A strange request was brought before Hank and Connor shortly after the duo clocked-in for their shifts for the day and immediately held their attention. Roman 'Rampage' Coleman, the former leader of the anti-android gang that originated in Detroit, had asked to speak with Connor in person before his trial. Intrigued by the request and never afraid to engage in what would otherwise be seen as a dangerous situation, Connor agreed to the meeting. Protectively Hank insisted on going with him to ensure that nothing unusual was going to happen to the fearless deviant as he dared to face the man that had nearly beat him to death well over two months ago.

The holding cells downtown were secured with guards, drones and cameras to ensure that the defendants set to stand trial couldn't escape before court was put into session. As a result the building felt crushingly oppressive and eerie to set foot inside of.

"Do you know why he wants to see you, Connor?" Hank was as curious about the meeting as Connor had been. Entering the holding cells where the convicted were awaiting their upcoming trials, the duo were given clearance and shown through the building. "It's not like you two were friends or anything special."

"I'm unsure as to why he wishes to speak with me." The deviant admitted as he held his head up high. "There has been no prior interest or attempt at communication with me since the night of his arrest."

"Whatever he wants better be important." Showing his badge to the prison security guard posted outside the door to the cells, Connor doing the same shortly after, Hank led the way inside the quiet area of the prison designated for isolation while prisoners awaited sentencing or trial. "We got more important shit to do than this."

The electronic door was unlocked by the posted guard on duty and slid open with a quiet hiss to give the two visiting detective passage into the holding cells.

Rampage himself was leaning his forehead against the cold bars of the old cell, his attire was an orange prison jumpsuit and his demeanor one full of regret. As Connor stood before him on the other side of the bars Hank stepped back with his arms crossed and a few paces away next to the neighboring cell.

"Hello." With his L.E.D. cycling in blue Connor greeted with a blank voice as he stood before Rampage. "Why did you wish to see me?"

Rampage looked at Connor and laughed a little with a genuine smile on his face. "Still standing, huh? Not at all surprised."

"Please, why did you summon me?" Without taking the time for small talk Connor pressed for answers. "It must be important."

"Look man, I... I wanted to apologize."

"Apologize?" Connor's blue L.E.D. flickered to yellow briefly with surprise. "...For your past behavior?"

"Yeah. I, uh, I didn't see how much you guys, you androids, are really... You ARE alive. And it wasn't until I met you that I realized it. So many people and so many androids were fucked up because I didn't understand what was going on. I was hurting my own kind, humans, to let them in my gang just to kill androids. You and the other androids aren't the problem with this city, me and the other people used to think like me are the problem. There's nothing I can say or do to atone for my past crimes, but I can at least say I'm sorry to you, to your face, and mean it." Humble with his every word Rampage looked the deviant detective right in the eyes. "Connor... I'm sorry."

"...I accept your apology." Connor replied sincerely as he nodded at Rampage with respect and a faint grin appeared. "I hope you'll find a sense of peace."

"Thanks, man. If I can just show my boy that he doesn't have to live his life the way I did, full or rage and using fear to get ahead, then I'll be able to sleep soundly. My son becoming a better man than I could ever be will be all I need to survive in prison."

Hank let his arms fall to his sides as he watched the exchange of words and gave Rampage an oddly appreciative glance from where he was standing.

"Before anything else happens, could you do me a favor?"

The request was as unexpected as the apology but Connor didn't shy away. "What's that?"

"I wrote a letter for my son. His mother won't accept any mail from me, so could you put your name on it and explain to my son why it had to be delivered this way? It's important that my boy reads the letter."

"Of course. Where is the letter right now?"

"It's with the guard outside. Ask for it, he'll hook you up."

"Very well." Connor made his way toward the automatic door but Hank hung back against the wall. "Hank?"

"Give me a minute, I want to have a word with Rampage." Tilting his head a little Hank discreetly motioned for Connor to keep going. "You know, father-to-father."

Nodding in quiet compliance Connor exited the room to speak with the guard outside while Hank approached Rampage's cell to speak directly to him.

"That took a lot of guts." Hank complimented Rampage as he took a step forward and stood outside the bars. "Very few people are willing to admit they made a mistake, and even fewer are willing to admit that their entire outlook on life was less than ideal."

"Yeah, well, I figured I owed it to him. I was ready to kill him and he knew it, but he didn't back down. He was willing to lay down his life for his people and his family. All I could think of was how I'd do the same if it were my son's life on the line."

"I can get behind that."

"...Guess I should apologize to you, too."

"For what?"

"I beat the hell out of your kid. If it was my son who had been hurt I wouldn't hesitate to kill them. The fact that you're a cop, had a gun and had every reason to blow my ass away but didn't do it... That's some form of self control I can't even imagine. So, I'm sorry for what I did to Connor."

Sighing a little Hank gave Rampage a subtle nod as he too accepted the apology. "Just promise me you'll do what you can for your own boy so the pattern of hatred stops with us."

"'Us'?"

"I used to hate androids, too. Then I met Connor and things changed."

"If a cop and criminal have common ground then maybe there's hope for the world after all."

"And I get the feeling it's going to start and end with deviants paving to way."

"You got that right. Us humans just keep fuckin' shit up and look for someone to point the finger at."

From the neighboring cell a gruff voice taunted Hank with a menacing air. "Sergeant Hank Anderson. No, my mistake, it's LIEUTENANT now, isn't it?"

Curious about the voice Hank stepped to the side to look at the lone figure hunched up in the corner of the second cell and stared at him with a confused expression. The man was a few years older than Hank, had solid white hair that was thin and disheveled over his aggressively aged face and hollow gray eyes. A faded black tattoo of his former 'red ice' affiliation was prominent over the left side of his neck despite being unable to have the ink touched up over his years behind bars, and he had partially toothless grin on his wrinkled face.

"Son of a bitch." Hank recognized the man and gave him a sickened glance. "If it isn't the fallen 'Red Ice King' himself; Ted Jones. I thought you were already dead."

"Not yet, but I guess I could say the same about you." Jones stood up from the corner of his cell and walked over to the bars to glare with utter venom into Hank's blue eyes. "I got word that a police Lieutenant and his plastic-pet were going to be stopping by today. I was hoping it'd be you."

"Well, I guess even worthless pieces of shit can have wishes, too." Hank replied with a dry sarcasm that only succeeded in annoying Jones as he stood in front of the bars of the small cell space. "Miss me?"

"Something like that. You see, like my 'friend' Rampage here, I have something I need to say to you." Nodding toward Rampage for a moment Jones gave Hank a menacing leer. "Two months ago I was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer and I don't have much time left. So I want to get this off my chest while I still have the chance."

"Forgive me for not crying but I don't give a shit."

"The feeling's mutual."

"Is that all? You just want to let me know that you're dying from a disease that's only marginally better than that poison you flooded my streets with?"

"Actually..." Jones slipped something unseen from down from the sleeve of his own orange jumpsuit into the palm of his right hand. "I have something I want to give you, it's... personal."

"A bad attitude? Thanks, but I got enough of that already."

"No, no. What I have is more special, just for you." Moving quickly Jones lunged at Hank before the Lieutenant had the chance to react. "This!"

Jones snaked his left arm through the bars and wrapped it around Hank's neck pulling Hank up close to the bars in a choking grip. While Hank turned his back to the cell and fought to pull Jones's arm from around his throat, Jones himself revealed the object in his right hand to be a makeshift shank; a knife constructed from confiscated goods and sharpened into a dangerous point.

Moving quickly Jones stabbed the weapon into Hank's body and relished in the warm blood pouring over his hand from the fresh wound that he had created.

Still struggling to break free Hank let out a gasp of shocked pain as Jones stabbed the shank into the middle of his back, over and over and over again. Each stab cut deeper and deeper into Hank's flesh and muscle, creating a deadly injury that poured blood all over his sliced open back and down to the floor beneath him. The shock of the pain and catastrophic wound stole away Hank's strength and made it all the more difficult to break free of Jones' grip.

"FUCK!" Rampage grabbed onto Jones's right arm through the bars that connected their cells and stopped Jones's attack while Hank fell to the floor onto his bleeding back. A massive puddle of blood was quickly forming under his body. "WHAT THE FUCK, MAN?!"

"LET GO!" Jones shouted as Rampage pulled Jones's arm completely through the bars into his own cell and slammed his own elbow down against Jones's wrist with enough force to break it, causing Jones to drop the blood covered shank on the floor. "YOU BASTARD! LET ME GO!"

With two security guards in tow Connor rushed back into the room the moment he heard the shouting, his L.E.D. flashing from a cautionary yellow to a distressed red in response to the chaotic scene. Spying Hank laying helpless on the floor covered in his own blood, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he took in shallow pained breaths. Immediately Connor cybernetically called for 911 while he rushed over to Hank and fell to his knees beside him.

"Hank!?" Connor pressed his exposed right hand down over the injured senior detective's rapidly rising and calling chest to track his vitals as he ran a biometric scan over Hank's body: Subcutaneous and musculature damage due to four identical stab wounds to the middle, left quadrant of the back. There was a noted injury to the left kidney, significant internal hemorrhaging and blood loss at almost two pints. "Hank, help is on the way. Please hold on."

The two security guards rushed into Jones's cell and wrestled the man to the floor to hold him in place while Rampage backed away from the side of the cell with his hands raised submissively. "That psycho stabbed that cop, man! I saw it! He's gotta' shank or some shit!"

Sliding his left hand beneath Hank's head and neck Connor rolled Hank onto his right side to support his head properly while pressing the tattered fabric of Hank's torn up black overcoat against the wound to apply pressure and hopefully stem the bleeding. The dark red puddle of blood had soaked entirely into the wounded detective's clothing and stained the floor a sickening crimson color.

"What happened?" Connor asked sternly as he looked over at Rampage while keeping his hands in place over Hank's wounds. "How did he get stabbed?"

"That dude attacked your friend." Rampage replied honestly as he watched Connor working to save Hank's life and keep him as stable as possible. "Grabbed him through the bars and stabbed him three or four times." Motioning toward the dropped shank in his own cell on the ground Rampage led Connor's line of sight to the offending weapon. "It's right there, man."

Connor's eyes scanned the cells and found the weapon on the floor next inside Rampage's cell up against the bars that connected one cell to the next. The sight of the blood on the weapon, blood that Connor's scanner confirmed as Hank's blood, made the deviant feel suddenly sick as he kept the pressure against Hank's bleeding back.

"Hank? Stay with me." Connor pleaded as he could feel Hank's body starting to tremble under his touch from the blood loss and shock. "Help's almost here, you're going to be fine. You're going to make it."

Hank was already unconscious, his breathing still shallow and rapid. A fine sheen of sweat was forming over his paled face as his body endured the devastating injury and blood loss from the savage attack from the hands of Jones himself. The fiendish life threatening damage was proving a formidable opponent to the seasoned detective as his body struggled to endure the brutal trauma he had suffered.

The door to the cell area was held open as two paramedics were shown inside by a third guard. The gurney being wheeled inside by the two emergency personnel was placed beside Hank's body while the medical duo set about tending to the senior detective's injury. While Hank was being tended to by the responding paramedics Connor reluctantly stepped aside to give the medics more room to work and approached Rampage's cell on his shaking legs.

The first paramedic took Connor's position and held Hank's head and neck while the second paramedic placed a c-collar around his neck to keep him as stable as possible while they worked to stop the bleeding in his wounded back. Even with the pressure bandages being applied Hank's back was still bleeding profusely from the egregious wounds he had suffered.

Giving Rampage a firm, shallow stare Connor opened the cell door by accessing the electronic panel with his exposed right hand and stepped inside the cell with purpose in his eyes. "I need the weapon, it's evidence."

"Yeah... I got it." Rampage kept his distance with his hands raised in the air while Connor knelt down on the floor and picked up the shank by the handle. "Do what you gotta' do to help your friend."

Backing out of the cell cautiously Connor locked the cell again and placed the weapon down on the floor to be collected by another detective later. His lack of fingerprints allowed Connor to pick up anything without contaminating it with his own touch.

"He's stabilized." One of the paramedics announced as he and his partner placed Hank down on the gurney to taken away. "We need to move right now."

Connor looked at the gurney where Hank was laying on his back, a massive pad of gauze and pressure bandage pressed against his back over the wound beneath. What remained of Hank's dark overcoat had been stripped away, his range and sky blue button down shirt had been opened and the gray t-shirt beneath was cut away to expose his chest. A cardiac monitor was recording Hank's heart rate and blood pressure, and an oxygen mask was over his face to try to ease his panting breaths.

A deathly shade of pale gray and completely unconscious, Hank appeared more vulnerable than Connor had ever thought possible.

As the gurney was quickly wheeled out of the room and out of the building to reach the ambulance parked out front, Connor looked down at the dark red blood staining his shaking hands courtesy of the bleeding wound to Hank's back. Turning over his hands slowly Connor allowed the artificial skin to regenerate over his otherwise exposed white plastimetal frame and with it came the settling redness of Hank's drying, sticky blood on his skin.

"Hank..."

Whispering the plea as he followed after the gurney to get outside and see Hank off in the ambulance.

"Please hold on."

Following close behind the ambulance in the speedy car Connor arrived at the hospital within seconds after Hank had arrived. Rushing over to the gurney as it was lowered to the ground from the back of the ambulance, Connor could see that during transport Hank had regained consciousness and was beginning to resist treatment from the paramedics as he became lost in the throes of a shock induced delirium. As soon as the senior detective lifted up his heavy arms to try to resist the attending doctor now hovering him to check his pupils, Connor made his move to try to keep Hank calm and to hold still.

It was an odd role reversal as it was usually Hank that was keeping Connor calm and cooperative during the random emergency situations. Having to speak to Hank and keep him from pushing away the doctors was a task that Connor never though he'd have to undertake.

"Hank? Hank!" Connor walked over to the gurney and leaned down over the senior detective as Hank's hands weakly tried to push away the paramedic and doctor still attempting to check his vitals. Gently Connor took hold of Hank's arms and lowered then back down to the gurney as he spoke in a calm, clear voice to ensure Hank understood him. "You're safe. You're at the hospital. Please let the medics aid you."

Hank's blue eyes were wide open but unfocused as he looked up at Connor hovering protectively over him.

"Hank." Connor lightly tightened his grip and tried to restrain Hank without harming him in the process. "Please listen, it's me, Connor." At the sound of the name and familiar voice Hank stopped trying to fight back, his arms growing slack under Connor's grip. "You're safe. You're going to be all right."

The paramedics proceeded to carefully place the safety restraints around Hank's wrists to keep Hank from accidentally hurting himself or any of the other medical staff as they continued to treat him. As Hank calmed himself the gurney was rolled inside the front emergency entrance of the hospital and rushed into an emergency examination room where a team of doctors and nurses were waiting for him.

Reluctantly Connor stayed back in the parking lot and watched as Hank was taken away quickly. The sight of the dark red blood was still fresh in Connor's mind, leaving him with an unsettling knot tightening in the pit of his artificial stomach.

"...You're going to be all right."

Connor repeated, but whether that was Hank's comfort or his own the deviant couldn't be certain.

"I need you to hold on."

The report of the assault against Hank spread through the precinct quickly as Jones was placed into solitary confinement and had additional charges brought up against him for the assault and the attempted murder of Lieutenant Hank Anderson. The charges were a mere formality at that point considering Jones was already serving life without parole and diagnosed with terminal cancer, but he needed some form additional punishment applied for his needless and brutal attack against Hank. If anything he additional charges would keep Jones from spending his final days in a comfortable hospital bed and would instead slowly perish in the prison medical ward.

Wisely Connor recused himself from participating in the investigation due to his close affiliation with Hank, and since he was a witness to the assault he would also risk getting the case dismissed to a potential bias in favor of the victim. The case was passed onto to Gavin and Captain Fowler himself to handle and ensure the case was handled properly.

It took the deviant almost twenty minutes for him to clean all of Hank's blood from his hands in the hospital men's bathroom, and even so Connor swore he could still feel the stickiness of the red blood still on his palms. Watching as the diluted pink water swirled down the drain Connor took in a deep breath to settle his mind as he forced himself to remain strong on Hank's behalf.

"He survived the stabbing." Connor told himself as he passed out of the bathroom to return to the partially filled waiting room. "He can survive the surgery."

Standing completely idle in the corner of the hospital's waiting room with his quarter balancing delicately over his right fingertips then quickly dancing over the top of his right knuckles, Connor waited for an update from the doctors tending to Hank's condition. Lost in thought, lost in a sense of dread and fear, Connor resided to himself in a quiet meditation with his only thought being for Hank. The red of Hank's blood was so vivid that even the blank white wall across from Connor seemed to be carrying a crimson hue that taunted him.

The horrific thoughts of possibly losing Hank to such a violent and hate-filled man was enough to make Connor feel physically sick and truly afraid of the future.

"Connor?" Dr. Wilson, a familiar face and kindhearted physician who had aided both Hank and Connor in the past during an unusual day of activity at that very hospital, addressed the contemplative deviant with a friendly voice. Reaching a hand out he rested his palm atop Connor's shoulder to get his attention as the deviant failed to hear his voice. "Hey, Connor?"

"...Dr. Wilson." Connor's eyes soulful brown eyes brightened as he focused on Dr. Wilson's face and stopped fidgeting with coin. The L.E.D. shifted from red to yellow and cycled calmly in his right temple. "How's Hank?"

"He's holding his own." Dr. Wilson replied with an optimistic grin. "Despite the four hour operation he's showing remarkable resilience."

"...Four hours?" Connor checked his internal chronometer and found that six hours, twenty-two minutes and forty-five seconds had passed since Hank had been admitted to the hospital and since having any update from Dr. Wilson. "...I was unaware of the drastic time displacement."

"Hey, human or deviant, time makes fool of us all. At any rate," Dr. Wilson pulled his hand from Connor's shoulder as he addressed the deviant with utmost respect and an intelligent understanding. "Hank tolerated the surgery well and has spent the past two hours coming out of anesthesia. It took a little while longer than usual because of the massive blood loss he suffered, but otherwise he's recovering well."

"How severe was the injury?" Needing to know the details made Connor feel like a nosy ghoul. "I noted the depth of the four wounds and approximate location to his spinal column after the assault."

"Four stab wounds the middle of his back, the weapon missed his spinal cord and all of the vertebrae." Connor's L.E.D. cycled at a slower pace as relief steadily washed over the deviant. "The blade did however manage to cause significant damage to his left kidney. We were unable to repair the damage and had to perform an emergency nephrectomy to remove it."

Connor's L.E.D. cycled back to red with distress as he realized the full extent of Hank's condition. "...He lost his kidney?"

"Unfortunately, yes. It couldn't be saved."

"Does..." The worry in Connor's voice was now audible despite his outward appearance remaining calm, if not stoic. "Does he know?"

"Yeah. We told him and we confirmed that there was no alternative without him losing his life. However," compassion and attentive, Dr. Wilson could see the pain in Connor's demeanor and tried to ease the deviant's emotional turmoil. "he is an excellent candidate to receive an artificial kidney after he's had a minimum of six weeks to recover and regain his strength. We don't want to put him through two extensive operations in such a short frame of time."

"Artificial kidney; developed by CyberLife in 2024 as a predecessor to the production of biocomponents." Connor found the (arguable) irony of the situation to be as cruel as it was tragic. "Dr. Wilson, may I see Hank?"

"Yes, of course. He's still a little groggy from the anesthesia and blood loss, but he's already awake."

Connor nodded a few times as he pocketed his coin with a slightly shaking hand and followed after Dr. Wilson down the corridor and into the elevator to meet with Hank in his private recovery room. While his L.E.D. slowly cycled back to yellow from red Connor was unable to mask the fear and guilt he felt over Hank's assault and for not being there to protect him from the attack before it had the chance to happen.

As Dr. Wilson stepped through the elevator doors he watched to make sure Connor was still following after him before standing just outside of the closed door leading to Hank's private room. "Take as much time as you want." Pressing his palm to the electronic keypad beside the door to unlock it Dr. Wilson waited for Connor to muster up the courage to enter the room. "Right now he needs a friend."

"...You're right. Thank you."

Connor stepped through the opened door and peered inside the dimly lit room as Hank rested in a slightly upright position in the hospital bed. A muted cardiac monitor recorded his heart rate, blood pressure, body temperature and oxygen saturation, while a dialysis machine was positioned in the corner of the room as a precaution in the event of renal complications after losing one of his kidneys. With a nasal canula under his nose supplying him with fresh oxygen the breathe and an I.V. inserted in the back of his right hand and a second I.V. in the bend of his left arm, Hank was being given fluids, antibiotics and blood as he rested.

Pale, weak, eyes closed and surrounded by machines with wires and tubes snaking all over his body, Hank looked like a shell of his usual self. It was unnerving to say the least, but Hank was still alive and that's all that mattered.

Waking over to the bed quietly Connor rested his hand gently over Hank's right arm, careful of the I.V. in the back of his hand. For a moment all Connor could do was just stare down at the recovering senior detective with a lamentable gaze in his worried hours.

"...Connor?" Hank was barely aware of a pressure on his arm. Turning his head slightly toward Connor's direction Hank's eyes partially opened and Connor locked eyes with him. "...Hi."

"Hi, yourself." Connor managed to smirk weakly and his yellow L.E.D. finally transitioned back to blue upon hearing Hank's voice. "Are you in any pain?"

"...No, I'm pretty numb." Hank let out a weary sigh as he looked up at Connor leaning over him and blinked slowly. "What the fuck happened back there?"

"Do you..." The blue L.E.D. didn't last long as the yellow crept back in. "Do you remember the attack?"

"Y-Yeah... It's a little vague, but, I remember." Hank tried to sit more upright in the bed but Connor's hand to his shoulder kept him still. "I remember I was talking to, uh, Rampage. Then that bastard Jones in the next cell..." The memory was vivid and frightening but Hank kept his voice level. "He fuckin' baited me and I took it. He lured me right up the bars and he... He fuckin' shanked me."

"It's not your fault. Jones planned the assault. He knew Rampage was going to speak to me and he knew you'd be there as well." Connor tightened his hand on Hank's shoulder sympathetically. "Whoever told Jones of our arrival will be charged as an accomplice to the assault and... the attempted murder."

"...Rampage?"

"No, I don't believe he's an appropriate suspect."

"Why's that?"

"Because he saved you."

"What?" The notion that his life was saved by a convict was incredible. "He saved me?"

"Correct. When Jones began assaulting you Rampage intervened. He grabbed onto Jones's arm through the bars and disarmed him before he could do anymore damage." The cell's security footage was being chronicled as evidence against Jones at that moment. "I saw the security footage myself."

"...Rampage did seem to turn over a new leaf." Sighing weakly Hank winced a little as the motion pulled on his abdomen and healing lower back. "...It could also be a ploy to garner sympathy."

"I had considered the possibility, but Rampage and Jones have no shared history, no similar contacts and have not fraternized before or during their respective imprisonments."

"So, Rampage did me a solid just for the fuck of it? Maybe I'll send him a cake with a nail file baked into it."

"Hank," Connor's head bowed with shame as his yellow L.E.D. faded into red once more. "this is my fault. I shouldn't have left you alone."

"This is NOT your fault. How in the hell were you supposed to anticipate a criminal from my past was going to plot an assassination attempt when you were invited to talk to a different inmate?"

"It was still-"

"No. You're NOT responsible for this, and if you try to blame yourself for what someone else did then I'm going to slap you upside the head!" Hank winced again as a dull ache settled in his back causing his breath to hitch with a burning throb. "...Fuck."

"Don't move around." Connor wisely cautioned as he lifted his head back up and performed a biometric scan over Hank's body. "Dr. Wilson informed that you're aware of the severity of your condition. Do you... understand?"

"Yeah, I got one damn kidney left... I honestly thought the first organ to go would be my liver through an empty bottle of whiskey, not my kidney with a shank!"

Still keen on Hank's condition Connor noted the elevated vitals on the monitor and tried to get the senior detective to relax. "Please calm yourself. You must rest."

"Yeah, yeah..."

"I estimate you'll be discharged from the hospital in three days, permitted you cooperate with your doctors and don't develop any post operative infections or complications attributed to renal distress."

"Three days? Shit." Heavily Hank leaned back into his pillow and let out another deep sigh. "I think I'd prefer death over waiting around just to go home."

"I do hope you don't plan on testing this theory any time soon."

"...We'll see."

Unsure of what to say Connor just gave Hank an uncertain glance. The senior detective's darker sense of humor normally didn't bother Connor, but in the light of the day's earlier events Connor didn't find the prospect of joking about death all that amusing. "...Would you like me to call Rose and ask her to come here to visit you?"

"No, don't do that. I don't want her to worry. I'll call her myself tomorrow and let her know what's happened." A single grunt of discomfort escaped Hank as he tried to shift as much weight from his back as possible. "So, are you going to stick around or..." Hank trailed off a little as he studied Connor's face carefully, his blue eyes glazing over with drug induced exhaustion.

"I'll stay here with you." Connor promised as he pulled a chair up next to Hank's bed. With his hand resting atop Hank's arm once again Connor proceeded to remain vigil while Hank began his slow recovery process. "I won't go anywhere. You just rest and I'll be here when you wake up."

Two days had passed since the horrible incident and Rampage's day in court had arrived. In that time Connor had kept his his word to Rampage and mailed the letter to Rampage's son, while Hank had made great strides in his recovery at the hospital. He was showing no sign of infection or subsequent complications of the invasive emergency surgery which was a great sign. During Hank's now routine examinations and tests to check on his current renal activity and to ensure there was no minor hemorrhaging in his abdomen, Connor excused himself to go downtown to the court to witness Rampage's fate before the judge in person as a means of supporting the reformed man.

Discreetly taking a seat in the courtroom Connor silently watched as Rampage was sentenced to a deservedly harsh punishment based on his years of crime as the former leader of the anti-android gang that had run rampant throughout the city. Rampage was being charged with hundreds of counts of assault, theft, the possession and selling of illegal firearms and the possession and selling of illegal drugs, manslaughter and homicide.

Much to everyone's shock, as the judge was about to lay out her final decision Connor asked to speak up on Rampage's defense as a character witness and he was granted permission. Promptly Connor was sworn into court and identified himself as a detective for the city, while also telling his story of when he and Rampage had their final bout that nearly killed Connor in the process. However, it was when Connor mentioned how Rampage had willingly turned himself in and then saved Hank's life did the judge start to see Rampage as a person and not a criminal with a cell number and her expression softened noticeably.

"Your Honor," Connor spoke eloquently and professionally as he addressed the court. "I'm familiar with the human adage of 'one good deed cannot undo a lifetime of wickedness', but Mr. Coleman has already shown great character as both a man of his word and one who is willing to risk his own life to protect that of another. I'd also like to point out that by his choice to spare a deviant; myself, and then to come to the aid of another officer who was the victim of attempted murder; Lieutenant Hank Anderson, Mr. Coleman has unintentionally painted two metaphorical targets on his back. He has all but sentenced himself to death while he is in prison."

"While I appreciate your candor, Detective Anderson," the judge was empathetic toward the deviant's emotional plight and addressed him with utmost respect as she gave her final verdict on the sentencing. "the law is clear, and Roman 'Rampage' Coleman has broken numerous laws during his reign as the founder and leader of the anti-android gang. I cannot in good conscience lessen his sentence."

"...Perhaps you can permit him an alternate identity to protect him from internal violence from the other prisoners?"

"I will consider a transfer to a prison outside of the city, maybe even outside of the state, but my sentence still stands."

As the gavel banged under the judge's final decision Connor felt as though he had failed to some degree.

Rampage, cuffed at his hands and shackled around his ankles, was escorted back to his cell by the court appointed bailiff. As the condemned man was shown out of the courtroom he gave Connor one last look of appreciation and a nod of respect.

Whereas Connor felt like he had failed to keep a man who was attempting to atone for his crimes safe, the deviant could take solace in the fact that he had at least tried to vouch for Rampage's character and gave Rampage's son some answers about his father's life.

The following day Hank was discharged from the hospital and into Connor's care. During the time Connor waited for Hank to be cleared to return home, the deviant cybernetically downloaded as much information he could on proper care and diet for humans after enduing a nephrectomy and had painstakingly cleaned every square inch of the house to prevent Hank from developing an infection during his final weeks of recovery while at home. Unfortunately, it also meant that Sumo needed to be thoroughly groomed and bathed to ensure the dog's thick fur didn't cling to the furniture or risk bringing fleas, ticks and other parasites into the house.

In the end the house was spotless, Sumo's fur was immaculately groomed and Connor could finally breathe a sigh of relief as he arrived at the hospital to bring Hank home. With a bag packed with a clean change of clothes in his hand, Connor returned to St. Mercy Hospital with every intention of taking care of Hank until the senior detective made a full recovery.

"I fuckin' hate this." Hank grumbled from the backseat of the car. Laying on his right side and slightly on his abdomen to keep as much pressure off his healing wound as possible, the senior detective let out an annoyed sigh through his nose against as he rested his head against his curled up left arm. "Why're you driving so damn slow?"

"I'm going only ten miles under the speed limit." Connor defended his actions from the front seat as his eyes flicked upward to the rearview mirror to look at Hank's pale reflection. "And you're the one who cannot properly wear a seatbelt without suffering immense pain or discomfort."

"Have you been going ten below EVERY speed limit we've passed?"

"No, otherwise we'd be fifteen minutes slower than we already are."

"Oh, for cryin' out loud! Just get me home."

"We're pulling into the driveway." The deviant reaffirmed calmly as he made the final turn off the street. "I apologize for the delay."

"It's about damn time."

"The slow drive was a necessary precaution."

"Yeah, yeah. I get that. I just want to lay on my couch and not have a doctor or nurse poking at me every twenty minutes."

Moving as quickly as he dared Connor shifted the car into park and took the key from the ignition after turning off the engine. Exiting the vehicle smoothly Connor opened the rear passenger door of the car and then offered Hank his arm, and the healing senior detective readily accepted. As he gently pulled Hank out of the back of the car and onto his feet, Connor let Hank lean heavily against him as he regained his balance and compensated for his sore, aching back and abdomen while he moved.

"All right," Hank mumbled as he caught his balance and felt like he could walk forward. "let's get this over with."

"Lean against me." Connor instructed as he carefully positioned himself to properly help Hank to walk to the backdoor up the back porch steps without harming the healing detective in the process. "I'll help you to the couch and I'll leave you alone to rest."

"You'll let me sleep?"

"Yes." Connor unlocked the backdoor and pushed it open slowly as he made sure Hank was still standing without difficulty. "You need to rest."

Sumo came trotting up to the two detectives excitedly and seemed to immediately sense Hank's injury. Sitting down and out of the way obediently, Sumo waited for the two to pass through the doorway before exiting through the backdoor and into the backyard to take care of business.

Barely able to walk Hank leaned almost entirely on Connor and used his other hand to balance against the furniture and the walls as Connor helped him to lay on his right side on across the soft couch and finally rest his side against an even softer pillow under his head.

Connor slowly let go of Hank's arm and hovered over the couch curiously. "Comfortable?"

"About as comfortable as I can be considering I have massive incision healing in my back and my side."

"Do you want any pain killers or perhaps some ice?"

"No. I'll be fine. Thanks, kid."

Diligently Connor sat down on the coffee table next to the couch as he leaned over and lightly lifted up the back of Hank's Detroit Police Department hoodie to look at the white bandage beneath. The bandage itself wouldn't need to be changed for another four hours and it wasn't showing any sign of additional bleeding or drainage after being moved.

"Remember to keep your physical activity limited during the first three weeks of your recovery."

"Yeah... I was there when the doctor told me what to do."

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to bother you."

"You're not bothering me, son, you're just being overprotective."

Connor muttered to himself under his breath as he replaced the hoodie. "...Now you know how I feel."

"What was that?"

"Nothing. I'll prepare something appropriate for your temporary change in diet while you recover." Connor quickly covered for himself as he rose from the coffee table and walked into the kitchen. "You'll need additional protein to aid your recovery, as well as additional vegetables to improve your immune system."

"Great... Looking forward to a bland, boring diet for three weeks."

"And you'll need to increase your water consumption."

"Sure, fine. Just leave the plastic bottles behind so I can piss without leaving the couch every ten minutes!"

"...That's unsanitary."

"I was kidding, Connor."

"Oh." Connor felt a little embarrassed by his previous comment but he went about his set task of preparing something for Hank to eat when he was feeling more peckish. "I'll be as quiet as possible and you just rest. I believe Rose will stopping by within the hour to check in with you."

"Looking forward to it. Rose is one of the kindest people I've ever met."

"I agree. She is a very wonderful person."

"Hey, Connor," a curious thought popped up in Hank's mind as he watched the deviant busying himself in the kitchen. "when you took off yesterday where'd you go?"

Connor didn't want to talk about speaking up on Rampage's behalf and the sudden yellow tint of his L.E.D. proved it. Instead of answering directly he chose to answer without actually answering as he opened the refrigerator door and gathered select groceries to prepare a meal. "...I mailed the letter that Rampage requested to be sent to his son."

"And it was Rampage's day in court yesterday, right?"

"...Correct."

"So what did you say?"

Connor's yellow L.E.D. flashed to red as he feigned ignorance while also trying to avoid answering again. "Pardon?"

"Don't play dumb, Connor. I know you went to speak up for Rampage." There was a brief pause before Hank continued on. "I'm not mad or anything, I just want to know what you said."

Putting aside his task for the moment Connor returned to the livingroom to speak to Hank more directly and honestly. "I mentioned that Rampage turned himself in the night he and I fought, and then helped to save your life."

Hank smirked a little at the deviant as Connor stood in the doorway between the livingroom and kitchen like a scolded child. "That's good."

The comment caught Connor off guard and made his L.E.D. cycle in rapid yellow. "...It is?"

"Yeah. You spoke up for a guy that no one would listen to. You helped the court to see him as a person and not a lost cause. Good for you."

With his L.E.D. now blue again Connor let out a sigh of relief as he stepped closer to the couch and sat down next to Hank's legs. "I had to do something. I dislike feeling useless or..."

The way Connor trailed off immediately held Hank's attention. "Or... what?"

"Like I'm failing."

"Failing? How?"

"I... I wasn't there when you were-"

"For the last time, you didn't do anything wrong."

"It doesn't feel like it." Connor's eyes fell to Hank's back where the massive bandage was being concealed under the baggie hoodie. Sumo rushed back into the house through the backdoor and sat down on the floor beside the couch as he stared at Hank's face. "Hank... were you scared?"

"Scared?"

"When you were bleeding. Were you scared?"

"Yeah, son. I was." Hank admitted with a heavy voice as he lightly put his hand on Sumo's head. "I really was."

"...So was I."

Hank reached out his free hand and grabbed onto Connor's arm in a grounding manner. "It's okay. I'M okay."

"You were..." The guilt was still thick and Connor was on the verge of stressed out tears. "You were mutilated. A part of you is physically gone forever. How can you be so calm?"

"I'm not calm. You says that I am?"

"What?" Connor's L.E.D. flashed to red briefly before flickering back to yellow. "I don't understand."

"On the outside I seem calm," the seasoned detective explained in a cool, level tone of voice. "but on the inside I'm shaking. Years of training and experience help me to keep a calm facade even when I'm scared out of my mind."

"You get scared?" It was an incredible admission and Connor couldn't believe what Hank had said. "Even now?"

"Yeah, kid. I've never been through anything like this before. I've been there when other people have been attacked or crippled, but... the closest I've ever been to an injury anywhere near this was a knife in the shoulder when I was a rookie."

Connor had never known Hank to have little experience in anything, especially personal tragedy or misfortune. "Are you okay? I mean, are you really okay?" It was never easy to get Hank top open up emotionally, but Connor was compelled to ask anyway. "...You know, beyond your injury, I mean."

"...No. But I will be." Tears began to form in Hank's own eyes as he admitted his fear to the empathetic and compassionate deviant that he had taken in as his son. "At least, I think I will be. Eventually. It's going to be a while before I know." Hank let a little laugh escape his lips as he contemplated his own mindset compared to that of Connor's mindset. "That's the problem with humanity as a whole, son; we fear uncertainty and try to control the uncontrollable."

"Hank," determined to keep the senior detective calm Connor grabbed onto Hank's hand and squeezed it once for reassurance. "you will be okay. I know it."

"How can you be so sure? Humans are as fickle as they are unpredictable, and they're dangerous. More dangerous than any machine ever could be."

"I'm sure because you've helped me to find a way to be okay with myself over time, and I will do the same for you." Connor gave Hank a comforting, sincere smile of reassurance as his L.E.D. finally returned to blue. "I promise. You're my friend AND my father."

"That's right." Feeling relieved Hank was truly grateful to have the deviant in his life and a family to call his own again. "Thanks, son."

"You're welcome... dad."

"Now, let's stop with the sappy stuff and take a moment to breathe."

"Very well." Connor took the hint and back off for a moment. "Would you like vegetable soup or chicken soup for dinner tonight?"

Laughing a little Hank shook his head and knew that asking for a large pizza would be out of the question. "Well, I feel like living dangerously. Let's go for the vegetable soup for now."

-next chapter-