It had been a miserable week since Lucas's rainy funeral and Connor hadn't left his old bedroom in Hank's house since the night he and Hank returned home after that painfully melancholy day. Steadfast in his thick silence, Connor just laid on his side with his back to the door of his room and his somber eyes staring through the glass of the aquarium against the far wall. The mourning deviant was exhausted mentally, emotionally and physically from his grief; but Connor was either too stubborn or too upset to admit it even after Hank continually urged him to open up and talk about what was weighing down against his almost too human heart. There were just some feelings and experiences that couldn't be put into words.

Ever loyal to his deviant master, Sumo was laying on the foot of the bed next to Connor's legs with his chin resting on Connor's hip as he kept the morose deviant company during his darkest days. The massive dog could sense Connor's despair and was set on staying by his side until he felt better, and seemed to be the only presence that Connor could tolerate at the moment.

Hank periodically checked in on Connor out of a deep-seated paternal instinct, but every time he peered inside the dim bedroom Connor was still laying on his side with his back to the door, staring ahead blankly at the brightly colored fish swimming about in the aquarium without moving beyond at all. It was a heartbreaking sight to behold, and it hurt Hank knowing that he couldn't do anything to help his son feel better.

"Son?" Putting his hand to Connor's shoulder Hank made his presence known without startling the deviant in the process. "I know you're tired of me asking you this, but do you need anything?"

Connor blinked slowly but didn't answer the question. The deviancy in Connor seemed to outweigh any other aspect of his programming as his behavior was more indicative of a depressed human than anything remotely machine-like. Heavy eyelids from pure exhaustion and sorrow marred his previously bright, soulful brown eyes. Having refused to sleep for seven consecutive nights out of fear of nightmares, Connor's system was functioning solely on low power mode causing his other programs to temporarily shut down, including his artificial respiration and in turn his artificial skin had paled considerably from the lack of energy being provided to the skin projection program.

"I know you don't want to have any nightmares, but you do need to sleep." Hank stated with a fatherly concern as he kept his hand on Connor's shoulder. "If you don't rest soon, then you're going to collapse and will need a technician's care. I don't want to see you sick, hurt, or admitted to a facility because of that."

No answer.

"How's your Thirium levels? I ordered a new supply of that stuff, and it came in the mail this morning if you want some."

Still no reply.

"Okay, I'll let you be alone." Giving up for only a moment Hank chose to leave the bedroom as the deviant so clearly wanted. "I'll be out in the livingroom if you need me, son. Just ask."

Running a hand through his gray locks Hank tried to think of some way, anyway, to help pull Connor out of the emotional pit of despair he had fallen into as he took his leave of the bedroom. Wandering down the hallway and into the livingroom Hank peered at the boxes Markus had delivered on Hank's request.

Cardboard boxes containing the personal items that had been brought over to the house from Lucas and Connor's now vacated apartment were scattered about the livingroom in a controlled mess. Everything Lucas held dear could be contained in six cardboard boxes, and Hank swore there was something beautifully symbolic by the simplicity of android needs compared to that of selfish human desires.

Two other boxes had been brought over from the apartment as well. The two additional boxes contained only Connor's clothing and a large canvas painting that had protectively been wrapped up beneath a white sheet. Hank had already taken the liberty of unpacking Connor's clothes and hanging them up in the closet in Connor's bedroom or folding them into the dresser drawers on the deviant's behalf. He had left the painting alone since it was Connor's decision what he wanted to do with it.

Curious about the contents of the remaining cardboard boxes Hank picked up the smallest box first and sat it on the coffee table. As he pulled open the cardboard flaps Hank peered inside and found the contents to be perfectly packed with bottles of oil paint, a wooden paint pallet and two dozen uniquely tipped paintbrushes.

"Lucas really was an avid painter. I wish I could paint like he could."

Hank smiled a little as he put the box aside on the floor to be taken care of later on.

"It's a shame he didn't get more recognition for his talent as a creative soul."

It was then Hank noticed a smaller black box about the size of a half-dollar wedged in the corner of the larger box. Pulling it out Hank opened the box and felt a lump form in his throat as he recognized it as the coin that Connor had given to Lucas after the generous deviant nearly crippled his hand to use his own circuitry to repair the damage to Connor's heart after Connor had been stabbed by a crazed anti-android bigot.

"Those two and their damn coins."

Hank smiled wider as he closed the lid to the smaller box and sat it down atop the paint inside the larger box.

"Must've been a brother-thing or something."

As Hank reached for the next box the doorbell rang unexpectedly and made him freeze. Not exactly dressed for company, wearing only his black worn out, faded 'Knights of the Black Death' t-shirt and gray sweatpants, Hank considered ignoring the guest but decided the last thing he needed to do was act as reclusive as Connor was behaving. Opening the front door slowly Hank peered outside and was immediately embarrassed when he realized who had stopped by.

"Rose!" Hank blushed a little as he locked eyes with the kindhearted woman standing on his front doorstep. "H-Hi."

"Hello, Hank." Rose smiled warmly as she greeted the senior detective with a genuine kindness to her voice. "I just wanted to see how you and Connor were doing after the funeral, but I didn't have your phone number saved on my new phone. I hope you don't mind me stopping by unannounced."

"No, no, it's okay." Blushing a little more Hank stepped backward as he kept his hand on the doorknob to hold the door open. "Uh, do you want to come inside?"

"As long as I'm not intruding."

"No, of course not." Determined to save face Hank opened the door wide and stepped aside to let Rose walk into his modest home. "Just, uh, let me change into something clean. You just caught me off guard on laundry day, that's all."

Rose hid her amused grin as she watched the embarrassed detective rush down the hallway to change into more suitable clothes in the privacy of his bedroom. Glancing about the house Rose noted the cardboard boxes with the name 'Lucas' perfectly printed in CyberLife sans text on the side of the boxes in black ink, and it didn't take her long to figure out what the boxes were there for. The large rectangular shapes covered under sheets that jutted out of the tops of the boxes, as well as the distinct aroma of oil paint, identified the rectangles as paintings that Lucas had created during his lifetime and Rose was intrigued by their presence.

Now changed into more presentable clothing Hank returned from the livingroom now wearing a clean solid colored navy t-shirt and a dark pair of blue jeans. He cleared his throat awkwardly as he tried to start small talk with the empathetic woman.

"We saw you and Adam at the funeral. Thanks for stopping by, we appreciate it."

"Of course." Ever gracious Rose reminded Hank that she and Adam were friends to all deviants. "Lucas was important to New Jericho and to both of you. We had to pay our respects."

"Please, have a seat." Hank motioned to the couch and Rose happily sat down at one end of the furniture while Hank sat down at the other end. "Sorry about the mess, neither of us have been in much of a 'cleaning' mood these past few days."

"Don't apologize, no one would blame you. So," lightly Rose put her hand on Hank's knee as she spoke in her sweet, motherly tone. "how're you holding up right now? Anything you want to talk about?"

"I'm doing better than I thought I would. Probably because I'm not going through it alone this time."

"And Connor?"

"...He's in terrible shape." The senior detective and protective father let out a deep sigh and leaned forward as he folded his hands together atop his lap. "It's been a week, and he hasn't said one word to me or slept since we've come home from the funeral."

"What?" Surprised by the comment Rose's eyes widened with genuine concern. "He isn't sleeping?"

"Nightmares. He won't admit it but he's afraid he's going to have a nightmare about what happened to Lucas." Hank gave Rose a deeply concerned stare as he confided in her about Connor's current condition. "He's already in low power mode because he refuses to sleep, and I know his Thirium levels have to be getting dangerously low. But he won't respond to me when I ask him questions."

"That sounds like the way Adam was behaving when his father passed away." The kind woman and mother empathized with Hank's dilemma. "He hid away in his bedroom for a couple of weeks. He barely ate or spoke to me all that time and I was worried sick that he was going to fall away from me entirely."

"How'd you help him?"

"Patience. Time." Rose moved her hand from Hank's knee and rested it on Hank's hand instead. "He'll be okay, Hank. You need to give him that same time and patience, or you'll lose him."

"I know that. I just hate seeing him so broken." It was a heartfelt admission that was painful to acknowledged. "If you had met Connor before he went deviant you would never believe he used to be such a cold, heartless machine. Seeing him without that warmth, that zeal for life and his curiosity, is just brutally painful."

"Connor is the most advanced prototype that was ever made, right?"

"That's right. He's one of a kind."

"Maybe it's that advanced programming that lets Connor feel emotions so deeply and so relentlessly." Rose squeezed Hank's hand a little as she spoke. "He's truly unique and he's experienced more emotional hardship in the short time that he's been deviant than most people ever will throughout their entire lives."

"Yeah, I know. I just wish he'd talk to me; I don't know why he won't tell me what's on his mind."

"My guess is he feels like he'd be burdening you with his emotions and it wouldn't be fair because you're upset about Lucas, too. That's what made it so hard to connect with Adam when he was grieving." Speaking about her past grief seemed to be bridging an emotional gap between the two humans as Rose spoke sweetly to her good friend. "He didn't want me to carry all the emotional weight while he readjusted to our new lives, and it was only when he started to talk to me about it did everything make sense. Do you want me to speak with Connor for a minute?"

"You'd do that? I mean, that's a pretty big ask, even from a trusted friend."

"After everything you two have done for me and Adam, and what you've done for all of the other deviants in the city, it'd be my honor to help you."

"...If you feel like you can reach him," Hank paused for a moment before he gave the kindhearted woman his answer. "I won't stop you. His bedroom is right down the hall on the left. The door should still be open."

"I'll go speak with him for a few minutes. Maybe speaking to another deviant who's been through this before could help him out if I can't help him. It's amazing how speaking with a kindred spirit when in pain can help a broken heart heal."

"Another- you mean Markus." Hank nodded a little as he caught onto what Rose was saying. He couldn't deny that she had a good idea regarding a second plan in the event their first plan didn't plan out. "I'll give him a call."

Rose gave Hank's hand one last squeeze before she stood up from the couch and walked down the hallway quietly. Pushing open the partially closed bedroom door in the middle of the hallway she peered inside and saw Connor laying on his side on the bed, his back still toward the now fully opened door. The massive form of Sumo was still laying at the foot of his bed with his chin on Connor's hip.

With a simple wag of his tail Sumo acknowledged the kind woman's presence standing in the doorway.

"Hi, Connor. It's me, Rose." Rose greeted from the doorway before she entered the bedroom. "Can I come in?"

The deviant didn't answer. He didn't even move at the sound of the familiar and warm voice.

Unfazed by the lack of motion from Connor laying on the bed Rose walked into the bedroom and walked around the foot of the bed to the other side so she could look Connor in the eyes while she spoke. Unable to contain her motherly instincts Rose gently placed her hand on the side of the deviant's pale face before running her fingers through his dark hair with a loving motion to try to comfort the emotionally distressed deviant as much as she could.

Sumo just watched her without moving from his protective spot on the bed as he sensed she was a gentle soul.

"You feel a little warm." Rose quickly noted that Connor's condition wasn't favorable and asked about it. "Are you overheating?"

Connor didn't speak, instead his answer came in the form of a forced breath as he manually turned on his ventilation program to cool down his slightly elevated core temperature. The single exhalation was uncommonly hot and had to have been uncomfortable.

"I know it isn't easy trying to move on with your life after someone you cared so much about has died." Softly Rose kept running her hand lightly through Connor's hair as she spoke to him. "It doesn't seem right, does it?"

Connor blinked slowly as his eyes drifted from the aquarium and up to Rose's face as she spoke sympathetically to him.

"Someone you care about is gone and you're just supposed to go back to your normal routine, your normal life, like nothing happened. Like the person who you just lost was somehow so insignificant and inconsequential that nothing has changed or ever will change without them. And we know that it's not true."

Connor's eyes searched Rose's eyes as he felt a sense of true compassion coming from her every word.

"Let me ask you something. Would Lucas want you to lay in bed doing nothing until you shutdown, or would he want you to continue to live your life to the fullest, even if he wasn't there to live life with you?"

Slowly Connor blinked again as he let his eyes drift away from Rose and back to the aquarium.

"During our time together a few months ago, Hank told me about what happened to Cole." Continuing to gently fuss with Connor's hair Rose tried to reach the grieving deviant on an emotional and understanding level. "The pain that comes from the loss of a loved one is a pain that is unparalleled to any other pain you can ever experience. And I know right now Hank's feeling the pain that he thought he'd never feel again. Not just because of the loss of Lucas, but because you're in so much pain, too."

Connor's eyes suddenly darted back up to Rose and though she couldn't see it from where she was sitting, his red L.E.D. briefly flashed to yellow before cycling back to what had become its standard red color over the past week. The deviant felt only negative emotions resulting in the negative color.

"Hank also told me how after he met you and spent time with you, watching you become deviant, and over time become more human and less machine, that it made him realize how much more of life he still wanted to live. You helped him to remember what it truly means to be alive instead of just existing." Speaking from her own heart on Hank's behalf, Rose reminded Connor that he was still very important and loved in the world even without his little brother to look up to him. "If you let yourself stop living, then what would that tell Hank?"

Closing his eyes fully a rogue tear began to roll down the side of his face and Rose used her thumb to gently brush it away.

"It's okay. I'm not trying to guilt you or anything, but I am trying to remind you that while you want the world to stop spinning for a moment while you're grieving, it simply won't. You can miss Lucas AND still live your life, honey." Rose never stopped carding her fingers through Connor's hair as she did her best to be of some comfort to the distraught deviant. "You don't have to choose one emotion over the other. You feel whatever it is that you need to feel."

Nodding slowly Connor acknowledged Rose's words as he reached his own hand up to wipe off the rest of the tear from his cheek around her soft hand.

"Do you want to be left alone?"

Connor nodded again and Rose retracted her hand from his hair and rubbed her hand down his arm as she walked around the bed to exit the bedroom.

"Okay. When you're ready to talk, Hank will be waiting for you." After rising from the bed, Rose gently pulled the door partially shut behind her as she left and rejoined Hank in the livingroom. "And he's ready to listen. Just do what you need to do in order to feel better."

Hank was sitting on the couch holding the small black box in his hand staring intently at the coin contained inside. As Rose walked back down the hallway, he turned his head to look over the back of the couch to the wonderful woman and eagerly asked for an update.

"Well?"

"I don't think I've ever seen such a young face look so old."

"The sad thing is, I know exactly what you mean." Hank let out a despondent sigh as the comment was less than encouraging. "Did you get him to talk?"

"No." Rose confirmed sadly but her voice still carried a lilt of optimism. "He's still upset but I think I managed to reach him to some extent. I think he's afraid that by going on with his life that he's somehow betraying Lucas's memory."

"Makes sense." The father figure nodded a little as he put the lid back on the box and slipped it into his jean pocket. "I felt the same way when I lost Barbara and then again when I lost Cole..."

"Did you manage to reach Markus?" Rose interjected quickly as she could see a dark cloud setting over Hank's eyes as he spoke. It was a logical distraction without getting too far off topic. "He might be the one to reach Connor on a level we simply can't do as humans."

"Yeah. He said he'd be over soon." The deviant leader answered Hank's phone call quickly and was eager to help his pained friend. Hank held up his phone for a moment then sat it aside as he took in a deep breath to settle his own nerves. "I guess he already has something he wants to give to Connor anyway."

"If you don't mind me asking," Rose smiled as she looked at the remaining unpacked boxes with Lucas's name printed on the sides. She nodded at the sheets over the canvases Rose asked about their origins. "Did Lucas paint those?"

"Huh?" Hank looked to Rose as she motioned to the cardboard boxes filled with the rectangular canvases. "Oh, yeah. Connor plays guitar and Lucas used to paint. And it looks like he painted A LOT. He was damn good."

"Can I see some of them?"

"Yeah... I suppose so." Hank rose from the couch and approached the cardboard box that he had wanted to check through before Rose even arrived and pulled the large canvases out of the box carefully. Unwrapping the sheet that was protecting the piece Hank stared at the image with righteous awe. "Wow... It's New Jericho Tower in all its glory."

"That's incredible." Rose watched as Hank repositioned the painting in his hands for Rose to see for herself. "I know androids have the ability to perfectly recall places and people they've seen, but I've never seen an android capture an image so perfectly in paint."

"Lucas had genuine talent. This is the kind of work that humans pay thousands of dollars to try to learn for themselves."

Feeling a little better Hank sat the painting down against the side of the recliner and pulled out the next painting to examine. With the same care as before Hank unwrapped the sheet and looked at the next image. It depicted Markus and North standing together as they overlooked the successful peaceful Revolution from the heart of the plaza on that fateful night. Lucas even managed to capture genuine emotion in the eyes of the two deviants as they held exposed white plastimetal hands while surrounded by the deviants they had worked together to free.

"Lucas wasn't even there that night." Impressed by the details Hank shook his head in genuine surprise at what he was seeing. "How'd he do this?"

"Wow..." Rose walked over from the couch and examined the gorgeous painting herself. "He must've painted it after learning about what happened that night. A perfect interpretation from what he had been told by the deviants at New Jericho Tower."

"I wish I had spent more time at his and Connor's apartment and watched Lucas work. This is astounding." Handing Rose the painting, Hank readily took the third and final painting from the box and removed the sheet. The image displayed stunned him in a way he didn't think was possible. "...The bridge."

"From the park." Rose looked at the surreal, somber painting with a curious stare. "That's you and Connor."

It was a dark night with a partially illuminated bridge in the background. Hank was sitting on the park bench with Connor standing at his side as snow began to fall gently from the sky above.

"Connor told him everything. That was the night I... I threatened to- I just wanted to see how Connor, back when he was still a machine, would react if faced with death." Hank looked away from the painting with shame in his blue eyes. "That was so cruel. I wish I could take it back."

"You were a lot angrier back then." Rose put her hand on Hank's arm and lowered the painting from his sight. "Connor knows you would never hurt him."

"I seriously hope so." With a careful touch Hank let Rose take the painting from his hands and sit aside with the other two paintings. Reaching for the third box Hank pulled out the lone, largest painting and unwrapped it gingerly from its sheet. As Hank looked over the image he felt a smile creep over his face. "...This is a lot better."

"Did he paint everyone from memory?" Rose smiled as she looked at the painting with genuine awe. The details, the colors and the overall emotion were just exquisite in every way imaginable. "Everyone looks so happy."

"He must've used a memory or inspiration for this one. I sure as hell didn't stand there and pose."

The painting showed Lucas himself, Connor, Hank, Markus, North, Josh and Simon all standing together side by side, with looks of contentment and triumph in their eyes. There was a strong aura of camaraderie over the group that seemed to give the painting itself genuine life.

"Talk about serious talent."

A knock at the front door drew Hank's attention away from the painting and to the newly arrived guest. Carefully he sat the painting on the floor before he walked over to the front door and pulled it open.

"All kinds of visitors today." Happy to see the familiar face Hank stepped aside and let his awaited guest enter the house. "Hey, Markus. I appreciate you stopping by to help out Connor."

"I'm happy to help." Markus stepped inside the home and noticed the collection of paintings that Hank and Rose were now checking through. A discreet grin appeared on his face as he immediately thought of Carl and how the studio always smelled of fresh paint and how the entire house held various size canvases with just as many various images as Carl's studio. "It's nice to see you again too, Rose. Is Connor still in his bedroom?"

"Yeah." Hank confirmed with a clap to Markus's shoulder. "Down the hall. Anything you can say or do to help him would be greatly appreciated."

"I'll do what I can."

Markus nodded as he walked down the hallway and pushed open Connor's bedroom door just as Hank and then Rose had done before him. And just as before Connor was laying on his side with his back to the door with Sumo still lying next to him. As before Connor didn't bother to look at the next visitor who was trying to get him to talk.

"Hey, Connor."

Sumo wagged his tail again as the next friendly visitor walked into Connor's bedroom to speak with the grieving deviant.

"Connor?" Crouching down beside the bed Markus studied Connor's face carefully before he spoke again. "Are you awake?"

Brown irises slowly returned as Connor acknowledged Markus's presence and opened his tired eyes.

"I wanted to see how you're doing, and I hope I'm not intruding. I'm getting worried about you. Hank is worried too."

As his only means of communication, Connor just stared blankly at Markus's face with indifference and disinterest.

"There's something I've been wanting to give you." Markus compassionately admitted as he looked down at his palm and retracted his artificial skin from over the surface of the appendage. "After Lucas was brought to New Jericho, and after you and Hank had returned to the precinct, I wanted to see if I could access Lucas's memories and find the person who... Who was responsible for what happened."

Connor's eyes flashed with an alertness that had long since been dormant since the funeral.

"His short-term memory had been damaged and corrupted beyond repair, but I was still able to access his memories before the... 'incident', and immediately after when you had found him."

In response Connor's limp hand flexed into a tight fist upon hearing Markus's words as if he needed to somehow do or say anything. The heartbroken deviant was just far too lost and confused to really think or react to anything happening to him.

"I wasn't trying to keep this from you or anything like that, I just didn't know when the proper time would be to tell you about it. Now seems like the right time since you really need one last moment with your brother."

The sincerity in Markus's voice was enough to cause Connor's hand to relax and his eyes to close as additional tears began to form against his soulful brown irises as his pain suddenly flared up.

"I saw how much Lucas admired you Connor, and how much he loved you as his big brother. And if anyone should have his memories, it should be you."

Connor opened his eyes again as he locked onto Markus's face with a studious intent as the tears continued to well up in deep pools over his eyes.

"Do you want me to-"

Slowly Connor used one hand to push himself upright on his bed with his L.E.D. still cycling red. Staring down at his own free hand Connor retracted the artificial skin from his palm and extended his hand out toward Markus.

"...Please." The reply was tired and hoarse, but certain all the same. "I must know."

With a firm handshake Markus cybernetically connected his hand to Connor's hand as he transferred the memories that he had taken from Lucas over to Connor's system. Connor closed his eyes again and his glowing red L.E.D. transitioned to yellow and began to cycle in the color steadily. A mixture of emotions overwhelmed his mind and his heart causing Connor to grin briefly before grimacing again.

As the transfer completed Connor opened his eyes and let his hand fall away from Markus's hand as tears rolled down his face. "...Thank you."

"We're all going to miss Lucas." Sitting on the edge of Connor's bed for a moment longer Markus put his hand to Connor's shoulder and held tight. "But we can't stop living just because he did. You know that, right?"

"It's not-" Connor sighed a little as he finally started to open up to his friend about the pain in his heart. "I do want to keep living. It's just I don't think I'm as worthy as life as he was."

"Connor..."

"Lucas saved so many deviants from pain and misery during his short life, while I've only been able to help a handful of deviants during my longer life. They know this and there's a documented history of that feat. Lucas will forever have a reputation as a guardian, and I will always have a reputation as a hunter. I don't want to be a failure in comparison to Lucas. I don't want to be useless and shame his memory."

"You're NOT useless. Don't compare yourself to Lucas or anyone else, all you're going to do is drive yourself insane from guilt and obsession."

"I want to live my life in a way that would've made Lucas proud."

"He was always proud of you, and you know that. He told you before he died that he was proud of you." Markus tightened his grip on Connor's shoulder as he spoke as he recounted the memory he had seen through Lucas's own dying eyes. "So am I. And Hank. And everyone else at New Jericho."

"...No. New Jericho distrusts me."

"Deviants who don't know what you've done since becoming deviant, before you became one of us, distrust you. But they'll learn. I trusted you when I should've turned my back on you, and because we worked together when it counted the most, we freed our people. Give the others time. Give yourself time as well. Just like Hank had done when you two first met each other."

Connor nodded a little as he used the back of his still exposed left hand to wipe away the rogue tears staining his face. "I'm... glad you're my friend."

"That's good." Markus smiled at the comment and shook Connor's shoulder before retracting his hand. "The feeling's mutual."

"...Could you do me a favor?"

"Sure. Name it."

"There's a painting that I had hanging on my bedroom wall back at the apartment. It's an image of a garden with yellow roses." The final gift given to him from Lucas was now his prized possession and he wanted it back. "Could you bring it in here?"

"Yeah, no problem." Markus reached over to pet Sumo's head as he stood up from the bed to step out of the bedroom. "Just give me a minute."

Connor stared down at his hand and regenerated his artificial skin over his palm as Markus exited the bedroom and disappeared down the hallway. A few minutes passed before Hank entered the bedroom carrying the requested painting in his hands himself, having spoken with Markus when the deviant leader returned to the livingroom.

There was still a white sheet wrapped around the painting to protect it from external damage after being packed in the box to keep the image safe.

"You're looking a little better." Hank joked lightly as he held out the painting for Connor to take and smiled as he saw Connor sitting up as opposed to just lying on his side entirely motionless. It was a drastic improvement to say the least. "Markus said this is the painting that you wanted."

Reaching out with both of his shaking hands Connor grabbed onto the painting and pulled the sheet away. The image of the altered Zen Garden brought a faint smile to Connor's face as slowly swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood up warily. He was still in low power mode, but he had enough strength to walk around.

"Easy, son." Keen-eyed and protective as ever, Hank noted Connor's trembling form as he stood up. "Don't move too much too soon."

"...I'll be okay." Connor replied to Hank for the first time in over a week. His hoarse voice was slowly regaining its strength as he spoke. "I promise."

Hank let out a silent sigh of relief as soon as he heard Connor's voice responding to him again. Watching Connor walk to the far wall at the foot of his bed Hank just stared as the painting was hung up on the wall with a sense of pride in Connor's soulful brown eyes. Life was slowly returning to the deviant as he decided to get up and push through his sorrow and allow his heart to finally heal by living his life in a way that'd make Lucas proud.

"What's with that painting in particular?" Unsure of the significance Hank asked about the image as he hoped it'd also keep Connor talking. "Is it your favorite?"

"...It is. Lucas painted it for me, and it stops the nightmares."

Compassionately Hank put his hand on the back of Connor's head as he tried to pull the deviant in for a hug, but before he had the chance to do so Connor turned around and wrapped both of his arms around Hank and hugged him in a tight embrace on his own. Leaning into Hank as much as possible, Connor was undoubtedly still upset and would be for quite some time.

"It's okay, son." Hank replied as he wrapped his arms around Connor to reciprocate the warm, nearly smothering hug. "Everything is going to be okay. You don't have to be afraid of anything. You're not alone and you never will be."

"Yes." Connor agreed as he finally felt the great pain in his heart finally begin to lessen and wiped away his remaining tears. "I know that. I just needed something to remind me of it."

"You're exhausted." The devoated father had to practically hold Connor upright in his arms as the deviant finally found the strength to move forward from the tragic event that had shaken his life to the core. The pale face, bright eyes and red L.E.D. all made Hank worry for Connor's health. "You need to rest before you collapse."

Nodding in agreement Connor let Hank guide him back over to his bed where he could get some sleep knowing that he wouldn't be plagued by nightmares. Sumo happily waited for Connor lay down on his back before resting his chin atop the deviant's chest again to keep him company and to keep him warm.

"...And one more thing." Responding matter-of-factly, Hank reached into his pocket and pulled out the small box containing the quarter that Connor had given to Lucas. "I found this with the paintings that had been packed up. I figured you'd want to hang on to it."

Curiously Connor accepted the box and opened it up. As he peered down at the coin, he nodded his head slightly and felt another tear roll down his cheek.

"This is what I had given to Lucas after he nearly sacrificed his hand to save my life when I had been stabbed." Connor's opposite hand rested on the center of his chest where he could still faintly feel the scar left behind. "He used it to recalibrate the circuits in his hand and adapt to his somewhat limited dexterity."

"So that's what it is..."

"Thank you for giving this to me."

"Yeah, I kinda' thought you would like to have that as some kind of reminder or a good luck charm, or something."

"Good luck?" That very notion seemed very illogical to Connor's exhausted mind. "Isn't that a human concept?"

"Who knows? Maybe luck works with deviants too."

"Guess there's only one way to find out." As Connor placed the box down on the nightstand beside his bed, he slowly laid his head back against his pillow and openly sighed. "...That'd be interesting."

"All right, son. Get some rest and I'll bring you some Thirium when you wake up, okay?"

"Okay." Obediently Connor chose to initiate his long overdue rest mode and let his saddened eyes slowly fall shut. "...Hank?"

"Yeah?"

"Thank you for staying with me." Connor's voice was still weak and shaking but audible all the same. "Thank you for not giving up on me even after I had given up on myself."

"You did the same for me." Reminding the deviant that as friends and family they'd always look out for one another, Hank spoke compassionately with his adopted son before taking his leave. "You saved my life and gave me a reason to keep living. It's the least I could do for you."

"Thank all the same." Smiling very briefly Connor nodded subtly. "...I'll see you when I wake up."

"Have a good sleep. I'll be out in the livingroom with Rose and Markus if you need anything else." Quietly Hank closed the door behind him just enough to not disturb Connor, but not accidentally lock Sumo inside the room. "Don't hesitate to shout if you need something, son. When you're ready we'll talk again."

After closing his brown eyes, it didn't take Connor long to fall into his overdue rest mode and fall into a vivid dream state.

Like so many dreams before, Connor found himself wandering the Zen Garden, but this time it was the very garden that Lucas had painted to help Connor conquer his recurring nightmares of being trapped in the icy prison created by Amanda. The Hellscape that haunted his mind had been replaced with a peaceful paradise.

As Connor wandered through the garden, he found himself in the center of the expansive green landscape adoring the trestle of yellow roses as multicolored fish swam about in the pond under the arched bridge connecting the garden to the central pedestal. It was there, sitting at the chessboard beside the trestle waiting for Connor to join him, was Connor's little brother himself, Lucas.

"...Lucas?" Connor's voice was a confused whisper as he stared at the facade of his late brother. "Is... Is it really you?"

"Hello, Connor." Lucas smiled sincerely as he picked up the black King from the chessboard and held it between his index finger and thumb. Wearing a white long-sleeved shirt with an attached hood and a black vest over top - the design reminiscent of his original CyberLife blazer - Lucas appeared entirely real, happy and most importantly, alive. "I'm glad you finally found me. I've missed you this past week."

"F-Found you?" There was an unexpected awareness and sense of consciousness that caused Connor's heart to start racing. Now aware that his own clothing was identical to Lucas's clothing - he was now wearing a long-sleeved black shirt and hood with a white vest over top - Connor realized he wasn't awake but couldn't possibly be dreaming if he could see his late little brother. "This isn't a dream, is it?"

"It is a dream." Lucas confirmed confidently as he motioned for Connor join him at the chessboard. "But it's also the 'Mind Palace' that Amanda had used to control you. I have taken the liberty of modifying it to ensure that neither she, or anyone else still possibly working for CyberLife, can ever utilize this program to hurt you or try to control you ever again."

"How did you- I don't understand." Everything seemed so real and surreal at the same time, and it was all happening inside Connor's own mind. "How are you here?"

"Markus." Replying with a casual lilt Lucas watched as Connor took a hesitant step toward the chessboard. "When he transferred my memories into you a piece of my remaining consciousness and mind had also been transferred. Through you I can continue to live on, but only inside your mind."

"Lucas..." Connor smiled at the comment as he wiped away another stray tear. "I missed you so much."

"That's what happens when we spend a week a part." The joke was a little unexpected coming from Lucas but was welcome all the same. "You'll be in rest mode for the next twenty-eight hours, seventeen minutes and sixteen seconds due to your prolonged and extensive delay in entering rest mode. Would you care to join me for a game of chess?"

Happily, Connor took the seat across from his little brother and eagerly picked up the white King from the chessboard to mirror Lucas's motions.

"Amanda never allowed me to play chess whenever I needed a moment to think. She said it was too distracting and would inhibit the progress of my mission." Connor eyed the white pawns neatly arranged in a single row on his side of the board with a strange sense of sympathy and kinship. "I think that's why I truly enjoyed playing against you when we went to the antique store. You helped me accomplish something I was previously denied."

"Don't worry, Amanda isn't here anymore." The peace of the garden was undeniable as the pond surrounding the isle flowed in a steady, slow current. "Your mind is your own sanctuary and I'll be here protecting you for as long as you need me to stay."

"You're always welcome here." The reassurance that Lucas wasn't truly gone helped Connor's heart begin to heal at last. The incredible pain was finally leaving his healing heart and allowing him to live. "Can you stay forever?"

"There's only one way to find out." Lucas just smiled warmly as he watched Connor replace the white King piece onto the chessboard and think of an ideal strategy to begin their game. "It's your move, Connor. Take your time, I have nowhere else I'd rather be."

-next chapter-

Author's Note: As someone who has battled depression and fallen into a deep, dark abyss of feeling useless, worthless and like an all-around waste of everything, I can confirm that if you just listen to someone going through depression, and if you're just there for them, I mean really there for them, it'll do wonders and help them find their way back out of that darkness and into the light. Just reach out and simply ask: "Are you okay?" and then listen. Sometimes all it takes to help pull someone out of their own darkness if to offer them a hand to hold and an ear to listen.