Having had a full week to recover from their previous injuries Connor and Hank were already back to work handling deviant related cases. Walking the streets looking for a potential eyewitness to the beating death of a deviant with little luck smiling their way had left them feeling a little despondent. It seemed either no one had seen anything happening during the very brutal and very public assault, or simply no one wanted to help find the person, or persons, responsible for the death of the deviant. Not all humans were as opened minded or tolerant as Hank had become regarding deviants, nor were they as forthcoming about witnessing the unscrupulous behavior unfairly aimed at deviants in general. As a result, the two detectives had to search for evidence without any leads or witnesses.

Combing the area of the assault on foot was proving fruitless. The two detectives decided to split-up the responsibility of talking to store employees and residents along the block to cover more ground more efficiently. While Hank walked down one side of the street Connor walked down the opposite side. Slowly but surely, they checked inside each public building and spoke with at least two people inside said buildings before departing and reuniting on the street outside in an attempt to locate a witness.

"Every market we've checked 'conveniently' didn't have any cameras facing the street, and every person we talked to claimed they didn't see a damn thing." Hank groused as he and Connor continued their search for a witness along the sidewalk. They were running out of options when it came to tracking down a potential witness to the assault. "What they call 'convenient' I call 'bullshit'."

"I agree." Connor stated as he continued to cybernetically scan the area for clues. "This street is far too populated for the crime to have taken place unnoticed. There is at least one witness in the area, and we will find them."

"Maybe they need to remember that we're the good guys looking for the bad guys, and bad guys can hurt humans just as easily as they can hurt deviants."

"Perhaps it's for that very reason that no one is coming forward." Connor's blue L.E.D. cycled to yellow as he accessed police records for the names and addresses of known criminals living in the area. A few names of interest popped up and could potentially point the two detectives in the right direction at long last. "And it may give us the advantage we need to locate a witness."

Hank noticed the yellow L.E.D. and knew that Connor was searching for a lead. "Got something we can work with?"

"Possibly." The deviant detective confirmed as his L.E.D. transitioned back to blue in color. The determination to handle the case was admirable if not a little obsessive in Hank's eyes, but Connor didn't pay that any mind. "There are four known criminals with histories of violence against both humans and deviants living within a three-block radius of the crime."

"Anyone we know?"

"Two of the suspects are currently serving time for unrelated events; one for drug possession and the other for stalking. They have been imprisoned for the past six weeks and three months respectively."

"That narrows it down already. Who're the other two?"

"The third suspect is Amber Carson who lives in the apartment complex at the end of the block." Motioning to the complex just a few hundred yards away Connor relayed the details of her arrest record. "She had been arrested for attempting to steal, reset and sell female androids as prostitutes. When the captive deviants put up a fight and attempt to flee, she beats them to death and disposes of the bodies. Numerous victims had been found in the alleyway behind the apartment complex she resides in, but no murder charges were leveled against her because of the lack of deviant rights and laws at the time."

"Shit, sounds like she could be the person we're looking for." Crossing his arms over his chest Hank narrowed his blue eyes at the building in the distance as he contemplated confronting the disgusting woman. With the new rights and laws now active, they had every chance of finally busting the abhorrent woman and putting her behind bars. "But what about the other one?"

"The fourth suspect is Victor Ortiz. The older brother of the late Carlos Ortiz."

"Ortiz was the murdered human we investigated together when we first met. His android defended himself from a beating and ended up killing Ortiz with a knife in the process after he deviated." Hank rubbed at his bearded chin as he looked about the block curiously. "Wonder if he wants revenge for his brother's death?"

"The motivation is plausible." Connor pointed to a second rundown apartment complex across the street adjacent to the first complex to confirm the address. It seemed that the entire neighborhood was full of seedy, unreputable people. "We have probable cause to speak with him. He lives on the fourth floor."

"Then, let's go talk to him. We won't know if we'll find the right suspect until after we ask them about their strange habits when they think no one is watching."

As Hank and Connor crossed the street to enter the rundown apartment complex a car sped out of the alleyway beside that same complex seemingly in a panic. The car's tires squealed loudly as it turned sharply around the corner and began driving with a reckless speed down the street toward the two detectives who were in the middle of crossing from one side of the street to the other.

"Lieutenant?" Connor saw the car first and shouted at Hank to get his attention as he quickly preconstructed the possible outcomes of the car striking Hank, missing him or even attempting to stop. If he didn't act fast then Hank would've been struck and potentially fatally wounded. "Car!"

The senior detective turned his head to look at the speeding vehicle but didn't move. It was such an unexpected occurrence that Hank failed to respond at all and could only watch as the vehicle raced toward him like an arrow that had been fired at a bullseye.

"Move!"

Choosing the best outcome based on his preconstructions, Connor reacted to the rapidly approaching vehicle with extraordinary reflexes and pushed Hank out of the street and out of harm's way just as the car crashed into Connor's back. The impact from the car had knocked the wind out of Connor's vents and took the strength out of his legs within a matter of milliseconds.

As Hank landed hard on his own back on the sidewalk, Connor absorbed the blunt force of the car's hood directly in his spine just below his shoulders and rolled up and over the expanse of the windshield of the speeding car. The impact was so intense and fast that Connor rolled up over the hood, over the now cracked windshield and rolled off the side of the still speeding car, crashing back down onto the unforgiving street onto his left side.

"Shit! Connor!?"

Regaining his senses Hank contacted dispatch with the radio in his coat pocket to report the hit and run. The man also managed to give dispatch the first four digits of the car's license plate. Requesting emergency technicians to the scene the senior detective took charge of tending to Connor until help arrived. Kneeling down in the street next to the bloodied deviant, Hank put his hand on Connor's shoulder as he leaned down to look at Connor's L.E.D. flashing red in his right temple.

"Connor! Connor?" Hank stared at sight of his partner laying in the street before him after being struck by the speeding car. Everything had happened so quickly, and Hank could barely process everything he had gone through. "Can you hear me? How bad is it? I need you to talk to me, son. Tell me what's going on with you."

"I..." After a pause Connor's voice reverberated uncomfortably with an electronic echo as his system ran a self-diagnostic that focused a majority of his power elsewhere. Dozens of red error warnings swarmed his visual processors, but through the glaring text Connor was able to focus on Hank's face as the senior detective hovered protectively over him. "I c-can't move. My self-healing... program is not... f-functioning."

"Shit." It was then Hank noticed a deep horizontal line of dark blue Thirium staining the back of Connor's gray blazer under his shoulders. The hood of the car had left a painful laceration at the site of the impact against Connor's middle back while the glass from the broken windshield had cut through his artificial skin after rolling up and over the fractured surface. "I know I shouldn't move you right now, but I can leave you laying in the street. I have to get you to the sidewalk."

"I... I understand."

"Okay, hold on, I'll be as careful as I can."

Very slowly Hank put his hand under Connor's head and proceeded to gently roll Connor from his side and onto his back. Mindful of the laceration in Connor's back Hank wrapped one arm around Connor's chest and put his other arm beneath his legs to pick him up into his arms to carry out of the street and over to the sidewalk out of potential oncoming traffic.

As he was moved Connor's soulful brown eyes widened for a moment with genuine fear as he realized that something was seriously wrong. "H-Hank?"

"I'm sorry, I'm trying not to hurt you." Moving slowly Hank knelt down on the sidewalk and laid Connor down on the firm surface while letting the deviant's shoulders lean against his knees. Dark blue blood soaked into the denim fabric of Hank's jeans as a result, but he didn't budge and just supported Connor up from the sidewalk in what he hoped what would be a comfortable position. "I gotcha', help's on the way, kid."

"Hank..." Connor's voice sounded completely pitiful as he fought to articulate his wavering voice. Sounding more human than usual as he endured fear and pain Connor told the senior detective something absolutely dreadful. "...I c-can't feel my legs. O-Or my arms. I'm losing strength and c-can't feel anything below my neck."

"...It'll be okay." Hank swallowed nervously at that admission as his hand wrapped around Connor's forehead in a comforting gesture. On autopilot his thumb began to absentmindedly fuss with the deviant's hair while they waited together for the emergency technicians to finally arrive. "You're going to be okay. Just try to relax."

The requested android ambulance arrived at the scene and pulled up alongside the two detectives sitting on the sidewalk waiting for help. Hank kept his hand on Connor's forehead and did his best to ignore Connor's rapid breathing and his racing heart that presented a palpable pulse through Connor's bleeding back against his legs. The shuddering motion was all that Connor could muster as he remained numb from the neck down.

"We'll take care of him, sir." One of the technicians, an expressionless deviant stated as he examined Connor's condition with a silent cybernetic scan. The deviant's left breast pocket had a name tag with 'Cliff' written over it in perfect CyberLife sans right in the center of the tag. "He has suffered structural damage to his spinal support column, but we can treat it at the nearest facility."

It was painfully tense as Hank watched Cliff secure a neck brace around Connor's neck to keep him physically stable while the second technician, another deviant with her name tag reading 'Miranda', pressed a white bandage to Connor's back to stop the bleeding. Connor was scared, it showed in his dark brown eyes, even though he didn't say anything more about being unable to move or feel his legs or arms. Even so Hank could feel his fear without Connor needing to say a word about it.

"Hang on, son." Hank encouraged as the two technicians carefully lifted Connor up from the sidewalk and placed him down on a gurney. Together the two deviants worked in perfect tandem motions to secure the safety straps over Connor's chest, abdomen and legs to keep in him place before rolling him into the back of the dark blue ambulance. "I'll meet you at the facility, okay?"

"...O-Okay, Hank." Connor was forcing the fear from his voice as he spoke to the senior detective hovering over him as he was placed in the back of the ambulance to be transported to the facility. "I'll see you soon."

"Hang in there, kid! I'll be right behind the ambulance the whole time."

Still feeling entirely numb Connor continued to breathe rapidly in pain and fear as he was loaded into the ambulance and closed his eyes as the doors were slammed shut. Restraining his emotions without showing any form of faltering or emotional distress, Connor remained quiet during transport and could only wait in isolation before receiving treatment for his injuries as he watched Hank's face disappear from the back windows of the closed ambulance doors.

Swearing to himself as the ambulance drove away Hank returned to his parked car far down the street opposite from where Connor had been struck, and proceeded to follow after the ambulance to reach the facility where Connor was going to be treated. His hands were shaking from adrenaline a fear as he opened the driver's side door and fumbled with his keys in his pocket.

"Fuckin' hell."

The idea of needing to meet up with Connor at a facility again was distressing. As much as Hank hated hospitals, he was beginning to hate facilities just as much thanks to Connor's nasty habit of getting banged up on the job. Every time he had been to hospital or a facility in the past three or so years, it had always been for something horrible.

"That poor kid must have a magnet for trouble in his ass or something. Maybe he'll finally catch a damn break now that deviants have their rights instated."

The already tense moment of waiting for Connor's condition to be assessed by the technicians in the emergency facility was made all the more intense when Hank finally spoke to the lead technician treating Connor at the Gamma Android Emergency Care Facility. The technician, Dr. Laura Wells, had given Connor's systems a complete examination and had located the source of the damage. Through various tests and examinations, she had also identified the severity of said damage to the deviant's spinal support column as a result of being struck by the speeding car. The damage was critical and needed a lot of time to be repaired and to recalibrate after Connor's self-healing program had the chance to fully engage.

Securing Connor's spine in place with a long but flexible strip of white plastimetal that ran from the base of his neck down to his waist, Dr. Wells made sure the strip kept Connor's spinal support column perfectly aligned as he healed. The flexibility was enough to let Connor sit upright and stretch out, but it wouldn't let him turn to the left or the right by rotating his waist or shoulders until his support column had been fully healed, stabilized and recalibrated.

Dr. Wells warmly greeted Hank as she stepped out of the treatment room to speak with Hank more informatively. Hank rose to his feet to face the woman readily, though warily. Dr. Wells was a kind woman in her forties with raven black hair, chocolate brown eyes and wore thick framed glasses. Short in height but big in skill Dr. Wells told Hank the truth about Connor's condition.

"Hello." The technician caught Hank's attention easily with just one word as she entered the waiting room. "I'm Dr. Laura Wells, I've been overseeing Connor's treatment."

"Yeah, hi. I'm Lieutenant Hank Anderson." Hank respectfully shook Dr. Wells's hand before he asked about Connor. "How is he?"

"The damage is serious, but it can be repaired." The skilled technician explained coolly and confidently. "The impact crushed two of his interior support discs, the equivalent to a human's spinal vertebrae. The wires inside the discs had been severed upon impact, cutting off his system's ability to send electrical impulses to his body below the damage. This is also limiting the amount of Thirium reaching his biocomponents below the damaged discs."

"Shit, he broke his spine." The horrible truth made Hank's blue eyes narrow with anger. "That dirty motherfucker actually broke Connor's spine!"

"Yes." Dr. Wells confirmed with a grim nod as she continued her explanation. "The paralysis from the damage is the direct result of the crushed discs."

"Is that why his healing program wasn't working?"

"Yes. Having his internal biocomponents deprived of Thirium caused his system to fall into emergency low power mode that only repressed his ability to heal further."

"Shit. Fuckin' hell..."

"As I said, the damage can be repaired." Dr. Wells reiterated calmly to the worried senior detective. "It'll take an hour to realign the damaged discs and replace the damaged wires, but once Connor's Thirium supply has been restored his self-healing program will initiate and he'll be functioning one-hundred percent before the end of the week. Fortunately, Connor's prototyping gave him uniquely strong discs running along his support column, which means we won't have to scramble to find a replacement part compatible with his design."

"But... he'll still be down for a week? It'll take that long?"

"Unfortunately, yes. But he will heal, I can't stress that enough." Emphasizing her words Dr. Wells reaffirmed everything with a confident tone to try and help Hank stop worrying so much about Connor's overall future health. "Just be patient."

"Don't worry about me, worry about him." Hank shook his head sadly as he thought about how Connor's going to be completely defenseless for nearly a full week. The deviant didn't take well to being sidelined or unable to work. "I don't think he'll be able to handle such a long recovery period."

"I won't lie to you about the severity of this situation, Lieutenant." Sympathetic to the deviant's plight Dr. Wells made sure Hank knew that she was hearing him and understood what he was talking about. "It'll be bad, but it could've been a lot worse. He will walk again as long as he takes the time he needs to properly recover."

"Fuck..." Swearing to himself again Hank dragged his hand over his face with worry and scratched his beard running along his chin. "What's going to happen now?"

"I'm going to go through with the repair procedure, barely an hour long, and afterward he's going to heal and slowly regain his sense of feeling as he heals. It won't be all at once, it'll be gradual and steady."

"I really don't think he's going to like that." Dropping his hand from his chin Hank put both of his hands to his hips and sighed. "He's pretty stubborn and at times impatient. Especially with his own body not cooperating with what he wants to happen."

"The hardest part will be the waiting, it always is. But given enough time he will make a full recovery." Giving Hank a reassuring smile Dr. Wells set out to resume her examination of Connor laying on the table in the next room. The facility was small but well equipped and Dr. Wells preferred having small distances between her patients and their loved ones. "You can come and see him before the repairs if you'd like. I'm just going to give him one last examination before taking him into the repair bay."

"Yeah, thanks. I'll do that."

Joining Dr. Wells inside the treatment room Hank paused in the doorway at the sight of the deviant resting in the bed. Having seen the worry in Connor's eyes at the scene of the incident and watching Dr. Wells hovering over Connor with various sensors and scanners monitoring Connor's vitals made the fate of the deviant's condition seem so much more ominous. However, it was watching Connor laying helplessly on his chest, unable to move let alone defend himself, that really hurt the senior detective's heart.

Dr. Wells was checking Connor's vitals and speaking to him directly. As she spoke Connor's L.E.D. flashed between red and yellow as he learned of his condition and accepted the technician's prognosis. A single frustrated tear rolled from Connor's eye onto the surface of the table beneath his head as he waited to learn the full extent of his condition. It was a wait that hurt more than the damage to his spinal support column ever could.

"Jeez, kid. Don't do that, it looks like you're giving up." Hank noticed the rogue tear and tried to push it out of his mind. "You'll be okay."

Letting out a defeated sigh, Connor closed his eyes and resigned himself to Dr. Wells's care. "That has yet to be seen, Lieutenant."

Sure enough the procedure to repair Connor's spine was finished within an hour and the deviant appeared completely normal externally. Hank stood beside the recovery bed where Connor was still in a form of stasis mode and laying on his chest to keep his recently repaired incision along his back exposed until the flexible strip could be reapplied to keep his spinal support column stable. A perfect rectangle of Connor's artificial skin had been retracted from his back to give Dr. Wells access to the white plastimetal frame beneath that housed the support discs within. The frame itself appeared to be flawless post repair procedure. The pure white form that constructed Connor's being seemed like an impossible construction given how human Connor look aesthetically, and how imperfect humans were only emphasized the foreign material to Hank's curious blue eyes.

Keeping his voice low Hank spoke to Connor as if trying to avoid waking him up while trying to give the deviant a reassuring voice to listen to. Needing to talk to Connor in a paternal manner for his own comfort, Hank watched the yellow L.E.D. cycling in Connor's right temple with a nearly hypnotic gaze.

"You're not even going to have a scar, Connor. Everything went perfectly."

Hank stated as he watched Dr. Wells walk into the recovery room and manually replace the artificial skin over the plastimetal by pressing her fingertips against Connor's yellow colored L.E.D. gently. By pressing her opposite hand down on Connor's back, she caused humanoid artificial skin to cover the exposed frame making the deviant look whole once more and fully healed.

"There..." Dr. Wells remarked as she reapplied the plastimetal strip to Connor's repaired spinal support column. Magnets kept the strip in place and held tight to ensure Connor's spine remained perfectly straight while it healed and recalibrated. "And with that, his repairs have been completed."

"When can I take him home?"

"Once he's awake I'll get a wheelchair for him, and you can take him home to rest. His Thirium levels are a little low, it's nothing critical, but it'd be best for his recovery for him to replenish what he's lost." Dr. Wells gave Hank a kind glance as she made notes in Connor's electronic chart. "Think you can get him to cooperate?"

Hank laughed a little at the offer as he looked at his partner laying on the bed beside him. "I can try."

Hearing Hank's voice speaking right beside him, Connor's soulful brown eyes slowly opened as his systems fully came online and the manually activated stasis mode deactivated. Glancing upward he noticed his partner was standing alongside the table and called his name in a raspy word.

"...Hank?"

"Right here." Responding softly Hank leaned down so Connor could see his face directly. "You're going to be just fine. It's over."

"I... I still can't feel anything." Trying to move around Connor's yellow L.E.D. cycled to red for a moment in panic. "My legs... My arms.,, It's like my limbs aren't even attached to my body."

"They are, kid. You will feel everything as soon as your healing program kicks in." Hank confidently nodded at Dr. Wells to confirm everything he had just said as she departed the recovery room to check on her other patients. "Just give it some time and you'll be back to normal."

Connor wanted to protest but he didn't know what to say. What could he say? The only thing preventing him from moving now was time itself.

"...Okay. I'll wait."

"Good." Gingerly Hank put his hand to Connor's shoulder and gave him a small shake. "It won't be that bad, I'll help ya' out until you heal."

"Can we... go back to the house? I just want to go home."

"Sure, kid. Fowler already knows you're hurt so we have the day off." Right on cue Dr. Wells returned to the room with a wheelchair as she had promised. In less than an hour they'd be able to return home and relax in the livingroom. "Just rest for a while longer, then we'll head for home."

Using the wheelchair provided by the facility, Dr. Wells worked with Hank to put Connor inside the chair and push him out of the facility through the front doors. Ever patient, the duo of caregivers placed Connor down on the completely tilted backward front passenger seat of the Oldsmobile to transport him back to the house. Hank himself had driven home at such a ludicrously slow and gentle pace that Connor thought he'd never get out of the car. Laying on his back with his arms neatly folded over his chest, his arms in that particular position only because that's how Hank had left him after placing him down in the seat, Connor stared at the dark upholstery that lined the roof of the car in total silence.

The gray CyberLife blazer that the deviant insisted on wearing despite his deviancy had been draped over him like a blanket, and his black tie was tucked into the pocket for safekeeping. Wearing only his white dress shirt and jeans made Connor feel less professional than he would've liked, but there was no reason for him to wear his uniform while benched with an injury and on his way back to Hank's house to rest.

"We're home." Hank stated firmly as he parked the car in the driveway beside the house and turned off the engine. Exiting the vehicle quickly he pulled open the passenger side door and carefully slipped his arm under Connor's shoulders, below the point of damage that had only recently been repaired, and lifted Connor upright in the car's front seat. "Ready?"

"Do I have a choice?" Connor unexpectedly snipped as Hank lifted him up into a sitting position, his body leaning heavily against Hank's shoulder against his own will due to his lingering paralysis. "It doesn't feel like I have a choice at all."

"At the moment? Nope." Hank confirmed sharply as he ignored the comment and put his other arm under Connor's knees to lift him up and out of the car to carry inside the house. "Here we go."

Using his foot to kick the car door closed behind himself, Hank carried his still healing partner inside the house through the front door and into the livingroom to rest on the couch. Stepping around Sumo, who had excitedly rushed to the front door, the dog simply followed Hank as he placed Connor down on the couch to relax and heal.

Connor sighed with another heavy defeat as he stared into the nothingness above him while Hank willingly took care of him during his recovery. Hearing Sumo whimper sadly as the massive dog licked at his unfeeling arm draped over his chest made the deviant feel even worse about his current predicament.

"It'll be okay." With a casual motion Hank reached down to undo the buttons on Connor's white dress shirt and slipped it, albeit awkwardly, from the deviant's numbed arms. "By tomorrow morning you should have the feeling back in your arms and chest."

Not saying a word Connor just closed his heavy eyes while Hank took away his shirt to be mended and cleaned later on after it had been torn in the accident. Listening to the sound of Hank's footsteps 'creaking' around the house Connor knew where the senior detective was at all times. Connor knew that Hank had taken his shirt to the laundry room through the kitchen, had walked down the hallway, gone into his own bedroom for a moment, and was now heading back down the hallway to the livingroom.

"Here." Hank brought Connor a clean black t-shirt and slipped it over the deviant's head before passing Connor's arms through the short sleeves. Putting his hand under Connor's shoulders Hank guided the wounded deviant forward and then back until Connor was lying flat across the couch on his back with his head resting on a small blue pillow propped up against the armrest of the couch. "This should keep you more comfortable while ya' heal."

Still numb Connor opened his eyes slightly and watched as Hank went about unlacing his shoes and slipped them from his feet. "You don't have to do that."

"Yeah, well, I don't want dirt all over the couch." The senior detective, and father, quickly lied as he took the removed shoes to the front door and set them down neatly. He slipped off his own coat and pulled a bottle of fresh Thirium from the coat's right pocket before hanging the garment up on the hook by the door and returning to the couch. "So, tough shit. Besides, when I'm laid-up I hate wearing my work clothes and like to wear more casual stuff."

Closing his eyes again Connor slipped into rest mode to allow his self-healing program as much time and power as it needed to repair the damage to his spinal support column. All he could do in that moment was lay around, heal and try to not let his fears for his future cloud his judgement.

"Hey, hey!" Walking back over to the couch Hank complained as he watched Connor's still yellow L.E.D. pulsing slower as the deviant tried to slip into a deep sleep to avoid needing to speak or acknowledge his temporary paralysis. "You need to drink this Thirium stuff first. Then you can sleep all you like."

Bitterly Connor didn't respond to Hank's words. The deviant remained idle as he fell into a much needed rest mode within seconds and tuned out the waking world around him.

"Stubborn android."

Hank lamented as he placed the Thirium bottle down on the coffee table beside the couch. Sumo was sitting beside the couch looking confused by Connor's lack of attention when Hank decided it'd be best to leave Connor alone for a while.

"Come on, Sumo. Let's go for a walk."

Despite being nearly in rest mode Connor was still aware of what was happening around him thanks to his auditory senses remaining active. The deviant listened to Hank retrieving his coat from the hook and slipping it back on over his arms and shoulders, then the clacking of Sumo's nails as the large dog plodded over to the front door, shortly followed by the metallic 'click' of the leash clasping onto Sumo's collar.

"Connor needs some time alone right now, and we're going to respect that."

As the front door opened and shut the house became quiet and Connor realized that he was alone and unable to do anything for himself. He truly felt helpless as he laid over the couch with only his own miserable thoughts to keep him company.

Opening his eyes Connor glanced at the bottle of Thirium on the coffee table beside him and made an effort to grab the crucial substance. His fingers barely twitched, let alone his arm failing to lift high enough in the air to make such a motion outward for the Thirium. Struggling and trying again, Connor just watched as his body continued to fail to respond and remained motionless where he sat.

Breathing through his clenched teeth Connor fought to withhold his frustrated tears as they welled up in his pained brown eyes.

"...Damn it. I hate feeling completely useless."

After walking Sumo around the quiet and mostly empty block for the sixth time to try to give the stubborn deviant some space and let him be, Hank decided to go back home to check in on Connor. It wasn't that Hank believed that Connor was still in any danger after being injured, it was that he felt guilty for Connor being injured at all. If Connor hadn't pushed him out of the way of the speeding car then Hank would've been the one injured and possibly paralyzed, not Connor. Even though it wasn't either detectives' fault that the incident occurred Hank couldn't help but feel guilty. He froze in the middle of the street and would've been hit if it hadn't been for Connor pushing him out of the way.

As he stepped up the front walk toward the house Hank's phone began to ring, and for the first time in his life he was happy to answer the call as he fished the device out of his pocket like it was a lifeline. It gave him another few precious minutes away from Connor to ensure that the deviant had plenty of time to cool down.

"Yeah?" Pressing the phone to his ear Hank answered the call and tightened his grip on Sumo's leash. "This is Anderson."

'Hey, Lieutenant. It's Chris." The voice introduced himself unnecessarily thanks the caller I.D. on the phone's screen. 'We caught the guy who hit Connor. It was Ortiz. He's going to prison for a long time for the death of that deviant you guys were investigating, for assaulting a police officer, assault with battery and attempted murder of a police officer. Just thought you'd like to know the good news.'

"Yeah, thanks for the update, Chris." Breathing a sigh of relief Hank felt some weight lift from his shoulders at last. "I'll let Connor know, too. Bye."

'Right, see ya' around, Lieutenant. And let Connor know we're all wishing him a speedy recovery!'

"Yeah... I'll do that."

Ending the call Hank slipped the phone back into his jean pocket and pushed open the front door before he unclipped the leash from Sumo's collar. As he hung up his coat and the leash by the front door again Hank called to Connor assuming that the deviant was awake again.

"They caught Ortiz. He was our man after all."

As Hank turned away from the door to look at the couch, he noticed that Sumo was very interested in something on the floor between the couch and the coffee table. The dog was hovering over that something curiously with a small whimper passing his lips. Upon closer inspection Hank saw that the something was in fact a someone; Connor.

"What the hell? Connor!"

The deviant was laying on his chest on the floor with his hand flexing very weakly as if trying to push himself back up. His fingers barely had the strength to contract which made what little movement Connor had regained seem absolutely pitiful by comparison.

"Shit, I'm sorry! I shouldn't have left you alone." Hank apologized profusely as he rushed over to where Connor was laying and pushed Sumo back to have more space to check over the deviant. "I gotcha'."

"...I'm fine." Connor muttered as Hank threw his limp arm up around his shoulders and Hank wrapped both of his arms around Connor's chest to support his dead weight in a firm grip. "I said that I'm fine!"

"No, you're not. You fell." The senior detective stated unnecessarily as he hefted the deviant up from the floor and back on to the couch to rest. Lifting Connor's legs up onto the soft cushions Hank looked down at his partner with a heavy heart. "I should've stayed here with you to take care of you."

Connor looked down at his hand as he again weakly flexed his fingers, the digits only partially bending in response despite all of his best attempts to move his hand.

Sumo whimpered slightly and rested his chin on the couch beside Connor as he could sense that the deviant was upset.

"Think you can drink that Thirium?" Needing to find s distraction Hank motioned to the bottle of blue blood still sitting on the table beside the couch. "You need it."

"I can't move my hands, Hank." Connor's voice became sharp and angry as his irritated eyes shot up to look at Hank's face. "So, NO. I can't."

"Easy! Fuck..." The senior detective didn't appreciate the attitude that the injured deviant was throwing his way. "It was just a question. You don't have to bite my head off."

Annoyed Connor turned his head so that he was facing away from Hank and toward the back of the couch's cushions as he closed his eyes again and muttered bitterly under his breath. "...It was a dumb question."

"You need to be patient. Spinal injuries don't just heal overnight for humans OR androids, no matter how advanced they are."

Ignoring Hank's words Connor focused on his limp hands, trying and failing, to close his fingers into angered fists.

Sighing with his own frustration Hank left the livingroom and patted the side of his leg to coax Sumo into following him. Quietly Hank went about feeding the dog in the kitchen while also making himself a light dinner.

Neither detective spoke to one another for the remainder of the evening as Connor steeped in his own frustration and Hank patiently waited for the deviant to calm down and stop trying to push himself so hard. As night fell Hank went to bed without saying a word to Connor, and Sumo followed Hank into the bedroom as the dog picked up on Connor's currently hostile mood and didn't approve of it either. It was almost three in the morning when Hank was awoken by a loud 'crash' in the livingroom that immediately put him on his guard.

Sumo responded to the intrusive noise by barking once before whimpering as he sat up on the foot of the bed as Hank sat upright behind him.

"What now?"

Tired and annoyed Hank grumbled as he reached into the drawer of his nightstand beside his bed and grabbed his gun. Exiting the bedroom with Sumo beside his leg Hank entered the livingroom and turned on the overhead light. Once more Connor was laying between the couch and coffee table with his hand resting atop the table with his fingers struggling to grip the Thirium bottle laying on its side under his weakened palm.

"What the fuck, Connor?"

Sumo trotted around the couch and laid down beside Connor's legs as he whimpered again sympathetically.

With an annoyed sigh Hank sat his gun down on the bookshelf against the wall in the livingroom and walked around to the front of the couch to look down at the deviant on the floor. "I might as well put the damn pillow on the floor and leave you there."

"Shut up." Connor grumbled as he tried to pull the bottle off the table and onto the floor, but he still didn't have the strength to do so. "Go away!"

"All right, I know you're pissed off with your body right now because you feel like it's failing you, but-"

"I'm NOT pissed with my body..." Without any hesitation Connor snarled as he turned his head to look up at Hank. "I'm pissed at YOU."

"Me?" The response made the senior detective actually take a step back. "What the fuck did I do?"

"I became injured because YOU were in the way. If you would have just listened to me and moved out of the way I wouldn't have been hit. I wouldn't be paralyzed."

"Connor, I-"

"Just leave me alone!" Angry and feeling useless Connor snapped again as he turned his head away and struggled to get the Thirium bottle down onto the floor beside him. "Just go! Maybe you should practice what you preach from when we first met and fuck off!"

Stunned by the deviant's reaction and uncharacteristically cruel behavior, Hank just stood in place watching Connor fighting to simply move his hand without saying another word. It was so unfair to see Connor so broken and weak. The deviant had in fact been injured protecting Hank and there was nothing Hank could do to help him heal quicker. It was entirely unfair.

Even though he wasn't a technician there was something that Hank could do to help Connor, whether the deviant agreed to it or not.

Kneeling down on the floor Hank slipped his hand under Connor's chest and pushed the deviant up from the floor until he was sitting with his back against the couch.

"Get away!" Connor demanded as his L.E.D. flashed from yellow to red with misdirected anger. If he could move his arms he would've shoved Hank back to get away from him. "I don't need your help!"

"Yeah, son, you do." Hank insisted again in a much stricter voice as he wrapped his arm around Connor's chest to pick him up from the floor and place him on the couch again. "You do right now anyway."

"I'm not your son." Wanting to push Hank away Connor hissed the comment venomously, knowing that the last remark would hurt the senior detective on a personal level. "So leave me alone."

Hank froze for a moment before he resumed sitting Connor down on the couch with a gentle motion. He put his hand beneath Connor's chin and gently tilted the angry deviant's face to make Connor look him in the eyes even as Connor intentionally darted his eyes to the side to look away.

"Yes, you are. You are my son." Picking up the Thirium bottle from the floor Hank opened the top and sat next to Connor who was leaning back heavily against the cushions thanks to his heavy deadweight. "Drink this." Hank ordered as he pressed the opening to the bottle to Connor's lips. "Come on, you need it."

Out of stubbornness or perhaps spite Connor refused and continued to look away from Hank again.

"Connor, if you think I won't sit on your fucking chest and force this shit down your throat then you're making a big mistake. Do not test me!"

Trying to remain steadfast and obstreperous Connor refused to cooperate.

"Come on! You're not a quitter, kid." Keeping his hands in place Hank challenged the deviant's resolve knowing that Connor was too tired to put up such a strong fight for too long. "So why in the fuck are you giving up so quickly?"

Tears of frustration filled Connor's eyes again as he slowly reestablished eye contact with Hank as his emotional resolve began to break.

"You can fight and insult me all you like, but I'm not going to let you hurt yourself."

With his chest heaving Connor couldn't contain his negative emotions inside any longer. He needed to let them out before they exploded at an unfortunate time or imploded with a self-destructive outburst.

"I-I'm... I'm sorry, Hank." Connor's L.E.D. cycled from red to yellow as the regret over saying such a cruel thing began to ache at his own heart. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that."

"It's okay." Hank's tone immediately softened as he empathized with Connor's frustration. "You're mad, I get it."

Seemingly as a subconscious reaction Connor's right hand flexed into a very weak fist as his arm slowly, and barely lifted up toward the bottle still in Hank's grip. As much as Connor tried to grab onto the bottle under his own strength his hand just refused to cooperate with the deviant and fell limply to his side again.

A tear finally escaped and ran down Connor's cheek as he sighed with repulse at his own failure. "...I can't."

"Okay, here." Patiently and gingerly Hank picked up Connor's hand and placed it around the bottle. Using his own hand Hank closed Connor's fingers around the bottle and tipped the opening back toward his lips. "Go for it."

Giving Hank a subtle appreciative nod Connor slowly tilted the bottle back until it pressed against his lips. The Thirium began to pour over his lips and his mouth as he drank it slowly. Hank kept his own hand beneath Connor's head to make sure the deviant didn't accidentally choke on the liquid as it poured down his throat at a steady pace.

As the bottle finally drained of its contents Hank took it from Connor's hand and tossed the bottle casually onto the table.

"There." Acting as if they just went through a nightly routine Hank lowered his hands to rest over his lap. "Easy."

Connor sighed as he looked down at his own hands clenched into pathetic fists at his sides. "I'm sorry, Hank. I'm so sorry."

"I already said it's okay."

"No, it's not... What I said was vicious and unnecessary." Guilt for his comments made Connor cry even harder. "I just said it because I wanted to hurt you. And you don't deserve it. I don't know why I'd willingly do that to my friend."

"Lashing out is part of being human. We all do it from time to time, especially when we're hurt."

"But you didn't deserve that!" Another tear rolled down Connor's face as he continued to speak. "I just... I hate being useless."

"You're NOT useless!" Hank nearly shouted as he looked Connor right in the eyes and made sure Connor knew he was sincere. "You're HURT. You need to heal. But you are far from useless, and you never will be, all right?"

Connor only nodded as he took Hank's words to heart and took a deep breath to calm himself down a little as his mind continued to race as quickly as his pained heart was beating. "...All right."

"All right." Lightly Hank patted Connor's shoulder twice as he rose from the couch and pushed Connor back down gently until he was laying across the length of the furniture on his back again. "It's okay, I know you didn't mean anything you said. But if it helps to hear me say it, I will. I forgive you."

"Hank?" Connor's voice suddenly sounded pleading as the senior detective stepped back from the couch to give him space. "W-Wait."

"Yeah?" Pausing mid step Hank looked down at Connor laying on the couch as a paternal instinct to protect the deviant kicked in. "What's up?"

"I... I don't want to be alone. Will you stay out here with me? At least for a little while."

A faint smirk appeared on Hank's otherwise stoic face at the almost childlike request. Hearing Connor feeling so unsure and scared was so innocent that Hank almost forgot that he wasn't looking at a scared rookie officer, he was looking at an emotionally growing deviant.

"All right, fine. I'll stay out here with you." Turning off the overhad light and sitting down in the recliner adjacent to the worn-out couch, Hank sighed and closed his fatigued eyes as he tried to salvage what was left of the night and get some sleep. "Just promise me you'll stop throwing yourself on the floor."

"Yeah... I promise."

"Good." Cracking his eyes open Hank watched as Connor laid motionless on the couch with his L.E.D. cycling in yellow in his right temple. "Need a blanket?"

"No. I'm okay here."

"Okay. Now rest some rest and I'll see ya' in the morning. You'll be feeling much better by then."

As the early morning hours gave way to noon Hank was awoken from his unexpectedly deep sleep by the sound of Sumo's nails pattering feverishly over the hardwood floor in the livingroom, then the linoleum in the kitchen, and then back to the hardwood floor in the livingroom. The sound was recurring as Sumo made his trek between the two rooms over and over again at an excited pace. Opening his now less tired eyes Hank watched the Saint Bernard wagging his tail as he brought his drool covered green rubber fetch ball back over to Connor, who easily picked up the fetched toy with a strong fist and happily tossed the ball back into the kitchen to resume the game.

The sight of the deviant sitting upright in the middle of the couch and able to move his right arm just as easily as he had done so countless times before made Hank's blue eyes light up. It was a great sign as it meant Connor really was beginning to heal.

"Feeling better?" Hank asked as he leaned forward in the recliner and rubbed the lingering sleep from his eyes. As he stretched out his shoulders Hank yawned once and then ran his hand over his messy, shaggy gray locks. "You definitely look better."

"My hands and my arms..." Connor admitted with a relieved smile on his face as he turned to face Hank. "I can move them."

"I've noticed. Turns out the doc' was right, you just need to be patient."

Sumo had retrieved the ball and dropped the drool covered object on the couch next to Connor's right hand again and waited for another round.

"Good boy!" Connor gave the green ball another good toss as he slowly and awkwardly managed to lift his right leg up to prop it up on the coffee table before himself in a more relaxed position. "My self-healing program is working exceptionally well. I estimate that I will be able to walk again by tomorrow afternoon."

"The Thirium helped, didn't it?"

"Yes." Confirming the question with a faint grin on his face Connor watched as Sumo again returned the ball to him. Once more Connor tossed the ball into the kitchen with great ease to watch the Saint Bernard plod after it. "I'm sorry that I was so stubborn yesterday. If I had allowed you to help me earlier, then I would've begun recovering at a quicker pace."

"Live and learn, kid." Hank dismissed the comment with a casual wave of his hand as he settled back against the recliner to remain comfortable where he sat. Having developed a thick skin made it easy for Hank to let arguments and fights with his friends go without further confrontation. "It's all part of the human experience. As a deviant, you're going to have to get used to that kind of bullshit."

"You're right." Accepting the retrieved ball yet again Connor gave it another toss and watched it bounce under the kitchen table with Sumo right behind it. "Tomorrow afternoon I will learn how to walk again, even if the concept of relearning to walk does seem like 'bullshit' because of my advanced programming."

"And if you need my help, I'll be there for you."

"...Thank you." Connor tossed the retrieved fetch ball for Sumo once more as the dog dropped it on the couch beside his hand. It seemed Connor's recovery was putting everyone in a better mood. "You're a good friend."

"Yeah? You're not so bad yourself." The Lieutenant quipped as he watched Sumo eagerly waiting for the next round of fetch to begin. "And you're the most stubborn partner I've ever had."

As Connor felt his strength returning to his arm, he gave Hank a curiously glance and knew his L.E.D. flashing to yellow for a beat gave away the sincerity of his confusion. "Is that a good or bad thing?"

"I haven't decided yet." Tilting his head at the question Hank truly began to wonder about that answer for himself. "I guess we'll see over time, son."

-next chapter-