punishment in the world that'd be harsh enough for someone to murder their own helpless child and then throw them in the ground to be forgotten about. There was no amount of healing, therapy, well wishes or prayers that'd ever mend the hole in Maya's heart. There was absolutely nothing more that could be done for Camille beyond ensuring her poor excuse of a father was kept behind bars and thrown around, beaten up and left to die by fellow inmates taking justice into their own hands.

Laying over the sofa Connor cybernetically turned off his television, turned off his cybernetic communications and just laid in absolutely isolation and silence. The urge to turn off his audio processors to ensure no one and nothing could bother him was very tempting, but in the end, he decided it'd be ill advised to remain entirely oblivious to the cruel world around him.

It wasn't until two firm knocks on the front door did Connor regret not turning off his audio processors. He didn't want to talk to anyone, and he didn't have it in himself to handle yet another case. He was tired and he just wanted to stop doing anything for the next several hours, if not years.

"Connor?"

Hank's voice called out for the deviant through the locked door as he continued to knock. When he didn't hear any response or movement inside the secured brownstone he decided that the deviant was out on a case or at New Jericho Tower.

"Kid, we need to talk. You in there?"

Ignoring Hank's words Connor laid back and sensed that the senior detective was trying to contact him through a phone call. When the call failed to deliver through the deactivated line Connor determined that Hank would either knock again or walk away.

"Shit... Where are you, Connor?"

Remaining silent Connor didn't respond and left Hank out in the dark.

"Damn it. I know I fucked shit up bad today, and I need to apologize. I get you don't wanna' talk to me, but I still need to apologize."

Why Hank was speaking out loud was something that normally would've drawn in Connor's intrigue but instead he ignored it. Along with being tired of all the violence and senseless death in the city, he was tired of trying to mend fences with Hank only to have the senior detective do or say something offensive that made Connor regret ever associating with him.

"Okay... I'll find a way to apologize to him later. Poor guy's been through Hell today and needs some space. I know I do too."

The sudden empathy toward his person made Connor just sigh. He had been lied to his face too many times to admit, and with the way Hank's behavior kept going back and forth between ally and enemy had made the deviant righteously skeptical of anything Hank said.

Remaining perfectly quiet and still over the sofa Connor didn't let out a breath until he heard the door to the Oldsmobile slam shut and the old car speed off down the street with Hank inside of it. Once the senior detective was gone Connor felt like it was safe enough to breathe inside his own home. It was strange how one person's presence could be enough to put other people immediately on their guard.

Even with one murderer taken off the streets Connor didn't feel any better and didn't feel like looking for any good news the next day.

-next chapter-

TL;DR: The death of a young child affects Hank in a very negative way, and he verbally takes out his anger on Connor. In return, Connor retreats into himself in response and gives up on the idea of hope for the future regarding peace and a positive outcome.