Enduring a strange shift at the precinct with the neck brace and support still around his neck, Connor finished his reports while ignoring the curious stares from all throughout the bullpen. What normally would've been a moment of self consciousness and unease was suddenly less irritating, and much more bearable for the still developing deviant to handle. Reassuring his Captain that he was recovering well and was cleared for desk duty had left the healing deviant feeling unfulfilled since what he did was light in comparison to his colleagues, but he held his head high and accepted that he still need a little more time before he could be cleared to work in the field.

As the day came to its dull end Hank watched Connor fussing with the support under his jaw with his fingers, and knew without even needing to check his phone or the smart board that Connor was ready to have it removed. Patting the deviant's shoulder Hank reassured Connor that their first stop after clocking out would be a visit to the Zeta Facility to see Abby.

"I know you're getting tired of that damn thing around your neck." Pulling the driver's side door shut after sitting down behind the wheel Hank gave his partner a sympathetic glance. As they both fastened their seatbelts Hank turned over the engine of the Oldsmobile and pulled out of his assigned space to head out of the parking garage. "I had to wear a neck brace for a week after I took a bad hit in high school during a football game. Whiplash is a bitch."

"...This..." Not even going to try to finish his sentence verbally, his jaw being held shut made speaking through his teeth feel wrong, Connor chose to instead send the rest of his comment to Hank's phone. 'This is not whiplash.'

"I know it's not." The text was read a loud electronically from Hank's coat pocket. "But my point is I know how much it sucks having to wear a neck brace."

'I see.'

"Despite everything that's happened we get to have the next two days off. Let's get your brace removed and head up to the cabin and enjoy some peace and quiet."

'That's a good idea. I haven't seen the cabin during autumn.'

"And we can get away from the trial for a while. I'm glad that fucker is being locked up, but I'm sick of hearing about it."

'I feel the same way.' The mayor was declared guilty that same afternoon and the entire city rejoiced. 'An eighty year sentence with no possibility of parole is an adequate enough of a punishment. I don't need to continue to hear anything further regarding Nero's fate.'

"You know what's kind of fucked up?" Driving toward the facility as he had promised Hank contemplated the guilty sentence curiously. "That asshole was tried and convicted for multiple accounts of embezzlement, fraud, extortion, assault, sexual assault, drug abuse, and then he had that kidnapping charge filed against him for his last failed stunt, AND he's been tied to dozens of other corrupt officers who have been forced to resign after they admitted to bigotry, abuse of power, accepting bribes, letting drug dealers off the hook, covering up shootings... All that horrible bullshit he let fly without any consequences, yet he only got eighty years."

'There's no way a man of his current age would possibly reach the end of the eighty year sentence and live.'

"I know that, but it still feels like he somehow got off easy. Like... If he was just a drug lord and not a politician he would've been given life in prison, and he would've had the death penalty at least waved in his face since his corruption led to many innocent people losing their lives."

'I can understand that logic. But even if he were put on death row his execution wouldn't revive the dead.'

"Yeah, yeah... I guess it's just the bitter cop in me wanting to see him suffer as much as he made the city suffer."

Contemplating Hank's reaction Connor offered up a far more logical alternative. 'Or it's just a natural human response.'

"...Thanks, kid."

Tolerating a routine examination of his neck and jaw Connor sat patiently on the exam table and let Abby check on his healing injuries. He wasn't in any pain and was merely uncomfortable with his purposely limited movements. Watching Abby's skilled hands hovering her internal viewing screen over his jaw and then his neck, Connor waited for her to approve of the supportive brace being removed. Holding still as Abby slowly released the support holding his jaw in place Connor confirmed that he wasn't in any pain, and that his jaw had fully healed.

Feeling her soft palm pressing against his jaw to check the structural stability gave Connor an odd sense of comfort. She had a very calming presence that always made him feel at ease whenever he was injured.

"Looks like your jaw has indeed fully healed." Pulling her hand back Abby proceeded to unclip the neck brace around the back of Connor's neck, and removed it slowly. As the brace was pulled away Connor's hands reached up to the sides of his neck and rubbed at the healed area curiously. "How does your neck feel?"

Swallowing once Connor spoke up in a whisper to check his voice. "...Sore."

"Turn your head to the left and then to the right for me."

Moving as instructed Connor only felt the lingering soreness no new pain or burning sensation in his synthetic muscles. "No pain."

"Good." Clicking on her penlight Abby stood before Connor and motioned for him to lower his jaw. "Let me check your throat for any sign of previously undetected internal damage."

Once more Connor cooperated and stared at Abby's hazel eyes as the skilled technician made sure he was entirely healthy before letting him go.

"You're one-hundred percent healed." Taking back the brace and clicking off her light Abby smirked at her deviant patient and made new notes in his electronic chart. "So, now that you're free of the neck brace and you don't have to deal with any courthouse bullshit, got any plans?"

"...Cabin." Rubbing his right hand over his throat Connor was still speaking in a low voice as his system finished recalibrating his vocal modulator after his throat suffered so much damage. "...Getting away from the city."

"Smart."

"...You?"

"Well, I finally decided to get back into the dating scene, and I'm going to give a guy a shot to woo me over."

"Anyone I know?"

"Don't try to pull that detective thing on me, Connor. But no." Putting his chart aside Abby gave him a gentle smirk. "You don't know him. He's someone who just moved to the city and we bumped into one another when I stopped at the local liquor store to get myself some nice flavored wine for fall."

"Is that normal?"

"Accepting dates in a liquor store? I hope not! But... The dude seems nice and he just wants a little companionship as he gets used to the city. He's supposed to be some corporate bigwig, but I don't care about that. I just want to get over my crazy ex and remind myself that I'm desirable."

"Interesting." Comparing his recent discussion with Skye to what Abby was going through Connor continued to find the prospect of romance to be quite confusing. "I was able to speak with Skye and we made up after our fight, but in the end we decided we'd be better as friends than in a romantic relationship."

"That's a shame. I like Skye." Giving Connor a coy glance Abby gave shared her opinion on the matter. "I think she's good for you."

It was such an odd comment and Connor needed to know the context. "...How so?"

"You both came from some pretty dark places and you're both trying to find a way to help your people in whatever ways you can. You have the unfair stigma of being labeled the 'Deviant Hunter' and she, and the other 'Tracis', were labeled as sluts or sex toys. It's hard to build a new reputation from an old one, and it's even harder when people don't want to give you the chance to redeem yourself or find a new way to live. It can't be easy to keep trying to do the right thing when people just look at you like everything you do, say or think is wrong."

"Yes, you're right. It's challenging, but not impossible."

"Besides, the way you both found your own ways to move on from your pasts and try to better yourselves, it's not easy for anyone to admit they're not perfect and have flaws to work through, is inspiring. You chose to continue to fight to protect your people as a detective, Skye risked herself to guide refugees to safety. Then when she was victimized and suffered a horrible loss, she retreated into herself for a while and then picked herself up from the ground to start all over again as a defense attorney."

"We're not special, Abby. All deviants had made such an endeavor after the Revolution."

"Maybe so, but you're the type of deviants who can inspire others. Hell, I know you've inspired Hank to keep living after his own personal tragedies."

Flashing Abby an intrigued glance Connor's blue L.E.D. cycled to yellow for a moment. "...What do you know of Hank's past?"

"Enough. Remember, before I became a technician I worked E.M.S., and I've seen pain of all kinds. I also know what it looks like when someone who was ready to give up on themselves suddenly finds a reason to keep moving forward."

Sliding off the exam table Connor straightened up his collar and his tie now that the neck brace had been removed, and made himself look precinct presentable despite being off the clock. "You're right about that, too. Hank's found an inner peace he can live with, and now I want to find my own."

"You will, Connor." Smiling warmly as the deviant headed toward the exam room's door Abby called out to her friend with sincere encouragement. "And you deserve it."

The long drive to the cabin was uneventful and calm for the two detectives seeking a moment of solitude. Since Lucas was too busy at his own precinct; one of the officers who was asked to resign due to their connection to the mayor was Roscoe himself, the duo decided to enjoy their weekend away, and make a special trip back out with Lucas to ensure he could enjoy the peace of the cabin himself. The way the trees had turned a golden yellow, amber orange and ruby red color was a truly beautiful sight to behold. Seeing the way nature changed in tune with the seasons was absolutely fascinating in Connor's young and curious eyes.

Seeing trees and plants adapting to their surroundings to survive was somehow cathartic. Knowing it was actually normal to adapt and adjust their behavior or activities wasn't just a piece of software designed to mimic humans made Connor feel more alive and less machine.

"This was Barb's favorite time of year."

Turning to look at Hank beside him Connor could see that Hank's blue eyes were glistening with welling up tears as he spoke. It wasn't often Hank spoke of his late wife or son, but he was slowly opening up more and more.

"She absolutely loved fall. When she learned that Cole was going to be born right as summer ended and fall began she was thrilled. It just gave her another reason to love this season."

There was no denying that autumn was in fact beautiful. "It is very pretty."

"It's gorgeous. The smothering summer heat is gone, the storms that rock the entire city off its foundation are done for the year, there's always a gentle breeze blowing through the air and removing the smell of smog and replacing it with freshly raked leaves, you can find hot chocolate and warm cider at every coffee shop in town, and you go can go for a peaceful walk without sweating through your t-shirt."

"Yes, it does seem that autumn is more pleasant than summer. It's without a doubt much better than winter."

"You got that right. I can't stand the stinging cold of the icy wind cutting through my skin."

"Sumo loves it."

"Sumo's a Saint Bernard." Pulling into the driveway beside the cabin Hank looked out at the lake behind the cabin with a sense of longing. "He's bred to endure the cold and actually like it. Big oaf..."

Tilting his head a little Connor silently agreed as he unfastened his seatbelt and stepped out of the car to begin the mini vacation. Glancing at the clearing hidden on the other side of the nearby treeline Connor slipped his hands into the front pocket of his black hoodie, and made his way out to the secret grave to ensure it was still safe and had been left undisturbed.

Stepping through the thin trees and shrubbery that were becoming thinner due to fall, Connor made his way over to the white stone that marked the grave and the white rose that Connor had grown to resent. Deep down he knew that the rose, a flower he had come to loathe, wasn't at fault for being grown. It was a simple mix-up of seeds at the local florist, and the end result was a rose being grown instead of a carnation as he had wanted.

Reaching the clearing with silent steps Connor came to a sudden stop as he noticed a doe and her fawn grazing in the opened space without a care in the world. Remaining entirely quiet Connor watched the two peaceful creatures grazing harmlessly on the grass, and made sure to send a video of what he was seeing to Hank's phone to view for himself the deviant took in the tranquil sight with true appreciation.

Somewhere in the distance opposite of Connor a twig 'snapped' and the two deer looked toward the sound with their ears focused on the sound. Slowly taking their leave of the clearing with graceful leaps and bounds, the doe and her fawn never once seemed to sense Connor's presence or care.

Wondering if the doe and her fawn were the same deer he aided that night in the forest Connor silently walked over to the rose to check on its growth. As he knelt down before the still closed bloom Connor's eyes widened as he saw an expected change in the rose's color that shouldn't have been possible. What were once snow white petals were now a deep and vivid sapphire blue.

"...A blue rose cannot grow naturally."

A cybernetic search in regard to the blue rose and where they come from Connor was met with contradictory facts.

"This is impossible."

Daring himself to brush his fingertips over the silky soft bud Connor tried to understand how it was possible that the rose turned from white to blue.

"It's healthy. It's grown normally since the last time I've seen it. No one else knows it's here. So how can this white rose now be blue?"

From behind Connor the treeline opened up and Hank appeared beside the deviant to check in with him. He had seen the video of the deer and wanted to see if they were still in the clearing. Spotting Connor kneeling down on the grass Hank slipped his phone back into his pocket and stood at the deviant's left side.

Following Connor's gaze to the flower Hank too noticed the color change and stared at it with wide eyes. "What in the world? Your rose is blue?"

"It shouldn't exist, yet here I am looking at it." Connor was at a loss for a logical reason behind the rose's coloration. "It's not possible to cultivate roses to be blue without being in very controlled environments. Seeds from blue roses are still extremely rare and cannot be purchased by the public."

"Are you saying your white rose turned blue?"

"Yes. The last time I saw it was when I had been dosed by the 'rose shine' and I came here while hallucinating. I had reached out to the rose thinking it was the emergency exit in my Mind Palace..." Looking down at his right palm Connor remembered that he had cut open his artificial skin on the sharp thorns and he had bled on the bloom. "...The rose must've absorbed my Thirium when I wounded my hand."

"Makes sense to me. If your blue blood got into the ground then it's possible the rose absorbed it from the soil and it stained the petals blue." Crouching down beside the deviant Hank eyed the delicate and rare blue rose with genuine intrigue. "I remember those weird experiments in middle school. We would put stalks of celery in dyed water and watch the water get absorbed into the celery, slowly dying the interior of the celery whatever color the water was."

"I'm surprised the Thirium didn't kill it."

"Well... Remember how there's a new species of parasites that like the taste of Thirium? Maybe nature is adapting to blue blood and finding a way to survive whenever it gets spilled."

"I wish I could confirm that theory."

Noticing that the rose was still a bud and hadn't bloomed yet Hank began to worry that the flower wouldn't survive the incoming winter. "I think there's some plastic sheeting and a plastic bucket in the cellar."

Unsure of what Hank was talking about Connor gave the senior detective a truly perplexed look. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"The incoming cold will kill it. It hasn't even had the chance to bloom."

"...The plastic will save it?"

"Yup. Before she got pregnant with Cole you could find Barb tending to her roses out back by the fence." Hank's memories, though positive, still made him tear up a little as he spoke about his late wife. "Whenever a last minute frost would hit the city Barb would used plastic sheeting to protect her flowers from the cold and would use overturned buckets to shield her heavier potted plants in the same way."

Not knowing about Barbara's past hobbies Connor asked for clarification. "She grew roses?"

"Yeah. She was a botanist by hobby, but she could've passed as a seasoned gardener. Since roses take so much patience and a delicate touch to properly grow Barb gave up her hobby for a while in favor of taking care of Cole."

In spite of his reluctance to take care of the rose Connor couldn't in good conscience just let it wither and die in the cold. It was alive and deserved the chance to live. "...We should cover it up and give the rose a fighting chance."

Glad to hear the deviant agree with him Hank put his hand on left Connor's shoulder and stood upright, his aged back cracking a little as he moved. "We'll take care of it now so we don't have to worry about it later."

Before the sun had set the blue rose was placed under an overturned transparent plastic bucket to ensure it still could get sunlight, and the bucket itself was secured to the still thawed ground with four metal tent spikes. Grateful that Hank had stored his old fishing gear in the cellar Connor was able to use the bucket to shield the rose from the cold but not deprive it of the natural sunlight. The transparency of the bucket would also create a bit of a greenhouse effect on the rose to ensure it didn't freeze to death in the winter time.

Satisfied that the bucket wouldn't get blown away Connor proceeded to clean off the white stone behind it and take his leave of the clearing to join Hank inside the cabin. As he reached the side property Connor caught sight of Hank standing out on the dock of the lake and watching the sunset in the distance. From the distance Connor could see the emotion in Hank's posture and knew that the senior detective was beginning to feel the weight of being without his family during the upcoming holidays.

Crossing the backyard of the property Connor walked down the wooden dock and joined Hank where he stood. Remaining silent Connor waited for Hank to speak up first. The stillness of the lake and the quiet of the surrounding forest truly made the world feel less chaotic for the briefest of moments.

"I love coming out here." Speaking in a whisper Hank watched the setting sun and rubbed his palm over the back of his neck. "If I had been the first to go I would've asked for my ashes to be spread in this lake. Now I know I want to be laid to rest beside my wife and firstborn when the time comes."

"Please don't talk like that." Not wanting to think of Hank's inevitable death Connor pleaded with his friend to think about something else. "You've still got so much to live for."

"Well, I do now. It's nice having a family again."

Family.

Realizing that Hank truly did see Connor and Lucas as a second family, not just surrogates or replacements for the family he lost, Connor knew his trust in the senior detective wasn't misplaced whatsoever.

"Is that rose safe?"

"Yes." Responding quickly Connor confirmed that the flower was properly protected. "I did as you instructed and used the transparent plastic bucket to create a protective dome over top of the rose, and I used the metal stakes from the tent to hold the bucket down on the ground."

"That should do it. You know, I've never seen a blue rose before." Slipping his hands in his pockets Hank turned to look at Connor as the sun set behind him. "Barb loved red roses and made sure to have one in her tiny bouquet when we ran down to the courthouse to get married. She said red roses symbolize true love, pink adoration and yellow for friendship."

"...That is true." Doing cybernetic research on the symbolism of roses in their various colors Connor found it odd that the blue rose, despite being a unique species created by man rather than nature, had its own symbol attached to it. "...Apparently the blue rose symbolizes mystery, attaining the impossible or caution."

"Seems about right. How that rose turned blue is in itself a mystery, and you said so yourself, that rose even existing should be impossible."

"That is true. It could just be a coincidence."

"Nah, you know as well as I do that there is no such thing as coincidences. I don't believe in fate, but I do believe some things do happen for a reason."

"There's really no way to say one way or another is truly definitive."

"Nope."

As the sun began to dip behind the horizon a few bright white stars began peppering the pitch black night sky overhead. With the sun's temporary departure the air became colder, and Hank could see his escaping breath forming before his eyes in a faint white mist. Autumn was truly in the air.

"We should go inside." Connor ran a biometric scan over Hank's body and sighed at the steadily chilling body temperature. "It's getting cold."

"Yeah, good idea. We should build a nice warm fire in the livingroom and check in with Lucas back home." Putting his hand to Connor's shoulder Hank led the way off the dock with Connor walking right at his side. "I imagine he's enjoying that new bedroom all to himself, and he's spoiled Sumo completely rotten by now."

-next chapter-