What had started out as an annoying but typical foot pursuit of a deviant pickpocket had ended with a horrible fall that had left both Connor and Hank in a dark and very unusual situation. During the chase the male deviant suspect led Connor and Hank down a long stretch of an abandoned property that had been originally designed to house a light-rail system that had been scrapped before its completion in 2011. The aged and unattended surface of the concrete over top of deep, long tunnels stretching beneath the surface had given way under their sudden weight during the chase. The deviant suspect avoided the terrible fall through sheer luck, while Connor and Hank weren't quite so fortunate.
As the concrete surface began to fracture and split under his weight Connor's scanner detected the damage and quickly preconstructed the limited options he had in protecting himself and Hank as much as possible from serious injury. Selecting the option that'd keep Hank entirely from harm Connor quickly turned around on his heels, grabbed on to Hank's shoulders to make sure the senior detective fell in such a way that Connor's own body plummeted into fractured ground first, while Hank fell second and would land on top of Connor when they landed after their unnerving plummet.
Crashing through the jagged and sharp concrete layers covering the top of the underground tunnels one by one, Connor's vision was bombarded with red warnings as his body was battered and bruised by the horrendous fall. Concrete, rusted metal pipes, several exposed electrical wires and bent metal rebar damaged Connor's back as fell through the darkness and toward the bottom of the rail tunnel sixty feet below the abandoned property.
Falling against his will, Hank swore loudly, held his breath, and instinctively tried to pull his arms and legs in toward his own body to keep his limbs from being broken during the fall. With Connor falling ahead of him, Hank barely brushed past the damaged layers around him and was only aware of the deviant when Connor managed to suddenly wrap his arms around his body to provide some form of cushion for the senior detective as they both impacted the cold, hard ground with a painful 'thud'.
The strong impact from the sudden stop was enough to make Connor release his protective grip letting Hank roll away from his arms.
Everything was suddenly silent, and Hank was dazed where he laid on his back. Slowly taking in a deep breath Hank glanced about and found himself at the bottom of the deep pit with only what looked like a basketball sized hole of light shining down from high above. Testing his limbs for any sign of breaks Hank only felt a tight burning in his right ankle and a squeezing pressure in his upper back from falling and landing hard on the ground of the long-forgotten tunnel.
"Shit... Fuckin' hell."
Carefully checking the area around him with his hands, his palms palpating the ground all around him, Hank realized he had in fact stopped falling and was currently resting on solid ground. As his palm pressed against a denim covered shin Hank realized that he had just located Connor beside him, and the sticky warm substance clinging to his palm confirmed that Connor was now bleeding.
"Fuck! Connor?!"
Rolling to his side Hank turned and rested on both of his palms and his knees as he stared down at the motionless body of the deviant who had managed to help break his fall and let him survive what should've otherwise ended his life in one fell swoop. The red blinking L.E.D. in Connor's right temple helped Hank to locate Connor's face in the dim light of the tunnel, and the crimson color told him that the deviant was in big trouble.
"Connor?" Lightly patting his palm against Connor's cheek Hank wiped the Thirium off of his palm and on to the knee of his jeans as he tried to get the deviant to speak to him and respond. "Hey, are you okay? Kid, answer me."
There was a heavy pause before Connor's garbled voice spoke up in a shaking whisper through the darkness. "...N-No. I am d-damaged."
"Shit." Hank had already suspected as much before Connor even answered. "How bad?"
"...U-Unknown." Connor's repeated attempts to run a self-diagnostic were complete failures. The severity of his damage had knocked that non-vital function offline as his system redirected power and Thirium flow to his confirmed vital functionality. "I cannot self-diagnose."
"Okay, lay still." The senior detective ordered as he did his best to tend to Connor's damage while in the dark, narrow space. "I'm going to check you over as best as I can without harming you, okay?"
"...N-Need to leave." Less worried about himself Connor tried to convince Hank to evacuate the tunnel and get to safety. "Too d-dangerous for you to s-stay."
"No way. Not without you."
Running his fingers over Connor's face and through his hair Hank looking for any fresh blood or other wounds along his head. Miraculously Connor was still conscious, coherent and responding to Hank's words appropriately. Moving his hands down Hank checked on Connor's neck, his shoulders, both of his arms, his chest and his abdomen. Just as he reached Connor's stomach Hank felt the deviant tense up and let out a shuddering breath of pain as he clearly found an area that had been physically affected by the impact of the fall.
"Sorry! Sorry. What's wrong?"
"...I-Internal damage."
"Okay, I'll do what I can for that in a minute." Swallowing nervously Hank slowly moved his hands from Connor's abdomen and began checking his legs one at a time, starting with the left leg to try to find any breaks or instabilities. "Can you tell me what type of damage you're dealing with?"
"...No."
"Oh. How bad's the pain?" Reaching Connor's left ankle without detecting any damage Hank moved to Connor's right leg next. "Don't let-"
Flexing his right leg quickly Connor tried to get the limb away from Hank's touch as the contact created a searing pain from hip to ankle. "D-Don't! Please."
"Okay, okay. I won't touch it again." Pulling his hands back again Hank leaned back on his knees and gave Connor a worried glance that was virtually unseen in the darkness of the tunnel. "Your leg's broken again, isn't it?"
"...Y-Yes. Unfortunately."
"And you're suffering from some sort of internal damage." Falling back on his training as a first responder Hank considered their current location, lack of supplies and lack of immediate support before making his final assessment. "You can't be moved. Well, fuck."
"Go without me." Connor urged as he managed to see Hank's face perfectly even in the darkness of the tunnel smothering them. "...There is an e-emergency stairwell twenty-three point six f-feet from here at e-end of the Eastern tunnel."
"Great news, but I can't even tell which way is what direction right now. And even if I could, I'm not going to leave you behind."
Lifting his trembling hand Connor pointed to the tunnel directly behind Hank and let out another wince as the pain in his damaged right leg started to become more intense. "G-Go straight after turning around. That way is E-East."
"No way. I just said that I'm not leaving you here on the nasty cold ground."
"...You have to." The deviant detective tried to lift his head up from the ground but didn't have the strength. "I c-can't move."
"I know, which is why I'm not going to leave you alone."
"But you need-"
"Stop." Hushing the deviant with a single commanding voice Hank refused to just leave Connor down in the tunnel by himself. "Don't even try to convince me to leave you behind. I'm not going anywhere unless you're right beside me."
"You're injured t-too."
"What?" Brow furrowed with confusion Hank didn't understand what Connor was talking about. "I feel-"
"Your r-right ankle." The deviant detective had been discreetly performing a biometric scan on Hank as the senior detective checked over his injuries. The scan was only able to detect the fracture as the most severe due to Connor's low power. "It's fractured. You also h-have a serious c-cut above your l-left eye and a br-bruised left shoulder."
"Big whoop." Dragging his sleeve over his left eye Hank wiped away the dripping blood staining his skin before it got into his eye. "It's not as bad as a broken leg or internal bleeding."
There was no arguing against that kind of logic. "...F-Fair point."
Putting his hand down lightly on Connor's right knee Hank tried to hold the leg as steady as possible as he looked up and glanced about the odd tunnel that he and Connor had fallen into. "Where the hell are we anyway?"
Connor struggled to cybernetically scan his own system and engage his internal G.P.S. after such a harsh fall. Using his memory of his last known location and deductive visual cues, Connor managed to identify their current location.
"...We're in an abandoned m-maintenance t-tunnel of the failed light-rail station."
"Man, I haven't thought about that big old flop in years." Leaning back again Hank rested on his knees and sighed with a sense of irritation and loss. "The project failed since it would've been too much work with too little immediate pay off. Go figure impatience and a lack of planning for the future ended in failure. AGAIN."
"...No external e-entrances are c-currently accessible without breaking off strong l-locks."
"Yeah, I know. It's going to be a bitch to find a way out." The dark enclosed space made things all the more difficult for the senior detective to try to figure out while Connor was down with an injury. Unlike Connor, the human didn't have immediate access to the internet inside his head. "It'd help if I had a light or some shit. My phone's in the car," reaching toward his coat pocket Hank felt the broken remains of the radio that had been smashed during the fall. "the radio's busted, and you can't walk right now."
Doing his best to try to figure out a way out of their current predicament Connor sent out a cybernetic distress call, unsure if it even escaped the thick walls of the tunnel around them. In return his cybernetic relay detected the emergency equipment that had been left behind after the construction on the tunnels had been halted.
"...F-Flashlight."
"What?" Unable to see what Connor could see Hank was at a total loss of even where the deviant was looking. "Where?"
Pointing toward his right Connor could see the small square compartment built into a large concrete support pillar near the center of the tunnel. Hank couldn't see it, but Connor could see it just fine.
"S-Stand up." Waiting for Hank to straighten up and test his weight on his right ankle Connor directed him toward the light to the best of his ability. "Head straight. W-Walk fourteen steps forward."
"Fourteen? Okay." Walking in a straight line Hank mentally counted his steps and froze in his tracks. He didn't want to accidentally walk into a wall or worse, another hole. "Now what?"
"T-Two steps to your left."
"Left, all right." Now in position Hank waited for his next set of instructions. "Okay."
"Reach out before yourself. Y-You'll find a glass compartment c-containing the flashlight."
Moving his palm out slowly Hank felt the cool smooth glass of the compartment under his touch, and then moved his hand to the side to locate the handle to the compartment. Pulling it open Hank reached inside and located a large mag-flashlight equipped with a kinetic battery. Giving the light a quick shake Hank turned on the flashlight and was rewarded with a bright white beam of light piercing through the seemingly perpetual blackness around him.
"Ha! Great job, kid." Carrying the flashlight with him Hank returned to where Connor was laying and slowly knelt down at Connor's side to check over the deviant's injuries visually. The blood all over Connor's right pant leg where the break had occurred was an immediate priority. "All right, we need to get the bleeding to stop."
"...Can't do that. W-We don't have the necessary s-supplies."
"Watch me." Using a smooth motion Hank loosened the black tie around Connor's neck and took the dressy garment from around the deviant's shirt collar. Pulling the tie until it was stretched to its full length, Hank handed Connor the flashlight and made sure the deviant was holding the light in the right direction while he wrapped the tie around the broken limb below Connor's knee to stem the bleeding with a makeshift tourniquet. "There we go. That's better. Wish I could do something about the damage in your belly."
Hissing in pain Connor resisted the urge to try to pull his leg away again and let Hank help him to the best of his ability. Pain was an inevitable outcome no matter how delicate Hank was being as he worked.
"Sorry, kid." Tying the garment in place Hank took the flashlight back and then shined it all around where he and Connor had fallen and then landed. "Broken bones are a real bitch to handle. I imagine broken plastimetal is just as bad."
"N-Not the first time I've f-fallen and broken a limb. At l-least this time my partner is here to a-actually help me."
The tunnel was too deep for either of them to shout for help and way too dangerous to even try to climb back out from where they had fallen. The darkness and limited space was very uncomfortable and the lack of light made everything feel eerily cold and almost feel cursed. Sweeping the flashlight about the area in a slow manner Hank caught sight of a strange shape in the darkness just on the other side of the pillar where the compartment was stored.
"Hey, what the fuck is that?"
Connor lifted up his head to peer at what Hank had found beyond the pillar but couldn't determine the object. "...Unknown."
"Don't move. I'm going to check it out and then come right back to check on ya'."
Laying his head back down on the ground Connor winced as he struggled to take in a proper breath as the pain his abdomen began to build. Pressing his palm over his abdomen Connor could feel a mild swelling that was indicative of internal bleeding from damaged Thirium lines, and he knew that his Thirium was leaking through his plastimetal frame and collecting just under his artificial skin causing his abdomen to slowly distend. Such a physical reaction led Connor to a single, grim conclusion.
"Shit..." Whispering to himself Connor tried to endure his pain without making Hank worry in the process. "Internal hemorrhaging."
Limping on his sore right ankle Hank carefully stepped over the bits of concrete and broken pipes that were scattered about the area and neared the curious object at a slow pace. As he neared it with a sluggish gait the flashlight's beam managed to shine off the metal body of an old rail car that had been placed in the tunnel on the short track that had been installed before ultimately being abandoned when the project had been scrapped.
"No fuckin' way."
Standing beside the rail car Hank swept his palm over the side of the large metallic object to reveal the metal body that was covered under over two decades worth of dust, and then wiped off the nearby window to try to peer inside. The light just shone off the murky glass rather than through it keeping the dark interior entirely enigmatic as Hank examined his discovery.
"Hey, Connor? There's a rail car over here!" Locating the door that was designed to slide open and give passengers access to the vehicle Hank grabbed on to the door and pulled on it with all his might. The door groaned, creaked, and then shuddered open loudly under Hank's hands as it opened up wide for the first time in over twenty years. "I got it open!"
Struggling to speak through his pain Connor attempted to think more clearly while monitoring his own internal bleeding. "...Is there a r-radio inside?"
"Don't know yet. But I'll find out."
Stepping on to the dirty floor of the rail car Hank shined the light about the dark space and took in the interior of the railcar with a studious gaze. The sides were lined with metal benches covered with dark blue padded vinyl that had begun crack and split from age and neglect. The triangular handrails connected to the ceiling by a long metal rod were also rusted from neglect, and half of them were now on the floor after the metal supports snapped thanks to rust and gravity. The long support rails connected from the floor to the ceiling were just as rusted but still holding firm.
Walking down the length of the railcar Hank located the door connecting the railcar to the front of the train where the conductor would operate the vehicle if the light-rail had been made operational. Hank forced the smaller door to the cabin open with just as much difficulty as the exterior door. The control panel was dark but there was a radio attached to the panel and seemingly had been used at some point in the past.
"This is probably too good to be true. No way this damn thing actually works."
Grabbing the attached microphone from the dark panel Hank turned on the radio and tried every frequency possible as he asked for help from the outside world. There was no way he'd be able to reach 911 dispatch or anyone from the precinct for that matter, he'd need to settle for anyone who'd hear the call for help and properly respond.
"Hello? Anyone hear me?"
Changing the radio's frequency at a slow rhythm Hank called out into the microphone in search of help hoping someone could hear him.
"Come on, come on! Anyone? Hello?!"
Switching through the frequencies steadily and one by one Hank kept trying to get help for Connor and himself. The man knew that time was running out and that if he didn't get Connor some help soon that the deviant was at serious risk of permanent damage.
"Officer down! I repeat: Officer down!"
The radio remained silent, and Hank resisted the urge to slam the microphone back down against the panel in frustration.
"Fuck! Damn thing's probably dead anyway... Should've known that this wouldn't work."
Walking back out of the front cabin Hank entered the passenger railcar again and shined the flashlight up to the ceiling and noted that there were emergency lights lining the car from end to end. Awkwardly using the flashlight as he reached up toward the lights Hank located the back-up batteries that were designed to keep the lights functioning even in the event of catastrophic power failure.
"Come on... Work!"
Fishing his fingers up and into the fixture nearest the power source Hank felt around and felt for the emergency back-up power supply's switch.
"I know you're-"
Suddenly his fingertips brushed against a metallic brick with a strong metal switch attached to it. That switch clearly only had one purpose and that was exactly what Hank was looking for.
"Found ya', you little bastard!"
Flipping the switch into the 'on' position Hank was almost blinded by the white lights surging to life and illuminating the interior of the car in a bright glow. A few of the lights crackled and groaned before burning out but a majority of the lights remained lit.
Blinking a few times Hank cleared the dots from his vision and decided that the railcar was better than the opened tunnel when it came to waiting for help. The senior detective slowly stepped back out of the railcar to go and check on Connor again. Hank was casting a looming black shadow over the messy ground as the glowing railcar behind him as he walked, and helped guide Hank back to Connor until the flashlight in his grip was needed again. Hank homed-in on the motionless deviant still laying on the ground and shifted his weight from his right ankle and onto his left leg as he checked on his downed friend.
"There's a radio in the railcar." The senior detective confirmed as he knelt back down on the ground next to Connor. Putting his hand to the deviant's shoulder Hank tried to assess how difficult it'd be to get Connor up from the ground and into the railcar. "Don't know if I can get it working or not."
"...L-Low power."
"Kid?" The way Connor's voice was still shaking had put Hank on guard. Pressing the back of his hand to the side of Connor's neck Hank noticed that Connor's artificial skin felt far cooler than what could be considered normal. "Shit. You're freezing."
"F-Floor's cold."
"And you lost a lot of blood." Hank stated as if needing to remind Connor of his current predicament. "You need to see a technician. Until then," shifting his weight to keep as much pressure off his fractured right ankle as possible Hank grabbed onto Connor's arm and pulled the limb around his shoulders. Using a controlled strength Hank helped Connor to slowly sit upright on the ground and then pull him up to his feet. "you need to be kept warm."
"H-Hank!?" Connor shouted in sudden pain as the movement hurt both his abdomen and his right leg. "D-Don't!"
"I'm sorry, kid. You have to get up!" Hank never let up on moving the deviant and let Connor lean heavily against his side as if he were about to collapse. "At least for a minute."
Closing his eyes tightly Connor sucked in a pained breath between his clenched teeth as Hank guided him up from the cold, dirty ground and over to the relative safety of the railcar just a few yards away. Moving slowly and carefully, Hank shifted his weight to keep his right ankle from getting worse and to keep Connor from applying any pressure to his broken right leg whatsoever.
"Almost there..." Leading Connor into the brightly lit railcar Hank laid Connor down over the length of the nearest blue bench on his back, then helped the deviant to keep his broken leg outstretched over the bench to ensure the break didn't get any worse. "Sorry about having to..." Trailing off as he got a good clear look at Connor's face in the new light Hank had a gut wrenching feeling that time was critical. "Shit, kid. We need to get out of here soon. You're getting worse."
Eyeing over Connor's injuries closely Hank noticed that Connor's artificial skin was pale, he had small cuts over his nose, under his right eye and along his bottom lip. The deviant's hands were also covered in small cuts and scrapes from the fall, and pale blue bruises began to mar his artificial skin around those very cuts and scrapes. The rips and tears in Connor's gray blazer and white dress shirt showed even more bleeding cuts, scrapes and bruises along his back, sides and chest that Hank couldn't see while they were out in the dark tunnel.
However, seeing Connor taking in shallow breaths and noticing a dark blue bruise on Connor's stomach visible through a tear in the white dress shirt's fabric held Hank's attention immediately. "I need to see your stomach."
"I-It's fine." Beginning to shiver despite being off the cold ground Connor tried to dissuade Hank's fears even as the senior detective made a move to pull open the buttons on the ruined shirt that was only partially concealing the most serious wound beneath. "The d-damage is-"
"Oh, shit..."
Staring at the swollen abdomen that was sporting a dark, ugly, blue bruise Hank now understood why Connor was in so much pain and was feeling so cold. The loss of Thirium put Connor in low power mode and began shutting down his less important functions to help conserve energy. One of those functions was his thermal regulator when he wasn't at risk of overheating.
"Connor, what can I do to help you through this?"
"N-Nothing." Connor sighed and winced as the motion of simply breathing was enough to make his already pained abdomen ache even further. As he pressed his palm back down over his stomach Connor realized the swelling was getting worse, which meant that he was still bleeding internally. "C-Can't do anything f-for me from d-down here. Excess b-blood needs to be drained."
"Drained? Son of a bitch..." Shrugging off his dusty coat Hank turned around to shake off the garment then draped it over Connor's body to try to help him keep warm while he endured his internal bleeding. "You saved me during the fall, and in the end, I ended up landing right on ya' and fucked up your biocomponents."
"Not wh-what happened." Looking up at Hank as the coat was laid over his chest and abdomen Connor watched as the senior detective crouched down beside the bench to check over his broken right leg again. The fall had broken Connor's lower leg below the knee, fractured his upper leg on the exterior side, and partially dislocated his leg component from his destablized hip joint. "The impact d-did this."
"And I can only imagine what it would've done to my body if you hadn't protected me." With impressive strength Hank tore open the right denim pant leg of Connor's jeans starting at the cuff around his ankle, and slowly tore open the seams to check on the entire leg up toward the deviant's right hip. "Ah, fuck..."
Glancing down at his own bloodied right leg Connor saw what had upset Hank and attempted to run another self-diagnostic on the severity of the break to his leg. The damage to his lower leg was the equivalent to a *compound fracture in an organic lifeform and was the cause of the external bleeding. Thanks to Hank tying the tourniquet in place the bleeding had slowed substantially and the tie had kept the broken plastimetal frame stable.
The second break above the knee was a wide fracture along the entire length of what was essentially Connor's femur. Due to the size of the fracture, it tore open Connor's artificial skin, and the fracture was not just bleeding but had a few stray blue sparks shining through the opened imperfection in the plastimetal.
"Ah, man." Hank grimaced thickly as he checked over the serious break strictly through visual means. He didn't dare to touch the break or move around the damaged limb out of fear of making Connor's injury worse. "How can I help you?"
"...You can't."
"Son, I may not be a technician but I'm good with cars and I have training in emergency first aid. Humor me on this, I've helped ya' before."
Letting out a small hiss as his pained system failed to finish the self-diagnostic Connor laid back and tried to not move. "...P-Pack the wound."
"Pack it? How?"
The lack of materials and supplies at their disposal were proving to be as painful as their physical injuries. "Unknown."
"All right, so, what's plan 'B' in the event that plan 'A' doesn't pan out?"
"...Nothing still."
"Shit. Okay, I'll see what I can do."
Limping on his bad right ankle Hank returned to the neighboring engineer car to look over the control panel a second time. Checking for any sign of power or life, or anything else that could be useful for that matter, he came up empty.
"Shit. Even if I did have my phone on me, it wouldn't get a signal down here anyway. How in the fuck am I going to get a call for help up and out of this hole?"
Glancing down at the dead radio on the control panel Hank put his hands to his hips and had an interesting thought pop into his head.
"Huh... Hey, kid?" Limping through the opened doorway connecting the cabin to the rest of the railcar Hank leaned forward as he braced himself against the door frame with both arms. "Do you think you could get that radio working if I brought it over to you?"
Turning his head slightly Connor looked at Hank watching him from the doorway. "...It's p-possible."
"All right then. Looks like we do in fact have a plan 'B' ready to go."
Connor laid still, tried to send out another cybernetic distress call, and listened to the sound of Hank carefully removing the radio from the control panel in the next conjoined cabin. Hearing Hank quietly mumbling to himself and the metal 'clanking' that came from Hank unhooking the radio from the panel gave Connor a sense of reality and something to focus on beyond his own current injuries and pain.
"Got it!" Hank announced from the cabin just seconds before he carried it back into the neighboring car and placed it on the floor next to Connor's side. Moving aside the coat Hank made sure Connor could reach the radio and watched as the deviant's red L.E.D. flickered in yellow quickly for a few seconds after his palm rested atop the device. It didn't take long for Connor's hand to retract the artificial skin and connect to the old radio. "Can you do anything?"
The radio buzzed and hissed to life as Connor fed it power from his own system. The small green lights all began to glow while the display showed the current frequency that the radio had been tuned into.
"Ha! Great work, kid..." Picking up the microphone Hank tested it once and was able to confirm it was functioning. "Think you can get this through to dispatch?"
Connor's yellow L.E.D. flickered rapidly again as he closed his eyes and connected the radio to the correct frequency. "...It's ready."
"Requesting rescue and technical assistance to the abandoned lot of West Saratoga Street and Albany Street. Officer down. I repeat: Officer down!"
There was a brief pause before dispatch replied in a garbled but still audible tone. '-eat your loca-. Repe- your -ation.'
"Repeating location." Speaking loudly and slowly Hank did his best to make the message as clear as possible. "Abandoned lot on WEST Saratoga Street and Albany Street. WEST Saratoga and Albany. We have an officer down. I repeat: Officer down. Requesting emergency rescue and technicians to the scene."
'10-4. Send- -partment and technicians to your -ation.'
"10-4." Putting the microphone back down on the radio Hank sighed and gently pushed Connor's hand away from the radio itself. "Save your energy." Placing Connor's arm back down on the bench alongside his bruised body Hank gave his friend a somber stare. "You need to rest."
"N-Need to leave, H-Hank." Despite everything Connor was still insistent on Hank getting out of the tunnel. "You're injured and c-could develop an infection f-from breathing in dirty air."
"We're leaving together." Sitting down on the second bench across from Connor to rest his ankle Hank leaned back and examined the affected joint by resting his right foot atop his left knee. Rubbing his palms over the aching fractured joint Hank kept a close eye on Connor and gauged how alert he still was. "Help's coming and we'll get out of here together. This is NOT up for discussion."
"D-Don't wait for me." Connor requested as he opened his pained eyes fully and looked over at Hank sitting across from him. The way Hank was being so adamant in leaving together gave Connor a strange pause since he was still a replaceable machine in his own mind. "You n-need to get out of h-here."
"So do you. I have a cut, a few bruises and sore ankle. Your leg is a shattered mess and you're bleeding internally for fuck's sake."
"I'll b-be fine."
"Sure you will." Slowly standing up again Hank slowly walked over to the deviant and grabbed onto his coat to bring it up higher over Connor's chest to cover his arm again. As he moved the garment Hank took notice of the worsening, swelling bruise over Connor's abdomen and examined it again. "How much blood have you lost?"
"...Two point f-four units."
"Fuckin' hell. How're you still even awake?"
"N-Not tired."
Chuckling once Hank placed the coat back down over Connor and let out a weary sigh as he tried to think of something to talk about while they waited for help to finally locate them down in the tunnel.
"You're being a smartass, so that's a good vital sign." Sitting back down on the bench opposite of Connor again Hank propped his right ankle up and kept his weight off of the injured joint. "I hope we can catch that damn pickpocket sooner rather than later. I want him to know that he almost killed two cops over a couple of measly bucks..."
"I-I'm sure he'll be caught." Closing his eyes to get some Connor took in a slow breath and then exhaled quickly as a sharp pain suddenly made it difficult for his ventilation biocomponents to function properly. Knowing he was in serious condition Connor pressed his palm down over his swollen abdomen and noted that the Thirium collecting in his abdominal region was now putting pressure on his artificial lungs making it difficult to breathe. "...H-Hank?"
"What's happening?" Back at Connor's side Hank put his left hand under Connor's hair and slowly lifted the deviant's head up from the bench. "Talk to me."
"...T-Too much pressure." Pushing the coat down away from himself Connor looked down at the visible swelling pressure in his abdomen worriedly. "I c-can't expand my artificial l-lungs to ventilate pr-properly."
"Because you're still bleeding into your abdomen?"
"C-Correct."
"That isn't good." Despite everything Hank was still calm and collected. "I have to find a way to stop the bleeding."
"Self-healing program is focusing on m-my leg."
"Can you redirect it?"
"I cannot. M-My system is u-unable to p-perform a self-diagnostic, and I c-cannot priorit-tize my injuries."
"Damn. There has to be-" A faint echo of voices sounded off from just outside of the railcar and entered the tunnel. Listening closely Hank heard the echo again and stepped out of the railcar for a moment to home-in on the sound. "I think help's finally here, son. I'll be right back."
Limping back into the tunnel where they had initially fallen Hank looked up and barely saw the outlines of two people peering down into the hole as they shined their own flashlights downward. Waving his hand over his head Hank motioned to them and let out a deep sigh before calling out to the search and rescue team.
"Down here!" Shouting loudly Hank got their full attention as the rescue personnel managed to locate the two detectives. "We're down here!"
The two outlines backed away from the hole in the ceiling for only a moment after catching sight and sound of Hank below. A few seconds passed before a canvas bag began to lower down into the hole via emergency cable from the responding duo up top. As the bag neared Hank's hands, he lowered it to the ground and made sure the cable was still nice and tight before unzipping the bag to peer down inside.
"Emergency supplies. About damn time..."
A functioning radio, a first aid kit and a pouch of Thirium were all contained inside the bag for Hank and Connor to use. Turning on the radio Hank looked up at the two outlines overhead and gave them an update.
"This is Lieutenant Anderson. Do you read?"
'We read you, Lieutenant.' Chris's voice sounded off over the radio in response. The figure waving back indicated which of the two people looking down into the hole was in fact Chris. 'The fire department is looking for a way down without causing further collapse from above.'
"How big is the hole?"
'About ten feet wide. How deep is it?'
"Too deep, maybe sixty feet. Look, Connor's in bad shape and needs a technician at the scene." Glancing back at the railcar behind him Hank tried to not think about Connor bleeding to death while he was so close to help. "Where are the E.F.T.'s right now?"
'E.T.A. is five minutes.'
"Tell them to work with the firefighters and get their asses down here fast. Connor's leg is busted and he's bleeding internally."
'I'll tell them, Lieutenant. Hang in there!'
"Right, sure."
Putting the radio back into the bag Hank unhooked it from the cable and carried the bag into the rail car to check on Connor again. The deviant detective was still awake despite everything he was enduring, and looked absolutely miserable where he was laying.
"Chris is up there. He says the fire department's looking for a way down in here to help us out and the E.F.T.'s are on the way."
Nodding slowly Connor glanced at the bag in Hank's grip inquisitively without saying a word about it.
"Got us a radio, a first aid kit and some blue blood for you." Placing the bag on the ground Hank fished out the pouch of Thirium and held it up for Connor to see for himself. "You should drink this."
"No. Too much p-pressure in my abdomen."
"Right." Acknowledging the internal bleeding again Hank put the Thirium back into the bag for the time being. "Yeah, if that bleeding is crushing your lungs, then it's undoubtedly crushing your stomach too." A worrying thought popped into Hank's head as he knelt down beside Connor again. "What about your heart? Is it being crushed?"
"N-Not yet."
"Yet. I don't like you saying 'yet'." Emptying out the bag Hank wadded it up as much as he could then lifted Connor's head up from the bench and tucked the bag down beneath his neck and shoulders. Keeping the wounded deviant propped in a somewhat upright position let gravity keep the blood collecting in Connor's abdomen low and away from his heart and lungs. "Hopefully help will get down here soon."
"Y-You're still bleeding." Connor noted as he watched the blood trickling down the side of Hank's face from over his left eye. "Y-You need to k-keep it clean and c-covered to pr-prevent infection."
"Yeah, sure."
Picking up the first kit from the floor Hank opened it up and carried it with him as he sat down on the bench opposite of Connor again. Looking at the supplies tucked inside Hank used an alcohol wipe secured in a sterilized plastic bag, tore it open with his teeth, and then cleaned up the cut over his eye as best as could.
"Fuck!" Hissing in pain Hank wiped away the blood and tucked the used wipe back into its original bag. After applying a piece of gauze over the cut Hank clumsily taped it in place and decided it was good enough. "Blind triage isn't something that I'd consider a normal part of being a cop."
Connor saw the effective work Hank had done to his own cut and focused his attention elsewhere. "What else is in the b-bag?"
"Radio, first aid kit and the Thirium is all we got. The first aid kit has a few more alcohol wipes, bandages, gauze, gloves, medical tape and hey... A roll of ace bandages." Pulling out the beige tinted wrap Hank carefully slipped off his right shoe and began wrapping up his ankle over top the sock to keep the fracture in his ankle as stabilized as possible. "How do you feel right now, kid?" Wanting to keep the deviant talking and engaged Hank managed to treat his own injuries to the best of his ability. "Tired? Sore? Bored?"
"Cold."
"Yeah?" Testing his weight on his bandaged right ankle Hank walked over to the bench and pressed the back of his hand to the side of Connor's neck, and then placed his palm over the deviant's forehead. "You feel cold too. Once we're out of here you can take a nice hot shower to clean up and warm up at the same time."
"Th-That'd be nice."
The radio crackled to life as Hank and Connor were given an update on what was happening outside from the rescue personnel working to locate them.
Snatching the radio up from the floor Hank responded to the call and waited for an additional report. "We're here, Chris. What's going on?"
'The fire department found the old access passages leading to where you are, but the doors are barred and all of the entrances were partially filled in with debris from the tunnel collapsing. They'll have to break through in order to find you.'
"Shit... What about the technicians?"
'They're at the scene but can't get down until the fire department does. Safety precaution.'
"Damn." Staring at Connor's paled face and now lack of breathing Hank turned his back to Connor and lowered his voice as he spoke to Chris again hoping that the deviant wouldn't be able to hear him. "Can you send down some technician supplies? Connor's in real rough shape and I don't think he can wait too much longer."
There was a heavy pause before Chris's voice returned over the radio. 'I'll think of something, Lieutenant.'
"Thanks, Chris. We appreciate it."
Hooking the radio to his belt Hank turned back around and watched as Connor's glassy brown eyes began to close and his red L.E.D. pulsed faster.
"Hey, don't go to sleep, kid. Eyes open."
"T-Trying to remain awake."
"Talk to me. This tunnel," Hank nodded to the darkness of the tunnel outside the railcar's murky and nearly opaque windows. "where does it lead?"
"I-It was designed to c-c-connect all of the districts t-together." The wounded deviant noted in an increasingly shaky voice as his strength ebbed away. "Th-This line was g-g-going to head up t-to the Detroit Z-Zoo."
"Shit. If they had bothered to get all the bugs worked out of this light-rail I bet I would've used it hundreds of times with Cole."
"W-We're currently in the m-maintenance tunnel b-b-beneath the city."
"Explains why a railcar was left down here after all this time. Kinda' creepy to know that this thing is even here." The radio crackled again, and Hank readily pulled it from his belt to answer the call. "Yeah? What's going on up there?"
'We found a way to get supplies down to you.' Chris confirmed over the line as he kept Hank apprised of what was happening outside of the tunnel. 'And we have a volunteering technician who's going to rappel down to your location.'
"Said what?" That type of help wasn't expected but welcome all the same. "Who's crazy enough to do that?"
'Dr. Forrest from the precinct. He's already gearing up.'
"All right... We'll be waiting for him." Returning the radio to his belt Hank put his hand on Connor's shoulder and gave the deviant a light shake. "Help's on the way down, kid. Joel himself to the rescue."
Too tired to speak any further Connor's eyes slipped shut and his head lolled to the side as his body went limp. The deviant's artificial skin was dangerously white thanks to his artificial skin projection losing power and allowing Connor's white plastimetal framing to show through.
"Connor?"
Shaking the deviant's shoulder a little harder Hank pulled back the coat and saw that the horrible bruise was now painting his entire abdomen a deep blue color as the blue blood collected and pressed against the paled artificial skin. There was an undeniable swelling in Connor's abdomen that was noticeable even with the baggy coat covering his body.
"Shit... Hold on, son. We'll get you out of this mess."
Exiting the railcar Hank limped back toward the center of the tunnel in time to see a second rope drop down through the hole overhead as Joel began his steady descent into the tunnel. Glancing up Hank watched as the technician, wrapped up in protective gear and carrying a large backpack on his back, slowly lowered himself down through the hole and easily avoided all of the dangerous debris lining the hole that had left Hank and Connor trapped beneath the city.
The sound of Joel's boots hitting the ground echoed throughout the abandoned tunnel and Hank greeted the technician proudly. "Good to see you, Joel."
"Likewise, Lieutenant." Unhooking the rope from his rappelling harness Joel looked toward the railcar where Connor was resting. Noting the glowing lights in the railcar Joel was able to get an idea of what the two detectives were doing and where they were taking shelter while trying to survive. "Is he in there?"
"Yeah, and it's bad."
"How bad?"
"He's bleeding internally, and his stomach is really distended from the blood collecting his abdomen."
"Shit. Yeah, that's bad." Joel readjusted the heavy backpack on his back as Hank turned to begin limping back to the railcar. "How're his vitals?"
"Can't really tell." Walking with Joel at his side over to the railcar Hank gave the technician as much information as he could on the deviant's condition. "He can't breathe anymore, and he can't drink any Thirium. I have him propped up to keep the blood from pressing down on his heart."
"Good move, that'll definitely buy him some time." Entering the railcar Joel walked over to where Connor was laying on the bench and quickly shrugged off his backpack to rummage through his supplies. "Strange to help out a patient in an abandoned railcar." The technician joked lightly as he pulled out his audioscope and put the earbuds into place. "But I get the feeling it'll be just one of my many strange cases to come when it comes to Connor."
Opening his glazed over eyes as much as he could Connor acknowledged Joel as the technician pulled the coat away from his body. Too weak and already too cold to react Connor didn't even flinch when the icy cold metal bell of the audioscope was pressed to his exposed chest just above his swelling abdomen.
"Thirium pump sounds strong and clear, hard to hear the ventilation biocomponents." Moving the bell down over Connor's stomach next Joel could hear the very faint and steady leak of the damaged Thirium lines beneath Connor's plastimetal frame. Worried that Connor didn't respond to the pressure being applied to his swollen stomach Joel knew that the deviant's external sensors were powering down. "Stomach's not doing so good."
Following Joel into the railcar Hank watched as the technician gave Connor a quick assessment. "What can you do about it?"
"I can fix the leaking lines, but to do it I have to open him up."
Hank's blue eyes widened for a moment as he realized how serious Connor's injuries truly were and he pointed down to the floor as he spoke. "...Down here?"
"I have to." Joel sighed and draped his audioscope around his shoulders before using his fingertips palpate Connor's abdomen lightly. "He's stable for now but waiting for the fire department and E.F.T.'s to get to us with a gurney would take too long."
"Fuck me..."
"Don't worry, he won't feel a thing." Pulling more equipment out of his backpack Joel set up a portable Thirial activity monitor and secured the wireless leads to Connor's chest. Turning the monitor on filled the railcar with the quiet, rhythmic 'beeps' of Connor's pump beating. "It'll be messy and really unusual, but I can save him as long as I keep my hands steady."
"Do it." Hank urged as he walked around the bench to put his hand on Connor's hair and stared at the blinking, pulsing red L.E.D. in the deviant's right temple. "Keep him alive."
"That's the plan."
Watching as Joel gathered more supplies; extra Thirium pouches, a kit of technician's tools, liquid incrassation compound, liquid decontamination chrism, an ambubag, an external air intake line, numerous bandages and a portable processor stimulator, Hank felt like he just stepped into a makeshift operating room. Wondering what he could do, if anything at all, Hank kept his palm on Connor's hair in a comforting manner.
"Luckily Connor's stable and he's strong. He'll be able to handle this as long as I can reengage his self-healing program to focus solely on his abdomen rather than his leg." Checking over the broken leg as he spoke Joel decided that the leg could wait for treatment a while longer. "And as long as we can get his ventilation program back online, he'll recover much quicker. A broken limb can always be replaced if push comes to shove, prototype biocomponents... Not so much."
Noting Joel's words very keenly Hank gave the technician a skeptical glance. "Did you say 'we'?"
"I'm going to need you to breathe on his behalf." Holding up the ambubag for Hank to see Joel explained what was about to happen. "Once the self-healing program is rebooted his system is going to go into overdrive and he'll be at risk of rapid overheating. If he can't breathe while his self-healing program kicks on, it'll potentially cause damage to his intracranial processor."
"And how are we going to do that?" Accepting the bright blue pump Hank tried to prepare himself for the worst case scenario. "Get him breathing, that it."
"I'm going to use the external air intake line to intubate him, connect it to the ambubag, and you're going to breathe for him."
"Damn that sounds creepy... Making someone else breathe like that."
"I can see how you'd think that way." Connecting the cable from the processor stimulator to Connor's red L.E.D., Joel used the stimulator to force Connor into emergency stasis mode to ensure he was entirely unconscious during the procedure. The less Connor moved and the fewer functions active, the better. "This won't take too long to set up."
Helping Joel to readjust Connor's position on the bench Hank watched as the technician pulled open the entirety of Connor's dirtied shirt and made sure the bag already tucked beneath the deviant's shoulders were supporting Connor's neck to keep his airway perfectly clear. After Connor was in the correct position for the procedure Joel pressed a small white button the side of the stimulator and pressed his hand down on Connor's abdomen just above his navel.
"Step back." Joel warned as the artificial skin deactivated and let the collected blue blood beneath escape like a water balloon had been popped. "That's a lot of Thirium under there."
"Ah, shit!" Swearing as he backed away from the blue tide pooling over the floor Hank tried to not think about the floor of the railcar now being covered in his friend's blood. "That's disgusting..."
"Always is. This is going to look like an intubation without the gag reflex." Without even blinking Joel picked up the external air intake line and hovered over the deviant as he lowered Connor's jaw and carefully removed the plastic covering from over the line. Using a small metal tool Joel pressed down on Connor's tongue and easily slid the line down Connor's throat and could feel the line 'click' as the external line attached itself to the main internal air intake line connecting to Connor's artificial lungs within his chest. "The line's connected."
After attaching the ambubag to the other end of the line Joel motioned for Hank to take it for himself. While the senior detective gave the bag a steady squeeze Joel used his audioscope to listen to Connor's ventilation biocomponents and nodded once. Confused and feeling out of place Hank just watched as the deviant's pale chest rose and fell slowly all because Hank himself was forcing him to breathe at the moment.
"Perfect, just like that." Joel confirmed as he slung the audioscope back around his neck. "I'm going to open up the panels in his abdominal cavity and fix every possible loosened and leaking line that I can find."
"Yeah, great..." Looking up toward the ceiling Hank tried to not look at the blood on the floor or the pale chest rising and falling under his power. "How long will that take?"
"My best time is twelve minutes and forty-six seconds on total line realignment. I bet I can do this in under ten now that I'm no longer a rookie intern."
"I'll take that bet. You get him patched up and breathing on his own again," Hank's words were soft as he mentally kept himself counting upward to ensure he was helping Connor to breathe in a consistent manner. "and I'll buy you lunch for a week."
"Sounds good to me. I'm on a budget right now."
Unaware of what was happening around him Connor's system remained entirely dormant while Joel opened up his abdomen, began cleaning out the excess blood collecting in the exposed cavity, and then began reconnecting the damaged lines. The skilled and quick hands easily reconnected each loose line and repaired the damage to the lines that were torn open upon impact with the ground.
Unable to help himself or even speak, Connor was at the mercy of his trusted friends in the depths of that bleak and forgotten rail tunnel.
At the surface of the cordoned hole Captain Fowler arrived at the scene of the fall and asked for an update from Chris regarding the bizarre rescue situation. Learning that not one, but two, of his detectives had become trapped in an underground passage had given the seasoned police Captain a sense of righteous confusion and understandable frustration. Knowing that Hank, Connor and now Joel were all down below in the abandoned tunnel gave Captain Fowler a mounting unease about the very unusual and dangerous situation that they had all been thrown into all thanks to one pickpocket running over the unsteady ground and getting away while the two detectives could not.
Chris had been monitoring the scene from above, keeping reporters at bay, and had been acting as a relay between Hank and the fire department in regard to what was happening in the tunnel. Radio in hand, Chris told Captain Fowler everything that he knew and answered all of his questions accurately as he maintained control over the scene to the best of his ability.
"How're they holding up down there, Chris?"
"According to Hank," Chris replied honestly with a calm tone as he relayed the information as it became known. "Connor's pretty banged up, but Hank didn't say anything about himself. Joel got down there with his gear and no problems, but I haven't heard anything since he went down."
"Try to contact Hank again."
"Yes, sir." Holding the radio toward his lips Chris made an attempt to reestablish contact with the trio in the tunnel beneath his feet. "Lieutenant, we're requesting an update on your situation. Please respond."
A heavy pause filled the air before Hank's deep voice cut in over the line. 'We're fine. Joel's getting Connor patched up as I speak. Got an E.T.A. on the fire department and E.F.T.'s yet?'
"About five minutes away."
Captain Fowler took the radio from Chris and spoke to Hank himself. "What's your status, Hank? Are you hurt?"
'Jeffrey? Not often you leave your office for the field these days.'
"Answer the question, Hank." The man wasn't in the mood for any of Hank's sass. "Are you injured?"
'A few cuts and scrapes. I'm fine.'
"How did this even happen?"
'Chasing a suspect.' Hank replied in a firm voice. There was too much to go into just over the radio. ' The ground gave way, we fell through, and now we're stuck down here.'
The response lined up with everything he had been told and in turn Captain Fowler just shook his head. "Great, just great."
'Tell those firefighters to move their asses, and get us out of here! I don't want to have to ticket a damn fire engine for illegal parking to remind them that we're supposed to be on the same team.'
"I'll pass along the message, hang tight." Giving the radio back to Chris to keep on his person Captain Fowler let out a breathy huff as he looked at the hole being stabilized by a second team of firefighters to prevent further collapse. "I'm going to make sure the city knows about this potential deathtrap and remind them of how much the city tends to revolt when cops get killed for stupid-ass reasons. You stay here and try to keep Hank from cussing out the whole fire department."
Chris watched his commanding officer walk away and gave him a confident nod of the head. "I'll do my best, Captain."
In an impressive time of exactly nine minutes and twenty-three seconds Joel had finished the repairs to the damaged lines and had cleaned up Connor's abdominal cavity with only mild difficulty. The bottom of the technician's backpack was packed full of clean towels to be used during long hikes when he was getting exercise outside of the city or unexpected repairs when he was called to a scene, and they were currently being used to mop up the lingering blue blood that stained Connor's abdomen. Once the panels were put back into place over Connor's abdomen Joel cleaned off the white plastimetal and noted the four distinct fractures over the center of the frame that undoubtedly caused the lines beneath to become damaged.
After Connor's artificial skin had been regenerated Joel wrapped up the deviant's abdomen under a protective layer of clean white gauze to keep the fractured panels from moving until Connor's self-healing program kicked on. Checking on Connor's core temperature via Thirial activity monitor Joel was satisfied that he wouldn't overheat, and that with his abdominal injuries now tended to the self-healing program would now resume focus on the broken leg.
"You can stop breathing for him, Hank. The tube can stay his throat for now though." Giving Connor's broken leg his full attention Joel proceeded to disinfect the wound then pack it up before wrapping the remaining gauze around the limb to keep it stabilized. "I couldn't bring any splints with me, so we'll have to wait for the fire department."
"Fine by me." Detaching the ambubag from the external line Hank rubbed at his sore, bruised left shoulder and sat down on the bench next to Connor's head. Not wanting to think of the deviant as a patient who just had emergency abdominal surgery, Hank just stared at the Thirium stained floor between his feet and spoke to Joel casually. "Thanks for coming down here like this. Really ballsy of you."
"It's not a problem. I like to go rock climbing and hiking in the summertime." Finishing with Connor's broken leg Joel packed up his backpack but kept the external air intake line snaked down Connor's throat in case he became distressed. It'd be easier to reattach the bag without needing to worry about intubating Connor a second time. "Never thought it'd come in handy for a strange rescue operation like this."
"How's his heart?"
"Unaffected." Picking up the pouch of Thirium that had been delivered earlier Joel opened the pouch, held up Connor's head slightly and slowly poured the contents of the pouch into Connor's mouth around the external air intake line to reach his stomach. He didn't want to risk starting a line in the deviant's arm considering he'd still need to be moved out of the tunnel. "His heart rate never destabilized and his Thirium pressure didn't dip too low."
"Good." Watching Joel delicately pour the Thirium down Connor's throat Hank arched his brow a little. "Wouldn't it be easier to use a line in his arm?"
"Normally, yeah. But it's faster to let deviants ingest Thirium as opposed to putting it into their lines when it comes to damage like this. Not to mention our current environment wouldn't be ideal for an invasive line to get started."
"I'll take your word for it."
Never taking his eyes from his work Joel asked Hank about his own condition. "How's your ankle?"
"Huh?"
"I could see you limping around." The attentive technician noted as the Thirium pouch emptied and he gently laid Connor back down on the bench to rest. "Again, I do some hiking and rock climbing, so I know an injured ankle when I see one."
"It's not too bad." Admitting that he was in fact injured Hank sighed as looked at his right ankle with contempt in his eyes. "Sore, but I can take it."
"And your eye." Joel could see that fresh blood was beginning to soak through the gauze bandage as the cut was still bleeding heavily along Hank's brow. "You'll need a few stitches to keep that closed."
"There is no fuckin' way that I'm going to let you stitch up my eye."
"That's fair, I don't want to do that anyway."
"Yeah?" Now curious Hank asked the technician a rather unusual question as they both waited for rescue to get them out of the tunnel. "Could you even do something like that?"
"Sure." The technician admitted as he continued to monitor Connor after packing up his bag. "It's been a while, but I used to practice suturing and stitches on spare android limbs back in college. Artificial skin has the same depth and elasticity as human skin making them ideal for practice."
"And why would you practice doing something like that?"
"I couldn't afford medical insurance while I was in college, I tend to work with sharp instruments up in the dispensary and can have an accident, and again, rock climbing. It's a pretty handle skill to master."
"Oh. Fair enough."
The sound of loud banging echoed through the tunnel as the firefighters finally made their way down and into the abandoned tunnel to rescue the two wounded detectives and help Joel get back up to the surface. Hank let out a deep breath of relief as he looked toward Connor and draped his coat back over the deviant's body protectively.
"I'll direct the firefighters our way." Joel volunteered as he exited the railcar to roam about the tunnel. "Keep him warm and quiet."
"No problem."
Returning his palm to Connor's forehead Hank smirked a little and gave the deviant a coy grin. The sight of the tube hanging out of Connor's mouth wasn't too appealing, but it was a necessary evil. As long as Connor continued to breathe and have a steady heartbeat, Hank wasn't going to complain.
"Glad you pulled through, kid. Hate to think how you'd be right now if you had to wait any longer for help to arrive."
An hour after falling into the hole Hank and Connor were rescued at long last and escorted out of the tunnel by the responding firefighters. While Hank was aware of everything happening at all times Connor had remained unconscious throughout his emergency repair and the rescue itself. The two responding E.F.T.'s worked alongside Joel to secure his broken leg in a splint before popping the limb back into the joint, giving Connor additional Thirium, and then removing the external line in favor of an oxygen mask to keep his core temperature cool. With Connor now secured in a set of emergency transport stokes, the firefighters carried him out of the tunnel with Hank limping at Joel's side right behind them.
Being brought out of the tunnel was a welcomed feeling but that feeling quickly faded when the duo was swarmed by emergency personnel checking them over for injuries. Hank was taken to St. Mercy Hospital in one ambulance, and Connor was taken away in an android unique ambulance to the Delta Facility for further treatment.
Sporting a pair of crutches and fresh set of seven stitches above his left eye, Hank made his way to Connor's private recovery room where he spotted the deviant resting in the bed with Joel keeping him company. Seeing the deviant's eyes open, his artificial skin no longer pale, and him breathing on his own gave Hank the reassurance he desperately needed.
Connor's abdomen was still heavily bandaged up and now his entire right leg was secured in a plastimetal brace from the hip to the ankle. The damaged limb had been repaired, cleaned up and put in traction as his self-healing program did its thing. Thanks to the work of Dr. Wells the wounded deviant detective would make a full recovery in just a few days.
"Hey, kid." Limping over to the bed Hank looked down at Connor and put his left hand to Connor's right shoulder. "You look a hell of a lot better."
"I feel better, too." Connor admitted as he looked up at Hank and eyed the bandaged on Hank's forehead. "How about you?"
"I'm fine. I got good news for ya'. Tina found our pickpocket while on patrol and arrested him." Remaining relatively upbeat Hank looked at the healing cuts and bruises on Connor's face with a faint smirk on his own. "The idiot had two illegally obtained biocomponents, six wallets, nine phones, a gun, and a shitty alibi. He's going away for a long time."
"That is good news."
Joel decided that since Connor was awake, Hank was there and that neither detective was in critical condition, that it was time for him to take his leave. "Since you two are good here I'm going to head back to the precinct to start on my report. I'll be sure to say nice things about you."
"Hey, thanks again for helping us." Hank extended his hand and shook the technician's hand firmly while balancing on his crutches. "We appreciate it."
"You're welcome. Just don't ask me to do that again." Joel requested as he patted the backpack strap slung over his shoulder. "I don't always have my gear in my truck."
Connor too shook Joel's hand and watched as the precinct technician took his leave of the facility. "Thank you for saving my life."
"It's my pleasure." The kind technician humbly accepted Connor's hand and then proceeded on his way. "See you soon."
Putting his crutches aside Hank pulled up a chair and sat down beside the deviant's bed with every intention of not getting up unless the building caught fire or he had to take a piss. "How's your leg?"
"Rebuilt." Connor stated as he ran a scan over the secured limb and ran his palm down his sore hip. "It's easier to rebuild the limbs of a prototype than it is to replace them. That's rather a rather unfortunate oversight from CyberLife."
"Being unique can be a double-edged sword, kid. At least you're still alive."
"As are you. How is your ankle?"
"Hairline fracture, nothing serious." Stretching out his right leg Hank showed Connor the supportive boot he had to wear while the joint healed. "My left shoulder has a glorious purple bruise on it, too."
"I'll take a bruise over a break."
"You and me both, kid. Guess we're both going to be on crutches for a while." An amusing thought popped in his head as he thought about how they'd both be limping around the house together. "Hope Sumo doesn't mind us taking a break from his walks until we heal."
"Given the circumstances I'm sure he'll understand. I'll be able to walk again in two days, just as before." Rubbing his palm over his sore abdomen next Connor sighed and tried to cybernetically tap into his terminal at the precinct, but his system was still struggling to reboot all of his cybernetic processes fully. The blue tinted L.E.D. flickered to yellow rapidly for a moment before returning to blue. "What of the precinct?"
"Well," crossing his arms over his chest Hank leaned back in his chair and gave Connor a dismissive glance. "Fowler's chewing out the asshole who's supposed to be monitoring that property for sinkholes and other problems, Ben's forensics team is going to photograph everything to showcase how shitty that tunnel is, Chris is being rewarded for his quick thinking in getting Joel to the scene and down into the hole, and Gavin is interrogating our suspect while Tina takes notes and learns from the master on how to be an asshole to suspects in interrogation. Lance and Sarah Lee are going to cover our patrols until we get back, so hey, overtime!"
"Sounds like business as usual."
Chuckling at the comment Hank didn't disagree with the assessment whatsoever. "Welp, you're not wrong about that."
"Are you going to return to the house tonight?"
"Nah, it's too quiet whenever you're gone." It wasn't a lie, but the real truth was Hank wanted to keep his eyes on Connor as much as possible. "I'll stay here with you until you're cleared to return home in the morning."
"Thank you."
"No problem." Rubbing his palm over the back of his tense neck Hank let out a sigh and gave Connor an appreciative smirk. "For what it's worth, thanks for breaking my fall. I didn't mean to break your stomach in return, but, you know..."
"You're welcome. I'm just glad you weren't hurt worse than you were."
"Ditto." The idea of losing Connor in such a random and foolish way was enough to make Hank's stomach twist into a tight, nauseating knot. "The only thing that's worse than filing reports on wounded officers is having to break in a new partner after you lose the old one. Not to mention losing one of the few best friends I've ever had."
The sweet comment made Connor smirk and feel much better. "Thanks, Hank."
-next chapter-
Author's Note: *Compound fracture is when the bone breaks in such a severe manner that the bone actually tears through the skin, exposing the bone to the world to see and a highly probable infection.
