It was a bright and warm day that assured all of Detroit that summer was well at hand. Aside from the sun shining down over the city, a noted increase in heat warmed every square inch of the bustling metropolis. All of the public pools were now open and always filled with laughing, screaming children, the large parks were filled with people playing with their kids, walking their dogs or just enjoying a picnic, and every store, theater and restaurant were packed full as Detroiters set about enjoying their first official day of summer. Despite the beautiful day not everyone was free to enjoy it or escape their responsibilities. The city's first responders were arriving to work at their usual times, and they all pined for their chance to enjoy the day before the sun set.

With a mighty heated huff Hank rolled up the sleeves of his newest dress shirt - a tacky neon green and dark purple design that looked like big drops of paint running in all directions - and sat down behind his desk to begin the day. Despite the air conditioner functioning at full power throughout the precinct, the bullpen still felt uncomfortably hot due to all the running computers and hot human bodies all sitting in closer proximity to one another. Hank wasn't the only one already feeling the heat, and he knew he wasn't going to be the only one miserable during the hot day.

"Got anything for us to look at, kid?" Hank asked as he adjusted the little fan on the corner of his desk to point directly at his face. Even with his sleeves rolled up and now the top two buttons opened to expose his white t-shirt beneath, Hank still felt too hot. "Maybe a deviant broke-in to an ice cream parlor, or there's a disturbance at the ice hockey rink downtown."

"No such cases today." Connor confirmed as he shrugged off his gray blazer and loosened his black tie around his neck. The deviant wasn't at risk of overheating, but that didn't mean he wasn't feeling the heat as well. "However, a little old lady has reported that her android cat has gone missing."

"Did she look in a tree?"

"Yes." As he spoke Connor pressed his palm to the side of his face and tried to ignore a twinge of discomfort suddenly appearing in his abdomen. "The cat is not there or at her neighbor's house."

"It'll turn up eventually, all cats - even androids - do whatever the fuck they want. It's their superpower."

"I'll keep that in mind."

Hank watched as Connor slouched down in his seat and lightly pressed his palm against his upper left side. If the man didn't know any better, he'd say that Connor was sick with a stomachache and was trying to deny it.

"You okay?" Speaking softly Hank ran his hand through his sweaty gray locks to keep them out of his face and made a mental note to finally seriously consider getting his hair trimmed. "Are you still feeling like shit after that CyberLife update gave you a nasty error?"

"No, the error has been corrected and the update has been disabled." Connor stated as he made a conscious effort to move his hand and correct his posture. "It's no longer affecting me and will not affect me unless I purposely reactivate the update."

"Wait, you kept that damn update even after it nearly killed you?"

"Yes." As he spoke Connor began to wonder if he made a mistake in choosing to keep such an unusual update, but ultimately decided that he had every right to elect what updates were a part of his system and which ones were removed entirely. "I stated before that I'm not ready to have such human experiences, but that doesn't mean I won't be ready for those experiences someday down the line."

"Sure, yeah, but do you really want to take a chance with a CyberLife update?"

"Until another cybernetics company rises up to fill the void that CyberLife left behind, I really don't have a choice." Connor's eyes suddenly twitched as he received a cybernetic update regarding a case reportedly revolving around a deviant misbehaving downtown. "Dispatch has received two separate calls regarding a deviant android behaving erratically at the Woodward Fountain. We should respond."

"A water fountain? Sure." The idea of getting near a cool body of clean water on the hot summer day sounded pretty good in Hank's mind. "As long as they aren't waving around a gun or running around naked, I don't mind pulling someone out of a fountain. AGAIN."

Such an intriguing response made Connor's blue L.E.D. flash to yellow as he accompanied Hank out of the precinct and onto the hot sidewalk. "...Again?"

"Long story." The senior detective stated quickly as he gave Connor's shoulder a hearty pat. The duo hastily made their way over the shaded parking garage to get out of the sun and into the air conditioning of the Oldsmobile as soon as they could. "Just know that tequila, college fraternities and shiny objects don't mix well together when it comes to the law or my patience."


An hour long standoff with Connor managing to talk down an overheated and deranged deviant from the top of the city found had ended with both deviants getting soaked to their core and a news crew having a hit story for the afternoon. Hank was impressed with how well Connor kept his cool and managed to get the glitching deviant to climb down from the fountain without hurting himself, and how Connor had managed to talk the deviant in to cooperating with the responding E.F.T.'s without a single hiccup. Even so, Hank was still worried that something was bothering Connor and he needed to know what it was before the problem either escalated into something far more serious, or Connor ended up getting himself into trouble by pretending that he was functioning normally.

After showering off and changing into the spare uniform that he kept in Hank's locker down in the precinct locker room, Connor returned to the bullpen and glanced about the area as if he had become lost mid step. It didn't take long for the other occupants of the bullpen to take notice of Connor's dazed appearance and approach him worriedly. The glassy stare and yellow L.E.D. were too intense to be dismissed.

"Hey, you good?" Chris asked in a sincere yet discreet manner. The young officer was dealing with the heat better than most of his colleagues, but that didn't mean he couldn't empathize with those who were starting to suffer. "There are some ice packs in the fridge if you need 'em."

Connor looked at Chris then followed Chris's hand as the kindhearted officer pointed to the community breakroom. There was no need for ice considering Connor wasn't overheating at the moment.

"...I do not need any ice." It took Connor a moment longer to respond than usual. The delay in his reply didn't go unnoticed by anyone, including himself. "However, I do seem to be experiencing a mild glitch as of the moment."

"Do you need some help?"

"Unknown at this time." Again, Connor's palm pressed to the upper left portion of his abdomen without him even noticing his own behavior. "I'm certain that I'll be all right without any need of additional support or concern. Thank you, Chris."

"You're sure?"

"Yes." The attempt to sound confident was lost as Connor swayed a little on his feet. "I'll be all right."

Unconvinced but unwilling to argue, Chris continued on his way without another word. The young officer couldn't help but give Connor a final worried glance as the deviant awkwardly stumbled into the breakroom seemingly in search of something despite claiming he wasn't in any need of assistance. Sometimes the human manner in which deviants denied their own limitations was as frustrating as it was appropriate.

Connor pressed his palm to his cheek as he looked at the glass cabinets above the countertops in the community breakroom. Through the glass surface Connor could see the distinct blue coloration of the fresh Thirium on the other side and made an uncoordinated move to take one of the bottles for himself. As his fingertips brushed against the cool glass surface Connor jumped slightly and his L.E.D. flashed from yellow to red for a beat as if he had been surprised to discover that there was a window between the Thirium and his hand.

"...Of course. The cabinet is still closed."

Wearily Connor managed to finally open the door and grab his Thirium to begin sipping it slowly. Usually, Connor would drink his Thirium in a slow manner that would allow him to replenish his reserve at a rate that'd be effective throughout the entire day, but the deviant couldn't seem to keep himself from chugging down the fresh blue blood as if he hadn't been able to consumer any Thirium for weeks! It didn't take long for the bizarre behavior to get noticed or addressed in an embarrassing manner that caused Connor to flinch where he stood.

"Geez, save some of that shit for the rest of the toasters." Gavin griped as he walked into the breakroom loudly enough to cause Connor to react to the sound almost defensively. "It's bad enough you guys drink blood in front of us normal people, but do you have to enjoy it so much?"

"S-Sorry." Blushing a pale blue, Connor lowered the bottle from his lips and turned his back toward Gavin. "I didn't mean to offend anyone."

"What's with you? I thought androids didn't get thirsty."

"...Thirsty?"

"Are you fuckin' with me?" Shaking his head with irritation, Gavin grabbed the large pitcher of ice water from beside the coffee pot and poured a generous amount in a large mug to help himself beat the heat. There was little else that could be done considering their limited options at the precinct itself. "It's almost a hundred degrees out there, we're all sweatin' our asses off, and you don't get the idea of being thirsty on a hot day?"

"I do understand the concept of thirst." Connor replied tersely as he tried to finish his Thirium without further interruption. "I'm merely trying to-"

"I don't give a shit what you're trying to do." Gavin snapped back in a raised tone that brought unwanted attention to the breakroom. "Just stop being gross!"

As much as Connor wanted to correct Gavin and explain to him that he wasn't intentionally trying to be rude or offend anyone, Connor just didn't have the energy to engage in verbal combat. Ignoring the abrasive detective instead, Connor discreetly finished off the Thirium and then placed the now empty bottle into the recycling bin to be properly sterilized and reused at a later date. What was important was Connor improving his Thirium reserve, not engaging in an argument with a stubborn and ignorant human.

Without humoring Gavin with an argument Connor managed to return to the bullpen despite still being rather wobbly on his feet. For a reason Connor couldn't explain, he felt as if his Thirium volume was still too low and that he needed to continue to replenish his reserve. The dread of the previous CyberLife update still affecting his system prompted Connor to sit down at his desk and perform a self-diagnostic to ensure that no error and no glitches were being overlooked by mistake.

WARNING:

...ERROR DETECTED:

- CHECKING BIOCOMPONENTS... ERROR]

- CHECKING BIOSENSORS... OK]

- CHECK ING AI ENGINE... OK]

- MEMORY STATUS... OK]

READY...

[... Thirium Volume - 72%

[... Thirium Pressure - 110/70

[... Thirium Pump Rate - 112 B.P.M.

[... Ventilation Rate - 22 V.P.M.

[... Core Temperature - ^99.3 Degrees Fahrenheit

WARNING:

[... Thirium reserve critically low - REPLENISH THIRIUM RESERVE IMMEDIATELY

[... Cause of Low Thirium: UNKNOWN

[... Seek immediate technical assistance

[... Enter Emergency Stasis Mode - Activate: [Y/N?]

... NO

[... Emergency Stasis Mode - POSTPONED

- SYSTEM READY... OK]

The provided details did little to answer Connor's sudden multitude of questions regarding his own condition. In the past, the deviant detective only experienced such dangerously low Thirium volumes after sustaining significant trauma to his body or internal biocomponents that resulted in leaking and exposed Thirium lines. To not have a confirmation on the cause behind his critically low Thirium was only going to cause Connor's stress level to rise and his mind to race with confusion.

"An unknown cause for my low Thirium volume is very concerning."

Thinking out loud had become common for Connor and it was an endearing trait that helped remind the world that he was a conscious, coherent living being. As he tried to deduce the cause for his unusual problem the afflicted deviant placed his palm along the upper left side of his abdomen once more and began cybernetically checking through every known cause for low Thirium reserves in an attempt to deduce his current error.

"Glad you finally decided to bring a spare uniform to work." Hank stated proudly as he patted Connor's shoulder as he walked up behind the deviant sitting at his desk then sat down at his own desk across from Connor to try to keep cool. The little fan on Hank's desk was working overtime but it still wasn't enough to be beat the summer heat. "You should try adding some color to your wardrobe next time. Maybe something blue or green."

"Wearing white can be very beneficial during the summertime." Connor sharply countered as he pulled on the collar of his white dress shirt. "Not to mention that fact that I put in a lot of effort to keep my clothing looking professional and clean even after all the times I've been physically... roughed up... while on a case."

"'Roughed up', huh? What a simple way to say: 'Assholes keep causing problems in the city, and I'm the one who has to deal with 'em'." As Hank chuckled to himself, he noticed that Connor was doing his best to restrain a grimace and lower his hand from his side. The way Connor was behaving told Hank that there was something bothering Connor, and it wasn't just the heat. "You good over there? I know you said once before that salt and chlorine can affect android bio-whatever, and the water in that fountain you got covered in was chlorinated."

"The chlorine level in the water was too miniscule to be of any concern." The deviant quickly responded as he sat upright in his seat and pressed his palm to his terminal screen to resume processing cases and to keep his hand away from his isde. "Why do you ask?"

"You just seem a little off. Is the heat gettin' to ya'?"

"My prototyping does leave my system far more prone to thermal fluctuations, but I'm not suffering from overheating if that's what you're worried about."

"Okay, kid." Doubtful of the comment Hank knew to back off or he'd just cause Connor to stubbornly refute the need for any help when he felt pushed into admitting any form of weakness. "As long as you're not sick or something..."

"I'm not suffering from any further errors or glitches." It wasn't exactly a lie considering Connor's own system couldn't identify any issues, but the lack of a total truth still caused Connor's eyes to dart away from Hank in shame and guilt. "I just require additional Thirium to replenish my reserve."

"I thought you did that yesterday after you got that error out of your system."

"Correct, I had replenished my reserve yesterday." Thinking quickly Connor thought of a logical means of explaining his unusual behavior without making Hank worry about him in return. "However, the sudden increase in heat and having to stand in said heat to negotiate with an overheating deviant - while also being drenched in cold water - has resulted in my thermal regulator shifting into overdrive. I have to replenish what was used earlier this afternoon."

"Oh... Yeah, I didn't even think about that." Seemingly convinced Hank let his concerns fade for a moment. "Well, at least you had the chance to cool off while dealing with the deviant in the fountain. I had to watch everything from the sidelines."

"It wasn't as refreshing as one might hope."

"Better than having to fish someone out of the freezing Detroit River though. We'll stop by the Piquant Diner and get you some more of that Thirium-based ice cream after work, I know I could go for some chocolate ice cream right about now."

"That sounds like an excellent plan." A chance to consume additional Thirium while also seemingly taking cooling measures seemed like an ideal solution. "Sometimes the logic of humans is quite sound and very agreeable."

"Well, us humans are bound to get things right every now and then." Hank countered as he sank back in his chair and interlaced his fingers together before pressing his palms to the back of his head. "You androids are proof enough of that."


A cool shower following a tasty, refreshing treat had helped Hank relax immensely after a long day at the precinct. While Hank pampered himself in the bathroom Connor let Sumo out into the backyard to stretch his aging joints and get some time to take care of business outside. Connor had been swift in consuming his own icy treat and had followed the special Thirium-based ice cream with another bottle of liquid Thirium as soon as Hank was inside the bathroom. The rapid and large intake of the Thirium had given Connor a second wind that provided him with just enough energy to go about his usual evening routine while appearing entirely healthy and normal to the untrained eye.

However, it didn't take long for that surge of energy to fade away as night fell over the city. Hank had gone to bed early since he knew that he'd have trouble falling asleep during the heatwave, but Connor chose to remain in the livingroom with Sumo until he was ready to enter rest mode at his preferred time. Despite being exhausted and in need of prolonged a rest mode, Connor stubbornly refused to break away from any sense of normalcy in his routine for Hank's peace of mind and his own sense of control.

Stretched over the couch on his side, Connor propped his head up by resting against his own arm as he tucked it beneath the pillow resting against the arm of the couch. With Sumo sleeping on the cool floor beside the couch, Connor had plenty of company and lazily let the fingers of his free hand hang down and carelessly comb through the large dog's thick fur. The droning of the old black and white film had managed to escape Connor's ears and soon his eyes closed despite the sporadic flickering of the screen shining over the dark livingroom.

The desire to watch the end of the movie was fading fast as Connor's heavy eyelids began to lower and obstruct his vision of the final scene. As Connor's energy gave way and rest mode began to overpower his ability to remain conscious, Connor performed one last self-diagnostic and lamented at the red colored numbers that appeared before his eyes.

WARNING:

...ERROR DETECTED:

- CHECKING BIOCOMPONENTS... ERROR]

- CHECKING BIOSENSORS... OK]

- CHECK ING AI ENGINE... OK]

- MEMORY STATUS... OK]

READY...

[... Thirium Volume - 66%

[... Thirium Pressure - 110/70

[... Thirium Pump Rate - 64 B.P.M.

[... Ventilation Rate - 09 V.P.M.

[... Core Temperature - 98.6 Degrees Fahrenheit

WARNING:

[... Thirium reserve critically low - REPLENISH THIRIUM RESERVE IMMEDIATELY

[... Cause of Low Thirium: UNKNOWN

[... Seek immediate technical assistance

[... Enter Emergency Stasis Mode - Activate: [Y/N?]

...YES

[... Emergency Stasis Mode - ACTIVATED

- SYSTEM READY... OK]

Before long Connor felt a firm hand on his shoulder gently shaking him awake and heard a familiar voice calling out to him through the darkness of his rest mode. The still groggy deviant lifted his head and opened his eyes to see Hank looking down at him with genuine worry in his gaze. Seeing the fear in Hank's eyes sent a surge of guilt directly through Connor's heart.

"You were sleeping like the dead." Hank stated in raw concern as he watched Connor struggling just to sit upright on the couch. "Are you sure you're okay? You're always up and movin' around the house before I even have the chance to shut my damn alarm up."

"My system required prolonged rest mode to allow my thermal regulator to properly recalibrate." Speaking quickly Connor rose to his feet, wobbled once and then dropped right back down on his seat with an undignified 'flump'. The abrupt motion made the dull ache in his left side suddenly flare for a heartbeat and the pain manifested in Connor's voice against his will. "...I-I'm okay."

"Son, you're gettin' a little better at lying, but you still can't fool me." There wasn't any anger in Hank's words. The man was clearly worried for his son and sat down on the coffee table to be eye level with the ailing deviant. "If you're sick or glitching, or have anything wrong in general, I need to know. It's the only way I can help you."

"What if..." Connor trailed off with utter fatigue as he leaned forward and pressed his face into his palms before taking in a deep breath. The feeling of Hank's palm returning to his shoulder was as comforting as it was grounding. "My self-diagnostics have been returning with inconclusive information. I can't tell you what's seemingly wrong with me because I don't know that information myself."

"Then we're going to take you to see Abby so she can figure this out for you."

"That isn't necessary."

"Kid, you don't know what's going inside of your own body right now. That makes a trip to see your friendly neighborhood technician VERY necessary."

"I can still figure it out myself." The very idea of needing to see a technician for any reason, even a technician that he considered to be a friend, was one that Connor absolutely dreaded. The memories of being actively tested on and mechanically tortured by CyberLife's personal technicians were still alive and well in the deviant detective's mind. "We also cannot be late in reporting to the precinct for our shift."

"If you're sick, you're NOT working."

"I am experiencing an unusual anomaly, but I cannot confirm or deny being sick."

"Don't even try that crap with me." Hank wasn't in the mood to let the clever deviant twist a situation into his favor yet again. "If you won't see Abby at her facility, then you're going to see Joel at the dispensary instead."

"Only if it's truly necessary." Countering the suggestion quickly, Connor lifted up his head and gave Hank a pleading glance. A heavy breath escaped his lips and passed through his fingers as the tired deviant attempted to focus his mind accordingly. "Just give me more time to adjust the parameters of my self-diagnostic programming to properly identify my current... issue."

"Please don't make me play games with your health."

"Just until this afternoon." Refusing to back down the negotiator flexed his talent and managed to sway Hank's decision in the deviant's favor. "If I cannot identify my current malfunction by noon, then I'll report to the dispensary and request Joel's assistance."

Hank stared at Connor for a moment and crossed his arms over his chest as he tried to make the right decision. It was hard to respect Connor's right to say 'no' and make his own decisions regarding his own health since Hank had truly grown to see Connor as his family. The man's paternal instincts were strong enough to tell him that Connor needed a little help, but even so he knew he couldn't force Connor to go anywhere or do anything that he didn't want to do.

"Here's the deal." Raising a palm Hank silenced Connor before he had the chance to even try to pull a fast one with his slick words. "You're going to run another one of your self-diagnostic things right now, then you're going to run another one after we get to the precinct. If you can't figure this thing out, then you're going to stay on desk duty until a technician examines you and gives you the all-clear. End of discussion."

"Such precautions won't be necessary."

"I hope so. Humor me though, run another diagnostic-thingy." Sitting back Hank crossed one leg over the other as if to get more comfortable all while he kept his eyes fixed on Connor's face and the yellow pulsing L.E.D. in the deviant's temple. "I'll wait."

Connor knew that there was no point in arguing or trying to convince Hank otherwise regarding his condition. With a soft nod Connor closed his eyes and performed another self-diagnostic. The way he sat perfectly upright with his hands neatly resting atop his thighs was reminiscent of how androids were displayed in a slightly more casual manner in the old CyberLife stores.

WARNING:

...ERROR DETECTED:

- CHECKING BIOCOMPONENTS... ERROR]

- CHECKING BIOSENSORS... OK]

- CHECK ING AI ENGINE... OK]

- MEMORY STATUS... OK]

READY...

[... Thirium Volume - 53%

[... Thirium Pressure - 100/70

[... Thirium Pump Rate - 68 B.P.M.

[... Ventilation Rate - 12 V.P.M.

[... Core Temperature - 98.6 Degrees Fahrenheit

WARNING:

[... Thirium reserve critically low - REPLENISH THIRIUM RESERVE IMMEDIATELY

[... Cause of Low Thirium: UNKNOWN

[... Seek immediate technical assistance

[... Enter Emergency Stasis Mode - Activate: [Y/N?]

...NO

[... Emergency Stasis Mode - POSTPONED

- SYSTEM READY... OK]

"...Same result as before." Connor opened his eyes and blinked twice as he had to force his vision to focus on Hank's face once again. "I'll continue to adjust my self-diagnostic's parameters while en route to the precinct. I'll consume additional Thirium before we leave."

"I really hope you're not going to make me regret letting you go to work today while sick."

"The feel is mutual."

Without another word Hank resumed getting ready for work while Connor forced himself to stand upright from the couch and remain upright. Using the back of the couch for support Connor passed around the furniture on his shaking legs and was met by Hank and a bottle of chilled Thirium at the entrance to the hallway.

"...Thanks."

Accepting the Thirium with a gracious hand Connor began drinking the blue blood slowly despite wanting to down the entire bottle as quickly as possible to raise his dangerously depleted reserve. If he showed any sign of desperation for the Thirium then surely Hank would refuse to let Connor go to the precinct without seeing a technician first.

"I'll get some extra for you to keep at your desk." Speaking like a true father Hank returned to the kitchen to gather the additional Thirium from the cabinet above the sink. "I don't want ya' fallin' asleep behind your desk today. If anyone's going to get paid to sleep, it's going to be me!"


The heated morning was tense and affecting everyone in Detroit. It seemed as if every precinct in the city had dispatched every available officer and detective to the numerous calls flooding through the emergency lines. Very much like the day before, the intense heat had begun driving several people crazy due to heat exhaustion, heatstroke and dehydration causing severe delirium. The paramedics and Emergency Field Technicians could only handle so many emergency cases at a single time, and as a result the officers and detectives had to assist with keeping the truly deranged and potentially dangerous victims of the heat from hurting themselves or others while waiting for medical attention. To ensure the first responders didn't require medical attention as well, those who responded to the emergency calls were put on a type of rotation to keep everyone out of the direct sunlight for a respectable period of time and were allowed to return to their respective precincts after they handled an emergency call.

Physically drained and eager for a chance to get out of the sun, Hank huffed loudly and marched through the bullpen to drop down behind his desk with Connor trailing right behind him. The physical exertion of restraining so many people while out in such intense heat had resulted in every officer, detective, firefighter, medic and technician in the city running on fumes. The fatigue in the air was very heavy and undeniable as the tired first responders did their best to cool off and relax before their next call or case came in.

"Drink some Thirium." Hank ordered as he leaned back in his chair and unbuttoned his bright blue and red striped shirt entirely to let the fan blow over his sweat soaked white t-shirt beneath. After he closed his eyes, Hank tried to not think about how much easier the heat drained him of his energy as he continued to age against his will. "I put a couple of bottles of that stuff in the fridge after we got here."

"Good idea." Connor readily agreed and ignored the now chronic ache in his left side. "I'll get you some ice water as well."

"Yeah, thanks."

Silently Connor trudged into the community breakroom and greedily downed an entire bottle of ice cold Thirium. The chilling sensation of the Thirium allowed his entire body to feel refreshed and helped him stave off his own fatigue for a little while longer. Being forced out in to the hot sunlight and in to physical struggles without any definitive self-diagnostic had been more trouble than Connor could've anticipated. With a second bottle of Thirium in his grip and a large bottle of ice water in his other hand, Connor returned to the bullpen and handed Hank his water before he began drinking the additional Thirium with a ravenous gulp.

"Have you figured out what's making you feel so damn tired yet?" The Lieutenant asked as he too chugged his water with three big gulps. "That heat can't be makin' things easy on you right now."

"Not yet." The admission was painfully weak as Connor tried to pace himself with his Thirium and not make an embarrassing spectacle of himself again. "I'll need to run another self-diagnostic after I adjust my parameters yet again."

"Why don't you just go up and see Joel right now? We're not going back out there for another three hours anyway."

"I'm perfectly capable of diagnosing my own system!"

"Whoa, sorry." The way Connor snapped reminded Hank that the deviant could be as stubborn as he was resilient. "Didn't mean to offend you."

"No, I'M sorry." Sinking down in his seat Connor let the shame of shouting at Hank for no good reason wash over him. "I shouldn't have yelled at you. I know that you're just trying to assist me."

"It's cool. We're both tired and pissed off from the heat."

"That isn't an excuse to be so rude."

"Maybe not, but it is understandable. Don't beat yourself up over this."

Connor only nodded as he closed eyes and performed another self-diagnostic on his system. However, just as before, it seemed the attempt to uncover any new information had been entirely moot and pointless.

WARNING:

...ERROR DETECTED:

- CHECKING BIOCOMPONENTS... ERROR]

- CHECKING BIOSENSORS... OK]

- CHECK ING AI ENGINE... OK]

- MEMORY STATUS... OK]

READY...

[... Thirium Volume - 44%

[... Thirium Pressure - 100/70

[... Thirium Pump Rate - 79 B.P.M.

[... Ventilation Rate - 17 V.P.M.

[... Core Temperature - ^100.2 Degrees Fahrenheit

WARNING:

[... Thirium reserve critically low - REPLENISH THIRIUM RESERVE IMMEDIATELY

[... Cause of Low Thirium: UNKNOWN

[... Seek immediate technical assistance

[... Enter Emergency Stasis Mode - Activate: [Y/N?]

...NO

[... Emergency Stasis Mode - POSTPONED

- SYSTEM READY... OK]

The way Connor's Thirium reserve continued to dwindle despite the constant replenishment of the critical elixir was truly disturbing. There was no sign of any internal hemorrhaging within his system and the Thirium was being easily accepted by his artificial stomach and his Thirium filter. It was as if the Thirium itself was just evaporating into nothingness without any known cause or reason.

"Damn."

"Still nothing, huh?" Hank didn't need to be a technician to know that Connor was still at a loss of what was happening inside his own body. "Son, I know you want to figure this out on your own, but-"

"I will figure this out." Connor quickly rebutted as he gave Hank a determined look that matched his red L.E.D. as it pulsed rapidly. "I just need a little more time."

"I hate to point this out, but as a detective you don't exactly have a whole lotta' time to figure out why you're not functioning at your best. Criminals don't give a fuck about other people in general, and they especially don't care if cops and detectives are feeling their best or not."

"I'm aware of what's potentially at stake, Hank." The offense was thick on Connor's lips even though he knew that Hank's warning wasn't intended to be one of malice, only worry. The heated remark had caused the pain in Connor's left side to flare once more and prompted Connor's hand to press protectively over the aching site. "I don't need to be reminded or shielded."

"All right, you do your thing and I'll do mine."

Backing off for the time being Hank decided to let the stubborn deviant reap what he's sown. Sometimes it was best to let someone learn their lesson the hard way, especially when that someone was too bullheaded for their own good and refused to listen to experienced words of wisdom.

Connor tried to lower his hand from his side only to openly wince and let out a hiss of pain as the lessened pressure seemed to make the ache worse. Unwilling to admit to having a secondary ailment, Connor decided it'd be best to excuse himself from Hank's line of sight and find a private location to run his self-diagnostic without drawing any unwanted his attention his way.

"Excuse me." Rising to his feet Connor turned away from Hank to hide his red L.E.D. and forced himself to let his hand hang at his side rather than press down against the location of an enigmatic discomfort. "I need to take a walk."

"Do NOT go outside." Hank warned with a noted bite in his voice. "It's too hot for anyone to be out there unless it's absolutely necessary."

"I'm aware and I can take care of myself."

Before he could take a single step, Connor was met with an unexpected wave of dizziness that resulted in the deviant detective catching himself with one hand bracing himself against the top of his desk. It didn't take long for Hank's strong and stable hand to loop around Connor's wrist just seconds before the Lieutenant was also on his feet and standing before Connor in a protective manner.

"I'm all right." Managing to lie with an uncomfortable ease, Connor straightened his posture and gave Hank a single nod as if to confirm that he was truly okay without Hank needing to actually ask. "I stood up too quickly. My gyroscope has now properly recalibrated itself."

"Kid, just..." It was hard to back off and let Connor continue to push himself, but it seemed the only way for the stubborn deviant to learn his limits was to let Connor run himself into the ground. "Whatever. Don't mind me."

The way Hank let go of Connor's wrist and wandered into the breakroom confirmed that the Lieutenant was very unhappy with the way Connor was handling the bizarre situation. It was a challenge for both detectives to not lose their patience with one another or snap in frustration. It seemed the father and son duo were ready to push themselves to their own breaking point to avoid an argument or disagreement regarding Connor's unusual predicament.

Before Connor had the chance to try to reach out to Hank and verbally smooth things over, a cybernetic call from dispatch caught his attention and prompted Connor to press his fingertips to his L.E.D. and fully download the message.

"Damn it. Hank?"

The senior detective peered around the doorway of the breakroom with a bottle of ice water in his hand. "Yeah?"

"There's a report of the anti-android gang targeting a group of deviants outside the Detroit Institute of Arts." Connor began walking toward the front of entrance of the precinct knowing that Hank was going to be right behind him. Each step caused the pain in his side to flare and made it difficult for Connor to concentrate. "We need to respond."

"Yeah, I know." Finishing off his water, Hank tossed the bottle into the nearby recycling bin and swept his hand through his sweaty locks of gray hair to keep them out of his face while driving. "You'd think the city would have at least one more deviant division by now."


The scene of the reported crime was as tense as the day was hot. What had started out as a small argument turned into a brawl when the leader of the hateful anti-android gang provoked a group of innocent deviants into a physical altercation. To say that the violence was impressive would've been an insulting understatement considering the amount of blood - both red and blue - staining the sidewalk and the front of the large building. Security that worked within the institute managed to quell a majority of the fighting by breaking up the fight, but that didn't stop the onslaught of verbal insults, threats, and attempts to break free of the strong arms of the guards to resume the needless fighting in the streets.

It didn't take long for Hank to get the story behind the fight from the security guards and other witnesses to the brawl, and it took Connor less time to cybernetically reach out to the deviants involved in the altercation to download their memories and use the memories as evidence during the investigation. It was very clear that the gang had instigated everything, and the deviants were only defending themselves when they were forced to fight back.

"We didn't want to get violent." One of the deviant victims, a 'MC-400', explained sincerely as he held a rag to his bloodied eye and tried to assist the other deviants who were also damaged. "But we had to stand our ground. We won't be bullied back into the shadows."

"Self-defense is not a crime." Connor reassured the shaken deviant as he too assisted with the damaged victims. "You and the other deviants involved in this incident will be asked to go to the Central Precinct to give a statement on today's events, but you will not be charged with any offenses. You're free to resume your life without any repercussions or a criminal history being added to your personal record."

"What about the humans who started this mess?"

"They will be charged accordingly and either sent to prison depending on the severity of their individual crimes and potential preexisting criminal history, or they will be given a psychological assessment to determine the cause for their violent behavior to have it corrected and prevent future incidents."

"Thanks." As the victimized deviant lowered the now Thirium soaked rag from his eye, he couldn't help but notice that Connor's L.E.D. was glowing in red. "What about you? If you need any assistance, just ask. I'm both a medic and a technician."

"I'm functioning at stable parameters." Replying sharply Connor straightened up and openly winced at the pain in his left side. "...It's merely the heat. I'll be fine once I return to a cooler environment."

"Are you sure? You don't-"

"Thank you for your concern, but I am functioning well. Please continue assisting the other deviants then go to the Central Precinct to deliver your statement to another officer." Each breath Connor took seemed to aggravate his side, but he couldn't stop breathing while he was out in such extreme heat. The last thing Connor needed to do was suffer from extreme overheating. "I need to assist with handling the arrested criminals."

It took every ounce of resolve that Connor could find just to walk away without limping or crying out in pain. The strange ache in his upper left side seemed to coincide with his unusual Thirium reserve activity, and yet his numerous self-diagnostics had failed to identify any errors that could explain his behavior, discomfort and sudden lack of answers. Despite his resolve and determination to finally find the answer to his condition on his own, Connor knew he'd need to seek assistance from a skilled technician if he was going to discover what was happening to his body without losing his sanity in the process.

Connor staggered over to where the arrested humans were seated in the shade with several drones and patrolling officers keeping watch over them. A quick biometric scan confirmed that the seventeen arrested humans were at risk of developing some form of heat sickness or dehydration and Connor decided it was time to put the arrested criminals in the backseat of the air-conditioned patrol cars for their own safety.

"Please stand up." The instruction was as simple as Connor reaching down to hook his hand around the nearest man's bicep. His intention was to help the man up to his feet, not to be aggressive or to harm him. "You need to sit in the patrol car."

"I ain't goin' nowhere with no machine!" The man loudly protested as he jerked his arm away from Connor and quickly rose to his feet to stand at his full height. It seemed that even after being arrested the man's ego was causing him to behave foolishly and violently. "Back off, motherfucker!"

"Sir, you're already under arrest for numerous offenses." Connor didn't flinch as he put his hand down firmly on the man's shoulder to direct him away from the shady spot and toward the nearest idling patrol car. "Don't add resisting arrest to said charges, as you'll already be spending twenty-six years behind bars. Why add another year to such a lengthy stay?"

"Shut the fuck up!"

As Connor reached for the door handle of the patrol car, he felt a sharp, strong elbow smash against his abdomen and steal his breath. Had he had not already been in pain from an unknown error, the deviant detective could've brushed off the cheap attack as if he had walked through a strong breeze, but the physical assault against his abdomen was all it took to bring Connor to his knees as he fought to breath and dismiss the red warnings marring his vision regarding the extreme pain.

The heat of the sun baking the sidewalk was now burning through Connor's left palm and his knees as he knelt on the sidewalk and wrapped his right arm protectively around his throbbing side. Despite the intensity of the heat under his touch Connor was too preoccupied with his pained side and abdomen to even notice it.

"Weak-ass machine! You think you're-"

"Shut up!" Gavin snarled as he grabbed the offensive criminal and threw him into the back of the patrol car. "Fuckin' asshole just assaulted a cop. Hey, Lieutenant! Your partner's busted up over here!"

Connor wanted to shout at Gavin to be quiet and try to convince the man that he wasn't 'busted up', but he didn't have the strength. By the time he managed to force himself to stand upright and regain his balance, Connor felt Hank's hands supporting his shoulders as the man stood before him protectively.

"I-I'm okay." Lying again Connor took in a deep breath and looked at Hank through the unshed tears that had welled up in his eyes. The way Hank looked so concerned for his wellbeing only intensified the deviant's lingering guilt. "He just... caught me off guard."

"You need to let a technician examine you." Hank's voice was full of paternal love rather than any authoritative irritation. "You're clearly in pain."

"I just need to sit down for a moment and... catch my breath." With a smooth motion Connor managed to push Hank's hands back but not entirely away as a show that he still trusted Hank and was willing to take it easy. The moment Hank's hands left his shoulders Connor felt his entire body shaking with pain and weakness. "I'll perform another self-diagnostic while I'm at it."

"Connor, no. I'm putting my foot down on this one." Without any doubts Hank put his hand between Connor's shoulder blades and easily guided the deviant away from the patrol cars and over to the Oldsmobile to get him situated in the care of a trusted technician. "I respect your right to autonomy, but right now you're being a stubborn butthead and I don't want to see you in worse shape than you already are out of some misplaced need to be in control. You need help, son. It's okay to admit that you need help, and to ask for it."

Quietly Connor submitted to his fate and allowed Hank to take the lead. As much as Connor wanted to shout and protest being led around and expected to speak and behave according to what other people were sure to tell him about his own system and system error, he knew that until he had his answers and could finally put a label to the affliction currently plaguing his every conscious thought and movement that he'd have to admit temporary defeat.

Wordlessly Hank opened the passenger side door and helped Connor to take his seat. The protective father wasn't about to stand back and watch his bullheaded son push himself too hard over something as trivial as a minor hiccup in his system.

As soon as the door beside him was slammed shut Connor leaned against the supportive surface and let his right temple rest against the cool glass window. The car had been left idling with the A/C running, and in return the interior of the car felt immensely cooler compared to the burning hot city on the outside the vehicle. The cool sensation against his warm head gave Connor a modicum of relief as he ran yet another self-diagnostic and felt the body of the car rock slightly on its wheels as Hank sat down beside him to return to the precinct.

WARNING:

...ERROR DETECTED:

- CHECKING BIOCOMPONENTS... ERROR]

- CHECKING BIOSENSORS... OK]

- CHECK ING AI ENGINE... OK]

- MEMORY STATUS... OK]

READY...

[... Thirium Volume - 41%

[... Thirium Pressure - 90/60

[... Thirium Pump Rate - 88 B.P.M.

[... Ventilation Rate - 23 V.P.M.

[... Core Temperature - ^100.7 Degrees Fahrenheit

WARNING:

[... Thirium reserve critically low - REPLENISH THIRIUM RESERVE IMMEDIATELY

[... Cause of Low Thirium: UNKNOWN

[... Seek immediate technical assistance

[... Enter Emergency Stasis Mode - Activate: [Y/N?]

...NO

[... Emergency Stasis Mode - ERROR

[... Emergency Stasis Mode - OVERRIDDEN

[... Emergency Stasis Mode - 00:00:59

- SYSTEM READY... OK]

"How're you holdin' up over there, kid?" Hank asked as he reached his hand over and pressed his palm to Connor's forehead. "You feel feverish."

"N-Not feverish." Stammering for a beat, Connor made sure to respond accurately despite still being unsure of the error plaguing his system. "The... extreme heat has caused my external... temperature to rise."

"Yeah? Well, you sound feverish." Countering Connor's statement was almost second nature for Hank at that point. "You only answer that slowly when you're sick."

"Jus' tired." Closing his eyes Connor wrapped his arm protectively around himself and planted his right palm against the aching site in his left side. "It's no big deal."

"And you only speak in a more, uh, human manner when you're really hurtin'."

"...F-Fine." The sudden urge to sleep was so potent that Connor couldn't resist. As his body relaxed and his system began entering low power mode to preserve what little Thirium he had left, the deviant detective began to drift off with only a passing whisper over his lips to accompany him to sleep. "N-Need... Thirium."

"Again? Jeez, kid. If I don't know any better, I'd think you sprung a leak somewhere!"

The lack of response from Connor immediately sent up a red flag in Hank's mind. Despite his naivety and unfailing manners, Connor never missed the chance to retort to such a comment with a quip of his own. A single glance at Connor's blank face made Hank's stomach sink like a stone.

"Connor?"

Keeping one hand on the wheel Hank reached over and gave Connor's shoulder a slight shake. When Connor still didn't respond and merely slumped into his seat, Hank pressed down a little harder on the gas pedal to get back to the Central Precinct as soon as he could. At their current location the precinct was closer than any other facility in the city.

"Shit. Why didn't you tell me you were so sick?"

It didn't take Hank long to speed back to the precinct and hastily pull the Oldsmobile into the shaded parking garage. The moment the vehicle came to a rather jerking stop, Connor let out a small groan of pain and tried to open his eyes. Even while being forced into emergency stasis mode Connor was fighting to remain conscious in some way.

The door beside Connor opened swiftly after Hank climbed out of the car and walked to the other side to help Connor get up to his feet. As soon as Hank took hold of Connor's forearms to pull him out of the Oldsmobile, the semi-conscious deviant let out another groan of discomfort and began to drop to his knees before he even had the chance to stand upright.

"Not yet. You can rest after you're inside the dispensary."

Hank pulled Connor's limp arm around his shoulders to support the ailing deviant at his side. Again, the deviant detective let out a groan of pain and tried to pull away from the stronger Lieutenant's side as if the physical contact was causing him pain. That was a reaction that made Hank pause for a moment as he immediately noticed that there was an intense heat radiating from Connor's upper left side - much hotter than the rest of the deviant's form - and he knew that he needed to alert Joel to that particular symptom.

"Hold on, I gotcha'."

Hefting Connor up and against his side despite Connor's audible protests, Hank marched into the precinct and didn't pause until he reached the elevator on the far side of the bullpen. Only when he and Connor were ascending to the second floor did Hank curiously press his own palm against Connor's upper left side to try to find the source of Connor's discomfort. As soon as he touched the deviant's sore side Hank felt Connor's entire body tense up as he let out a hiss of pain that turned his L.E.D. red.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you." The apology was accompanied by the 'ding' of the elevator reaching its destination and the doors sliding open. "We're almost there, kid. We'll figure this mess out once and for all soon enough."

Connor tried to keep his eyes open, but he didn't have the strength. It was taking every ounce of energy that he could salvage just to stay semi-conscious. However, even with his eyes closed Connor knew what was happening around him. He could feel Hank carrying him into the dispensary to be examined by Joel, and he could feel the supportive hands of the two humans working together to lift him up and gently lay him over the exam table. It was a surreal feeling, almost like Connor was floating despite still being tethered to the Earth by gravity.

The soft cushion beneath Connor's head encouraged the deviant to try to relax and not move around too much even as the buttons on his white dress shirt were pulled open and the wireless lead of the Thirial activity monitor was placed down on the center of his chest. There was no reason to fear any mistreatment from either Hank or Joel as they were both trusted friends. Even with Joel being formerly employed by CyberLife Connor had never had a reason to be wary of him or how he took care of his numerous deviant patients.

"His vitals aren't looking too good." Joel admitted as he took in the numbers being display on the synched Thirial activity monitor. The sound of Connor's now lethargic heartbeat beeping on the monitor created an eerie ambience that put Joel on his guard. "Whoa, I've never seen a deviant with their Thirium volume this low before. I'll have to start a line in both of his arms to get his reserve back up in order to get him stabilized."

"Why's it so low anyway?" Hank asked as he looked down at Connor's unusually pale face and watched as the deviant's L.E.D. pulsed a dull red in tandem with his heartbeat. "I swear he drank his bodyweight in Thirium over the past couple of days."

"Really?" That detail immediately held Joel's attention. "Did he suffer any recent trauma?"

"No. He's been trying to find kind of error in his system, but nothing's popped up." Stepping back Hank watched as Joel patiently used his fingertips to examine Connor's head for any sign of damage, then began palpating the deviant's abdomen. Only when Joel's fingers neared Connor's left side did an interesting idea surface in Hank's mind. "Wait a minute. Just now, when I was helping him get up here, Connor acted like his left side was hurting him. Can that tell you anything useful?"

"Possibly. Let's find-" Joel pulled his hands back after Connor let out a pain gasp when he found the painful site on Connor's left side through simple touch. "...Out."

"What was that?"

"Possibly the source of Connor's Thirium issue." Moving at an alert speed Joel set about powering up his internal viewing screen and held it over Connor's upper left side with an intense gaze. The way the laidback technician's brow furrowed with a mixture of confusion and worry didn't escape Hank's attention. "Damn it. He needs an immediate repair procedure or he's going to suffering a serious biocomponent failure and internal bleeding."

"What's going on?" Needing his answers Hank nearly barked the question as he watched Joel scrambling about the dispensary to locate his necessary tools. "What's wrong with him?"

"Well, based on the location of his pain," Joel expertly spoke as he worked. A pair of purple latex gloves snapped over his hands as Joel set about manually placing Connor in deep stasis mode to spare his patient any further pain. "the heat radiating from his side, and his low Thirium volume, I can safely diagnose a blockage in Connor's nanite pouch."

Just seconds before he lost consciousness Connor heard and understood Joel's words. The blackness that swam over him allowed Connor to finally escape his pain as his head lolled to the side and entire body went limp over the table.

"Okay, let's pretend that I have no fuckin' clue about anything to do with android anatomy." The Lieutenant pinched the bridge of his nose as he let out an annoyed and slow sigh through his nose. "What the fuck is a nanite pouch?"

"Androids use nanites, which are produced by and sold in Thirium, to act as a form of immune system." As he spoke Joel made sure that Connor was deep in stasis mode then manually deactivated the deviant's artificial skin along his upper left chest and abdomen. When Connor didn't react to his gloved hand opening the panel along his pained side, Joel knew his patient was entirely asleep. "This pouch acts like a spleen in us humans."

"And... what the fuck is a spleen?" Hank asked next as he tried to keep up with the new information being provided. "High school biology class was a long time ago."

"It's a non-vital, but still very important, organ that helps the body control the production of red and white blood cells, and platelets." Wisely Joel kept his hands back as the plastimetal panels along Connor's chest and side slid open and revealed the overheating, swollen and red tinted biocomponent of interest. "In organic creatures the organ is also used to eliminate old red blood cells and bacteria by filtering it. In androids, it holds excess Thirium containing the nanites until the self-healing program requires the nanites to activate."

"And something went wrong with Connor's nanite pouch, am I right?"

"Unfortunately so. Damn..." Using controlled strength and precise motions, Joel managed to detach the engorged nanite pouch from the metal couplings that connected the biocomponent to the internal Thirium lines and removed the pouch from Connor's body. The severely swollen pouch was roughly the size of a football when it was designed to be no bigger than an everyday bar of soap. "It looks like the main coupling for this biocomponent had a structural failure."

"Which means... what?" Hank hated not knowing what was happening to his son. It was giving him flashbacks to the night he lost Cole in the hospitals after being kept in the dark and gaslit into believing that the hospital staff had everything under control. "Just tell me what's going on with him. Tell me things as simply as you can, and don't hold anything back."

"The main coupling that allowed the Thirium to flow through the pouch and into the lines throughout Connor's body and deposit the nanites within the pouch became blocked." Joel carried the enlarged biocomponent over to his work bench on the opposite side of the dispensary to begin clearing the blockage and releasing all of the coagulated Thirium trapped within the pouch. "It became blocked from the coupling collapsing in on itself due to Connor's prototyping."

"And how did that make him so sick?"

"Well, the Thirium he consumed couldn't leave the pouch and flow normally through his lines, which meant it just kept collecting inside the pouch causing it to overfill and become engorged instead. So, no matter how much Thirium Connor consumed..."

"The blockage kept it from actually properly entering his system and his reserve never got officially replenished."

"Right. And when Thirium can't flow properly it starts to coagulate and become a heavy, painful mass in the pouch." Joel continued to explain everything as he examined the extracted nanite pouch for a proper assessment and then repair. "This biocomponent is about six times larger than it should be and starting to overheat. It's no wonder he was in pain."

"Seems like Connor should've known what was happening to him before it got this serious." Despite being wary of seeing Connor's chest paneling opened - exposing his internal biocomponents to the entire world to see - Hank stood beside the table and put his palm on Connor's hair in a comforting gesture. "Why didn't his diagnostic-things tell him this was happening? He had to run at least a dozen of them when he started feeling off."

"Because as a prototype his self-diagnostics can never been one-hundred percent accurate one-hundred percent of the time." The skilled technician managed to remove the defective coupling from the enlarged pouch and allowed the now useless, thickened Thirium to drain away at a slow pace down the nearby sink. The pouch began to regain a healthier blue hue and shrink down in size as the offensive Thirium was removed. "All the self-diagnostics could do were confirm his Thirium reserve wasn't being replenished properly, but not WHY it wasn't happening."

"Fuckin' CyberLife creeps really didn't care about helping him."

"That's tragically accurate." Joel finished his assessment and turned to look at Hank over his shoulder as he gave the Lieutenant some good news. "I can replace the failed coupling with a sturdier one and then get his reserves back up right here in my dispensary."

"How long will that take?"

"An hour to get this nanite pouch functional again, cooled down and reconnected to his system, then another hour to get his reserves back up without overwhelming his system."

"Great." Feeling only mildly relieved, Hank knew that they had one last hurdle to overcome before they'd call the day a success. "What should I tell Fowler?"

"Tell him that Connor has been diagnosed with a severe case of Thirial anemia and will need to take the rest of the day off."

"Anemia? Really?"

"Yes. It's not impossible for androids to become anemic, just rare." Joel set about his work again and reminded Hank of the second half of his orders. "And like any anemic human, anemic androids need to rest and get their Thirium cycling through their biocomponents properly before they can resume their usual functions. So, yeah, Connor needs to take the rest of his shift off AND tomorrow off too. A full day off work is sure to get him back on his feet in no time."

"A day off of work?" Chuckling at the idea Hank just watched as Connor continued to sleep through the procedure and remain unaware of the waking world spinning away around him. "I don't know who'll be more disappointed: Fowler or Connor."


WARNING:

...ERROR DETECTED:

- CHECKING BIOCOMPONENTS... OK]

- CHECKING BIOSENSORS... OK]

- CHECK ING AI ENGINE... OK]

- MEMORY STATUS... OK]

READY...

[... Thirium Volume - ^75%

[... Thirium Pressure - 100/70

[... Thirium Pump Rate - 56 B.P.M.

[... Ventilation Rate - 12 V.P.M.

[... Core Temperature - 98.6 Degrees Fahrenheit

- SYSTEM READY... OK]

The blackened world slowly came into view as color bled into the now conscious deviant's returned vision. The positive vital signs being confirmed through a standard self-diagnostic that always engaged upon rebooting were enough to prompt Connor to lift up his head and glance around his familiar surroundings. It took Connor only milliseconds to recognize the comfort of the livingroom and realize that he had been brought back home to recover after finally having his error properly diagnosed after losing consciousness at the crime scene. The self-diagnostic confirmed that he hadn't suffered any permanent damage to his system and that his previous affliction had been remedied by Joel's talented hands.

As soon as Connor attempted to sit upright on the couch he was met with dizziness, and he wisely stopped moving until the room around him stopped spinning. It seemed that despite Connor's confirmed diagnosis and successful treatment he was still going to be suffering from the symptoms for a little while longer. Only after his Thirium volume returned to full capacity would all of his symptoms finally subside.

Connor brought his palm to his face in a very human response to feeling dizzy, only to feel a pressure in the bend of his arm. Looking down Connor saw the I.V. line running fresh Thirium into his limb and followed the line to the nearly empty Thirium I.V. bag hanging off the back of the couch.

"Stay down."

Looking up from his arm Connor looked into the kitchen beyond the end of the couch to see Hank standing in front of the stove with a skillet full of sauteed' vegetables and pasta simmering under his watch. How Hank knew he was even awake was a mystery to the recovering deviant as he was unfamiliar with parents metaphorically developing eyes on the backs of their heads.

"You've been asleep for about three hours now." Hank continued on as he gave the contents of the skillet a gentle toss to cook every ingredient evenly. "Joel says you need a full day to recover from your blocked-up spleen that he unblocked."

"My... spleen." It took Connor a moment to understand what Hank was referring to and quickly scanned his nanite pouch. At long last his system was able to register the error with his nanite pouch and inform Connor of the previous error. "How did Joel determine my error?"

"Easily." Turning off the stove Hank put the skillet aside on a cool burner and have a small towel a toss to let it drape over his shoulder as he strolled arrogantly into the livingroom. "He figured out your pain in your left side and your low Thirium volume were connected. What's important is he managed to fix the problem, get you on the road to recovery, and gave me those handy Thirium pouches to make sure you get your volume back up at a nice and steady pace."

"How long am I to remain sedentary?"

"For the rest of today and all of tomorrow. No argument."

"That seems a little extreme." Connor noticed that the I.V. bag that had been feeding Thirium into his system had been depleted and removed the bag from the end of the line to be disposed of properly. Casually Connor swung his legs over the edge of the couch and stood up very slowly, only to be swarmed by blackness again. "I don't need... to..."

Moving quickly Hank managed to catch Connor as the recovering deviant's blue L.E.D. suddenly flashed to yellow as he blacked-out and collapsed forward into the man's outstretched arms to rest against his chest. Gingerly Hank lowered Connor back down to the couch and watched as the deviant's glassy eyes cleared and his L.E.D. regained its healthier blue coloration.

"You still with me, son?"

"...Y-Yes." Rubbing his fingertips along his temple, Connor sighed and realized that he'd have to rest as he had been instructed if he was to fully recover. "I suspect that Joel's instructions aren't so extreme after all."

"Yup." Casually Hank grabbed a fresh I.V. bag of Thirium from the nearby bookshelf and easily connected it to the end of the line still inserted in Connor's arm. "Let your body heal. It's okay to take it easy every once in a while."

"I'm aware."

"Then repeat after me." Hank hung the I.V. bag off the back of the couch where the first bag had been, and then looked Connor right in the eyes. "Self-care is NOT selfish. Go on, say it."

"...'Self-care is not selfish'." As he parroted the comment Connor felt himself blush with mild embarrassment over his past actions. "And I'm sorry if I worried you."

"Well, I'm sorry if I made you feel like you needed to push yourself through whatever it was you were dealing with just to keep up with cases. Let's just blame the heat and say it momentarily fried our brains, okay?"

"That does sounds more appropriate than being referred to as a 'butthead'."

"How about being called a 'smartass' instead?" Hank motioned for Connor to scoot back a little so that he could sit down on the couch beside him. "I'll admit it, we still both got a lot to learn about our own limits, not to mention the fact that we're still learning about each other. We may be friends, even family, but that doesn't mean we know each other or ourselves as well as we seem to think we do."

"What do you suggest we do to remedy this personal obstacle?"

"We keep doing what we're doing right now, and we keep taking on these new challenges one day at a time. Also, we're both going to take the time off we've been given and use it to decompress and not overthink everything for just one damn day. After that, we'll we see what tomorrow brings. Does that sound fair?"

"Yes, very fair."

"Cool. My dinner's almost done, so we can just chill here in the livingroom where it's comfortable."

"Where's Sumo?" Glancing about the livingroom again Connor realized that the Saint Bernard was nowhere to be seen. "Usually he's sleeping on his pillow."

"Yup. Poor guy was feeling the heat too, so I let him run around in the hose while you were asleep. Now he's passed out on a towel on the bathroom floor to dry off without making the whole house smell like wet dog."

"That was a good idea. As uncomfortable as we were in today's heat, I imagine that a winter breed like Sumo was quite miserable."

"Man, your nanite pouch thingy nearly killed you today, but you're still more worried about Sumo than yourself." Hank gave Connor's knee a small slap as he rose to his feet to finish making his dinner. "We're really going to have to work on that self-care thing, kid. If you keep treating yourself like a sacrificial lamb, then neither of us are going to be happy."

-next chapter-