While Hank happily stayed home from work to let his injured rib and stitched up chest heal after dealing with a madman with a bomb; the events of one spectacularly awful day at work, Connor was finding it quite difficult to remain as idle while his reattached left arm and shoulder also healed from the devastating explosion while at the precinct. The deviant detective's progress on his casework remained flawless and his speed on filing reports was still impressive, but being alone without Hank and in pain had been more stressful than Connor could've anticipated. Working solo wasn't something Connor particularly enjoyed and being limited to desk duty made his previous shift feel all the more tedious.

Still relying on the sling to keep his arm as stable as possible until his self-healing program recalibrated the function of his reattached limb, Connor paced about the house at two in the morning trying to cope with the chronic pain that plagued his sensors. A majority of Connor's restlessness could also be attributed to the deviant stubbornly pushing his self-healing program into overdrive to function faster than normal. The yellow glow of his L.E.D. only emphasized how tired and stressed out he truly was.

Loyal as ever, Sumo was laying on the kitchen floor watching Connor walk back and forth across the livingroom floor with his right hand rubbing at his sore left shoulder in an attempt to quell the constant ache that had proven itself to be too distracting to even enter rest mode for the night. Giving the deviant a gentle wag of his tail Sumo just watched the pacing as if he were trying to figure out what his deviant master was trying to do as he walked about at steady clip.

"Connor?" From down the dark hallway through Hank's closed bedroom door the senior detective shouted at Connor in a gruff, sleepy tone. "Fuckin' go to sleep! You walking around all night is driving me fuckin' nuts!"

"...Sorry." Connor sincerely apologized as he stopped moving and tried to stop himself from thinking about his sore arm. The cruelty of being aware of emotions and gaining the depth to truly feel anything always seemed to flare up at the most inopportune time. "I'll stop pacing."

There was a pause from down the hall before Hank spoke up again from his own bedroom. "...Didn't mean to yell at ya', I'm just tired."

"As am I." The healing deviant admitted lowly as he continued to rub at his sore shoulder and stay perfectly still in place behind the couch. As much as Connor wanted to resume pacing he didn't want to upset Hank in the process. "I wish to enter rest mode."

"Then why don't you go to sleep already?"

"I cannot. My shoulder is preventing me from entering rest mode due to the persistent discomfort."

"Seriously?" Hank's voice sounded as incredulous as it was tired. "An android with insomnia... Un-fuckin'-believable."

"I will be quiet now." Connor called out again as he walked back toward the front couch with the intention of laying down and staying down as promised. "Go back to sleep, Hank. Goodnight."

"...Come here." Hank requested calmly from his bedroom as he softened his tone of voice. "Just for a minute, kid."

Turning to look over the back of the couch and down the hallway Connor's yellow L.E.D. briefly flashed to red with concern. "Do you need something?"

"Yeah. You. Get your butt down here so I don't have to keep yellin'."

Silently Connor rose from the couch, walked down the hallway, and to the bedroom as requested and pushed the door open slowly. Hank was already sitting up on the edge of the bed wide awake with his right palm pressed against his still healing stitched up left chest and shoulder. The lack of rest seemed to be a running theme in the household that night.

"What do you need?"

"Give me a hand, will ya'?"

Obediently Connor walked over to the bed and wrapped his arm around Hank's waist to help the man to stand upright on the floor without hurting his healing chest in the process. Hank leaned heavily against Connor's shoulder as he let the deviant guide him down the hallway. Connor was expecting to help Hank walk into the bathroom, only to have Hank continue down the hallway and into the livingroom.

"What're you doing?" The deviation from the expected path left Connor entirely perplexed. "I thought you wanted to rest."

"I do. But as tired as I am I can't sleep either." Keeping his hand to his sore chest Hank rubbed at the stitched-up patch of skin beneath the bandages lightly. Even after being cleaned up and having antibiotics and painkillers on his side, the pain was too much to bear. "Fuckin' chest keeps throbbing whenever I try to lay in a position that doesn't kill my back. I just can't win."

"I see. I'm not accustomed to remaining active at night without a case to work on, so it seems I cannot win either."

"That's why you're going to join me in watching a movie." Sounding so certain of himself Hank motioned briefly toward the turned off television. "Something old and preferably something boring. That usually helps me fall asleep."

"What movie did you have in mind?" Connor asked curiously as he carried Hank around the side of the couch and helped him to sit down in the recliner. "I have no personal preferences in regard to film genre."

"Not sure yet, but I'll find something." Hank turned on the television with the remote and began searching through the possible movies to watch. There was quite an impressive list already saved and ready to be watched. "Go lay down on the couch, try to relax and I'll find something for us to watch."

Connor did as he was told and laid down on the couch flat on his back with his head propped up on a pillow against the arm of the couch. Without even thinking about it, Connor tucked the large pillow up under his sore shoulder and neck to try to keep any pressure and weight from his pushing down on his still healing injury as if following an unspoken and unknown instinct.

Sumo finally wandered into the livingroom from the kitchen and plopped down on the floor between the couch and the coffee table to keep the two detectives some company throughout the night. Connor's good hand the instinctively fell off the edge of the couch to pet Sumo's head and acknowledge the loyal dog.

"Here, this will work." Finally, Hank had selected the movie and let it play. Kicking up his feet on the recliner's footrest Hank leaned back and partially closed his eyes to try to fall asleep. "This film is plenty old."

"Yes, it is old." Unfamiliar with the movie Connor read the title of the film on screen and accessed his databanks to find information on the movie that Hank had chosen. "'The Wizard of Oz'; original story written by L. Frank Baum. This year is the one-hundredth year anniversary for this particular film. It was partially based off the novel written in-"

"Connor, let me give you some advice." Stopping Connor mid report Hank tried to get the deviant to relax and finally rest. "Never compare the original books to the movie adaptations. It'll never hold up, so don't get your hopes up too high. Well, except for maybe 'Jurassic Park' and 'The Lord of the Rings' trilogy."

"Noted."

"Anyway," Hank stared at the film as it began playing on the large television screen in all its black and white glory. "like I said, this film is plenty old. Saw it as a kid a few times with my parents when we had family movie night. My maternal grandmother loved it when we watched this together. I think it was her favorite movie since she grew up in Kansas and didn't move to Detroit until she after met my grandpa."

Unsure of the significance of the comment Connor stayed on the couch and closed his soulful brown eyes in an attempt to enter rest mode. The deviant partially listened to the film playing on the television screen a few feet from where he was laying as he tried to rest as told. Connor allowed his body to relax and his mind to drift, but the chronic ache in his left shoulder would occasionally flare up causing him to roll onto his right side to keep as much weight off the damaged limb as possible.

"You okay over there?" The fidgeting didn't go unnoticed by Hank even as the human began to drift off to sleep. Sleeping in an upright position seemed to be easing the physical pain and strain in his left chest and shoulder. "You can't seem to lay still."

"I'm fine." Turning his head slightly Connor spoke to Hank in a tired voice to keep the pillow from muffling his words. "I just can't get comfortable due to my injury."

"Did you try putting ice on your shoulder?"

"Ice?" The suggestion seemed entirely illogical. "What for? I'm not overheating."

"Sorry, I sometimes I forget you don't have the same reaction to pain as humans do."

"Are you in pain?"

"Not anymore. I'm okay like this."

Sighing deeply Connor pressed the side of his face back down against the soft couch cushion and wrapped his hand around his healing left shoulder protectively as he tried and failed to ignore the pain in the wounded limb. Despite his best efforts to ignore the ache Connor couldn't seem to think about anything but his pain.

"Hank?"

"Yeah?"

"Would it be appropriate to say that 'this sucks'?"

"Yeah, kid." The man laughed a little at the question and approved the answer. "It's appropriate."

"All right, then this sucks." After he spoke Connor suddenly realized what he had said and made sure Hank understood what he truly meant. "My pain, not the movie."

"I figured as much. Just try to sleep."

Unable to sleep in spite of his best efforts Connor watched the movie silently, his eyes occasionally drifting up to see that Hank was already asleep in the recliner with no sign of distress - emotional or physical - anywhere on his face. It was almost envious to see Hank sleeping peacefully while Connor could not.

As the movie played out well into the wicked witch's castle where Dorothy had been taken captive, Connor found himself curiously enthralled by the plight of the eclectic characters and of their journey together. How one character just wanted to find her way home, how another wanted to gain knowledge, how the third character wanted to overcome his numerous fears and the fourth character; the machine looking man, just wanted to have a heart of his own, were all relatable to some degree.

The concept was eerily familiar to Connor. The desire to find a home, to understand himself and the world around him, to overcome the obstacles holding him back on an emotional level, and to comprehend those very emotions were potent and drove him to keep moving forward. It was all surreal to know that a tale of fantasy could parallel real life.

Empathy was strangely found looking at the Tinman and now Connor understood why Gavin often referred to him by such a nickname at the precinct. Although, Connor suspect that Gavin meant for the nickname to be an insult and not an endearing comparison.

The movie ended happily with Dorothy back home and surrounded by her family, and Connor cybernetically turned off the television before rolling onto his back to try and sleep at long last. The journey of the four characters was resonating somewhere deep inside Connor's programming and kept him from entering rest mode as he had planned, not to mention the return of the ache in his left shoulder. The searing shoulder pain had forced Connor to sit upright and clutch at the healing wound desperately as he manually activated his self-healing program into full function yet again.

Sumo too sat upright on the floor and stared at Connor curiously as the deviant continued to remain awake. It didn't take long for Connor to notice Sumo and call out to the dog in a beckoning manner.

"...I'm okay, Sumo."

Connor promised as he got up from the couch and stepped around the massive dog.

"I'm just going to get some ice as Hank suggested. I'll try anything at this point to ease my pain."

Wandering silently into the kitchen, Connor pulled open the freezer door and pulled out the large bag of ice that Hank kept in the back of the compartment for the sake of convenience. Pressing it down against his left shoulder over top his black t-shirt, Connor returned to the livingroom and laid back down on the couch to try to finally rest. Waiting patiently for any change in the degree of pain in his left shoulder Connor was surprised to note a significant lessening of the severity in the persistent ache the longer the ice was in place. The cold temperature resonated through the damaged joint to create a somewhat numbing effect.

"Curious."

The deviant whispered to himself as he held the ice in place and scanned his injury site.

"This does seem to help."

Noting that the cold temperature was soothing to his own injury Connor remembered that warmth was often preferable for humans. Looking over at Hank still resting peacefully in the recliner Connor was compelled to repay the gruff senior detective's kindness toward him; not only for suggesting the ice but for being his friend and giving him a place to live, not to mention being a mentor to help guide him on his path of deviancy.

Standing up from the couch Connor made his way to the wounded detective's bedroom and pulled the messy quilt from Hank's bed. After carrying the thick blanket down the hallway Connor draped it over Hank's sleeping form without disturbing him in the process, and then returned to the couch to lay down. He needed to rest and he wanted to sleep through his pain as much as he could.

"Thank you, Hank."

Feeling a mild reprieve from the pain Connor was finally able to enter his rest mode for the remainder of the night and well into the morning without any further disturbance. The pain had subsided, the movie had captured Connor's mind, and now he was able to stop thinking about his still damaged left shoulder.

When Connor awoke several hours later, the night turning to dawn, he found himself under the very quilt that he had given to Hank and smelled the fresh coffee coming from the hot pot in the kitchen. Glancing upward over the armrest of the couch Connor saw Hank sitting in his recliner with a steaming mug of the same coffee while he watched Connor sleep, and he had Sumo sprawled out over his legs in deep sleep of his own.

"You tried the ice, I see." Hank observed wryly from where he sat. The now melted ice pack was still being clutched by Connor to his left shoulder even after he awoke from his restful slumber. "Did it work?"

"Yes. It helped." Connor pulled the bag of ice from his numbed shoulder to be taken care of later. Sitting up slowly Connor neatly put the quilt beside him on the couch as he no longer needed it, and Hank didn't want it back. "Thank you for suggesting it."

"No problem. It's amazing what strange little things can help you to relax when you're feeling like shit. For me it's a late night movie, for you it's a pack of ice and a little patience." The smug man tentatively sipped his coffee and studied Connor's body language curiously. "I think you're more human than even you realize, kid."

"I find that highly doubtful." Connor carefully unfastened the strap of the protective sling around his right shoulder and pulled his left arm free of the restrictive fabric. He slowly flexed the healing joint and found no sign of lingering ache, injury or limitations to his range. "No pain. My healing self-healing program has finished, and my left arm is now fully functional."

"Damn." Hank was envious of the deviant's recovery rate and looked down at his own injury with a longing gaze. "Wish I could heal like that."

"Really?" Connor gave the senior detective a slight tilt of his head as he held out the partially melted bag of ice toward Hank to take. "Would you like some melted ice? By your own admission it helped."

"No thanks." Amused by the question Hank laughed as he sipped his coffee again and shook his head. For the first time in many years, Hank didn't feel like hiding away from the winter world outside or drinking himself into oblivion to ignore it. "Smartass."

-next chapter-