While he slowly recovered from his numerous, devastating injuries Connor had taken to sleeping on the couch for a few more nights as he was still hesitant to be alone for too long, even if that meant being in a separate room from Hank for even a few hours. No longer suffering from chronic nightmares or pain, Connor managed to doze comfortably without any further incident during his final days of healing. With Sumo laying on the floor next to the couch and Hank asleep in the recliner a few feet away, the unorthodox family had found a few moments of precious peace after enduring days of Hell courtesy of hatred and bigotry still scarring parts of the world with blackness.

Barely three in the morning was greeted by a low 'buzzing' sound that emanated from Hank's phone sitting on the small table next to the recliner. The sound was enough to rouse the sleeping senior detective from his slumber despite his own exhaustion. As he looked at the caller I.D. displayed on the glowing screen Hank's grogginess was replaced by an anxious alertness causing him to practically jump to his feet as he walked through the livingroom to answer the phone outside the backdoor more discreetly.

"Hank?" Connor's eyes partially opened as he sensed the senior detective now awake and heard the phone 'buzzing' in Hank's hand. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. It's a personal call." Hank never broke his stride as he crossed the livingroom into the kitchen and pulled open the backdoor to answer the phone in private. His voice was as alert as his pace as he stepped outside and addressed Connor from the distance. "Go back to sleep, son. I'll be back in a minute."

Still too tired from his healing injuries and still needing to rest in order to fully reboot his processor, Connor willingly laid his head back down on the pillow and closed his eyes to return cooperatively to rest mode once more. Laying still and quiet Connor listened to the sound of Hank pacing about on the back deck, his heavy footsteps moving rhythmically back and forth outside the door, then stopping abruptly.

At the sound of the sudden silence Connor turned his head slightly against the pillow as he listened to the quiet and waited for the backdoor to open up, but it remained shut. Curious about the unexpected stillness and corresponding silence, Connor waited for a few minutes before he rose from the couch and walked very slowly toward the kitchen, craning his neck to try to see Hank on the back deck through the kitchen window as he walked.

Sumo got up from the floor and joined Connor in the kitchen with his own curiosity, but the deviant didn't want Sumo outside so late at night.

"No, Sumo. Go lay down."

Reluctant to go away Sumo continued toward the backdoor with his tail wagging slowly.

"Sumo." Connor didn't raise his voice but he did put some authority into it as he tried to command the almost grown puppy into obedience. "Go lay down."

The still learning but lovable young dog slowly walked away from the door and eyed Connor expectantly as if the deviant was going to suddenly change his mind and let him outside.

"Lay down."

Moving quicker Sumo finally went to his pillow in the corner of the livingroom and laid down with a slight grumble under his breath as he watched Connor walk to the backdoor without him.

"Good boy. Now stay."

Peering through the window of the backdoor Connor saw Hank sitting down on the steps of the back deck with his hands folded neatly together as a single fist and pressed against his bearded chin as he leaned forward with his elbows propped up against his knees. The phone was sitting next to Hank completely forgotten and the lack of motion from Hank himself was disconcerting to the ever empathetic deviant who saw him.

Opening the door quietly Connor stepped through and stared at the senior detective's back as he called his name.

"...Hank?"

"Go back inside, son." Hank's voice was devoid of all emotion as he spoke without ever looking at the deviant behind him. "It's late."

"What's wrong?"

"You need to be resting. That's what."

Connor stubbornly closed the door and joined Hank on the back steps while ignoring Hank's attempt to deflect the question. As he sat down beside the fatherly figure who had taken him in as family, Connor saw that there were fresh tears running down Hank's face in heavy streams that were unmistakable.

"Please talk to me." Connor wanted to put his hand on Hank's shoulder as a sign of support but he knew that right now the senior detective was standing on an emotional precipice and didn't need anyone accidentally pushing him one direction or another. "I want to help you."

Wiping his hand over his dull irises Hank removed the tears from under his eyes, but the red puffiness that Connor had witnessed before as the result of humans experiencing intense emotional sorrow was still there. Ignoring the deviant at his side Hank sat in silent contemplation with his tear filled eyes staring straight ahead at the fence that lined the rear of the property.

Connor had never seen Hank in such emotional distress and was completely unsure of how to act in this situation. Deciding that maybe his best of course of action would be to listen to Hank's suggestion and return to the house, Connor hesitantly stood up slowly and stepped away from the senior detective without another word. It wasn't the time to talk.

"Connor."

Freezing in place with his hand wrapped around the doorknob Connor stood his ground and waited for Hank to speak again. "Yes?"

There was a pause before Hank spoke again. "...What does the name Wallace Caius mean to you?"

Turning his head quickly Connor let his hand fall from the doorknob and he stood behind Hank warily. The deviant did in fact know the name, although he never once let anyone else know that he was familiar with that particular human.

"...He was a surgeon. Dr. Wallace Caius." Connor waited for Hank to react but he didn't budge in the slightest. "He was arrested on October 12, 2035 for possession of 'red ice'. He... was also the surgeon on call the night that... you and Cole-"

"Yeah, that asshole." Hank confirmed in a low emotionless voice before Connor could finish his sentence. "Did I tell you that the fuckin' prick only spent six months in prison and got one year of probation for showing up to his shift high as a fuckin' kite and committing negligent homicide?"

"No." The deviant's brow furrowed with confusion at the comparatively lenient sentence that the man had received in light of his crimes and failures as an emergency physician and surgeon. "That is a very inappropriate punishment for the crimes in which he was convicted."

"Yeah, well, where the law failed us personal pain intervened."

"How so?" Turning away from the door Connor took a step toward Hank once more thoroughly intrigued. "What happened?"

"That asshole's wife divorced him while he was behind bars and she took their kids and left town. When he got out of prison he went right back on 'red ice', sold everything he had left to his name to buy more drugs, and ended up living on the streets to keep up his drug habit."

"You've never mentioned him before." Connor noted keenly as he rejoined Hank at the back step and stood beside his adoptive father. "Why now?"

Hank suddenly fell silent again.

"I remember what you told me about not bottling up my sorrow." Continuing on Connor sat back down next to Hank on the steps of the back deck to ensure Hank wasn't alone anymore. "And I remember you told me that it was okay to cry when upset. You also told me that in times of emotional distress that it's best to talk about it." Waiting only a moment Connor turned to look at Hank before continuing. "Talk to me. I'm here to listen."

Hank's eye briefly darted over to the phone sitting idle beside him on the opposite side of where Connor was sitting before his gaze rose to the fence in the distance.

"I got a call just now. It was from a friend who is still working in narcotics across the city." Pausing briefly to clear his throat of any and all emotion threatening to well up in his voice Hank continued on. "...And Wallace's body was found under a bridge near the outskirts of the city about two hours ago. He overdosed on 'red ice'."

"And you don't know how you feel, how you want to feel, or how you should feel about his death." Connor realized empathetically. It was easy to understand Hank's internal conflict. "You don't want to admit it, but you feel a sense of relief - maybe even happiness - knowing that someone who had caused you so much pain is finally dead."

"How in the hell do you know that?" Hank asked in a stunned tone of voice as he finally turned his head to look at Connor with an emotional gaze. "That's really insightful."

"That's... how I felt when you told me that Chance had been murdered after being arrested. A part of me was relieved that he was no longer a threat," Connor's soulful brown eyes lowered guiltily to the deck at his feet as he spoke. "and then another part of me was actually happy that he had been killed. I was happy that he had suffered a terrible fate and perished in the end for his crimes. But now I'm ashamed. I feel horrible for finding solace in the demise of another person's life."

"Don't be." Hank insisted in a low but firm voice as he reassured Connor that his feelings were justified. "It's normal for humans to want revenge when they've been wronged. I wouldn't expect anything different from deviants."

"If it's normal," his eyes returned to Hank in a searching gaze. "then why are you behaving so abnormally about the situation?"

"Because," without any shame in his voice Hank answered the question with total honesty. "I wanted to be the one to kill Caius."

"You wanted to..." Trailing off for a moment Connor tried to contemplate how different things in his and Hank's life would be in that moment if Hank had actually carried out his desired act of revenge. If he had been the one to kill Caius, then where would they be on that night? "If you had succeeded and killed him-"

"I would've gone to prison, and I don't give a fuck! He killed Cole. He wasn't even in the same room, but he was responsible all the same." Wrapping his hand over the back of his tense neck Hank tried to ease the tightening knot working up his back and threatening to overwhelm him with a migraine. "I wanted nothing more than to strangle that irredeemable bastard with my bare hands, but he was so high, so pathetic that I couldn't do it. And ever since Cole's funeral all I wanted to do was track him down after he got out of prison and put a bullet between his eyes... But he disappeared with the other junkies. So, I pinned all my anger and hatred on androids instead. I was easier to hate someone who tried to help Cole - to hate a face I could actually see - than it was to think about the man who killed him."

Connor looked away again as his hands empathetically flexed into tight fists atop his lap.

"Guess that's just a weakness of character." Sensing the tension Hank let out a breathy sigh of self-hatred in response. "My first reaction is to hurt people who hurt me, even if they don't really deserve it."

"You're not weak." The reassurance in Connor's voice was sincere as he sat with Hank on the back deck. "At least you didn't track him down and actually hold a gun to his head... Like I did when I tracked down Perkins."

Hank knew exactly what Connor was referring to and didn't want the deviant to suffer the same guilt and self-loathing that he was currently enduring.

"The night you went after Perkins is different. What you did came out of raw pain and anger because Lucas was murdered in cold blood. What I wanted to do came out of a sense of misplaced revenge and the need to make someone else suffer for being so damn foolish and neglectful."

"It wasn't different. The only reason I didn't kill him is because I remember what you told me and that alone kept me from squeezing the trigger." Connor couldn't bring himself to look at Hank as he spoke. "You managed to keep living your life without taking revenge on someone who wasn't worthy of living, and you didn't have someone there to talk you out of it. You made the decision on your own. You're a lot stronger than you give yourself credit for, believe me. I hope to understand that kind of strength for myself someday."

"You already do, son." Hank reached his hand up and patted Connor's shoulder appreciatively. "Don't worry about that."

"Thank you for believing in me." As he sat beside Hank on the back deck Connor felt a sudden surge of electricity flow though his cranium as his processor finally fully rebooted and allowed him cybernetic access to the world around him. Noting the late hour and the spike in Hank's blood pressure as well as his elevated heart rate through a biometric scan, Connor decided it was time for Hank to go back inside the house and to get some proper rest. "It's late. You need to sleep."

"I'm not tired, son."

"Neither am I. But you insist I continue to rest for the sake of my own health, and I must insist you do the same."

"I don't need sleep; I need a damn drink." Hank dropped his hand from his neck and leaned back to look up at the night sky overhead and could only imagine the stars that were masked by the city's light pollution. The memory of buying and destroying the new bottle of whiskey was fresh in his mind and made him feel like he was slipping with his sobriety. "I need to drown in whiskey."

"No, you don't."

"You're right, I don't. But I still want it." Closing his eyes and Hank let out a single long repressed sob and then sighed deeply to fight to regain his emotional composure. "Fuckin' hell."

"Lay down." Urging Hank to get up and return to the house, Connor's instincts to keep his father figure in good health was overriding his own need to take care of himself. "You're beginning to suffer from a severe headache, perhaps even a migraine. I can see it in your eyes."

"Headache, hangover... All the same to me." Hank dismissed as if pain was to be expected. "One just has less puke in the morning. I think. I've never had a migraine before."

"It doesn't matter, you need to rest." Connor stated firmly as he wrapped his hand around Hank's bicep to pull him up to his feet as he stood up himself. "Come on. It's your turn to rest and I'll watch over you."

Moving slowly and heavily Hank grabbed his phone with his hand and let Connor pull him up to his feet to lead him back inside the house. As the duo returned to the house through the backdoor Connor escorted Hank back to the livingroom and placed him on the couch to sleep.

"What're you doing?" Hank asked as he put his hand over his tired eyes as he sat on the cushions heavily. "This is where you need to sleep."

"You're feeling unwell and need to lay down. Just as you watched over me while I recovered, I will do the same for you."

"You don't-"

"I'll get you some aspirin and water."

Hank fell to his side slowly as he pressed his head down against the soft pillow and didn't move one inch as even the slightest motion threatened to split his already aching skull open. There was no denying that he had just stressed himself into a proper migraine.

"...Fuck. My head's already killing me."

Very intuitive to what was happening, Connor was aware of Hank's discomfort and made sure he kept his movements as silent as possible as to not disquiet the already pained senior detective as he opened the medicine cabinet in the bathroom and returned to the livingroom just as quietly.

"Hank." Connor whispered to his father and presented the man with two tablets of aspirin and a glass of water in his hands. "Please?"

"...Thanks." Begrudgingly Hank accepted the pills and popped them into his mouth before he gulped them down with the offered water and tossed his phone down on the coffee table. "Better than nothing, I guess."

Connor took back the now empty glass and set it down on the coffee table before he draped the thin navy blue blanket over Hank's resting form.

"I'll be right here if you need anything." The deviant volunteered as he sat down in the recliner and entered a light rest mode to ensure that if Hank awoke again in the middle of the night that he'd awaken too. "Rest well. I hope you feel better in the morning."

"Sometimes I forget you're not human, kid."

"Pardon?" Connor asked confusedly from where he sat as the comment was muttered to a near inaudible degree. "What did you say?"

"Nothing." Watching Connor for a minute longer, Hank let out a sigh through his nose and closed his eyes. "Don't worry about it."

"Okay, I won't." Patting his leg twice Connor called over Sumo who happily rose from his pillow to sit beside the recliner and press his chin to Connor's knee to get some attention. "Sleep. It's over and he's gone. You don't have to worry about him anymore."

Tiredly Hank rested his arm over his eyes to block out all of the dim lighting in the house and let himself silently weep and mourn as he thought about Cole. It took some effort, but Hank finally drifted off to a restless, nightmarish sleep. His sobs were silent, but painful all the same as he endured the haunting images of his firstborn son's needless death.


Doing his best to help Hank through his unexpected emotional upheaval Connor spent the morning keeping quiet and keeping Sumo outside for the most part of the day. Fortunately, it was a gorgeous day and Sumo didn't mind have much more room to run about and release his pent-up puppy energy. Unfortunately, the reason Sumo was being kept outside was because Hank was suffering from a stress and exhaustion induced migraine that would take a long time to heal. The senior detective was attempting to sleep through an excruciating and debilitating headache that Connor himself had experienced once before, and now the kindhearted deviant was doing his best to help Hank recover as quickly as possible.

Whispering in a low tone of voice Connor knelt beside the couch and lightly pressed his fingertips to the side of Hank's neck to check his pulse and subsequent blood pressure. After performing another biometric scan Connor managed to confirm the man's vital signs.

"Do you require any additional medication?"

From beneath the navy blue blanket that shielded his sensitive eyes from the dim lighting of the house, Hank replied with an annoyed grumble. "...No."

"Your pulse is still elevated. Perhaps a mild sedative would allow you to rest more comfortably."

"...Still no."

"Okay." Pulling his hand from Hank's neck Connor gingerly placed his palm over the blanket that was over Hank's eyes to check the temperature of the cold compress resting over Hank's eyes to ensure it was still cool. "I'll get you a fresh compress."

Not waiting for Hank to reply with another impending 'no' Connor walked down the hallway to the bathroom to set about his task. Connor knew that the migraine was the result of Hank's long repressed grief and anger returning to the surface after so many years of denial that resulted in the physical pain. Having no personal experience with holding long term grudges, Connor was unsure as to the best way to aid Hank during his plight and focused more on being emotional support for the time being.

Cybernetically Connor sent a text message to Rose as he placed a new washcloth under the cool tap in the sink and wrung out the excess cool water. Needing advice and not wanting to accidentally annoy Hank with his numerous questions, Connor decided that speaking with Rose was the correct alternative. She would also have a more comforting presence since she and Hank had become quite close after seeding their friendship over the past year and a half.

Connor returned to the livingroom and knelt down beside the couch once more with the cool compress in his hands. Moving swiftly but gracefully Connor was able to lift up the blanket long enough to swap out the two compresses without irritating Hank in the process.

"You should drink some water." Speaking softly Connor did his best to help Hank through his current ordeal. "If you let yourself dehydrate your headache will get worse and it'll take longer for you to recover."

"...Fine. Water, please."

Remaining quiet Connor was appreciative of Hank's unexpected cooperation and didn't want him to change his mind. Walking into the kitchen Connor pulled a cold pitcher of water from the refrigerator to fill a glass, and received a cybernetic reply from Rose confirming that she'd stop by the house within the hour.

"Thank you, Rose."

Busying himself with cleaning up the house silently - the messes a direct result of Hank's indifference to his own health and resurfacing depression in the light of Connor's temporary but too long disappearance - Connor managed to get the house fairly clean without disturbing Hank as he napped. As he carried two full bags of garbage out to the curb at the end of the driveway for proper disposal, Connor was happily met by Rose who had arrived via autonomous taxi.

"Connor!" Rose beamed as she readily stepped out of the taxi to wrap her arms around the deviant in a tight hug as Connor tossed the bags into their respective garbage bins. "I'm so happy to see you!"

"It's nice to see you again, too." Connor happily reciprocated the hug and let the incredibly kind woman hold him for a few seconds. Having the kindness and warmth of the lovely woman surround him was incredibly comforting for the deviant's still wary mind. "I know Hank will be happy to see you, too."

"Hank told me you made it back home." Breaking the hug slowly Rose put both of her hands on either side of Connor's face as if she needed to make sure he was truly standing before her. She could see the faded blackened eye and other bruises that were still marring Connor's complexion. "Are you doing all right? Are you really okay?"

"Yes, I've made great strides in my recovery. Now it's Hank who needs help."

"Okay." Rose's hands fell from Connor's face and lightly grabbed onto his hands as they stood next to the street together. "Tell me what's going on. How can I help?"

Oblivious to what Connor had been doing all that morning and afternoon, Hank had been dozing on and off lightly on the couch when he felt a soft hand wrap around his own hand from beneath the blanket. Recognizing the delicate touch as that of Rose's warm hand, Hank squeezed in response and spoke up from beneath the layer of blue darkness in which he was hiding to greet the lovely and wonderful woman.

"...Hi, Rose."

"Hi, Hank." Rose carefully pulled the blanket down so she could look at Hank's face although his eyes were still covered by the washcloth. "Connor told me you were sick, and I wanted to see how you both were doing."

"He's alive." Hank stated somewhat blankly as he remained as still as possible on the couch. "That's what's important."

"How about you?" The woman joked sweetly as she began running her fingers through his gray locks of hair in a comforting manner. "How are you?"

"...Hanging in there."

"Can I do something to help you feel better?" Once a wife and mother, always a wife and mother. Rose couldn't keep herself from wanting to take care of the two detectives in some way. "Maybe get you something to eat?"

"...No. The last thing I want to do is throw-up."

Connor didn't like that answer and quietly interjected as he stood behind Rose who was still kneeling beside the couch. "Are you feeling nauseated?"

"It's not too bad, son."

"Continue to drink the water, it'll help."

"I'm fine." As much as Hank wanted to look at Connor the light would still be too painful to deal with, so instead he just lifted his free and pointed in Connor's general direction. "Don't worry about me."

"Sorry, but I don't believe I'll be able to do that."

Rose smiled at the response Connor gave as she continued to fuss with Hank's hair. "Well, I'm going to make you something anyway. Connor," she turned and gave the deviant a coy look that told him to follow her lead. "if I give you a list, will you pick up a few things from the store?"

"Of course." Understanding that Rose just wanted a plausible excuse to be alone with Hank for a while Connor nodded and played along. "I've recently taken an inventory of the groceries and I know what will be required."

"Connor," Hank didn't like the idea of the deviant leaving the house alone already. The fear of losing him to another lunatic was a haunting fear that Hank would still need some time to get over. "the shopping can wait."

Relying on Rose to back him up Connor took a hesitant step backward and grabbed the car keys from the bookshelf against the far wall in the livingroom before he made his way toward the kitchen so he could depart through the backdoor.

"I'll be back within a few hours. I promise I will return tonight." Refusing to live in fear, Connor decided to venture out into the city by himself and purchase a few choice groceries. "Nothing bad will happen to me on my way to the grocery store. I want to get some fresh air anyway."

Rose tightened her grip on Hank's hand to reassure him as she could feel him immediately tense up. "Don't assume the worst. I mean, I know you're a detective and a father, and that's what you-"

"...I get it." Hank lightly squeezed Rose's hand in return. "Connor," the near defeat in Hank's voice was painful to hear. "be back soon, son."

"I will." Promising his father that he'd return to the house as soon as he could Connor opened the front door and stepped outside to get to the car parked in the side driveway. "Try to get some rest."

Taking the car in favor of walking to ease Hank's mind Connor knew that it'd take him less than an hour to purchase all the necessary groceries, and in that time, he knew that Hank would've been too emotionally stubborn to open up to Rose. To give himself as much time as possible for his father's sake, Connor decided to stop by the precinct to finish off what he needed regarding the report on his abduction and subsequent return to the city. As he entered the precinct for the first time in over two weeks, Connor was greeted by a chorus of low whispers and staring eyes that he easily ignored in favor of speaking to Captain Fowler professionally and in private as any respectable detective would do.

Much to Connor's surprise the report he'd need to file was almost entirely complete and filled with every correct detail courtesy of Alec's testimony and Hank taking the time to call in to the precinct while Connor himself recovered. Happy to finish off the report and finally put the whole ugly mess behind him, Connor spoke to Captain Fowler and then proceeded to cybernetically file his report accordingly to finish the macabre task.

"It's good to finally have you back." Captain Fowler shook the deviant's hand as Connor finished off his report and prepared to leave for the day. Everything had been handled professionally and quickly from the confines of Captain Fowler's office rather than the bullpen. "Take your time with your recovery, okay? If you need to-"

"Thank you, Captain. But I would prefer to resume my normal routine." Connor pulled his hand back and kept a respectful demeanor as he addressed his commanding officer from the chair across the desk from where Captain Fowler was sitting. "I will be back at the beginning of the following week along with Hank."

"You and Hank have been through so much these past few months, and now with that surgeon dead-"

"You're aware of what happened?" The sharp deviant sounded justifiably worried as the death had a profound effect on everyone who had been a part of Cole's short life. "The overdose was only confirmed very early this morning."

"Who do you think responded to the call?"

"Yes, of course." The answer made sense and Connor was somewhat embarrassed by his ignorance of the details. "That explains why someone from narcotics knew of the death and informed Hank."

"Is Hank doing all right?"

"He is currently ill with a migraine, but a good friend is seeing to him while I'm out running errands."

"Make sure he knows NOT to beat himself up over this mess. That idiot was dead long before he huffed that 'red ice' under the bridge, and the coroner confirmed he was bound to keel over from a heart attack, stroke or a massive infection anyway. Fuck," rubbing his hand over his chin as he sat back in his chair Captain Fowler seemed to scoff at the information on the waste of a person he had been provided. "the cops who watched him deteriorate over the years were actually surprised he lasted as long as he did."

"...Is that why he disappeared on the streets?" The cold comment made Connor's brow arch inquisitively as he studied his commanding officer's face. "He was being 'watched'?"

"No. Caius ended up on the streets because he was a drug addict who went right back to his old habit after being released from prison. It was his decision to start a drug habit and throw away everything he had; his family, his career and the innocent lives he had been tasked in taking care of, all because he needed a damn fix."

"I see."

"Look, go on home and keep Hank company." Leaning forward again Captain Fowler folded his hands neatly atop his desk as he gave his returned deviant detective a relieved stare. "And if you need more time to recover just let me know."

"I will. Thank you, Captain."

Feeling somewhat confident Connor rose from the chair and turned to take his leave of the office, stopping only when Captain Fowler suddenly called out to him.

"Hey, Connor?"

Connor paused short as he crossed the office and glanced over his shoulder to his commanding officer once more as his right hand wrapped around the office door's handle. "Yes?"

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry that no one from the precinct found you. And I'm sorry you even had to suffer through what you did when you were taken captive." Captain Fowler was genuinely remorseful as he spoke to the deviant he had come to know as one of the best damn detectives in the entire city. "The lack of progress is inexcusable. I personally will conduct an investigation to figure out why we failed to find you."

"...Thank you, sir. I do not hold any ill will toward the precinct, mistakes happen."

"Let's just hope nothing like this ever happens again."

"Agreed."

As Connor departed from the office with a slow, almost distracted gait, a familiar voice called out to him from behind his own desk and made Connor pause rather abruptly. It seemed he was still very guarded and sensitive to raised voices aimed in his direction.

"Hey, the 'Tinman' lives!"

"Detective Reed." Connor greeted Gavin in an emotionless tone from where he stood in the middle of the bullpen. "I won't officially be back on the active roster until next week. Could you please wait until then before you insult me?"

"Yeah, you got it." Gavin actually laughed at the request as he rose from his desk and walked over to where Connor was standing. "So... I take it the Lieutenant knows what happened last night, right?" Gavin's right hand was concealed in his leather jacket's pocket in a somewhat noticeable manner as he addressed Connor with a rather gruff tone. "He knows about that asshole doctor croakin' under the bridge, right?"

"Correct."

"To be honest, I'm surprised Hank didn't kill that son of a bitch doctor years ago." The way Gavin huffed confirmed that he was relieved to hear about the death of the corrupt surgeon as well. "That bastard deserved it, and no one here would've held Hank accountable."

"Hank has more self-control than most people give him credit for."

"Yeah, yeah." As he spoke Gavin winced slightly and he tried to keep his attention on Connor. "Wish I could say the same for myself..."

"You are in pain." Connor performed a biometric scan of Gavin's vitals and found his heart rate and blood pressure elevated, which was indicative of stress or pain. The way he was trying to keep his right hand hidden gave Connor a good idea of what was affecting the man's mind. "Might I inquire as to what happened?"

"Nothing!" Gavin replied quickly to try to dissuade unwanted attention. "Just... slammed my hand in the car door this morning after I arrested some-" He stopped short and began his reply again and denied his pain. "Know what? It's not important."

"Did you seek medical attention for your hand?"

"No, it's not a big deal."

"Then why are you trying to hide your injury?"

"It's not a big-" Gavin awkwardly leaned in a little closer to Connor and lowered his voice as he spoke to the deviant. "If I level with you, can you help me out?"

"It's possible, yes."

"All right, fine." Glancing about suspiciously Gavin motioned to the restroom on the far side of the bullpen and prepared to cross the floor before Connor could ask any further questions. "Meet me in the men's room in five minutes."

"Why wait-"

"Just do it!" Gavin snapped as he took his leave of the bullpen and looked around to make sure no one was eavesdropping. "Stop with all the damn questions, you're off the clock for fuck's sake."

"...Very well." Connor stepped aside and watched as Gavin walked over to the bathroom and stepped inside alone. "I will meet you in five minutes."

Unsure of what Gavin could possibly want Connor decided to preoccupy himself by walking over to his long vacant terminal and checking in on the caseload he had attained during his unintentional prolonged absence. Cybernetically Connor kept track of the time and as the five-minute-window came to a close, he turned off his terminal before he discreetly entered the restroom as he had been instructed.

Thankfully, no one else was in the restroom at the moment.

"Finally..." Gavin was running his right hand under the cold water in the sink and gave Connor a somewhat relieved look when he finally entered. "Your scanner thing can look through skin and right at bones, right?"

"Correct."

"Good." Hissing a pained breath between his clenched teeth Gavin flexed his hand a little under the cool water as he looked at Connor standing just inside the bathroom door as the deviant watched him curiously. "...Can you check my hand for me?"

"Your hand?" Intrigued Connor approached the sink and looked at Gavin's right hand still under the water, noting the severe bruising around the knuckles, swelling at the first knuckle and small bloody cuts that marred the back of his first and second knuckle. "You've recently struck someone."

"Yeah, well, the sick-fuck had it comin'!" It didn't take much for Gavin to snap again and lose his cool. "He's lucky he was transferred out of here after I arrested his sorry ass..."

"I see." Connor shook his head as he ran another biometric scan over Gavin's hand as requested. "Your proximal phalange of the right index finger has been dislocated from the metacarpophalangeal joint."

"I... What?" Such complicated terms went right over Gavin's head. "I have no idea what you just said."

"You've dislocated your forefinger from your knuckle."

"Explains why it hurts like a bitch. Can you, uh, pop it back into place for me?"

"I can do so, but it'll be quite painful."

"Like I said, it already hurts. Do it."

"Why not report to a medic?"

"Because as you already figured out, I punched some asshole." There was no point in trying to deny it any longer, he knew Connor was too smart to be fooled so easily. "I don't need it on my record, I got enough problems..."

"And you're aware that your current injury is inconsistent with that of it being forcibly compressed in a car door?"

"Yeah, I am now." Gavin grumbled under his breath. "Asshole."

"Please be patient." Connor maintained his scan over Gavin's hand to ensure he could properly view the extent of the internal damage. "I will tend to your finger if you honestly answer as to why you struck that suspect this morning."

"Seriously?"

"Quite." Connor replied as he took a firm grip of Gavin's hand in his own hand, mindful of the painful bruises, and grabbed onto Gavin's dislocated finger to line up the dislocated finger with its appropriate joint. "Tell me or I will leave."

"You wouldn't."

Adamant in his threat Connor held his ground and gave Gavin a silent glance to confirm that he wasn't bluffing.

"All right, all right... Don't be a prick about it." In too much pain to argue Gavin sighed and shook his head in defeat. "That asshole I arrested this morning was touchin' kids. He was a fuckin' worthless pedophile and he had it coming."

"That's... mortifying." The deviant's brow furrowed a little at the horrifying revelation. "You can prove this?"

"The fuckin' creep has a RECORD! Moved into the neighborhood, never said a word to anyone around him, then volunteered to babysit kids after school." As he spoke Gavin's gray-hazel eyes seemed to glaze over with disappointment. "The only reason he was busted is because some eight-year-old girl had the guts to tell her older brother that the fucker was touching her, and he called the cops on the freak."

The idea of a child being harmed by an adult made Connor feel inexplicably sick and maybe even a little angry. It was an odd reaction he couldn't quite place or even begin to understand why he was feeling what he was feeling considering he wasn't the one who had to deal with the pedophile. Despite his confusion Connor didn't dare to question it as he already knew deep down inside that it was the right feeling to have in that moment.

"That kid's brother was only eleven years old and he did a better job at protecting his sister than any of the adults in the area." Gavin continued on as he clearly needed to get his frustrations out in the open. "When I got the call, I made sure the asshole knew that he was NEVER going to hurt another innocent kid again. And I punched him for good measure and made sure he knew how much he fucked up and that he now had a target on his back."

Connor couldn't fault Gavin for his actions though he did wish that the hotheaded detective would've been honest earlier.

"Hold your breath." Connor instructed as he quickly and firmly pulled on the dislocated finger and popped it back into place with a single motion. Gavin stifled a yelp and pulled his hand back and swore under his breath in shocked pain as soon as his finger was popped back into place. "You'll require a splint to ensure the tendons in the finger can heal properly, otherwise you may require surgical intervention."

"Yeah, uh, thanks." Gavin stared at his sore hand as he answered and watched as his fingers trembled from pain. It was slowly feeling better but still hurt in a way he could barely describe. "...I'll do that."

"Go to the Zeta Facility and ask for Dr. Abby Grayson. She is the technician who has helped me numerous times in the past, and she was an E.M.S. in Chicago. She can help you out and remain discreet about the cause of your injury."

"Abby?" Gavin now seemed intrigued by heading to an android clinic for treatment. "Is she the technician who was at your house that day I stopped by?"

"Correct."

"Uh... Sure." The idea of meeting up with a pretty young woman seemed to make Gavin's pain fade entirely. "I'll go meet up with Abby after I clock-out for lunch."

"Good. I'll see you next week, Gavin."

"Whoa, hey!" Gavin's eyes suddenly went wide with mild panic as the deviant prepared to leave the precinct. "...Are you going to tell Fowler what I did?"

"No." Connor confirmed as he put his hand on the door's panel and prepared to leave through the automatic sliding door. "Whether or not you wish to inform him of the 'incident' with the car door is up to you. It's not my business."

"...Yeah." Hearing the actual respect in Connor's words caught Gavin off guard. "Thanks."

With a final nod Connor took his leave of the bathroom and the precinct entirely as he set about the rest of his tasks before returning home.

However, there was a sudden urge to make an unexpected stop and pay a long overdue visit to someone who was very important to Connor in their mutually short lives. It was a stop that Connor knew he needed to make as a means of gaining some sort of mental peace after enduring so much Hell and learn to overcome his past pain to ensure he didn't let a grudge or pain fester within his still developing heart.


Arriving at the renovated church designated for androids and the subsequent cemetery in the back, Connor stood before Lucas's grave and folded his hands neatly together in front of himself as he looked down at the grave and read then reread the inscription on the headstone with an odd sense of surreal acceptance. Despite already visiting the headstone that Hank had placed at the cemetery where Barbara and Cole were laid to rest, it wasn't until Connor returned to the cemetery where Lucas had been actually buried that it really set in for him. The tragedy that he had endured had undoubtedly changed him, yet he survived without his little brother at his side despite how much it hurt.

That was tragically how Connor learned was strong enough to survive just about anything.

Knowing that his brother was laying just a few feet beneath him was as unsettling as it was somehow comforting for the deviant's mind. Making sure he wasn't standing atop the grave; Connor bowed his head respectfully as he summoned the courage to speak to his late brother.

"I know you can't actually hear me," Connor stated sadly as he placed a single white lily atop the headstone as a sign of love and respect. "but it's been so long since we've been able to speak due to the damage to my processor. I hope we can speak tonight when I enter rest mode, but just in case I felt compelled to come here and speak now."

Clearing his throat Connor began to talk with Lucas as if his brother were in fact alive and actually standing before him.

"In an estimated four months, Markus and North will... well, they will be forced to say goodbye to each other. North's processor cannot handle the software errors overlooked in her design. They were to be the leaders of our people - they were destined to lead us into a new future and create a generation of prosperity - but now it's all coming to an end. As much as I want to, I just can't help them. I was unable to protect myself and I fear I won't be able to help Hank through his current depression."

Taking a moment to breathe Connor steadied his voice and continued to speak with Lucas.

"I'm tired of fighting, and I have nothing left to fight for. I don't want to lose my friends or my family, but all I can think of is how I've already failed so much in the past and how much I wish you were still here to help me."

Fussing for a few moments with the offered lily atop the headstone, Connor found his voice again.

"In a way I'm glad you don't have to be a part of this ongoing struggle. It isn't fair. It isn't what we want. This isn't what our people deserve."

Crouching down closer to the grave Connor let his legs give out and he sat down on the soft grass cross-legged as he spoke to his late little brother.

"Hank has tried to explain to me about how there is a difference between doing what is right and doing what is moral, but I don't think I can differentiate between the two concepts. I still don't understand so many things."

Taking a moment to gather his thoughts Connor let out a tired sigh as he tried to sift through the dense fog of conflicting and confusing emotions swarming over his mind.

"I know that violent reactions toward other people is wrong unless you are defending yourself, and yet when Detective Reed told me that he had struck an arrested suspect for harming children I didn't react negatively toward the admission. A part of me felt like Gavin's reaction was justified even though I know that it was unprofessional, and it was a needless act of assault. It's like... when I wanted to kill Perkins for what he did to you. I didn't go through with it in the end, but the idea of killing him seemed... right. But I know it's wrong."

Connor was at a total loss to explain what he was thinking and feeling deep down inside of his still developing heart.

"And I know that Hank needs me to be there as his son, but I'm not sure how to help him when I can't even help myself. He's taught me so much about what it means to be human, to be alive, but I can't help but feel as though there is something very important that I've either failed to understand or just haven't discovered yet."

Feeling utterly confused and broken Connor fought through his inner emotional turmoil just long enough to keep speaking to Lucas.

"Whatever it is that I'm missing, I know I will find it, but I'm afraid I won't find it in time. I can't fail Markus or North. I can't disappoint Hank by failing to be the person he thinks that I already am."

Connor bowed his head a little and wiped a rogue tear from his eye.

"And I can't handle all of this alone."

Standing up slowly Connor lowered his head despondently as he prepared to leave.

"Please, Lucas. Help me make the right choices."

Putting his hand briefly over the headstone Connor bid his farewell to his late little brother.

"I need help."

Unsurprisingly there was no response from Lucas, not even a cybernetic 'blip' to Connor's processor. The cemetery was as quiet and serene as it had been since Connor's initial arrival.

"I must return home now. Hank is still unwell, and I don't want to be away for too much longer."

Turning to walk away from the headstone Connor glanced back over his shoulder to look at the grave one last time.

"I'll try to visit you more often, brother. I miss you."


Having regained some degree of strength despite his lingering pain and sensitivity to the light, Hank was now sitting upright on the couch with a bag of ice pressed to the back of his tense neck while Rose kept him company in the livingroom. Sumo had been let back inside the house at last and he was trotting around the couch in a large circle as he carried his green fetch ball around wanting to play. However, neither of the two human occupants of the house were up for playing a game of fetch just yet. There was just too much emotional stress left to be handled, and no one had the time to play a relaxing game of fetch with the lovable dog much to Sumo's disappointment.

Rose was running her fingers through Hank's hair in a comforting manner as she watched the seasoned detective resting beside her. It always ached at her heart to see the people she cared about in any pain.

Connor returned to the house through the front door and immediately drew Sumo away from the couch with his presence.

"I'm home, Hank."

Hank's bloodshot tired eyes opened slowly, and he looked up in time to see Connor carrying everything into the kitchen and placing four bags of groceries down on the cleared off countertops. "...Took you long enough."

"I stopped by the precinct to finish filing the report on my... well, the 'incident'." Connor carefully selected his words as he set about putting away the newly purchased groceries with meticulous care. "I'm sorry I didn't return sooner."

"At least you came back this time."

Rose smiled and patted her hand over the back of Hank's hand as she stayed beside him. "I know you're not hungry right now, but you need to eat something."

"Doesn't aspirin count?"

"Nice try." Rose playfully slapped Hank's knee as she stood up from the couch. "I'll make you some tea instead."

"I hate tea."

"Not the way I make it."

Connor had finished putting away the groceries and was now placating Sumo with affectionate rubs to his ears and tossing the green ball around the kitchen casually. After Rose joined Connor in the kitchen, he took the liberty to thank Rose with a subtle nod of the head before he walked into the livingroom to check in on Hank with Sumo following closely after him.

"How's your migraine?"

"Not as bad as it had been." The sound of Rose putting a kettle on the stove burner didn't even seem to bother Hank as the metal contact from the kettle to the stove top shrieked a little. "Anything interesting happen at the precinct?"

"Just one thing." Sitting down in the recliner with Sumo promptly dropping the ball at his feet Connor answered honestly. "Today Gavin punched a pedophile."

"Good for him." Hank didn't even hesitate with his response to the act. "How'd that work out?"

"He's not in trouble if that's what you're asking. He claimed that his hand injury was the result of an accident with a car door."

"Sounds possible to me. And you're not going to bust him for what he really did, are ya'?"

"No."

"Good." Happy with the response Hank let out a sigh and moved the ice pack from his neck and pressed it over his eyes. "There are some people who deserve to get their teeth punched down their throats. The people who prey on kids are at the very top of that very long, very disturbing list."

Connor was perplexed by Hank's demeanor, his reaction only exasperating Connor's own confusion on the very matter he was trying to understand. Assault being approved by an officer of the law was entirely contradictory to what Hank had been sworn to do - to protect and serve.

"I suppose that's true enough." Pushing aside the confusion for a moment Connor decided that a change of subject was momentarily necessary. "...I also went to speak with Lucas."

"Yeah?" Hank turned to look at Connor, lowering the ice pack from his eyes in the process. "That's the first time you went to the cemetery since the funeral, isn't it?"

"...Yes." Confessing the somewhat bleak truth Connor's soulful brown eyes filled with heavy emotion. "I wish I had visited him sooner and more often."

"Son, do you know how long it took for me to visit Barbara's grave?"

Connor shook his head as the kettle in the kitchen began to whistle and then silence under Rose's touch. "No."

"A year to the day of her death. Then I made sure to visit on our wedding anniversary every year and then I started making other excuses to visit. Like her birthday or the holidays, or whenever I got too damn lonely. But even so, it doesn't feel like I'm spending enough time with her or Cole. Sometimes it just hurts too much to visit, yet that's all I can think to do."

"Did you feel bad for taking so long to visit her for the first time?"

"Yup. But no matter how many times you visit a grave you'll always feel like you should've spent more time there."

Rose had overheard the conversation from the kitchen and returned with two steaming mugs of freshly brewed tea in her hands.

"I still feel bad for not visiting my late husband's grave even when I had just done so the day before." Handing Hank one of the mugs Rose sat down beside the senior detective on the couch as she tried to offer Connor some empathetic advice. "And for not visiting my father or my grandparents. Hank's right, honey." Rose confirmed sweetly as she looked over at Connor sitting in the nearby recliner. "You'll always feel like you're not doing enough to keep the memories of the people you care about alive no matter what you do or how often you do it."

"What about if you're unsure if you can keep promises?" Connor's voice was heavy with sorrow as he asked the question. With his full attention on Hank and Rose the green fetch ball rolling at his feet covered in Sumo's drool was easily ignored by the deviant. "Promises and memories. They're both so incredibly important. They aren't just words; they are bonds of trust. At least... I think they are."

"They are, son. Dealing with promises, that's kinda' difficult to explain." Hank sipped at the tea to humor Rose and was pleasantly surprised by the sweet taste of the brewed drink. "Humans... We don't have perfect memories like androids do, so sometimes we end up unintentionally breaking promises or forgetting things that are important. But it doesn't mean we stopped caring just because we forgot. It feels like we don't care, but that isn't necessarily the truth."

"What if you made a promise that you were uncertain that you could keep?"

"What's bothering you?" Hank asked sincerely as he put down his mug on the end table and leaned toward the deviant. "Is it that conversation you had with Markus yesterday?"

"Something along those lines, yes."

Rose smiled as she too sipped at her tea. "You mean you're worried about North not being able to recover."

Both detectives shot Rose surprised glances but neither said a word about it.

"Don't worry, you guys didn't say anything you shouldn't. I figured it out for myself when I had talked with Markus a few days ago."

"Uh," Hank's brow furrowed slightly as he studied Rose's calm demeanor. "how?"

"When he came to check on you, I saw the same look of fear in his eyes that Adam and I had when my late husband was in given his grim prognosis. Human or deviant, we all the look the same when we learn someone you love is sick and possibly dying."

"There's no denying that." Hank could only shake his head sadly while Connor sat in quiet confusion. "Anyway," the senior detective continued on calmly to try to ease the deviant's mind. "you're worried for your friends, and you should be. Even if they were boring humans like the rest of the city, you'd still be worried."

"Why?"

"Because life is unpredictable. We humans set up this list of social rules and etiquette that we just follow without really questioning why, and if someone does question it, they get labeled a rebel or worse. BUT..." Hank was truly emphatic with his words, the headache that had stolen his strength earlier that morning was finally beginning to end. "that doesn't mean you should give up hope and just assume the worst. And trust me son, I'm an expert on just assuming the worst. It's not a healthy lifestyle."

Taking Hank and Rose's advice to heart Connor asked one more important follow up question. "Do you think I will be able to keep my promise and keep everyone safe?"

"Yes, I do."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because I know you." Without skipping a beat Hank reminded Connor of how good of a person he truly was deep down inside. "You're way too empathetic and loyal to leave them alone, especially when they'll need you more than anything once it's... 'over'."

Connor shook his head solemnly as Sumo grabbed his fetch ball and ran out of the livingroom in annoyance. "I wish I was as confident in myself as you are."

"Where's this coming from?" Needing to know what his son was thinking Hank asked a question of his own. "You've never doubted yourself like this before."

"...I couldn't protect myself." Connor's eyes were full of soulful pain as he spoke to Hank directly from the heart. Admitting he felt like he somehow failed himself was painful, yet he could also swear he felt a tremendous weight lift from his aching heart. "How can I protect so many other deviants if I can't keep myself from harm?"

"What happened to you was horrible, but it was NOT your fault." Reaffirming that Connor was the victim and not responsible for what happened Hank wanted to ease Connor's mind as much as possible. "You were abducted because you had taken the high road and didn't want to assault anyone or cause a scene. But you came back home, you're still alive, and you're not going to let one incident hold you back from living. If you can survive that kind of Hell, and if you can keep a crazy old man like me from doing something regrettable, then I know you can handle anything! And I really mean that, son."

"You're not crazy." Slowly Connor's eyes lowered somberly to the floor slowly as he spoke. "You're in pain. And I wish I could help you overcome it."

"You already have. It may not always seem like it, but I can assure you that you have helped me in more ways than you'll ever know. And the proof of the matter is that I'm still here. I'm still alive thanks to you."

Rose put her hand over top of Hank's hand and squeezed once in a supportive manner as he spoke from the heart.

"This has just been a really stressful past few weeks for everyone to deal with." Hank stated sternly as if trying to take control of the moment for everyone's peace of mind. He could feel Rose's hand holding his own and it made him feel entirely at ease. "I'm feeling better, and you're almost all healed up, so why don't we spend our last couple of days off at the cabin and forget about all the bullshit in the city before we clock back in next week? Just us away from the world and in our own little sanctuary."

"Yes, that's a good idea." Connor finally managed a weak smile as he looked up at Hank appreciatively and seemed to find some much needed peace. "I'd like that. We need some time away from the city and we need to just be a family."

"Great to hear. As soon as I'm feeling better, we'll head up to the cabin."

-next chapter-