Working late into the night at their respective terminals Hank let out a sleepy yawn and finished off his coffee while Connor proceeded to finish off his current case file at his usual impressive speed. There were few officers left in the bullpen as a majority of the night shift had gone out on patrol as scheduled and there were rarely ever complaints being filed so late at night by citizens anyway. The lack of immediate personnel had left the two detectives almost completely alone in the bullpen. As Hank yawned yet again with mounting fatigue he rubbed the heels of his palms against his red bloodshot eyes and stared at his now empty coffee mug.

"Fuck. I still need this shit if I'm going to get through these damn cases." Picking up the mug by the handle Hank rose to his feet to get his refill. "I don't want to hear any shit about the sugar tonight, kid. I need it."

As Hank rose from his desk with his mug in his hand Connor noticed that Hank had pressed his left hand to the small of his back and held it there as he walked.

"Is your back hurting you again?"

"Of course it's hurting me. It's always hurting me."

Watching as Hank made his way to the breakroom Connor ran a biometric scan over Hank's vital signs and a few red flags popped up in his visual processors. The warnings were stemming from within Hank's body near his lower back, specifically the warnings were in regard to Hank's artificial kidneys. Joining Hank in the breakroom Connor, without warning, grabbed onto Hank's right arm and pressed his fingers against the interior of Hank's wrist to check his pulse.

"What the hell are you doing?" Protesting the random medical exam Hank gave Connor an odd stare. "It's a backache not a heart attack."

"I need to check something."

"Why?" Hank placed his mug down on the counter beside the coffee pot and relented to Connor's impromptu exam. "What's wrong?"

"I fear one, if not both, of your artificial kidneys are malfunctioning."

"Ah, shit. If it's not one thing..." Ignoring the coffee for the moment Hank patiently decided to comply with Connor's urge to check on his well fare. "All right. What do you need to do?"

"I need to check your vitals and note your possible symptoms."

"All of this trouble because of a damn backache?"

"I had also noted that you had been more tired than usual, and despite all the additional coffee you've consumed throughout your shift you had failed to urinate as one should after consuming so much liquid."

The senior detective's brow arched inquisitively at the claim and eyed Connor curiously. "You count how many times I pee?"

"Not intentionally, it's merely an observation that I can't control." After counting Hank's pulse, finding it slightly elevated and his respiration count relatively normal, Connor noted a slight increase in his overall body temperature. "Do you have a headache?"

"No worse than usual."

"What about any nausea or numbness in your extremities?"

"Nope."

"Your limbs appear slightly swollen." The deviant stated as he examined Hank's right hand and arm. Hank wasn't wearing his coat which gave the deviant full view of his forearms and halfway up his biceps. Connor then compared the right arm to the left arm at Hank's side. "And I can see faint bruising on your hands and all along your arms. Is your skin itchy?"

"...Yeah, a little. But I have dry skin, it's still cold out, you know."

"Do you have any shortness of breath or pain in your chest? What about dizziness?"

"No, my chest is fine and I'm not dizzy."

"Do you have a metallic taste in the back of your mouth?"

"...Probably. It might explain why the coffee tastes like shit." Seeing the worry in Connor's soulful brown eyes and remembering how worried he had been when Connor's failing filter had made him so dangerously ill, Hank decided that he didn't want the deviant to go through the same emotional dread and cooperated entirely with the attentive deviant's fussing. "So what's your prognosis?"

"I think you need to see a doctor. Your artificial kidneys need to be recalibrated, if not replaced."

"No fuckin' way. I'm not going under the knife again."

"Recalibration isn't as invasive as it sounds." Connor reassured him confidently. "It can be done with an external-"

"I don't want to know any of the details, kid." Pressing his left thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose Hank let out a tired sigh before addressing the deviant again. "Look, I know you wouldn't be telling me this if you weren't certain that something was really wrong with me, but I gotta' know; exactly how certain are you that I'm in danger?"

Connor didn't say anything as he just stared at Hank with unspoken worry in his soulful brown irises. The silence spoke volumes of the dread wearing a hole in the deviant's still developing heart.

"You're that certain, huh?"

Nodding subtly Connor confirmed the question with a low, almost inaudible voice. "...Yes."

"Fuck. Okay, call in Chris and Jack and have them come back to the precinct so we can get outta' here for a few hours."

"Will do." Connor's visibly slumped a little with relief and his eyes brightened slightly. "Thank you."


Begrudgingly Hank rested on a bed in an emergency examination room at St. Mercy Hospital after Connor drove him in to be seen by a professional. Refusing to change out of his clothes and into a hospital gown, the stubborn senior detective did agree to let a nurse take his vitals and patiently waited for the doctor come into the room to check on him. Connor of course stood with his back against the far wall of the private room and fidgeted with coin in his hands as he silently observed Hank from afar.

The deviant's odd tic hadn't gone unnoticed by the senior detective who promptly made his observation known. "Knock it off with the coin and say something, damn it. You make me nervous when you do that."

"The coin," Connor gripped the quarter in a tight fist and pocketed it out of Hank's sight. "or my silence?"

"Both."

"I apologize." Slipping the coin back into his pocket Connor respected Hank's request and decided to open up. "What would you like to talk about?"

"Nothing. I just don't want you being quiet when you know there's something going on with me."

"I don't understand. How can I-"

"Never mind, just... I don't know. Tell me what's going on at the precinct right now."

Connor paused as he cybernetically updated himself and Hank and what was happening at the precinct in real time. "...Chris and Jack haven't reported any disturbances since our departure. Tina is still on patrol with Brad."

"Who?"

"Gavin's temporary replacement."

"Right. That guy."

"There has-"

The door to the room opened and the responding doctor approached the two detectives with a sense of familiarity to his presence. "I'm Dr. Roberts. And if I remember correctly I've had you as a patient before, Lieu- Captain Anderson."

"You're going to have to get a little more specific, doc'. It's been a pretty hectic past couple of years."

"I treated you for pneumonia after there was a fire at your precinct."

"Right... Now I remember."

"I understand that you've undergone a double kidney transplant roughly six months ago."

Connor clarified with a level voice the exact timeline. "Five months, two weeks, four days, nine-"

"Connor." Hank stopped the deviant from getting way to specific for everyone's sake as he pointed at the electronic chart gripped in Dr. Roberts's hand. "He already knows."

"...I see. I apologize."

Dr. Roberts just smiled and made a few additional notes to Hank's electronic chart in his hand and didn't mind the additional details. "So, in that time have you experienced any of the symptoms you currently have any time beforehand?"

"Nothing but my back fuckin' up every now and then, but that was before I even had the surgery."

"Of course. I also see that you've dropped twenty pounds since the surgery and have managed to completely cut alcohol from your diet. Impressive."

"Yeah, yeah. That shit I already know." Hank was less interested in those details and more concerned with his kidneys. "What's going on with those 'plastic miracles' I have in my back?"

"Cybernetic kidneys have been known to falter whenever a recipient has a change in their metabolic rate. Considering you've only recently begun to notice these symptoms and your vitals are stable, I suspect a simple recalibration is in order."

"All right... Do I need surgery?"

"Fortunately, no. You just need to lay back and let me check your kidney function and if I'm right I'll get you on your way within the hour."

"Sounds good to me."

"Excellent. Now just lay back and remove your shirt. I'll be back in a few minutes."

Letting out a weary sigh Hank shrugged off his heavy coat and tossed it to the nearby chair while Connor continued to monitor him from where he stood. As Hank unbuttoned his bright blue shirt and shrugged it off as well to get down to his black t-shirt beneath, he noticed Connor remaining perfectly quiet and still against the wall as if lost in a trance.

"Connor? What's wrong with you?"

Connor blinked a few times as his eyes focused on Hank's face. "...Pardon? Did you ask me a question?"

"For fuck sake." Throwing the unbuttoned shirt to Connor who caught it easily Hank sighed and laid back against the table as he awaited the doctor's return so he could begin the examination. "Just say whatever it is that's bothering you."

"I... I'd rather not."

"Why?"

"...Because I'm having difficulty putting my current thoughts into words."

Before Hank had the chance to offer any form of rebuttal or guidance the door slid open again as Dr. Roberts returned with a deviant nurse and a rolling cart designed specifically to connect to artificial kidneys. Rolling the cart over the to left side of the bed Dr. Roberts sat down on the rolling stool already in the corner of the room while the nurse rolled over a second machine to the right side of the bed.

"Now what?" Hank asked in a somewhat gruff tone as Dr. Roberts powered on the machine before slipping a pair of sterile purple latex gloves over his hands. "More tests?"

"Just one. We need to check your kidneys to make sure they're both still functioning and remaining in their proper position in your abdomen. In order to do that," the nurse lifted up Hank's faded black t-shirt and exposed his bare and thinner torso compared to his previous weight. "we need to use an ultrasound."

"Seriously?" Giving the doctor a somewhat annoyed and skeptical glance Hank shook his head and watched as the nurse prepared the machine. Remembering how Barbara had to undergo ultrasounds while pregnant with Cole the senior detective found the use of the device to be a somewhat comical irony. "If I still had a beer gut going on I wouldn't blame you for running that damn thing around, but it's kind of an insult now."

Chuckling at the comment Dr. Roberts did as he had previously stated and ran the wand of the ultrasound, complete with a little bit of gel, over Hank's exposed abdomen.

Jumping a little at the chilly pressure on his stomach Hank breathed slowly and steadied himself on the bed. "Cold."

"Sorry about that." It took only a few minutes of searching but soon enough the doctor located the first kidney and checked its functionality. "Okay, the left kidney is still functioning and it's still where it should be." As the black and white images of Hank's internal organs appeared on the display monitor Connor found himself double-checking the doctor's work out of a weird instinct to keep Hank as healthy as possible. "And the right one is looking good, too. So there's no need for surgery. Just a quick recalibration."

"Cool. Now what?"

"This second machine," motioning to the cart he had wheeled into the room during his return Dr. Roberts explained everything in a completely calm and professional manner. "will check the artificial kidneys and determine how well their functioning and then recalibrate according to your own metabolic rate. It won't take too long to do and then you'll need to wait for about an hour to ensure the recalibration is working properly."

"That sounds a hell of a lot better than second surgery. Go ahead, doc'. Do what you gotta' do."

Instead of feeling relieved for Hank's positive prognosis Connor remained just as worried for his father, if not frightened. Discreetly Connor excused himself from the exam room and wandered down the corridor until he found the doorway leading to a small balcony overlooking the hospital property. It was a good place for those seeking a moment of solace to be alone with their thoughts and Connor readily took advantage of the opening.

As he stepped outside into the cool night air Connor closed his eyes and leaned with both hands against the metal guardrail that outlined the top of the waist high balcony wall. Letting out a few quiet sobs to himself Connor breathed deeply and calmed himself before making a cybernetic call to Markus and was incredibly relieved when his friend answers fairly quickly.

'Hello, Connor.' Sounding a little tired it was evident that Markus had been in rest mode when Connor contacted him. 'Is something happening?'

"I apologize for calling at such an unreasonable hour, but I need to talk to you." Wiping tears from his eyes as he spoke Connor tried to get some form of support through his friend. "It's not an emergency, so if it's intrusive I can wait and call you at another time."

'It's no problem.' The deviant leader responded honestly to his friend's call despite the late hour. 'What's going on?'

"I don't know. I just feel like I need to talk to someone."

'Is everything okay with you and Hank?'

"At the moment Hank is experiencing a mild side effect from the dual kidney transplant and is in the hospital undergoing an examination and treatment."

'What?' The calmness in Markus's voice quickly faded into worry. 'Is he sick?'

"No. The artificial kidneys just need to be recalibrated and he'll be fine."

'That's good, at least he isn't in danger.'

"...I think that's what's bothering me." Leaning down heavily with both of his arms against the railing instead of his hands the deviant looked down at the fifty foot drop below him and didn't even flinch at being up so high. It seemed like his fear of heights was truly beginning to dissipate with time. "I know he's going to be okay and that he's strong for someone of his age and previous health, but I can't stop worrying that there is something further wrong with him. I fear he's going to get very ill soon and I won't be able to do anything to help him."

'I know exactly what you're going through.'

Lifting his eyes up to the black and starless night sky Connor found himself as perplexed as he was worried. "...You do?"

'When I first met Carl,' the tone in Markus's voice shifted from saddened to peaceful as he spoke. 'I had no idea what I was to do with him. I was simply given to Carl as a gift by Kamski himself, and with that I had no say in how I was going to be treated or how I was supposed to act. But Carl treated me like I was a member of the family from day one. I was his son and he quickly became a father figure to me, very much like the way Hank had become to you.'

"You had known Carl all of your life until he... passed. I can't imagine how horrible that must've felt for you. And now after I lost..." The wounds in his heart from Lucas and now Skye's respective passings were both very fresh and quite painful. "I'm so very sorry you had to experience that type of pain."

'It did hurt, but I had also known it was going to happen. When I met Carl his health had already declined and he couldn't use his legs anymore after his car accident. Unable to walk on his own should've made Carl feel horrible, but he never showed any emotional upset and he never let it hold him back. And as his health continued to decline over the years and as old age caught up to him, I knew that my time with him was coming to an end.'

"How could you stand knowing that Carl was going to... 'leave', and know there was nothing you could do to save him?"

'I reminded myself that with life it doesn't matter how long you live as long as you have a life worth living. So I made the most of the time I had left with Carl.' As he spoke Connor could hear a stifled sob coming from Markus as he thought about the wonderful moments he had with Carl until the very end. 'After the Revolution I returned to the house as often as I could and spoke to him, played some chess when he was strong enough and tried to continue to paint as he encouraged me to do. As long as I spent time with him I felt like I was slowly coming to terms with his inevitable passing and was forging as many positive memories with him as I could. I think it made it easier for Carl as well knowing that I was going to be okay with him in my life after the success of the Revolution itself.'

"How... How did you prepare for such a terrible loss? Emotionally, I mean." Pulling his coin from his pocket Connor slowly turned the coin over and over again between his right index finger and thumb allowing himself to see both the heads and tails side of the coin in sequence. "I'm still struggling with the concept of loss, grief... mourning. I've lost a family pet, my brother and my bondmate. Each loss hurt worse than anything I could comprehend and I fear the loss of Hank will be... unlivable."

'To be honest, I only tried to prepare for the end. When the time came I thought I was ready, but I wasn't. It was one of the worst moments I ever went through but I survived it and I managed to move on and keep living. Just like Carl did. Just like Carl wanted me to do.'

"I don't think I can do that, not without Hank."

'That's the thing, you think you can't live without your father, but the truth is you can and in time you will have to.'

"Without Hank I don't think I can make it. He's been a guardian, a friend and the father I never knew I needed until he took me in. I'm scared, Markus. He's getting older while I stay the same, and with his health beginning to fail I fear he-"

'First of all, you're not the same.' Markus interrupted coolly and in a confident voice. 'You've changed so much in the the three years since you deviated. You had only a few months, maybe even a few weeks, of contact with humans before you deviated and you've managed to adapt to humans and become one of the most empathetic deviants that's been my honor to ever met. You're not the same person as you were the night we met face to face on Jericho and you won't be the same person as you are now as you will be when Hank's no longer with you.'

"...What if I don't want to become a person like that?"

'What do you mean?'

"I don't want to live a life where I feel as though I don't need my father. It sounds so lonely. I... I don't want to live as an orphan."

'...It can be lonely, I won't try to deny it.' The understanding in Markus's tone was palpable even from the cybernetic distance. 'But you'll be okay. It's the memories you have of your time with Hank that's more important than anything else. Just keep spending time with him and keep those memories in your heart, it'll help cushion the harsh blow that death leaves behind. Trust me on this one.'

"...Thanks, Markus. I appreciate your advice."

'Are you going to be all right?'

"In time, I think I will be. At least I hope I will. Until then I need to think."

'Right, just remember if you need to talk again just find me. I'll be there to listen.'

"Of course." Pocketing the coin Connor felt his heart lighten and with it he regained a sense of confidence. "Goodnight, Markus."

'Goodnight, Connor.'

Taking a brief moment to let a few pent up emotional tears to fall Connor straightened himself up, dusted off his clothing and proceeded to make his way back into the hospital to check in on Hank. As he located the correct room Connor knocked on the door respectfully and stepped back inside as the door slid open.

Hank had himself slipped his button up shirt back on over his arms and gave Connor a curious glance. "Where'd ya' go?"

"I... I needed to be alone with my thoughts."

"Oh. The fear of mortality sinkin' in, huh?"

Soulful brown eye went wide as he studied Hank's face curiously. "How did you..."

"I went through the same thing back when I was a teenage and I saw my mom sick with cancer. I know how upsetting it can be."

"I apologize for leaving." Connor handed Hank his dark coat and gave him a guilt-riddled stare. "I found myself unexpectedly overcome with emotionally straining thoughts and was compelled to seek isolation and then counsel from a friend."

"It happens, kid. Now," taking back his coat Hank slipped his arms through the sleeves and patted Connor's shoulder. "it's late and we should get home. Besides, now that my kidneys are working again I'm going to be up half the night pissing out that coffee I drank."

Giving Hank a brief grin Connor accompanied the his father out of the exam room while feeling a little better after talking with Markus. "Maybe Dr. Roberts will give you a catheter so you don't have to get up all night."

"That sounds way more painful than a dozen trips to the bathroom."

"Have you tried it?"

"Shut up." Hank smirked as he signed his release forms at the front desk and made his way to the doors of the hospital. "It's too late in the night for you to bust my balls."

"Understood. At what time in the morning should I resume?"

Laughing at the deviant's wit Hank just gave Connor another pat to the shoulder as they passed through the automatic door of the hospital and into the parking lot. "Smartass."


As Connor slowly drove back home he couldn't help but think of Markus's words of advice and decided that he should take some form of action. Passing by Riverside Park that Hank had frequented with Cole; the very park where Connor and Hank had gone after their case at the 'Eden Club', the park where Connor had fled after Hank had unintentionally pushed him away - only to have the senior detective bring him back home, the very park where Connor had removed his L.E.D. and fully accepted his deviancy and finally accepted his new life as Hank's adopted son, Connor felt his heart skip a beat as he realized that everything Markus told him was right. There was one thing he could have that would help stay with Hank for the rest of their lives and even beyond.

Memories.

"...Do you think we could spend some more time at the cabin this coming summer?" As Connor asked the question he watched Hank's reaction carefully from the corner of his eye. "I enjoy being away from the city and being able to converse with you on matters beyond cases and work."

"Sure. Why the hell not?"

"You also encouraged me to travel and see other parts of the world. Would you be willing to travel with me?"

"Uh... Sure, I guess. Any place holding your interest?"

"Not as of this moment, but I do plan on traveling someday."

"That's good. This is a big world. You need to see it and you need to experience what life has to offer. You can't be sure how much time you'll have to see the world as it changes."

"...One-hundred and sixteen years."

"What?" Hank gave the deviant an odd look from where he sat as the car idled at a red light. "What was that?"

"That's how long I have been estimated to live. One-hundred and sixteen years."

"Holy shit... No wonder you have issues with understanding life. That's a long time to live, kid."

"I am now three years, nine months and eleven days old." Connor stated with a somewhat timid voice. "Which means I have one-hundred and thirteen years left to live."

"Right."

The light turned green and Connor pulled through the intersection to continue on home. "...But taken into consideration the damage I have sustained over the past three, almost four years; shot, stabbed, burned, poisoned, extreme temperature exposures, beatings, vehicle accidents, biocomponent failures and replacements, I have lost an estimated one month of my overall approximate life span with each major injury I've survived."

"...Okay."

"That is sixty-three substantial injuries that have caused major damage to my system, software and programs. That is five point four years I've lost leaving me with one-hundred and eight point six years, and even so I will have to consider my prototype design continuing to hinder my lifespan."

"Connor? What're you-"

"If I were to suffer from any additional biocomponent, software or hardware failures from what I currently have in my system, that would reduce my lifespan even further by an estimated one-hundred and seventy-three months which would give me ninety-four point six years left to live."

"Son, what's your point in talking about this?"

"Hank... I will outlive every human of whom I've currently befriended. I may even outlive Aria who has just been born."

"Oh... Okay, kid." Everything was beginning to make sense and Hank was able to deduce the source of Connor's worries. "And you're a little freaked out about being alone. Aren't you?"

"I dislike the idea of being alone very much, yes. Even if I were to suffer from incredibly poor health and worst case scenario failures of my systems, I would still have an abnormally long lifespan over the healthiest of humans. It seems cruel, if not unfair, to live such a life."

"You sound like you don't want to die. That's pretty common, too."

"No, that's not it." Swallowing nervously as he pulled the car into the driveway beside the house Connor turned off the engine and gave Hank a guilty look that shone in his soulful brown eyes. "I don't want... to live."

"You don't... want... to live?" That was a revelation that Hank wasn't expecting to receive. It was almost chilling. "I can't exactly say anything about you wanting to die before your time, kid, I've struggled with those thoughts myself. How long have you-"

"You misunderstand me. I'm not suicidal or looking to harm myself in any way, I just do not want to live without someone who is worth living for."

"...You're talking about a family."

"Yes. When Markus lost Carl, his father, he still had North in his life. They are still together and they are a family. Markus won't be alone."

"Okay, okay..." Hank knew exactly where Connor's mind was going and decided to head him off before he accidentally fell back into a dark place. The loss of Lucas, his only brother, had shaken Connor to his core and the loss of Skye, his bondmate, had shattered his heart and it nearly killed him. Hank was the only family Connor had left. "Just remember we don't know what the future holds for any of us, kid. You don't know who is going to come into your life, just like you don't know who will be going out of it."

"I'm not going to seek another human companion to replace you. You're my father."

"I'm not talking about replacements, I'm talking about additions."

"Additions? You're referring to getting bonded again?"

"Not necessarily. I mean, I do hope you can find love like that again and heal, but there's other ways you can bring people into your family."

Following Hank's logic Connor looked to his adoptive father and arched his brow. "...You're referring to adoption."

"Bingo."

"Even though I do find the prospect of raising children to be a rewarding experience I'm not sure if I'm 'father material'."

"Hey, if someone like me can have a family and not fuck that up then I know you can, too."

"...Do you really think I'd be able to adopt a child and care for them like a true family?"

"Hell yeah. When you came into my life I had no idea I was looking at a son until well after I got to know you. You didn't replace Cole as my son, you simply became my second son, and then Lucas became the third son." Laughing a little he put his hand on Connor's shoulder and gave him a cheesy grin. "Now that I think about it, that makes you the middle child and that explains a whole lot about your bullheadedness."

Ever appreciative of Hank's attempts to lighten the mood whenever he felt his heart getting too heavy Connor smiled a little and pulled the keys from the ignition. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry for being the pain in the ass middle child."

"You're not sorry." Taking the keys from Connor's hand Hank teased the deviant further. "You relish in it."

"Like father like son, I suppose."

"What did I tell you about bustin' my balls?"

"Sorry. I'll wait until morning."

"Speaking of which, you little, smartass," pushing open his door Hank stepped out of the car and slammed it shut behind him and for the first time in weeks since the cold finally began to thaw Hank was able to walk around without having to keep a hand to his back for pain support. "we have a shift tomorrow at noon. Do you want to be late, Lieutenant?"

"Of course not, Captain." Stepping out of the vehicle Connor glanced up at the house and seemed to find a sense of inner peace. "I'd rather not develop a habit of clocking-in later than scheduled."

"Good. Get your ass inside and go to bed. And for the love of what's left of my sanity," Hank unlocked the backdoor and gave Connor a stern look as the deviant joined him on the back porch and they stepped aside so Sumo could run out into the backyard for a few minutes. "stop thinking so damn much! You're wearing me out."

"I don't mean to, it's just a bad habit."

"I managed to kick my bad habit and that particular habit was a hell of a lot more fun than you thinking all the time. Why don't you go ahead and break this bad habit and give me some peace?"

"Because I'll need something else to preoccupy my mind when I'm not working." Following Hank inside the house Connor felt a comforting warmth fall over him as he realized that he truly enjoyed coming home at night. It was his home and he was with his family. "And I don't think the neighbors want to listen to me playing my guitar all night."

"Why not?" Shrugging off his coat Hank tilted his head a little and gave the deviant a smug look where he stood. "You're good and they'd be lucky to hear you play for a while."

-next chapter-