A pitch black sky graced Detroit with only the whiteness of the freshly fallen snowflakes from above to disturb the smothering darkness.

The final week of December was busy as ever for Connor and Hank. The duo were willing to sacrifice their Christmas Eve off so they could work a lighter shift on New Year's Eve, but it seemed the rest of the city didn't get the memo. While on patrol the duo had the misfortune of driving by 'Jimmy's Bar' just in time to see a brawl breaking out through the door and into the street, and had to intervene. During the fight Hank took a nasty blow to his right eye and landed poorly on his left wrist after being thrown to the icy hard concrete of the sidewalk underfoot. Connor hadn't fared much better after he was slammed back first against the brick wall of the bar's exterior by one particularly rowdy patron.

It took the two detectives almost ten minutes to properly cuff and restrain the six brawling drunks, and in that time back-up had arrived to transport the six belligerent men and women to the precinct to sleep it off and sober up. The sight of the three patrol cars screaming to the bar had quickly caused the other patrons to shape up and behave themselves for the rest of the night, and when Jimmy spoke to Hank by addressing them by his name every single customer made sure to tip Jimmy very well before leaving the bar.

Cradling his sore left wrist to his chest Hank pressed a clean bar napkin to the bleeding cut just under his right eye, and watched as Connor limped over to the bar to check on him. As he sat on the bar stool he used to frequent back in his drinking days Hank didn't refuse the offer of a few ice cubes in a towel from Jimmy, while Connor examined the damage to his left wrist and right eye.

"So," hissing in pain as Connor held onto his left wrist and made his fingers flex, Hank sat as still as possible while the deviant to tended to his injuries. "what's the diagnosis, 'doc'."

"You suffered a four point one centimeter hairline fracture to your radius and a full two centimeter wide break to your ulna."

"Meaning what?"

"Meaning your wrist is effectively broken and needs to be properly set." Wrapping the ice filled towel around Hank's broken wrist in a strategic manner Connor supported the wounded joint in a makeshift brace. "Depending on the swelling and severity of the breaks," Connor continued as he unwound his blue scarf from around his neck and wrapped it around Hank's wrist for additional support. "you may require minor surgery to have pins inserted into the bones to stabilize them as they heal."

"Fuck that." Holding his wrist to his chest again Hank blinked a few times as Connor peeled back the bloody napkin from under his right eyes. "I ain't going under the knife for a busted wrist."

"You may not have a say in the matter. Your eye will require six stitches as well."

"Nope."

"Please don't be stubborn on this."

"Connor, it's New Year's Eve and we have four hours until midnight. Every single emergency room in this city is going to be packed full of drunks puking their guts out, drunks getting bandaged up after brawling," pointing toward the bar's windows where the red and blush flashing lights of the patrol cars were glowing Hank emphasized that particular argument brilliantly. "drunks getting their stomachs pumped courtesy of alcohol poisoning, homeless people seeking shelter for the night, or feuding families wanting the doctors and nurses to act like referees. I'm NOT going to the emergency room tonight."

Wanting to argue with the matter Connor placed a new napkin over the bleeding cut and gave Hank a stern glance as he applied mild pressure. "Waiting will only make your injuries worse and increase the risk of infection and other complications."

"I'll get a wrist brace from the infirmary and keep a band aid over my eye. It'll be fine." Patting his right hand against Connor's left shoulder Hank noticed that Connor's blue L.E.D. flashed to yellow for a moment and he saw the wince of pain in the deviant's soulful brown eyes. "How's your back doing?" Accepting a complimentary soda from Jimmy for saving the bar, Hank sipped at the sugary beverage and watched as Connor wrapped his right arm around his upper chest as if he was sore as well. "I saw that bald fucker slam you up against the wall and try to pin ya' in place."

"It's fine. I've suffered two hairline fractures to the dorsal frames just below my left shoulder."

"You broke a couple ribs, right?"

"Essentially, yes. It's not serious." Flashing Hank a knowing look Connor played Hank at his own game. "If you won't go to the emergency room for your broken wrist and lacerated eye, then I'm not going to the facility for my fractured frame.

"...Touche." Finishing his drink Hank put the empty glass back down on the bar and slid off the stool slowly, all the while keeping his left wrist supported against his chest. "Thanks for the drink, Jimmy."

"No problem, Hank." The unfazed bartender picked up the used glass and put it aside to be washed later on. "If you can ask one of your cop buddies to keep circling the block I'd be very grateful. I'm sick of sweeping up broken glass and mopping up puddles of puke every damn New Year's Eve."

"You got it." Walking toward the door with Connor limping beside him Hank sighed and motioned to the Oldsmobile with his right hand. "You're driving again, kid. Take us back to the precinct so we can tell the tale of how we fought six of the nastiest drunks in Detroit and saved the day."

Pulling open the passenger side door Hank glanced back at one of the patrol cars parked behind them with the six cuffed drunks, just in time to see one of those very six drunks poke their head out the rear passenger door window and throw-up their one too many beers into the gutter. The sound of his painful retching echoed through the street and melted the snow collecting in the street alongside the parked car.

"Hey, son?"

"Yes?" Sitting down behind the steering wheel Connor looked to Hank as the senior detective awkwardly sat down in the front passenger seat and fumbled to get his seatbelt fastened without hurting his broken wrist.

"Thanks for getting me sobered up. I never want to look that ever again."

Looking back at the patrol car where the drunken man was still throwing-up through the opened window Connor grimaced a little as he acknowledged Hank's gratitude. "You're welcome... dad."

In exchange for Hank going up to the precinct's third floor infirmary to have his wrist set in a temporary brace and his laceration tended to properly, Connor went to the dispensary on the second floor to see Joel, and to have his fractured frame examined. Sitting upright on the exam table while Joel held the internal viewing screen over his upper back and shoulders Connor barely flinched when Joel ran his hands down the deviant's spine and dorsal 'ribcage' to check on the stability of the inconvenient hairline fractures. All of his self diagnostics came back with only mild damage as his main concern and none of which recommended the assistance of a technician.

The way Connor's posture stiffened up and the way he let out a pained breath through his clenched teeth told Joel all he needed to know about the deviant detective's condition. Moving his hands carefully Joel helped Connor to remove his blazer, vest and dress shirt so he could see Connor's bare back with his own eyes. The artificial skin over the fractures had a dark blue bruise to outline the fractures and collect the leaking Thirium as it seeped through the fractures in general.

"Man, that guy must've been strong!" Joel commented as he pulled his audioscope from his lab coat pocket and put the ear buds in place. Running the cold metal bell over Connor's back Joel listened to the ventilation biocomponents and Thirium pump to ensure there was no internal complication that was potentially being overlooked. "Does it hurt to breathe?"

"No." Shaking his head a little as Joel monitored his ventilation rate Connor spoke honestly. "It's only slightly painful depending on how I move."

"That's fractured framing for you. It's as bad as a human trying to move around on a broken bone or sprained joint." Draping the audioscope around his neck Joel helped Connor get his arms back into the sleeves of his shirt, vest and blazer to redress himself. "Speaking of which, I'm going to check in with Dr. Ortega up in the dispensary to see how Hank is doing."

"Hopefully Dr. Ortega can talk him into going to the emergency room." Holding his breath as he straightened his vest and blazer Connor considered bringing in Lucas as back-up to get Hank to go to an emergency room. "His wrist needs to be properly set."

"If you couldn't convince him to change his mind, then I highly doubt that Dr. Ortega would be any more fortunate." Checking out his laptop Joel e-mailed his coworker and updated Connor's personnel file regarding his current condition. "All right, Sergeant Connor Henry Anderson," smirking at the name change Joel gave the deviant his final assessment. "you've suffered two hairline fractures to your upper left dorsal plating, but the breaks are stable. You're clear to finish you shift if you stay behind a desk and remain on desk duty until your self healing program mends the fractures."

"That is acceptable." Carefully sliding off the exam table to keep his sore 'ribs' from aching any further Connor pressed his right palm to the left side of his chest and took in a small breath. No pain. "Thank you for helping me."

"No problem. You're my last patient of the year, so I'm glad it was a simple case." Closing his laptop Joel placed his audioscope back into his lab coat pocket and then hung the coat up on the nearby hook before he shrugged on his own winter jacket. "Got any plans for New Year's Eve?"

"My original plan was to spend the last few minutes with my family at the house, but with Hank injured my plans are now focused on getting him to an open emergency room for treatment."

"Huh..." A flash of intrigue lit up Joel's pale blue eyes as he and Connor exited the dispensary together and walked over to the elevator. "You're familiar with human anatomy and basic first aid treatments, right?"

"Yes." Pressing the 'call' button on the elevator the duo passed through the parted doors together. "I've downloaded the appropriate software to deliver emergency first aid in the field."

"Why don't you treat Hank? If anyone has the power to get someone like Hank to cooperate, it's someone who has worked directly with injured people in the past and who's personally refused medical, or technical, treatment for themself. You're an expert."

"That's a logical plan." There was no point in denying his own previous stubborn decisions. "I'll try that."

As Joel pressed the button for the ground floor he checked his phone from his pocket and noted the time. "One hour and fifty-two minutes until midnight. If you're lucky you can get him patched up and listening to reason before the clock strikes twelve."

"I don't believe in a concept such as 'luck'." Connor admitted as the elevator reached the ground floor and the doors parted a second time. "However, I do believe in the power of persuasion."

"Idle threats work, too."

"Indeed."

"See ya' next year, Connor." Joel grinned as he crossed the bullpen to take his leave. "Have a good night!"

"Yes, you as well." Returning to the bullpen Connor took his seat behind his desk and discreetly pulled his blue colored guitar pick from his vest pocket to hold. Rubbing his thumb over the white inscription engraved in the surface Connor considered Joel's suggestion very carefully. "It seems there are other forms of communication beyond just words and pleading."

Slipping the pick back into his pocket Connor was aware of Captain Fowler now looming near his desk with a stern gaze fixed in his eyes. Knowing that his commanding officer had received Joel's e-mail and undoubtedly an e-mail from Dr. Ortega regarding Hank's condition, Connor sat still and waited for the seasoned detective to speak first.

"Why isn't Hank seeing a doctor?"

The answer was as simple as it was illogical. "He doesn't want to."

"Yeah, I know. No one wants to see a doctor." Sitting down on the edge of Connor's desk Captain Fowler gave the deviant a disciplinary voice to listen to. "If his wrist is fucked up he needs to get medical attention before that injury forces him into early retirement."

"I'll handle it, Captain."

"You better." Standing back up Captain Fowler patted Connor's right shoulder once as he made his way to the breakroom to join his other officers getting ready to watch the countdown while snacking on super sugary treats. "I don't want to have to deal finding another detective to work with you in the deviant division during the new year."

"Yes, sir."

Cybernetically Connor began checking every emergency room in Detroit and received confirmation from the deviant receptionists, nurses and doctors that each hospital was in fact busy. A multiple car accident on the expressway only filled the emergency rooms faster and ensured a lengthy wait before receiving not vital treatment for those who needed medical attention.

"Damn."

"What's 'damn'?" Hank asked as he rejoined Connor at their desks and sat down slowly. His left wrist was secured in a strong plastimetal brace and he had a layer of synthetic skin in the form of a liquid bandage over the cut under his blackening right eye. "Don't tell me we got a case we need to handle."

"We do not." Giving Hank's wrist a biometric scan Connor could see that fractures were stable but still needed a proper doctor's care, not just the precinct medics who could treat cuts and scrapes rather than broken bones. "I was merely attempting to make you an appointment to see a doctor tonight, but as you previously stated all emergency rooms are currently rather busy."

"Told ya'." Flexing his left fingers slowly Hank tested his pain tolerance and sighed as he handed Connor back the blue scarf. "Ortega got my wrist straightened up, but I need a proper cast before I can heal right."

Accepting his scarf Connor draped it around his neck casually as he spoke with Hank in a somewhat timid manner. "...You can get a cast set at a facility rather than a hospital."

"Uh-huh..." Hank's blue eyes lit up as he gave the deviant a suspicious glance. "And would this particular facility also have a familiar brunette with a penchant for handling stubborn deviants?"

"It's entirely plausible, yes."

Rubbing his hand over his bearded chin in deep thought Hank gave his partner an ultimatum. "If I get treated by Abby, then you're getting treated by her, too."

"But Joel has already taken care of my damage."

"Nope, not good enough. If I'm getting my wrist taken care of then you're getting your back taken care of, too. That's the deal."

Wanting to sigh in defeat Connor couldn't quite take in the deep breath necessary as his fractured ribs ached against the motion. "...Very well." His right palm pressed against his sore chest as his enhanced external senors made the pain in his back burn with each breath. "I'll check and see if she's at the Zeta Facility as of the moment."

"Really? Since when have you been so damn agreeable?"

"I suppose it stems from a need to protect my family."

Smirking a little Hank rubbed his right palm over the brace on his left wrist as he watched the deviant close his eyes to begin the cybernetic message. He was very proud of the way Connor was developing his emotions and learning to trust his instincts as well as the people in his life. Remembering how guarded and suspicious the deviant had been after everything he suffered through during the Revolution Hank found it hard to believe that Connor was now someone who valued the love and protection of his family over anything else.

"...Abby is currently at the facility but wants to leave soon." Opening his eyes Connor relayed the information with a yellow pulsing L.E.D. in his right temple. Speaking as if withholding something critical Connor rose from his desk slowly. "I've also noted a sudden increase in traffic staling transportation throughout the city."

"Ah, fuck." Rising from his own desk Hank clocked-out and headed toward the breakroom. "I'm going to grab some free food then we'll head out now. I'd like to be away from doctors and technicians when the new year starts, not stuck with them hovering all around me."

Accepting the terms Connor stood up from his desk and confirmed with Abby that he and Hank would be stopping by her facility within the hour. "Agreed."

With barely forty-five minutes left in the year 2039 the two detectives managed to weave through the congested traffic and reach the Zeta Facility only six blocks away from the Central Precinct. As they entered the facility the duo were shown to a single treatment room to have their wounds re-examined by their trusted medic and technician friend. The facility itself was a little busy considering the numerous deviants seeking shelter at the safe place during the cold and questionable night. Thankfully Abby was able to tend to the patients while Barry and Lily gave each deviant in need of a warm bed their own private room to stay in until the next morning.

Assisting Abby with Hank's broken left wrist Connor quietly scanned over Abby's body and noted that the embryo, now at just under eight weeks, was still strong and healthy. Abby herself wasn't currently nauseated, which was a good thing, but she still seemed tired and aching. The keen eyes of the deviant also noted that she was just beginning to 'show' as she passed the midway point of the first trimester.

"All right, this should hold." Abby noted as she checked her work with the internal viewing screen over Hank's left wrist. The device was meant to check over android internal biocomponents without needing to open up the frames, but it could also give an internal view of the human skeletal structure almost as clearly as an x-ray. "The bones are neatly lined up and there's no tears in the surrounding muscle tissue."

"That's all good, right?"

"Yeah, it's good. My work may not not orthopedic surgeon good, but it's still good, too." Nodding to Connor as she set about securing a proper plastimetal cast around Hank's wrist Abby instructed him to hold Hank's hand and forearm steady. "This shouldn't take too long to set up."

"I have nowhere to be." Hank stated casually as he watched the technician work. "Take your time."

"And..." Investigating Hank's right eye Abby stared at the laceration under the liquid bandage and sighed. "Lily, Dr. Banner, is interning with a plastic surgeon at St. Mercy Hospital. She can give you proper stitches that won't scar too badly on your face."

"An intern?"

"We all have to start somewhere, Hank. And besides, you came to a facility instead of a hospital for treatment instead of going to a hospital." Putting her hands to her hips Abby gave him a 'too bad' shrug and walked over to the side cabinet to get the appropriate brace. "After we get your wrist secured go to the next treatment room and Lily will get you stitched up all nice and neat."

Wincing only a little when his arm and hand was lifted up enough the brace to slip underneath it. "You sound almost smug about this."

"Only 'almost', huh?"

Sitting still Hank didn't say another word as Abby promptly secured Hank's wrist in the brace with Connor's help, and made sure she didn't accidentally jostle the realigned bones in the process. There was fortunately no pain since shock set in, and Hank took some painkillers back at the precinct. Feeling a strong support around his wrist supporting the weakened bones was reassuring to Hank's weary body that he wouldn't have any nasty surprises if he moved.

"There. Now," Abby lightly patted Hank's right cheek and motioned for the door. "go get your pretty face patched up. If you're good maybe Lily will give you a lollipop before you go."

"As long as you don't threaten me with an enema, I can take it."

"Don't tempt me!"

Chuckling a little Hank climbed off the exam table and gave Abby a small wave with his splinted hand as he made his way to the exam room door. "Make sure Connor isn't hiding anything from me, and I'll meet him out in the waiting room."

Calling out to the senior detective Connor refuted his request. "I'm not a child."

"You are to me! See you later, son."

After the door slid shut Abby walked over to the door and locked it for a moment as she turned back around to face Connor directly. The calm facade was just beginning to crack as she gestured for Connor to sit down on the exam table. "Okay, this is what's going to happen." Approaching the deviant as he obediently sat down on the exam table Abby dragged her right hand over her hazel eyes in fatigue and anxiety. "I'm going to check you over, and then you're going to check me over."

"...Pardon?" Such a potential arrangement caught the deviant off guard. "...Check you over?"

"I found a way to make my final decision." Closing her eyes Abby lightly pulled on her dark blue scrub top where the front around her lower belly was just beginning to pull taut where she was starting to grow. "If it's healthy I'm going to keep it. If it's going to be born ill or with any life hindering defects I'm going to prevent that from happening. I want to start the new year knowing exactly what the fuck to expect, and not have any other unwelcome surprises."

Following her logic Connor needed a confirmation before he said anything else. "And you want me to do the test on the embryo?"

"I know it's a lot to ask for, but I trust you to be honest with me if there is something wrong or not. I don't trust the word of someone I don't know who might have a bias agenda when it comes to my right to make my decision. You wouldn't lie to me."

"No, I wouldn't. I won't lie to my friends."

"I know. I can give you a small sample of my blood to test and you can check on... Well, you know what you need to check." Eager to finally know what her final decision was going to be Abby tried to keep as calm as possible. "Thankfully there's been some breakthroughs with early genetic screening during the first trimester, so I know you can just tell me if it's healthy and viable so I can stop worrying about this thing."

"I'm glad you're going to make your final decision. You deserve peace of mind." Removing his blazer, vest and shirt once again Connor leaned forward a little to let his back curve while Abby checked over the fractures in his dorsal frames. "And I promise to help you regardless of your choice."

"See? This is why I trust you to run the test." Rubbing her purple gloved hands down Connor's back slowly Abby could see the fractures thanks to the blue bruising, and she could feel the small fractures under her fingertips as she applied pressure. The way Connor's synthetic muscles tensed up under her touch indicated that he was in fact in pain but not complaining. "Ouch... Full double fractures to the external frame." Pulling her hands back Abby gave her friend a sympathetic glance. "Do you want me to use bandages to give your chest some support?"

"I'm okay without it. Thank you."

"Okay. Let me listen to your chest just to keep my conscience clear, then you can put your shirt back on." Abby's phone made a buzzing noise as her personal alarm went off in her pocket to help her keep track of the time. "Three minutes to midnight."

"It is." Noting the time as well Connor straightened back up and breathed normally as Abby pressed the bell of her audioscope to his chest to check on his beating heart and artificial lungs, then ran the bell over his back. "I can test your blood in less than two minutes. You'll have your answer before midnight."

"You have no idea how much that comforts me." Approving of Connor's vitals Abby took a step back and placed her audioscope down on the nearby countertop. The deviant was just fine beyond his 'fractured ribs' and wasn't in any danger. "Okay. You can redress and I'll draw a small blood sample. How much do you need for a proper test?"

"For an identity test only one drop of blood is needed. If you want a full forensics test on your blood and that of the embryo, I will require two milliliters."

"So a typical blood test. I can do that."

Connor nodded as he slipped back on his dress shirt, vest and blazer. As he wrapped his black tie around his upturned shirt collar Connor watched Abby use an alcohol swab on the bend of her left elbow to sterilize her skin, then used a small sterilized syringe to draw her blood from the cephalic vein for Connor to analyze on her behalf.

The way Abby's face was a little pale and her motions stone-still spoke volumes of her concentration on the ordeal she was putting herself through. Her racing heart, elevated blood pressure and deep and slow breaths were all indicative of her personal stress as well.

"Okay..." Pulling back the syringe Abby handed it over to Connor while she applied a rubbing alcohol soaked cotton ball down on the injection sight in her vein, and bent her arm to apply pressure to the bleeding vessel to get it to stop. "Go ahead and do what you have to go. Uh, don't mind if I look away since I know you have to use your tongue to run that test."

"I'm not offended by your reaction. Hank is the same way."

Carefully Connor pressed the plunger of the syringe with his left thumb to cause the blood to leak out of the needle, and onto his left fingertips to press the blood to his tongue. Running every test available in his processor Connor's L.E.D. flashed a rapid yellow as he checked over the blood sample as thoroughly as possible. The details of the blood sample came flooding to Connor's visual processors giving him all the numbers and details one would expect to find in a typical sample.

Checking over Abby's blood type, R.H. factor, hemoglobin, current glucose level, a drug screening and white blood cell count Connor found everything to be in normal parameters. Her hormone levels were expectedly high considering her condition, but also in normal levels. The maternal blood serum showed no chromosomal anomalies through the protein being produced by the placenta, and the human chorionic gonadotropin all came back with healthy, normal numbers indicating no issues with the developing embryo.

Everything looked normal and promising save for one final test. To ensure everything was going to be just fine Connor's system proceeded to run a full gauntlet of tests on the minuscule D.N.A. sample provided by the small embryo to ensure it hadn't inherited any genetic diseases from the mother or the father during its development.

"Well?" Turning back around Abby gave Connor an eager stare as he finished analyzing the results. "Should I make an appointment for a prenatal check-up or do I go and find a clinic outside the city that no one would ever recognize or judge me?"

"The embryo is entirely healthy." The deviant stated sincerely as the numbers continued to build in his eyes. "No abnormal genetic or chromosomal..." Trailing off Connor's soulful brown eyes widened and as re-ran the test to ensure there wasn't any error on his part. "...There's no... It's..."

"Connor?" Feeling herself grow paler as Connor's posture slumped where he sat Abby dared herself to stand before him. "What's wrong? Is it sick?"

"...No, it's perfectly healthy."

"Am I sick?"

"...No, you're healthy, too."

"Then, what's wrong? You're starting to scare me."

As Connor fell silent the rest of the facility began to perk up as the final thirty seconds of the year ticked away one by one to bring in the new year right at midnight. The background noise just made the silence that fell between Connor and Abby all the more tense.

"...The test confirms something that I hadn't anticipated. And I ran the test twice to be sure."

"What?! You're kill me here!"

"Abby," forcing himself to look Abby in her hazel eyes with his L.E.D. remaining a rapidly blinking yellow, Connor told her what his analysis confirmed as the last ten seconds of the year ticked away. "Hector isn't the father."

Paling even further Abby's own hazel eyes widened as she covered her righteously shocked gasp with her right palm.

"...I am." Whispering the revelation as the facility burst into loud cheers all around them Connor realized he and Abby had an entirely new era together as the new year arrived in a cacophony of enthusiasm and energy. "...I'm the father."

-next chapter-