Roaming the used car lot with a keen focus Connor danced his coin over the back of his right knuckles in mild excitement as he scanned the area in search of the very vehicle that he had honed in on during his search. Eager to pay for the vehicle and return home with it finally in his possession Connor sidestepped the busy salesmen skulking about the lot as he didn't need a sales pitch or a helping hand. He knew exactly what he wanted and he wasn't going to leave without it. The vehicle of interest wasn't the traditional type of vehicle that one would expect a rather introverted person to seek out, and yet Connor was drawn to the curiously intriguing vehicle like a moth to a flame.

Keen eyes and dedication to his choice guided Connor right to the coveted vehicle being displayed inside the lot's showroom floor inside the building. Secured on a display pedestal and under dozens of security measures was the very vehicle that Connor was determined to drive away with. The vehicle itself was actually a motorcycle that Connor had an unexplainable urge to not only purchase, but modify to ensure that it was entirely unique in comparison to anything else in the city.

Eyeing the motorcycle almost hungrily Connor knew it was already his, he just needed to sign the paperwork to take it back home with him.

The motorcycle itself was a Yamaha FJR-1300 ABS. The body was silver in color without a single trace of rust or chipped pain. The chrome exhaust was free of any dents, rust or misalignment, and the black vinyl seats were still fully intact. Despite being over twenty years old the motorcycle was in fantastic shape and ready to be driven right then and there.

Remembering what Hank had told him about having the right to buy things because he wanted them without feeling guilty, and reminding himself that it was okay to do something for himself every so often, Connor had no doubts about his latest purchase. Buying something as useful as a motorcycle wasn't anything to be ashamed of, especially since it'd make it easier for Hank and himself to do their own errands without needing to worry about running the aged Oldsmobile into the ground.

"Excuse me." Addressing the nearest salesman walking nearby Connor nodded at the motorcycle and confirmed that he was going to purchase it. "I would like to speak to someone who can aid me in the paperwork and payments. I've made my choice."

The salesman's eyes lit up and he gave Connor an eager grin. "I'm your man, sir! Join me this way," motioning to a vacant desk against the far wall he led Connor over to where the paperwork would be signed and the payments processed. "and I'll get you the key."

Enjoying the warm weather and taking care of his own errands downtown while Connor was out of the house Hank slipped the official envelope he got from the courthouse into a discreet location on the bookshelf in the livingroom, and promptly made his way back outside to work on the Oldsmobile in the driveway. With only Sumo as his company, the massive fluffy dog rolling about in the thick green grass beside the driveway the entire time, Hank popped the hood of the Oldsmobile to go about his usual routine of checking the old vehicle over for any sign of wear and tear to keep it running as smoothly as possible. As he pulled out the dipstick to check on the oil Hank caught the sound of an approaching motorcycle and looked up in time to see Connor returning to the house with his newest purchase proudly in his hands.

Using an old red rag to wipe over the oil slicked dipstick Hank stepped to the side of the car and watched the deviant pull the motorcycle into the driveway beside the Oldsmobile as if it naturally belonged there. The most entertaining part was watching Connor remove the silver helmet that matched the motorcycle and run his hand through his hair to fix the temporarily smashed down locks back into their usual style.

Staring at the new motorcycle with a faint grin on his face Hank gave the deviant a coy glance. "...You bought a fuckin' motorcycle?"

"Obviously." The comment wasn't sarcastic, just matter-of-fact.

"What made you choose this over a traditional car?"

"...It just felt like the right thing to purchase." Tightening his hands around the handlebars Connor admitted that his purchase was a little strange, but he had no regrets in his final decision. "I can't explain it."

"Well, it looks like it's in good shape." Admiring the silver frame and shining chrome Hank watched as Connor secured the motorcycle to keep it upright in the driveway as he climbed off and pocketed the key. "But do you even have the right license to drive this thing?"

"Of course. As an android my driver's license gives me clearance for any and all vehicles as I can easily download the proper information to handle whatever vehicle I may need to drive."

"...Oh. That's handy."

"I plan on modifying this motorcycle over time." Scanning over the motorcycle Connor began cybernetically filing away a list of necessary replacement parts and tools that'll be required for his future modifications. "It'll run silently, function as a hybrid model and it'll improve the mileage."

"Huh. Mind if I help?" Watching as Connor gave him a skeptical glance with his L.E.D. cycling in blue rapidly Hank casually waved at the Oldsmobile beside them as he explained his reasoning. "I've only ever worked on cars, never a motorcycle. Always wanted to try."

"I suppose that'll be fine. It might be more beneficial to have someone with more experience regarding mechanics aiding my work anyway."

"Cool. When you're ready to get started let me know."

"I will." Returning to the motorcycle Connor shifted it into neutral then manually wheeled it into the garage to keep it out of the harsh summer sunlight. Making sure it'd be out of the way of the Oldsmobile when Hank wanted to put the car back in the garage as well, Connor placed his helmet down on the nearby tool bench to be used later on when he was ready to take it for another drive. "Do you need help with the Oldsmobile?"

"I want to change the oil, test the battery and swap out the spark plugs. Think ya' could jack up the car so I can spare my back a little?"

"Yes, of course." Grabbing onto the jack lift Connor carried it into the driveway and positioned it near the front of the car to heft the car up high enough for Hank to slide under the car to drain the old oil from the engine. After securing the jack Connor gave Hank a somewhat despondent stare as he brought up a relatively touchy subject in hope of gaining some insight. "Hank, can we talk? I mean... It might be weird to discuss, but I'd like your input."

"Sure, kid." Unscrewing the cap on the new bottle of oil Hank set it aside for the moment as he awkwardly slid under the car with the drain pain in one hand and a wrench in the other. It wasn't often Connor was feeling chatty and Hank wasn't about to let the opportunity pass him by. "What's on your mind?"

"...Have you ever felt as though your very existence is just happenstance, or a mistake?"

"Whoa... What?" Peering up at Connor through the small opened spaces around the engine Hank could see the deviant's dour expression on his face even through the tiny openings. Connor hadn't said much after returning from Kamski's residence the day before, but Hank knew it was a tense interaction. "Where did that come from?"

"When Lucas and I were talking with Kamski yesterday we inquired about the origin of our design and he was very cryptic about the answer. He seems to know something about us that we do not."

"I'd wager that ass-wipe is just trying to fuck with ya' since he's rich, bored and is by blood a member of the Reed family."

"No. He was being sincere."

Sliding out from under the car Hank let the old oil drain and decided to pass the time by swapping out the spark plugs next. "If he is hiding something from you then I know you can find it for yourself if you start really looking." Picking up the spark plugs from the tool bench inside the garage Hank carried them back to the car and began swapping out the old plugs for the new. "Why does it bother ya' so much?"

"...It's difficult to explain."

"Try to explain it anyway." Popping out the first old spark plug Hank began the swap with his skilled hands. "I don't judge."

Contemplating his own thoughts and Hank's supportive demeanor Connor tried to put his strange feeling into words. "...It's impossible for me to feel as I currently do, and no matter how I try to wrap my head around how such a feeling can exist I cannot dismiss it as a fluke or confusion from my deviancy."

"Keep talking."

"Despite knowing that what I'm feeling is impossible I swear that I feel as though I've... lived before."

Unfazed by the comment Hank just listened intently as he waited for Connor to keep speaking. "How so?"

"...I don't know. It feels as though everything I've encountered thus far, while interesting due to my deviancy, seem somehow familiar. As if I've been through something similar to it once before. I can't feel anything emotional that connects me to these odd thoughts, but I know that even though these thoughts don't seem to connect directly to my memories I know that they are in fact real."

"I have two theories on this." Finishing with the spark plugs Hank wiped his hands off on the old red rag and gave Connor a curious glance. "Wanna' hear 'em?"

"Yes." Eager for any insight into his own thoughts Connor welcomed the theories. "Please tell me."

"All right." Kneeling down back Hank checked the drain pan under the car and watched as the oil continued to pour out. "My first theory is that you have a bunch of weird memories and other shit locked up in your head because of CyberLife. Those odds thoughts could be the result of those files messing with your memories. Maybe your deviancy is affecting those files and you're just not fully aware of it."

"That's plausible." Admitting that Hank's theory wasn't too farfetched Connor contemplated the idea but wanted to know Hank's second theory as well. "What about your other idea?"

"That one is more human in nature, but..." Glancing up at Connor as he waited for the oil to finish draining Hank answered the question honestly. "to me you just described being an old soul."

"An... old soul?" Such a concept was completely foreign to Connor. "I don't understand."

"You're the type of person who's so calm in the face of danger, completely unfazed by your own physical distress, more focused on what's going on with other people around you than your own life, you want to keep to yourself most of the time, you easily get lost in music and your own thoughts, and you're deeply empathetic and sympathetic to the entire world around you... Basically it means you seem like the type of person who's already lived a full life a couple hundred times and have been reborn just as many times. You've seen it all, done it and felt it all already."

"Reborn?"

"Some humans believe in reincarnation. You know what that is?"

Quickly downloading the information cybernetically Connor familiarized himself with both the term and the concept. "...Yes. I know now."

"Okay, good. Anyway, as a result of that idea a lot of people think it's possible for some people to be born, die and be reborn while keeping some type of their memories or feelings from their past life intact. Since you were able to... you know." Discreetly bringing up Connor's death and transfer of consciousness into his second body without actually saying it Hank raised his eyebrows in a knowing manner. "Maybe that's why you feel like you do. Because you actually went through it before."

"That makes sense to some degree. But I'm still not entirely sure."

"To be fair, no one is sure about anything with life, death, rebirth... Try not to think too much about it."

"I'll try."

"Cool. Now, hand me the wrench so I can put the oil drain plug back in. You can pour in the new oil when I give the word."

Silently Connor passed Hank over the wrench and watched as the senior detective tucked himself down under the car as if completely comfortable with a full ton of weight hovering precariously over his head. It was interesting to see how Hank was fearless in specific situations as well, and in turn Connor truly began to trust Hank as his partner in the precinct, his friend at the house and even as a mentor.

"We head back to work tomorrow." Hank needlessly reminded the deviant as he worked on the car. "Think Tina will be back?"

"...Unknown. I suspect she'll still be taking personal time to tend to Gavin, and in return there will be a temporary replacement in her stead."

"Well, as long as it isn't a cocky rookie who thinks they know it all just because they made it through the academy, then that'll be fine. For a while anyway..."

Even after two days of resting well in his apartment Gavin didn't feel rested at all. Still struggling with his recovery and sense of self Gavin sat on the edge of the bathtub in the quiet bathroom and didn't say a word as Lucas easily cleaned and re-bandaged the healing portion of his remaining left arm. The lingering pain was still intense but Gavin was so angry and lost in thought he barely felt it even when the pain medication faded away or whenever the bandages were changed. Trying to become numb, trying to not look at where his arm had been surgically amputated, Gavin patiently waited for his deviant roommate to finish wrapping up his arm under an impressively gentle touch.

Lucas actively scanned the remaining arm to make sure there was no necrotic tissue or developing infection in the healing flesh, muscle or bone. The steadily healing amputation was a good sign for Gavin on a physical level, but mentally and emotionally he still had a long way to go.

"I have the day off, so I'm going to stay here with you." Finishing with the bandages Lucas gave his friend a kind glance. "Tina will be here at noon as well."

"...I don't need a babysitter."

"You're right, you don't. But while you're hurt and still healing you will need your friends."

"...I only need Aaron right now."

"He couldn't get anymore time of shift changes, he had to return to work today and will work again tomorrow. After that he will return and spend the day with you again." Extending his right hand Lucas offered to help Gavin stand up but the abrasive detective refused the offer, and pushed himself to stand back up on his own despite being exhausted. "...Okay."

Slowly shuffling out of the bathroom on his shaking legs Gavin looked toward his bedroom with a longing gaze, then decided he wanted to go to the livingroom instead. As he walked Gavin could feel Lucas watching his every move but didn't say a word about it. Making his way over to the couch Gavin fell on his right side and stared blankly at the equally blank television screen across the room as if he could turn on the electronic device with just his mind.

"Gavin? You should take a shower and clean off your skin."

"...Don't wanna'."

"Would you like me to give you a sponge-"

"NO. FUCKING. WAY."

The gruff and sudden reply told Lucas that there was nothing he could say or do to change Gavin's mind on the proposition. "...Noted."

"Look, I just want to lay here and not do anything for the next twenty years. Please just... respect that!"

"I've always respected you, Gavin."

Letting out a small sigh Gavin turned his face to bury it into the couch cushion beneath his head as if he could block out the entire world. "...Please. Just give me a minute alone."

"Very well. I'll take this moment to throw your sheets and comforter in the washing machine to ensure you sleep comfortably again tonight."

"...Don't do laundry for me! I'm not a child."

"You're right, you're not. But you are unwell and need to let other people help you until you're well again. It's as simple as that."

"Nothing is sim-" Lucky's cold wet nose pressing against his left ear as she climbed over the back of the couch and greeted her master stopped Gavin mid sentence. Reaching up his right hand Gavin lightly rubbed her ears and promptly had Lucky purring and then laying down on his shoulder to cuddle with him for a while. "...Whatever. Just don't shrink anything in the wash, I'm not in the mood to buy more stuff."

As expected the precinct felt tense and uncomfortable as everyone did their best to go about their business without staring too much at the "new guy" who was speaking with Captain Fowler in the private office just to the side of the bullpen. Gavin's desk was being kept as it was since he last touched it, and Tina made it her personal mission to ensure not a single thing was touched during his absence. There was no definitive answer on Gavin's fate as a detective, and such an answer would be not be given until the end of the month regarding the wounded detective's role in the precinct.

It was never easy to cope when when a fellow detective has been injured and sidelined, but knowing that a detective could forced to take an early retirement was absolutely nerve racking. The cruel reminder of every detective's mortality was enough to shake even the strongest detective to their core.

With everything unusually quiet in the bullpen Hank was able to fully concentrate on his reports and assist Chris with tracking down a potential 'red ice' dealer, and Connor was able to help Tina and the "new guy" pick up the slack due to Gavin's absence. As he slowly spun his coin in a perfect circle on his right index fingertip Connor's blue L.E.D. cycled in yellow twice as he sensed someone watching him from across the bullpen with an intense stare.

Turning to face the staring eyes Connor felt his heart skip a beat as his coin faltered a little without actually falling from his fingertip. "...Skye?"

Wearing a thick and heavy black hoodie with baggie dark jeans Skye looked less like the strong deviant had she become, and more like a homeless deviant hiding out in the slums on the city. The hood was pulled up and over her messy hair that hung in loose strands all around her face, and her hazel eyes were bright in color as she stared intently and silently at Connor. Her arms were crossed guardedly over her chest and her shoulders were slumped deep as if she were trying to shrink away from sight.

Rising from his chair Connor pocketed his coin and noticed that Hank was entirely preoccupied with helping Chris over at the younger officer's desk, and took the opportunity to speak to Skye in a more discreet manner. As he approached the familiar hooded deviant Connor could see her backing up a bit as if suddenly intimidated by him. In return he slowed his walking pace and lowered his voice to a whisper. "Skye, what's wrong?"

"...I..." Speaking up timidly and trailing off Skye forced herself to lock eyes with Connor as tears rolled down her face. "...It's..."

"Let's speak elsewhere." Stepping aside so she could walk freely through the bullpen Connor made sure to walk slowly and at her side rather than behind her as he instinctively knew that Skye had gone through something horribly traumatic, and needed to be handled gently. "There is an interview room that's open just down the corridor. We can talk privately."

Moving as if her legs were coated in concrete Skye slowly made her way toward the isolated room with Connor accompanying her every sluggish step of the way. Entering the room through the sliding door Skye stood beside the long rectangular conference table and turned to face Connor directly as he closed the door behind himself. She was trembling and seemed to be in pain.

"Skye, please talk to me." Keeping his voice low and sympathetic Connor patiently waited for her to respond as he refrained from scanning her. "I know you wouldn't have come here if you didn't have something very important to tell me. I'll listen and I won't judge you, I promise."

Staring at Connor for only a moment longer Skye's tears began to fall faster and she took in shaking breath as a sob escaped her throat. Stepping closer to Connor as if she were unsure if he were real or a hallucination Skye slowly pressed both of her hands to his chest, palms flat over his vest, then curled her fingers into the fabric as her hands tightened into knuckle white fists. Leaning forward Skye pressed her forehead into Connor's chest as she began to cry and shake in abject fear and shame.

Stunned by her behavior Connor slowly raised his own arms as if to hug her, but hesitated as he was unsure if she would tolerate the contact. "S-Skye?"

"...Help me."

Moving his arms to wrap around Skye in a comforting manner Connor pulled the sobbing deviant in for a close hug and let her cry into his chest. Keeping his left arm around her back Connor moved his right palm up to the back of the hood to hold her tight. "...Tell me what happened, Skye. What do you need me to help you with?"

Seeking privacy back at the mansion, his home, Markus changed his casual attire into solid black clothing, and retrieved a small handgun from its locked box located in the back of Carl's old closet. As much as he abhorred violence and always preferred to take a more passive manner whenever possible Markus knew how to use a gun; such a skill being unfortunately showcased during the night of the Revolution at the church, and it was clear he wasn't afraid to use one. Eyeing the small weapon laying on its side in his palms Markus felt the dense weight of the cold steel against his artificial skin. Dragging his right thumb over the side of the gun Markus knew it was loaded with five of six bullets, more than enough to end the miserable lives of the violent humans who harmed and violated eight innocent deviants.

Slipping the gun into the back pocket of his pitch black jeans Markus tightened his belt and looked at the black t-shirt he was wearing in the full body mirror mounted inside his own closet. Grabbing onto a thick black vest that was lined with Kevlar - the body armor being purchased strictly as precaution, Markus secured it around his upper body and over the t-shirt as if he were now a man on a mission.

"Our people deserve justice."

Closing the closet in front of him Markus bowed his head a little as he walked out of his bedroom and trudged across the second floor landing to get to the staircase leading down to the foyer. As he approached the door Markus's right hand hovered over the door handle for a moment as if he needed to stop and think before leaving the safety of the mansion.

"If I do this, if I convince him to help me do this, what will be the final repercussions for everyone else involved?"

Getting revenge against those who harmed North, Skye and the other six deviant refugees would not be the same as getting justice. The men responsible needed to be arrested and tried for the multiple assaults, but North refused to talk about what happened and refused to go to the police. If North was too intimidated to seek help then it was a safe bet to assume the other victims would be just as timid.

"We can't turn our backs on this. We can't just act like nothing happened. We have to fight back."

Letting out a soft sigh Markus grabbed onto the door handle and exited the mansion to begin his self imposed mission.

"I have to fight for North and our people. It's time to fight back for all deviants who have ever been too afraid to stand up and defend themselves."

Feeling physically sick to his stomach Connor listened to Skye's story and saw her memories in all their horrid detail when she connected her mind to his. After learning of her assault and rape in the forest almost ten days prior Connor just held her in his arms as she wept and trembled in fear. Keeping himself calm and composed Connor managed to coax Skye into discreetly leaving the precinct and going to the Zeta Facility for an emergency examination. The length of time between the initial assault and the examination guaranteed that there would be no physical evidence left behind, but in that moment Connor was more concerned with making sure Skye wasn't injured worse than she was admitting, and less interested in collecting evidence.

Standing outside the door to the exam room with his coin rolling over the back of his right knuckles and L.E.D. glowing in a soft yellow Connor patiently waited for the examination to come to an end. It wasn't easy slipping out of the precinct without mentioning Skye's assault, but Connor had gained enough respect and trust from his fellow officers to be able to go about his business without being questioned. That type of trust was greatly appreciated in that very private moment.

Using the provided images from Skye's memories to his advantage Connor began running facial recognition on the three men who assaulted the eight deviants, and tried to find a match. Even with Connor's advanced programming and software such a search would still take some time to finish, but Connor was not one to be deterred so easily.

Startling a little when the door beside him slid open Connor looked at Abby as she exited the room, and the somber look in the technician's eyes told him everything that had gone down was just as severe as it looked. "...Abby?"

"...I couldn't get any D.N.A. or hair samples during my exam." Leaning back against the wall across from Connor the technician gave the deviant detective a look of sorrow, anger and disgust. "The self healing program remedied the physical damage she sustained during the assault, but even after all this time there is no doubt about it. She was raped."

Tensing up as his yellow L.E.D. flashed to red in anger Connor slipped his coin back into his vest pocket and focused on the search for the three men. "...What can you do for her?"

"Beyond the usual access to therapy and being given a safe place to hide until she's ready to face what happened, nothing much. I can ask her to stay here for observation, but I think she'd react to that in a negative way."

"As do I."

"So, what do you want to do?"

"...I want you to please keep that examination filed away somewhere safe and only discuss it with me if it becomes necessary." Looking at the door knowing that Skye was beyond it and still reeling from her assault Connor had to remind himself that smothering her with an urge to protect would only make her feel all the more vulnerable and weak. "...I'm going to speak with her and escort her back to wherever it is she wants to go."

"Connor, I have to know. Where did this happen, and who else was with her?"

"...The forest leading to the hidden refugee camp. She confirmed that seven other deviants were assaulted alongside her, but I cannot legally give you their names or current locations."

"Shit." Rubbing her palms over her tired face Abby looked as if her very spirit had been kicked in the stomach. "...She's been suffering for ten days now. And all alone."

"Shock makes people do illogical things."

"I know. I just... With all those new updates she had performed on her system I'm worried that she might be hiding some other sign of trauma that I can't see yet because of how new the updates are."

The concern made Connor's heart skip a beat again as he began to worry even more for Skye's health. "Is she behaving oddly?"

"In a way. One of the new updates available to deviants is the alternative to eat organic food in place of Thirium as a way to replenish energy. Right now it seems that's all she wants. Thirium is far more effective at restoring energy and she's so tired, but she's refusing to switch back to Thirium."

"Do you suspect she's self harming by ignoring her Thirium needs?"

"No, nothing like that. I'm just worried the physical assault damaged her biocomponents in a way her self healing program can't fix. She's so scared that I could barely touch her, let alone ask her to go into stasis mode so I could perform an exploratory internal examination. I just don't know."

"...I'll speak with her." Showing remarkable patience and compassion Connor mentally steeled his thoughts and emotions for the important task he set before himself. "It may take a long time, but I'll be there for her when she's ready to open and speak about what happened. I'll also try to get her to drink some Thirium before I let her be alone."

"Then what?"

Feigning ignorance Connor gave Abby a focused glance. "What do you mean?"

"What're you going to do to the men who hurt her?"

"...I don't know what you're talking about."

"Connor, I know you well enough to see when you're ready for a fight." The knowing stare in Abby's eyes confirmed that she was very well aware of what the deviant was thinking. "If you're going to go after the men that hurt her please don't do anything that'll bring you back here as a patient, or sabotage your career."

"Some things, some people, are far more important than a career."

"I know that, but you're an important person, too."

"...Please let me know when Skye's ready to leave." Refusing to discuss the matter any further Connor focused entirely on Skye instead. "She might feel more secure with another woman and friend staying close by."

"Of course." Putting on a brave face Abby turned around and faced the doorway before returning to the exam room where Skye was resting. "For what it's worth, if you were to do anything less than... professional," she put a strange lilt to her tone as she spoke. "I'll always be available as a witness for Skye and as a character witness for you."

"...Thank you."

Watching the door open and slide shut again as Abby returned to Skye's side Connor felt his anger mounting, and was struggling to keep it hidden as he replayed the horrible images and sounds in his mind through Skye's own eyes. She fought back as much as she could while telling the men to stop and begged them to leave her alone, but they didn't give a single damn. They laughed in her face, insulted her, abused her and even spit on her before they walked away.

Those men were the most vile and repugnant humans to ever disgrace the Earth.

"...Once Skye is safe I'm going do whatever it takes to make sure she stays safe. I won't fail her."

Indifferently stirring his reheated vegetable soup with a spoon Gavin stared at the copper tinted broth as a few stray slices of carrots and green beans bobbed at the surface slowly under the motion of the gentle whirlpool he was creating. Not feeling hungry but aware that if he didn't eat he'd make himself sick and risk rehospitalization due to his own stubbornness made a halfhearted attempt to eat the soup. Feeding himself wasn't a problem since he was right handed and lost his dormant arm, but it still felt awkward not having both hands to use as he saw fit. He caught himself constantly making a move with his phantom left arm and hand as if he could still pick things up, and every time he internally swore at himself for forgetting that the arm was gone.

Dropping the spoon back into the bowl Gavin leaned back against the couch cushions and rubbed his hand over his hair, his palm quickly feeling how greasy and oily his locks had become from not showering, and let out an exasperated sigh. As if waiting for her cue Lucky leapt up onto Gavin's lap and promptly rubbed against his torso and purred. It was as if the cat he had rescued the previous winter was trying to tell him that everything would be okay.

"...Why are ya' hanging out with me you furry brat?"

Lucky just purred even louder, circled around and laid down on Gavin's lap with zero intention of getting up any time soon.

"You just love me because I buy ya' food and gave you a warm lap to lay on. Huh?"

Giving Gavin adoring round eyes as she looked up at him it seemed like Lucky was listening to his every word.

"You should go hang out with Lucas. He's made of plastic but at least he has all his limbs and isn't so pissed off at the world that it actually hurts..."

Having heard the comment as he walked down the hallway Lucas's blue L.E.D. flash to yellow with sympathy. Pretending to have not heard such a comment the kind deviant returned to the livingroom and tossed a clean purple t-shirt over to Gavin to put on if he wanted. "Tina said your favorite color is purple."

"...So what?"

"Nothing. I just made sure to pick a color you find preferable to wear."

"Wear?" Staring at the purple t-shirt sitting on the cushion beside him Gavin couldn't fathom why Lucas gave it to him. "Why?"

"In case you were feeling cold."

"It's still July." Noting the date Gavin scoffed and grabbed the shirt with his only hand to stare at it with an annoyed glare. "...Missed the fourth again."

"Would you like me to locate a fireworks display or order in barbecue? I understand that such activities are common during that particular holiday."

"No way." Fumbling to pull the t-shirt on over his head, and then fumbling to get his head through his shirt collar, Gavin awkwardly pulled the t-shirt over his left shoulder and then slipped his right arm through the right sleeve before pulling the hem down over his torso to cover up. "...I'm not going anywhere, and I don't want anything."

"...Tina will be here in an hour." Deciding to back off and not push Gavin to do anything he wasn't ready to do while healing Lucas smoothly changed the subject to something more pleasant. "She said she wanted me to try a spicy Thirium dish she saw at the market today."

"Yeah, so?"

"...I don't think I like spicy food."

"And what do you want me to do about it?"

"...Could you talk her out of it?"

Managing a weak chuckle Gavin shook his head and ran his hand along Lucky's side and as she stretched out over his lap and made herself more comfortable in his presence. "I can't change Tina's mind on anything." As he pet Lucky softly Gavin noticed that the cat was putting on weight and sighed. "Hey, stop feeding Lucky so much! She's gettin' fat."

"I'll be sure to restrict her diet from now on. I'll also keep her off the balcony."

"The balcony?"

"Yes. She was curious about the birds roosting out there, and I let her out a few times to explore the area."

"Don't do that, man."

"Why not?"

"Sometimes cats wander away and not everyone is nice to 'em. I don't want her to get hurt. Besides," looking down at the purring bundle of fluff Gavin sighed and moved his hand to her chin in a gentle manner. "she could be gettin' fed by other people. I don't want her putting on weight or gettin' lazy."

"Very well, from now on I'll refrain from letting her on the balcony. Would you like me to reheat your soup so you can have your lunch now?"

"...No, it's fine. I'm not that hungry."

"Perhaps later then." Doing everything he could to avoid a confrontation Lucas remained patient and very agreeable. "I do know that tomorrow Aaron is going to stop by and spend the day with you while I'm at work. You'd probably prefer his cooking over mine, anyway."

"You got that right. You need to learn the smoke detector isn't the same as a kitchen a timer!"

"I only had that problem once. I also aired out the apartment and cleaned up my mess."

"And what about you using every spice and seasoning in a single dish?"

"I was experimenting with flavors." Defending his previous cooking experiences to the best of his ability Lucas explained himself casually. "They all seemed delectable."

"Yeah, separately! Puttin' them all together is just asking for your stomach to rebel..."

"Noted. Maybe I should ask Aaron for lessons in how to cook."

"You better pay him, too." Feeling protective toward his boyfriend even over the most trivial matters seemed to give Gavin the fire he needed to start fighting back and getting better. He undoubtedly had someone to fight for after all. "...The guy's too good for this fucked up world."

Taking his time and walking as slowly as Skye wanted Connor escorted the traumatized deviant to her current residence to ensure that she felt as safe as possible. Rather than taking Skye to an android shelter, an android apartment complex or even over to New Jericho Tower on the other side of the city, Connor found himself escorting to Skye to a large library that had its second floor remodeled into a private living quarter for rent. The building was two stories high, constructed from brick and marble, and had stood the test of time for over one-hundred years even as technology made the concept of using or keeping physical books all the more difficult and illogical.

Entering the library through the large glass double doors at the top of the concrete steps Connor glanced about the main floor curiously, noting the lack of human occupants and the presence of a single deviant librarian keeping track of the guests coming in and out of the building. The librarian also doubled as a landlord and seemed to be eyeing Connor suspiciously as he escorted Skye over to the door concealed within a decorative marble pillar that held the single spiral staircase leading up to the second floor, and to where Skye resided in private.

"I was unaware that you were living in a local library." Whispering on instinct Connor spoke to Skye in a discreet manner as he glanced about the open area and admired the hundreds of bookshelves containing thousands of aged books. It was a shame more people weren't there to enjoy the scene as well. "This is very... unique."

"...This way." Using her right hand Skye unlocked the doorway electronically with a hidden control panel, and began walking up the staircase slowly. "...Watch your head."

Connor trailed after Skye and ducked his head down as warned to avoid bumping his head on the low hanging ceiling above the staircase. After reaching the second floor Connor glanced about the opened loft space and was a little jealous of the large tinted windows giving Skye a clear view of the harbor in the distance. The floor of the loft was hardwood oak with small area rugs placed about, exposed brick for the walls and there was a large brown sofa bed against the wall opposite the windows neatly folded up with two large brown throw pillows resting atop the cushions. A matching brown quilt was neatly folded up over the back of the sofa out of the way.

"Skye?" Watching as the shaking deviant walked over to the couch to lay down Connor knew that she was still feeling very unwell and scared. "Are you sure you'll be safe here?"

"...It's fine."

Letting out a soft sigh Connor approached the windows and glanced at the sandy shore and the harbor far below. Anyone on the second floor could see outside, but those outside on the harbor were unable to see inside. "How did you find this place?"

"...I explored the city and came here because it's quiet and very few humans come around."

"I see." Turning to face Skye again as she laid over the couch Connor noticed that there was an impressive stack of hardcover books sitting on the floor beside the sofa with numerous bookmarks protruding from various sections of the yellowed pages. The books had a single recurring theme that immediately caught Connor's eye. "You're reading up on law?"

"...Yes." Burying her face against one of the two throw pillows Skye answered the question honestly. "...I want to help our people and I decided that I could do more if I was more well versed in the law and our rights."

"That would be beneficial knowledge to have. Would you like me to bring you some law textbooks from the precinct?"

"...No. I have plenty to read."

"Y-Yes, of course you do." Walking over to the sofa Connor knelt down beside the furniture and stared at the small amount of Skye's face still visible between her hood and the pillow. She seemed so sad and broken, her L.E.D. was glowing an angry red and seemed incapable of changing color. "Please talk to me. Do you need anything at all?"

"...Just quiet and isolation."

"There's something bothering you beyond what you- I don't mean to pry, but I can sense it."

"...Sense it?"

"A gut instinct, my intuition. I've been taught that trusting my feelings is the key to succeeding in my life." Refraining from touching Skye's shoulder as much as he wanted to comfort her, to hold her in his arms and protect her from the angry world, Connor was determined to respect her wishes and her boundaries. "I know we're not close or really even... friends, but I do care about you. I want to help you."

Lifting her eyes a little Skye looked at Connor and let more tears roll down her face and disappear into the thick fabric of her hoodie's collar. "I know you do, Connor. I just..."

"What?"

"...It's too complicated."

"Then talk to me and I'll help you simplify it."

"...You can't." Laying back down against the pillow Skye rolled onto her opposite side to present her back to Connor as she curled around herself. "...Please, just let me be alone. I don't want to talk about what happened anymore."

"...I understand." Standing back up Connor reached for the quilt on the back of the sofa and briefly shook it out before draping it over Skye to keep her warm and covered up. The gesture was one that Connor had been appreciative of in the past when he wasn't feeling well and he hoped the same comfort could be shared with Skye. "If you need anything at all just contact me. I'll come running."

Sniffling as she hid herself from the world and under the quilt Skye didn't say a word.

"I promise I'll be there for you for any reason you may have. Rest well."

Crossing the loft as quietly as possible Connor returned to the staircase and ducked down again as he began his decent and exited the staircase back onto the first floor. Making sure the hidden doorway in the pillar slid shut behind him and locked properly before stepping away. Briefly making eye contact with the librarian Connor silently communicated that he was an ally to Skye, not a threat in any capacity.

Trying and failing to hold his head high as the weight of Skye's pain ached his own heart Connor stepped out of the library and out onto the sidewalk. Peering up at the exposed brick wall of the second floor that contained the loft Connor sighed to himself, and began his slow and morose walk back to the precinct to resume his shift as normally as possible.

Preparing himself for an inevitable and possibly very heated discussion Markus stood outside the parking garage neighboring the precinct and waited for Connor to eventually return. Being informed by Pamela in the reception area that Connor had stepped out earlier that morning to a location unknown limited Markus's opportunity to meet with the deviant detective, but also gave him the chance to speak with Connor directly outside the precinct on what would be considered neutral ground. Unsure of what to say or how to say it Markus paced about the area anxiously as he awaited the deviant detective's return before pleading for his help.

Glancing at the passing people on the sidewalk, an equal blend of humans and deviants going about their own business, Markus could feel himself beginning to worry that someone would report him for his odd behavior, or worse, report Connor. Torn between asking for Connor's help and wanting to take matters into his own hands Markus stopped pacing and turned on his heels to take his leave of the area, and retreat to the mansion for a moment.

As he turned around to leave Markus stopped short and locked his mismatched eyes with Connor himself as the deviant detective approaching the precinct, only to stop dead in his tracks at the sight of Markus. Forcing himself to speak up first Markus acknowledged Connor's presence in a calm tone. "...Connor, I need to speak with you."

Flashing Markus an annoyed sneer Connor shook his head and took a step forward to walk past the deviant standing before him. "We have nothing to talk about. Unless you have official business here I must ask you to leave."

"I need to report a crime! Please," extending his right arm Markus tried to keep Connor from walking away from him. "you're the only one who can help."

Stopping only because he didn't want to touch Markus's arm Connor glared angrily at the intrusive deviant. "There's plenty of cops in the city. Find one you didn't shoot to help you."

"Connor... Please." Refusing to back down Markus continued to ask for his assistance. "This is something only you can help me with."

"Why me? There are other cops in the city you can talk to, and there are other people who currently need my help."

"...Because this crime was committed against North, and you're the only detective that she'd be even remotely willing to trust. She's actually afraid right now."

As much as he wanted to keep walking away Connor couldn't just let such a claim go without investigation. "...What're you talking about?"

Lowering his voice Markus told Connor only what he needed to say. "She was attacked and she was..." Trailing off briefly Markus moved his right arm so he could offer Connor his hand and retracted his artificial skin to give Connor a view into his mind. "...Just look."

The way Markus was speaking and the desperation behind every word was all Connor needed to know regarding the crime. Choosing cybernetic discussion over verbal communication Connor finally took full notice of the comment. 'This is about her being attacked in the forest, isn't it?'

'Yes.' Lowering his hand Markus confirmed the question as he too spoke cybernetically. 'Ten days ago. You already know what happened to her?'

'...She wasn't the only one who was attacked. I'm helping one of the victims as of right now.'

'North showed me what she went through.' Reactivating the skin over his previously exposed right palm Markus thought about how scared North was, and how she was left practically a shell of her former self. 'She won't talk to the police or seek treatment for her trauma.'

'...Then maybe you should let her be alone to think and heal. Everyone handles trauma differently, you should know this.' The bite behind his words was palpable. 'Empathy and patience should be behind your every action.'

'This isn't about me trying to force North to do something she doesn't want to do. This is about getting her and the other victims justice.'

Sensing the abrasive tone behind Markus's claims Connor knew that regardless of his answer or decision Markus was going to do something rash. '...What do you want to do about what happened?'

Staring silently at Connor for just a moment Markus forced himself to admit his meticulously contemplated plan. "...Revenge."

-next chapter-