Despite his best efforts to concentrate on his work Connor was hunched over his desk with his soulful brown eyes staring at his terminal screen, though they remained unfocused and glassy as he tried and failed to read through the files presented to him. Feeling unusually tired, uncomfortably warm and wincing at a persistent dull ache in his artificial stomach, Connor found himself far too distracted to function and handle his assignments properly. Performing a discreet self-diagnostic from where he sat, Connor closed his glazed over brown eyes and patiently waited for the program to finish its run, but the results came back frustratingly inconclusive despite his body telling him that something was wrong.

Connor knew it was only a matter of time before Hank, or anyone else for that matter, noticed that he wasn't quite himself that afternoon. Doing his best to remain nonchalant Connor stood up from his seat and immediately braced himself upright against his desk with his hand as he suddenly and unexpectedly felt very dizzy and swayed awkwardly on his feet.

Hank, sitting at his own desk at the opposite side of Connor's desk, watched with a furrowed brow of curiosity as the deviant discreetly regained his balance and stared down at his own legs as if trying to understand why he was suddenly graceless in his motions. When Connor didn't say anything or try to offer an immediate explanation from his behavior Hank took the initiative himself.

"Something wrong?" Hank asked casually and in a low tone of voice as to not draw unwanted attention from the rest of the bullpen. "You seem a little off."

"I am... unsure." Connor straightened his posture to the best of his ability and put his free hand to the side of his head as if in pain. A weak cough erupted from his lips as he cleared his throat and took a deep breath to keep his ventilation biocomponents functioning properly. The odd reaction caught Connor off guard and his face blushed a pale blue to acknowledge his needless embarrassment "...That was unexpected, I apologize."

"Did you seriously just cough?" Now knowing that something was definitely going on with his deviant partner Hank crossed his arms and leaned against his desk as if needing to get a closer look at Connor's face. "It may just be my lack of android knowledge showing, but that seems pretty weird for an android to do. Even a deviated android."

"Coughing for androids can be-" Another cough stole his voice and made him inwardly flinch a little in response. The coughing was against his will, and made his ventilation biocomponents seize as his artificial stomach churned a little. "...I'm not doing that on purpose."

"Now I know something's up. Did you run your self check program thingy?"

"Yes, however my self-diagnostic was inconclusive. I believe that I should see the precinct technician and have a second scan performed." Despite his own stubborn nature Connor couldn't deny that something was wrong with his overall functionality. "My systems are currently operating at unusual levels."

"Want me to go up there with you? You sound pretty rough."

"No." Connor stated somewhat confidently as he turned to walk away from his desk and to the elevator down the corridor across the bullpen. He subtly moved his right from the side of his head and placed it over his artificial stomach as he walked. "I will manage alone just fine, thank you for your concern."

"All right." Leaning back in his chair again Hank just watched as Connor sluggishly crossed the floor and managed to reach the corridor without tripping along the way. "Whatever you say, kid."

Using his free hand along the wall to guide himself as he walked Connor made his way slowly, clumsily but successfully to the elevator and pressed the call button on the electronic panel with his thumb. It didn't take long for the dual metal doors to slide open and for the deviant to step inside as the lone occupant of the lift. As soon as he was out of sight of his fellow officers, especially Hank, the unstable deviant leaned his back against the left corner of the elevator car and slipped to the floor to sit down as dizziness overwhelmed him, and the ache in his artificial stomach increased to a new level of discomfort he couldn't describe.

Managing to gain enough control over his senses to cybernetically select the correct floor Connor sat as still as possible as the elevator ascended quickly while he stifled another weak cough. The sudden motion of the elevator moving and then stopping made both Connor's head and stomach turn. Fighting the urge to slip into rest mode Connor pushed himself back up to his feet and prepared to exit the elevator as soon as the doors slid open.

Fortunately for Connor, no one else was around when he stepped out of the elevator and onto the designated second floor of the precinct to seek aid for his enigmatic errors. Continuing to use his hand along the wall to guide himself down the long corridor Connor located the dispensary - the android equivalent to an infirmary. The dispensary was where the precinct's lone technician was currently filing paperwork for the evening at his laptop at the far side of the rather impressively equipped room.

Knocking twice on the opened door's frame Connor stumbled into the dispensary and stood as idle as possible as he addressed the technician from afar. "Dr. Forrest, do you have a moment to spare?"

"Connor, is there something wrong?" Joel asked as he stopped typing and walked over to meet the deviant in the doorway of the dispensary. The first thing Joel noted was that Connor's eyes seemed glazed over and distant. That type of appearance was indicative of internal issues. "Feeling unwell, are we?"

"I'm experiencing unusual activity in my system that my self-diagnostic program cannot properly identify." Holding his palm over the center of his chest as if he could physically keep another cough at bay Connor paused for a moment before continuing once he was sure he wouldn't cough again. "...I was hoping you could identify and possibly correct the problem."

"Why don't you lay down on the exam table for a moment?" Joel stated casually as he watched Connor's reactions very carefully. The technician's trained eyes were observing every one of Connor's motions and overall behavior closely. "I'll see what I can do for you."

"Thank you." Connor turned his head to look at the vacant exam table against the wall in the middle of the room and felt his head swim as another dizzy spell suddenly washed over him. Moving his palm from his chest up to cover his eyes Connor paused in place then took a tentative step forward. "I-I'm not sure what is happening.

"Dizzy?" The attentive technician inquired knowingly as he gauged Connor's behavior closely. Putting his hand to Connor's shoulder Joel guided the deviant over to the exam table and noted the steady heat radiating from Connor's person. "Tell me anything unusual you're feeling so I can give you an accurate diagnosis."

"Yes. I have periodically suffered from bouts of unexplained syncope." Connor admitted with a weak cough as he slowly made his way over to the table and proceeded to lay down flat on his back just as slowly as he had walked. Lying flat helped end the dizziness but Connor still felt terrible as he felt his chest tighten with an impending cough. "I am also experiencing a sporadic cough that is difficult to restrain, and a persistent ache in my abdomen."

"Is your gyroscope malfunctioning?" Keenly observing Connor's discomfort as he followed after the deviant, Joel began putting the pieces of the puzzle together as he stood beside the exam table. Watching Connor's soulful brown eyes visually scanning the room Joel noted that it seemed as if Connor was having difficulty in focusing on anything for any extended periods of time. "Does it need to be recalibrated?"

Since his self-diagnostic was inclusive Connor couldn't answer the question one way or the other. "I do not know."

"All right, let's take a look." Joel peeled back Connor's gray blazer as he very gently placed his hand flat over Connor's lower abdomen. The light touch was enough to cause Connor to visibly flinch as Joel had already located the point of physical discomfort that Connor had been suffering in silence. "Does that hurt?"

Fighting to keep another cough restrained it took Connor a moment to answer the simple question. "...Y-Yes."

"Well, I can already feel that your system is slightly overheated, and based on your reaction I believe it's safe to say your gyroscope is in fact malfunctioning."

"Do you know the cause of the malfunction?" Connor watched as Joel wheeled a metal cart over to the exam table and began sifting through the various pieces of equipment used exclusively to examine android physiology. "I cannot locate the defective program with my own self-diagnostic program."

"I have an idea." The astute technician admitted as he took a flexible plastimetal band and wrapped it around Connor's wrist. "I just need to run a few tests to make sure my theory is accurate."

The flexible band was a wearable external thermometer that gave the technician real time accuracy of Connor's core temperature without having to be invasive. The device showed a digital display of Connor's core temperature in red digits, and as expected it was slightly elevated up to one-hundred and one point four degrees Fahrenheit. In a human that would be considered a notable fever, and with androids designed to mimic human vital signs and temperatures the higher-than-average number confirmed that Connor was overheating.

As the device served its purpose Joel made a mental note of the reading as made a move to perform his next test. "You're not the first deviant I've seen today exhibiting these particular symptoms. Actually, you're the second today, and the sixth this week."

"Other androids in the precinct are malfunctioning?" Another weak cough briefly interrupted Connor's train of thought prompting him to clear his throat before speaking up again. "I-Is it the result of a virus affecting our software?"

"Something like that." Unbuttoning Connor's white dress shirt over his abdomen Joel placed a wedge shaped plastimetal gauge down against his abdomen, which in turn caused Connor flinch and jump a little as the applied pressure made his stomach physically ache. "Sorry."

"I-It's okay."

Joel held up the electronic screen connected to the gauge as he used it to externally examine Connor's gyroscope. The wedge created a type of sonar wave that allowed the technician to see the gyroscope's exact position in Connor's abdomen as well as the rate in which it was functioning without needing to open up Connor's abdominal panels to view the biocomponent.

Finishing the exam Joel made his assessment fairly easily. "Well, your gyroscope itself isn't damaged but it is in need of recalibration. It's currently being affected by your overheating core."

"Why am I-" Connor coughed again and put his hand over his mouth as he had seen humans do out of politeness and to stop the spread of their germs. Germs weren't an issue for Connor, but manners were. "...Why am I overheating?"

Putting the sonar device aside Joel tilted his head a little to the side as his pale blue eyes narrows curiously. "I don't like the way that cough sounds."

"It hasn't affected my ventilation biocomponents beyond minor interruptions."

"Yet." Joel cautioned as he made a move for his audioscope on the nearby table of instruments. The device was designed to imitate a stethoscope and was strong enough to pierce through the dense plastimetal frame of deviants for an auditory assessment. "I'm going to listen to your chest to check on that cough. Be silent for a moment, please."

Lightly the patient technician moved Connor's black tie to the side as he slipped the ear buds of his audioscope into place to listen to the deviant's breathing. Placing the metal bell down on the central left portion of Connor's chest over his shirt Joel listened to the sound of Connor's Thirium pump and ventilation biocomponents - his heart and artificially lungs respectively. Listening carefully Joel ran the bell from left to right and back again over Connor's chest as he listened to every sound and motion with full focus.

"Your Thirium pump is functioning normally, but there is audible faltering in your ventilation biocomponents."

Such a condition wasn't detected by his self-diagnostic and caught Connor by surprise. "...Is it serious?"

"Any anomaly can be serious," removing the audioscope from his ears Joel noted Connor's temperature rising slightly to one-hundred and one point eight degrees as the thermal wrap continued to track his core temperature. "but in this case, I don't think it's anything dangerous."

"Do you know what's wrong with me, as well as the other affected androids in the precinct?"

"Yes. It is in fact the result of a software virus: it's called 'Groupware Blight v1." Crossing his arms over his chest Joel gave the deviant a somewhat bemused smirk as he gave his final diagnosis. "You, my friend, are suffering from a condition known as gyroscopic impairment, complicated by mild ventilation profusion and an enervated thermal regulator. This is more commonly known as the 'android-flu'."

"The... flu?" Connor's brow furrowed with utmost confusion at the diagnosis. "Influenza is a human ailment."

"Right, that's why I said you have the android-flu, not just the flu."

"...Oh." Covering his mouth again Connor caught another cough and cleared his throat once the cough passed. "What causes it?"

"Well, during the colder season android biocomponents and Thirium lines become affected by the drastic change in temperature." Joel motioned to the window over his shoulder where the dark gray cloudy sky threatened to unleash another snowstorm at any moment. "And when the change is very abrupt or inconsistent rather than gradual the thermal regulator becomes exhausted from attempting to compensate for the rapid fluctuations. Anatomically your thermal regulator is right next to your gyroscope and artificial stomach, and being overburdened by wild temperature fluctuations had in turn affected your gyroscope as the regulator itself began to overheat. That's why you have pain in your stomach and dizziness."

"And the cough?"

"Your ventilation biocomponents have been attempting to compensate for the overexerted thermal regulator and they are collecting an influx of excessive Thirium as your system tries to boost the power to the biocomponents as you heal. Essentially coughing forces you to vent a little deeper and theoretically you should be taking in more cool air to cool off your overheating systems."

Connor put his hand to his head again as if the very admission to being ill somehow made him feel even worse. "...How did I get this?"

"Like humans do." Joel reiterated with a devilish smirk on his usually laidback face. "You came into contact with another deviant whose software had been affected by the abnormal biocomponent reactions. My guess is you caught this from Linda at the receptionist desk."

As per usual Connor did indeed check in with Pamela at the front desk before clocking-in that morning. He hadn't noticed her exhibiting any unusual behavior, but his own peculiar behavior didn't begin to manifest for almost three hours since initial contact with her. That only made Connor think of Chase and of how the 'RK-900' had been taken down so easily by the cold and lack of Thirium despite being the most advanced android model completed.

He'd need to let Markus know of what Joel had discovered and keep the virus from spreading by mistake.

"Your system attempted to register the activity of the affected android's system and then attempted to synchronize your programing with theirs for easy cybernetic communication." Seemingly able to read Connor's mind Joel continued with the explanation as if the android-flu was an everyday occurrence. "Unfortunately, that meant your system became infected with her system abnormality as a result."

"What can I do to rid it of my system?" The officially confirmed ill deviant asked rather somberly as Joel walked over to a refrigerated storage cabinet in the corner of his office near the storage closet. Connor put his and over his mouth to catch another weak cough out of some unspoken courtesy to the technician as he awaited a reply. "I-I can't work like this."

"Well, like humans afflicted with any illness you'll need to rest." Returning to the exam table with a large transparent plastic bottle of bright green liquid in his grip Joel handed it to over Connor to take for himself. "And you need to drink this over the course of the next three days. One tablespoon every six hours."

"What is it?" Connor attempted to scan the contents of the bottle, but his system was too compromised by his condition to perform the necessary scan properly. The effort also made his head even worse hurt from the effort making every move he made nearly unbearable. "...I cannot properly identify it with my scanner."

"It's a type of coolant that'll mix with your Thirium and aid your thermal regulator in keeping your system from overheating. It's called 'Thiricetomal' and is brand new to android care. It's supposed to ease painful responses in your external and internal contact sensors as well."

"...Was this created by CyberLife?"

"No. There's a new group of technicians called 'Digital Sentience' picking up the pieces after CyberLife left town. I've met a few of these new technicians and even had a couple college students who are associated with Digital Sentience working as my interns a few weeks back."

"I'd rather skip using Thiricetomal considering I cannot even fully scan the contents of such an item."

"Sorry, Connor. This is all necessary while your regulator itself heals. Trust me," pushing the bottle into Connor's hand Joel was insistent that the deviant detective cooperate. "it'll make your recovery go a lot faster if you drink this."

"This is... medicine?"

"Essentially, yes." Joel reclaimed the bottle for a moment and opened the lid before handing it back to Connor. "And I want you to take your first dose here where I can see it."

Such a request seemed a little unusual. "See it?"

"I want to make sure you don't have a negative reaction."

Admitting defeat Connor accepted the bottle again and chose to drink the bright green liquid. "...That is a wise precaution."

With Joel's help Connor sat upright on the table with moderate difficulty as his abdomen was still sore from his overheating regulator and upset stomach. Joel's hand was pressed against Connor's upper back to support the sick deviant as he moved very slowly. With a single glance Connor easily estimated the proper dose of the Thiricetomal and drank it, but the taste was something so unexpectedly vile that Connor had to resist spitting it back out all over the floor.

"Sorry about that!" Joel laughed a little as put the lid back on the bottle for Connor to keep the contents from spilling. The technician saw that Connor was almost curling around himself as if he were trying to resist a terrible ache emanating from the deepest pit of his core. "Are you going to be okay?"

"...I-It hurts my stomach."

"Uncommon side effect, but it'll pass. It's also not a serious side effect just so you know."

"...I still don't like it."

"It may taste horrendous, but it does wonders. Without it you'd take anywhere from seven to ten days to recover. This will ensure you recover in three or four days. Take your pick;" he tempted with a sarcastic tone as he watched Connor doing the math in his head. "but do you really want to be sick for a longer period of time and unable to work?"

Shaking his head slightly Connor kept his shaking hand on the bottle and accepted the former option. "I find the shorter recovery period to be preferable."

"Everyone does. Now," Joel pointed to the thermometer still wrapped around Connor's wrist. "keep that in place and go home. Be as still as possible and continue your normal rest cycle. If you spend too much time in rest mode it can disrupt your software's daily routine and you'll feel even worse before you have the chance to get better."

"...I see." Straightening back up Connor replaced the buttons on his shirt and sighed before straightening his tie. "My shift is over in three hours."

"Nope. Your shift is over now." Speaking in a stern tone Joel made it clear that he wasn't going to budge on that particular request. "I'm sending a memo to Captain Fowler explaining that you're benched for four days."

"You said that I could recover in three days."

"Yeah, but there's no guarantee. Besides the extra day can give your systems more time to fully recover."

With his new orders under his belt Connor carefully slid off the table and planted his feet on the floor as he kept his free hand on the table for balance. Despite wanting to leave it behind Connor took the bottle of foul tasting medicine with him as he departed dispensary. "...Thank you, Dr. Forrest."

"No problem, and just call me 'Joel'. Go home, take it easy, keep that stuff refrigerated and drink one tablespoon every six hours." Heading over to his laptop Joel prepared a new e-mail to be sent over to Captain Fowler to keep him apprised of the situation at hand. "And then don't come back for four days. I'm serious about that, Connor. You may be a deviant but that doesn't make you impervious to illness or injury."

Reluctantly Connor did as he was instructed and made his way back down to the ground floor via the elevator to clock-out for the evening. Clutching the bottle of 'medicine' Connor returned to the elevator and did his best to keep from falling over as another dizzy spell hit him, and his stomach continued to ache with a strange tingling sensation.

"...Damn gyroscope. I wonder if Chase is feeling as terrible as I am right now?"

Connor grumbled to himself as the faulty biocomponent continued to affect his systems and make his already upset stomach feel worse.

Exiting the elevator after it reached the ground the floor and walking back down the corridor to enter the bullpen, Connor noticed Hank casually sitting atop his desk with his arms crossed over his chest as if he had been waiting for him the entire time. The way Hank was watching him reminded Connor of the way Hank used to treat him in the original timeline.

The senior detective had a curious look in his blue eyes but didn't say anything until Connor approached him at their adjoined desks. "Find anything wrong, kid?"

"I... I have the flu." Connor admitted with a low voice as he showed Hank the green liquid in the bottle. "An android-flu. I have been sidelined for the next four days and must consume this Thiricetomal every six hours." Hating the way that he sounded and felt Connor asked a single favor from his friend. "...Can you drive me back to the house so that I can rest?"

"Wow, you must be sick. You're asking for my help for once. No problem," Hank saw no reason to decline such a request. "I'll get you back home to rest."

"Did... you already know that I was ill? You don't seem at all shocked by what I have said."

"I'm a father, and a father always knows when a kid is sick. Besides, Fowler texted a minute ago after Joel sent the message about your condition." Shrugging dismissively Hank continued on as he gave the deviant a knowing look. "I just wanted to see what you'd do first."

"I don't want to do anything." Steadily Connor was sounding more and more pathetic as he spoke. It was like his exhaustion was stealing away his voice and making him feel and sound all the more ill. "...I just want to go home."

"All right, kid." Hank showed the cars keys already in his hand to the sick deviant as he slid off the desk and motioned toward the front doors of the precinct. "Let's get you home."

Putting a supporting hand on Connor's trembling shoulder Hank helped guide the dizzy, tired and sick deviant away from the desks and through reception.

Connor didn't react or respond to the world around him. Sluggishly he walked with Hank beside him and let the senior detective guide him to the neighboring parking garage to get to the Oldsmobile and get home at long last.

"Hey?" Shaking Connor's shoulder a little Hank tried to gauge Connor's overall alertness. "You still with me?"

"Where else would I be, Lieutenant?"

"I don't know if that was you being painfully honest or a smartass." Hank noted as he unlocked the car doors and watched Connor pull open the passenger side door with a shaking hand. "Sit down and take it easy. You look terrible."

"I look as I always do."

"Nah, you're looking pretty sick." The senior detective confirmed as he sat down behind the wheel and watched Connor slowly sit down in the passenger seat beside him. "You're not pale but your eyes are glazed over and you're walking like you have a ten-ton weight on your shoulders."

"Such a weight would be impossible for any deviant to bear."

"Be quiet now, and don't puke on the floor mats." Turning over the engine Hank quickly reached out and put his palm over Connor's forehead as an instinctive paternal reaction to check for a fever. "You're warmer than usual."

"I am in fact overheating, yes."

"Need me to turn off the heater?"

"No." Glancing at the thermal wrap around his wrist Connor saw that his core temperature had risen to an even one-hundred and two degrees. "You don't need to suffer any discomfort on my account."

"Jeez, you act like me enduring a slight chill in the air is the same as a human sacrifice." Pulling the car out of the parking garage and onto the street Hank watched Connor from the corner of his eye as the deviant closed his own tired eyes, crossed his arms over his chest and remained perfectly still and quiet where he sat. "Just hang on for a few more minutes and I'll get you back to the house. You can pass out on the couch and spoil Sumo rotten before Cole gets home from school."

The comment went without a response as the ill deviant remained silent as he bowed his head down a little.

"Yup. You're sick, you didn't say anything about Cole or Sumo."

Turning at the next block Hank idled at a red light and noticed that Connor lifted up his head and seemed to be pressing his hand firmly to the middle of his stomach while his opposite hand tightened to a near breaking grip around the bottle of Thiricetomal in his possession.

"You okay other there?"

Connor was silent for a moment as he received a warning in his visual processors revolving around his emergency expulsion program became active. "...I may end up puking on your floor mats. I'm sorry."

"Nope! Not today!"

Throwing the car into park Hank opened his door, waved off the angry driver's honking their horns behind him, and proceeded to walk around the other side of the car to open up the passenger side door. Grabbing onto Connor's arm and prying the bottle of medicine from Connor's grip Hank hauled the sick deviant over to the nearby alleyway just as Connor's artificial stomach betrayed him. As a torrent of blueish green liquid escaped Connor's mouth Hank returned his palm to the deviant's too warm forehead, slipped the bottle of medicine into his coat pocket and placed his free hand against Connor's back to try to support him.

Coughing a few more times Connor spit the foulness from his mouth and just stood in a stooped over position over his own puddle vomit at his shoes. Surprised by the violent reaction Connor just stood still and tried to process everything he just endured.

"Shit." Glancing down at the oddly colored puddle Hank grimaced on his partner's behalf. "I don't think that green stuff will evaporate like Thirium. Will it?"

"...U-Unknown."

"Thanks for the warning, kid." Patting Connor's back twice Hank made sure the deviant had gotten his bout of sickness out of his system. "Are you going to be okay long enough to make it back to the house? Hate for you to accidentally ruin the new carpet."

Connor stood upright a little with his hand protectively pressed to his stomach as he gauged the sensitivity of his artificial stomach in the process. "...I think so."

"Okay. Come on." Patting Connor's shoulder lightly Hank guided the ill deviant back to the car and helped him to sit down in the passenger seat again. After watching Connor fumble with the seatbelt Hank pulled his badge from his pocket to flash to the still honking cars and warned them to shut up before returning to his seat behind the wheel to drive for home. "We're almost there, kid. Just a little longer."

Falling back into a silent and nearly meditative state Connor didn't say a word during the remainder of the short drive.

Once home Hank practically escorted Connor from the driveway beside the house, through the front door and over to the couch. The new house had been fully furnished just in time to celebrate Thanksgiving in a few days. Thankfully the new house already felt like home, and everyone was welcome into the new home any time for any reason.

The livingroom had dark hardwood floors that were covered in rectangular beige area rugs to protect the surface from the heavy furniture. The walls were a slate gray with white trim around the door frames and windows. A large bay window allowed a mass of natural light to fill the room with a bright aura. The livingroom had been furnished with a new black leather couch complete with a lounger at the right end. and a new black recliner set up just to the left of the new couch. An ovular shaped glass and wooden coffee table was placed in front of the couch while the old white bookshelf from the previous house had been placed against the far wall behind the couch just where it had been in the old house before. The same could be said for Sumo pillow in the corner of the livingroom out of the way where someone might step on it.

The kitchen had white/gray linoleum on the floor and a slightly larger kitchen table to give an inviting feeling to the room. The kitchen counters were also a dark gray marble with white cabinets complete with glass windows and positioned above the countertops. A new white refrigerator, new white stove and a white colored dishwasher completed the large appliances pre-installed in the new house.

Just outside the livingroom was the long hallway leading to the ground floor bathroom - which was larger than the one in the old house - and the study. The bathroom had white walls with gray tiles and gray linoleum on the floor. There was a large bathtub against the wall with a separate glass shower beside it, and a window looking into the side yard.

The study itself had dark maroon carpeting and a large wooden oak desk designed to hold both Hank and Connor's laptops so they could work from home if it became necessary. A single large window overlooked the front yard gave the room warm light. Two tall oak bookshelves lined the wall with a single small dark red sofa in between them. The bookshelves were filled with various textbooks that Connor found useful for accurate investigations while in the field, and a few updated journals regarding some of their more interesting cases.

A beige carpeted wooden staircase led up to the second floor where the three bedrooms and a second bathroom resided. Hank was given the largest bedroom, the master bedroom, without question. Meanwhile Connor and Cole took the smaller bedrooms for themselves. Hank's bedroom was at the end of the hallway across from the smaller bathroom and next to Connor's bedroom.

The smaller bathroom had only a shower rather than a full bath, and it had a pale blue tile color scheme. With a single window to overlook the front yard the small room had plenty of natural light just like all the other rooms.

Hank's master bedroom had a king size bed, coffee brown carpeting, white walls, a large sliding door closet and a large window that looked out over the front and side yards. All Hank needed was his bed, his dresser and a nightstand for his lamp to read at night, and he was very content. A smaller bookshelf was built into the wall and already filled with some Hank's favorite books and photographs of Cole and Barbara to make him feel entirely comfortable.

Connor's bedroom had a very dark green carpeted floor, white walls and a large window overlooking the backyard. His queen size bed was next to his small nightstand and had a desk lamp as well. His emerald green guitar was set up in its stand in the opposite corner to ensure the room had some personality. Like Hank's room, Connor's room had a large closet and a bookshelf built into the wall. It was a shelf Connor quickly filled it up with a few choice books and photographs of his own to give the room some color and life.

Cole's bedroom was directly across from Connor's bedroom and had a large window that overlooked the front yard. He also had a queen size bed, nightstand and desk lamp, but where Connor had his guitar Cole had a large desk set up for his homework and new models to be put together. The dark blue carpeting and white walls really helped the bedroom feel like its own unique space compared to the other bedrooms.

The house's large basement was finished and had nice beige carpeting and simple white walls as well. The old furniture was kept down there for convenience and to make sure the setting is comfortable in the event of needing to take shelter during a storm. The Christmas decorations and a few other extra boxes were stored down there for later use, and a section of the basement was already isolated to allow Hank to set up some workout equipment to keep in shape as he aged.

The backyard itself had a wooden deck leading from the two large sliding glass doors and out to the large expansive property in the back. The large in-ground pool was still covered up for the winter but would be used soon enough. There was a small garden in the far corner of the property up against the white wooden fence that surrounded the entire backyard and connected to the swinging gate that allowed access to the backyard from the side yard to give the property a sense of life and vitality during the warmer seasons.

It was the side yard that held a large two car garage that was also connected to the large driveway leading to the street. The garage was again connected to the side of the house through the laundry room that was connected to the kitchen, just like the layout of the previous house and helped give the house a sense of familiarity while being entirely new.

"We're home, son." Hank stated calmly as he led Connor into the livingroom to rest over the couch. "You'll stay here for now, then go up to your bedroom later."

The senior detective made the deviant remove his shoes, tie, blazer, white dress shirt beneath and his jeans, and gave Connor a thin black t-shirt and gray sweatpants to wear instead after heading up to Connor's bedroom for a minute. Hank insisted that it would make Connor feel more comfortable during his illness and the deviant was willing to cooperate in the hopes he would feel better soon.

As Hank rummaged through the hallway closet and found the sick deviant a thick pillow to rest his head against, he also tossed an old navy blue blanket down at Connor's feet where he was laying over the length of the new couch. "Just in case you feel cold."

Happy to have the two detectives home sooner than usual Sumo sat down beside the couch with his chin resting on Connor's arm as the affectionate dog kept vigil over his favorite deviant. The loyal and friendly Saint Bernard was very attuned to Connor's behavior and mannerisms just as he was with Hank, and picked up on the fact that Connor was feeling ill.

Wearing the more casual clothing Connor appeared more human than ever as he laid on his back, sick and absolutely miserable. Not making any comments about Hank picking up his work clothes from the floor to be washed and worn again later Connor just tried to ignore how horrible he felt and hoped that he wouldn't vomit a second time. Sporadic coughing and dizziness kept Connor down on the couch all afternoon and well into the evening as his system fought to recalibrate itself and fend off the android-flu running rampant through his programming.

'Markus?' Cybernetically Connor reached out to his friend to warn him of the android-flu spreading in the city. 'I need to inform you of a virus known as "Groupware Blight 1.0" currently sweeping over Detroit.'

'Don't worry, I'm aware.' Markus answered without sounding the least bit worried. 'Simon and Lucy let me know about this morning.'

'That's good. Unfortunately, I'll have to refrain from socializing with New Jericho or checking on Chase for the next four days.'

'Oh no. How do you feel?'

'Horrendous.' Using cybernetic communication spared Markus from having to listen to Connor's painful coughing or lethargic tone. 'I fear I may have contracted this virus from Chase when I found him last night. How is he fairing?'

'He's showing signs of the virus, but he isn't in any danger. Chase hasn't woken up yet, so odds are he'll never even know he was sick when he does regain consciousness.'

'And Dr. Grayson?'

'She checked on him this morning after I contacted her. You're right about her, she's very kind and she sees us as the living beings that we are. I'll offer her a role in New Jericho tower as a back-up technician after she's settled in at the Zeta Facility.'

'That's good to know. Stay safe.' Connor was losing his will to talk and wanted to get some sleep. 'I'll meet with you once I've recovered.'

'Same to you, be safe and feel better soon my friend.'

Closing his eyes Connor drifted off into rest mode despite still coughing and suffering from a dangerous fever. He didn't even notice that Hank was hovering nearby as he tried to go about the house quietly while figuring out what to do for the sick deviant. The Lieutenant had taken the initiative to learn more about android care after accepting that Connor was in fact a living being, and was now checking through the saved information on his phone to guide his next move.

After a few hours of listening to Connor weakly cough and watching the deviant laying still in relatively silent discomfort Hank acted on his fatherly instinct and set out trying make Connor feel better. The pillow and the blanket were a good start, but there was so much more that Hank could do to help the deviant recover a little quicker.

"You don't have to do this, Hank." Connor stated tiredly as the senior detective pulled the thick blue blanket up and over his legs and then his chest to cover him up. His glassy brown eyes watched Hank walking around the couch almost hypnotically as he moved after being awoken by the blanket being moved over his body. "I don't require any special treatment."

"You do when you're sick." Hank argued as he pressed the back of his hand against Connor's forehead to check his temperature again. "Android-flu gives you an android-fever, too. What's your temperature?"

Connor lifted up his arm up from under Sumo's chin to look at the thermometer still wrapped around his wrist. "My core temperature is at one-hundred and two point one degrees Fahrenheit. Also, I'm overheating, not feverish."

"It's higher than before, right?"

"...Yes." Replying reluctantly but honestly Connor tried to ease Hank's worries for his condition. "But I'm still coherent and-."

"Yeah, and I'm still lucid despite my old age. You're sick and you're being stubborn, Connor." Stepping away from the couch Hank entered to the kitchen to gather a few things for the stubborn deviant's recovery. "Since you can't sweat to cool off, I'm getting you some ice. I don't want your brain to melt." As Hank pulled a thin ice bag from the freezer, he opened the fridge and picked up the bottle of green liquid medication he had placed inside of it shortly after returning home and read the label on its side. "You need to drink this medicine stuff every six hours, right?"

Connor outwardly grimaced at the notion of having to taste that repugnant medicine again yet answered honestly all the same. "...Correct."

"We'll take care of that now since you threw-up your last dose." With the new supplies in his hands Hank returned to the couch and pressed the provided ice pack against Connor's forehead gently, and then offered the bottle of Thiricetomal to the sick deviant to drink. "Here." Returning to the kitchen for a moment Hank found one more item from beneath the kitchen sink. Walking back to the couch Hank then placed an empty mop bucket down on the floor beside the couch in the event Connor threw-up again after taking the medicine. "Just in case you feel sick again."

"It's possible that I can recover without the aid of that medication." Connor quickly stated as he refused to take the offered medicine and watched the reaction on Hank's face as he handed the bottle back to his protective friend. "It would just take a day or two longer to fully recover."

"Uh-huh, and why would you willingly let yourself be sick for longer?" The senior detective and father knew that Connor was trying to avoid something. He was going to figure it out fairly quickly, even if Connor thought he could outsmart him. "This is weird. Especially since you're a textbook 'workaholic'."

Doing his best to avoid taking the Thiricetomal again Connor tried to feign innocence but failed as his glassy eyes fell to the bottle of green medicine in Hank's hand and gave away his true intention. "I'd just prefer to allow my systems to heal without secondary assistance."

"Bullshit." Hank pointed an accusing but non-aggressive finger at the sick deviant. "You just don't like the way this stuff tastes. I can see it in your eyes, kid."

"I don't have any taste prefer-"

"Then drink it." Hank impatiently pushed the bottle closer to Connor's face, but the ill deviant turned his face away with a thick grimace. "I knew it. You're as bad as Cole, you know that?"

"...It hurts my stomach." Connor confessed as he closed his tired eyes and let out a sigh as he coughed a few times. "And I don't like being in pain."

"No one does, son." That last comment struck a chord with Hank, and it softened his voice. "You need it. You're going to get a whole lot worse before you get better if you don't drink this stuff."

Begrudgingly Connor opened his eyes again and stared at the questionable green tinted liquid in Hank's hand.

"Think of it this way; the sooner you're better the sooner you won't have to drink this stuff anymore." Hank opened the lid of the bottle and curiously smelled the contents within by wafting it under his nose. "Jeez, this shit smells like pure antifreeze! No wonder you can't stand the taste."

Slowly Connor reached a shaking hand up to the bottle and took it from Hank's outstretched hand with a reluctant grip. Closing his eyes again Connor took his next dose of medicine and forced himself to swallow the potent liquid in a single gulp, and again he resisted every urge to spit it out. After taking his medicine Connor almost immediately tightened his arm around his abdomen as the vile medication had a massively negative effect on his artificial stomach.

If it wasn't for the fact that Connor looked so miserable Hank would've laughed as he took the bottle back from Connor and replaced the lid for him. "That bad, huh?"

"...Awful." Connor sighed pathetically as he sank down against the thick pillow as much as possible, his arm slowly letting go of his stomach as he relaxed a little and pressed into the soft pillow and cushions beneath his body. Focusing on the lingering sensation of the Thiricetomal rolling past his tongue Connor grimaced again. "...I can still taste it."

"Sorry. I don't know how to help you cope with a bad taste."

"It's okay. It's not your fault."

"Hey, you'll pull through this and be back to normal in a few days. Just be patient."

"I know. I'll try." The exhausted deviant looked at Hank through partially opened eyelids. "I'd like to repay you for your kindness."

"Don't worry about it, that's what friends do." The senior detective shrugged his shoulders casually as returned the medication to the fridge in the kitchen for proper storage. "Besides, when I end up being sick with the flu, and I do every fuckin' winter, you can make sure I take whatever nasty medication the doctor prescribes me. Deal?"

Connor coughed weakly as he closed his eyes and tried to ignore the lingering foul taste in his mouth as he initiated a light rest mode. "...Deal."

"Do you need anything else? More ice? Another pillow?" Hank patted the side of the couch as he returned to the livingroom to lure Sumo into resting his head down next to Connor's arm again to try to comfort the ill deviant. "I got a couple extra blankets stashed around her somewhere."

The cuddly Saint Bernard happily obliged and put his chin back down on Connor's forearm and yawned sleepily as he prepared to nap along with Connor.

"I'd just like to be left alone for now." Refusing the polite offer Connor felt his stomach churning as he tried to lay still. "Please."

"Sure, no problem." Quietly Hank took his leave of the livingroom and turned off the lights in both the livingroom and the kitchen in the process before he walked down the hallway to go take a refreshing shower. "Feel better soon, son. I'll be just down the hallway if you need anything."

As if on autopilot Hank spent the rest of the day consistently checked on Connor's fever just like he'd do whenever Cole had gotten sick. Using the thermal wrap on Connor's wrist as a guide, as well as his own hand lightly pressing down against the deviant's forehead, Hank kept tabs on Connor's temperature and only disturbed him whenever he needed to take his medicine. The six hour intervals seemed to pass by incredibly slowly for Hank but far too quickly for Connor. The way the Thiricetomal upset Connor's stomach made it increasingly difficult for the ill deviant to get any proper rest or focus his self-healing program on his other affected biocomponents.

After Cole came home from school the fourth grader did his best to help out with Connor in his own way. It seemed his school was starting to teach their students about androids in science class, and Cole was eager to show off his newly acquired knowledge to aid his friend.

At six o'clock in the evening Hank walked into the kitchen, opened up the refrigerator and pulled out the bottle of green medication. The bright green coloration was a little odd and reminded Hank of the bizarre concoctions he had seen villains create in sci-fi movies he used to watch as a kid.

Kneeling down beside the couch Hank whispered the deviant's name as he held the bottle in his right hand. "Connor?"

The deviant's brown eyes opened slowly as he recognized Hank's voice. "...Lieutenant?"

Holding up the bottle for Connor to see Hank gave the deviant an apologetic smirk. "Medicine."

"...Already?"

"You were asleep for six hours, so yeah." Rising from the floor Hank sat down on the coffee table next to the couch and removed the lid from the bottle. "Medicine again already."

Lifting his head up a little from the pillow Connor was pleased to discover that no dizzy spell accompanied him as he moved, and saw that according to the thermal wrap on his wrist his temperature was starting to slowly drop. "I believe I'm beginning to recover."

"Good. But you still have to drink this shit."

Letting out an annoyed sigh Connor accepted his impending fate. "...I'm aware."

"Sorry, kid. Maybe you can convince Joel to make it taste differently in case you get sick again in the future."

Too exhausted to reply, Connor didn't say anything as he took a third dose of the medicine and closed his eyes tightly as the loathsome taste filled his mouth against his will. Forcing himself to swallow the vile substance Connor shook his head a little as he handed the medicine back to Hank. "...I don't know what a preferable taste to this could be."

"I'm no expert, but I think anything but antifreeze would be preferable."

"You may be correct." Laying back down Connor didn't want to think about alternate tastes to medication as Hank returned the bottle to the refrigerator. "I really wouldn't know."

"Now, stay awake."

"But I am tired."

"Hey, I read that memo that Joel sent to Fowler, and it said for you to NOT go against your normal rest mode cycles." Hank leaned over the back of the couch to look down at Connor as he rested. "I let you sleep because you were so damn exhausted from throwing-up, but now that you're getting better, I want you to stay awake for me."

"What am I to do if I cannot sleep? I am not cleared to work, and my processors won't allow me to cybernetically work on cases."

"Holy shit, kid. No wonder you got sick. Look, just do what humans do when they get sick, all right?" Doing his best to remain patient Hank pet Sumo's head as he walked over to the neighboring recliner and sat down heavily. "No more thinking about work or cases. Don't think about anything."

"What should I do then?"

"Read a book or watch a movie. That's what I usually do whenever me or Cole get sick."

"A movie?" Connor asked somewhat confusedly as he slowly sat upright on the couch and turned so his legs were hanging off the edge of the furniture to rest his feet firmly on the floor like normal. Sumo proceeded to rest his chin over Connor's lap and wag his tail when Connor placed his hand atop his head as a result, and he began to rub Sumo's ears gently. "Do you have a recommendation?"

"Yeah, I got one." Using the television remote Hank turned on the television and scoured through his list of digitally downloaded movies and selected a favorite that he was sure would hold Connor's attention: A detective movie from the 1980's called 'The Untouchables'. "This is one of my favorites. You'll love it, too, kid."

"Why's that?"

"It's about detectives and it's about history." Hank cued up the film and then leaned back in his chair to rest his back for minute. He was getting older and beginning to feel the effects of age along his back and neck. "Granted some of the history gets exaggerated or omitted, but that doesn't stop it from being a damn good story."

Watching the opening credits of the movie play out on the screen Connor did his best to focus on the story and not his aching stomach. "I'll take your word on this, too."

"Cool. Hey, Cole?" Hank called to his young son in his new bedroom taking care of his homework. "Movie night!"

The sound of footsteps hurrying down the staircase echoed in the house as Cole raced into the livingroom to join in on the fun occasion. "What're we watching?"

"We're watching 'The Untouchables' again. Help me make some snacks." Walking with Cole into the kitchen Hank briefly patted Connor's shoulder as he walked around the back of the couch to cross the livingroom. "How's your homework going?"

"I'm done with it. I was just doing some extra credit stuff."

"Really?" Hearing that made Hank smile as he watched his son growing up and taking the initiative on his education. "What kind of extra credit?"

"I'm writing down what's going on with Connor and his flu." Cole explained as he pulled some tortilla chips from the pantry so that he and his dad could make a big plate of nachos of their own. It seemed all detectives and their families just loved spicy food. "I want to help with finding a way to keep androids from getting sick and help them get better."

"I'm sure Connor appreciates that. Or," he looked back at Connor struggling to keep awake on the couch in the livingroom. "he will when he wakes up again!"

The first night of Connor's android-flu ended with the deviant falling asleep before the climax of the film had taken place and settling into a gentle breathing pattern as his coughing fits seemed to mercifully end. Hank let Connor rest on the couch without disturbing him in the process, then reminded Cole to leave the deviant alone before he went to bed himself. Placing another blanket over Connor's sleeping form to ensure he was as comfortable as possible Hank checked on Connor's fever with a gentle palm over the deviant's too warm forehead without awaking Connor by mistake. The sick deviant's fever was holding static at its current temperature and didn't seem to be willing to lower any time soon.

It was nearly six in the morning when Hank was abruptly awoken from his slumber by the sound of Connor being physically sick again and throwing-up in the livingroom. Glad he put down the empty bucket for Connor to use Hank returned to the livingroom and put his hand on Connor's shoulder to help support the weak deviant's weight, and then wrapped his free palm around Connor's forehead to check on his fever once more.

"Shit, son." Patting Connor's back lightly Hank waited for the deviant to finish being sick before doing anything else. "You're burning up!"

"O-Overheating." Spitting the nastiness from his mouth and into the bucket Connor sighed and slumped back against the couch cushions heavily as Hank pulled his hands back. "...I'm overheating."

"Same thing." Sympathetic to Connor's plight Hank sighed and walked into the kitchen to get the deviant some chilled Thirium and more ice. Picking up both the Thirium and the green tinted medication from the refrigerator then an ice pack from the freezer, Hank returned to the livingroom to tend to his sick friend throughout the early morning hours. "I know you hate it, but you have to drink it."

Giving the green medication an annoyed side-eye Connor felt his already sore stomach turning at the very idea of needing to drink it.

"Connor, you slept through your necessary dose at midnight." Reminding Connor that he was on a schedule Hank held the bottle out toward the deviant to take for himself. "You HAVE to drink this if you want to get better."

Lifting his shaking, heavy hand Connor hesitantly took the bottle of medication and closed his eyes as he took the vile tasting dose as expected. The harshness of the medication left a strangely burning sensation all the way down his throat and into his artificial stomach that made Connor curl around himself as if he were about to be sick all over again.

"It's okay, breathe." Hank encouraged as he took back the medicine and forced the chilled bottle of Thirium into Connor's hand in its place. "Drink that, it should help wash away the bad taste and be soothing in your stomach."

Doing again as he was instructed Connor downed the Thirium and didn't stop until the entire bottle was empty. The chilled Thirium seemed to be dousing the mini fire that the medicine had left behind in his artificial stomach and made the pain fade considerably.

"Good... That's good." Taking back the now empty bottle Hank pushed on Connor's shoulder to make him lay down again. Once the deviant was lying flat on his back again Hank smoothed the ice pack over Connor's too warm forehead to help him feel better. "Being sick sucks and having the flu sucks even more."

"...Now I understand why humans create a new flu vaccine every year."

"Yeah, go figure. Humans are capable of doing logical things every once in a while." Glancing at Sumo sleeping on his pillow in the corner of the livingroom Hank made sure Connor was laying over the length of the furniture and then patted the cushions beside Connor's legs. The sound was enough to awaken Sumo and draw his attention over to the couch. "Sumo, up!"

The massive Saint Bernard perked up at hearing his name and the invitation to cuddle. Rising from his bed Sumo yawned, stretched out his large body and then plodded over to the couch to jump up and cuddle with the ill deviant for a while.

"Good boy." Hank patted Sumo's back while Connor rubbed the dog's chin. "You can't sweat your fever out like humans can, but having a giant furry space heater beside you can still be a comforting feeling."

Sumo thumped his tail a few times happily before he stretched out alongside Connor and rested his chin down over the deviant's sore stomach sympathetically.

Parroting Hank's earlier comment Connor closed his eyes and kept his hand on Sumo's neck. "...Good boy."

"Go back to sleep." Replacing the blanket over Connor and now Sumo to keep them both comfortable Hank sighed and decided it was time to get breakfast ready for Cole. It was the last day of school before Cole would get his Thanksgiving break. "I'll check on you in a couple more hours. Okay?"

Already asleep Connor didn't say anything to the senior detective, to his friend, taking care of him.

"Yeah, okay."

Putting the medicine back into the refrigerator Hank smirked at the sight of Connor passed out asleep with Sumo sprawled out beside him as he prepared to make some bacon and eggs for breakfast.

"Feel better, son. Hope you can still enjoy the holidays with us this year."

Taking a break from his reports on his laptop just before noon Hank stretched out his shoulders and rubbed his hand through his gray hair as he rose from the chair behind the desk in the study. Rising to his feet Hank grumbled a little as the quiet of the house left him relatively unnerved but quickly fell back into his new routine of taking care of the sick deviant. Walking into the bathroom Hank fished an old digital thermometer out of the first aid kit beneath the sink and carried it with him into the livingroom. Placing the digital thermometer in Connor's mouth and taking the melted ice pack from the deviant's forehead without rousing Connor from his sleep in the process, Hank returned to the kitchen to put the thawed ice pack back into the freezer. He then retrieved the dreaded medicine from the fridge once again to hand over to Connor to take.

Just as Hank returned to the livingroom the thermometer 'beeped' and he took it from Connor's mouth to read the number for himself. The high fever was starting to finally drop and would hopefully break entirely very soon.

"One-hundred point two degrees. Much better!"

"Yes, I'm starting to feel better as well." Opening his eyes Connor awake from his sleep and immediately homed in on the bright green liquid of the dreaded Thiricetomal in Hank's grip. Once more glaring at the bottle of medication the recovering deviant accepted the bottle and took his next dose right on time without protest. Grimacing openly at the foul taste Connor's brow furrowed and he did his best to not spit the Thiricetomal onto the floor. "...I still dislike this medication."

"Yeah, but you have to admit it does work. Your temperature's almost back to normal."

"I will admit it, but that doesn't mean I have to like it."

"Smartass." Capping the bottle Hank made his way back to the kitchen to put the rest of the medicine away. Opening the backdoor Hank let Sumo outside, the massive dog eagerly jumping off the couch to get outside before he had an accident, then poured fresh food into Sumo's bowl. "You fell asleep before the movie ended last night. Want to watch what you missed?"

"Yes." The idea of seeing the story's ending was very appealing to the sick but recovering deviant. "I'd like to see the conclusion."

"Cool." As he filled up Sumo's water bowl under the tap in the kitchen Hank heard the large dog scramble back inside after taking care of business and closed the door behind him. After putting the water down Hank patted Sumo's back again then strolled into the livingroom casually. "I love this movie. I can watch it every day without getting bored with it. Cole on the other hand would insist we watch something new every night."

From the couch Connor slowly sat upright and wrapped the blue blanket around himself as he glanced about the livingroom and noticed everything Hank had done for him since they returned home the previous afternoon. Not only had Hank made sure he was recovering well from his android-flu, but Hank had made sure Connor was safe and comfortable during his recovery. Everything Hank had done had come from the goodness of his heart, not an order from Captain Fowler simply because they were assigned as partners or because Hank wanted to impress Cole.

Hank really was his friend despite everything that had previously happened.

'Markus.' Reaching out to his friend cybernetically again Connor let Markus know of his condition. 'I'm recovering well. How is Chase?'

'He's holding his own. He's still unconscious, but according to Dr. Grayson he's undamaged. I'm going to ask for Lucy to visit him and help us figure out what we need to do to ensure he's really okay.'

'Thank you. When Lucy is ready to go see Chase let me know, I want to be there for him.'

'You got it.'

'Anything happening at New Jericho I should know?'

'The emergency repair bay is up and running with both Simon and Lucy taking shifts to tend to our people.' Markus was more than happy to share the good news with his friend and fellow leader. 'Josh has created a community area where therapy sessions regarding our emotions and past experiences can help deviants who are struggling to cope with what's happened. North is attempting to locate the other deviants who went into hiding across the border to ensure they can come back to Detroit safely. And I have a few more meetings with the mayor to handle in the next two weeks.'

'Everyone's busy and everyone has their own role to play.' Such progress truly made Connor's heart feel warm. 'That's good to know.'

'Let me know when you're ready to visit with Chase, I'll do whatever I can to help you help him find himself.'

'Thank you, Markus.' Having so much support and assistance left Connor feeling as if he finally found the place where he truly belonged, and it was the place he didn't think he'd ever have for himself: A family. 'I'll speak to you again soon.'

Watching the senior detective plopping down in the recliner again Connor wanted to express his gratitude properly. "Hank?"

Hearing his name as opposed to being address by his title was something Hank immediately noticed as he gave Connor his full attention. "Yeah?"

"Thank you."

"It's not a problem, kid."

"Maybe not, but I still want to thank you." Truly gracious and appreciative Connor wanted his friend to know how he felt about everything Hank has done for him without asking for anything in return. "You've really helped me, and I suspect that I could have ended up in worse condition due to my own unwillingness to accept my medication as instructed. So, thank you for helping me and for essentially saving me from myself."

"You're welcome, son." Appreciative of the thanks in his own way Hank kicked up his feet as he opened the footrest of the recliner and resumed the movie where Connor had fallen asleep the night before. "Besides, you saved me from becoming a completely insufferable jackass, so I guess now we're even. Right?"

"Potentially." Understanding what Hank was hinting toward Connor agreed and managed a weak grin of gratitude and amusement just as Sumo returned to the livingroom and sat down at his feet requesting some ear rubs and chin scratches. "We're almost even."

"Smartass." Chuckling at the witty retort Hank pressed 'play' on the movie. "If you're being a smartass then you're definitely on the road to recovery. Think you'll be able to help us out with all the cooking this Thanksgiving again? You're one Hell of a chef in your own right."

"I think I can do that. But I may not have the day off this year."

"That's right, you're officially a detective now." A proud grin graced Hank's lips as he heard the school bus outside stop along the street to drop Cole off. Since it was the last day of school before a small vacation the school was only a half-day long meaning Cole got to go home almost three hours early. "Well, hopefully one of us will get the day off in two days. I guess it's up to Fowler to determine which of us gets the holiday off and which of us needs to work."

"You take the day off, and I'll work." The front door open and Cole happily joined Connor on the couch and gave his deviant friend a big smile. "I've been off due to being sick, and you deserve a day with your son. Family is important."

"You're family too, Connor." Hank didn't even skip a beat or have to wait for Cole to say it on his behalf. "Don't sell yourself short. We may not have the same colored blood, but we are definitely a family after everything we've gone through. And nothing, not even another Revolution, is ever going to change that."

-next chapter-