The emergency exam room was full of anxious energy as Abby hovered over her critically damaged patient with genuine worry being reflected in her kind hazel eyes. As she and Barry worked with the two E.F.T.'s who transported Connor to the facility to place the wounded deviant down on the exam table from the gurney, Abby watched the deviant's physical responses and reactions very closely. Still drifting in and out of consciousness Connor's head lolled lightly from side to side as he laid flat on his back, and he blinked sluggishly as his processor fought to remain online and conscious.

As the two E.F.T.'s left the exam room with their gurney in tow, Barry transferred Connor over to the room's stationary Thirial activity monitor and began taking his vital signs more directly. Lifting up the pressure bandage from over Connor's bloody chest Barry eyed the bullet wound and for a moment and his usually infallible smile disappeared.

"Shit, the bullet's lodged in the Thirium pump regulator." Abby gently palpated the area around the wound with her right fingertips while Barry documented his vital signs more accurately than what the monitor could currently do. "What's his pulse rate at?"

"Indistinguishable at the moment."

"Damn. Thirium pressure?"

"One-ten over eighty." Giving her the vitals he could confirm Barry remained vigil at the wounded detective's side. "Ventilation is steady but shallow at fourteen successful vents per minute. Core temperature is static at ninety-nine point four degrees. Online activity is faint but detectable."

"All right, this is what's going to happen here." Taking control of the situation Abby visually assessed the damage to the pump regulator and the cracked plastimetal frame around it. "We're going to use an external pump pacer to force his heart to beat more consistently, then we're going to extract the bullet in the emergency repair ward. Locate any compatible Thirium pump regulators that can work with Connor's model in the event his current regulator can't be salvaged."

"Right away, Abby."

Using her penlight Abby checked Connor's pupils as the deviant's glazed over brown irises made their sporadic return to the waking world. Unsure if Connor was awake enough to understand what was happening to him Abby pocketed her light and put her left palm to Connor's hair in a comforting manner.

"Connor, you're going to be okay. It's just taking us a minute to get everything ready since it's not every day someone lands a lucky shot like this."

The red erratically pulsing L.E.D. was a grim sight that reflected how poorly Connor's heart was currently beating.

"I was watching the trial up until the gunshots started. I'm so sorry you got hurt just for telling the truth."

Pacing up and down the corridor outside the emergency treatment room Hank put his hands to his hips and stared at the linoleum tiles at his feet. Feeling useless since he couldn't do a damn thing to help the deviant fighting for his life Hank just replayed the day's events over and over again in his mind. He had been assigned as Connor's personal security in the event that very scenario took place. Instead of protecting Connor as he had been assigned, as his instincts told him to do, Hank chose to instead protect the prosecutor while leaving Connor to defend himself.

Lucas watched as Hank paced about and felt his own sense of guilt. He had the day off and could've been in the courthouse as additional security or even as additional security. Not making a move toward the courthouse until he received Connor's distress message Lucas felt just as guilty as Hank.

Jumping when Barry exited the treatment room Hank wanted to speak to the helpful deviant but couldn't find his voice. Watching as Barry rushed down the corridor toward the emergency repair ward at the far end of the hallway Hank knew that Connor was still in critical condition.

"...The bullet struck his regulator." Lucas stated as if he could read Hank's mind. "Not the pump."

"Without that regulator his pump is practically useless." Despite not knowing much about android anatomy Hank knew how crucial such a biocomponent was to keeping androids functioning. "What'll happen if that bullet destroyed the regulator?"

"It'll be repaired or replaced."

"Connor's a prototype. Will that be as easy as it sounds?"

Lucas's green eyes darkened as he shook his head and crossed his arms defensively over his chest. "I don't know." Shifting his weight from foot to foot Lucas admitted that he was just as lost as Hank. "I really don't know what's going to happen to him."

Within seconds Hank recognized the fear in Lucas's voice and went right into 'dad mode'. Putting his hand on Lucas's shoulder Hank gave the nervous deviant a calm voice to listen to. "Hey, you're the one who said we just need to wait for Connor to prove how strong he really is. We both know Connor is as strong as he his stubborn, so by all reason that kid's going to live forever."

Too nervous to acknowledge the statement Lucas just stared blankly at the senior detective's face.

"Come on. We should go sit in the waiting room so the corridor is kept nice and clear for everyone. We've done everything we can to help Connor, now we need to trust him to not let a damn bullet be the end of him."

Using a skilled intuition and a patient touch Abby was able to use the external pump pacer to force Connor's heart into a steady beat at last. As the wireless pacer rested just over Connor's heart it sent controlled electrical shocks into the pump to cause it to fully contract and relax in a proper rhythm. With Connor prepped for the emergency repairs and as stable as possible, Abby and Barry carefully placed the deviant on a secondary rolling gurney and transported him from the treatment room and into the emergency repair bay to get the bullet out of his body.

Rolling the gurney down the now vacant corridor Abby held her breath and tried to not think about how she had to pull a bullet out of her friend's regulator in order to save his life. She had gotten to know Connor fairly well, and in turn started to see him as a friend first and a patient second.

"Almost there, Connor. You'll be okay."

Stepping through the automatic sliding doors into the repair ward Abby and Barry positioned the gurney next to the large and sterilized table in the middle of the bay. Once more she and Barry worked together to gently place Connor down on the second table, and began proper disinfecting procedures on the wounded deviant.

"There... Barry," looking at the helpful deviant securing the Thirium I.V. pouch to a nearby I.V. stand Abby gave him a simple order. "stay with him. I need to go scrub up and put on clean gloves."

"He won't be alone, Abby. I'll prepare the patient for the repairs and sterilize the wound."

"Thanks. I'll be back soon, Connor!"

Hustling out of the ward Abby entered the adjacent prep room and promptly removed her gloves to wash up her hands and her forearms to ensure nothing could possibly cause secondary complications to the deviant's body. Peering through the window showing her the interior of the repair bay Abby washed her hands thoroughly and watched as Barry sterilized the wound in Connor's chest, then removed the rest of Connor's clothing.

"Hang on for me..."

Watching as her hands shook a little under the flowing water Abby tightened her hands into fists for a moment to make them steady up.

"You don't deserve to suffer because you showed the world the ugly truth."

Two hours of waiting without any answers was all it took to get Hank up from his chair and pacing about once again. Pulling off his Kevlar vest and dropping it down on the chair next to Lucas, the senior detective continued his pacing like a predator stalking its prey. Waiting for the dividing semi transparent glass doors separating the waiting room from the corridor to slide back open, Hank's blue eyes were narrowed and focused on everything and nothing at the same time. He knew that Connor's heart was still beating, he knew that the bleeding was under control, and he knew that Connor was in the best possible hands in the city. In spite of all that knowledge Hank was still concerned that the deviant wasn't going to survive his injuries.

The only other motion came from the front entrance doors sliding open as Norman, now with his right arm secured in a blue sling to his chest, arrived at the facility to check on Connor. Spotting Hank pacing about and Lucas sitting in absolute silence in one of the chairs lining the wall, Norman approached the two detectives and stood before Hank as the worried man reached the end of his self imposed pacing route.

"I take it Connor's still getting taken care of."

"Yeah... We don't know what's going on just yet." Eyeing the sling Hank sighed and asked about the injury as he suddenly remembered that Norman had been wounded, too. "How's your arm?"

"Got a fracture to the ulna and a bunch of stitches. Bullet passed through cleanly." Looking past Hank and toward Lucas sitting quiet in the chair Norman motioned to the worried deviant in a casual manner. "How're you two holding up?"

"Worried out of our minds."

"I get that." Flexing his right fingers a few times Norman flinched as he felt his still healing muscles and tissue being forced to move, and immediately held his hand perfectly still. "Uh, just so you know, Perkins and Portland are going to be transferred out Detroit and back to D.C. to stand a second trial on a more federal level."

Crossing his arms over his chest Hank gave Norman a truly perplexed stare. "Said what, now?"

"Well, due to the shooting and the way Connor saved the judge's life, there's a chance that the case could end in a mistrial and we don't want Perkins to escape on a technicality. So, the sentencing is going to be handled in D.C. and all of the evidence is going to reviewed again to ensure that Judge Cato's perception can't be argued as bias."

"Are they seriously going to give the judge shit for not recusing herself in the middle of the damn trial after she got shot at?"

"You never know what cheap stunt people might try to pull." Speaking as one man to another Norman didn't shy away from the harsh truth of their particular line of work. "The anti-android bigots still hold positions of power..."

"Son of a bitch."

"Relax. They're not going to let a courthouse shooting go by unnoticed. They will both go to prison for life."

"They better..."

The door dividing the waiting room from the corridor slid open as Abby appeared looking both exhausted and relieved. Locking eyes with Hank she nodded and motioned for him and Lucas to accompany her down the corridor.

"Finally..." Breathing a sigh of relief Hank turned to leave and waved to Norman to get him to follow as well. "Come on. You came all this way, so you might as well check in on the kid, too."

"Wouldn't miss out on the chance to see the deviant who put one of the dirtiest F.B.I. agents in history behind bars."

A sense of fog and tingling was all Connor could feel as he opened his eyes and found himself laying in a soft bed in a recovery room. Glancing down at himself Connor saw thick bandages over his chest and pressed his somewhat numb right palm over the repaired damage. A long thin black cable was attached to the Thirium pump regulator under the bandages and to an external pacer next to the bed. The pressure of his own palm against the raw and still healing wound was enough to make Connor hiss with an understandable discomfort. As he lowered his hand from his chest Connor felt Barry put his hand down against his own hand to keep him from trying to touch the wound again.

Resting his arm over his exposed torso Connor sighed and winced as the motion made his repaired chest ache again as he breathed. The high pitched 'beep' on the Thirial activity monitor still recording his vital signs betrayed the sense of pain and Barry made sure Connor's condition wasn't suddenly beginning to deteriorate.

"Lay still." Checking on the external Thirium line in Connor's right arm Barry stepped back and gave the healing deviant some space. "Abby will be back soon."

Connor blinked slowly as he ran a self diagnostic and was met with a lingering warning regarding the instability of his Thirium pump regulator. "...Where is... Where is... Hank?"

"He is here, too. As is Lucas."

"...Okay. ...That's good."

The door to the private room slid open as all of Connor's friends suddenly appeared to check in on his condition. Looking up at Hank as the senior detective stood beside the bed Connor could tell there was something negative happening, and he was almost afraid to ask about it.

"Connor," Abby approached her patient and gently raised the head of the bed so Connor could lay in a more upright position. "how do you feel?"

"...My chest hurts."

"That's to be expected." Lifting up the bandages for a moment Abby checked on the cable connected to the regulator and then locked eyes with Connor. "Listen very closely. The bullet caused catastrophic to your regulator and despite my best efforts the repairs resulted in approximately eighty-five percent functionality."

Feeling his heart skip a beat Connor's soulful brown eyes widened as his yellow L.E.D. cycled rapidly. "...My regulator was destroyed?"

"Nearly destroyed. It's still here." Returning the bandages back over the wound Abby softened her tone and gave him a somber glance. "You have to stay here for overnight observation to ensure your regulator continues to function."

Sinking back in the bed Connor's eyes widened further and his yellow L.E.D. flashed to red. "...It can still fail."

"It's possible but very unlikely. The external pacer is attached to your regulator only as a precaution. It's like the way humans are given antibiotics after a near drowning, simply because there's no way to tell if they inhaled something harmful or not. That regulator is just going to remain attached for twenty-four hours in case it becomes necessary. I doubt it will."

"...Shit."

Hank put his hand on Connor's right shoulder and gave him a reassuring shake. "You'll be fine. If you can survive a straight shot to the chest then I know you can handle a temporarily faulty biocomponent. Don't be scared about anything."

"He's right, Connor." Making notes in Connor's electronic chart Abby gave him a kind smile and motioned with her eyes for Barry to join her outside. "You just rest and let your self healing program do its thing. And now that you're awake I'm going to go find other sick deviants to nurse back to health. I'll be back in an hour to check on you."

Trying to not worry about his regulator giving out on him Connor changed the subject to focus on something else for the time being. "...Who else was injured?"

"The bailiff got grazed and needed a few stitches, and uh," turning to face Norman as he hung back by the door Hank acknowledged his presence. "Norman got shot in the arm. But he's already on the mend."

Staring at the F.B.I. director as he crossed the room Connor withheld his sigh and instinctively scanned over Norman's right arm. He could see the fractured ulna and the deep tissue damage that had been disinfected and sutured close by his attending physician. None of the tendons, nerves or major blood vessels were damaged, which was a very good sign of a full recovery for Norman. "...The shooter?"

"Lyle Portland." Norman replied in a dry tone. "The nephew of Richard Perkins and cousin to Benjamin Perkins."

The familial connected was unexpected. Under no circumstances should Lyle have been approved for work on the Central Precinct. "...How did a relative of Perkins get hired onto the precinct investigating Perkins of numerous serious offenses?"

"Your Captain is bringing that very interesting question up with the higher-ups as we speak." Rubbing at his somewhat strained right shoulder Norman expertly hid his concerns for Connor as a means of keeping the deviant from worrying too much. "He also told me that another vengeful officer tried to poison you a few months back, and almost destroyed your heart. If that true?"

"...That's correct. It was former officer Chet Stone." Closing his eyes Connor told Norman the sad story of failed revenge. "...Those two guards I told you about killing on the night of the Revolution had families. One family member wanted me to suffer because of my actions."

"I get it. I've encountered my fair share of enraged family members after I've done some very uncomfortable investigations." Giving Lucas a wary glance as the shaken deviant brother stood silently beside the bed Norman tried to lift the mood for everyone's sake. "To me it sounds like the Lieutenant here is right. You're going to be just fine in a few days. You've been through a lot and you're still here. The mark of a true survivor and absolute diehard."

"...Yes." Pressing his palm over the bandages again Connor let out a soft sigh and stared at the ceiling overhead. "I'm aware."

"Since you're doing much better I'm going to go help out at your precinct and keep this mess from getting any bigger, and I'm going to figure out which idiot approved of Portland's application without checking into his family's record. I'll see you again before I leave Detroit." Heading toward the door behind him Norman remained surprisingly chipper for someone who just took a bullet to the arm. "Take it easy."

"...Thank you for helping." Feeling the repaired regulator under his hand made Connor suddenly very aware of how fragile his biocomponents truly were. Giving Hank an apologetic stare Connor spoke up in a hoarse whisper as if ashamed of himself. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry? For what?"

"I should've been wearing Kevlar today. This is-"

"Shut up!" Cutting him off before he could start Hank was determined to get Connor to stop blaming himself for every misfortune he experiences. "You're NOT going to take the blame for getting shot!"

"I knew the risks, I knew how delicate this trial would be, and yet I still chose to not take any precautions."

"Connor, I was your precaution. Why do you think I'm wearing this fuckin' body armor?" Pressing his hands to his chest Hank emphasized his point. "I know a lot of people hate my shirts, but not to the point where they'd cram me in this damn armor to hide 'em!"

Recognizing the humor in the statement but finding absolutely nothing in the situation to be funny, Connor just stared at Hank with disappointment shining in his soulful brown irises. "I should've-"

"Just stop! Not everything bad that happens in your life is your fault. You need to take it easy and let your body heal, and you need to give your own damn mind a break every once in a while, too." Looking to Lucas for back-up Hank refused to let Connor fault himself for anything that happened. "All you did was the right thing. You testified, you provided evidence and you showed no fear. Hell, when the gunfire started instead of hiding or running from the courtroom, you made a move to protect the judge and you ended up saving her life. There's nothing to be ashamed of with any of that."

Lucas finally spoke up and agreed with Hank entirely on the discussion. "He's right. If anyone here needs to be blamed it's me."

Giving his little brother a confused stare Connor noticed the fear etched in Lucas's green eyes and the pursed lips that stemmed from fear. "What're you talking about?"

"I was available today, and could've provided extra protection at the-"

"No, Lucas. You weren't there because you had no reason to be there."

"But I did. You're my brother."

Hank put his left hand on Lucas's shoulder by reaching over Connor's bed, and he gave both deviants a coy grin. "NEITHER of you are to blame for any of this shit. It's all on Perkins and his fucked up family. If you two keep up this little blame-game of yours then I'm going to have you put on patrol in an old folks home so you can't fault yourselves for anything anymore!"

Understanding what Hank was saying Lucas backed down and decided he couldn't do anything more for Connor at the moment, and as such he needed to focus his attention elsewhere. "...I'm going to call Noreen and ask if she's aware of what happened to her father. She might need someone to talk to."

"Good idea, Lucas. You take care of your partner and I'll take care of mine. We'll see you later." Pulling up a chair to sit beside Connor's bed Hank let go of Lucas's shoulder while he held onto Connor's shoulder for dear life. "It's just one night in a facility, kid. Not a big deal."

"I know."

"And you have the best technician in this whole damn city looking out for ya'. If anything does somehow go wrong you'll STILL be okay."

Looking over at the external pump pacer attached to the cable connected to his body Connor's entire demeanor dropped even further. Being 'plugged' into any machine gave him horrible flashbacks to his time under CyberLife's control, and with those flashbacks came nightmares of Amanda.

"Hey, it looks worse than it is. That thing isn't even turned on! It's just there strictly as a precaution, remember?"

"...Yes, I remember." Grabbing onto Hank's wrist Connor took in a sharp breath as if he were trying to not cry. "...I also remember what happened after I was shot."

"Huh?"

"You held me up from the floor, put pressure on my wound and I heard you talking to me. I heard you call me 'son'."

"...Yeah, that's right." The moment was still vivid in Hank's mind and he knew what he had said. "I did."

"How can you still think of me as your son?"

"Because I care about you, kid. I care about Lucas, too. You both gave me a reason to care about something that wasn't my next bottle of whiskey, and for that I'm going to be grateful for the rest of my fucked up life."

"Why do you care? I'm a killer! I'm-"

"Shh..." Using a more gentle manner Hank 'shushed' Connor and tightened his hand on the deviant's shoulder. "Do you seriously think you're the only detective in this whole world who's had to kill in order to do the right thing? Hell, do you think you're the only detective who's ever taken part in revenge? You're not a killer, son. You just made a tough choice."

Turning away from Hank in relentless shame Connor just couldn't accept that as the truth.

"Hey. Look at me." Cupping his left hand to the right side of Connor's face Hank made the deviant turn and look him in the eyes again. "I've killed before, too. It hurts and it makes it hard to look at your own reflection some days, but I don't regret any of those decisions."

Brow furrowing at the intense statement Connor's shoulders slumped with a sense of disbelief. "...You've killed?"

"Yeah. Six people. And I remember every damn one of 'em."

Blinking slowly Connor tried to cybernetically pull up Hank's personnel file regarding such a statement but he didn't need to do so. Hank was ready to tell him about his past and of his own tough decisions.

"The first time I was only a cop for two years. It was either my first partner's life, or the guy who had already stabbed him. The second and third kills happened one winter later. A woman was crazed out of her mind on 'red ice'; this was back when that shit was still new and no one really knew how destructive it could be," the memory was old yet still painfully detailed. "and she had actually covered her own house in gasoline and was threatening to burn it down. She had locked all four of her children inside the house and she was going to kill them. I had to take her down."

"...You were protecting people."

"Those first two kills, yeah. The third kill, the man... He was a sadistic pedophile." The word made Hank grimace thickly as he spoke it. "We knew who he was and what type of twisted freak he was, everyone did. He had been abusing his two daughters for ten years, and it was only when the fourteen year old found the courage to turn him in did anything happen. The problem was," sighing in absolute disgust Hank sank back in his chair like a lead weight had hit his stomach. "their father was a judge."

That particular detail made Connor's own stomach twist.

"When he got off the hook for the charges because one of his buddies helped him, Fowler and I came across him while on patrol one night and things just... Well, like I've said before, shit happens. ...Right?"

As Hank left his statement hanging unfinished Connor prompted him to continue the story. He wanted to know, he needed to know, what Hank had done that night. "What did you do to the corrupt judge?"

"...That asshole judge walked out of a bar drunk out of his fuckin' skull right in front of the patrol car. He was bragging about being untouchable and was making an ass of himself. When Jeffrey and I approached him to arrest him for public intoxication the fucker pulled a switchblade out of his pocket, and taunted us with it. He said he could gut us like a couple of fish in front of everyone in the bar and nothing would happen to him. So..." Speaking with heavy words Hank told the full story. "I decided that since no court was actually going to arrest that freak for his crimes and lock him away, that it'd be best if he were put down like the diseased animal he was."

"You shot him."

"And so did Jeffrey. When Jeffrey shot him he aimed for the stomach, a slow and painful death. I aimed for his dick. I hit the femoral artery in the process which let him bleed to death faster. We told I.A. that the judge threatened us with a knife and made a lunge toward us with the intent to harm, if not kill, us. It took some time but in the end I.A. had to declare it a clean shooting and let us go."

"...Is that why you and Captain Fowler were so lenient on me for what I did?" Learning that both Hank and Captain Fowler had also made harsh decisions was incredible to think about. "It was because you too caved to the temptation of revenge?"

"That, and because we both know and trust your judgment. Your goal was to protect other people, not hurt people for fun."

Feeling somehow better about his previous actions Connor tightened his hand around Hank's wrist. "...What about the other people you had to kill?"

"That happened three years later. I was now working with Barb and we had started working with battered women in the city. One woman, fuck... she was only seventeen, so one girl, showed up at the precinct seven months pregnant and covered in bruises. Her boyfriend, who was twenty-six, had accused her of cheating and said that baby wasn't his, so he tried to beat her so bad she'd miscarry."

Such an abominable crime made a heat rise up the back of Connor's neck. "You hunted her boyfriend down?"

"Didn't have to. Barb and I took her to the hospital, got her patched up and made sure the baby was okay, and about four hours after she was admitted for care, the asshole showed up at the hospital looking for her. He was drunk and brandishing a shotgun."

"Another defensive kill."

"Yeah. The funny thing is, I faced off with him in the parking lot and just took one look at him and fired. One bullet right between the eyes."

"...Why is that funny?"

"Because we were standing outside of a damn hospital. I could've hit him in the shoulder and disarmed him, and he would've been patched up and had a cop babysitting him until he could be taken into custody. Instead I just chose to kill him. Right there. No doctor in the country could save him after I pulled the trigger, and knowing he died just feet from medical care is a cruel and beautiful irony."

"You saw what he was capable of, who he was willing to hurt. And you killed him to stop him from hurting other people."

"That's right... It was deemed another clean shooting, too." Dragging his left hand over his bearded chin Hank sighed as tears formed in his blue eyes. "The final two kills, those were coldblooded revenge. Nothing will ever change that fact."

"What did you do to them?" Tightening his grip around Hank's wrist Connor pleaded with the senior detective to keep speaking. "Who did you kill and why?"

"...I told you that Barb was gunned down from behind while on patrol. She and I were working to bust a drug kingpin known as Jack Pillar, and bring down his entire fuckin' operation. Somehow..." Trailing off Hank closed his blue eyes for a moment and took in a shuddering breath. "Somehow, two of Pillar's goons figured out that Barb was one of the detectives looking into his affairs, and they... They..."

"I understand." Whispering empathetically Connor knew it was hard for Hank to speak about his late wife. "You discovered who attacked her and you... tracked them down."

"Damn right I did. And I'd do it again if I had the chance."

"Hank, what did you do to them?"

"...Connor, what I'm about to tell you I've never told anyone before. Not even Jeffrey knows that I'm the one who did it."

"I won't speak a word of what you're about to tell me to anyone. I promise. I just... I need to know."

Letting out a deep breath Hank leaned forward in his chair and bowed his head. The loose gray locks hung around his face and obscured his features behind a silver curtain. "...I found out which two fuckers killed Barb, and I found them hiding in one of Pillar's old warehouses. I geared up in a bunch of discarded body armor to hide my identity, hijacked a cab and I went after them by myself."

Feeling Hank's hand growing cold and beginning to tremble Connor moved his hand from Hank's wrist and wrapped his fingers around Hank's palm in a reassuring manner. "...Please tell me what you did. I won't judge you."

"...I took a double barrel shotgun, I pocketed as many shells as I could carry and I kicked in the door." Sniffing once to clear his throat Hank told the macabre story at long last. "I lifted the barrel of the gun, aimed it inside the dimly lit warehouse and just started firing. I heard the screams of pain and fear, I heard their footsteps as they tried to run away from me and I heard their bodies hit the floor."

Dragging his trembling hand over his eyes Hank told Connor about the horrible night he had tried to forget for so many years. "...I kept firing the shotgun until the only thing I could hear was the echoes from the gunfire; no more screaming and no more movement. I followed the smell of blood to where the two men were laying on the concrete floor in two mangled heaps. They were covered in each other's blood. One fucker had his entire left arm blown off by one of my shots, and the left side of his face was destroyed with another blast. The other man had been shot in the stomach at least three times and I could see-" Hesitating for a moment Hank tried to push the gruesome image from his mind. "I could see every one of his organs as they hung outside of his body. His hands were... They were holding his intestines. He had been trying to put them back inside his body before dying from shock."

The horrid imagery left Connor speechless. It was no wonder Hank had fallen so hard into alcoholism after everything he had been through.

"I took their own guns, the very weapons they used to take Barbara away from me, and I fired into their corpses until every damn bullet in that warehouse was spent. After that, I dumped all of their explosive shit all over the floor and used their cheap gin to cover their bodies in that shit to make sure every little thing in that building would burn up in one glorious blaze." Shaking all over as he confessed his darkest secret Hank forced himself to tell Connor the whole truth. "...I picked up a lighter sitting next to their fuckin' crack pipes, I lit it, and I dropped it on their sorry corpses."

"You disguised the murder as a freak accident."

"As the warehouse went up in flames I drove away as calm as I've ever been. I watched the orange fire engulfing the building and imagined that Hell didn't look too different. After I did what I had to do, I drove down to Rouge River across from Zug Island, and I dismantled the shotgun. I then dropped the pieces, one by one, into the water. I had already removed the registration numbers with acid and a metal grinder, so I was safe. As for the gear I used... It was covered in blood so it had to go, too."

The way Hank was telling his darkest tale made Connor realize that good people could do bad things, but still be wholly good inside their hearts. Knowing he wasn't alone in his act of revenge and the deaths he caused was surprisingly grounding.

"I drove West out past Romulus and dropped the gear into Belleville Lake. And then there was the problem with the taxi... It was already hijacked so I knew people would be looking for it, and I had no choice but to destroy it, too. I went up to Novi and I pushed the car into Bishop Creek. As far as I know, the cops in Novi who found the car a few weeks later chalked it up to carjackers trying to dispose of the car out of panic. The blood and gunpowder was completely washed away, I left no evidence behind."

Seeing Hank shaking and genuinely disgusted with himself made Connor's heart ache again. "...What did you do after you took care of the evidence?"

"Well, I began a slow walk back to downtown Novi, hailed an autonomous cab to take me to Livonia, then hailed a second cab to take me back to Detroit. I hung out at 'Jimmy's Bar' for a while to get a drink to keep my nerves calm, then finally returned to the house. I spent what felt like an eternity in the shower after I paid the babysitter for staying so long with Cole, then I picked Cole up from his crib and held him in my arms as I spent the rest of the night and early morning crying my heart out."

"When the warehouse fire was discovered, what happened? How was it handled?"

"...Fowler immediately thought that I had something to do with it, and he was right. But when he came to the house to talk to me about it, he took one look at me bawling my eyes out as I held my two year old son in my arms, and decided to look the other way. He never did ask me if I knew what happened or if I had any information on it. I think he knows but he has no reason to bring it up. The fire was declared gang warfare and territory dispute."

"Why... are you telling me this now?"

"Because you need to know that you're not a dangerous killer. I've done far, FAR worse than you have, son." Shaking Connor's shoulder lightly Hank took in a deep breath and looked the deviant in the eyes. "You have no reason to feel guilty. You've only killed in self defense and assaulted people who got away with assaulting other people for far too long. You've never killed in vengeance. I have."

"...How did you live with such pain for so long? I must've been Hell."

"It was. I focused on living my life to the fullest for Cole's sake instead. He no longer had a mother, and as his father I could never let him see me feeling tired or doubting myself. And like you, when I lost Cole I thought I was being punished for what I had done to those murderers. Now I know life doesn't work that way. If it did, the people we're fighting to get off the streets wouldn't be walking the streets to begin with." Speaking from logic and experience Hank was finally getting through to Connor. "They'd be getting taken out by Karma in ways we could never predict. Like I said, you were punishing yourself far worse than any law ever could."

For the first time since that fateful night in the forest Connor's heart didn't feel quite so heavy. The burden of a compromised conscience was no longer plaguing his every thought. Knowing that it was a normal reaction to want revenge, it was human to respond in anger, Connor no longer felt like he was a dangerous weapon. He no longer felt like he was slowly becoming the weapon and tool that CyberLife wanted him to be.

"Hank?" Sitting more upright Connor winced in pain as he wrapped his arms around Hank's neck and pulled the senior detective in for a hug. As Hank quickly reciprocated the hug Connor could feel a part of his heart finally beginning to heal, even as the cable attached to his chest got tugged by the motions. "Thank you for telling me the truth."

"You're welcome, kid." Feeling his own internal burden beginning to lessen Hank knew he did the right thing by confiding his darkest secret with his best friend and honorary son. "I trust you with my life."

"And I trust you with mine. You're a good person, Hank."

"So, does that mean you're actually going to cooperate with Abby and stay in the facility overnight?"

"...That's yet to be seen."

Chuckling as he wiped away his tears with his thumb Hank patted Connor's back, but didn't break the hug just yet. "Well, you're being a smartass again. So that's a damn good sign to me."

-next chapter-