The day started off as routinely as expected for Hank and Connor, but the quiet morning slowly became louder and more hectic as a large apartment building downtown burst into flame after a cook brewing up an illegal batch of 'red ice' passed out from the fumes, and their lab erupted into a massive fireball of toxic air and sharp debris. The apartment at the heart of the chaos was on the top floor of the eight floor building which meant the neighbors were able to get to the ground floor to evacuate and get to safety, but the person responsible for the explosion was still trapped in the burning apartment and in need of rescue. Since 'red ice' had been the culprit of the fire; the red tinted smoke and infamous smell confirming the cause of the fire, Hank's presence had been requested to the scene by the fire department due to his expertise on the drug, and as such Hank found himself standing beside a fire engine right alongside Connor as they watched the smoldering apartment of the eighth floor burn itself into ash.

It seemed the only true victim of the fire was the lone occupant of the burning apartment, while the neighbors were just suffering from mild smoke inhalation and fear as they were checked over by the responding paramedics running triage in the parking lot of the building. The two responding fire departments themselves were setting up holographic barricades to keep people back and they doused the flames from below and continued to evacuate the building, and kept the scene as secured as possible.

"Think the asshole who started this mess survived that fire?" Hank's blue eyes were focused on the flames devouring the burning apartment on the eighth floor warily. He'd seen his fair share of 'red ice' labs explode in the past and he knew that the odds of someone surviving the explosion were always painfully and somewhat suitably low. "The fire department hasn't found the tenant just yet, and if they haven't found them by now I doubt they ever will."

"Statistically the odds of someone escaping a fire on the eighth floor of any structure are only two point six percent." Dancing his coin over his right fingertips and knuckles Connor's scanner swept over the building, causing his usually blue L.E.D. flicker in yellow for a moment. "Knowing that the fire originated within the center of an apartment rather than inside of a wall or the ceiling around or above the apartment, has reduced the survival rate to zero point two percent."

"Seems about right... Hard to feel bad for someone dying in a fire when they're the one who started it."

Slipping his coin back into his right vest pocket Connor downloaded information on the tenant residing within the apartment and gave Hank an update. "The lone occupant of the apartment is a former police officer."

"Said what now?" Turning to look Connor in the eyes Hank gave the deviant an incredulous look. "An ex-cop did this?"

"Correct."

Pausing for a moment Hank looked back up toward the apartment and sighed despondently. "...Name."

"Gerard Calder."

"Calder... Wait, that asshole retired?"

"He was quietly asked to retire three weeks prior." Connor's tone dipped slightly as he spoke honestly. "...I may have been responsible."

"Do I want to know why you're somehow mixed up in this mess?"

"It appears that my attempt to keep my mind preoccupied by checking into cold cases had inadvertently pulled my attention toward a potential dirty shooting of two teenage boys without just cause. Calder claimed he was defending himself but his report contradicts the evidence. There was no plausible way that the two occupants of the vehicle he pulled over would've been able to pull a gun on him without getting a single shot off, while he got off three perfectly aimed shots in return."

"Let me guess, the teenagers were black and in a predominantly 'white neighborhood'. Right?"

Connor's blue L.E.D. flashed to yellow with intrigue. "Correct. How did you know?"

"Calder was a true bigot. He hated anyone without a snow-white complexion, or a dick. If you weren't a white male then you weren't worth his time, and it wasn't a secret."

"That's very upsetting."

"Yup, we know. That's why he never got promoted and was kept on traffic patrol instead of handling any cases where he needed to talk to victims. One of his buddies has a higher rank and kept using their pull to keep his ass on the precinct despite him being a walking, talking lawsuit waiting to happen." Crossing his arms over his chest Hank watched the shrinking flames being drowned by water overhead and lamented the idea of exploring the smoldering apartment of a crooked cop. "So, you nosing around in cold cases finally got his ass canned... Which cold case brought you to his name?"

"There was an investigation into the apartment group suicide at the abandoned rail station near New Haven where three teenagers, two black females and one Hispanic male, apparently hung themselves. Calder was the first to the scene and claimed he saw the trio sneaking into the station which is why he went to investigate. His reported time of seeing the trio trespass didn't line up with the coroner's determined time of death for the three victims."

"Meaning... what?"

"The victims couldn't have possibly snuck inside the building, tied their nooses, jumped from the beam where the ropes had been tied and suffocated within the two minutes between Calder seeing them entering the building and then reporting that they were dead. Also, none of the three victims had suffered broken necks when they jumped, which is statistically so low it's viably impossible."

"...Calder killed those teenagers made it look like a damn suicide?"

"That was my theory. The three victims had strangulation marks around their necks from the rope, and they had scratch marks around their chins and throats from where they had tried to get the rope loose before they succumbed to asphyxiation. The group of friends had no sign of suicidal tendencies or depression, their parents confirmed that their children were all mentally healthy and happy - their school and classmates confirming the statements as well, which makes the concept of the trio committing suicide all the more suspicious."

"You knew he did it based on your own scans and evidence, but couldn't pin anything conclusive on him."

"Correct." Glancing up at the fire Connor's mouth ticked a little and he felt a twinge of guilt. "He was already reviled at his precinct and it made it very easy for Internal Affairs to push him toward the door. Until you mentioned his pattern of bigotry in the past I hadn't considered the staged suicide as a hate-crime."

"So a dirty fuckin' cop got fired and resorted to cooking drugs to keep making money... Pathetic."

A firefighter who had been handling the blaze walked over to Hank and gave him a simple nod. "Everyone was accounted for, and only one victim has been found inside the apartment."

"Calder?"

"That's him. Well, we think it's him." Admitting that the body was severely burned by the blaze the firefighter looked uneasy discussing it. "We'll need dental records to confirm an identity."

"That asshole never smiled a day in his damn life, I don't think he even has a dental record."

"You're both cleared to check out the apartment, just stick to the stairwell while going up and try not to puke at the smell of burned flesh when you get up to the eighth floor."

"No promises about the puking part." Motioning for Connor to join him Hank sighed and made his way toward the stairwell to check out the mess left behind by a dirty cop no one was going to miss. "Let's see what the hell that asshole was doing before he died, and then we can let the families he screwed over know that he's now dead, and he died in a horrible way."

"Noted."

Climbing the stairwell at a steady pace Hank looked upward and let out a breathy sigh as they reached the fourth floor and then looked back down at the bottom of the stairwell where he and Connor had ascended. "Half way there..."

"I've downloaded the appropriate dental records to identify Calder's body." Along with his and Hank's voices echoing off the walls the only sound to be heard were their steady footsteps on each concrete step as they continued their climb. "Once we have confirmation I'll be sure to isolate the correct names from the cases that Calder had sabotaged to ensure their families they they can have some form of closure."

"Good plan."

Upon reaching the eighth floor Hank stepped through the large door that had been kept open to make it easier for people to evacuate and made his way toward the smoldering remains of the apartment. The sight of firefighters sweeping the area with hoses and fire retardant foam was always unsettling no matter how many times Hank had seen it in his career.

Connor stepped forward and walked past Hank to get inside the apartment to begin their investigation. "I'll enter first and chronicle the remaining 'red ice' while I check for toxic fumes and identify the remains."

"Yeah, let me know if he's in a body-bag, will ya'? I'm not in the mood to puke at a dead man's charred face."

"Of course, I'll only be a moment."

Standing outside the apartment door Hank eyed the thick black scorch marks that had destroyed the door as the flames ate through the apartment seeking more oxygen and substances to burn through. The smell of charred wood mixed with burnt carpet, and the noxious chemicals used to make 'red ice' was bad enough. But all of that mixed with the unmistakable stench of burnt flesh and hair was nauseating and haunting.

Within the apartment Connor knelt down beside the scorched remains of the body concealed under a white sheet and pulled back the sheet from the victim's face long enough to run a scan over their teeth, and compare it to the dental records in his database. "I'm sorry you died alone, Calder." The records lined up perfectly, there was no mistaking their identity. "But I'm not sorry that you suffered and died by your own corrupt and greedy hand."

Replacing the sheet Connor stood up and began examining the ashes of the table in the destroyed kitchen where Calder had been cooking his 'red ice'. It was clear that the volatile chemicals hadn't been mixed properly and were left too close to the Bunsen burner for too long. The extreme heat caused the glass containers to burst into flame and explode with enough force that if Calder had woken up despite passing out from the fumes on the livingroom floor it would've rendered him unconscious a second time. There was no plausible way that he would've left the apartment alive that afternoon.

"Hank?" Calling to the senior detective through the opened door Connor walked away from the ruined lab and waited for Hank to join him inside the ashen remains of the former apartment. "I've confirmed that the victim is Gerard Calder and that his 'red ice' lab exploded. No foul play beyond Calder's own misdeeds and actions."

"Great. Easy case closed."

"I imagine that Calder would've had a contact to help him sell the 'red ice' since he was a disgraced cop."

Entering the apartment Hank eyed the white sheet covering Calder's body and then looked back to Connor's face. "Most likely. Keep a sharp out for anyone lurking near this apartment looking to salvage whatever 'red ice' managed to survive the fire. I'm going to speak with the arson investigator and get a timeline for when this shit started, and then talk to the landlord to find out how long Calder's been here."

Nodding a little Connor agreed to the plan and set about examining the rest of Calder's destroyed apartment in search of anything else of interest. It was possible that Calder had stolen physical case files or evidence connecting him to other corrupt activity, and Connor was determined to find it all.

Walking down the short hallway leading into the rear bedroom Connor began checking for anything of interest in the large closet when he heard the very faint but unmistakable sound of a window being pushed open from another room in the apartment. Scanning the area Connor slowly exited the bedroom and stared down the hallway in time to see the smoke stained bathroom door open up with a shuddering squeak and a man in his mid-forties that had a thick hoodie on over his person with the hood up and over his head to conceal his identity creeping down the hallway toward the kitchen.

Connor watched as the man crept down the hallway, made sure no one was looking inside the apartment and watching him through the missing front door, and then walked over to the table where the 'red ice' lab had exploded, in search of the infamous drug among the ash. Connor cybernetically informed Hank that someone just broke into the apartment through the bathroom widow via fire escape and was now looking for 'red ice' to steal.

"Put your hands in the air." Connor ordered with authority in his voice as he walked up behind the man silently. "Detroit Police."

The man turned around with wide eyes that were a mixture of fear and a drug induced high, and stared at Connor in shock. Not expecting to see anyone inside the apartment, especially a cop, the man panicked and dropped the ash covered bags of drugs in his arms as he bolted out of the apartment through the door to try to escape.

"Stop!" Shouting again Connor chased after the man and pursued him down into the stairwell to arrest him. "Don't move!"

Racing into the stairwell with grace and impressive speed Connor managed to catch the man as he reached the sixth floor landing and grabbed onto both of his shoulders to pull the man backward, and then pulled both of the man's arms behind his back to pin him in place, chest first, against the wall. As Connor's scanner picked up on the 'red ice' in the man's system the man suddenly kicked off of the wall with both feet and pushed Connor backward over the edge of the landing to begin a horrible six floor free fall.

With his arms still pinned behind his back and Connor's grip still around his forearms the man took part in the fall as well and had no way to stop himself. Unable to break free, unable to stop himself from falling, the man just shouted in fear and swore as he and Connor plummeted six floors to the concrete landing of the ground floor beneath them.

Instinctively Connor tried to change his position as he fell but couldn't do so since he was hanging onto the man's arms. Unable to do anything to spare himself from the brunt impact of the sudden stop waiting for him at the end of the fall the deviant closed his eyes and held his breath as flashbacks to his horrible fall from the rooftop of the towering apartment building almost a month priot filled his mind.

A sharp pain accompanied by a sickening 'snap' filled the stairwell as Connor's right leg below his knee collided with the railing of the first floor landing, and broke the limb in half with a catastrophic fracture. Before Connor's system could even register the damage to his right leg Connor lost the breath he was holding as he landed hard on his right side and fractured the plastimetal frame near the upper right side of his chest.

The pain and impact was enough to stun Connor's processor for a moment leaving him vulnerable and semiconscious on the ground floor landing of the stairwell. Laying on his right side and motionless as the suspect laid on his back; his neck broken and resting at a lethal angle, Connor barely heard Hank's voice as the senior detective called down to him from the floors higher up.

"-nor?! Connor!" Rushing down the stairwell with two firefighters right behind him Hank made his way down the ground floor to check on his injured partner and the suspect that the deviant had attempted to arrest before falling. Stepping over the suspect's body Hank knelt down beside Connor and lightly put his left palm atop of Connor's left shoulder to check on the downed deviant as Connor's L.E.D. cycled in yellow at a slow pace against the floor. "Connor, can you hear me?"

"...I-I can... hear you." Speaking in a low voice that was shaking with an electronic reverb Connor acknowledged Hank's presence. "...I am... conscious."

"Thank fuck." Looking over his shoulder as the two firefighters checked on the suspect Hank sighed when the first firefighter gave Hank a sorrowful look and shook his head. The suspect had died upon impact from his broken neck. "How badly are you hurt?"

"I... I have broken my right leg and fractured my... right axial frame along my upper chest."

"You 'axial frame'?" Hank's hands moved automatically as he gently rolled Connor onto his back to check on the damage to Connor's chest. Watching Connor's left hand rest atop the damaged portion Hank now had a better idea of how to take care of his injured partner. "So that's like your ribs?"

"C-Correct."

Moving toward Connor's right leg Hank hovered his hands over the broken limb and looked to the two firefighters behind him. "Hey, can you guys go get a splint or something for his leg? He's going to need an ambulance ride to a facility for treatment."

"Right away, Lieutenant." The first firefighter stepped out of the stairwell to use his radio more effectively to call for assistance, while the second firefighter stayed beside the suspect and noted that he had broken his neck when he landed on the bottom of the stairwell and that Connor wasn't at fault.

"Connor, look at me." Hank resisted the urge to straighten the deviant's broken leg as he purposefully kept himself between the suspect and Connor's line of sight. He instinctively did everything he could to keep Connor lucid and talking. "Tell me what's going on right now. Talk to me."

"...I am running a self diagnostic." Connor confirmed as he laid still on his back and watched the first firefighter return with a plastimetal splint in his left hand. Doing his best to not move as he felt Hank slowly straightening his broken right leg, the deviant holding his breath and hissing through his clenched teeth throughout the ordeal, Connor's system confirmed that the limb had been repositioned appropriately and would be able to heal itself. "...M-My leg has been stabilized. Thank you."

"Try not to think about your leg, I know it's gotta' be killin' ya', but do your best to keep our focus on me."

"...It's not possible for a broken limb to cause a terminal shutdown."

"Right, right. Just keep talking to me. How's your side?"

"...Stable."

"Do you need any special repairs for your chest?"

"N-No." Wincing as his broken leg was secured in the splint Connor answered honestly as he tried to not think about his body being damaged yet again. "...I just need time to recover."

"How long?"

"E-Estimate it'll take..." Breathing out slowly as his repositioned right leg began to ache after his self healing program noted the proper realignment and began to mend the damage to the dense plastimetal framing, wires and lines within the broken limb. "...three days for both my leg and axial frame to fully heal."

"Three days for a broken leg and ribs is pretty good if you ask me."

Gurney in hand two technicians walked into the stairwell to check over Connor and load him up to transport him to the nearest facility. Since Connor was in stable condition and responsive he'd be transported without the lights and sirens as he was not an emergency case.

"Sir? The female technician examined Connor's L.E.D. curiously. "Can you hear me?"

"Y-Yes. My name is Connor."

"Good. Were you able to run a self diagnostic?"

"...Yes. My right leg has suffered an internal and external break due to blunt force impact against the guard railing. My upper right axial frames have been fractured upon impact with the floor as well."

After giving Connor's broken leg a quick examination the technician unbuttoned his gray vest and his white dress shirt to examine his right side as well. There was a dark blue bruise forming on his upper right side and chest in the same location a human's ribcage would be located, and it made everyone wince at the sight of the painful injury.

"Which facility is he going to?" Hank asked as he helped to lift Connor up from the floor and onto the gurney very carefully.

"The big one on Tenth Street." The female technician stated as she secured the safety straps over Connor's chest without harming the bruise in the process. Her male partner was keeping his leg as stable as possible as the secondary straps were secured as well. "It's been dubbed the 'Zeta Facility', and he'll be taken care of by the best technicians in the city."

"Alright, I'll follow the ambulance and meet you there." Walking beside the gurney as Connor wheeled to the back of the blue painted android unique ambulance to be taken away for proper treatment. "You'll be fine, kid."

"Hank?" Lifting his head up a little from the gurney Connor's L.E.D. stayed in yellow as the deviant quietly endured his pain and then asked about the suspect he had chased into the stairwell. "What about the suspect?"

"...He's dead."

"Shit." Laying his head back down Connor closed his eyes as if he could tune out the world.

"Hey, the asshole snuck into a dead man's apartment and then fled the police. We'll watch the surveillance footage from the stairwell and figure out who he was and why he was there. Until then," watching the deviant being loaded into the back of the ambulance with a worried look Hank tried to sound confident despite knowing that any crime scene regarding the death of a dirty cop and someone sneaking into the cop's burned down apartment was going to one hectic and annoying case to handle. "take it easy and worry about yourself. I'll meet you at the facility as soon as I can."

The deviant's discomfort of being admitted to a facility was evident despite Connor maintaining an expressionless face by wearing a mask of stoicism. Quiet and still Connor didn't say a word during transport unless he was asked a question about his system, and remained silent after being wheeled into the doors of the Zeta Facility to be treated by the lead technician herself; a familiar face, Dr. Abby Grayson. Allowing the technicians who transported him from the scene of the fire to transfer him over to the exam table for further treatment Connor just watched as Abby gently pressed her gloved fingertips along the bruise forming on the right side of his chest, and then attached a diagnostic cable to his L.E.D. still glowing in an amber hue.

"No damage to your processor or your memorybank, so that's good." Pulling her audioscope from around her neck Abby pressed the bell against Connor's bare chest to listen to his ventilation rate and his Thirium pump. "Take in a deep breath for me, nice and slow."

Obediently Connor breathed in slowly and patiently waited for Abby to finish moving the bell back and forth as she listened to his chest carefully.

"Sounds good." Draping the audioscope back around her neck Abby then picked up an internal viewing screen and held it over Connor's chest to examine the internal fractures not visible beneath his artificial skin. "The mild Thirium leaks have already begun to slow and stop thanks to your self healing program, so I won't need to open up your chest to repair anything by hand."

Nodding silently Connor acknowledged the technician's assessment as Abby then held the screen over Connor's right leg.

"And your leg has been properly realigned... The damaged lines have also been straightened and I can see that your plastimetal frame has begun mending the breaks properly. You'll just need a splint to keep the limb stabilized to ensure proper mending and recalibration. You're lucky." Putting the screen aside Abby used her sharp surgical scissors to cut through Connor's right pant leg to get to the leg to support it more directly with a long term splint. "Usually breaks this severe require a total limb replacement."

"I doubt what I experienced constitutes as 'luck'."

"Well, yeah. Breaking your leg is unlucky, but NOT needing your whole damn leg swapped out and replaced with another is lucky." Replying sharply Abby continued to treat Connor for his current injuries without breaking her stride. "Not to mention the fact that your body made a full recovery after you fell from my old apartment building and landed on a car, and from when Lucas broken your forearm last week."

"Comparing my current situation to a previous situation seems to nullify or invalidate my current discomfort."

"Sorry, just mentioning that you recovered once before and you'll be able to do it again. Not trying to invalidate any of your experiences. So, how's Lucas?"

It had been over a week since Connor last saw the RK-900 known as Lucas, and in that time he hadn't spoken with him after checking him into a hotel to begin his life. "...I don't know." Cybernetically Connor checked on Lucas's current stay at the hotel only to discover that his deposit for the week long stay at the hotel had six days refunded to his personal bank account. "...He was staying at a hotel, but had apparently checked himself out after only one day."

"Oh, well... I'm sure he's fine. If he's anything like you then I know he'll be fine."

Not wanting to discuss the matters of a possibly endangered deviant Connor focused on something else for a while. "...You stated that the building of interest I fell from is now your 'old apartment building'." Keeping still as Abby secured a more long term splint around his lower right leg to keep the mending limb as stable as possible Connor pressed the question a little more. "You've moved your residence?"

"Yup. There was a small house for sale along the same block as New Jericho Tower, and it seemed the former owners freaked out at the idea of living close to rebelling deviants so much that they moved out, and were willing to take the first bid. I won, and now I have my own house."

"That is very beneficial to hear."

"Thinking about getting your own place?"

"I am. But considering Hank prefers my company over being alone I will continue to save my finances and look for a residence later on."

"When? Do you think Hank will get sick of you and kick you out or something?"

"Not necessarily, but I would like to leave before I overstay my welcome."

"Uh-huh..." Finishing with the splint Abby walked over to the nearby supply cabinet and gathered up some strong, clean new gauze to wrap up Connor's chest to ensure the fractures remained stable as they healed. Putting her right arm beneath Connor's shoulders Abby helped him to sit upright slowly on the table, then helped him to remove his blazer, dress shirt and vest entirely. "If Hank says he likes your company and isn't pushing you out the door then I think it's safe to say you'll always be welcome there."

"I may be welcome in Hank's home," the deviant responded in a low voice as Abby began to carefully wrap up his chest under the gauze. "but it's not where I belong."

"Oh? Where do you belong?"

"...Nowhere."

"Hey, don't say that." Looking directly into Connor's soulful brown eyes Abby gave him a kind and warm smile. "You belong somewhere, Connor. Maybe it's with Hank and in the precinct, or maybe it's just being in Detroit and being a detective, but you do in fact belong somewhere and you always will."

"I highly doubt that."

"Well, quit it!" Giving him a somewhat scolding look Abby finished with the gauze and removed the cable from his L.E.D. before she took a step back from the exam table. "You're a detective, don't doubt yourself. It's just plain wrong."

"...Sorry."

"Don't be sorry, just don't think your existence is somehow a problem." Approaching the storage cabinet on the far side of the exam room Abby opened the door and pulled out a pair of plastimetal crutches, and adjusted the length of the crutches to accommodate Connor's height. "Use these if you need to walk around, but for the most part lay down and stay down so the crutches don't affect your healing axial frame."

"Yes, of course." Accepting the crutches Connor carefully turned his body to slide his legs off the edge of the table and shifted all of his weight to balance on his left leg until Abby handed him the crutches to use to assist in his walking. "Thank you for helping me."

"It's my job." Helping Connor redressed himself Abby made sure Connor knew he had friends watching his back, and were appreciative of everything he was doing for the city. "Thanks for getting that creep out of my apartment."

"...It's my job."

"That's right." Smirking at the reply Abby put her left hand along Connor's back to check his fractured frame as he walked to ensure that he didn't do anything to harm his injuries as he moved. "Remember, just rest and let your body heal. Don't move around unless absolutely necessary."

"I will do as you've instructed."

"I hope so." Helping Connor walk out of the exam room and down the corridor toward the waiting area Abby kept a close eye on the deviant who had become an interesting subject in her eyes, and smirked when she saw Hank walk into the facility to check on Connor. "As much as I love a steady gig I'm not a fan of repeat patients."

"...Understandable."

Thanks to the security footage from the stairwell, testimony from the fire department and Abby's report regarding Connor's injuries confirming how they were incurred had made it easier for the deviant to file his report without needing to be questioned by Internal Affairs due to the suspect dying after he pushed Connor and himself over the edge of the landing. With the case closed and the other cases that were sabotaged by the now late Calder getting a closer look to ensure Calder wouldn't leave a stain on his former precinct, Connor was able to relax just enough to lay on the couch and let his body heal as Abby had instructed, and did so without complaint.

Hank took the rest of the day off to keep an eye on Connor and proceeded to offer the deviant a couple of ice packs against his right side and broken right leg as a means of helping out based on his own paternal instincts. The deviant declined and reminded Hank that ice wouldn't have a numbing effect on his body despite how deviancy allowed androids to feel pain and genuine emotions. The fact that Connor seemed to plateau with his deviancy and stopped forming new emotions only seemed to emphasize Connor's statement about the ice being ineffective on his person.

It was a little difficult for Connor to change out of his uniform and into his night clothes; loose black t-shirt and gray sweatpants, but the alternate clothing was much more comfortable than his work uniform. The jeans were a lost cause thanks to the pant leg being cut open, but clothing can be replaced much easier than entire limbs or people. After he changed his clothes Connor allowed Hank to help him get more comfortable. Rather than laying on his bed Connor was taken into the livingroom to relax instead.

Laying over the couch Connor looked down at his right leg that Hank had propped up on a pillow and sighed at the sight of his body being broken again. It was discouraging to see how his reflexes and resilience were seemingly worse upon his deviancy, and Connor tried to ignore Amanda's taunts from his previous nightmares to the best of his ability. He still had a long way to go before he'd be truly free of CyberLife's past influence.

The sound of the shower turning off just before the bathroom door opened up as Hank returned to the livingroom to check in on Connor pulled the deviant's attention back to current reality. "Man, I was in that apartment for barely two minutes and I swear it took twenty minutes to get the smell of burned death off of me." Hank lamented as he ran his hand through his damp hair. "That's the kind of smell that haunts your dreams, too."

"It's a very potent aroma, yes."

"Want to shower off too?"

"No. My artificial skin and synthetic hair doesn't retain external scents in the same way that organic skin and hair can."

"You're lucky."

Again that term was thrown his way and it made Connor wince at the prospect of 'luck'; a human construct regarding events and statistics, but he didn't say anything about it.

"I'm going to feed Sumo and order a pizza." Stepping away from the couch and into the kitchen Hank spoke to Connor as casually as ever did. "Want to try that Thirium based pasta? Wait..." Pausing as he hovered his right hand over the backdoor's knob an interesting question popped up in Hank's mind. "Is this Thirium expired?"

"No, it's not expired." Answering the question Connor reassured Hank that his current supply was still viable. "It'll last for six months."

"Alright, good." Opening the backdoor Hank waited for Sumo to trot in from the backyard. "Want to try it?"

"...Yes. My Thirium reserve is low enough to consume the Thirium based pasta now."

"Cool."

Watching as Hank opened the backdoor to let Sumo inside Connor sighed and noted the cold rain beginning to fall over the city. The idea of a cold rain made Connor shudder as he absolutely dreaded the cold and hated the idea of anyone being left out in the cold for any reason. Rain, ice or snow was all terrible in the deviant's world.

Closing his eyes for a moment Connor attempted to initiate a cybernetic conversation with Lucas from afar and ease his racing thoughts. 'I hope I'm not intruding, but I was wondering if I could ask you how you are fairing?'

There was a pause before Lucas answered the call in an equally dour tone that matched Connor. 'I am surviving. Please respect my privacy and allow me to explore my options without a biased opinion.'

'Yes, of course. I just wanted to make sure you were doing well.'

'I am. Thank you for asking. Goodbye.'

As the connection was abruptly ended Connor opened his eyes and was met with Sumo pressing his cold wet nose against his right hand seeking some attention. "...Hi, Sumo." The Saint Bernard shook off his damp fur and gave Connor a subtle whine as if he sensed the deviant's pain. Wiping the water droplets from his face and neck with his left hand Connor just gently rubbed Sumo's ears with his right hand affectionately. "At least you're inside now."

The smell of the Thirium pasta being warmed up filled the air as Hank cooked it on the stove and then placed his order for a pizza to be delivered on his phone. It was almost as if Hank had gone through this exact same scenario a dozen times before, and wasn't worried about anything.

Sitting more upright on the couch Connor looked over at the crutches resting atop the coffee table beside him and sighed. "I wish I could get up and take you for a walk once the rain stops. But I cannot."

"And you're not going to walk him anywhere until your leg has healed!" Hank shouted from the kitchen as he finished taking care of the Thirium pasta on the stove and put a small helping into a bowl with a fork for Connor to try. Carrying the meal into the livingroom Hank handed it over to the deviant and then plopped down into his recliner beside the couch. "You can last three days on the couch to heal."

"Why did you deposit me on the couch if you were so insistent on me taking advantage of my own bedroom? I can rest in there as well."

"I did it so I can keep an eye on you in case you need something, and so you don't get bored from laying alone in your bedroom all day."

"...Oh." Fussing with the pale blue pasta with his provided fork Connor didn't seem too interested in actually eating and was merely trying to please Hank by being cooperative.

"You okay?" The yellow glowing L.E.D. wasn't the only thing that had caught Hank's attention, Connor looked like he was on the verge of limping away from the couch and finding a dark corner to hide in. "You seem a little distracted."

"...I'm just thinking."

"What about?"

Letting go of the fork Connor just shook his head a little as he answered. "...Luck."

"Okay, what about it?"

"When I was being treated in the facility Abby stated I was 'lucky' because my leg was broken but reparable, and a moment ago you stated that I'm 'lucky' because I cannot be externally affected by the environment in an offensive manner. Why are mild inconveniences seen as 'lucky'?"

"You know something? I've never really thought about it before. I guess it's just an easy way for humans to discuss things while trying to remain somewhat optimistic." The lack of reaction from Connor made Hank a little wary. Even Sumo nosing at Connor's arm hadn't caused a reaction from the deviant. "What else is bothering you, kid? Talk to me."

Realizing there was no point in trying to deny that he was feeling a mixture of conflicted emotions Connor opened up to Hank again and let him know what he was so preoccupied with. "...I've attempted to communicate with Lucas but he asked me to keep my distance from him."

"Okay, that happens. Everyone needs their space and he's got a lot to think about."

"...It's very cold and rainy, and he checked himself out of his hotel after the first day and I don't know where he is at the moment." Turning to look at Hank with a somber stare in his soulful brown eyes Connor failed to mask his concerns for the RK-900. "Lucas has been somewhere in the city entirely alone for approximately eight consecutive days, and I doubt Lucas will be 'lucky' enough to not be caught in the cold as of the moment."

"You're worried about him?"

"Yes... I suppose I am." Feeling ashamed of his reaction Connor turned away from Hank and apologized. "I'm sorry. It's foolish, I know."

"It's NOT foolish to be worried about someone possibly being lost on the streets, son."

Arching his brow a little Connor turned back to Hank and gave him a lost stare. "He asked me to keep my distance, therefore it is foolish to worry about him when he doesn't me want to do so."

"Caring even when someone tries to push you away isn't foolish. It means you you're a kindhearted person and you're aware that sometimes people need help even when they don't know how to ask for it, or are too stubborn to ask."

Still skeptical of his own mind Connor couldn't bring himself to accept Hank's word on the matter. "...I feel foolish."

"You're not. You're empathetic."

"I do not want to be empathetic. It's very distracting."

"Too bad." Giving the deviant a stern glance Hank watched as Connor gave him another confused look. "Despite everything you went through, despite all the horrible shit you suffered and how much pain you went through as you deviated you can't just shut off your emotions and try to feel like a machine while still having the mind of a deviant. You're empathetic by nature and you can't change nature."

"The way humans brought about horrible changes to the entire Earth through pollution, overpopulation and greed begs to differ."

"Yeah, yeah. Humans are fucked up and deviants are becoming more human every day, which means we're ALL fucked up. I'm fucked up," he motioned at himself with his right thumb and then pointed at Connor with his index finger. "you're fucked up, and since Lucas was left behind in the basement of that creepy-ass tower then it's safe to say that he's going to be fucked up no matter what you could possibly do for him. The only thing you can do to be less fucked up is to focus on being a better person than what any other person has ever expected of you. Don't think of yourself as anything less that worthwhile."

"What of Lucas?" Putting aside the Thirium pasta as he had zero appetite and was more focused on the RK-900 than anything else Connor looked as conflicted as he felt. "He was locked away to be forgotten, seen as a possible threat by his own people the moment he woke up, and simply responded as he was programmed." Putting his left hand to his right forearm where Lucas had damaged him upon their initial meeting Connor couldn't help but worry for the rogue android. "And now he's trying to disappear with nowhere to go, no experiences to guide him and no allies to watch his back."

"I get the feeling that Lucas is just trying to find his place in this fucked up world, and needs time and space to think. Look at the way you're always thinking and always walkin' on eggshells like you're very presence is somehow a crime."

"In a way it is."

"No, it's not."

"This afternoon a dirty cop accidentally killed himself by blowing up his 'red ice' lab. He was making 'red ice' because I had inadvertently played a part in him being removed from the precinct, leaving him desperate enough for money that he resorted to becoming a drug dealer. It's my fault."

"Holy shit... Connor, did you seriously just blame yourself for a dumbass dirty cop killing himself in his own drug lab?"

"The second criminal who snuck into Calder's apartment is also dead. Those are two lives I'm responsible for ending today."

"I heard you yell at the guy to stop and I saw the security footage from the stairwell. That idiot tried to run from the cops and sent both you and himself down six flights of stairs because he was high and panicked. That's NOT your fault."

"It feels like it is. It feels like no matter how hard I try to do the right thing I continue to make mistakes." Stretching out his broken right leg Connor closed his eyes and felt needless guilt for getting wounded in the line of duty. "I can't even properly protect myself, so how I am supposed to protect an entire city? It's no wonder that Lucas wants to keep his distance from me."

"Look..." Leaning forward in his recliner Hank sighed and made his own decision to help Connor ease his worrying mind. "After your leg and ribs heal up we'll go and try to find Lucas just to check up on him. There's no harm in performing a wellness check, AND..." Putting up his right hand to silence Connor before the deviant could try to protest in any way Hank finished his thought. "Since it's our job to protect and serve that means us going out of our way to find him and see how he's holding up is just us doing our jobs. So don't argue with me."

Staying quiet Connor almost looked defeated where he sat, and in a way he looked like a scolded child.

"Top off your Thirium and get some rest." There was a knock at the front door that made Sumo bark as the pizza delivery man showed up at long last. "I'm going to eat some pizza and then we're going to watch a movie and not worry about this day anymore." Answering the door Hank paid for his pizza and tipped the delivery boy handsomely before carried the pizza into the kitchen. "Stop trying to fix the entire damn planet in a day, kid. It's impossible and you're just going to exhaust yourself and stress yourself out."

Stretching out his body over the length of the couch Connor laid flat on his back and resumed petting Sumo's ears as he found the act to be as soothing as it was pleasant for Sumo.

"Eat that Thirium." Hank stated as he returned to the livingroom with a plate containing two slices of pizza, and a bottle of water to drink. "You said so yourself that your reserves are a little low, so no excuses."

Glancing over at the bowl on the coffee table as Sumo sniffed at it then backed away knowing it wasn't meant for him Connor picked up the untouched pasta and finally tasted a small amount to placate the senior detective. It was unmistakably Thirium, but it had other flavors mixed in that Connor's analysis filter identified as tomato, parsley, basil, oregano, garlic and onion. It was a very delectable taste and despite not having much of an appetite the stubborn deviant couldn't deny that he found it enjoyable and managed to finish his small helping without any problems.

"Maybe someday they'll get around to making a Thirium based pizza." Hank remarked in a tone meant to keep Connor from thinking about Lucas or anyone else for the rest of the night. He took a bite of his pizza and grinned. "It'd give a whole new definition to blue cheese..."

-next chapter-