Early in the morning shortly after clocking-in at the precinct right on time as was his usual routine, Connor had tracked down a dangerous criminal who had been attacking deviants and harvesting biocomponents for illegal sales to sell in the very few remaining underground black markets. Connor was now in pursuit of the fleeing suspect as they tried to escape from the police on foot. Racing over the snowy rooftops of the closely positioned apartment complexes and hotels in a less than ideal neighborhood, the determined deviant detective managed to catch up the human with little difficulty on his own part. Even though Connor was fast the greedy and dangerous human was proving himself to be too stubborn to be taken into custody without a fight.
While Connor raced over the rooftops in pursuit of the suspect Hank followed after his partner down on the streets below in the Oldsmobile. Using his radio Hank relayed the chase to dispatch and soon had Chris in his own squad car joining in on the pursuit down on the streets.
"Stop! Detroit Police!"
Connor shouted as he tried to get the suspect to surrender peacefully as he cornered the man at the edge of a roof overlooking a steep drop into the cold alleyway below.
"There's nowhere to run. Surrender now."
Not wanting anything to do with androids after what he had been doing to them in his garage for the past six months, the desperate suspect leapt onto the neglected metal ladder of the building's fire escape just under the ledge of the rooftop, and immediately began to slip as the aged bolts of the framing began to break away from the brick exterior with a rapid shuddering. The man's weight was too much for the old metal and crumbling brick to properly support, and the fire escape was well on its way to collapsing entirely.
Reacting quickly Connor jumped onto the fire escape balcony next to the criminal and wrapped both of his arms around the human's chest as he stood behind him to keep him from becoming injured. Jumping up and backward from the collapsing fire escape toward the open alleyway, Connor used his own body to protect the fragile human as he landed partially on his left side onto the hood of an abandoned, rusted car in the alley four floors below.
Connor let out a yelp of pain as he made contact with the metal hood crunching under his body, but he never let go of the suspect in the process of the fall or the painful impact that followed. During the foot chase Connor's L.E.D. had been yellow but now it was flashing in red as his systems processed the sudden pain shooting up his left arm and concentrating in his left shoulder joint as the severe damage was registered.
Hank and Chris, who had stopped their vehicles outside the alleyway, heard the crunching sound of metal echoing from the alley and rushed in to check on the commotion. The suspect wrestled free from Connor's weakened grip and fell to his hands and knees in the alleyway with a heavy 'thud' in a graceless fall. Before he could get up to run again, the man found himself staring down two barrels of two guns pointed directly at him courtesy of Detroit's finest.
"Don't move!" Hank demanded as he kept his gun trained on the suspect while Chris took the cuffs from his belt to finally arrest the man. "You're under arrest."
Too tired to resist the man raised his hands up to the back of his head and stayed on his knees to surrender peacefully while Chris cuffed his wrists easily.
"Chris, get him back to the precinct." With the man now cuffed Hank ordered Chris to get the man out of his sight as he watched Connor awkwardly slide off the hood of the broken-down car in a limp heap and plant his feet down on the ground. Holstering his gun the senior detective walked over to where Connor was now standing and gave him an annoyed look. "I need to speak with my partner."
"Right, Lieutenant." Chris led the exhausted suspect to his squad car parked just outside the alley while Hank checked in on Connor. The suspect was continuing to struggle a little, but Chris just tightened his grip on the suspect's arms to keep him cooperative. "Come on, don't make this any worse than it already is. Trust me, you don't want to make the Lieutenant come after you next."
"Connor?" Approaching the deviant detective with a scowl Hank asked the obvious question. "What the hell's wrong with you?" Annoyed by his partner's antics Hank nearly shouted the question as he watched Connor's right hand desperately clinging to his pained left shoulder. "Why would you risk your own life to save a piece of shit like that?"
"I... I don't know. I didn't think about it." Connor visibly winced as his hand continued to clutch at his sore left shoulder. The pain was causing Connor's L.E.D. to flicker between yellow and red as the jostling of his shoulder confirmed the damage. "I just reacted. I'm sorry, Lieutenant."
Crossing his arms over his chest Hank sighed at the pitiful sight of his partner trying to boldly push through his pain. "And you hurt yourself again, didn't you?"
"I landed on my left arm and caused mild damage to my left shoulder." There was no point in denying the damage. Connor confirmed everything as he tried to remove his supportive hand from the sore shoulder only to replace it immediately as the pain intensified without the support of the strong appendage. "My self-healing program will take care of the damage within a few hours. I'm fine."
"How bad is it?"
"It's not serious." Connor tried to dismiss Hank's concerns as the man eyed his suspiciously. "Again, it'll mend itself in approximately nine hours, seventeen minutes and fifty-six seconds."
"Then why's your light red instead of blue?" Hank asked as he pointed to Connor's temple with an accusing gesture. "Or even yellow right now? That only happens when you're hurt or dealing with a massive download."
"I... It's from the pursuit." Trying and failing to lie Connor did his best to explain away Hank's concerns. "I'm slightly overheated from physical exertion."
"Connor, you're so damn near close to being human that you could pass off as one, but if you want to be completely convincing you need to learn how to lie better than that." Lowering his arms Hank reached out his hand toward Connor's injured left shoulder to inspect the damage for himself. "Let me take a look."
"It's nothing." In attempt to avoid any further pain Connor argued against the request as he shrugged his left arm away from Hank timidly. "It'll heal on its own if given enough time."
"Then if it's really nothing then I can take a look at it and I'll see nothing, right?"
Such a leading question gave Connor pause as he tried to find a way to reply without being too deceptive or dismissive of his own damage. "...C-Correct."
"Good. Let me see."
"Why?"
"For peace of mind. Humor me on this, kid."
Knowing Hank wouldn't back down any time soon, Connor sighed with defeat as he let Hank check his damaged left shoulder. Slipping off the sleeve of his gray blazer carefully Connor turned a little so that Hank could see his left shoulder without the dark fabric draped over it. The deviant's left shoulder now looked as though it was lower than the right shoulder, and his arm was heavy and limp in Hank's grip.
Watching Connor's reaction carefully, seeing every wince and stifled gasp of pain the deviant managed to endure, Hank made his assessment on the damage. "You dislocated your shoulder."
"As I stated before, it's not serious."
"Not always, but it is always painful." Slowly Hank let go of Connor's shoulder much the deviant's relief as it meant there wasn't any pressure being put on the physically compromised joint. "Trust me, I played football in high school. I know what a dislocated shoulder is all about and I know it needs to be taken care of soon."
Running a self-diagnostic on his shoulder, Connor was met with the expected errors regarding his shoulder but no immediate solutions. "What should I do?"
"You need it popped back into place in order for it to heal properly."
"You're right." Giving Hank a pleading stare Connor asked for his assistance. "...Can you do it?"
"Me?" Being asked such a favor seemed very unusual, even for Connor. "Why me?"
"I don't want to go see a technician. I'll have to file a report on my current injury."
"Joel seemed pretty cool when he helped you with that virus shit and when you scraped up your back. Why not go see him at the precinct again?"
"I don't want to walk into the precinct wounded et again." A wash of needless shame fell over Connor and created a pale blue blush on his face. "It's embarrassing."
"Uh-huh. Then there should be a nearby facility we can stop at before-"
"No!"
Sighing a little at Connor's stubbornness Hank asked him why he was so hesitant to go. "All right, why not a facility? A few just opened up around town and there's one just one block from here. Think it's called the 'Zeta Facility' or something fancy like that."
"I don't want to talk about it."
"Kid, you have to give me a legitimate answer or I'm dragging your ass into the nearest facility myself."
Closing his eyes Connor tried to get Hank to listen to reason despite being unreasonable himself. "Please try to understand."
"Okay. Understand what?"
"I find android facilities... unsettling."
"Oh, really?" Hank smirked Devilishly at the comment and didn't back away from his opportunity to tease Connor. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're afraid of seeing the doctor."
"I have no fear of technicians, but I do find it unnerving to go to a place where dozens of androids are in desperate need of repair and have subsequently shutdown due to a lack of funding and time."
"Yup." Not letting the matter go Hank continued to playfully poke at the deviant to get him to admit the truth. "You're afraid of the doctor."
"No." Connor refuted like an angry child as he continued to hold his sore shoulder. "I merely dislike the locations in which technicians operate. They are similar to the CyberLife laboratories and warehouses. I have only negative memories of such locations."
A little more sympathetic to Connor's dilemma Hank stopped teasing the deviant and got serious again. "Sorry, kid. You need to-"
"Please, Hank." Connor suddenly sounded frightened, and it wasn't a reaction Hank had been expecting. Having called him 'Hank' rather than 'Lieutenant' while on the clock emphasized how distressed Connor truly was. "You're the only person that I trust. I don't trust technicians, only you."
"I..." Trailing off for a moment Hank tried to reject the suggestion without sounding mean or callous. "Kid, I don't want to hurt you."
"I'm already hurt. You'd just be helping me when no one else can. At least, no one I actually trust can."
"All right, all right. I'll do it." Hank briefly looked over his own shoulder down the alleyway toward the street to make sure no one else was around before he finally relented. He didn't want to do the deed, but it needed to be done. "But don't you scream. I don't want to hurt you, and if you scream then I'll know I hurt you."
"I won't scream." Connor promised sadly as he visibly relaxed a little and finally let Hank aid him. "What do I need to do?"
"Uh, slip off your tie and take your arm out of your shirt sleeve so I can see your shoulder better."
With one hand Connor shrugged off the rest of his blazer and handed it over to Hank to hold. Loosening his tie next Connor then unbuttoned his white dress shirt halfway down and gingerly slipped his damaged arm free of the second garment sleeve. "Now what?"
"You see that water pipe over there?" Hank tucked Connor's blazer under his arm as he pointed at a large dripping pipe jutting up from the ground near the back of the alleyway. "Grab on to that with your right hand, hold tight, and do not let go until I tell you to. Got it?"
"...Okay, I think I understand." Unsure of how that would help Connor walked over to the pipe and took a tight grip with his hand as he had been instructed with no intention of letting go. "What's next?"
"This." Hank grabbed onto Connor's bad left arm and took a deep breath as he held tight as he took a firm grip with both hands just above Connor's elbow. "Now, when I pull your arm, you need to resist the motion. Pull away from me as hard you can until your arm pops back into place."
"Lieutenant?" Such an oddly specific order wasn't one that Connor truly understood. "That doesn't seem... safe."
"It sounds weird, I know, but it's the only way to realign your shoulder and pop it back into place." Testing his grip on Connor's arm Hank planted his feet and prepared to start pulling on the deviant's left arm to realign the joint with his shoulder. "Ready?"
Connor checked his grip on the pipe, as well as the overall integrity of the pipe to make sure it wouldn't bend or get pulled out of the ground in the process of the unusual moment. The pipe would hold up just fine. "...Ready."
"On three." Hank stated as he lifted Connor's arm up until the limb was level with Connor's shoulder again then prepared to pull. "One, two-"
Without saying three Hank pulled back as hard as he could while Connor did the same and pulled in the opposite direction. With a sickening 'crunch' and then release of pressure the arm popped itself outward entirely and then back into the shoulder joint within two seconds. As the limb realigned itself properly Connor restrained the scream of pain that he so desperately wanted to let out and kept silent as he promised he would.
"Okay, that should do it!" After hearing and feeling the shoulder pop back into place Hank gently lowered Connor's arm to his side and let him go. "...Everything lined up like it's supposed to be?"
Breathing through his gritted teeth Connor's released the pipe, a faint outline of handprint now wrapped around the cylindrical pipe, and grabbed at his realigned shoulder as he closed his eyes and ran a self-diagnostic.
"...Y-Yes. My shoulder has been correctly set." With a confirmation of a realigned shoulder Connor's red L.E.D. flashed to yellow in response as he initiated the necessary self-healing program. "No internal damage detected."
"See?" Theatrically dusting off his hands Hank gave Connor a smug grin and watched the deviant inspecting his realigned shoulder. "Simple as that."
"But it still hurts, Lieutenant." Rubbing his right hand over his left shoulder Connor flexed his left hand as all control returned to the realigned limb. "I dislike pain."
"Part of the healing process, kid. You may want to put your arm in a sling for a day or two, or... hour in your case, until your healing program thing finishes its job."
"Sling?" Connor's brow furrowed as he carefully put his arm back in the sleeve of his shirt and rebuttoned the shirt with one hand. "I don't have a sling."
"I can get you one from the infirmary back at the precinct if you want." It wouldn't be the first time Hank asked for some help from the infirmary just to avoid the emergency room himself. He didn't see why Connor couldn't have the same courtesy. "I won't say anything about you getting hurt to anyone at the precinct."
"Thank you, Lieutenant." Connor's L.E.D. finally returned to its healthy shade of blue as he and Hank exited the alleyway together while Connor still supported his sore left arm. The limb was regaining strength but was still too tender to function on its own just yet. "I appreciate your help."
"No problem." Relieved that he was able to help out his partner Hank draped the deviant's blazer casually over his own shoulder as they walked toward the Oldsmobile parked just outside the alleyway. "Just don't jump off of any more rooftops and we'll call it even. Deal?"
"Deal." Looking up at the tall buildings surrounding him, Connor felt the twinge of acrophobia kick back in and knew his hatred of heights was only going to get worse the more he pushed himself to do reckless things for the sake of a mission. "I'll do my best to not do that again in the future."
"Good answer." Opening up the passenger side door of the car on Connor's behalf, Hank just shook his head as he handed over the blazer and watched the deviant act as if running over rooftops and falling thirty feet on to parked cars was an everyday occurrence. "That's all I ask."
-next chapter-
