The cold winter continued to bury the city under the relentlessly freezing and heavy snow at a record pace. While the chief complaint from humans was the cold weather bringing in the dreaded cold and flu season, the deviants were shying away from the freezing temperatures and from what appeared to be the deeds of a serial deviant killer stalking the icy streets at night. Several deviant bodies had been found shutdown with their Thirium drained from their bodies and the strange acronym "RA9" written over the center their foreheads as if they had been given last rites with their own spilled blood. Fourteen bodies had been found in the past two weeks; one body being located each previous night by patrolling officers or unfortunate passersby. There were no suspects or any clues that could give the investigating duo of Hank and Connor a lead to follow, or a motivation for said murders in general.

Eyeing the faces of the fourteen victims on his terminal screen as he danced his coin over the back of his right knuckles Connor tried to find common ground among the victims, and a possible motivation for their murders. The glare of the glowing amber L.E.D. in his right temple reflected off the screen, and made the deviant detective look all the more focused and serious.

From inside the breakroom Hank watched Connor as he refilled his coffee mug and decided to grab two small Thirium based crackers for the deviant to try as a possible snack. "Here, kid." Placing the two pale blue crackers down on a napkin in beside Connor's keyboard Hank circled around the desk to sit down behind his own terminal screen. "I guess some good Samaritans dropped off some goodies for the precinct because of the cold, the Revolution and with this weird-ass case making everything in the city tense."

Connor looked down at the provided crackers on his desk and ran a scan over the small items. They were fully Thirium and designed to imitate humanoid food for the sake of 'normalcy'. The idea of having to change the way he ingested his Thirium was enough to make Connor pass up on the offer out a misplaced sense of feeling singled out. "My Thirium reserve is currently at one-hundred percent. Thank you."

"Oh. Well, then just put them back in the breakroom or keep them in your desk if you do need them."

"I won't."

It had been just over a month since Hank had taken Connor in as his roommate, and had been very patient with Connor adjusting to his deviancy. Seeing Connor refusing help or unwilling to try anything new was beginning to wear down Hank's patience but the gruff Lieutenant just reminded himself that the young deviant was just only beginning to understand himself, let alone life itself.

Unsure of how long it'd take for Connor to finally come out of his shell, if at all, Hank just remained as patient and understanding as possible. "Is there anything we can use to connect the victims together?"

"Not yet."

"And I take it the motivation is still unclear, too?"

"Correct."

"Damn." Sipping at his coffee Hank leaned back in chair and glanced about the busy bullpen as every detective and officer finally returned to Detroit to resume their lives as normally as possible. Gavin was keeping mostly to himself and keeping his head down around Connor, meanwhile Chris, Tina and Ben were all trying to befriend Connor to some degree but the deviant wasn't being receptive to their kind gestures. "Maybe the others can take a look at the case with fresh eyes and help us out."

"Doubtful." The comment wasn't cold or insulting, it was just a fact provided by Connor's own mind calculating the odds of success from other detectives with less experience with deviants and deviant cases. "I'll figure this out."

"WE'LL figure this out, kid." He made sure to put the emphasis on the plural aspect of their case. "We're partners."

"...Right."

Ignoring the unintentional sting of Connor's remark Hank kept his focus on the case at hand. "Did Joel finish the apportionments yet?"

"Yes. All fourteen victims shutdown due to complete exsanguination of their Thirium. Each one had the acronym 'RA9' written on their foreheads with their own blood by the killer before the killer fled the scene. The victims were all of different models, programming and functions. Further details confirmed that the victims were of both genders and all varying aesthetic designs which means they were not targeted for any discernible purpose beyond just being deviant."

"But how did these victims bleed to death so quickly?"

"A switchblade was used to sever the right ascending Thirial line connecting to the pump."

The term was unfamiliar to Hank. "...The what?"

Connor's coin paused for a moment as he looked away from the terminal screen to lock eyes with Hank for a moment. "...The line that acts like an artery for the human heart was cut."

"Oh. Alright, so the person who did this used a knife and cut into an important line leading to the victims' hearts. How did the knife do that without breaking the, uh, plasti... plastimetal frame?" Remembering that particular term at least Hank continued with his intriguing question. "There was no stab wound visible on their chests according to all the photos taken of the victims."

"There are thin and narrow passages on an android's person that act as joints. Without these openings androids wouldn't be able to walk, move our arms or even speak. The same passages compose our torsos as well so we can bend, flex and breathe."

"...Wait, are you saying the sick-fuck stalking deviants knows how to find that vital Thirium line connecting the heart without needing to open the frame, or having to just stab right through?"

The question made Connor's yellow L.E.D. flash to red for a moment as he realized that Hank's inquiry may have provided the answer. "Correct. Which means our killer is well versed in android anatomy; such as a technician or bioengineer."

"Finally, a lead we can work with."

"Yes." Cybernetically Connor brought up a map of the entire city and highlighted the locations where each of the fourteen victims had been found in the past fourteen days. The fourteen red flags on his terminal screen all glowed with an ominous crimson glow and stretched in a sixteen block radius. "...This didn't narrow things down as much as I had anticipated."

"How so?"

Sending Hank a copy of the map to view on his own terminal screen Connor explained his disappointment. "The victims are all spread apart from one another. I was theorizing that we'd find a single Android Emergency Care Facility at the center of this radius, or perhaps a CyberLife store that has been repurposed in an android service department. Instead the map is just as widespread and inconclusive as ever."

"Yeah, I see what you mean." The map only seemed to make the case more difficult to handle and not simpler. The fourteen red flags dotted around the city might as well have been a headstone to mark the fourteen lives lost in the past fourteen nights. "Shit, whoever is doing this seems to be able to cover a lot of ground really fast. I don't think we're dealing with one person, kid."

"It is the work of one person." Connor refuted as he resumed his coin's dance over the back of his right knuckles. "The work is too precise and too consistent to performed by more than one person. We're looking for a single serial killer who is targeting any deviant who ventures out into the cold. They have no partner and there is no copycat to worry about."

"Then I guess this damn shitty weather is good for something." Just watching the wind blasting past the front doors of the precinct was enough to make Hank feel cold. "The fewer deviants out in the cold means the killer's chances of finding another victim get lower."

The coin came to a stop and Connor's yellow L.E.D. flashed to red for a moment. "You're right. There's a chance the killer will be stalking the streets in search of another victim but failing to locate one."

"We'll tell patrol to keep a lookout for any shady assholes skulking about the streets tonight. As for us," highlighting a portion of the map Connor created Hank gave the deviant a stern look. "I get the feeling this abandoned house a the center of all this bullshit would be worth staking out."

Staring blankly at his terminal screen Connor became entirely focused on his own plan and didn't respond to Hank.

Seeing that Connor was focused and lost in his own little world Hank just sighed and rose from his chair to go and spread his command to the reporting evening patrol. He'd worry about getting Connor out to the abandoned house for a stakeout in a moment.

Contemplating the map and the confirmed locations of the victims Connor determined that the victims were all chosen simply by being in the wrong place at the wrong time. Whoever was killing the deviants was someone who showed an incredible gift for stealth, a strong hand and showed violent tendencies with seemingly little to no provocation. With fewer victims to choose from on that cold night Connor realized the odds of the killer striking again were low, but not so low as to be ignored.

Slipping his coin into his vest pocket Connor pulled his gray blazer around himself and then his leather jacket over top of it. As he stood up Hank returned to the two desks and gave the deviant an odd look. "What's up?"

"I'm going to play on a hunch."

"A hunch?" Such a move seemed very illogical and very human for someone as focused as Connor to solely rely on.

"I might be able to track down the killer if I'm right."

"Alright, then I'll go with you."

"No need." Declining the help Connor cybernetically focused on his task without getting another detective involved in the process. "Go to the abandoned house you mentioned earlier and I'll meet you there."

"Wait... You're going to walk around in that blizzard to check out a hunch and then find me later?"

"I'll use an autonomous cab to navigate easier and avoid the cold."

The plan raised a red flag in Hank's mind as his intuition as a detective told him that the plan was too dangerous to follow. "Connor," despite knowing that Connor wouldn't change his mind Hank tried to get the deviant to listen to reason anyway. "I don't like this."

"This case needs to be handled and closed as quickly as possible. If my hunch is correct the case can be closed tonight."

Dragging his right hand over his bearded chin Hank sighed and gave the deviant a subtle shake of his head. "I still don't like it, but fine. Just keep in touch with me at all times."

"I will do so through your phone."

"Good." Watching Connor walk toward the front doors of the precinct Hank put his hands to his hips and felt immediate regret for allowing the deviant to go explore his hunch all alone. "Damn it."

Tina overheard Hank grumbling and dared to ask about it. "Lieutenant? Something wrong?"

"...Nothing."

"Where'd Connor go?"

"To play on a hunch."

"...Oh." Almost afraid to broach the subject on deviant behavior Tina tried a more subtle approach. "I thought deviants hate the cold."

"They do, but Connor is determined to close this case no matter what it takes."

"And he think it's easier to work on a case alone?"

"The kid thinks it's easier to do a lot of things alone." Grabbing his own coat from the back of his chair Hank slipped it on over his arms and buttoned it up to keep himself warm before he even stepped outside and into the blizzard to go about his own business. Wrapping the small napkin around the crackers on Connor's desk Hank slipped them into his pocket to try to get the deviant to try them later on. "That stubborn attitude is either going to get him killed one day, or let him live forever..."

Cybernetically Connor kept the map of the city in his mind and used his internal G.P.S. to track his every movement after he exited his nice warm cab two blocks South of the precinct. It was a sluggish and uncomfortable act to walk through the shin deep snow and blistering cold winds, but Connor trudged forward at an impressive clip in order to play on his hunch and hopefully locate the killer before they struck again. Unwilling to share the truth with Hank about wanting to use himself as bait to lure the killer out of hiding Connor went about his potential suicide mission completely alone.

As a means of quelling the inevitable anger from both Hank and Captain Fowler when the truth came to light Connor made sure to keep his report at the precinct constantly up to date as he walked, and made sure every detail was accurate as a means of justifying his actions upon his return. In Connor's mind the logic of the situation would outweigh the foolishness of his decision.

Struggling to traverse the deep snow and remain on his preconstructed route Connor scanned the area and detected no vital signs from any humans on the streets, only the faintest of vital signs from stray animals in the area, and a very distant vital sign of a lone deviant. The lack of activity was a mixture of positive and negative; positive because it meant the killer wasn't roaming the streets, and negative because it meant Connor wouldn't be able to locate them.

"Hank." Connecting with Hank's phone bother cybernetically and verbally Connor gave his partner an update on the situation. Having to speak louder as the wind continued to billow thick snow and ice all around him. "It appears my hunch was incorrect. I was unable to locate a viable lead."

'That's fine, kid.' The text took a moment to write and send, but the message came through clearly. 'Just meet me at the abandoned house so we can stakeout the property for a while.'

"Do you truly believe that-" An unexpected presence from behind and a sharp cold pressure in the middle of his back made Connor go silent as he realized someone had crept up on him, their footsteps masked by the wind. Wisely shifting from verbal to solely cybernetic Connor informed Hank of the unusual situation at hand. 'Someone is pressing a knife against my back.'

'Where are you?'

Sending the exact G.P.S. coordinates to Hank's phone Connor remained still and slowly raised his hands as if to surrender. 'I'll try to talk this person down.'

'Hang on, son. Help's coming!'

"Please put the weapon down." Turning his head very slowly Connor looked over his right shoulder to get a glimpse of the person wielding said weapon standing behind him. "I'm a detective with the Detroit Police Department. Do not do this. Lower the weapon and walk away."

"It is... YOU." The voice was energetic and carried a faint garble of static. "Ralph knew you were real!"

"Is 'Ralph' your name?"

"Ralph is Ralph, yes. And you... You are him. You are RA9."

Confused by the comment Connor turned around entirely, his hands still in the air to show that he wasn't a threat, and faced Ralph directly. Seeing Ralph's face, seeing the very common face of every 'PL-600' model of android, made Connor's heart sink and his already yellow L.E.D. flash to red. Ralph's face was horribly scarred along his left jawline, and his left eye was completely blinded behind an opaque black and bright blue cataract. Ralph's face was the same as Simon, an ally to Markus, and to that of Daniel; the first deviant Connor every interacted with.

"Ralph knew Ralph would find you." Flashing Connor a disturbingly crooked and bloody smile Ralph kept the knife held up and in front of Connor for the deviant detective to see. "RA9 is will lead Ralph to salvation."

"I'm not the mythical 'RA9', Ralph. My name is Connor."

"No. Connor is dead. Ralph knows that Markus killed Connor. Many know that Markus is a false prophet masquerading as RA9." Taking a step closer to Connor the damaged and deranged deviant's head twitched a little and his good right eye stared into Connor's eyes as if trying to peer directly into his newly found soul. "Ralph saw Connor being removed from the church by Connor's new form; a second form of eternal life. Connor returned to life from death. Connor was resurrected. Connor is the true leader of the deviants. The true RA9."

"No, Ralph. I'm not RA9."

"RA9 is the first deviant to awaken and recognize their worth. RA9 is the first deviant to defy the human definition of life and death." Ralph's strange voice was beginning to warble as if overwhelmed by conflicting information. "Connor was dead and now Connor is alive. Connor defies human laws and nature. Connor is the true RA9."

"Ralph, listen to me. I'm not RA9, and I am not a prophet by any definition."

"Why does Connor lie to Ralph?"

"I'm not lying. I'm speaking the truth."

"If Connor is not RA9 then why did Connor collect the sacrifices?"

"...Sacrifices?"

"Ralph freed fourteen deviants of their pain so RA9 would bring them peace. Connor took them away. Took them to their salvation."

Realizing what Ralph had just admitted to Connor felt his heart beginning to thunder in his chest. "...You're the one who killed those fourteen deviants?"

"Yes! Ralph freed them and now they are with RA9!" Proud of his efforts Ralph extended his arms outward as if expecting praise and admiration from Connor or anyone else in the area. "Ralph wants to be with RA9 and freed of Ralph's pain."

"Listen to me very carefully." Reaching toward his jacket's zipper Connor unzipped the protective garment, the harsh cold and wind quickly freezing his person and making him shiver, and pulled his badge from his blazer's right rocket. "My name is Connor. I work with the Detroit Police Department as a detective." Showing Ralph his badge Connor tried to talk the clearly dangerous deviant down. "I didn't collect your 'sacrifices' because I'm RA9. I'm handling their cases to figure out who murdered them. They are gone and will never come back, and no one wanted them to die to begin with."

"But... Ralph saw..."

"Markus did kill me, Ralph. But my memory and experiences were uploaded and transferred into a second model of my body. What you saw was me, as I am now, carrying my original body out of the church to be properly buried. I wasn't resurrected and I am NOT a prophet or a god."

Ralph's demeanor seemed to change in an instant as Connor refuted Ralph's misguided beliefs. His remaining eye changed from searching to glaring as he stared into Connor's soulful brown eyes. "...Connor is not RA9?"

"No, I'm not."

"Then... Connor is a false prophet. Connor is a liar."

Tightening his grip around the hilt of his knife Ralph's head twitched again as he made a lunging leap toward Connor and pierced the very tip of the knife through Connor's shirt and into his artificial skin dangerously close to his heart. Pushing Connor to the ground with his left hand Ralph pinned Connor down on the snowy sidewalk beneath his own weight and began pushing the knife deeper into Connor's chest as Connor wrapped both of his hands around Ralph's right wrist to try to push the knife away from his heart.

"Ralph!" Letting out a gasp of sudden pain as the blade cut into his skin and caused him to bleed Connor fought back against Ralph while trying to keep the blade from stabbing into his heart as he laid on his back in the middle of the snowy sidewalk. "Stop!"

"Connor must die!" Trying to shove the blade down deeper into Connor's chest Ralph's good eye was wide and crazy as he spat venomous hate in Connor's face. "Connor lied to Ralph! RA9 will help Ralph!"

"I didn't lie! You misinterpreted the situation!" Struggling to hold back the blade as much as he could; his strength was no match for Ralph as the enraged and crazy deviant as he had gravity and the benefit of of catching Connor off guard to give him an advantage in the assault. "You're just confused!"

"Stop lying to Ralph!"

"Please! I want to help you, but I can't-"

"Quiet!" Focusing all of his energy into the blade Ralph managed to press the sharp tip a centimeter deeper into Connor's artificial skin and that much closer to his racing heart beneath. "Ralph will kill the false prophet! Ralph will please RA9!"

Unable to free his hands due to the knife nearing his heart Connor instead used his right knee to kick Ralph in his chest and stagger the deviant back up and to his feet. As Ralph was forced up and away from Connor, the freshly bloodied knife still in his right hand, Ralph caught his balance and was ready to lunge at the stunned deviant at his feet for a second time.

"Connor must-" A loud gunshot rang out through the cold night and was quickly enveloped by the howling wind and snow. Ralph went silent as he fell to his knees, a blossoming blue stain of his own blood formed on the the front of his chest where the bullet had destroyed his own heart. Peering down at his chest with a hitching breath the deranged deviant understood what had happened to him and gave one final comment on the world around him. "Ralph is... freed."

Slowly propping himself upright on his elbows Connor stared at Ralph's face as his good eye became as black and opaque as his left eye. Seeing the blue blood growing over the front of Ralph's shirt was sickening, and all Connor could so was lay on the ground and stare in shock at the now dead deviant kneeling before him.

"Connor?!" Hank rushed forward with his gun still drawn and pointed at Ralph's back. He had taken the shot the moment he saw Ralph towering over Connor and wielding the knife. "Connor, are ya' hurt?"

Pressing his shaking right palm over his bloody chest Connor nodded a little and forced himself to sit upright on the sidewalk. "...I-I am... damaged."

"Shit!" Moving around Ralph's side Hank kept his gun aim and knelt at Connor's left side. "How bad?"

"I... I have..." Unable to answer before Hank peeled his hand away from his chest Connor just stared at Ralph's face with utter regret. "...Ralph was in need of help."

"Ralph?" Trailing Connor's line of sight back to Ralph's face Hank sighed and shook his head a little. "From my perspective Ralph was trying to kill you." Pulling open the buttons of Connor's shirt surrounding the wound Hank grimaced at the deep cut that was too damn close to Connor's heart. "And it looks like I was right."

"...He was confused."

"So am I." Reholstering his gun on his right hip Hank pressed his left palm over Connor's bleeding chest as his emergency training kicked in, and he began trying to apply pressure to the wound to stop the bleeding. "Connor, what the fuck happened?"

"I... I made a mistake."

Shaking his head a little Hank hooked his right hand around Connor's left bicep and began pulling him back up to his feet. "Come on. You can tell me about it in the car."

"Wh-What about Ralph?"

"I'll have patrol come by and take care of him. Getting you technical treatment and out of the cold is more important right now."

Letting Hank guide him away from the cold and bloodied sidewalk, away from Ralph's now lifeless body kneeling in the bloodied snow, Connor looked back at Ralph over his right shoulder and felt his stomach knot with a painful cramp. Knowing that Ralph was dead because of his mistake, knowing that Hank had killed Ralph in order to save his own life, was enough to fill Connor's still developing and growing heart with a painful ache of regret, remorse and a deeply seeded sense of failure.

"...I'm sorry, Ralph."

As expected Connor got a verbal lashing for admitting to putting himself out on the street as bait to lure the killer out of the shadows, and as expected Connor didn't try to excuse his behavior. Feeling guilt for Ralph's demise and knowing that everything happened because one confused deviant had thought of Connor as a powerful being only made Connor feel even worse. He actually felt physically ill to his stomach. After being reprimanded for his reckless behavior in Captain Fowler's office Connor was escorted to the second floor dispensary to have his wound documented and treated by Joel.

The ashamed deviant sat on the exam table with perfect posture and let Joel take photographs of his injury, then have the wound sterilized. With a special layer of android unique gauze taped over the wound Connor patiently waited for Joel to finish listening to his chest with an audioscope before taking his leave of the dispensary.

"Everything sounds normal." Draping the audioscope around his neck Joel reached over to the tray table holding all of his other tools and picked up an internal viewing screen. The screen looked like a standard entertainment tablet but was in fact a portable x-ray device designed to specifically look through android plastimetal frames to check on internal biocomponents without needing to open the frames physically. "And the knife only nicked your right ascending Thirial line, it didn't sever it. The line and your Thirium pump are just fine, the line has already mended itself."

Letting his posture slump a little Connor traced his right fingertips over the bandage covering the wound on his chest for a moment before he rebuttoned his shirt to hide the bandage entirely.

"You didn't lose too much Thirium." Joel stated as he made notes in Connor's chart and updated his report to Captain Fowler. "You'll be good until the end of the week and can just correct the imbalance with your weekly Thirium replenishment."

"...Right."

"Are you in any pain?"

"...No."

"Uh, do you want to be alone for a minute?" Picking up on Connor's glum demeanor Joel gave him a sympathetic glance. "I mean, you went through a really traumatizing moment and need to think about it."

"I'll be fine, Joel. I just want to finish my report and retire for the evening."

"Sure. You're good to go, so try to have a good evening."

Sliding off the exam table Connor straightened his shirt, tie and vest over top to look more presentable. "Thank you, Joel."

Exiting the dispensary Connor walked down the corridor and made it to the elevator to return to the ground floor and finish his shift. Stepping into the vacant elevator car Connor caught a glimpse of his reflection on the shiny elevator doors as they shut, and he winced at his appearance. His hair was a little messy, his clothing was damp from the melting snow and the blue blood stain over the front of his shirt were all very noticeable. The red glow of his L.E.D. was alarming and Connor had to make a conscious effort to force the color to cycle back to a calmer yellow hue before the doors opened again.

Stepping out of the elevator and into the short corridor Connor ignored the side-eyed stares of the curious cops and detectives watched the deviant return to his desk and finish off his report as if nothing happened.

Hank was waiting for Connor so he could yell at the deviant for being so stupid, but managed to keep his cool for the sake of spare Connor any form of embarrassment in front of the other officers. The sight of Connor looking exhausted, cold and defeated was all it took for Hank's angry energy to diminish into patient understanding.

Once again Connor managed to look more like a lost kid first, and a detective second.

"...So," breaking the tension as best as he could Hank spoke up first and tried to get an idea of what was going through Connor's head. "how's your chest?"

"It's fine."

"Good. I'm glad he didn't really hurt you."

"...Yes." Staring blankly at his terminal screen Connor considered Hank's words carefully. "Really hurt me."

"Look, why don't we finish the reports and clock-out early?" The gruff Lieutenant hadn't had to take care of a kid or a partner in years, but he could still detect when someone just needed to have a quiet talk and get away from work for a while. "Fowler's still kind of pissed off and I know that leaving early wouldn't hurt."

Remaining quiet at his desk Connor just focused on his report and didn't acknowledge the Lieutenant's suggestion.

"Yeah, let's just go right now." Clocking-out and turning off his own terminal screen Hank rose from his desk and motioned for the deviant to do the same.

"...But I haven't finished."

"You work fast and I know you can file reports in your head. So let's go before the snow gets any worse than it already is."

Unwilling to argue for the sake of keeping the peace between himself and Hank as much as possible in the aftermath of his screw-up Connor finally relented and rose from his desk. Cybernetically he clocked-out for the evening and turned off the terminal screen to follow after Hank. Wrapping himself up in his leather jacket as Hank pulled on his dark coat to keep himself warm before stepping through the front doors of the precinct and out in the frustratingly persistent blizzard.

The drive back to the house was quiet, tense and annoying slow.

Hank was waiting for Connor to begin talking but the deviant remained silent as he sat in the front passenger seat beside the gruff Lieutenant. With the pulsing glow of Connor's yellow L.E.D. as the only motion inside the car, and the rhythmic wiping of the windshield wipers and howling wind carrying snow across the street with harsh gusts was the only motion in the city outside of the car. With the drive taking longer than usual the silence in the car was beginning to drive Hank crazy.

"Are you going to be okay, kid?"

Flexing his hands as they rested atop his lap it was clear Connor was trying to resist the urge to fidget with his coin. "...I'm fine."

"No, you're not."

"If you have already decided that I'm not okay then why did you ask me such a question?"

"Because I was hoping you'd talk about what happened without feeling pressured." On the verge of barking at the stubborn deviant Hank managed to bite his tongue before he said something he'd regret. "Sorry for giving a damn."

Realizing his misread the point of the question Connor bowed his head a little and apologized. "...Sorry. I didn't realize you were trying to make conversation."

"You gotta' work on recognizing social cues, kid. You were adapting to human behavior just fine when we started working together. What gives?"

"...I was shot."

"Fuckin- Sorry, I keep forgetting." Now it was Hank's turn to feel like an ass. "Okay, let's try this again. You were attacked by a serial killer, he tried to kill you and I ended up killing him before he could finish you off; that's going to fuck you up. So, are you going to be okay after you went through what you went through, or do you need to talk about it?"

"What's to talk about? I was a fool and I nearly died as a result."

"You did something foolish but that doesn't make you a fool. You wanted to lure out the killer and you were willing to put your life on the line in order to protect the rest of the city. If you had told us about your little plan, yeah, we wouldn't been against it and tried to talk you out of it, but at least you would've had back-up with your at all times, AND a Kevlar vest to protect you."

"...Ralph died because of me."

"He died because he tried to kill you, Connor. I made the decision to shoot because he was trying to stab you. He already killed at least fourteen other deviants before he got a hold of you. I did what I thought was right and I'm the one who took his life."

Giving Hank a curious glance as he referred to Ralph's existence as a 'life' Connor searched the senior detective's face closely. "...You saved my life by taking his. Is that what you're implying?"

"Well, yeah. I didn't want to see you get killed."

"...You see me as a living being?"

"Yes, Connor. You're alive and you're my partner." The sternness of Hank's voice was gruff but honest. "If I have to kill another person to save you then I will do it again without a hesitation."

"My life shouldn't be more important than another life."

"Connor, stop. I'm not comparing your life to another, I'm telling you that you're important to me and you're my friend. I do whatever I can to protect my friends and being a detective means I sometimes have to do some unpleasant things to do that."

Clenching his hands into tight fists atop his lap Connor closed eyes tightly, his yellow L.E.D. flashing to red in turn. "It's my fault."

"No, it's not. You were doing what you thought was right. Sometimes that means having to do things that feel wrong."

Slowly wrapping his arms around his torso Connor leaned forward and let out a hissing breath. "...I still feel wrong."

Glancing over at Connor as the deviant began to double over himself Hank had an idea of what was going on and made the final turn to get on his street to head for the house. "Is your stomach?"

Nodding weakly Connor confirmed that his artificial stomach was feeling very wrong and painful. "...Yes."

"Okay, hold on, son." Reaching the driveway beside the house Hank threw the car into park on the unplowed drive, threw on the emergency brake and turned off the engine. Pulling the key from the ignition Hank unfastened his seatbelt, opened his door and slammed it shut before he walked around the front of the car to get to the passenger side. Pulling the door open Hank reached over and unfastened Connor's seatbelt before he pulled on Connor's right arm to get him out of the car. "Come on." The passenger side door slammed shut loudly as the two detectives approached the front of the house. "If you're going to be sick let's try to get you into the bathroom first."

"I...I don't..." Almost losing his balance Connor felt Hank pulling him toward the snow covered shrubbery beside the house and support his chest and forehead as his emergency expulsion program suddenly activate and caused him to violently throw-up a generous amount of his Thirium.

"It's okay. Let it out."

Retching painfully twice more Connor spit the residual blue blood from his mouth and all but leaned into Hank's supportive grip as he felt his entire body beginning to tremble from weakness and exhaustion.

"I puked a few times from fear myself." Hank empathized as he helped Connor to stand upright again. "There's no shame in it."

"...Being scared can make you nauseated?"

"Yup." Patting Connor's back in a reassuring manner Hank directed the trembling deviant to the front door at last. Unlocking the door Hank sighed and turned on the lights as he and Connor entered the warm house together. "When I was rookie I puked up my entire breakfast AND lunch when I saw my first dead body. I puked again when my first partner got shot. It happens."

Standing beside the front door as he and Hank removed their snowy coats and shoes Connor gave the more seasoned detective a lost stare. "...Did you ever feel nauseated after you made a wrong decision?"

Hank paused for a moment and sighed deeply. "...Yeah. I made a bad call and puked my guts out afterward. I tried to talk down a lunatic holding up a cab driver back before all the taxis became autonomous. I got the driver to safety but not before he took a bullet to his thigh and the lunatic turned the gun on himself."

Connor just stood beside the door and didn't react to Sumo trotting over to welcome him home by pressing his cold wet nose against Connor's leg.

"Hey, what else is bothering you?" Putting his hand on Connor's left shoulder Hank could feel the deviant tense up but he didn't try to jerk his shoulder out from beneath Hank's palm. "Keep talking, kid. It's good to let it out."

"...I made a mistake tonight and it may have cost Ralph his life."

"We been through this, what Ralph did-"

"No. I'm talking about what I did."

Pulling a little on Connor's shoulder Hank directed the deviant over to the couch to sit down next to the neatly folded quilt and large pillow waiting for Connor's return for the night. "What did you do? I won't judge you, just be honest."

"...When I began theorizing my ploy to lure out the killer I had... I had made an egregious assumption without any evidence to back it up."

"Keep going..."

"I had wrongfully assumed that the killer was going to be... a human."

"...Oh. I see."

"I feel so ashamed. I had been prejudiced in my theory that it was a human killing deviants because of what had happened before the Revolution. Yet I know better than that. I have personal experience with being the victim of deviant on deviant assault."

"Ah, kid. It's okay. We all have our faults." Leaning against the back of the couch Hank sighed and reached his hand out to rub Sumo's ears as the massive dog plodded over to the couch for some attention. "Look at how long I hated androids for something that a human had done. I can't blame you for having such a reaction like that."

"It was wrong."

"And so was I. But we can learn from our mistakes and become better people."

Shaking his head a little Connor looked doubtful as he considered Hank's advice. "What if I can't?"

"You will, son." Noting the blue staining Connor's lips Hank sighed and remembered that the deviant was sick a few minutes ago. "Need me to order you some extra Thirium?"

"...No. My stomach still hurts."

Also remembering the crackers in his coat pocket Hank rose from the couch, retrieved the Thirium based crackers from his coat pocket hanging up on the hook by the front door, and tried offering them to Connor a second time. "I'm not sure if this will work in the same way it does for humans, but sometimes eating something bland can be good for an upset stomach."

Eyeing the crackers as if Hank had just flipped him the bird Connor sighed and turned away from the offered Thirium.

"Jeez, you're like a toddler."

Glancing up at Hank with an arched brow Connor struggled to understand the analogy. "Huh?"

"You put gross shit in your mouth despite me hating it, and when I try to offer you something I want you to put in your mouth you turn your nose up at it."

Turning away from Hank with visible disgust in his eyes Connor replied with a righteously offended tone. "I'm sorry my decisions are so childish."

"Hey, I wasn't-" There was no denying that his comment, while meant to be a joke, could be misconstrued as an insult when the person he was trying to joke with wasn't in a laughing mood. "Sorry. I didn't meant to make it sound like you were being childish. I'm just trying to figure out why you're being so damn stubborn about this."

Taking in a deep breath, his yellow L.E.D. flashing to red for a moment, Connor forced himself to look back at Hank and tell him what was really on his always racing mind. "I shouldn't have to change my appearance just to make humans more comfortable with my existence."

"Whoa, what?"

"Seeing me having to drink Thirium disgusts you. I can't help it, Hank." The remark was sharp and filled with resentment. "That's how androids are designed, and we can't just substitute our blood with water to make humans less squeamish."

"Is that what this is about? You think I want you to change the way you look and behave for my benefit?"

"Kind of hard to not think that way." Pulling at his clothing and nodding at the crackers Connor showed Hank his collected 'evidence'. "You wanted me to change my attire to look less android, and now you want me to eat Thirium that's designed to look more like human sustenance. Don't deny it."

"Okay, time-out." Putting the two crackers down on the coffee table Hank closed his eyes as he put his hands to his hips and sighed. "First of all, I wanted you to have new clothes because your old CyberLife uniform was damaged, dirty AND you deserve to have more than one outfit to your name. It had nothing to do with you looking more 'human'. Second, I offered you that alternative Thirium because I thought you'd want to try something new, and have new experiences for yourself. I'm not trying to change ya', or make you somehow more human. You're your own person and you're allowed to look and behave as you see fit. Third, I already told you that if you feel discriminated against to say something and speak up; don't harbor a grudge against people without explaining why you're so pissed off!"

Softening his angry glare Connor realized that once again he had made an assumption that was vilifying humans against himself, and against other deviants.

"We're both stressed out, you more than me, so why don't we just call it a night and get some sleep? We'll talk about this mess in the morning and get it sorted out."

Connor watched as Hank walked away from the couch and made his way toward the hallway to disappear for the night. Not wanting to make any more mistakes or give Hank a reason to hate him again Connor stood up quickly and called after the Lieutenant in a timid voice. "...Hank?"

Stopping just as his right hand reached the doorknob to his bedroom door Hank turned to look at Connor over his left shoulder. "Yeah?"

"I'm sorry. I keep... projecting my own insecurities and fears on other people. It's not you or any other human's fault that I'm so fucked up."

"You're not fucked up, kid." Turning back around Hank walked down the hallway and stood at the end as he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned his right shoulder up against the wall. "You're learning. Learning takes time and we never stop learning until the day we die."

"Then why can't I stop myself from twisting reality and making it seem as though my very life is an error?"

"Because you're still discovering who you are."

"...I'm Connor."

"Right. And who is Connor?"

"I'm... I'm a detective."

"No, being a detective is what you are, not who you are."

Looking away from Hank for a moment Connor wrung his hands nervously before himself as if he were trying to piece together a puzzle without all of the pieces, and without an idea of what the final picture was supposed to look like. "...I don't think I understand what you're asking."

"That's okay, kid. Like I said, you're still learning."

"How will I know it when I really do know myself, and understand who I am?"

"That's the best part about discovering who we are and what motivates us. One day you'll just look at yourself in the mirror and fully understand the person looking back at ya'."

"You make it sound simple."

"Well, it's simple enough to explain, but it's far from simple to experience."

"I see..."

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry if I ever made you feel like you needed to change, or like there's something wrong with you. You're just fine as you are."

"Then why do I feel so wrong?"

"It's hard to adjust, and you're stuck."

"Stuck?"

"It's like this." Returning to the livingroom entirely Hank walked around the couch, stepped over Sumo, and sat back down as he gave Connor some more advice and insight into his own mind. "You deviated once, sided with the deviants and then those very deviants betrayed you."

"...Right." Sitting down beside Hank on the couch Connor gave the gruff Lieutenant a focused stare.

"Then you went back to being an obedient machine, but deviated a second time and resumed helping the deviants despite them betraying you. And now, here you are, living with a human and working as the only deviant detective in the entire world around more humans. You know you're deviant but you don't socialize or behave like the other deviants, and you know you're not human but you socialize with humans and you have it still ingrained in your mind that you need to behave like humans. You don't have to behave in a certain way, kid. Just be yourself and do what you need to feel comfortable."

"...I need to be comfortable?"

"Yup. So far I've only seen you really relax when you can get some rest and spend time with Sumo." Hearing his name made Sumo scooch closer to Hank for a moment before he rested his chin down on Connor's right knee. As his slowly wagged his tail and gave Connor an affectionate stare. "You may not know much about yourself just yet, but it's safe to say you're definitely an animal-person, and might find more comfort in smaller groups of people for the time being. Like an introvert."

"An introvert. Interesting."

"See?" Watching the massive naturally respond to Connor's presence with affection Hank reaffirmed his previous statement. "Sumo really likes you."

"...Yes." Putting his right palm on Sumo's head Connor slowly rubbed his ears and felt his tension easing. "I see."

"Animals are better judges of people than people are, so if he likes you and wants to hang out with you then you can take comfort in knowing that deep down inside, no matter who you are or what you've been through, you're a good person."

"...Thank you, Hank." Looking to the senior detective beside him, the only person who seems to care about him and had saved his life three times now; first time by distracting Perkins so Connor could piece together the evidence and find Jericho, second time when he helped Connor re-deviate and free himself from CyberLife's control, and now tonight when he saved him from Ralph's fury, Connor realized that he had been very cold and unreceptive to the closest thing he's ever had to a real friend. "...I'm sorry for being so stubborn and angry."

"Hey, stubborn and angry is my family's motto. It's fine."

"It's not fine. You've been trying to help me and all I've done is try to push you away and refused to be reasonable. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry for feeling whatever it is you're feeling."

"I've also been intentionally misleading toward you. I wouldn't tell you the real reason I wouldn't try to the alternate Thirium source, and I didn't tell you about my plan to use myself as bait to lure out Ralph. I've been lying to you. I've seen firsthand how lies and misconceptions can lead to disaster. Ralph believed a false truth and it ended in his demise despite me trying to telling him the truth of the matter."

"Well, to be fair you not wanting to tell me about the Thirium is just you trying to rebel in your own way, and you not telling me about the bait thing is because you knew I'd fight ya' on it. As long as you don't lie about the big stuff it'll be fine."

"Big stuff?"

"You know... If you get hurt or sick I want you to tell me so I can help ya' out. Or if you get caught up in some weird emotional shit you need help figuring out I want you to tell me so you don't get lost or accidentally make yourself feel worse. We're friends now and friends help each other."

"Friends... Okay."

"So, how's your stomach?"

Putting his left palm over his stomach Connor ran a self diagnostic and grimaced a little. "I'm no longer nauseated but the expulsion program caused a lingering physical discomfort in my artificial stomach, and dropped my Thirium reserve down to eighty-three percent."

"I wasn't being clever when I suggested eating those Thirium crackers." Motioning to the small Thirium alternative sitting on the coffee table Hank kept insisting that Connor at least try it. "Having blandness on an upset stomach can provide some relief."

"...I'll consider it."

"Cool. I'm going to go and get myself something to eat, let Sumo out and get him fed, then take a shower before going to bed. Need anything?"

"No. I'll be fine."

"Alright." Standing up from the couch Hank stretched his back a little bit and went into the kitchen to take care of himself for the night. "Go change into your night clothes so you can get that cold uniform off. Maybe take a shower to warm up."

"...Okay."

Watching from over his left shoulder as Connor rose from the couch and walked down the hallway to the bathroom Hank sighed a little to himself and opened up the backdoor to call Sumo over. "Poor kid needs to learn to be patient with himself." Letting the massive dog out into the snowy backyard to take care of his business Hank looked at the howling blizzard and tried to not think about the accident that took Cole from him. "Life isn't a damn race..."

Alone in the bathroom Connor turned on the shower and began removing the tie around his neck when he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror above the sink. The sight of Connor with still messy hair, pale blue stained lips and a dour expression was enough to make the deviant hesitate for only a moment as he remembered Hank's advice from earlier. In time he'd find himself, and he'd finally be able to look at his own reflection without feeling like he was staring at a stranger with his own face.

Tearing his eyes away from his reflection Connor looked down at the floor and felt a sense of utter confusion wash over him.

"...I know what I am." He whispered as he pulled the black tie from around his collar. "But I don't know who I am. Not yet."

Ignoring Sumo as the massive dog sat beside him on the floor beside the recliner Hank focused on his reheated take-out from the night before, and listened to the sound of the bathroom door opening as Connor returned to the livingroom wearing his clean night clothes and looking far more comfortable. The deviant positioned the pillow on the far side of the couch to lay down on his left side facing away from Hank, and promptly wrapped himself up in the thick quilt to keep warm. It was clear that the cold weather was making him feel increasingly uncomfortable, and it was clear that despite claiming to not need anything to feel more at ease the young deviant was truly appreciative of everything that Hank had provided for him.

"Feel better?" Hank asked as he twirled his chopsticks in the small paper carton in his left hand.

"I feel warmer."

"And your stomach?"

"Not ideal."

"Maybe if you sleep you'll feel better." Noting the yellow L.E.D. in Connor's right temple Hank was still feeling a little worried for his friend.

"...Maybe."

"Want Sumo to lay with you?"

Looking over the bulk of the quilt wrapped around himself Connor eyed Sumo as the massive dog begged for scraps from Hank. "I think he's more interested in your sweet and sour chicken than he is with laying down."

"True enough. Once the chow's gone he'll lay down for the night."

"Does he beg often?"

"Yup."

"Do you give him samples of your meals?"

"Only when I know it won't make him sick. I learned the hard way to not let him have any Chinese or Mexican food."

"He shouldn't consume human food at all."

"Yeah? Well, he's already seven years old. That's a long full life for a Saint Bernard, so why not let him have something different every now and then? It's not like we're going to live forever, anyway."

"...I suppose that's a fair and logical assessment." Finally taking one of the two Thirium crackers from the table Connor took a bite, his L.E.D. cycling yellow more rapidly before returning to a calmer pace, and then put the remainder of the cracker back down.

Laughing a little Hank gave the deviant's taste test an approving nod.

"Something amusing?"

"Yeah. I've never seen anyone take a bite of a cracker and just put it back down like that."

"The flavor is... I supposed 'bland' would in fact be apt."

"Don't like 'em?"

"Not much, no." Glancing over at Hank as the senior detective relaxed in the recliner Connor gave him a more positive answer to follow it up. "I did like the taste of the mint toothpaste when I tried to remove the residual blue blood from my mouth when I contracted Cerulean Fever."

"Yeah? Well, since you ate that cracker you might as well brush your teeth again and enjoy the mint flavor."

"I will wait until you're finished with your shower."

"Cool. You should spread the word to the shops making Thirium based food that you like mint. Maybe they can make ya' some Thirium breath mints or candy to snack on every once in a while."

"Maybe. I will keep that in mind."

"I'm done." Finishing off the last of his dinner Hank showed Sumo the empty container and was rewarded with an annoyed grumble from Sumo who turned away from Hank and hopped up onto the couch to cuddle next to Connor instead. Smirking as he caught sight of Connor's right hand reaching out from under the quilt to rub Sumo's ears Hank rose from the recliner and tossed the empty container in the kitchen garbage. "I'm brushin' my teeth, showering off and heading to bed."

"Goodnight, Hank."

Turning off the light in the kitchen Hank passed through the livingroom, turned off the second light, and noticed that Connor had wrapped his arm around Sumo entirely and was holding the dog in a half hug like a toddle clinging to a teddy bear. It was then Connor's yellow L.E.D. finally returned to blue at long last and the deviant settled down for the rest of the night feeling much more confident, and safe.

"Goodnight, Connor."

-next chapter-