The following morning was still as rainy and cold as it had been the night before. Courtesy of the previously harsh winter that accompanied the world changing Revolution very few people were going to complain about the rainy spring after enduring months of snow, ice and wind on a near daily basis. Humans and deviants alike were layered up under their spring jackets, hats and umbrellas as they traversed the rain slicked streets to go about their business as casually as possible. No one was immune to rain or the chill in the air despite their efforts to bundle up against the uncomfortable weather or the impending cold season that always accompanied early springtime in Michigan.

Trudging through the rain puddles that marred the uneven surface of the alleyway running behind an abandoned textile plant in the industrial district of the city both Hank and Connor endured the cold rain as they investigated the body of a deviant who had been found earlier that morning. Suspecting foul play the two detectives had no choice but to go out into the field to begin their investigation rather than wait for the body to be taken into the precinct's dispensary for an apportionment.

Kneeling down on the rain slicked pavement Connor scanned over the deviant's body with an unreadable expression on his face. With his soulful brown eyes searching over the victim for any and all sign of the cause of shutdown Connor looked entirely dedicated, focused and determined to succeed beyond that of a usual investigation.

Crossing his arms over his chest Hank sighed and accepted an umbrella from one of the officers overseeing the scene of the crime and opened up the transparent plastic shield over his head. "What've we got, Connor?" Taking a step forward Hank moved the umbrella forward slightly to try to keep Connor out of the rain as well as he spoke. The chill in the air was visible as thin white clouds accompanied his every spoken word. "Murder or accident?"

Pressing his left fingertips to the victim's right temple where the victim's L.E.D. had once been Connor retracted his artificial skin from his fingers and connected to the shutdown deviant's processors to gain his needed information. "...The victim is a male GJ-500. He was originally designed for personal security purposes and apparently continued to function as such after the Revolution."

The victim's body wasn't externally damaged or showed any sign of an assault which made the case all the more perplexing. "What can you tell me about him?"

"His name is Leon and had been patrolling the property after the abandoned plant had been purchased and slated for renovation." Pulling his hand back Connor stood upright and faced Hank while remaining just out of the protective umbrella's range as his skin regenerated over his fingers. "His cause of shutdown wasn't murder or an accident."

"Oh? Then what happened to him?"

"Leon's thermal regulator had failed to-" Pausing mid sentence as a strange tickling sensation in his throat distracted himself Connor instinctively cleared his throat of the uncomfortable feeling before continuing on. "The thermal regulator failed to recalibrate properly during the night's cold rain." Absentmindedly Connor began rubbing his right fingertips over the surface of his throat as if he could somehow feel the tickling that had originated inside the throat rather than the outside. "Leon shutdown due to hypothermia, but he can still be revived."

"You're shitting me! He can-" Hank peered over Connor's shoulder to look at Leon laying on his back looking more like a corpse than anything else. "How?"

"Like in humans extreme cold can preserve organic tissue. In androids the cold cause a form of stasis that preserves functions while also rendering the android unconscious." Looking back at Leon on the ground Connor stepped aside and motioned for the waiting officers to roll over a gurney to transport Leon to a facility. "It's possible for androids who fall prey to hypothermia to be reactivated as long as warming measures are taken within the allotted time frame."

"...Which is?"

"An additional nine hours, fourteen minutes and thirty-nine seconds."

"Oh, so no rush." Shrugging his shoulders a little Hank was relieved in knowing their victim wasn't a victim at all. "Leon will be fine in a few hours."

"Correct."

"Well, that's the first time I've worked a possible homicide only to discover that the victim is in fact still alive." Standing back Hank moved the umbrella yet again to try to shield Connor from the rain as the deviant stood beside him, and watched with an impressed gaze as the two officers gently picked Leon up from the ground and placed him down on the gurney for transport. "Good case for once."

Connor nodded and addressed the officers tending to Leon's care. "Take him to the nearest facility and inform them that he is currently suffering from extreme hypothermia. They'll be able to help him."

"Right away, Sergeant."

"We should-" Struggling around his words as the odd sensation returned to his throat Connor's blue L.E.D. flashed to yellow as he ran a diagnostic on his air intake line before continuing on. Dropping his hand from his throat Connor spoke normally and finished his initial statement. "We should return to the precinct and confirm that there has been no foul play regarding the reported deviant."

"Yeah, sure..."

Noticing how Connor seemed to be uncomfortable and trying to suffer in silence Hank visually assessed Connor's current condition. While the deviant naturally had a fair complexion making him look somewhat pale at all times it appeared as though faint dark blue bags were forming under Connor's eyes, and his cheeks seemed to be taking a pale blue flush. If Hank didn't know any better he could've sworn that Connor was developing a cold of some kind.

Returning to the car parked at the end of the alleyway Hank watched as Connor trailed behind him a few paces and kept his eyes on the ground as he walked. The deviant not making much eye contact wasn't unusual since he had trust issues, but the way Connor was walking it was more like he needed to keep track of the ground as he walked to prevent himself from tripping or losing his balance.

Without a word Hank turned over the Oldsmobile's engine and cranked up the heater before repositioning the vents to point directly at Connor as the deviant sat down in the front passenger seat beside him. Closing the umbrella Hank tossed it into the backseat of the car to be returned to the precinct later on. Trying to remain as discreet as possible Hank shifted the car into drive and pressed the back of his right hand to the left side of Connor's neck.

"You're cold again." Placing his right hand down on the steering wheel alongside the left Hank pulled out of the alleyway and onto the street to return to the precinct now that their case had been closed. "You're not going to have the same problem Leon has, are ya'?"

"...No." Rubbing his left palm over the side of the neck where Hank's hand had been Connor noted the strange contrast in their body temperatures as Hank was warmer than Connor in that moment. "My thermal regulator has been properly recalibrated since my previous error."

"Good to know." From the corner of his eye Hank watched as the blue flush on Connor's cheeks seemed to darken a little and the dark bags under his eyes became heavier. The deviant fidgeted in his seat as his left hand once more rubbed over his throat while his L.E.D. cycled in yellow running self diagnostics over and over again. "Is your throat bothering you?"

There was no point in ignoring the question or trying to dismiss the worry. It was clear he was suffering from something unusual. "...There is a mild irritation I cannot describe in my air intake line."

"Did ya' lick something you shouldn't have touched?"

"No, Hank." Somewhat annoyed by the logical question Connor replied honestly. "I didn't ingest anything that would result in my current mild discomfort."

"Can you describe it?"

"I... I can try." Focusing on the feeling as Hank pulled up to a stop sign before resuming the drive Connor lowered his hand from his throat and thought back to his previous physical experiences. Staring down at his right hand Connor rubbed his thumb over his index fingertip curiously as he spoke. "...It's somewhat reminiscent to the uncomfortable tingling sensation I felt just prior to my artificial skin malfunctioning."

"So it's kinda' itchy?"

"I suppose that is an acceptable means of describing my current experience."

"Ever have anything like this happen before?"

"No. This is the first time I've ever felt such a sensation."

"I know you said androids don't get sick in the same way humans do, but to me it sounds like you have a sore throat."

"Sore throat?" Cybernetically downloading information on the term Connor shook his head a little as his brow furrowed with mild confusion. "Pharyngitis isn't possible in androids."

"Well, you're not supposed to feel emotions, pain or think for yourselves, either. Yet, here you are..."

Unable to find a cause for his apparent sore throat Connor fell silent and pulled his coin from his right vest pocket to help distract his thoughts, channel his anxious energy and improve his hand-eye coordination and reflexes in the event his discomfort escalated into something more serious beyond a very mild distraction.

Whatever Connor was now experiencing was entirely new to the young and still developing deviant.

Unable to go out onto the street to play his saxophone and earn his only source of income due to the constant rain Lucas remained in the apartment and proceeded to keep his mind busy by grooming Lucky's fur with a brush, trimming her nails and ensuring her new flea drops weren't going to make her sick. The kitten absolutely loved all the pampering she was receiving from the kind deviant and purred loudly as he gently removed her excess winter fur from her already long coat with the gentle motions of the brush running down her sides and back.

Finding himself curiously happy to have the little kitten to keep him company Lucas began to wonder how one stray kitten found her way to an apartment parking lot by itself, only to be rescued by Gavin and given shelter. After downloading information on felines in general Lucas found it especially curious that she ended up alone in the parking lot considering it was more common for cats to have large litters rather than just a single kitten at a time.

"I can understand why Gavin named you 'Lucky'. It's extremely fortunate that you were found before you froze or starved to death."

Removing the excess fur from the brush bristles Lucas ran his left hand down Lucky's side and ensured there wasn't any further loose fur that needed to be groomed away.

"I wonder if you had siblings or if you were a singleton at birth?"

The discussion Lucas had with Gavin the previous night regarding the abrasive detective's unwillingness to speak to his own brother made Lucas truly think of the concept of siblings in general. Knowing that Gavin had tragically lost his kid sister during their childhood and never knew about his own twin brother until their eighteenth birthday gave the deviant a lot to think about in regard to his own potential relationship with Connor.

"...It's possible that I could have a twin brother just as Gavin has. I have no reason to not speak with Connor." Rubbing his right index finger along Lucky's left ear Lucas was rewarded with louder purring from the soft and sweetly mannered kitten. "And yet I don't have reason to speak with him, either."

The prospect of having a brother, a family, was a truly curious thought that Lucas couldn't shake from his mind.

"However..." Glancing over at his saxophone case propped up against the wall beside the television as if looking for an excuse to reach out to Connor. "I had used his money to purchase my saxophone, perhaps it's time I paid him back. I'm sure he'd appreciate it."

Lucky mewed as she rolled around in a silly manner on the floor in front of Lucas and lazily pawed at one of her toy mice nearby.

"I know he often works the same shifts alongside Gavin, so I will wait until Gavin returns to the apartment before I locate Connor to speak with him and pay him back for his generosity."

As the toy mouse was batted against his knee Lucas instinctively picked it up and gave it a small toss much to the kitten's delight. Watching Lucky spring to her paws and chasing down the toy made Lucas's head tilt a little to the side. Lucky picked up the toy and brought it back to Lucas and put it down beside his knee as if she had just fetched the toy instead of chased after it.

"...You want me throw it again?"

Lucky hunkered down and swished her tail back and forth as her eyes honed in on the toy in Lucas's grip.

"Alright."

Giving the toy another toss Lucas watched as Lucky again bounded after the mouse and brought it back to Lucas to throw again.

"You're a very strange kitten, Lucky. But considering I am a deviant and Gavin is the most socially distant extrovert I've ever met I believe it's safe to say you belong here."

Filing the report on the deviant found in the alleyway was surprisingly easy as it didn't involve any suspects, evidence or any crime whatsoever. The bullpen was unusually quiet as the lazy afternoon came without much disturbance much to the officers' and detectives' reliefs. While Hank poured himself a cup of coffee in the breakroom he watched Connor rub his right fingers over his throat with great discomfort despite not making a single complaint about his current pain. Taking a small sip of the hot beverage Hank contemplated offering Connor a mug of warm tea to ease his sore throat, but remembering that the deviant couldn't ingest anything beyond Thirium or Thirium-based sustenance.

As Hank enjoyed his over sweetened coffee in peace and discreetly took a doughnut from the large community box on the counter behind him and watched as the deviant tried to hold still in his chair as his irritated throat continued to bother him. If Connor rubbing his hand over his throat didn't give away his pain then the yellow L.E.D. blinking in his right temple sure did.

"Hey, Lieutenant." Tina greeted the senior detective as she shrugged off her rain soaked jacket grabbed a mug to make herself some warm tea. "How'd your investigation near the factory go?"

"First time I've been to a murder scene where the murder victim wasn't actually dead, just cold and in stasis mode."

"Seriously? Your vic' wasn't really a vic'?"

"Nope."

"Damn. You two went out into that cold rain over something that a technician could've handled instead."

"Yup." Motioning with his mug toward Connor's back Hank mentioned the deviant's sore throat. "Poor kid is doing too well."

"Yeah, I heard deviants hate the cold and struggle to function in it." Pouring hot water from the always heated electric kettle into her mug Tiny placed a baggy of green tea into the water and let it steep for a few minutes before drinking it. "Do androids get colds?"

"That's the question of the day. I want to say 'yes' since he's got some kind of sore throat going on." Looking at the tea bag floating in the mug of hot water beside Tina's hand Hank gave it a coveted glance. "It's too bad he can't drink some tea like us humans can."

"Tea, no. But there are a few other things that could work."

The fact that Tina seemed to know something he didn't made Hank give the younger officer a skeptical glance. "Like what?"

"You'll see." Finishing with her tea Tina took a smug sip and returned to her desk to set about her own report after finishing patrol. "Give me a minute and I'll help him out."

"Sure, whatever." Carrying his coffee into the bullpen Hank sat down at his own desk behind the terminal and glanced at Connor around the screen with a curious eye. The deviant was undoubtedly sporting a blue blush over his face and dark bags under his eyes, but what was more interesting was that Connor's nose was starting to turn blue as well. "Connor? Are you okay?"

"I'b fine." Realizing his words were congested and sounded eerily like Tina's own words after she tried to work with a nasty cold Connor ran another self diagnostic and pressed his right index finger thumb to his nose curiously. He'd never been congested before. "...I think I'b fine."

"Shit, you sound and look terrible. What's going on?"

Cybernetically Connor turned off his terminal screen so he could look at his face against the shiny black surface curiously. Seeing his discolored complexion and heavy eyes made the deviant's posture stiffen noticeably with surprise. "...I don' unders'and what's wrong wit' 'be."

"You're sick. That's what's wrong."

"I don'..." Too congested to argue and confused by his own body seemingly betraying himself Connor slumped in his seat and pressed his palms over his face with understandable frustration. "I don' know whad's ha'bbening 'do 'be."

"Me neither."

From beside his desk Connor sensed someone approaching but didn't lower his hands to look at them. "...Yes?"

Tina gave Connor a sympathetic glance as she placed a white paper cup down on the deviant's desk and motioned to the purple tinted popsicle sitting stick upward from the cup she had placed inside of it. "I can see you're not feeling too well, so I thought this could help you out a little."

Lowering his hands just enough to uncover his eyes Connor stared at the cup with an unspoken curiosity in his glassy brown eyes. "...Whad' is id'?"

"That is a Thirium-based popsicle that I pulled out of the breakroom freezer. According to Joel it's supposed to taste like grape."

Shaking his head a little Connor closed his eyes and breathed through his fingers despite his air intake line and ventilation biocomponents steadily building with a foreign type of congestion.

"It's a great way to help soothe a sore throat and keep your system from overheating at the same time." Flashing Connor a warm grin that went unseen by the ill deviant Tina tried to give him some form of reassurance. "I've been brushing up on android first aid, so now I can help a little bit if it's needed."

Eyeing the cup suspiciously Connor was hesitant to try the treat as he didn't want to admit he was actually sick. Leaning back in his chair Connor began slumping down even further in his seat and resisted the urge to curl around himself in an attempt to disappear from sight.

Hank gave Tina a silent motion to return to her desk while he tended to Connor. "Thanks, Tina. He'll be fine." Waiting for the cooperative and sympathetic officer to politely give the two detectives space Hank lowered his voice and rose from his desk to speak to Connor more directly. "Kid, I can tell you don't feel well at all. You should let Joel check our your system and figure this shit out."

"N-No... I don' wand' 'do have people s'daring ad' 'be or 'bossiping if they see 'be 'boing up 'do see 'Doel."

The severity of the congestion made Hank internally flinch. "Well, you're in no condition to work. I'm taking you to see Abby, then."

Shaking his head a little Connor tried to refuse the decision but his strength was failing him quickly. "...Please, I wish 'do fi'dish 'by shift."

"Remember when Tina was sick with a cold last December?" Motioning to the helpful officer with his right thumb pointed over his shoulder Hank gave his impressively stubborn partner a terse stare that was matched only by his voice. "Remember how you told her to go home before she got worse but she didn't listen until after she threw-up?"

"...I 'demember."

"Don't be a hypocrite about this stuff. Let me help you."

Too stubborn to agree but feeling too lousy to argue Connor didn't resist when Hank wrapped his left hand around his right bicep and gently pulled the him up from his seat to stand upright. Dropping his hands from his face Connor focused on the floor beneath his feet as Hank escorted him over to the front doors to head out to the Zeta Facility just a few blocks away.

From her own desk Tina got to her feet quickly and grabbed onto the cup she had put on Connor's desk, grabbed Connor's leather jacket that had been draped over the back of his chair and followed after the two detectives quietly as they walked outside.

Gavin noticed his partner scrambling to her feet and gave Tina an odd glance. "What's up?"

"Connor's sick and the Lieutenant's taking him to see a technician. I'm just going to make sure he gets to the car without any problems."

Giving the entire concept of androids being sick an incredulous scoff Gavin shook his head and resumed working on his report. "Since when does plastic get taken down by germs? Sounds like a damn conspiracy to me." As his hands over his keyboard a worrisome thought popped into his head. "...Is it contagious?"

Outside the precinct Hank managed to walk Connor under the small ledges outlining the building's windows to keep him out of the rain as much as possible as they slowly walked over to the neighboring parking garage. Tina was following behind the two detectives and ready to spring into action if they needed any additional help.

"Lean on me if you have to." Hank stated as he fished his car keys from his jean pocket. Keeping his grip secure around Connor's bicep to ensure he didn't stumble backward or pass out the senior detective realized that there was now a steady heat radiating from Connor's person as opposed to a steady chill. "I think you're overheating."

Closing his eyes as a dizzy spell suddenly hit him Connor didn't reply and allowed Hank to blindly guide him into the garage and over to the parked car so they could leave the precinct.

"I have no idea if that popsicle thing will actually help ya'," speaking only as a distraction for Connor's overworked mind Hank opened up the passenger side door of the car and made sure Connor sat down in the seat without toppling over in the process, or fell back out of the car and onto the concrete of the parking garage floor. "but it couldn't hurt to try it."

Staying silent and miserable Connor struggled to run a proper self diagnostic that could give him an answer to his current physical distress. Each diagnostic came back with errors regarding his ventilation biocomponents, air intake line, core temperature and gyroscope, but it couldn't provide him with a proper solution to correct his current malfunction.

Tina handed Hank the leather jacket and the cup before she backed away from the car slowly. "I'll go tell Captain Fowler that Connor's down and out for a while. You just take care of him."

"Thanks again, Tina."

Pulling open the driver's side door Hank put the jacket in the backseat and the cup in the cup holder beside him. "I'll drive nice and slow, okay?"

Fastening his seatbelt with a shaking right hand Connor kept his eyes closed but nodded to acknowledge the comment.

"It's hard but try to relax. I don't want you to wear yourself out for no damn reason."

True to his word Hank drove slowly out of the parking garage and to the correct facility just a few blocks away. The rainy day kept a lot of people inside that afternoon which meant traffic was actually light for once. A steady rhythm of the rain drops pounding all over the car and the windshield wipers moving back and forth filled the silence between the two detectives as Connor sat in misery while Hank chauffeured him to the facility to finally figure out what was wrong with his system.

"Come on, kid."

The car reached its destination and Hank located a space close to the facility to make it easier on Connor to endure as they walked through the rain.

Opening up his door first Hank internally swore at the cold rain as he slammed the door shut then moved to the other side of the car to help Connor exit the vehicle. Pulling Connor's right arm around his shoulders Hank unfastened the seatbelt and supported most of Connor's weight as he escorted the deviant across the rainy parking lot toward the facility's front entrance.

"Almost there." Leading Connor out of the car and toward the facility Hank slowed his pace for the ill deviant's sake, then guided him over to the nearest chair in the waiting room to sit down the moment they were inside the building. Spotting Barry behind the receptionist desk Hank approached the always smiling deviant to ask for his help. "Hey, Barry. Is Abby busy?"

"Not at the moment." The helpful deviant responded cheerily as Abby herself exited the treatment area through the double sliding doors with a tablet in her right hand. "She was just taking inventory and writing a memo about getting better tools sooner rather than later." Noticing that Connor was sitting on in a chair and looking miserable Barry mentioned the incapacitated deviant and brought him to Abby's attention the moment he saw the blue discoloration marring Connor's complexion. "This is new... What happened to him, Abby?"

Looking up from her tablet screen Abby was pulled from her deep thoughts and glanced about the waiting area curiously. Honing in on the lone patient that was currently holding Barry's attention Abby put the tablet aside on the receptionist desk and approached Connor calmly. Putting her right hand to Connor's left shoulder Abby spoke to him a whisper as she eyed his curiously blue complexion. "Connor? What's happening right now?"

Answering on Connor's behalf Hank took a step back from the receptionist desk and gave Abby plenty of room to work as he observed from afar. "It started with a scratchy throat while we were at a crime scene," he stated honestly as he watched the kind technician studying Connor's face closely. "then he started to get flushed, has what sounds like congestion, and it feels like he's starting to overheat."

Lightly Abby pressed her right palm over Connor's forehead and noted the yellow L.E.D. blinking sluggishly in the deviant's right temple. "Yeah, he's definitely overheating." Moving her hands toward Connor's face with the same ginger touch Abby pressed her fingertips along his blue cheeks and nose curiously as she had rarely seen such extreme discoloration. "The flush could be the result of his increased core temperature or possibly increased Thirium pressure. I need to do some tests to say for certain."

"Do what you gotta' do. I'll help out as much as I can."

Nodding at Hank behind herself Abby moved her hand to Connor's left arm to help him stand up while Hank took hold of the right arm. "Help me get him into an exam room and we'll figure this mess out."

Essentially a ragdoll being dragged down a hallway Connor had no choice but to let Hank and Abby carry him into an exam room through the sliding double doors, and then place him over the length of an exam table on his back to lay down.

Feeling hot, weak, uncomfortable and all around miserable Connor looked up at Abby with his glassy brown eyes as she hovered over the table to begin the routine examination. "...Whad's wrong wid' m'be? 'By self diag'dostic isn' 'biving 'be any answers."

"I'm about to find out." Pulling her audioscope from her white lab coat's pocket that she was wearing over her teal scrubs Abby put the earbuds into place, then pressed the metal bell over Connor's chest to listen to his Thirium pump's beat and his ventilation rate through the fabric of his shirt. "Breathe normally for me." Holding the bell over Connor's heart Abby listened carefully then moved the bell over the upper and lower portions of his chest from side to side to listen to his artificial lungs. "Now take a deep breath and let it out slowly."

Obediently Connor cooperated with the unwanted examination and did as he was instructed.

"I can hear some faltering in both of your ventilation biocomponents." Removing the earbuds Abby held the device in her right hand as she gave Connor a curious stare. "It sounds like your ventilation filters connected to the couplings branching out from the air intake line are clogged."

"...Can you 'bix id'?"

"Without a cause for the clog I'd just be giving you a temporary fix instead of a permanent repair. Aside from some stilted ventilation flow your heart is beating strong and normal, which is a very good sign, so I'm not worried." Putting the audioscope aside Abby put her right hand to Connor's left shoulder and coaxed the deviant into sitting upright on the table for a moment. "I need to get to your arm. Remove your jacket and roll up your sleeve, please."

Clumsily Connor managed to shrug off the gray blazer from his shoulders and awkwardly pull his arms out of the sleeves in the process. Suddenly dizzy Connor swayed a little where he sat and nearly passed out as his head began to swim and his vision became dotted with block spots.

"I gotcha', kid." Hank's voice was kind and patient as he put his own hand on Connor's right shoulder to help him lay flat back down. The way Hank spoke gave Connor a flashback to how compassionate and empathetic Hank had spoken to him the night of the Revolution before he snuck in the precinct's evidence room to find his trail to locate Jericho. "Lay still and be patient for a while longer."

"...I am still. It's the room that's spinning." Mumbling as he closed his eyes and pressed his right hand over his face Connor didn't react to Abby rolling up the left sleeve of his white dress shirt to get to his bicep.

"Syncope?" Needlessly asking about the odd symptom Abby wrapped the Thirium pressure cuff around Connor's now exposed bicep before undoing the buttons on his gray vest so she could press her palm down over his lower abdomen to steadily apply pressure to the gyroscope. It didn't take long for Abby to detect a steady heat radiating from the biocomponent or notice Connor wincing in pain under her touch. "Sorry about that, but I believe it's safe to confirm your gyroscope is being affected as well. How's your stomach?"

"Id'..." Struggling to describe his sensations and symptoms Connor remained as analytical as possible. "Id' 'beels like 'by emer'bency expulsion pro'dram is 'boing 'do acti'date."

"We have congestion, overheating, dizziness and now nausea on the list of symptoms." Putting her hands to her hips Abby began to mentally try to diagnose Connor's current affliction to the best of her ability. "Anything else?"

Connor nodded a little as he reflexively swallowed and felt the lingering discomfort in his throat. "...Yes. 'By throat."

"Alright, open your mouth." Pulling a small penlight from her second lab coat pocket Abby clicked the light on and shined it inside Connor's mouth to check his throat for damage or other problems. The back of the deviant's throat was dark blue and looked a little swollen. "Okay... It looks like the congestion from your ventilation filters is building up in your throat around your vocal processor. That's why your voice sounds as congested as you feel."

Closing his mouth after Abby removed the light Connor closed his eyes and wrapped both of his arms around his stomach as he manually deactivated the emergency expulsion program to keep himself from throwing-up on the floor.

"Almost done, Connor." Checking the reading on the Thirium pressure cuff Abby noted the lower numbers with a grimace. "Thirium pressure is a little low but not dangerously so, however your Thirium volume is eighty-seven percent due to your system struggling to compensate for your affected biocomponents and sending your self diagnostic into overdrive."

Hank patted Connor's right shoulder twice as he gave Abby a curious glance. "Do you know what this is?"

"I have an idea. I just need to confirm his core temperature and hook him up to a diagnostic cable before I say or do anything definitive."

"What can I-" A phone call intruded on the conversation and Hank sighed with a heavy breath. "Fuckin' hell..." Pulling his phone from his coat pocket Hank recognized Captain Fowler's number and rolled his eyes at the display. "Shit. I gotta' take this. Fowler probably thinks I'm ditchin' work or some other schoolyard shit."

"Well then..." Abby put her left palm to Connor's right cheek in a comforting manner as the ill deviant waited for a proper diagnostic. Feeling his overheated soft skin beneath her palm gave the technician the drive to help her friend through his current malfunction as smoothly as possible. "While Hank's out there dealing with his problems we'll stay in here and handle this one."

Turning on the nearby diagnostic modem Abby took the connected black cable and attached the other end to Connor's yellow glowing L.E.D. to get a good look at his current processor function. Between Connor's current vital signs and his symptoms Abby already had an idea of what type of malfunction he was experiencing, but she just wanted to be one-hundred percent sure before she made any definitive diagnosis.

"Connor, are you familiar with what's called 'Groupware Blight v1.0'?"

"I..." That particular error was unknown to him. "I am unfa'biliar wit' 'dhat 'derm."

"Not surprised, it's something that's only been decently discovered since deviancy has been accepted as a real phenomenon, and studied." The severity of Connor's congestion was a little worrisome yet Abby kept her cool without fail. "This particular glitch is the result of a software update that's meant to improve thermal regulator calibration getting partially corrupted during download. It results in-"

The exam room door slid open as Barry appeared and gave Abby a quick update with a smile on his face. "I'm sorry to interrupt Abby, but the interns who're assigned to learn about android anatomy are here for their lesson."

"Oh, shit... I completely forgot! Uh..." Pressing her right palm to her own forehead in frustration Abby closed her eyes and let out a weary sigh. "Connor, I hate to ask this but do you mind?"

"...Min'?" A small cough escaped his lips as his congestion steadily worsened as he laid flat over the exam table. "Min' whad'?"

"The interns are here for a rundown on android anatomy but my volunteer isn't in town at the moment, I got the dates mixed up. Normally I would never ask this of a patient but since you're a prototype and need special treatment from time to time this could prove to be an invaluable education for them."

Absolutely loathing the idea of being examined by strange eyes and hands Connor wanted to refuse, but the prospect of more technicians learning about prototype designs was truly a benefit he couldn't deny. "...Do 'dot led' them 'douch me."

"Done. All eyes and no hands." Giving Barry a single nod Abby proceeded to loosen the knot on Connor's black tie to remove the garment from around his neck, then unbuttoned his white dress shirt to reveal his chest and abdomen. "It'll just be a basic rundown, nothing complicated. If you feel uncomfortable in any way just tell me and I'll end the lesson."

Shortly after Barry exited the exam room the door slid open again as six young, bright-eyed interns entered the room with paper notebooks and pencils in hand as they prepared for their lesson. The interns were barely out of high school and young enough to continue to pass as teenagers despite the scrubs, lab coats and intense focus in their eyes. Gathering around the table around Connor the group of students eagerly looked to Abby for guidance.

"Alright, students." Trying to sound like a teacher as she addressed the interns Abby turned on the Thirial activity monitor attached to the exam table and placed two wireless sensor pads down over Connor's chest to record his vital signs. "I know you were expecting to learn about a 'PL-600' today, but my volunteer is no longer available because I screwed up my schedule; that's my bad. Today instead you're going to learn about a prototype model of an android known as the 'RK-800', and I personally feel that learning more about prototypes than final designs is far more beneficial than anything else on your road to becoming technicians."

Connor stared up at the six interns with his glassy brown eyes and tried to take in a deep breath to calm himself as his congestion continued to build in his ventilation biocomponents.

"For clarification our patient here, Connor," keeping the exam from becoming impersonal or cold Abby spoke clearly and eloquently. "is suffering from an advanced case of 'Groupware Blight v1.0', arguably now upgraded to '2.0', and is undergoing the final tests to confirm the diagnosis before I begin treatment."

Remaining still on the table Connor tried to not think about the interns taking notes and staring at him like he was a prop in a show rather than a thinking, feeling, conscious being. The cold analytical stare was the same that the technicians at CyberLife used to give whenever they studied his processor, his software, his hardware and even his basic reflexes during exams.

"Now, onto the differences between prototypes and final designs." Leaning over the exam table Abby gently put her right palm on the deviant's thick dark hair and spoke to him a sweet tone. "Can you please deactivate your artificial skin over your chest and abdomen, Connor?"

Hesitating for a moment Connor closed his eyes and retracted the artificial skin where requested. As the layer of skin faded away the wireless leads moved slightly but remained attached to the now exposed plastimetal frame beneath to continue to monitor his vital signs.

"As you can see the plastimetal remains the same in color, density, material and overall design. And just like finished models on the market the durability and internal functions will vary from model to model. Connor here was designed to function as a detective with the local police, and as a result he was designed to be far more resilient than our average android, although he is not indestructible."

One of the interns raised his left hand as he gave Connor a curious look. "In what way is he more durable?"

The question made Connor internally wince and his heart rate speed up as those very types of questions were constantly being asked about him on a performance level whenever he reported to CyberLife after his missions. It was like his design was being peddled to the highest bidder at an auction.

"His spinal column is layered with titanium and diamond support discs to ensure he can withstand impact if he were to jump or even fall from a great height." Remembering how she had first met Connor after he had fallen from the roof of her former apartment building Abby explained things from her own personal experience in aiding the deviant after he had been injured. "Rather than the discs shattering upon impact they will simply displace as a means of cushioning the impact and preserving the internal biocomponents. It can result in temporary paralysis, but it's far easier to treat than entire biocomponent replacement."

Another intern raised her hand as she stared at Connor's face with a sense of familiarity in her focused gaze. "Isn't this the deviant who helped with the Revolution?"

The other five interns all took sudden interest in Connor's true identity and looked to Abby for confirmation.

"Well, yes. Connor did aid in the Revolution but that has nothing to do with his current condition. Please pay attention." Putting her left palm down on Connor's upper abdomen just below his chest Abby began applying pressure to release the locking mechanism on the panel covering his torso. The panel slid open and revealed Connor's artificial stomach, Thirium filter, sterilization filters, thermal regulator, gyroscope and his unique analysis filter. "Now, you should be familiar with the basic layout of the biocomponents of any android..."

Closing his eyes Connor stifled a cough as he began to breathe faster and resisted the urge to close up the panel over his abdomen again. Being so exposed and vulnerable under so many prying eyes was making his heart and mind race as a strange sense of panic set in. The fear that someone was going to reach their hand inside his abdomen and begin adjusting his biocomponents, wires, lines or design made his heart race even faster.

"S-Stop." The plea was a shaking whisper that escaped everyone's ears. "...Please stop."

"Take notice of the analysis filter," Abby continued with the lesson while Connor struggled to focus his thoughts and calm himself down. "and notice that it's connected in such a way that-" The Thirial activity monitor that was still recording Connor's vital signs and the elevated heart rate caught Abby's attention. Reading the rising stress levels alongside the rapid heartbeat on the deviant's behalf Abby decided to end the lesson a little early the moment Connor's yellow L.E.D. flashed to red under the diagnostic cable. "Damn. Okay, due to the patient's pre-existing condition I'm going to need to dismiss you and reschedule the lesson. I'm sorry about that. Again, my bad."

"But..." The first intern spoke up as if offended by being asked to step out of the room. "you said learning about prototypes is important."

"It is, but keeping the patient comfortable and stable is the most important thing you can ever do as a technician." Closing up Connor's abdomen with a ginger touch Abby stood by her decision and, more importantly, stood by her patient. "He's uncomfortable and stress can be the most harmful thing to a deviant's state of mind and body. Go up front and I'll sign off on your lesson and let your professors know I'll reschedule the full lesson for later on. Everyone who leaves now will get an 'A' or a gold star."

The group looked sorely disappointed but obediently left the exam room as they had been instructed.

With the room now cleared out Abby returned her left palm to Connor's right cheek and used her thumb to gently rub comforting circles on his skin. "It's okay, Connor. It's over and no one's going to hurt you. I'm sorry you got scared."

Struggling to breathe properly due to his panic and congestion Connor began to cough and overheat even further. Blindly trying to push Abby's hand away from his face Connor's ventilation continued to worsen as he continued to panic.

"Shh... It's okay. They were just students and have absolutely nothing to do with CyberLife." Already knowing of Connor's history and the root of his fears Abby spoke softly, warmly and sweetly as Connor's glassy eyes stared blankly at the ceiling above him. Checking the monitor Abby grimaced at the deviant's core temperature climbing up to one-hundred and two degrees at a stead pace. "You're safe here, I promise. No one will hurt you."

"...Stop."

"It's over, Connor. They're gone." Watching his vitals slowly lowering to a healthier parameter Abby kept speaking softly to him and combing her fingers gently through his hair. "You're okay. You're still okay."

When Hank returned the door slid open yet again with a hiss that made Connor jump and cough again as his continued to remain guarded and panicky. "Kid?" The high strung behavior didn't go unnoticed and Hank promptly stood on the other side of the table as Abby and lightly put his left palm on the deviant's right shoulder. "Hey, what's going on?"

Abby replied in a whisper to ensure Connor could calm down a little. "Interning students were here for a quick lesson and I guess the process gave him a nasty flashback to 'you-know-who' doing 'you-know-what' to him. It shocked him and now he's enduring a small panic attack."

"Deviants can have- Honestly," shaking his head a little Hank lightly patted Connor's right shoulder in a comforting manner. "I shouldn't be surprised at this point that he can go suffer a panic attack like anyone else who can feel emotions."

Upon hearing Hank's voice Connor's eyes cleared up a little as he coughed again and gave the senior detective a curious glance. "...H-Hank?"

"Right here. Finished talking with Fowler and we're good for the day so you can rest and do whatever you need to do so you can heal."

"I-" Coughing more harshly Connor curled around himself on his left side and struggled to breathe as his body continued to rebel against him.

Abby responded by placing an oxygen mask over Connor's face to help him breathe through his congested filters until the corrupted software could be corrected. "It's hard, I know, but just keep breathing." Reclaiming her audioscope Abby pressed the bell over Connor's chest as the artificial skin regenerated over his torso, and then pressed it over his back to listen to his ventilation biocomponents. Glancing at the diagnostic modem's monitor Abby honed in on the red line of code confirming the corrupted software update and sighed. "You undoubtedly have been infected with an advanced case of 'Groupware blight 1.0', now officially '2.0', but I know what to do to help you."

The foreign term made Hank shake his head as the technician draped the audioscope around her neck and proceeded to unclip the diagnostic cable from Connor's L.E.D. with a soft 'click'. "What's wrong with him? I didn't understand anything beyond 'infected' and 'advanced'."

"Connor has the android-flu. A very serious case at that."

"Shit... I knew he was getting sick, but I didn't think it'd be a literal sickness like this." Watching as Connor's coughing fit passed Hank helped the deviant to roll onto his back again, then propped up the head of the bed so he was resting in a more elevated position. "How do we treat this?"

"First we start with this." Opening up a glass and metal storage cabinet beside the exam table Abby rummaged through various sized bottles of different colored liquids before selecting a large plastic bottle containing a bright green liquid compound. Holding up the bottle for Connor to see Abby returned to the exam table and let him see it and scan it directly. "This is true Thiricetomal. It's been redesigned to always be this exact shade of green, only come in liquid form and can only be obtained, for free, from a facility by a licensed technician."

Wanting to push the medication away from Connor in a protective manner Hank questioned the reason for the medicine in general. "Wait, I thought this shit was supposed to stop pain in deviants. He's not in pain."

"The aspect of the painkiller part of the medication has to be achieved." Abby explained as she checked Connor's vitals on the monitor just above his head. Her voice remained confident and kind as she opened up the bottle of medication and watched Connor's left hand weakly wrap around it to hold. "Until we can figure out a way to override pain receptors that fail to respond to automatic or manual commands we can only use common sense treatment. However, during the preliminary testing of Thiricetomal we discovered that it has a positive effect on the thermal regulator that increases the device's ability to recalibrate and help lower the core temperature more effectively."

"So... It's a fever reducer?"

"You got it, Hank. I'd give you a gold star sticker, but I'm all out."

"Thanks." Keeping his palm on Connor's shoulder Hank gave the technician a blank look as he watched her pick up a chart to begin filling it out. "I guess."

"Connor," helping the deviant to sit more upright on the exam table Abby helped Connor take his first dose of the medication. "one tablespoon every six hours until either you've recovered or the entire bottle is empty. This is your best chance at a quick and full recovery."

Begrudgingly Connor drank the medicine and fought the urge to spit the vile taste out and onto the floor as his red L.E.D. flickered wildly. It was an actual fight to swallow it as every single one of sensors tried to tell him the medication wasn't meant to be consumed, but alas he had to override his unreliable system for a moment and properly ingest the medication as instructed.

"Sorry about the nasty taste." Capping the bottle Abby watched as Connor wrapped both arms around his stomach as the potent liquid went to work on lowering his core temperature to help him stabilize. "We're working on changing it from rubbing alcohol and into something people actually like. Like cherry!"

Speaking up in a shaking tone Connor closed his eyes and remained slumped over where he sat. "...It hurts 'by stomach."

"That's a side effect we're still struggling to take care of." Abby admitted as she gently combed her right fingers through his hair to try to help him physically feel better until the corrupted software could be repaired. "The more advanced your sensors are the more uncomfortable your stomach will feel."

Sympathetically Hank patted Connor's back and watched as the red L.E.D. returned to yellow at last. "You'll be fine. Let's get ya' home to rest."

Abby shook her head a little as she put the medicine aside. "It'd be best if he stayed here for overni-"

Speaking up with an unexpectedly strong voice Connor refused to stay in the facility as he forced himself to sit up a little straighter. "No!" The glassy brown eyes looked frightened but determined. "I want 'do leave."

Before she could try to dissuade the request Hank sided with Connor and helped him to slide off the exam table. "Okay. You can crash in your bedroom and sleep this off as much as possible. In my personal experience sleeping is the best way to overcome being sick and feeling like shit."

"Hank," disagreeing with the idea Abby voiced her concerns vehemently. "this is a very advanced case of this particular error. I don't know how long it'll take him to recover from this thing. It could be three days like the original error," she stated in a somewhat concerned voice as he noticed Connor trembling a little on his feet. "or longer."

"Doesn't matter. I'll help him out and make sure he's comfortable as he recovers." Helping Connor to rebutton his shirt, vest and slip his gray blazer back on over his shoulders Hank took the bottle of medication in his right hand, and pulled Connor's right arm around his shoulders as the deviant wrapped his own left arm over his abdomen protectively. "He won't go back to work until he's well again. I swear to it."

Knowing that Connor would never be able to fully relax or rest inside the facility due to his previous experiences with such places, let alone his recent mini panic attack, Abby agreed to let the deviant go home with Hank under very strict stipulations. "Okay, well, if that's the case then I'm going to write down some basic instructions with treating him and making sure he rests properly. I'll also be stopping by the house tomorrow check on him."

"That's fine, Abby." Escorting Connor out of the exam room and down the short corridor Hank walked slowly to ensure Connor didn't lose his balance or pass out due to his current affliction. Entering the waiting room Hank helped Connor to sit down for a moment while he kept speaking with Abby to make sure the sick deviant was properly treated. "Don't worry about a thing, Connor. This won't be the first time I took care of a sick kid with a bad case of the flu."

Patiently waiting for the rain to clear up and for Gavin to return to the apartment Lucas proceeded to practice playing his saxophone; the soundproof floors, ceiling and walls were a blessing, and had only Lucky as his audience as the small kitten stared at Lucas as she sat on the coffee table before him. The song was an original piece that he hadn't named yet, but Lucas was determined to perfect the tune and even attribute lyrics to match the emotion of the song he was trying to convey as he played from somewhere deep inside his still developing heart.

Catching the sound of a key entering the door's lock Lucas lowered the instrument from his lips and looked toward the door as Gavin returned after his long shift. Holding a paper fast food bag in his left hand and a scowl on his face Gavin kicked off his shoes and locked the door behind himself as he entered the apartment.

"You've chosen to eat something very unhealthy." Without even needing to scan the contents of the fast food bag Lucas knew that the meal inside was full of grease, fat and high in cholesterol. Setting the saxophone down gently in its case on the floor beside the couch Lucas straightened his posture and watched Gavin carry the bag of food into the kitchen to tear open. "What is the point of going to the gym on a regular schedule if you're going to eat like that?"

"Idiot..." Taking a big coveted bite of his taco Gavin replied around the partially chew food in his mouth as salsa ran down from the corner of his mouth, and dripped onto the countertop where he was standing. "I go to the gym so I can eat like this!"

"You work out your body so you can poison it with unhealthy food?"

"No one lives forever, plastic. At least, no human lives forever." Taking another bite Gavin stood by his meal choice and savored every chew. "Besides, I already got a bum deal with being born with diabetes. I can't have sugar but damn it I can have grease, so I'm going to eat it."

"You still shouldn't do so."

"Too late." Finishing the taco Gavin reached into the bag and pulled out a second one to begin eating. "And you can't stop me."

"You're right. I cannot." Standing up from the couch Lucas walked toward the front door and opened up the nearby closet to get his own shoes and the leather jacket that Hank had bought him to help keep warm. "I can however strongly suggest you choose something less greasy in the near future."

"Not gonna' happen. So," enjoying his second taco Gavin watched the deviant slip on his jacket and shoes by the door. "where ya' going?"

"I decided it's time I paid Connor back for the money he had given me upon my original deviation. Now that you've returned from your shift I believe it's safe to presume that Connor has also returned home and I won't be intruding on his work."

"Actually, you could've seen him like... five hours ago."

"Oh?" The blue L.E.D. flashed to yellow as he considered Gavin's odd tone of voice.

"Yeah. According to Tina he got sick and went home early." Finishing the second taco in record time Gavin reached into the paper bag where he pulled out a third taco and a helping of nachos. "Can you guys even really get sick, or was that a lame excuse to cut out early?"

"Androids do not sick in the sme sense that humans do. However," cybernetically Lucas downloaded information on various glitches, errors and bugs that imitate human ailments in deviants. "there is something known as 'Groupware Blight v1.0' that imitates the human flu in deviants. It's more prevalent in older models of androids and prototypes." The yellow L.E.D. flashed to red for a moment as he received an update on the very condition he was researching. "But it appears a new and more debilitating version of this malfunction has just been diagnosed and confirmed."

"Are you telling me that deviants can actually get sick?"

"In the most basic terms, yes. We can."

"Fuck. Well, if Connor really is sick then don't get sick, too!" Carrying his meal into the livingroom Gavin sat down on the couch and put his dinner on the coffee table to resume eating. Dropping a tiny piece of steak from his nachos onto the table for Lucky to enjoy Gavin gave Lucas a stern glare. "I am NOT going to be taking care of a roommate with the flu again. Last time that happened I had to wash vomit and actual shit out of bed sheets without puking all over myself!"

"As unfortunate as it was for you to have to tend to a sick acquaintance I strongly suspect that said sick acquaintance felt even worse."

"Are you kidding? He was zonked out of his head flu medicine and thought it was hilarious!"

"It's a good thing I don't share a human's sense of humor." Opening the door Lucas cybernetically hailed an autonomous cab and stepped outside of the apartment to set about his overdue visit with Connor. "I shall return later. Please don't choke to death while I'm gone."

"Why Lucas, I'm touched." Miming a tear rolling down his cheek Gavin gave him an irritated sneer. "That's the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me!"

Standing in the opened bedroom doorway with his arms crossed over his chest and his right shoulder leaning against the door's frame Hank watched the sick deviant sleeping in a slightly upright position on the bed with Sumo cuddled up over his ankles. During the drive back to the house Hank had to pull to the side of the road so Connor could throw-up once, the medication he had drunk coming back up with a twice as vile taste, and ended up having to wipe off Connor's bluish-green chin with an old fast food napkin because he was too miserable to do it himself. Having practically carried Connor from the car and into the house through the garage Hank helped Connor change into his night clothes and finally lay down on the bed atop several pillows, and was now watching as Connor's chest slowly rose and fell with his congested breathing that was somewhat audible from the distance.

After smoothing out a cold damp washcloth over Connor's feverish forehead and placing an empty mop bucket on the floor beside the bed in the event Connor got sick again, Hank left the deviant alone to sleep and placed the green Thiricetomal in the refrigerator to be chilled as Abby had instructed. It wouldn't be another five hours until Connor needed another dose of the medication, but even so Hank didn't want to be too far away from Connor in case he felt sick again.

The blue marring of Connor's complexion was enough for Hank to gauge how sick Connor truly was, whereas the constant urge to check on the compress kept Hank lingering protectively in the doorway. Monitoring Connor from the distance Hank patiently waited for any changes in the deviant's condition, or for Connor to wake up from his deep rest mode.

Forcing himself to walk away from the bedroom for a moment Hank stood in the livingroom and pulled his phone from his jean pocket to reexamine the message left by Markus from the day before. It had been read but never responded to as Hank didn't know what to say or do in regard to the message. Slipping the phone into his pocket Hank leaned his hands over the back of the couch and let out a slow breath to ease the headache that was starting to inch its way forward as the senior detective stressed himself over his suddenly sick friend's health.

A subtle coughing from Connor's bedroom made Hank straighten back up as he listened for any sign of Connor calling out to him or getting up, but remained in place behind the couch. "Damn flu always goes after the strongest detective in the bullpen. Strangest fuckin' compliment anyone could ever get."

Soft knocking on the locked front door made Hank turn to look at the doorway curiously and was reluctant to acknowledge the unexpected visitor. Reaching the door Hank unlocked and pulled it open without checking out the window first and felt his spine stiffen with surprise at the visitor standing on the other side of the door in the rain. "Lucas?"

"Hello, Lieutenant." With drops of rain soaking into his hair Lucas tried to give the senior detective a smile as he greeted Hank politely.

"Call me 'Hank'."

"Hank, then."

Stepping back Hank looked at the rain coming down all around the deviant to ensure Lucas knew he was welcome to enter the house and get warm. "What're you doing here?"

"I wanted to repay Connor for his previous act of generosity." The answer sounded sincere and Lucas had no reason to lie about anything. "I stayed in the hotel for only a single night and retained the additional finances to purchase a saxophone, and now I wish to return the money that I had used."

"Uh, sure. Come in." Stepping aside Hank let Lucas inside the house and out of the rain before closing the door behind the visiting deviant. "Connor's down with the flu right now. You might want to just leave the money on the bookcase and try seeing him again in a few days after he's had some time to recover."

Lucas's blue L.E.D. flashed to yellow as he gave the gruff Lieutenant a perplexed stare. "Why would I wait?"

"Because I don't want you to get infected from getting too close to Connor."

"I see. Androids cannot infect one another through close physical proximity, only cybernetic connections." Sound entirely confident and surprisingly human in comparison to the way Connor spoke Lucas assured Hank that wouldn't become ill for checking on Connor. Not only did he want to thank Connor in person, he wanted to make sure the ill deviant wasn't in any danger. "I will refrain from cybernetic connections at all times."

Rubbing his right index finger over his tired right eye Hank sighed and led the way down the hallway. "Alright, he's down here."

Following after Hank into the bedroom Lucas stared at Connor for a moment then noticed Sumo watching him from where he was laying. The sight of the massive dog gave Lucas pause as he had never been in the presence of a dog before, only a very small kitten.

"He's harmless." Hank stated as he saw Lucas lock eyes with the dog and the blue L.E.D. flash to a cautious yellow for a moment. "Sumo, meet Lucas."

Repeating the name Lucas gave the large dog a curious look. "Sumo?"

Hearing his name Sumo wagged his tail as he stared at Lucas for a moment, then over to Connor, then back to Lucas as if trying to figure out why there was suddenly two Connor's instead of just one.

Approaching the bed Lucas slowly extended his right hand and let Sumo take in his scent as an instinctive response to the large animal. Sumo rewarded Lucas by licking the back of his hand and continued to stared up at the second deviant happily.

"Good dog, Sumo." Praising Sumo for being gentle Hank walked over to the foot of the bed and patted Sumo's back lightly.

"...Good dog." Lucas pet Sumo's ears gently as he realized that despite his size Sumo really wasn't aggressive and was merely just being a loyal guard dog toward Connor while he was ill. Returning his focus to Connor as he dozed in the bed Lucas reached into his right jean pocket and pulled out a wad of dollar bills and placed them on the nightstand beside the bed. "That is all the money I spent thanks to your generosity, Connor. I... I appreciate you looking out for me as you did."

In his sleep Connor's brow furrowed slightly and his yellow L.E.D. cycled a little faster as he registered Lucas's voice speaking to him. Opening his glassy brown eyes Connor looked up at Lucas as the deviant stood beside his bed. Before he could speak a dry cough escaped his lips and Connor could feel his artificial lungs being seized by the clogged filters with each breath he took.

"Hello, Connor. Try not to speak, I understand you're unwell." Running a scan over Connor's person without cybernetically connecting his processor to the ill deviant's processor by accident Lucas could see all the errors that had manifested in Connor's external symptoms and stared at him sympathetically. He had never been sick and by the look of Connor's current condition he didn't want to ever experience it. "I'm here to pay you back for your kindness."

Blinking slowly Connor tried to ignore the tight feeling in his chest as he spoke up in a whisper as his L.E.D. flickered repeatedly between yellow and red. "...You didn't owe me anything."

"I had presumed as much considering you never expressly stated that you wished to be paid back, but I wanted to pay you back and I have done so."

Nodding in acknowledgment Connor tried to speak again but ended up coughing so harshly it affected his artificial stomach and caused it to rebel against him. Painfully curling around himself on his left side Connor dry heaved only once before Hank grabbed the bucket from the floor and placed it beside the deviant's head as he guided Connor over to the receptacle to catch his vomit.

"Let it out, kid." Holding the bucket with his right hand Hank used his left hand to gently rub circles on Connor's back between his shoulders. "The worst part about the flu is all the messes. You'll be okay."

Lucas monitored Connor's vitals as the sick deviant lost a disconcerting amount of Thirium in three painful retches against his will. With each retch Connor's core temperature would raise a little higher and made him feel all the worse from the physical exertion. "You should consume chilled Thirium."

Spitting the foul taste from his mouth Connor fell back onto the bed to lay flat on his back and didn't respond. Taking in deep panting breaths Connor's yellow L.E.D. flickered back and forth between its amber illumination and to red as his system compensated for the physical distress he had just endured.

"Is there any chilled Thirium in the house?" Asking the question in a calm manner Lucas took the bucket full of the expelled Thirium from Hank's grip to properly dispose of it elsewhere.

"Uh, yeah." Hank had sat down on the edge of the bed and was now replacing the washcloth over Connor's forehead in a comforting manner. "I put a couple bottles in the fridge when I put his medicine in there."

Without a further word Lucas carried the empty bucket out of the bedroom and located the bathroom across the way. Dumping the expelled Thirium down the toilet Lucas flushed away the mess and placed the bucket down in the bath tub beneath the faucet to run some water into for a moment before he walked down the hallway.

Easily navigating the small house Lucas took notice of the modest furnishings and very sparse personal touches that would reflect a family home with a curious eye. The lack of photographs or other small decorations reminded Lucas of Gavin and the way the abrasive detective chose to live very minimally due to his poor childhood instilling a sense of not needing anything beyond the basic necessities to live.

Locating the Thirium in the refrigerator Lucas carried one of the two bottles back into the bedroom and removed the lid as he entered the room. "If you can prop him upright I can assist him in drinking the Thirium."

"Are you sure his stomach can handle it?" Putting his left hand beneath Connor's hair Hank slowly lifted the deviant more upright and then placed him back down over the propped up pillows he had been leaning against to aid his breathing before he threw-up. "That was a lot of puke."

"He must bring his Thirium back up. He is currently at seventy-seven percent volume."

"Shit. Alright, hold on..." Shaking Connor's right shoulder gently Hank roused up the deviant from his most recent round of rest mode long enough to get Connor to open his eyes and look up at him again. "Hey, you need to drink some Thirium."

Shaking his head a little Connor coughed again, his tongue and inner lips now blue with the lost Thirium, and refused to drink it.

"You have to, son. Come on." Moving his left arm to wrap around Connor's shoulders Hank let the deviant lean against him as Lucas presented the bottle of Thirium to his lips. "Nice and slow. It's chilled, so it should feel good in your stomach."

Reluctantly Connor slowly drank the Thirium as Lucas steadily tipped the bottle to let a very small amount of the crucially needed Thirium drip into his mouth to be swallowed. Only managing to drink half the bottle Connor leaned back and looked like he was going to be sick again.

"Alright, that's good for now." Letting Connor lay back down Hank took the somewhat warm washcloth from his forehead and rose from the bed. Taking the Thirium from Lucas's hand as well Hank exited the bathroom and entered the bathroom to turn off the faucet in the tub and replace the warm washcloth with a fresh cold one.

"Connor, is there anything you need?" Lucas took Hank's place on the edge of the bed and searched the ill deviant's face with a worried glance. "I know that due to our mutual distrust of New Jericho that gaining any supplies or assistance can be very limiting. I wish to help you."

"I... I'm okay." Closing his eyes Connor's head lolled a little to the side as his exhaustion won out and he slipped back into rest mode. "Thank you... Lucas."

Watching the interaction as he returned to the bedroom Hank could see that Lucas's concerns toward Connor were genuine. "You're really worried about him." Smoothing the cold washcloth over Connor's forehead again Hank looked to Lucas as he replaced the bucket on the floor beside the bed. "Right? You're worried?"

"...Yes. I am."

"Well, he was worried about you, too. So I guess that makes you two even."

Lucas's blue L.E.D. flashed to yellow as he stood up from the bed and gave both of the detectives a lost stare. "He was? Why?"

"Because you just took off from the hotel after day one and told him to leave you alone."

The transfixed stare fell to the floor guiltily as Lucas remembered that he indeed told Connor to give him space. "...I apologize that my request for privacy caused either of you to worry about me. As you can see I am in fact fine."

"Yeah, we know. We've known for a while." Motioning for Lucas to follow him out of the bedroom Hank gave the flu ridden deviant some space to be sick and miserable without having to worry about entertaining an audience. Stretching out his back by leaning backward a little as he walked Hank tilted his neck to the side with an audible 'crack' and showed Lucas to the couch to sit down. "A while back he was worried that you'd be living on the streets during the remainder of winter and tracked ya' down to a small vacant spot on Baker Street."

"I was unaware that Connor had even been in my area."

"The kid's good at keeping a low profile and not bothering anyone. We, uh, we heard ya' playing your sax." Pointing his right index finger at Lucas from as he walked backward Hank gave him an amused grin while he carried the Thirium back into the refrigerator to resume chilling. "You're good!"

Blushing a faint pale blue Lucas accepted the compliment as he stood beside the couch with military perfect posture. "Thank you."

"Connor's been slowly picking up the guitar, but over the past few weeks his interest seems to have dropped."

"May I ask how Connor is adapting to his deviancy in general? I know emotions are hard to grasp for many deviants."

"Uh... Well, he's pretty reserved and quiet. When he gets hit with nightmares he always goes into hiding and he seems to be struggling to identify his emotions and overall feelings thanks to-" Stopping himself short Hank tried not to think about the phone in his pocket with Markus's message still saved for Connor to read later. Plopping down on the couch Hank let out a breathy sigh as he also tried to not stress himself too much while Connor was down and sick. "You know what he went through."

"Yes, I'm aware." Sitting down on the couch beside Hank in a single swift motion Lucas contemplated Connor's difficult relationship with New Jericho with a real disdain in his thoughts. "Has there been any contact between Connor and New Jericho since my reactivation?"

"Just when Markus was framed for murder. After that they went quiet and Connor seems to be a little confused by everything he did to help Markus out."

"Connor knows Markus is guilty of one murder already." Referring to the night Markus gunned Connor himself down Lucas sharply deduced the cause of Connor's personal discomfort. "I imagine proving Markus innocent of a second murder would be very conflicting."

"You got that right."

"Is there anything I can do to help him? We may not be friends nor do we have any real reason to associate with one another, but..." Feeling himself blush faintly again Lucas tried to discuss what was on his mind without getting too uncomfortable in the process. "I've been contemplating how Connor and I are the only 'RK' models of our design in existence and are arguably... twins."

Hank's brow arched with righteous inquisition as he gave the very private deviant a stunned glance. Part of what truly separated Connor from Lucas was that Connor was willing to socialize despite his personal discomforts and desires to be left alone, whereas Lucas had intentionally gone into hiding and hadn't revealed anything about where he was currently residing or how he had earned the money to pay Connor back.

Rubbing his right hand over his bearded chin Hank kicked his feet up onto the coffee table and gave Lucas his full attention. "Are you trying to figure out if you want to have a real sibling relationship with Connor and be his little brother?"

"Yes." Nodding where he sat Lucas confirmed the question as his L.E.D. pulsed in a calm blue in his right temple. "I believe I do."

"It's fine with me if you want to hang out and get to know Connor more, but I can't answer for him."

"Of course. Understandable." Painful coughing sounded off from Connor's bedroom again causing both Hank and Lucas to look toward the hallway. Running a scan over the area Lucas noted a singular area of intense heat that was coming from the bedroom of interest. "I believe his core temperature is rising."

"Shit." Getting right to his feet Hank rushed down the hallway and entered the bedroom in time to see Connor beginning to toss and turn in his sleep as his fever increased to a higher degree. "Kid?" Sitting down on the edge of the bed Hank put both hands on the deviant's shoulders to try to hold him as still as possible. "It's okay, you're safe..."

Following after Hank into the bedroom Lucas looked at the ill deviant and confirmed his scanner's results. "His core temperature has reached one-hundred and three point two degrees. He cannot hear you."

"Damn it..."

"I'll bring more ice packs to aid the cool compress over his forehead."

"Right, check the freezer." Staying beside the very sick deviant Hank called his name and tried to get him to calm down. "Connor, take it easy. You're okay."

Muttering the names 'Amanda' and 'Markus' in his sleep between coughs it was clear Connor was suffering from an intense fever induced nightmare.

"Lay still and relax. You're just a little sick, that's all."

"I have the ice packs." Lucas didn't hesitate to put the collected ice against the back of Connor's neck, over his chest after pulling back the quilt and placed a third ice pack over his abdomen. "Connor has Thiricetomal which can only be obtained from a facility." Noting the green tinted medication in the refrigerator from when he picked up the chilled Thirium Lucas asked about Connor's most recent technical care. "Why didn't he remain in the facility due to the severity of his current malfunction?"

"He hates facilities and he would've just stressed himself out if he was forced to stay." Holding Connor down as much as possible without harming him Hank continued to speak to the ill deviant in a kind and understanding voice. "Connor, you're just having a nightmare. No one's going to hurt you."

Soulful brown irises reappeared under a glassy gaze as Connor honed in Hank's voice and forced himself out of emergency stasis mode. "...H-Hank?"

"Right here, son."

The hoarse and dry voice sounded entirely pitiful. "...S-Stomach."

"Does it hurt?"

Nodding a little Connor confirmed the question. "...Hot."

"We're taking care of it. Your fever just got a little higher than we would've liked."

Wanting to take the right first step to establish a brotherly relationship with Connor and wanting to help the ill deviant through his malfunction Lucas walked to the other side of the bed and sat down near Sumo as pressed his right palm down over the ice pack atop Connor's chest. "We're using external means to lower your core temperature. I will remain here until your temperature decreases to a more manageable degree."

Looking over at Lucas with a distant gaze Connor sighed and winced as the simple motion made his chest hurt in the process.

"Rest for now. We will be tending to you until you are strong enough to take care of yourself."

Appreciative of the help Hank moved his right palm to the cold washcloth over Connor's forehead Hank agreed and gave the deviant a kind smirk. "He's right. You're safe and can rest easy. We'll be right here when you wake up."

Closing his eyes slowly Connor returned to rest mode and his body relaxed as he drifted off to a feverish sleep. "...Okay."

"That's it." Glad to see Connor being cooperative for once Hank spoke in a whisper to ensure the deviant slept peacefully. "Just rest."

Throughout the rest of the evening Lucas helped Hank to maintain Connor's fever and ensured that the sick deviant's temperature didn't spike a second time. Fascinated by the way Connor would occasionally sing a little in his sleep during his fitful rest Lucas began asking more questions about Connor's hobbies and experiences out of a truly curious nature. When Hank mentioned their attempts at growing plants and how Connor had been tending to the white carnation seedling with diligent care Lucas contemplated picking up a secondary hobby as well beyond just his music.

As ten o'clock in the evening came around Connor's temperature reduced to a far more reasonable one-hundred point two degrees and his nightmares seemed to leave him alone at long last. Lucas took one final scan of Connor's system and gave Hank an idea of what to expect and how to treat his symptoms, but with that information also came a time frame for Connor's recovery that Hank was not expecting.

"A week?" Standing outside Connor's still opened bedroom door Hank his hands to his hips and gave Lucas a stunned stare. "You're sure it'll take that long?"

"Affirmative. His system has identified the corrupted data in the software update and has begun repairing said corruption, and will begin recalibration shortly thereafter. Estimated time to a full repair completion: one-hundred and fifty-six hours, fifty-eight minutes and four seconds."

"Shit... That's a long time for anyone to be sick." Peering into the dimly lit bedroom Hank sighed and had flashbacks to the countless sleepless nights he spent with Cole whenever the little boy was sick with a cold, or had colic as a baby. "Poor kid."

"If you'd like I can return tomorrow afternoon and help take care of Connor."

"Thanks, Lucas. But I think between me and his personal technician stopping by tomorrow he'll be covered."

"Oh... I see."

"BUT..." Hearing the disappointment in Lucas's voice made Hank give him an appreciative grin where he stood. It was rare that anyone would volunteer their time to help out a sick person, let alone someone they barely knew. "the day after that I need to go back to work. Think you can stop by then and make sure he isn't alone while I'm working?"

"Y-Yes, of course!" The gray eyes lit up a little as Lucas readily accepted the offer and agreed to helping out. "I can do that."

"Cool. Fair warning though," glancing at Connor sleeping with slow labored breaths while Sumo stayed beside him Hank's shoulders slumped with a sense of defeat that was audible in his words. "he's a stubborn patient. He won't be as cooperative as you'd hope for."

"I'm sure I can handle it." The memories of his slowly developing friendship with Gavin immediately came to mind as he contemplated dealing with a stubborn and sick deviant as he did an abrasive and reclusive detective. If he could handle Gavin whenever he got 'hangry', stressed out from the precinct or spent another sleepless night enduring insomnia, then Lucas was certain he'd be able to handle a reluctant deviant patient for a few hours. "When should I arrive?"

"Well, I'm usually out the door by eight-thirty, so if you could show up a little before that then it'd be perfect."

"I can do that." A sense of what Lucas could only describe as pride filled his mind knowing that Hank was willing to trust him long enough to stay with Connor for the day while he was sick. In time he hoped Connor would be willing to trust him as well. "I will also ensure he drinks his medication when necessary, no much he tries to resist."

"Yeah, geez... Think you can handle that alone?" Two hours prior he and Lucas had to work together to get Connor to drink the vile tasting medication, and even while sick Connor managed to put up a decent fight. "That's almost as bad as trying to get a dog to swallow a pill."

What looked like a smirk appeared on Lucas's face, the expression was something Hank had never seen from Connor, and the deviant remained confident in his ability to tend to Connor alone. "I can handle it. I know this is something I can do."

The sound of Connor softly singing in his sleep pulled Lucas's attention away from Hank and over to the ill deviant laying in the bed.

"He does that sometimes." Already knowing what Lucas was thinking Hank answered the question before it was even asked. "He's uses music to keep his nightmares at bay and occasionally he'll sing in his sleep."

"That's a very curious trait to acquire."

"It's better than sleepwalking. Besides," listening to the song Hank chuckled a little and gave Lucas a coy smirk. "he's good. Maybe musical talent runs in the 'RK' line or something..."

"Music?" With his blue L.E.D. flashing to yellow for a moment Lucas considered the comment and logged it away for future use. "Interesting..."

Throughout his less than restful sleep Connor found himself plagued by haunting images from his past and cruel nightmares that would never let him sleep in peace. Struggling to keep his rest mode engaged as his system would give him constant updates on his corrupted software being repaired Connor was laying semiconscious in the bed as he endured the worst of his android-flu symptoms in silent discomfort. Beyond his thick and warm quilt the only other thing he was physically aware of was Sumo's warm body laying at his right side and the cold damp washcloth over his forehead in an attempt to keep his elevated core temperature from affecting his intracranial processor.

The sound of the floorboards in his bedroom creaking under Hank's footsteps caused Connor to open his tired glassy eyes and peer up at the senior detective as Hank checked in on him without making too much noise. Letting out a weak and frustrated cough Connor pressed his left hand over the center of his chest while Sumo licked at his right hand in a comforting manner.

"I wish that medicine could so something about your cough." Sympathetically Hank pressed his right palm over the washcloth and determined that it was still adequately cool. Holding out a digital thermometer Hank motioned for Connor to lower his jaw for a more accurate temperature check. "You sound miserable."

"I-" Coughing again Connor took in a deep breath and tried to not think about what he was going through. "...I feel miserable."

"You look it, too." Placing the digital device in Connor's mouth Hank waited for it to 'beep' after ten seconds and pulled the thermometer back to read the number for himself. "One-hundred and one point eight. It's not as bad as it was but it's still up there."

"...I'll be fine as I am. My thermal regulator will recalibrate soon."

"I hope you're right." Putting the thermometer on the nightstand beside the bed Hank decided to see how lucid the deviant had been when his fever had peaked the night before. "Do you remember Lucas stopping by last night?"

"...Lucas." Blinking a few times as he searched his memorybank Connor remembered hearing Lucas's voice and glanced at the nightstand beside his bed. The sight of the money help solidify the previous memories and gave him clarification of what he had missed. "...I remember."

"Good. He, uh, he wants to help you feel better and is going to be here tomorrow when I go to work."

"But... why?"

"He just wants to have peaceful relationship with you. Like a friend." Excluding the terms 'sibling' and 'brother' Hank gauged how Connor could react to the prospect of having Lucas actually around from time to time. "I think he was able to find himself and now he's looking to have a sense of trust in the world."

Closing his eyes again Connor let out a weary breath as Hank lifted up his hand from the washcloth. "...That's okay."

"Cool. Sleep for a while, Abby will be here in a few hours to check on ya'." Straightening back up Hank pressed both of his hands to his tense lower back muscles and leaned back to try to stretch out the tired and tense muscles as much as possible. "I'm going to shower off and I try to get Sumo to leave you alone long enough to eat and go outside."

"...Okay."

"Get some more sleep. I'll check on ya' later."

As Hank left the bedroom Connor relaxed his body as much as possible and manually activated rest mode while disabling the notifications of his software repair progress. Falling back into the critically needed rest mode Connor wasn't sure how long he actually slept as his processor struggled to keep track of time, his other functions beyond his self healing program and his overall recalibration. Just in general the fog that came over his consciousness as the dreaded android-flu reeked havoc on his body was enough to result in his semi confused state of mind.

It wasn't until the right side of the bed suddenly became cooler after Sumo jumped down from the bed was Connor aware of his environment changing. Turning his head against his pillow Connor looked over at the terracotta pot on his windowsill and scanned the flower seedling only to receive an error message due to his lower power level.

"...I can't even take care of a little seed." A dip on the left side of the bed caused Connor to look over at his visitor with glazed stare in his eyes. "...Hi."

"Hi, yourself." Abby smiled kindly as she pressed her left palm to Connor's too warm right cheek in a comforting manner. While his core temperature wasn't dangerously high Abby still wanted the fever to break entirely. Placing her technician's satchel down on the floor beside the bed Abby gave Connor her full attention and placed a thermal wrap around his left wrist. "Hank told me your temperature spiked last night, but you've been staying at a somewhat cooler temperature ever since."

"...Correct." Coughing after speaking Connor closed his eyes and took in deep congested breaths to try to relax again as his artificial lungs seized and struggled to ventilate properly.

"Lay still." Opening the satchel on the floor Abby pulled out her audioscope and put the earbuds into place before pressing the metal bell over Connor's chest over his black t-shirt. Listening to his ventilation biocomponents struggling to pull in air properly to keep his core temperature as low as possible Abby determined that the clog in the filters wasn't getting any worse, but it wasn't getting any better either. "Damn. I was hoping your ventilation biocomponents would've cleared up a little overnight."

"...I won't go back-" Pausing to take in a breath to stop another coughing fit from even starting Connor slowly continued his statement. "...to the facility."

"I won't make you if you don't want to go. Just try to relax as much as you can and I'll check on your filters." Returning the audioscope to the satchel Abby replaced it with her internal viewing screen and held it over Connor's chest. Honing in on the artificial lungs Abby sighed and patted his chest lightly under her right palm. "Well, I could manually clean the filters myself, but I suspect until your corrupted software is repaired it'd be like putting a band aid on a broken leg."

"...I'll be fine."

"I know you will. And I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure you stay fine."

"...How?"

"More ice packs for starters." Checking the reading on the thermal wrap she sighed and removed it from his wrist in a gentle manner. "You're at one-hundred and one point six. The cooler your temperature the more efficiently your self healing program can run. Also," moving her palm from his chest and down his abdomen Abby lightly patted his stomach and gave him a sympathetic glance. "Hank told me you threw-up a few times yesterday, too. I might have to start a line of Thirium in your arm to up your reserves without upsetting your stomach in the process."

"...Can I have the medicine through the line as well?"

"Nope. Thiricetomal needs to be ingested. If it goes right in your lines it'll cause a painful burning sensation all over your body and make you twice as sick."

Laying back Connor sighed and tried not to jump when Sumo himself jumped onto the bed again. The massive dog shook the bed on its frame a little as he circled around at Connor's feet then laid down to resume cuddling with the ill deviant in a protective manner.

"Think you can enter rest mode for an additional three hours?"

"...Three hours?"

"It'll be time for your next dose of medicine." Rubbing Sumo's ears gently as she spoke Abby gave Connor a casual shrug of her shoulders. "The more you rest and the more you cooperate the sooner you'll heal."

Grimacing at the idea of being greeted with that repugnant medication the moment he awoke again from his persistent nightmares made the very idea of sleep seem cruel. "...I'd rather not."

"Why's that?"

"I keep..." Not wanting to admit he was terrified of his own dreams Connor tried to deflect the question as casually as possible. "...The overheating is affecting my rest cycle." Pausing again to keep himself from becoming winded while his artificial lungs were still compromised Connor simply watched as Abby checked the washcloth over his forehead and stayed by his side. "...It results in unpleasant imagery during my dreams."

"Overheating induced nightmares are unfortunately a common problem in deviants. Since we're not quite sure what triggers actual dreams in deviants as opposed to replaying memories during rest mode we can't even stop them from occurring when they're actually pleasant. But... I do know that human remedies for nightmares do seem to help deviants in the same way."

"...Remedies?"

"Try sleeping under a weighted blanket. They help reduce stress, anxiety and let you sleep deeper." Giving the deviant a somber glance Abby confessed a little secret of her own to try to ease his mind. "Ever since that day at my apartment where my ex snuck in and hid waiting for me I started having frequent nightmares, and I was afraid to be alone in my new house even after I locked all the doors and windows. I used a weighted blanket and it helped immensely. My nightmares went away and I've been sleeping peacefully ever since."

Trying but failing to cybernetically download any information on such a simple remedy left Connor feeling entirely weak and almost useless where he laid.

"Keep sleeping and I'll bring you some ice. I'll also start a Thirium line in your arm so your body will relax a little better while you sleep."

Blinking his glassy and partially blue bloodshot eyes at Abby with a sense of utter misery behind his gaze Connor agreed and manually activated his rest mode to last for three hours as instructed. Feeling his body relaxing and his mind calming Connor was only vaguely aware of Abby pulling her hand away from his abdomen and replacing the quilt over top of him in a gentle manner.

Rising from the bed without jostling Connor in the process Abby picked up her satchel from the floor and exited the bedroom with a silently gracefully gait. "Just be patient and you'll be back to normal in a few more days."

The next time Connor awoke was three hours later and he was buried under several bags of partially melted ice. Forcing himself to sit upright in his bed Connor's head swam a little and the washcloth fell from his forehead and into his lap. The wave of dizziness proved to be too much for his stomach and Connor let out a small groan of discomfort as he reached for the bucket beside his bed, the external Thirium line running into his arm going unnoticed, and threw-up yet again causing the yellow L.E.D. to flash to red during the vomiting spell. It didn't take long for Hank to react to the sound and check in on Connor as the deviant's stomach rebelled and he retched painfully into the bucket in his shaking grip.

Instinctively the senior detective put his right palm down on Connor's left shoulder to help him stay somewhat stable as he threw-up and waited for the bout of sickness to pass. The abundance of lost Thirium in the bucket made Hank's own stomach knot with worry that the deviant was actually far sicker than anyone could've predicted.

"Maybe I should ask Abby to come back." Taking the bucket from Connor's grip Hank helped him to lay back down and pressed his left palm over his forehead to check his fever. "You're getting warm again."

"...I'll be fine."

"Yeah, I know." Motioning to the now empty Thirium I.V. bag hanging from a small nail in the wall above the bed Hank wasn't sure if he should remove it or not since he knew very little about android health. "I hope that Thirium didn't go to waste."

"...It can be replaced."

"Aside from your stomach, how do you feel?"

"...There has been no change in my discomfort."

"That bad, huh? Well, at least you don't sound as rough anymore. Your not as congested today."

"Yes. I-" Stopping midsentence Connor's eyes began to water and his yellow L.E.D. flickered to red as his chest suddenly tensed and the deviant let out a deep sneeze that made Sumo bark once. Stunned by his own body's behavior Connor slumped back against his pillow and stared into the nothingness before him as he realized what he had just endured. "...I sneezed."

"Yeah, ya' did." Crossing his arms over his chest Hank gave Connor a courtesy that was expected after sneezing. "Bless you, by the way."

"...Thanks?"

"Man, I didn't know androids could sneeze, but then again... This little flu you're going through shouldn't shock me all that much anymore." Watching the deviant press his left fingertips over his blue nose Hank chuckled a little and took a step back from the bed. "I'll get ya' some tissues."

"...Tissues?" Turning to face the opened bedroom doorway as Hank opened up the hallway closet just outside of his vision Connor tried to understand the need for the tissues.

"Yeah, you need to blow your nose!"

"I need to... Do what?"

Hank's face reappeared in the doorway as he leaned away from the closet and gave Connor a stunned stare. "You're kidding me?"

"...About what?"

"You don't know how to blow your nose?"

"...No." If his cheeks weren't already blue from his flu it'd be easy to see him blushing in embarrassment. "I've never needed to."

"Alright, it's not a problem." Rummaging through the closet Hank finally found the unopened box of tissues and carried it into the bedroom for Connor to use after a quick explanation of how to effectively blow his nose. Opening the small square cardboard packaging Hank pulled one tissue out of the box to get the 'train' moving, then placed the box down on the nightstand beside the bed. "Hold the tissue over and under your nose."

Accepting the tissue Connor did as he was instructed and waited for Hank to explain things further.

"Now, take in a deep breath and forcefully exhale it through your nose. Don't blow too hard or you could give yourself a headache."

"...What's the purpose?"

"You sneezed so that means you need to get that crud out of your nose so you can breathe easier, and I'm not about to explain to you the human 'fine art' of nose-picking."

"...Disgusting."

"Yeah." Laughing at the comment Hank agreed and motioned with his right hand for Connor to proceed. "Go ahead."

Doing as Hank had told him Connor managed to blow his nose in a somewhat loud and semi embarrassing manner. Feeling his breathing clear up a little and able to take in a deeper breath with only mild difficulty Connor discovered there was a benefit to blowing his nose. "...It seems to help."

"Good. Now, toss that thing in the trashcan and lay back down so you can rest. Also, get ready for that damn green medicine."

Grimacing thickly at the comment Connor laid back and closed his eyes in irritation.

"I know, kid. I know."

While Hank departed from the bedroom yet again Connor tossed the used tissue into the bucket beside his bed and let Sumo rest his chin over his abdomen affectionately. It was as if the massive Saint Bernard knew that Connor's stomach was upset and he needed a little T.L.C. during his time of recovery.

"Here's this." Hank returned to the bedroom with the green medication and handed it over to Connor to take. "And I'll get rid of this." Picking up the used bucket Hank walked into the bathroom to get the bucket washed out again. "When you're finished with the medicine," the senior detective shouted from the bathroom as he turned on the faucet in the bath tub. "go back to sleep! It's the best thing for you."

As much as he despised the Thiricetomal in his grip Connor downed the appropriate dose and put the vile concoction aside as he forced himself to swallow it despite his aching stomach telling him 'no'. "...I hate this."

"A lot of people hate being sick." Placing the now clean bucket down on the floor again Hank readjusted the ice bags over Connor's body and replaced his warmed up washcloth with a fresh cold one in its stead. "Just remember how much you appreciate the ability to breathe, speak and even walk around without feeling like shit after you recover."

Sighing to himself, the foul taste of the medicine still potent on his breath, Connor closed his eyes and put his left hand atop Sumo's ears affectionately. "...I believe that will be an easy request to respect."

Sleeping well into the night and waking up on day three of his flu with his stomach finally calm and his dizziness fading away Connor watched Hank walk pass his opened bedroom door dressed in his usual work clothes ready to begin the day. This time Hank would be reporting to the precinct alone and work behind his desk unless he had a temporary partner assigned to him. As he sat upright and tried to move off the bed Hank suddenly returned to the bedroom and put his hand on Connor's shoulder to coax him into laying back down. It didn't take much for Connor obey the request and lay back on his bed as he still hadn't regained much strength over the past forty-eight hours of being sick.

Making sure Connor was laying flat on his back again Hank handed him the green medicine he pulled from the refrigerator and then pressed his palm over Connor's forehead again to check on his fever.

"...My temperature hasn't risen." Connor remarked as he opened the bottle of medicine and downed the dose with an understandable frown on his face.

"Good. I was just making sure." Taking back the medicine Hank patted Connor's shoulder and then patted the foot of the bed to call Sumo back into the bedroom to lay down. The Saint Bernard had eaten his breakfast and been outside already, which meant he was free to lounge with Connor all day long much to the dog's delight. "Lucas will be here soon. If ya' need me to come back to the house just ask. I have no problem cutting the day short to help you."

"I'm sure I'll be fine with Lucas here."

"Cool. Just don't let him do anything that might make him sick, too."

"I will do my best." Closing his eyes Connor resumed his rest mode and fell silent fairly quickly as his fatigue and taxed processors practically begged him to return to sleep.

"Hang in there, kid. Just a few more days."

Knocking at the front door stole Hank's attention and he made his way back into the livingroom to let the guest inside the house. After greeting Lucas who had his saxophone case clutched in his right hand Hank gave the deviant an update on what Connor's been through and his current condition.

"Try to keep him down in the bed as much as possible. He gets restless sometimes and has a problem with thinking too damn much, but other than that I think you can handle him."

"I'm certain I can." Placing the saxophone case on the floor behind the couch Lucas hung back in the livingroom and watched as Hank walked back down the hallway to see Connor off before leaving for the precinct.

The house was as Lucas had left it two days prior but there were new bottles of Thirium now stocked in the kitchen as well as a few new books that Hank had obviously ordered as a means of keeping Connor distracted while he healed. It was a kind gesture that Lucas appreciated seeing on Connor's behalf as the ill deviant hadn't left the bedroom since he was brought home to rest.

"Alright, Lucas." Walking back through the livingroom Hank grabbed his car keys from the bookshelf and spun them around by the keyring around his fingertip as he approached the front door. Showing no sign of outward worry for Connor's condition it was clear Hank had mastered the art of masking his fears behind confidence for the sake of keeping others calm. "I'll be back around five-thirty this evening. If ya' need to leave early let me know and I'll come back to the house. Connor's sleeping but his temperature hasn't broken yet."

"I will be fine, as will Connor. I'll take care of him."

"Good to hear." Opening the front door Hank stepped outside and gave Lucas an appreciative nod. "Thanks again for your help. It'll make things a hell of a lot easier for all of us."

"I certainly hope so."

The front door clicked shut and Lucas was left with just Connor and Sumo in the house for the rest of the day. Taking his time to walk down the hallway himself Lucas peered into Connor's bedroom and noticed that the deviant had returned to rest mode but wasn't actually resting properly. Approaching the bed Lucas scanned over Connor's vital signs and detected a high stress level due to everything he had been a part of over the past few days. With that high stress level came a high core temperature.

"It's difficult, I know. Resting is hard when one cannot find a sense of inner peace."

Whispering kindly Lucas spoke to Connor in an attempt to be a voice of comfort to the ill deviant. Seeing Connor's core temperature actively attempting to rise prompted Lucas into entering the bathroom to retrieve a cold damp washcloth and place it over Connor's forehead without startling him with his somewhat unknown presence.

Sumo whimpered once as Connor continued to fidget in his sleep as it seemed even the simple task was too much for his mind and body to handle at the moment.

Pressing down the cool washcloth over Connor's forehead Lucas heard the sick deviant mumbling to himself and randomly singing a few lines from songs he had heard over his short lifetime. Remembering what Hank said about music and Connor using it to prevent nightmares Lucas decided to play on his hunch and hustled into the livingroom with a new task in mind.

Opening up his saxophone case Lucas retrieved the shiny brass instrument held tightly as he selected a song to play. Keeping himself in the livingroom to ensure the sudden loud song didn't startle Connor as he struggled to rest Lucas began playing a slow and calm melody while scanning Connor through the walls. After a few seconds Connor began to calm and so Lucas stepped closer to the room while continuing to play the song without missing a note.

It was working. Connor was calming down.

Slowly creeping into the bedroom with the saxophone singing its song Lucas stood with his back against the wall and continued to play to give Connor something comforting to listen to as he began to finally calm down enough to sleep and get the rest he so desperately needed. With his scanner fixed on Connor's person and his fingers seamlessly moving along the instrument to hit every note with perfect rhythm and accuracy Lucas hope the song would be enough to soothe the restless energy building up inside of Connor's exhausted body.

As a favor to Connor at the precinct Hank went up to the dispensary to speak with Joel and let him know what was going on with Connor, and how he was being treated. The dedicated technician was able to update Connor's personnel file and confirm that 'Groupware Blight 2.0' was now very real and needed to be treated like a serious case of the flu in order for the affected deviant to recover properly. Taking diligent notes and acquiring the proper information about Abby as Connor's primary technician Joel made sure it was clear that the sick deviant needed the full week off to heal, and that by disturbing him at home it would only delay his recovery rather than help him heal.

"Is there anything I can do to help him with his coughing fits," Hank asked strictly out of curiosity. "or is that something he needs to put up with until it's out of his system?"

"Well, just like humans needing to get their pulmonary system cleaned out through the act of coughing, deviants need to do the same thing to clear out their ventilation filters when they get gunked up." Speaking from his own personal experiences with treating deviants living on the streets and seeking aid discreetly from sympathetic technicians Joel had endured many cases of deviants suffering from coughing fits long before he was hired onto the precinct. "Since he's on day three of a week long flu it should be clearing up by tonight."

"Good. The poor kid looked like he was going to either suffocate or break a damn rib with all that coughing."

"Aside from all his symptoms causing problems, how well is Connor sleeping?"

"Not very."

"Makes sense." Unfazed by the response Joel just made more notes in the chart without changing the laidback expression on his face as he scribbled away on the tablet. "Deviants suffer in the same way humans do with the flu. Fever, chills, nausea, congestion, coughing, body aches, sleeplessness... It's awful."

Rubbing his left palm along his right bicep Hank swore he still felt the sting of his winter vaccinations raw in his flesh. "Too bad they can't get a flu shot."

"Now that'd be progress in android technical aid. As of now android vaccinations are just a myth and dream at least fifty years away from coming true."

"There's no such thing as android sleeping medication, is there?"

"Nope."

"Damn." Crossing his arms over his chest Hank sighed and tried to think of something he could do to help the deviant out. "Got any suggestions?"

"Uh..." Looking up from the tablet screen Joel's pale blue eyes showcased how confused he was by such an innocent question. "Music works for me."

"Yeah, that does help him with nightmares but not sleeping in general."

"Has he tried watching nature documentaries on low volume? That's something I used for my girlfriend's toddler and it worked every time."

"He doesn't watch much T.V. unless I'm there. Hell, maybe I should get him to lay down on the couch so he can zone-out and rot his brain like the average human does."

"Why not?" Finishing with the chart in his hand Joel had no objections to the strange idea. "Deviants are more human than most humans will ever know, and they're becoming even more human with each passing day. It could damn well work."

Sitting down on the edge of Connor's bed Lucas stopped playing the mini concert after nearly four consecutive hours to let himself recover. Feeling a little winded himself after playing for long without taking a break the deviant focused on checking the reed and scanning over Connor's vital signs without waking up the ill deviant in the process. As he worked Lucas was suddenly aware of Sumo pressing his cold wet nose against his left arm, and trying to rest his chin over his lap. Looking down at Sumo curiously Lucas gently rubbed the dog's ears and was rewarded with happy tail wags in return.

"...Sumo likes you."

Glancing up at Connor and the origin of the statement Lucas gave the groggy deviant an arched brow in response. "He does?"

"...Yes. Hank once said animals are good at judging people." More alert Connor's words were beginning to sound louder and less like he had a delay in his speech. "It seems Sumo approves of you."

"That's... a relief."

"You're very good at playing your saxophone." Blinking slowly Connor struggled to remain awake while exhausted. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. I had hoped it'd help you to sleep and it seems I was correct."

Rolling from his back and onto his left side Connor used his left arm to prop himself upright on the bed and swung his shaking legs over the edge. Leaning forward the somewhat chilly washcloth fell from his forehead and onto the floor beside his bare right foot.

"Connor, lay back down." Not wanting to see Connor exert himself Lucas tried to be reasonable with the sick deviant. "Hank specifically requested that you rest during his absence."

"I will lay down again in a moment." Forcing himself to stand up, forcing his shaking legs to support his weight, Connor awkwardly rounded the bed and practically dragged his feet over the carpet to get to the windowsill where his seedling was growing. Unable to scan the terracotta pot Connor instead pressed his right index fingertip into the soil to ensure it was still damp, and to ensure it was warm by the window. "...I have been unable to tend to my flower as of late, nor can I properly scan it."

"I can do that."

"This is my task, I wish to accomplish it myself."

"Oh. Can I ask why?"

"I... I cannot." Not wanting to talk about the grave hidden at the cabin or of his desire to see life growing from nothingness Connor refrained from divulging that very sensitive information to Lucas. They simply didn't have a strong enough relationship for that type of understanding. "It's just something I need to do."

"Very well."

Standing up from the bed Lucas exited the bedroom and carried his saxophone into the livingroom to return it to the case where it belonged. After clicking the case shut Lucas heard something being placed outside the front door and peered out the front window curiously to find the source of the sound.

It was a mail package.

Opening the door Lucas picked up the package and was surprised by the unexpected weight inside. "...Curious." Reading over the recipient's name Lucas closed the front door and carried it into Connor's bedroom to be delivered to the correct person. "There is a package here for you."

Turning away from the small pot on the windowsill Connor eyed the large square package in Lucas's hands with a strange sense of an error. "I did not order anything."

"Is it a mistake in the address?" Checking the address on the packaging Lucas confirmed that it was at the correct house. "No, no mistake. This is meant to be delivered here."

"Who is it from?"

"It's from the 'Specialized Furnishing Outlet' in Ontario Canada."

"Strange." Making a move to take hold of the package Lucas stepped away from Connor protectively.

"This is quite heavy at fifteen point four pounds, and I'm worried that in your condition the weight could cause you to lose your balance and collapse."

"...Oh." With his yellow L.E.D. flashing in a slow pattern Connor watched as Lucas placed the package down on the bed for him instead. Carefully removing the brown paper exterior of the package Connor was greeted with a large white cardboard box that had been taped up prior to shipping. "This is unusual."

"I agree. Why would a company in Canada send you something you didn't order?"

"Unknown." Removing the tape with shaking fingers Connor pulled open the box and caught sight of a personalized note sitting atop the tissue paper wrapped around the enigmatic item tucked away inside. "There is a message." Picking up the handwritten note Connor finally understood why the package was there and who ordered it. "This is from Abby. It's a gift."

'Connor,

Trust me on the weighted blanket thing. I know you wouldn't order one yourself because you're unwilling to take the chance of looking forward to something good and having it turn out bad, so I ordered you a weighted blanket myself. This is the same one I use and it hasn't let me down. If you don't like it then give it to Hank or Sumo and call it a draw.

-Your friend, Abby.'

"That was generous of her." Lucas commented as he watched Connor put the note side and unfold the tissue paper around the blanket. Tucked away neatly inside the large box was a dark blue fifteen pound weighted blanket that had been recently sewn. "It's an attractive color, too."

"Yes... Very nice." Struggling to pull the comically heavy blanket out of the box Connor allowed Lucas to help him with the object, and proceeded to wrap the blanket around his shoulders as he would with any other blanket. Something about the weight and softness of the blanket made the deviant instantly relax, and with it came the urge to lay down and rest again. "...I think I like this."

"That is good. It can help you to rest easier." Putting the empty box aside Lucas motioned to the bed casually while remaining patient with the stubborn and resilient deviant. "Lay down."

"I will... But I do not wish to remain in here any longer." Having not left his bedroom for three days Connor was beginning to grow weary of his current surroundings. "It feels... stifling."

"Alright, then you should lay down on the couch instead. You'll be in the middle of the house instead of tucked away on the side."

"Yes. Good idea."

Following after Connor as the ill deviant slowly walked out of the bedroom on his trembling legs down the hallway and toward the couch Lucas made sure Connor didn't fall in the process. "You will require your medication in one hour, twenty-three minutes and twenty-nine seconds."

"I'm aware." Sitting down on the couch for only a moment Connor fell to his right side and stretched out his body as he remained wrapped up in the weighted blanket that completely smothered him. Closing his eyes Connor began entering rest mode and with it his body relaxed and his breathing eased slightly. "...I will consume it later."

"Connor?"

Staring at the deviant who had quickly fallen asleep Lucas scanned Connor's vitals and was pleased with his current readings.

"It seems that weighted blanket was indeed a wise choice."

Cybernetically Lucas placed an order for an identical blanket for Gavin and watched with faint amusement as Sumo plodded out of the bedroom and proceeded to hop up onto the couch to cuddle with Connor all over again. It was clear Sumo was very loyal to the deviant and the sight made Lucas feel as though he could have the same sense of loyalty toward Connor and even Hank as well if given enough time and patience.

"Sleep well."

Putting his saxophone aside to keep anyone from tripping over the bulky case Lucas sat down in the recliner and counted down the time until Connor's next dose of medication while he proceeded to mentally perfect the songs he had only recently learned how to play. It was a surprisingly peaceful afternoon that both deviants deserved to enjoy after their unusual beginnings to life just a few months prior.

As the week wore on Connor's symptoms began disappearing one by one. The corrupted software had been repaired and the recalibration process was nearly complete. Now only enduring mild overheating that refused to let up just yet Connor remained on the couch in the blue weighted blanket with Sumo at his side and his bright and clear soulful brown eyes staring at a nature documentary regarding otters to keep his mind preoccupied as he awaited Hank's return from the precinct. No longer needing constant observation Connor was enjoying the peace and quiet of the house, but answered the cybernetic call whenever Lucas decided to check on him or talk for a while.

Feeling relaxed at long last and less like a defective malfunctioning machine Connor was far more cooperative whenever Hank or Lucas tried to get him to finish off the last of the medication, or to sleep. The only time he got up was to let Sumo outside and back inside, but after that he returned to the couch to rest as needed without any complaint.

Barely reacting when the front door opened Connor watched from the corner of his eye as Hank returned home and kicked off his shoes by the front door before hanging up his coat on the hook beside it.

"Hello, Hank."

"Hey, kid." Walking by the couch Hank reached his right hand down over Connor's forehead for the fever check that had become routine over the week, then leaned over the back of the couch to look at Connor directly. The sick deviant's L.E.D. had returned to blue, his complexion had cleared up, he stopped coughing two nights ago, hadn't thrown-up in four days and his fever was barely even a fever anymore as his body finally healed. "You look a hell of a lot better."

"I feel better as well."

"Fowler says you can come back to work in two more days if you're up to it."

"I can do that."

"Good." Reaching his hand down again Hank tugged a little on the blue blanket wrapped around Connor and smirked. "Who knew that the concept of a 'security blanket' could be so literal?"

"Don't ask at me. Ask Abby."

"Ask her? I'm going to thank her! That was a cool move on her part."

"Yes... I will thank her as well." Rolling from his side and onto his back Connor looked up at Hank and gave him a respectful nod. "And you."

"Me?"

"For taking care of me. I'm aware of how much you did to help me recover and how much work you had done during my absence. Thank you."

Letting an appreciative smile flash on his face Hank patted Connor's shoulder and accepted the thanks graciously. "You're welcome, son."

"I will also thank Lucas."

"How's he doing, by the way?"

"He is well. He has confirmed that he is living in an apartment with a roommate and a kitten, and is currently working as a street musician to save up enough money to have a residence of his own."

"Oh yeah? Who's his roommate?" Walking over to the recliner Hank plopped down and happily kicked his feet up on the coffee table. "Anyone we know?"

"He did not say."

"Well, as long as he's safe and off the street, then whatever."

"Apparently Lucas is also looking into a change of career once he gets enough money to acquire his own residence."

"What type of career change?"

"He and I were both designed to be detectives and I suspect he wishes to fulfill his original role but under his own terms, not CyberLife's terms."

"Now that's pretty damn cool." Leaning back in the recliner Hank listlessly watched the otters swimming about on the television screen and let out a weary yawn as he tried to unwind from his hectic day. "Whatever he wants to do we should support it. You know, unless he wants to work as a crash test dummy or a prostitute or some shit."

"A prostitute?"

"Hey, weird shit happens sometimes." Smirking at the sarcastic comment confusing the deviant Hank chuckles again. It was nice to hear Connor reacting to human humor in his usual manner of a near Vulcan-esque misunderstanding. "But I'm serious about supporting Lucas in his career change. Whatever he wants to do is his decision alone."

"Agreed." Returning to his original position on the couch Connor resumed watching the nature documentary and felt entirely at ease for the first time in his young life. There was no pressure to solve a case, no schedule to adhere to and no mission to accomplish. All he needed to do was rest and relax. "I'll do my best support him in the same way you've supported me. It's the least I can do for him."

-next chapter-

Author's Note: Seriously, a weighted blanket is awesome! It helps with my insomnia and I don't toss and turn all night long. I honestly recommend it to anyone suffering from nighttime distress.