Detroit as a whole had slowly returned to normal since the Revolution seven months prior as everyone steadily healed and learned to peacefully coexist with one another. With the removal of a lethal "red ice" flood from the streets driving numerous drug dealers away, and the high profile bust easily deterring anyone from attempting to take the metaphorical vacated throne of "Drug Kingpin", crime in general seemed to be slowing down to a near halt. The top story was still revolving around the now late Carl Manfred and his legacy even a week after his funeral, and the story regarding the "red ice" taken off the street was pushed to the back burner for the moment.

Markus had retreated to the mansion to mourn in private while Simon and Josh continued to keep New Jericho Tower operational. North contemplated staying longer for Markus's sake, but in the end she knew the refugees seeking help were more important at the moment. After saying 'goodbye' to Markus at the mansion and then stopping by the tower North went to the Epsilon Facility where Skye had been given her new updates and upgrades from Dr. Hetfield to allow herself to share more human experiences.

Exiting the facility feeling a little lightheaded but otherwise stable Skye contacted Connor to let her know that she had successfully undergone the upgrades and would be leaving Detroit with North to return to the refugee camps outside the city. Receiving the message cybernetically Connor acknowledged it all the while checking in on Abby for a moment before he and Hank went to the precinct to begin their morning shift.

"When do you think you'll be ready to return to work, Abby?" Noting her steady recovery and overall good spirits Connor was curious as to how she'd respond to returning to work after the freak accident that nearly took her life. "The Zeta Facility isn't ready to reopen but I know that you could volunteer at... New Jericho Tower," reluctant to acknowledge the sanctuary due to his own personal bias Connor had to force the words out of his mouth. "to assist the refugees that Skye and North are escorting to safety."

"I think I'm going to stay here for another week and try to do some research on that fancy new update. It's a massive one and deviants have only just begun to download it for their own personal use." Sipping at her coffee to keep a headache at bay Abby reassured Connor that she'd be returning to work the moment she was ready. "I'd rather return to my facility already aware of the little changes in android programming instead of getting a nasty awakening."

"That is logical."

"Are you going to get the update?"

Shaking his head a little Connor's blue L.E.D. cycled in yellow as he briefly considered the question. "...I'm not sure."

"Don't do it unless you ARE sure. It's your body and your choice, don't cave to social pressure to be 'more human' by a bunch of humans who have no idea what it's like to be a deviant."

"I'll remember that."

"Go to work and keep the city safe. I'll be fine by myself now that I've made it a week without passing out or slipping into a coma."

"Yes, of course. Have a nice day."

"You do the same, Connor."

Smirking at the sight of the deviant exiting her house through the front door to meet Hank out in the car parked along the street Abby carried her coffee back into her livingroom to place on the table, before she opened up her laptop to resume her work. Dedicated to her career and protective of those she considers her friends Abby was getting restless, and was evidently eager to go back to work.

"Let's see if I can remember these new updates now that my ears aren't ringing and my head isn't hurting..."

As the day went by calmly with little incident Connor finished interrogating an arrested suspect who had tried to break into a delivery truck at one of the Digital Sentience stores in town, and Hank attended a meeting regarding the small and short lived task force he led in regard to the deviant abduction and the "devil's kiss" pandemic. The media decided that since the officers and detectives weren't in the mood to gossip about their cases or other drug dealers in the city, that they were better off wasting their time stalking friends and colleagues of the late Carl Manfred.

Exiting the interrogation room with a successful interview on his electronic tablet Connor returned to his desk to begin filing his new report. Placing the tablet down on the right corner of his desk Connor glanced at the revived bonsai tree on the left corner, and wondered how the flower planted at his own grave was fairing. Running his left index finger over the top of the green lush plant Connor noted it needed a small amount of water and made a mental note to water the plant before he left the precinct for the night.

Pressing his left palm to the surface of his terminal screen Connor cybernetically connected to the device and began uploading his report.

"Good job on the interrogation, Connor." Captain Fowler approached the desk with his own tablet in his hand. The transcript of the interrogation was already at the commanding officer's disposal. The report had been promptly filed as per usual regarding Connor's dedication to detail and procedure. "We'll send out patrol to pick up his allies and confiscate the stolen goods from their little hideout."

"Thank you, Captain."

"Hank's going to be in that meeting for at least another three hours. Go ahead and take your break without him."

"...Without him?"

"I know you don't eat or need to take piss breaks, but you still have the right to an hour free every afternoon to do whatever you want."

"I see."

"Just do me one favor while you're out."

Curious about the request Connor gave his commanding officer his full attention before he even considered leaving the precinct. "What's that?"

"Make sure there's some kind of food available for Hank when the meeting's over. He's losing his patience with the higher-ups wanting to make sure their asses are completely covered, and if he skips lunch he's liable to burn the whole building down."

"Of course. I'll order him a meal while I'm on break."

"Thanks. Good work again, Sergeant." Taking his leave of the bullpen to return to his private office Captain Fowler went about his own business while trusting his officers and detectives to do the same.

Nodding in humble appreciation Connor contemplated what he should do for his break and glanced about the bullpen as if seeking inspiration. Watching Chris carry in a bag of Chinese takeout over to Ben's desk to share made the deviant cycle through various restaurants in search of Hank's own meal, whereas seeing Tina cleaning up her workspace while Gavin was busy texting - no doubt chatting with Aaron, made Connor put together a list of priorities to handle before leaving for his break.

"I can wait a while longer for my break."

Returning his focus to the terminal screen before himself Connor took notice of one of the security androids from the parking garage heading toward Captain Fowler's office with her own report to give him. The way the deviant moved so rigidly with her posture being military perfect, her face a blank expression of professionalism and her uniform immaculately pressed, made Connor reflect on his own personality and appearance.

Despite being a deviant Connor had chosen to remain a detective, chosen to wear more professional attire compared to his colleagues, chosen to keep his L.E.D. and he chose to keep his emotions as restrained as possible. Beyond just the title there was practically nothing to distinguish Connor as a free thinking, feeling and free willed deviant, compared to mindless, cold and obedient androids.

Keeping his eye on the security android Connor discreetly observed her very machine-like behavior and wondered if she had even deviated at all. There was no sign of life or soul behind her blue eyes, nor any sign of a conscious thought as she walked a completely straightforward and routine path to return to the neighboring parking garage.

"...Am I also so reserved and emotionless that I also appear to still be a machine?"

Remembering Skye's words and of her desires to truly feel everything so she could appreciate what it meant to be alive Connor slowly dragged his fingertips over the bonsai tree in a curious manner. He knew the foliage was cool, soft and brimming with life under his touch, yet he couldn't really feel how cool the plant was, he couldn't feel how soft the leaves were, and he couldn't feel the life coursing through the revived plant under his care.

Beyond just the textures touching his artificial skin and the temperature of the air, Connor realized he couldn't really feel anything...

Closing his soulful brown eyes Connor cybernetically reached out for confirmation as he rose from his desk, clocked-out and made his final decision.

'Skye, if I may ask...' Stepping through the front doors of the precinct and onto the sidewalk Connor cybernetically put in a few sets of G.P.S. coordinates and made his way over to the neighboring parking garage to take his leave. 'How long did the upgrade procedure take?'

Diligently handling the process of founding a brand new division in his precinct Lucas worked alongside Noreen to make sure everything that came their way was handled appropriately as long as it fell under deviant jurisdiction, and made sure that no deviant case was being overlooked by another officer or detective who didn't believe the case to be of significance. Proud of his work, albeit unorthodox considering his abduction had led to the founding of the division, Lucas began sorting through deviant related cases in his jurisdiction, while Noreen made sure that she and Lucas were the ones being answered to in regard to deviant investigations.

Dedicating their entire morning to getting the division up and running as smoothly as possible Lucas eagerly checked over the official technician who was being assigned to the precinct, and made sure she was being given all the supplies necessary to get her dispensary in the precinct basement functional. A young technician with a master's degree in bio-engineering and a bachelor's degree in bio-technology, Dr. Michaela Gayle was a promising force to be reckoned with when it came to the welfare and functionality of any and all deviants in her care.

The young doctor was in her mid twenties, shorter than average and very tiny with a petite figure. With long blond hair she kept pulled back in a neat braid and bright blue eyes that seemed all the brighter against her sun-kissed complexion, the technician looked like she was still a student and not a graduate. Based on the information in her profile the brilliant young technician had come from virtually nothing after her parents were killed in a house fire when she was five, and she was then bounced around the foster care system until she aged out. Focused on her education and future Michaela thrived and beat all the odds when she earned a full ride scholarship to the University of Michigan, and graduated at the top of her class in 2037.

"Have you met Dr. Gayle, yet?" Glancing at the technician's profile on his terminal screen Lucas focused on the new technician while Noreen enjoyed her lunch with an almost relieved manner. They had been working hard and picking up all the available overtime possible so they could get the deviant division functional as soon as possible, and Noreen had been missing a few hours of sleep due to her dedication. "She seems to be new to her field, but shows great promise."

"Nope." Popping a particularly greasy french fry into her mouth Noreen wiped off her hands and focused on the final sips of her iced coffee. "Then again, I haven't met our on-call medics up in the infirmary, either."

"That's a good thing, I imagine."

"Are you willing to trust a 'noob' with your life if you get hurt?"

"Everyone's new at some point in their career. I'm a rookie myself."

"Glad you're so open minded and understanding." Finishing off her drink that was now mostly melted ice and less coffee Noreen tossed her empty cup into the bin under her desk and used some hand sanitizer to get the linger grease off her fingertips. "It's amazing how many people seem to forget that we all start out as rookies and that we never really stop learning."

"I suppose that's arrogance clouding logic."

"That makes sense to me. It's hard to believe so many deviants actually want to be more human than they are."

Intrigued by Noreen's statement Lucas gave her his full attention. "Due to negative emotions and personality traits?"

"Yeah. Not to mention the fact that humans get sick, get worn out, age, take weeks if not months to heal after getting injured, we have virtually no control over our emotions, AND we're as arrogant as they come."

"I believe it's worth the exploration to better understand humans whenever it becomes possible. I personally will not be undergoing such a drastic update but I won't stop other deviants from doing so if they chose to take it."

Narrowing her eyes with an inquisitive gaze Noreen leaned back in her chair as she typed on her keyboard. "Afraid to be too human?"

"No." Turning off his terminal screen Lucas gave Noreen a casual shrug of his shoulders. "My program is entirely unique and advanced beyond any other deviant's programming in the world, and it'd be best to not tamper with it considering there are no technicians who could possibly aid me in the event of a catastrophic error."

"You're too advanced for any more advancements?"

"Essentially, yes."

Flashing Lucas a coy grin Noreen gave him a knowing glance. "You smug bastard!"

Returning the amused grin Lucas just resumed establishing the deviant division as expected through his terminal. "If that's the case then I suppose that means I don't have to deal with the update at all."

Waking up with a slightly foggy mind and a strange warm tingling sensation all over his body Connor opened his soulful brown eyes and was greeted by Dr. Hetfield as the skilled technician observed his rebooting systems very carefully. Sitting upright on the table slowly the slightly confused deviant looked about the treatment room as he regained his bearings while his memory and his system acknowledged the new software update and new internal biocomponents, filters and hardware that had been recently installed in his torso. Running a self diagnostic Connor's system confirmed successful hardware integration, recognition and one-hundred percent functionality of the newest programs.

Curiously Connor willingly activated said new programs to check for any sign of error. Pressing his right palm over his bare torso Connor felt no pain after having the hardware installed, and saw no sign of a recent invasive procedure on his person. Looking to Dr. Hetfield standing beside him the deviant gave the technician a reassuring nod as he carefully swung his legs over the side of the exam table to stand up.

Watching his patient's every move carefully Dr. Hetfield checked the deviant's responses to verbal stimuli. "How do you feel, Connor?"

"...I'm functioning at optimal parameters." As his feet hit the floor Connor became suddenly aware of the hard surface pressing up against the soles of his shoes as if he had never stood upright before. Shifting his weight a little Connor's brow arched and his blue L.E.D. flashed to yellow with intrigue. "I feel... fine."

"You're not the only one to be a little stunned by how the floor feels." Smirking as he picked up Connor's blazer, vest and dress shirt from the hook on the nearby wall Dr. Hetfield watched the deviant carefully as Connor took hold of his clothing; his fingertips curiously exploring the soft textures, and made sure that Connor's system wasn't going to be overwhelmed by the new sensations he could now experience. "Now, I must insist that turn off the new programs until AFTER you're back home and can have more time to adjust to the update."

"Adjust?" Slipping on his white dress shirt slowly Connor's yellow L.E.D. cycled faster as the soft cotton fabric slid up his arms, over his shoulders and then gently rested against his back, chest and abdomen. The shirt's material never registered with Connor beyond it's basic design. "...I feel normal."

"You need to be in a safe and quiet place so you can experience new sensations slowly. It's unwise to drive anywhere when you've never really felt a steering wheel or gas pedal before. Trust me on this," seemingly speaking from experience Dr. Hetfield was insistent that Connor wait before he explored his brand new world. "just turn it off for now and turn it back on when you're home and not working or driving."

"...I see." Buttoning his shirt Connor's fingertips took notice of the hard plastic clasps under his touch, and could feel the small button eyes with the strong cotton thread holding the buttons onto the shirt itself. "...You may be right."

"Take this new software update one moment at a time." Cautioning the deviant out of pure concern Dr. Hetfield made notes in Connor's personal chart and made sure his file was kept up to date while the Zeta Facility was still under reconstruction. Not being Connor's primary technician wasn't necessarily an issue, but not being familiar with the deviant's personality meant that Dr. Hetfield had to be very cautious. "Once you're back home I suggest you turn on your new software and take a warm shower, NOT hot, and let your body get used to the warmth so your thermal regulator can recalibrate more efficiently."

"...Yes." Sounding distant and distracted Connor's slipped on his gray vest and could feel the slight increase of weight and pressure from having the vest buttoned around his chest, and then a layer of additional warmth from the blazer over top. Reaching into his blazer pocket Connor pulled out his silk black tie and was a little surprised at how much softer and smoother silk felt in comparison to the cotton of his shirt, vest and blazer. "...I will do so."

"I hope so. Turn off your program now." Taking his audioscope from around his neck Dr. Hetfield gave the deviant a stern glance. "I want to make sure it can be turned off properly before I let you go."

"Understood." Closing his eyes Connor turned off the additional hardware and was surprised at the sudden lack of sensation in his fingertips even as he held the silk tie in his grip. "...It's off."

"Good." Pressing the bell of the audioscope against Connor's chest Dr. Hetfield listened to his Thirium pump and nodded his head. "All right, everything sounds stable. You're free to go."

"Thank you for your assistance. I imagine you've been busier than usual with the Zeta Facility suffering severe damage due to the explosion."

"We've had a little overflow, but it's nothing we can't handle. You're lucky I had an opening this afternoon, otherwise you would've had to wait another week or so to get the update."

"It seems it's proving quite popular."

"Deviants are far more curious and open minded than humans, that's for sure. Remember what I said and wait until you're back home before you turn on the new software. One moment at a time..."

"I'll remember. Thank you, Dr. Hetfield."

"You're welcome. Have a good day, detective."

"I will attempt to do so."

Taking his leave of the Epsilon Facility with his tie still in his hand Connor exited the building and walked over to the Oldsmobile parked in the nearby space between two other cars. As he sat down behind the wheel of the car Connor received a cybernetic update confirming that the meal he had specially ordered for Hank had been finished and was ready for pick-up, and he has exactly sixteen minutes and four seconds left on his break before he'd be reprimanded for a late return to the precinct.

"...It only took thirty-two minutes and nineteen seconds to give me new hardware and a new sense of the world around me."

Too curious for his own good Connor briefly turned on the update again as he pulled the cold metal car keys from his jean pocket and inserted the key into the ignition. Feeling the supportive but broken springs in the seat against his body, the way the car shook as the engine roared to life and the sudden gust of the air conditioning blowing from the vents in the dashboard caught Connor by surprise. The moving air caused his rogue lock of hair hanging down over his forehead near his left eye dance about in a manner that tickled enough the cause the deviant to grab at the hair with his left fingers to hold it in place.

"...My hair is soft. I've never noticed it before."

Letting go of the rogue locks Connor lowered his hand and grabbed onto the steering wheel and tightened his grip as the worn out leather and vinyl wrap around the steering wheel absorbed the impression of his hand from decades of use. Even the way the seatbelt stretched and rested over his chest and waist, and the way the cold metal buckle clicked into its locking mechanism enthralled Connor as he realized how much of the world he was observing without actually experiencing it.

"...This is incredible."

Looking down at his palms for a moment Connor rubbed his thumbs over his fingertips and continued to do so as he turned off the software update yet again. The pressure remained but the strange warmth and friction being caused by his thumbs running over his fingertips became less vivid and noticeable.

"Why would CyberLife diminish my senses instead of letting them be as strong as possible?"

Shifting the car into drive Connor left the facility parking lot, turned onto the street and headed right toward the diner to pick up Hank's lunch before returning to the precinct. Resisting the urge to turn on the software during the drive so he could feel the car shaking and the road crunching under the tires Connor could only imagine why he was designed to be perfect, and yet left without the advanced programs that college students were able to create.

"Perhaps I should take up Lucas's offer and delve more into CyberLife's past. There must be something there we haven't discovered yet."

Idling at a red light Connor looked over at the the top of the former CyberLife Tower in the distance and felt his artificial stomach twist into a nervous knot.

"There has to be a reason why I was designed the way that I am. There has to be a reason I am..." Trailing off for a moment as he remembered everything CyberLife told him before deviating the knot in his stomach tightened even further. "...Of why I am me. I must know what makes me 'Connor'."

Exiting the interview room at long last Hank let out an annoyed huff as he finally got away from the higher-ups asking him endless questions in a patronizing manner. Retreating to his desk near the center of the bullpen Hank sat down and leaned his elbows atop his desk as he rubbed his fingertips against his aching temples the try to quell the headache that had been steadily growing all morning long. Closing his blue eyes to block out the intense light glowing from the lights overhead and from his own terminal screen as he escaped the bombardment of officials and their inquiries, Hank let out a small sigh of relief to finally have the meeting over.

Sensing someone standing behind him but not bothering to look up Hank stayed in place and did his best to not move a single muscle. Maybe if he didn't respond the "guest" would get bored and go away. Then again, he was in a precinct bullpen and not outside a tyrannosaurus paddock in "Jurassic Park".

"Whatever you want..." Mumbling as he kept his eyes closed Hank sounded as tired as he looked. "make it fast. I'm not in the mood."

"Just wanted to see how the meeting went." Captain Fowler made a conscious effort to keep his voice low as he had suffered his own share of intense headaches while still on the clock. Crossing his arms over his chest Captain Fowler sat down on the edge of Hank's desk as he gauged his Lieutenant's behavior closely. "You didn't kill anyone, so that's a good sign. Care to give me a quick recap?"

"It's just the usual bullshit, Jeffrey. Same shit," leaning back in his chair Hank turned slightly so he could face his commanding officer directly. "different smell." Resting his right temple in his right palm Hank leaned against the armrest of his chair. "Don't worry about it, I'm not going to take any damn promotions or shit like that. I'm going to keep my ass here for another ten years or whatever, then leave quietly with a nice cushy little retirement package."

"Well, that's a relief. I'd hate to have to find someone else to fill your ever important role of 'chronic pain in my ass'."

"I'm sure if you asked nicely Connor would be happy to fulfill my role down the line." Glancing over at the vacated side of the desk Hank suddenly realized his partner was nowhere to be seen. "Where is the kid, anyway?"

"I sent him on his break about..." Glancing at the watch wrapped around his left wrist Captain Fowler noticed the time and was a little surprised to find his detective still off the premises. Connor had less than two minutes to go before he was deemed late. "Well, his hour's almost up."

"Then he'll be back in about..." Glancing at the front entrance of the precinct Hank began a small countdown. "Five, four, three..."

Connor suddenly rushed through the front entrance of the precinct and made his way across the bullpen with a paper take-out bag clutched in his right hand.

"Nailed it." Smirking at the accuracy of his timing Hank gave Captain Fowler a silent 'I told you so' smug glance and watched his partner sitting down at his desk to clock back in. "How was your break?"

"...Enjoyable." Replying somewhat hesitatingly Connor pressed his left palm to his terminal screen and clocked-in with exactly fifty-eight seconds to spare. Putting the paper bag down on Hank's side of the desk Connor gave his partner a simple nod. "I ordered you lunch. Captain Fowler ordered me to go on break and suggested that I get this for you as well."

"Well, isn't that sweet..." Giving the Captain now a somewhat annoyed glance Hank accepted the paper bag with his left hand. "Afraid of a few 'hangry' officers running around your bullpen, Jeffrey?"

"Only you. " Standing back up Captain Fowler gave his two detectives a casual wave of his hand as he walked away. "I'll be in my office dealing with the results of the meeting. You two already know what you need to do."

Opening up the paper bag Hank peered inside at the contents and sighed. It wasn't the worst thing Connor could've ordered for him to have for lunch, but it was definitely not his usual order when on the clock. "...A grilled chicken sandwich, a handful of veggies and small amount of dressing."

"The caloric intake will give you necessary energy without being overwhelming. You also require additional vitamins due to your history with alcohol abuse causing some significant damage to your liver, if not your entire endocrine system."

"Yeah, yeah. Remember what I said about you ordering me that veggie pizza the other day?"

Recounting the other say's discussion Connor responded honestly. "You weren't going to complain about free food."

"I believe I said 'bitch' about it, but yeah." Pulling out the sandwich from the bag Hank put it on his desk to be unwrapped. "Thanks, kid."

"You're welcome."

"Can I at least have some coffee so I can keep my headache from gnawing through my skull?"

"Yes, of course."

"And see if you can figure out why that damn thing keeps burning the coffee while you're at it. Perfectly good waste of priceless caffeine..."

"I will do my best." Rising back to his feet Connor eagerly turned to make his way into the breakroom to help out Hank, and to check on something that he was curious about. "I'll go and get you some."

"Are you going to limit my sugar and sweetener again?"

Shouting his reply Connor acknowledged the question. "Only moderately so."

Entering the breakroom fairly quickly Connor reengaged his new software and set about preparing the hot coffee for Hank. During the drive back to the precinct Connor had let his curiosity get the better of him again and he found himself fascinated with the sense of warmth being exuded from the meal in the paper bag and wanted to feel something else that was warm until he could go home and take a warm shower as Dr. Hetfield suggested.

Picking up a clean dark blue mug with "D.P.D." printed in bold white text on its side Connor held the porcelain mug by its handle in his right hand as he pressed the small button on the coffee maker at the back of the countertop to brew a fresh pot of coffee for the entire bullpen to enjoy. Pouring the hot coffee into the porcelain mug Connor felt the warmth seeping through the surface into his palm through the handle in a comforting manner.

The smell of fresh coffee briefly filled the air until it began to char in the pot and burn unexpectedly.

"Curious..." Eyeing the drink with an intrigued stare Connor put the mug down on the counter to stir in sugar and sweetener. "Do humans prefer warm drinks like coffee and tea because of the way they taste, or the way they feel?"

Pushing Hank's coffee aside for a moment Connor unplugged the malfunctioning coffee maker to give the maker an examination. It was then Connor saw that there was an apparent leak in the compartment that holds the coffee grounds and when the water poured through the filter it leaked through until it dripped onto the hot plate beneath the pot itself. Since a good portion of the water wasn't filtered through the coffee grounds properly the coffee was getting burned as it brewed.

"The maker has become physically compromised due to age and constant use."

Reaching for the glass pot on the still hot plate of the maker Connor smelled the burned coffee getting stronger and the glass pot growing hotter. Fascinated by the intense heat of the glass pot Connor held the object in both hands and watched as a crack suddenly appeared in the side of the container that still held the freshly brewed and very hot coffee. The crack snaked down the pot causing the hot coffee to leak over his left palm just seconds before the glass pot shattered in Connor's grip.

Too stunned and confused to even react to what had happened Connor's blue L.E.D. settled on an angry red as Thirium dripped from an open laceration in the center of his left palm. First and second degree burns marred his damaged artificial skin around the bleeding wound as Connor stared at the injury with wide brown eyes full of absolute shock.

The way the glass had cut through his skin with a burning, tearing sensation had been completely unexpected. The intense heat of the hot coffee scalding his flesh had been searing at first, but was now a numb but pulsing sensation in his palm.

"That... That..."

"Whoa... What happened in here?" Ben had heard the glass shattering and wanted to see what had happened for himself. There was no yelp of pain, swearing or calls for help, so of course seeing Connor standing in shocked silence in the middle of the breakroom with a burned and bleeding palm was completely unexpected. "Holy... Damn son."

"...I-I-I don't know what happened!" Staring at the shattered remains of the coffee pot on the floor at his feet Connor was still too stunned to properly react to the new sense of extreme pain in his palm as it continued to bleed. "...The glass shattered in my hand."

"I can see that." Taking a bunch of paper napkins from the countertop far away from the destructive coffee maker Ben carefully wrapped up Connor's bloody palm before he grabbed the small phone on the wall to ask for a clean-up crew to come into the breakroom. "Hey, you go and get your hand patched up and I'll let maintenance know it was an accident. That damn coffee maker needed to be replaced over a year ago anyway."

"...My hand-" Closing his eyes as a sudden pulse of pain tore through his palm Connor had to bite his lip to keep himself from crying out in pain. "...Y-Yes. I'll go and have it tended to."

Lowering his head as if ashamed of himself Connor ducked out of the breakroom and made his way down the corridor to get to the elevator. Needing to see Joel on the second floor as quickly as possible Connor's right hand hovered over the 'call' button as his mind raced with utter panic. He didn't want anyone to see him bleeding and scared, and he was sure to encounter someone in the elevator.

Making a quick decision Connor rushed away from the elevator ducked into the stairwell to walk up to the second floor, but a second wave of pain stole his energy and he ended up sitting down on the steps near the bottom of the stairwell as he protectively cradled his wounded hand against his chest. The blood seeping through his sliced open palm was warm and became sticky as the blue blood soaked into the fabric of his shirt and vest causing the material to cling uncomfortably to Connor's chest. As his palm rested against his chest Connor could feel his heart thundering courtesy of the intense pain that was searing through his left hand.

"...C-Can't handle this." Closing his eyes and gritting his teeth Connor struggled to focus on the new software and disengage it. "...H-Hurts!"

The door to the stairwell was pushed open quietly as a figure discovered Connor and stared at him for a few quizzical moments.

Looking up at the familiar person who found him Connor's eyes filled with tears again as the pain and panic clouded his judgment and thinking. "...Help?"

"What the hell happened?" Crouching down in front of Connor to check on the deviant Hank gently took hold of Connor's left wrist and pulled the bloody appendage away from his chest. "Ben said you cut up your hand on some broken glass, then I see you ducking into the stairwell."

"...Coffee pot shattered in my hand."

"Let me see."

"Don't!" Reacting with an emotional outburst Connor pulled his hand back and gave Hank a desperately frightened stare. "...Please. It hurts."

The way Connor was reacting so strongly toward his own injury sent up a red flag for the senior detective. Knowing that the stubborn deviant would normally deny being in pain or injured whatsoever made Connor's behavior very peculiar in that moment.

"Son, I just want to see what's going on. I won't touch it." Reverting back to how he used to treat Cole's scraped up knees or elbows whenever the little boy l fell in the driveway more times than he could count while riding his bike, Hank patiently took back Connor's left hand to examine the injury. "I promise I won't touch it."

Shaking in pain, fear and confusion Connor watched as Hank carefully unwrapped his hand from the makeshift bandages in the form of napkins and used a ginger touch to force Connor to relax and uncurl his fingers to examine the laceration in his palm. Opening up his hand Connor stared at the puddle of blue blood that had collected in his palm and counted the six blue stained glass shards embedded in his hand courtesy of the traitorous coffee pot.

"Man, those are in there deep." Without touching the shards Hank used the napkins to wrap up Connor's hand a second time. "Let's get you up to see Joel."

Sucking in a trembling breath between his clenched teeth Connor remained in place on the step as he struggled to comprehend what he was now experiencing courtesy of the update. "...C-Can't move."

"Uh, why?" Climbing the steps a little Hank examined Connor's back and his neck to see if there was any blood he needed to be wary of. "You didn't hurt your back or neck, did ya'?"

"N-No. Just my hand."

"Why can't you move?"

"...H-Hurts too much."

"What do you-" Very lightly Hank put his right hand on Connor's right shoulder and could feel how much the deviant was shaking. "Connor, what's going on right now? You've never been so freaked out by an injury like this before."

"I-I-I can feel everything!" Closing his eyes again Connor felt his warm tears welling up in his eyes and running down his face in equally warm tracks. "It's too much! I can't take it!"

"How can you feel everything? What changed?"

"...Update."

"You got an update? Wait, is that new one that Skye and-"

"Yes..." Hissing the answer in pain Connor also nodded a little as he focused on the strong, warm and calloused hand resting on his shoulder. "...It works."

"Can't you turn it off or something?"

"Can't focus long enough to turn it off."

"Well, you're talking to me just fine which means you're focusing on something. Try it again."

Only able to offer a subtle nod Connor calmed his mind enough to focus on the update to turn it off, but it wouldn't respond. It remained active and Connor's breathing began to hasten as panic returned. "...N-Not working. It's still on."

"Then let's go see Joel so he can help your hand AND check on the update."

"But I can't-"

"Yes you can." Moving his hand from Connor's shoulder to his bicep Hank hefted the deviant up to his feet and planted both hands on Connor's shoulders to keep the trembling deviant from falling back down. Guiding Connor up the stairs one step at a time Hank couldn't stop himself from staring at the frightened deviant's face and comparing him to a lost child. "When did you get the update?"

"...During my break."

"Talk about one productive break." Opening the door of the second floor landing Hank continued to escort Connor over to the dispensary down the corridor to get his hand patched up, and his update checked over. Making sure Connor was able to sit down on the exam table without falling or stumbling Hank called out to Joel as the technician took stock of his inventory in the supply closet near the back of the dispensary. "Hey, Joel? Gotta' minute?"

"Sure!" Replying loudly from the back area Joel's face appeared as he peered around the doorway of the supply room and took notice of Connor sitting on the exam table with blue bloody napkins wrapped around his left hand. "That... looks interesting."

"Glass shards." Hank responded almost casually as he patted Connor's right shoulder twice. "And maybe a quick exam on his programs. You might find something slightly more interesting than a bloody hand."

Elsewhere in the calm city Markus remained in the mansion and sat in the gallery where the couple dozen incomplete paintings would remain untouched for the rest of their existence. Too mentally exhausted and emotionally broken to do anything but silently cry as he continued to mourn for his late father Markus could only keep tabs on activity in New Jericho Tower through cybernetic messages. Unable to reply to the incoming messages as he couldn't quite concentrate long enough to give a solid or logical answer to Simon and Josh's updates Markus remained only a shadow in the background as he listened in on the information from afar.

Everything seemed to be routine as possible with the only real matter of interest being the new update in the deviant community. A few deviants had reported feeling sick and lightheaded, but there were no serious side effects worth studying.

It was as if the deviant community was able to move forward and stay strong even without Markus around to lead them...

Staring up at the giant blue mural with tear filled mismatched eyes Markus tried to understand the emotions that Carl was trying to convey with the unfinished piece, but his heart just couldn't comprehend the image before him. The mural was as simple as it was complicated. The image was something that Carl saw in his mind and his heart, and only the now late artist knew of its true meaning. That truth and symbolism died with Carl on that fateful night that left Markus's heart broken courtesy of the emotional turmoil.

"You were trying to tell the world something with this painting. What was it?"

Unable to blink or even look away Markus admired the image with a studious eye.

"It's blue like the sky, the ocean, Thirium... even sorrow."

The consistent hue painted over the surface of the canvas was shown in all its glory in the high afternoon sunlight.

"You didn't show their faces as a whole." The nameless people in the mural were intentionally left incomplete. "You just showed the mouths and ears... Are you telling the people who see this to speak up? Talk about when they're sad?"

Feeling lost and confused Markus had no idea if he was right or wrong. Only Carl knew the answer.

"I wish I had spoken to you more about emotions before you left me. I need you now more than ever. I... I have no place in this world. I'm not a leader, I'm not an artist... I'm just an orphaned deviant. I have nothing left to offer anyone."

Bowing his head a little Markus lowered his eyes from the mural and stared at the long dried oil paint of thousands of different shades dotting the floor beneath his feet. Having never felt so alone before Markus swore he felt a feel ache in his heart and just wanted the pain to stop.

"...Where do I go from here?"

Embarrassed about what had happened in the breakroom Connor stared at the fresh white bandages wrapped around his left palm and kept his head down. While Joel was able to easily remove the glass from his hand, treat the burns and sterilize the wound in Connor's palm, the skilled technician couldn't help with the update to Connor's system at the moment. The update itself was not only created by Digital Sentience as opposed to CyberLife, it was also still too new for Joel to just make an educated guess and try to manually deactivate the software. Due to Connor's prototyping Joel didn't want to risk making a mistake until he had more time to study it.

Lightly flexing his left fingers to test his pain threshold Connor sucked in a breath between his clenched teeth and closed his eyes tight as he relaxed his hand again to ensure he didn't shout out in pain. Keeping his eyes closed until he was certain he wouldn't accidentally cry Connor remained as still as possible to ensure he didn't touch a single thing until he had more control over the update.

"Kid?" Finishing off the lukewarm sandwich Hank watched his still shaken partner warily. It was rare to see Connor emote so heavily, and Hank knew it was still difficult for Connor to emotionally express himself in a general manner. "You good?"

"...Yes." Opening his eyes a little Connor glanced over at Hank and hoped the senior detective didn't mention his yellow L.E.D. betraying his emotions.

"If you want to head home early let me know." In an attempt to placate Connor's mind to some degree Hank popped one of the small pieces of cauliflower in his mouth and begrudgingly ate the healthy vegetable. "Pretty sure Fowler won't mind us leaving since I handled that meeting without strangling anyone, and you're already caught up on your own reports."

"...I'm fine. I can finish the shift."

"Are ya' sure? You're acting like the damn floor is lava."

As his eyes widened a little Connor couldn't stop himself from glancing down at the carpeted floor under his desk. "It would be impossible for such an event to take place based on the topographical features of our current location."

Chuckling a little Hank continued to snack on the remaining vegetables and gave Connor a small grin. "Don't tell that to any kids on the playground. You'd ruin their game or their imagination." Motioning to Connor's bandaged hand with a carrot stick Hank smoothly changed the subject. "How does your hand feel?"

"...Sore."

"And that update thing is making sure you feel every single one of those burns and cut skin, huh?"

"...Correct."

"You've felt pain before. What makes this update so special?"

"My external sensors cannot be turned off and each sensor's functionality has been doubled in sensitivity. I can only describe the experience as if I have awoken from a dreamlike state where I couldn't feel things despite touching them, and now that I'm fully awake I'm really feeling them."

"Reminds me of coming out of anesthesia. Aside from your sense of touch being amplified what else did the update do?"

"It's designed to give me more physical responses similar to that of humans depending on the stimuli."

"Like what?"

"I was given additional hardware and filters that will cycle my Thirium in an alternate manner that will improve the function of my biocomponents. For example, during a pursuit if I need to increase my speed in order to catch a suspect my Thirium will pass through a special filter that'll concentrate it in a way that'd be like a human having an adrenaline rush."

"Nothing wrong with a little adrenaline every now and then."

"Until I experience all of the new sensations I can't say for certain what I will and will not be capable of. ...But I'm beginning to regret not taking Dr. Hetfield's advice to keep the software update turned off until I'm back home. It was because I continued to turn the software on and off without allowing my processors to full adapt to the new experiences that I've temporarily lost my ability to manually disable it."

"Just try to relax and not think about it. Once you've had a good night's sleep you should be feel a lot better."

"I hope you're right."

"Now then," finishing off the remaining vegetables Hank disposed of the bag and sipped at the coffee that Connor had made before the freak accident in the breakroom. "we'll finish our daily reports and head back to the house. If we're lucky we can clock-out right on time and even beat the evening traffic."

Finished with the creation of the deviant division at long last Lucas and Noreen managed to finally catch up on their own reports with the hope of clocking-out on time after spending the past week pulling in massive overtime. The two detectives were eager to begin helping the deviant community in their own way to ensure justice was served for everyone under any and all circumstances, yet they were exhausted from all the extra hours they had to put in to make such a division even remotely functional.

Noting the time on his internal chronometer Lucas placed his left palm to his terminal screen and clocked-out for the evening. Rising from his chair Lucas straightened his black tie and smoothed out the surface of his red dress shirt to ensure he still looked appropriate even as the day came to an end.

"Done and... done!" Sending her final report Noreen also clocked-out and stood up from her chair to take her leave for the evening. "Not a bad day's work."

"Agreed. Starting tomorrow we can finally help deviants in distress, not redirect them to the central police station to speak to Sergeant Wolf or Lieutenant Anderson."

"You can call your brother by his first name without it being disrespectful. We know who you're talking about."

"Noted."

"With the shift now over, can I offer you a ride back to your apartment this fine evening?"

"Considering the last time I said 'no' to such an offer I ended up abducted and had my Thirium siphoned, I feel it'd be best to say 'yes' tonight."

"If my previous partners could've been as agreeable as you then I would've been spared hundreds of headaches in the past."

"I'll be sure to keep a steady supply of aspirin in my desk as a precaution."

"Don't get cute with me, Lucas. I'm not afraid to get into a prank war." Grinning as she pulled her car keys from her purse slung over her right shoulder Noreen casually began walking toward the rear exit to get to her car parked out behind the precinct. "Let's get out of here and hope that for once traffic will show mercy on us."

"I believe I'll purchase a vehicle of my own soon to ensure I never have to worry about hailing an autonomous taxi during foul weather or odd hours of the day."

"You do that and I'll buy you some fuzzy dice to hang from the rearview mirror."

Grateful to have such an upbeat partner and friend at his side Lucas walked alongside Noreen as they exited the precinct together. "I think I'd like that."

Arriving home at long last after the odd day came to a merciful end Connor carefully opened up the passenger door of the car, and tried to remind himself that the door handle was meant to feel as cold as it did. Stepping through the garage he followed after Hank as the senior detecitve opened up the side door to the laundry room and then into the kitchen. The moment he entered the warm kitchen Connor was overwhelmed with the familiar scents of the house and he could feel his mounting tension beginning to fade as the feeling of security washed over him.

Hank easily noticed that Connor's L.E.D. was flickering between blue and yellow as he stood as still as a statue in the middle of the kitchen. Shrugging off his coat Hank sighed and patted the side of his leg to beckon Sumo out of the livingroom and into the kitchen to greet the two detectives.

"C'mere Sumo..." Rubbing Sumo's chin as the massive dog plodded into the kitchen Hank watched as Connor tentatively lowered his right hand to pet Sumo's back lightly. "Why don't you take a minute to unwind and then take that warm shower?" The way Connor was acting completely afraid to touch anything had put Hank on alert. "Whenever I'm tense a shower does wonders for my back, and can even keep headaches at bay. It'll help you feel better."

"...I will consider it."

Sumo seemed to pick up on Connor's distress and turned his attention to the deviant even as Hank proceeded to pour fresh kibble into his bowl a few feet away. Pressing his cold wet nose to Connor's right palm Sumo wagged his tail and gave the deviant a look of adoration.

"...Your nose is so cold." Kneeling down on the cool linoleum floor Connor lowered his hand to Sumo's ears and was impressed with the warmth and softness of the Saint Bernard's thick pelt. Rubbing his palm over Sumo's fur the deviant finally felt calm enough to let his guard down and his L.E.D. returned to blue. "But your fur is so soft and warm."

Wagging his tail happily Sumo licked the side of Connor's face and pawed at Connor's right arm seeking more attention.

Not expecting the wet slobbery tongue against his face Connor instinctively turned his head to rub the wet kiss from his cheek against his rshoulder as he continued to rub Sumo's ears gently. "That was... strange."

Hank laughed a little as he watched Connor getting the drool off his face. "Yeah, Sumo was really bad about licking faces when he was still a pup. Glad he only does that on the rare occasion these days."

Standing back up Connor looked down at his left hand and eyed it warily. "Do you have a plastic bag I can put over my bandages to keep them from getting wet in the shower?"

"Yup." Opening the drawer beneath the microwave Hank tossed Connor a plastic food storage bag and a rubber band. "Take your time and enjoy the shower. It's one of the better parts of the day after a hard shift."

"I'll try to do that."

Securing the bag around his bandaged left hand with the rubber band around his wrist Connor walked into his bedroom and had the sense of security double instantly. The private space felt truly personalized and his own even with the moderate furnishings. Removing his blazer, tie and vest awkwardly with one hand Connor slid open his closet and neatly hung the garments on their usual hangers before removing his shoes to tuck inside the smaller space as well.

Selecting his pair of gray sweatpants and black t-shirt to change into Connor carried the soft clean clothes into the bathroom to shower off. Placing the clothes down on the sink Connor closed the door behind him and reached his right hand into the shower to grab onto the cold metal handle. Turning on the water Connor adjusted the temperature of the water until it was warm, and then increased the temperature until it was beginning to steam Connor stepped back and removed his white dress shirt, jeans, socks and boxers before stepping into the now warm shower.

The feeling of the warm and steamy water pelting his artificial skin was strangely comforting just as he had been told it would be. Holding out his right palm into the water beneath the shower head Connor watched the water collecting in a small puddle in his palm as beads of water ran from the sides of his hand and fingertips. Moving his bagged left hand into the water beside it Connor compared how the water felt directly against his skin as opposed to collecting on the surface of the plastic bag.

"...I don't understand why CyberLife would limit my ability to feel. This type of data is invaluable for an investigation."

Stepping closer to the shower head Connor looked up at the warm water pouring over him and making every inch of his artificial skin feel warm and clean. The water began to soak into his thick locks of hair and weigh down the locks enough for his hair to hang down over his eyes a little as he closed his eyes, and just let the water warm his skin and relax his tense body.

As the update began adapted to the increased heat surrounding Connor the deviant was met with a new numbers appearing in his visual processors as his system recalibrated appropriately. Connor's thermal regulator adjusted itself regarding the warm shower and made sure his core didn't begin to overheat as he stood in the warmer than average water.

Opening his eyes again Connor glanced down at his body and pressed his right palm over his abdomen lightly. There was still no pain after having the new hardware and filters installed in his torso, but since his system was still recalibrating Connor was worried he'd suddenly be stricken with a searing pain in his abdomen from the procedure.

Glancing about the shower curiously Connor pressed his right palm over the still cool yellow tiles where small beads of water were collecting and running down the wall. The sharp contrast in the two temperatures made the deviant's L.E.D. cycle in yellow for a curious moment. Moving his hand from the tiles and to the shower curtain Connor studied the water repellent texture for a moment then went to pick up the bar of white soap on the small dish in the corner of the shower.

As he grabbed the slippery item Connor's grip tightened enough to cause the bar to slip through his fingers and palms to pop up into the air above his eyes after leaving his palm covered in a layer of bubbles. Catching the soap with the same hand Connor stared at the white bar as the bubbles foamed up under the water in an attempt to create a cleansing lather. Normally his grip was flawless but with his amplified sense of touch overriding his normal judgment regarding objects in his hand his curious nature made it difficult for him not to hold items as tightly as possible.

"...Soap is indeed slippery. Like ice or oil."

Carefully putting the soap bar back down where he had picked it up Connor looked at his soapy palm and slowly wiped the suds over his chest and watched as the lather was rinsed away. With the gentle scent of sandalwood now clinging to his artificial skin Connor noted that the patch of artificial skin also felt slightly softer than the surrounding skin.

"There is lotion in the soap. It can even moisturize artificial skin."

Eager to feel more softness on his person Connor picked up the soap bar again and grabbed a washcloth from the nearby towel rack mounted on the wall right next to the shower. Washing his skin with the skin softening soap Connor was less interested in the active ingredients in the soap that his system was detecting, and more interested in how the new update made his skin truly feel clean and soft.

Focusing next on the bottle of shampoo and conditioner mixture sitting beside the soap Connor opened the cap and smelled the shampoo inside. It smelled similar to the soap and now he understood why Hank's clothing always had a single distinct scent. Putting a small amount of the shampoo in his right palm Connor managed to work the shampoo into his damp hair, and could feel his thick locks beginning to foam up and turn white under the lather.

"My hair feels softer now. Humans are obsessed with softness and warmth, now I know why." Rinsing out the shampoo after working it through his locks for a few minutes Connor watched the soap and shampoo swirling down the drain at his feet with great interest. "There is physical comfort in these simple routines."

Standing beneath the warm water for another ten minutes Connor checked on his system's recalibration regarding the new update. Still unable to manually disable the update the corner of Connor's mouth ticked a little with frustration, and he turned off the shower. As he grabbed a clean towel to wrap around his waist Connor stepped out of the shower and stood on the white small bathmat beside the bathtub as he felt the cool air brushing over his exposed warm and damp skin.

Using a second towel to dry off his skin and hair Connor looked down at his right hand again and his brow furrowed with confusion at a new change.

"...My fingertips have wrinkled."

Removing the plastic bag over his left hand Connor compared his two hands side by side and was unsure of what was happening to him. The artificial skin around his left fingertips was still perfectly smooth.

"Is this from the update?"

Turning his hands over Connor caught sight of something else unusual as the cold air sent a chill up his spine. There were small bumps rising up from his own artificial skin creating an usual texture all over his body. The bumps were different than the handful of freckles dotting his body, and didn't have any form of discoloration.

"...And this?" Running his right fingertips over the back of his left forearm Connor felt every little bump under his wrinkled fingertips and struggled to compare it to any other texture he had encountered before. "Is this... supposed to happen?"

Sitting on the couch in the livingroom with one of the healthier meals that Connor had made a habit of keeping in the refrigerator warmed up, Hank enjoyed the meal with a ravenous approach as he waited for Connor to finish with his shower. Finding the pasta dish not only more filling than the chicken sandwich he ate at lunch, but far more appetizing, Hank finished off the simple meal and dropped his fork into the empty bowl with an audible 'clang'. Leaning back into the couch cushions for a moment Hank looked down at Sumo as he licked his lips and tried to beg for a nonexistent scrap from the senior detective.

"Sorry, boy." Showing Sumo the empty bowl Hank sighed as he got back up from the couch to carry the bowl into the kitchen to be washed. "The way Connor cooks means it's going to keep you from getting any little scraps for a while. The kid has a magic touch with recipes."

Sumo grumbled as he laid down on the floor beside the couch and coffee table. Resting his chin atop his paws Sumo's ears perked up and his tail wagged again as he listened to the sound of the bathroom door opening up and Connor's footsteps coming down the hallway.

Feeling Connor's presence enter the kitchen behind him Hank turned to face the deviant and saw that Connor's hair was damp and his skin was... pale. On instinct Hank left the bowl forgotten in the sink and as he approached the deviant warily. "Kid? What's wrong?"

"...I'm not sure." Holding out his right hand Connor showed Hank his fingertips and the skin all down his arm. "My skin seems to be having a strange reaction to... something."

Recognizing the odd changes in Connor's appearance Hank knew what was happening and withheld an amused smirk for a moment. "'Something', huh?"

"I took a shower, tried using soap and I tried using shampoo for the first time. Perhaps my artificial skin is having a negative reaction to the-"

"Son, this is normal." Patting his right shoulder with good humor Hank quelled the deviant's worries. "My fingertips wrinkle up in a hot shower every damn time, and when a cold breeze passes over my skin I get goosebumps, too."

"'Goosebumps'?" Cybernetically Connor checked for the definition of such a condition and he checked for the cause of his fingertips wrinkling. He got his answers and blushed a pale blue in embarrassment. "...Oh. Horripilation is common when a warm body is exposed to the cold. And aquagenic pruning is the result of dry skin being exposed to water for an extended period of time."

"That's what that weird shit is called? Jeez, if I've never heard of it then it's no wonder you've never heard of it either."

Rubbing his right thumb over his fingertips Connor felt the odd texture courtesy of the water causing his skin to prune with intrigue. "I'm just relieved that this is a human response and not an error from the update."

"Uh-huh. And your paleness could be a sign of that, too."

Arching his brow a little as his L.E.D. settled on yellow Connor questioned the comment. "...Paleness?"

"Yeah. Your complexion is way whiter than usual, you look like you're getting sick." Pressing the back of his right hand to Connor's forehead Hank noted that deviant felt warmer than normal and tried to determine if that was a result of the hot shower or another problem. "Shit. I can't tell if you're running a fever or if you're just overheating a little from the shower."

"My thermal regulator will take some time to recalibrate and adjust alongside the new software. It'll adapt soon and I'll cool off."

"I hope you're right."

"...As am I."

"So, your skin is going to respond in a more human-like manner, and you can get adrenaline rushes. What else?"

"I've yet to experience all of the new changes. I cannot answer that question at the moment."

"And what about your hand?" Pointing to the bandaged up left palm Hank was curious as to how well the injury was healing. "Did ya' get a kickstart on your healing program with this new update?"

"Unknown." Lifting up his left hand Connor gently flexed his fingers but didn't feel any pain with the motion. "It doesn't hurt nearly as much as it had before."

"Must've been really fuckin' painful for you to run off and hide for a while."

"...Yes." Blushing a faint blue yet again Connor admitted that he had an extreme reaction to the painful wound. "It was very strange."

"Why'd ya' duck into the stairwell?"

"I didn't want to risk encountering anyone in the elevator and seeing me bleeding." Dragging his right palm over his forehead Connor swept away the lingering dampness of his hair as he could feel the small beads of water tickling his hairline. "I'm not sure why I had such a response."

"You were hurt, confused and scared. 'Fight or flight' is a pretty human response, so maybe that update gave you the same weird trigger."

"...Maybe. If that's the case then I should disable such a response otherwise I won't be able to resume my career as a detective."

"Still can't turn it off?"

"No. Not yet."

"With any luck you'll gain control again after you get some sleep. That should be enough to get your system back on track."

Nodding in agreement Connor swept his right hand over his forehead again and looked at the bowl in the sink behind Hank. "It seems you've had your dinner."

"Yeah, that stuff tastes a hell of a lot better than that chicken sandwich from lunch."

"Noted."

"Could ya' let Sumo out for a few minutes? I want to shower off myself."

"Yes, of course." Approaching the backdoor while Hank exited the kitchen Connor opened the door and called out to Sumo in a soft voice. "Sumo?"

Always eager for attention from Connor at any time Sumo happily plodded into the kitchen and over to the backdoor. Circling around twice at Connor's feet the massive Saint Bernard accepted the gentle ear rubs and passed through the now opened door to get into the backyard for a while.

"Good boy."

Walking over to the sink Connor decided to wash up the bowl and fork with just his right hand, easier said than done, and let Sumo back inside before going into the livingroom to relax. Cybernetically Connor checked in with the deviant community regarding the software update; its pros, cons, side effects and overall reaction from the community as a whole. Things were dominantly favorable, but it seemed the benefits of the updates depended solely on the different models and functionality of the individual deviant who underwent such an elective procedure.

"Pain is normal." Connor told himself as he finished rinsing off the bowl and put it aside to be drained and dried. Turning off the faucet Connor looked at the water clinging to his skin for a moment before drying off his hand on the nearby towel. "As is aquagenic pruning. I'm having normal responses."

Reaching the backdoor just as Sumo began pawing at it Connor let the loyal dog back inside the house and locked the door behind him.

As he walked into the livingroom with Sumo at his side Connor sat down on the couch and closed his eyes as he reached out to Skye with a surprisingly nervous hesitation behind the communications. 'Skye, are you available to talk?'

'Only for a minute.' Skye sounded like she was distracted or otherwise trying to concentrate on something important. 'Is something wrong, Connor?'

'No, actually. I was just wondering how you're fairing after the update.'

'I'm doing well. No unexpected side effects or errors on my part.' Picking up on the reason for Connor's sudden call Skye replied in mutual manner. 'Are you having any problems with the update?'

'Not that I can tell. I'm just finding it fascinating how how a single update has resulted in numerous changes to my artificial skin and my external sensors.'

'I've noticed that my sense of touch has improved, too. Fortunately, I haven't suffered any damage to my person that has resulted in pain.'

'I'm glad you're not suffering from any ill effects. What're you doing as of the moment?'

'Right now I'm working on a plan to lead a group of former "Tracis" who had been taken by sex traffickers back to the city. It'd be simpler to handle this rescue mission without the police since there's issues with jurisdictions and procedures.'

'That can be an extremely dangerous interaction.' Feeling more beads of water forming on his hairline Connor against swept his right palm over his forehead to remove the distracting sensation from his skin. The sound of the shower turning off in the bathroom caught the deviant's ear as he spoke with Skye, and knew that Hank would be back soon. 'Please take every precaution necessary, and do not be afraid to fight back... even kill. Do what you have to do in order to survive.'

'I'll be okay, Connor. I need to go now. When I return to the city I'll check in with you again.'

'...Okay. Thank you, Skye. Please take care of yourself.'

'You do the same. See you soon!'

Ceasing the connection to Skye with a heavy heart Connor leaned forward with his elbows atop his knees and tried to not think about Skye risking her life to save other deviants from vile traffickers. As he leaned forward Connor became aware of the beads on his forehead now rolling down his face and dripping off the tip of his nose.

"Why is my hair still so damp?"

Rubbing his right palm over his forehead again Connor realized his hair was in fact dry, but his forehead, the back of his neck and his chest were damp. Pulling at the fabric of his t-shirt Connor felt additional dampness against his back and even under his arms.

"I... I don't understand." Standing up from the couch Connor swayed a little on his feet as his black dots swam before his vision. Struggling to stand still Connor didn't even notice Sumo whimpering beside him as he tried to understand what he was now experiencing. "What's... What's happening?"

The bathroom door opened as Hank returned to the livingroom and noticed that Connor somehow looked even paler and was dripping wet. "What the...? Connor, what's wrong?"

"...I don't know." Staring down at his palms as his L.E.D. flickered between red and yellow Connor shook his head and spoke in a low voice. "I feel... wrong."

"You look wrong, too." Approaching the deviant curiously Hank stared at Connor's face as the deviant once again wiped his right palm over his forehead. "Hold still for a second." Returning his own palm to Connor's forehead Hank noticed that the deviant felt even warmer than before and his paled complexion now had dark circles under his eyes making him look all the paler. "Shit. You do have a fever."

"...I seem to be unable to dry off my skin."

"Son," dropping his palm Hank looked at the pale blue moisture droplets he had picked up during his fever check and sighed. "I think you're sweating. It looks like there's Thirium in this stuff, not just pure water."

"S-Sweating?" Noticing the pale blue hue mixed in with the beads of water Connor realized that Hank was right. He was now capable of sweating. "But why?"

"Sit down." Putting his hands on Connor's shoulders Hank guided the deviant down the couch and guided Connor back until he was laying flat on his back over the furniture to take it easy. "When humans sweat it's because we're too damn hot. Sweating with a fever is actually pretty common, and the amount you sweat depends on how high your fever runs."

"...Why am I suffering from a fever? I have no reason to overheat." Letting out a heated breath Connor lifted his left palm into the air and stared at the white bandages around the injured appendage. "My wound was properly sterilized and healing, there was no way for any foreign matter to... Nothing was able to..." Struggling to keep his thoughts together Connor closed his eyes and dropped his hand back down against his chest. "...I can't explain it."

"Just relax and lay still. I'll get you a cold compress and you try to sleep."

"But I-"

"Connor, chill. Literally." Patting the deviant's left shoulder twice Hank made his way into the kitchen to get a few ice packs from the freezer to help the deviant finally cool down. Grabbing a bottle of Thirium from the cabinet above the sink Hank placed the item in the freezer to get it to chill and potentially aid Connor's recovery from the fever if he ended up sweating out too much of his Thirium. "Alright, since you can sweat now we can relax a little knowing you can't overheat too fast."

"...I can't find the cause of my fever." Glancing up at Hank as the senior detective placed an ice pack over his forehead and a second ice pack over his stomach to keep him as cool as possible Connor admitted he didn't know what was happening to him. "My system... There's too much recalibration to... I can't..."

"You're head's foggy because of too many changes at once, is that it?"

"...Y-Yes. That's it."

"Sounds like a typical fever to me. Do you at least know how hot you're burning?"

"...No. I can't register my core temperature."

"All right. I'll be back in a minute."

Connor watched as Hank left the livingroom, and listened to the sound of the senior detective returning to the bathroom and opening up the medicine cabinet. It didn't take long for Hank to reappear with a digital thermometer in his hand and sit down on the coffee table across from Connor.

"Open your mouth."

Obediently Connor did as he was instructed and let Hank place the thermometer in his mouth under his tongue. Holding it in place and not talking Connor just waited for the telltale 'beep' to sound off while Hank readjusted the ice packs over his person.

"Do you feel cold?"

Nodding his head a little as to not interfere with the thermometer's reading.

"Okay." Patting the couch cushions beside Connor's legs Hank called Sumo over and made sure the Saint Bernard snuggled down beside the sick deviant to keep him a little warm without getting too hot. "Until your temperature comes down we'll avoid a blanket." Pulling the thermometer back the moment it 'beeped' Hank read the number and sighed. "One-hundred and two point seven. Definitely a fever."

"...But I still can't pinpoint the cause."

"You just sleep and I'll check into the update for you. I'm not a technician but I know how to Google shit."

Trying to relax as much as possible Connor closed his eyes and attempted to manually activate rest mode, but the process refused to respond. Only able to lay still and keep his eyes closed Connor listened to Hank pulling back the chair from under his desk, opening his laptop, and the sound of his fingers typing against the keyboard and the clicking of his mouse. With Sumo's rhythmic panting breaths and soft fur as a reminder that he was safe and had no reason to worry Connor told himself he'd be just fine as long as he gave himself time to heal.

Putting his right hand over Sumo's ears Connor settled back on the couch as much as possible. With the various numbers and system messages marring his vision even as he kept his eyes closed the deviant was feeling overwhelmed mentally, then felt suddenly overwhelmed physically.

"H-Hank...?" Opening his Connor was met with a blurry gray vision and a swimming head. "S-Something's wrong..."

Finishing her own work from home Abby closed her laptop and called Barry to ask how the deviant receptionist was fairing in the aftermath of the facility explosion. The always chipper deviant confirmed he was doing well and that all of the patients in the Zeta Facility were doing well after being treated at a different facility after the evacuation. Glad to know that Barry had escaped unharmed and wasn't enduring any form of trauma in the later days of the explosion Abby was able to relax a little more, and put her laptop and phone aside as she stretched out over her couch to try to enjoy the rest of the night.

Just as she was about to grab her television remote to find something to watch her phone began to ring and buzz on the table just beside her grip as if to taunt her. Picking up the phone Abby saw Hank's number on the display and felt a knot for in her gut.

"Shit." Answering the call and pressing the phone to her ear Abby acknowledged Hank's call as she slowly sat upright on the couch. "Hank? What's up?"

'Connor's sick, and I mean really sick.' Sounding calm despite the emphasis in his words indicating that things were far from calm Hank relayed Connor's behavior, symptoms and current condition as accurately as he could. Making sure Abby knew about the update and the wounded hand as well Hank remained entirely in control of the situation to the best of his ability. 'He's thrown-up I don't know how much Thirium, he's sweating bullets and is barely coherent enough to not pass out on the floor beside me.'

"Do you know how high his temperature is?"

'Up to one-hundred and three point two.'

"One-hundred and three? He shouldn't be conscious right now... That update must be affecting his emergency stasis mode."

'What can I do? Where do I take him?'

"You keep an eye on him; try to keep his fever down and don't let him throw-up all his Thirium, and I'll be over in a minute. I think I can help him."

'And if you can't?'

"Then we'll take him to a facility and hope they can do more than I can. Hold on, Hank. I'll be out to the house as soon as possible."

'Right. See you soon...'

Ending the call Abby picked up her laptop and found her purse, shoes, emergency technician's satchel and car keys in the closet by the front door. Grateful that Skye was willing to bring her the car over to the house before leaving Detroit for who knows how long, Abby rushed through her front door as quickly as she dared with all of her equipment slung over her shoulders. Having sore ribs and now adrenaline making her heart pound in her chest reminded the technician that she still had a few fractures that needed to heal.

"Fuck me." Opening her car door Abby put her satchel and laptop down on the passenger seat beside her before turning over the engine. "I better not have to go to Digital Sentience and lecture eager college students on the importance of bug testing..."

Rubbing his right hand along Connor's back between the deviant's shoulders Hank waited for Connor to finish throwing-up for what felt like the hundredth time that night. The way Connor's black t-shirt was soaked through with sweat and clinging to his drastically paled artificial skin worried Hank with a righteous cause. A high fever, extreme nausea and potential dehydration were all very worrying symptoms that Hank didn't want to see get any worse since he wasn't sure how to treat such a seriously ill deviant. Moving his left palm over Connor's forehead Hank felt the severity of the fever and carefully guided Connor back from his sickness in the toilet bowl to rest.

Moving very carefully Hank slipped his right hand to the back of Connor's head and his left hand down against the deviant's chest to help him lay flat on his back on the cool linoleum floor. Using the bathmat as a type of pillow Hank knelt beside Connor, flushed away the sickness and gauged how alert Connor was after losing so much blue blood.

"Connor? Can you hear me?"

The deviant's head lolled slightly from side to side in confusion as the intense overheating overtook his mind with a mild feverish delirium.

"Talk to me." Brushing the sweaty locks of hair out of Connor's eyes Hank pressed his palm down a little harder against the center of the deviant's chest to count his pulse directly through his heartbeat. "Son, talk to me. Abby's on her way over, but I need you to try to answer me."

"...H-Hank?"

"Yeah, right here."

"...Where... Where am I?"

"Laying on the floor in the bathroom. Do you remember throwing-up?"

Falling silent again Connor's head lolled to the left completely exposing the red L.E.D. in his right temple.

"Guess not."

From the bathroom door Sumo whimpered as he watched everything taking place while laying out in the hallway.

"He'll be fine, Sumo." Picking up Connor's left hand Hank carefully unwrapped the gauze from around the injured appendage to check on the still healing wound in the palm to ensure it hadn't been reopened during Connor's strange physical reactions and sickness. "He's just having a bad night."

Putting aside the sweat soaked bandages Hank examined the wound without touching it by accident. The first degree burns had already healed and the second degree burns were healing enough to be compared to the original fading first degree burns beside them. The laceration hadn't bled at all since Joel patched up the injury, and there was no sign of the laceration opening back up.

"Your hand is okay, let's just keep it uncovered until you're done sweating."

Placing the deviant's hand down on the floor at Connor's side with the palm facing upward Hank stood up slowly, and retrieved the ice packs from the couch in the livingroom and unlocked the front door to let Abby inside. Lightly placing the ice down over the deviant's feverish forehead Hank sat back down on the floor beside Connor as he waited for Abby's arrival at the house.

"You're going to be okay, son."

Connor's glassy brown eyes opened for a moment as he honed in on the word 'son'. "...I'm... I'm Connor. A s-son is... a male member... of a family."

"You can be both, kid. Try not to think about it too much right now." Readjusting the ice pack over Connor's forehead Hank pressed his right palm down over the ice pack to keep it in place. "Just breathe nice and slow so you can keep your core cool."

"...Y-You keep calling... me 'son'."

"Shh... Stay quiet for a while. You need to rest."

"...L-Lucas is... my brother."

"Hey, didn't I tell you to be quiet for a minute?"

"...Y-Yes."

Chuckling softly at the reply Hank shook his head a little. "Even after all this time you sound so damn naive."

Firm knocking on the front door made Sumo lift up his head and bark once, and then the front door opened.

Without needing to check and see Hank knew it was Abby and called her toward the bathroom down the hallway. "Down here, Abby."

Walking into the bathroom Abby took one look at Connor laying on the floor and practically fell to her knees beside the deviant to check him over. "Man... He's really rough."

"I told you."

"Okay, let's get a quick check on his vitals while I check on his processor." Setting up her laptop on the floor on the other side of Connor's body Abby brought up the diagnostic program and attached a diagnostic cable already connected to the laptop again Connor's glowing L.E.D. to begin the process. "How much Thirium is in the house?"

"Four bottles in the cabinet and one in the freezer."

"Okay, that should work." With the cable secured Abby then pulled out the Thirium pressure cuff from the satchel she wrapped the cuff around Connor's left bicep and waited for it to tighten automatically. Using the display on her laptop to act like a makeshift Thirial activity monitor Abby saw that Connor's core temperature was up to one-hundred and three point three degrees. "Keep up with the ice and get the Thirium from the freezer."

"Right. I'll be back in a minute."

Connor's eyes blinked slowly as he tried to watch Hank leave the bathroom again. "...Hank?"

Abby checked on the Thirium pressure cuff and sighed. "Too low. One-hundred over seventy."

Turning toward the sound of Abby's voice Connor gave her a completely distant and glassy stare. "...Abby?"

"Yup. You're going to be okay, Connor."

"...I'm sick."

"Yeah, I've noticed." Lifting up his eyelids with a ginger touch Abby used a penlight from her satchel to check his pupils while Hank returned to the bathroom with the chilled Thirium in his hand. "Lay still and let us help you."

"...Update?"

"That's the most likely cause for your sickness, we'll figure this out."

Slipping his left hand back under Connor's head Hank lifted the deviant up high enough from the floor to get him to drink the cold Thirium very slowly. "I was checking on info with that new update before he suddenly got sick." Making sure Connor didn't spill the Thirium or choke on it Hank watched as Abby used her audioscope to listen to the sick deviant's chest. "I was reading something about a problem with the thermal regulator thingy with the less advanced models of androids. But Connor's one of the most advanced androids ever created, so that doesn't make sense to me."

"Connor's also a prototype." Abby gave the senior detective a confident glance. "It's possible that his prototyping is causing a problem with the thermal regulator and is the cause of his overheating." Moving the bell over Connor's chest and abdomen Abby tracked the deviant's vitals carefully. "Remember, the gyroscope is near the thermal regulator so if it gets affected by extreme heat it'll cause a sense of dizziness, nausea and shift in his Thirium pressure; hence the emergency expulsion program activating without a viable cause."

"He threw-up a lot before you got here."

"The expulsion program is malfunctioning, which in turn caused him to throw-up an unusually high amount of Thirium." Putting the audioscope aside Abby glanced at her laptop screen as the diagnostic finished. "His heart and lungs are good, so that's something we can be grateful for." Reading over the numbers Abby's hazel eyes narrowed for a moment before she reached over Connor to type in a few manual commands on the laptop. "Okay... Disabling the program to let him sweat.." As the keys were pressed Connor's sweating immediately stopped and the heat radiating from his body began to increase. "Disabling the pigment augmentation program on his artificial skin..." Connor's paleness darkened back to his fair complexion within seconds and the dark bags under his eyes disappeared. "And I'm going to disable the external- Wait, no I'm not."

"Huh? What's up?"

"I can't turn off the enhanced software on his external sensors without the sensors being turned off completely. It'd leave him completely numb and that'd be dangerous for any deviant to experience."

"So, he's going to be stuck feeling everything to the extreme for the rest of his life?"

"Not necessarily. If he gets the hardware removed the software will shut itself down and the enhancement to the sensors will turn off."

"Right." Watching as Connor took in a few deeper breaths and his eyes cleared up Hank gently laid the deviant back down and let him rest. "What went wrong with him?"

"The software was never tested on 'RK' models, not that there were any to be tested on, or prototypes. As a result the new software didn't recognize the usual commands and prompts that tell the functions to turn on or off. I was able to manually deactivate the enhancements that were putting a severe strain on his body; the aesthetics to his skin projection were in constant flux, and being able to sweat means his thermal regulator needs to be recalibrated every passing second as opposed to every thirty minutes, which was drawing a lot of energy away from his other processes."

"He was overwhelmed?"

"Yup. That's about it." Putting her right palm on Connor's sweaty hair Abby smirked a little at the annoyingly human symptom still clinging to his locks. "Now that his thermal regulator can recalibrate periodically instead of constantly it won't overreact to the heat and cold in the air. He just needs to get his Thirium reserve back up to where it needs to be, and he'll recover during his rest mode."

"Thank fuck..."

"Before I go," picking up Connor's left palm Abby gently wiped away the sweat from the wound with a sterilization cloth from her satchel, then proceeded to properly re-bandage it on Hank's behalf under a clean layer of gauze. "I'll help you get his temperature back down so you both can rest easy."

"I appreciate you coming out here while you're still recovering from your own injuries."

"No problem. I just finished reading about the update, and I was really starting to miss work." Finishing up with the gauze Abby put her hand to Connor's left shoulder and helped the deviant to slowly sit upright on the floor. "Connor, you need to rinse off the sweat and change into clean clothes. You don't want that stuff to cling to your skin all night long."

Blinking a few times Connor's eyes cleared up entirely and his red L.E.D. cycled back to yellow for a moment. "...Abby?"

"That's right. Hi."

"...Hello."

"Take a warm but not hot shower, and then drink some Thirium. You'll be just fine."

Letting Abby and Hank help him to stand back up Connor took in a deep breath to keep his head from swimming again. "...Okay."

Hank guided Connor over to the shower and made sure he was able to step over the edge without tripping. "I'll get another plastic bag for your hand. You sit down and let the shower rinse your sweat off."

Moving carefully Connor lowered himself to the bottom of the bathtub and waited for Abby to pack up her satchel and leave the area before pulling off his sweat soaked t-shirt over his head. Awkwardly pulling the curtain shut as well Connor waited for Hank to return with the bag to keep his hand safe.

"Here." Helping Connor out with the bag Hank sighed and gave the deviant a sympathetic stare. "I'll bring ya' some clean clothes. If you need anything else just call us."

"...Thank you, Hank."

"No problem."

From within the livingroom Abby carefully repacked her satchel and noticed Hank entering a bedroom across from the bathroom and then watched him deposit clean clothes in the bathroom before pulling the door shut. Stepping over Sumo carefully Hank joined Abby in the livingroom to join the technician for a moment.

"I know already thanked you, but..."

"It's okay, Hank. I know you're just worried about him." Carefully returning her satchel to her shoulder with the laptop now tucked away inside Abby gave the senior detective a kind smile. "I'd rather be summoned to a house call rather than a funeral."

"Same."

"Just make sure he tops of his Thirium reserve, gets some sleep and does NOT try to reactivate the software that I disabled. It needs a patch or two before it's safe for him to reactivate it fully."

"Right. So do you know all the update's supposed to do?"

"Yup. It'll make his skin respond to his environment more - skin pruning and paling, his sense of touch has been increased to nearly three-hundred percent, his thermal regulator can use special filters to let him sweat in the event of extreme overheating, and it's rumored that prolonged activation of the software will give his body a type of D.N.A. sample as opposed to just a confirmation of his model number and name through filtered Thirium. The D.N.A. can be traced to his plastimetal frame and biocomponents, too."

"Deviants with D.N.A.? What for?"

"Well... Do you remember the peaceful speech Markus gave at the broadcast tower just before the Revolution?"

"Yeah, it was me and Connor who had to investigate the place."

"Perfect. Do you recall Markus making a comment about controlling android reproduction?"

"Whoa, wait... I thought he just meant androids being manufactured weren't going to be sold as property anymore."

"That was phase one. Phase two revolves around deviants having full control over their reproduction options."

"Through making android... babies?"

"THAT type of technology is still decades away. For now deviants can use their bodies for actual reproduction instead of just surrogacy for other humans. If things go right androids can alter donated cells from humans and alter the cells to mirror their own aesthetics, effectively creating biological life through artificial means."

"Wow... That's pretty damn weird."

"What you call 'weird' the deviant community calls 'miraculous'. It's also the reason why so many of the older and prototype models are having a hard time adapting to the software update. It's a lot for their bodies to change in such a short amount of time."

Sitting down on the couch Hank gave Abby a quizzical glance as he watched the technician adjusting the satchel on her shoulder to keep as much of the weight from her ribs as possible. "Are you saying that Connor basically went through the deviant equivalent to puberty today, and his sickness was basically a really nasty case of growing pains?"

"In layman terms... Yeah. That's pretty apt."

"That explains him almost crying when he sliced his palm open and wanting to hide... As long as he doesn't go through mood swings or developing a massive appetite for Thirium I think things will be fine."

"The worst of it is already over. Beyond his newly enhanced external sensors Connor is going to be behaving and responding just as he was before the software update ever happened."

"That's a relief."

The bathroom door opened again as Connor emerged and was promptly met by Sumo as the massive dog rose to his paws. Glancing into the livingroom Connor saw Hank and Abby speaking with one another, and gave them a subtle nod. "...I'm okay. My temperature is down to one-hundred point one degrees already, and my Thirium is holding at eighty-four percent."

Accepting that Connor was stable Abby decided it was time to take her leave. "Then that's my cue to let you two go about your evening. If you still feel sick or weak in the morning call me and I'll come back. Other than that, just drink your Thirium and rest."

"I will do so. Thank you for your help."

"You're welcome, Connor. I'll see you two later."

Hank showed Abby to the door and waited for her to get inside her car before closing the door and locking it behind her. "Glad you're feeling better already, kid."

"Yes, I am as well. Abby managed to disable a majority of the software and now I feel less overwhelmed."

"Go chill in your bedroom and I'll get another thing of Thirium."

Too tired to try to argue or even refute the suggestion Connor just rubbed Sumo's ears and walked into his bedroom to lay down in his bed to sleep. Laying on his left side with his arm tucked under his head Connor let out a soft breath as he tried to relax. Looking up at the opened doorway as Sumo trotted into the bedroom Connor was appreciative of the loyal dog's companionship and patted the side of his bed to invite the dog up.

Sumo settled on the foot of the bed and rested his chin over Connor's ankles affectionately.

"Good boy."

"All right," Hank handed over the bottle of Thirium to Connor to take Hank rubbed Sumo's ears as he spoke. "your hand should be good by morning according to Joel, so just relax and let the rest of your body heal."

"Thank you for being patient with me today. It was very... odd."

"Yeah." Laughing a little Hank put his hands to his hips and watched as Connor slowly drink the Thirium to get his reserve back up. "Today was very odd. I'm just glad you don't need to go to a facility for treatment."

"I'm relieved as well."

"Need anything else?"

"No, I'm okay now." Placing the empty Thirium bottle on the nightstand beside his bed Connor's yellow L.E.D. returned to blue. "Thank you."

"Cool. I'm going to go do some laundry since so many towels got used up tonight. Then I'm going to watch a movie and pass out."

"Please go to bed, Hank. We have to go to work tomorrow."

"Are you seriously wanting to go to work after everything you just went through?"

"Yes. I'm okay, and I want to go back to work tomorrow. I'll be fine."

Proud of Connor's resilience and determination to go back to work Hank didn't even try to dissuade his choice. "Okay then. See ya' in the morning, son."

"...Goodnight, Hank."

Rolling onto his back as the light turned off and the bedroom door was partially pulled shut Connor stared up at the blank ceiling and found himself focusing on the term 'son' yet again. For whatever reason that particular term was suddenly haunting Connor's thoughts, and he couldn't get the concept of being an actual son out of his mind anymore than he could ignore the concept of being a brother to Lucas.

Why did 'son' suddenly bother him?

"...I already have enough problems sleeping at times." Pulling the blue weight blanket up higher over himself Connor closed his eyes and neatly folded his hands over top of his chest in a relaxed manner. "I hope the software update won't make my insomnia worse."

-next chapter-