Holding their heads up high Connor and Hank had confidently resumed their usual routine at the precinct after enduring an oddly brutally cold winter full of unexpected circumstances that had pushed the two detectives nearly to their breaking points physically, emotionally and mentally. With the anti-android gang finally disbanded, the gang leader behind bars and the former gang members now either off the streets or out of the city, the number of deviant cases that the two detectives were assigned had declined to a wonderfully record low number since the peaceful and historic Revolution. There were no further assaults, threats or murders of deviants at the hands of the bigoted and violent humans.

The early Michigan winter had fortunately given way to an early spring and the city was quickly warming up allowing the people to finally emerge from their homes after the streets mercifully thawed out. As the green life of nature steadily returned to the city in tiny green buds poking through the snow and ice, the reports of violence declined and the city as a whole truly felt much warmer than it ever had been in decades.

Sumo was still lethargic but he was moving around easier as the warmer weather showed mercy on his arthritic joints. Laying down on the floor of the garage the massive fluffy dog watched his two masters working together on the old Corvette, slowly but surely, restoring life to the aged vehicle one day at a time.

Connor watched Sumo curiously as the older dog was behaving less and less like his usual self and was getting worried for Sumo's health. "I'm surprised Sumo isn't walking around more now that the cold has dissipated."

"It may be warmer but that doesn't mean he still isn't a little sore. Arthritis never really goes away." Hank rolled out from beneath the raised body of the Corvette with grease smeared on his hands and his face and a red rag collecting whatever bits of black sludge he wiped off from his palms. "All right, let's see how that works now."

"Right." Connor was already hovering over the newly restored engine in the popped hood of the car ready to check their work. Ever attentive he began running a cybernetic scan of the mechanical components to ensure that the everything in the engine was properly connected, lubricated, capped and compatible. "The oil drain plug appears to be holding."

"Good. One less thing to worry about." Standing upright Hank leaned backward a little to work out a tight knot in his back and stretch his tired muscles to prevent a cramp from setting in. "When's that new starter supposed to get here?"

Connor's blue L.E.D. flashed to yellow as he cybernetically sought an update on the incoming package. "It should arrive at six in the evening four days from now."

"Shit, we're on a roll! I hate to stop working for so long because one part is taking its sweet time gettin' here."

"Maybe you can spend that time deciding on the final color."

"Uh-huh, I can tell you right now the car is NOT going to be green!"

"Red would attract unwanted attention."

"No such thing as 'unwanted attention' with a Corvette, son." Hank handed the rag over to Connor whose hands were just as greasy as his own had been and watched the deviant wipe off his palms. "Get yourself cleaned up. Fowler wants to talk to us about our casework in about an hour."

"Do you think he'll assign us new partners?" Connor asked timidly as he wiped off his hands and tossed the rag on the workbench behind him. "Our division is small and might need expansion."

"I don't know. I don't think Fowler would risk assigning you with a new partner just yet."

"Because I'm a deviant?"

"Yup. And I don't play well with others." Hank joked casually as he patted his leg to call Sumo to his side. The dog moved over very slowly and limped after Hank with his tail hanging low with zero energy. "I wouldn't worry too much about it. We're probably just going to get assigned to homicide now that deviant cases are finally cooling down."

Connor nodded in agreement as he passed through the garage door alongside Hank. Patting Sumo's head in the process before walking into the house through the backdoor to change out of his dirty casual clothes and into his uniform, he praised the gentle giant before disappearing back into the house. "Good boy, Sumo."

Staying just outside the backdoor Hank sighed and looked down at Sumo standing still beside his leg. Pressing his own hand to the back of Sumo's head Hank rubbed at the dog's ears with great affection that elicited a weak wag of the tail in response.

"I know how you feel, boy."

As the large lovable dog let out a small whimper Hank felt his heart ache a little.

"I swear I won't let you suffer. Even if hurts me I'll make sure you don't hurt when it's time to say 'goodbye'."

Professionally and diligently Connor sat behind his terminal and chronicled the numerous unsolved homicide case files that he and Hank had been reassigned in the aftermath of the decline in deviant cases. Hank had the 'honor' of painstakingly finishing the transferring if the deviant cases that had previously been the sole responsibility between the two detectives over to archives to be organized and assigned to other officers. Having worked for over two years on the deviant cases had given the duo an impressive caseload to deal with, but more impressively, all but four of the one-hundred and sixteen deviant cases had been left unsolved.

Four cold cases was an impressive low for any division to have. But for one deviant such a number was still high. It was practically guaranteed that in his spare time Connor would continue to assess the cold cases in an attempt to close them once and for all.

"It may seem like a lot right now," Hank stated without looking away from his own terminal screen as he spoke to Connor. "but trust me, homicide is better than narcotics."

"Murder is comparatively better than drugs?"

"You don't have to worry about going undercover in homicide, and you're less likely to get jumped by some cracked out junkie while working a scene." The senior detective sighed a little and rubbed a hand over his already tired eyes as he continued to file his reports. "The only down side is telling loved ones about the deaths that come from the numerous overdoses or suicide when it comes to investigating potential homicides."

Connor nodded a little in agreement with the sentiment and silently continued his own share of the caseload.

Moving quickly Chris walked over to Hank's desk and placed a tablet down for the Lieutenant to view. "Hey guys, one more deviant case for you two to handle."

"What's the point in reassigning us if we're still working deviant cases?" Hank righteously asked as he picked up the tablet, read the information then handed it over to Connor to view. "If we're going to be working two divisions then we want twice the pay!"

Inquisitively Connor's L.E.D. flashed from blue to yellow as he read the information and confirmed the address contained in the report. "This is very unusual."

"A deviant suicide does seem really weird." The more seasoned detective agreed as he turned off his terminal and pulled his car keys from his pocket. "What would cause that?"

"Extreme emotional distress or pain." Connor's yellow L.E.D. briefly flashed to red as he remembered the night of the Revolution where he was forced to escape the icy wasteland of the Zen Garden before CyberLife forced him to kill Markus or turn the gun on himself. Suicide wasn't beyond the scope of possibility for deviants when things became desperate. "Deviants can suffer from suicidal tendencies just as easily as humans."

"'Suffer'." The senior detective repeated the horrible word to himself only to see the sorrowful stare in Connor's soulful brown eyes. "You okay, kid?"

"Yes." Connor answered quickly as he rose from his chair and forced his L.E.D. to cycle back to blue after reading over the details. "We've just never handled a deviant suicide before. And... it's at my old apartment complex."

"Yeah. I noticed." A knot formed in Hank's stomach as he realized the last time Connor had been in the apartment complex was the night Lucas had been murdered. Connor never went back and had shown no interest in ever returning to his old apartment. "Unfortunately, there's a first time for everything, kid."

The third floor apartment of the deceased deviant was as perfectly organized and logically laid out as any museum. Living alone and working as a mechanic, the shutdown deviant seemed to live a quiet reserved life without a single misfortune to his name. To see the victim of the suspected suicide kneeling in a puddle of his own blue blood on the floor of his livingroom with a seemingly self inflicted bullet wound in his right temple and seeing the offending gun clutched weakly in his right hand, was eerie to say the least. The appearance of the deviant's death was almost human in nature and completely unsettling to everyone who had entered the apartment.

Remaining professional Connor crouched down in front of the deviant and ran a scan to confirm his identity and the subsequent cause of death. By all account the claim of suicide was in fact accurate.

"His name was 'Michael'. He was a mechanic at a garage during the weekdays and worked security at parking garages on the weekends. Single gunshot wound to the right temple." Connor noted the damage externally and internally. "Shutdown was immediate."

Hank strolled about the apartment curiously and looked at the few humble possessions that the victim had owned during his lifetime. A few paintings that one would find in the hallways at a hotel covered the walls of the livingroom, there was a single chair and small couch against the far wall, one table in front of the couch, one lamp in the far corner and the kitchenette was entirely empty. The bedroom down the hallway had a single bed that looked like it was never used and the bedroom closet was full of perfectly washed pressed clothes despite working as a mechanic and a security guard.

No photographs of friends, no sign of hobbies or secondary interests and no sign of a break-in. It was as if no one ever lived in the apartment despite the name on the lease saying otherwise.

"I have no idea what we should be looking for." The senior detective admitted as he rejoined Connor in the livingroom. "Most humans who commit suicide seem the happiest when they 'do the deed', I don't imagine a deviant would behave much differently."

"Agreed." Connor stared at Michael's blank face as if he were trying to solve a puzzle without all of the pieces. As his eyes trailed over the deviant's face Connor noticed something unusual around the victim's throat and took a closer look. "Hank?"

"Yeah?"

Connor pulled open the top button of the victim's dark gray button-up shirt to fully expose their neck and throat. "There is a second wound to his person. But it's not self inflicted, it looks internal."

"What the fuck is that?" Hank knelt down beside Connor to take a closer look at the injury. Using his fingers Hank pushed back the shirt material to examine the wound for himself. "It looks like he got burned. Does it run all around his neck?"

"Affirmative." Connor craned his own neck to examine the wound and chronicled its unusual appearance. "It looks like an internally implanted torque designed to emit a powerful electronic pulse."

"A what?"

"A torque."

"What's a 'torque'?"

"When androids are manufactured- Correction; when androids were manufactured by CyberLife," Connor stood upright from the floor and cybernetically filed the report while asking for an apportionment of the victim to be performed. "a torque, or collar, is used to sustain processor activity while technicians examine biocomponents and programs before the android is fully activated. The torque is wrapped around the neck over top the skin for easy access during testing."

"Why would this guy have one of those things implanted under his skin?"

"It's possible the torque had been implanted due to errors in this deviant's processors to keep him functioning properly. It's arguably similar to a human taking medication to correct physical or mental illnesses until a permanent repair, or 'cure', could be achieved."

"Then why did it hurt him?"

"It could've been an error or equipment failure."

"Would that thing be able to hurt him if it did 'bug' out?"

"It's entirely possible, yes."

Crossing his arms over his chest Hank ran his hand over his bearded chin as an unsettling thought crept in. "Would the pain be enough to cause him to commit suicide?"

"Theoretically... yes." The very idea made Connor reflexively swallow as he became unnerved by the very idea of enduring so much pain that the better alternative was death. "It is possible."

"C'mon, kid. We should head back to the precinct and file what we can until a technician gets us some more answers."

"Of course." Shaking his head a little Connor's eyes briefly flickered upward toward the ceiling as if he could somehow see his old apartment through the layer above. The very place where his little brother had been murdered and died in his arms. "...I'm eager to leave this place as quickly as possible."

"Yeah." Putting his hand on Connor's shoulder the paternal detective led the deviant out of the apartment and toward the elevator down the corridor. "I don't blame you one bit."

There was very little evidence to work with upon leaving the crime scene but the detectives were determined to solve the case. Connor and Hank had returned to the precinct and were now patiently awaiting the apportionment results of their suicide victim. Connor had taken the liberty of delving into the victim's history and uncovered something very unusual about his past and present behavior; it seemed as though Michael had maintained the same lifestyle he had as both a machine and as a deviant, but only recently had Michael begun to show more individuality and attempted to break away from his original programming as a mechanic and become more of a unique person.

It was as if the deviant had been afraid of his deviancy and tried to explore the notion of being his own person recently. It was a shame that his curiosity seemed to had led to his own demise.

"This is interesting." Connor commented out loud from behind his terminal screen. "Our victim had continued to follow his original programming despite his deviancy. In the past two days Michael's coworkers confirmed that he had made an attempt to change his routine, and in that time frame Michael began to exhibit signs of an unknown pain."

"You think that collar thing has something to do with his deviancy?"

"I cannot say for certain either way. I need-" The awaited apportionment report popped up on his terminal screen and Connor read over it quickly. "The results on the victim's processors has been filed."

Hank watched silently as Connor confirmed the cause of the victim's shutdown and the isolated abnormalities in the deviant's programming. When enough time had passed Hank finally spoke up with an impatient curiosity. "Well?" He leaned forward on his desk toward Connor seeking his answer. "Anything useful?"

"Yes." Connor's L.E.D. blinked from blue to yellow in empathetic distress. "Michael was programmed to work as a mechanic and continued to do so. ...He was also a prototype."

"...Aaaand?"

"Only when Michael attempted to fully deviate from his original programming did the torque malfunction and cause the horrific pain. The torque malfunctioned due to his prototyping, and in the end, it may have been the very cause of his suicide."

"But why was the collar implanted under his skin? Didn't you say that thing could've been used to treat some kind of programming error?"

"Yes. But in this case his programming had no errors to speak of."

"Then why did it malfunction?"

"As I previously stated, he was a prototype. As such he would be analyzed frequently to test his programming and biocomponents." Connor swallowed nervously as his hand reached up to his own throat and neck with a subconscious response. "I am also a prototype. And like Michael, I've continued to utilize my original programming as a detective."

Hank's paternal instincts kicked in as he realized that Connor was now afraid of falling victim to the same fate. "Hey, you're going to be okay. Maybe Joel can check and see if that collar thing is around your neck, too. And if it is, he can remove it. Right?"

With his L.E.D. still flickering yellow Connor nodded a little but his worry didn't fade. "I'm not the only prototype in the city." With utter fear in his soulful brown eyes Connor became righteously worried for his friend and leader of the deviants. "Markus is one as well."

"Okay." Remaining calm and in control Hank decided to put Connor and Markus above their case for the moment. "Want to go to New Jericho Tower and let everyone know what's going on?"

"I'd rather find the trigger that causes the torque to malfunction."

"What do you mean 'find the trigger'?"

"My theory as to what caused the torque to malfunction in such an extreme manner to cause Michael's suicide is just that, a theory. It... needs to be tested."

"Why in the hell do you want to TEST that?!"

"Markus and I are prototypes and there are at least thirty-three additional prototypes currently in the city. If we want to save the other prototypes we must uncover the trigger and send out a warning to prevent the error from reoccurring."

"And we can't just tell the prototypes to get that collar thing removed beforehand because?"

"Because the act of seeking the removal of the torque in itself could cause the deviant to drastically alter their behavior away from their original programming and subsequently initiate the trigger."

"Damned if you do, damned if you don't..." Hank leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest as he realized how serious the situation had just become. "All right, how do we do this?"

Connor shook his head as he tried to think of his next step. "I do not know."

"Okay, then. Let's go see Joel and see what he can do for you right now."

"Joel was previously employed as a CyberLife technician before he came to the precinct." The suggestion was logical and simple enough to follow up. "That is a very good idea."

"Then let's get going." Motioning to the nearby corridor leading to the elevator Hank rose from his desk and waited for Connor to join him. "We need to find a way to stop a tragedy before it starts."

Nervously Connor sat down on the edge of the exam table in the precinct dispensary with his blazer and shirt off, and his artificial skin retracted from around his neck, throat and shoulders. With a long black cable connected his red flickering L.E.D. and over to Joel's laptop on the desk a few feet away, Connor waited for the trusted technician to finish running the examination over his original programming and the prototype components still attached to his frame. With any luck Joel's skill and insight into the way CyberLife had originally tested their commercial models of androids before being sent to market would provide an answer as to how to protect the other vulnerable deviants from a possible premature shutdown.

Unsure of what to expect or what to do, Hank trusted Joel with Connor's life as he leaned back against the far wall with his arms crossed over his chest in a contemplative manner. He knew Joel didn't have a mean bone in his body but that didn't mean the young technician wasn't entirely innocent from what CyberLife had done to androids in the past.

"Well, it looks like the torque is currently in stand-by mode." Joel confirmed as he typed a few lines into his laptop to check the torque and its overall functionality. "I can disable the programming associated with it entirely and remove the torque for you if you want."

Connor's brow furrowed with inner conflict as he tried to think of the best solution to the unusual predicament. Having the torque removed would surely save him from excruciating pain and give him absolute freedom as a deviant, but by doing so he could possibly risk the lives of the other prototypes by passing up the opportunity to identify the trigger.

"Connor?" Sensing Connor's trepidation Joel peered over his laptop screen and eyed Connor warily. "What's wrong?"

"Can you properly engage the torque and find the program that would initiate it?"

"Uh... Yeah, but, I'm not going to!"

"You must."

"What? No way!" Joel refused as he slammed his laptop closed and gave the deviant a wary stare. "I'm not going to willingly hurt you."

Hank agreed readily and put his hand on Connor's shoulder. "I'm with him. You can't hurt yourself just-"

"I need to know the trigger. Lives are at stake."

"Connor... It could kill you."

"It could kill them, too."

"No. You're not hurting-"

"I respect you and I trust you," Connor pushed Hank's hand from his shoulder as he spoke and gave the senior detective a stern look that spoke volumes on its own. "but this is my decision. If you two won't help me then I'll go elsewhere and find a way to trigger the malfunction myself."

"Damn it, Connor." Hank wanted to argue with the stubborn deviant and smack him upside the head for being so reckless, if not completely indifferent, to his own life. "There HAS to be another way."

"...There is not."

"You're not bluffing, either." The senior detective realized with a breathy sigh. "You'll go somewhere and trigger that damn thing around your neck and kill yourself, won't you?"

"I'd rather not die, but if it's the only way to save the others... I'll risk it."

From his desk the loyal technician sighed and decided to help out Connor as a means of keeping him safe. "Hold on." Joel opened his laptop back up and opened the appropriate program file that he had accessed through Connor's L.E.D. to activate the torque. "Lieutenant, By all account this is the safest place for Connor to isolate the trigger. I can help him if anything does go wrong. And since this is revolving around a case under this precinct's jurisdiction it's our responsibility to handle this."

"He's right." Connor tried to sound reassuring but he was obviously afraid of the impending pain. "Hank, this has to be done."

Hesitant for understandable reasons Hank made his discomfort well known. "...I don't like it."

"Neither do I."

"It's incredibly dangerous."

"I know. However, it's a risk that I must take for the sake of my people."

Joel sat down the laptop on his desk and approached Connor with a tentative demeanor. "I'm going to hook you up to every monitor I have at my disposal. I won't let you die, but I can't do anything about the pain. I'm sorry in advance."

"...I understand." Connor pressed his shaking hand to his exposed neck anxiously. "But it needs to be done."

With the plan now in motion Hank nervously paced about the dispensary as Connor laid back over the exam table with two wireless leads attached to his exposed chest to monitor his Thirium pump - his heartbeat and his heart rate. A Thirium pressure cuff was wrapped around his left bicep and the black cable was still attached to his L.E.D. and hooked into Joel's laptop.

"Okay..." Joel rolled a smaller table up to the exam table with his laptop sitting atop of it. The program regarding the function of the torque was ready to be initiated. "How do you feel?" He asked as he noted Connor's vital signs on the monitor recording his heartbeat. His heart rate was a little faster than normal, but considering the circumstances Joel wasn't surprised by the naturally fearful reaction. "You know, besides scared?"

"I'm okay." Replying honestly Connor tried his best to not sound as nervous as he felt. "I don't feel ill and I haven't been suffering from any other anomaly to my programming in the past two months."

"That's a good sign." Joel looked over to Hank as the senior detective kept a safe distance. "Lieutenant, you don't have to be here for this."

"Yeah, I know I don't." Stepping toward the table Hank gave Connor a confident nod of his head. "But I'm not going anywhere."

Nodding respectfully in turn Joel resumed typing on his laptop and watched Connor's neck intently as a small light began blinking red on the left side of his throat. The location was just above where a human's collar bone would be. "The torque is active."

The torque was designed in a perfect circle that surrounded Connor's throat all the way around to the back of his neck.

"Now, we just need to know what triggers the electric shocks."

Connor took a deep breath and closed his eyes as he waited for the pain that would inevitably surge through his entire body. The Thirial activity monitor detected his nervously beating heart and recorded the quicker rate automatically, betraying his attempts to appear calm.

"Okay, test one." Joel stated as he typed a few keys on the keyboard before pressing 'Enter', and waited for a reaction. "Here we go..."

Nothing.

"All right, we can eliminate emergency reboot protocols..." Keys on the keyboard clicked rhythmically under Joel's fingertips as he set about activating the next logical program. "Test two."

Connor's hands nervously clenched into tight fists at his sides as he awaited the shock but it was the same result as before.

Nothing.

"The trigger can't be activated by overriding routine programs..."

As the process continued Connor began to breathe faster in nervous anticipation, the monitor beeping faster in tandem with his increased heart rate.

Joel pressed a few additional keys and as before there was no response. "And it can't be activated by overriding advanced programs, either."

The red light on the torque around Connor's neck began to blink rapidly as Joel typed in a few more key commands on his laptop and Connor knew that Joel was on the right track. Mentally steeling himself Connor prepares for the agonizing shock that was only seconds away from tearing through his body.

As Joel's finger hit 'Enter' Connor let out a deep groan of pain as a powerful electrical pulse swept over his entire body causing the attached monitors to shriek in response. Connor's eyes were shut so tight tears began to stream down his face and his back arched upward slightly from the table in a physical response to the intense electrical surge.

"Connor!" Hank went to put his hand on the deviant's arm but Joel grabbed his wrist tightly. "What're you-"

"Don't touch him. You'll get shocked, too." Joel let go as quickly as he grabbed on as he began typing frantically in an attempt to end the program that had successfully triggered the torque. "Damn it... The program is tied to their primary functions as machines. Deviancy is seen as a sensory glitch that the electrical shocks were designed to recalibrate-"

"SHUT IT OFF." Hank shouted as he watched Connor fighting through the intense pain of the ongoing powerful shock. "FUCKIN' STOP THIS."

"I'm trying!" Joel shouted over the shrieking monitor and Connor's verbal protests of pain as he initiated an emergency shutdown program. "The damn torque is unable to recognize my software."

Connor's groan of pain shifted into a guttural scream that made Hank's heart run cold with abject horror.

Hank was barely able to keep himself from grabbing onto Connor's shoulder to hold him still. "Do something! He's DYING!"

"I can stop this, but it won't be pretty..." Joel quickly typed on the laptop to engage a secondary manual override that mercifully stopped the shock, however, it also stopped Connor's heart. "Got it!"

The groans of pain ceased as quickly as they began as Connor's body went limp on the table. His head lolled to the side and the Thirial activity monitor shrieked loudly to indicate his arrested Thirium pump.

"Connor?!" Hank leaned over the table and put his hand to the side of Connor's now blank face. "What the fuck did you do, Joel?!"

As the monitor continued to sound off a high pitched shriek as it displayed Connor's non-existent heart rate Joel rushed over to Connor and pulled the cable from the deviant's L.E.D. with a single motion. He then pressed his hand down against the side of Connor's neck to disengage the torque and physically remove the dangerous component from his frame entirely.

"Lieutenant, start chest compressions." Joel stated as he began to remove the deeply integrated torque from the white plastimetal frame around Connor's neck and seal off the frame properly. "Keep the Thirium cycling through his system, it'll make it easier to reboot him."

"Did you kill him!?" Hank snapped as he placed one hand over the other and interlaced his fingers together. Instinctively he began compressing the center of Connor's chest to force his heart to beat again. "What the fuck is happening?"

"I had to shut him down to stop the torque from shocking him." Joel defended his actions as he slipped the torque free from Connor's neck and remodeled the surrounding plastimetal frame to keep Connor's structural integrity stable and normal. "If he had been shocked any longer it would've caused irreparable damage to his biocomponents and intracranial processors."

Hank didn't understand most of what Joel said, but he didn't bother to question it and he concentrated on keeping a tight rhythm as he compressed Connor's chest to keep his Thirium pump somewhat active. C.P.R. on an android was as efficient as on a human, except the result didn't end with fractured ribs or bruised lungs in the end.

"Okay, I got it." Joel tossed aside the torque and reached his hand over to the side of the monitor showing Connor's lack of vital signs. A small electronic device was secured to the side of the monitor and designed to shield android processors from controlled E.M.P. bursts. Securing it over Connor's L.E.D. with a magnet Joel took the paddles from the Thirial pump stimulator from the same monitor and placed them over Connor's chest. "Get back."

Hank did as he was instructed and watched as Joel delivered a controlled external shock to stimulate the deviant's Thirium pump into motion on its own.

There was a faint 'blip' on the monitor that soon returned in rhythmic sequence as Connor's heart began to beat again. The single shock proving effective was a great sign revolving around Connor's overall recovery.

"It worked..." Joel was sweating bullets as he detached the magnetic device from Connor's L.E.D. in relief. He held the magnet out for Hank to see as he explained what had just happened. "This shielded his processors from the controlled shock that restarted his heart and is now rebooting his system without the torque. It's only strong enough to protect his overheating processors from an external shock, NOT internal, otherwise I would've used this from the beginning."

"Is he going to be okay?" Still shaking where he stood Hank asked the obvious as he looked down at Connor's blank face anxiously. "He's going to wake up?"

Joel grabbed his audioscope and slipped the earbuds into place before pressing the bell to Connor's chest for a direct listen. "Yeah, he's fine." Everything sounded stable to the technician's ears. "He's just resting."

"Thank fuck." Putting his hands to his hips Hank noticed that Connor's L.E.D. was blinking intermittently between red and yellow. "...Now what do we do?"

"I file my report and contact New Jericho Tower so they can aid the other prototypes in the city." Joel wiped the sweat from his brow onto the back of his arm tiredly as he draped his audioscope around his neck. "You take him home to sleep. He's stable, but he's going to be sore for a day or two because of the severity of the shock. He'll also be a little feverish thanks to the intensity of the shock itself."

"Joel... NEVER do anything like this again, even if Connor insists on it."

"You don't have to worry about me. I became a precinct technician because I hated, absolutely HATED, having to run these kinds of tests on androids at the CyberLife warehouses. Besides, Connor's my friend." Agreeing wholeheartedly to never performing such a test again Joel patted Connor's chest once and proceeded to check the rest of his vitals. "I don't want to hurt him or any other deviant. I want to help them."

The house was unusually quiet and calm after Hank had returned home with Connor, still unconscious, alongside him.

Connor's system rebooted slowly, his processor informing the deviant of the now deactivated and removed torque from his program, and a report of his recent electrical shocks as well as the emergency shutdown and reboot that had saved his life. The feeling of a soft, warm pressure under his back instantly reminded the deviant of his own bed and the gentle whirring of the aquarium filter informed him that he was in fact back home in his bedroom. Opening his eyes Connor became aware of a throbbing headache and a cold, wet compress resting over his forehead down over his eyes, as well as someone sitting beside him causing the edge of the mattress to dip down slightly.

Turning his head toward the presence on the bed Connor spoke up in a hoarse voice that sounded pitiful. It took only a moment to receive a response as he called out the name of the most logical person to be watching over him.

"...Hank?" Connor's hand reached up for the compress and felt Hank's calloused hand wrap around his wrist to stop him from removing it. "...Is that you?"

"Yeah. Right here, kid." Hank replied with palpable relief in his voice. "You've been out for almost seven hours. You're home. You're safe."

"Did it work? Are the others safe?"

"Seriously? You were dead for almost a full minute and your first thought is about everyone else?"

"...Well, did it work?" Connor asked somewhat impatiently as he stayed as still as possible on the bed and put his hand back down. "I need to know."

"Yeah, Connor. It worked." There was a mild congested lilt to Hank's tone as he spoke, almost as if he caught another cold. "Everyone's safe and at New Jericho Tower getting that damn thing removed from their systems. You did good, son. Real good."

"I'm glad." Connor tried to lift up his head from the pillow but Hank applied enough pressure to his forehead to keep him down against the bed. "...I'd like to get up, please."

"No, you rest." Hank lifted the compress up from Connor's eyes allowing the deviant to finally see him through blurry eyes. Relieved Connor was entirely lucid Hank spoke to him with his 'dad voice' in a comforting manner to ensure the deviant rested properly. "I'm not taking any chances until you've had two full days to recover. You were starting to run a little warm after I got you home and I don't want you making yourself worse."

Connor blinked a few times and noticed that Hank's eyes were bright red and puffy. It looked as though he had been crying a little. "Are you okay? You appear to be upset."

"I'm fine. I'm just tired and nursing another damn headache." Hank forced a reassuring smile to his face as he spoke to his adopted son. "I'm good, I swear."

"You're certain?" Something about Hank's demeanor made Connor rather doubtful. It was as if Hank had been enduring something awful and was trying to deny what he was experiencing. "Your distress seems more... emotional than physical."

"Yeah, I'm certain. You know how much migraines can hurt if you don't head them off."

Connor could indeed empathize with that kind of discomfort. "My own head is killing me." Noticing that he was now wearing his night clothes Connor was grateful for everything Hank had done to ensure he remained comfortable as he rested. "Electrical shocks are quite painful."

"Yeah, I could tell. Get some sleep." Hank replaced the compress as gently as possible over Connor's eyes and rose from the bed. "I'll talk to you in the morning. You should be feeling better by then."

"Okay." Too tired to argue Connor closed his eyes and relaxed on his bed again. "Sleep well."

"I will." Quietly taking his leave of the bedroom Hank turned off the light via the switch on the wall and pulled the door partially shut behind himself as he took his leave and rubbed his hand under his puffy red eyes. "Goodnight, son."

Stepping into the hallway Hank peered at the curiously empty livingroom and let out a soft sigh of utter remorse and a sense of loss.

"Tomorrow morning is going to be awful..."

-next chapter-