Enjoying the peace and quiet of seldom having the whole house to himself, Hank was sitting in the livingroom recliner with a lamp on over his shoulder as he read an old detective novel that he had already read dozens of times before. Sumo was plopped down over the length of the couch in a deep sleep as the evening wore on in to the late hours with nothing exciting happening. The sound of an autonomous taxi pulling up in front of the house drew Hank's attention away from the book as he listened to the taxi door open and shut shortly thereafter. Footsteps hurried up the front walk and to the front door, and as expected the front door opened quickly as Connor had returned home at the expected hour just as had been communicated via text earlier that morning.

With his dufflebag clutched in his hand Connor hurried through the livingroom and rushed down the hallway where he entered his bedroom without acknowledging Hank upon his return or stopping to look at him. Such a frantic response was very unlike the usually composed deviant, and that behavior immediately raised a red flag in the protective man's mind.

"Connor?"

Hank closed his book and his brow furrowed in confusion as the deviant disappeared from sight and shut the bedroom door behind him with an audible 'click'. The silence was notably out of character for Connor and Hank's paternal instincts told him something had happened.

"Is something wrong?"

Silence.

"Shit. I knew this would be a bad idea..."

Hank steadily rose from the recliner and winced as the sudden weight being applied to his still healing leg caught him off guard. Putting his hand down over the bandages wrapped over his knee, Hank limped down the hallway and knocked on Connor's bedroom door to try to speak with the hiding deviant.

"What's wrong?"

More silence.

"Kid?"

Knocking again Hank raised his voice without letting his tone become aggressive as he tried to get Connor to answer.

"Come on, talk to me. What's going on, son?"

The door's knob slowly turned, and Connor pulled open the door slowly rather than speaking through it. Looking at Hank through a swollen, blackened eye Connor showed the senior detective his bloodied lip, bloodied nose and the numerous bruises he had sustained all over his face. All the while, Connor stood in the door frame his L.E.D. blinked a distressing yellow color and appeared to be trembling after changing into his casual night clothes for the rest of the evening.

"What the hell?" Hank carefully put his hand to the side of Connor's face only to have the deviant flinch away in pain and as if afraid of being touched even before Hank's palm had the chance to touch his cheek. "What the fuck happened? Were you mugged?"

"...No." Connor finally answered, his voice was shaking and very quiet. The response sounded more like a child trying to not cry after being bullied than a detective doing his best to explain his unusual situation. "I wasn't mugged."

"Did someone jump you or start a fight?"

"No."

"Then what happened?" Pressing for answers without sounding angry Hank just waited for the deviant to speak again. "Tell me the truth, that's all I want."

"It's... not important."

"What the fuck do you mean it's not important? Someone beat the hell out of you!"

As he suddenly shouted Hank saw Connor flinching in pain and wincing at the volume of his raised voice. Hank immediately softened his tone as he gently put his hand on Connor's shoulder in a comforting manner. He could feel that there were some swelling bruises forming on Connor's shoulder beneath his palm as well.

"Please, talk to me, son. What happened to you?"

"I..." Connor took in a deep breath and let it out slowly as he finally replied. "What happened was... you were right." There was a sheen of unshed tears building in both of Connor's pained, soulful brown eyes. "I shouldn't have agreed to work at another precinct. Even for a training seminar."

"Are you telling me this- Fuck!" Hank's hand returned to the side of Connor's face, but this time Connor's didn't flinch away. "The other cops did this to you?"

Connor nodded a little to confirm the unsettling question.

"Ah, shit. I'm so sorry this happened." Slipping his hand from Connor's face Hank wrapped his hand around the wounded deviant's shoulder once more and pulled him out of the bedroom and back down the hallway to take care of his wounds. "Come on, son. I'll get you cleaned up."

Remaining quiet Connor allowed Hank to escort him to the kitchen and sat down heavily at the small round table without showing any sign of getting up. Sumo had jumped down from the couch and entered the kitchen to greet Connor as he sensed his deviant master's distress. Pressing his chin and one paw down on Connor's knee the massive dog wagged his tail and kept the pained deviant company.

"Tell me what happened." Hank urged as he walked down the hallway to get to the bathroom to get a clean washcloth and ran it under the cool tap in the sink. He made sure to grab the android unique first aid kit from beneath the sink as well. "Why'd they attack you?"

Connor cleared his throat a little as he watched Hank return to the kitchen and sit down in the chair opposite him at the table. "...Because I'm an android."

"Son of- That's seriously still an issue out in Fort Wayne?"

"Parts of Fort Wayne." Connor clarified as if that would somehow make a difference. "I had apparently been assigned to a precinct in said wrong part."

"Guess so." Using the cool washcloth Hank carefully dabbed at the blue blood staining Connor's swollen lip then wiped the other smears of blood away from his nose. The bruises were clearly made by angry fists, which also meant the assault was personal. "Let me guess, you informed the Captain of what was happening, but he chose not to do anything because you somehow provoked his men with just your presence, right?"

"...Correct."

"Okay. What started it exactly?"

"The other officers were offended that I had been asked to volunteer to shadow their precinct on Captain Fowler's request. When I mentioned that I had only been asked to work at the precinct due to my success record with my cases and that I would be leaving after the weekend, I had apparently 'insulted' them and implied that I was 'superior' to their methods." Sniffing once Connor tried to clear his nose of the lingering Thirium and swelling. "In turn, they insulted me, nothing I haven't heard before," Connor stated in an almost painfully casual manner. "and then they cornered me after I had left the precinct with the intent of hailing the autonomous taxi to bring me home."

"How'd you get away from the fuckers?"

"I fought back and broke the nose of one of the offending officers. When the officer who started the fight had been subdued the other officers carried him back inside and threatened my life. If I didn't leave the city immediately then they'd, and I'm quoting them: 'Break me like the cheap toy' that I am."

"I'll make sure Fowler knows what the fuckers did."

"Don't worry about it." Connor's voice sounded so broken and exhausted. It was as if he believed that he could make the pain stop by forgetting the incident had even happened. "I won't be returning to that precinct, so it's no longer an issue."

"Actually, son," Hank waded up the cool washcloth and pressed it against Connor's swollen eye then put Connor's own hand over it to hold it in place. "it's a very important issue and it's not going away any time soon."

"How so?"

"Because," with purpose in his movements Hank stood up slowly and made his way over to the refrigerator and pulled out two cold beers before pulling down a bottle of Thirium from the cabinet over the sink. "if that's how cops in that city will treat a fellow officer, then that means the bigotry they must be showing to the other possible androids who are now living in the city must be staggering."

"I suppose you're right about that."

"Here." Hank placed the offered Thirium and one of the beers down in front of Connor. "One will make you feel better and the other will only make you think you're feeling better. You trusted me with one beer, and I'm going to do the same for you."

Appreciatively Connor downed the offered Thirium until his volume had been restored to one-hundred percent capacity before he twisted off the cap of the beer bottle and began to sip at the beer Hank had given him. "...Makes replenishing my Thirium a moot point if I'm just going to consume alcohol and dilute it."

"Sounds like a human problem to me. How does it taste?"

"Like... hops. And barley with yeast."

"I wasn't expecting such a literal response, but I'm still not surprised." Opening up the first aid kit Hank took a small wad of gauze and dabbed some orange liquid incrassation compound onto it before lightly pressing the gauze to Connor's swollen, bleeding lip. "Tomorrow, if you're feeling up to it, we'll head to the precinct and make sure Fowler knows to not send you to any precincts outside of Detroit."

"Yes." Wincing a little at the stinging gauze Connor's L.E.D. flashed to red then back to yellow. "I'd prefer to stay here in Detroit, at least for the foreseeable future."

"Yeah, that'd probably be for the best." Putting his hand on Connor's bad shoulder Hank shook the already shaken deviant lightly to reassure him in a comforting manner. He could feel the swelling bruises under Connor's black t-shirt and his first instinct was to find the cop who started the fight and kick his ass in front of his entire precinct. "Things won't always be like this forever, son. I promise."

"You're certain?"

"Yup. There was a time when humanity never saw other humans are equals; either based on their gender, religion, race, sexuality, sexual identity... But that's changed. It definitely takes time, but humans are becoming more and more tolerant with each new generation and will soon enough stop seeing deviants as inferior or secondary citizens. Unfortunately, progress takes time."

"How much time does it take?"

"Honestly?" Hank twisted off the cap of his own beer and sipped it once. It still didn't taste too appealing, which was a good thing. "Too damn long."

"What starts the progress?" Connor sipped a little more at his own beer as he pressed the soothing washcloth even firmer against his sore eye. The cool sensation helped numb the persistent pain. "There must be a trigger to initiate such an action."

"Uh, usually it happens after enough time passes that people see how stupid it is to hate an entire group of people just for existing. But there's also the chance that something new will pop up and the bigots will have something else to hate on. Once they find a new target you and the other deviants will be left alone."

"That doesn't sound very progressive or fair to other people."

"I won't even try to argue with you on that one." Hank sipped more of his beer as he eyed Connor's painfully swollen face with a paternal care. "You're not hurt anywhere else, right? No internal problems or broken frame that a technician needs to see?"

"I'm- Well, I won't say that I'm okay, but I will be okay. I'm only suffering from numerous bruises." Connor admitted as he pulled up the hem of his black t-shirt to expose the dark blue bruises along his chest, stretching up to his shoulders, his back, and down over his torso. The bruises would fade as his self-healing program corrected the damage and stopped the mild Thirium leaks. "I guess they were too weak to actually break anything vital."

"Seems about right. Do those bruises hurt too?"

"No."

"And you can breathe okay. too, right?"

"Correct." Despite the physical assault Connor had managed to avoid any internal damage to his biocomponents. "It'll take a lot more than six ill-tempered humans to take me down."

"Damn straight." The proud father grinned approvingly at the snide comment as Connor replaced his shirt. "Did you at least make a record of everything that happened to you so you can file it in a report?"

"...All of my damage has been chronicled." Connor confirmed in a low voice, almost as if he felt bad for turning over the corrupt cops to dealt with. "Joel can upload the data and the visual schematics as evidence against the officers who assaulted me and assure that it doesn't get conveniently deleted."

"Cool. Finish off your beer and go take a shower to get cleaned up. I want you to lay down with some ice over your bigger bruises and against your eye after that."

"Okay. I will do so." Subtly nodding Connor stood up from his chair, Sumo following after him, and stopped short as he passed by Hank sitting at the table with Sumo right at his heels. Pausing for only a moment Connor found his voice once more before stepping away from his father. "...Hank?"

"Yeah?"

Connor reached out suddenly and wrapped both of his arms around Hank in a tight hug that made his yellow L.E.D. finally flicker back to blue. It was almost as if the hug had a healing property that no one could put into words.

"Thank you for not treating me like I'm worthless." The appreciation was sincere as Connor gave his best friend a warm hug. "Thank you for treating me like I matter."

"Son, you DO matter and you're sure as hell not worthless." Hank reciprocated the hug and lightly patted Connor's back with one hand a few times to comfort him further without touching the bruises by mistake. It wasn't often that the duo had a reason to hug but Hank never let those rare moments pass by. "But you're welcome all the same. And I'm glad you're back home where you belong."

"I am glad to be back home, too. I don't plan on leaving again any time soon."

"Sounds like a plan to me, son." As the hug was finally released Hank lightly put his palm to Connor's chin and examined the damage to the deviant's face. "You recover from this, and we'll help take care of the city tomorrow."


Hot on the trail of a dangerous and desperate suspect Connor ran in a full sprint down the alleyway in pursuit of the fleeing deviant while Hank tried his best to keep up with the two much faster androids. Ultimately Hank trailed behind and struggled to keep up with the foot chase. Easily able to leap over dropped bits of garbage and overturned garbage cans that littered the ground, Connor managed to trap the suspect at the brick wall that closed off the end of the alleyway preventing their possible escape. The enraged, desperate, and potentially crazed deviant was cornered and had nowhere else to go and nowhere to hide as the two detectives encroached on him.

Connor preconstructed any and all possible escape routes that the deviant could take and effectively prepared to cut them off at every possible turn. Unwilling to risk letting the dangerous deviant escape and return to the public streets, Connor boldly held his ground as he confronted the suspect at the end of the dark alleyway.

"STOP." Connor commanded as the deviant turned around and brandished his shining knife at the deviant detective. "Detroit Police. You're under-" Connor stopped short as he recognized the deviant suspect's scarred face and lowered his voice accordingly. This was a unique case that needed to be handled delicately. "...Ralph."

"DO NOT TOUCH RALPH." With his red tinted L.E.D. flickering wildly Ralph pressed his back up against the brick wall while holding the knife out with both hands as if brandishing a sword. "RALPH DOES NOT WANT TO HURT YOU."

"And I don't want to hurt you." The deviant detective replied honestly in a calm tone. "I know what happened at the hotel was an accident. I know you didn't mean to hurt me then and I know that you won't hurt me now. You see," speaking softly and kindly Connor kept Ralph from freaking out anymore than he already was. "I remember you. My name is Connor and I work with the Detroit Police Department, as well as Markus at New Jericho Tower. My job is to protect everyone from being hurt by anyone else. That includes you, Ralph."

Ralph slowly lowered the knife but his L.E.D. remained red in color. "RALPH DOES NOT WANT TO HURT ANYONE, BUT EVERYONE WANTS TO HURT RALPH."

"Not true. No one wants to hurt you." Allowing his training and programming as a hostage negotiator to come into play Connor insisted that Ralph was safe as calmly and sincerely as possible. "Let me help you, okay? I know a place where you can be safe and no one would ever hurt you."

"...C-CONNOR IS LYING TO RALPH."

"No, I'm not."

"YES, CONNOR IS." Ralph raised his knife again as Hank caught up to them at the end of the alley and stood behind Connor. The sight of the fatigued human made Ralph even edgier. "ALL HUMANS WANT TO DO IS HURT RALPH. HE IS HUMAN. HE WILL HURT RALPH. HE IS A HUMAN AND THEREFORE RALPH'S ENEMY."

"And he's my friend." Instinctively Connor planted himself between Hank and Ralph in a protective manner as he tried to ease the tense situation before it escalated any further. The idea of Hank being attacked by a deranged deviant made Connor's heart sink. "Hank would never hurt you or any other deviant, I swear it."

"WHY DOES CONNOR TRUST HANK?"

"Because... Hank took me in. Gave me a home and helps keep me safe." Connor glanced at Hank over his shoulder and silently told the senior detective to follow his lead with a simple glance. "That night at the hotel when you and I fell from the balcony and your knife stabbed me, I was saved because Hank helped me. If he didn't care, then he never would've helped me on that night, and I wouldn't be here right now. Right?"

Ralph lowered his knife a little again, but he kept his one good eye fixed on Hank's every movement. "Ralph admits you are... being honest."

"That's good, I want to be honest with you and I want you to be honest with me. Now, listen carefully. I know you didn't hurt those people in the condemned house where you used to hide." Connor raised a hand to discreetly ask for Hank to keep quiet. "Those were accidents, too. You were afraid and you responded by showing the humans that you were armed, right?"

"RALPH... Ralph doesn't know." The knife lowered further and Ralph's L.E.D. began to blink less frantically and he finally stopped shouting. "Ralph doesn't know anymore. Ralph doesn't remember things well. Ralph is... damaged."

"And I can help you with your damage."

"How? How can Connor help Ralph?"

Thinking quickly Connor reached under his blazer and removed the holster from around his back. Dropping his gun to the ground behind him Connor raised both hands submissively and took a step toward Ralph. "I can access your memory."

"NO." Ralph didn't raise the knife again, instead he pressed his back firmly against the brick wall as if trying to squeeze between the bricks to escape. "Ralph does not want to remember."

"Then I can take away your memories." Connor stepped closer but didn't crowd Ralph in the process. "Would that be okay? I know how it feels to carry around bad memories and how it feels to fear them. Being able to forget them can be beneficial."

"Connor can... make Ralph forget?"

"Yes. But, I'll only do so if you really want me to remove those memories."

"R-Ralph..." Conflicted emotions overwhelmed Ralph and he suddenly dropped the knife with his hands remaining outstretched before him like a statue. "Ralph wants to forget. Ralph wants the pain to go away."

"Okay, then I will help you." The artificial skin over Connor's hand receded as he gently took hold of Ralph's hand. Surprisingly Ralph didn't try to pull his hand back or run, instead he allowed Connor to help him. "Close your eyes, this won't hurt."

Ralph nodded frantically as he closed his eyes and allowed Connor to access his memories while Hank looked on quietly.

"Okay, very good. This won't take long."

Connor's L.E.D. flashed from his a cautious yellow to an alarmed red and he let out a pained gasp as the empathetic connection between his mind and Ralph's mind met with a sudden flash of vivid and painful detail from Ralph's past.


It all happened four and half years prior:

Ralph was tending to the shrubbery at Roosevelt Park as per his protocol as a gardener when a group of teenagers approached him aggressively. The group was made up of six kids, each one holding a weapon in their hands. The group surrounded Ralph and began to push him around and call him hateful names as they taunted him with their weapons.

Despite Ralph's best efforts to logically explain to the group that they should leave him alone to finish his work, it wasn't enough.

Their mockery, their insults, and their taunts were as merciless as their physical strikes.

"Piece of plastic! Let's break his fuckin' head open and see what happens!"

"Tear him open!"

"Fuck him up!"

One by one the kids struck Ralph with baseball bats, pipes and chains. Unable to fight back or call for help Ralph had to endure the physical abuse of the six teenagers as slowly each strike damaged his internal processor, corrupted his memory, destroyed his left eye leaving him partially blind and affected his speech through damage to his voice modulator. As one final swing of the bat cracked along the left side of Ralph's face a gush of blue blood erupted covering the attackers and causing them to back away in disgust while Ralph pressed his hands along his mutilated face as he knelt on the grass in utter horror.

Unable to remember where he belonged or who could help him Ralph could only run away in abject horror as his healing-program tried and failed to repair the damage to his face, his jaw and his eye.

The last true memory Ralph was able to retain was the day he was so horrifically assaulted and mutilated just because a group of kids; all human, got bored one day...


In shocked pain at the intensity of the cruel memories, Connor opened his widened eyes and abruptly let go of Ralph's hand. Doing his best to stay composed and not hyperventilate as the atrocious memories were left in his processor, Connor felt his heart go out to Ralph with deep sympathy. He knew how it felt to be abused by vicious people, but unlike Ralph, Connor was able to find sanctuary and kindness in other people who showed empathy toward other living creatures. In the past Connor had found protection by turning to friends and even family for guidance and support. As for Ralph, he had no one to truly call his own friend or family after being alone for so many years.

Running his shaking hand over the left side of his own face, Connor waited for the pain transference from the memories to fade away before he found the courage to speak up. The intense moment made Connor feel as if his own face had been damaged as well, and such pain was intense and difficult to ignore.

"Ralph feels..." Ralph stared at his exposed hand for a moment before regenerating his artificial skin. "different."

"H-How do you feel, Ralph?"

"Ralph is... not... afraid."

"That's good. That's how it should be." Connor motioned for Ralph to follow him and Hank out of the alleyway and out to the street. "We're going to take you to New Jericho Tower, okay?" Struggling to process that horrific images inside his mind Connor focused on Ralph and keeping the situation under control. "Markus is a friend of mine and he'll look after you."

"...Friend."

"Yes. He'll be your friend, too."

"Ralph... is sorry." Looking toward Hank with a twinge of passing fear Ralph agreed to go with the two detectives and to go peacefully. "Ralph is not well. Ralph wants to be better."

"I know, and I understand." Ever empathetic Connor spoke softly as he and Hank gently escorted Ralph to the Oldsmobile parked along the street three blocks from the alley to be transported to the tower. "I know everything."

Securing his holstered gun around his back again Connor picked up the dropped knife to have it tested for blood to solve cold cases and then be destroyed.

"And now it's over. You're truly free of your past, Ralph. Now all that you have to do is focus on your future."


The safe delivery of Ralph to the isolated tower was a job well done and another case closed. Despite the day's good work Connor remained oddly quiet throughout the rest of his shift, and Hank didn't like it when Connor got too quiet. Whenever Connor was quiet it meant that he was either injured, sick or worse; he was thinking and obsessing over something that he couldn't possibly hope to control. Waiting for a moment of privacy before he addressed the silent deviant, Hank patiently put up with the palpable quiet building between them and only brought up the situation after he and Connor were in the privacy of the car heading home from the precinct to go about their own business.

Trusting his gut as both a detective and a father, Hank decided to speak up first and gauge how Connor responded. He knew better than anyone else that sometimes the best way to begin speaking is by listening to someone else.

"So, what was that all about it?"

"Huh?" Connor had been staring blankly at the dashboard and barely heard Hank speaking to him. "What did you say?"

"That thing between you and Ralph. What the hell was it?"

"I... I saw his memories." The discussion turned Connor's calm blue L.E.D. to yellow as he spoke. "I saw what happened to him and I know how he ended up... damaged."

"Was it that bad?"

"Yes." Connor confirmed with a subtle but somber nod of the head. "He was attacked by a group of armed teenagers over four years ago. He was just doing his job and they did... that... to him for no reason beyond their own demented form of entertainment. Just as the officers in Fort Wayne attacked me."

"Humans can be cruel, you know this."

"Yeah, but, this was-"

"It's okay. Don't try to rationalize it or humans for that matter. You'll drive yourself crazy!"

"I understand why he reacted so strongly and so violently." Such an empathetic bond wasn't once Connor was expecting to feel. "I too have had the temptation to physically lash out when I've been targeted just for being an android. It's not fair to be punished by society just because they decided that you don't fit in."

"You're right, it's not fair. That's why we're detectives who will change that type of bullshit as much as possible."

"Do we have that kind of power?"

"As long as we don't become shitty corrupt cops, yeah, we will."

"You sound so sure of that." Connor shook his head a little with mounting confusion. "Do you think we should've arrested Ralph? He did assault at least seven people over the past four years since he became damaged."

"A deviant labeled crazy would've been destroyed, and the people that we know he had assaulted survived without any permanent injury." Connor was about to say something more when Hank waved his hand casually. "I looked into it after we got back to the precinct, so I know it's not a big deal. Anyway, if Ralph is at New Jericho Tower, then he'll be off the streets away from people, and he'll be getting the help he needs so he can actually recover. If the knife connects him to anything far more serious, we'll deal with it later. There's no point in kicking a man while he's already down."

"I just hope it's not too late for Ralph to be helped. He's been suffering for years, he deserves peace."

"He'll get it, son. And so will you." Hank pulled onto their street and let out a weary sigh as they neared the house. "Do me a favor, will ya'?"

"What's that?"

"Whatever memory it is that you took from Ralph, delete it forever and never question whether or not you did the right thing." Hank hated the idea of Connor carrying around someone else's pain for the rest of his life. "Can you do that?"

Connor's L.E.D. flashed yellow rapidly as he deleted the horrible memory and gave Hank a respectful nod while his L.E.D. returned to a content blue. "Done."

"Good. Those memories aren't important for you or anyone else. They'll just cause pain." As the two detectives neared home Hank decided to make a special trip out to the Piquant Diner to get a little treat and lift their spirits. "You're going to get justice after being attacked in Fort Wayne, and Ralph will finally get the peace he deserves. In just a few years, you'll find your own sense of personal peace too. I swear to it."

"Find peace with what's happened to me in the past," Connor warily challenged as he tried to hang on to hope. "or find peace with the world that continues to resist change and embrace chaos?"

"A little bit of both." With a small smile Hank pulled the car up to the humble diner and motioned for Connor to join him for a quick pitstop. Something as simple as stopping for ice cream and getting away from the world for a few minutes could have a massively positive impact on an aching heart. "And when you get the best of two worlds, then you can make your own unique world just for yourself without any of the worst parts to ruin the experience."

-next chapter-