November 4th, 2040: 09:37pm

There was densely cold chill in the air as early November nighttime fell harshly over the city.

With his L.E.D. flashing in a distressed red Connor gasped in pain as he kept his hand clutched over the bleeding wound in his upper abdomen while dark blue Thirium oozed through his fingers and stained the front of his white dress shirt a dark sapphire blue. Fighting through the pain Connor stumbled for a moment but caught himself with his blood covered hand to keep him from falling, leaving behind a gruesome handprint of his current condition behind on the brick surface. The mark had been left behind just seconds before Connor wandered through the dark alleyway in pursuit of the offensive suspect with utter determination to not let the violent shooter escape into the city.

Trailing drops of blue blood behind him every step of the way, Connor held his gun in a tight grip in his free hand and easily tracked the elusive suspect through the darkness of the chilly night. Reaching a dead end of the long alleyway Connor located the shooter, a violent 'red ice' dealer, backed up against the brick wall with nowhere else to go.

"Freeze!" Connor raised his gun and took aim at the suspect's chest. Snowflakes began to fall from the dark unseen snow clouds in the sky high above as the stand-off between the police and the suspect reached a boiling point. "Detroit Police!"

"Fuck off!" The man barked back as he held up his own gun and threatened to squeeze the trigger for the second time. The man was tall, well built, and very angry as he defied Connor's orders with blatant disrespect and a threatening snarl. "I'm not going back to jail!"

"You're under arrest for illegal distribution of narcotics." The ever astute deviant began to list off the charges in a firm tone of voice as snowflakes clung to the strands of his dark brown hair and melt through the fabric of his gray blazer. The falling snow chilled Connor right to his plastimetal frames. "You're also being charged with the assault and attempted murder of a police officer, fleeing the police and resisting arrest. You have no say in the matter and will return to prison."

"I don't answer to plastic!"

"But you will answer to the law." Running a scan over the man's face Connor uploaded an image to the precinct to issue an A.P.B. while also downloading the man's criminal record: Travis 'The Ice Pick' Verne. A known drug dealer who rivaled Ted 'The Red Ice King' Jones and the late Jack Pillar over ten years ago when the 'red ice' epidemic was at its worst. "Surrender now or I will open fire and subdue you."

"Not before I finish what I started with you!"

Reacting quickly Connor preconstructed a possible outcome for the confrontation and noted that he had four options: The first option had a ninety-two percent success rate if Connor were to duck down and open fire, however it'd leave him with a ninety-eight percent chance of being struck by a fatal shot in the head during the process. Whereas the second option has only a four percent chance of being fatally shot, but it gave the suspect an eighty-seven percent chance to flee if Connor aimed for the shoulder. The third option would keep Connor completely out of harm's way as he moved to the side, but it would undoubtedly give the suspect the chance to flee from sight and do so before back-up arrived. The final option had a better chance of success, but with a worse possible trade off at the expense of Connor's own life.

If Connor held his ground and fired at the suspect's head then Connor would subdue the dangerous suspect with a one-hundred percent success rate, but by doing so he'd leave himself with only a ten percent chance of surviving the bullet wound he'd undoubtedly sustain to his chest in return. None of the deviant detective's options were particularly favorable.

Connor had to choose, and he didn't have the time to think. Reacting quickly, he reluctantly made his decision.

Holding his ground Connor squeezed the trigger and watched as the aimed bullet found its target. The bullet struck 'The Ice Pick' in the middle his forehead creating a massive splash of dark red blood that erupted from the fresh bullet wound in the dangerous drug dealer's head just above his eyes. Before he could react, the drug dealer fired off one final round and Connor felt the second bullet burning through his chest dangerously close to his Thirium pump, his heart, as it came to rest beside the vital biocomponent.

Letting out a deep gasp Connor looked down at his chest where a second blossom of dark blue blood grew over the expanse of his previously white dress shirt at an alarming rate. Red error messages appeared in his visual processors within seconds as Klaxons sounded off in his head in response to the severe damage and now quickly depleting Thirium volume.

Falling to his knees heavily, Connor's hand lost its strength and with it went the gun from his grip. His other hand was still weakly clutching at the bleeding wounds in his chest, his grip becoming slack as more and more blue blood seeped between his trembling fingers. Glancing upward at the dark night sky looming above Connor watched as the snow began to gently fall down all around him and he cybernetically connected to Hank's phone to call for help.

'...H-Hank.'

Even in his own mind Connor's voice was shaking and weak.

'...I need help.'

Collapsing backward onto the cold ground Connor's half-lidded eyes watched the white flakes falling from the perpetual blackness from the sky above him. The cold of the night seeped through his blood soaked blazer and shirt, easily cutting through his artificial skin right down to the white plastimetal frame beneath. Shivering slightly from the cold, a trait that androids only exhibited after deviancy, Connor let out a weak artificial breath and closed his eyes as a trickle of blue blood trailed from the corner of his mouth, down his cheek to the ground beside him.

"...Hank? Forgive me."

Weakness stole his breath as he let himself succumb to his damning wound.

"I didn't m-mean to... go alone."


November 4th, 2040: 09:44pm

The snow was continuing to fall in gentle but thick flakes of utter whiteness throughout the entire city.

Speeding through the icy streets as quickly as he dared, Hank sought his missing partner and barked orders into his radio demanding that patrol continue to circle throughout the neighborhood where Connor had last been seen. As it grew darker, colder and far less habitable in the dropping temperature, Hank began to worry that the intense cold would cause problems for the missing deviant as deviancy gave androids more enhanced physical sensations and sensitivities, particularly to extreme heat and cold. The cold was something that seemed to spell doom to any deviant caught up in the mess and with Connor being a prototype he was especially vulnerable to such thermal complications.

"Damn it, kid."

Gazing through the windshield and side windows of the patrol car as he drove down the vacant street Hank looked for any sign of the missing deviant or the suspect Connor had been pursuing.

"Where are you?"

The radio crackled to life on his belt with the usual white noise of dispatch sending out patrols to emergency calls and updates regarding current calls being handled. Waiting for any comment regarding his missing partner Hank kept his eyes peeled on the streets and slammed hard down on the brakes of the car as his trained eyes caught sight of something unnatural standing out brilliantly against the naturally white snow that was readily blanketing the city.

"Son of a bitch..."

Making an update to dispatch Hank threw the car into park and opened the door before rushing over to the sidewalk and examining the icy cold brick surface of the building leading to a dark alleyway. A smear of blue blood in the shape of a left palm print made Hank's heart sink with a weighty fear as he just knew that the blood belonged to his missing partner - his adopted son.

Trailing his index fingertip over the blood Hank found it was still fresh and still a little warm, but it was cooling off quickly and beginning to coagulate before it'd evaporate in a few hours. Such details confirmed that newly damaged android had passed by the alleyway very recently.

"Shit. Connor?"

Moving deeper into the alleyway Hank hovered his hand over the gun holstered on his right hip instinctively as he ventured into the darkness of the alley in search of the wounded android. Following the bright blue Thirium droplets shining through the fresh layer of recently fallen white snow Hank caught a whiff of gunpowder and the sinking feeling in his heart suddenly settled like a lead brick in his stomach.

Walking deeper into the depths of the alley Hank was greeted by the sight of a body in the alleyway with a puddle of fresh red blood spreading under their head. Even from the distance Hank could see the man's face and knew he was the suspect that Connor had been chasing when he asked for back-up. Turning his head slightly Hank felt his heart skip a beat as he saw Connor laying on the cold ground a few feet away from the dead man in a steadily growing puddle of his own blue blood beneath his nearly motionless body. The only life he saw in Connor came in the form of the slowly blinking red L.E.D. in the deviant's temple.

"C-Connor?!"

Rushing over to where the deviant was laying on the cold ground Hank fell to his knees and warily eyed the two bleeding wounds in Connor's chest and abdomen that were barely concealed under the deviant's icy hand. Putting his palm beneath Connor's head Hank lifted his son up from the cold ground and used his opposite thumb to wipe away the smear of blood running down the side of Connor's mouth.

"Can you hear me?"

The deviant's eyes were still closed, and his chest was barely moving as he struggled to take in artificial breaths to regulate his body temperature.

"Please, son," the sincere pleading to Hank's voice was painful to hear. "look at me."

A weak fluttering of Connor's heavy eyelids revealed his soulful brown irises as the deviant regained consciousness just long enough to look up at Hank's face and give the senior detective very weak but sincere smile. "...Hank."

"Hey, kid." Giving Connor an equally weak and sincere grin as lightly let go of Connor just long enough to shrug off his heavy dark coat from his arms. Draping the warm garment over Connor's bloody body Hank resumed holding Connor up from the cold ground, the motion causing the deviant to let out a weak hiss of pain and hold Connor up against his shoulder and chest to try to comfort him. "How bad are you injured?"

"...B-Bad enough." Connor tried to ignore the metallic taste of the drying blue blood staining his lips as he spoke. The simple act of breathing was causing him horrific pain that he couldn't even react to as his chest barely shuddered with his weakened breaths. "I need... r-repairs."

"Yeah, I figured as much. Just hold on, okay? Back-up knows where I am, and they'll send an ambulance when they see your blue blood on the street."

"...It'll be t-too late."

"What?" Hank absentmindedly tightened his hug around Connor as he tried to calm his own racing heart, knowing that the deviant would instantly pick up on his distressed and worried vital signs. "What do you mean it'll be too late?"

"I will shut down in... sixteen minutes, twenty-one seconds." Sluggishly Connor explained his situation as he blinked slowly and swallowed the blue blood collecting in the back of his throat. "...The ambulance will arrive... in twenty-three minutes and fifty-one seconds."

"Hey, it'll be okay." The senior detective had to fight to keep his voice from shaking as he spoke. "I'll get you some help."

Closing his eyes as tears escaped in heavy, fearful streams Connor pressed his face up against Hank's arm as he leaned into the hug. "...I'm not ready to die. I don't want... t-to go."

"You're not going to die." It was as if Hank had just been challenged to a fight and he was determined to win. Looking about the alleyway as if he could somehow find a solution to his current problem, Hank did everything he could to remain calm and composed. "I'm going to get you through this. We've been through worse, remember?"

"...I'm sorry."

"Sorry? What for?"

"...I know you don't like me w-working alone. I should've waited for back-up." Coughing a little Connor wheezed and let out a gasp of pain that made his shudder harshly. "...This is my fault."

"Shh... It's not your fault. You didn't do anything wrong." Glaring over at the corpse at the end of the alleyway Hank tightened his hug around Connor's body and tried to keep the deviant from shutting down as he soothed his worries in a paternal tone of voice. "You're just dedicated and stubborn. And right now, that stubbornness is going to help you pull through this night, just as it has done more times than I can count in the past."

"...I'm glad you're here." Forcing himself to speak up even as his voice began to fail him, Connor was determined to let Hank know his true feelings. "I... I'm glad you were my friend and I'm proud to c-call you my father."

Fighting the urge to break down and begin weeping Hank just held onto his adopted son in a tight hug and steadied his voice. "I'm proud to have you as my son. I'm just plain proud of you, I mean it. I'm so very proud of you and everything you've accomplished."

The deviant didn't respond as his body steadily went limp and pressed heavily against Hank's chest.

"Connor?"

Rubbing his hand along the back of Connor's head, his fingers running through Connor's dark locks of hair, Hank tried to get a response from the now unconscious deviant.

"Son?"

Daring to lower Connor down from his protective grip Hank looked at the deviant's pale face as Connor's low Thirium volume cause his artificial skin to thin out and allow his white plastimetal frame peer through.

"Please talk to me."

Connor's head lolled to the side and came to a rest against Hank's shoulder again.

"No, kid. You're not going to survive a Raid, the Revolution, countless bigots, viruses, glitches, criminals and a damn car accident just to die from this."

Adjusting his arms Hank repositioned himself so one arm was wrapped around Connor's upper back and the other arm was under the deviant's knees. Scooping Connor up into his arms Hank rose from the cold snowy ground to carry Connor out of the alleyway and back to the patrol car parked on the street.

"I'm not going to let you die tonight, Connor. I won't bury another son - I swore to that once already, and I'm not going to go back on my word."

Rushing out of the alleyway and out to the street Hank managed to fumble with the handle of the passenger side door, his palm leaving behind a slick stain of blue blood all over the side of the door in the process, and he placed Connor down gently in the front passenger seat. The deviant didn't respond to being moved or Hank's voice as the senior detective placed him down inside the warm car to be taken to the nearest facility.

"Hold on, son."

Moving to the driver's side of the car Hank turned pulled away from the alley while he kept his right hand pressed down firmly over the center of Connor's chest to try to apply pressure to the deviant's bleeding wounds.

"I gotcha'. You'll be okay. You've survived worse and you're going to keep on surviving."


November 4th, 2040: 09:51pm

The four leaders of New Jericho Tower were taking stock of their inventory and of the progress being made with android rights in the tower's central office after two years of changes when Josh was notified by security cameras of a vehicle traveling down the long drive out to Belle Isle at an alarming speed. After recognizing the vehicle as a patrol car and recognizing Hank, their most trusted human ally, behind the wheel of the speeding car, the empathetic deviant sensed that something terrible had just happened. Seeking out Markus to inform him of the emergency situation, Josh informed the deviant leader of the situation at hand in a calm and composed tone of voice.

Markus himself was still beaming with energy after being bonded with North and was unaware of Hank's sudden arrival at the tower. There was seemingly nothing that could bring down Markus's good mood until that very minute.

"Markus," speaking up in a sharp voice of voice Josh quickly had the entire room's attention. "right now, Hank is racing down the drive to the tower, and I can't reach Connor to ask what's happening."

The mismatched eyes of the deviant leader went wide with fear as he fully understood Josh's trepidation.

"Come with me, we'll meet him outside." Turning to look at North sitting on the white leather sofa beside Simon, Markus gave his beloved and new bride a quick order to ensure everything remained under control. "Take charge of the tower until we know what's going on. Simon," turning his attention next to the blond technician, Markus gave him an order as well. "head into the emergency repair bay and get ready to handle a possible incoming case."

Simon nodded as he rose from the sofa and headed toward the office door. "Right away, Markus."

North got up from the sofa and gave Markus's hand a quick squeeze. "Do what you have to do. I'll handle everything else so you can figure out what's going on."

Taking their leave of the office Markus and Josh walked across the pristine white lobby of the tower and reached the front doors in a swift graceful gait side by side. Stepping through the automatic sliding front doors the duo was bathed in the warm, yellow lights of the incoming vehicle's headlights as Hank sped down the drive to reach his destination.

Markus ran a cybernetic scan on the vehicle from where he was standing and immediately picked up on the weak vital signs of a single android in the front seat of the car. The vitals were registered to the only active 'RK-800' model currently in Detroit; it was Connor.

"Damn it. Connor's been damaged." Markus confirmed as the car came to a stop before the tower and Hank threw the car into park. "It's severe."

"How severe?"

"From here I can detect that his Thirium loss is down to sixty-four percent." The kindhearted deviant leader confirmed as he and Josh walked over to the car just as Hank threw open his own door and rushed to the other side of the car to get to the passenger side door and to Connor. "I think a main Thirial line was compromised."

"Shit..."

Markus met Hank at the opened passenger side door as the senior detective tried to pick Connor back up and hold him tightly in his arms. "What happened to him?"

"He was shot." Came the succinct, eerily calm reply. As Hank held Connor up in his arms and against his chest, he forced himself to look away from the Connor's blank, pale face as Connor's head came to a rest against his broad shoulder for support. "Twice."

Eyeing the dark coat covering Connor's chest Markus lifted up the garment and peered down at the sickening amount of lost blue blood that had seeped into Connor's clothing at a disturbing rate. "How long ago?"

"I don't know, maybe ten, fifteen minutes."

"Okay, we'll get him patched up." Pressing his palm down over the center of Connor's bloodied chest Markus registered Connor's vital signs and relayed them to Simon in a cybernetic line of communication. Wincing inwardly at the weak vitals Markus tried to remain as composed as possible. "He's going to need Thirium replacement and extensive repairs to the main right ascending Thirial line."

Hank rushed into the tower as quickly as possible as Markus and Josh escorted him to the elevator. While Markus summoned the elevator to take them to their designated floor Josh decided to report to North and inform her of what was happening.

"I'm going to update North on what's going on." Josh stated in a somber voice as he worriedly took a step back from his wounded friend covered in his own spilled blood. "...I'll also go through our contacts in case we need additional supplies sent to the tower."

Markus gave Josh a single nod of his head as he and Hank entered the elevator together. Removing his hand from Connor's chest Markus stared down at the raw wounds and watched with righteous horror as blue blood steadily wept from the two bullet wounds that were threatening to cause irreversible shutdown with the deviant detective's processors.

"He's very weak, but he's stable."

The doors slid shut and the elevator began to move.

"Markus, how bad is he?" Hank dared himself to ask as the elevator began it's descent to sublevel fifty-one at a steady clip. "Be honest."

"...His shutdown timer is at eight minutes and eighteen seconds." The ticking clock was only visible to deviant eyes. "We need to move quickly if we're going to save him."

"We will save him." The senior detective stated in flat voice as he glanced down at the deviant in his arms, watching the blue blood still pooling over Connor's chest and a fresh trickle of blue blood run down the deviant's chin from over his lip. "I won't give up on him, just as he would never give up on me."

The elevator reached its destination and Hank stepped through the parted doors to enter the emergency repair bay with Connor laying limp and nearly lifeless in his arms. Carrying Connor over to a nearby exam table Hank laid his bleeding, dying partner; his adopted son, down over the surface with the same gentle motion as any father would show their hurt child.

"You'll be okay, son." Hank promised as Simon walked over to the table and pushed aside the heavy coat to view the wounds for himself. The dark blue blood was blossoming at a staggering rate despite the deviant having bled heavily for the past fifteen or so minutes already. Putting his hand over Connor's forehead Hank gently rubbed his thumb and back and forth through Connor's snow damp hair as he spoke. "You're going to make it."

Simon did his best to temporarily disconnect himself from the reality that was him fighting to save the life of a friend and not a stranger. Pulling open the blood soaked dress shirt button by button Simon visibly tensed as he saw the location and depth of the two wounds and ran a scan over Connor's chest and abdominal cavities.

"The first bullet struck the edge of his gyroscope and ricocheted around his body." Simon observed as Markus set about helping Hank to remove Connor's tie, ruined dress shirt and gray blazer. "The left ventilation biocomponent suffered seven percent damage from the impact, while the initial bullet entry detached the main Thirium line running from his spinal support column to his thermal regulator. The second bullet," the blond technician was pressing his fingertips along the edges of the bullet wound to palpate the area. "nicked the main right ascending Thirial line directly linked to his Thirium pump."

Hank wasn't an expert on android physiology. No matter how many times Connor tried to explain the basics he still struggled to retain the information, but he did remember that the Thirium pump was the android equivalent to the heart.

"...The bullet damaged his heart?"

"Yes, but I can repair it since the damage is minimal. I just need to work fast." The blond technician confirmed as he placed his left fingertips to Connor's temple where the deviant's L.E.D. was still glowing red, then put his palm down over the center of Connor's torso. Manually Simon deactivated Connor's artificial skin over his chest and abdomen to get a clear view of the damaged white plastimetal frame beneath. "Markus, I could use some help."

"You got it." Turning to look at the worried senior detective Markus put his hand to Hank's upper arm and held his palm there for a moment. "Hank, you can wait in the community room. As soon as Connor's out of emergency repairs I'll come and get you."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"You know these types of repairs mirror human surgery." The deviant leader reminded Hank calmly. "You don't want to see it."

"I'm not leaving him. Do what you need to do and I'm going to do the same."

There wasn't any time to reason, or in the case of the stubborn detective, argue. Relenting to Hank's decision Markus proceeded to take sterilized white sheets from a nearby supply cabinet and draped one over Connor's upper chest, above the first wound, and draped a second over Connor's abdomen below the second wound.

"Okay." Simon ordered in a sympathetic tone. "Just stand back and give us room to work."

To ensure that Connor's system didn't overheat while enduring such extensive and delicate repairs Simon ran an external air intake line down Connor's throat and attached the line to an external ventilator. The machine breathed for Connor on the wounded deviant's behalf, forcing his damaged chest to rise and fall with a calculated and steady rhythm.

"He's going to need a lot of blue blood."

The skilled technician announced as he then proceeded to place a wireless sensor pad down in the middle of Connor's chest and turned on the Thirial activity monitor. Connor's Thirium pump beat; his heart rate, was elevated while his Thirium volume and pressure were both low. His body temperature had remained consistently normal thanks to the cold weather preventing any of his biocomponents from overheating, but that was seemingly the only stable vital sign he exhibited.

"I'm going to start two lines of Thirium in both arms."

"I'll get the blue blood." Markus volunteered as he stepped away from the table and made his way to the supply cabinet. "You start repairing the damage."

Refusing to budge Hank stayed by Connor and stared down at his adopted son's face with his dark blue eyes restraining his paternally worried tears for the future of the deviant. Being shot down by a worthless drug dealer was an all-too-common occurrence for law enforcement, but for Connor being shot down after enduring and surviving everything that he had gone through before and after his deviancy; the Raid, the Revolution, the betrayal of CyberLife, returning to the precinct, helping to found and protect New Jericho, hunting numerous bigots and solving hundreds of cases, developing and understanding his emotions...

To let Connor succumb to a bullet wound was beyond intolerable and would be completely unacceptable.

"I know you can't respond right now," Hank stated in a low voice as he turned away from the sight of Simon working to open up Connor's chest and abdominal cavities, causing a gush of blue blood to pour over the table in the process. "but I think you can still hear me. Don't worry about anything, okay? You're going to be patched up and when you wake up, you'll be as good as new. You've survived worse and you've kept me from falling apart. Just hold on a little longer and you'll be all right."

Markus and Simon silently exchanged glances at the comment as they proceeded to use every skill that had learned from their time hiding out in Jericho and founding New Jericho to save their people from otherwise irreparable damages. It didn't take long for Simon to tie off the bleeding lines and locate the two offending bullets, but it did take him a while to successfully extract the two bullets without causing further trauma in the process.

"...Markus," Simon whispered as he remained focused on his delicate task at hand. "I need you to suction out the residual blue blood so I can see better."

"I'm on it."

As if in a trance Hank stayed beside the exam table and continued to watch over Connor as the deviant endured the extensive repairs required to save his life. In that moment the very feeling of helplessness as his son suffered from traumatic injuries truly haunted Hank as he couldn't help but think of the night of the accident that had taken Cole's life in a brutally cold, tragic manner.

"...Hold on, son." Hank whispered as well as he ignored the world around him and focused solely on Connor. "Just hold on for me."


November 4th, 2040: 09:54pm

The reported incident prompted the precinct into investigating the situation to confirm whether or not the shooting had been justified in taking down the suspect. Gavin and Tina walked into the alleyway as they unknowingly followed Connor's trail of blue blood and located the body of their fleeing drug dealer laying in a puddle of his own dark, coagulated red blood at the far wall. Examining the scene and seeing the single shot that had taken down the 'Ice Pick' in a brutally effective manner, Gavin checked the dead man's gun then Connor's gun to count the shots fired. Two shots from the drug dealer and just one shot from Connor. In that moment Gavin decided that the case was solved, and no further investigation was needed.

By all account the shooting was clean and justified.

"Looks like Hank or the 'Tinman' took down that asshole and saved the taxpayers a lot of money."

"Neither Connor or Hank radioed it in." Tina noted as she used her own radio to check with dispatch on the possible call. "Maybe some other rival recognized our dead man and got in a lucky shot."

"Maybe, but I wouldn't-" Gavin's brow furrowed a little as he saw a smear of dark blue blood just barely visible under a layer of the freshly fallen snow which seemed to be covering a previous encounter. Walking over to the curious point of interest he knelt down and used his hand to wipe away a thin layer of the snow without disturbing the material underneath. "Shit. Hey, Tina. Come here."

"What'd ya' find?"

"What does this look like to you?"

"Blue blood." Kneeling down beside her partner Tina eyed the massive dark blue puddle for only a moment before she felt a knot form in her stomach. "That's without a doubt blue blood."

"Yeah. A Hell of a lot more than the few drops that led us down here. There was a deviant seriously hurt back here and we just missed 'em."

"Do you think it was Connor?"

"...If it was," Gavin stood upright and brushed the snow from his knee as he retraced their steps leading back out to the street. "then he couldn't have gone far."

"The Lieutenant had made a call saying he may have found Connor after they lost track of each other during the chase. Maybe he really did find him."

"And got him to safety." Gavin deduced expertly with the little evidence they had to work with. "Hank must've taken him to a facility."

"There's no way Hank would bother calling the precinct while his partner was wounded." Tina noted the previous times Hank took care of a downed officer in the field without so much as blinking. "He never does."

"Fuck. I'll call Chris and see if he'll check the android facilities and confirm if Connor was admitted as a vic- er, patient."

"Okay." Gripping the microphone of her radio attached to her jacket collar Tina gave her partner a subtle nod. "I'll get C.S.I. out here and keep people from contaminating the scene."

"What's to contaminate?" Gavin asked sarcastically as he looked over at the dead body and grimaced. "There's nothing but useless garbage back here."


November 4th, 2040: 10:27pm

The emergency repairs were finished and declared a success by Simon as he finished the final touches and restored Connor's biocomponents and his Thirial lines to their optimal parameters. Working as fast as he did had surely saved Connor's life, but in turn it left Simon feeling utterly exhausted and ready to drop right where he stood. Knowing that Connor was stable and just needed to rest, Markus showed the worn-out technician out of the emergency repair bay to rest in private, as well as to give Hank some privacy to speak with his son as Connor himself remained unconscious and slowly recovering in the emergency repair bay with his protective father right at his side.

Sitting down in the chair beside the table, a small comfort provided by Markus himself, Hank kept his right hand on the back of Connor's arm as the healing deviant remained unresponsive and quiet in the modest bed and failed to acknowledge Hank's presence. How Connor could go from very much alive to standing on death's doorstep so regularly left Hank's mind and stomach reeling.

With his L.E.D. pulsing slowly in red Connor seemed to be asleep but in actuality he was in a form of deep stasis mode. The ventilator that had been forcing Connor to breathe had been removed once the repairs had been finished, and in its place was a tube running down Connor's throat delivering fresh Thirium directly into Connor's artificial stomach to help restore the blue blood he had lost after being shot twice.

The excessive blue blood that had been lost was wiped away from Connor's chin and mouth and from over his chest and abdomen after having his wounds repaired. Now with his artificial skin replaced over his chest and abdomen Connor seemed more like himself, but his skin was still paler than usual and would remain as such until his power level returned to one-hundred percent, and his self-healing program was no longer running at maximum capacity. As his chest rose and fell steadily the gauze wrapped around the repaired bullet wounds in his chest and upper abdomen remained white and pristine, which meant his wounds were staying closed and no longer bleeding.

Fiddling with his phone in his free hand Hank managed to send a text to the precinct to inform everyone on call that Connor had been wounded and taken to New Jericho Tower for treatment. He also confirmed the clean shooting and death of their wanted drug dealer in the same alleyway where he had found Connor bleeding out. Not waiting for a reply Hank tucked the phone in his pocket and watched over Connor with a worried, but patient stare.

"I just told the precinct about the shooting."

Hank stated in a level voice as he waited for Connor to wake up.

"You did good, son. You took down a very dangerous man and saved countless lives tonight."

Moving his hand up from Connor's arm to the deviant's hair Hank resumed gently rubbing his hand through the dark locks of soft hair. It was a gesture that had been ingrained in his deeply seated paternal instincts that hadn't faded even after he had lost Cole. Tending to his firstborn son whenever he was sick or injured was something that Hank had never forgotten, and a part of him was actually happy to be able to show the same empathetic gesture to another person he was proud to call his son.

"Just so you know, you don't have to be sorry for taking off in pursuit of that asshole without me. You were just doing your job and you're damn good at it."

As Connor breathed slowly and deeply, he remained completely unresponsive and quiet under his adoptive father's vigil.

"You don't have anything to worry about." Glancing down at his phone's screen again Hank sighed and noted the late hour of the night. "It's just past ten-thirty. Good thing we have tomorrow off, huh, kid? We're both going to need it."


November 4th, 2040: 10:32pm

Further up within the tower Simon had been shown to his personal quarters to rest by Josh, who was keeping an eye on him just in case he too needed some attention, while Markus met with North in the main office on the ground floor to let her know what had happened. While explaining that Connor had been shot taking down a drug dealer and had nearly died from the significant wounds, North just shook her head despondently as she crossed her arms over her chest with absolute disdain all over her face. She loathed humans abusing deviants and knowing that humans would abuse their own kind for selfish reasons just made it all the more difficult for her to see them as anything but savage creatures despite having formed a trustworthy bond with Hank.

It seemed that every time the humans took a step forward toward redemption and progress, a spiteful, bigoted attacked pull all of humanity back two full steps. It was a frustrating pattern and one that the deviants had quickly grown weary of witnessing.

"Connor was almost killed by a human who had already killed other humans by peddling his glorified poison." North was evidently upset and wasn't afraid to let her disgust be known. "Why the hell does Connor keep doing that to himself? It seems like more humans are eager to do something foolish and get themselves killed than the humans who can appreciate their lives. Why risk himself for the ungrateful masses?"

"Because Connor is working to protect the city as a whole, not just the humans." Markus clarified as he reached out his hand and took North's hand in his grip as she reluctantly dropped her arms from over her chest. "He's protecting us, too."

"I know, I know..." She squeezed Markus's hand and stepped closer to him as she tried to settle her nerves. "I just hate that after all this time we're still hiding and fighting just to survive. It's been almost two years since the Revolution, an anniversary we've been trying to plan for months now but keep getting warned to back off from because of bigots looking for a fight. How in the hell can we keep holding out heads up high and acting like the world is progressing when one of our own keeps risking his life just to keep the city from tearing itself apart every night?"

"We can do it with confidence and knowing that we're not going to stop fighting for our rights. We're so close to achieving true peace. There's only a handful of bigots with enough power left in the city to be a threat to anyone anymore." Ever the optimistic Markus refused to give up while they were so close to a peaceful resolution at long last. "The humans have rallied behind us and have given us tremendous support during our time since the Revolution."

"You seem so sure of everything."

"I am sure." Giving North a kiss Markus wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her up against his chest for a full hug. As she leaned her head against his chest Markus felt her leaning fully against him as she returned the hug. "Peace is just around the corner. I can feel it."


November 4th, 2040: 11:07pm

The precinct had the 'fun' of dealing with the aftermath of the shooting and knew that in the morning Internal Affairs would be nosing around to try to condemn a police officer for doing their job all because one dangerous criminal was killed after trying to elude the police. Once it was known that Connor, a deviant android, had been responsible for the shooting death of a human criminal, everyone in the precinct was certain they'd either try to punish Connor for his deed or parade him around like a hero just to pander to the deviants in the city. Either way, it was a sickening thought and would be a blatant show of disrespect for everything Connor had done for the city.

No truly good detective wanted to boast about needing to take a life in the name of justice.

"Shit, this is why it's such a pain in the ass when officers deal with suspects alone." Gavin griped as he rubbed his hand over his forehead as a painful headache readily set in. "Why couldn't there be a single witness to the shooting to get this shit settled?"

Chris spoke up from his neighboring desk with a somewhat beneficial solution. "You do know that Connor can record everything he sees, right? So he can just show those I.A. rats everything that happened in real time."

"Since when does I.A. take an officer of the law simply at their word or bother to acknowledge their flawless record?"

"Yeah, good point."

Tina walked back to her desk across from Gavin and handed him a mug of unsweetened black coffee to drink. "Want to know something even better? That alleyway had security cameras installed two months back. Everything was recorded in perfect detail. There's nothing that can be used against Connor."

"You saw the footage?" Accepting the mug Gavin gave Tina a somewhat amused glance. "It was a good shooting?"

"Yeah, I saw it. I'm lucky to have some connections of my own, you know."

"Well?"

"Keep your pants on, the surveillance footage was already uploaded to your terminal." As she took a sip of her own warm tea Tina nodded at Gavin's terminal screen a few feet away. "And yeah, I saw it. Connor gave the suspect the chance to surrender and told him what he was being charged with. The idiot already had his gun drawn and pointed at Connor and made the first shot before Connor opened fire. It was in fact a good, clean shooting."

"That helps." Sighing with relief Gavin sipped his coffee and let his tense shoulders relax. "As soon as Hank and the 'plastic wonder' get back here we can get this case closed up and tell I.A. to shove it up their asses when they're done."


November 4th, 2040: 11:26pm

Staying loyally beside the bed in the recovery wing of the repair bay, Hank watched as Connor continued to remain in stasis mode - a deeper form of rest mode - and didn't budge even as Hank spoke to him in a calm voice to ensure he heard a trusted friend speaking to him even as he healed. Unsure of what else he could say after explaining that everything at the precinct was being taken care of by Gavin, Tina and Chris, Hank's train of thought ended up going toward his firstborn son, Cole, and how much that horrible cold night reflected the past now five years of his own life. A life that may not have continued on for much longer if it hadn't been for Connor showing up out of the blue.

It was amazing to realize that just as Hank couldn't imagine his life without Cole being a part of it, he could now say the same thing about Connor.

"I'm glad you're still here, son. I honestly don't know what I would've done if you didn't make it."

Connor remained peacefully asleep on the bed and still didn't stir from his rest.

"When you said that you weren't ready to die that... Shit. That scared me. That honestly, with all my experience and hardened life as a detective, truly scared me. I don't ever want to hear your voice shaking like that ever again."

Feeling utterly exhausted and just needing a moment to come to terms with what had happened, Hank leaned back in the chair but kept one hand on Connor's arm as he began to submit to the prospect of sleep. This time Hank knew that when he closed his eyes that he'd awaken in the depth of the tower and not a hospital bed wondering what had befallen his son.

"Shit. We've known each other for two years and I swear you're still the same dedicated, stubborn, bullheaded, fearless kid I was assigned to work with before the Revolution."

Smirking a little to himself Hank let out a small sigh and reached his hand into the pocket of his still Thirium stained coat draped over the back of his chair and pulled out a small silver box that contained a single item from the garment.

"If I hadn't met you, then I would've drowned myself in a bottle of cheap whiskey with a bullet in my brain to weigh me down."

Returning the box to his pocket Hank relented and allowed sleep to take him away.

"Glad you convinced me to stick around a while longer and see what this fucked up world still has to offer and change."

Hank rubbed his fingers over his tired eyes and tried to de-stress as much as possible after the incredibly stressful day.

"As much as I'd love to have a drink right now, I won't slip up. I promised I wouldn't drink any more and I promised that I wouldn't bury another son. And I'm bound and determined to keep my word."


November 4th, 2040: 11:47pm

Returning to full power Simon crept down to the fifty-first sublevel to check in on Connor as he recovered, and did so without being intrusive as he entered the private room. Being accompanied by Josh, the now physically recovered technician was met with the sight of Hank dozing lightly in the chair beside the bed while Connor, who had remained stable since his arrival at the tower, was still completely unconscious. It was a sweet sight since it showed that the two detectives were truly close as friends and really did see one another as family. It was just unfortunate that Connor was wounded and Hank was mentally exhausted during the moment, but that didn't make it any less impactful.

Lightly Simon lifted up Connor's eyelids one at a time and shined his penlight down into the soulful brown irises and was relieved to see that his visual processors still accurately reacted to the light. The response confirmed that Connor's intracranial processor was still fully functional and intact.

"Good sign. His processors are still online." Gently Simon pulled the Thirium line out of Connor's throat and put it aside as Connor's vital signs stabilized entirely and his Thirium volume reached one-hundred percent capacity. Simon whispered as he turned to look at Josh with a hopeful stare. "He should awaken in approximately ten minutes. Should we wake up Hank?"

"No, let him sleep." The intuitive deviant had been spent years around groggy college students and knew that sleep was the key to handling stress. "I can't imagine running around the streets chasing down dangerous people all day long. They both have to be exhausted."

"I wish I knew a little more about human physiology so we could help out Hank out from time to time, too. I mean, I'm good with little kids and their needs, but human adults are very different."

"Markus did have that small kitchenette installed in the community room. Why don't we make him some coffee?"

"That's a good idea."

"Come on." Josh put his arm around Simon's shoulders as he led the blond technician to the elevator to return to the ground floor. "If we can put a Thirium pump back together then I think one of us should be able to make a descent pot of coffee."

"I sure hope so." Simon smiled hopefully as the idea of undertaking such a simple task seemed like a walk in the park compared to the emergency repairs that he had just performed. "It's been years since I've made coffee for anyone, but I think I can still manage to do it."


November 4th, 2040: 11:56pm

Sighing loudly to herself in raw frustration North had been cybernetically tracking the news and hated that the report on the shooting was already being labeled as police brutality. It was only after the precinct itself gave a statement proving that the shooting was clean, even providing access to the security footage as proof, and that the officer acted with just cause against a known violent criminal, did they back off and change the subject away from something less dreary to avoid getting labeled as fear mongers. It was ghoulish seeing how quickly the media lost interest in the shooting once they were able to substantiate the incident as justified and not controversial.

The fickleness of humanity was as exhausting as it was destructive.

"I think I know why Hank refers to news reporters as 'vultures'." North stated as she opened her eyes and looked up at Markus as they laid together in the bed of their shared private quarters. "All they do is look for death and malice to report. Any time someone does something good in this city it gets pushed to the side so they can try to label someone else as a pariah or a villain."

"I know. I hate it, too." Rubbing his hand up and down North's arm as she cuddled up against his side Markus just tucked his other arm under his head and remembered what Carl said about reporters. "Whenever Carl and I went to exhibits showcasing his work, he would always get hounded by reporters trying to get him to gossip about other artists or talk about the car accident that left him paralyzed. Controversy and drama is what brings in the ratings."

"Too bad they couldn't be bothered to tell our story before the Revolution. All the horror stories of the 'Eden Club' would've given them enough bleak material to work with for the next ten years."

"That horrible place is gone and our people are free. We can see the light in the darkness and as long as we don't let that surrounding darkness overcome us then I know we'll be okay."

"You're right." Pressing her head down against Markus's chest North closed her eyes and listened to the steady sound of Markus's heartbeat. A heartbeat that only continued on courtesy of another deviant's past sacrifice. "In one week it'll be the two-year-anniversary of our freedom. We should do something to commemorate it rather than simply acknowledge it and update the tower's records or have another ceremony by the monument."

"That's a good idea." Picking up North's hand Markus intertwined her fingers with his and kissed the back of her hand. "We should take the time to sit down and really appreciate who we were, where we came from, who we've become and where we're going."

"Sounds perfect to me."

"Everyone of us has a story to tell. Why keep it to ourselves?"


November 5th, 2040: 12:02am

Despite his overwhelming exhaustion Hank was gently roused by the smell of fresh coffee filling the air and he couldn't ignore it. Opening his bloodshot eyes, he glanced over at the small table beside the bed and chair and saw the steaming mug sitting idle with the fresh dark coffee. Unsure of where the coffee had come from Hank rubbed his palm over his tired face and picked up the mug. After the mug was lifted up from the table the motion revealed a small note with perfect 'CyberLife Sans' handwriting over top that had been leaning against the side of the mug. The message had been left behind to explain the coffee's mysterious appearance and reassure Hank that he wasn't going through tragedy of Connor's shooting alone.

'Hope the coffee helps. -Simon.'

Smirking at the note Hank sipped the coffee and was impressed that it was sweetened to his liking. "So glad all deviants understand the important of caffeine for humans. That's the best way to keep the peace between our people for generations to come."

"...You shouldn't drink coffee so late."

"Connor." Hank quickly put the mug aside as he heard Connor's hoarse voice and saw his eyelids slowly cracking open, as the red L.E.D. flashed to yellow. "Hey, kid. Welcome back."

Staring up at the blank ceiling Connor's senses and memories returned to him steadily. "...I'm glad you found me."

"Of course I did, son."

Glancing down at his chest and abdomen wrapped up in the gauze bandages, Connor ran a self-diagnostic and determined he was stable enough to leave the tower and return to the precinct to finish the remainder of his late shift. "...We should head back to the-"

"Fuck no." Already knowing what Connor was going to suggest Hank cut him off and focused on the deviant's recovery first and foremost. "You're going to rest a few more minutes then I'm take you back home. The report can wait."

"...I see." Giving Hank an impressed and puzzled look Connor's brow furrowed slightly as the obvious question burned on his lips. "How'd you know I was going suggest returning to the precinct?"

"Because I know you." Hank replied smugly as he sat up straighter in his chair and pulled his phone from his pocket. Noting the time he gave Connor a hearty pat to the shoulder as he returned the phone to his pocket. "It's past midnight. Think you have the strength to walk to the squad car, or should I get a wheelchair?"

Nodding a little Connor propped himself up on his elbows and immediately had Hank put a hand to his upper back to help him to sit upright further. "I can try to walk."

"That's good. The sooner you're back home, the better." Finishing off the much appreciated coffee Hank helped Connor stand up on his slightly shaking legs then slung his dark coat around the deviant detective's shoulders to help him keep warm. "Your shirt and blazer were pretty much destroyed thanks to the bullets. This'll have to do until you can get home."

"Won't you be cold?"

"The car has a heater and I think I can handle walking three feet in the cold without becoming hypothermic. YOU were shot... Bullets do more damage than a little winter chill."

"Yes," Connor pressed his hands over his bandaged chest and abdomen for a moment. "I'm well aware."

"Lean on me." Hank insisted as he walked purposely slow to ensure Connor didn't hurt himself as he walked beside him. As the deviant let Hank pull his arm around his neck, Connor was happy to have the support and the tired look on his face spoke volumes. "Relax. We'll be home soon."

"I'm sorry."

"Sorry? For what?"

"Going off alone, and-"

"Don't apologize for doing your job. I'm the one who didn't keep up with ya'." Hank reminded the healing deviant as they entered the elevator together and began their steady ascent to the ground floor. "Besides, we all already knew that the asshole you chased after was dangerous. Tonight's little problem is one the entire precinct is responsible for. Got it?"

"Yes. I understand."

"But the credit for taking down a dangerous 'red ice' dealer," Hank emphasized as the elevator reached its destination and the two detectives stepped out into the lobby of the tower side by side to cross the lobby. "is all yours."

"...I don't want the credit for killing a man."

"You didn't kill a guy, you stopped a criminal. Don't think of it in any other way."

"Hey!" Simon rushed over to the two detectives and quickly stopped them from leaving the tower. "Hold up!" Standing before the duo Simon quickly pressed his fingertips to Connor's temple again. Running a quick system diagnostic Simon was relieved to find that Connor was still stable and showing normal vital signs. "Good. You're well on your way to a full recovery."

"Thank you for helping me, Simon." Connor managed to whisper as he took in a deep breath. "I know you're the one who aided me, and I appreciate it."

"You're welcome. I was on my way to check on you, but it looks like you've already decided to head home for the night."

"Yes, I'm still not comfortable with being in the tower." Giving the attentive technician a somewhat disturbed glance Connor admitted his hesitation. "It still has very dark memories for me regarding my time at CyberLife. I'd rather avoid it."

"I get it. Just wait a moment please."

Hank patted Connor's shoulder lightly as Simon proceeded to check the bandages wrapped around Connor's chest and abdomen for any residual bleeding.

"You can remove these tomorrow in twelve hours." The blond technician declared. "That'll protect your repaired plastimetal frame until the rest of your artificial skin regenerates."

"Thank you. Please inform Markus that I've returned home and I will speak with him tomorrow morning."

"Of course." Retracting his hands Simon gave Connor a respectful nod of the head and happily shook Connor's hand as the healing deviant detective offered his grip to take. "Take care. If you have any discomfort contact me."

"I will. Goodnight."

"Goodnight. And don't worry, I'll let Markus know you're okay."

Hank allowed Connor to continue to lean against his side as he helped the deviant exit the tower and get to the waiting patrol car to sit down in the front passenger seat. Holding his breath a little Connor winced and was relieved to find that breathing didn't hurt and promptly relaxed into the seat as Hank sat down beside him behind the steering wheel. Fastening his seatbelt over his chest and abdomen, Connor watched as Hank turned over the engine and pulled the car around to head back down the drive.

"Man, I know you said I shouldn't have drank that coffee, but I don't feel anymore awake now than I have since I found you."

"...I know you said not to apologize, but-"

"Connor, stop." The last thing Hank wanted was Connor beating himself up for going after an armed suspect alone. "You don't have to worry about freaking me out or anything, I'm a little used to it by now."

"All the same, I'm sorry."

"Well, you're forgiven if you need to hear it. But again, it's fine." Passing over the barricade in the middle of the drive Hank turned on the heater and directed the vents toward his own person. From the corner of his eye Hank saw that Connor was still feeling guilt ridden and needed a distraction. "Do you know what today is?"

"Monday." Connor replied without missing a beat as he peered blankly through the front windshield. "November the fifth."

"Right. What else?"

"...Our day off?"

"Right again." Turning off the drive and back into the sitting Hank waited for Connor to reply further as a sly grin appeared on his face. "What else?"

"Guy Fawkes Day, the gunpowder plot of 1605." Furrowing his brow Connor gave a slight shrug of his shoulders as he tried to figure out what Hank was hinting at regarding that particular dare. "Also, on this day in 1630 Spain and England signed a peace treaty, and then in 1725 Spain signed a peace treaty with Austria. There was-"

"All right, all right, smartass." Realizing that he needed to be a little more specific Hank tried again while failing to hide his amused smirk. "What does this day mean to you or me on a personal or direct manner?"

Quiet for a moment Connor searched through his memory banks regarding the date and finally understood what Hank meant. "...This is the date in which you and I first met at 'Jimmy's Bar'."

"That's right."

"We've known each other for exactly two years now."

"Yup." Motioning to the dark coat he had given to Connor, Hank directed the deviant's attention elsewhere. "Check the left coat pocket for me."

"Okay." Connor did as instructed, and he located the small white box that Hank had tucked into the garment before their shift even began. "Is this what you're looking for?"

"That's it." Hank glanced over at the box in Connor's hand and nodded at it. "Go ahead and open it up."

"What for?"

"It's a gift, son. That's why."

"A gift? But why?"

"Just open it already."

The corner Connor's mouth twitched a little as he opened the small box and peered at the contents within. It was a single object that was very familiar to Connor yet something he hadn't seen until that night. "A coin?"

"Take a closer look."

Using his free hand Connor picked up the coin and examined it much closer. "It's a one-year sobriety token."

"Yup. I got that thing last year when I slipped out to one of my private A.A. meetings when I said I was running errands or taking the old car in for maintenance. I didn't say anything because it felt like a weird test or a mockery of how long I was sobered up, but now I see it as a reminder of WHY I got sober to begin with."

"And why is that?"

"You, son." Hank made sure his gratitude was known as the two detectives headed back home to get some rest for the night. "I got sobered up because of you."

"...Hank." The shock of emotion in Connor's voice as palpable as he lightly rubbed his thumb over the smooth surface of the token. "I can't keep this." Holding it out toward the senior detective to reclaim Connor tried to get Hank to take it for himself. "It's yours, you've earned it."

"Right, I did earn it." Putting his hand over Connor's hand he pushed the token back toward the deviant to keep. "And I'm giving it to you."

"I..." Looking down at the token in his palm Connor wrapped his fingers over the offered item to secure it in a tight fist. "Thank you."

"You're welcome. And thank you for kicking my ass back in line, son."

"You're welcome," smirking a little Connor gave the senior detective faint grin. "...dad."

Feeling a sense of pride wash over him Hank knew he had done the right thing and for the first time in five winters Hank didn't feel like hiding in the bottom of a whiskey bottle or playing a game of Russian Roulette in the kitchen. The family, while small and unorthodox, was close and had found comfort with one another's presence. As the two still struggled to heal from their dark pasts they realized they'd have a better future as long as they watched one another's back.

After arriving at the house Hank again helped Connor to walk and enter the house through the backdoor. Connor gave Sumo some much needed attention as Hank helped the deviant to walk to his own bedroom to rest for the remainder of the night. While Connor changed into clean clothes Hank threw his dark coat and Connor's gray blazer into the washer to be taken care of in the morning. He knew blue blood would evaporate but he didn't like the idea of having a trace of Connor's blood on his own coat.

Connor slipped on a pair of gray sweatpants and a black t-shirt before he carefully sat down on the edge of the bed with his right arm wrapped around his abdomen and laid back against his pillow. As soon as he was laying down Sumo jumped up on the foot of the bed and rested him chin down on Connor's shins affectionately and wagged his tail.

"Hi, boy." The sobriety token was still in Connor's palm, and he gave it a firm squeeze before he put it down on the nightstand beside his bed right alongside his old quarter that had helped him to calibrate his senses and ease his anxiety. "I'm okay. So is Hank."

Hank knocked on the opened door frame and gave Connor a tired nod from where he stood.

"You get some rest and don't worry about shit at the precinct. That's what the other cops get paid for, so it's about time they earned their keep."

"Right. I'll keep that in mind."

"Goodnight, son. I'm glad you held on for me."

"Can I ask you something?" Connor called out just as Hank was about to turn away from the door frame. "Just one question."

"Sure, kid. What's up?"

"When I was bleeding in the alley, I heard you say something to me. You said you were proud of me and proud to have me as your son. Did you... mean it?"

"Of course I meant it! You're my son no matter what anyone tries to say." Entering the bedroom Hank gave the deviant a firm stare. "I've never said anything I didn't mean. You should know that by now."

"...You're really proud of me?"

"Connor, don't doubt yourself or anything I tell you. You're a good person, a damn fine detective, and an even better son. I'm proud to have you in my life, I'm even prouder that you're my friend. I wouldn't have put up with your stubborn ass for the past two years if I wasn't proud of you."

"Thank you." Giving his adoptive father a kind smile Connor let him know the feeling was mutual. "For what it's worth, I feel the same. You sobered up and you managed to restore your reputation as one of the best detectives in all of Detroit. That makes me proud to be your partner and your son."

Laughing a little Hank rubbed his hand over his bearded chin and sighed. "Well, you were shot tonight, so you could be a little delirious."

"No, what I'm feeling in genuine." Connor confirmed as he stared at the senior detective standing beside him. "If you hadn't taken me in as your own, I doubt I'd even be alive right now. I didn't know what it meant to be alive until you helped me to understand it."

"Being alive is pretty damn scary at times, let alone pretty damn confusing. I can't say that I blame ya'."

"To be honest, I think I would've walked away from the city and just walked until I collapsed." The deviant confessed as he felt a little ashamed of his previous darker thoughts as he struggled to understand life. "I was convinced my deviancy was either an error or just a temporary sentience. If I lost control... If CyberLife were to resume control of my programming, I was going to... end it all."

"I guess we both have problems with self-destructive tendencies, huh?" Hank empathized without passing judgement. "We both know that smothering, helpless feeling of wanting to just give in and let the darkness take us over. It's hard to escape the shadows, but it is always possible to return to the light."

"Yes." Nodding at the token on the nightstand Connor gave Hank a reassuring grin. "But we're both making strides to get better and move on from the past."

"Yup. I don't have that horrible urge to drink and pull the trigger..."

"And I don't want to walk away and wander about aimlessly until I can't walk anymore. The pain from being CyberLife's tool is almost gone."

"It's amazing how far we've both come in just a few years. We're both better people and I know I'm better because you reminded me that I deserved a lot better than how I was treating myself. I hope I was able to teach you the same."

"You did." Connor felt another grin creep over his face as he agreed entirely with Hank and his yellow L.E.D. flashed to blue. "I know I'm alive and I know my life is worth living. You taught me that."

"And like I said before, I mean everything I say. You matter, your life matters, AND you're alive." Crossing his arms over his chest he gave the stubborn deviant an amused glance before continuing. "You're sure as fuck making it hard to keep you alive sometimes, but it's worth the challenge. It helps keep me on my guard and alert."

"I'll do my best to avoid getting shot in alleyways from now on."

"That's a start." Laughing at the new 'personal goal' Hank just gave Connor a slight shake of the head. "Now if you'd actually wear Kevlar like I ask..."

"I'll try to make that a habit as well." Pressing his palm over his chest where the second bullet had struck him Connor let out a faint breath to test his pain threshold and was relieved that there was still no pain present. He was recovering fast thanks to Simon's skills as a technician. "I dislike being shot."

"Most people do, son. If you didn't, then I'd take you back to Simon for another examination. Specifically, your head!"

"I also dislike making you worry about me."

"Yeah, I dislike it, too."

"I still want to say 'sorry' for what happened."

"Don't kid. It's all over." Patting Connor's shoulder once more Hank let out a deep sigh and walked back toward the door so he too could lay down for the night and get some rest. "You're safe, I'm safe, and we're both still alive. That's all that matters."

"You're right." Laying heavily against his pillow Connor felt completely at ease and knew that he was right where he belonged. Giving Hank an appreciative nod Connor closed his eyes and proceeded to slip into rest mode for the night with Sumo cuddled up beside him. "...Goodnight, dad."

"Goodnight, son." Hank turned off the light in the bedroom and stepped into the hallway. Being called 'dad' just felt right and Hank didn't even think twice about the term of endearment. "I'll see you in the morning."

"Technically, at 12:12am, so it is morning already."

"Uh-huh, yeah. Smartass." Hank grumbled playfully at the way the deviant was always quick with a quip. "Go to sleep and get some rest. Today was a very eventful day, and with any luck tomorrow won't be."

-next chapter-