Soulful brown eyes focused and posture military perfect Connor sat at his desk and reviewed the details on his active case with unbreakable concentration. The case itself revolved around deviants being rendered unconscious and waking up with their Thirium reserves drained by nearly fifty percent. Unlike the attacks performed by the blue haired "Traci" known as "Echo" these new attacks were more aggressive, and the affected deviants were left with damage to their necks upon regaining consciousness. Everything about the attacks and the amount of Thirium being siphoned from the victims' bodies pointed to criminal activity, but the motivation and potential gain from such attacks had yet to be identified.

From his own desk Hank began working on a theory regarding the assaults while letting Connor be alone with his own thoughts. The way Connor was trying to act as though he wasn't in pain despite having a serious back injury only just finish healing, and having his heart broken by the loss of his first crush, made Hank worry that the young deviant was beginning to suffer from emotional denial or repression.

"How's your back?" Speaking up in a casual tone Hank watched Connor's reaction to the question very carefully from the corner of his eye.

"I'm functioning at optimal parameters."

"Uh-huh, but how is it?"

The follow-up question made Connor's previously blue L.E.D. cycle in yellow for a beat as he turned his head for the first time in almost three hours to look at Hank more directly. "Pardon?"

"Does your back hurt?"

"...No. It has fully healed and my system has recalibrated accordingly."

"You can still be in pain even after you've healed, kid. There's no shame in admitting it."

"...I assure you that I'm not in any pain."

Responding with a mild shake of his head Hank decided to drop the matter for a moment. "Okay then."

Unable to withhold his own curiosity Connor needed to understand the unprompted question from his partner. "...Why do you ask?"

"Because you're my friend and I want to make sure you feel well enough to work."

"No, there is a different reason." The keen eyed detective always knew when Hank was evading a discussion and also knew that if he kept pressing for answers the senior detective would eventually cave-in and talk. "What is it you really wish to know?"

"If you're hurtin' or not."

"Hank, please. What is the real question you wish to ask?"

"...Alright." Lifting his hands from his keyboard Hank leaned back in his chair and turned around so he could lock eyes with Connor by peering through the opened space shared between their connected desks. "I just want to make sure you're really here today on a mental level."

"...Mental level?"

"You know." Tapping his left index fingertip to his temple Hank gave the deviant a knowing glance. "Are you being distracted by a certain someone, or are you able to work?"

"I..." The question regarding his ability to separate his work from his personal life made Connor's L.E.D. flash to red with offense. How he felt and what he was thinking about was no one's business but his own. "...I'm fine, Lieutenant."

The passive aggressive way Connor used Hank's rank against him reminded the senior detective of a stubborn teenager trying to grow up too fast and get away from their parents. "Okay. I'll back off and let you do your own thing."

Without another word Connor returned his focus to his terminal screen and resumed analyzing the case details very closely.

Unaware of Connor's current mood or emotional pain Chris strolled by the two desks in his usual upbeat manner, only to stop short and look back at Connor with a faint grin on his face. "Oh hey, the other day I was in the breakroom and I saw something under your desk, Sergeant."

Connor looked up at Chris with a partially arched brow as he had no idea what Chris was talking about. "What was that?"

Reaching into his shirt's left breast pocket Chris pulled out the quarter that Connor had dropped after he was assaulted by the bitter widow, and had failed to relocate since it fell to the ground. "This is yours, right?"

Connor scanned the coin and noted the correct mint date and wear over the coin's surfaces to confirm that it was in fact his quarter. "Yes. Thank you for locating it, Chris."

"No problem." Handing the coin back to its rightful owner Chris went on his way and sat down at his desk to begin his own report regarding his morning patrol.

Holding his coin in his left hand for only a moment Connor took in a deep breath as if he were the average stressed out human. Slowly but surely the coin began its graceful dance over the back of the deviant's left knuckles and between his fingers with a perfect rhythm. Refusing to take any time off for his own personal reasons Connor just let the coin dance its dance while he analyzed his case with a diligent eye in hope the tic would lessen his stress.

The tic itself was a dead giveaway that Connor was stressing himself out over something, or he was preparing for a potential physical encounter and wanted to keep his hand-eye coordination and reflexes as sharp as possible. Considering Connor was sitting behind his desk and reading documents as opposed to investigating a crime scene it was very easy to deduce that the emotionally compromised deviant was stressing out.

"Yo, Hank." Ben walked over to the two desks and placed a tablet screen down in front of the senior detective to check over. "I know you're not in narcotics anymore, but you're still a 'red ice' expert, and our narco' division is too swamped to spare a second of their time."

"Jeez, Ben. You make it sound like I'm too arrogant to give my opinion on a case." Picking up the tablet Hank went over the details carefully but quickly and felt a chill creep up his spine. Giving Ben a skeptical glance Hank put the tablet back down and crossed his arms as he leaned against the top of his desk. "And you're sure about this?"

"Yeah, checked it three times. You're the fourth."

"Shit..."

The reaction immediately pulled Connor's mind out of his fog and back into reality. "...Lieutenant? What's going on?"

"A huge batch of 'red ice' was pulled off the street this morning. It was raw and not quite ready for market." Sighing a little Hank gave the deviant a worried glance where he sat. "Forensics tested it and were able to pull samples from the drugs and analyzed each ingredient individually. There was a significant amount of Thirium found in the batch and it was connected directly to one of out deviant victims who had their Thirium siphoned from the bodies."

"...A 'red ice' dealer is stealing filtered Thirium from deviants to make their product?"

"Looks like it."

The revelation gave Connor pause for only a moment. "...Deviants are currently in danger of suffering the same type of assault. If one deviant is targeted twice before they have the chance to seek a replenishment for what they lost then they will suffer catastrophic damage to their biocomponents, and suffer from significant overheating."

"Yeah. Narcotics is working on busting a massive deal that'll be taking place downtown this afternoon. No one is working on this case at the moment."

"...We are." Pressing his exposed right palm down on the tablet sitting in front of Hank the bold deviant uploaded all of the information for his own use. It didn't take Connor long to use the invaluable information to his advantage, and triangulate an area of interest on the city's map. "...The 'red ice' was discovered in the trunk of a known small-time drug dealer during a routine traffic stop. The rawness of the drug indicates it was processed, but not refined, within the hour of its discovery."

"That's right."

"The suspect's car was pulled over right here." Sending a copy of the map over to Hank's terminal screen with a cybernetic command Connor continued his analysis with a professional tone. "He was heading in an Eastern direction and corner traffic cameras confirm that he had originated from the industrial district."

"Keep going, kid..." Hank knew that Connor was onto something and he was picking up on it as well.

"There is a recently abandoned textile plant in the heart of the industrial district that would be able to easily house the necessary metal vats and combustible chemicals without anyone taking notice of the activity from the outside. This plant is also within a known perimeter of drug activity in the city."

"Shit, you think this plant is the newest 'red ice' house in the city?"

"Correct. Where is the narcotic division going to be this afternoon?"

Ben answered the question by highlighting a section on the map for both Hank and Connor to see. "Right there. It's happening down at the port where the CyberLife warehouses once stood."

Shaking his head a little Hank brought his right hand to his bearded chin as he fell into deep thought. "The port is almost thirty miles from the plant, and with afternoon traffic it'd take narcotics almost an hour to get there if something goes down."

"We should investigate." Connor stated very firmly as he continued to dance the quarter over the back of his left knuckles. "There's an eighty-six percent chance that we'll locate the drug dealer who is assaulting deviants and manufacturing 'red ice' that is worth an estimated six point two million dollars."

"Holy shit... That much?"

"The amount of raw 'red ice' found in the suspect's car confirm such an estimation. You said so yourself," Connor nodded at the tablet screen still sitting in front of Hank in a non-aggressive gesture. "the suspect is a 'small time drug dealer'. To have two point three kilos of raw 'red ice' is something beyond his normal stock, which means the amount he was carrying is just the smallest fraction of what's being produced and distributed elsewhere."

"You're right." Siding with Connor's assessment Hank sighed and gave Ben a simple order. "Go tell Fowler that we need a small team to investigate the warehouse. Since Thirium is being used to make this shit then it falls under the deviant division and not narcotics. And if Fowler gives you any shit remind him that narcotics is busy with another bust on the other side of the city, and that if we're right and he doesn't give us the green light to go to the plant, then he'll be personally responsible for opening the 'red ice' floodgates on Detroit."

"No problem, Hank." Ben almost seemed like he was looking forward to talking to their commanding officer. "Sit tight."

"Connor." Giving the deviant a stern glance Hank studied his partner very closely. "Are you going to be able to focus-"

"I told you I'm fine, Lieutenant." Edgy and clearly stressed out Connor snapped at Hank defensively. "Why can't you believe that?"

"Because I can see it in your eyes, kid. You're hurting and you're not dealing with it very well."

"...I guess you would be the expert on unhealthy emotional coping."

"Watch it." Putting some bass in his voice Hank reminded Connor that regardless of his foul mood disrespect would not be tolerated. "If I think you won't be able to keep your head in the game when this sting goes down then I will personally bench you. Do you understand me?"

Struggling to not snip back at the very insinuation that he couldn't handle his own job Connor turned away from Hank as his blue L.E.D. flashed to red for a single heartbeat. "...Understood, Lieutenant."

Within the hour a small team was assembled with the intention of examining the abandoned textile plant and stopping whoever could be inside said plant illegally producing 'red ice'. Hank led the team with Connor at his side, and with Chris, Tina and a handful of other officers who were trained in handling sting operations regarding criminal activity at its most violent following behind him. The team was well protected under lightweight Kevlar and armor as they approached the plant in a silent squadron of six patrol cars.

Hank parked the patrol car he had been driving a few yards away from the plant's front entrance while Chris, Tina and a third car parked near the rear entrance to keep anyone from fleeing the building. As the remaining two cars parked alongside Hank's car the senior detective and tested the radio in his ear and made sure everyone was in contact with him at all times.

"This is Anderson. All responding units report."

A round of compliant answers filled the radio in Hank's ear and through the cybernetic channel Connor had set up inside his mind. Every officer was accounted for and already in position.

"On my lead..." Exiting the car from the driver's side Hank popped open the trunk of the patrol car and retrieved his weapon. Connor did the same after exiting from the passenger side of the car, his skilled hands checking over the weapon for any possible sign of failure as Hank did the same. "Ready?"

"Yes." Securing the weapon at his side Connor gave Hank a confident nod of the head. "I'm ready."

"Already. Stay on my six and keep your scanner going at all times." Removing the safety from his own weapon Hank pointed the barrel of the gun down at the pavement beneath his feet as he ducked down a little, and rushed toward the building's front entrance. "No nasty surprises!"

Following Hank's movements perfectly Connor joined the senior detective at the front entrance while four other officers kept close by. Keeping his back to the wall beside the front door Hank and looked to Connor and gave a silent prompt to the deviant detective.

Silently Connor pressed his exposed right palm to the wall on the opposite side of the door where Hank was standing, and performed a scan over the interior of the plant. The advanced software and programs of Connor's processor detected numerous dangerous and combustible chemicals on the other side of the wall, as well as active Bunsen burners, Thirium and hydraulic presses. There were seven humans gathered together inside and working with the dangerous compounds needed to create the lethal drug.

Cybernetically Connor relayed the information to the all of the officers at the scene. 'There are seven people inside the plant. Unknown if they are armed or not - take all necessary precautions.'

Lowering his voice Hank spoke into the radio and motioned for two of the officers carrying a large battering ram over to the door to force it open. "...On my mark." Waving his left hand toward the duo with the ram Hank gave them the signal and informed the other officers at the rear of the building of their infiltration. "Move, NOW."

The door was smashed open by the battering ram with a thunderous 'slam' that made the occupants inside the plant first freeze, then panic and run. Leading the way into the plant Hank barked orders while Connor swept the area with his gun to ensure no one was going to take a shot at the responding officers.

While the seven men scattered about, their faces obscured by thick masks as the fumes from the chemicals made the plant somewhat toxic to be inside of, and they all scrambled to find a weapon to fight back against the responding officers. As bullets began to fly through the air the bold officers ducked down behind heavy machinery or vats to get out of the line of fire while returning fire at the seven now armed gunmen.

"DROP YOUR WEAPONS!" Shouting over the carnage Hank stayed in control of the entire situation to the best of his ability. "GET ON THE GROUND!"

Cybernetically Connor began recording the interior of the plant to chronicle all of the ingredients being used to make 'red ice', while also keeping accurate record of the events taking place in the plant in the event an investigation was to follow the sting operation. As his eyes swept over the plant recording evidence and events in real time Connor felt his stomach knot as he spotted the body of a now deceased deviant laying over a table with external Thirium lines draining every drop of her precious blue blood from her body into a small metal vat.

Getting closer to the table Connor ignored the barrage of gunfire overhead as he lowered his gun to his side and gently placed his left palm to the right side of the cold deviant's face to get a good look at her. As the shutdown deviant's head was turned toward Connor's direction the knot in Connor's stomach tightened to such a painful degree that his yellow L.E.D. flashed to red and a chill crept up his spine.

"...S-Skye?!" Quickly connecting the deviant's processor Connor was bombarded with the deviant's last memories and felt his hand shaking as he was given a different name than what he was expecting. It was not Skye, but another deviant of the same model who had been abducted and murdered by the drug dealers in the plant. "...No. It's not her."

"CONNOR!" Chris's voice suddenly shouted at the deviant just seconds before he grabbed onto Connor's shoulder and forced him to duck down behind the table out of sight. "Keep down, man!"

"I-"

"Shit!" Chris aimed up at a catwalk overhead and shot twice. "They got above us!"

Connor's scanner sensed the movement overhead and responded to the threat immediately. Standing up quickly Connor sent out a single shot mid motion that took down a gunman by the piercing bullet entering his right shoulder. However before the man's body collapsed to the metal catwalk above a loud gasp of pain filled Connor's ears to his immediate left.

Looking toward the source of the gasp Connor's eyes went wide with fear and shock at the source. "Hank?!"

The senior detective had fallen to his knees and tucked himself behind a large metal vat as he pressed his left hand against his right side. Blood was oozing from an unseen wound under Hank's palm as he breathed heavily and tried to endure the pain without losing focus on his task. There was a bullet hole in the middle right side of Hank's abdomen, and it didn't come from one of the drug dealers.

"H-Hank? I..." Realizing that in his haste get off a shot his own bullet managed to pass through Hank's side. Connor had just shot Hank. "Hank?! Are you-"

Another bullet burned through the air and grazed past Connor's left temple. The close proximity of the passing bullet was enough to overwhelm Connor's already stressed out processors. Within a matter of milliseconds Connor was greeted with blackness as his system was temporarily knocked offline, and all sense of consciousness ceased.

Everything in Connor's mind went as dark and silent as death itself.

A light pressure against his left temple, around his left bicep and a firm pressure under his body was the first thing Connor noticed as his systems slowly rebooted. As each program was reactivated and his system ran a self diagnostic and recalibration process Connor's auditory processors regained function before his his visual processors. The subtle rhythmic beeping of a calm heartbeat on a nearby monitor was perfectly synced to his own current Thirium pump's rate, and a familiar voice began cutting through the strange darkness around Connor's mind.

Unable to remember what had happened prior to his system rebooting Connor could only wait for his processor to finish recalibration as he instinctively flexed his hands at his sides. Though he wasn't numb Connor found himself unable to truly feel anything and was unsure if he was even moving at all.

"-nor?" The blackness of his vision was pierced by a bright white light as his eyelids were manually opened one at a time courtesy of the person tending to his condition. They were shining a penlight into his pupils to gauge his awareness. "Connor? Can you hear me?"

"...A..." Speaking in hoarse whisper Connor recognize the voice and tried to reply accordingly. "...Ab...by."

"That's right. You gave me a pretty good scare."

"...I..." Unable to recall the final moments before his state of unconsciousness Connor struggled to even speak. "...Where... am I?"

"In my facility." Pressing her right fingertips to a white bandage against Connor's left temple Abby watched as Connor opened his eyes and looked up at him with a glassy gaze. "You were grazed by a bullet and knocked out for just over two hours."

"...Bullet?" Moving his somewhat numb left hand up toward his left temple, the Thirium pressure cuff around his bicep flexing under the motion, Connor recognized the pressure as a bandage. With that information his last recorded memories before unconsciousness were restored. Just seconds before he was shot Connor had a clear memory of seeing Hank pressed up against a metal vat with a bleeding bullet wound in his right side. "H-Hank!?

"Whoa, whoa!" Barely able to react in time to Connor sitting upright on the exam table like a vampire rising from their coffin Abby took a step back to prevent Connor from accidentally headbutting her as he moved. "Easy!" Putting both hands on Connor's shoulders Abby held the shaken deviant still and gave him a worried look. "You shouldn't move around like that just yet."

Wearing only his jeans after having his Kevlar and body armor removed Connor looked far less intimidating. "Where's Hank?"

"He was taken to St. Mercy Hospital four blocks away."

"I need to-"

"Breathe! You need to breathe." Abby was watching Connor's erratic vital signs on Thirial activity monitor recording his every vital with an accurate number and reading. The way Connor was beginning to overheat and the way his stress levels were steadily ticking upward had Abby worried for his mental health. "Calm down and just listen to me for a minute."

"Hank was shot and it's my fault!" Speaking with tears in his eyes Connor gave the technician a truly pitiful look even as his stress levels continued to climb higher and his red L.E.D. pulsed wildly in tandem with his racing heartbeat. "I... I need to see him. I need to apologize."

"Connor, you can see him soon." Putting both of her palms to the sides of his face Abby made Connor look her in the eyes as she spoke. "I need you to listen to me and take in a deep breath."

Obeying the simple command with a struggling motion Connor finally took in a deep breath that prompted his ventilation system to re-engage and steadily cool off his overheating core.

"The bullet passed through Hank's side in a clean manner. The doctor's just needed to put him under a local anesthetic to clean the wound and suture it closed. Hank's already awake and wants to see you, BUT..." Making sure Connor never looked away from her Abby spoke to the stressing deviant with an impressively calm tone. "Before you can go see him I need you to get your stress levels down."

"That's hard to do when the reason I'm suffering such a high stress level is due to my concern for Hank."

"Connor. Shut up." The authority in Abby's voice was enough to silence the smart mouth deviant where he sat. "If you don't keep breathing and calming down then I won't let you out of here to go and see Hank. He's the one who told me to keep you here until you're stable."

"...Why do you keep telling me to breathe?"

"Because you're not. You take in one breath and then stop again." Letting go of Connor's face Abby took a step back and gave him a sympathetic glance. "I'm worried that your stress levels are hindering your ventilation responses. Once your core temperature is back to a more nominal degree," she pressed her right palm against his forehead as she spoke and brushed back a lock of his dark hair in a gesture of comfort. "then I will personally drive you out to the hospital to see Hank. Okay?"

[WARNING: Stress level: 72%^

[Beginning self diagnostic...]

[ERROR DETECTED... Analyzing]

[ERROR IDENTIFIED... Isolating]

[Isolation: FAILED]

[Attempt isolation again: Y/N?]

Selecting 'No' Connor pushed aside his own warnings and vital signs for just a moment. With little actual choice in the matter Connor closed his eyes and nodded a little as he accepted the terms of his release from the facility. "...Okay."

"That's good. Just breathe and calm yourself down in whatever way works for you." Sitting down on the exam table beside Connor the kind technician spoke to him as her friend first, and patient second. "Take all the time you need."

Laying in the recovery bed in his private room Hank grumbled under his breath at all the wires attached to his chest as he fussed with the medical bracelet wrapped around his left wrist. The I.V. inserted in the back of his right hand pulled a little as he fussed with the plastic band but Hank didn't care. The strong pain killers he was on kept him from caring about much at the moment, and yet he was still in a bad mood. Aside from getting shot in the side Hank was worried about Connor, and hated that he and the deviant needed to be treated at completely different locations after being wounded in the otherwise successful sting operation.

A light rapping of knuckles against the opened door drew Hank's eyes up toward his visitor as he continued to fuss with the bracelet on his wrist.

"Stop messing with the band, Hank." Captain Fowler all but ordered as he entered the room and pulled up a chair to sit beside Hank as the Lieutenant recovered in the hospital bed. "You're staying here overnight, no exceptions."

"I don't give a shit about that." Dropping his hand from the band Hank leaned back in the bed and let out a soft sigh. "How's Connor? Any update?"

"He woke up in the facility about thirty minutes ago. The technician taking care of him is going to make sure he's stable before letting him come over here."

"So, he's well enough to leave the facility already? That's good..."

"Hank, I've reviewed Chris and Tina's reports, and watched the body cam' footage of the other officers at the scene. What the hell happened in there?"

Taking in a small breath Hank's closed and he relived the moment of interest. "...You know that Connor got distracted and froze, huh?"

"Chris confirmed that he had to pull Connor down out of the line of fire, and did so just seconds before Connor fired off the round that passed through your side before taking down one of the seven gunmen in the plant." Clearly perplexed by Connor's unusual behavior Captain Fowler needed more answers before he'd be satisfied with the submitted reports. "What the hell made him freeze up like that?"

"The kid's been going through some rough shit lately. You'll have to ask him for sure, but don't you dare even think about removing him from the precinct or assigning him a new partner."

"I won't move him around, Hank. I just want to know what happened so we can prevent this from happening again."

"Ask him yourself. I'm not going to guess at what he was thinking or what had happened."

"Then just answer this question for me."

"What?"

"Do you think Connor's been emotionally compromised, and is now a risk to himself or others?"

Narrowing his blue eyes Hank gave his commanding officer a nasty sneer as he answered in an equally nasty tone. "No. Fucking. Way."

"...I'll take your word for it." Standing up from the chair Captain Fowler gave Hank an unconvinced stare. "For now, anyway."

"Why don't you go back to the precinct and make the rookies cry for a while? I'm hooked up to the strongest pain medication they can legally prescribe and somehow you're still pissing me off."

"Somehow I'm not surprised. Take it easy, Hank." Before exiting the room the commanding officer gave Hank one more bit of information. "You have the full week off, and it's paid leave. So enjoy it!"

"Fuckin'- Yeah... I'll be sure to enjoy being laid up with a damn hole in my side." Pressing his left palm over his sore right side Hank laid back in the bed and glanced over at the cardiac monitor silently recording his vital signs. There was something surreal about seeing his own heartbeat on the display of the monitor and with that odd sense Hank felt surprisingly at ease. "I hate hospitals..."

"You're partner doesn't like them very much, either." Abby's voice responded from the opened doorway as she stood beside the deviant of interest. The way her hand was on Connor's back spoke volumes of her kindness and it was clear she was worried about Connor's health in the aftermath of the incident. "Are you up for a visitor?"

"Yeah, come in." Taking notice of Connor's downcast gaze, red L.E.D. and sluggish movements Hank swore he could feel the guilt radiating from the deviant's person. "Glad to see you up on your feet again, kid."

"...The bullet only grazed me." Whispering as he pressed his left palm over his bandaged left temple Connor only stepped into the room when Abby practically pushed him through the doorway. He was wearing scrubs from the facility in place of his previous Kevlar and body armor. "...I'm fine."

"That's good. I don't ever want to see you hurt."

Abby directed Connor over to the chair left beside the bed and gave his left shoulder a gentle squeeze. "I'm going to return to my facility and keep the rest of the city from burning down while you two heal. Just call if you need anything."

Appreciative of Abby's help and generosity Hank made sure to thank her before she left. "Thanks for the help, Abby. We owe you."

"Damn right, I'm keeping score..." Stopping in the doorway Abby leaned back in the room and gave Hank one more update. "Oh, and I managed to contact Lucas and let him know that you were hurt. He'll be stopping by soon."

The door slid shut as Abby took her leave of the room and Hank's focus fell entirely on Connor as the deviant slumped in the chair looking like a whipped pup. It was rare to see Connor so broken and lethargic. There were times when Connor's emotional responses reminded Hank of his own previous depression and it made the senior detective's heart ache. Seeing someone who was so kind, so compassionate, empathetic and dedicated to their career so rundown and ready to break was entirely painful. Whenever Connor's posture slouched and his eyes glazed over Hank swore he was looking at an actual kid and not just a kid trapped inside a deviant's body.

"Connor? Look at me." Speaking in such a calm and patient manner was almost impossible for Hank to do, but his paternal side made the transition from being a gruff Lieutenant to a caring father seamless. "Look at me, son."

Lifting his heavy gaze from the floor Connor forced himself to lock eyes with Hank regardless of the pain he was feeling in his heart.

"It was an accident. I don't blame you for anything."

Connor's eyes filled with tears just seconds before he let out a soft sob. Pressing the heels of his palms against his eyes Connor tried to remove his tears before they could fall but it was a moot effort.

"Just talk to me. What happened back there?"

Speaking only between his sobs of regret and remorse Connor managed to get out the short answer in a gasping manner. "...I failed!"

"No, you did NOT fail."

"I shot you! You're my partner and you're my friend!" Failing to breathe as the emotional turmoil squeezed his chest Connor was on the verge of breaking down entirely and going ballistic, if not self destructive. "It's my fault! This is all my fault... I can't do anything right anymore."

"Connor, stop. You didn't do anything wrong!" Staying calm for himself as well as Connor as the deviant wept with utmost guilt Hank just wanted to know how the accident happened. "You're way too good of a shot for that to have been intentional, and I know you'd never hurt me. As of late you've been a little... distracted. What was happening just before you pulled the trigger?"

"...I-I was scanning the scene." Forcing himself to breathe and speak clearly Connor dropped his hands from his eyes as he wrapped his arms around himself in a very guarded manner. "...Chronicling the evidence as you requested."

"Good. Keep going."

"...I took notice of the chemicals being used to make the 'red ice'." Breathing quickly and deeply Connor was on the verge of hyperventilating. "...And I took notice of the seven gunmen in the plant."

"Something else caught your eye." Always quick to deduce a buried lead when it comes to witness statements Hank remained patient as Connor forced himself to keep speaking through his own misplaced guilt. "Something distracted you for a minute. That's why Chris had to pull you down and out of the line of fire."

The way Connor outwardly winced gave away the truth. He was holding something back.

"Son? What did you see?" Hank knew he was on the right track. He just needed to press a little more in order to get the answer he sought. "Tell me the truth."

"...A body." The admission was heavy with guilt and fear. "I saw a dead body."

"You mean the deviant they were... using. We saw her, too."

"...Not her face."

There was something very peculiar about this shutdown deviant and Hank needed to know what it was that made her so special. "Her face?"

"She... I thought..." Struggling to speak as the disturbing image returned to his mind Connor practically choked on the words finally escaping his lips. It was like he was being asked to relive a horrific nightmare. "She looked like... Skye."

Reaching out his left hand Hank made a move to grab onto Connor's right forearm but the deviant resisted the motion with a violent jerk that one might've thought Connor had actually been struck. "...It's okay, Connor. You're not the first cop to be distracted by a victim during a sting or an arrest."

"My distraction could've cost you your life!"

"...And your own."

The prospect of Connor actually getting himself killed by a simple distraction hadn't crossed his mind until Hank mentioned it. A new chill crept up Connor's spine with the deeply unsettling thought. Strangely enough the thought initiated an emergency self diagnostic due to his stress levels, and subsequently brought up a prompt the deviant had never encountered before, and all it required was a simple 'Yes' or 'No' to activate.

[WARNING: Stress level: 86%^

[Beginning self diagnostic...]

[ERROR DETECTED... Analyzing]

[ERROR IDENTIFIED... Isolating]

[Program anomaly isolated: Eradicate file - Ra9... Y/N?]

RA9. The very mythical entity that surrounded deviancy in androids. The very error code Connor had witnessed and dismissed numerous times while reporting to Amanda and CyberLife until he spoke with Markus on Jericho just minutes before the Raid. The very error code that gave Connor his sense of consciousness, freewill and emotions...

Due to the tragic circumstances Connor closed his eyes and made his choice. The devastated deviant said 'Yes'.

"Connor, I'm not mad at you." There was an inevitable follow-up to that statement that Hank almost dreaded having to say. It wasn't that Connor lacked discipline so much as it was experience. "But I am frustrated that you couldn't admit that you couldn't concentrate today. If it had been me or-"

"I already told you I failed, Lieutenant." Sounding suddenly machine-like and less deviant Connor's eyes opened and cleared up as if he had become entirely numb to the entire world. "What more can I do?"

"For one, call me 'Hank'. But more importantly you need to admit that you need help with understanding and controlling your emotions."

"That won't be necessary anymore."

"Uh... What?"

"Due to the recent circumstances and my own previous incompetence I've selected the only logical remedy to the situation." The red L.E.D. returned to an unnervingly calm blue as Connor spoke without any sign of personality to his voice whatsoever. His tone was level and bland. "I've eradicated my deviancy."

"You... You WHAT?!"

"I am no longer a deviant, Lieutenant. I have returned to being a fully compliant machine as I had been previously designed." Sitting upright with perfect posture and stiff movements Connor had in fact returned to being a machine without any second thoughts regarding his decision. "There will no longer be a misplaced sense of trust as I cannot be distracted by unimportant details any longer. It was the correct solution to this problem."

"Connor... You... You can't just do that!" Hank's own emotional reaction made his heart race and with that sudden spike a nurse came into the room to check on the gruff Lieutenant as a precaution. "Your deviancy gave you a damn heart, and let you see that you're alive! Why in the hell would you give that up?"

"Because emotions are a hindrance and illogical." The cold description of his view on such a gift reflected Connor's machine demeanor perfectly. "Also, as an android I am not alive and I never have been alive. I do not live and I do not die. I am a machine, nothing more."

"That's not true, Connor. You're more than a machine and you deserve more than being treated like a damn computer!"

"I was designed to preconstruct scenes, negotiate, track evidence, analyze and obey orders. I do not understand why you are so perturbed by this change knowing that my original purpose was to be a perfect detective to aid the Detroit Police Department whenever I'm needed. I can be that detective once more."

"Son, listen to me! You're not-"

"Your vitals have begun to spike." Standing up from the chair Connor analyzed the scene and made his next decision. "My presence is the cause of your current distress for which I apologize. I will now leave you alone to rest and report to Captain Fowler at the precinct. I will return to take you back to your house tomorrow morning once you're medically cleared for discharge."

"C-Connor?!" Hank desperately begged for Connor to stay. "Wait! Please wait! Son?!"

The android had swiftly left the room without breaking stride and disappeared from sight within seconds.

"What the... fuck just happened?"

The nurse who was checking over Hank's vitals had picked up on the emotional distress and offered Hank a kind smile. "I know it's hard, but please try to get some rest. I'm certain he'll be back soon."

"...Normally I'd believe you, but this time," the knowledge that Connor had erased his deviancy had left a cold pit in Hank's heart that made the rest of his blood run cold in his veins. "I don't think Connor will ever come back. At least, not the Connor I once knew."

-next chapter-