An emergency call to a potential domestic dispute had led to a violent confrontation with the police. A spoiled, entitled human in his late fifties had become wildly enraged when he learned that his late mother had put her android caretaker and only friend in her will, and had given the android a substantial share of the family fortune while cutting her son's share significantly. Out of sheer rage and jealousy the temperamental and selfish man had thrown a Molotov cocktail through the front window of the family estate in an attempt to frame the android for arson, claiming that the android had become violent and malfunctioned after deviating. Unfortunately for the petty man, the family estate also had security cameras all around the property that easily identified the man as the true criminal while exonerating the android in the process.

Connor and Hank had been summoned to the scene of the crime as an android had been involved, but what should've been a simple arrest went downhill fast for the two detectives when the man's jealousy continued to manifest itself through violent impulses. The incredible emotional outbursts and genuine tantrums from a grown-man were sickening and disappointing to witness.

"We have the security footage proving you burned down the house, you fuckin' moron!" Hank shouted as the man paced about the front gate of the smoldering house like a caged lion while the fire department doused the burning mansion behind him. The man was shorter than average, overweight, had a sickly pale complexion made all the more repugnant by a cheap and unconvincing fake tan, a bald head covered by a thin, gray comb-over, narrow gray eyes and a tiny pointy nose that remind Hank of an actual weasel. "Why'd you do it?"

"It wasn't me!" The man denied in a pitiful whine as the fire began to die down to burning embers against a black cloud of smoke. "It was the android! It deviated and tried to kill me!"

Without missing a beat Connor held up the palm of his left hand to display a holographic image that had been taken from the security footage that Hank had previously mentioned. "We can clearly identify you, Phillip O'Reilly, as the lone culprit in this crime. Do not deny it."

Phillip turned his attention to Connor and sneered with indignity at the deviant detective. "You're clearly biased! You'd do anything to protect your own kind, wouldn't you?"

"I'm merely attempting to do my job and properly identify the guilty party in this case." Connor dropped his hand and stared at Phillip without the slightest intimidation in his soulful brown eyes. "And I have correctly identified you."

"You edited the image!" Unable to admit fault Phillip tried to turn the crime around and accuse Connor of misdeed. "You're trying to frame me!"

Connor's blue L.E.D. flashed to yellow as he ran a scan over Phillip's body. "I can detect trace amounts of accelerant on your hands that has been connected to the fire itself. I have also matched your fingerprints to the ones found on the glass shards of the smashed bottle of the Molotov cocktail that had been thrown through the front window."

"No! You're framing me!" Phillip refuted like a whiny little brat of a child. He pointed at Hank accusingly as he tried in vain to deny everything he had been rightfully accused of. "Why are you letting this machine frame me? Do your damn job! You're supposed to protect and serve, so serve me right now!"

"I AM doing my job," Hank pointed to Connor sharply as he glared at Phillip who had no concept of reality. "and so is he."

Phillip was nothing more than a desperate coward who would do anything to escape justice and get what he wanted. "Let me show you something... Something that can prove the android did it."

Hank crossed his arms defiantly over his chest as his every instinct as a cop told him that Phillip was up to something. Looking over to Connor, who seemingly shared the same bad feeling, Hank decided to cautiously humor Phillip as a means of trying to gain some kind of cooperation from the otherwise uncooperative suspect. "All right. Show us."

"This way." Phillip's head hung low as he led to the two detectives to his car parked along the drive a few yards away from the burning mansion. Using the remote key fob he opened the trunk of his car and reached inside for something, but Hank immediately commanded the man to stop moving as his hand hovered over the gun in the holstered at his right hip. "It's right in here."

"Hold it." Ordering the man with a stern voice Hank kept control over the scene. "We'll take it from here."

Connor approached the car to investigate the contents while Hank kept an eye on the cowardly man who was slowly backing away from the car and toward a large shrub alongside the drive. The deviant detective's L.E.D. cycled yellow for a moment then back to blue as he chronicled the items of question into the precinct database.

"What've we got, Connor?" Hank asked curiously as the deviant peered inside the trunk of the car. "Anything worth our time?"

"There is a spare tire and set of tools. And I can detect additional traces of alcohol in the trunk as well. It's the same brand of vodka used in creating the Molotov cocktail."

"Seriously?" Hank just stared at Phillip like he was the dumbest person on the entire planet. "How does that prove you're innocent and the android is guilty?"

"The android hid the alcohol in the trunk to make me look bad!"

Connor closed the trunk and approached the man, his L.E.D. cycling yellow with confusion. "How did you know the android supposedly put anything in your trunk unless you already knew the evidence in question was there? Why hide it from us unless you were planning on disposing of it yourself?"

Hearing the accusatory questions Phillip shot Connor an enraged look as he quickly turned around and pulled a second concealed bottle of vodka from the shrubbery behind me. With hasty movements Phillip pulled a lighter from his pocket and ignited the rag stuffed partially inside the bottle.

"Sir?" Connor dared to ask as he watched his rapid and erratic movements. "What're you-"

Grasping the bottle in a tight grip Phillip turned on his heel and threw the bottle at the two detectives. "Kill the machines!"

Before Hank could react he felt himself being pushed aside and out of harm's way by Connor as the flaming glass bottle struck against Connor's upper right shoulder, neck and the side of his face. Hank hit the ground hard on his back as Connor fell to his left side and put his hands to his instantly burning face and yelled out in horrific pain.

Seeing what he had done Phillip panicked and attempted to flee on foot, but other first responders were already at the scene making escape impossible.

"Connor!" Hank shouted as he shrugged off his dark coat and used the thick material to smother out the flames that were quickly damaging Connor's artificial skin and plastimetal frame. Responding on instinct Hank pressed the coat over Connor's upper body and patted down to beat out the flames as he endured the muttering groans of pain from Connor himself. "I got you, son! I got you..."

Unable to move from shock and pain Connor's went limp under the coat as he groaned in misery.

"It'll be okay, hold on." Keeping the coat over Connor's body Hank looked up at the firefighters in the distance and called out for help. "I need a technician over here! Officer down!"

Two firefighters had caught sight of the assault and could see the dissipating black smoke cloud that was drifting in the air above the two detectives. The fire department's on scene technician rushed over to where Connor was still laying under Hank's coat as two firefighters approached with small portable fire extinguishers in the event that Connor was still burning.

Three other officers at the scene had easily chased down and subdued Phillip as he tried and failed to flee from the scene of the crime. Now that Phillip had attacked Connor it was all but a certainty that he would be convicted for arson and attempted fraud, as well as assault and the attempted murder of a police officer. The spoiled, entitled man was now going to spend the rest of his life behind bars rather than in the lap of luxury in a slightly smaller mansion than the one he had selfishly burned down.

"Sick-fuck threw a Molotov at him!" Hank shouted as the technician peeled back Hank's coat to look at Connor beneath. The deviant's L.E.D. was still illuminated and glowing a dark red at a slow pulse. Connor was still alive but he was severely burned and had fallen into emergency stasis mode. "Oh god, Connor."

Dark black burns outlined with exposed, charred blue Thirium stretched from Connor's right temple, over his right eye, down his jawline to the right side of his neck, reaching all the way down to his right shoulder and stretching partially down his right bicep. The palms of both of Connor's hands were also burned from his futile attempts to smother out the flames himself.

A large burn hole ate through Connor's gray blazer and through his white dress shirt over his right shoulder where the Molotov had struck him after being initially thrown. That was where the damage was the most severe.

"Connor? Can you hear me?" Hank asked in a low tone as the technician pulled some sterile burn dressing from his emergency repair satchel that had been slung over his shoulder, and pressed the bandages against the burns to cover them up. "Come on, kid. Say something."

There was no verbal response from Connor as the deviant remained motionless on the driveway with four people hovering over him.

"He's in low power mode." The technician stated in a hushed voice as he pressed his hand against the center of Connor's chest to check his Thirium pump rate and his ventilation rate. The technician's name tag said 'Johnny' and the focus in Johnny's eyes spoke volumes of his experience despite having a deceptively youthful appearance. "He is alive, but he can't hear you right now."

"How bad is it?"

"He's still functioning, but he'll need some time for his self healing program to repair all of the damage." Johnny's voice carried sincere optimism as he spoke with Hank in a calm and professional demeanor. "The sooner he has the damaged artificial skin extracted, the better."

"Extracted?"

"The burns are very severe." As he spoke Johnny's voice lowered as a gurney was wheeled down the driveway to carry Connor over to the android unique ambulance that was now part of the fire department's normal emergency response routine. "They won't heal on their own and he needs technical assistance."

"Ah, fuck..." Lightly Hank put his hand to Connor's undamaged left shoulder and held his palm there for a moment. Neither detective liked spending time at a facility or a hospital for any reason. "Just hold on, son. You'll be okay, I promise."

It had been almost two hours since Connor was burned and one hour since Hank had gotten the call from Captain Fowler confirming the insanely jealous man's arrest and harsh sentencing. It's been almost just as long since Connor had arrived at the facility for treatment. With his arms crossed behind his back Hank patiently stood outside the large exam room window as Abby and her deviant assistant, a 'Jerry' model known as 'Barry', worked together to remove the burned artificial skin from Connor's face, neck, shoulder, bicep and palms. Connor's ruined blazer and dress shirt were cast aside in order to fully expose the burns gruesome beneath, and it made the severity of the deviant's overall condition painfully undeniable.

Being entirely careful and efficient Barry finished placing the damaged artificial skin into a proper disposal container while Abby applied a type of burn salve to the exposed white plastimetal frame where the burned skin had once been. The frame itself has been warped from the intense heat but would be able to reshape itself as Connor's self healing program functioned to undo the damage over the next few days.

It took Hank a moment to steel himself before he was able to enter the exam room just as Abby began applying protective bandages to conceal the mending frame from any potentially harmful foreign substances that could hinder Connor's ability to recover. Seeing Connor without his artificial skin wasn't a problem, but seeing the young deviant, his adopted son, in so much pain was a massive issue he needed to overcome.

"Hank, it's okay to come in." Abby sensed the senior detective hovering in the opened doorway watching the scene in total silence. "You won't contaminate anything."

"Connor?" Hank spoke to the unconscious deviant softly as he approached the table while Abby finished placing the first bandage over the right side of Connor's face. She was now working on covering his neck and working down toward his shoulder, bicep and eventually both of his palms. "Son? Can you hear me?."

From beneath the white bandage Hank could see Connor's red L.E.D. blinking at a slightly faster rate than it had been at the scene of the assault. The light was a good sign, but it would be better if it were blue or even yellow in color as opposed to an agonizing blood red.

"He's going to be all right." Abby stated sweetly as she secured the final bandages over Connor's burned neck. "He's going to be in pain for the next few days. His advanced programming has just many drawbacks as it does perks thanks to being a state-of-the-art prototype."

Placing his palm down over Connor's chest Hank held his palm there and silently counted Connor's heartbeat for himself. "Anything permanently damaged?"

"No, believe it or not. Not even his eye was affected by the fire. But," Abby proceeded to wrap a thick bandage around Connor's right shoulder to work down to his bicep, and moved very carefully to ensure she caused as minimal pain as possible. "the heat did compromise the physical structure of his facial plating. It can be reversed as long as the salve is applied to the burns every six hours."

"I can handle that. I've taken care of worse messes." Trying to lighten the mood Hank chuckled and cracked a small joke to try to give the unconscious deviant a sense of good spirits and comfort. "I'm talking about my myself, a toddler and roommate who loved to party way too damn long, too. Compared to that Connor being burned isn't even a challenge."

Connor's exposed, undamaged left eye began to flutter and his L.E.D. flickered back to yellow at the sound of the familiar voices speaking around him.

"Hey." Hank quickly noticed the reaction and lightly placed his hand on the deviant left shoulder in a supportive gesture. "Connor, are you awake?"

As the soulful brown iris revealed itself a loud gasp of pain escaped Connor's lips as he tried to curl around himself while rolling from his back and onto his left side. The iris disappeared as quickly as it had returned as the agony tore through Connor's body at an alarming rate and he began to breathe rapidly.

"Don't move." Hank cautioned sternly but kindly as he put his more pressure on Connor's left shoulder and grabbed onto his right forearm away from the burn while Abby continued to wrap up the wounds. Rolling Connor onto his back again Hank just kept speaking calmly as a means of keeping the deviant as calm and still as possible. "It's okay, you're safe. It's almost over."

Connor's left eye opened again, his L.E.D. now rapidly blinking red with pain as he looked at Hank. "...H-Hurts!"

"I know it does, it'll be okay." Staying calm Hank replied quickly as he held onto Connor's shoulder and always spoke in a low voice. "Pain means you're healing and it means you're still alive. That's a good thing, believe it or not."

Abby stopped fussing with the gauze just long enough to press a small electronic device to Connor's blinking L.E.D. through the bandage over his right temple. Using the sensor Abby was able to manually override the the program that allowed Connor to feel pain and temporarily turn off the program itself to give the wounded deviant some reprieve.

Steadily Connor relaxed on the table and Hank lessened his grip on Connor's right forearm while he kept his hand on the deviant's shoulder. "Easy... Just take it easy."

"Sorry about that." Abby apologized as she resumed wrapping up Connor's injuries. "I wasn't expecting you to regain consciousness so soon, otherwise I would've done that sooner."

"...s'okay." Connor slurred groggily as his system rebooted and he began to gain his bearings. "...Hank?" looking upward at Hank beside him Connor focused on his face and spoke in a strained whisper. "...Are you hurt?"

"No kid, you saved me. Thanks."

Connor's eye drifted over toward his bandaged right shoulder and bicep as his system automatically scanned over the extensive damage. "...I was burned."

"Yeah, pretty badly, too."

"...Permanently?"

"No. You'll heal in a few days. The bandages are just there in place of your damaged skin, that's all."

After wrapping up Connor's bicep Abby began gently wrapping up Connor's hands in the protective bandages and kept her eye on his uncovered left eye as she worked. "You'll need to reapply the salve and bandages every six hours for the next forty-eight hours to the damage on your face. Afterward your artificial skin will regenerate entirely."

Connor nodded a little as he gave Abby an uncertain half grin that disappeared within seconds.

"Now," expertly Abby finished applying the bandages and stepped back from the exam table. "go home and rest. I can't stop the pain permanently, your external sensor program will reengage after two hours, so if you feel any intense discomfort enter rest mode for a few minutes to ease the pain. That way your self healing program can focus on repairing the damage without straining your other senses and you won't just lay around in misery."

"...Okay." Connor seemed absolutely stunned, if not horrified, by the number of bandages that were now covering his body. "I... I understand."

Wanting to help in his own way Hank asked about alternative pain control methods. "Isn't there any painkillers for androids out there he could try?"

"Not yet." Removing her gloves Abby gave Hank a somber glance and dismissed Barry to return to the facility's waiting room. "There is an experimental painkiller called 'Thiricetomal' in the works, but it's still being tested and isn't available in any facility."

"Right. Okay, kid." Lightly Hank helped Connor to sit upright on the table while Abby kept her hand on his upper back to ease his balance. "Let us do the work for you and try to take it easy." Taking Connor's damaged blazer from the nearby chair where it had been placed during the deviant's initial treatment, Hank draped the smokey garment around Connor's shoulders and helped Connor to slide off the edge of the table. "Come on, let's get you home so you can rest for a while."

"Did the suspect..." Connor trailed off tiredly as he tried to comprehend everything that had happened to him while also remembering the investigation at hand. Leaning heavily against Hank's right side as his shaking legs seemed to move on autopilot Connor tried to focus his thoughts, but his system was just too taxed and too tired to allow him to utter a single question. "...The suspect?"

"He was arrested." Hank confirmed as he guided Connor through the facility, through the waiting room and out to the car parked a few yards away in the parking lot. Opening the car's passenger side door for Connor, the deviant's hands practically useless now, Hank guided his injured partner and adopted son down to his seat and fastened the seatbelt on Connor's behalf. "It's okay, don't worry about him. Just focus on healing, okay?"

"...O-Okay." The deviant's voice sounded lethargic and delayed as he responded with a flat tone of voice. Closing his eyes Connor sank into his seat and let his body heal as much as it could as quickly as it could. "...I'll try."

It took Connor almost five hours to find the strength and the courage to leave his bedroom and make his way into the bathroom to tend to his wounds. Meanwhile Hank spent all that time on his computer looking for any possible means of easing pain in deviant androids after leaving Connor alone to sleep. Of course Hank's search ended in failure as very little information was available regarding deviants and the ability to feel pain, which of course meant any means of easing the intense discomfort was as of the moment completely unknown. Only a few articles revolving around 'Thiricetomal' offered any hope, but as Abby told him earlier it wasn't available for purchase yet.

Staring at himself in the mirror above the bathroom sink Connor gently used his exposed left fingertips to peel back the bandage on his face and examined the white plastimetal that had been scorched and melted by the intense heat of the fire beneath. The salve would help restore the original shape of the frame to prevent any disfigurement. However, Connor was almost too afraid to touch his own face. The face that was staring back at him from his own reflection was frightening.

The deviant didn't seem to recognize his own reflection.

There was a noticeable warping of the panel just under his right eye and around his L.E.D. that made Connor freeze in place and stare. Though his right eye survived the blaze intact the heat did cause several small Thirium lines within the eye to rupture and tint the white around his brown iris a pale blue. As his shaking fingertips brushed against the damage he outwardly flinched and dropped his hand down away from his face in utter pain and shock.

"This... This is... too much." A gentle knock at the bathroom door made Connor jump but he answered after a few seconds of silence. "...Yes?"

"Need help with your bandages?" Hank called through the closed door in a level voice. "I don't mind."

"...I'm okay." Connor lied as he forced himself to clumsily open the white plastic bottle of salve with his bandaged hands and put a generous amount on his still exposed fingertips. Pressing the salve gingerly to his face Connor flinched and held his breath as the pain ached through his entire face and seemed to trail throughout the rest of his body. "...I'm fine."

Falling quiet Hank stayed outside the bathroom door while Connor tended to his injuries in private. There was something compelling Hank to stay close by, almost as if he knew that Connor was in some form of silent distress and needed help.

Despite his best efforts Connor just couldn't withstand the pain and stopped applying the salve. He was unable to tend to the damage to his face or take care of himself. Falling back to the edge of the tub Connor just sat in silence, curling around himself as much as possible, while his bandaged L.E.D. flashed red with indescribable pain. He pressed the bandage back down over his face to hide the damage as he began to cry in misery.

"Son?" Partially pushing the door open Hank looked inside the bathroom and eyed Connor breathing slowly through the agony that was overwhelming his senses. Taking the salve from the sink Hank walked over to where Connor was sitting on the edge of the bathtub and knelt down in front of the deviant to offer him some help. "Let me see your hands."

"I-It's okay." Connor lied through gritted teeth. "...I already took care of it."

"And you managed to perfectly re-bandage your own hands, too?" The senior detective was too seasoned to be fooled so easily. "There's no shame in asking for help."

"I don't need help." The deviant nearly sobbed as he fought to keep his emotions in check. "I need the pain to stop."

"I know you don't want to hear it, but, you need to be patient."

"Patience doesn't stop the pain."

"Yeah, I know exactly what you mean." Using a gentle grip Hank pushed against Connor's left shoulder to force the deviant to sit upright and then took Connor's right hand in his own. Unwrapping the gauze from around the appendage Hank stared at the plastimetal palm with a strange curiosity. "No burns, but I bet it still hurts like a bitch."

Connor only nodded as Hank applied the salve to the exposed frame and then wrapped up Connor's hand again under a layer of fresh bandages. Repeating the action for Connor's left hand Hank expertly tended to the injuries with surprising efficiency and without ever looking uncomfortable as he treated each painful wound.

As Hank reached his hand up toward Connor's right shoulder to peel back the bandages Connor turned his head away and flinched abruptly. "Did I hurt you?"

"N-No. Guess I'm just... wary."

"Can't say that I blame you." Just like Connor's palms the injury to his right shoulder and bicep left behind only the exposed plastimetal frame where the artificial skin and synthetic muscle layer had once been. As Hank lightly applied the salve to the wounds he watched Connor's exposed left eye shut tightly as he breathed through his gritted teeth slowly to keep himself from screaming. "You know, the truly terrible part about suffering from a burn isn't the pain you experience while recovering; it's the scar that gets left behind after the burn itself heals."

Curiously Connor opened his left eye and looked at Hank with an analytical glance. "...You seem to be speaking from experience. Do you know a lot about burns?"

Sighing with a empathetic half smile Hank replaced the bandages around Connor's shoulder and looked at the side of the face that Connor was trying to turn away from him. "Let me see."

"...I took care of it already."

"Let me see anyway."

"I... I don't want you to see it."

"Why?"

Connor put his bandaged right hand up over the bandage on his face and closed his left eye again. "Because I don't even want to see it for myself."

Pushing himself up from the bathroom floor Hank sat on the edge of the bathtub beside Connor and ran his hand over his bearded chin for a moment. Moving his hand to the collar of his own t-shirt the senior detective spoke to the deviant in an empathetic manner. "Want to know why I know so much about burns?"

Remaining silent Connor just looked at Hank awaiting the inevitable answer.

Hank pulled down the collar of his gray t-shirt and revealed a healed scar of what was once a deep, horrible second degree burn along his left shoulder blade.

"Just two years into my career I responded to a call about a drug den burning down in the industrial district." He stated with a distant stare in his blue eyes as he looked away from Connor, looked away from his own burn, and away from the rest of the world. "I arrived at the scene and the damage was done. Dozens of junkies had died from smoke inhalation or massive burns when the building exploded. I had the misfortune of standing too close to the building when a second explosion destroyed what was left of their supply." Releasing his collar Hank leaned back slightly and turned his focus back to Connor. "I spent three days in the burn ward. The chemicals made the fire burn at such a high degree that even after a few seconds the flames reached my muscle and some exposed some nerves."

Such a gruesome wound made Connor's L.E.D. flicker from yellow to red in empathetic distress. "...How'd you survive the pain?"

"The doctors had kept me sedated so I could sleep through the worst of the pain, then after I woke up I continued to self medicate with pills and some alcohol until I was nearly in a coma on my bedroom floor. I probably would've died there, too, if I didn't have my former partner, Barbara, there to pick my self pitying ass up off the floor and help me take care of myself until the burn finally healed after four weeks. It took another three weeks for the pain to become bearable. And then it took me almost a year before I was able to look at the scar without feeling sick to my stomach."

"Scar?" Connor's hand began to drop from his face slowly and began to shake. "...Will I have a scar?"

"Not if you let me help you. You can't take care of your burns by yourself just like I couldn't take care of mine by myself." Letting out a breathy sigh Hank gave Connor one last piece of advice. "Mental scars hurt worse than physical ones, but it's the physical scars that draw the unwanted attention."

Taking a deep breath Connor nodded in agreement as he understood what Hank was telling him. Accepting that he needed assistance the stubborn deviant finally allowed Hank to look at his face. "...Okay."

Keeping his touch light Hank peeled back the bandage over Connor's face to expose the white frame beneath. Without even flinching or blinking Hank looked Connor right in the eyes as he finished applying the salve that Connor had only partially covered over the damage to his right eye, cheek and jawline a few minutes earlier.

Connor resisted the urge to flinch away from the painful touch as he let Hank to tend to the burn, trusting Hank implicitly with his health.

"All right, done. We'll do this again in six hours." Hank replaced the bandage and closed the bottle of salve with an audible 'snap'. "Try to rest for a while to keep your mind off it. It won't do much for your pain now, but if you get some rest it'll help you recover a little faster. And remember, if you can still feel anything then that means you're still alive."

"...Thank you." Connor's hand lightly pressed against the bandage on his face again as he felt the pain already beginning to diminish. "I appreciate you helping me."

"You're welcome, son. Any time."

Following Hank's invaluable advice Connor spent the next six hours laying on his left side over the length of the couch with his right hand gingerly petting Sumo's head nonstop much to the large and loyal dog's joy. The persistent, sharp pain from his injuries still gnawed away at him with every beat of his heart, but Connor just kept repeating to himself what Hank had told him about pain being a good thing; pain meant that he was healing. As long as he could still feel anything - whether that was pain, temperature changes or even Sumo's fur under his bandaged palm, then that meant Connor was still active, alert and functioning.

Pain meant he was still alive. How Connor sometimes missed being a numb, cold machine.

"Sit up." Hank stated as he approached the couch with the jar of burn salve in his hand. "We need to treat your burns again."

Pushing himself upright with his left elbow Connor obediently sat upright on the couch and allowed Hank to remove his bandages to reapply the healing salve. The treatment was already aiding his plastimetal frame to repair properly, but the pain was still chronic and grating.

"Huh, look at that." With a focused stare Hank studied the palm of Connor's right hand curiously. "Looks like your skin is already returning a little."

Connor looked down at his palm and sure enough a good half inch diameter of his artificial skin had regenerated from the outer edges of his palm and was beginning to regenerate inward toward the center of his palm. The pain had also lessened to degree as the salve did its job and aided his self healing program in the overall repairs to his plastimetal frame.

"Let's see the other hand." Sure enough both of Connor's hands were healing at an impressive rate much to Connor's relief. "Keep your hands wrapped up until your palms are fully healed." Hank stated as he used the salve on the healing injuries then replaced the bandages. "I don't want you getting sick again."

"Yes, of course."

"Let's check your neck, your shoulder and your bicep." Hank peeled back the gauze protecting the injuries, and just like Connor's hands had done his artificial skin was regenerating without any difficulty. "Man, this stuff really works. Too bad human medicine isn't as efficient as android medicine."

While Hank took care of his shoulder Connor peeled back the bandage over his face and pressed his hand against the injury. The pain was now finally becoming bearable and Connor was no longer afraid to touch it.

"Your eye has cleared up." Hank noticed that the blue tint had disappeared from around Connor's brown iris and that the artificial skin around his L.E.D. had fully regenerated. "And it looks like your face will be one-hundred percent by tomorrow afternoon."

Connor let out a sigh of relief as his L.E.D. mercifully stopped cycling in red and shifted back to yellow as he spoke. "Hank?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you for helping me through this."

"Of course. You'd do the same for me, there's no need to thank me for just doing the right thing by ya'. You're my son."

"I'm not referring to my injuries, I'm referring to your advice." Connor's soulful brown eyes reflected the true emotion in his heart. "It has helped me immensely with my recovery. Thank you."

"My advice? Are you talking about dealing with pain?"

"Correct. I now know that pain will forever be apart of my deviancy program and that it's something I must learn to endure, and now I can truly accept it. Now I understand that pain is important to some degree of life. It gives humans appreciation for their health and their good fortune." Such a critical lesson was worth learning in spite of the pain. "It's a crucial reminder that despite our strength we are still vulnerable and must maintain caution in order to succeed in life."

With an arched brow Hank finished taking care of Connor's injuries and replaced the bandages carefully over the healing burns. "I'm glad I can offer some worthy advice from time to time, although I don't think I'm that deep of a thinker. I've never been one to take advice myself until it was too late, so I'm glad someone finally listened to these words of wisdom."

"When it's good advice someone will always listen."

Appreciative of the smart remark Hank patted Connor's left shoulder in a supportive manner. "Thanks, son."

-next chapter-