For a moment Connor couldn't move as he stared at the older man above him. Different emotions and whispers of memories suddenly assaulted him all at once, memories he couldn't even begin to process.

"Connor," Hank said patiently, as though speaking to a child. "I am here to help you. But if you don't let go of Gavin right now, things are going to be much worse for you."

Connor glanced at the semi-conscious Gavin, as though realizing he was still gripping him. He released him.

"Good," Hank said, gaining control of the situation with ease. "I'll help you out of the ditch first, then him. And then we'll talk."

A few minutes later, paramedics arrived on the scene. Gavin held a bag of ice against his forehead. "Oh fuck that hurts," he whispered, then glanced at Hank as he approached. "Where the fuck did you come from?"

"Fowler told me what was going on," Hank said simply. "I hopped on the first plane back to Detroit. I was lucky to make it before the storm hit."

Gavin shook his head. "I didn't think Fowler would get your hopes up. We weren't sure if it was even the right Connor."

"He is," Hank stated simply, looking at the android standing apart from everyone else. The android was shaking.

Gavin coughed from the pain in his ribs. "How were you able to do that? Talk him down like that?"

Hank smiled at him but didn't reply. He put a hand on Gavin's shoulder. "Thanks, but…I'll take things from here. Just get yourself patched up."

"Be careful," Gavin warned. "Something's different around him."

"I noticed." Hank nodded as he approached Connor, who had his arms folded defensively. "Come on, kid, let's get out of here."

Connor's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "And go where?"

"Someplace where we can get a drink."

"Androids don't drink, detective," Connor pointed out.

"Yeah well, I'm pretty sure androids would prefer to be dry rather than wet. So let's get out of this hellhole."

PART TWO

A few minutes later, Connor and Hank were sitting at Jimmy's bar. Connor watched the older man suspiciously, but he seemed calm and relaxed in the android's presence.

MEMORY CORRUPTION DETECTED: FOURTY-FIVE PERCENT.

"You knew I was a detective," Hank finally said, breaking the silence.

Connor nodded. "Detective Hank Anderson. You are a decorated Lieutenant at Detroit PD."

"Yeah. I was," Hank said simply. "So you do remember some things."

"Yes…" Connor said hesitantly. "But a lot of it is incomplete."

A burger and a beer was set down in front of Hank, who thanked the waitress.

"Sodium and cholesterol content are well above your daily recommended intake," Connor said with a brief scan. "You shouldn't eat that."

Hank smirked. "Glad to see some things will never change," he said, and chomping down on the burger. "You know, you were going at Gavin pretty hard back there. He was just trying to help you."

"He wasn't," Connor insisted stubbornly. "He was a threat! He was going to arrest my friends!"

"Right. Your friends," Hank said. Fowler had briefed him on them as well. "You know what they are doing is illegal, right? Creating red ice and selling it on the street?"

"So?" Connor stated. "I'm not a cop. Not anymore. They're trying to help other androids who are discarded and thrown into the junkyard. No one else is helping us!"

Hank frowned. "Well, there is Markus," he pointed out.

But Connor's eyes widened in terror. "No. He wants to hurt us."

What the hell have you gone through, kid? Hank wondered, but he kept his expression nonchalant. So far his method of lightly prying into Connor's experience was paying off. He dropped the subject for now. "What's up with your arm?" he asked, noticing as it trembled a little.

"It's a minor compatibility issue," Connor said curtly. "Nothing more."

"Okay. So what do you remember about me?" Hank asked instead.

"I don't know…" Connor admitted, looking away. "So far my experience with humans have been…unpleasant."

"Yeah? Tell me about that."

"I had been shutdown for several months due to an anti-android attack. They had beaten me several times, chained me to a pole in the junkyard, removed my limbs, doused me with gasoline and set me on fire." Connor frowned. "The memory is very painful."

Hank's fist slowly clenched in anger as Connor said this. "Jesus Christ, I can imagine," he said. No wonder you went off the deep end earlier. "And what about me?"

"I don't feel the same way about you," Connor admitted. "The memories I have of you are not bad, but they are hard to decipher."

"Well, maybe I can help with that. We were partners for quite some time, kid, working at the Detroit PD. We worked on android deviant cases and helped a lot of people together. Until one day about seven months ago when we answered a call. What was supposed to be a domestic disturbance turned out to be a huge gang fight. It was a damn mess, and we were pinned down. The last I remember you were going to radio for help…I guess that's when the anti-android gang snatched you up. They couldn't find you for over seven months." Hank sighed and lifted a finger to his head. "A damn bullet caught me here. I was in a coma for about three months. When I woke up, I went through hell and high water to try and find you. I tried every contact, lifted every rock, searched every night…it became an obsession. I stopped showing up for work. Soon I turned back to drinking. Fowler eventually ordered me reassigned to a different station away from Detroit, in order to try and clear my head. I gave him a few choice words for that, believe me." He sighed heavily, emotions threatening to overtake him. "I'm sorry, Connor. If I only knew you were in the damn junkyard of all places…that was only a few blocks from the crime scene!"

Surprised at his grief, Connor reached forwards and touched his hand. "There was nothing you could have done, Lieutenant. A natural occurrence, a lightning strike, caused my systems to reboot. Had you found me any earlier, you would have no doubt been inclined to dispose of my remains." He suddenly withdrew his hand, as though surprised. "My friends saved my life. I owe them everything. I trust them."

Hank stared at him right in the eyes. "Do you trust me?"

Connor blinked, and looked down. "I trust you less," he admitted.

"But there is some trust here, correct?"

Connor nodded.

"Good. Something is not adding up here. I want to know what it is. But first I want to go back to the station so you can have a quick check of your system."

Hearing this, Connor visibly tensed.

"No one is going to arrest you or hurt you in any way. Not when you're with me," Hank promised. "I just want to make sure you won't keel over in the next few minutes from any other incompatibility issues, that's all."

PART THREE

"I want him arrested," Fowler instantly said in his office. Gavin was sitting in a chair, glaring at Hank.

"Not going to happen," Hank said. Once he made sure Connor was at the technician's lab and would stay there, he had gone upstairs to report on things with Fowler. As he expected, the feedback wasn't good. "Come on Jeffrey, until today the only experience he had with humans was being tortured by them! And I'm sure Gavin wasn't exactly helping matters-"

"Fuck you too, Hank," Gavin muttered.

"Hank, he assaulted seven officers. Give me one good reason why we should let him go," Fowler said.

"We're not letting him go. We are being smart about this," Hank said patiently. "Connor is still our best lead to shutting down this drug operation. He knows where they operate from. If we put him in the cell, the only thing he will do is clam up and refuse to help us in the slightest. We'd be stupid to do that."

Fowler hesitated.

"I'll stay with him, Fowler. I won't lose track of him. I promise."

"All right," Fowler finally stated. "You either get that gang in a cell, or it'll be Connor instead. Deal?"

"Fine," Hank said, about to leave.

"And Hank?"

He turned around.

Fowler smiled slightly. "Welcome back."

PART FOUR

Hank headed back down to the technician's station. "Gary," he greeted, as the older man was tending to Connor's wounded shoulder. The android was watching him warily as he worked. "How's he looking?"

"Well, all I can say it's a damn good thing he's an advanced model. Half the parts in his body are replacements that shouldn't be working at all. Luckily his advanced programming has found a way to adapt, fusing them to work together. Bottom line is he won't shut down from this, but he's not exactly at 100% either. They'll all need to be replaced eventually, and his arm. We have the right parts here, but I'd like to keep him overnight when we do that to make sure there are no compatibility issues."

Judging from Connor's face he didn't like that idea very much.

"And his memory?" Hank asked.

"Half of it's scrambled, but his self-healing repair is taking care of that. Not bad for someone who's been brain-dead for almost seven months." He shrugged. "But I can see where the damage is from earlier blunt trauma. It's an easy fix. I can do it right now."

"I'm…not sure if I want that," Connor said nervously.

"Hm. Well son, you're going to get your memories back one way or another. The only question is whether or not you want to do it in a controlled environment," Gary said gently.

"He's right kid," Hank said. "Best to treat it like a band-aid and just rip it off."

Connor took a shaky breath. "Very well," he agreed. "Proceed."

Gary took out a device and attached it to Connor's reinstalled LED. Connor closed his eyes as suddenly all of his memories came back to him in a rush. Being a detective. His friendship with Hank. Sumo. Good experiences with humans finally mixing in with the bad.

"Connor?" Hank asked gently. "Are you all right?"

Connor's eyes opened as he gasped a little. Guilt threatened to overtake his eyes as he looked at his partner. "Hank…"

Suddenly, his LED began flashing yellow. Connor's face soon became concerned. "It's the sanctuary," he said. "It's under attack. I need to go."

"Woah, wait!" Hank said as Connor hopped off the table.

"Hank, there are more than criminals there," Connor stated. "There's also children and people who have no idea what David is doing at the compound. I swore to help them. I need to help them." He paused, as though waiting for permission. "Please, Hank."

Hank finally nodded. "All right. Let's see what we can do." They both headed out of the station. "Do you really think it's Markus?"

"I don't know what to think," Connor honestly said as he gave the address. With the sirens on they made it there within fifteen minutes.

"My god…" Hank whispered.

The entire building was on fire.

TBC