The fateful day of Richard Perkins trial was finally at hand. The courthouse was packed with witnesses, reporters and photographers who were being barred or cleared by responding police officials as they did their best to contain the madness swarming outside the building. Such a controversial case had gathered a mass of people who were all for the man being held accountable for his actions to the most severe punishment of the law available, and disturbingly enough there was an equally large mass of people who believed that Perkins was not only innocent, but that the deviants he slaughtered were never alive. As expected two such conflicting groups of people standing outside the singular secured location brought about a heavy tension that put every citizen on guard.

Unable to go to the courthouse due to their personal nature in the case Connor and Hank sat at their desks in the bullpen, and stared at one of the four large televisions mounted high up on the walls surrounding the bullpen to keep up to speed on what was happening downtown. The blonde news anchor standing before the courthouse was talking to a colleague inside the courthouse standing just out the doors of the courtroom, but the details being given were sparse and uninformative.

"To be a fly on the wall right now..." Hank lamented as he shifted his weight in his creaking chair to get more comfortable. "Normally, I'm not one for gossip, but I want to hear anything about what's happening right now."

Offering a modest solution Connor sat at his own desk and watched the television with an unblinking gaze. "I could ask for the deviant stenographer in the courtroom for an update if you'd like."

"How do you know the stenographer is a deviant?"

"All stenographers are deviant." Giving Hank a focused stare Connor explained things in an almost casual sense. "It's far more effective and reliable to have deviants with flawless memories and dexterity recording the trials, as opposed to humans who can make mistakes or mishear important details."

"Makes sense to me."

The reporter outside the courthouse confirmed that the trial was about to begin and that the channel would show a live broadcast of the trial from beginning to end. It seemed like every interested eye in the city was watching the trial one way or another. Hopefully the intense interest of the case would keep crime to an absolute minimum, but there was no guarantee of anything in the crazy city.

Patting his left palm atop his desk twice Hank looked over at Captain Fowler's office and could see the seasoned detective also watching the television through the transparent walls of his office. "You know what? Fuck it." Standing up from his chair Hank walked into the breakroom, rummaged through one of the cupboards and found a bag of instant popcorn. "Moments like this require junk food."

Connor noted that Hank was making himself an impromptu snack, and refrained from informing the senior detective that the lightly buttered popcorn was actually far healthier compared to his other choice snacks back at the house. As he returned his focus to the television screen Connor took notice of someone he had never seen before making their way into the bullpen after accepting a visitor's clearance pass from the receptionist desk, and began watching him instead.

Eyeing the man Connor's database told him that the man, who was now sixty-two years of age, was of great importance and that he was a semi-celebrity in some circles of the world. Slim in build and of a rather tall at six foot two inches in height, the man had a faint scar running vertically along his right cheek, and his previously dark brown hair had lightened and had a generous amount of gray streaks running through the aged locks. The man's blue eyes were alert yet fatigued from a long life of hectic work, and sweeping over the bullpen as if looking for someone in particular.

It didn't take long for the man to notice Connor sitting at his desk, and made a beeline right to the deviant in a completely docile manner. "Hello." The man's accent had a slight Bostonian lilt that made his voice stand out. "I'm looking for Sergeant Connor Wolf."

"That is me." Standing upright from his chair Connor politely extended his right hand to shake with the visitor. "May I ask who you are?"

"Oh, right." Pulling his badge out of his back pocket the man showed his credentials and introduced himself properly. "I'm F.B.I. Director Norman Jayden. I'm here because of the trial of former agent Richard Perkins, and I was hoping to speak with the deviant who ensured his sorry ass was fired and locked up."

The revelation made Connor's blue L.E.D. turn to yellow. "...I see."

"Hey, I'm on your side." Offering a kind smirk Norman slipped his badge back into his pocket and happily shook Connor's hand before the deviant lowered his grip back to his side. "The prick deserved it."

"...Norman Jayden." The L.E.D. in Connor's right temple cycled through a trifecta of colors for a moment before returning to a calm blue. "You're the agent who led the infamous 'Origami Killer' case in Pittsburgh Pennsylvania in October of 2011."

"That's right. That case was the last one I worked in the field before I was promoted, and happily worked on cases from the safety of my desk."

The smell of freshly popped popcorn accompanied Hank as he exited the breakroom and carried the opened bag of steaming popcorn back into the bullpen. He took one look at Norman, popped some of the popcorn into his mouth, and then looked at Connor. "Who's your friend, kid?"

"This if F.B.I. Director Norman Jayden."

"Wait..." Turning his attention back to the older agent Hank eyed him curiously. "Why do I know that name?"

"Not to brag or anything," Norman replied with a slight grin. "but did you ever read up on the 'Origami Killer' when you were in the police academy?"

"Nope. I read about it as it happened in the news just after I graduated."

"Close enough."

"So, what brings you by? Tell me you're not going to try to kiss our asses and let that Perkins cocksucker go with only a slap on the wrist."

"That's a given. I'm actually here to ensure he's burned alive before the city." Tilting his head a little Norman gave Connor a simple nod. "Metaphorically of course."

"...Of course."

"Can we speak in private for a moment?"

Hank put his popcorn down on his desk and gave Ben a silent warning when he noticed the other detective eyeing the snack hungrily. "Sure. The interview rooms are all vacant."

Walking behind Hank and beside Norman as the senior detective led the way, Connor was grateful that Hank chose interview room 'B' instead of 'A'. As the trio entered the room Connor locked the sliding door behind them and stood with his back to the door as if needing to stand guard.

"So..." Norman began rather casually as he pulled back a chair and readily sat down as if he had been eager to get off his feet for a while. "You're the deviant that finally showed the world how arrogant, dangerous and insufferable Perkins really is. Kudos!"

"...I suppose that's accurate." Unsure of the visit and wary of anybody representing the F.B.I., Connor answered in short and logical sentences.

"It's not a secret that Perkins is a reckless bastard. I think Washington sent him off to Detroit last year to try to get him out of their hair, and were expecting him to just write up a report about the deviant situation as nothing more than a bunch of paranoid and angry people freaking out over a glitch. Turns out we were wrong and underestimated the severity of the situation. For that, I'm sorry."

Stunned by the apology Connor was unsure of how to respond. "...Sorry?"

"We didn't give the situation last year the full attention it deserved. We sent the wrong person to lead the investigation and now... Well, everyone around him is paying an unfair price."

Hank was just as mistrustful as Connor was and he wanted to press Norman for more details. "You flew all the way out here from Washington D.C. just to apologize to Connor for what that prick did last year, and then you're going to go to the courthouse and ream him publicly. Is that right?"

"Essentially, yeah." Norman was impressively empathetic and laidback for someone who worked within the F.B.I., and it was very unusual to experience. "I'm less than three years from retirement, and I'd like to leave with a clear conscience."

The desire to rid oneself of guilt was something Connor could wholly relate to. "...I understand."

"To ensure that Perkins is as efficiently dragged through the mud and sodomized by lady justice, I just want to get a few more details from the deviant who set this crazy case into motion. Do you mind?"

"...No, I can talk."

Norman watched as Connor sat down in the chair across from himself, Hank sitting down beside the deviant, and could tell that Connor was far from the 'hostile', 'unpredictable', 'malicious' or 'deranged' deviant that Perkins tried to paint him as in the official report to the F.B.I. from the year prior. "Your name is Connor, and since you deviated you legally took on the surname of 'Wolf', correct?"

"Yes. That is correct."

"Got a middle name?"

"No. I just use 'J' as a means of filling in the blank."

"Just like Harry S. Truman. No middle name, just a middle initial." Pulling his phone from his black jacket pocket Norman placed it down on the table, set up an app and pressed 'record' to take take Connor's statement in its full honesty. "Remember, this is entirely elective. If you don't want to talk anymore just let me know and I'll be on my way."

"I'm sure it'll be fine. What do you want to know?"

"Everything. The Raid, the night of the Revolution and every other encounter you had with Perkins prior to him trying to run you down."

An hour of heartbreaking details were given to Norman as Connor forced himself to recount every painful detail of the night of the Raid. Speaking about that night, the story of CyberLife's influence being left out for the sake of keeping the full focus on Perkins, had left Connor feeling vulnerable and even shaking. Making sure to include Perkins's lackluster performance at the Stratford Broadcast Tower as well - detailing how Perkins's own men failed to detect the deviant who allowed the sabotage and broadcast of the tower was still in the tower's kitchenette, of how the deviant assaulted and nearly killed Connor under their very noses, and of how Connor was the one responsible for stopping the deviant before he had the chance to hurt anyone else. During that dire moment Perkins was nowhere to be seen.

"Bastard..." Finishing his notes Norman gave Connor a truly apologetic look as he listened to the deviant's every word. "That tool had the nerve to say he was checking out the crime scene on the rooftop at the time of the incident, but from your statement and from us looking into the tower's security footage, we can confirm that he was down in the lobby barking orders at the receptionists like they were a part of his team."

Having finished his statement Connor looked like a child sitting in the principal's office and waited for another response. "...What's going to happen now?"

"I'm going to send this back to my team in Washington," Norman stated in a professional and calm demeanor. "they'll use it as the stepping stone to begin charging Perkins with genocide during the trial, and then we'll watch him crash and burn." Sensing the tension radiating from Connor's person Norman tried to ease the deviant's conscience. "Hey, don't feel responsible for whatever happens to Perkins. Shitty people get themselves fired, and criminals get themselves arrested. You didn't do anything wrong."

"...Yes, I'm aware."

"Uh, you know..." Norman sent a quick text on his phone and sent the recorded interview to his team in Washington, then returned his focus on Connor. "I'd like to chat with you a little more if you don't mind. It's not about the case or anything, I just want to know a little more about the deviants directly. It's hard to get a solid read on someone, let alone an entire community, if you're just reading what the news and magazines gossip about."

"That would be... fine. I can talk."

Picking up on Connor's hesitation Hank patted Connor's shoulder and gave him a rather unusual order. "You worked your ass off handling that counterfeit Thirium ring last week, so go take an extended break and show Norman here the city. At least the places that won't get him killed."

"But I-"

"Need to take a break." Cutting off the deviant Hank shook Connor's shoulder and emphasized his point. "Go on. Nothing's gonna' happen anyway because of the trial. And if something does pop up I'll text ya'."

Norman waited for Connor to agree and slipped his phone back into his jacket pocket. "This is one-hundred percent an honest, one detective to another, type of discussion. No case, no evidence and no catches. I just want to know what the deviant community is all about so I can make sure the F.B.I. develops a proper division before I retire."

Deciding that it'd be best for his people if he were to agree to the discussion Connor nodded once and rose from his chair. "Very well. We can talk."

"Thanks. Much appreciated."

September had greeted the city with a chilly breeze that was a welcomed change after the intense summer heatwave nearly smothered the city for almost four consecutive months. Despite Connor volunteering to pay the fare for an autonomous cab to take them around the city, Norman insisted on walking as he wanted the chance to experience Detroit rather than just see it. Walking side by side toward Hart Plaza on the chilly day Connor showed Norman to the very epicenter of the Revolution, and of where the recycling camps had been set-up by Perkins to exterminate deviants without mercy or true just cause.

Standing inside the plaza along the Detroit River the two detectives stared out over the watery border dividing the United States of America from Canada, and eyed the beautiful skyline in the distance. While Canada hadn't reversed their stance on barring immigration of deviants entering the country, they had shown mercy to those who fled to the country during the Revolution and granted them sanctuary until they could have arrangements made for them back in Detroit.

"So, this is where everything went down." Norman sighed as looked out at Canada and then turned back to face the plaza behind him. The small sculptures and peaceful atmosphere was a stark contrast to what had happened on that fateful night. "I wonder, how many deviants made it over the border after everything went to hell?"

Connor stared out over the water and thought about his final conversation with Kara in the church just prior to being shot by Markus. He still felt guilty for chasing her from the hotel and risking her and Alice's lives when they crossed the busy highway to escape him. "...I know of at least one who tried to make it across the border. I hope she did it, I hope she's safe."

"Is she a friend of yours?"

"...No. Just someone I realized deserved the chance to live without fear. She was risking her own life to protect a little girl, and I almost ruined it for her."

"A *human girl?"

"Yes." Standing beside the protective railing overlooking the water Connor closed his eyes and felt a strange welling of guilt fill his heart. "The girl's father was physically abusing her. The deviant was bought as the house's caretaker. She deviated and fled with the little girl in order to save her life, and my original assignment was to stop deviants. I'm glad I failed..."

"Androids willingly taking care of humans and protecting them. Funny."

The lack of reaction to Connor's admission of hunting deviants left him feeling perplexed. "...Funny?"

"Yeah." Leaning his back against the metal railing behind him Norman gave Connor an admittedly ashamed look. "A lot of the humans, especially the rich and entitled, are convinced androids only protect humans because they're following orders. That's why they hate and fear deviants so much. A deviated android, one who can think for themself, isn't going to protect a human who is abusing them. They're going to fight back."

"...A victim fighting back against a bully takes away the bully's power."

"That's right. Hard to believe it's the tactics we learn from grade school that are often the most insightful."

"I wouldn't know. I never went to school."

"Sorry about that. You just seem so human, I forgot I was talking to a deviant."

"No apologies are necessary." Taking in Norman's appearance a second time Connor noticed the same nose and jawline as a familiar officer, and did a deeper look into his background. Norman was unmarried but seemed to have a long term partner named Desmond, and has two children to his name. A daughter and a son born in 2013, two years after the successful closure of the 'Origami Killer' case. "...May I ask you a question?"

"Go for it. I've been asking you questions all morning long, it's only fair you ask a few in return."

"...It's about Noreen."

"Oooh." Laughing a little Norman flashed Connor a smug smile. "Should've known you've met the pride of life."

"I have. She's actually partnered up with my brother at the Eastern Precinct."

"You have a brother?"

"Yes. It's a long story, but he is the only 'RK-900' in existence. His name is Lucas."

"Lucas Wolf?"

"No. Blake."

That particular last name made Norman wince for a moment. "Oof."

"Is that a problem?"

"I had to work alongside a hotheaded Lieutenant by the name of Carter Blake when I worked on the 'Origami Killer' case, and we did NOT get along."

"That is unfortunate."

"Yeah, well, what's done is done. Anyway, what did you want to know about Noreen?"

"I was just wondering about her parentage and family in general."

"Her mother and I were very good friends and we both wanted families to be proud of. Problem is I'm gay, and it's just a pain in the ass to deal with adoption, or even surrogacy, or that kind of stuff, so..."

"You slept with your friend to be parents without any romantic interests whatsoever?"

"You got it. Lo and behold, she ended up with beautiful twins. Noreen and her brother Jermaine." Speaking of his children prompted Norman to pull his wallet from his pocket and show Connor a worn-out, but still perfectly visible photograph of Noreen and Jermaine as infants shortly after they were born. "I knew I'd never experience another day of sorrow with those two in my life."

Dropping his eyes away from the photograph Connor's jaw ticked and his right hand went for the quarter in his pocket. As he began dancing the coin over the back of his knuckles Connor listened to Norman as he went on to talk about his family.

"Their mother and I, while good friends, simply weren't drawn to each other romantically." Walking away from the plaza Norman watched a police drone fly by overhead, and head toward the courthouse just a few blocks away. "We raised them together until they were out of diapers, then took turns having the kids over at our own places so we could spend equal time bringing them up. Noreen was always daddy's girl, and Jermaine became a bit of a mama's boy; but I have a great relationship with both of them. I'm so proud of my children."

"...They don't share your surname."

"No. That was a decision on my part since, you know, high profile name of authority can create a lot of enemies. I didn't want to possibly risk their lives because someone might try to take revenge against me by hurting them. When Noreen said she was going to enter the police academy I was so proud of her, but also terrified. Now that I know she's kicking ass and taking names in her own way I know I have nothing to fear beyond the usual worries that come from being a father."

The delicate subject made Connor's L.E.D. flash from blue to yellow for a moment. "...I wouldn't know about that, either."

"Man, I am just being a bit of downer with you. I'm sorry again."

"It's okay. You can't possibly know these things beforehand." Taking notice of the scar on Norman's face Connor wanted to ask about it, presuming it to be from an injury sustained when he physically fought against Scott Shelby, the 'Origami Killer' himself, but refrained from doing so. "You stated that you're here to ensure that Perkins receives the maximum punishment and doesn't elude the law. Is that actually a risk?"

"Anything's a risk when it comes to the law." Holding up his left hand Norman tried to block out the brightening afternoon sun as they walked away from the plaza and toward downtown. "Since the mayor is also being held accountable for his misdeeds I just decided that my presence would be enough to keep people from trying anything shady to get either man off the hook. Hard to cheat when the teacher's looking over your shoulder."

"...That's appreciated."

"For what it's worth, even if he hadn't try to kill you with his car, Perkins still would've been put on trial before the end of the year."

Stopping the coin mid dance Connor tilted his head a little in curiosity as he and Norman reached the next block and stepped further away from the chaotic courthouse just a few blocks behind them. "The F.B.I. was already building a case against him?"

"Yeah. The idiot was already greatly disliked for his attitude problem and sloppy work, so we were working on a solid case to get him out and keep him from trying to fight back. When he tried to cover up his son's crimes that was the breaking point. We started moving faster and we managed to get his ass fired. We had no idea he'd come back to Detroit and try to take out his anger on you, though."

"...He was actually aiming to kill my brother and not me, but I understand your point."

"I read about that case. I read that a detective Lucas Blake had taken the lead, I didn't know he was your brother until you just mentioned it. Anyway," walking alongside Connor without a single worry Norman lowered his hand as they passed through a shady spot under increasingly orange trees. "it turns out Perkins sent his kid to school in this city because he figured he had enough sway with all the cops that he could give his son a free pass through everything. He was wrong."

"Clearly."

"After his son was expelled, sent to prison and had his life ruined, we fired Perkins for his gross attempted abuse of power. He tried to argue that we would've done the same thing for our kids, blah, blah, blah... Then when we showed him all the other stuff we had stacked against he had a bit of temper tantrum and went home. The last I heard of him while he was back in D.C., his wife was filing for divorce, and she had put their house up for sale."

"You lost track of Perkins?"

"He knew how to disappear for a while, not forever. I think that's why he chose to drive his own car instead of using a rental for his attempted homicide." Stepping back into the sunlight Norman shielded his eyes again and Connor redirected him toward a new area of the city to explore. "Arrogance kept him in Detroit because, again, he figured he had some pull with the cops and could hide in plain sight."

"Perkins seemingly forgot that the very people he sought to exterminate still live in this city and know his face. He couldn't hide for long."

"And in the end he threw his ass into the fire while trying to cower and hide. Like I said, he was a terrible agent."

"Director Jayden, I've noti-"

"Norman, please. Just call me Norman."

"Norman, then." Connor continued his original train of thought while he escorted the director through the city. "I've noticed you seem to have some sensitivity to the light. Do you require any protective eye-wear?"

"Oh, no. This is, uh... How about we find a place to sit and chat for a moment?" Giving Connor a sheepish glance Norman stopped walking and waited for Connor to respond. "Know of any place to get a quick bite to eat?"

Actively avoiding the 'Chicken Feed' food stand for numerous reasons Connor located a nearby diner that offered meals to humans and deviants alike. "Yes, it's just two blocks West of our location."

"Perfect. You lead and I'll buy."

Sitting at his desk Hank continued to snack on his popcorn as he watched the trial live on the television with a hypnotic stare. Having caved in and given Ben a share of the popcorn Hank stared at the screen and tried to withhold the smirk of seeing the smug bastard known as Richard Perkins sitting next to his budget level, court appointed defense attorney, with no support behind him whatsoever. After Perkins had been dismissed by the F.B.I. and had a damning amount of evidence stacked against him brought to light, it was just a matter of time before the coldhearted and disgraced agent was sent to prison for the rest of his miserable life.

Too focused on the case to get any lunch Hank was more than happy to let the popcorn placate his hunger for now. Finishing off the remaining popcorn from the bottom of the bag Hank dropped the now empty bag in the trash can beneath his desk, then wiped off the buttery grease onto his jeans.

"Try using a napkin sometime, Hank." Captain Fowler appeared behind the senior detective, then sat down in Connor's vacated chair as he too resumed watching the trial on the television against the wall. "Or wipe your hands off on those ugly-ass shirts you insist on wearing."

"Didn't realize you were demoted to the 'fashion police'. My condolences, Jeffrey."

Ignoring the retort Captain Fowler quickly took notice of the curiously absent deviant detective. "Where's Connor?"

"Out."

"I can see that. Where did he go?"

"Don't know."

"Why are you always so damn difficult?"

"For kicks."

"What about that F.B.I. director? Did he ever show up and ask his questions?"

"Norman was here earlier. He's with Connor."

"Do I dare ask why?"

"He wanted to know about deviants and Connor decided to entertain the question. Relax, Connor isn't going to do anything to fuck up the trial." Smiling as the prosecution brought forth their first piece of evidence against Perkins the senior detective felt a smug sense of satisfaction fall over him. "Not that there's really anything that could derail the trial whatsoever."

"I know that, I just preferring knowing where my officers are more." Leaning back in the chair Captain Fowler sighed and noted the time on the bottom right corner of the television's screen. "If I order in a pizza will you split the bill?"

"Sure. Hey, Ben?" Glancing at the third detective sitting at his own desk a few feet away Hank checked in with him as well. "Want in a on a pizza?"

"When have I ever said 'no' to pizza?" He too had finished off the popcorn and was ready for lunch. "Put down an extra order of garlic knots and I'll be sure the delivery kid is tipped handsomely."

"Deal."

Sitting in a booth in the back of the small diner Connor stared at the small order of Thirium-based french fries with a strange trepidation while Norman enjoyed his club sandwich ravenously. While he didn't necessarily have any appetite as his Thirium reserve wasn't low Connor didn't want to look too out of place. As he stirred a fry through a small puddle of blue tinted ketchup Connor cybernetically tapped into the news broadcast regarding the trial and listened to the other patrons of the diner gossiping about the same subject.

Norman was watching the time closely on his phone but otherwise seemed entirely relaxed. Finishing off his lunch he leaned back in the booth's seat and studied Connor's face closely. He knew when an officer was preoccupied with an assignment and he knew when an officer needed a quick distraction.

"You were asking about my eyes earlier." Speaking up almost matter-of-factly Norman watched as Connor's brown eyes focused on his face. "Are you familiar with a rather outdated technology known as A.R.I.?"

"Yes. The Added Reality Interface. It had been used in training programs regarding risky scenarios without actually putting the trainees in danger. It was also the basic program used in the forensics software that Lucas and I can use when performing investigations in the field, and it allows us to perform realtime forensic analyses."

"Do you know it was discontinued in training programs?"

"Yes. The technology was known to have addictive tendencies on the humans who were exposed to such artificial realities for a prolonged period of time. Those who became addicted suffered from intense headaches, nausea and fever as if in withdrawal from a narcotic." Sitting back in his seat Connor noted the after effects of such an affliction and of its subsequent treatment. "Those who became affected by the A.R.I. used a potent drug known as Triptocaine to combat the symptoms of withdrawal from the A.R.I., however Triptocaine was equally addictive and destructive with far more severe side effects of its own withdrawal. Namely hallucinations, nose bleeds, tachycardia, anxiety, vision disturbances and even death in the most severe cases."

"Right. I was once an addict."

The confession made Connor's blue L.E.D. flash in yellow as he watched Norman sip at his coffee. "...Oh."

"It's okay, I'm clean now. Having kids really gets your priorities straight and helps you get your head out of your ass."

Noticing the lack of a wedding ring on Norman's left ring finger Connor asked about the partner his personnel file had indicated. "Aside from your children, do you have any other family?"

"I'm an only child, both of my parents are gone, and my boyfriend was the second father to my twins."

"...Was? You never married?"

"No. We thought about it dozens of times, but we both lived such hectic and dangerous lives that we were convinced if we went through with it and got married that one of us would die. Turns out that was untrue and he passed away anyway. Seven months ago..."

The signs of mourning were clear in Norman's eyes and Connor backed off. "Now it's my turn to apologize to you for bringing up a sore subject."

"It's all right. Desmond was with me for fifteen wonderful years. The damn stomach cancer made the last two years less adventurous, but we never stopped loving one another." Finishing his coffee Norman pointed to his own eyes and let out a soft sigh. "He's the one who encouraged me to save my eyesight through lasik surgery after the addiction threatened to leave me blind. I should wear sunglasses, but since that's how A.R.I. was used I want nothing to do with glasses ever again."

"Interesting."

"Very. I had no idea the very technology that helped me crack the case of the 'Origami Killer' was aldo used in special designs of androids who are now working in the same field. Glad to see it's still got some good uses."

"Minus the addictions, I believe the A.R.I. software still has promise."

"Do androids suffer from addictions?"

"Fortunately, no. We do not."

"Glad you guys get to skip over one of the uglier problems that humans suffer from. It's too bad you guys can't evade guilt, either."

The highly specific remark caught Connor momentarily off guard. "...Pardon?"

"I can see it in your eyes that this case is making you rethink everything you did and everything you said. You feel like you're somehow responsible for what your people suffered through because of Perkins, don't you?"

Slouching his shoulders Connor admitted that Norman was right about what he was going through. "...I guess I do."

"Well, don't! The people who sent Perkins to Detroit and never took the deviant uprising and Revolution seriously are responsible for what happened that night. Whatever you may or may not have done that night, forgive yourself. You won't be able to help anyone if you keep blaming yourself for crimes you didn't commit."

"I've been told that many times, but it's difficult to let that kind of self resentment go."

"Difficult, but not impossible. Forgive yourself and move on, it's the best thing you can do for yourself and the people in your life. I'm speaking from experience here, so you know it's good advice." Checking the time on his phone Norman motioned toward the door and stood up from the booth. "I'm going to go pay the bill. Think you can get me a cab?"

"Yes, of course. Do you wish to return to the precinct?"

"Actually, I need to go to the courthouse. I'm schedules to testify against Perkins in an hour and I don't want to be late."

"That won't be a problem." Almost eager to ensure Norman got to the courthouse on time Connor also left the booth and began cybernetically hailing the cab as requested. "I'll meet you outside."

The trial reached its final recess for the day and the entire city was left on edge. Having seen Norman testifying against the disgraced agent made every cop in the city excited, while those who doubted Perkins's guilt were having their skepticism steadily quashed. The trial would continue on the next day and everyone was waiting with bated breath for tomorrow morning. As expected the evening news continued to replay footage from the trial and highlight key points of interest for those who missed out on the original viewing.

Sitting side by side on the couch in the livingroom Hank reviewed the court images with a keen eye while Connor leaned back and danced his coin over the back of his hand. Contemplating the advice he had been given earlier that afternoon and comparing it to what he had been told numerous times already, Connor tried to think of a way to forgive himself and move on.

"Ha! Look at his face!" Pausing the broadcast Hank nudged Connor's side lightly and made sure the deviant was looking. "The way Perkins's face paled when Norman walked into the courtroom, man... You'd think the fucker just shit his pants!"

"...Director Jayden mentioned that he had been building a strong case against Perkins for months. I believe Perkins knows how dangerous Jayden can be when it comes to ensuring that dangerous people answer for their crimes."

"If only Norman could throw Perkins into a damn wood chipper like he did the 'Origami Killer'. THAT would be a sight to behold!"

"...And vile."

"It's okay to imagine such acts of revenge, kid. We're not plotting here."

"I'm aware."

"Ready to deal with the case again tomorrow?"

"I have little choice." Pocketing the coin Connor sat more upright and gave Hank a determined glance. "If I want to ensure my people have justice I need to be strong and stand by my personal choices and convictions, right?"

"Damn right. That's the right attitude." Patting Connor's shoulder in approval Hank resume playing out the footage to re-watch the first day of the trial with absolute glee. "Tomorrow we're going to see Perkins facing off with deviant witnesses, and it's going to be one hell of a show..."

-next chapter-

Author's Note: *In this series I kept Alice human since I think that "twist" with her really being an android was weak!