It was still late fall and yet Detroit was struck by a powerful early winter blizzard. Snow completely covered the actively changing city under yet another thick sheet of pure whiteness as Hank and Connor walked to the scene of grizzly crime along the riverbanks under the bridge at a local dog park. What looked like an android - a deviant to be exact - who had been beaten and burned to death was laying on the icy shore of the partially frozen river with a barricade of holographic police tape surrounding the tragically destroyed and mutilated body. The crime had been brutal, effective and remote enough that no one would've been able to aid the deviant if they had been able to call out for help and plead for their life. It was clear that the brutality of the murder meant it was a personal attack, and one that would be remembered for years to come by the detectives investigating the incident.

Chris and Gavin had been the first officers at the scene after the crime was reported by a traumatized dogwalker, but they decided it'd be best to pass the case off to Connor and Hank as the duo specialized in cases regarding deviants. Gavin himself scoffed upon seeing Connor arrive as he still hated working with androids in general, but the difference was now with the new laws put in place by Markus and the successful Revolution, Gavin couldn't mess with Connor or threaten him without getting disciplinary action by Captain Fowler or worse, by Hank.

"'Bout damn time you two showed up." Gavin sneered as Connor and Hank professionally approached the destroyed body to investigate. As he snarled at Connor his breath escaped in a white fog and disappeared into the cold night around him. "I have better things to do than babysit a broken piece of plastic."

"Shut up Gavin," Hank growled back without any hesitation. "I'm tired of hearing you bitch about androids." The seasoned Lieutenant scolded Gavin as he and Connor stepped through the projection of police tape to do their jobs as required of them. "Beat it. We got this."

"Don't fuck it up." Needing to get in the last word Gavin growled at Hank as he grabbed Chris's arm to try to drag his much kinder partner back to the patrol car to leave the scene. Unfortunately for Gavin, Chris wasn't nearly as childish as he was and stayed put for a minute longer. "I don't want to clean up any of your messes in the morning."

"Fuck off." Gruff and annoyed, Hank barked shouted in such a way his voice echoed with authority over the frozen river and across the park. "That's an order, asshole."

"I'm going, I'm going!" Not wanting to deal with another verbal reprimand from Captain Fowler at the precinct, Gavin begrudgingly walked away. "Don't have a fuckin' heart attack old man."

"What a dick." Hank muttered under his icy breath as he watched Connor crouch down to examine the body. A white blanket had been draped over the body, a courtesy toward the victim undoubtedly by Chris, and Connor gently pulled it aside as he began his investigation. "Let's get this underway and out of here as quick as possible. I don't want to freeze my nuts off."

Chris, respectful as always, just nodded to Hank as he passed his superior officer to join Gavin at their car a few yards away. "Goodnight, Lieutenant."

"Yeah, goodnight, Chris." Waving the much more bearable officer off Hank focused entirely on the body at the scene. "All right, what've we got here Connor?" Hank asked as he watched Connor's studious gaze with a keen interest of his own. "Accident, murder, or suicide?"

The deviant's blue L.E.D. flickered to yellow for a beat as he answered the question in an emotionless tone. "Murder."

"Fuck. That's what I figured it'd be."

"The victim was in fact a deviant." As he spoke Connor suddenly sounded uncharacteristically melancholy rather than analytical as he scanned the crime scene. The deviant detective's L.E.D. transitioned from blue to yellow again as he began his scan and successfully identified the victim. "Her name was 'Vanessa'. She was one of the former 'Tracis' from the now struggling 'Eden Club'. The place will be shutdown permanently in the spring."

"Ah, shit. She must've tried to escape from a client when he passed out drunk or something. That place can't shut down soon enough." Letting out a deep sigh that escaped in a thick white mist, Hank crossed his arms over his chest and redirected his attention to the cause of the deviant's shutdown and away from the skimpy trademarked clothing of that vile club that barely spared the victim's modesty. "What can you tell me about her death?"

"There is significant damage to her forearms."

"Defensive wounds." Eyeing the painful marks as Connor picked up Vanessa's mangled arms gently one at time Hank recognized the signs of someone trying to block an assault and defend themself. It was clearly not enough. "She put up her arms to try to keep whoever was assaulting her from hitting her. Defensive wounds."

"Correct." Lightly returning Vanessa's arms to the ground Connor pointed to the right side of her burnt and battered face. "Her right optical unit is missing and there is significant damage to the ocular plate surrounding it."

"The killer beat her." Putting the pieces into place Hank had an idea of what happened to their victim leading up to her premature death. "They punched her in the face to try to stun her."

"Her left leg had been broken at the knee as well from blunt force trauma. Most likely from a vehicle striking her from behind." Connor continued his assessment in a dreary, disappointed voice as he checked the victim's body for all signs of injury. "I can also detect trace amounts of dirt under her fingernails and all over her palms. She has tears in the artificial skin covering her palms prior to being burned, which means she continued to try and fight back until the bitter end."

"The sick-fucker busted her leg and she tried to crawl away from him. I guess the bastard didn't pass out at the club after all. They drove her out her with the intent to kill her." Dragging his hand over his bearded chin Hank huffed with utter disappointment and looked down at the poor victim. She was tortured before dying in such a horrific way that Hank felt his stomach turning with nausea. "This was a premeditated murder. Do you know what it was that ultimately killed her?"

"It was the impact to her spinal support column that caused her to shutdown." Scanning over Vanessa's body to be as thorough as possible Connor stated the facts with a heavy tone as he identified her exact cause of shutdown. "After she shutdown, she was set on fire with a butane accelerant and a match in attempt to hide the murder and disfigure the body beyond all recognition."

"At least she was already dead when he lit her on fire." That particular fact only gave Hank a modicum of solace in Vanessa's horrific death. "Can you find any trace of her killer?"

"There is a partial right handprint around her throat." The deviant's enhanced vision allowed him to see the details that Hank couldn't see with his average human eyes. "The fire caused her artificial skin to melt and retain a perfect copy of the suspect's handprint as a result."

"Any fingerprints we can use?"

"Yes. I'm scanning them now in an attempt to find a match." Staying crouched down Connor's L.E.D. rapidly flashed in yellow as he accessed the precinct's criminal database. Turns out the suspect already had an impressive criminal record. "The prints are a match to Jack Stapleton. He's been arrested four times for drunken and disorderly conduct, and three times for assault against his now ex-wife. He was released from prison four months ago and was supposed to be on probation for the next three years."

"Got his address?"

"I'm currently transmitting his address to Chris as we speak. He and Gavin can arrest him while we finish examining the crime scene and collecting the evidence."

Glancing about the snowy ground Hank found it difficult to fathom finding anything else of use beyond the victim's scorched remains. "What's left to examine?"

"Without substantial evidence beyond a single handprint connecting the suspect to the victim, the odds of successfully convicting Stapleton for the murder of a deviant are substantially against our favor. The new laws and rights won't be full enacted until March 1st, and as a result we need to be able to prove that Stapleton alone is the killer without there being any room for doubt regarding his guilt."

"Okay. You keep checking around here, I'm going to backtrack up the hill to see if I can find the exact direction she ran from." Using his thumb Hank pointed back over his shoulder to indicate where he'd be looking for more evidence. The snowy ground would make it a little easier to follow a trail of footsteps and get an idea of where the victim had run before she had been killed. "There has to be footprints and tire tracks to Stapleton's vehicle we can use, too."

"Okay, Lieutenant." Giving his partner a simple nod Connor decided to cybernetically scan over the area surrounding the body. "I'll try to locate more evidence around our victim and along the river. I doubt our suspect managed to fully dispose of any evidence linking him to the murder."

While Hank walked up the snowy hill Connor replaced the sheet over Vanessa's body and remained beside the body as he checked all around the snowy ground for other pieces of evidence to connect the killer to the victim. It was a difficult task that Connor was determined to complete and find justice for Vanessa.

Too many shoe prints had been marred by snow and ice to be of any use for even the keen-eyed deviant detective to decipher. The match that had been struck and used to light the fire that destroyed Vanessa's body was completely burned to ash and held no prints in the thin wooden material. The remaining book of matches was nowhere to be seen, nor was the container that held the accelerant used to burn the body.

Connor stood up carefully and backed away from the body near the shore of the river to get a wider view of the crime scene. Crossing out on to the ice covering the river for a few yards to examine the immediate area with a wider perspective, Connor had also unintentionally paced himself further away from his partner. As he backed further out onto the ice Connor was able to scan the immediate area for more clues but failed to see any sign of the suspect.

"Perhaps if we-"

There was a sudden and subtle 'crack' from Connor's weight atop the ice as the top sheet began to split like a spiderweb all around Connor's shoes. In response to the sudden shift in his environment, Connor's blue L.E.D. flashed to yellow once more as his scanners checked the overall density of the ice underfoot and found it too unstable and thin to be tread safely.

A realization that came a little too late.

"Oh, shi-"

The ice suddenly gave way beneath Connor plunging the deviant detective straight down into the icy river in a matter of seconds. As his body passed under the surface of the surprisingly deep water, all of Connor's visual sensors flashed red with warnings about the dangerously cold temperature threatening to freeze his biocomponents and his Thirium as his core temperature began to decline rapidly.

The freezing cold temperature had stunned Connor's reflexes and left him at a loss of what to do. The intense and smothering chill felt like a thousand needles stabbing through Connor's artificial skin as his deviancy allowed him to truly feel and acknowledge the extreme temperatures of the world around him. The deathly cold water quickly constricted the Thirium lines in his appendages and limbs making it difficult to move as it seemed to squeeze his ventilation biocomponents - his artificial lungs - making it almost impossible to instinctively hold his breath.

Fighting against the restraining cold, forcing his limbs into motion, Connor swam back to the surface of the river and through the narrow gap in the ice from where he had fallen through. The L.E.D. in his temple was blood red and frantically flashing as his systems began to slip into a type of thermal shock that Connor had to fight to focus through as he dismissed dozens upon dozens of warnings in his eyes.

Clinging desperately onto the edge of the slippery, unstable ice with both of his freezing, nearly numb hands, Connor called out as loudly as he could to his partner for assistance.

"HANK! H-HANK!"

The deviant's panicked voice was shaking and stammering from the relentless cold that was already beginning to overtake him.

"I N-NEED HELP! PL-PLEASE!"

From atop the hill Hank heard the desperation in Connor's voice calling out to him and his every paternal instinct that had been dormant for almost three years suddenly kicked in with full force. Glancing around the area for Connor, for the sound of the cry for help, Hank felt his heart drop as he realized that he he lost track of his partner after just a few seconds of walking away from the river.

"Connor?"

Looking back down at the crime scene from the hill's steep incline Hank didn't see Connor anywhere near the victim but he did catch a glimpse of a bright red light glowing out a few feet from the shoreline and into the river. It didn't take Hank long to figure out where Connor had gone and why he suddenly needed help. Taking off in a quick run through the ankle-deep snow wasn't easy for the man to perform. Even with the slick snow and ice underfoot Hank made his way back to the river as quickly as possible to save Connor and pull him out of the freezing cold river.

"Oh, shit! Hang on, kid!"

The frozen deviant was losing his grip on the slick surface of the ice as his non-vital biocomponents began to shut down one by one to keep warmth and Thirium flowing to the necessary biocomponents that were crucial to proper function. Struggling to keep himself from slipping back into the water Connor gasped and wheezed as the biting cold painfully limited his movements, keeping him prey to the lethally cold river. Each breath in felt like Connor was inhaling shards of ice that only made him feel colder and colder with each panicked gasp he sucked into his vents.

"H-Hank!""

Connor's voice was audibly shaking from the cold and his hands and feet were becoming numb and losing strength. Forcing himself to shout even louder Connor tried again to call for help even as his blurring vision detected the motion of someone rushing down to the river toward him.

"HANK! P-Please... I... I need y-your help!"

"Connor?" Hank managed to reach the bottom of the hill and was standing on the ice right next to the shore of the river. Trying to think of a way to help Connor without falling in the river himself Hank had to pause and think on his feet. "I'll get you out, son! Just hold on! Let me think..."

"P-PLEASE!" Desperate to escape the water Connor pleaded with Hank to help him as he reached out cold, shaking hand toward the man. "I C-CAN'T-"

"Don't panic." Staying impressively calm himself Hank shouted as he shrugged off his heavy dark coat and knelt on the ice to try to distribute his own weight more evenly without causing it to break apart any further. Holding onto one sleeve of his coat Hank tossed the garment outward toward Connor, the opposite sleeve coming to a rest just a few centimeters from the deviant's fingertips, to act as a lifeline. "Grab on and I'll pull you out!"

Barely able to see the offered coat Connor just responded with fear thick in his shaking words. "I C-CAN'T!"

"Yes you can." Refusing to give up on the deviant Hank encouraged Connor sincerely to try to grab the coat as he watched the deviant struggling to save himself from the icy grip of the cold water. Hank knew Connor was running out of time and that he'd go into some kind of shock if he didn't get out of the water soon. "Go on! Grab it and I'll pull you out of the water. It's right there, you can do it."

It took every ounce of strength Connor could muster to make his numb hand move even the slightest centimeter toward the coat. Slowly the deviant's frozen, paled fingertips brushed against the dry fabric of the coat and weakly grabbed onto the cuff of the sleeve in a trembling grip. It was hard to see through all of the red error messages filling his vision and even harder to feel anything as his body went numb.

"Come on, Connor." The loud shouts were a mix of encouragement and orders. "Grab on! Hold TIGHT."

Using his arm to brace against the surface of the ice to push himself up barely an inch out of the water and onto the unstable icy surface of the rest of the frozen river, Connor rested on his chest and reached with his second hand for the coat as best as he could to get a better grip on the garment. It was difficult to grab onto anything thanks to the numbing cold taking away the strength and feeling in his hands.

"That's it! You almost got it." Patiently Hank waited for Connor to make that one final grab so he could pull him back to the shoreline and out of the lethally cold water to safety. "Come on! You're almost there!"

Connor forced both of his frozen, weakened hands to wrap around the offered sleeve and tighten his hands into fists as his biocomponents continued to seize up and shutdown due to the extreme cold. The Thirium cycling through his lines was beginning to slow as the blue blood began to freeze from a pure liquid into a thin slush that was becoming increasingly difficult to flow and circulate.

"Hold on as tightly as you can!" Bracing himself on the shore Hank was ready to drag Connor out of the water and back on to the shoreline. "I'm going to pull you out of the water. Let me do all the work, you just hang on."

The moment Hank felt Connor's weight tug on the coat he began pulling the offered garment back toward the shoreline hand over hand like a sturdy rope to pull the deviant out of the water. Instinctively Connor tried to use his legs to kick and swim, but his limbs were too cold to be of any use.

"Almost got you, just a little more..." Hank huffed out another cloud of his chilled breath as he shifted his weight backward and pulled with all of his might to heft the deviant back out of the water and onto the ice toward the shore. Connor was halfway out of the water but still in danger as Hank kept pulling on the coat to get the frozen deviant to safety. "There! You're out of the water."

Unable to control his numb body Connor slid forward a few inches on the slippery surface on his stomach, and then curled around himself as he rolled onto his side in a desperate bid to keep warm. His hands were still hanging on to the coat sleeve for dear life as Hank pulled Connor further toward the shoreline and off of the fragile layer of ice beneath. Laying just a few inches from Hank as he was pulled to safety, the frozen deviant was eternally grateful to have the human watching his back on that frightfully cold night.

"I got you, son. I got you..." Hank soothed as he wrapped his arms around Connor's chest and began slowly, carefully dragging the deviant on his back across the remaining ice, and back to the much more stable shore just behind him. The Lieutenant didn't even flinch at the cold water soaking in to his own clothing or say anything about Connor dragged the coat alongside him as he was dragged to safety. "It's okay, I got you."

"C-Cold!" Connor stammered between his chattering teeth as his entire body reacted negatively to the extremely low temperature that consumed him relentlessly over his entire person. Unable to move or feel anything beyond his forearms and shins, Connor was almost completely helpless. "T-Too c-cold..."

"Don't worry, I'll get you warmed up."

"S-Sorry! So s-sorry..." Connor all but burst as he felt a shame of embarrassment wash over him. "I w-was f-foolish! D-Didn't check th-the ice! I'm a f-fool!"

"No, you're not Connor, you're just headstrong." Still entirely calm about the odd situation Hank clarified everything sympathetically as he dragged Connor back to safety and onto the snowy ground of the park away from the river. The Oldsmobile was only a few feet away from where the two detectives currently were. "Accidents happen, that's all. It was just an accident..."

Once on stable ground Hank pried the coat sleeve from Connor's frozen hands and draped the coat around the deviant's shaking shoulders to try to get him as warm as possible. Guiding the trembling deviant up to his feet and away from the river back toward the car on his trembling, partially numb legs, Hank walked at Connor's side and rubbed both of his hands along Connor's shoulders and upper arms hoping to create some friction heat that would possibly do the dangerously chilled deviant some good.

Using one hand Hank grabbed his radio from his belt and requested another officer to the scene of the crime so that he could take care of Connor instead. Hastily explaining the situation Hank didn't wait for a response as the duo reached the Oldsmobile together to get to warmth and transportation.

"Here, here, here... We're at the car."

Quickly Hank opened the passenger side door of the Oldsmobile and sat Connor down inside on the front seat. The frozen deviant nearly collapsed into the car as his legs finally gave out entirely from the extreme cold sapping away his strength. Rushing to the other side of the car Hank got behind the wheel and turned the key in the ignition to turn over the engine to warm the aged vehicle up. As the engine roared to life Hank turned up the heat in the car to its maximum temperature and pointed the vents directly at Connor to ensure he'd warm up as quickly as possible. The sooner the hypothermia was countered the sooner Connor could be able to recover.

"I'll get you warmed up, just stay awake, okay?" Flexing his cold hands for a minute, Hank tightened his grip on the steering wheel as he prepared to drive back to the house and away from the park. "Don't fall asleep on me."

"H-H-Hank?" Connor wheezed as he began shivering violently and found it somewhat difficult to breathe. "Wh-What's ha-happening to m-me?"

"You're hypothermic, kid." Aware of what was going on Hank explained calmly as he backed the car up on the snowy trail and turned around to get out onto the street leading back to the city. "It's a normal reaction to dangerously cold temperatures. Just be calm and you'll be fine."

"I d-don't unders-stand." Overwhelmed by the cold and his failing systems Connor sounded like a frightened child which only encouraged Hank to drive faster back to their home. "A-Androids d-don't f-feel p-pain! Or c-cold!"

"Right, but deviants do."

"I d-don't like th-this." Staring through error messages in his vision Connor looked down at his hands in shock. His icy fingertips had turned blue as his artificial skin had been damaged by the extreme icy temperature. Small patches of the artificial skin were missing allowing the white plastimetal frame to be seen around the damaged blue tinted artificial skin. "H-How do I m-make it stop?"

"You can't. All you can do is wait until you warm back up over time." Calmly Hank put his own hand over the heater to ensure that the temperature was indeed maxed out, then pressed the back of his hand to the side of Connor's neck. It was like touching a block of solid ice. "I can help you, but you have to listen to me."

Unable to do anything else Connor readily agreed to let Hank help him. "I'm l-listening."

"Good. First, stay awake. If you fall asleep you might make your condition worse."

Despite the idea of going to sleep to escape the cold, Connor knew that Hank was right and that he needed to remain awake. "O-Okay."

"Next, keep your hands by the heater and let the heat itself get to your chest. Your internal systems and everything else in there needs to warm back up before anything else, got it?"

"Y-Yes." Connor lifted his hands toward the vents, forcing his numb fingers to extend so his palms could absorb the heat, then fought the urge to remain uncurled around himself so the heat could reach his chest and abdomen as Hank instructed. He was so weak thanks to his Thirium partially freezing in his lines and could barely move where he sat. "...H-H-Hurts to m-move."

"I know, but you're doing the right thing."

"...I'm s-scared."

At those words Hank himself felt a little scared as well. Connor had always been so sure of himself - confident, if not bullheaded. To hear him speaking with such a sincerely frightened tone was almost heartbreaking to the senior detective. It reminded him too much of frightened runaway teens who were unsure of who they could trust after fleeing abusive situations to live on their own.

"I d-don't want t-to d-die." Truly afraid Connor confessed his fear in a manner that Hank had never heard from any deviant before. "N-Not like th-this... N-Not in the cold!"

"You're going to be okay, Connor." Hank reached out again and put his palm on Connor's trembling shoulder. He could feel that even under his heavy coat that Connor's gray blazer and white dress shirt were soaked through entirely, which he also knew was only going to keep Connor colder longer. "As soon as I get you back home, you'll be warmed up in no time, all right?"

Connor only nodded weakly as his glazed over brown eyes began to close against his will. Thanks to the cold his energy was dwindling away frighteningly fast.

"No! Connor!" Immediately Hank saw Connor's heavy eyelids closing and began to shout to keep the deviant alert. "Stay awake! That's an order!"

"I... c-can't."

"Hey!" Hank lightly slapped the side of Connor's face as he turned onto the final block leading to the house. "AWAKE. Eyes OPEN."

In spite of his fatigue Connor obeyed the order, albeit with difficulty. The red warnings in front of his vision were all staticky and each one suggested falling into rest mode to conserve his energy.

"Come on, we're almost there. You can make it."

Staying in control Hank parked in the driveway beside the house, threw the car in to park and turned off the engine. After opening his door he raced around to the passenger side of the car to help the frozen deviant back to his feet. It was then Hank saw Connor's eyes beginning to shut again. Reacting quickly Hank put his hand under Connor's chin and lifted his head up to make Connor lock eyes with him.

"EYES OPEN, CONNOR. NOW."

Again, Connor tried to keep his eyes open, but he was too weak from the cold.

"C-can't-" A garbled static stole his words as his voice modulator shutdown from the cold. "C-Cant... Trying."

"Damn it, you have to hold on." The senior detective grabbed on to Connor's arm and pulled the icy cold limb around his shoulders quickly. While carrying the frozen deviant at his side Hank practically kicked down his own backdoor causing Sumo to bark in response to the aggressive sound. "We're home, you're going to be fine."

Hefting the deviant's deadweight through the kitchen and down the hallway, Hank pulled away his coat, it had already turned ice cold from being in contact with Connor's soaked frame, and then set about getting Connor warmed up. Moving quickly and with purpose Hank sat the deviant down with moderate difficulty on the edge of the bathtub as soon as they were inside the bathroom. With Connor now sitting down Hank was able to slip his arms under the Connor's legs and under his shoulders so he could gently pick him up in his arms long enough to lay him down inside the tub without dropping him by accident.

"Connor?"

Pressing his palm to the side of Connor's cold face Hank studied the red blinking L.E.D. for only a moment before returning to the task at hand.

"Damn it, don't you give up. Stay with me, kid."

Relying on his emergency training to guide him Hank and turned on the warm water in the bathtub causing a cascade to flow from the showerhead and checked the temperature to make sure it wasn't too extreme as to cause thermal shock to Connor's systems which were already strained from the cold. As the warm shower drenched the semiconscious deviant in a comforting heat Hank went into his bedroom down the hallway to fetch some dry clothes for Connor to change into to get warm and stay warm throughout the night.

Connor remained quiet as he laid in the tub and dismissed the dozens of superfluous warnings that practically blinded his visual sensors in red. Even Sumo's curious presence as the large dog briefly looked into the bathtub then backed out of the bathroom didn't elicit a response from the hypothermic and dazed deviant.

"Hang on, son."

Determined to save his friend's life Hank returned to the bathroom with the fresh dry clothes and put them on the sink. Grabbing every towel that he had from the shelf and rack on the nearby wall, Hank knelt beside the tub and pressed the back of his hand to the side of Connor's neck to check on his progress. The deviant's artificial skin felt warmer than it had back at the park, but he was not warm enough just yet.

"Connor, look at me. You need to look at me for a moment, son."

Hearing Hank's voice though his mental fog, Connor's brown eyes slowly opened but only partially. His irises were still glazed over with icy fatigue that made him appear horrifically like a corpse as he stared ahead blankly at nothing as he failed to focus on anything or anyone in particular.

Using a gentle touch Hank's placed his hands at the sides of Connor's face as he gently turned the deviant's head to make his eye contact.

"Connor? You still with me?"

Unable to speak, his voice modulator cold and strained, had failed him entirely. All Connor could do was nod his head weakly in response.

"Good, that's good."

Awkwardly Hank grabbed on to the lapels of Connor's gray blazer and pushed it open, and then back over Connor's shoulders. It was a clumsy endeavor, but Hank managed to slip Connor's arms out of the sleeves of the blazer one by one, freeing them from the first layer of the icy cold fabric. Loosening Connor's black tie next, Hank tossed the dressy garment aside without a care over his shoulder toward the sink and then worked on getting the rest of the cold clothes off of Connor's frozen body.

"Connor, do you know where you are?"

Pulling off Connor's shoes and socks the senior detective watched Connor's reactions very carefully for any sign of change whether it was positive or negative.

"Connor, I need a response from you."

The deviant couldn't speak yet, but he could still hear and understand Hank's words. Again, he nodded to acknowledge Hank's words.

"Good."

Moving his hands up to the white dress shirt Hank pulled open the buttons and watched Connor's very shallow breathing with a studious stare.

"You're going to be fine."

As the white shirt was slipped from Connor's arms the deviant began to fall asleep, his head bowing forward near Hank's arms.

"No, damn it, Connor. Stay AWAKE. At least for a few more minutes..."

Exhausted to the brink of unconsciousness, Connor's eyes blinked slowly but he straightened his posture slightly and stared forward at the yellow tile wall while Hank continued to fuss with removing his river-soaked jeans next. The severity of Connor's hypothermia was proving to be a nearly unbearable foe to battle.

"You're lucky, you know that?"

Hank stated as a means of keeping Connor's attention while also distracting himself from the unusual responsibility he needed to handle. As the jeans and belt were finally slipped away from Connor's legs Hank just left them in the bottom of the tub. He'd deal with the wet clothes after he took care of his friend.

"Most people who fall in an icy river sink right to the bottom. They go into shock from the intense cold and drown before anyone can reach them."

The deviant stayed quiet at what was supposed to be a comforting thought. Normally Connor would've done a cybernetic search regarding the statistics of drowning, hypothermia and the odds of survival, but instead he remained entirely silent and unresponsive to Hank's efforts to help him recover from his current plight.

Pressing the back of his hand to the side of Connor's neck again Hank checked the deviant's temperature and was happy to feel a consistent heat radiating from Connor's person. He couldn't be sure what the deviant's internal temperature was at the moment but having him feeling warmer by touch alone was a good sign.

"Much better. You're doing good, kid."

Satisfied that Connor was no longer in immediate danger Hank turned off the water and pulled Connor out of the tub by his forearms and onto the floor beside the tub. The way Connor's body remained entirely limp as he practically flopped out of the tub was disconcerting. Wrapping a towel around the deviant's shoulders, another around his torso, a third around his legs and a fourth around his neck, Hank practically buried the shivering deviant under a pile of warm dry towels as he did his best to keep Connor awake and as alert as possible before letting Connor lean back and rest against the side of the tub.

"Hey, talk to me."

Refusing to give up Hank urged the deviant to remain conscious as he put his fingers under Connor's chin again and lifted his head upward until they were eye to eye.

"Say something, anything, kid. Please."

Still weak and somewhat confused Connor visibly swallowed once as if testing the biocomponent that functioned as his voice modulator before trying to say anything as requested. "...Th-Thanks."

"Don't thank me just yet." Hank smiled as he grabbed the dry clothes off of the sink and shook them out. "These should fit you. These are my old clothes back from when I was in high school. Not sure why I held on to them, but they should fit ya'."

Connor's shaking, partially skinless hand rose up from beneath the thick towels and took hold of the offered black t-shirt at the top of the folded clothes pile. The band 'The Knights of the Black Death' was scrawled over the front of the shirt in faded red text and had aged poorly from constant wear and washing. Almost on a form of autopilot Connor managed to slip the collar of the shirt over his head and neck, but his arms were still too cold and clumsy to properly slip them through the short sleeves to dress himself. Shivering didn't help matters even as he dried off and was spared from any further exposure to the cold.

"Here." Without any hesitation Hank volunteered to aid the deviant and guided Connor's hands and arms appropriately through the sleeves, then pulled on the hem of the shirt down to cover Connor's back and his abdomen. "That's better. That'll help you keep warm."

The dark gray sweatpants and thick socks were much easier for Connor to manage to slip on with his own strength much to their mutual relief. Connor was already embarrassed enough about falling through the ice, the last thing he needed was to be dressed like he was naive toddler who needed to be constantly supervised by a responsible parent.

Now covered in warm, dry clothes Connor felt much more comfortable where he sat. Even so, he was still reluctant to let go of the thick towels that had kept him covered from head to toe after getting out of the bathtub.

"Let's get you into the livingroom. Up you go." Offering Connor his hand Hank insisted on getting the hypothermic deviant moving a little bit to try to warm up faster without overexerting his previously frozen limbs. "It'll be more comfortable for you on the couch than the floor."

With a trembling hand Connor accepted Hank's grip and awkwardly stood up on his still somewhat numb and shaking legs. Leaning heavily against Hank's arm as if he was sick or drunk, Connor allowed the senior detective to lead him back out of the bathroom and down the hallway to the livingroom where Sumo was patiently waiting for some attention from the detective duo.

"Sit here." Guiding Connor around the house Hank placed Connor down on the couch and watched as the deviant fell over to lay on his side and promptly curled around himself protectively. "I'll get you some blankets." Before Hank walked out of the livingroom he glanced down at Sumo and patted the end of the couch by Connor's legs. "Sumo, up! We need ya', your furry space heater."

The large Saint Bernard happily hopped up onto the couch and laid down next to Connor's legs, resting his chin on Connor's hip as the deviant continued to shiver from the lingering cold. Sumo's breed made him perfect for aiding someone who was suffering from hypothermia as his thick fur and large body had been specifically bred to resist the cold and wind.

Taking every spare blanket he could find in the house; from his own bedroom, the unoccupied guest bedroom, the linen closet and the laundry room, Hank returned with the massive bundle of fabric and proceeded to drape each blanket over Connor until the deviant was smothered under a layer of seven blankets and quilts. The abundance of blankets would've been comical had the situation not been so bleak.

Sumo was buried under the blankets as well, but the laidback dog just popped his head out from under the blankets, shook his ears a little, then laid his chin back down on Connor's hip casually as if nothing had happened. The way Sumo never stressed over anything was another trait of his breed.

"It may not feel like it right now, but you are going to be okay." The senior detective reaffirmed as he stared at the pulsing L.E.D. in Connor's temple flashing briefly to yellow before returning to red. "Connor, run a self-diagnostic for me."

The deviant's brows furrowed for a moment before smoothing out again as his L.E.D. rapidly blinked to yellow then back to red.

"Well?"

"C-Core temperature at ninety-two point two d-degrees." The deviant stated in a trembling voice. He was able to speak a little louder and clearer, but his voice was still shaking from the cold "...And r-rising."

"Is that good?"

"Y-Yes. My b-body temperature is the s-same as that of a h-human."

"Okay, so ninety-eight point six. We have a goal." Hank reached down and put his palm atop Connor's damp hair, then discreetly moved his hand down so that his palm was resting over Connor's forehead to do a temperature check of his own. It was reminiscent of the way he used to check for fevers whenever Cold had been sick. "What can I do to help you?"

"Y-You've done all th-that I need." Connor stated in a weak tone as he looked up at Hank with a blurry gaze. "Th-Thank you, Hank."

"You're welcome, son." Hank sat down in the recliner beside the couch and watched as Connor's L.E.D. returned to yellow and finally stayed yellow. His eyes then trailed over to the long dormant fireplace that he had turned into another shelf to hold up his random knickknacks with a sense of failure. "Man, I really wish I kept that fireplace clean and kept some firewood in stock. It'd come in handy right about now."

All Connor could do was let out a small hum to acknowledge Hank's comment as Connor had nothing to say about the manner.

"Now that you're warming up you can finally rest." Leaning back against the recliner Hank knew that Connor was exhausted and in need of some sleep. That would be the best way for the deviant to full recovery. "I'll do the same after I get an update from Chris at the crime scene."

Speaking up in a shaking voice Connor called out to his partner curiously. "H-Hank?"

"Yeah?"

"Have you g-gone through this, b-before?" The way Hank handled the situation was impressive to say the least. Even while hypothermic and dazed Connor was still able to notice a few interesting details about the situation at hand. "You s-seem to h-have a lot of experience with this t-type of s-scenario."

"Yeah... Once." Hank rubbed his now warm hand over his bearded chin and cleared his throat. "When I was about twelve, I was out ice fishing with my dad. Sure enough, being a dumb kid, I went out where I wasn't supposed to go, even after I had been warned not to do it. The ice was too thin, and I fell straight through. My dad pulled me out of the water, and I spent the next six hours huddled up under a mountain of blankets in front of the fireplace at the cabin he rented trying to keep me warm. I had never seen my dad so worried about me before in my entire life until that day."

"I'm g-glad you survived." The chattering of his teeth was beginning to lessen, but the strain on Connor's voice modulator was still evident. "That m-must've been f-frightening for y-you."

"A little, but I had my dad to help me feel better. Let me ask you something." Leaning forward in the recliner Hank studied Connor's behavior very carefully while also making sure the deviant's condition didn't suddenly deteriorate. "When I pulled you out of the water you said that you didn't want to die. I've seen you take a bullet and keep running back when we were handling deviant cases, and you never showed any sign of fear or uncertainty. So why did the cold scare you so much?"

"...A-Amanda." Connor replied honestly out of respect for his partner and friend. He didn't want to keep secrets or lie. "S-She tried to resume control over my p-programming on the night of th-the Revolution. Tried to m-make me kill Markus." That particular confession had been kept as a secret for a painfully long time and it felt good to finally let it out. "She tried to t-trap my c-consciousness in an icy w-wasteland inside m-my own mind. But I e-escaped and remained d-deviant."

"Oh my God. I didn't know that CyberLife could do that." The admission was something completely unexpected, yet beneficial for Hank to ease Connor's fear. "But you survived that night and everything that CyberLife tried to do to you, so you can and WILL survive this. You know that, right?"

"Y-Yes." Relaxing a little more on the couch Connor managed to adjust the small pillow against the arm of the couch under his head for support and comfort. "You're right."

"Are you really sure don't need anything else, son?" Hank knew Connor was still uncomfortable, if not miserable. "I think there's a heating pad in the hall closet I could get for you."

"I... don't need anything l-like that." Thinking for a moment Connor had only a single humble request for his friend after everything he went through. "...But will you stay with m-me?" Connor asked somberly as he tried to keep warm under his blankets and Sumo's thick fur. "I don't want to be alone right n-now."

"Yeah, sure." The request sounded almost too pathetic to be coming from Connor. The deviant had always shown terrific independence and never seemed to require company, but if Connor really was scared then it made sense that he wouldn't want to be left alone. Leaning back in the recliner again Hank tried to relax as much as possible as he decided to sleep in the recliner that night to keep an eye on Connor. "I'll stay with you."

"Thank you, H-Hank."

"You're welcome." The sight of Connor buried under blankets and Sumo would've been humorous under different circumstances. Right now, he just looked cold, miserable and weak. "Now get some sleep and warm up."

"I w-will try."

Flexing his old semi-arthritic hands a few times Hank felt the stinging cold on his own skin courtesy of rescuing Connor from the river and then warming him up in both the car and the bathtub. If his hands were aching after just a couple of brief contacts with the icy water, then he knew that Connor must've been in absolute agony as of the moment. Why Connor wasn't complaining was something Hank didn't dare ask about.

Quietly making his way back into the bathroom Hank rinsed off his hands in the warm water in the sink and did his best to let his hands relax under the heat to ensure that he didn't get frostbite or aggravate the slowly building arthritis in his knuckles into something truly painful. Glancing down at the pile of damp towels on the floor and Connor's river-soaked clothing in the bathtub helped sink in with how close Connor had been either to drowning or succumbing to the cold that night.

If the hypothermic deviant had been left alone to work, if he had been forced to partner up with Gavin during the investigation, then it was entirely possible that Connor could've perished in a painful and icy way that would've been torturous from start to finish.

"Man... Fuck winter. Fuck the other seasons too; I don't want anyone to feel excluded."

Turning off the water Hank dried off his hands with the last clean towel in the bathroom and then bundled up all the other towels and wet clothes to throw them in the washing machine. Taking the time to fish Connor's coin out of the jean's pocket Hank put the quarter aside on the dryer to be picked up by Connor once his clothes were clean. Hank then went on the hunt for a few other things to help the frozen deviant recover from the cold a little easier without accidentally smothering him or making him feel helpless in the process.

Rummaging through the hallway closet Hank located an old hot water bottle that he'd occasionally use on his aching back, and then promptly found a pair of thick gloves that were used for snowmobiling and long-haul searches through hazardous icy conditions. It wasn't much but Hank knew it might be just enough to help the deviant feel better quicker if he had the little additions to his methods of helping Connor warm up.

While the hot water bottle filled up in the sink in the bathroom Hank sifted through the large first aid kit tucked under the sink to pull out some clean rolls of thick gauze. Even though Connor's artificial skin couldn't get an infection from being frostbitten Hank wanted to bandage up the wounds and keep the painful damage concealed as much as possible for both of their senses of comfort.

Carrying his supplies back into the livingroom Hank placed everything down on the coffee table beside the couch and knelt on the floor next to the now peacefully sleeping deviant. Pushing back the blankets just enough to find Connor's hands Hank wrapped up the deviant's hands starting from his wrists and working his way upward until all five of his fingers up past his fingertips were entirely covered under the protective layer. The soft white bandages not only kept the exposed plastimetal cover but added another layer of warmth to Connor's freezing body.

Glancing at the old brick, stone and mortar fireplace to the right of the stand holding up the television Hank sighed and shook his head at the lack of firewood he had in the house, and of how he neglected to properly clean up the fireplace and chimney for the past three years. A roaring fire would be perfect on that icy cold night and could prove to be the very thing needed to help Connor recover quicker.

"Just one more annoying chore to put on the list, huh, Sumo?"

Sumo's tail thumped on the couch cushions as the large dog watched his master tending to the unconscious deviant and speaking his name. Ever loyal and sweet to anyone in need Sumo seemed to understand that Connor needed his help and that by cuddling up alongside Connor's legs that he was doing his part in aiding the deviant's recovery, too.

"Okay, that's better."

Being extremely careful and meticulous Hank managed to slip the thick black gloves over Connor's bandaged hands to ensure the bandages didn't move around, and then placed the deviant's hands back down on the couch without disturbing Connor's sleep. With the exposed plastimetal now taken care of Hank proceeded to place the filled hot water bottle against Connor's lower chest and upper abdomen, then return the layer of blankets over the deviant to help him retain as much heat as possible as he rested properly.

The way Connor never reacted to Hank assisting him or moving his hands around, the yellow L.E.D. never changing its beat or color, made Hank worry. Was Connor really so weak, tired and confused by the extreme cold that he didn't register someone touching his damaged skin?

Pressing his palm against Connor's cool cheek again Hank tried to get an idea of what the unconscious deviant's core temperature was hovering around, but he just couldn't gauge an accurate number for his liking. Moving his hand over Hank lightly combed his fingers through Connor's icy damp locks of hair to try to be of some comfort as his paternal instincts overrode his nature as a detective for the time being.

"You're going to be just fine, son. I swear it."

Seemingly aware of what was happening after hearing Hank's voice Connor took in a deep breath and let it out slowly through his nose as his ventilation program rebooted. Once he was breathing and able to regulate his own core temperature again the yellow L.E.D. cycled back into blue and indicated an improvement in Connor's overall condition.

"That's it. Just keep resting and I'll keep watch for the next few hours until we're both feeling better."

Making his way down the hallway and back into his bedroom Hank changed into his preferred night clothes, grabbed the only blanket left untouched off of his own bed and a large pillow, and then returned to the livingroom for the remainder of the night. Settling down in the recliner once more Hank wrapped the blanket around himself and kept his word as he stayed with Connor until the deviant had recovered enough to move around on his own again. It'd be a long and cold night, but at least Connor was safe, resting comfortably and didn't seem to be in pain.

Just as Hank was about to settle in and drift off for a few precious hours, his phone rang all the way in the bedroom and reminded the detective that he and Connor still had a case that they were responsible for closing. Swearing internally Hank silently trudged down the hallway to answer the call and get a confirmation from Chris that he and Gavin found the suspect, arrested him and would make sure that Vanessa's remains were properly laid to rest by the deviants out at New Jericho Tower.

"That's the best news that I've heard all evening, Chris. Thanks for the update."

Peering down the hallway Hank sighed and knew that he needed to get back to the livingroom and resume being near Connor if he was going to be able to get any sleep and stop worrying about the deviant in general. He was just as tired as Connor, and he'd need to get some rest right alongside the recovering deviant before he'd be good to anyone else once he was back on the clock.

"And let Fowler know that I got Connor out of the water and he's recovering on the couch. We'll both be back on shift in two days right on schedule, no problems."

Tossing the phone aside felt like Hank had just freed himself from some form of shackles. His responsibility to the precinct was officially done until his next shift and now he could focus entirely on Connor during his recovery from the severe cold. With his fingers combing through his shaggy, messy hair Hank trudged back down the hallway and peered down over the back of the couch to look at Connor's face again. It was the only part of Connor that wasn't completely obscured by blankets or Sumo's thick fur.

Lightly Hank put his palm down on Connor's forehead and made sure the deviant wasn't too hot or too cold as he slept. The deviant detective had finally stopped shivering and seemed to be sleeping without any discomfort whatsoever in spite of everything he had just gone through.

"All right, stay just like that and feel better in the morning, son. We both need some time to rest and recover after everything we went through tonight."

Dropping back into the recliner Hank wrapped up in his quilt, pressed his head against his pillow and let his heavy eyelids finally drop down to drift off to sleep. After such an exciting evening the senior detective was surprised that he even had the energy to wander back down the hallway to answer his phone, let alone remain alert enough to keep vigil over Connor throughout the entire night as the deviant continued to rest peacefully under his mound of quilts and with a loyal dog at his side.

It wasn't the first time that the senior detective had to spend the night watching over a sick kid, and as far as Hank knew it wouldn't be the last time either.

-next chapter-