It was another hectic investigation in Detroit. The two detectives began rushing through the ground floor lobby of an abandoned hospital in pursuit of a known member of the anti-android gang who had been attempting to start a new kind of Civil War in the heart of the city. The suspect had been anonymously creating chaos throughout Detroit for weeks and Connor and Hank were actively attempting to stop the dangerous armed man before he disappeared from the building and into one of his hidden safe houses strewn about the area once again. While Connor was able to easily weave through the massive piles of debris and abandoned equipment that littered the dirty, graffiti stained walls of the neglected building, Hank was trailing behind but still able to keep up fairly well with the chase at only a few steps behind the nimble deviant.

The entire hospital had been condemned and the walls were rotting as the floor eroded into gaping holes. The ceiling was caving in; starting from the roof and descending quickly down floor by floor until it had reached the second floor above the lobby. Exposed and inactive electrical wires hung down through holes in the ceiling in thick multicolored bundles. Large water pipes had penetrated through the walls and ceilings from age and gravity, and the large metal support beams that had kept the building standing for so many years were rusting, warped and beginning to buckle from decades of neglect and exposure to the elements.

Leaping over a dirty large counter that would've otherwise blocked his path, Connor was able to tackle the gang member to the ground and pin his arms behind his back. While Connor pressed his knee down in the center of the gang member's spine to hold him still, the caught man thrashed about from where he was laying on his chest and swore as he tried, and failed, to break free of Connor's strong grip.

"Stop resisting!" Connor ordered as he waited for Hank to join them in the filthy lobby to escort the dangerous man outside for proper transport. It'd be unwise to split up for any reason considering the condition of the building. "Detroit Police. You're under arrest. You have the right-"

"FUCK YOU! FUCKIN' PIECE OF PLASTIC!" The arrested man was nearly frothing at the mouth with rage. The fact that he had been caught and arrested by an android set him off like a time bomb. "I'LL KILL YOU! I'LL FUCKING KILL YOU!"

"Unlikely." Connor stated bluntly as Hank joined him and took the handcuffs from his belt. Kneeling down beside Connor with a heavy breath Hank slapped the cuffs on the man's wrists, and let Connor haul the arrested gang member back up to his feet. "As I stated earlier; you're under arrest."

"FUCK OFF! I slit your throat once before, and I'll do it again the moment I'm free!"

"Thank you for the confession." Having confirmation that the gang member who had attacked him a few weeks prior was now out of the hospital and still causing problems made Connor's work much easier. "I can now close that case on that previous assault and attempted murder."

"I'll fuck you up! You hear me?!" Turning his head the mouthy gang member tried in vain to intimidate Connor. "I'LL. FUCK. YOU. UP."

"Hey!" Hank grabbed the man's shoulder and pushed him forward toward the doors. "Shut up." Huffing a little Hank tried to catch his breath as he and Connor escorted the man outside the hospital. "I've heard that line enough times in my career. I'm sick of it."

Connor instinctively ran a biometric scan over Hank's body and noted that the senior detective's heart was racing and his blood pressure had elevated considerably due to the strenuous foot chase that he had just endured. Noting that Hank was stable despite his increased vital signs, Connor decided to not say anything about it until later after they returned to the precinct with their suspect in custody.

Still enraged about his arrest the gang member tried to break free from the cuffs and ended up flailing his arms about and kicking wildly and dangerously through the littered corridors of the hospital. During his futile attempts to break free, the arrested man's limbs bashed against the decaying walls causing massive fractures that snaked up to the ceiling and down to the floor with unsettling groans of destruction all around the trio.

"HEY!" Hank shouted again as he tried to restrain the gang member while the arrested man continued to thrash about as the trio neared the large front doors of the hospital. Bits of plaster and concrete began to rain down from the fractures above and cover the three occupants as they made their way to the front doors. "Knock it off! I'm not in the mood..."

"FUCKING PIGS!"

"This is your LAST CHANCE." Hank managed to silence the mouthy man surprisingly easily with his terse tone and fatherly discipline. "Knock it off or-"

In an instant Connor's L.E.D. flashed from blue to yellow as his scanner detected a massive instability within the overall structural integrity of the rotting hospital.

"We need to move, NOW." Sensing an imminent collapse due to man's dangerous impacts against the walls the deviant urged everyone to get outside before it was too late. "The building is coming down on top of us."

Hank looked around in confusion at Connor's warning only to hear the unnerving, thunderous snap of metal beams being smothered by tons of concrete that had been broken free as a result of the destabilized walls echo loudly all around him and even above him. The ominous groans caught the experienced Lieutenant off-guard and caused him to freeze where he stood.

"What the fu-"

"HANK!" Connor reacted without any hesitation to get his friend and father to safety. "Move!"

Pushing Hank out of the building entirely through the front doors of the hospital - the gang member refusing to budge any further despite the danger - Connor found himself unable to step out of danger himself as the entire building collapsed in a massive implosion around him and on top of him. Connor was rapidly buried beneath crushing concrete, suffocating drywall and massive portions of nearly immovable metal debris that smothered out any signs of life within a matter of catastrophic seconds.

In a graceless dive Hank landed on his chest just outside the broken glass doors of the hospital and instinctively put his hands over the back of his head and neck to protect himself as the decaying building came crashing down in a deafening heap all around him. Choking dust filled the air as it swirled around him in a powerful gust that covered his entire body in a thickening layer of plaster, dust, chunks of rotten drywall, wooden splinters and sheets of thin metal.

The earth trembled and the air thickened as the hospital disintegrated into a towering pile of dust in what felt like a single heartbeat.

Staying on the ground completely motionless until the sound and the violent shaking finally stopped Hank slowly uncovered his head and turned to look at the massive pile of debris behind him that was once an entire building. What had been a quaking landscape was now a hauntingly still and silent expanse of rubble that seemed to bear absolutely no sign of motion.

"...Connor?"

Hank called out in a low whisper only to be stopped by a passing, choking fit. Clearing his throat Hank peered through the smokey cloud swirling around the destroyed building and felt his heart sink at the catastrophic sight before him.

"C-Connor?!"

Scrambling to his feet Hank rushed back to the pile of concrete slabs covered in dust that had once been a hospital and began to climb through it as he pulled his radio from his coat pocket and called for help at the scene of the collapsed hospital. As he pushed his way through the jagged pile of metal and drywall in search of his missing partner, Hank found a stain of fresh red blood and froze in his tracks.

"Oh, fuck..."

There was a rapidly growing pool of dark red blood under the large piece of debris and nothing more. It didn't take the man long to figure out what he was staring at, or to be more specific, who he was looking at.

"Shit, shit, shit..."

Knowing what he was he was about to uncover Hank took in a deep breath and prepared for the worst. The senior detective knelt down beside a massive slab of concrete that had to weigh easily a solid ton in an attempt to move. The slab was nearly flat on the ground as it had evidently crushed something beneath itself as it came crashing down during the building's collapse. There was about a two-inch wide gap between the slab and the ground as whatever it was beneath had enough bulk to resist the full weight to some extent before being crushed. Peering under the thick, crushing slab Hank turned his head away with a foul grimace on his face as his suspicions were confirmed.

"Fuck... Found one of 'em."

The gang member had been crushed to death by the overwhelming weight of the concrete slab. Part of his skull had been caved in from the impact and the pool of blood collecting under his body was all that escaped the smothering weight. Even if the slab could've been moved aside, it was far too late to do anything for the man.

The enraged, hate-filled gang member was dead.

"Damn it. What a way to go."

Forcing himself to continue searching through the dangerous debris of the fallen building, Hank stood up, dusted off his hands and continued to climb through the debris. As he moved about very carefully Hank tried calling out for Connor again in hopes that the missing deviant could hear him and could respond.

"Connor?! Talk to me!"

There was a weak cough from a few feet away from where Hank was standing, and it was the only sound in the entire area beyond Hank's own huffing, adrenaline charged breaths. Turning to look toward the sound of the coughing Hank felt his heart sink at the sight of a humanoid body covered under a gray layer of concrete and drywall dust slumped chest first over a massive portion of what was once a concrete support column. A blinking red colored L.E.D. all but confirmed the person's identity as that of the missing deviant detective.

A second layer of debris resting over top of Connor's upper body had helped conceal his location as Hank searched through the ruins of the former hospital. The fact that Connor was conscious at all was almost miraculous and the deviant being able to speak loud enough to be heard was more than Hank could've hoped for.

"Hold on, kid. I'm coming to you!"

"...H-Hank?" Connor tried to lift his head up, but he was in too much pain and already too weak to make the effort. Instead, he let his head lay against the cold concrete surface beneath himself as he watched Hank awkwardly running over to where he was laying through his blurry, dust filled eyes. "...I'm-" Coughing again Connor wheezed and struggled to catch his breath. "...H-Hank, I-"

"Shh, shh, shh... It's okay, I'm here, son. I'm right here." Hank stood next to Connor and slipped his hand under Connor's chilly cheek and his chin to gently lift his head up from the cold concrete so he could look the deviant in the eyes. "It's okay, I'm going to get you out of here."

Connor forced himself to focus on Hank as he dismissed the numerous red warnings in his visual processors. Blue blood was dripping from his mouth and his nose as he tried to remain conscious for the senior detective. A thick blue paste from the lose Thirium mixing with the dust clung to Connor's chin and collected like a purple mush all over the surface of the dusty, bloody slab he been slumped over.

"...Hank." Pausing for a moment Connor let out a deep breath before he tried to speak again, his entire body shuddering from the cold and the pain he was currently enduring. "I'm... I'm trapped."

"That's why I'm going to help you, okay?" Gently Hank used his thumb to wipe away some of the blood from Connor's lip and chin as he spoke to the damaged deviant in a calm voice. "I already radioed for help, they know we're out here and are on their way."

"...Are you... h-hurt?"

"No, I'm fine." The senior detective answered quickly as he gently let Connor's head rest down against the concrete barricade once more. "Stay still. I'm going to check you over for injuries." Carefully he ran his hands down Connor's arms first and noticed that Connor's right forearm was badly broken, as were several fingers in his right hand. Moving up to the deviant's shoulders Hank moved around the concrete barricade to reach down Connor's legs and then up to his back to check for additional damage either external or internal. "I'll get you out of here soon. You don't look too rough."

"...H-Hank." Connor swallowed once as he tried to keep his voice from sounding frightened or strained. "I c-can't be... moved."

"What?" Hank's hands froze as he began pushing against a secondary massive slab of fallen drywall away from Connor's upper body and shoulders to get a better look at the rest of Connor's wounds. "Why not? What's going on?"

"I'm... damaged."

Walking back around to look Connor in the face, his hand lifting Connor's head back up to cradle the deviant's face in his palm, Hank dared to ask the uncomfortable question that needed to be asked.

"How bad is the damage?"

"...My back. I've been... impaled." Connor's breath suddenly hitched in his broken, compressed chest as he spoke weakly. "...Numerous Thirium lines have been s-severed." Struggling to take in a deep enough breath to keep talking, Connor's red L.E.D. pulsed more rapidly in tandem with his beating heart. "R-Right ventilation biocomponent failing. F-Foreign matter...in my-" Barely able to keep speaking Connor could only hoarsely utter one final word to Hank before he lost his breath entirely. "...Impalement."

"Impaled?" Looking at the massive slab of drywall that he still needed to move aside Hank suddenly felt very uneasy about the whole ordeal. He needed to see the injury and overall damage himself even if it was something he didn't actually want to see. "...Okay. I'm going to take a look, all right? I just want to see how bad it is, but I won't touch anything."

Connor nodded a little as Hank gently let his head go once more before resuming the laborious task of pushing away the surrounding debris.

Putting all of his strength into his shoulder Hank managed to push aside the drywall and concrete only to reveal a jagged, twelve-foot-long metal rebar rod crudely jutting through Connor's back at a disturbing angle. The rod had entered Connor's body just below his right shoulder and had entered at a forty-five degree angle, only to exit through the lower right portion of Connor's abdomen. The protruding end was sticking out of Connor's back by about four inches, while the opposite end of the rod had been deeply embedded into a second concrete support column buried beneath the first column and was completely inaccessible from where Hank stood.

"Oh, fuck..."

Massive stains of dark blue Thirium saturated Connor's gray blazer and white dress shirt beneath right around the two devastating penetrating wounds to his back, through his torso and out the front of his abdomen. As the Thirium seeped around the two stab wounds in Connor's body it collected as a blossoming puddle of sapphire below the deviant's trapped body and over the surface of the concrete slab that Connor was slumped against.

"Connor, no." Hank felt sick to his stomach but he didn't dare leave his son alone for even a second. Walking back around the concrete slab Hank put his hand under Connor's face once again and kept his palm there to offer some form of comfort and support. "You're going to be okay; do you hear me?"

"...Yes." Blinking sluggishly Connor forced himself to speak and acknowledge Hank's words. "I can hear you."

"Just hold on for me, okay? Stay awake."

"I'll t-try."

Connor's voice was starting to sound mechanical from the mounting strain against even his most basic programs and functions as he continued to bleed heavily both internally and externally. He took in a gasping, shuddering breath as it became increasingly difficult to breathe through the mortifying damage to his chest and abdomen, but he wouldn't shut off his ventilation program unless it became absolutely necessary.

"I'll... try, Hank."

"That's all I ask."

Blaring sirens and flashing red and blue lights from the approaching fire engines, an ambulance and two other squad cars raced to the scene of the catastrophic collapse suddenly filled the smoky air. While the approaching help would usually fill Hank with a sense of relief or security, in that moment where he watched Connor straining to breathe as more precious Thirium oozed from his mouth in a steady stream, nothing would be able to ease his mind.

"Try to focus on your breathing." Hank urged in soothing voice as he stayed beside Connor. There was nothing else he could do for his wounded partner, best friend and son beyond being a comforting sound to listen to. "Nice and slow. Keep as still as you can."

"...H-Hurts."

"I know." Needing to be a rock to lean against Hank forced back an emotional break in his own voice at the pathetic tone of Connor's pained remark. "I know it hurts, but you have to keep breathing. Don't let your core overheat, and don't you dare fall asleep. I need you to stay awake for me for as long as possible. At least until you're out of his place and in the back of the ambulance."

Through the massive pile of dangerous debris that surrounded, if not entombed the two detectives, three flashlight beams cut through the darkness of the dusty, enshrouded area and a familiar voice called out to the two detectives from the distance.

"Hey! Can anyone hear me?"

It was Gavin.

"Lieutenant? 'Tinman'?" Gavin shouted as he stumbled over the staggering debris toward the two standing beings amongst the fallen ruins of the hospital. Tina was following behind him but keeping quiet as she had never responded to a collapsed building before and was a little overwhelmed by the display of ruins and carnage that had once been a comforting hospital. "Can you hear me?"

Hank never raised his voice above his normal tone, but he did answer in the affirmative. "We're here."

One of the beams of light fell directly upon the duo and illuminated against the dark fabric of Hank's coat. "Lieutenant!"

"Yeah, right here."

Gavin clumsily trudged over the littered ground to where Hank was standing alongside Connor who was still trapped and bleeding to death. As he neared the two detectives, he took in the horrific sight of Connor covered in his own blood as a massive, jagged metal rod penetrating through his back.

"Holy shit..."

Tina was trailing after her partner and saw the rod stabbed through Connor's body and backed away to keep herself from getting sick at the unnerving sight. She had always been someone to see androids as people long before the Revolution and so blue blood could be just as alarming as red when a fellow officer was injured in her eyes.

"Oh, shit... Lieutenant, what happened?"

"Connor's trapped." Hank stated firmly as he kept his eyes on Connor's own glassy irises slowly blinking eyes with utter pain. "We can't move him until the metal rod is cut away."

"What about you?" Gavin stepped closer and used the flashlight to look at Hank's face. "Are you hurt?"

"No. Just tell the firefighters where to find us and tell them to bring all their tools."

"Okay, I'll be right back." Quickly and discreetly, Gavin gave Connor's arm a light pat before he retreated to the entrance of the hospital. "Hold on. Tina, stay here so we can use your light to find them easier in all this mess. Hang in there, 'Tinman'."

Connor took in another shuddering breath that shook his entire body and caused a pale blue tinted foam to drip down his lips as the damage to his ventilation biocomponent began to cause lost blood to trickle up and out of his main air intake line. The internal damage was significant and would need a proper technician's care in order to recover.

"It's okay." Hank just repeated as he tried to keep his own voice steady while he watched Connor warily. "You're going to be okay, son."

True to his word Gavin showed the group of firefighters over to where Connor had been impaled and set about examining the deviant's condition, as well as the position of the rod that had been penetrated through his body. It would be a delicate form of extraction in order to free the trapped deviant, but it was entirely doable.

While Connor didn't react to the firefighters now checking him over, the deviant did manage to give Hank a weak but sincere grin to try to lighten the incredibly heavy mood.

"I think Gavin is st-starting to come around."

"Yeah?" Hank laughed a little as he ran his other hand through the dust that had collected in Connor's hair. "Don't say that until AFTER you're out of here. You don't want to jinx it or some shit."

"Okay..." One of the firefighters addressed Hank calmly as he assessed Connor's condition. "We can get him out of here, but the rod is going to need to be cut away in order to do it."

"That's what I figured." Remaining cool as ever Hank spoke to the firefighter fearlessly. "How long will that take?"

"About ten minutes. One of our paramedics is also a technician and can keep track of his vitals while we get him free."

"Okay, yeah. Let's get it started."

"Was there anyone else in the building with you?"

"Uh, yeah." Slowly Hank pointed to the massive concrete slab that concealed the bloodied body of the dead gang member beneath. "Our suspect. He's D.O.A. and the poor bastard didn't have a chance."

"Shit..." The firefighter swore as he motioned for assistance at the slab of concrete. As he knelt down he reached an ungloved hand under the slab and pressed it to the man's cold, crushed neck and confirmed the lack of pulse and already icy cold skin. "Gotta' body over here! We'll need some heavy power over here to get to it."

"B-Body." Connor's eyes managed to open a little wider upon hearing the firefighter's voice. "...Hank?"

"The idiot brought down the building on us, remember?" The senior detective reminded Connor without any shame in his words. "We're not responsible for his death, it was an accident that he caused which makes him responsible for his own fate."

Still feeling a little guilty for the man's fate Connor nodded weakly against Hank's hand as his eyes began to shut slowly. "I need to... rest."

"No! Stay awake!"

"...I'm tr-trying." Opening his eyes into partial slits Connor tried to focus on Hank's face again, but he was already so weak. "...I'm trying right now."

"Try harder, damn it." Desperate and not angry with the deviant's reaction, Hank softened his tone immediately. "Don't pass out on me. After you're in the ambulance you can sleep for as long as you want."

"Okay. I'm... I'm awake."

The responding technician was escorted through the ruins by one of the other firefighters at the scene as the same firefighter carried in a powerful saw to cut through the metal rod that had impaled Connor's body. The technician was familiar to Connor and carrying equipment over his shoulder in an emergency satchel as well as equipment in his hands to monitor Connor's vital signs. The deviant remained trapped and bleeding within the ruins of the hospital and needed treatment as soon as possible.

"My name is Johnny. Oh, it's you again." The technician needlessly introduced himself as he sat the Thirial activity cardiac monitor down on top of the wide concrete beam that Connor was slumped over. Turning on the monitor John gave Connor's external injuries a visual assessment and did his best to keep the wounded deviant talking. "I'm going to take care of you. Can you recall your name?"

Connor took in another shuddering breath before he answered in a shaking whisper. "...C-Connor."

"Connor." Repeating the name to acknowledge his patient Johnny's memory status proceeded to give Connor a basic examination. "Okay. What's your current Thirium level?"

Despite his fatigue Connor's red L.E.D. blinked rapidly before cycling back to a slow pulse as he provided the answer. "...Sixty-seven percent."

"I'm going to start a Thirium line to start to replenish what you've lost." Dropping his satchel from over his shoulder onto the beam Johnny opened the side pocket and pulled out a pair of sharp scissors. "I need to get to your arm, so I have to cut your sleeve open."

Understanding what was required to treat his condition Connor just nodded again and didn't move or speak. Knowing that was on Connor's mind Hank answered on the tired deviant's behalf.

"Go ahead, he's ready."

Johnny carefully pressed the tip of the sharp scissors into the gray fabric of Connor's right blazer sleeve over the deviant's wrist and cut forward in a straight line all the way up to Connor's shoulder. Repeating the motion for the white dress shirt beneath, Johnny cut away both sleeves up to the shoulder. Carefully Johnny turned over Connor's broken right forearm so that the limb was resting palm upward, and then pressed his fingertips down against the interior bend of Connor's elbow as he pressed his other fingertips to Connor's L.E.D. to manually deactivate the artificial skin.

One of the firefighters proceeded to drape a protective flame-retardant blanket over Connor's head, shoulders and back around the metal jagged rod jutting out of his body just as a second firefighter powered up the sharp saw to cut through the rod keeping Connor pinned in place. While the technician did his work the two firefighters focused on their own task just a few steps away.

"Connor," Hank eyed the saw warily but didn't let any fear show in his gaze. "they're going to start cutting through the rod. It's going to get really loud and you're going to feel pressure on that metal rod in your chest, but you'll be fine. Don't move."

"...I w-won't move." The deviant confirmed in a low voice as fatigue and Thirium loss sapped him of his energy. "...I won't."

With Connor's unspoken cooperation Johnny opened the small plastimetal panel in the bend Connor's right arm, careful of the surely painful break in the limb, and inserted a secondary external line into the Thirium line running through the deviant's elbow.

"Okay, the line's in place." Squeezing the attached pouch of Thirium twice the needed blue blood began to flow down the plastic tube and into the line in Connor's arm to help boost his volume. "That'll help you feel better soon."

"...Thank you."

"I'm also going to attach a couple sensors to your body so I can monitor you more closely."

Johnny stated with a level tone as he wrapped a Thirium pressure cuff around Connor's left bicep after cutting away the second sleeves as well. He then let the wrap automatically tighten around Connor's arm to give him a reading. Turning on the monitor Johnny took the two wireless sensor leads to the monitor, removed Connor's black tie and pulled open the buttons on Connor's white shirt to get to his chest. He then placed the sensors directly over the deviant's beating Thirium pump without jostling him too much.

"How do you feel?"

"...Weak. I-I can't breathe... very well." Connor admitted with a passing whisper as Hank continued to support his head up from the cold concrete slab that he had been impaled against. It was a small gesture, but it was enough help Connor remain calm. "...It h-hurts."

"Okay, I'll do what I can to help." Johnny watched as the two firefighters revved up the saw and worked together to cut through the jagged metal rod. Pulling the audioscope from the satchel Johnny draped the device around his neck casually and nodded to the two firefighters. "It'll be a few more minutes then we'll get you out of here. You have an excellent chance of survival without any permanent damage, so don't lose hope."

One firefighter held onto the metal rod in a firm grip while the other began to cut through the metal just below Connor's abdomen sending orange sparks in all directions around the deviant. The fire resistant blanket helped protect the wounded deviant from the hot sparks, but the violent tremors from the rod caused his body to shake a little and made his breathing feel like he was on the verge of a violent coughing fit.

Hank ignored the horrific sound of screeching metal as he kept his eye on Connor's blank, yet scared face as he refused to move his hand away. In order to distract himself Connor looked past Hank and watched as the other firefighters gathered around the massive slab of concrete that had crushed the arrested gang member to death and watched as they worked together to heft the lethally heavy slab aside just enough to expose the man's bloodied, mangled body beneath.

As soon as Hank saw the gleam of guilt in Connor's eyes he put himself between the deviant's line of sight and the dead body just a few feet away.

"Hey!" Hank shouted over the saw to regain Connor's focus on his own face. "Look at me. NOT him."

Connor's brown irises slowly trailed away from the carnage of the dead body and locked onto Hank's face as requested.

"There. Just look at me, nothing else."

"We need to wait a second on this end!" One of the firefighters shouted as they noted the rod was heating up fast. "We can't risk burning him."

Taking advantage of the returned quiet and larger workspace Johnny moved around to Connor's back as the firefighters moved the blanket away and pressed the bell of his audioscope to Connor's back to listen to his struggling ventilation courtesy of the penetrating metal debris.

"You're not moving any air on the right side." Johnny confirmed as he moved the bell of the audioscope back and forth across Connor's back. "Left side sounds good though."

"...I'm c-cold." The bleeding deviant admitted in a shaking voice. His body was starting to shiver in response to his Thirium loss and from being pressed against the icy cold concrete slab for so long. "...Very cold."

"We'll get you warmed up in a minute." The professional technician stated without missing a beat. "It's being caused by your exposure to the cold concrete and the heavy blood loss. That's easy to fix."

Hank watched as the two firefighters continued to work in perfect synchronization to wrap the fire-retardant blanket around Connor's abdomen as one held on to the penetrating metal rod and the other revved up the saw to cut through the metal again. Daring to glance back over his shoulder Hank saw that the body of the dead gang member had been covered by a white sheet by one of the firefighters, while Gavin returned to the ruins with two additional firefighters and a supportive backboard in their hands.

"That guy is toast. The dumb asshole never had a chance." Gavin stated quietly as he stood just behind Hank. Tina had regained her composure and was now actively aiding at the scene of the accident without hesitation beyond just holding her flashlight. "How's your partner doing?"

"He's holding on." The sound of Hank's voice was somber as he continued to support Connor's head under his palm. "Just cold. How's Tina?"

"Still not a fan of seeing her fellow officers hurt. I can relate."

Showing an uncharacteristically empathetic nature toward the deviant, Gavin slipped off his own leather jacket and draped it around Connor's shoulders to try to keep him a little warmer until he could finally be freed of the dangerous hospital ruins. Stepping aside to give the firefighters more room to work Gavin watched silently as the saw roared to life and began to cut through the rod creating a second shower of orange colored sparks that flew out in all directions around the damaged deviant and the two firefighters.

An audible 'snap' echoed through the ruins as the saw powered down and a lengthy portion of the metal rod that had impaled Connor had finally been cut away successfully. The long portion of the rod was tossed aside dismissively as the firefighters changed positions to cut away a small chunk at the other end of the rod that had completely stabbed through Connor's body and exited through his back.

Connor let out a shuddering breath as the rod 'snapped' and he felt a pressure lessen in his chest. As his legs began to buckle beneath him both John and Gavin grabbed on to his arms to support him while the surrounding firefighters moved the backboard around and helped guide the freed deviant down against the supportive surface to lay on his side to keep pressure off his damage.

"Easy, Connor." Hank urged as Connor was gently placed down on the backboard on his left side for transport. "They got you. You're free."

Johnny grabbed onto the monitor and the Thirium pouch while the firefighters wrapped the security straps around Connor's upper body and legs carefully. Gavin replaced his jacket over the deviant's bloody body before he and Tina helped the firefighters lift the backboard up from the littered ground to carry. Hank joined the group gathered around the backboard and took hold as well to support his critically damaged partner and carry him to safety outside of the rubble.

"Almost there." The senior detective and father soothed as Connor neared the ambulance. "Just a few more feet and you'll be out of here."

Connor didn't reply as his eyes drifted shut and his body relaxed on the backboard. Hank rested his hand against Connor's shoulder briefly before he returned his grip to the side of the backboard to ensure he was at steady as possible.

Walking slowly through and around the debris that littered the ground of the collapsed hospital, the small team of first responders carried the downed deviant to safety and got him away from the concrete ruins. It wasn't difficult to carry the surprisingly lightweight deviant around, but it was proving to be a challenge in keeping him from getting jostled too much while a fair portion of the metal was still wedged in his chest through his abdomen.

Once the backboard was placed atop of a waiting gurney the firefighters returned their attention to the collapsed hospital to ensure there were no smoldering flames under the debris, any possibly leaking gas lines, sparking electrical wires or dripping pipes that could be an environmental hazard. One could never be too wary of a potential second explosion rocking the area causing further problems.

While Johnny checked Connor's vital signs for any sign of instability; checking the monitor and using the audioscope to listen to his chest, Gavin stood at Hank's side while the senior detective looked down at the unconscious deviant warily to ask about the call in general.

"How'd this happen, Lieutenant?"

"The suspect ran through the building, and we pursued him. After the suspect was caught and cuffed, he started smashing his arms and legs against the walls and ended up bringing the whole fuckin' building down on top of us." Hank shook his head and sighed solemnly as he told Gavin about what had happened to cause the hospital to collapse. "Connor saved my life. He pushed me out the doors before all Hell broke loose, and I just got a couple bruises and scratches in the end."

Johnny led the group to the special human/android hybrid ambulance and motioned for the gurney to be loaded up and into the back for transport. "He'll need repairs, but he'll live. Once he's at the Zeta Facility he'll be just fine."

"Come on." Gavin lightly nudged Hank's arm to get the Lieutenant's attention without making him jump. "I'll drive you to the hospital so you can get checked out."

"Fuck that, I'm fine."

"Either go now or wait until Fowler bitches at you. It's your choice."

"Fine." Hank pulled his car keys from his pocket and handed them to Gavin since he knew that ultimately Gavin was right. "We'll take my car."

"That piece of shit actually runs?"

"Runs better than half of the autonomous cars in this whole city." Leaning forward Hank grabbed Connor's shoulder and shook lightly as the deviant was loaded into the back of the ambulance. "I'll meet you at the facility, son. You'll be okay."

"...Yeah." Connor managed to wheeze as Johnny slipped an oxygen mask over his nose and mouth. His eyes drifted shut and he fell unconscious. "See you soon."

As the ambulance doors shut with a hearty slam Hank's shoulders slumped and he rubbed his hand over his forehead tiredly. Watching as the ambulance drove away from the scene of the ruined hospital the senior detective felt his body finally beginning to shake from adrenaline and fear. Glancing down at his right hand covered in dust and Connor's blood Hank clenched his hand into a tight fist and slipped it into the pocket of his coat out of sight.

"Tina, stay here and report back to the precinct." Hank ordered as a means of distracting his mind while maintaining control of the scene. "Let them know the suspect was D.O.A. and that he had already an impressive track record against deviants. He's also the fucker who slit Connor's throat then snuck out of the hospital after he ended up admitted a few hours after that assault."

"Will do, Lieutenant."

"Let's go, Reed." Focusing on the other detective for a moment, Hank began walking toward the Oldsmobile to head out to the facility. "I want to meet Connor at the facility before he wakes up."


Checking in and out of the nearest hospital's E.R. as quickly as he could, Hank made his way over to the facility to check in on his downed partner and son. True to his word about meeting Connor at the Zeta Facility, Hank stood beside the exam table where Connor was still lying unconscious with a massive hole in his abdomen and waited for him to wake up. The technicians at the facility were working diligently to repair the internal damage that Connor had suffered as a result of the building's collapse and subsequent impalement. Aside from the damaged right side ventilation biocomponent needing imminent repair in his chest, Connor's right arm was placed in a stabilizing splint around his broken forearm and fingers to allow his self-healing program to easily repair the damaged limb.

The oxygen mask had remained in place over Connor's face to help his one remaining functional ventilation biocomponent compensate until the second vent could be repaired. A pale stain of blue still marred Connor's lips from the Thirium he had coughed up, but he was no longer bleeding internally and no additional Thirium dripped from his mouth or his nose as he breathed.

"It shouldn't be too much longer." Johnny stated confidently as he returned to the exam room to check on Connor's vitals before he left the facility to report back to his station. "Once the lead technician finishes up on her current patient she'll see to Connor."

"I guess in a twisted way that's a good sign." Hank remarked as he put his hand on Connor's shoulder and kept it in place. "It means Connor isn't as critical as he looks."

"Exactly. He's stable, just weak." Johnny agreed as he packed up his satchel and slung it over his own shoulder to take his leave. "Once the damaged biocomponent has been repaired and his Thirium level restored, he can return home to recover on his own."

"That's good."

"You should wait outside." The E.F.T. cautioned as he gave Hank a sympathetic glance. "It'll be a pretty invasive procedure and you don't want to see it."

"Yeah. Can't argue with that..." Patting his hand on Connor's shoulder one last time Hank begrudgingly took his leave of the room. "I'll be outside, son. I'll see you again when you wake up and can head for home."


Whether it was a hospital or a facility's waiting room the space always felt, sounded, and even smelled the same; cold, quiet, sterile and isolated. Fussing with his untouched, now cold cup of black coffee between his hands, Hank patiently waited for an update on Connor's critical condition. A few deviants had passed through the waiting room to handle their own needs - each with an odd injury or software malfunction of their own - but not one of them looked nearly as rough as Connor had looked upon his most recent admission to the facility. Even though Hank knew that Connor wasn't in danger of shutting down he couldn't help but worry for his adopted son's life.

A gentle hand rested on Hank's shoulder drawing his gaze up from the opaque surface of the chilled coffee and to the face the deviant receptionist, Barry. The deviant was one of the 'Jerry' models who had been left abandoned at the now defunct 'Pirate's Cove' amusement park.

"Huh? Yeah?"

"Excuse me," Barry replied in a sweet voice as he studied Hank's face curiously. "are you here to see Connor?"

"Yeah, how is he?"

"The repair was a success and he's resting." Barry, confirmed as he made a cybernetic note to keep Hank on the very short list of non-facility personnel who could wander the premises without needing security supervision. "Dr. Grayson would like to see you."

"Yeah, yeah." Standing up quickly Hank sighed with a breath of relief escaping his lips. "Thanks."

The senior detective threw away his untouched coffee before he began walking back to the recovery room with a hasty gait. The facility was small in comparison to a hospital but was still the largest active facility in Detroit. It didn't take long for him to be escorted down the nearby corridor, enter the elevator and locate Connor resting in a private recovery room on the second floor. Everything was quiet and still in a way that was as hopeful as it was refreshing.

Taking a deep breath Hank peered at Connor through the window of the recovery room where his adopted son was resting. Instantly Hank's eyes fell on Connor who was laying on his back in a pale blue hospital gown with his eyes half opened and his L.E.D. cycling a steady yellow color in his right temple. The oxygen mask had been taken away and replaced with a nasal canula as his ventilation biocomponents were now functioning well enough that he could breathe on his own. That alone was a great sign.

The large wound in Connor's abdomen had been completely repaired; his artificial skin already covering the sight of the wound without any trace of a scar unlike the older stab wound to his middle chest but still had support bandages over the wound sights to ensure his system's self-healing program could work without any foreign matter entering his still healing artificial skin. Connor's right arm was wrapped in a plastimetal support brace, but seemed fine as well as it rested lightly over his repaired abdomen. The sling supporting the limb had been positioned in such a way that it was wrapped around his uninjured left shoulder to allow his right shoulder to heal without being strained by the weight of his broken arm.

"Hey, son." Hank greeted warmly as he walked into the recovery room and tossed aside his coffee. "Nice to see you awake again."

Connor's head turned slightly as he acknowledged the sound of Hank's voice. "Hi, Hank."

"How do you feel?"

"...Skewered."

"Seems about right." Smiling at the comical retort Hank acknowledged the technician who had saved Connor's life as the familiar human stood on the opposite side of the table from Hank as she checked on Connor's recovery process. "Thanks for everything, Abby."

"You're welcome." The kindhearted and skilled technician responded with a sincere smile on her face. "As usual, Connor tolerated the repair process very well."

Checking Connor's vital signs on the monitor and seeing the alertness in Connor's eyes only strengthened her conviction on the matter.

"He'll need some time to rest so his self-healing program can recalibrate his damaged left vent biocomponent, but he can be cleared for active duty by this time tomorrow. Desk duty only."

Connor slowly sat upright on the exam table, wincing in mild pain as his core bent slightly, with Hank's hand pushing against his shoulder to help him move.

"Whoa, easy. You're still healing." Hank saw the pained reaction and asked about Connor's other injuries. "How's his arm?"

"It's already regained eighty percent functionality." Abby confirmed as she jotted down details in Connor's electronic chart. "No complications are expected."

"Man, that's a relief." Hank kept his hand on Connor's shoulder Hank and studied the deviant's face curiously. "Are you ready to leave?"

"Yes." The repaired deviant confirmed eagerly as he pulled the canula away from his face and let Abby remove the Thirial activity leads from his chest. One of the few perks to being a deviant was the ability to heal far quicker than average organic lifeforms. "I'd prefer to recover in the comfort of my own bed rather than inside of a facility."

"Yeah, I don't blame ya'." Relieved to see the same Connor responding in his usual manner Hank felt like everything was finally going to be just fine. "Let's get you home and get you cleaned up. It's been a long and weird day."

"Agreed."

"I'll try to keep Sumo from crushing ya' too." The senior detective joked as he shrugged off his dark coat and wrapped it around Connor's shoulders to ensure his healing son was kept warm before they stepped back out into the brisk autumn air. "You know how the big oaf thinks he's still a small pup despite being big enough to have a saddle strapped to his back!"


The drive home was calm and uneventful for the two detectives as Connor did his best to not move too much while his body continued to heal. Laying over the car's backseats on his back, Connor kept his arms draped over his chest as he stared up at the ceiling of the car and let his self-healing program mend the residual damage that a technician's hands simply couldn't reach. Thanks to Abby's skill and dedication Connor was going to recover quickly and with minimal discomfort, and thanks to Connor's fast reflexes Hank only had a few scrapes and bruises that the E.R. dismissed as superficial after he checked in at the hospital to avoid being reprimanded by Captain Fowler.

The moment the car slowed down to turn into the driveway the duo let out collective sighs of relief. Seeing the house after escaping the collapsed ruins of the hospital was a tremendous moment of comfort.

"You shower off." Hank urged as he pulled the car in the driveway beside the house. "And I'll call Fowler to let him know you are going to work tomorrow, but you'll be behind your desk the entire shift."

"Thank you."

"Yeah, well, don't thank me yet." Turning off the engine Hank opened his door and gave the deviant a sly glance as he pulled his seat forward to gain access to the backseats. "Let's see how well you handle sitting at your desk all damn day while you heal."

After returning home the recovering deviant let Hank guide him to the front door so he could remove his destroyed, dirty clothes and readily showered off the remnants of the collapsed hospital that still clung to his skin and hair. The smell of the crushed concrete and rusted metal still clung to his artificial skin and wafted in the steamy air all around him. Every time he closed his eyes Connor saw himself trapped and bleeding in the ruined building making it almost impossible to rest properly.

What was worse was seeing the mangled body of the dead gang member who had been crushed to death whenever he blinked. Connor had only caught a glimpse of the man's destroyed skull and his body soaked in the wet, red blood, but that glimpse was long enough to create a horrific memory that refused to go away.

As he stepped out of the shower Connor pressed his hand over his still healing abdomen as if he still expected to feel or even see the metal rod jutting out of his body, but there was no sign he had ever been damaged. Sometimes the android healing factor could prove itself to be a formidable emotional contradiction against the physical sensation that still yet lingered. The only sign of previous injury seemed to be from the stab wound to his heart nearly a year ago. Why that particular wound had left behind a scar was something Connor couldn't explain.

Running a towel over his damp hair somewhat awkwardly with one hand Connor changed into clean clothing; a black t-shirt and gray sweatpants, to try to get some rest. Fussing with one final layer of gauze bandages around his abdomen and shoulder the deviant managed to clumsily secure the sling around his left shoulder before he returned his broken arm to the canvas support.

Tired and ready to sleep, Connor stepped out of the bathroom and was promptly met by Hank at the end of the hallway.

"I'm sorry," the stern and worried look Hank's eyes made Connor pause mid step as he addressed his friend and father. "were you waiting long?"

"You okay?" Hank asked with a sincere lilt in his voice as he looked the deviant over curiously. Despite being cleared by Abby at the facility Connor's L.E.D. was still yellow which was either indicative of distress or his advanced programming kicking on, and Connor had no reason to switch on any advanced programming for the remainder of that night. "You were in there for almost two hours."

"I... was?" The lapse in time was a total shock to the deviant. "I apologize. I had apparently lost track of time."

"And you NEVER lose track of time unless something's wrong. What's up?"

Taking a deep breath Connor draped the damp towel over his left shoulder as he walked slowly past Hank and into the livingroom. "...I keep seeing the man's face."

"Connor, there was nothing you could've done to save him."

"But he shouldn't have died that way."

"That doesn't mean you should feel bad." Hank reminded the deviant as he followed after Connor and into the livingroom. "His crimes led him to the chase through the building that ended up crushing him, he caused the building to collapse, and he wouldn't cooperate with you so he could be led to safety. He didn't have a chance because he stood in his own way."

"Are you blaming him for his own death?"

"In a way, yeah."

"Hank..." Connor looked a little offended by Hank's response. His soulful brown eyes flashed with upset and confusion as he ventured closer to the couch to sit down to rest. As soon as he was down Sumo scrambled from his pillow in the corner and sat at the deviant's feet. "You're blaming the victim."

"No way! I'm NOT blaming a victim here, kid."

Shifting his eyes away from Hank and toward Sumo, Connor muttered his response under his breath. "...It sounds like you are."

"Hey, don't look at me like that. I know it sounds cold and cruel, but it's true." In a defensive manner Hank put his hands on his hips as he tried to think of the most delicate way to explain things to the overly empathetic deviant as he stood beside the couch. "That guy had a long track record of making bad decisions, that includes the attempted murder of you, sneaking out of a hospital A.M.A. when he learned the cops were lookin' for him, and ultimately one of those bad decisions ended up killing him. He had a history of violence against people AND androids alike. He dealt drugs and he was wanted in connection to at least four other shootings in the city. The guy was on borrowed time."

"That doesn't mean he deserved to die in such a painful way."

"You're right." The senior detective sighed as he relented and joined Connor on the couch. Sitting beside the deviant he relaxed his aggressive disposition before continuing on. "But you can't blame yourself for what that guy did. You stopped him after he broke the law, and he lashed out at you. It's not your fault that he did what he did."

"Then why do I still feel so guilty?"

"Because you have a heart, kid. That guy didn't even have a moral compass, let alone a heart."

Connor nodded a little as he took Hank's words to his aforementioned heart.

"And... if you had somehow managed to save his life then I might've been the one killed today. I get the feeling that my death would've been more of an impact on you than that of a total stranger."

Such a scenario caused Connor's yellow L.E.D. to flash to red with the disturbing thought of losing Hank in such a horrific manner.

"You saved my life today." Careful to not aggravate Connor's healing wounds Hank patted Connor once on the back between his shoulder blades. "Thank you."

"You saved my life, too."

"See? If you didn't have a heart then you wouldn't even consider yourself alive or had been upset that I could've died." Feeling a little smug Hank gave Connor a reassuring nod as he tried to help Connor push away his unnecessary remorse. "That guy didn't care about anything or anyone but himself."

"Will the guilt go away?"

"Yes, it will. Just give it time; like healing from a physical wound, you need to be patient."

Such a thought prompted Connor to press his palm to his chest over his heart and rest atop his still visible scar. "Do you ever feel guilty?"

"Not as much as I used to, but yeah, sometimes I do feel like shit whenever someone does something stupid and gets themselves killed."

"How do you learn to cope?" Tilting his head a little Connor tagged on another detail to his question. "...Without relying on substances."

"Well, you just need to remind yourself that you can't save everyone and not everyone deserves to be saved."

"That seems cynical."

"It might be, but that doesn't mean everyone doesn't deserve a second chance either. That guy had been arrested multiple times before you ever crossed paths, and he never changed for the better. He had his second chance, and a third, a fourth... Don't waste your time on the life of someone who didn't value it himself."

"You gave me a second chance to set things right when I failed my mission at Jericho."

"You didn't exactly fail your mission, kid. You just chose to not follow it through because you knew that what CyberLife was doing was wrong and that what Markus was doing was right. And..." Leaning back against the couch cushions Hank laughed a little to himself. "in my book you never failed. So you didn't need a second chance. You're still on your first chance and you haven't disappointed me."

"...For what it's worth," Appreciative of Hank's unyielding guidance Connor finally began to relax and his yellow L.E.D. transitioned back to blue. "I can honestly say the same applies to you."

"What do you mean by that?"

"You never failed or gave up on yourself, so you're still on your first chance from when I first met you as well."

"Oh." Letting out a tired sigh Hank just shook his head slightly at the bode of confidence in his favor. "Nice to know I'm not a complete fuck-up after all this time."

"You never were a fuck-up." Rubbing his hand over Sumo's ears Connor felt much better after talking with his adoptive father about everything they had gone through whether it was together or a solo journey. "You were just... lost."

"Yeah, lost in a bottle of whiskey and ready to drown in it." The man admitted with marked shame. "Thanks for throwing me a lifeline, kid."

"You're welcome." A sense of peace fell over the house as the two detectives found solace in one another's presence. Having a trusted friend and family to confide in had done the duo a world of good during their own journeys as detectives. "And thank you for giving me that first chance."

"No problem, son. I'll always be there for you, remember that."

-next chapter-