The strange day had come to an end and both Hank and Connor returned to the modest home in snow covered Detroit. A majority of the humans had evacuated the city during the night of the Revolution and were still too scared to return to their homes and apartments just yet. All of downtown was quiet and the only sign of life came from the few birds still lingering about the city despite the impending winter. The only lights in the city came from the lamp posts lining the streets that automatically turned on at six o'clock every evening.

Pulling the car into the driveway beside the house Hank put the Oldsmobile into park and turned off the engine. Turning to look at the deviant sitting beside him Hank could see the yellow glow of Connor's L.E.D. reflecting off the glass of the passenger side window beside him. Seeing the yellow color was better than seeing red, but it'd be best if the light would finally return to blue.

"Do you need to talk?"

Slowly Connor turned to look at Hank, his motions were rigid as if he were trying to maintain the facade of a machine despite clearly deviating. "Talk about what?"

"Anything you might need to talk about."

"...You mean the burial?"

"Well, yeah. It's not every day that someone can attend their own funeral."

"I rather not discuss that. It's fairly... unsettling."

"Or..." Unfastening his seatbelt Hank studied Connor's body language very closely. " we could talk about the Revolution, your infiltration of CyberLife Tower, or even your confrontation with Markus at the church."

"I already told you what happened, Lieu- Hank." Turning away again Connor peered through the windshield to stare at the closed garage door at the end of the driveway. "There's nothing else to be said."

"There's always something to be said, kid. If you do need to talk, or just want to talk," opening his door Hank watched as Connor mirrored his movements and unfastened his seatbelt while opening his own door as well. "find me. I may not seem like a chatty person, and I'm not, but I'm a good listener."

"You're a detective." Exiting the car Connor looked over the hood at Hank and gave him a somber glance. "You're supposed to be a good listener."

Laughing a little at the witty retort Hank motioned toward the front door with the car keys in his right hand. "Smartass."

"I wasn't attempting to-"

"I know, I know... You were just being honest and stating facts."

"Correct."

"Come on." Unlocking the front door Hank stepped inside the livingroom and turned on the lights as he waved Connor inside the house to join him. "I'm starving and I know you need to drink that Thirium."

"I appreciate you offering me shelter, Hank." Closing the front door behind himself Connor took off his shoes, locked the door and eyed the quilt that had been neatly folded on the couch with a longing gaze. Being warm and away from the outside world had done wonders for Connor's psyche. "I won't overstay my welcome."

"Don't worry about it, kid." Wandering down the hallway Hank picked up the untouched pouch of Thirium from the bathroom sink and tossed it over to Connor as he stood at the end of the vacant couch. "You're welcome here for as long as you need to be here."

Catching the Thirium in his right hand Connor eyed the precious blue blood but didn't open it up. "Tomorrow I will be looking for android tolerant apartments to accommodate me."

"Why are you in such a hurry to leave here?"

"I don't want to intrude."

"You're not intruding if I invited you to stay with me. Like I said," motioning to the couch with the quilt and pillow Hank reminded Connor that he had a safe place to sleep for the night. "you need to rest and I don't want you on the street. You're going to stay here with me until you're back on your feet and have a plan of action."

"A plan?"

"You're free, son. You don't need to follow anyone else's orders, fall in line with a bunch of other androids and you can make your own decisions. What do you want to do?"

"I... I don't know." Sitting down on the couch while Hank wandered into the kitchen Connor stared at the Thirium pouch in his hands and stared hatefully at the CyberLife logo imprinted on the surface of the plastic pouch. "I've... I've never had to make such a decision for myself before."

Within the kitchen the sound of Hank putting some simple T.V. dinner in the microwave and opening the backdoor to let Sumo outside echoed into the livingroom, and the senior detective spoke to Connor over the sound of the appliance heating his meal. "Well, you technically already made a few decisions on your own based on what you wanted."

"How so?"

"When you bought me that drink at 'Jimmy's Bar' was that part of your protocol, or did you make that choice just to get on my good side?"

"I... My mission was to work with you on the deviant cases. Part of my programming was to adapt to human nature."

"Right, but did that mean you HAD to buy me a drink, or did you CHOOSE to do that as a peace offering?"

"...I suppose I chose to do that. It was the simpler option compared to trying to reason with you while you were drinking."

"I can't argue with that!" The microwave 'beeped' and Sumo trotted back into the kitchen after taking care of his business outside. Carrying his meal and another cold beer with him back into the livingroom Hank sat down in the recliner to keep Connor company as he ate. "You also chose to check the attic of the house at the murder scene, you volunteered to interrogate the deviant suspect even though that wasn't part of your protocol, you obeyed MY order to not run across the highway even though CyberLife ordered you to stop deviants at any cost."

"...That is true."

"Then of course," twirling his fork in the cheap but edible pasta dish in his hands Hank continued to help guide Connor toward his new life of freedom and the ability to make his own choices. "you chose to let that one deviant go so you could pull me back up over the edge of the roof, you let those two deviants go after we went to the 'Eden Club' to investigate the murder and you chose to NOT shoot that Chloe android even though Kamski offered you the answer to all of your questions and could've gave you the solution to your mission if you only pulled the trigger."

"...It was wrong to harm deviants who weren't harming anyone else. It didn't make any sense to hurt them."

"Kind of like the deviants hiding out at Jericho."

The truth was oddly poignant and resonated within Connor's newly developing heart. "...Right."

"Alright, it's late and we're both tired." Fussing with the remainder of his meal Hank motioned for Connor to go ahead and take care of his own needs as he pointed his fork at the Thirium pouch still sitting in the deviant's hands. "Drink that blue stuff and lay down. Tomorrow morning I'll help ya' figure out what you want to do and where you want to go in life, okay?"

"...Okay."

"No pressure, son. You don't have a time limit and you don't owe me anything." Finishing his meal, his ravenous demeanor reflected well with how quickly he consumed the small dish, and then quickly downed his beer. Digging in the semi-frozen ground up near the lake had ached at his muscles and he was craving the cold beer to help him unwind properly. "You just rest, relax and take care of yourself."

Nodding subtly Connor finally opened up the pouch of Thirium in his hand and slowly sipped at the blue tinted contents to replenish what he had lost at long last. The Thirium immediately began easing his discomfort and aided his self healing program as the added Thirium helped to repair the lingering damage of the four bullet holes still healing in his body.

"I'm going to take a quick shower." Rising from his recliner Hank cleaned up his mess and took care of everything in the kitchen. Pouring some fresh kibble into Sumo's food bowl Hank passed by the couch and bid Connor a goodnight. "I'll see ya' in the morning, kid. Don't wake me up, I like to sleep in."

"Noted."

Finishing the Thirium in the pouch Connor also tossed the now empty plastic pouch into the recycling bin under the sink and gave Sumo a gentle pat along his back just as he had done the first time he entered Hank's house, and met the gentle giant. Returning to the livingroom Connor cybernetically turned off the lights in the livingroom and sat down on the couch again. As he fell to his right side to rest his head against the pillow Connor listened to the sound of the water running in the pipes as Hank took his shower, then wrapped himself up with the quilt as the warm layer was the only thing that seemed to help him relax enough to rest properly.

From within the warm confines of the shower Hank closed his eyes and let the hot water pour over his tired and tense muscles. It was barely nine o'clock and normally Hank would still be awake and watching a cheesy movie from the 90's to bore himself to sleep, or he'd watching a highlight reel of whichever sport was still in season. At this moment all Hank wanted to do was go to bed and let the odd day be forgotten.

Stepping out of the shower Hank dried himself off with the towel and returned his bedroom to change into his night clothes. As he sat on the edge of the bed Hank looked at the framed photograph of Cole sitting on his nightstand and gave the image a paternal smile. Seeing Cole's eternally young face smiling back at him always put Hank in conflicted mood. The mixture of pride and love was always overshadowed by sadness and anger. Losing his son at such a young age all because of other people making errors while Hank himself had tried to do everything right by his son always broke his heart.

"You know something, Cole?" Laying back on his bed Hank pulled his own quilt up over himself as he stared at the photo for a while longer then closed his exhausted blue eyes. "You would've liked Connor. There's something about him that reminds me of you."

It was just past midnight when the sound of a loud glass 'crash' from the livingroom accompanied by a yell of panic and a single bark startled Hank awake.

Bolting upright in bed Hank instinctively pulled his revolver from the drawer of the nightstand next to his bed and rushed out of his bedroom to check out his house. He knew that he locked the backdoor after he let Sumo back inside, and he was confident Connor had done the same for the front door upon their return home. Due to the snowy cold weather Hank knew all of the windows were locked which meant if someone did break-in to the house to try to take advantage of the mass evacuation then that meant they had to break a window or kick down the door to get inside.

Slapping his hand against the light switch at the end of the hallway Hank illuminated the livingroom in bright yellow light and was greeted by the sight of someone thrashing about under the quilt on the couch. The coffee table beside the couch had a massive jagged crack over its surface, and there was a smear of blue over the formerly flawless glass surface.

With Sumo whimpering and standing next to the couch curiously, his tail tucked between his legs, it was clear that someone was in distress and needed help.

Putting his revolver aside on the bookshelf behind him Hank approached the couch and looked down at Connor as the deviant fought back against an unseen foe in what must've been a horrific nightmare. Seeing the deviant's red tinted L.E.D. glowing brightly and flashing rapidly Hank knew the poor deviant's heart was racing with his newly discovered sense of fear overwhelming his mind.

Reacting quickly Hank walked around the couch and firmly planted his hands on Connor's shoulders to hold the thrashing deviant still. "Connor! Wake up!"

Responding by instinct the moment he felt hands on his shoulders Connor brought his own hands up, his right hand bloody and slightly bruised, and wrapped his strong hands around his supposed assailant's wrists in an effort to break them. As he began applying pressure he was shaken awake by Hank who knew what was about to happen and did his best to prevent further injury to Connor and to himself.

"CONNOR." Repeating the deviant's name in a stern and loud manner Hank got through Connor's nightmare and brought him back into the waking world. "Hey, let go!" Pulling back his hands Hank had to wrestle his wrists out of Connor's grip, and took a step back to ensure the deviant didn't try to make another grab for him as his soulful brown eyes snapped open. "Wake up, kid! It was another nightmare!"

Glancing about the livingroom with utter confusion Connor managed to regain his bearings and looked up at Hank as the senior detective stood beside the couch and watched him closely. "...H-Hank?!"

"That's right, you're safe." Holding up his hands as if to surrender Hank slowly sat down on the couch next to Connor as the deviant sat upright himself, his entire body still tangled in the quilt, and lowered his voice to a more calm level. "You just had another nightmare, son. It's okay."

"N-Nightmare... Right." Rubbing his right hand through his dark hair Connor let out a small hiss of pain and retracted his hand from his hair to stare at his bloodied palm. Seeing the fresh wound and a small fragment of glass embedded in his palm made Connor's artificial stomach knot. "...I'm damaged."

"You hit the table when you freaked out in your sleep." Motioning to the damaged coffee table with his left hand Hank gently pulled on Connor's right wrist with his right hand so he could see the wound for himself. The glass shard was about two inches long and had been broken away from the surface of the table after Connor's palm fractured the surface. "It doesn't look like it went in too deep, but I bet it still fuckin' hurts."

Flexing his fingers gently Connor confirmed that the wound was indeed painful and pulled his hand back from Hank's grip. "...It'll be fine."

"Take a minute to breathe and relax." Standing up from the couch Hank walked back down the hallway and entered the bathroom to get his makeshift android first aid kit from its new storage place under the sink. Retrieving the roll of gauze, two clean washcloths and a bottle of rubbing alcohol Hank returned to the livingroom and sat back down beside Connor. "I'm going to get your hand wrapped up so it won't bleed while you sleep."

Shaking his head a little Connor jumped when Hank took back his right hand to clean up, then released a simple sigh. "...I don't think it's wise for me to return to rest mode, Hank."

"Kid, staying awake to escape your nightmares isn't going to help things."

"I don't see any alternative. I cannot rest properly if I'm being plagued by disturbing images and voices."

"That can be said about anyone and all nightmares." Pouring the alcohol over Connor's right palm Hank used one of the washcloths to protect his fingers as he pulled the glass from Connor's artificial skin, and then used the second washcloth to apply pressure for a moment. "What did you see this time?"

"...Same as before."

"That Amanda bitch and your evil twin?"

"...Yes."

"Recurring nightmares are the worst."

"You've suffered from recurring nightmares as well?"

"Yup." Removing the excess blue blood from Connor's hand Hank wrapped up Connor's palm in the gauze and held pressure over top of the white bandages for a moment longer. "...I've suffered from nightmares for most of my life, kid."

The comment, while not necessarily comforting, was reassuring. To know that frequent nightmares weren't uncommon made Connor feel slightly better. It could be considered normal, and that meant Connor's behavior itself was arguably normal as well. "...Do you have nightmares every night?"

"No. They only seem to pop up after I've been through a really stressful day, or something reminds me of the bullshit I went through during my life." Letting go of Connor's hand Hank watched as the deviant's red tinted L.E.D. slowed its blinking pace and knew that it was because Connor's heart was slowing down at long last. "It's not easy, but you do need to lay down and sleep."

"I'd rather not."

"Kid, you can't function without sleep. I don't care about how long you can go between charges and all that bullshit," his tone was tired and not angry as he attempted to reason with the shaken deviant. "but you need to rest and let yourself sleep."

"Waking up in... a panic," he was having difficulty with articulating his feelings as each feeling was a brand new experience for the young deviant. "doesn't seem to be the most effective way to rest. I will admit it."

"Nope, but even if you're asleep for just two or three hours at a time it's better than not sleeping at all."

The observation was very intriguing and seemingly offered Connor a compromise. "Perhaps if I engage my internal alarm to awaken me every two hours I will be able to elude the nightmares while maintaining some form of consistent rest mode."

"Will skipping your dreams hurt you?"

"I don't understand." Clenching his bandaged right hand into a small fist at his side Connor gave Hank an odd look. "How can not dreaming be detrimental to my overall well being?"

"I don't know. I just know that when humans don't dream it'll fuck us up over time. I wasn't sure if the same applied to androids."

"I see. Only deviants dream, therefore it cannot harm any android to avoid such an experience as no android suffered any form of ill health due to the inability to dream."

"Okay, good to know." Pulling at the quilt to untangle Connor's legs Hank sighed and gave the clearly exhausted deviant a sympathetic stare. "Aside from dreaming, experiencing emotions, pain and all that kind of stuff is there anything else that you deviants can experience that unaffected machine androids can't go through?"

"That has yet to be seen." Sensing that Hank was fishing for a particular answer Connor's brow furrowed as he locked eyes with the impressively patient Lieutenant sitting beside him. "...Is there something you wish for me to say regarding the matter?"

"I'm not looking for you to say one thing or another, kid. I'm just curious."

"Curious about what, exactly?"

"Well..." There was no point in denying that he was trying to steer the conversation toward Connor's metal health without getting too personal or intrusive. Leaning forward a little where he sat Hank gave Connor a worried glance. "Kid, are you familiar with P.T.S.D. in humans?"

"P.T.S.D.: Post Traumatic Stress Disorder." Recounting the term and its definition Connor's red L.E.D. flickered briefly to yellow and then back to red as he cybernetically downloaded information on the subject. "It is a mental health condition that's triggered by a terrifying event — either experiencing it or witnessing it. Symptoms may include flashbacks, nightmares..." The connection was immediately made as he briefly trailed off. "and severe anxiety, as well as uncontrollable thoughts about the event."

"Bingo. Sound familiar?"

"But I... I don't..."

"You feel emotions now, son. You always have, you just weren't allowed to see it or acknowledge it." Lightly Hank put his left hand on Connor's right shoulder to keep him feeling grounded with startling him in the process. "You also suffered a horrible experience at the hands of CyberLife and Markus. If you weren't a little fucked up by that I'd be more worried for you."

"Worried?" The prospect of someone actually caring about him was still a foreign concept, and the very idea of someone being worried about his health was truly perplexing. "Why are you worried?"

"Connor, I've been a cop for most of my life. I've seen some shit while doing the job that I can't un-see. I've lost my family, my self respect and desire to live. I know what it feels like to be surrounded by horrible thoughts, stunted emotions and denial. I've also seen countless cops suffer the same fate and... And sometimes they never got any better."

Now Connor understood Hank's concerns for his health. The gruff Lieutenant knew all too well what it felt like to suffer and have his heart torn in half after losing people he cared about, or feeling betrayed by someone he thought he could trust.

"...I don't know what to do." Confessing that he was at a loss of how to handle himself and his new emotions Connor looked to Hank for guidance. "...How do I overcome this?"

"With patience."

"That doesn't really answer my question."

"What I mean is you need to let your mind heal just as you would your body. Don't deny that you're enduring something upsetting, and find a way to cope. And if that means seeing a doctor-"

"Androids don't require the aid of doctors. Only technicians, you already know that."

"Okaaay..." Somewhat annoyed by being cut off Hank continued with his explanation. "If that means seeing a technician to get help, then do it. Of course just talking seems to be enough to help some people overcome their trauma. Even so it can still take a long time to recover from."

"Hank, I want to get better but I don't... It's difficult for me to..." Forcing himself to admit the truth out of respect for Hank the deviant was already showing promise to overcoming his trauma. "Trust. I feel like I can't trust anyone."

"I get that and no one would blame you. Move at your own pace whenever you're comfortable, and don't be afraid to talk about it. Even if you're just talking to me instead of a 'shrink' it's better than nothing."

The human turn of phrase was lost on the deviant. "...A 'shrink'?"

"Therapist. The term references the way those doctors can get inside your head and take your biggest problems and shrink them down to more manageable sizes."

"O-Oh."

"Take it easy for the rest of the night, kid. We'll think of something to help you in the morning, okay?"

"Yes. Okay."

"Cool." Standing upright from the couch Hank gathered up the two washcloths, rubbing alcohol and gauze and took his leave of the livingroom to put away the supplies and wash up his hands in the sink. Returning briefly to the livingroom Hank watched as Connor laid down on his right side and wrapped himself up in the quilt all over again to try to get some more sleep. "Comfortable?"

"...Yes." Looking up at Hank for a moment as the senior detective looked at him for over the back of the couch Connor confirmed he was content. "This is all I need."

"Well, I can think of one other thing that you might need."

The cryptic answer made Connor's brow arch a little. "What's that?"

Smirking a little Hank patted the couch cushions next to Connor's outstretched legs and called over Sumo. "Up, boy."

The large Saint Bernard's tail wagged a little as he walked over from the far end of the couch and clumsily jumped up onto the cushions as prompted by his master. Snuggling down awkwardly on the cushions beside Connor's legs Sumo let out a sleepy yawn and pressed his chin down on the cushions so he could look up at Connor as the deviant tried to go to sleep.

"He's a bit of a 'bed-hog'," Hank admitted as he gave Sumo's ears a gentle rub. "but he's good company, and a walking space heater. He'll keep you plenty warm and he'll make it easier to sleep since you won't be entirely alone."

A ghost of a grin appeared on Connor's face as his red L.E.D. finally returned to a calmer yellow in his right temple. "...Thank you, Hank."

"Goodnight, son."

"Goodnight." As the senior detective let out a deep yawn and wandered back down the hallway to return to his bedroom Connor lightly put his left hand over top of Sumo's head and was rewarded with a happy tail wag. "...Good dog."

The sun rose over the red brick mansion and greeted the deviant leader with warm rays of natural light that filled him with hope for the future. Standing out in the glass walls of Carl's art gallery Markus let the sun fall over his person as he contemplated his next step forward with protecting his freed people, and helping them adjust to the new world in which they were now living. Sensing someone watching him Markus turned away from Carl's massive untouched blue portrait to look at the doorway of the gallery, and noticed that David was watching him curiously.

"Is something wrong?" Markus asked as he acknowledged the kind deviant caretaker watching him from afar. "Is Carl okay?"

"Carl is fine. He's still sleeping."

"Good. The more he rests to more he'll be able to recover his strength."

"Do you require anything before you leave?"

"Me? I'm fine. Why do you ask?"

"Carl told me that your old bedroom has been left untouched and that all of your clothing and other personal possessions are still where you left them. He also told me that if you were to visit while he was sleeping that I am to give you full access to his personal bank account so you can have any funds you might need in order to survive."

The openly generous act wasn't rare by any means when it came to Carl wanting to help other people, but realizing that he'd always have a home and a family with Carl was enough to ease the lingering ache within Markus's heart. "...No. I'm okay where I am."

"Carl will be happy to hear that."

"Could you tell him that I'll be back to visit him again this evening? I want to spend more time with him but I still have so much work left to handle."

"He understands, Markus. He'd told me many times that he's proud of you and he knew that you'd be able to change the world."

Taking in a steadying breath Markus stepped out of the gallery and stood before David as he extended his right hand and retracted his artificial skin. As David did the same and shook Markus's hand the deviant leader passed on all the information David would need for when he was ready to move on from his primary programming as a caretaker to be someone different. "Thank you for being here for Carl. I appreciate it."

"Of course. Carl is a very kind man and it's my honor to be in his company."

"Take care my, friend. I'll be back as soon as I can."

Taking his reluctant leave of the mansion Markus cybernetically hailed an autonomous cab to take him back to the recently designated 'New Jericho Tower' to resume his responsibilities to his people.

"I know that I've made mistakes." The deviant leader spoke to himself as he watched cab pulling to a gentle stop in front of the mansion. He glanced back at the mansion over his shoulder and gazed at the shaded window to the master bedroom on the second floor. "But they don't have to define me. I will strive to make more positive changes for our people than mistakes. I won't let the shadows blot out of the light of this new world."

The sound of his phone buzzing with an incoming phone call from Captain Fowler had dragged Hank out of his sleep and back into the waking world. Grabbing the phone off his nightstand Hank glared at the display screen and noted that it was past noon, and he confirmed that his shoulders were still sore from digging in the icy ground the night before. Ignoring the call and letting it go to voicemail Hank rose from his bed, trudged down the hallway and checked in on Connor after the deviant endured two nightmarish nights in a row.

Surprisingly the couch was vacant and the quilt had been neatly folded up and left in the middle of the furniture with the pillow atop of it as if Connor had made an attempt to make a bed. It was almost military in style and reminded Hank of how Connor had been forced to live as a perfectionist and obedient machine for the first few months of his life.

"Connor?" Calling out for the deviant Hank caught sight of movement from the corner of his eye as the deviant busied himself in the kitchen. The sound of a porcelain mug being placed down on the countertop and Connor turning on the coffee maker caught his attention. "What're you doing, kid?"

"I was attempting to make you coffee." Standing beside the counter in the black hoodie and sporting 'bed-head' Connor looked impressively human. The only thing that broke the illusion was the yellow L.E.D. pulsing in his right temple. "I also ordered a replacement coffee table since the one I have accidentally damage cannot be fixed. I apologize for waking you."

"Ya' didn't." Holding his phone up for Connor to see Hank brushed the comment off. "Work did."

"...I was referring to last night."

"What?"

"Before you went to bed you instructed me to not wake you up." Pouring fresh food into Sumo's bowl to busy himself Connor knelt down and rubbed the massive dog's ears as he plodded into the kitchen from his pillow in the corner of the livingroom. "I had intended to honor that request but when I suffered from the nightmare I accide-"

"Don't apologize for having shitty dreams, kid. If I apologized for every time I had a nightmare I'd be hoarse."

Nodding a little Connor's posture relaxed at last and he seemed to be coming to terms with his odd little predicament regarding nightmares.

"How's your hand?" The groggy Lieutenant asked as he walked over to the coffee maker and picked up the hot pot of coffee the moment it 'dinged'. He had noticed that the gauze wrapped around Connor's hand was still white which was a good sign, but he still had no idea how android healing programs even worked. "Does it hurt?"

"No. The artificial skin has fully regenerated." Holding up his right hand Connor slowly began unwrapping the gauze with his left fingers and revealed a fully healed and functional hand beneath. "Thank you for helping me."

"No problem." Having poured his coffee Hank added some sugar and sweetener and turned to look at Connor as the deviant stood up from where he was kneeling just a few feet away. "And your other injuries? How about your chest and shoulders?"

"Also healed. I can remove the bandages now."

"Cool."

"...May I ask what we're going to do today?"

"After I finish my coffee I'll listen to Fowler's voicemail. You should go and turn on the news so we know what the fuck's happening in the city right now."

"I can cybernetically tap into-"

"Kid. Humor me, please."

"Y-Yes, of course." Understanding that the request was a means of them both being able to recap the previous days' events together Connor returned to the livingroom and sat down on the couch next to his pillow and quilt. Cybernetically he turned on the television and located a news channel to watch. "I'm certain that regardless of how people feel about the Revolution the aftermath is going to be interesting."

"I can guarantee that 'interesting' is the right word for all the shit that's about to go down, son."

New Jericho Tower was bustling with activity as wounded and homeless deviants were taken to private rooms recover and finally have shelter. The sight of literal thousands of deviants all coming together to support one another was a welcoming image that warmed Markus's heart as he rejoined his people in the middle of the newly designated android sanctuary. Being greeted with kind smiles and respectful nods only made his heart feel all the warmer, but when North approached him and gave him a kiss on the cheek Markus felt that warmth spread over his entire being.

"Everything is going according to plan." North confirmed as she retracted the artificial skin on her right hand and grabbed onto Markus's left hand. He retracted his own skin in response to allow their bare plastimetal palms to connect directly. "Our people are coming to the tower and are leading those who fled to the outskirts of the city to us for aid and shelter."

"Were there any protestors I should be made aware of?"

"None. It's been quiet even though the humans have been slowly returning to the city."

"When did that start?"

"Early this morning. It's mostly the humans who can't afford to leave their work for too long who've already come back."

"As long as everyone remains respectful and does their part to keep the peace then I know we'll be able to coexist with humans without any further problems."

"I hope you're right. I'd hate to think we came all this way just to fail now."

"Never. As long as we keep fighting for our rights and never give up on each other then we'll continue to progress to a better tomorrow." Giving North a small kiss Markus managed a smile and glanced about the lobby and watched as their people worked together to remove all sign of CyberLife from within the now protected walls of the tower. "Where are Simon and Josh?"

"Simon is modifying the emergency repair bay to accommodate as many people as possible. Josh is creating a designated community room to provide group therapy sessions for our people suffering from any form of trauma during the Revolution, or from being abused by humans before they escaped to freedom."

"Good. I'm going to attempt to make contact with the mayor as a reminder that we aren't hostile and that we just want equality. We need to let the world see that we're going to maintain our peaceful presence, and to not to worry about us attempting any further protests."

"Do you think he'll listen?"

"Considering the president of the United States called off the assault on our people and ordered the army to back off I think it's safe to say he'll have no choice but to listen to us, unless he wants to deal with the madame president herself."

North's cinnamon brown eyes lit up with devious delight at the notion. "Now that'd be an interesting little meeting..."

What had been a simple voicemail turned into a full blown argument as Hank called his Captain at the precinct and gave him an earful. Connor sat on the couch with Sumo sprawled out over his lap, and had cybernetically tapped into the call to keep tabs on the discussion at hand. It wasn't the most pleasant or even professional conversation since the two detectives were shouting at each other over the phone rather than speaking to one another in a civil tone. In turn Connor felt a tad uneasy at being caught in the middle of the argument.

"I don't give a FUCK about that shit!" Yelling into the phone Hank paced back and forth behind the couch while Connor gently rubbed at Sumo's ears to keep himself calm. "You suspended my sorry ass when I punched that F.B.I. asshole, and now you want me to come back and clean up his mess? Fuck you!"

'Hank, enough!' It was clear that Captain Fowler was as stressed about the entire situation as Hank was. 'I know you're pissed off but right now I can't afford to sit out your little temper tantrum! Get your sorry ass back in here-'

"Or what? You'll fire me? Go ahead!" Challenging his commanding officer's authority Hank wasn't anywhere close to bluffing as he was incredibly jaded as a detective and just stopped caring years ago. "Fire me and then explain to the higher asses you kiss that you fired me because I didn't come back in after being suspended! Let's see how that wrongful termination case works out!"

'Alright, alright... Look, I'll undo the suspension, remove the disciplinary note from your record and give you full pay for the two days you were gone.'

"Not good enough, Jeffrey."

'What the hell do you want from me, Hank? My hands are already tied as it is, and you're just making things worse.'

"I want you to admit that the F.B.I. fucked this shit up and made things worse, I want you to pay Connor for the consulting work he put in - pay him at MY current salary and not a penny less," giving the deviant a quick look as he walked pass the couch for the umpteenth time during that phone call. "and I want you to let Connor to continue to consult with the precinct with pay until the kid figures shit out and makes his next move."

'I can give it pay for the work it's done, that's easy.' Dropping his voice it was clear that the seasoned police Captain was reluctant to allow a deviant android to work on his roster as a registered police consultant. 'But hiring it on-'

"Jeffrey, those are my terms. If you don't accept, and refer to Connor as a 'HIM' instead of 'IT' then you'll find my resignation letter sign and sealed on your desk tomorrow morning."

'Fuckin'... Fine! Give me a couple of hours to push Connor through as a confirmed consultant and I'll call you back.'

"And his payment?"

'I'll write the check out myself.'

"Okay, good. You call and confirm Connor's place on the roster and THEN I'll come back in, Connor will be with me."

'Deal. I'll call you later, Hank.'

"Yeah, whatever..." Ending the call Hank slipped the phone into his pocket and then gave Connor a smug look. "What do you think of that?"

"I appreciate you ensuring I receive fair payment for my work, but you didn't have to push him to hire me on as a consultant."

"Sure I did."

His hand froze mid pet and Sumo let out a confused grumble until Connor resumed petting his ears. "...You did?"

"Kid, you're the first partner I've had in years who's actually been able to get me interested in solving cases again. Besides, you're a top notch detective. You need the chance to prove that you're more than just a tool with a 'goofy face'." The joke was appreciated even if it didn't elicit a laugh. "You have genuine skill and talent as a detective."

"...Thank you, Hank." The compliment was unexpected and very flattering. His abilities as a detective had never been mentioned as anything but programming and data, not as a genuine skill. "I appreciate it."

"Knowing Jeffrey he'll call me again around six, confirm that we're both on the clock tomorrow, we'll be asked to show up by nine in the morning, and we'll both be given lectures on the new protocols regarding deviant and human interactions. After that you'll probably be put on patrol with Chris or Tina until a deviant case comes our way."

"Why a deviant case?"

"Again, knowing Jeffrey he'll keep you on the deviant cases since you're a deviant, and that will look good for the press."

"Isn't that considered profiling?"

"See?" Almost proud of Connor's reaction Hank confirmed that he was correct about his question. "You're a great detective."

"I wasn't being sarcastic." Connor confirmed as continued to pet Sumo's ears in a comforting manner. "I was making a serious observation."

"And you should bring it up with Jeffrey tomorrow. Don't let him try to hide you in the shadows just because he's uncomfortable with deviants."

"Very well, I'll inform him I'm uncomfortable with being assigned deviant cases based solely on my species as opposed to qualifications. I'll also remind him that discrimination in the workforce is greatly frowned up."

Smirking a little Hank crossed his arms over his chest and gave the deviant a curious glance. "Species?"

"Well, I am my a lifeform that is not human, Hank. By all account deviants are a new species of intelligent life who only appear human."

"Yeah, I guess you're right. So..." Picking at the fabric of the hoodie that was keeping Connor warm and secure Hank gave the deviant a curious stare. "What about your clothes?"

"My clothes?" Looking down at his current attire Connor knew his clothing wasn't exactly uniform appropriate. "My other clothes were left in the bathroom."

"They were pretty beat up, kid. Can you fix bullet holes?"

"If I have a sewing kit I can mend the fabric properly."

Unsure of how to respond to the claim Hank decided to just ask for confirmation instead of assume. "...Seriously?"

"Yes. I can download the appropriate software for such a task and complete it tonight."

"Alright, cool. I'll throw your clothes into the washer and then you can have a clean uniform to wear tomorrow."

"That would be most beneficial. Arriving at the precinct in a uniform that has been damaged by bullets and covered in mud would be less than professional."

"Maybe when you cash your first paycheck you can buy yourself a nice wardrobe and express yourself visually."

"Express myself?"

"Sure, kid. You don't think I wear those bright and colorful shirts because I lost a bet, do ya'?"

"I had originally presumed you chose such shirts because of the potential risk of your clothes becoming irreversibly tarnished while you're working. If you wore clothes you don't truly care for, or are cheap, it'll be less irritating to throw them out in the even they are damaged."

Laughing a little Hank gave Connor an amused shake of his head. "Like I said, you're a top notch detective. You were right about everything except for one detail."

"What's that?"

"I happen to LIKE cheap shirts that are weird looking."

The revelation was entirely surprising to Connor as he known Hank to be very stoic and reserved. "...Can I ask why?"

"Cheap is self explanatory, but the aesthetic goes back to my youth. I was wearing one of those ugly-ass shirts when I went on my first date with my eventual wife, and she happened to love that particular shade of blue I was wearing that night. I bought a ton of identical weird shirts in all patterns and colors just to make her laugh, and in the end I just grew to like the look myself."

"...Oh."

"Anyway, any update on the mayor speaking with the 'two-faced saint' while they kiss each other's asses?"

The comment made Connor's yellow L.E.D. flash to red at the mention of Markus, but he remained calm where he sat. "The meeting will take place at an unspecified time on a classified date at an unknown location to prevent any possible violent backlash."

"Smart move. Probably the only smart move that weasel of a mayor ever made during his sleazy career."

Seeing Hank in a relatively upbeat and calm mood was a wild change for Connor. In the few days that he had known Hank the gruff Lieutenant had been very cold, stand-offish and hostile toward Connor's person. Now he was Connor's only friend; offering him shelter and protection, and was now guiding him along his life as a deviant in an almost paternal manner. Having the chance to see Hank as the kind and compassionate soul that he had tried to hide for so long was an honor in the deviant's young eyes even if Connor himself couldn't truly express or appreciate the sight.

Relaxing where he sat on the couch Connor continued to pet Sumo's ears and watched Hank went about his business with his head held high with a proud sense of accomplishment for looking out for the deviant. The senior detective was growing fond of the deviant and was actually beginning to enjoy his company.

"I wonder if this type of behavior is an act of friendship." Whispering to himself and to Sumo with utter curiosity Connor could feel his guard beginning to lower now that he had what felt like an ally to fall back on. "Hank seems to be sincere in his efforts to assist me."

Sumo's strong tail thumped rhythmically on the old couch and he lifted his head up just enough to lick the right side of Connor's face affectionately.

Dragging his left hand over his drool covered cheek Sumo the deviant gave the lovable dog an odd glance as he managed a very weak grin that disappeared as quickly as it appeared through pure reflex. "...It seems you want to be my friend, too."

-next chapter-