DBH: Accident Prone - Becoming Human

by WayWardWonderer

Connor struggles to comprehend his newly found emotions and learns what it means to be human as Hank guides him along his journey of self-discovery as his deviancy evolves him into something more than a machine. Connor isn't indestructible and his impulsive, selfless nature to accomplish his mission will be the death of him, or even Hank, as he learns what it means to be alive.

38. The Bomb

The day was turning out to be tense and very unusual. A report of a possibly dangerous deviant roaming the halls of a modest twelve story office building downtown brought Connor and Hank to the unusual scene with very little information at their disposal. There were a lot of pivotal questions that still needed answers and the two detectives were determined to find them. The office building itself was located in an area of the city that had been known - almost infamously - for its anti-android policies. Such possibilities meant that there was still a lot of social hostility lingering in the area. The autumn air was thick with early winter snow covering everything under a layer of thin white and a palpable xenophobic tension that made the human and deviant detective both feel anxious upon their arrival at the scene to begin their investigation.

It didn't help matters when Gavin unexpectedly arrived on the scene with his usual impatient attitude to 'assist' with the search through the fully evacuated and cleared building. Whether Gavin volunteered out his mutual anti-android spite resonating through the neighborhood or if it was because he was attempting to brown-nose some rich contacts into donating funds to the precinct, only Gavin could say for sure.

The occupants of the building had been successfully evacuated and led to safety while the responding officers began their search for the supposedly dangerous deviant reportedly trespassing inside the building. After checking each of the floors of the building one by one for the mysterious deviant, the two detectives found no one of interest, but they did find an abundance of xenophobic bigotry marking each office and hallway that they examined.

"First week back on the job and we get called in to find one deviant in a building full of overpaid paranoid suits." Hank righteously grumbled as he and Connor walked through the first floor corridor together to get to the elevator to take them up to the twelfth floor. It'd be safer to start from the top and work their way back down to the front door. "I don't know what's more of a waste; our time or the taxpayer's money."

Connor didn't miss a beat as he provided Hank with a logical retort on the man's inquiry. "I believe that's entirely up to interpretation."

Together Connor and Hank had reached the top floor of the tall building and found no sign of anyone anywhere after combing through the corridor and connected offices and meeting rooms that had been left unlocked. There were no other androids beyond Connor on the premises, or any sign that any other androids had recently been through the office building in general.

"Did your scanner find anything, Connor?"

"...Possibly."

The deviant detective's blue L.E.D. flashed to yellow as he looked up at the white ceiling as his scanner detected a trace amount of something that registered as an explosive material. It was laying just beyond a single tile in the ceiling that was slightly out of place. Focused on his discovery Connor stopped short and stared straight up at the offending tile without blinking as he homed-in on the intriguing reading.

"Hm?" Hank turned around and followed Connor's gaze upward to the curious tile in question. "What's up?"

"I am unsure, but I believe it warrants a closer inspection."

Quickly Hank's instincts as a seasoned detective told him that Connor was definitely on to something. Planting his feet firmly Hank squared his shoulders as he dropped his hands down a little in front of himself and interlaced his fingers together as he prepared to support his partner's weight and help Connor get that closer look at the substance that had caught his attention.

"Yeah." The senior detective insisted as he nodded at Connor and then nodded to his hands to direct the deviant accordingly. "Here, I'll give you a boost up."

"My frame allows me to stand completely stable while supporting additional weight up to six-hundred pounds." Connor argued in a reasonable manner. "It would be more beneficial for me to support you instead."

"Yeah, but your balance is better than mine, you're lighter than me, AND you can see in dark places without a flashlight." Hank countered sharply without moving from where he stood in the middle of the corridor. "Up you go."

"Very well."

"...And I'm nowhere near six-hundred pounds."

Such a mumble caught Connor's ear and made his blue L.E.D. cycled to yellow for a beat curiously. "Pardon?"

"Nothing! Just get up there and take a look around so we can get outta' here."

Obediently Connor stepped forward and stepped down into Hank's strong hands as the senior detective hoisted him upward toward the ceiling. Putting one hand down on Hank's shoulder as the very strong detective lifted him up high enough to press on the ceiling tile, Connor reached up with his free hand to slide the already loose tile to the side before he peered up into the ceiling itself through the opening.

Hank looked up and watched as Connor peered into the opening of the ceiling to examine the small space that was glowing yellow from Connor's calmly pulsing L.E.D. shining through the darkness. "See anything?"

Meticulously Connor looked about the dark space that occupied the ceiling, his flashing yellow L.E.D. illuminating the area with a faint amber glow as his eyes fell upon a large metallic cylinder lined with various wires, small connected containers with liquid explosives, and a single trigger that had numerous failsafes protecting it.

"Well?" The senior detective was losing his patience as he awaited a response. "What's up there?"

"I see something that shouldn't be here for any reason." Running another cybernetic scan Connor confirmed the item in question and its overall purpose as that of a dangerous object. "I believe that I found the source of the unusual reading that my scanner had detected."

"What is it?"

"A bomb."

"Fuckin'... What!?" Hank immediately lowered Connor down to the ground, the abrupt movement caught the deviant off guard and made him sway a little as he put his feet back down on the floor in front of the senior detective. "Did you say 'BOMB'?"

"Yes." Replying calmly Connor confirmed his assessment on his discovery. The deviant detective knew that as long as no one tampered with the bomb or remotely triggered the device that he had no reason to panic. "It appears to be remotely activated."

"Shit! Find Gavin."

Taking control of the situation Hank walked over to the wall at the end of the corridor and pulled down on the fire alarm to cause the people lingering around outside of the building to evacuate from the area even further. As the alarm sounded off with an extraordinarily high-pitched screech Hank had to raise his voice in order to be heard over it as he spoke with Connor.

"Contact the precinct, let them know what's going on." The Lieutenant ordered as he did his best to keep the situation from escalating into something far more serious or dangerous. "We have to make sure everyone got out of here, and we need to do it FAST. Go."

"Done." Connor's still yellow L.E.D. had flashed rapidly for a few seconds as he sent out the distress call and filed the report. The blue L.E.D. indicated that Connor was as calm as Hank, and that he wasn't going to leave his partner alone. "Detective Reed is currently three floors down and is actively heading our way."

"Fine, we'll head him off on our way down as we finish checking these rooms." Being thorough with the investigative sweep of the building Hank pushed open an unlocked door to an empty room just to make sure no one was actually inside. "I'll take this side of the hall, you take the other."

"Agreed." Without any hesitation Connor mirrored Hank's motions along the opposite side of the corridor and began heading toward the staircase in favor of using the elevator. It'd be safer to use the stairs in the event that a detonation either knocked out the power or caused the elevator car to fall and crash to the ground floor with its occupants inside. "I'll confirm our search results with the fire department to ensure that no one is put in needless danger."

Working together, the two detectives painstakingly checked the top three floors and every room without skipping over any doors, all while heading downward from where the bomb had been located on the top floor. When they had reached the ninth floor the duo met Gavin who was approaching them with an angered and aggravated glare in gray-hazel eyes.

The hotheaded detective hadn't been informed of the possible bomb as the use of radios had been temporarily banned, and therefore disabled, in the event a broadcast could accidentally trigger the remote bomb before it could be properly disarmed and disposed. Such aggravation just fueled Gavin's anger as he looked for an easy target to take out his frustrations, and it seemed that Connor was going to be the perfect target.

"Lieutenant, what the fuck is happening?" Gavin shouted over the blaring fire alarm as he huffed toward the two detectives. Glaring at Connor standing beside Hank the abrasive detective was clearly looking for any reason to jump all over the deviant "What did you guys do?"

"There's a bomb in the building." Hank yelled in response as he and Connor continued to check the rooms lining the ninth floor corridor. "We need to evacuate and make sure everyone got their sorry ass out of the area before we can get outta' here, too."

"Shit..." Gavin frozen for only a second before he proceeded to help with the room check without asking twice. "The first six floors below us were already cleared because of the reported deviant. If anyone was still in here, they'd be at the bottom floors of the building and they gotta' be outside by now because of the fire alarm making everyone run off."

"Keep looking!"

Not wanting to cut any corners Hank ordered Gavin to keep up the search gruffly as he made his way past Gavin toward the next stairwell leading down to the eighth floor below where they were standing. Stopping short in the middle of his search Hank saw that Connor was staring through an opened door into a seemingly empty room at the opposite end of the corridor. Such behavior was very unusual for the deviant detective.

"Connor? What're you staring at?"

"The reported deviant." Connor replied sternly, his blue L.E.D. flashed to red suddenly as he alone witnessed something alarming inside of the dark room. "It's-"

A deafening explosion suddenly rocked the building as the bomb only three floors above from the responding officers detonated unexpectedly. Thick black smoke and bright orange fire erupted from the top of the building as the three floors above imploded downward and outward creating a gray plume of choking dust and debris that rained down over the streets below. Heavy metal and wooden support beams, slabs of drywall, portions of the floor and the ceiling above collapsed inward while the surrounding windows shattered into a cascade of thousands of tiny shards of sharp glass in all directions that allowed the interior debris to freely fall from the building toward the people outside.

Onlookers and bystanders on the streets ran for cover and away from the building as police cars, fire engines and ambulances bravely converged on the scene to aid those trapped within the radius of the detonated bomb, and to tend to the now burning building. It was chaos inside and outside the twelve story building as panic-stricken people rushed away from the danger seeking protection and fought to avoid the carnage.

The search for survivors and victims alike still trapped inside the building had only just begun...

---

Word of the bomb's detonation had spread through the city like wildfire and quickly reached the Central Precinct within seconds. The fire alarm that Hank had pulled had already summoned the fire department to the scene of the explosion before it had even taken place, but additional police officers were only now being dispatched to help with the mess and to help look for survivors. Knowing there were three detectives already at the scene of the catastrophe was a bittersweet knowledge, as it meant that help was already at the scene to aid the bystanders and potential victims, however, it also meant that the three detectives could've also been harmed in the initial blast and have become victims themselves.

Responding to the alarm with a calm and professional manner Captain Fowler confirmed that his three detectives were at the address of the building prior and during the detonation. The seasoned Captain began dispersing his patrol accordingly alongside the fire department. The quicker that Captain Fowler could find his own people in the mess, the better it'd be for everyone.

"Anyone who isn't on patrol is going to go to the office building downtown and help with the search."

Captain Fowler ordered as he took charge of the disaster as best as he could while standing in the middle of the relatively empty bullpen. It wasn't as easy as it should've been to coordinate search and rescue considering that his Lieutenant was already at the scene of the disaster.

"If you're on patrol, keep your eyes peeled for anyone who may have wandered away from the building as we're still looking for the suspect who planted the bomb. No one is above suspicion until we've had the chance to collect evidence."

The attentive officers and detectives all responded in unison to their orders and set out toward the building to begin their new assignment en mass. It wasn't their first disaster in the city, and they knew that it wasn't going to be their last.

"Cap'?" Ben approached Captain Fowler and gave his commanding officer a wary look as he lowered his voice. "The media is already reporting the bomb as a domestic terrorist attack." Nodding at one of the large televisions mounted on the wall just above the breakroom doorway Ben confirmed that the story was already on the news and gaining traction. "How do you want to handle this?"

"Keep all rumors just that: Rumors." Lack of confirmation on unfounded rumors was the only way that they could hope to keep panic from spreading. "We are not going to confirm or deny anything until we have any evidence."

"Right. I'll start damage control with the media and have my forensics team scheduled to work 'round the clock if necessary."

"Go do your thing, Ben." Speaking loud and clear Captain Fowler maintained a sense of confidence at all time. "I trust you."

As Ben walked away from his commanding officer Captain Fowler pulled his phone from pocket and sent a text to Hank to ask about what happened but the message remained unread. Repeating the same message for Connor and then Gavin, the police Captain was met with the same lack of response from all three detectives.

"Damn it..."

Pocketing the unanswered phone Captain Fowler put his hands to his hips and stared down at the floor blankly while his officers and detectives obeyed his orders and set out to assist at the scene of the bombing. The inability to check in with his officers at any given point was all it took to put Captain Fowler on edge.

"What the fuck just happened today?"

---

As the darkness swarming his vision steadily cleared Hank coughed harshly and fought to breathe through the dusty, smokey air surrounding him. Slowly he lifted his aching head up from the floor and struggled to look around the destroyed corridor and figure out what he had just endured. The explosion had sent Hank flying backward and he landed down hard on his back causing the muscles all along his spine to tremble from the harsh impact. Judging from the severe, chronic ache in his head and the lingering metallic taste of fresh blood in his mouth, Hank knew that he had also been rendered unconscious by the blast, but he couldn't tell for how long or how serious his own injuries were.

A steady weight against Hank's torso was indicative of heavy debris being knocked on top of him as the building's interior was torn to shreds. Lifting up his hand Hank pressed his palm over the foreign material and felt it give slightly under his touch.

"...Shit. This fuckin' sucks."

Using his hand Hank pushed aside a large piece of drywall that was resting over his chest and down to his hip as he slowly unburied himself while he laid alone on his back in the ruined corridor. Free of the pinning debris Hank coughed again and tried to breathe through the heavy air as best as he could. Rolling from his back onto his opposite hip he used his arms to push himself up from the ground as he gazed about the immediate area to take in the sight of the carnage, and to look for his two missing detectives.

The entire corridor was dark and smokey making it difficult for the human to see, but not impossible. Wires hung down from the unstable ceiling and sparked randomly in white and blue colors creating brief flashes of light in the darkness. Thick pipes jutted outward from gaping holes in the walls and dripped water or possibly leaked gas from being heavily damaged. The floor itself was littered with piles of debris that ranged in both height and depths depending on the material that had been collected in the mounds and their overall proximity to the explosion.

The interior building was an absolute mess and was surely beyond salvaging.

"...C-Connor?"

Hank called out as loud as he could and coughed immediately afterward. Clearing his throat he called out again in search of the missing detectives.

"Gavin? Can you hear me?"

"H-Hey!" From somewhere behind Hank, he heard a large portion of the debris get shoved aside as Gavin stumbled forward and joined him in the middle of the wrecked corridor. Covered in dust and clearly pissed off Gavin reunited with his superior officer in the middle of the corridor. "Lieutenant... Fuck! You hurt?"

"A few bruises." Hank admitted as he ignored the trail of blood running down the side of his face from a cut over his left eye. The taste of blood in his mouth was still prevalent but also went ignored. "How about you? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Gavin looked as beaten up as Hank felt. Numerous small cuts marred his face, neck and hands, but he was fully lucid and able to move about on his own with little difficulty. "What the hell happened?"

"What do you think happened, jackass? The damn bomb went off."

"Shit."

"Have you seen Connor?"

"No. I was looking for a way to get down the stairs when I heard you callin' for us."

"Stay here." Remaining in charge Hank ordered the hotheaded detective to stand back as he stood up slowly and set off clumsily over the debris on the floor in the opposite direction from where Gavin had arrived to look for his missing partner. Hank had a little more difficulty in moving than Gavin thanks to his sore back, but he was managing to traverse the obstacles on the floor just fine. "I'll check the other end of the hallway."

"Whoa, whoa! You want to risk your life over a piece of-"

"Shut the fuck up." Without hesitation Hank snapped at Gavin and gave him a death glare over his shoulder. "He's my partner, dipshit. No one is going to be left behind."

"It's a machine!"

"And you're a piece of shit. That doesn't stop Fowler from giving you a paycheck, now does it?"

"...Whatever." Scoffing at the insult Gavin put his hands to his hips as he pouted and stayed put as ordered. "If you want to waste your time lookin' for it, then by all means, go for it. I'm going to look for a way outta' here."

Annoyed but not deterred Hank resumed his search for his missing deviant partner. Making very careful steps to ensure he didn't fall or disturb anything that could cause a second collapse, Hank trudged through the corridor and checked every accessible area diligently before moving on to the next area.

"Connor?"

Hank continued to call out for the unseen deviant detective as he resumed his search. There wasn't any movement in the corridor beyond the dripping pipes, sparking wires and flowing smoke.

"Where are you? Answer me, damn it!"

As the senior detective ducked down under a low hanging support beam that had broken through the ceiling his eye caught sight of a faint red glow emanating from beneath a dusty layer of debris just a few inches from where he was standing. The glow was blinking on and off slowly as if it were a pulse or a signal. It was then Hank's heart skipped a beat as he recognized the source of the glow as an android's L.E.D. blinking in distress.

More alarmingly, Hank knew the glow was from Connor's L.E.D. and that his partner was in trouble.

"Oh, shit, Connor?!"

Hank quickly fell to his knees, ignoring the painful protest of the aged joints as he knelt on the hard, dirty ground. Without any hesitation Hank began hefting aside the slabs of drywall, splintered wooden support beams, metal pipes and shards of broken glass as he desperately dug his partner's body out from under the smothering pile of debris. The sight of the deviant detective's uncovered chest did little to ease Hank's worried mind as Connor was unburied slowly and carefully from beneath the rubble.

"No... No, no, no!"

The wounded deviant detective was laying on his back with his head lolled just enough to the left to let the red L.E.D. in his temple glow through the darkness created by the surrounding debris. His arms were splayed outward at his sides and his legs were straight and pinned beneath a heavy chunk of the collapsed ceiling from above. A massive blue stain of Thirium bled over Connor's white dress shirt atop his chest and mostly over his abdomen. Additional blue blood ran from the corner of Connor's mouth and from his nose down his cheek dripping down on to the floor beside his head in a growing sapphire puddle. There was a massive cut along his cheek as well that oozed blue blood steadily as he laid motionless on the floor next to Hank.

"Connor?"

With a light touch Hank patted the side of Connor's cold face, but the deviant detective didn't respond. It didn't even look like Connor was breathing. Turning back toward the corridor where Gavin had been searching for their exit, Hank called out to him over his shoulder as loud as he could to get some form of help.

"Gavin! Get your ass over here!"

Bending his head down Hank pressed his ear to the center of Connor's chest and didn't budge until he heard the distinct heartbeat like thrum of Connor's Thirium pump still miraculously functioning. While Connor's heart was still beating the deviant wasn't breathing, and with that lack of ventilation his core temperature was steadily beginning to rise to a dangerous degree.

"No, kid. Come on, wake up."

Uncovering Connor's arm from beneath the rubble pile Hank picked up the deviant's limp, cold hand and held it in his own as he called out his partner's name yet again hoping to get a response.

"Connor? Squeeze my hand!"

No response.

"Come on, I know you can hear me. Squeeze my hand. Just once! Squeeze my hand, son."

Still nothing.

Gavin rushed over the littered hallway as quickly as he could and stood behind Hank as he watched the senior detective rock back on his knees and proceed to try and push additional debris from atop Connor's torso. The massive Thirium stain spreading over Connor's chest and stomach made Gavin wince inwardly as he recognized the distinct blue tint as android blood.

"Jesus..." Staying back Gavin looked down at the prone body as Hank continued to unbury him. "Is it... dead?"

"No! He's still alive." Hank turned his head slightly to glare at Gavin, revealing the smear of blue blood staining the side of his face and gray hair from where he had rested his ear to listen to Connor's chest. Gently Hank placed Connor's hand back down on the floor as he focused on the remaining debris to free his trapped partner and get them some technical assistance. "He can't breathe. Help me move this junk off of him!"

"Breathe?" The idea of an android breathing was completely foreign to Gavin even after he heard about C.P.R. helping androids before. "What the fuck?"

Surprisingly Gavin did as he was told without protest. Working alongside Hank the two men managed to lift up and a slide the heavy slab of dirty drywall aside and away from Connor's body effectively freeing him from the smothering debris. Without the weight pressing down against his torso Connor would be able to breathe on his own, but his body remained just as still as it had been since Hank initially found him.

"Connor?" Hank tried speaking to his partner and friend again as he put his hand down lightly on Connor's bleeding abdomen. The lack of motion beneath his palm made Hank's own blood run ice cold. "Come on, son, breathe! You need to breathe."

"Seriously, it breathes?" Gavin stepped back at the horrific sight of Connor covered in his own blood. As much as he tried to pretend that seeing androids bleeding didn't bother him, Gavin was clearly affected by the macabre sight. "Fucking piece of plastic can breathe?!"

"Come on." Ignoring the abrasive detective Hank begged for the deviant to response as he kept his hand firmly in place on Connor's abdomen. "Just one breath, that's all I ask. One breath."

Despite Hank's pleas Connor remained motionless.

"Connor?" Applying a light pressure to Connor's torso Hank shook once and addressed the unresponsive deviant in a louder voice. Pushing down a little harder Hank hoped the pain or at least the motion would coax the Connor into resuming his ventilation functions to some degree. "Breathe damn it! I need you to breathe!"

A weak gasping sound escaped Connor's bloodied lips as he took in a shallow breath at long last. It was followed by another breath, then another as he slowly began to breathe at a steady but rapid and weakened rate. With the ventilation program now functioning Connor's risk of overheating dropped significantly.

"That's it." Hank encouraged as he released his own breath; a breath that he didn't even know he was holding. The weak motion under his palm managed to ease his fears but only in the slightest. "Good. That's good."

Falling into first responder mode Hank pulled his now bloodied hand back as Connor started to breathe on his own very rapidly and with great difficulty, but at least he was breathing again. With each shuddering, weak breath Connor took, more Thirium began to ooze from beneath his bloodied shirt over his abdomen only to pool on to the floor beneath his body in an ever growing cerulean puddle.

Gavin took another step back as the blossoming blood pool began to turn his stomach. "Shit. That's a lot of blood!"

"We have to stop the bleeding." With his instincts from emergency first aid training kicking in to full gear Hank pulled open the buttons on Connor's ruined white dress shirt to reveal the deviant's damaged abdomen beneath. What he saw was something he wished he didn't reveal. "Ah, shit..."

"Oh, man." Gavin put his hand over his mouth as if he needed it to keep himself from screaming or getting sick at the gruesome sight. "How the fuck is it still alive?!"

A gaping hole in the middle of Connor's abdomen exposed the numerous delicate biocomponents, leaking Thirium lines and damaged wires within. A massive collection of lost Thirium had collected in his abdomen and had been seeping out over the edges of the opening from his fractured plastimetal frame and torn artificial skin as his abdomen steadily filled with his own blood. Small blue sparks were visible as the exposed wires sent misdirected signals throughout the deviant's body and into nothingness.

Massive shards of metallic shrapnel from the bomb, as well as the surrounding room, had become embedded over Connor's body courtesy of the blast. Unfortunately, a majority of the carnage was seemingly focused primarily within Connor's torso where the deviant's vital biocomponents were placed. There was evidently a second explosion that had detonated in tandem with the bomb that no one had noticed. The shockwave of the explosions were waist high, as if sitting on a table or chair, and as it turned out Connor was just in the wrong place at the wrong time to receive blunt force trauma from the blast right to his abdomen.

"Shit, he's bleeding internally." Hank realized with a sick grimace on his face as he paled in fear. "We need to do something, fast."

Slipping his heavy coat from over his arms Hank set it aside and unbuttoned his bright blue and orange shirt beneath it. Wiping the palms of his hands down over the untouched black t-shirt underneath the dressier shirt Hank was able remove some grime and debris that covered his hands to try to keep things as sanitary as possible. Taking a deep breath Hank hovered his hand over the massive opened wound and prepared to drop his fingers inside the bloodied body before him in an effort to save Connor from irreversible shutdown.

"Okay, kid..."

Talking more to himself than to Connor as a means of steadying his hand, Hank prepared to do what needed to be done. The idea of reaching into Connor's torso as his chest struggled to rise and fall with his desperate ventilation was unnerving to the normally unshakable detective.

"I have to do this."

Reaching his hand into Connor's opened abdomen Hank felt for the pressure of leaking Thirium and used it to guide his hand toward the most severe damage. Using his fingers Hank located the main source of the bleeding and pinched it off tight with his fingertip and thumb. As he applied steady pressure he felt the bleeding stem, but he wouldn't be able to hold the pressure with his just his fingers and continue to help Connor.

"Gavin, I need your help with this."

"What!?" The very idea of going anywhere near the bloodied deviant detective was absolutely repugnant in his bigoted mind. "No way!"

"Yes! Come here." Hank snapped firmly as he used authority in his voice to make Gavin respond. "Wipe off your hands and get them as clean as possible. I just need you to slip off Connor's tie and hand it to me so that I can tie off the bleed in his stomach."

"...F-Fine." Gavin kept hie eyes as far away from Connor's face as possible as he wiped his hands down over his shirt and bent down over the downed deviant to loosen the black tie from around Connor's neck. Once he had the dressy garment free Gavin handed it over to Hank to use as requested. "Here."

"Now," Hank quickly grabbed Gavin's wrist and made him kneel down on the floor beside Connor. Forcing Gavin's hand down into Connor's abdomen Hank placed Gavin's fingers where his own hand had holding off the leak for the past few seconds. "just apply pressure. Do NOT let go until I say so."

"Ah, man, this is so nasty!" Caught off guard Gavin moaned as he closed his eyes tightly and tried not to think about the fact that his hand was inside Connor's bloodied body. The warmth and consistency of the Thirium felt exactly like human blood, and the feeling of Connor's weak breaths as well as the rhythm of the deviant's thrumming heart so close to Gavin's hand felt so eerily... human. "Sick!"

"Shut up!" Not in the mood for the unprofessional behavior Hank sternly scolded Gavin as he used Connor's tie to absorb as much of the leaking blue blood in Connor's abdomen as he could before wrapping the tie itself around the leak just under Gavin's fingertips. Using the strong fabric of the garment Hank was able to use it to tie off the damaged line - specifically Connor's right ascending Thirial line - and keep Connor from bleeding any further. "Okay, let go."

Absolutely disgusted Gavin pulled his hand back from the blood like he was trying to avoid a snapping bear trap. Keeping silent Gavin shook off his hand briefly and opened his eyes as he wiped off the blood on his dusty leather jacket, and watched as Hank expertly used the tie to stem the leaking line in Connor's abdomen. Hank wisely used the remaining slack at the ends of the tie to pack off the surrounding damaged bleeding biocomponents as well to ensure that the deviant didn't continue to bleed out.

"That should hold for a while..." Carefully Hank retracted his blue stained hands from inside Connor's torso and sighed as a majority of the bleeding mercifully stopped. "That should be able to bide him some time."

"H-How the hell did you know what do?" Impressed by Hank's resourcefulness Gavin kept his distance and tried to ignore the egregious amount of blue blood all over Connor and the floor at his feet. "What the fuck?"

"Because I've experienced this once before." Hank gave Gavin a blank stare as he answered curtly from where he knelt. "You never forget something like that." Motioning to the stairwell behind him with a thumb over his shoulder Hank issued his next order as he began tearing swatches of fabric from his blue and orange dress shirt to use as additional bandages in Connor's abdomen. "Go back over to the stairs and find something to make some noise with. Let search and rescue know where we are."

"Y-Yeah... Okay. As long as I don't I have to touch anyone else's guts!"

Attentively Hank packed the added fabric from his shirt into Connor's abdomen to try cover as many of the visible damage to his partner's biocomponents as possible without making things worse. The sight of Connor's chest and abdomen rising and falling frantically was a conflicted experience. The motion meant Connor was still alive, but it also meant that he was in great physical distress that his system was struggling to overcome.

Maybe Connor was also in pain. Deviants were capable of feeling pain, and it deserved to be acknowledged.

"Just hang on, kid."

Picking up his heavier coat from the floor Hank turned away to shake the dust off the garment and then draped it protectively over Connor's broken body to shield his opened wounds from as much airborne debris as possible. Hank sat on the floor near Connor's shoulders as he put his hand beneath Connor's head and lifted the unconscious deviant upward slightly, just enough to let Connor rest against his legs in a more comfortable manner.

"I'm here with you. It'll be okay, son."

The sound of Gavin shouting for help in the distance as he began banging a piece of debris, most likely a chunk of metal pipe, against the walls to try and make as much noise as possible to help the rescue team locate their location, echoed through the dim and damaged corridor loudly. Rhythmic banging accompanied with loud, demanding shouts created an obnoxious commotion that was sure to draw any search and rescue personnel to their location.

"Help's coming for us."

Hank stated calmly as he pressed his palm over Connor's forehead and absentmindedly ran his fingers through Connor's dark hair. With a ginger motion he picked up Connor's limp, cold hand again as he spoke to the deviant in a composed tone.

"Come on, squeeze my hand. I know you can do it."

Despite the request Connor's hand remained motionless in Hank's grip as the unconscious deviant failed to respond to anything beyond the errors and emergency stasis mode that he had entered upon being damaged.

"Shit... Just hold on a little while longer, okay? I'll get you some help."

Determined to save his friend's life, Hank stayed beside Connor for the countless minutes that ticked into hours as Gavin continued to call out for help and make as much noise as he possibly could to draw the search party closer and quicker. The blank, peaceful expression on Connor's face reminded Hank of the way that Cole used to sleep. It was actually one of the many ways that Connor reminded Hank of Cole. But this particular moment was especially haunting.

After all, Cole was sleeping all those times in the past, but right Connor was unconscious, possibly even dying.

Relentlessly Gavin pounded on the walls with his fist and the metal pipe as he continued to shout to the point where he was beginning to go hoarse from vocal strain.

"Hey, hey! Come on! We're right in here!"

Banging as hard as he could on the walls the detective was determined to get out of that building alive.

"HEY! IN HERE! RIGHT HERE! Come on already...""

Intense flashlight beams suddenly shone through the gaps between the large chunks of debris that blocked the doorway to the stairwell and illuminated Gavin's dirty, bloody face in a white beam of light. Two male firefighters had finally located the three officers and were preparing for emergency extraction of the trapped personnel.

"Hello?" A commanding, masculine voice called out to Gavin through the gap in the doorway. "Detroit fire department. How many are in your party?"

"Finally..." Gavin sighed as he tossed the metal pipe aside on to the floor at his feet. "Hey, get us out of here! There's three of us in here!"

One of the two firefighters who had found the missing detectives continued to address Gavin in an authoritative tone while the second firefighter radioed for help to the correct floor. "Is anyone hurt?"

"Uh..." Gavin was at a rare loss for words since it meant regarding Connor as a person. "I'm okay, but my Lieutenant took a blow to the head and his android partner is... uh... It's broken."

The second firefighter got on his radio again to request assistance to the floor, specifically for any available paramedic and technician to join them at the scene of the rescue.

"All right," the first firefighter directed as he took a form hold of his axe. "step back."

As the first firefighter raised his axe to swing against the debris blocking the stairwell Gavin wisely stepped back and rejoined Hank who was watching over Connor like a hawk. The detective didn't have any reason to be near the doorway as it was being chopped open by the firefighters.

"They'll get us out of here in a few minutes." Sitting down on a large pile of rubble next to Hank the usually surly detective couldn't help but feel bad for Connor, who was still lying motionless in a puddle of his own blood on the filthy floor. "So... How's he doing?"

"Still alive." Hank stated firmly without looking away from Connor's blank face. Diligently Hank had been watching Connor's breaths and made sure to occasionally check his heartbeat. "That's all that matters right now."

"Right... 'Alive'." The bitter detective nearly scoffed at the idea of Connor being a living person, but now wasn't the time to be a jerk or to debate. "...Whatever you say, Lieutenant."

"You know, Gavin, I can't tell you to stop hating something or someone, but I can ask you to lighten up on Connor." Hank turned to look at Gavin with a stare of discipline that didn't contain any aggression or even anger in his focused eyes. "I know you hate androids. Hell, I used to hate them just as much as you, but I can honestly say from experience that you're wasting your time and energy on hating them. They aren't just machines, they ARE alive. Connor is alive. It doesn't make any damn sense to hate something or someone just for living."

"Uh-huh..." Gavin didn't know what to say, or even how he could say anything at all to such an honest notion. Instead, he folded his hands together over his lap as he stared at the weeping cut above Hank's left eye with mild interest. "How's your head?"

"Killing me." Using his shoulder Hank awkwardly shrugged away the blood from his face as he spoke. "How about you?"

"Landed on my back against something hard." Reaching his palm to his lower back Gavin felt the tender spot from where he landed. "Definitely going to have a bruise tomorrow, that's for sure."

"Yeah, same. Then again, back pain isn't anything new for me to endure."

The blockage over the stairwell access door had been removed by the responding firefighters who aimed their flashlights at the trio gathered in the ruins of the corridor. Spying the large slab of debris that was pinning Connor's legs to the ground the two firefighters swiftly worked together to lift up and set aside the heavy weight, freeing the trapped deviant detective's lower extremities at last. The additional damage only made Hank wince sympathetically.

"You two," the first firefighter addressed both Gavin and Hank with a firm tone. "can you walk?"

"Yeah, I'm good to go." Gavin admitted almost excitedly knowing he was able to escape. "Show me the way out."

Hank shook his head slowly as he chose to stay back and stay with Connor. "I'm not going anywhere until my partner is safe."

The firefighter didn't like that response and tried to reason with Hank. "Lieutenant, we have to-"

"Forget it!" Hank refused to budge as he kept his eyes on Connor's face. He couldn't bring himself to leave Connor behind. "I'll leave when he does."

"Okay, fine, I don't have time to argue. Just don't get in the way while we work."

Grabbing Gavin's bicep, the first firefighter escorted the (slightly) more cooperative detective out of the corridor and through the stairwell to safety while the second firefighter stayed with Hank and Connor. Kneeling down beside the bleeding deviant, the second firefighter ran his gloved hands down Connor's legs to feel for any breaks or damage as he would with any human victim.

"Nothing broken." The attentive firefighter drew back his hands and saw that there was some Thirium staining his hands from the numerous cuts that lined all of Connor's lower body and back up to his abdomen. "But he does have numerous lacerations."

"It's not his legs you have to worry about." Hank reluctantly let go of Connor's hand, gently placing it back down on the floor, before peeling back the fabric of his coat to show the firefighter the massive abdominal trauma that Connor had suffered. "I stopped the bleeding, but he's already lost a lot of Thirium."

"Jesus..."

Grabbing his radio the firefighter requested a gurney be brought up to carry Connor out and to have the responding technicians meet them up on the designated floor. Carefully, he leaned over the wounds and checked Hank's handy work without disturbing the injuries in the process. Putting his hand down on the center of Connor's chest he shook his head incredulously at the sight of Connor's rapid, shallow breaths and still beating heart.

"How in the hell is this guy even still alive?"

"He's stubborn." Without even thinking Hank answered as he again picked up the deviant's hand again hoping to feel Connor finally squeeze back. "I know you're not a technician, but level with me 'cop-to-firefighter', what do you think his chances are?"

"Of survival? Honestly, I wish I could tell you. I've never seen android so broken like this, AND still alive." He then noticed that Connor's L.E.D. was still flashing in red which meant that Connor's systems were still functional but the red tint and massive Thirium loss were all signs in the negative. "I'd give his odds... one in five."

Never doubting Connor's resolve for a moment Hank decided those odds were better than anything else. "I'll take that bet."

Two additional rescue personnel, each carrying emergency satchels slung over their shoulders, finally entered the decimated corridor with a gurney and a backboard in tow. One was a paramedic to tend to Hank and the other was a technician who'd work on Connor until it was time to move.

"Here." The firefighter stepped back and prepared the gurney for transport while the paramedic and technician set about their work. "The android's in rough shape, I don't want to risk moving him until he's been stabilized."

The paramedic, a younger man with blond hair and brown eyes, knelt beside Hank and began checking his pupils for any sign of severe head trauma while also wrapping his fingers around Hank's wrist to check his pulse. "Pupils are sluggish, but equal and reactive to light." The paramedic, his name tag indicated his name was 'Johnny', announced confidently as he assessed Hank's condition easily. "Strong pulse, tachycardic at one-hundred and forty. What's your name, Sir?"

"Hank." The senior detective replied as he pointed to Connor beside him. "And he's Connor."

The technician, a young long-haired brunette woman with hazel eyes, pulled aside Hank's coat and looked at the extensive damage to Connor's abdomen to begin her own assessment. Without flinching the technician, her name tag reading 'Abby', reached into her satchel and pulled out a massive white bandage wrapped in protective plastic to use in Connor's aid. Ripping the plastic bag open Abby unfolded the bandage to double its size before she placed it down over Connor's abdomen, then used strong medical adhesive to secure the bandage in place over his artificial skin. Gently Abby then tilted Connor's head still resting against Hank's leg to the left so she could fully see his L.E.D. faintly glowing before she put her hand on Connor's chest to count his rapid heartbeat.

"Thirium pump is still functioning without error," she announced in a steady tone. "but his Thirium volume is dangerously low. He doesn't have the strength to activate his self-healing program on his own."

The firefighter observed the scene carefully before asking the next crucial question. "The fire above us is starting make its way down lower. Can the android be moved?"

"Yes." Abby confirmed without any skepticism to her soft voice. "But he needs to be lifted carefully otherwise it'll exasperate his internal trauma."

"Right, no problem." Clearing a spot on the floor the firefighter set down the backboard before moving over to Connor's legs to help slip Connor on to the supportive surface. "Lift on the count of three."

Hank nodded as slipped his arms under Connor's shoulders and Johnny put his arms beneath Connor's back for additional support.

"One," the firefighter counted down rhythmically. "two, three!"

Working in unison the three humans managed to lift Connor up from the floor just high enough to place him down against the firm support of the backboard without jostling him. Once in place Abby slipped the security straps attached to the board around Connor's legs, chest and shoulders as she was unwilling to put any unnecessary pressure over his damaged abdomen.

"Okay." Wisely Abby checked the straps one last time before she moved away to give the others some space to work. "He can be put on the gurney for transport. Move slow."

Hank watched as the firefighter and Johnny lifted the backboard at both ends and placed Connor down onto the gurney to be transported out of the building through the dirty and awkward stairwell. Connor's head lolled limply to the side as he was moved. He didn't react to the motion on a conscious level and his L.E.D. remained red in color even as he was stabilized.

Abby pulled her own radio from her satchel and made a report to her facility ahead of time. "The Zeta Facility is expecting Connor and will have everything set up for him before we arrive."

"Almost there, kid." Hank reassured quietly as tucked his dropped coat under his arm and stood beside the gurney. The senior detective was watching intently as the firefighter and the paramedic secured the additional straps on the gurney to keep Connor completely stable as he was taken from the destroyed building and out to safety. "Just hang on a little longer, okay? I'm here with you."

---

All of the trapped personnel within the bombed building had been accounted for and the evacuation was coming to an end.

Freed from the destroyed building Gavin was outside in the snowy air and sitting down on the bumper of the ambulance patiently allowing a second paramedic to clean the numerous and painful cuts that marred his face, his neck, and both of his hands. An oxygen mask was over his face to ensure he was able to clear the dust and smoke from his lungs to prevent a nasty lung infection from settling in. As his injured hand was being wrapped up in a protective layer gauze to keep the swollen cuts in his palm and over his knuckle from getting an infection, he glanced to the front doors of the building waiting for any sign of Hank or Connor to reappear.

Even though Gavin did his best to keep his emotions hidden he was clearly worried about his colleagues. There came a point where his pride couldn't bear the burden of emotional suppression any longer.

"Any word on the guys still inside?"

"Nothing yet." The red-headed paramedic sympathized as she pressed the gauze around Gavin's hand carefully. Her name tag said 'Mary' and her bright green eyes remained alert as she spoke to her reluctant patient. "I'll keep you posted if I hear anything."

"Yeah. Thanks..."

"Gavin." Captain Fowler spotted the injured detective being treated at the back of the ambulance and approached him with a hasty gait. The composed Captain's dark eyes were filled with worry and restrained fear as he checked in with the first of the three rescued detectives. "You okay?"

"A few bruises and cuts, nothing major, Cap'."

"What about Hank and Connor?"

"They were still inside when I was being taken out." Telling his commanding officer everything he could Gavin shuddered a little from the cold air while trying to unnecessarily maintain a straight face. "Hank's a little banged up, but Connor... He's in bad shape."

Captain Fowler immediately noticed that Gavin had referred to Connor as 'he' instead of 'it', which was either a sign of something very bad happening to Connor or a sign that Gavin had been concussed and was slipping up in his terms. "Where were you exactly when the bomb exploded?"

"Three floors down from the bomb itself, the ninth floor. Do we know what set it off yet?"

"Definitely a remote trigger. We're looking for the suspect now."

"We didn't see any deviants inside the building as we cleared it out. Did..." Glancing about the area as the other first responders tended to the people caught up in the blast Gavin waited to see if there was any sign of confirmed casualties. "Did anyone else get trapped inside?"

"Fortunately, no." The confirmation was only a modicum of comfort in the tense moment. "You three were the last ones inside the building."

"Guess that's something to be proud of. Last ones out and all..."

The gurney carrying Connor was wheeled through the front doors of the barricaded building with Hank at his side and the firefighter, paramedic and technician working together to get the injured deviant detective and Lieutenant to safety. Connor was still unconscious and in the faint afternoon light being obstructed by the snow clouds overhead, the damage he sustained look even worse.

"Shit. You weren't kidding." Captain Fowler could see even from a distance that Connor was in critical condition, and that Hank wasn't looking much better thanks to the dirt and blue blood all over his clothing. "Gavin, you and Hank are going to go the hospital to get checked over. I'll meet you there in an hour or so to make sure you're both cleared for active duty."

"Right, Captain."

Captain Fowler walked over to the android unique ambulance that was set to take Connor to nearest Android Emergency Care Facility - The Zeta Facility on Tenth Street - for treatment. Moving quickly Captain Fowler headed Hank off before he could stubbornly try to hop in the back of the ambulance alongside Connor.

"Hank, come on. You need to get checked out at the hospital."

"Jeffrey, I'm not leaving-"

"For now, you are." Stern in his orders Captain Fowler wanted his Lieutenant to be taken care of before anything else happened. Not a man without mercy the seasoned Captain made a simple agreement with Hank to ensure he didn't push himself too hard or ignore a possibly fatal injury. "Just get cleared at the hospital and then you can check in with Connor."

Before Hank could protest further Johnny put his arm out across Hank's chest to keep him from climbing into the back of ambulance after Abby climbed into the back to take care of Connor during transport.

"Relax Lieutenant, Abby is the best technician I've ever worked with." Johnny reassured Hank in a sincere tone of voice. "Your partner's in the absolute best hands."

Captain Fowler and Johnny forced Hank to step back as the doors of the ambulance were slammed shut right in front of the senior detective. Unable to see through the back windows to where Connor lying unconscious on the gurney, Hank begrudgingly watched the dark blue ambulance speed off down the street with his still unconscious and dying partner in tow.

"Come on." Captain Fowler insisted patiently with true compassion in his voice. Slowly but surely, he and Johnny managed to coax Hank over to the first ambulance where Gavin was still sitting to receive addition treatment and eventual transport to the hospital. "I want to know what the fuck happened in there before all Hell broke loose."

"Yeah, sure." Hank bitterly walked over to the ambulance to be examined as he answered Captain Fowler's questions about the bomb. "Not a problem."

---

Inside the back of the specialty ambulance Connor remained completely unconscious throughout the transport to the facility. The swaying of the vehicle speeding down the street and the loud screeching sirens weren't strong enough to pull the unconscious deviant back into the waking world. Extensive damage to his internal biocomponents, leaking Thirium lines, severed electrical lines, fractured plastimetal frame, and torn artificial skin prompted Connor's self-healing program to function at maximum capacity despite his low Thirium volume. The low volume and low power levels, all courtesy of Thirium loss and internal trauma, were making the ordeal all the more complicated for Connor's system to handle.

While Abby worked to replenish his dangerously depleted Thirium volume the technician reported on his condition to the facility via radio, informing the other technicians awaiting their arrival of the extensive, critical damage Connor had sustained during the explosion. It was when Abby was on the radio that Connor's back suddenly arched as he began to cough and choke on blue blood that had been collecting in the back of his throat.

"Oh, no you don't!"

Abby reacted quickly and pulled a small suction pump from the storage compartment to her side and placed the pump in Connor's mouth to drain and remove the excess Thirium to keep him from choking. The skilled technician had to move swiftly before the blue blood collected in his ventilation biocomponents and caused them to fail on him entirely or cause Connor to effectively drown in his own blood.

"You're not dying in the back of my ambulance after surviving a bomb explosion! No way."

As Abby drained away the blood Connor steadily relaxed and he began to breathe slightly easier without the obstruction in his throat. Where all the blood had come from would need to be identified after the deviant was admitted to the facility for proper treatment and repairs.

"Come on, now. Don't give me any problems while we're in the back of an ambulance."

Placing a small pillow under Connor's head and neck Abby lifted him up enough to keep the blood from collecting in the back of his throat a second time.

"Your partner seemed really worried about you."

Abby spoke to Connor in a very compassionate voice as she finished unbuttoning Connor's filthy dress shirt and used her audioscope to listen to his battered chest carefully. The deviant's Thirium pump was still beating but it was struggling, and his ventilation biocomponents were working on minimal power. The deviant detective's condition was beginning to deteriorate.

Securing two wireless leads to Connor's bare chest Abby turned on the synced Thirial activity monitor and watched Connor's Thirium pump rate, ventilation rate, Thirium pressure, power level and core temperature all being displayed with red tinted digits. Connor's vital signs were either too high or too low, and all of the numbers needed to be balanced before Connor would be able to reboot his systems.

"Don't disappoint your partner by giving up on us now, Connor."

The dedicated technician urged as she continued to tend to Connor's damage and help him remain stable while still en route to the Zeta Facility.

"I get the feeling that he really needs you in his life."

---

Understandably frustrated, annoyed and in pain, Hank angrily batted away the nurse's hand as she tried to adjust the bandage over the freshly stitched cut just above his left eye. Through the haze of his mild concussion, a wound he had either made a conscious effort to ignore or simply never noticed, Hank had already given his account of the events that had taken place to his Captain - events that Gavin corroborated himself - and was now waiting to be discharged from the hospital so he could go check on Connor a few blocks away. The last thing Hank wanted was to remain a patient and be treated with kid gloves by a medical staff wanting to give a detective special treatment.

Fidgeting where he sat on the treatment table in the private exam room Hank fished his phone over his pocket to check and see if Captain Fowler had sent him an update on Connor. The phone's screen was still blank despite Hank's highest hope. The lack of updates and information only made the senior detective feel like he needed to prepare for the worst and prepare to say goodbye to his best friend.

"I'm fine." Grumbling again Hank put his phone back into his dusty coat pocket and pushed the nurse's hands away again as she tried to readjust the bandage over his eye. "Stop fussing over me."

The nurse gave him a sympathetic glance as she pulled her hands back and decided to let him alone. "Okay, call if you need anything, Lieutenant."

"Yeah, sure."

Captain Fowler entered the room as the nurse left and folded his arms over his chest as he stared at his reputedly stubborn Lieutenant with righteous irritation of his own. The man knew Hank was terrible with waiting for answers and he knew that Hank was worried sick about his friend out at the Zeta Facility.

"At least that nurse didn't run out of the room screaming." The commander officer noted as he joined Hank for a quick update on the situation. "Nice to see you aren't taking out your frustration on nurses these days."

"Don't bust my balls." Ignoring his headache Hank tried to keep his attention on Connor at all times. "Is there any word on Connor?"

"Yeah, I contacted the facility that's taking care of him. They had to replace a few non-vital biocomponents and repair his thermal regulator that had been destroyed by the bomb, and then give him almost four pints of Thirium. He's going to be okay. The technicians also collected fragments of the bomb from his body for Ben's team at the lab to analyze."

"Jeffrey, don't try to act coy, I can see it in your eyes." Despite the concussion Hank was still as sharp as ever and knew when his friend was keeping something important from him. "What aren't you telling me? No bullshit this time. Just give me the straight, honest truth. What's wrong with Connor?"

"Right, okay." Captain Fowler took in a deep breath and gave Hank the respect of telling him the truth as requested. "During transport Connor started to choke on Thirium, which meant he started to bleed again. BUT it was handled long before he got to the Zeta Facility, and he didn't suffer any further complications."

"...But he was still bleeding internally?" Feeling like he didn't do a good enough job to protect his partner Hank blamed himself for the minor setback during the drive to the facility. "Fuck."

"Easy, he's in good hands. You'll see. Try to stop worrying about it."

"There's more on my mind than just Connor living through this mess."

"And what's that?"

"Just... as the bomb went off Connor was saying something about the deviant, but I have no idea what he saw." Rather despondent and feeling almost useless Hank just let out a weary sigh as he stared at his commanding officer and friend with utter fatigue glazing over his irises. "If Connor's in that bad of shape, then we may never know what he did see."

"Hey, Connor's going to make. Don't think like that."

"How can I not? His entire torso was blown apart and gushing blood with every damn beat of his heart."

"Right, his heart was BEATING. That means he's still alive."

"And bleeding out..."

"Look, the doctor said that you're good to go." As he spoke, he gave Hank a somewhat stern glance as if to say 'don't do anything stupid' as he spoke to the dedicated Lieutenant in a steady tone. "Go stay with Connor at the Zeta Facility and we'll piece everything together at the precinct, and you'll see it for yourself that he's still alive. Call me when he wakes up."

Sliding off the exam table Hank felt the muscles in his back tense up as the deep, purple colored bruise was beginning to form. "Yeah, sure."

"I'll hail a cab for you." Walking with Hank toward the entryway of the hospital Captain Fowler stood as a witness to let Hank sign the paperwork to discharge himself and go about his business elsewhere. "I don't want you driving with a concussion. I'll have someone pick up your car and meet you at the Zeta Facility."

---

The red tinted L.E.D. pulsed slowly in tandem with Connor's feeble heartbeat.

Slowly recovering and helpless Connor was lying in a set of clean mint green scrubs, completely unresponsive and motionless in the soft bed in the Zeta Facility's recovery wing as his attending technician hovered close by. A tube of blue blood had been inserted down his throat to replenish his depleted Thirium volume to a stable level, a nasal canula was under his nose to keep cool, fresh air circulating throughout his ventilation biocomponents, and the wireless leads were still in place on the deviant's exposed chest to monitor his vital signs. The Thirial activity monitor was keeping track of the rate of his heart, and other vital signs, as his Thirium pump continued to thrum rapidly to compensate for his low Thirium pressure.

In that moment Connor was still suffering from the effects of the android equivalent hypovolemia known as 'insipid shock'. Only when his volume was brought up to seventy-five percent would Connor's system be able to reboot in low power mode to allow his self-healing program to function at an optimal rate.

While the damage to Connor's biocomponents had been repaired with some of the non-vital biocomponents replaced entirely, the artificial skin covering his abdomen had yet to regenerate over the exposed and repaired white plastimetal frame due to the strain of his self-healing program attempting to repair the residual damage to his internal systems. Additional gauze wrapping was placed over his abdomen to keep foreign matter from entering his plastimetal frame or damaged Thirium lines until his artificial skin could finally regenerate properly.

At long last Hank was shown into the recovery wing by the facility's receptionist - one of the 'Jerry' models named 'Barry' - and was left alone with Connor. Leaning down over the bed where his downed partner was laying Hank spoke to the deviant detective kindly as if Connor was in fact conscious and alert.

"I knew you'd pull through, kid. But we still need to know what happened back at the building."

Carefully Hank picked up Connor's limp hand from the bed and held it firmly in his grip just as he had done at the scene of the explosion.

"You saw something before the bomb detonated, I know you did. What was it? Can you tell me what you saw?"

Despite his repairs and Hank's voice calling out to him, Connor was still quiet and completely unconscious.

"You were about to say something about the deviant, what was it?"

No response.

"Okay, kid, I can wait for you to tell me what you saw, but I can't wait to know if you can hear me."

Squeezing Connor's hand lightly Hank raised his voice as he spoke to his unconscious partner in a comforting tone. If he could catch Connor's ear, then Hank would know for certain that the deviant was going to recover.

"Squeeze my hand."

Once more Connor's hand remained limp in Hank's grasp.

"Connor, come on. I know you can hear me. Squeeze my hand."

Holding tight Hank begged for the deviant to respond.

"Please, I need you to do this, son. Just squeeze my hand."

As Connor's hand refused to budge Hank was about ready to give up and let Connor be alone to rest. Suddenly, a weak pressure around Hank's palm caught his attention. In a steady pulse Connor's L.E.D. flashed from red and back to a slightly healthier yellow as the pulse picked up in pace.

"There you are, I knew you could hear me!"

Hank tightened his grip around Connor's hand and put his opposite palm against Connor's forehead gingerly.

"I need you to squeeze my hand again and I need you to open your eyes. Please kid."

Steadily Connor's glassy brown irises appeared between partially opened, heavy eyelids and stared blankly at the ceiling above him. Blinking sluggishly Connor's body suddenly tensed up from the gnawing pain in his abdomen and he tried to move as if he could somehow get away from it.

"Hey, hold still, you're hurt. Just look at me and try not to move." Hank urged as he moved his thumb gently through Connor's hair; the rogue lock that always hung over Connor's left eye refused to be brushed back for more than two seconds at a time. The small direct contact and gentle voice was enough to get Connor to calm down and lay still again. "That's it. Focus on me."

Connor blinked again as his eyes slowly cleared and drifted over to Hank's face and stayed focused on his friend.

"I know you can't talk because of the tube going down your throat," Hank stated with an empathetic lilt to his voice as he kept Connor's focus on himself and off his current pain. "but I need to know what happened before the bomb went off. Do you remember what you saw just before the explosion? Blink if you can remember. Once for 'yes', and don't blink at all for 'no'."

Connor's eyes moved from left to right a little before focusing back on Hank's face. Blinking once to acknowledge a 'yes' his eyes remained fixed where they were as he searched Hank's face needing some answers of his own.

"Good. You said something about a deviant just before the explosion." Hank recounted in an even tone. "Did you actually see the deviant in the room?"

Connor didn't blink.

"Okay, you did NOT see the deviant, is that right?"

Connor blinked 'yes'.

"Progress at last. What did you see then?" Hank's brow furrowed a little as a strange question popped up in his head. "Another person. Did you see another person?"

Yes.

"Not an android, though, a human?"

Yes.

"An office worker?"

No response.

"A member of the custodial staff?"

No response.

"The report from the person who called the cops had stated that it was a deviant on the premises..." Thinking about the details and what they could've overlooked in their initial investigation Hank came up with a bleak theory to explain the situation as whole. "Wait, Connor, was the person you saw dressed to look like an android? Is that what you saw?"

Connor blinked 'yes' again and managed a weak nod without pulling on the tube running down his throat.

"Ah, shit. I knew that neighborhood hated androids, but to think they'd make a bomb and blow up a building just to frame one..." Hank squeezed Connor's hand again in distressed aggravation. The lengths that some people went through just to prove a spiteful point was astonishing. "If there was another person in the building then why didn't they find a body after the detonation?"

Connor tried to speak but he only choked on the tube inserted down his throat immediately silencing his words. His free hand reached up toward his throat and then his mouth as if he were going to try to remove it and clear his airway.

"Whoa, whoa, don't do that." Lightly Hank took his hand from Connor's hair and rested it on the deviant's chest. "It's okay, we'll figure this out. The technicians removed bomb fragments from your body, and the fragments were sent to the lab at the precinct for analysis. Will that help anything?"

Connor stopped fussing with the tube and blinked 'yes' upon hearing the question. He didn't want to make his condition worse by mistake while trying to answer Hank's questions to the best of his ability.

"Good. What should we look for?"

Quickly Connor's eyes darted down suddenly then back up at Hank as he lifted his free hand and made a writing motion in the air.

"You can write it down?"

Yes.

"Perfect." Softly Hank laid Connor's hand back down on the bed as he took a small paper notepad and ink pen from his coat pocket. Clicking the pen first Hank placed it in Connor's hand and held the pad as still as possible for him to write on. "Okay, tell me what happened."

Despite his weakness from his Thirium loss the injured deviant detective managed to perfectly write and spell out every word, every detail in perfectly legible 'CyberLife Sans' on the pad. When he finished, Connor took his hand from the notepad and blinked again to let Hank know that he had finished.

Hank turned over the notepad to read what Connor had written down only to shake his head in disgust.

"Great... Just great. I'll call Fowler and let him know what you uncovered."

Softly Connor nodded again to acknowledge Hank's words.

"Just rest a little longer, okay? Then I'll see if I can take ya' back to the house to rest in private."

Connor blinked 'yes' and then let his eyes shut slowly to slip back into his rest mode to continue to heal. It didn't take much to coax the deviant into falling asleep considering the severity of his condition after such an exhausting, messy day.

"Good work, son."

Patting Connor's arm in approval Hank quietly took his leave of the recovery room to allow Connor to continue to rest.

"You did damn good today. If you didn't make it, then I don't think I would've been able to handle this case and I would've retired early."

---

After an hour in to Connor's steady recovery the technician who had treated him at the scene returned to the recovery wing to extricate the tube from Connor's throat much to the deviant's relief. With his Thirium volume restored to one-hundred percent and his system functioning at normal power parameters, it was deemed safe for Connor to have the tube extracted. Having the tube removed would give him the freedom to speak normally once more. In that time Hank had stepped out of the room and into a quiet area of the facility to call Captain Fowler at the precinct and inform him of Connor's statement. Within that same hour the criminal responsible for the bomb had been identified and located.

It was good news all around as Connor awoke under his own power and a dangerous man was pulled off the street. A positive end to an otherwise negative day.

"Okay, Connor. We can take this out now." Abby stated confidently as she began to slowly pull the tube out of Connor's throat. "Coughing will help and ease the pain and make extubation much smoother. When I start pulling, you cough."

Connor nodded weakly and began to cough as instructed by Abby as she removed the tube with a steady pull. The tube was removed, and he instantly put his hand to his sore throat once it was gone at last.

"There we go!" Abby praised as she successfully extracted the tube. "Nice and easy."

"I got ya'." Hank put his hand on Connor's back as the deviant carefully sat upright on the table and caught his breath after coughing for a few more seconds. Connor's abdomen was still wrapped up and sore, but he was able to move about with only modest difficulty. "You did real good. We caught the asshole responsible for the bombing."

Hank told Connor about the investigation and arrest while he was unconscious. The criminal was in fact a human who had lost his job due to layoffs at the office thanks to poor profits, though the man was convinced it was because of androids. The man had lost his job just two weeks before the Revolution and had been holding a grudge against deviants ever since. Attaching a spare L.E.D. to the right side of his head the man entered the building disguised as a deviant delivery man with a bomb hidden in a package. He stashed the bomb in the ceiling of the top floor since it had been shut down due to budget cuts, and he hid in another room of the building to detonate it remotely.

Unfortunately, the man's bomb had only partially detonated when triggered, which is why only the top floors of the building were damaged and not the entire building as a whole. Because the bomb failed to detonate at its full strength the man wasn't killed in the explosion as he had planned on, and he had been forced to sneak out with the other office workers when the fire department checked the building for survivors.

The fingerprints found on the inside of the still intact bomb casing, as well as the remote detonator, connected the man directly to the attack and ensured he was sentenced to life in prison. The cowardly man was found hiding in his bedroom closet in his apartment with soot and smoke still covering his burned, bloody clothes that matched the description of the uniform that the suspect had been wearing at the scene. As expected, the man surrendered without a fight.

Connor nodded slightly again as he responded to the positive news with a very hoarse voice.

"G-Good." Too pained to speak in full sentences just yet, Connor pointed to the bandage over Hank's left eye as he allowed Abby to use her audioscope to listen to his breathing where he sat. "...Hurt?"

"Just a cut. You're the one who got blown up." Hank sheepishly shrugged his shoulders as he watched Abby finish listening to the deviant's battered, sore chest through his scrub top. "Mostly, anyway."

"Move slowly." Abby urged as she removed the wireless leads from Connor's chest then slipped back down the scrub top. Moving gingerly Abby helped Connor to slide down off the bed and onto the floor to stand up on his own. "Stay put and let your gyroscope recalibrate for a minute before you try to walk. Even then, you need to go home and rest. Lay down, sleep and drink Thirium whenever your reserve uses up ten percent of your reserve to keep your self-healing program functioning at its fullest capacity."

Abby had spoken with the other technicians who had previously had Connor as their patient, and she gave him clearance to return home to rest provided that he had someone to keep a watchful eye on him in the event that his system began to reject his replacement biocomponents. The bandages were to remain in place as well until his artificial skin fully regenerated, and his system finished running the self-healing program entirely. It was strictly a precautionary measure.

"Remember, you're still recovering." Abby needlessly reminded Connor gently as she kept her hand on his upper back in case he became dizzy. Watching Connor standing upright without toppling over was a good sign, and Abby was convinced that he'd be just fine. "Take it easy for the next forty-eight hours and don't physically exert yourself in any way. And yes, that does mean you need to ask for help every now and then - it isn't selfish."

Connor nodded to acknowledge Abby's instructions as he took a single shaking step forward toward the door to the private recovery room. With Hank right at his side the healing deviant detective knew that he was in good hands.

"Any weird side effects I should know about?" Hank asked Abby in an almost fatherly manner as he watched Connor sway a little on his feet before he regained his balance. The deviant didn't stumble or show any other sign of weakness. "You know, just in case he needs more help."

"Aside from fatigue," Abby replied nonchalantly to the logical question as she escorted the two detectives toward the exit. "he might experience mild overheating as a result of the numerous replacement biocomponents that his system needs to fully register. Of course, his thermal regulator being repaired is also going to result in sporadic overheating. Maybe a little Thirium rejection as well, since so much of it was replaced in such a short frame of time."

"Oh." The delicate recovery process sounded as exhausting as Connor already looked. "Sounds... interesting. Do you think I'm qualified to take care of him?"

"Yup. If he overheats treat it like a fever and help him stay cool."

"Okay, that I can deal with. We've both survived nasty sicknesses in the past together."

"If you think he needs to be re-examined by a technician, then here." Handing Hank a business card with an emergency phone number on it, Abby patted Connor's arm once and nodded at Hank as if to confirm that she wasn't just blowing smoke. "I'm just a phone call away."

"Thanks." Hank pocketed the card and turned to look at his partner after giving Abby an appreciative smirk. "Come on, Connor." He gently put his hand on the still healing deviant's shoulder to help guide him out of the facility and toward the parking lot outside. "The cab's waiting out front. We'll get the Oldsmobile later."

Connor nodded again as he walked slowly, his hand was pressed against his still sore abdomen as he took another step forward.

"You know, Captain Fowler said that because this nut-job tried to frame androids as the ones responsible for the bombing, a massive donation of charitable funds toward New Jericho has been pouring in all evening from sympathetic pro-android supporters." The irony of the situation wasn't lost on either of them, and it actually amused Hank to an extent. "Turns out this guy's master plan was far from masterful."

Clearing his sore throat Connor's yellow L.E.D. finally turned transitioned back to its healthy blue color as relief fell over him. "...At least we know we have allies on the street. Not just at New Jericho."

"Yeah, you're right." Sighing with a heavy tiredness Hank stepped outside the front doors of the Zeta Facility with Connor walking at his side. "By the way, since Gavin was also at the scene of the explosion, Fowler gave him the responsibility of filing the report on this whole bullshit ordeal while we recover at home."

"Gavin's going to be pissed." Connor's voice was already regaining strength as his self-healing program kicked in. The more he sounded like himself the better both of the detectives felt. "Should we feel bad?"

"Don't worry about Gavin." Another grin appeared on Hank's face as he and Connor reached the idling autonomous cab outside. The evening air was calm, cool and inviting as the two detectives entered the cab side by side to sit in the back of the vehicle. "I get the feeling that after today he's going to start seeing androids in a whole new light."

"And why is that?" Sitting down slowly Connor fastened his seatbelt and flinched slightly as the protective strap over his sore abdomen tightened. The last thing he wanted to do was reopen his wounds by accident. "Because of the deranged human?"

"No, I think today was the first time that he ever saw an android as a living, breathing being." Hank put in the house's address into the G.P.S. the cab pulled out of the parking and onto the street to head for home. "He knows that you're not just a heartless machine or a bunch of plastic. You ARE alive."

"I'm glad that you already see me as such." Resting his palm over his chest Connor felt the steady thrum of his beating Thirium pump. The beat was much calmer and Connor was able to breathe with only minimal discomfort. "I assure you that deviants do in fact have hearts."

"Yeah, I know." The way Connor responded so humanly and looked so helpless after being injured was a haunting sight that Hank hadn't anticipated ever seeing in his very unusual lifetime. He never wanted to see his friend in such a state for the remainder of either of their lives. "I just hope that I don't have to see your actual beating heart in your chest ever again, son."

Reflexively Connor lightly lowered his hand from his chest and over his abdomen where he could feel the bandages under his scrub top and agreed entirely with Hank's wish as a light dusting of snow began to fall from the dark gray sky overhead. "The feeling is mutual."

---

The city was buzzing with the story of the bombing on every news channel in Detroit. Not only had the threat been deemed a domestic terrorist attack by the media, but the office building being destroyed by the bomb had been labeled as such by the investigating officers. The arrested suspect's anti-android sentiment had made it very difficult for the lingering anti-android bigots still plaguing Detroit to garner any sympathy, and they were finally being quiet. Anyone supporting a person who had no issue with destroying a building, putting countless lives at risk - both human and androids - and trying to demonize and entire group of people all because of their own personal losses, was sure to lose friends and colleagues very quickly. The only good outcome of the bombing was the lack of casualties beyond three detectives being wounded and trapped in the damaged building for a few hours.

Sitting together on the couch Connor and Hank watched the news report and tried to ignore their mutual sense of pain as they recovered. Hank being concussed for the second time in less than one month's time made his head ache with an unparalleled intensity, whereas Connor having his entire torso damaged, blown open and burned had left the deviant pining for the machine-state that he once bore that prevented him from feeling pain whatsoever.

"Another dumbass bites the dust." Hank sighed as he pressed an ice pack to the left side of his head to keep the cut above his eye from bleeding and to try to keep his headache from reaching a new level of suffering. Glancing over at Connor beside him, Hank smirked at the way Connor was hugging his own ice pack to his chest and abdomen. "I know it doesn't feel like it right now, but today was a good day's work."

"I'll be more open to believing such a statement tomorrow."

"Hurtin' that much, huh?"

The deviant detective did his best to not jostle his injuries as he spoke with his friend earnestly. "Yes."

"How's your temperature?" Without waiting for an invitation Hank pressed the back of his hand to Connor's forehead for a minute then returned his hand to his lap to rest more comfortably. "Feeling feverish?"

"Overheating." Connor corrected as he let out a small sigh and moved the ice pack up to the back of his neck. "And only marginally so."

"Think you'll need to see a technician before we get back to work in a couple of days?"

"No, I'll be all right." Carefully Connor leaned back against the couch cushion and used the furniture to hold the ice pack in place without him needing to use his hand to grip it. "I have every reason to believe that Dr. Grayson's methods were appropriate and effective regarding my condition."

"Grayson?" Hank wasn't familiar with that particular surname and needed to be certain of who they were discussing. "Is that Abby's last name?"

"Yes." The deviant detective confirmed again as he looked over at Sumo napping on his pillow in the corner of the room enviously. The idea of sleeping so deeply as to not even acknowledge other people in the house seemed beyond appealing. "I learned her name while under her care in the Zeta Facility."

"And with you checking in to the Zeta Facility, you've officially been a guest in every major Android Emergency Care Facility in Detroit."

"That's not something worth bragging about." Connor acknowledged with a twinge of embarrassment to his voice. "However, of the facilities that I've been admitted to, I believe I prefer the Zeta Facility over the Gamma, Delta, and Epsilon Facilities."

"Yeah?" Seeing an opportunity to tease his socially shy friend Hank flashed Connor a cheeky grin and propped his feet up on the coffee table. "Does that have anything to do with Dr. Grayson working there?"

"Yes, I find Dr. Grayson to be an excellent technician despite still being an intern and working primarily as an E.M.S. between her shift rotations."

"That makes sense." Remaining coy Hank pushed Connor's attention in a different direction to see how he'd react. "She's also pretty."

"That is also true." The oblivious detective confirmed in a casual voice. Connor was unaware of Hank trying to get him to think about the human in a new way. "I fail to see how a person's aesthetic has any effect on the quality of their work."

"Oh, it doesn't have any effect on a person's work." Hank replied sharply as he too sank back against the couch to get more comfortable. "But it can have an effect on the patients who show up for treatment."

"The patients?" Connor's brow furrowed slightly as he turned to look at Hank and tried to understand what Hank was saying. "Why would the patients-" It was like a switch flipped and Connor suddenly understood what Hank was implying. "Oh. Well, in spite of my ability to feel emotions and perceive people as attractive, I don't-"

"Relax, son. I'm just joking." Finally Hank got the reaction that he was hoping for, and he started chuckling in response. "You can be professional about having a personal doctor, or in your case, a personal technician, and still admit that they're physically attractive. When I was younger, I took every chance that I could to head out to the hospital and try to make friends with a special nurse. Any time a cop needed stitches, needed to have a sprained wrist or ankle checked out, or get an exam after getting roughed up while on the job, I was the one who always tagged along for every wellness check."

"And did you... successfully befriend that particular nurse?"

"Nope. Turns out I wasn't her type."

"Type?" That concept wasn't one that Connor was familiar with in regard to humans and romantic attraction. "What type is that? Detective? Blue eyed?"

"Male." Hank confirmed with a cocked eyebrow as he explained the past interaction. "Wanna' talk about a bomb being dropped, that was the first one that I survived when I realized that I never had a chance with her no matter how much I turned up the charm."

"Oh. That must've been an interesting albeit disappointing experience."

"On the upside, I got an invitation to her wedding two years later. Kick-ass reception too. Not sure where she and her wife ended up, but I like to think they're still happily together."

"Regardless of my personal emotions still developing, I've yet to see another person in that particular manner." Connor confirmed as he contemplated any attempts at experiencing a new aspect of his personal growth. "And to be honest, I'm not sure if I ever will."

"Which is fine. There's a lot of asexual and aromantic people living perfectly healthy, happy lives. Don't feel like you need to throw yourself into the complicated world of dating and romance just because someone suggested it." Readjusting his ice pack Hank decided to look for something else to watch on television and stop thinking about what had happened during the day. "I promise you that if you're still learning about your emotions, that taking on such a new, challenging experience is only going to make things all the more complicated for you."

"I'll take your word on that." Settling in for the evening Connor watched as Hank flipped through the channels on the television in search of something to watch that didn't mention the day's bombing. Escapism was important to avoid mounting stress and emotional breakdowns. "I suspect that I'll have many other new challenges that I'd prefer to overcome before I even attempt to try such an emotionally challenging endeavor such as dating."

"Good move. Almost as good as you finding the bomb hidden in the ceiling when you did." The compliment was entirely sincere as he settled on an old television series and turned up the volume a few notches. "If you hadn't found it so quickly, then we could've been much closer to the bomb when it exploded. I'd hate to think about what could've happened if we were any closer to ground zero."

"Had you not pulled the fire alarm to cause the evacuation to spread, then the odds of other people becoming injured or killed would've increased to sixty percent with a twenty-two percent increase in potential fatalities. Also, the alarm alerted the fire department to the situation before the bomb had been triggered, which also gave us the advantage that we needed in order to survive being trapped in the ruins of the building."

"We both did good then." Such an outlook helped Hank to relax a little more where he sat without needing to put in much effort. The simple things in life really were the best way to unwind after a stressful, hectic day and series of events. "I guess we really do make a good team even when shit gets tough. That's what's important at the end of the day."

"I agree with that assessment." Connor tagged on as he scanned the details on the television screen to identify the show that Hank had selected - a medical drama from the early 90s. It was interesting how Hank could loathe hospitals in his daily life but still find entertainment in shows and movies with such a setting. "Hopefully over time our partnership in the precinct and our overall friendship won't be scrutinized in such an impersonal and offensive manner by people who are closedminded or unwilling to even try to understand that humans and deviants truly aren't that different from one another."

"We'll see, kid." The Lieutenant didn't want to get his hopes up, but he didn't want to be skeptical of the future either. "Even after having a building downtown blown-up and a domestic terrorist put behind bars, it seems like we'll never get used to having bombs dropped on us in one way or another."

-next chapter-