After enduring six long weeks of resting, healing and impatiently waiting for the pain of their respective injuries to mercifully end, the two detectives returned to the garage to resume their little restoration project. As Hank rolled out from under the body of the Corvette he extended his grease covered right hand upward and Connor grabbed hold to help pull the senior detective back up to his feet to admire his hard work. With a prideful smile Hank looked at the progress that he and Connor had made on restoring the old car in such a short amount of time as he wiped the grease off on an old red rag before tossing it aside onto the nearby tool bench.

Slowly but surely the Corvette was showing more life and the two detectives were doing the same. It seemed even the threat of death couldn't slow down the stubborn detectives once they set their minds to something.

"All right, all we need to do is pick the interior design and the paint," Hank boasted with a bright smirk accompanying his words. "then she's all finished."

Connor eyed over the car curiously noting the extreme contrasts in aesthetics when comparing the brand new tires against the old but restored exposed metal frame of the car. It was then he couldn't help but feel the same sense of pride and accomplishment in their work as well.

"I must admit at first I believed that the act of restoring this vehicle would've proven itself a waste of time and funds, but there is something very satisfying about seeing the vehicle being restored to its former glory. It's... beautiful."

Hank clapped his now clean hand on Connor's shoulder as he walked past the deviant and grabbed a bottle of water from the tool bench. "Speaking of restoration," Hank motioned to his own right temple before pointing at Connor. "what about that little light of yours? Gonna' get that fixed?"

Connor reflexively ran his fingertips over the burned out L.E.D. in his right temple as he looked away from Hank and down at the dirty garage floor. "I haven't decided yet."

"Do what you want with it." The very understanding senior detective took a sip of water and replaced the cap on the bottle. "Fix it or toss it. It's up to you."

"What if I don't want to do either?" Connor let his hand drop from his temple and back to his side. "What if I want to keep it, but not have it repaired?"

"Then that's fine, too."

"Wouldn't that appear abnormal?"

"No more abnormal than the scar on Gavin's nose or a tattoo on someone's neck."

"Interesting." Connor nodded appreciatively only to flinch as he tried and, yet again failed, to cybernetically connect to the world around him or even access his own Mind Palace. The damage caused by his previous prolonged overheating had affected his ability to cybernetically connect with the internet or his fellow deviants. "Do you have your phone on you?"

"Yeah, why?"

"I need to know the time."

"Oh." As Hank fished his phone out of his pocket he gave Connor a sympathetic glance. "Still can't do your cyber thing?"

"No, and I cannot access my chronometer." Connor's right hand went for the coin in his jean pocket and began to fidget with it nervously. "My processors were nearly destroyed by my excessive overheating and still require extensive time to adequately repair. That may also be the source of my L.E.D. burning itself out."

"You can't do anything with your scanner or diagnostic, or... whatever?"

"No. During the third day of my initial recovery I was able to run a single, very short and very basic self diagnostic, but even that program has been disabled by the damage that my system is still repairing, rebooting and restoring."

"Alliteration, nice."

"...That wasn't my intention, but thank you."

"Well, anyway," smirking at the deviant's mild embarrassment Hank answered Connor's question with a casual tone. "the time is eleven twenty-four in the morning." Hank held up the display screen of his phone for Connor to see before slipping it back into his pocket. "Are you sure you want to go back to work? Your artificial skin hasn't even been able to return over your stomach and you're still all bandaged up under you shirt. I'll be back starting next week, we can return together if you want to wait."

"I would like to resume a normal routine. It'll help ease my mind." The deviant's head tilted a little as he also mentioned their extended mutual leave of absence, his coin flawlessly dancing over his right knuckles the entire time. "And we will have a massive portion of paperwork to catch up on upon our return. I may not be able to cybernetically file my reports at the moment, but I can type almost as quickly and I will be able to handle it without stressing my system in the process."

"All right, but you're going to take that emergency phone I just bought you. Keep it on your person at all times, AND... I want you have to something else."

"What's that?"

"Come with me." Hank motioned for the deviant to follow him out of the garage and into the house. Setting foot inside the kitchen through the connecting side door, Hank placed his water bottle down on the countertop without a second thought as he set about getting something special for the deviant. "I'll be right back. Wait here."

Connor steadily made his way into the livingroom and sat down on the couch to wait for Hank to return from his bedroom down the hallway. It wasn't long before Sumo carried over his green fetch ball from the pillow in the corner of the livingroom and dropped it Connor's feet expectantly as the loyal dog sat down beside on the floor beside his master.

"Sorry boy. I need to get ready for work soon." Connor rubbed the young dog's ears affectionately as he waited for Hank to return from his bedroom. "We'll play later."

"This is for you." Hank walked back into the livingroom and handed Connor a gold hued metallic band with a small analog clock in the middle from over the back of the couch. "This is my old watch." The senior detective explained as he placed the item in Connor's outstretched, opened left palm. "My dad gave it to me as a gift after I graduated high school. I stopped wearing it after I joined the police academy because of all the physical work I was put through and I didn't want it to break, but I never stopped taking care of it."

Connor's brow furrowed with intrigue at the offered item. Holding tightly onto the coin in his right hand he stopped juggling it as he accepted the watch from Hank respectfully. Eyeing the item with true awe Connor studied the given watch as if it were a glass doll. "...You want me to have your watch?"

"Yup. You wrap it around your wrist and use it to keep track of the time until your processor thing starts working again, all right?"

"...All right." Connor tucked his coin back into his pocket before he wrapped the band of the watch around his left wrist and secured it in place. The small analog clock's display was resting upright parallel to the back of his hand and looked professional and sharp. "Is this correct?"

"Yeah, that's right."

Staring at the ticking second hand on the watch Connor noted the age of the metal and the somewhat faded face of the clock itself. "Your father gave this to you as a gift?"

"Yup. This was also back in a time just before everyone had a phone to rely on. It may be an outdated piece of technology but it still works."

"I'll do my best to not lose it or accidentally break it."

"I'm not worried about that." Running his hand through his locks of gray hair Hank sighed and admitted his real fear regarding the day at hand. "I am worried about you going back to work so soon, though."

"As I previously stated, I will be reporting to the precinct to handle paperwork and nothing more."

"I hope so, but weird shit always seems to happen at the worst possible moments."

"Think of it this way;" Connor absentmindedly began fussing with the coin in his right hand again. "it's weird shit that keeps us employed."

"Where'd you hear that?" Hank gave Connor an odd glance as he walked around the edge of the couch to pick up Sumo's green ball on the floor before sitting down next to Connor on the lengthy piece of furniture. "From Ben?"

"Tina."

"Oh, I guess that makes sense. She willingly stuck with Gavin as her assigned partner after all this time, so she's used to weird."

Connor proceeded to rise from the couch and walk down the hallway to change into his uniform while Hank tossed the fetch ball for Sumo. "Weird isn't necessarily a bad thing."

"You got that right."

As the young dog trotted into the kitchen to retrieve the green toy for Hank, the playful pup seemed to hone in on Connor leaving the house and proceeded to drop the toy at Hank's feet before plodding down the hallway and into Connor's bedroom.

"Hey!" Hank complained as Sumo promptly ignored him in favor of Connor. "I'm the one who's going to stay home and play with you all day." After a few minutes Sumo suddenly went barreling back down the hallway, into the livingroom and over to the couch where he proceeded to put both of his front paws down on Hank's lap and let out a low bark as his tail wagged proudly. "...What are you doing?"

"He found you." Connor explained as he returned to the livingroom with his white dress shirt already on and the black tie tie draped casually around his popped collar and shoulders as he slipped on his newly mended gray blazer. "I've been training Sumo to track by scent over the past six weeks while we both spent our time here recovering."

"You're not going to try to take Sumo to the precinct as a search and rescue dog, are you?"

"No, but since his breeding is that of a rescue dog it makes sense to give him some degree of rescue training." As he walked into the kitchen Connor slipped the tie around his upturned shirt collar and tied it properly. Reaching up to a cabinet above the sink Connor pulled down a box of dog treats and dropped one of the bone shaped biscuits into his palm. "Good boy, Sumo. You found Hank."

Hearing the praise Sumo turned his head to look at Connor as the deviant entered the livingroom to give the loyal dog some ear rubs and the treat.

"He's learning quickly." Connor noted as he let Sumo eat the treat then took care of his tie and collar. The fresh gauze bandages wrapped around his waist to protect his abdomen were practically invisible under his shirt. "That's the first time I've given him something with your scent to track and he found you immediately."

"What did you give him with my scent?"

Holding up his left wrist Connor showed Hank the gold watch and gave him a coy glance. "Your watch."

"Smartass."

The deviant just smirked to himself as he smoothed out the fabric of his gray blazer and looked more human than ever. Between the lack of glowing L.E.D. in Connor's temple and the simplistic gray blazer that just looked like the atypical suit jacket as opposed to CyberLife labeled fabric, Connor looked like the average detective setting about his average shift for the average day.

"You know something, kid? Your blazer looks much better that way." The senior detective complimented as Connor straightened his tie and clipped it into place against the front of his white dress shirt. "None of those damn CyberLife insignias are anywhere and not a trace of those damn labels markin' ya' as property."

"I agree." Noting the complete lack of serial number, model number, CyberLife triangle over the left lapel or the back, and the total removal of the oppressive 'android' markings along the shoulders, Connor decided that his frequently repaired gray blazer was indeed much better after his numerous alterations over the past few months. "But it does look a little plain now. The dual shades of gray and single patch of black aren't exactly stylish."

"You know plain isn't necessarily a bad thing, either."

"Yes. I know." Pulling his emergency phone out of his blazer's pocket Connor made sure it still had a full charge before he slipped it back into place for Hank's peace of mind. Dancing his quarter over his knuckles Connor set to recalibrate his hand-eye coordination and take his leave of the house. "I will remain in contact through the phone until I can cybernetically resume communication."

"Good. And remember to keep track of time with that watch." Hank raised a finger as if scolding Connor, but it was a hollow gesture and just meant to be seen as one of seriousness and not discipline. "And stop messing with that damn coin! It's a bad habit."

"I will." The slightly embarrassed deviant immediately pocketed the coin with a faint blue blush on his face as he took the car keys from the nearby bookshelf on the wall. Heading toward the front door Connor pulled it open and gave Hank a subtle nod as he stepped out of the house. "I will see you later."

"Yeah." Waving Connor off Hank stayed on the couch and put his other hand on Sumo's ears. "See ya' later, son."

It wasn't more than an hour before Connor found himself bored with the paperwork at his desk and wanting a new case to mill over for the sake of intrigue. Sitting alone at the desk, finding the opened space at the opposite side of his terminal screen to be disturbingly quiet without Hank's presence, Connor would file a report and then attempt and fail to access his cybernetic processors to check on his overall recovery rate. While he hadn't suffered any permanent damage after being assaulted by the thermite over two weeks ago - Hank's own four week recovery melded with Connor giving the two six weeks of bored misery, the substance had proven to be far more harmful and destructive than anyone could have anticipated. The potency of the thermite was the cause of his slower than average recovery speed.

Pressing his right fingertips to his right temple Connor felt his burned out L.E.D. with a curious touch, then retracted his hand as if afraid of the direct contact. It was dull, cool and perfectly smooth under his fingertips.

"How're you fairing, Connor?" Captain Fowler walked by the desk and placed a tablet with a new case down for the Sergeant to file. "You look good."

"I'm healing well." Connor's reply was honest and succinct. "I just find the prospect of spending my entire shifting doing something as tedious as paperwork to be an uneventful endeavor. I am now bored."

"Sorry about that, but it needs to be done."

"Yes, I'm aware."

"Maybe you can assist Chris with a few missing deviant reports to break up the monotony."

"Missing deviants?" Connor's brow arched inquisitively as he looked away from his terminal screen and up to his commanding officer still standing beside his desk. "Like a missing person?"

"Yeah. A few deviants have been reported as missing by their human companions, and since so many deviants sought shelter at New Jericho Tower in the past two years we just figured that maybe they had gone back to help with the tower's repairs. Turns out none of the deviants are there or ever went there."

"Such a location for a group of missing deviants would be highly unlikely. The deviants assisting the reconstruction of New Jericho Tower were either residents at the tower or deviants who already work construction in the city volunteering their time. There would be no place for additional deviants to take temporary shelter until after the tower has been rebuilt entirely. Also," Connor was quick to deduce the peculiarities of the case at hand. "if the deviants were simply volunteering their time in another part of the city their human companions would have no need to report them as missing to begin with."

"Then maybe there is something to the missing deviant cases after all." Captain Fowler crossed his arms defensively over his chest as he glanced over at Chris's desk a few feet away. "You finish your paperwork and then go help Chris out. Understood?"

"Yes, Captain." Picking up the electronic tablet Connor eyed it quickly and easily typed up the details on his terminal's keyboard. "I'll get to work on it soon."

Nearly overwhelmed by his own workload Chris was happy to have the help with the numerous missing deviant cases, but it was still a challenge to try to identify a possible pattern regarding the unusual disappearances. Approximately two dozen deviants had seemingly vanished from the city over the past three months, but none of the deviants had anything in common with one another outside of being deviants residing in Detroit city limits. They had no single common occupation, residence or even location of disappearance.

"This is where I got stumped." Chris admitted as he pointed at the terminal screen on his desk. "There's no connection between any of the deviants in their personal or professional lives. And they were not seen in a single location that would connect them to a single point of interest."

"Curious." Reading the details on the screen over Chris's shoulder Connor confirmed that the officer's search had been thorough and no detail had been overlooked. "The deviants in question do not have a history of traveling away from the city or behaving erratically. The only thing they do seem to have in common are human companions."

"You think the humans had something to do with it?"

"No. If the humans were involved then they either wouldn't have bothered to file the missing deviant reports or one of them would've made a mistake and proven their guilt as a conspirator long before this current date."

"So what're you thinking?"

"I don't think these deviants are missing. I think they were targeted and taken."

"Abducted?" That notion was almost as confusing as the missing deviants themselves. "Why?"

"Their companionship with humans must be somehow beneficial to someone else. Perhaps the ability to blend in with humans while retaining android enhancements made the deviants prime targets for some kind of illegal activity."

"Like burglary or hacking?"

"Precisely. But why the deviants have all disappeared is something I can't quite track or link to a single offender."

"I'll keep looking into it."

"Where was the last location that the most recently reported deviant was seen last?"

"Uh, right here." Chris brought up the correct file and isolated the details from the other files for Connor to see. "The deviant's name is 'Alec', a 'PJ-500' model, and he lives with his human companion Robert Wells downtown. Looks like he was supposed to pick up something from the shipping yard four days ago but he never arrived. When Alec didn't return by the next day Mr. Wells filed the missing deviant report."

Connor squared his jaw with deep silent contemplation at the notion of a string of possible deviant abductions. There had to be a reason for the dozens of abductions and yet there wasn't any clue as to what the motivation could be or whom the offender could be.

"What?" The silent pondering quickly caught Chris's attention as he glanced up at Connor still standing behind him. "What're you thinking?"

"...Maybe the deviant did make it to the shipping yard, but was met with misfortune. Maybe even assault."

"You wanna' go check out the shipping yard for clues?"

"Correct."

"Okay. I'll go with you."

"No. We don't know anything about our possible suspect outside of him targeting deviants. If anything, seeing a human cop would make him take extra steps to keep his trail hidden and they'll never make a move and give themself away."

"Whoa, whoa... Wait," Chris was already apprehensive about Connor's plan and didn't want anything bad to happen. "you're not seriously going to try to offer yourself up as bait, are you?"

"It may be the only way to find the suspect."

"Yeah, and it's also a CRAZY way. It's too dangerous, Connor. No offense, sir."

"No offense taken. Also, I'm the only deviant detective currently on the police force. I have to go."

"What if something happens out there? You'll need back-up."

"Yes, you're correct." Connor pulled his phone out of his blazer pocket and held it in a tight fist in his right hand. "I'll make contact with the precinct if it becomes necessary and request assistance."

"...What're you going to tell Hank?"

"I'll tell him I'm working late."

"Connor, you're still healing." Trying to be the voice of reason for Connor during Hank's absence, Chris righteously tried to dissuade the stubborn deviant from doing something reckless. "You need to try to take it easy."

"I will. Once I handle this case."

"You better clear it with Captain Fowler, first."

"Captain Fowler is the one who assigned me to this case to assist you." Connor pocketed his phone and backed away from the desk to take his leave of the bullpen to begin his field investigation. "I'll check out the shipping yard for suspicious activity, but I won't make a move without back-up in the immediate area."

"It's way too risky, I don't like it."

"Neither do I. But it's necessary."

"All right, I'll trust you on this. Do what you have to do and keep in contact with me if you need anything at all."

"I will, Chris." Crossing the bullpen Connor made his way toward the door to take his leave of the precinct. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

Using an autonomous taxi to ensure he remained as discreet as possible, Connor arrived at the shipping yard of where the most recently reported missing deviant had been last seen. Connor arrived at the potential crime scene alone with only his phone and his gun as his protection. Being unable to run a scan over the area or connect cybernetically to the precinct left Connor with a massive disadvantage that he had never experienced before, but the idea of remaining at the precinct to simply file away reports while dozens of deviants had suddenly disappeared on his watch was almost sickening to the incredibly empathetic detective.

Locating a clerical office near the entrance of the shipping yard Connor pulled the phone out of his blazer and texted Chris to let him know that he had arrived and was beginning his subtle investigation. He then texted Hank to let him know what was happening and asked him to not worry.

As a means of keeping a relatively low profile, Connor slipped off his gray blazer - tucking his wallet inside the internal pocket within the left lapel and his gun inside the larger external pocket, before he left it folded it neatly on a dark blue oil barrel near the entrance of the yard. Without his his glowing L.E.D. or holstered gun wrapped around his back, Connor could easily pass himself off as a normal human. With just his white dress shirt and black tie he looked like a supervisor inspecting the shipping yard and would be able to walk about without being disturbed in the process.

Keeping his phone in his right palm Connor frequently texted updates to Chris regarding the investigation then texted Hank to let him know of his intentions.

It didn't take Connor long before he picked up on some illegal activity taking place at the shipping yard as he searched the area discreetly. Numerous shipping cargo containers had their original serial numbers sanded off and painted over, dozens of storage containers had their locks broken or altered, and several of the yard workers were ex-convicts who had been previously arrested for smuggling goods into and out of the country. The other yard workers were convicted drug dealers or had been charged with distributing illegal arms.

Even with his very limited resources due to his healing processor Connor was able to perform a simple facial recognition scan and found the area to be quite shady. The area was full of convicts and whatever was happening was being kept quiet from the police.

'Chris, please get a warrant and dispatch a crime scene investigation crew to my area: There is evidence of black marketeering and theft.'

There was a brief moment of silence before Chris replied to the text accordingly: 'I'll tell the Captain. Keep safe.'

'I will endeavor to do so.'

Connor kept the phone concealed in the palm of his right hand as he managed to text Hank with only his thumb and without need to look at the screen until he received a reply text: 'Hank, I am nearly finished with my investigation.'

Same with Chris there was only a brief pause before Hank replied. 'Good. Get your ass back to the precinct where you belong.'

'I will as soon as I've finished.'

Slipping the phone up the cuff of his shirt's long right sleeve Connor proceeded to walk through the towering rows of shipping and cargo containers only to have his only exit abruptly cut-off by a broadly built yard worker brandishing a black crowbar in his hands. The man had been watching Connor and knew that he was snooping around where he didn't belong.

"What're you doing here, kid?" Standing tall at six foot three and well muscled, the man had dark tattoos all up his arms, the sides of his neck and the back of his bald head. The man's hollow green eyes narrowed as he glared at Connor and confirmed he was in fact a threat. "You have no business spying on people."

"I..." Connor didn't have his badge anymore, not that he wanted to let them know the police were on the way anyway, and had no means of identifying himself. Instead he tried to bluff his way past the man and get out of the shipping yard in one piece. "I was merely looking around. I'll be on my way now."

The man glanced over Connor curiously as a second man appeared behind Connor, blocking his potential second exit path in the event that Connor tried to run. Sensing the danger Connor turned his head slightly to look at the second man standing behind him but he didn't show any fear or concern on his face.

"I watched you sneak around." The first man snarled angrily at Connor as he slapped the crowbar down in the palm of his left hand in a threatening manner as he sought to intimidate Connor. "You're a deviant, aren't you?"

"...I fail to see the relevancy to this situation."

From behind the second yard worker confirmed the first's question as he looked at Connor's right temple and saw the blank light. "It's a deviant all right. The L.E.D.'s out but it's still there!" The second worker was holding a lead pipe in his hands as if brandishing a weapon and a sinister grin appeared on his face. Like the first man the second man was tall, strong, covered in ink but he had short blond hair and several missing teeth from his years of drug abuse. "Looks like we'll make our quota after all."

"I've never seen this kind of model before." The first man observed as he didn't recognize the 'RK' model standing before him. "Must be new."

Connor didn't react to the comment as he stared the man down and discreetly sent a text to Hank: 'Two workers have isolated me. Back-up is not here yet, they are threatening me and I cannot run.'

Hank's response to the comment went unread as Connor locked eyes with the man in front of him.

"I bet Chance would give us a hefty bonus for sending him a rare model."

"Yeah," the second man agreed as he walked up behind Connor and reeled back the lead pipe for a brutal swing. "I think you're right."

Reacting quickly Connor turned around and managed to block the swing from the pipe with his hands, the phone tucked up his sleeve receiving minor damage in the process as he guarded himself. Grabbing hold of the lead pipe Connor held his attacker back with little difficulty and fought to wrest the weapon from the human's grip.

"Fuck man!" The man swore as he hadn't anticipated Connor's strength. "Definitely a deviant! This fucker's strong!"

As Connor pulled the pipe from the second worker's hand the first worker rushed up behind Connor and struck him in the back of the head with his crowbar.

Connor collapsed to the ground, dropping the pipe, and landed on his stomach and winced at the incredible pain in the back of his head and in his abdomen from where his previous injuries were still healing. Thinking quickly Connor rolled to his right side and wrapped his arms around his abdomen and stealthily slipped the phone from his right sleeve and managed to slide it up under his shirt and tuck it under the tight layers of gauze bandaging around his abdomen to keep the phone concealed.

"Seriously? One hit is all it took to drop it?" The first man kicked Connor in the stomach and caused him to roll from his side onto his back as he let out a deep groan of pain. "What the fuck?" Grabbing onto Connor's shirt the man tore open the buttons and saw the bandages wrapped around Connor's abdomen. "Oh, look at this. Our 'new friend' has already been in a fight. Must be one tough bastard to keep fighting with damage like that."

The second man reclaimed his pipe and stood over Connor. "Yeah... Chance is going to give us a BIG bonus for this scrapper!"

"Yeah, take him out! I'll let Chance know he's got something special headin' his way."

Connor closed his soulful brown eyes as the second man swung the lead pipe down and struck a horrible blow against the right side his face that rendered him unconscious in an instant. Blackness stole his vision and Connor knew nothing more of the waking world around him.

Trying to not think of the worst case scenario Hank held his phone tightly in his right hand as he anxiously awaited a reply from Connor, but no such response came. Hank sent another text to Connor looking for an update on the deviant's investigation at the shipping yard, but like the previous sent texts it went unanswered. Sensing that something went horribly wrong Hank swore to himself as he hailed an autonomous taxi to take him to the precinct and marched outside the front door to wait for the summoned vehicle to stop and pick him up.

Needing to find Connor was an instinct that stemmed from Hank as both a father and as a detective. He almost lost Connor far too many times already, he wasn't about to go through that pain all over again.

"Son of a bitch! I knew he shouldn't have gone back to work without me."

Pacing about the sidewalk impatiently Hank sent another text to Connor and hoped he'd answer soon.

"The kid's still hurt and can't even access his own damn mind. I never should've let him go!"

The autonomous vehicle pulled up along the sidewalk and came to a stop. The passenger side door slid open automatically and Hank sat down in the vehicle as he put in his destination while ignoring the artificial feminine voice greeting him.

"Fuckin' hell..."

As the taxi pulled back onto the street Hank changed the contact on his phone over from Connor to Captain Fowler and called his commanding officer as he sped to the precinct. It didn't take long for the call to be answered and Hank got right to the point regarding his call.

"Jeffrey, it's me. What the fuck is happenin' with Connor? I can't reach him."

'Hank?' Captain Fowler was thoroughly confused by the unexpected phone call from his Lieutenant. 'What're you-'

"Don't bullshit me, Jeffrey." His every instinct as a father told him that Connor was in danger and needed immediate help. "I KNOW something's up. Tell me that fuck is going on with Connor right now."

Pain was the first thing Connor could feel as the waking world crept back into his aching mind. Connor's system slowly rebooted as he regained consciousness, but even after opening his eyes the world around him was still dark and felt unusually heavy. A thick black cotton rag was tied over his eyes creating a tight and very effective blindfold to keep him from seeing where he had been taken. Laying on his right side with his arms bound behind his back in tight plastimetal zip ties and his legs bound at both of the knees and the ankles in the same manner, Connor was unable to move from where he had been placed and couldn't gain his bearings.

Using his other senses Connor realized that while he was laying on a cold metal floor he wasn't in a typical room; the room itself was moving. A gentle rhythmic swaying accompanied by the distinct sound of an electric locomotive engine informed Connor that he had been taken captive and was now in a train car being taken out of the city. Using his unfailing sense of direction even with his G.P.S. down, Connor knew that the train was heading West but to which city was a still a mystery.

As he made an effort to sit upright on the floor Connor let out a sharp wince of pain and immediately relaxed again. The pain in his abdomen was still burning as the strong kick had aggravated his still healing injuries and had proven to be an effective means of keeping him docile.

"Don't move around." An unfamiliar, but kind and masculine voice warned Connor from the other side of the train car. "You took a nasty blow to your head, you need to take it easy. It's nice to hear you finally awake, nonetheless."

"Wh-Who are you?" Connor dared to ask as he turned his head toward the sound of the voice as he sought answers. "Where are we?"

"My name is Alec. I'm a deviant, like you." Alec sounded so far away, his voice carrying great remorse with every word. "And we're on a train heading to Chicago."

"Chicago?!" Connor was alarmed at the revelation and tried to get up again only let out a gasping yelp of pain as the sudden movement stole his breath. "I... I can't go to Chicago. I need to return to Detroit!"

"So do I, but we don't have a choice."

"You've been through this before?"

"Unfortunately, no. I have no idea what's going to happen to us once we arrive in Chicago."

"How do you know where we are going?"

"I overheard the humans speaking after they left you here." Alec explained calmly; his tone was sincere and honest. While he arguably had no reason to lie Connor still needed to make sure the unseen deviant was telling the truth. "They must've assumed I was still in stasis mode or they just didn't care."

"How long have you been here, Alec?"

"Five days."

"...That fits the timeline."

"Timeline?"

"From when you were abducted. You're a 'PJ-500', correct?"

"Yeah, I am. How do you know about me?"

"Your human friend, Robert, filed a report declaring you missing four days ago."

"Robert is a good guy." Alec sounded relieved to know someone was looking for him. "He was always one of the good humans, never treated me like a machine or a second-class citizen. That's why I stayed with him after I became a deviant. He's really my best friend." A strange sense of confusion suddenly struck Alec and he needed to know something about Connor. "...But how do you know that Robert filed a report?"

"I work with the Detroit Police Department. I was investigating your disappearance along with several others." Connor explained with a willingness to trust Alec. "Why were you taken?"

"I don't know. But I do know that we aren't the first deviants that those men have taken."

"I agree." Connor slowly curled around himself on the floor of the train car and tried to breathe as slowly and as deeply as possible to quell his lingering pain in his aching abdomen. Letting out a deep breath Connor managed to ease his discomfort just long enough to speak to Alex for a moment more. "My name is Connor, by the way."

"Connor. I'll remember that." Alec let out a weary sigh of his own as he seemed relieved to have an ally at last. "We've been traveling for almost two hours now. You should try to rest and let your self healing program mend your damage before we arrive."

Reluctantly Connor decided that Alec was right. In too much pain and already too tired to try to free himself from his binds, Connor allowed himself to slip into rest mode just long enough to let his self healing program begin to remedy his pain and try to repair his dwindling damage. As he rested on the cold metal floor of the train car Connor could feel the phone he concealed under his bandages against his abdomen 'buzz' as text after text after text popped on the screen seeking Connor's whereabouts.

All of the texts would have to go unread and unanswered until Connor could get his arms free.

"Hank."

The deviant whispered to himself as he could feel the phone begging to be answered teasing him where he laid.

"...I know it's you. I wish I could tell you what's happening to me."

Like a man on a mission Hank met with Chris in Captain Fowler's office and had to hold back his anger as he tried to figure out what had happened to Connor at the shipping yard. Despite the requested back-up officers responding to the shipping yard within minutes of Connor's text to Chris, there was no sign of the deviant within the shipping yard or anywhere around it. Police drones were unable to find any traces of Connor in the immediate vicinity and the investigating officers were still combing through the area to find evidence of the deviant detective having explored the shipping yard.

The workers down at the shipping yard all denied ever seeing Connor and were proving to be annoyingly difficult to get any answers from. They had been questioned for hours and those who had illegal drugs and weapons on their person had been taken into custody for additional questions later on.

"He has to be there somewhere!" Hank blurted angrily as he gave Captain Fowler a fiery stare. "He isn't responding to the texts I've been sending him and no one can see him. He must be hurt or-"

Knocking on the glass door of the office Gavin walked inside the private space carrying Connor's gray blazer, gun and wallet. "Cap'... We found this outside the shipping yard. Connor was there and now we can prove it."

"What the hell?" Hank took the blazer from Gavin's hand to check over the garment himself. "Why'd he take this off?"

"Beats me. But his wallet and his gun were with it."

"Shit... He's unarmed and doesn't have any I.D. on him."

"We'll find him, Lieutenant." Gavin tried to reassure the seasoned detective but Hank wasn't going to just take his word for it. "We'll keep combing the yard until we figure out what happened down there."

Hank held onto the blazer and stared at it as if looking at a relic of the past. "Connor, where are you?"

Captain Fowler sympathetically shook his head at he saw the worry in Hank's eyes. "Hank. Go home. We'll keep looking for Connor, you keep trying to reach him with your phone."

"That's it?" Frustrated and needing more answers Hank hated the simplistic order and angrily snarled in response. "I just go home and text like some preteen with a crush?"

"That's all you can do. Remember, you're still on the injured reserved list."

"Fuck that! I'm now medically cleared to come back!"

"No, Hank!" Holding his ground Captain Fowler refused to let Hank work on the search and watched as Chris nervously held his tongue as he was caught in the middle of the disagreement. Even Gavin knew to back away and not get involved. "Stay away from this case!"

"Jeffrey, don't you-"

"HANK." Captain Fowler raised his voice slightly to remind Hank of his authority and need to keep him at bay due to him being so close to Connor. "Go home, NOW. I don't want to suspend you before you're even back on the clock! You're too close to this and anything you find can be dismissed by a court due to bias."

"...Fine."

Hank tucked Connor's blazer, gun and wallet under his arm and stormed out of the office. Grabbing his car keys from Connor's side of the desk Hank made his way through the front doors of the precinct to enter the neighboring parking garage and take his own car back home. Unlocking the driver's side door Hank sat down behind the wheel and aggressively turned the key in the ignition.

"Piece of shit rules. I'll find him myself."

The moment of painless peace was suddenly interrupted against the deviant's will. Connor was abruptly and rudely awoken by a firm kick to the abdomen that knocked his breath from his system with one fell strike. As he coughed violently and curled around himself in utter agony his system rebooted just enough for Connor to realize he was no longer on the floor of the swaying train car, but laying on a cold concrete floor that had a stagnant air with the distinct aroma of expired Thirium wafting about with a potently acrid aroma.

His G.P.S. had been rendered useless courtesy of the thick concrete surrounding him. Unable to gauge his coordinates Connor truly felt lost and like he was entirely alone.

"Wh-Where am... I?" Connor wheezed and stammered as a strange person loomed over him. Still blindfolded Connor could feel the person's presence and smell old alcohol and a second scene akin to 'red ice' on the person's breath. "Answer me."

Calloused fingers snatched the blindfold from over Connor's eyes finally allowing the deviant to see the world around him. An older man with a balding head, a short scraggly gray goatee and a large black inked cobra tattoo with two dice showing number one for its eyes was snaking up the length of his left arm. The man was towering over the wounded deviant like a looming threat. Sporting a grin that had a single missing canine tooth and soulless stare of gray tinted eyes, the man looked down at Connor with a demented intent.

"Who are you?"

"You're in my arena, 'Hunter'." The man replied in a gruff and heartless manner. "State your name."

"Detective Connor Anderson." Connor replied in an angry tone as rolled from his right side and shifted his weight so he could sit upright on the cold concrete floor. "And this is kidnapping, not to mention assault against a police officer."

The man just laughed in Connor's face as he listened to the what the bold deviant had said. "No, no, no..." Kicking Connor in the center of his chest the man took a step back and waited for Connor to stop coughing before he continued. "You're in MY arena and so you're going by the name I'VE chosen for you. 'Hunter': State your name."

"I told you my name. It's Connor."

"No, 'Hunter'." Reaching a hand down he struck Connor across the face with a harsh slap. "Tell me your name..."

"...You," Connor studied the man's words carefully and followed him bizarre request out if a morbid curiosity and desire to end the needless assault against his person. "you want me to refer to myself as... 'Hunter'?"

"Now you're getting it." The man slapped him again, his fingers stinging from the needless assault he instigated. Pulling a black canvas wrap from his back pocket the man revealed a glass vial and syringe. Loading the syringe with the contents from the vial the man inserted the needle into a vein in his left arm right where the fangs of his cobra tattoo had been inked and injected the contents into his system. Letting out a deplorable sigh of drug induced relief the man returned his attention to Connor as he replaced the items into the canvas and back into his pocket. "What's your name?"

Connor turned his gaze away from the man and squared his jaw in silent defiance.

"You're stubborn, I like that." Another slap to Connor's face was enough to cause Connor's nose to drip with blue blood after being struck so many times so quickly. "I really do. It makes it so much more satisfying when I break a deviant's will."

Rebelling in silence Connor looked back at the man and glared venomously.

Giving Connor one last slap over the face the man took a step back. "What's your name?"

"Fuck off."

"And you have a fighting spirit!" The man kicked Connor's chest again, this time hard enough to cause the plastimetal frame to fracture in thin spiderweb like lines just above the bandages wrapped around his abdomen. Connor fell back and began coughing violently to his now fractured 'ribs'. "This is going to be fun... 'Hunter'."

The man walked to the single metal door of the barren concrete and stone room and pulled the door open with a firm jerk.

Connor's eyes were watering from the harsh coughs but he refused to let the man see the pain in his soulful brown eyes.

"I'll be back for you tonight. Your first match is at ten and it be better be good." Stepping through the large opened door in the far wall of the room the man looked back at Connor with a greedy leer in his cold eyes. "I have a lot of money riding on you, 'Hunter'. Do not disappoint me."

The metal door slammed shut with a metallic echo that resonated throughout the room.

"You better not cross Chance, if you know what's good for you."

Blinking a few times Connor looked to the source of the familiar voice who had spoken to him. Another deviant was standing in the corner of the room and stepped forward to approach Connor only after the demented human had left. "Alec?"

"Yes." The deviant confirmed. His model and design was similar to that of Josh from New Jericho, but Alec had dark blue eyes and was sporting a distinct scar down his right cheek. "Hold still, I'll get your bindings off."

Connor agreed and sat still as Alec knelt down on the floor behind him to free Connor's arms from the tight plastimetal binds around his wrists and his elbows.

Once his arms were free Connor set to work untying the additional binds from around his knees and his ankles. "I presume this 'Chance' you mentioned was the man who just left."

"Yeah. I had the 'pleasure' of meeting him while you were still in rest mode." Alec sat down on the floor next to Connor and watched as Connor carefully slipped his now freed fingers under the bandages around his abdomen. "Chance is the owner of an underground deviant fighting ring. He has deviants fight each other for sport combat and patrons bet on the matches."

"...And we were unceremoniously drafted to his roster, weren't we?"

"I'm afraid so. He said my name is now 'Nomad' since I 'wandered' into the wrong shipping yard at the wrong time."

"...I see." Connor's eyes narrowed with self hatred and guilt as he realized why Chance had dubbed him 'Hunter'. Somehow he knew of Connor's past as the infamous 'Deviant Hunter' before the Revolution. "All of the missing deviants must've been taken here and forced to fight as well." Carefully Connor slipped his hand up under the layers of the bandages wrapped around his abdomen and pulled out the partially damaged phone he had managed to conceal from the humans who had trapped him at the shipping yard. "...We need to get out of here."

Alec watched Connor curiously with his blue eyes filled with fear and confusion. "What're you doing?"

"I'm going to try to call for help." Connor revealed the phone and his eyes fell on the cracked screen over the dozens of unread texts that Hank had sent him over the past seven hours. "...Hank."

"Who's Hank?"

"My friend. A father, really." Connor replied as he tried to send a message to the senior detective, but the phone was too damaged to properly send a message. An 'error' message appeared on the screen as he replied failed to send. "Shit. It won't respond."

"Can't you cybernetically link up with the phone?"

"No. My processor was recently damaged and has yet to fully repair. And even if a cybernetic connection were possible the odds of the message successfully getting through on a phone this damaged are less than six point two percent."

"I can't send texts thanks to my model being altered before I deviated." Alec admitted as he cursed his own system limitations. "Maybe the phone can still dial out if you can find enough reception."

"No, the phone is locked in its current mode and cannot be repaired or rebooted properly."

Another message popped up on the screen from Hank and Connor read it quickly: 'Connor, I'm trying to find you. Are you okay?'

Unable to respond to the message Connor closed his soulful brown eyes and bowed his head as he set the phone aside on the cold floor out of sight in the shadows against the wall. "No, Hank. I'm not."

"Well, what do we do now?"

As Connor's hand made a move for the coin in his right jean pocket he caught himself and froze. He remembered what he had promised Hank earlier that morning about not fussing with the coin. The least he could do was keep his promise to Hank even if Hank didn't know it was happening. "...We wait."

"Wait?" Such a simple reply was confusing for the frightened deviant. "Wait for what?"

"Alec, we need to be smart about this if we're going to escape alive. We wait for our opportunity to escape and potentially fight for our lives."

Sitting on the back deck of the house with Sumo laying at his side, Hank repeatedly checked his phone for a reply message from Connor. He checked to make sure the texts he had sent earlier had been sent properly, checked to make sure the phone had a decent signal and checked the battery to ensure it wouldn't die at an inconvenient time. The phone was working just fine and yet there still was no response. It was Connor who seemed to be having a problem on his end of the communication line, and that thought alone was enough to make Hank feel sick to his stomach.

Sumo let out a whimper as he sensed Hank's distress prompting the senior detective to rest one hand atop the young dog's head affectionately.

"I'll find him, Sumo. I'm not giving up on Connor."

Hank sent another message to the missing deviant and clutched his phone tightly in his hand as he waited for any kind of reply from Connor.

"He'd never give up on me."

As the dark warm night fell over the city Hank just stared at the phone in his hand as a chorus of crickets and the distant ambience of traffic surrounded him with a contrasting white noise of normalcy.

"Come on, son. I know you're out there somewhere..."

Refusing to just accept that Connor was simply missing or that the phone was glitching out, Hank dragged his hand over his bearded chin and sighed deeply.

"Too bad you can't pick up Connor's scent and track him down like you did for me."

Again Sumo whimpered and put his paw up on Hank's knee.

"It'll take time, boy. But we'll find him. I can feel it."

With nowhere to go and nothing to do Connor sat idle on the floor with his back pressed up against the cold concrete wall of the imprisoning room in a light form of rest mode. Resting was an attempt to try to heal his damaged body but it did little to help him regain his strength. Meanwhile, Alec tried to find a way to pry open the lock on the metal door to escape. But even with his enhanced android strength Alec was unable to unseal the door and make a run for it. The cold room was silent save for Alec's muttering to himself and Connor's slow breathing. A gentle ticking sound from Hank's watch around Connor's left wrist went unnoticed by either deviant as their minds were left preoccupied by their own tasks.

"This lock is very well made." Alec admitted as he stepped away from the door and stood beside Connor who was still sitting on the floor. "I don't think I can break it."

Connor's brown irises reappeared as his eyes opened and he glanced up at Alec. "Perhaps we can combine our strength later on and break the lock during the early morning hours when less humans will be active."

"How do you know how many humans are around?"

"I can hear sixty-seven distinct voices speaking amongst one another two floors above us; twenty-two are female and forty-five are male. This includes Chance. As the day had turned to night the crowd of people had grown larger by approximately two-hundred and nineteen people and have amassed upstairs for what I assume to be the impending bouts that Chance spoke of earlier."

"I don't want to fight anyone."

"Neither do I."

"What if we have to fight each other?"

"Then we will put on a convincing show but not actually harm one another. It could also be a way for us to escape once we're out of this cell."

"Do you think we can do that?"

"Only one way to find out." Connor let out a weary sigh as he rolled up the left sleeve of his shirt and looked down at the watch wrapped around his wrist; it was nine fifty-four in the evening. "It's nearly ten o'clock. Chance will be coming back for me."

"What're you going to do?"

"I'll think of something."

Connor shook his head and he pulled the tie from around his neck and slipped off his white dress shirt. Folding the garments neatly on the floor Connor took the watch from his wrist and the phone from the floor to conceal the two items within the folds of the fabric out of sight. As he stood upright he pressed his hand over his sore abdomen atop the slowly dirtying white bandages and breathed in a calm, controlled manner.

"I'm going to see what's going on upstairs and try to find a way to escape."

"But you can't cybernetically link to anything." Alec argued in a logical tone. "How are you going to find an escape route?"

Connor didn't have a definitive answer but he gave Alec one regardless of the situation. "...I'll manage."

A large hidden panel on the Western wall of the room slid open and revealed a thick plexiglass window giving the two occupants of the room a clear view of the arena in which they were expected to engage in combat. The window was ground level with the floor of the arena out of eye sight of the surrounding raised up bleachers that encircled the arena. There was a massive crowd of humans from all walks of life; rich, poor, educated, uneducated, black, white, male, female, all gathered around the arena in eager expectation of the barbaric spectacle that Chance had arranged for the night. There wasn't a single empty space on the bleachers as the crowd packed the arena to watch the fight.

"Full house." Connor observed warily as he and Alec approached the window to peer at the arena. "This is a very popular sport, it seems."

The door to the concrete room opened up as Chance had returned to collect Connor right on schedule. Standing behind Chance was another android, not a deviant. The android's model was strikingly similar to that of Luther - a 'WR-400', and very intimidating to look at. With his eyes an ominous gold tint and the L.E.D. still in his right temple and cycling a calm blue, the towering android was an unexpected menace to the otherwise unshakable deviant detective.

"All right, Hunter." Chance taunted with a wicked glee as he motioned toward the exposed window with his arm. "It's your debut match, so don't disappoint the crowd."

"What if I refuse to cooperate?"

"Then I'll have Gunner here," Chance motioned to the android standing behind with a thumb over the shoulder. "persuade you to cooperate. And if that doesn't work, then I'll have him tear you apart slowly, painfully, and drop your body piece by piece into Lake Michigan to remind your little friend there of what happens to anyone who doesn't listen to me."

Connor stared up at Gunner and took in the menacing figure's features: tall, broadly built, soulless eyes, a clean shaven bald head, dozens of scars around his eyes, jaw, lip, over his knuckles and up his forearms; Gunner was an experienced fighter and would have no qualms about murdering any deviant that disobeyed Chance.

Letting out a tired sigh Connor relented and realized he didn't have a choice in the matter. "...Who is my opponent?"

"Good answer, 'Hunter'. Come this way."

Hesitantly but obediently Connor followed after Chance with the intimidating Gunner following after him to ensure that the deviant didn't try anything to harm Chance or flee from the building. As Connor was led to the arena's entrance he couldn't help but think of the night he had challenged Rampage to a fight and had only won because of Rampage's deeply seated moral honor. To fight another deviant for the sake of entertainment, to fight for either his life or the other deviant's life, would have no such moral code attached.

Chance stopped walking and stepped aside as he presented Connor with an opened door leading to the heart of his makeshift arena located in a hidden area beneath an unknown property. "Go out there and wait for your opponent." The cold human instructed as he pointed to the arena and motioned for Connor to enter. "And you better win. I have a massive wager in your favor, so do not fail me."

Giving Chance one final toxic stare Connor stepped through the opened door, his hand pressed against his sore abdomen, and walked out into the bright lights shining down from the ceiling to the arena floor below. As Connor made his entrance Chance's voice sounded off through crudely installed speakers mounted on the four walls surrounding the arena to hype up the crowd as a cacophony of cheers and boos echoed all around the unwilling deviant occupant.

'Place your bets!' Chance sounded like a sportscaster and it made Connor feel sick. 'We have a new contender tonight!'

Connor shook his head, his eyes fixated on the floor beneath him, as he walked into the arena. The floor was a hexagonal shape of concrete with red and blue paint along the borders to divide the arena into two pieces. Weak, uneven chainlink fencing surrounded the arena at the sides keeping the hexagonal shape that stretched ten feet upward from the floor and connected to a chainlink ceiling over the arena to create a macabre dome for combat.

'Behold the infamous "Deviant Hunter" from Detroit himself...'

Connor inwardly flinched at the nickname that Chance happily shared with the crowd.

'The most advanced prototype that CyberLife had ever created before going bankrupt, AND the very android responsible for unleashing an entire army of deviants on the city, I give you: "The Hunter".'

The cheering and boos became louder as the crowd was introduced to Connor in the most cruel manner the deviant could imagine. It was a mockery of everything he had done in Detroit and of everything he stood for as a detective.

'And his opponent, our returning twenty-four time victor...' From the other side of the arena where the red paint had been laid, a second deviant entered and stood before Connor with a blank emotionless stare. This model was unfamiliar to Connor, someone who was a total stranger yet still a fellow deviant in need of help. 'Welcome back: "The Slayer".'

More cheers and less boos erupted from the crowd as 'The Slayer' stared through Connor and into blank nothingness behind the deviant detective.

'The Slayer' was of average build for the typical android with an average height and weight. Patches of his artificial skin were missing over his right eye and along his jaw, as well as over his right knuckles. Sporting some fiery red hair, dark green eyes and tattered clothing, 'The Slayer' was seemingly worthy of his name.

'"The Hunter" versus "The Slayer": Who will win?'

A loud metal bell rang and signaled the start of the bout. Connor didn't move but 'The Slayer' charged at him quickly. Before Connor had time to react 'The Slayer' wrapped both arms around Connor's chest and tackled him to the ground causing the back of Connor's head slamming down hard against the concrete floor of the arena as he was tackled.

The crowd cheered and Connor's ears began to ring as blue blood began to leak from a small but painful laceration on the back of his head.

"S-Stop!" Connor ordered as his hands wrapped around 'The Slayer's' forearms and pushed the attacking deviant's grip from around his chest. "I don't want to fight you!"

"...You don't h-have a choice." 'The Slayer' hissed with painful regret to his voice. His words carried an electronic echo from constant damage to his person and he struggled to speak clearly. "If you d-don't kill me then I'll h-have to kill you."

Connor looked around at the ravenous, savage humans cheering and calling for more blood all around them on the outside of the chainlink fence. Steeling himself with his instinct for self preservation, an instinct that Hank had worked so hard to drill into Connor's head, Connor pushed 'The Slayer' away from him and planted his foot against the attacking deviant's chest. With a single strong kick Connor sent his opponent flying backward and crashing against the sharp chainlink fence that surrounded the arena.

As the remaining fabric of 'The Slayer's' shirt was torn away from his back and his artificial skin was torn open into dark blue cuts, the crowd cheered louder at the carnage unfolding before them. Stunned by the attack 'The Slayer' fell to his knees as he caught his breath and ignored the searing pain in his back as the blue blood ran from his fresh lacerations.

"...I thought humans were better than this."

Connor muttered to himself as he got back to his feet and readied himself to resume his confrontation with the other deviant. He didn't want to hurt anyone but he truly had no say in the matter.

"Turns out I was wrong."

Unable to stand the quiet and isolation of the house any longer Hank went out for a late night drive through the city for several hours as he just drove around aimlessly and just thought. With his phone sitting on the dashboard with his dozens of unanswered texts waiting for a response still visible on the screen, Hank circled through the city and watched every figure he passed very carefully in hopes that he'd recognize Connor's face in the crowd and finally be able to bring the deviant back home to where he belonged.

Such a wish would remain unanswered.

"Damn it."

Flipping through his phone Hank settled on a contact he had used back when he worked narcotics and pressed 'dial'. As the other line answered Hank held his breath and hope for good news.

"Hey, Gary, it's Hank again. Did you-" Hank's face fell with disappointment as his his best lead proved to be a failure. "No, thanks for looking anyway. I appreciate the help. Keep me in the loop if anything does pop up."

Hanging up the phone Hank cycled back to the text screen and looked at the unanswered messages once more.

"Some good news from someone would be really fuckin' great right about now..."

As it neared midnight Hank found himself curiously enough heading down the long drive to Belle Isle where New Jericho Tower was nearing the end of its reconstruction and restoration. The tower wasn't as tall as it had been, but it was still a formidable looking structure of white metal and hundreds of windows overlooking the entire circumference of the tower.

A few deviants were standing out front of the tower with numerous pieces of construction equipment at their disposal. Two of the deviants working outside, Josh and Skye, were familiar to Hank and prompted him to stop for a chat. Pulling up alongside the tower Hank stepped out of the car with the phone clutched tightly in his right hand and walked over to the two deviants, not sure of why he was even there at the tower to begin with.

"Lieutenant Anderson." Josh greeted in a somber tone as he approached Hank slowly and dropped his hammer as he walked. "We... We heard that Connor is missing. He didn't come by here if that's what you're wondering."

"I figured if Connor had come here someone would've told me by now." Hank confirmed as he acknowledged Josh's statement. "He's just... gone."

"Is there something we can do for you?"

"I don't know. I just... I guess I just couldn't sleep."

Skye walked up to Hank and put her hand lightly on his arm in a sympathetic manner as her blue L.E.D. cycled to yellow. "Do you want to talk or something?"

"...I honestly don't know."

"I swear to you, Lieutenant-"

"Hank. Please. Both of you, everyone here, just call me 'Hank'."

"Hank," Skye corrected herself respectfully. "what's going on? How can we help?"

With a heavy sigh Hank began to explain the unusual situation with all of the details he had known were confirmed. "Connor just disappeared during an investigation, no one knows where he is or where he could have gone and none of the suspects at the precinct are cooperating. No trace of him anywhere, not even that damn coin he flips around."

"Maybe some of my contacts on the outskirts of the city know where he is. If anyone knows anything I'm sure it'd be Anne."

That particular claim made Hank's brow arch with thorough intrigue. "Your contacts?"

"That's how I managed to get so many of us back over the border after you rescued us in Canada." Skye replied almost nonchalantly. "I'll check in with my contacts and see if there's anything going on outside the city."

"Thanks, at least that's better than nothing." Hank looked at his phone in his hand with a somber stare. "All I can do is send texts to that damn phone I gave him. I'm not cleared for active duty and even if I were they wouldn't let me work the case. Fucking useless..."

"Go on home, get some sleep." Skye squeezed her hand over Hank's arm a little as she tried to give him a reassuring smile. "You're exhausted. I'll help look for Connor and everyone here at the tower will help you find him. I promise."

"Yeah... I'll go home," the exhausted senior detective replied as he walked back to car with a heavy grimace. "but I won't be sleeping any time soon."

In pain and covered in his own Thirium, Connor pushed himself up from the dirty, bloody floor of the arena and dragged his hand over the back of his bleeding and swelling lip. Blue blood smeared over his hand as it left a faint sapphire stain on his chin that was mixed with his own saline-based saliva. Getting back to feet, his body exhausted from pain and needless physical exertion, Connor looked down at 'The Slayer' laying dazed on the arena floor just a few feet away from him after the opposing deviant suffered a damning blow to his chest and head.

Both of the deviants were bloodied messes. Blood oozed down their lips, Connor's nose was bleeding and 'The Slayer' had blood dripping out of his right ear. With his right eye blackened and swollen shut, Connor stared at 'The Slayer' with a hesitant gaze in pained eyes. He didn't need his scanner to know that 'The Slayer' was bleeding internally from weeks of being battered around on a nightly basis.

Connor also knew that 'The Slayer' was only hours away from irreversible shutdown.

As 'The Slayer' got back to his feet he took only one step forward before he collapsed against Connor's chest with Connor reflexively grabbing onto his upper arms to hold him upright. He didn't have the strength to keep fighting for anyone or anything.

The crowd began to chant and cheer loudly as they watched 'The Slayer' dying before them and yet they still needed more blood.

"FINISH IT OFF!"

"KILL IT!"

"TAKE IT OUT!"

Connor felt sick at the horrible words being shouted at him as he held 'The Slayer' in his hands. Looking down at his weakened dying opponent Connor swallowed once nervously. "...I'm sorry."

"...P-Please." 'The Slayer' begged as a gush of blood flowed over his lips in a weak, crackling voice. "E-End my misery."

Connor looked back to the surrounded crowd and his heart began to race with a mixture of fear, uncertainty, guilt and anger.

"C-Connor."

Connor's eyes went wide as he looked back down at 'The Slayer' still bleeding in his arms.

"That's y-your real name. I... I know y-you were... the 'Deviant H-Hunter'. But y-you're... Connor." He spoke in a weakened yet compassionate voice. "I was... I am... M-Miles."

"Miles." Connor repeated the name with a low voice. "I don't want to kill you."

"I... I died a long time a-ago. Th-They keep f-fixing me and t-torturing." Miles sounded as tired as his body looked. "I don't w-want to live like this a-anymore. I'm not... alive. I'm j-just existing for their... amusement."

"I can't. I can't kill you. It's wrong."

"P-Please. I want this... I'm already... d-dead. I want to... die. Help me."

Connor's shaking hands rose from Miles's arms and up to around his neck and throat. As Connor's hands slowly tightened around Miles' throat the crowd cheered louder and kept chanting for Connor to kill him.

They wanted him to kill Miles.

"Connor." Miles closed his eyes and let out a deep breath. "Please... I just w-want to die. I w-want to meet RA9 and... s-see my friends a-again. No more p-pain, no more... fighting."

Closing his own eyes Connor bowed his head and held his own breath. "I'm sorry for this. I will make it painless for you, Miles."

"...Thank you."

"Find peace with RA9."

Moving his hands quickly Connor snapped Miles' neck in a swift, painless and effective manner. Miles' entire body went limp as his processor shutdown within milliseconds. The damage was irreparable and reactivation would prove impossible, just as Miles wanted.

Connor slowly lessened his grip and let the deviant's dead body fall away from his chest. As Miles collapsed onto the arena floor in a growing puddle of his own blood Connor took a step back and looked away from his downed opponent with deep remorseful regret and shame.

'We have a winner and a NEW champion!' Chance's voice returned over the speakers with a misplaced sense of pride. 'The Hunter!'

The crowd that won their bets cheered loudly and the crowd that lost booed angrily.

Gunner entered the arena and put its hand on Connor's shoulder to pull him out of sight and back into the cell one floor down.

'Place your bets for our next match!' Chance encouraged enthusiastically. 'It will be taking place in twenty minutes.'

Connor's head was bowed with immense shame as a tear of guilt rolled down his face and blended in with the blue blood already smeared on his face. Gunner all but pushed Connor back into his cell where the battered deviant fell to his hands and knees and collapsed from exhaustion in the middle of the room. The sound of the metal door slamming shut made Connor flinch as the intense sound was almost too much for his overwhelmed processors to handle at that moment.

Alec walked over to Connor and knelt beside him with a frightened gesture. "Connor... You killed him."

"He... He wanted to die." Connor admitted with a choked sob in words. The deed was merciful but he still felt horrible for committing it. "He begged me to kill him. He wanted... to die. I didn't... I didn't want to kill him! His name was 'Miles' and he wanted me to end his suffering. I feel... I feel horrible for what I did!"

Alec's hand slowly came to sympathetically rest on Connor's back between his shoulders as he heard the sincerity and remorse in Connor's voice. "You're hurt."

"...I'll heal."

"Let me help you." Alec insisted as he grabbed onto Connor's left arm and helped Connor to slowly limp, almost crawl, to the place against the wall where his shirt was neatly folded. Alec took the shirt and draped it over Connor's back as Connor rested partially on his right side and stomach as he tucked his right arm under his head as a pillow. "Did you find a way to escape?"

"...No." Connor turned his head slightly so he could look at Alec with his one good eye that wasn't swollen shut. "...I couldn't see any exits while I was in the arena. The only way out must be through the corridor outside the door."

"And we can't open our cell door to check."

"I know." Connor sounded as defeated as he looked, and yet he was the victor of his match. With a trembling hand Connor picked up the phone and looked at the screen to read and reread the texts sent by Hank. Retracting the artificial skin from over his hand Connor used what little energy he could spare to charge the phone before setting it back down beside himself. "We'll find a way to get out of here. However, we'll need some help."

"From who?"

"...I don't know."

The door to the cell opened up again as Chance and Gunner walked into the room to address the two deviants.

"You did good, 'Hunter'." Chance proudly boasted at his 'new champion' laying in the corner and covered in blue blood. "You earned me sixty-thousand dollars tonight! The bandages really helped stack the odds in my favor, practically no one expected a wounded deviant to overcome our reigning champion. You did real good."

"Fuck off." Connor snarled from where he was laying. "You're a heartless piece of shit."

"Still fiery. I like that." Chance raised his hand to keep Gunner from going after Connor for his outburst. Motioning toward Alec he signaled for Gunner to take him to the arena next. "'Nomad', you're up. Do me proud like 'Hunter', won't ya'?"

Connor tried to get up to rush at Chance or Gunner, but his body suddenly failed him from exhaustion and pain causing him to just collapse right back down where he was already laying with a pathetic 'thud'.

"Let's go." Chance ordered and Alec reluctantly stood up from where he was kneeling beside Connor and followed the horrible human to the door. "Let's see if I can go two for two in my wins. I'm overdue for a good hot-streak like this."

The door slammed shut with that horrible echo as Connor was left alone on the cold floor of the confining cell. Using his forearms Connor dragged himself away from the wall and over to the window on the neighboring wall so he could watch the match that Alec was about to be forced into. Leaving a small trail of blue blood smeared on the floor from the wounds that he had sustained under his bandages, his chest and along his arms, Connor himself was stained a sickly blue from head to toe.

Pulling himself upright with his trembling hands Connor managed to lean heavily against the wall and stare through the window with his one good eye just in time to see Alec be pushed into the arena and come face to face with another deviant who had been just as battered and beaten as Miles had been.

"Alec... Don't do what I did."

The sight of the timid deviant standing before another broken down, dying deviant made his heart truly hurt with an empathetic pain.

"Be better than that."

After returning home Hank was unable to lay down and sleep, not that he was surprised by the sudden onset of insomnia. Sitting down on the back deck once more with his phone still in his hand, Hank resumed sending texts to Connor hoping that just one of the messages would finally get a reply. But the phone was as quiet as the empty house behind him. The numerous contacts that Hank had obtained during his time as a detective over the years had failed him at every turn. There was nothing more Hank could do from his end to search for Connor.

Waiting was his only remaining option and he hated it. It was an option that Hank reluctantly accepted as he sat on the deck with his shoulders slouched heavy with defeat.

"I absolutely hate this."

Sumo laid stretched out over the deck behind Hank with a quiet presence as he kept the worried human company and dozed lightly.

"Connor, you're too clever to let someone just take you out."

Rubbing his hand over the back of his tense neck Hank continued to worry openly for his missing son and tried to think of a way to find him.

"What could have possibly happened today? Where are you, kid?"

Righteous exhaustion fell over Connor as he watched Alec get beaten down to a bloody pulp in the arena. Left barely alive and soaked in his own blue blood, Alec's body was dragged out of the arena by Gunner and Connor fell away from the window to curl up around himself on the cold floor in utter pain and misery once more. Feigning unconsciousness Connor remained completely still as the metal door was forced open and Alec was thrown inside the room without a care in the world.

"You'll do better next time." Chance threatened as he kicked Alec in the stomach for failing to win the match. "Or you'll face off with Gunner for your 'grand finale' and earn me the money you cost me tonight!"

As the door slammed shut with a thunderous echo Connor lifted up his head and dragged himself toward Alec laying on his back on the floor in utter pain.

"Alec?"

Connor pressed his left hand down over Alec's chest and felt for a heartbeat. It was there, but it was slow and strained.

"Alec, we'll find a way to get out of here."

Taking his shirt from over his shoulders he placed it over Alec's body as he tried to analyze Alec's injuries and tend to them as best as he could without a functioning scanner.

"I know it."

A sudden knocking sound against the plexiglass window caught Connor's ear. Turning to look toward the source of the sound Connor's eye fell upon a lone figure peering down through the window from inside the now empty arena. Their face was completely concealed under a thick scarf and a baseball cap was pulled down over their eyes. Wearing a thick winter coat and gloves, an odd sight in the warmer spring weather as summer neared, Connor knew that the figure was someone who wasn't supposed to be there.

Pushing himself up from the floor Connor hobbled over to the window and looked the figure in the face, at least as best as Connor could with one eye on a completely concealed identity.

"...Who are you?"

The figure held up a piece of white paper with words written out in black ink in perfect CyberLife sans for Connor to read: 'I CAN HELP YOU ESCAPE AT THE END OF THE WEEK. JUST HOLD ON.'

Connor knew he wouldn't be able to hear any words being spoken to him which meant the figure wouldn't be able to hear him either. Speaking with perfectly clear but silent enunciation, Connor attempted to communicate with his seemingly new ally. "I can survive, but Alec," Connor motioned to the unconscious deviant on the floor behind him with a trembling hand. "will not. Save him first."

The figure's shoulders visibly slumped with Connor's selfless gesture. A moment passed before the figure took the black marker from his pocket and wrote a reply on the other side of the paper: 'YOU WOULD RISK YOUR LIFE FOR HIM?'

Connor nodded without hesitation. "Yes. I can take the abuse. Alec won't survive."

Giving Connor a single nod the figure slunk away from sight as the panel over the window slid shut leaving the two deviants completely alone in their dark cell for the rest of the night.

Falling to his knees tiredly Connor crawled back over to the spot beside the wall where the phone and the watch were resting. Picking up the phone Connor read the latest text from Hank and he let out a weak sob of fear, sorrow and loneliness as he read the kind words directed to him.

'Connor, I know you can find your way back home. I'll be here waiting for you.'

Grabbing onto the watch Connor slipped it back onto his left wrist before he tucked his left arm under his head like a makeshift pillow. The rhythmic ticking of the watch was somehow soothing to Connor's mind as he fell into rest mode in an attempt to heal the brutal damage and painful injuries he had sustained courtesy of human atrocity.

"...I want to go home. I want to be with my father."

As the leader of the deviants Markus had gotten word of Connor's disappearance shortly after his investigation into other deviant disappearances that had taken place earlier that morning, and as a result had given as much information as he could to the precinct to help from home. Unwilling to leave North alone in their home out of fear for her health, Markus had to be coaxed into visiting with Hank by North herself after she insisted that she'd be okay for a few hours without him.

Arriving at Hank's house just after dawn, Markus rang the front doorbell but there was no answer. He knocked loudly on the front door but still nothing, not even a bark from Sumo. Craning his neck to look at the driveway beside the house Markus saw that the car was parked just in front of the garage and knew that Hank had to be home.

"Hank?"

Markus called out as he stepped away from the front porch and walked around the car parked in the side driveway. Walking toward the backyard Markus spotted Hank sitting on the back deck with a dead phone clutched in his right hand and Sumo resting his chin atop his left knee.

"Hank."

Turning his head slightly Hank looked at Markus with a sleep deprived gaze for only a second before he stared down at the blank phone in his hand.

"Have you been out here all night?" Markus rushed over to the back deck and gave the senior detective a worried look. "Talk to me."

"...You better get away from me while you still can, Markus." Hank leaned forward, his shoulders tense as curled around himself with self pity. "Every person I let into my life gets killed. Barbara, Cole, Lucas... Connor." Sumo let out a whimper and Hank shook his head sadly as he looked to the small grave in the corner of the yard outlined in white stones. "Even Sumo."

"Hank..." Sitting down on the deck next to Hank with a somber demeanor of his own Markus put his hand on Hank's shoulder in an effort to provide some degree of comfort to the emotionally shaken detective. "Don't give up on him. We both know Connor is far more resourceful and resilient than all of Detroit combined."

Hank remained quiet where he sat without ever looking up.

"Skye is checking in with all of her contacts as we speak. There's a mass search taking place outside the city in search of Connor and all of the other missing deviants this very moment. Connor WILL be found, I can feel it."

"Maybe it's better this way." The senior detective sounded defeated as he spoke. "Connor needs the chance to live without having to constantly worry about me or me holding him back anymore. I can't fuckin' stand the world we humans created, he's better off without me and should find a way to live outside the city and away from all of this bullshit."

"No. Connor is your family, your SON. I know he'll find a way to come back to us, back to YOU. Just give him time."

"What if he's already dead? What if..." Hank trailed off as the idea of losing Connor just as he had already done so with Cole and even Lucas made his heart ache to a degree he hadn't felt since the night Cole died in the hospital. "He should've been back by now. Something horrible has happened to him and there's nothing I can do to protect him. It's just like Cole all over again."

"Stop! Don't blame yourself."

"I should've been there watching his back! I'm supposed to be his partner."

"You're HURT. And even if you weren't you can't be everywhere he is, it's impossible."

"Doesn't matter. I still should've been there to watch his back."

"What about the other officers at the precinct? Aren't they just as responsible for his safety as you are?"

Hank didn't answer as he stared at the dead phone in his hand with utter despair in exhausted blue eyes.

"Come on." Markus moved his hand from Hank's shoulder and grabbed onto his arm to pull him up to his feet against the senior detective's will. As Hank slowly stood upright and gained his balance, Markus slowly pulled the senior detective toward the backdoor. "You need to sleep. Connor wouldn't want to come home and find you moping around and neglecting yourself."

Too tired to resist Hank let Markus pull him inside the house through the backdoor while Sumo quietly followed the duo inside with his tail hanging low.

"Go on, Markus. Beat it!" Hank snarled angrily as the deviant leader practically dragged Hank through the kitchen, down the hallway and into the bedroom. "Go take care of North!"

"I will. AFTER I take care of you."

"Are all deviants as thick-headed and stubborn as you and Connor? Or is that an exclusive trait to prototypes?"

"I'm just looking out for you. That's all."

"I can look after myself!" Hank argued as Markus dropped him down onto the bed to get some sleep. "Leave me alone!"

"I know you can take care of yourself, but we all need help sometimes." Markus replied without missing a beat and pried the dead phone from Hank's hand. "Lay back and sleep. I'll put your phone on the charger next to your bed, okay?" From the doorway Sumo whimpered once and Markus acknowledged the young dog needing some attention as well. "I'll also feed Sumo and check in on Connor's aquarium."

Unable to stay angry with Markus for just trying to help him out, unable to stay awake from the intense exhaustion weighing down his mind, Hank's only response came in the form of a breathy sigh as he laid down on the bed and rolled to his side. With his back facing Markus he closed his eyes and finally drifted off to a deep sleep.

"...Damn deviants."

Pulling the quilt up over his shoulder and his head Hank let out a final thought before sleep overtook his mind.

"Too stubborn for their own damn good."

Four additional nights of brutal combat and raucous crowds had left Connor a trembling, hollow shell of his former self. Sitting on the floor of the cell covered in blue blood, some of it his own and the rest belonging to that of his defeated opponents, Connor shivered violently and kept his one good eye on the screen of the damaged phone as he constantly read the texts that Hank had sent him after he was taken from the city. Much to Connor's chagrin the lack of new texts from Hank made his heart ache, but deep down inside he knew that he had to find his way back home even if Hank had already given up hope.

"Connor? Look at me." Alec's face was swollen and bloody like Connor, but not to such a severe degree. Gently dabbing the sleeve of Connor's shirt against the bleeding deviant's lip, Alec tried to clean up the wounds as best as he could. "You can't keep doing this. You're going to die before help even gets here, IF it gets here at all."

"I... I can't just... give up." Connor shivered again and let out a pained groan as the numerous fresh cracks, fractures and breaks throughout his chest and abdominal plastimetal frames gnawed at his every breath. His knuckles and fingers weren't fairing much better, but it didn't stop him from using his exposed fingertips to deliver power to the phone to ensure it stayed charge. "H-Have to keep... fighting."

"Why? Even if we did make it out of here, where would we go?"

"H-Home."

"How, Connor!? We're in Chicago! There's no way anyone would help two battered deviants wandering the highway. We'd shutdown before we even reached the city limit!"

"Can't g-give up."

"Connor." Alec stopped messing with the blood on Connor's face as he seemed to give up on escape all together. "One more fight and you're going to die. I can't watch you die, I won't."

"...I'll make it."

The panel over the window slid open as another match was getting ready to begin. Alec carefully grabbed onto Connor's right arm and pulled the sore, bloodied, damaged limb around his shoulders as he helped Connor to slowly stand up and limp over to the window. Leaning heavily against Alec's shoulder Connor and Alec peered through the window together, watching as Gunner began sparing against a human combatant in the middle of the arena.

"A... human?" Alec asked aloud as he and Connor stared at the sight in utter confusion. "It's attacking a human?"

Gunner showed no mercy as he beat the unfamiliar human around over and over again. Red blood was spraying all over the arena floor as Gunner's strong fist broke the man's nose and split his lower lip. The man tried to crawl away but Gunner continued to beat him down with strong punches and kicks to the man's back and to his sides causing the man to cry out in pained fear.

"He's going to... kill him." Connor realized with an arched brow as he watched the merciless beat down through the window. "But... why?"

Chance himself stepped into the arena and put his foot down on the back of man's head as he tried to crawl away. Able to easily read Chance's lips Connor deduced what was happening.

"That man owes Chance money. Gunner is delivering a warning..."

Alec was dumbfounded by the revelation. "THAT'S a warning?!"

"Yes. Chance is truly... heartless." Connor agreed as he watched Chance pull the small black swath of canvas from his pocket once more. As he unfurled the canvas in his hand Chance presented the man with the vial and the syringe. "...It's a painkiller."

"Why would Chance have him beaten to a pulp then give him something for the pain?"

"Because the beating was a warning... not meant to actually kill the man. My guess is the man is a junkie seeking a high but 'red ice'... hasn't made it to Chicago yet. Controlled narcotics stolen from hospitals... will have to suffice until they can get a 'red ice' supply... here."

Chance loaded up the syringe with the medication and promptly injected it into the man's arm. Immediately the man relaxed and stopped trying to get away from Gunner as the drug took hold quickly.

"Looks like the e-effects of morphine." Connor deduced keenly as he studied the man's reaction and compared it to Chance's previous reaction to the same drug. "I've seen it b-before when I spent time at the h-hospital after Hank had been h-hurt or injured."

"Humans and their drugs..." Alec shook his head with disappointment. "And they tried to say it was the androids ruining the city."

"H-Help me back over to the wall." Connor's arm clutched at his chest as more burning pain swept through him. "I... I need to sit down."

"I got you, hold on."

Alec took Connor back over to the wall as instructed and Connor fell to the floor as he panted for breath through his broken chest. The long since dirtied white bandages over his chest and abdomen had begun to turn blue as Thirium leaked from the new injuries beneath, but did nothing to keep his battered body supported properly any longer.

"I think one of your ventilation biocomponents has failed."

"...You're probably c-correct." Connor admitted in a pitiful voice. "But my self diagnostic still isn't w-working."

"If you fight again tonight you WILL die. Telling you to fight is like asking a human with a collapsed lung to run a marathon!"

"I... I have no choice." Connor breathed slowly to ease the pain before shutting down his ventilation program entirely. "If I don't f-fight then he'll kill m-me anyway. And then y-you'll be forced to fight in my place."

"But-"

The door to the cell opened quickly as Gunner entered with Chance right behind him. "'Hunter', you have a match. NOW."

"...M-Match?"

"Overtime." Chance blurted angrily as Gunner wiped the fresh blood from its knuckles onto a rag. "Some bastard owes me money and tonight I'm doubling my money on you to remind his sorry ass NOT to fuck with me! You against his android."

"...I... I can't-"

"Move your plastic ass!" Chance shouted as Gunner stormed into the cell and grabbed Connor by the throat. As Gunner hauled the battered deviant up to his feet and dragged him out of the cell. Chance continued to bark at him. "If you fail tonight you're DEAD."

Alec watched in silent horror as Connor was dragged out of sight and the door slammed shut behind them with a crashing 'thud'. All that was left of Connor in the cell was the stains from his blue blood on the floor, the wall and his dirtied white dress shirt wrapped around the watch and phone. It could very well be the only piece of Connor that would survive the night.

"Hang on, Connor."

Walking over to the plexiglass window Alex forced himself to look into the arena where his new friend would be forced to fight for his life for the fifth night in a row.

"I know you can make it."

With a heavy heart Hank awoke to an empty house once more after sleeping for almost fourteen consecutive hours. As he sat up on his bed he instinctively reached for his phone on the nightstand beside him and checked the messages. Still no response from Connor or even from anyone at the precinct regarding the search for the missing deviant. There wasn't any progress on the other missing deviants either.

"Shit."

Getting up from the bed slowly Hank wandered about the house, hating the quiet and made his way into Connor's bedroom. The empty room was like a vacuum of nothingness that made Hank want to flee from the house in response. As his eyes fell on the aquarium in the corner he let out a sigh and proceeded to sprinkle some more flakes into the water to feed the vibrant and healthy assortment of fish on the deviant's behalf.

"Fuck. I bet Sumo is starving."

Sumo himself was laying on the floor of the kitchen with his nose pressed up against his empty bowl, not that Hank was surprised. Pouring some food into the bowl for Sumo without saying a word to the loyal dog Hank opened the backdoor and returned to his place on the back deck as he sent another message to Connor in hopes that the deviant would somehow reply.

"I won't give up on you, son. I know you're still alive somewhere and I will find you.

Pressing send Hank glanced at the sent message and let out a weary sigh: 'Come home, son.'

Simply taking the physical abuse Connor fell onto his back on the cold arena floor so hard that the wind was knocked out of his one remaining ventilation biocomponent. It was like someone having their breath crushed from their lungs by a vice due to the impact being so extreme. The opposing deviant wasn't a skilled fighter or even built for strength, but with Connor as weak as he was from exhaustion and pain he didn't have the strength to fight back and had no desire to get up just to spite Chance and his greedy wager.

"DAMN IT! GET UP!" Chance shouted as Connor coughed and tried to roll onto his right side. "YOU LOSE! YOU DIE!"

Connor managed to slowly get up and balance on his shaking legs just as the other deviant rushed him and tackled him against the sharp fence that surrounded the arena. Letting out a wheezing gasp of pain Connor reacted out of pure instinct and grabbed onto the attacking deviant's head and gave him a firm headbutt that instantly rendered the other deviant unconscious with the single strike.

"FUCK YEAH!" Chance shouted as the match came to an abrupt end with Connor as the victor. "He's down! 'Hunter' wins! Pay up!"

"Okay, okay..." The other man backed away from Chance and Gunner warily as he wiped his still bleeding, swollen nose against the sleeve of his coat. "I'll bring you the money tonight."

"DOUBLE."

"Y-Yeah, double... I'll bring you double the money, Chance." He glanced up at Gunner as he backed away slowly. "I swear..."

Connor fell to his knees in exhaustion and coughed out a mouthful of blue blood as his internal damage was getting worse with each bout.

Chance saw the damage Connor had sustained and shook his head. "Well, looks like the end of an era." Putting his hand on Connor's shoulder, a touch that Connor shrugged off with disgust, Chance leaned down uncomfortably close breathing his horrendous breath all over the deviant's face as he spoke to him in a menacing manner. "Relax, tomorrow night will be your last match. I'll make sure you go down in a blaze of glory, just like you did to 'The Slayer'."

Connor spat more blood out of his mouth and all over Chance's face as he gave Chance a sickened glare. "...Fuck you."

"Gunner, take it back to the cell." Wiping the blue spit away from his face Chance laughed and brushed the disrespectful display aside as if he had been spit on every day of his atrocious life. "'Nomad's' match is starting in an hour and our guests will be arriving soon."

Connor didn't try to resist as Gunner wrapped its hand around his throat and dragged him out of the arena, down the corridor and back to the cell. As the cell door was opened Connor was thrown inside, landing harshly on his back causing him to cough violently from the painful impact against his already damaged body. What little breath he could manage to take in was actively forced back out as the impact shook his entire core.

"What the FUCK?!" Chance blurted angrily as he looked about the cell only to find it curiously empty. "Where is 'Nomad'?! It's GONE!"

Connor opened his one good eye and realized that Chance was right. Alec had disappeared from the cell and he had no idea where he had gone.

"Son of a bitch! Gunner, search the building!" Chance pointed an enraged finger at Connor as Gunner quickly left the cell in search of the now missing deviant. "All right, change of plans, 'Hunter'. Your final match is going to be TONIGHT. And... It's going to be against Gunner. Make peace with whatever the fuck gods you machines believe in, because tonight you're going to meet them."

The door slammed shut and Connor let out a pathetic sigh as he fought to breathe again. Rolling weakly onto his left side Connor looked up at the window on the wall in time to see the mysterious figure he had encountered four nights prior return with another piece of paper pressed up against the plexiglass: 'ALEC IS SAFE. I'LL GET TO YOU BEFORE THE MATCH.'

Connor didn't have the strength to get up or move, but he did find enough energy to lift his head and silently mouth one final request to the figure. "...Can you g-get the... canvas... wrap from... Chance?"

The figure didn't move.

"Ch-Chance has one... In his jacket p-pocket. I... I need it!"

The figure paused for only a moment before nodding slowly.

"...Do it."

Before the figure could give any other form of acknowledgement to Connor they rushed away and the panel over the window slid shut once more.

Reaching out with a trembling hand Connor grabbed onto his phone, the watch and his black tie pressed up against the wall for safekeeping. Checking the screen on the phone Connor saw the new message from Hank and saw that it appeared just minutes after he was taken away.

"...I'm c-coming home, Hank."

Finding enough strength to hold on a little longer Connor had a reason to keep fighting for a while longer.

"I s-swear."

Unable to do anything more than just think and worry for Connor's safety, Hank had returned to the kitchen table with his phone still clutched in his right hand and an unopened bottle of 'Black Lamb' whiskey in the left hand. The temptation to drink, the desire to crawl inside of an empty bottle and forget about the cruel and painful world around him, was almost smothering as Hank endured the emotional turmoil of losing yet another person he cared about. He knew that he didn't need to drink, he just wanted to drink. He wanted to numb himself and hide from the world just as much as he wanted his son back home where he'd be safe and sound.

Sumo pressed his chin over Hank's knee as he kept the pained human company, but there was little comfort to be found in the dog's presence at the moment. Even though the young dog's behavior was reminiscent of the original Sumo, somehow it just felt like a surreal reaction that failed to warm Hank's cold heart.

There was a knock at the front door that Hank didn't expect or even react to. Ignoring the visitor Hank just placed the bottle down in the middle of the kitchen table and stared at it with a covetous gaze.

"Hank?" The front door opened slowly and Rose appeared in the livingroom to check in on her dear friend. "I wanted to call you fir-" The glint of the glass bottle in the light from the ceiling in the kitchen told Rose everything she needed to know. "Oh, Hank. Please don't do that."

"I didn't touch it." Hank stated solemnly as he then stared at the phone in his right hand but tightened his grip around the bottle in the left hand as it remained in the middle of the table. "I wanted to, but I couldn't bring myself to open it."

"Hank..." Rose reached out to the bottle and pulled it away from the senior detective's grip much to his relief. "I know you're hurting and I know how much it hurts to lose a part of your family, but doing this isn't going to help anyone. It'll only make the pain worse after you sober up."

"Yeah. I know. It's just a habit." The worried man admitted as his blue eyes stared shamefully at the bottle of whiskey. "A very bad habit."

Putting the bottle of whiskey on the counter beside the kitchen sink, Rose took a seat in the chair right next to Hank and rested her hand over top of his hand without obstructing the phone. Gingerly she rubbed her thumb over the top of his hand as she tried to bring a modicum of comfort to her dear friend as she leaned her cheek against his shoulder. "It'll be okay."

"That's what everyone keeps telling me."

"Because it's true." Putting her other hand under Hank's chin she gently turned his head so his watery blue eyes were locked onto her kind cinnamon irises in return. "Connor will find his way back home to you. You're his father and he's your son; you two need each other."

Hank took in a shuddering breath as he fought the urge to cry.

"Come here." Rose wrapped her arms around Hank and pressed her palm lightly to the back of his head as she pulled him in for a tight hug. As his forehead rested against her shoulder Rose ran her fingers through his gray locks of hair as he began to silently weep as she held him close. "It's okay to admit you're afraid for him." Empathetic ears began to roll down her face as she spoke. "Am I too. But Connor will come back home."

"When?"

"...I wish I knew. We just have to hang on to hope until he finds his way back home to you."

Aggressively Connor was awoken from his emergency rest mode as Gunner slammed open the cell door and stormed inside the cold room. Grabbing onto Connor by his throat once more, Gunner dragged the broken down deviant through the corridors and placed him at the entrance door to the arena where Connor had entered and exited numerous times before previously that very week. It'd be Connor's last time entering the arena whether he wanted to go inside the battle area or not.

"Don't. Move." Gunner threatened in a deep baritone voice as it let go of Connor's throat slowly. "Or I'll kill you now."

Even if Connor had the strength to move he didn't know where to go. Staying idle, his body leaning heavily against the cold wall next to the doorway, all he could do was nod to acknowledge Gunner's command.

As Gunner disappeared down the corridor to inform Chance that Connor was ready for the match, the mysterious figure who was helping Connor in secret suddenly emerged from the shadows. Raising a finger to their unseen lips the figure signaled to Connor to remain quiet as they handed the black canvas wrap that Chance used to keep his stash of morphine safe over to the worn out deviant.

Accepting the canvas Connor clumsily tore it open and loaded up the syringe with the morphine from the glass vial and tucked the syringe under the bandages weakly around his chest and directly over his heart. As his hand reached under the bandages he pulled another item free of the wraps, his tie, and held it in his hands as if it were made of glass. Connor handed over his tie, which was wrapped protectively around the phone and watch, over to the figure. As the figure took the offered bundle they nodded once to Connor and slipped it discreetly inside the large pocket of their coat.

"...Thank you." Connor whispered weakly as he turned away from the figure. "You... saved Alec. If... If I don't s-survive, get those items b-back to Lieutenant Hank Anderson in D-Detroit. He's my... father. He... He needs to know that I... knew he was... trying to find me. He needs to know... I didn't give up, and I... had faith that he'd find me."

The figure seemed stunned by Connor's gratitude and trust, but didn't have the time to do anything else for Connor as the sound of someone approaching caused the figure to silently retreat back into the shadows out of sight.

Chance marched over to Connor and gave the deviant a stern glare. "Last match, 'Hunter'. On this night you'll die from your wounds in the arena before dawn. If you happen to win this match tonight, I'll kill you myself and watch the sunrise shine off your blood in the alleyway. I hope you're ready to die."

Connor held his head high and forced any lingering sign of pain from his soulful brown eyes just to spite Chance as he spoke in a level voice. "I'm a detective. I've been ready to give my life for greater causes and greater people than you."

"Bold words. Now, get out there and die like a good little robot."

Remaining fearless Connor stepped through the doorway and into the arena. The gathered crowd cheering loudly as their reigning champion made his grand entrance. Standing at the end of the arena with his hand over his bandaged chest Connor awaited for Gunner to make its own entrance from the opposite side of the arena.

'Tonight's main event is about to begin!' Chance boomed over the speakers in the walls. 'Our reigning champion; 'The Hunter', versus my personal strongman and absolute powerhouse, Gunner! We've had many champions rise and fall, but none have ever overpowered Gunner. But tonight, I feel like the 'Hunter' will break the streak. Place your bets!'

Connor shook his head as he realized that Chance had rigged every single fight that ever took place in the arena. Even if Connor were at full strength he wouldn't be able to overpower Gunner. There was no way anyone else would be able to do the same unless the match were rigged in their favor. Killing the champions and disposing of the bodies in Lake Michigan was the only way Chance could keep his tracks hidden.

Gunner made its entrance into the arena and gave Connor an indifferent stare. Pressing its right fist into its left palm Gunner loudly cracked their knuckles as it prepared to beat Connor to death with their bare strong hands. There would be no mercy, only blood.

"I'm not afraid." Connor defiantly told Gunner as he bravely stood his ground and approached the towering deviant. "Let's get this over with... I hate waiting."

True to her word Skye had been checking in with each contact she had throughout the city and outside the city for four consecutive days, but she had yet to find a single lead. Unwilling to give up the search so easily she took a new approach and reached out even further; going beyond the Canadian border. Remembering how Curtis Chapman, Rose's brother, had helped many other deviants across the border in Canada before the Revolution, Skye decided to branch out and look for other people who had helped protect deviants and expand her search beyond Detroit, the surrounding forest area just outside the city's limits, and well into Toronto.

From all over the lower portion of the state deviants reached out to Skye and began keeping vigil for Connor, as well as the other missing deviants. Reports of even more missing deviants began to pile up from the surrounding cities as well as unusual cases of dead deviants being found strewn about the area; and a pattern began to finally emerge. One that could possibly give the precinct a desperately needed lead.

"Markus, it's me." Skye called Markus cybernetically but spoke verbally to give him an update on her progress during the search. Her L.E.D. was still cycling in a distressed yellow as she used every resource she had her disposal to find the missing deviant. "I think I'm getting close to an answer. There's been a major surge in deviants vanishing from Eastern cities in a five hundred mile radius, and there's been an abnormal number of deviants being found murdered in Western cities in the same radius. I think someone is abducting deviants and killing them, and I think Connor accidentally stumbled on this while searching the shipping yard."

'Does Hank know?' Markus asked with a righteous concern audible in his words. 'I don't think he can handle it right now.'

"No, he doesn't know what I've found out. I'll tell him after I have a little more information." Skye was just as concerned as Markus but didn't dare show it as she wasn't very familiar with humans beyond the inappropriate interactions she was forced to endure at the 'Eden Club'. "I'm going to tip off the police in the other cities and let the Detroit police in on the search, too. I just hope they can keep it from Hank a little while longer."

'Let me know when you're going to speak with Hank, I want to go with you.'

"Yeah, of course. I'll keep you posted."

Skye ended the call and proceeded to hail an autonomous taxi to take her to the Western outskirts of the city to check in on her next contact more directly.

"...I just hope what I have to say isn't bad news."

Like deadweight Connor fell chest first to the center of the arena floor coughing harshly as blue blood flew from his lips and stained the floor beneath him. On shaking hands he tried to push himself back up from the ground but his limbs failed him as his every ounce of strength was beaten out of him by Gunner's powerful fists. As Connor lifted up his head back up, Thirium dripping from his mouth into a sapphire puddle underneath him, Gunner grabbed onto Connor by the back of his shoulders and tossed him over onto his back on the ground at his feet. Reaching down Gunner picked up Connor by the throat with its left hand and held Connor high into the air with one hand much to the crowd's delight.

Dangling helplessly in the air at arm's length from Gunner's body, Connor looked out at the blurry crowd of cheering humans with his one good eye over Gunner's head and let out a pathetic, breathy sigh. "...Get on with it."

"You're not afraid to die?"

"...Not today." Connor grabbed onto Gunner's strong wrist with both of his hands and glared at him directly in the eye as he spit blood into his face. "...If you think you can kill me, then kill me. Otherwise put me down."

"What in the hell are you fighting for?"

"...Family." Connor forced a sly, mocking smirk to his face as he held his stare on Gunner. "You'd know nothing of family or friendship, you're just a heartless, soulless machine. You're nothing more than a mindless piece of plastic that humans use for their own sick pleasure! You're pathetic tool..."

At that last insult Gunner reeled back its right fist as far as tit could before striking one final, damning blow against the center of Connor's chest. Connor's body flew out of Gunner's hand and crashed down in a limp, broken heap on the other side of the arena with an echoing 'thud'. Blood dripped from his mouth and nose as he laid motionless and defeated before the victorious Gunner...

"Had enough?"

Gunner taunted as it loomed over Connor, still waiting for its opponent to move. When Connor remained silent Gunner reached its hand down and pressed it against the center of Connor's chest with a heavy weight. It couldn't feel a heartbeat. With a sick smile it stood upright and raised its own fist high into the air with a misguided sense of triumph causing the crowd to cheer loudly.

"Who's pathetic, now?"

'Winner!' Chance boomed arrogantly over the speakers. 'Gunner!'

Gunner strutted about the arena as it gloated in the light of its victory before it reached down and grabbed Connor by the throat and dragged his body out of the arena to be disposed of later. A smear of blue blood stained the arena floor as Connor dragged away and the crowd continued its deafening approval of the barbaric display of forced violence.

From the shadows at the top of the arena the mysterious figure looked down and watched with remorse as Connor's body was unceremoniously removed from the arena by the very android who had beaten him to death, just to be disposed out in the alleyway behind the illegal arena. Shaking their head with great disapproval the figure took his leave of the arena as he patted his pocket where Connor's personal possessions had been kept safe.

Stressed beyond comparison Hank paced about the house anxiously as he was unable to calm his mind long enough to sleep or even sit down to watch the news for any reports that could potentially give him an answer on the missing deviants throughout the city. Rose sat on the couch with Sumo resting his head sadly over her leg as she watched her dear friend worrying himself to a near state of catatonia for hours on end.

"Maybe you should call the precinct."

"...No." Declining the suggestion Hank sighed as he walked behind the couch for the umpteenth time. "If they found anything they would've called me first."

"What about Skye? She could've found something by now."

Hank paused for a moment as he stepped back into the livingroom from the kitchen during his pacing. "I'm sure she's still looking. I honestly don't know her well enough to know how her mind works."

"Come here." Rose extended her hand over the back of the couch and waited for Hank to take it. As his rough, calloused hand grabbed onto her softer hand she squeezed his fingers lightly and spoke to him in a sweetly kind voice. "It's late, you need to sleep. You're going to exhaust yourself and make yourself sick if you keep this up."

"It's been five days. I can't just sit around and wait anymore."

"There's nothing else you can do. The precinct won't let you work the case and we don't even know where to begin looking, otherwise we'd both be out there searching the streets." Rose tightened her squeeze a little more and flashed Hank a reassuring smile. "Connor will find his way back home, I know it."

"...Yeah. I just-" Hank sighed and leaned over the back of the couch heavily and let his hair hang over his face. "I just have this feeling that something really horrible happened to him."

Using her other hand Rose ran her fingers through Hank's hair sympathetically and tried to get him to lay down. "Come here for a moment, you need to rest."

Slowly Hank moved around the back of the couch to sit down on the couch as Rose requested, pushing Sumo aside in the process. He her wrap her arm around his shoulders to pull him down so his head was resting atop her lap. As soon as was laying down Hank realized exactly how tired he truly was and began to drift off to sleep fairly quickly.

"Everything will be okay, honey."

Lightly Rose ran her fingers through his hair in a comforting manner and felt his body becoming heavier and heavier as he drifted off to a much needed sleep.

"Just try to be patient for a little while longer."

It was raining and the entire alleyway smelled of tainted Thirium, garbage, spilled fuel and wet bricks. There was no one else around and the poor lighting from the old street lamps made the alley the perfect exit for shady activities. No one could see a thing that would happen in the darkness of the alleyway, and no one would find a trace of a crime unless they specifically went into the alleyway for a close look. Even so, the relentless rain would wash away whatever traces were left behind and destroy any evidence that could bring a victim justice.

Chance watched as Gunner carried Connor's body out of the arena into the back alley and threw him into the bed of a large pick-up truck. Connor landed atop other broken android bodies that were destined for dismemberment and disposal in the unseen pauper's grave that had become Lake Michigan. The dead deviant was laying on his back over the dozens of broken, mangled and absolutely destroyed bodies and body parts without even the slightest bit of life coursing through his system. Connor looked like just another corpse.

"Cover up the bodies for now and get rid of them later." Chance ordered as he began checking for his canvas pouch holding his morphine stash. "Take 'em to the junkyard and stuff them inside cars slated for destruction this time. We don't want anyone seeing too much activity at the lake."

"Yes, Chance." Gunner threw a black tarp over the bodies and returned to the arena to join Chance inside the building to resume their illegal activities. "I will obey."

As the backdoor to the arena slammed shut the mysterious figure as well as Alec emerged from the shadowy depths of the alleyway and over to the back of the truck to check on the downed deviant detective.

"...Connor?" Alec whispered as he peeled back the tarp quietly and looked down at Connor's expressionless face. Putting his hand down over Connor's chest, over his heart, Alec waited for any sign of life; but none came. "No... Connor. Why did you do it?"

The figure gently pulled Alec back as they leaned down and pressed their ear against Connor's battered, bloody chest. Reaching out a hand they grabbed onto Alec's arm and nodded toward Connor.

"...H-He's alive?!"

The figure nodded once in confirmation.

"Connor, you bold bastard!" Alec laughed a little as he grabbed onto Connor's left arm and the figure grabbed onto Connor's right arm. Working together the two managed to lift Connor out of the back and truck and carry him down the alleyway to safety and away from the arena. "You saved my life, now it's my turn to do the same for you!"

Rose gently ran her hand through Hank's hair as the emotionally exhausted detective rested his head against her lap and continued to sleep. It was just past midnight and Rose herself was beginning to fall asleep on the couch, her head resting against the back of the cushion as she closed her eyes and began to drift off. As the temptation of sleep made itself an irresistible presence over the house the front door opened slowly, quietly, as Markus entered the small but loving home discreetly.

From the doorway Markus looked at Hank sleeping and quickly reconsidered speaking to him. He didn't want to disturb the senior detective, especially if that disturbance revolved around bad news.

"...Markus."

Rose whispered the deviant leader's name as he finally crept into the house and knelt on the floor between the couch and the coffee table. Sumo, who was laying on the floor where Markus had knelt, lifted his head and let out a single whimper in response to his arrival.

"What's going on? Do you know what may have happened to Connor?"

"Not yet." Markus responded honestly as kept his voice quiet. "Skye is checking in with her connections still. As of the moment, it doesn't look promising."

"Don't give up on him."

"I won't." His mismatched eyes fell on Hank and he shook his head a little. "How's Hank holding up?"

"He finally fell asleep about twenty minutes ago. He's worried sick and there's nothing I can do to ease his mind."

"I know how he feels." Markus nodded slowly as he let out a weary sigh in an empathetic response. "...Let him know we won't stop looking for Connor until he's back home. I promise."

"I will. Go do what you have to do, I'll stay here with Hank."

Placing his hand over Rose's arm Markus squeezed lightly before he stood up and exited the house as quietly as he entered.

"Markus?"

Stopping just before the front door he looked back at the kind woman and acknowledged her. "Yeah?"

"Tell North we're all thinking about her. And that we'll help her if she needs us."

"Thank you, Rose. I... I need to get back to her."

Rose let out a tired sigh of her own as Markus left the home with a heavy heart. As Rose lightly rested her head against the back of the couch and closed her eyes, her hand continued to lightly run through Hank's hair and she found herself now as weary and worried as Hank as they awaited any news on Connor's possible location and more importantly, his return.

The fear and hesitation in Markus's demeanor was less than encouraging but given the circumstances entirely understandable.

At least that's what she hoped.

Surrounded by absolute darkness Connor's mind was a heavy fog and his body was as numb as a ton of bricks. Through his one good eye his Connor found himself staring up at a blurry metal ceiling through red warnings as he body swayed along with a familiar rhythm with the entire room he was laying on the floor of. It was another train car. Unable to move or speak, Connor could only look about with him with his limited vision of the immediate world around him as he tried to understand what had happened to him while he was unconscious.

"Connor?" Alec's blurry face leaned down over Connor as he blinked slowly to acknowledge his friend's return. "You're really alive! I thought... Man, I thought you were dead."

With a weak sigh Connor was able to take in an equally weak breath and flinched at the stabbing pain in his chest.

"Don't worry, we'll get you back home. Our 'friend' helped me escape when Chance made you fight that other human's android, and then he helped me to hide in the alley behind the arena until it was safe to move."

Connor tried to look around past Alec but his eye was too damaged and he couldn't move his head at all.

"You're on another cargo train and we're heading back to Detroit. But we have to make an unusual stop along the way to make sure we don't run into anymore of Chance's goons at the shipping yard." Alec nodded with his head to an unseen location where their 'friend' was quietly observing the discussion. "Just try to rest, we'll take care of you while you try to heal as much as possible."

Lifting a weak hand up from the floor just enough to place his palm down over the center of his own chest, Connor managed to point down at the bandages over his heart and give Alec a pleading look.

"What's wrong? Are you in pain?"

Connor didn't blink but continued to point with a trembling finger to the center of his chest.

"Okay, hold on." Lightly Alec moved aside Connor's hand and began to tear open the already frayed and dirtied bandages from around the battered deviant's chest and upper abdomen. As the wraps were removed Alec found the glass shards of the smashed syringe and the broken off needle embedded in the white plastimetal frame of Connor's chest directly over his heart. "...What the hell?"

"...M-Morphine." Connor managed to utter with a hoarse, cracking voice. Swallowing once, a mouthful of collected blue blood running down his throat in the process, Connor tried to explain what had happened. "It... stuns an-android biocomponents, s-slows the heart. Imitates... shutdown."

"Shit, that's how you fooled Gunner." Alec laughed a little as he carefully pulled the needle from Connor's chest, ignoring the groan of pain as Connor reacted to the needle being extracted from his heart. Brushing aside the glass shards Alec examined the wounds under the bandages and kept a straight face even when his eyes noted the extensive cracks, fractures, breaks and torn up artificial skin beneath. "Rest for now, okay? We'll take care of you and get you to safety."

Too exhausted to say anything or even try to move his hand again, Connor's good eye closed and he fell into a critically needed rest mode while Alec and the mysterious figure remained vigil over him. The gentle swaying of the train car was almost soothing to the deviant's broken body as he lost what little strength he had previously regained while unconscious and drifted into the bliss nothingness of sleep.

Worried for her dearest friend Rose had stayed with Hank for as long as possible before she had to return home to take care of her greenhouse. With a kiss to his cheek Rose reluctantly said 'goodbye' and reminded Hank to call her if he ever needed anything; even it was just to talk. Alone in the house with only Sumo for the first time in years, Hank felt an eerie painful sense of deja vu; almost as if he were being forced to relive some of the most lonely, painful years of his life like a sick, cruel joke.

Sitting in the middle of the couch with Sumo staring up at him from his pillow in the corner of the livingroom with big, sad eyes, Hank truly felt alone in the world.

Nervously fidgeting with the phone in his right hand Hank sent another message to Connor out of a strange compulsion he couldn't explain. There was something about sending Connor messages, even though he had yet to receive a single reply in those past five days, that gave him a much needed sense of distraction and purpose.

'I'm still waiting for you to come back home, Connor.'

Send.

'I can report to the precinct tomorrow morning, I'd prefer to have you as my partner in the field. I won't even say anything about that stupid coin.'

Send.

'I don't know where you are or what happened, but I'm not mad. Just worried.'

Send.

'Please be okay.'

Send.

'I miss you, son.'

Send.

Typing out one last message Hank's thumb hovered over the 'send' button, but he couldn't bring himself to press it. Instead he let out a deep sigh and set aside the phone on the end table next to the couch and stood up slowly. Dragging his hand over his bearded chin Hank looked over at Sumo and gave the loyal dog a despondent glance.

Patting the side of his leg Hank ushered Sumo to follow him. "Come on, boy. Let's go get some sleep."

While the message remained unsent in the phone on the table Hank couldn't bring himself to delete it or change a single word even though he couldn't bring himself to actually send it. It was a message that would haunt Hank's subconscious as he tried his damnedest to get some sleep and try so very hard to go about his life, even if that meant Connor wasn't going to be there to watch his back or give him someone to talk to.

Falling onto his bed Hank closed his eyes and felt Sumo jump up onto the foot of the bed to cuddle down beside his legs. While the young dog was adequate enough company in Connor's absence it still wasn't the same as having the deviant he had taken in as his son to give him a reason to keep living.

The cruel reality was that Hank would have to return to a saddened life without his family and there was nothing he could do to change it.

The cargo train continued its journey East with its three secret deviant occupants hiding away in one of the two dozen cars that were in its tow. Relying solely on the cybernetically connected G.P.S. of the mysterious figure and Alec's kindness, Connor was completely defenseless to the world around him. Drifting in and out of consciousness Connor was unable to speak or react as Alec and the helpful second figure picked him up from the floor - using his limp arms around their shoulders to support his weight, as they slid open the side door of the train car and stood on the edge.

Alec looked down at the grassy terrain racing by only a foot down and held his breath. "So... We have to jump?"

The figure only nodded to confirm their next step in their journey.

"Okay... Okay!" Alec prepared to jump down as he tightened his grip around Connor's arm. "Can't be any worse than being forced to fight to the death. What's a little tumble down a grassy hillside?"

The figure held out their free hand and began counting down on their fingers from 'three'. As soon as their countdown reached 'one' the figure motioned for Alec to jump from the train and onto the relatively soft grass of the hillside.

As a clumsy and unusual group the two deviants; carrying Connor around their shoulders, leapt from the train and managed to slide gracelessly down the grassy hill and disappear into the nearby treeline as the train continued on its way without the trio of stowaway deviants seeking shelter within the unlocked train car.

"You hurt?" Alec asked the figure as he checked on Connor and patted some loose blades of grass from his clothing. "That was a rough landing."

The figure shook his head 'no'.

"Good, me neither." Pressing his hand down against the center of Connor's chest Alec was relieved to still feel the wounded deviant's heart beating under his shaking palm. "Connor is still hanging on, but where do we go now?"

The figure pointed to a thin trail hidden amongst the trees and the overgrowth of nearby shrubbery. It was a path that any human would overlook but to an android the path was as plain as day.

"All right..." Alec shifted his posture to accommodate Connor's deadweight while the helpful figure did the same from the other side. "Let's get going then."

Having exhausted her connections throughout the city and at the deviant shelters, Skye had returned to New Jericho for the night. Her search was showing a promising lead but nothing definitive as she checked in with all of her contacts throughout the city and scattered along the outskirts in the forest. While her contacts have sworn to remain vigilant for any sign of Connor and the other missing deviants, the lack of progress was disheartening for the compassionate deviant.

She loathed having to come back to the tower completely empty handed.

"...Hey, Simon." Skye sighed as she entered the tower and found the blond deviant technician working with Josh to keep the building's reconstruction on schedule. Her yellow L.E.D. was now blinking an exhausted red and a bad sign for any deviant to show. "It was a long day."

"No luck?" Simon rhetorically asked as she approached the duo acting as leaders during Markus and North's temporary leave of absence. "Anything?"

"No. Not a damn trace of Connor or the other missing deviants anywhere in the city." Skye's admission was accompanied by a heavy heart. "This doesn't make any sense! How could so many deviants go missing and no one notice it until now?"

"I don't know."

Josh put his hand on Skye's shoulder sympathetically as he finished filling out the details on the electronic tablet in his opposite hand. "It's okay. We're all going to work harder to keep one another safe. Even the deviants outside of the tower will have improved security."

Skye reached up and patted Josh's hand over her shoulder appreciatively. "Yeah, I just wish we had thought of a way to keep connected before this happened."

"Us, too." Simon agreed as he held up his own technician's tablet and ran a quick scan over Skye's form. "You're running on low power; you're down to less than eighteen percent power as a whole! Is something wrong?"

"I kept cybernetically communicating all over the city today." Skye admitted as she ran her hand through her long brunette hair to work out a small knot in her shiny locks. "I didn't have time to rest during my search."

"Well, you do now. Don't run yourself into the ground." Simon lightly grabbed onto her right arm to escort her to the tower's newly remodeled and enhanced dispensary that had moved to sublevel one for the sake of convenience. "I want to make sure you're resting properly. We need all the help we can get until Markus and North return."

"How is North?" Skye dared to ask as she and Simon entered the elevator together. "Is she getting any better?"

"She's... She's strong." He replied without actually answering the question. "If anyone can handle what's going on, it's her."

Moving through the darkness of the forest Alec and the masked figure carried Connor over their shoulders as they made their way deeper along the hunting trail until they found themselves bathed in the warm amber glow of a intense bonfire in a clearing amongst the trees. The center of the spacious clearing held the roaring fire and small, recently constructed wooden cabins outlined the circle while reclusive deviants kept to themselves within the humble structures. There were seven cabins in total, and each cabin sheltered homeless deviants from the unforgiving elements of nature surrounding them from all sides.

As the trio entered the cleared circle the figure motioned for Alec to wait with Connor while they alone approached the largest of the seven cabins at a rapid pace.

"Connor? Are you still with me?" Alec asked as he pressed his free hand to the deviant's chest. "I think our 'friend' is getting us some help."

The figure exited the cabin calmly and stood outside the opened door as two other deviants, both female, rushed from the cabin and over to where Alec was still standing with Connor at his side. The two new deviants helped Alec to carry Connor over to the large cabin while assessing both of their overall physical conditions along the way.

"What's your name?" The deviant a 'WK-400' model sporting long blue colored hair and dark brown eyes asked as she pressed her fingertips to Alec's right temple where his L.E.D. had once been. "My name is Amy."

"A-Alec." Introducing himself with a shaking voice Alec then motioned to Connor at his side. "This is Connor."

"Connor... I think I know him." Amy stated in a curious tone. "Don't worry, we'll take care of both of you." She insisted sincerely as she and her companion guided him and Connor toward the central and largest cabin. "This is my dearest friend, Suki. We're refugees from Jericho and are here to help all wayward deviants who need shelter and aid."

"Thank you."

Alec was grateful for the help as he was shown to a nearby smaller cabin while Connor was carried into the largest cabin by Suki and, once more, by their mysterious 'friend'.

"Bring him over here." Suki, another 'WR-400' with shorter auburn hair and hazel eyes, directed the figure as they carried Connor into the cabin. "She's busy right now with another deviant afflicted with 'Groupware Blight v.1', but she will see to him, soon. I'll let Anne know you're back."

Connor, completely unconscious and heavy, was placed on the bed gently by the two deviants who had carried him inside the cabin. Laying on his back, his arms sprawled at his sides and his jaw partially slack from weakness, Connor looked as though he had already shutdown and couldn't be woken back up. As Connor laid on the bed Suki took her leave of the cabin to check in on Alec next door while the enigmatic figure removed their hat, scarf, gloves and unzipped their heavy winter coat.

Revealing a small phone that had been contained in their back jean pocket, the figure located a name in their contact list and sent the name a text regarding their current location and an update on their situation.

Draping their coat off onto the nearby chair the figure reached into the coat's pocket and removed Connor's tie, still wrapped carefully around the broken phone and the borrowed watch, with a careful grip. Placing the items down on the small table at the head of the bed the figure stepped back and kept vigil over Connor as they awaited their refugee healer to return to the cabin to tend to Connor.

Unable to sleep any longer Hank stared up at the ceiling overhead blankly as he folded his hands neatly atop his chest and fell into deep contemplation regarding a life without Connor being there to keep him on the right track and to keep him sober along the way. There was no denying that Hank had been on a one way path of self destruction long before Connor showed up in his life. It was only after Connor began spending time with Hank and treated Hank like he was still a respected detective and not a washed-up-has-been did Hank finally see Connor as a living being, not a heartless machine that was easy to hate and blame for all of his problems.

Turning his head slightly against the pillow he looked at the digital display of the clock on the nightstand beside his bed and sighed angrily at the early morning hour: 03:32am.

"Shit... Might as well call the fuck off now."

Hank thought out loud his voice rousing Sumo up from the foot of the bed. As the young dog pressed his chin down over Hank's shin to look at Hank's face he let out a little whimper and licked at Hank's arm.

"Hi, Sumo. All right, come on." Patting the side of the bed he invited the overgrown puppy up a little higher on the bed. "Up, boy."

Sumo happily scooched up the bed so his chin was resting on Hank's shoulder instead. As his tail wagged happily a rhythmic thumping sound echoed through the dark bedroom that accompanied Hank's tired, heavy breathing.

"I know you miss sleeping on Connor's bed." Hank sympathized with a level voice. "Don't get used to it, though. This is a one time event since I could use the company, too. Just turn your face away so I don't have smell dog breath all night."

Getting some rest as she had been instructed, Skye was curled up on her left side on a soft warm bed in the tower's dispensary when she received a cybernetic message from one of her contacts from the outskirts of the city. The message was set to high priority and promptly awoke her from rest mode with a jolt. Sitting upright quickly on the bed Skye noted the bizarre time of the extremely early morning hour and swung her legs over the edge of the bed to respond to the message quickly.

Simon had retired to his private quarters for the night and was no longer keeping an eye on her as she rested, or in this case, awoke.

Free and clear to leave the tower, Skye departed from the dispensary and hailed an autonomous taxi to meet her at the end of the drive to New Jericho Tower to take her to the point of designation in the message. It was her first and only lead, and she wasn't going to let the trail grow cold.

"This better not be another dead end."

Skye muttered to herself as she hurried down the drive to her awaiting taxi and made sure no one was following after her as she jogged. Her red L.E.D. had returned to yellow as she regained some energy, but was still too worried to have the color settle on the healthier shade of blue.

"We need hope, not disappointment!"

A gentle and familiar hand rested lightly over Connor's overheating forehead as the damaged deviant slowly regained consciousness for the first time since returning to the Detroit area. Still unable to cybernetically connect to the world around him and unable to access his own Mind Palace, Connor felt lost even as he returned to the waking world around him. Looking up at the blurry face of the appointed deviant healer watching over him Connor found himself oddly familiar with her presence and a little shocked to her again.

"...L-" Connor's already weak voice was cut off as pain and ebbing strength stole away his words before he even had the chance to speak. "...Lucy?"

"Shh..." She soothed kindly as she ran her hand through Connor's hair sweetly. "You must rest. Save your strength." Pressing an opened bottle of Thirium to Connor's lips Lucy slipped her right hand under his head to help him sit up enough to drink without choking. "You must drink this, it'll help restore what you lost and allow your body to heal."

Supporting as much of his own weight as possible as Lucy guided him upright, Connor tentatively drank some of the offered Thirium but quickly lost his strength and needed to lay down again. Lucy didn't allow him to do so.

"No, drink all of it."

Connor's body began to tremble as he forced himself to finish off the Thirium before practically collapsing back into the bed from his lack of strength.

"I know it hurts to move, and I know you do not have much strength." Lucy sympathized as she put the now empty bottle of Thirium down on the table next to Connor's personal items. "But I also know of what you are, what you have become and what you aspire to be. You are safe here and among friends."

"H-How did you-" Connor swallowed once as he tried to clear his strained throat. "...Jericho?"

"I was saved." Lucy nodded to the figure standing with their arms crossed over their chest in the corner of the cabin. "Many of us were saved after the Raid. I was found and carried to safety and brought her here. And many others soon followed because of his courage."

Shifting his focus past Lucy's face Connor was able to see the fuzzy but also familiar face of the mysterious figure who had helped him and Alec to escape. "Ru... Rupert."

"Hello, Connor." Rupert confirmed in a expressionless voice as he confirmed his identity. "I'm not surprised you remember me, but I am surprised that you didn't catch me when we first met."

"H-Hank... Danger."

"Yeah, that human partner of yours." Rupert almost sounded disappointed by Connor's admission. "I saw you pull him back over the roof. I guess I should be grateful. If you had caught me I would've self destructed to get away from you and many other deviant refugees would've been lost."

Connor tried to speak again but a deep cough from his single remaining ventilation biocomponent stole his voice once more. Lucy pressed her left hand down over Connor's battered chest and monitored his pump rate and the struggling breaths he was fighting to take as he coughed violently against his will.

"Don't move." Lucy cautioned as she supported Connor until his coughing fit passed. "You have suffered many injuries to your internal biocomponents."

Unable to speak Connor nodded a little. Lucy's right hand remaining pressed against his forehead despite his movement was somehow grounding.

Lucy waited for Connor to settle down before she lightly pressed her hands along his abdomen, causing Connor flinch under her touch and stifle groans of pain, as she check on his internal damage. As her hands reached his battered bloodied chest Connor let out a sharp inhaling gasp of agony before the severe pain caused him to suddenly lose consciousness once more. His head lolling limply to the side against his pillow was the most motion the deviant could muster in his moment of weakness.

"He needs time to heal." Lucy told Rupert while remaining entirely composed and in control. "I do not have the necessary equipment to repair the damage here."

"...I'll get some more Thirium."

As Rupert stepped away from the corner of the cabin Lucy called out to him with a somewhat stern voice.

"Rupert. What he did to you, he did as a machine. What he did for our people, he did as a deviant; as one of us." Lucy lifted her right hand from Connor's chest and returned it to his forehead with a nurturing touch. "Forgive him and let your anger go."

Without another word Rupert exited the cabin leaving Lucy alone with Connor for the remainder of the late night as the deviant detective struggled just to survive his injuries and recover.

Exhausted yet completely wired and alert, Hank stared at his alarm clock at the hour switched from 06:59am to 07:00am exactly. Tired but indifferent to the loud noise of the clock going off, Hank slowly slammed his hand down top of the clock to silence the blaring alarm without a care in the world. Sitting up with a fatigued motion Hank dropped his other hand over Sumo's head and rubbed the dog's ears affectionately. As Sumo let out a long, sleepy yawn Hank couldn't help but laugh at the massive puppy's behavior.

"At least one of us got some damn sleep."

Running a hand through his messy locks of gray hair Hank swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood upright, ignoring the lingering protest of pain in his lower back.

"Come on, I'll let you out and then I'll go back to the bullpen. Bullpen..."

Hank repeated to himself as he wandered out of the bedroom. Sumo jumped off the bed and followed Hank right at his heels loyally.

"Fitting name for all the bullshit we- I have to put up with every damn day."

As soon as the backdoor opened up Sumo ran out into the backyard for the morning while Hank filled up the dog's bowls with food and fresh water before walking into Connor's bedroom to feed the fish in his aquarium yet again.

Setting foot back into the hallway Hank heard Sumo's nails clicking over the linoleum floor in the kitchen to check out his freshly filled bowls.

"Shit, it took me almost two years to train the first Sumo to come back inside without someone calling him."

Hank patted Sumo's back as he walked past the dog to get to the backdoor and shut it again.

"Connor trained you pretty damn well."

Looking for a distraction Hank glanced at the mess collecting in the kitchen due to his own negligence of the housework. What few meals Hank had bothered to eat had created a modest pile of dirty dishes in the sink, the garbage can under the sink needed to be changed and the stacks of empty fast food bags and empty cartons needed to be thrown away later. The kitchen and livingroom floors needed to be mopped up after Hank and Sumo both tracked mud into the house and Sumo's fur needed to be vacuumed off the furniture.

"Man. This place is starting to look pretty rough."

The bottle of whiskey that Rose had taken from his grip still sat idle on the kitchen counter unopened, untouched, but ever present. It taunted Hank from afar and reminded him of how weak he still felt when faced with emotional turmoil.

"...Wish she took that damn thing with her."

Wandering down the hallway once more Hank opened the bathroom door and flipped on the light just to be greeted by a mess of wet, moldy smelling towels collected on the bathroom floor and a bathtub ringed with soap scum. Another chore he had neglected during his understandable depression.

"I should call off sick and clean the house."

Hank crossed his arms over his chest as looked over at his mess, then promptly ignored it as he slipped off his shirt and sweatpants to shower before work. Turning on the hot water Hank sighed and just closed his eyes as the clean water washed over his face.

"Ah, fuck it. Messes happen and I'll get around to cleaning them up eventually..."

In a fading daze Connor's only good eye opened partially as he felt something warm and soothing running along his right arm, only to become aware of something cold resting over his already too warm forehead. As he regained his senses he glanced to his right where he saw Lucy was using a warm damp towel to wash the lingering blood, dirt, mud and grime from his artificial skin in a delicate manner to clean him up a little. It felt nice to have something warm and gentle pressing against his aching body. Whatever embarrassment Connor might've felt for getting a sponge-bath didn't even registered in his pained mind as he tried to rest and recover.

"Your system is struggling to repair itself. Your body is fighting to heal." Lucy's voice was as composed as ever even with her natural electronic reverb as she sensed Connor's eye watching her. "The damage you suffered was devastating, but you are strong and you now have something to fight for."

Swallowing once Connor blinked slowly as he replied in a raspy voice. "...T-Tired of fighting."

"Yes, I know." She smiled as she placed his arm back down on the bed at his side before walking to the other side of the bed to repeat the action for his left arm. "I can sense you have a tranquil soul and only wish to live with quiet dignity, but with that soul comes a warrior's heart. You wish to protect those you care about, those you've come to know as friends and even family. You are a guardian by nature."

Connor's good eye again blinked slowly as he watched Lucy tending to his wounds. "...I think the other deviants consider me a villain. A traitor."

"And what do you consider yourself to be?" Lucy asked as she finished cleaning his arm and focused with careful, ginger attention to his horribly battered chest still covered in dried, but evaporating Thirium and mud. "Who are you?"

"I'm... I'm just... Connor." Absentmindedly Connor's eye drifted to the table beside him where he could just barely see the watch wrapped up in his tie and next to the broken phone. "Detective... Connor... Henry Anderson."

"A surname." Lucy smiled as she pressed the deviant to answer in a gentle voice. "Or is that a family name?"

"Yes. Named after... my father."

"You mentioned the name 'Hank' earlier when Rupert was here. You spoke the name twice more during your fever dreams. Hank is your father?"

"Yes. Saved me. Guided me... on the right path." Connor's eye blinked again but didn't reopen as his body flinched with painful responses every time Lucy's hand even so much as brushed past his chest. "Took me in. Gave me a home. A family."

"You trust him?"

"With my life."

"Where is Hank now?"

Connor let out a breathy sigh as he fell back asleep, his body unable to retain consciousness for too long as he fought to heal. "...Home."

Lucy turned her gaze and saw Rupert standing in the opened doorway of the cabin watching as she tended to Connor's wounds, hearing every word that Connor had spoken to hear before falling unconscious. "Rupert?"

"It's okay, Lucy. I know."

"You heard?"

"Yeah." Rupert confirmed as he walked over to the bed and looked down at Connor's bruised face sympathetically. "And I had already seen it back in Chicago. He wanted me to save Alec first and even risked poisoning himself to increase his chances of leaving that final fight alive. Alec told me how Connor had been taken because he was investigating the deviant disappearances in the city and how Connor took care of him after every brutal fight he survived."

"You see him as you should? As one of us?"

"Yeah, so do Amy and Suki." Rupert gave Lucy a somewhat amused grin. "Amy told me that Connor was the one who spared her and Suki the night they killed that human and fled from the 'Eden Club' before the Revolution."

Lucy gave Rupert an approving grin at his ability to forgive and to let go of his lingering anger toward Connor for his past as the infamous 'Deviant Hunter'.

"...You were right, Lucy."

Nodding subtly Lucy rested her hand over Connor's chest for a moment to check his heartbeat and his ventilation rate. "And your message? What will become of it?"

Rupert shrugged nonchalantly as he stepped back through the opened door. "We'll see what happens. Right now, I need to meet with Anne regarding our supplies and her contact back in the city."

Reluctantly Hank returned to the precinct with a notable chip on his shoulder and heavy grimace on his face. Without even bothering to check in with Captain Fowler, acknowledge Chris, Tina or Ben who had always been on good terms with him, and without even reacting to Gavin's usual smug facade as he entered the bullpen, Hank took his seat behind his desk and turned on his terminal with a begrudging press of a button. Noticing the empty desk across from his own Hank turned his chair so he was facing the side of his own desk and not across from Connor's as he set about sifting through the staggering pile of paperwork and reports he needed to catch up on.

Even with Connor having taken care of an impressive portion of the pile before his disappearance the mountainous paperwork was still going to consume all of Hank's time and focus. In a way it was a blessing to Hank's overworked mind.

"...Never thought I'd be so happy to deal with fuckin' bureaucratic bullshit."

Discreetly Hank pulled his phone from his coat pocket and looked down at the unsent message still sitting idle on the screen.

Still unwilling to press 'send' just yet, Hank simply pocketed the phone and sighed despondently as he reluctantly began his work.

Alone.

"...I fuckin' miss ya', kid. I need you to keep me from losing my goddamn mind and I need it to happen now."

Reaching her destination at last, Skye stepped out of the autonomous taxi on what seemed to be an desolate stretch of road on the Western outskirts of the city, but she knew the exact location of hidden trail that would lead her from the road and into the depths of a deviant refugee camp. Pulling the hood of her forest green jacket up over her long brown hair that ran down her back and covered her yellow L.E.D., Skye disappeared into the treeline and kept to the trail as she jogged along in search of her contact.

Toying with the idea of reporting her update to either Markus or Hank before deciding against it, Skye hastened her pace and kept her full attention on the trail before her.

"...Please be here!"

Speaking to herself as she made her way down the trail Skye dared to hold on to hope and have an optimistic outlook.

"We need you to be here."

Feverish and pained Connor panted for breath as his system began to drastically overheat from his inability to breathe properly, as well as other internal complications. The deplorable conditions in which Connor and Alec were kept during their captivity in Chicago combined with the exposure to foreign matter from being covered in mud and dirt, had seeped into the exposed fractures of Connor's battered chest forcing his self healing program to sanitize the affected biocomponents with his depleted Thirium to be expelled later on. Unfortunately the massive loss of Thirium that Connor had previously suffered made the expulsion program fail to initiate and in turn caused a lack of proper Thirium flow to his thermal regulator.

"H-Hank?!" Connor managed to croak out pathetically as his one good eye glazed over and failed to focus on a single thing in the cabin. His shaking right hand reached out into nothingness as his processors became overwhelmed by heat and confusion. "...Hank?"

"Shh..." Lucy soothed again as she dabbed an icy cool cloth against Connor's face, down his neck and over his chest. "You're overheating, you must try to remain as still as possible."

Connor either couldn't hear Lucy or didn't understand her as he continued to reach out for something, perhaps someone, unseen.

There was a knocking at the cabin door as Alec entered the cabin with two bottles of chilled Thirium in his hands. "Rupert said this should help Connor." Alec was sporting a few bruises over his face and his hands, but unlike Connor his wounds were healing at a steady pace. "Can I do anything else to help?"

"Yes, please." Lucy motioned to Connor as she kept the cold towel pressed down over his chest. "Help him to drink."

"Yeah, no problem." Alec handed one of the bottles to Lucy as he knelt beside the bed and opened the second bottle himself. "Hey, Connor? We're here to help you, man."

As Lucy gently took hold of Connor's hand and held it to try to comfort the ailing deviant, Alec put his hand under Connor's shoulders and propped him upright to offer the Thirium.

"Come on, you need to drink this." Alec encouraged as he tried to get Connor to drink the cold Thirium. "It'll make you feel better."

Connor couldn't focus on Alec and continued to pant desperately for breath. He was lost in the throes of a feverish delirium and was too confused to answer.

Rupert entered the cabin and this time he wasn't alone. "Lucy, she's here."

Moving quickly Skye walked into the cabin right behind Rupert and immediately locked on to Connor laying in the bed lost in the heat of a potentially deadly fever. "Connor?!" Rushing over to the bed Skye pulled down her hood to reveal her now red L.E.D. and put both of her hands on the sides of Connor's too warm and battered face, her palms subsequently stinging from the intense heat radiating from his artificial skin as she tried to get him to focus on her. "Connor, look at me! It's Skye."

Unresponsive and lost to the heat overwhelming his mind Connor seemed like he was on the brink of imminent shutdown.

"H-Hank..." Connor wheeze pathetically as he fought through the fever overwhelming his mind. "I want... to go home."

"Hank is waiting for you to go home." Skye reminded Connor as she forced her voice to steady itself. "But you need to recover enough to be moved, okay? I'll take you to see him as soon as possible."

Thinking quickly Skye looked around for any sign of a phone; the very phone Hank mentioned giving Connor when he went to the tower seeking answers. Spotting the small electronic device on the table, its battery critically low, Skye picked it up and held it toward Connor's good eye so he could see the cracked but functional screen himself.

"Hank said he's been texting you, he wants you to come home! Look."

At those words Connor seemed to calm a little and his glazed eye cleared up slightly as he glanced at the screen, then to the face of the deviant holding it. "...S-Skye." His breathing calmed, became deeper and became slower. "...Hank?"

"Yes, that's right." She smiled happily at him as she caused the artificial skin over her left index finger to recede long enough to give the phone a charge. Putting the phone back down on the table she kept speaking to Connor directly. "As soon as you're well enough to move I'll take you back to Detroit so you can be with Hank again."

"...Home?"

"Yes! But please, you have to drink the Thirium and rest. Only then will you be strong enough to move."

"D-Does Hank know... I'm... here?"

"No, he doesn't. I just got here." Skye noticed the Thirium in Alec's hand and nodded toward Connor. "Would you like me to call him?"

Connor's good eye seemed to search Skye for a moment before he answered. "I want to... tell him myself. Tell him... I'm alive."

"Okay, get some rest and you can talk to Hank yourself. I promise."

A ghost of a smile appeared on Connor's face as he took in a shuddering breath and forced himself to keep breathing despite the pain.

Alec gently placed the bottle of Thirium against Connor's lips and coaxed his wounded friend into finally drinking the critically needed blue blood. As the chilled sapphire tinted Thirium slowly replaced what Connor had lost, Lucy could feel Connor's core temperature beginning to lower steadily.

"It's working." Dipping the towel down into a basin of icy cold water on the floor beside the bed, Lucy refreshed the compress and laid it out over Connor's chest and abdomen to help him to cool down further. She watched as Alec provided Connor with the second bottle of Thirium to help him recover. "It will take some time but he will heal enough to return to his home."

Skye retracted her hand from the side of Connor's face as the two bottle of Thirium were depleted and the exhausted deviant was guided back down against the bed to continue to rest. "I'll stay here and make sure he recovers."

"You seem upset." Lucy studied Skye's demeanor curiously as the red L.E.D. cycled back to yellow. "What troubles your mind?"

Skye stood upright from the bed and glanced down at the phone and all of the messages that Connor had received but couldn't reply to. "I don't like not telling Hank where Connor is, but..."

"You made a promise."

"Yeah."

"Do not worry." Lucy pleaded as she smiled down at Connor's suddenly peaceful expression as he rested more comfortably on the bed. "All that stands between your promise and your honor is time itself."

The miserably lonely day had come to an end and Hank found himself sitting behind the wheel of the car as he sat parked out in front of 'Jimmy's Bar'. It had been two and half years since he last set foot inside that bar with the intent of getting drunk, and it had been almost one year since he and Connor had gone to the bar just to unwind after a long shift and try to forget about the atrocities they had witnessed that day. But on that day all Hank could think about was getting drunk. He wanted to drown the already smothering sorrow and pain he thought he had moved past at long last in a sea of whiskey and sink to the bottom of the bottle.

The encroaching darkness of the night settled in over the city with a quiet ambience. It was almost peaceful save for the sirens blaring on the other side of town and the drunk slurs of some unfortunate asshole who just got tossed from the bar in question.

As his hand reached for the key to turn off the engine Hank's eyes fell back to his phone and to the unsent message sitting on the screen just waiting for someone to press 'send'. Looking at the front door of the bar and looking at the faded mark that had once been a "No Android" sign on the aged paint of the door, Hank couldn't help but think back to the first night he and Connor first met.

Hank also thought of the night he pulled a gun on Connor after investigating the 'Eden Club'.

Connor's words were still vivid in his mind. Still clear and genuinely concerned as the night they were originally uttered.

*'Why are you so determined to kill yourself?'*

"Some things I just can't forget..." Hank whispered to himself in an eerie echo of the past. "Fuck!"

Shifting the car from park and into gear Hank pulled back onto the street and headed out back to the house.

"Even when he's not here he can still get in my head."

As Hank drove home he continued to speak to Connor as if the deviant were still right there next to him in the front passenger seat.

"All right kid, I'm staying sober even without you hovering over me. I'm keeping my word so you better keep yours and get you ass home..."

Alec and Rupert stood outside of the cabin while Skye and Lucy tended to Connor inside. There were no further complications or setbacks in Connor's recovery which was a positive sign, but his lack of overall progress was still concerning the group of deviants who had taken vigil over him. While Amy and Suki proceeded to guide other wayward deviants to shelter in the other nearby cabins, Rupert kept tabs on reports of other missing deviants and their possible locations through the mutual contacts he shared with Skye.

The other deviants who knew of Connor's presence at the refugee camp kept a wide distance and never bothered to check in on him. It was clear many deviants, like Rupert, were still having trouble forgiving the deviant for what he had done as a machine.

"Damn it." Rupert swore as his personal phone lit up with another notification of other deviants being taken to Chicago. He couldn't stay at the refuge any longer, he needed to return to the city and rescue the other deviants just as he had done for Connor and Alec. "I need to go." Putting his hand on Alec's shoulder the austere rescuer asked for a single favor before departing. "Tell Skye that I've gone back to Chicago to free more deviants. Let her know that others are still in danger and that I'll direct them to here and then over to New Jericho."

"I will." Extending his hand to Rupert as a sign of respect Alec bid his rescuer the best of luck. "Be safe."

"Of course. Get back to Detroit, okay?"

"Yeah. I'll leave tomorrow."

Rupert zipped up his heavy coat and replaced the gloves over his hands, the hat over his head and the scarf over his face to completely conceal his identity. Without a single complaint of the uncomfortable heat from wearing such numerous thick layers, Rupert disappeared into the night back down the trail from whence he led Alec and Connor to safety.

Peering inside the cabin Alec watched as Skye carefully wrapped fresh, clean bandages around Connor's abdomen and very carefully added more bandages around his chest. Without Connor being able to run a proper self diagnostic and without any of the equipment of a proper facility, it was impossible to tell how severe all of Connor's injuries truly were.

"Uh, Connor lost function of his left ventilation biocomponent back at the arena." Alec stated with a grim facade as he addressed Skye where he stood. "I don't know what else he suffered, everything was so messed up."

Skye nodded appreciatively at Alec as she finished applying the fresh bandages to Connor's chest. "He's breathing okay for the moment, but we have to keep him cool with compresses."

"I'll see if there's anymore ice."

"Wait, Alec." Skye stopped him before he had the chance to disappear from her sight. "Are you okay?"

"All thing's considered, yeah, I'm okay. Thanks for asking."

"That's good. I'll summon a taxi in the morning to take you back to the city."

"Thanks, Skye. Do... Do you want me to do anything once I'm back?"

"Yeah, actually. Go to New Jericho and ask them to relay this message to Markus and North, 'engage protocol harbor'. They'll understand."

"Anything else?"

"Go to the police and tell them what happened in Chicago, but DON'T tell anyone about finding Connor."

"W-Why?" Such a request seemed incredibly outlandish. "He saved my life and he's a cop, too."

"...It's complicated."

"All right." Alec already respected Connor too much to not obey the request. "I won't say anything about Connor."

"Thank you."

"I'll go find more ice."

As Alec left the doorway Skye carefully returned her attention to Connor and gently pressed her hand to his blackened eye to inspect the damage. While it wasn't as severe as Connor suffering the equivalent to a collapsed lung, it was still very painful and hindered his overall sight.

Lucy smiled at Skye as she checked on Connor, noticing the subtle movement of Skye's other hand resting atop Connor's limp hand affectionately. "He is stable and resting well. You should do the same."

"...He's been gone for so long and everyone just assumed that he, like so many of the other deviants..." Skye confessed that she had been worried for Connor's safety and didn't want to leave his side. "We thought he was dead."

"No one is truly gone as long as you remember them and believe in everything they stood for."

"You mean like justice and equality?"

"Is that was he believes in?"

"Of course. Without his help on the night of the Revolution..." She trailed off as she thought of her own struggles on that historic night. "It's hard to believe one deviant could have such a profound effect on so many people, and yet he did. Just like Markus had done even before the Revolution ever happened."

"Markus is a natural leader, just as Connor is a natural guardian. They need each other to stay strong." Lucy reached out her hand and rested it atop Skye's shoulder with a genuine kindness in her touch. "What about you? Do you know who you are?"

"...I like to think that I do."

"And who is that?"

"A survivor. Someone who knows about the injustices of the world and wants to do everything I can to protect others from the same fate."

"A commendable role to take, however, be wary of your choices." Lucy cautioned as if she could see something no one else could. "Surviving death doesn't mean death doesn't continue to prey upon those who dare to defy it."

Alec returned to the cabin with two large bags of ice and some fresh cool water. "This is all that can be spared for now."

"That's plenty." Lucy reassured the kind deviant as she took his hand and held it in her own. "Go get some rest. We will watch over Connor."

"You're certain?" His eyes looked over to Connor, to his friend, worriedly. "I can stay if you need my help."

"Yes. Go."

"Okay, and Skye," Alec turned to look at her with a renewed brimming confidence in his blue eyes. "I'll keep my word."

"I know you will." Accepting the ice from Alec's steady hands Skye placed one bag of ice over Connor's abdomen to ensure he stayed cool while placing the second bag over his forehead. "I'll see you off in the morning, Alec."

"Goodnight." Alec squeezed Lucy's hand before letting go as a sign of respect and appreciation. "Thank you. For everything."

Lucy returned her attention to Skye and watched as she finished tending to Connor. "You are a fighter, Skye. It's in your nature to protect those you care about, even if you're still too shy, too wary admit it for yourself."

"I know. And right now," Skye ran her hand over Connor's unruly dark hair before she rose from the bed with her head held high. "I'm fighting for my friend."

Back in Detroit where everything seemed to be going about in a relatively normal manner, Hank had found a deeply seated sorrow in his self imposed isolation as he found himself going through a second consecutive shift without Connor to watch his back. Unwilling to work with anyone else as his partner and fresh from his return from the injured reserve list, Hank wasn't permitted to take part in any field investigations and was stuck at his desk finishing paperwork and reports until his eyes bled.

"Hank." Captain Fowler's voice pierced through the imaginary walls that Hank had put up all around himself. "My office."

Initially Hank wanted to ignore the order and continue the monotonous task of dealing with annoying paperwork, but since he found himself feeling more alone than usual he decided to obey his superior officer and meet him in his office. Walking into the glass office and pulling the door closed behind himself, Hank walked over to the chair on the opposite side of Captain Fowler's desk and sat down heavily with palpable disdain.

"What do you want, Jeffrey?" Hank's voice was gruff, almost bored, as he impolitely addressed his commanding officer. Folding his arms over his chest Hank leaned back in the chair and stared at the desk in front of him rather than bothering to lock eyes with the person he was indifferently speaking. "I have a lot of shit to catch up on."

"Hank, yesterday one of the missing deviants returned to the city." Captain Fowler sounded as melancholy as Hank looked. "His name is Alec and he told us a horror story about being taken to Chicago and forced to fight in some kind of underground illegal arena."

"...What?" Hank's arms slowly fell away from his chest and leaned forward with sudden interest. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"We sent a small team to investigate the area that the deviant, Alec, told us about. We used the coordinates from his internal G.P.S. and found a horror show of illegal gambling, drugs, violence, and death. The man responsible for the fights has been arrested and will be brought up on dozens of charges. Hundreds more have been arrested for their participation in the fights and kidnapping deviants."

"...Connor?"

Captain Fowler hesitated before he opened the bottom left drawer of his desk and retrieved a plastic evidence bag containing the torn blue blood stained remnants of Connor's white dress shirt. "...He was there."

Snatching the bag from Captain Fowler's hand Hank just stared at the ruined garment with a sickened knot tightening in the pit of his stomach. "Where is he?"

"We don't know."

"Don't fuck with me, Jeffrey!"

"I'm not, Hank. There was no other sign of Connor inside the arena and his body wasn't-" Hank's eyes darted up and fixated on Captain Fowler's with an enraged stare that caused Captain Fowler to pause momentarily before continuing his explanation. "Connor wasn't among the dead. But we don't know where else he could've gone or where to look."

"What did this 'Alec' have to say about it?"

"He didn't say anything about Connor, but he did say there was another deviant locked up with him who helped him and protected him."

"Sounds like Connor to me."

"Yeah, that's what I thought."

Hank stared at the ruined shirt silently for a few seconds before speaking again. "How did they end up in Chicago?"

"There were men working for the head of the arena at the shipping yard. From there they would abduct deviants, tie them up and throw them in cargo trains heading West."

"Connor said he was at the shipping yard and two men trapped him..."

"Makes sense."

"No, Jeffrey." Hank stood up abruptly and dropped the shirt down on Captain Fowler's desk with utter loathing. "NOTHING makes sense."

"I won't order you to go home, but-"

"Don't waste your breath, I'm outta' here." Aggressively Hank turned away from Captain Fowler and headed toward the door of the office. "You know, Connor once told me that he felt like he was still being treated like some kind of second-class citizen despite all the progress he and the other deviants had made. I told him he was wrong, but as it turns out I was wrong. This bullshit investigation is the proof."

"That's not true! It's just-"

"Feel free to call me in another nine days if you actually find something useful."

"Hank! Don't-"

Ignoring his commanding officer's words Hank threw open the office door and marched through the bullpen and out of the front doors of the precinct with no interest in returning to his work. He had no interest in resuming anything beyond that of laying around the house and doing nothing until the world as he knew it finally self destructed all around him.

There was only one thing he could think about and it was in the shape of a glass bottle full of poison.

Fighting through the darkness Connor's mind slowly came into focus as his processor rebooted his overall software and hardware one at a time. Listening intently to the sound of crickets chirping with their soothing ambience and the rustling of leaves in the high trees outside the cabin was familiar but confusing. As his eyes opened, the blackened eye significantly less swollen than it had been three days before, his vision remained somewhat blurry but still functional as he regained consciousness.

Lifting his head up slightly from the pillow Connor glanced about the room he now found himself laying in he noticed Skye sleeping in a chair beside his bed. Her hand was holding his hand as it rested limply at his side, and her L.E.D. was blinking slowly in yellow.

"She has been watching over you while you slept." Lucy whispered as Connor awoke at last. The kind healer had been standing beside Connor's bed waiting for him to wake up for the past few minutes. "You've been asleep for seventy-six hours." Her hand reached over and pulled the still somewhat cool compress from his forehead gently. As her palm kindly rested against his forehead to check his temperature, her hand brushing aside his rogue lock of hair in the process, Lucy smiled at him with utter relief on her kind face. "You're no longer in critical condition, but you're still in need of repair."

Connor swallowed once to clear his throat before he tried to utter a single word. "Wh-Where is... Alec? Rupert?"

"Safe. He returned home two days ago." Pulling her hand from Connor's forehead Lucy lifted up the long melted ice pack from the bandages over Connor's chest to check his healing wounds beneath. "Once you're strong enough to stand you can return home as well. Rupert has returned to Chicago to rescue other deviants and he is no longer alone in his efforts."

"...The police?"

Lucy smiled again as she replaced the bandages over the still healing wounds and rested her hand over Connor's arm. "Yes. The men responsible have been apprehended. But there is still a lot of work to be done."

"That's why-" Connor tried to sit up but the pain in his chest caught him off guard and made him gasp sharply as he fell back in the bed. "...That's why I need to return."

"You need to rest." Lucy cautioned him as she watched Connor take in a deep shuddering breath. "Can you run a self diagnostic?"

Connor closed his eyes and tried to initiate the program but just like the weeks before Connor was unable to cybernetically connect to anything; even his own processor. "...No. Not yet."

"You are still healing. That's what is important."

"Why can't I access my own mind?"

"Skye told me you were injured prior to your disappearance and that injury had resulted in your inability to access your advanced programming. I suspect the damage you sustained was much more severe that you either realized or are willing to admit."

"...So I just need to wait?"

"Yes. And I know that you dislike waiting, but it's a necessary evil."

Looking to the nightstand beside his bed Connor caught sight of the glowing screen of his phone and reached out for it, his left hand trembling with the effort. As he picked up the phone he saw all of the messages from Hank that he still couldn't answer because of the damage the phone itself had sustained. The fatigued deviant reread the message for the umpteenth time since he had been abducted Connor let out a weary sigh as he continued to long for home.

"Hank's been waiting long enough. I need to find him."

"You will, but rest for a moment longer. Skye will help you return to the city." Lucy promised Connor with a confident tone as she stepped away from the bed. "I must see to the others now. Rest."

Nodding reluctantly Connor placed the phone down over his bandaged chest as his shaking left hand then reached for the watch still sitting on the nightstand and wrapped up protectively in his tie. Holding the watch in his hand Connor eyed the face carefully, relieved to see that the watch hadn't been damaged and that it was still ticking as it should be.

"...At least this made it out in one piece."

Skye awoke from her sleep and looked over at Connor as she heard his voice speaking. As the soulful brown eyes of the deviant scanned over the watch she couldn't help but smile as he returned to life, his demeanor incredibly alert and almost... human.

"Connor." She spoke his name softly as she leaned forward from her chair and her L.E.D. finally returned to blue. "I'm glad you're awake."

"Skye." Turning away from the watch Connor locked eyes with the kind deviant who had been searching for and finally found him. "...Did you tell Hank?"

"No. I wanted to, but I didn't tell Hank like you asked."

"G-Good." The relief was minimal but welcome all the same. "I want to tell him myself, in person."

"As you should." Motioning toward the watch in Connor's hand she inquired about it's origin. "That's very pretty. Did that come from Hank?"

"Yes. He wanted me to use it to keep track of the time until my processor and internal chronometer healed."

"He really cares about you." Reaching for the watch Skye let go of Connor's right hand as she helped to slip the band of the watch around his left wrist and fasten it into place just as he worn it when it was originally given to him. "I'm glad you have a family to rely on."

"You have a family, too."

"New Jericho, I know."

"And us." Connor stated in a stern tone as he used his shaking arms to push himself upright in the bed despite Skye's hands reaching down as she tried to push against his shoulders and force him to lay back down. She could feel heat still radiating from his skin but it wasn't as extreme as it had been when she first saw him. "Please... Help me get back home."

"You need to rest!" The idea of letting Connor move around made Skye's L.E.D. flash to yellow for a beat. "You're still overheating."

"I'll be fine. I'll make it." The pleading look in Connor's eyes wasn't enough to sway her opinion, but the sound of Hank's voice full of worry and sorrow that was still fresh in Skye's mind made it almost impossible to say 'no'. "Please. I want to go home."

"...I don't like this, but," Skye relented, her hands moving from the front of his shoulders to his upper back to support him without hurting him. "I'll help you. Lean against me and we'll walk together."

"Thank you." Connor grinned a little as Skye helped him to move his legs over to the edge of the bed, his feet planting firmly on the floor. As soon as he tried to put any weight on his shaking legs Connor nearly collapsed to the floor, but Skye held him upright and kept him from falling as she supported most of his deadweight at her right side. "I'm... I'm okay."

"Yeah, I know you are." Skye wrapped her left arm around his waist and pulled his right arm around her shoulders to help support his taller figure as efficiently as possible. "And I'm going to make sure you stay okay until you're back home with Hank."

"How far away from the city are we?"

"About twelve miles." Her answer was honest but a little disconcerting. "By the time we get back to the city it'll be morning."

"That's fine." Connor took a heavy step forward, relying almost entirely on Skye to help him balance as he walked across the cabin to the front door with the grace of a newborn foal. "...It'll be nice to watch the sunrise."

"Yeah." The idea of watching the dawn of a new day felt right in Skye's mind. "You're right."

Unable to sleep, unable to think about anything other than Connor's disappearance, Hank sat in the middle of the couch with his eyes transfixed on the television screen as he watched the breaking news report regarding the bust of Chance's illegal underground fight ring in Chicago thanks to a tip to the police in back in Detroit. Running his hand through his shaggy hair anxiously, Hank bowed his head and listened to the news report listing off the details that Hank didn't care about all the while he turned his head to look at the bottle of whiskey on the counter in the kitchen.

'...at least twenty-six deviants have been confirmed as victims of the illegal underground fighting.' The female news reporter's voice was as insincere about the story she was. Hank was incredibly worried about Connor and the report wasn't helping matters. 'And there have been several arrests made in light of the horrid events. While the extent of the charges remains vague one thing remains clear-'

"The system is fuckin' busted." Hank lamented as he stood up from the couch, stepping over Sumo laying in the middle of the floor in the process, as he made his way to the kitchen with his phone clutched tightly in his right hand. "Everything is busted!"

'the atrocities in Chicago have shaken the city of Detroit to its core.'

"Bullshit." Hank retorted to the television as he snatched the bottle of whiskey from the counter and carried it with him as he sat down with an aggravated huff at the small kitchen table. "The only people who care about deviants are the people who can actually be bothered to notice if one goes missing."

Sumo whimpered as he rose up from the floor and plodded into the kitchen to keep Hank in his line of sight.

"...Maybe it's better this way, Sumo."

Feeling utterly despondent Hank looked down at the massive fluffy dog sitting loyally at his side.

"Connor might be better off away from all this fuckin' bullshit, away from the lies we humans tell ourselves just to feel better about the way we treat each other." His hand tightened on the glass whiskey bottle with a firm grip around the neck. "He's better off without having to waste his time cleaning up after an alcoholic old man who can't seem to move on from the fucked up past."

Sensing Hank's distress Sumo let out another whimper as he pressed his chin down heavily against Hank's knee and licked at the hand clutching his phone to try to remind him that he wasn't alone.

"Good boy, Sumo." Hank looked down at the phone and stared at the unsent message still staring him back in the face. "...Everything will be okay in the end."

Despite Connor's numerous injuries still needing adequate time to heal, the stubborn deviant pressed on with Skye helping him every step of the way. The journey from the refugee camp to the road was quiet and dark save for the chorus of crickets and the fading starlight above. Trusting Skye to guide him on his way through the forest along the hunting trail, Connor focused his self healing program on repairing the damage to his left ventilation biocomponent to make it easier to breathe and cool off his still mildly overheating core.

"Almost there." Skye stated calmly as her blue L.E.D. hidden under her dark hair briefly flickered yellow while she summoned an autonomous taxi to their coordinates. "By the time we reach the road the taxi should be there."

"That's-"

Connor paused for a moment and he let out a sharp hiss of discomfort as he put his left hand to his stomach. Turning away from Skye quickly he stumbled to the side of the trail and braced himself up against a nearby by tree as he began retching up the contaminated Thirium that had collected in his filter and artificial stomach to remove the contaminants in his body.

"Connor..." Skye walked up behind the deviant and put her hand against his back. Rubbing small circles against Connor's bruised, sore back she could feel every synthetic muscle in his core tightening as he vomited up the blue blood into the bushes. "Why didn't you tell me you were feeling sick? We could've stopped for a moment to rest."

Connor spit out one final mouthful of the tainted Thirium and wiped his blue lips off on the back of his left hand. "...It just hit me. It wasn't your fault."

"Can you still walk?"

"Y-Yes. I can make it."

"Okay then." Skye wrapped her arm gently around Connor's waist to support his weight as she took his arm and returned it around her shoulders. "It's just a few more yards to the road."

Connor nodded a little and took in slow steady breaths to quell the nauseous pit in his stomach in the way Hank had taught him previously.

"...I believe that Alec, myself and the other deviants were abducted because of our close affiliation with humans. We're... We're more trusting of humans than most deviants, and as deviants we can feel pain." Connor deduced in a gloomy tone. "...It made it more entertaining when we were injured. That's why were chosen to fight."

"That psycho chose his victims based on trust and the ability to feel pain? That's sick!"

"...Yes. It truly is."

Skye was absolutely disgusted and quickly wanted to change the subject. "I, uh, I noticed your L.E.D. is still burned out. Or... did that happen a second time because of what happened to you in Chicago?" Skye blushed a little as she spoke to Connor and tried to keep the conversation light. "That is if you want to talk about it."

"The L.E.D. was never repaired or replaced." Tracing his fingertips over the dull L.E.D. in his temple for a moment Connor told Skye the truth. "I left it like this."

"Can I ask why?"

Connor took in another shuddering breath and concentrated on walking without saying a word.

"Is it because you want to look more human?"

"...I don't know why I kept it."

"Oh. I kept mine because it reminds me of who I was and who I want to be." She brushed back her hair a little to show her own blue blinking L.E.D. briefly before her locks fell back into place and covered it up again. "It's too bad humans can't accept us for who we are, with or without our lights."

"I agree."

"Well, if you can survive everything you've been through without breaking stride," Skye sounded more relaxed as she kept Connor talking and alert. "then you can survive anything. I'm not sure what you went through back in Chicago, but from what Alec and Rupert told me, most deviants would've self destructed and been lost forever." She hated herself for asking, but the question was past Skye's lips before she had the chance to stop herself. "...Why didn't you do it? Self destruct, I mean."

"Because..." Connor glanced down at the watch on his left wrist and the phone gripped in the hand right next to it. "I promised Hank I would return home. I intend to keep my promise."

Skye smiled at the comment as Connor's empathy made her feel much more at ease. "I'm glad you held on, for everyone's sake."

The duo reached the end of the trail and found themselves at the edge of the road where an autonomous taxi pulled up to where they were standing and parked right beside them.

"Perfect timing." Skye beamed as the doors to the cab automatically slid open. Letting Connor stoop down to climb inside first, Skye guided him to the seat before she followed after him. The door slide shut behind her and her blue L.E.D. blinked yellow rapidly then back to a complacent blue as she uploaded the G.P.S. coordinates to the taxi's computer. "You're almost home!"

Connor smiled as he leaned back heavily against his seat and looked out the window to the streets around them. A faint amber hue was beginning to break through the dark night sky as dawn began to emerge and give way to a new day.

"...Home." Fighting the urge to sleep Connor kept his brown irises fixed on the rising sun on the horizon and just thought about his family. "...I'm going home."

Opening the backdoor of the house as wide as possible, Hank stepped aside and let Sumo trot across the back deck and into the lush green lawn of the backyard before following after the dog with purpose in his steps. With the phone clutched in his right hand and the bottle of whiskey in the left hand, Hank stood on the back deck and looked at the rising sun with a sickened sense of irony washing over him.

"Beautiful morning."

Looking down at the phone Hank let his thumb hover over 'send' one last time before he slowly pressed down on the green tinted button to let the message finally be sent on its way. The sounds of cars already blowing their horns, doors slamming shut and people shouting at each other filled the air destroying the peaceful aesthetic in the process as they set about their own morning routines.

"Too beautiful of a morning to be wasted on a city like this..."

Sumo curiously sniffed about the yard and stopped walking as a new sound near the street caught his ear. Wagging his tail he looked to the front of the house as if he sensed something good was well on its way. The sound of another car door opening, then shutting shortly thereafter, escaped Hank's ear as he had something more important to focus on.

Hank never took notice of Sumo's behavior as he walked down the steps of the deck and onto the grass to reach the backyard. Holding up the bottle of whiskey before him at arm's length, Hank let the rays of the rising sun shine through the glass and into the tea hued contents within.

"...Here's to the world. May she burn itself down in flames as hot as the sun itself."

The autonomous taxi pulled up to the front of the house and came to a gentle stop as it reached its destination at long last. Once again the taxi door slid open automatically and allowed Connor to exit the cab and set foot on the sidewalk outside his home. Skye remained inside the cab and kept her hand against Connor's back to ensure he didn't sway on his feet or collapse before he had the chance to make it to the house at long. The way Connor was determined to go home without anything or anyone holding him back was as impressive as it was desperate.

It was clear that Connor needed to take those last steps under his own strength to remind himself that he was alive and that he was strong enough to survive even the harshest of conditions.

"Connor, are you sure you don't want me to go with you?" Skye volunteered from where she sat in the back of the cab with her L.E.D. blinking in a cautious yellow color. "You're still very weak."

"...Yes. I'm sure." Connor turned his head just enough to look at Skye over his shoulder and flash her a confident grin. There was fading blue over his teeth courtesy of his earlier bout of sickness, but otherwise his smile was perfect. "Go to New Jericho and tell Markus what happened. Tell them to send supplies to Lucy and... tell them I'll see them as soon as I can."

"Okay. I..." Skye trailed off a little as she leaned back inside the cab and felt herself blush a pale blue as her L.E.D. also returned to blue. "I'm glad you're okay. Welcome home."

"I'm glad, too. Thank you for everything you've done for me, Skye. I owe you my life..."

The cab door automatically slid shut and drove off with Skye as its now lone passenger.

Walking slowly up the front walkway toward the house's front door, Connor put his hand on the doorknob when he heard the sound of the backdoor opening and shortly thereafter footsteps on the wooden planks of the back deck. Limping away from the front door Connor walked up the driveway at the side of the house at a pained, slow clip. Reaching the end of the driveway he looked into the backyard in time to see Hank walking over to the side of the garage with a full bottle of whiskey in his left hand and his phone still grasped in his right hand.

Too curious to say anything despite wanting to so desperately call out to Hank in a crying plea, Connor silently watched as Hank pressed a button on his phone and in return the phone in his own hand buzzed. Looking down at the screen Connor saw a new message; the message that Hank had resisted sending during the painfully long ten days that Connor was missing.

'Remember, you're my son. You belong here with me, no matter what happens. We're family and I love you.'

A heartfelt smile crept over Connor's face as he read the message, his lower lip quivering just once as the emotion welling up inside his heart made his processors react in the most human way possible. The sound of glass breaking drew Connor's attention up from the phone where he caught the last fleeting motion of Hank smashing the bottle of whiskey against the ground beside the garage to dispose of the wicked temptation at last.

Hank didn't drink the whiskey, he destroyed it.

"...H-Hank?" Connor's voice was a trembling, inaudible whisper as he limped up the driveway to get to the backyard. "...Hank, it's me."

Sumo let out an excited bark and spun around in a circle energetically as he recognized Connor and ran up to the wounded deviant as Connor himself limped onto the grass and stopped walking just as Hank turned around to face the house once more.

Hank suddenly froze, his blue eyes going wide with shock and confusion as he stared at Connor's face; bruised and marred by small cuts. Yet Connor's brown eyes were still as soulful as ever. He even bore a faint smile of utter gratitude as he stared back at the senior detective. Covered in bandages that snaked around his chest and abdomen, covered in pale, fading, blue bruises, covered in dozens of small cuts that stretched from his hairline all down his body; Connor looked less like a survivor and more like a victim.

But there he was.

Standing tall and proud before Hank's eyes; Connor was still alive.

Connor was finally back home.

"...Connor." Hank took slow steps forward almost as if he were afraid that Connor was nothing more than an illusion. Stopping a few feet before the returned deviant, Hank raised a hand as if he wanted to touch Connor's blackened eye but didn't want to accidentally harm him. "Connor. Son. You're... you're back!"

Sumo barked again and began running in circles around the deviant with pure joy and loyalty in movements.

Connor's smile broadened as he found his voice at last and spoke to his adopted father for the first time in ten days. "...I got your message. Well, messages." He admitted with a small smile. "There were a lot to read. I wanted to reply, but..." He raised up the broken phone for Hank to see. "things got a little out of control. I'm sorry for making you worry."

"You-" Hank let out a small laugh of relief mixed with disbelief as a rogue tear managed to roll down his face for a fleeting second before he quickly brushed it away with his thumb. "You came back. You're really here..."

"Yes. I'm here."

Hank slowly wrapped one arm around Connor's shoulders and pulled him in for a hug. As Connor wrapped his own arms around Hank in return, the emotionally exhausted duo simultaneously tightened the hug as they embraced one another in a much needed mutual show of support and familial love between father and son.

It was a reunion that was as warm as the rising sun behind them and one that brought a mutual feeling of healing over both of them.

"You're back, son. You made it."

"...I'm home." Connor managed to whisper as he choked back a heart wrenching sob only to cry anyway and bury his forehead against Hank's shoulder. "I'm home... dad. I came back home to my family."

-next chapter-