It had been a rough morning for Hank and Connor as they set about their usual routines and reported to the precinct to begin their shifts. However, what should've been a normal morning for the two detectives was full of problems that just seemed to be getting worse as the strange day went on. A late night storm had laid waste to the house just hours before the two detectives were set to begin their morning, and a rogue tree branch snapped off its limb in the neighbor's backyard causing it to smash over the hood of Hank's Oldsmobile in the side driveway. To add insule to injury, an uprooted tree tipped over from the second neighbor's property and broke through the exterior siding of the house directly into the kitchen.

Hank had to spend three hours on the phone talking to two insurance agencies about the damage to his house before he even had the chance to shower off and prepare for his day at the precinct. It didn't help that the damage to the side of the house had also caused issues with the power, which in turn made the phone call even more tedious. The second phone call regarding the car insurance wasn't much better than the call regarding the house and property insurances, not that the seasoned detective was surprised by the repeated inconveniences.

Connor had spent the morning cleaning up the broken glass and the wooden splinters from over the kitchen floor before hanging a tarp up over the massive hole in the wall and broken window to protect as much of the interior of the exposed house as possible from additional snow and ice. Poor Sumo had to be kept in the laundry room for the day to ensure he didn't go anywhere he wasn't supposed to go or cut up his paws on any possible missed sharp shards of glass on the floor.

After arriving in the precinct via autonomous taxi, Hank sat at his terminal fuming as he read over his current bank statement and realized how much the repair to his car was going to cost him on top of the damage to the house, not to mention the spike in his insurance premium and the overall water damage to the house courtesy of the melted ice that had accompanied the storm and contributed to the structural damage. During that time, Connor had been cybernetically keeping tabs on the repairs to the house with the deviant assisting the human repairman, and he decided to give his upset partner an update on the process to try and make Hank feel a little better about their hectic day.

"Hank, the repairs to the house have been nearly finished and it should cost two-hundred dollars less than originally estimated."

"Great! Then I'm only out nine-hundred bucks, instead of eleven." Leaning back in his chair the disgruntled senior detective sighed with great frustration and took in a deep breath as dared to ask about another pricey expense. "What about the car?"

Connor's blue L.E.D. flashed to yellow as he connected with the garage working on the Oldsmobile and received an update.

The hesitation in Connor's soulful brown eyes was all that Hank needed to see to know it was bad. "Well?"

Not wanting to further upset Hank by accident Connor cleared his throat nervously before responding. "It'll be seven-hundred and fifty-six dollars for parts, labor and the cost of towing."

"FUCK." Hank swore loudly as he pounded his fist down angrily on his desktop drawing the attentive eyes of the surrounding officers in the bullpen to look his way. The other officers were familiar with Hank's temper and didn't even attempt to try to cheer him up. "Great, just fuckin' great..."

"I'll happily deposit my funds into your account to pay for the damages to the house and to the car. After all, I live there as well, and I use the car almost as much as you do."

"It's not that." The senior detective bitterly huffed as he took in another breath to try and steady himself. There was no use in getting angry at a situation that he couldn't control or change. "I can pay for the repairs just fine Connor, it's just... I have to be somewhere very important soon and if I can't make the drive then I'm royally screwed."

"Oh." The deviant detective was unaware of Hank having plans elsewhere during the day. He could understand why having his mobility suddenly limited would cause such emotional upset. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine. But speaking of funds..." With an annoyed gesture Hank stood up from his chair and grabbed his coat from the back of it as it spun about in a slow circle from the abrupt motion. "I'm going to make a few transfers at the bank to make sure I don't get fucked over by any overdrawn fees or some other bureaucratic bullshit. That's the last thing I need."

"Do you want me to come with you?"

"No, stay here." Slipping on the coat Hank dismissed the polite offer with a casual response. "If anything important happens, call me and I'll meet you at the crime scene with another cab so Fowler doesn't lose his shit on us. The last thing we'll need is Fowler breathing down our necks."

"Very well." Patient and understanding Connor remained at his terminal as requested and resumed his work while Hank begrudgingly took a trip to the bank. The deviant's yellow L.E.D. shifted back to blue for a moment before blinking back to yellow. "What should I tell Captain Fowler about your unscheduled absence?"

"Tell him to kiss my ass!"

"I think that would sound better coming from you!"

Connor shouted back as Hank marched out of the precinct toward the front doors. Slowly his L.E.D. cycled from yellow back to blue once more as he made another comment under his breath.

"...I do not wish to be unemployed."

Discreetly Connor glanced up from his terminal screen toward Captain Fowler's private office and knew he didn't have to say anything. Judging from Captain Fowler's current posture and the forced stoic look on his face, Connor knew that he had heard Hank's comment but chose to not address the angered detective on his lack of professional conduct.

Casually Chris walked by Connor's desk and placed an electronic magazine down on the desk for the deviant detective to read. The front of the magazine detailed the unusually aggressive ice storm that had shaken the city during the previous night and of the massive damage it had caused to numerous homes, businesses and roads all throughout Detroit.

"Did you see the damage that storm caused last night?" Wanting to check on his colleagues Chris made sure everyone was faring well in the aftermath of the impressive storm. "My power was knocked out when I woke up. The place was freezing, but me and Julia like to keep extra space heaters in the house during the winter."

"Unfortunately, the storm had damaged Hank's house as well as his car this morning."

"Shit, that explains why the Lieutenant's grumpier than usual." Chris looked to Hank's vacant desk curiously and then to the breakroom, but still didn't see him anywhere nearby. "Where'd he go anyway?"

"To the bank."

"Uh, shouldn't he at least have his wallet with him then?"

Connor's brow furrowed as he craned his neck to peer around his terminal screen and look at Hank's desk as well. It was then he saw that Hank had indeed accidentally left his wallet behind next to his phone just under his own terminal screen. The two very important items had been overlooked in Hank's haste to get to the bank and handle his finances.

"Shit." Connor swore appropriately as he stood up and grabbed Hank's wallet and Hank's phone. "I'm going to find Hank before he gets to the bank. It may be enough to ease his foul mood if I stop a problem before it begins."

"Better hurry. Even with a break in the rain, traffic's getting pretty heavy. He may have gone on foot if his car's busted up."

Pocketing the two items into his gray blazer Connor set out to meet Hank at the bank before it was too late. The deviant letter didn't want to see Hank scream his hell off at an unsuspecting bank teller by mistake.

"Thank you for the tip, Chris." Rushing to the precinct's front doors, Connor attempt to head Hank off before it was too late. "I just hope this foul day ends before it pushes Hank to his emotional limit."

As expected, Hank was in no mood to deal with sluggish traffic jams, loud honking horns and idiot drivers making illegal turns while the streets were still slick with icy rain and littered with downed tree branches or power lines. Choosing to hastily walk from the precinct to the bank just three blocks away, the freezing cold, gruff detective impatiently pushed through crowds of people on the sidewalk to get inside out of the foul weather. Throughout the entire block construction crews were working to block off damaged buildings and roads as safety precautions to prevent any further incidents, which only made the sidewalks more congested. The wind was beginning to pick up again hinting toward either a second round of the storm or a new storm all together.

The smell of rain mixing with ice in the air was strong, and the gusts of wind were getting stronger. A faint sensation of static electricity was building in the air as the storm clouds began to gain strength and threaten to unleash uncontrollable bolts of electricity alongside the snow, ice, rain and wind.

"Damn Michigan weather. Can't make up its fucking mind." Hank grumbled to himself in a low tone. "Doesn't play well with others. Winter never ends, then it's too damn hot for too damn long. Fuck... I sound like an old bastard."

Entering the bank at last, the already aggravated detective was faced with an acceptably short line, but only one available teller to handle all the people waiting. It seemed the bank was still reluctant to hire back humans to handle money since androids had no reason to try to steal anything. Now that they had to legally pay deviants for their work, the bank decided to very slowly revert back to a human only staff.

"Ah man, you've got to be shittin' me."

Hank swore again as he looked down at his watch on his wrist and sighed at the current time.

"Noon. Of course... Everyone's on their damn lunchbreak and trying to run errands."

Unbeknownst to Hank a shady man wearing a thick, black hoodie was lurking against the far wall inside the bank with a pen in his hand as he began to scrawl out a threatening message to deliver to the lone teller personally. The man himself was obliviously unaware that a detective had entered the building and continued with his very real threat. Tall, slender, pale and with unkempt, shaggy dark hair concealed under his hood the man looked like he was at the end of his rope.

The line slowly progressed forward one person at a time and Hank was moving along with them. The single teller was trying work as efficiently as she could but one person handling the claims of half a dozen others would take some time to complete. Crossing his arms over his chest, Hank just stared at the woman trying her best to get everyone taken care of as efficiently as possible and breathed slowly to keep himself from getting too worked up. He can't do anything about a slow line on a busy day, so why make things worse for that poor teller who was already trying to run the entire bank by herself?

Just then the shady man pushed his way past people up the line and slammed the piece of paper down on the counter in front of the lone teller with a thunderous 'slap' that made the people in line jump. While the rest of the line complained about the rude and aggressive behavior, Hank just observed as his instincts as an experienced detective told him something was wrong.

The teller read the written threat provided by the man and the fear in her eyes made Hank react quickly as he knew his instincts were spot-on about the situation.

"Hey! What the fuck's going on?!" Hank held his ground while several other people stepped out of line at the sound of his Hank's stern and somewhat aggressive voice challenging the intrusive man. They wisely didn't want to get between Hank and the man in front of the teller. "Detroit Police. Step out of the line, jackass. We need to talk."

The man turned around slowly and stared at Hank with a cold, icy glare from his pale gray eyes. The man acted as though he was on a mission, every move he made was calculated and perfect. His hands suddenly reached for the front of his hoodie, and he pulled down the zipper from his neck to the hem to reveal that he had a live explosive strapped to his chest beneath the garment.

"Fuckin' shit." Hank muttered to himself as he realized the full gravity of the situation. On top of everything else he now had to handle a bomb threat. "This day just keeps getting better and better..."

"EVERYONE DOWN ON THE FLOOR." The man shouted angrily as he pulled the detonator to the bomb from his hoodie pocket and held it out for everyone to see. He wasn't bluffing and growing desperately. "OR I WILL BLOW THIS PLACE TO HELL!"

Slowly Hank raised his hands and other people in the bank dropped to the floor to kneel down and then lay flat on their stomachs. No one dared to even breathe as they did everything in their ability to not agitate the man and give him a reason to use his detonator. Just as the world outside the bank was stormy and unpredictable, the world inside the bank had become just as unknown and just as potentially volatile.

Walking quickly Connor managed to efficiently make his way to the bank and reach the front doors just as Hank took a step backward from the armed man and raised his hands up slightly as if to surrender. The gesture was to ensure that the madman didn't overreact to his presence. As soon as Connor caught sight of Hank's odd behavior through the glass windows on the front doors, he followed the senior detective's gaze to the man with the bomb strapped over his own chest and pieced everything together. The trained deviant detective set foot inside the bank's lobby through the front doors ready to respond as efficiently as possible as he scanned the explosive and found it to be stable but still a very real threat.

Connor's L.E.D. flashed from blue to yellow as he made the report to the police cybernetically to request for back-up at the scene. His skills as a hostage negotiator kicked in and Connor was ready to take charge to protect Hank and the other patrons within the bank before anyone got hurt.

Innocent bystanders had thrown themselves onto the floor obediently and were now cowering for their lives as the two detectives tried to gain control over the hectic situation from two sides of the door. It was then Connor saw that Hank was already in the middle of a stand-off with the man but was unarmed, and Connor pulled his own gun from the holster under his gray blazer to aim at the potential bomber as he entered the bank.

Bravely Connor entered the bank and announced his presence with authority in his voice to try to gain control over the scene.

"Detroit Police." Connor made sure to hold up his shield and show it to the man to identify himself as a detective. "Don't move!"

The man turned his head to look at Connor and sneered at the sight of an android cop, the L.E.D. flickering yellow was a dead giveaway to who and what Connor was. Seeing an opportunity to arm himself, Hank quickly reached for his gun that was still holstered on his right hip, but the bomber had a gun of his own and was already armed.

"I WARNED YOU!" Letting the gun slide down his wrist into his hand the bomber pointed the gun at Hank and fired before Hank had the chance to react to the threat or try to talk his way out of being used for target practice. "I do NOT bluff."

The bullet found its target and did its damage in the blink of an eye as Hank was quickly subdued by the potentially lethal projectile.

"Hank!?" Connor's soulful brown eyes went wide and his yellow L.E.D. flashed to red as Hank fell backward onto the floor in a semi-conscious heap. "Hank, don't move!"

There was a red stain on Hank's upper left chest and shoulder that was beginning to spread quickly into a massive puddle before Connor's very eyes. Running a biometric scan over the downed detective Connor noted Hank's erratic vital signs and of the heavy bleeding that was putting the senior detective's life at risk.

"DROP THE GUN." The bomber demanded as he pointed his gun down at Hank's forehead despite already proving himself to be violent. Pulling back the hammer once more, his finger hovered over the trigger warily as he prepared to shoot Hank a second time. "Or I will finish what I started."

"Okay! Okay..." Eager to get to Hank's side and aid his friend, Connor held up his hands passively as he took a knee and slid his own gun away from himself and to the bomber's feet. "Just..." He couldn't stop staring at Hank as his partner proceeded to bleed out on the floor so close yet so very far away. "Just let me help my partner. Please. I'll fully cooperate if I can go to my partner and tend to his wound."

"That's hysterical." Almost as if he were amused by Connor's plea the man used the gun to wave Connor over to where Hank was laying before training the barrel of his gun on the deviant detective while watching his every movement carefully. "Don't try anything stupid."

"I won't." Connor promised as he calmly stood up and walked over to where Hank was laying. Kneeling down next to his bleeding partner's side Connor performed a more thorough biometric scan and located the bullet lodged in the third rib in the left side Hank's chest resting dangerously close to his still frantically beating heart after it came to rest after bouncing off of Hank's shoulder. "Hank?"

Connor didn't wait for a reply as he pulled open Hank's dark coat as wide as possible to get to the wound underneath. Pulling open the buttons on Hank's sky blue and sunny orange striped button down shirt to reach the black t-shirt beneath, Connor grabbed hold of the dark fabric around the bullet hole and tore it open to fully view the devastating bleeding injury in Hank's bare chest. Pressing his palm down over the bleeding wound Connor applied pressure to try to stem the bleeding while also monitoring Hank's heart rate with his exposed palm.

As Connor's hand pressed down firmly Hank took in a pained shuddering breath, his eyes glazing over in a light daze. "F-Fuck..."

'Pain is good.' Connor told himself as he kept his hand in place, his L.E.D. flashing in red rapidly in response to his own stress levels beginning to rise. 'Pain means Hank is still aware. Pain means Hank is still alive.'

"Back to business..." Turning his gun away from Connor and toward the teller, the armed bomber issued his first order to the innocent woman. "OPEN THE VAULT. NO ALARMS."

The teller nodded frantically as she pressed the button concealed under her counter to remotely open the large steel door to the massive vault located behind her as she had been ordered. The vault unlocked with a heavy 'clunk' and the door swung open outward slowly to allow full access to the valuable contents inside.

"NO ONE MOVE."

The bomber shouted as he tried to calculate his next move, only to notice Connor attempting to provide basic first aid to Hank on the floor a few feet away. The bomber just stared at the two detectives with a cold disdain in hollow, disturbed eyes.

"You're wasting your time." Turning his back to Connor the bomber arrogantly approached the front doors of the bank to check the lock and make sure it was secured to prevent anyone else from entering the building. "You should worry about the people you can actually save."

"He's not dead, but he is dying." Connor stated as he pulled Hank's body up slightly so that Hank's head, neck and shoulder were resting against his own legs as he knelt beside his wounded friend. A small trail of blood began to ooze from the corner of Hank's mouth onto the floor beside them as Hank blinked and breathed slowly with a sense of confusion in his glazed over blue eyes. "You're not a murderer... yet. But he requires immediate medical attention if he is to survive."

"What do I care if one pig dies?" The bomber snarled as he proudly held the detonator and locked the front doors to the bank. "Everyone in this building can die and it won't change a damn thing. The world will keep on spinning with or without them a part of it."

"Then why kill them? They've done nothing wrong, and they're of no consequence." Connor refuted somewhat defensively as he tried to keep the bomber engaged and distracted with the informative conversation. His training as a hostage negotiator had proven itself unexpectedly useful once again. "You need to let everyone go and surrender peacefully. There's no way you're going to get out of here with any money, or alive, if you don't surrender now and stop this from escalating any further."

The sound of approaching police sirens and police drones filled the air as the requested squad cars converged on the scene of the crime and quickly barricaded off the area to protect innocent bystanders. Even without the silent alarm being pressed by the bank teller, the police knew what was happening thanks to Connor sending the cybernetic distress call.

"Fuck..." The bomber turned and glared at the teller who was cowering behind the bulletproof glass of her window behind the counter. "You called the fuckin' cops?"

"No." Without hesitation Connor spoke up on the terrified woman's behalf to protect her. "I called the police. I'm with the Detroit Police, as is he." Nodding down at Hank the deviant detective subconsciously pressed his hand down a little harder as he felt Hank's respiration beginning to slow. "You've assaulted an officer, threatened another, and you have nine people held hostage. You are a definitive threat, and they won't negotiate with you, but I will."

"You?" Scoffing at the very idea the man burned a hateful hole in Connor's face with just his eyes. "And why would you do that?"

"Because all I want to do is get everyone out of here alive. No deaths, no more violence." Connor was never one to give up easily or let an opportunity go to waste. "I don't care where you go or what you do as long as no one else gets hurt. That's all I want, a peaceful outcome."

"Wow, that sounded almost believable. But you're a fucking machine... You don't want anything." Aiming his gun at Connor's head again the man made it clear he wasn't going to be nearly as reasonable as Connor could've hoped for. "You're PROGRAMMED to say that shit!"

"No." Defying the comment Connor shook his head and kept his voice level as he refused to let the bomber have any advantage. "I'm not a machine. Not anymore. I am alive, and so is everyone in here. You don't have to do this; you can stop this. You're the one in control right now which means you're the only one who has the ability to stop this."

"Yeah..." As the police officers approached the building the bomber tightened his grip around the detonator and he gave Connor a desperate look. Holding out his hand the man made it clear that he wasn't bluffing about using the gun or detonating the bomb. "Yeah, I am. And I don't feel like talkin' anymore."

"NO!"

In response to the immediate danger, Connor shouted with genuine alarm in his words as he extended his free hand outward as if to take the detonator away from the bomber before it was too late to stop the explosion...

Responding to the emergency call from his own detective in person, Captain Fowler and Chris were both standing outside the bank wearing their Kevlar vests as they tried to figure out what the hell was happening inside the closed off space. Police drones and holographic police barricades kept curious onlookers and the media at bay, which made it easier to keep everyone inside the bank calm. The few patrons who had fled from the bank as soon as danger presented itself were frantically telling anyone and everyone who would listen about the criminal wearing a bomb-vest and brandishing a gun. The provided details didn't help much as no one could currently see inside the bank as of the moment without putting themselves in the armed man's line of sight.

With their options to gain access to the bank very limited Captain Fowler dispatched his officers accordingly to ensure the entire bank was fully surrounded at all times. All doors and windows were being watched to ensure the madman inside the bank couldn't possibly escape.

Captain Fowler was on his radio demanding an update from anyone who had eyes on the bank when Chris approached him with an apprehensive look on his usually calm face. Turning his full attention to the young officer Captain Fowler sought more information. "What did you find out, Miller?"

"Captain, snipers on the roof found a view into the bank from a high window."

"Good. What's going on in there?" Captain Fowler put his hands to his hips in contemplation as he tried to think of a way to handle the bizarre situation. "All details are crucial."

"We have a body on the floor and Connor is with them." Pausing for a moment Chris gave his Captain as many details as requested. "It looks like it's Hank who's on the floor."

"Shit." Falling back on his training Captain Fowler issued another command into the radio demanding that his men continue to secure the area but not make a move until he knew exactly what was going on inside of the bank. Deciding his next order Captain Fowler gave Chris his full attention again. "No one goes in or out of the bank until we know what the hell's happening inside. Got it?"

"Yes, sir."

"Keep all civilians back, monitor the doors and the windows, and try to gain access to the bank's surveillance cameras to give us an advantage."

"I'm on it, Captain."

Turning on his heels Captain Fowler faced the bank and rubbed his palm over the back of his tense neck anxiously. The lingering ice and cold in the air only made the situation feel twice as tense as the man tried to find a solution to his unusual predicament without losing two of his detectives in the process.

"Damn it, Hank. Why can't you keep out of trouble these days?"

The outburst of sincere emotion from the deviant detective had caused the bomber to stop instantly before he had the chance to detonate the bomb. He stared at Connor as tears, actual tears, formed in the clearly worried deviant's soulful brown eyes. It was as if he was actually seeing Connor as a fellow human despite the red glaring L.E.D. in Connor's temple and the exposed plastimetal palm pressing down on Hank's bloodied chest. As much as he wanted to set off the bomb and end everything in one fiery blast of violent glory, the man just couldn't seem to bring himself to do it now that he saw the way his actions were having such a drastic impact on the hostages in the bank.

The hesitation in the bomber's decision gave Connor a rare window of opportunity to keep him talking, to keep him from doing something he couldn't take back, and he wasn't going to let such an opportunity pass him by. Speaking up in a low voice, Connor remained calm and composed despite his fear making him physically tremble where he was kneeling.

"You don't want to hurt anyone." Connor continued as he tried to keep negotiating and studied the bomber's demeanor carefully. From beneath his palm Connor felt Hank's heart beating and could track his vital signs very closely. "I can see it in your eyes."

"What the fuck do you know about me?" Still aggressive and short-tempered the bomber challenged Connor's authority as his hatred for the police seemed to return with a flourish. "You're a piece of plastic!"

Running a cybernetic scan over the bomber's face Connor managed to identify the suspect from his short and tragic criminal record, and from there he found other tragic records and pieced together a sad and heartbreaking story. His name was Howard Shea. A man who had suffered misfortune and clearly had nothing left to lose.

"I know your name is Howard. You were arrested for stealing baby formula from a convenience store two years ago, and you were never able to regain a sense of belonging in the community after your arrest was made public."

As Connor spoke Howard's hand tightened around the grip of his gun as he pointed it at Connor's forehead defensively. "H-How do you know that?!"

"I'm a detective, it's my job to know the people I'm speaking with."

"What else do you know about me?"

"You were sentenced to six month's probation after you were arrested. During that time, you had lost your job as a high school chemistry teacher and could only find work in low paying part-time jobs." Connor felt Hank take in a deep shuddering breath under his palm but didn't let it distract him. "Jobs that you lost time and time again because an android was brought in to replace you like you were nothing more than a name tag on a warm body."

The details and compassion were reaching Howard despite his reluctance to verbally engage with the deviant. "Keep going..."

"Your wife filed for divorce and won full custody of your young son due to the scrutiny attached to your name. And now you believe that you have nothing left to lose, but robbing the bank will not undo the past two years of your life. Taking unearned money and taking lives will not bring you justice. You already know this."

"Yeah, and it's all your fucking fault... You took what pathetic, menial work I could find every chance that you had." Howard pointed the gun over at the teller as he spoke, and the gesture made the teller duck down even lower behind her counter in fear. "And it's her fault too! If that bitch had just corrected the error in my bank account, then I wouldn't have had to STEAL anything to keep my son from going hungry that night... It was cold! We had no power! My wife had been laid-off, and my paycheck didn't clear because of a fucking machine making a fucking error!"

"She wasn't responsible for the error." Connor spoke loudly to try and keep Howard's attention on himself and away from the cowering teller. The last thing that anyone needed was another innocent person being shot. "It was a computer glitch. The bank records can confirm this."

"A glitch..." Howard let out an angry breath as he resumed pointing his gun at Connor in blind anger. "Computers. Androids. Technology... They were supposed to make everything easier, but all they do is fuck things up! I was never even given a chance to prove it was all a mistake and I lost EVERYTHING!"

"You're right." Agreeing coolly to keep Howard from getting too aggressive Connor continued with his attempts to negotiate. "But right now, right here, you do have the chance to make things right."

"No, it's too late..."

"It's not." Connor insisted as he continued to speak to the bomber in a genuinely kind and empathetic manner. "Let these people go, show them that you're not a bad person. Show them that you're worthy of a second chance."

Howard began to breathe rapidly as the stress of the situation was tearing away what little emotional resolve that he had retained during the entire botched robbery attempt. While it was true that Howard didn't want to hurt anyone, he was still angry and still very desperate. Hank had already been shot, there was no going back from that mistake.

"Please." Connor asked again as he looked down at Hank's pale face and stared at the Lieutenant's glazed over blue eyes. The senior detective was still losing blood despite the pressure being applied to his wound, and with that blood loss went his strength. "Let them go and I'll stay here. I'll be your one hostage and I won't do anything reckless to endanger the others or you. I won't fight back."

"...Fine." Howard pointed his gun at the teller again, but this time he motioned for her to go to the door. "You have ten seconds! GO."

Rushing out from behind the counter with her hands in the air, the terrified woman made her way over to the front door and unlocked it with a shaking hand. As she slipped through the doors to safety Howard motioned for the other six people laying on the floor to follow after her and get out of his sight before he changed his mind about keeping Connor as his lone hostage.

Without a word beyond muffled whimpers the other six hostages ran for their freedom outside the bank.

"There." Howard sneered as he stepped around Connor, keeping his gun trained on the deviant's head at all times as he put himself behind the two detectives and the vault. His back was now facing the opened vault door and away from the front doors of the bank so he could watch the street outside. "Now, don't you fuckin' move."

"I won't." Connor promised as he cybernetically relayed the events taking place inside the bank to the officers gathered outside via text messages to every officer's phones in the precinct. It was all Connor could do to remain in control. "I'll stay right here."

Hank blinked slowly as his exhausted eyes followed Howard's every move with an instinctive reflex. The wounded senior detective swallowed once, and Connor felt the wounded man's chest hitch as the blood that had been rising in Hank's throat caused him irritation and was beginning to make it uncomfortable to breathe in or out.

"I got you, Hank." Needing to comfort his friend Connor whispered to Hank as he tried to find a solution to their ludicrously dangerous predicament. "I'll think of something to aid you."

"...V-Vault." Hank managed to hoarsely utter as his eyes slowly closed then opened again. The injured man was clearly fighting to remain conscious as he continued to bleed out. "U-Use the vault."

"The vault?"

Connor's brow furrowed as he tried to comprehend what Hank meant when he said the word. Looking up at the madman again Connor saw that Howard was standing in the middle of the massive steel reinforced vault door with seemingly no further plan now that he had clear access the valuables inside. Strangely enough, he wasn't stealing anything or even looking at the valuables stored inside. In fact, Howard looked as though he was preparing for something to happen.

It was then Howard's grip tightened around the detonator again confirming what he had in mind.

The sound of heavy marching boots near the front entrance grabbed Connor's attention in a flash. The police were storming the building in an attempt to subdue Howard, but they'd never get to him in time before the bomb fully detonated.

"Oh, shit..."

Hank heard and sensed Connor's worries as the deviant recognized the dangerous situation. "...Connor?"

Keeping himself as calm as possible Connor gently lowered Hank down to the floor and reluctantly lifted his hand away from Hank's bleeding chest. Moving swiftly with an unparalleled grace, Connor charged toward the desperate criminal and charged into the line of fire and shoved his shoulder against Howard's chest pushing the dangerous bomber inside the vault while knocking Howard off his feet.

Responding quickly Connor then swung the vault door to close it just as Howard landed on his back and pressed the button on the detonator clutched in his shaking hand to try and destroy the entire bank. A wave of fire and what sounded like thunder escaped the narrowing gap between the vault and the door that nearly enveloped Connor as he attempted to duck down and out of the way of the bomb blast.

"...C-Connor?"

Hank had watched as Connor confronted the bomber head on from where he was laying on the floor. There was a loud sound that was quickly muffled by a thick metal barricade just as Hank lost consciousness and everything fell into a silent darkness all around him. Lowering his head to the floor Hank closed his eyes and gave way to unconsciousness at long last.

"...Son."

A soft pressure under his back and beneath his head gave Hank a weird sense of comfort as rested with a sore left shoulder rudely bringing him back to the waking world. As he fully regained consciousness Hank suddenly remembered the bank, the searing pain of the bullet entering his body, the sound of the explosion, and the sight of Connor running into the vault just as the explosion illuminated the metal-laden space. Just as quickly as the darkness overtook his mind, it cleared up in an instant. Jolting upright with a tight panic in his healing chest Hank's blue eyes snapped open as he called out for his partner's name in a desperate bid to keep the ambitious deviant detective from getting himself killed.

As he moved Hank groaned in pain and clutched at his sore chest with his right hand. The instinct to protect the people around him overrode the Lieutenant's instincts for self-preservation and ignore his own pain for the time being.

"CONNOR!?"

"Hank." Connor's voice was steady as he gently put his hand against Hank's good shoulder and pushed the recovering detective back down against the soft bed in which he was already laying. The sound of Connor's calm voice was accompanied by the sound a frantic beeping of the nearby cardiac monitor as it recorded Hank's suddenly elevated vital signs. "I'm right here."

"Connor..." Hank felt a sharp pain in his upper left chest and winced visibly through gritted teeth as he laid back down against the bed to rest. "What the... fuck?"

"You're in the hospital. The surgeon removed the bullet from your third rib, there were no complications, but you will need to remain here overnight for observation."

"H-Hospital?" The details were falling into place and Hank figured out what had happened after he blacked out. "Are you okay?"

Hank looked over and noticed that Connor's left arm was in a dark blue sling secured to his chest. His gray CyberLife blazer was covered in small burns and resting over his right shoulder. The unoccupied left sleeve of Connor's white dress shirt hung limply at the deviant's side in a disconcerting manner. Although Connor's L.E.D. was pulsing a rapid blue which was a good sign despite the other damage, Hank was still worried for his friend's safety.

"Your arm... I saw you run in to the vault with that madman."

"And I survived." Connor looked down at his healing left arm in the sling and smiled a little. "The blast was powerful enough to completely detach my left arm from my shoulder joint, but the technicians at the Zeta Facility were able to repair the limb and reattach it in a few hours." Flexing his left hand as it rested in the sling Connor reassured Hank that he was fine. "I already have full feeling in my arm, my hand and my fingers. My strength is limited but not permanently impaired."

"And the idiot with the bomb?"

The smile faded as Connor replied to the question honestly. "...Howard wasn't so fortunate and was declared dead at the scene."

"What the hell were you thinking?!" Hank scolded angrily as his partner just stared at him worriedly from where he sat. The cardiac monitor recording his vitals began to screech in response to his physical stress yet again. "You could've gotten yourself killed!"

"I was thinking about how the bomb would've destroyed the bank and injured dozens, if not hundreds of innocent people." Without any doubt Connor defended his actions and his blue L.E.D. flickered to yellow in response. "I had to push him inside the vault to contain as much of the blast as possible, and I needed to find a way to end the confrontation to ensure you received proper medical attention. Hank, you were dying."

"...Fuckin' hell." Hank sighed and relaxed his breathing as much as possible to reduce the painful strain in his chest. "Fuckin' reckless! If you had gotten yourself killed, I don't know what I would've done with myself."

"I'm sorry, Hank." Needlessly apologizing Connor tried to ease Hank's stress and his anger. "I only did as you suggested and used the vault to protect us. Your idea was very effective despite how I may appear in this moment."

A doctor and nurse entered the room to give Hank a brief examination to ensure that the senior detective hadn't torn loose his stitches or aggravated his injury in any way as he regained consciousness and had an outburst of pent-up emotions. It was a tense exam, but one Hank didn't try to fight simply because he was too tired to even try. The last thing he wanted to do was push around the very people in charge of his recovery.

"I meant what I said." Connor looked down at the floor below his feet as if ashamed, and he again apologized sincerely as the doctor and nurse fussed over the wounded detective. "I am sorry. But it was the only way to save you and the hostages today."

"Yeah, yeah..." Hank shook his head a little as the doctor finished shining a light in his pupils and took his leave of the room. Sensing the tension in the air the medical staff knew to take their leave for a few minutes longer so the two detectives could speak in private. "I know you did what you thought was right. I'm sorry for yelling at ya', kid."

"It's okay." Forgiving as always, Connor didn't consider the outburst as a personal attack. "You were having an extremely unpleasant day."

"The term you're actually looking for is a 'shit-show'." In a somewhat amused manner Hank sighed again and gave Connor an appreciative glance. "You did real good back there though. You're one hell of a negotiator."

"Hostage negotiation was my first mission." The memories of confronting Daniel were still disturbing to think about, even after everything that's happened since that confrontation. "Unfortunately, it didn't end well for that suspect either."

"It's okay, son. You did everything you could to save him."

"You were unconscious for seventeen hours after the surgery." The protective deviant continued on to a new subject as his yellow L.E.D. finally shifted back to a calm blue. "During that time, the repairs to the house were finished as were the repairs to the car. You can't tell that there was ever any damage to either one. I also let Sumo outside, made sure he was fed and let him know that you're going to be okay."

"So that terrible day of utter bullshit is finally over?"

"Yes, Hank." Grateful to give Hank some form of good news Connor confirmed it was now a brand new day. "It's over, and there are no storms predicted in the weather forecast for the next two weeks."

"Good. And I imagine that I've been benched from the precinct for some time, right?"

"Two weeks to be precise. Then you're required to stay on desk duty for one more week until you make a full recovery and regain your strength."

"Two weeks, huh?" The chance to remain home and out of the cold seemed very appealing to the man. "Plenty of time to hide away from the world and try to relax."

"Would you like me to bring you anything from home while you recover here in the hospital?"

"No. Just..." Hank stared at the deviant beside him tiredly. The way Connor had settled into his heart was undeniable after everything they've been through together over a year's time. "Just stay here so I can keep an eye on you, all right, kid? And no more damn bombs!"

"That'll be easy to do." Sitting back in his chair Connor made it clear that he wasn't going to be leaving the hospital any time soon. "Consider it done."

-next chapter-

Author's Note: I admit this was inspired by 'The X-Files' episode "Monday".