Laying on his bed with his left arm tucked neatly under his head Connor had his eyes closed while his yellow L.E.D. flashed rhythmically as he received numerous updates from both the precinct and New Jericho Tower regarding crimes, cases and general activity throughout the city. Resting his right hand over his chest Connor flexed and relaxed his hand in rhythm with his L.E.D. as he easily filed away each report and categorized the reports of interest based on the severity of the confirmed details. As his hand flexed and relaxed his artificial skin would recede and regenerate with perfect timing as if Connor couldn't commit to its aesthetic being in place.
It was seemingly quiet until something of great interest appeared in Connor's caseload at the precinct. A report of recent anti-android gang activity caught Connor's full attention causing his soulful brown eyes to snap open and the deviant to sit upright on the bed. It was getting late, just a few minutes after ten in the evening, but Connor was determined to work on a case in order to distract his already racing mind from his rather bleak and confused thoughts of being a deviant in a human world.
The gang activity throughout the city had decreased notably due to the brutally cold winter, but whenever the violence returned dozens of innocent people; humans and deviants alike, would become caught in the crossfire and injured. Whereas gang wars hadn't been an issue as of late, the tension building in the city was still enough to cause even the most docile of personalities to begin lashing out defensively.
Swinging his legs over the edge of his bed Connor approached his closet and pulled the door open to retrieve his leather jacket and black woolen beanie in favor of his usual gray blazer and black tie. Slipping on the more human garments over his black t-shirt and his hair, he grabbed his tan boots instead of his dark gray work boots and made his way out of his bedroom and down the hallway into the livingroom.
Sumo's tail thumped a few times against the floor as the large, old dog watched Connor's every movement curiously as soon as the deviant came into his line of sight. Laying on his pillow in the corner of the livingroom Sumo was happy to see Connor for the first time in almost a full day, but the cold was making it too painful for Sumo to get up and walk around thanks to his arthritis.
The deviant was moving about slowly, quietly and using every trick for discretion that he could think of. Connor slipped on the boots and stopped just long enough to pat the massive dog's head and rub his hand along Sumo's graying muzzle before making his way to the front door.
"There's something important I need to do, I'll be back later, boy."
Connor stated in a low whisper as to not rouse Hank from his sleep down the hallway.
"I promise."
Opening the front door silently Connor slipped out into the darkness of the cold, wintry night as he set out to confront the violence of the anti-android gangs with every intention of finally bringing the chaos to an end. One way or another Connor was bound and determined to prove himself as either a man or a machine to the all of the people in the city to acknowledge.
It was something he needed to prove to them and to himself...
Unbeknownst to Connor, who had quietly resided in solitude inside his dim bedroom ever since he returned home earlier that morning, Hank was still wide awake and listening to every little noise in the house. Having heard Connor's bedroom door open then close, followed by the front door doing the same in a very quiet but still audible manner, Hank had decided to go check things out for himself as his paternal instincts told him that something big was happening. The way the physically healing deviant was being so aloof and depressed made Hank genuinely worry for Connor's overall emotional, mental and even psychological health since Connor was still learning what it meant to be alive.
Wrapping his dark blue robe around himself Hank opened his bedroom door and called out for Connor despite already knowing that the deviant had slipped out of the house for the night. Needing to know what was happening Hank made the attempt to reach Connor even though he was putting up emotional barriers.
"Connor?"
Calling out for the deviant in a slightly congested voice Hank received no reply, only silence. Opening his bedroom door wider Hank wandered down the hallway and checked out the livingroom for any sign of Connor, but saw the room empty save for Sumo.
"Where'd you go, kid?"
The car keys were still where Hank had left them on the bookshelf against the wall in the livingroom which meant Connor was either traveling on foot or using an autonomous cab, neither of which were alarming. However, noticing that Connor left his usual work boots by the front door meant he had left the house in his less deviant attire - the gray blazer over his white dress shirt and black tie, in favor of the simple humanoid clothing that Hank had insisted he wear when wanting to keep a low profile.
To confirm his suspicions Hank walked into Connor's bedroom and checked the closet. Sure enough the leather jacket and beanie were gone and his gray blazer had been left behind.
"What the hell? Connor, what're you up to?"
Closing the closet door Hank ran a hand thoughtfully over his bearded chin and returned to his own bedroom to change into some fresher clothes.
"Damn it, son. Don't try to run off again."
Looking over to a family photograph sitting on the nightstand beside the bed Hank looked at Cole's smiling, innocent face and felt his stomach knot with fear.
"Whatever you're trying to prove to me is not worth it. You do matter."
Cybernetically Connor tracked down the most recent reports of anti-android gang activity. Using his superior physicality to easily maneuver his way through abandoned properties, over low fences and navigate decrepit buildings, Connor stealthily crept through the dark streets in search of the dangerous suspects. Keeping his head low and footsteps light Connor was able to avoid any and all unwanted attention as he used the cover of darkness to his complete advantage. Roaming the streets through the darkness and cold all alone Connor held his head high as he focused solely on finding the dangerous gang. The concealed L.E.D. under his beanie flashed yellow in distress as he continued his search.
Clever as always Connor used deductive reasoning based on the collected evidence and witness statements regarding the anti-android gang activity and narrowed down his search to a dangerous, seldom tread neighborhood in the outskirts of the city. Due to the lack of direct evidence and proper funding to the police precincts, the ability to locate such an area had been long overlooked even during the most chaotic of incidents.
In the distance Connor could hear the sounds of loud voices speaking to one another and music with heavy bass radiating from a large car. The voices were dominantly masculine and carried an aggressive tone with their loud conversation.
"If I do this right I can eliminate the anti-android gang activity from the entire city."
Too far away to run any facial scan to possible identify any of the people in question Connor had no choice but to get closer to the unseen persons of interest.
"I'm close, I can feel it..."
Playing on a seasoned hunch Hank decided to check in at the precinct as he set about trying to figure out where Connor had gone and why the empathetic deviant was now seemingly tense about his own deviancy. Hank arrived at the Central Precinct late into the night with a slightly sleepy demeanor as he made his way to Captain Fowler's office in search of some answers. He did his best to ignore the other curious officers going about their shifts to prevent anyone from asking where Connor was at that time. Unfortunately such a feat soon proved too much to ask for since everyone knew of the deviant's near-death experience on New Year's Eve.
"Hey, Lieutenant." Gavin acknowledged Hank's return to the bullpen with an inquisitive tone as he sat behind his desk. "What the fuck are you doing here?"
"Don't worry about it." Knocking on the glass door of Captain Fowler's office after dismissing the loud-mouthed Sergeant with a curt reply, Hank opened the door and leaned his head inside without waiting for an invitation. "Jeffrey, you gotta' minute?"
"Hank?" Captain Fowler looked up from his terminal screen just as he turned the device off for the night. "What the hell are you doing here? You and Connor are still benched until you're both medically cleared. Shit, you look like you've got a cold on top of a concussion."
"Have you seen Connor?" Hank asked as he walked into the office and shut the door behind him indifferently to keep eavesdropping at a minimum. "He took off a while ago and I have no idea where he went."
"I haven't seen him. Did something happen to today?" Giving Hank his full attention Captain Fowler tried to help Hank finding the missing deviant. "I mean, aside from him talking that guy down from the bridge."
"I wish I knew. Connor's been pretty out of it since this morning." Hank noted the late time and the odd abundance of officers still working in the bullpen; the same could be said about Captain Fowler himself. "What's been going on here? I know we don't have the payroll for overtime."
Captain Fowler leaned back in his chair and motioned to the dozen officers devotedly working at their desks with a quick point of his thumb. "There was an assault downtown between the pro and anti-android gangs about five hours ago. It was a real mess. Nine people were hospitalized, four killed, thirteen deviants were damaged and six were destroyed. It was like Hell on Earth and Detroit got caught in the middle."
"Shit. I know Connor keeps tabs on reports at the precinct, maybe he's out investigating." A sickening knot formed in Hank's stomach and began to tighten with dread. "He did seem upset about the increasing violence against androids and seems to think an android's opinion doesn't matter. He may have found a lead or something."
"I doubt he'd find anything." Captain Fowler leaned forward against his desk and sighed tiredly. "There's really nothing to investigate. All of our top suspects have disappeared and we have no idea where they went. What makes you think Connor would go out in the middle of the cold dark night to check out a shitty, useless crime scene?"
"I honestly don't know. It's like he's depressed or something."
"Depressed? I didn't know machines could suffer from depression."
"What?" Hank's brow furrowed at the cold comment. Folding his arms over his chest Hank studied his captain curiously. "Seriously? Remember how torn up Connor was after Lucas was murdered?"
"Yeah, but that-"
"What?" Hank interrupted aggressively, suddenly feeling protective toward the missing deviant. "Connor lost his brother. How else would he react?"
"I don't know. I'm not exactly an expert on androids."
Though unintentional Captain Fowler's indifference to Connor's struggle to understand his emotions and existence seemed to open Hank's eyes to the deviant's plight for the first time since the Revolution. "...All this time, after everything he's been through and after everything he's done, and you still see him as a machine, don't you?"
"Well, yeah. Don't get me wrong," going into detail only seemed to make things worse for the commanding officer as he spoke. "I don't think he's inferior to anyone here, he's really proved himself to be an exceptional detective and an officer."
"But you still think of Connor as a machine first and not a detective."
"It's nothing personal."
"Yeah, sure. But you did just prove him right." Hank ran his hand over his bearded chin again as he pulled his phone from his pocket. "Son of a bitch. No wonder he feels so meaningless. The kid went out to prove something and he doesn't have to do it."
"What the hell is going on?"
"I think Connor just did something really stupid and it's all because humans are even stupider! I have to go find him before something terrible happens to that poor kid."
"Should I-"
"No." Turning his back on his commanding officer Hank made his way back to the office door and pulled it open with a firm yank that nearly broke the glass door from its hinges. "I think you've done enough for the night."
Following his instincts as a detective Connor successfully located the group of rowdy activity residing inside of an abandoned warehouse. The warehouse itself was once held automotive parts but had since been illegally renovated to act as a hideout for the anti-android gang while they laid low from the police. The modified building was in a location that anyone who valued their life would never venture making it an ideal hideout. The decrepit warehouse was also so remote and so isolated from the rest of the city that it was easily overlooked by patrolling officers and very few people roamed in the area long enough to notice anything out of the ordinary.
Loud voices shouted and even louder music blared as what sounded like a fist fight took place in the depths of the warehouse. A chorus of cheers and boos resonated throughout the building as 'thuds' and 'crashes' and the shattering of glass echoed throughout the property behind warehouse.
Using the alleyway beside and along the rear of the warehouse to keep himself hidden Connor peered through a hole between two large wooden boards propped up against a chainlink fence that connected the alley to the property. Through the boards he saw the anti-android gang members gathered in the middle of the snow and ice covered ground in a circle just behind the warehouse.
Inside the circle of onlookers two men, who were already covered in blood, were engaged in physical combat. Armed with chains, broken glass bottles and lead pipes the two men squared off against one another to finish the fight that they had started.
The fight was a gang initiation ceremony.
"...This is how they welcome human members into a gang against androids?"
Connor asked himself in a disgusted tone of voice. Looking down at his right hand he retracted the artificial skin from over his palm exposing the white plastimetal frame beneath it.
"The violence in the city has been blamed on androids, yet this how humans willingly behave for their own amusement. It isn't... fair."
A sickening 'crack' followed by a loud symphony of cheers sounded off from the fight as one of the men dropped the ground dead. The lead pipe had busted his skull open and killed him instantly with a painful blow. The body was dragged out of the circle, leaving a trail of fresh red blood behind and out of sight. The leader of the gang, an intimidating man of size and presence, grabbed onto the arm of the 'winner' and held it up in the air with an ill-gotten sense of pride as the other gang members cheered even louder.
"Deviants aren't the threat to this city."
Connor sneered as he clenched his exposed right hand into a tight fist.
"He is."
Marching around the fence and down the alleyway Connor slipped his leather jacket from his arms dropping it to the icy ground behind him as he walked. Connor set foot inside the battleground, passing through the gathered mass of gang members encircling the makeshift arena and stood before the gang's leader with an unflinching presence.
The gathered gang began whispering and laughing to one another as Connor, who wasn't necessarily a small man, approached their leader.
Connor himself was just over six feet tall and weighed barely one hundred and sixty pounds. With a build designed more for agility than strength Connor was less likely to hold his own in physical combat against other androids, let alone massive humans who were ready to break him apart. The deviant had put himself in a very dangerous position and yet he showed no sign of fear.
The gang leader was six foot four, easily two-hundred and fifty pounds of pure muscle and proudly brandished numerous scars along his knuckles that were more like medals of victory than old wounds. Anti-android symbols adorned the backs of his hands in fresh and old tattoos, and he had thick gold rings on each finger to act as a form of pricier, more discreet brass knuckles.
"What the fuck is this?" The gang leader almost laughed at Connor standing before him. "Some boy scout get lost on the way home?"
"My name is Connor." Connor reached into his jean pocket and pulled out his wallet to flash his shield and confirm his identity in what was either an incredible courageous or foolish manner. "I work for the Detroit Police department."
"Then you must be new to the job." The leader dropped the arm of his newest recruit as he pulled a gun from the back of his own jeans and aimed it at Connor's chest. "That was the biggest mistake of your life."
"I'm not here as a cop." Connor threw aside his wallet without absolute indifference behind the gesture. Putting his hand to his black beanie he began to pull it from his head to expose his yellow tinted L.E.D. for the entirety of the hate filled gangs to see. "I'm here as a deviant."
The gang began to murmur and laugh at the sight of the flickering L.E.D. in Connor's temple. The small circle of light might as well have been a bullseye.
"Then you're a DEAD deviant." The leader boasted as he pulled back the hammer of his gun. "I gotta' admit, you gotta' a lot of balls comin' out here. Why are you here anyway?"
"I want to stop the violence." Connor declared as boldly as the threat before him. Pulling off his black t-shirt Connor dropped it to the ground as he showed the still healing scar over his abdomen where he had been recently shot and revealed the faint but still visible scars on his upper back from being tortured and whipped a few months prior by a deranged former technician. "I've had enough of it and I don't want to see anyone else suffer."
"So what? You're a fuckin' cop!" Laughing at the gesture the gang leader was totally unphased by Connor's presence. "Gettin' shot is what they pay you for, you dumb piece of plastic!"
"Wrong." Connor shook his head and turned his back to the leader to show his scars courtesy of being tortured when he was nearly buried alive a few months before. "This wasn't from getting shot, this is from a misguided cowardly kid who lashed out against me." Closing his eyes Connor's yellow L.E.D. flickered rapidly as every other scar he had received during his time as a detective become visible through his choice to reveal it. "And these are from all the other cowards who tried to kill me over the past two and half years. Obviously, they've all failed."
The leader lowered his gun and gave Connor an odd look. "What the fuck are you gettin' at?"
"I want to stop the violence by any means necessary." Turning to look at the leader once more Connor stood his ground and made his claim. "I've been shot, stabbed, burned, shocked, poisoned, buried alive, tortured, drowned, frozen, broken, paralyzed, crushed, impaled, blown-up, suffocated and diseased by various people with misplaced anger and hatred." Pressing his fingertips to his now red tinted L.E.D. Connor closed his eyes and retracted his artificial skin entirely from his body exposing the full extent of his white plastimetal frame that wasn't already covered beneath his clothing. "All these attempts to end my life and I remember each one vividly. But I'm still here." The scars ran deep enough to warp his plastimetal frame where he had been previously damaged. "I'm still alive."
"You ain't alive!" The leader argued sharply with an enraged bark at the bold statement. "You're just a walkin', talkin' computer!"
The witnessing gang members had enough of Connor talking down to their leader and began to openly protest against his very presence.
"Hey, don't let that asshole talk to you like that, Rampage!"
One of the gang members taunted from the circle that had gathered around the leader, evidently named Rampage, and Connor.
"Kill that motherfucker! It fucked up the city!"
Connor didn't blink, didn't flinch at the threats. "If you think you can kill me, then go ahead and try. One of your members tried to kill me by slitting my throat, another tried to beat me to death with a baseball bat and a third tried to shoot me and leave me for dead. All of them have failed. Can you do any better?"
"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Rampage was thoroughly confused by Connor's arrival and what seemed to be an open invitation to end his life. "You wanna' die or something?"
"I can't die if I'm not alive." Connor held up his exposed right hand as if Rampage couldn't already see that he was an android. "I'm just a machine, right?"
"What the fuck, man!?" Not expecting any form of confrontation from a deviant had thrown Rampage for a loop. "This shit is weird!"
"You watched a human die tonight and you didn't care." Motioning to the fresh red blood on the melted snow between himself and Rampage, the fearless deviant challenged Rampage's morals and his conviction to removing the supposed 'android menace' in the city. "What difference would there be if you broke one machine?"
Rampage lowered his gun with a sense of interest and tossed it to one of the gang members standing nearby. "You know what, I like you. You're a fuckin' piece of plastic with an attitude. I like that. It's different."
"I'm also the 'piece of plastic' assigned to bring this gang down. I found you and I succeeded." Connor reminded Rampage with a cold tone rivaled only by the snow that swirled around him as the late night became increasingly darker. "I could've easily contacted the precinct and had this entire area swarmed with police and drones long before anyone here could've escaped. But I didn't."
Rampage was giving Connor an odd glance. If Connor didn't know any better he might've called it 'respect'. "Right, so what do you want? To negotiate or some other bullshit?"
The gang laughed at the comment while Connor held his ground.
"No. I want to put everything I have on the line to stop this pointless violence once and for all."
"All right, you have my attention." Rampage extended his arms outward as if inviting a direct confrontation. "I'm listenin'."
"If you can break me then you'll have your run over the city. I'll be gone and my partner will be taken off the case due to a bias and personal connections to my destruction. You'll be in total control of the city without anyone working the case to get in the way."
"Sounds good to me."
"But if I survive, if I'm still standing after you try to kill me and you're left exhausted and covered in blood, then you must surrender and disband your gang. No resistance, no questions, no running away."
The entire gang laughed again as Rampage remained stoic. "And you seriously think I'd just willingly turn myself in? Like I'd just walk into the precinct and hold out my hands to the nearest pig so I can be arrested?"
"I think you're a man of your word."
Something about Connor's tone, something about the way he carried himself, had a profound impact on Rampage as he contemplated Connor's offer. There was something about the passion in Connor's words that had a deep impact on Rampage's perception of androids as a whole. It was as if he was speaking to someone who everything and nothing on the line at the same time and was willing to risk it all for the sake of other people.
"You have nothing to lose and everything to gain." Connor reaffirmed as he held true to his offer. "Even if I survive the fight there's no way your gang would allow me to live and tell the tale. I'd be hunted down, torn apart and left for death while you're behind bars. Either way, you will only gain fortune and I'll be gone."
"All right, you're on." Rampage nodded his head and took a step back as he took off his own blood splattered shirt revealing the bulk of strong muscle that gave his already intimidating presence an entirely new threat. There were additional tattoos over his chest and shoulders that were dedicated to his family and as such contrasted sharply against the hate filled ink on his hands and arms. "What's the time limit?"
Connor calculated the odds of his survival if Rampage were to unleash his full strength onto his leaner, plastimetal frame. He wouldn't be able to last long, a rough estimation of only six minutes and fifty-three seconds, before the blunt force trauma ruptured his internal biocomponents or tore loose main Thirium lines running throughout his body. If the other gang members got involved and assisted in the beating then Connor would shutdown within seconds, not minutes.
The time was arguably incalculable.
"The time limit is when you get tired." Connor declared confidently as he pushed away any instinct of self preservation he had gained during his deviancy. Now wasn't the time to back down, now was the time to step up. "It's all up to you."
The gang fell into a hushed crowd of confused silence at Connor's statement. Never before had an android, let alone a deviant or a even a cop, confronted the gang directly and put their life on the line for the sake of respect and protection of a city that didn't care about him or the other deviants.
"Sounds good to me..." Rampage accepted the offer and proceeded to pull the switchblade from his pocket and throw it to the same gang member who had already caught his gun from earlier. "Let's do this. No weapons, just raw strength."
Connor nodded and held up his right forearm to block the swinging fist of the first incoming punch from Rampage's left hand and managed to hold him back. The effort was swift and accurate with just enough strength to stop the strike, but not enough to deter Rampage from continuing the impending beating.
"You're quick. And you're going to put up a fight." Rampage nodded as well before he fiercely headbutted Connor's face causing blue blood to drip from the deviant's nose in the process. The red L.E.D. flashed rapidly in response to the pain and drastic impact. "I like that..."
Stunned but not deterred Connor spit the blood from his upper lip onto the ground and glared at the gang member without any fear in his piercing gaze.
"This is going to be a good time."
Impatient and worried for Connor's safety as both a detective and a father, Hank drove along the icy streets of the dark city slowly and meticulously as he eyed his phone warily on the dashboard in front of him. The app that Joel had created to visually display Connor's vital signs had a limited range that could only work within twelve feet of the deviant, but it was all Hank had as a means of tracking him down since deviants no longer had active trackers functioning in their software. It wasn't much of a lead but it would have to suffice until Hank found an more effective way to locate the missing deviant before anything terrible happened to Connor.
The radio on the seat beside Hank crackled to life randomly as sporadic reports of break-ins or car accidents filled the air courtesy of dispatch. There was virtually no continuing reports on deviant related crimes or gang activity which would normally give Hank a moment of reprieve, but not on this snowy cold night.
"Damn it, kid."
Hank swore again as he turned down a seedier street in search of the missing deviant. Snow began to fall in thicker flakes and the temperature dropped another five degrees below freezing temperatures.
"Where did you go?"
The battery on Hank's phone reached a staggeringly low five percent and the active app turned itself off automatically.
"Shit! Not now!"
Hank swore as he snatched the phone from the dashboard and pocketed the now useless item angrily. Rolling down his window Hank chose to rely on his own natural instincts and intuition over technology as he continued his search for Connor.
"You better be okay, kid. If anything happened to you I'll never forgive myself."
Covered in his own lost Thirium Connor fell to the frozen, icy ground on his chest and immediately let out a pained cough as he spit out a mouthful of dark blue blood all over the partially melted snow. Laying on the painfully cold, hard ground Connor heard the 'boos' and 'jeers' of the witnessing crowd all around him as Rampage loomed over him menacingly. The vicious gang leader was waiting for the deviant to either get back up or to roll over and die. Unwilling to give up and stop fighting Connor lifted his head and stared up at Rampage through his blurring vision as he dismissed the numerous red warnings informing him of the damage his body had sustained.
Thirium dripped from Connor's right eye where his optical unit had been fractured from a severe blow, his eyelid partially closed due to the swelling damage. Dark blue blood stained Connor's nose and over his lips as Thirium continued to drip down his face. Fractures in the frame along his eyes and jawline seeped Thirium from damaged lines while small flickers of sparking wires illuminated the imperfections with a pale blue light.
"You had enough?" Rampage taunted as he strutted arrogantly around the downed deviant. "C'mon. You talk a big game, don't let me down now."
Rolling to his right side Connor winced in pain as fractures along the left side of his chest, marking every place a rib would be located in a human's ribcage, wept blue blood and sparked in blue within each agonizing crack of the plastimetal frame. Pushing himself up from the ground on his trembling, fractured arms covered in his own blood, Connor forced himself to stand up on his shaking damaged legs and turn to face Rampage once more.
"...What's wrong? Tired already?" Connor asked as he wiped the blood from his lip onto the back of his hand as he looked Rampage in the eyes. "Humans always were more fragile than machines. It's a shame since you claim to be the superior species."
"You gotta' smart mouth." Rampage shook his head a little as he gave Connor a slightly amused smirk. "You're going to regret saying that."
"My words only seem smart because your entire view on life is so limited and foolish."
"Oh, ho... You got one hell of a fighting spirit, I'll give ya' that!"
Grabbing onto the back of Connor's neck Rampage held the deviant in place as he used his other fist to repeatedly punch Connor directly in the center of his chest causing the deviant to gasp for breath as each painful punch knocked the wind from his artificial lungs. A puddle of Thirium began to collect on the ground as it poured from Connor's numerous opened wounds all over his body. Rampage's knuckles were just as blue as the snowy, blood stained ground as he repeatedly struck Connor with his fists causing the battered deviant's body to collapse to the icy surface once again.
Laying on his chest in utter pain Connor dismissed the numerous warnings about his internal hemorrhaging from his damaged Thirium lines and his compromised ventilation biocomponents due to the severe blows. Lifting his head up from the ground Connor, slack-jawed and bleeding, looked at Rampage standing over him.
"How 'bout now?" Rampage asked as he panted for his own breath. "Ready to die?"
Putting his hands down against the ground Connor pushed himself up on his shaking arms and his knees before rising back up slowly, trembling violently, onto his feet. "I'm... I'm still standing." Connor remarked confidently as blood trailed down his chin and dripped down onto his chest. "You haven't won."
Rampage reeled his fist back once again and punched Connor's right eye for the second time causing the already partially shut eyelid to close entirely from the building damage. Falling to his knees Connor dismissed yet another warning as he felt his head begin to throb and ache from the numerous strikes he had already endured. Spitting out another mouthful of blood Connor forced himself to stand up, the effort taking more and more strength with each attempt after being knocked down.
"Shit, man." Rampage watched as Connor bravely stood his ground and tried to steady himself on his trembling legs. "What the fuck are you fighting for?"
Connor thought about the question for a moment before he answered. Even when he did reply the gang leader was just as confused. "...I don't know."
Rampage raised his right fist and wrapped his left hand around Connor's throat. "You don't know? What the fuck kind of android are you?"
"...I don't know that either."
"Hold up." Absentmindedly his hand's grip around Connor's throat loosened slightly. "You challenge me to a fight, putting your life on the line and you don't even know what it's all about?"
"No."
"But you're still fighting back."
"I'm... I'm sure there's still something worth fighting for in this city, maybe even someone worth fighting for." Connor blinked his one good eye as he felt his strength ebbing away. His voice began to waver and reverberate with an electronic echo as his consciousness began to fail him. "...My colleagues. My friends. My family."
"What the fuck kind of family does a machine have?"
"I-I used to have... a brother. He was... murdered." Connor was still bleeding and losing strength quickly as darkness encroached over his vision. "But I... still have my... father."
Rampage released his grip entirely from around Connor's throat causing the deviant to collapse to the ground with heavy 'thud'. Falling backward and laying partially on his back and his left side, blue blood puddled under Connor's body and collected like in a sapphire blossom all around the broken deviant.
One of the gang members whistled and threw Rampage his gun. "Finish it off, Rampage! Blow that fucker away!"
Rampage caught his gun and pointed the barrel down between Connor's eyes without hesitation. "Deal's a deal, plastic. You're down. I win."
As Rampage's thumb pulled back the hammer and his finger hovered over the trigger a gruff voice from behind caused Rampage to freeze.
"DETROIT POLICE. DROP THE WEAPON." Hank approached the gang leader from behind with his own gun drawn and aimed at the back of Rampage's head. Any sign of sickness that Hank may have been exhibiting from his cold had been perfectly masked behind an authoritative tone of voice. "BACK AWAY FROM HIM. NOW."
Rampage dropped the gun and raised his hands slowly as he took a few steps back and to the side away from Connor. Motioning silently Rampage ordered his surrounding gang to flee from the hideout while he stayed behind to give them the chance to flee.
"I already called for back-up." Hank stated fearlessly as he focused on Connor and not the gang members retreating into the darkness. "You won't get far."
Despite Hank's warning the gang dispersed rapidly into the night in a desperate bid to avoid being arrested.
"Connor?" Hank knelt down on the ground beside Connor and slipped his hand beneath the deviant's head and studied the slowly blinking red tinted L.E.D. in his temple. The sight of the bleeding fractures all over Connor's body was enough to make Hank's own blood boil. "Wake up, kid! Don't do this to me!" Without the artificial skin to hold thin Thirium lines against the external frame Hank couldn't find a pulse but he could still check for a heartbeat. Pressing his ear down against Connor's broken, bleeding chest Hank held his own breath as he heard the slow, steady rhythm of the beating of Connor's Thirium pump, his heart, within the battered and bleeding chest. "Hang on for me, I'll get you some help."
"You know this thing?" Rampage asked as he remained where he stood, almost fascinated by what he was seeing. "Is it police property?"
Hank turned around abruptly and aimed his gun at Rampage's chest as he planted himself between the gang leader and Connor laying on the ground behind him. "He's my son."
That response was almost as shocking as Connor's previous comments. "...Your son?"
Hank raised his gun from Rampage's chest to his head. "You gotta' problem with that?"
"Nah, man. I got a son, too." The revelation somehow made Rampage seem less cruel. He pointed to a name tattooed on his chest right over his heart and held his hand there for a moment. "I get it. I'd do anything to protect my boy, too."
The reply wasn't one that Hank had expected. Lowering his gun entirely Hank motioned for Rampage to turn around as he pulled the cuffs from his belt and cuffed Rampage's hands behind his back. "What the fuck happened out here?"
"He came out here lookin' for a fight." Calling Connor a 'he' and not 'it' or 'plastic' showed that Rampage had his eyes opened by that night's events. "I just accepted."
"Bullshit!"
"Ask him yourself." Rampage turned around and watched as Hank returned to Connor's side and shrugged off his coat to drape it over Connor's broken body. The white plastimetal frame was covered in bloodied fractures that required immediate technical attention and looked horrifically painful to endure. "That guy's got a lot of heart for a machine."
"He's NOT a machine!" Hank argued as he pressed his hand down against the center of Connor's chest to track his heartbeat. "He's-"
A sharp coughing stopped Hank short as Connor regained consciousness and opened his one good eye. Focusing on Hank leaning over him for only a moment Connor shifted his gaze away to look at Rampage still standing, still waiting for the fight to continue. Sitting up slowly Connor pushed aside Hank's hand and the coat as he used the last of his strength to stand back up for the final time.
"Connor, no!" Hank tried to keep the deviant down but Connor stubbornly refused to comply. "Lay down, damn it! You're-"
"I-I'm..." Connor's voice was stammering and thick with static as he addressed Rampage courageously. Standing before the arrested gang member Connor looked him right in the eye and forced his voice to level out. "I'm st-still standing."
"Yeah." Rampage smiled a little at the comment as a newfound respect was forged between himself and the deviant detective. "You are. You win, Connor."
Hank's brow furrowed with utter confusion at the exchange of words between Connor and Rampage. Before he had the chance to ask anything Connor nodded subtly to show his own newfound respect and slowly walked away from the fight; his blood stained white plastimetal frame slowly being covered under his pale and scarred artificial skin as he walked away. The artificial skin had such little power due to the tremendous blood loss and had left Connor sporting a paler complexion as the plastimetal frame was still somewhat visible through the slightly translucent layer.
"Fuck..." Confused and shaken Hank swore in a breathy whisper as the regenerating skin also emphasized the horrific beating that the deviant had willingly subjected himself to. "Connor, what the hell is wrong with you?"
Rampage turned to watch the deviant walking away from the fight and gave Hank an odd look. "You said he's your son and he said he had a family to fight for. Guess that means he was fighting for you."
Hank bitterly ignored Rampage as a squad car pulled up to the scene to assist Hank with the arrest. Another officer would have to deal with Rampage at the moment as Hank still needed to deal with Connor. The senior detective needed to figure out what the hell was wrong with the deviant before it escalated into something that was a hell of a lot worse than a wagered street fight.
Weak, tired and in nearly debilitating pain, Connor sluggishly limped down the cold dark sidewalk with his arms wrapped protectively around his bruised, battered chest as the stinging cold threatened to slice through his already thin skin like a knife. Wandering with an aimless trajectory into the darkness of the surrounding city, Connor was only just aware of a car pulling up along the sidewalk beside him and stopping abruptly. He hadn't summoned an autonomous taxi and no one had known he had been in the neighborhood. As far as Connor was concerned the car that had stopped beside him was filled with anti-android gang members who were there to finish him off.
Waiting for the gunshots to ring out and for bullets to tear through his body, Connor closed his eyes as he continued to walk down the dark sidewalk to a place unknown.
"Connor!" Hank threw open his car door and rushed over to the deviant on the sidewalk. Wrapping Connor's previously abandoned leather jacket around his trembling shoulders Hank held Connor in place for a moment. "Damn it, what the fuck were you THINKING?!"
Freezing in place Connor remained quiet and didn't have the nerve to look Hank in the eyes. Having been yelled at by Hank when he was still a machine had no effect on Connor's mind or confidence, but now hearing Hank yelling at him as a deviant had an unexpected effect on his psyche. Unable to respond, almost afraid to speak, Connor stayed silent and waited for Hank to finish reprimanding him.
"Get your ass in the car!" Hank pushed Connor from the sidewalk and over to the passenger side of the car. Pulling open the door Hank forced the deviant to sit down and didn't even wait for a response before slamming the door shut. As soon as Hank returned to his own seat behind the wheel he pulled the car away from the sidewalk and headed toward home. "Connor, what's going on with you? What were you trying to prove by getting a FIGHT?"
Silence remained Connor's steadfast reply as he coldly stared at the floor of the car beneath his feet.
Still shaking with fear, adrenaline and anger Hank looked over at Connor and could see the emotional pain on his face just as easily as he could see the physical pain. Connor was confused, he was scared and he was at a total loss of what he had just been through.
The blue blood dripped from Connor's nose and lips and onto his lap. The other wounds bled profusely and stained into the fabric of the leather jacket and Connor's already waning strength began fading away at a frightening pace.
"Look, son," Hank softened his tone and took a deep breath to calm himself. "I'm not mad at you, okay? I was just... freaked out. You disappeared without a trace and when I find you it's in a dangerous neighborhood, you're covered in your own blood and surrounded by anti-android gang members. What the hell happened tonight?"
Unwilling to speak up because of a strange emotional reason that Connor couldn't comprehend he sat quietly as Hank drove away from the dangerous neighborhood and to the nearest facility.
"Talk to me, damn it! I don't want to have a technician tell me something secondhand."
"...No technician." Connor finally stated as he continued to stare blankly at the floor beneath his feet. His voice was reverberating with an electronic echo and sounded painful just to speak. "Please."
"You're damaged." The bleeding fractures along Connor's arms and all down his chest had created spreading bruises under his artificial skin that would take days to heal. "You need help."
"I'm fine."
Hank gently stopped the car and pulled up alongside the sidewalk in an abrupt jerk. Turning off the engine he turned and looked at the stubborn deviant with a paternal stare. "What's the matter, son?"
"I don't..." Trailing off for a moment Connor closed his eyes and refused to look at Hank. "I don't know."
"Yes you do."
Connor resumed his silence as he found himself at a total loss for words.
"Okay, okay. I won't push you." Turning over the engine again Hank pulled the car back onto the street to head for home. "But we are going to talk about this later."
Accepting what Hank had said without saying a word himself, Connor busied himself chronicling his numerous injuries cybernetically and focused his self healing program accordingly. The drive back to the house remained stubbornly silent save for Hank's occasional weak cough or attempt to clear some building congestion from his throat. The silence, however, would be missed as soon as the two detectives were back home.
It wasn't until Hank got a clear look at Connor's swollen, bruised, bleeding face in proper lighting in the middle of the kitchen that his anger resurfaced.
"Look at me." Gently Hank put his hand under Connor's blood stained chin and tilted the deviant's head gingerly as he inspected the damage. The sight of Connor's practically destroyed right eye made a sense of rage well up inside of him. "Why in the hell would you let him do that to you?!"
Connor darted his one good eye away from Hank with unexplainable guilt.
"Answer me." Hank let go of Connor's chin and took a step backward in frustration as the deviant remained painfully quiet. "I can't help you if you don't talk to me."
"...What does it matter?" Connor finally replied with a dreary somber voice. "I'm a machine. I can be replaced by another model."
"Wrong. Nothing can replace you."
"Yes it can. If I were to die tonight nothing in this world would change. I'd just be another broken machine left to rust in a junkyard."
"Wait, are you... Is this an existential crisis?"
"Admit it. I'm nothing more than a tool at the precinct and someone for you to talk to at home. No one sees me as me." Staring down at his shaking right hand Connor clenched it into a tight fist and sighed. "I am... no one. I'm nothing."
"Hold it! Where in the hell did THAT come from?"
"No one listens to me. Sometimes it's like no one... hears me."
"You know something?" The revelation struck a chord with the senior detective. He turned around slowly as he reached into the freezer to get a bag of ice and gently pressed the bag against Connor's right eye. With a heavy heart Hank reluctantly admitted that Connor was right. "I didn't notice it until tonight, but you're right. But you're also wrong."
The deviant looked at Hank with confusion and pain in his good eye. "...I don't understand."
"Tonight I went to look for you and I checked at the precinct first. No one saw you and when I was talking with Fowler he admitted that had a bad habit of thinking of you as a machine before seeing you as a detective. But that doesn't mean everyone does."
Connor just stared at Hank through his one good eye as he put his hand over the offered bag of ice and began pressing it against his sore right eye himself.
"I don't see you like that." Dropping his hand from the ice Hank stared at the deviant with a sincere understanding. "Connor, you're not a machine. You are alive, you really are." Hank tried to give Connor a reassuring grin but the gesture felt hollow. "You're more human than most humans; empathetic, sympathetic, kind, generous, patient, brave, annoyingly curious sometimes and a little naive. But most importantly you're STUBBORN. And there's nothing you can say to change my mind about that."
Ignoring the hypocrisy of Hank's comment about stubbornness Connor pressed the matter at hand a little further. "Then why don't you listen to me?"
"Simple. I don't listen to ANYBODY." Hank shrugged his shoulders a little as he spoke in a lighthearted manner. "Never have. Doubt I ever will. I just don't like to be told what to do and I don't like people giving me their advice. Kinda' like you..."
Connor was still unconvinced. "Your own personality is a poor mirror if you're attempting to reflect my own."
"And you can be a smartass. There's more proof of your humanity, proof that you're alive and can really feel."
"I don't feel human."
"You look human, you sound human and you act human."
"I'm not human and I never can be. No matter how many times you say it I'll always be a machine." A strange sense of despair welled up from within his heart as he stared at the senior detective standing before him. "And no matter how many times I want to believe it or how many times you say it, I can never really be your son."
"Bullshit." Refusing to left Connor tear apart everything he had earned Hank reminded Connor of what made them a family. "The color of your blood doesn't dictate how I see you and how I want you to be a part of my life. You're my son, end of story."
"...I'm just plastic and metal." Holding up his hand where his artificial skin was struggling to fully regenerate Connor just stared at his appendage with dismay. "Just look at this. I'm not human and I never will be."
"That doesn't matter. You're still my son and nothing will ever make me see things differently." Hank stifled a weak cough as he sat down at the small kitchen table and motioned for Connor to do the same. "When I saw you laying unconscious in a puddle of your own blood with that guy pointing his gun at your head I was as fuckin' scared as I was the night I lost Cole."
"...I don't understand." Connor's brow furrowed a little as he slowly sat down at the table next to Hank, a smear of blue blood was left on the floor where he had been standing as it dripped from his person. "When you saw me I didn't have my artificial skin activated."
"Yeah, so what?"
"You've never seen me without my artificial skin before. At least, not entirely."
"Yeeah?" Hank dragged out the word to emphasize his confusion. "What about it?"
"And you still recognized me?"
"Obviously."
"I... I don't understand. How did you know it was me? How did you know that it wasn't me and not another deviant?"
"Like I said Connor, you're my son." Hank raised his hand to peel back the ice from Connor's face just enough to look at Connor's poor eye with a painfully empathetic glance. "A father always knows his own son."
As if a dam had burst Connor felt tears stream down his face causing him to put his hand over his eyes as he pressed his forehead into his palm and leaned his elbow atop the kitchen table. What felt like a massive weight in his heart suddenly lifted away allowing it to beat without any strain or pressure as he began to feel something beyond self-loathing or doubt.
"...I'm sorry!"
"It's okay, kid." Hank put his hand to the deviant's shoulder as Connor began to silently sob with heavy emotion that he had been restraining for far too long. "We all have our emotional breaking point. I reached mine the night I lost Cole and I refused to acknowledge any emotion outside of anger for three damn years before I met you. Trust me, I'm an expert on emotional problems!"
"I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"
The violent trembling under his palm made Hank wince. "For what?"
"For running off!" Connor took a deep breath to try to calm himself down but the effort was seemingly in vain as his voice continued to shudder. "For being mad at you! For putting myself in danger! For being a bad son!"
"Whoa, easy... You're NOT a bad son." Hank sincerely soothed as he shook Connor's shoulder lightly. "It's okay. We all make mistakes, it's apart of being human. Shit, that's WHY the whole world is so fucked up. Humans are still in charge and we're still making mistakes."
"...I wish I knew what to do." Connor admitted sadly as he fought back his tears just long enough to speak more clearly. "I've tried so hard to understand deviancy, to understand what it means to be alive, but... I just feel like I'm falling behind while everyone around me is moving forward."
"You can't keep comparing yourself to other deviants. You're NOT like them and you never will be. You're your own person."
"What kind of person am I? What kind of person should I strive to become?"
"That..." The question made Hank sigh a little and he gave Connor an odd smile. "That's completely up to you. But if you want my opinion-"
"Yes." Connor answer quickly as he locked his good eye onto Hank. "Please!"
"I think you're already on the right track. Like I told you before, you're more human than most humans, and you're a GOOD one at that. Better than most of the humans I work with."
"I don't feel good." Connor admitted as he gently put his hand to his stomach as a knot settled inside his battered torso. His red tinted L.E.D. began to blink rapidly in response to his artificial stomach beginning to initiate the emergency expulsion program. "...I don't feel good at all in every sense of the word."
"Sick?"
Connor nodded to confirm Hank's question as the ice bag was left on the table and the bloody coat fell from his shoulders.
"Well, that makes two of us." Moving swiftly Hank rose from the table and pulled Connor up by his arm to lead the deviant to the bathroom just a few feet down the hallway. "Come on, let's get you cleaned up and bandaged up so you can rest."
"...What about you?" Connor asked weakly as he fought back the urge to throw-up the excess Thirium that collected in his artificial stomach. "You still have a cold and your exposure to the snowy weather will only exasperate your current condition."
"Remember what I said about a bullet wound being more serious than a cold?" Hank asked as he pushed open the bathroom door and guided Connor down to the floor slowly to kneel in front of the toilet. "How a bullet wound will always outweigh a cold?"
"Y-Yes." Connor replied as he knelt down and began to retch painfully as the effort strained his damaged chest and torso in the process of the painful but necessary act. "...I remember."
"Same principle applies to getting in a street fight." The senior detective joked as he waited for Connor to finish being sick. Keeping a hand on Connor's back Hank held him as steady as possible until the vomiting spell passed. The sight of the faint scars under his palm made Hank want to throw-up as well, but for Connor's sake he stayed strong. "Are you sure you don't want to go see a technician? You're in pretty rough shape."
Connor nodded weakly as he spat out the lingering foul Thirium from his mouth with a heavy grimace.
"All right. Now, hold still." Placing a washcloth under the warm tap in the sink Hank wrung out the excess water and used it to wipe the lingering blue blood from Connor's patchy skin and clean out the exposed fractures in the plastimetal frame. "This is probably going to sting."
As soon as the warmed fabric made contact with the raw wounds in his back Connor physically tensed and let out a hissing groan of pain.
"Sorry."
"...N-Not your fault."
"If I go and get some gauze can you clean up your injuries yourself?"
Nodding again Connor took the washcloth and proceeded to cleanse off the rest of his artificial skin in a slow meticulous manner. "...Yes. I can do this."
"Okay. Sit tight."
With a hearty pat to the shoulder Hank stepped out of the bathroom to retrieve the larger android first aid kit stored in the hallway closet as they'd need a lot of bandages and incrassation compound. As he carried the plastic box back into the bathroom he watched Connor struggling to tend to his wounds without wincing in the process as the numerous fractures and bleeding lines were raw from the fight.
"Maybe a cool washcloth would feel better?"
"...It won't make a difference."
"Stay kneeling on the floor but straighten up your posture."
Obediently Connor did as he was instructed and remained perfectly still as Hank wrapped the gauze around his chest and worked his way down to the deviant's abdomen. It was a slow process but beneficial to Connor's body and to Hank's mind. The bandages would help absorb any residual blood and give Connor's destabilized plastimetal frame some external support and keep the fractures from widening before the deviant's self healing program could repair the damage
Once the protective bandages were in place Hank placed another washcloth under the cold tap and then pressed it slowly against Connor's eye. "Hold that there. It just hurts to look at."
Connor's hand reached up and held the washcloth firmly against his damaged eye. "I feel very tired."
"Me too. Good thing it's not my first time wrapping up another cop's busted ribs." Cautiously the senior detective watched as Connor's good eye struggled to remain open as the deviant fought to coordinate his self healing program. Rest mode would have to wait for a while longer. "Are you completely sure you don't want to go to a facility?" Stifling a small cough Hank cleared his throat and ignored his cold for the sake of Connor's condition. "I don't mind driving."
"I'll be okay."
"Yeah, I know you will." Hank smiled warmly as sat down on the floor next to Connor, his back pressing up against the side of the cool bathtub and put his hand to the deviant's shaking shoulder. "We both will."
Falling from his knees and backward onto the floor, Connor sat beside Hank and wrapped his arms around his bandaged but still sore abdomen and chest in a protective manner. "...Hank?"
"Yeah?"
"Thank you for coming after me."
"You're welcome, son." Wrapping his arm around Connor's shoulders Hank gently pulled the wounded deviant over against his side for a half hug as the two breathed a collective sigh of relief. "I'll always find a way to bring you back home if you need me. That's what fathers do."
-next chapter-