As a sincere favor to Chris, an honest and respectable officer at the precinct, Connor chose to work additional night shifts with the young officer to pick up some overtime to take care of his growing family. Chris's second child; a daughter, was born two months prior and he wanted to make sure both of his children could afford college tuition down the line by working hard and saving up. Having only worked night shifts with Hank regarding cases with deviants, Connor found the experience to be mutually beneficial as it allowed him to act more as a Sergeant working on the streets and less of a detective sifting through a grisly murder at a crime scene.

"Thanks for doing this again, Connor." Chris commented from the passenger seat of the squad car as he sipped his bland coffee from the stainless steel thermos in his hand. The caffeine was helping him keep awake and alert. "I appreciate it."

"You're welcome." Connor acknowledged as he drove the car along the dark and quiet street as the duo continued their patrol. "I'm always happy to help."

"And, uh, sorry if these night shifts screw up your sleep."

"My sleep cycles can be adjusted accordingly to accommodate my schedule. It doesn't affect me in the same way it can affect a human."

Chris finished off the coffee and placed the empty container in the cup holder to his left. "Too bad humans can't adjust so easily. It'd come in handy with a colicky newborn baby at two in the morning."

Before he could ask about the baby Connor's blue L.E.D. flashed to yellow as he received a report of a robbery in progress at a gas station two blocks away. The report lined up with the details from dispatch as the report also came over the radio in the squad car. Chris responded to the report with the radio as Connor turned at the next corner to head to the gas station in question and flipped on the flashing lights and sirens of the car.

Arriving first at the scene Chris and Connor rushed inside the gas station with their guns drawn to stop the robbery and to arrest the two suspects, teenagers, before anyone could be harmed in the middle of the crime.

"Drop the gun!" Chris shouted as he kept his aim on the teenagers, but didn't let his finger hover over the trigger. He had no intention of opening fire on two kids who were already scared stiff and making a big mistake. "Get on the floor!"

Connor scanned the interior of the gas station and noted that the backdoor to the station had been forced open from the inside, but the lone clerk was ducking down behind the front counter out of harm's way. There was at least one other suspect involved in the crime and was attempting to flee the building through the backdoor. Locating the exit to the building Connor stepped through the backdoor and noted the third fleeing suspect attempting and failing to climb over a chainlink fence to get down an alleyway and away from the building.

"Stop! Detroit Police." Connor demanded as he approached the fleeing teenager warily. On guard and alert his L.E.D. transitioned from blue to yellow swiftly as he relied on his training and instincts to handle the situation. "Get on the ground, put your hands behind your head."

The teenager turned around quickly. He was unarmed and therefore not a threat, but that didn't stop him from panicking and rushing toward the deviant in a desperate bid to escape. Just as Chris wanted everything to end peacefully, Connor didn't want to open fire on the teenager - especially since he was unarmed, but he still needed to react accordingly. Quickly holstering his gun under his gray blazer Connor grabbed onto the teen's fist as he charged Connor and tried to physically strike the deviant during his escape.

"Stop!" Connor demanded again as he restrained the teen easily with his hands pressing against the young man's arms. Holding the teenager out at arm's length Connor planted his feet in place and refused to budge. "Do not add resisting arrest or add assaulting a police officer to the list of charges."

"I'm not going to jail!" The frightened teen screamed as he tried again and again to strike Connor, but the deviant was too quick and too strong for the kid to successfully land any blows. "I won't go! I won't go!"

"YO!" From the other side of the fence a loud, angry voice shouted at Connor as a man dressed in anti-android orange gang colors and brandishing an aluminum baseball bat bolted up to and climbed over the fence landing on his feet on the other side. Charging at Connor at full speed the gang member wasn't afraid to attack Connor and showed no sign of backing down once he started his threats. "FUCKIN' PIECE OF PLASTIC! LET HIM GO!"

Connor turned around in time to catch the man's face as he swung a baseball viciously against Connor's right side. The impact was strong enough to fracture the white plastimetal frame that created Connor's upper chest where his ribcage would be located if he were human. Feeling the breath forcibly escape his body Connor let go of the teen's arms and fell to his knees heavily as his yellow L.E.D. flashed to red in distress and pain.

Another blow from the baseball bat struck Connor over his upper back and shoulders, then again over the middle of his back just beneath his shoulders. Again and again Connor endured the strikes to his back and shoulders, and coughed a little as the powerful impact prevented him taking a breath.

The man kicked Connor in the right side near his stomach causing the deviant to visibly flinch in pain as he rolled onto his left side and then over onto his back.

"Piece of shit!"

Using the bat again the man landed blow after blow against Connor's chest and abdomen causing the deviant to wrap his arms protectively over his battered body as he in turn tried to curl around himself defensively.

The teen, still panicking, kicked Connor in the side of the face several times before the man grabbed onto the teen's arm and pushed him toward the fence. Connor's right eye was damaged by the impact and quickly swelled shut from the assault, but he could still see what was happening around him.

"Go on, get out of here!" The gang member shouted as he returned his attention to the battered deviant laying on the ground. "I'll take care of this..."

Connor spit out a mouthful of blue blood as he opened his uninjured left eye to look up at the man looming over him with the bat. Moving his right hand carefully to keep the man from making any drastic decisions Connor located the gun holstered under his blazer and pointed it at the man's right shoulder. Squeezing the trigger once the bullet pierced the man's shoulder causing him to cry out in pain and drop the bat in response.

"YOU FUCKER!" The man shouted as he put his left hand to his bleeding wound in his right shoulder. Making a grab for the dropped bat the man seethed as he continued to loom over Connor with every intention of finishing what he started. "I'LL KILL YOU!"

From the opened rear doorway of the gas station a familiar voice called out loudly as another person approached and came to Connor's rescue. "FREEZE."

Connor shifted his good eye to look at the person who had come to his aid and breathed a sigh of relief. "...Chris."

"GET ON THE GROUND, NOW!" Chris ordered as he stepped closer and aimed the barrel of his gun at the center of the man's chest. "I will NOT tell you again!"

At the sight of the two guns being pointed at him, one from Connor laying on the ground and the other from the still able-bodied officer standing his ground just a few feet away, the wounds man raised his hands as best as he could to surrender as he backed away from Connor and knelt on the ground. Giving the bat a quick toss the man disarmed himself and muttered anti-android slurs under his breath.

"Plastic-freak..."

"HANDS BEHIND YOUR BACK."

The man let out an angry sigh but obeyed as Chris converged on him and cuffed his hands behind his back quickly. Hefting the man up to his feet by grabbing onto his left arm Chris pushed the man through the gas station's backdoor to put him in the backseat of the squad car still parked out in front of the station on the opposite side of the lot where Connor had been assaulted.

"Hold on, Connor." Chris stated calmly as he escorted the arrested man around the downed deviant with a firm grip on the arrested man's arm. "I'll get you some help, try not to move."

Connor nodded weakly as he let the gun drop from his hand and let his good eye close slowly. Numerous warnings flashed in his visual processors indicating the dozens of fractures to his plastimetal frame, the damage to several internal biocomponents in his chest and abdomen, as well as the compromised internal Thirium lines leaking blue blood. There was no shutdown warning or timer, but Connor still needed emergency repairs before his condition deteriorated.

A sudden jostling caused Connor's good eye to snap back open and see the face of a male technician looking down at him. Connor's hands clutched at the soft surface beneath his body and he realized he had been placed onto a gurney and was being wheeled to the android unique ambulance waiting out in front of the gas station. The technician was saying something to Connor but his audio processors were full of static that made it impossible for him to hear any words, but he could still read the technician's lips with his one good eye.

'You're going to be fine.' A comforting if not cliche comment to make for someone who had been injured. 'Officer Miller has contacted your partner, he'll meet you at the facility.'

Connor knew he was in stable condition but the pain and the Thirium loss had left him incredibly fatigued and slightly confused. The numerous injuries he had sustained had already exerted his self healing program and resulted in the deviant drifting in and out of consciousness despite his best efforts to remain awake during transport. Closing his one good eye again Connor let himself drift off to sleep as the gurney was quickly wheeled to the ambulance, and the ambulance doors slammed shut.

Darkness consumed Connor's vision and the deviant knew nothing more of the world around him.

A bright, white light shining down into his one responsive eye drew Connor's systems back online as he regained consciousness yet again. Looking past the light Connor recognized the kind face of Abby examining his injuries and applying emergency repairs to his current damaged condition. The familiarity of Abby was bittersweet as his repeated affiliation with the woman created a bond of trust, while also reminding him of how often he had been admitted to the Zeta Facility due previous injuries and damage he sustained in the line of duty. It seemed his voyage through deviancy had left him less graceful and swift as he had been when CyberLife was constantly telling him what to do and how to respond.

Blinking slowly Connor looked away from the light and used his self diagnostic to confirm his system's damage. It was severe, not critical, and he wouldn't require any extensive repairs.

"Connor?" Abby saw Connor's brown iris following her every move as she hovered over him. "Are you awake?"

Connor swallowed once before he answered in a low voice. "...I'm conscious."

"Hi. How do you feel?"

"Terrible."

"That's understandable." She stood up straight as she took the audioscope that was draped casually around her neck and put the earpieces into place. "You suffered numerous fractures to your detral axial frame surrounding the right side of your chest cavity, the anterior surface and the dorsal frame of your upper right side. You've also lost just over a pint of Thirium due to internal trauma."

Connor pressed his hands to the portions of his chest that has been damaged and sucked in a deep breath between his gritted teeth as the resulting pain was intensely searing. His white dress shirt, black tie and gray blazer had been removed to allow Abby full access to his chest and abdomen.

"Try not to move, I still need to wrap your chest up." Abby cautioned her patient as she pressed the bell of the audioscope to the center of Connor's chest with just enough pressure to listen to his Thirium pump and his ventilation biocomponents without aggravating the injuries in the process. "Breathe slowly and as deeply as you can for me."

Obeying the instructions Connor did his best to breathe through the pain without moving while he patiently watched Abby run the bell over his chest from left to right, then over the center as she listened to his breathing and to his heartbeat thrumming away inside his partially broken chest.

"One more test, and I need you to sit up for me. Let me guide you." Putting one arm under Connor's shoulders Abby helped Connor to sit upright on the table slowly without aggravating his wounds in the process. "Easy, easy... I got you."

The deviant was practically gasping for breath at the sudden shock of the pain from moving and couldn't sit up on his own. Unable to balance properly Abby wrapped her other arm lightly around Connor's upper body over his chest to support him while proceeding to run the bell of the audioscope over his back carefully as she listened his his struggling breaths and racing heart more thoroughly. She was essentially hugging the deviant while treating his wounds.

As Connor let out a single weak groan of pain and took in forced breaths, Abby lightly shushed him and supported as much of his weight against herself as possible. "Both of your ventilation biocomponents sound clear. Aside from the pain are you having any difficult breathing?"

"...N-No."

"Okay. Lay back down." Abby guided Connor back until he was laying flat against the surface of the table, and made sure he was comfortable before she pulled her hands back. "Try to breathe slowly, it'll ease the pain."

There was a soft knock at the closed door of the exam room as Hank pushed it open slightly and peeked inside the room. "How's he doing?"

Connor turned his head, his one good eye focusing in on the senior detective quickly as a sense of relief fell over him. "...I'm fine."

"You sure as hell don't look fine." Hank walked into the room and stood over the exam table with an unmistakable stare of sympathy in his blue eyes. He immediately honed on the painfully bruised black eye and gave it a grimace. "Chris told me what happened. You're lucky to be alive, kid."

"I've encountered worse than an angry man with a baseball bat."

"Yeah, but that particular man is a member of the anti-android gang ruining the city, AND that particular teenager you were trying to apprehend was the newest recruit. The gas station robbery was his initiation test." Hank explained everything calmly and logically. "If he had a gun he would've shot you dead without warning."

Connor winced in pain as Abby ran her hands over his upper chest again to check the stability of the numerous fractures. "Sorry. Once I drain the excess Thirium I can reconnect the damaged lines and get your ribs wrapped."

"I don't have ribs."

Abby gave Connor a slightly annoyed look. "Sounds like your processing faculties are still in check, but never argue with your technician."

Approving of Abby's treatment methods Hank smirked at her comment and quickly sided with her. "Watch it, Connor. Don't piss off the doctor who's treating you."

Worried he had something wrong Connor tried to save face. "I didn't mean-"

"We're joking, son. It's fine." Patting Connor's arm once Hank looked to Abby for the details. "So... How bad is it?"

"Not as bad as it could've been." She confirmed with a professional acknowledgement. "By some miracle his internal biocomponents escaped serious harm, but he did lose some Thirium and has a few cracks in his side and his chest plastimetal frames. It'll take about two days for his self healing program to repair the damage."

"Can I take him home tonight?"

"Yeah, just let me get him bandaged up and he's all yours."

Connor kept his focus on Hank as he processed the night's unusual events and pieced together his memory correctly. It was a late night hour, or perhaps early morning, when he was attacked. He had been injured by an angry man with a vendetta against androids, but what about Chris?

"...I was unable to see clearly or ask while I was at the scene. Is Chris okay?" Connor asked as if suddenly aware of the officer's involvement in the night's assault. His yellow L.E.D. flashed to red with panic as he tried and failed to sit upright again as Hank pushed him back down by the shoulders. "I didn't-"

"Don't move. Chris is fine, not a scratch on him."

"...Good. That's good." Connor smiled weakly as Abby pressed her fingers against the red L.E.D. in his temple and put her other hand down lightly over the center of his chest. Understanding the prompt Connor retracted the artificial skin over his chest exposing the fractured white plastimetal frame beneath for her to repair. Smears of blue blood that had seeped through the numerous fractures had stained the white a pale soft blue color and looked like fresh bruises. "I'm glad he wasn't harmed."

Muttering under his breath Hank sighed and put his hand over his bearded chin in a strategic manner to hide his mouth. "I wish we could say the same thing about you."

Abby lightly palpated the fractures and watched as Connor physically flinched from the resulting pain. "Sorry about that. Can you open the panel in the upper right quadrant of your chest for me?"

Nodding a little Connor reached his right hand up and pressed down on the panel to slide it open himself. Something about applying pressure to his own wounds seemed to lessen the pain, but it still hurt all the same. As the panel opened Abby placed a small suction tube into his chest to drain the spilled Thirium while she easily reconnected the severed Thirium lines to their respective biocomponents and couplings inside his chest.

"I'd estimate there's a pint of Thirium in your chest." Abby stated as she cleaned the wound and reconnected another damaged line to its coupling. "Almost done..."

Hank put his hand over Connor's forehead and gave the deviant a tired but reassuring smile. "I don't think you should do any more late shifts with Chris for a while. That's how you got a bullet in your arm a while back, isn't it?"

"Correct." Confirming the past incident Connor gave Hank a weary stare. "I remember, the incident but it was merely a graze. I hadn't actually been shot."

"And don't think you're going to go right back to work after the two days of healing are up. You need to understand the difference between healing and recovering, son."

"The two are synonymous. I do not see how there could be a difference."

"Healing means your injury has mended." Hank explained casually as he helped Connor to sit upright on the table. He kept his hand against the deviant's shoulder to support him while Abby drained the excess Thirium before she used a unique form of gauze designed specifically to absorb lost Thirium over the plastimetal framing. "Recovering means you let yourself relax AFTER you've healed so you don't exhaust yourself."

"...I think I understand."

Abby smiled as she closed the panel in Connor's chest on the deviant's stead, and then wrapped up his chest and side to give his fractured frame some physical support while the self healing program repaired the damage. The deviant had been expertly distracted by Hank and wasn't even registering the pain that was surely racking his chest as she finished her work to aid him.

Once the panel was closed and the bandages were wrapped around his chest, Connor's artificial skin regenerated as an automatic response and the bandages held in place.

"Good, glad you understand." Hank nodded at Abby as she finished wrapping up Connor's chest and secured the bandages. "Now, let's get you back home. I'm tired and I have to go to work in the morning."

"I can-"

"Nope." Instinctively Hank let Connor lean against his shoulder as the deviant swung his legs over the edge of the table to stand up. "You're injured. Between your busted ribs and black eye even desk duty is too much for you."

"But I don't have-"

"Connor, no. Your chest is busted up and you need to heal."

Abby interjected quickly and agreed with Hank as she helped the deviant to slip on his dirty white shirt over his arms and then up to his shoulders. "Listen to him, Connor. Take it easy for a while. Two days minimum if you cooperate. If you don't, I'll keep you off work for a week."

Reluctantly Connor agreed to stay home and pressed his hand to his 'ribs' as the pain persisted with every breath he took. Turning off his ventilation program wasn't an option since his self healing program would cause him to overheat without proper ventilation coursing through his core. "...Very well. I will remain inactive for the next forty-eight hours."

"Finally. Here's your jacket." Hank handed the equally dirty gray blazer to Connor and helped guide the deviant out of the facility. Keeping one arm around Connor's upper back just under the bruises Hank supported as much of the deviant's weight as he could while they walked out of the facility to get to the car parked outside. "Tomorrow you're staying home and the day after that you're going to do the same. No arguments."

"...Okay, Hank." Wincing a little Connor sucked in a breath between his gritted teeth and tried to ignore the burning pain in his chest. "I understand."

All day long Connor sat on the couch in the livingroom with Sumo's head resting on his lap as he rubbed the dog's ears affectionately. Keeping one hand pressed against his sore chest he leaned his head back against the couch cushion behind him and took in deep breaths to try to ease the severe pain that made it difficult for him to sit upright, even against the soft support. Fortunately for Connor, that day Sumo decided he'd rather spend his time inside rather than wanting to go out for a walk or play in the backyard, and just relax as well. The only time Connor had to get up was to let Sumo into the backyard when the large, lovable dog needed to take care of business.

It was just after six o'clock in the evening when the front door opened and Hank walked inside the house completely worn-out and exhausted for his shift at the precinct. As he dropped down into the recliner beside the couch he gave the healing deviant a sympathetic glance and ran his hand through his gray locks of hair in a fatigued manner. "You look like you had as much fun staying home as I did going to work."

"I don't do well with monotony. No."

"You still in pain?"

"...Yes."

"Must be bad, otherwise you'd be trying to deny it."

"I dislike being unable to take in a deep breath." A sharp pain in his chest made his yellow L.E.D. briefly blink red and his body jump a little. "The limitation is frustrating."

"And that's why I told you to stay home."

Something about Hank's tone and his insistence on Connor taking it easy was almost alarming. "...You've been injured in a similar manner, haven't you?"

"...Yeah. The car accident that took Cole from me." Speaking about the accident was something Hank rarely ever did, and every time he brought it up Hank sounded completely broken in both heart and soul. "I fractured eight ribs and was in the most excruciating pain of my life. But I didn't care about that, all I cared about was Cole."

"I'm sorry, Hank."

"I tried to ignore my own injuries, tried to force myself back into some kind of routine and I ended up making myself deathly sick with pneumonia." Cautioning the deviant on the dangers of not taking the time to heal, Hank continued the conversation. "Jeffrey came by to check on me and found my dumb ass passed out in the hallway. He called an ambulance and I ended up in the hospital for two weeks, one of 'em on a ventilator. I don't want to see you push yourself too hard and end up making yourself worse like I did."

"But I can't develop pneumonia."

"No, but that doesn't mean you can't push yourself so hard you end up collapsing from either pain or exasperating your injuries. Fuck," sounding more fatigued by the minute as he spoke about the past, Hank began to worry about the future. "you androids probably have your own version of pneumonia to worry about."

"...Hank, are you frightened that something will cause me to shutdown?"

"Of course I am!" Nearly blurting the answer Hank quickly calmed himself down and tried to explain his worries to the deviant without getting too worked up. It was a delicate subject at hand and it needed to be addressed just as delicately. "I don't want you to die, Connor."

"I don't want to die either."

"Then please, for my sanity and for your own safety, stop trying to push yourself so much harder than anyone else. Being an android doesn't mean you have to work any harder than anyone else at the precinct. You're allowed to take time for yourself and you're allowed to not be perfect. Learn to pace yourself and accept that perfection isn't mandatory."

"I'm sorry. I just want to help people." Rubbing Sumo's ears as he spoke Connor tried to make Hank stop worrying about him so much. "Deviants, humans and even animals alike."

"I know you do, son. But you need to learn to help yourself, too." Speaking as any father would to their child, Hank was kind, patient and empathetic toward Connor's mindset. "Taking care of yourself or putting your needs above someone else on occasion isn't selfish. It's self preservation and it's apart of humanity."

"Okay." Sensing the unspoken pleading in Hank's voice Connor made him a sincere promise to start to be put himself above his job from time to time and to learn to take it easy. "I swear I will spend less time working so many additional hours at the precinct and spend more time doing activities for myself."

"Thank you, that's all I ask."

"What should I do during my downtime? I'm..." Struggling to explain his current mindset Connor gave his father a curious glance. "I believe I'm bored."

"Whatever you want to do, kid. You're free to make your own decisions."

"My own decisions. Right." Connor thought about it for a moment but there wasn't anything he wanted to do except work on cases. "What would you do in my position?"

"Me? I dunno', maybe catch up on some reading or indulge in some old movies, maybe get lost in my old records..." A eureka moment struck Hank and knew exactly what Connor should do to preoccupy his mind. "Why don't you play your guitar?"

"I... I haven't played since..." The prospect of playing his guitar came with a heavy burden in his heart. "...The night before Lucas died."

"I don't think Lucas would want you to stop playing, son."

"No, he wouldn't. But I no longer have my guitar pick."

Hank knew that Connor had given the pick to Lucas before he was buried, but he didn't say anything about it. It was something that Connor didn't mention and hadn't spoken of since. The brotherly gesture was meant to be private, if not secretive, but Hank had witnessed it from afar.

"You don't need a pick to play. Just use your fingers, that's how I learned to play." The suggestion was as logical as it was sincere. "It can even sound a little different when you play with just your fingers compared to a pick."

"I've never heard you-" Connor leaned forward a little and immediately winced in pain, his hand pressing harder against his chest in response. Sumo whimpered and pressed his chin down even harder on Connor's leg, too. "Why don't you show me how you play guitar?"

"Because I haven't played since the academy." The reply wasn't a lie. "I just didn't have the time after I graduated, and I had even less time after I met Barbara and had Cole. I had an active social life back then, believe it or not."

"Perhaps you should resume playing? You have plenty of time now."

"You can be a real smartass sometimes," smirking at the sharp retort Hank gave the deviant an amused grin. "you know that Connor?"

"Adapting to human behavior is one my higher functions. I must've acquired the habit from spending so much time with you."

"Uh-huh, yeah, I can see that."

Connor was still very intrigued by the fact that Hank too could play guitar and wanted to learn more. "Where is your guitar?"

"I sold it years ago." Hank admitted in a heavy voice as he recalled the exact night he pawned it in a local shop and never saw it again. "It helped pay for Barb's engagement ring."

"Want to use mine?"

"Yours?"

"Yes." Connor was insistent and wanted to hear Hank play. "Show me how to play without a pick, I want to see the differences in the two techniques."

"If I do, will you promise to spend less time worrying about work cases and more time enjoying yourself during your time off?"

Smiling his faint, awkward grin Connor nodded sincerely. "I promise."

"All right." Standing up from the recliner Hank stretched out his back and made his way toward the hallway to get the guitar in Connor's bedroom. "Do me a quick favor: Lower your expectations. I'm rusty..."

-next chapter-