An emergency call to a potential domestic dispute had led to a violent confrontation with the police. A spoiled, entitled human in his late fifties had become wildly enraged when he learned that his late mother had put her android caretaker, and only friend in her will, and had given the android a substantial share of the family fortune while cutting her son's share significantly. Out of sheer rage and jealousy, the temperamental and selfish man had thrown a Molotov cocktail through the front window of the family estate in an attempt to frame the android for arson, claiming that the android had become violent and malfunctioned after deviating and had lashed out violently. Unfortunately for the petty man, the family estate also had security cameras all around the property that easily identified the man as the true criminal while exonerating the innocent android heir in the process.

Connor and Hank had been summoned to the scene of the crime as an android had been involved, but what should've been a simple arrest went downhill fast for the two detectives when the man's jealousy continued to manifest itself through violent impulses toward the police force. The incredible emotional outbursts and genuine tantrums from a grown man were sickening and disappointing to witness. Such a sight also made it difficult to argue that it was the deviants who were harboring immature emotions as the man with fifty years of life under his belt showcased an emotional grasp no better than a spoiled preschooler.

"We have the security footage proving you burned down the house, you fuckin' moron!" Hank shouted as the man paced about the front gate of the smoldering house like a caged lion while the fire department doused the burning mansion behind him. The man was shorter than average, overweight, had a sickly pale complexion made all the more repugnant by a cheap and unconvincing fake tan, a bald head covered by a thin, gray comb-over, narrow gray eyes and a tiny pointy nose that remind Hank of an actual weasel. "Why'd you do it?"

"It wasn't me!" The pitiful man denied in a repugnant whine as the fire began to die down to burning embers against a black cloud of smoke. "It was the android! It deviated and tried to kill me! Arrest it! NO! DESTROY it!"

Without missing a beat Connor held up his palm to display a holographic image that had been taken from the security footage that Hank had previously mentioned that proved that the man was the true arsonist.

"We can clearly identify you, Phillip O'Reilly, as the lone culprit in this crime. Do not deny it."

"You're clearly biased!" Phillip turned his attention to Connor and sneered with indignity at the deviant detective even acknowledging him. "You'd do anything to protect your own kind, wouldn't you?"

"I'm merely attempting to do my job and properly identify the guilty party in this case." Connor dropped his hand and stared at Phillip without the slightest intimidation in his soulful brown eyes. "And I have correctly identified you."

"You edited the image!" Unable to admit fault Phillip tried to turn the crime around and accuse Connor of misdeed. "You're trying to frame me!"

"I'm merely using evidence to close an investigation." Connor's blue L.E.D. flashed to yellow as he ran a cybernetic and biometric scan over Phillip's body. "I can detect trace amounts of accelerant on your hands that has been connected to the fire itself. I have also matched your fingerprints to the ones found on the glass shards of the smashed bottle of the Molotov cocktail that had been thrown through the front window that caused the fire."

"No! You're framing me!" Phillip refuted like a whiny little brat of a child. He pointed at Hank accusingly as he tried in vain to deny everything he had been rightfully accused of. "Why are you letting this machine frame me? Do your damn job! You're supposed to protect and serve, so serve me right now!"

"I AM doing my job," Hank pointed to Connor sharply as he glared at Phillip who had no concept of reality. "and so is he."

"No! It's not supposed to be like this!" Phillip was nothing more than a desperate coward who would do anything to escape justice and get what he wanted. "L-Let me show you something! Something that can prove the android did it."

Hank crossed his arms defiantly over his chest as his every instinct as a cop told him that Phillip was up to something. Looking over to Connor, who seemingly shared the same bad feeling, Hank decided to cautiously humor Phillip as a means of trying to gain some kind of cooperation from the otherwise uncooperative suspect.

"All right. Show us."

"This way." Phillip's head hung low as he led to the two detectives to his car parked along the drive a few yards away from the burning mansion. Using the remote key fob from his pocket, he opened the trunk of his car and reached inside for something, but Hank immediately commanded the man to stop moving as his hand hovered over the gun in the holstered at his hip. "It's right in here."

"Hold it." Ordering the man with a stern voice Hank kept control over the scene. "We'll take it from here."

Connor approached the car to investigate the contents while Hank kept an eye on the cowardly man who was slowly backing away from the car and toward a large shrub alongside the lengthy drive. The deviant detective's L.E.D. cycled yellow for a moment then back to blue as he chronicled the items of question into the precinct database.

"What've we got, Connor?" Hank asked curiously as the deviant peered inside the trunk of the car. "Anything worth our time?"

"There is a spare tire and set of tools. And I can detect additional traces of alcohol in the trunk as well." The deviant detective's sensors were picking up on everything very quickly. "It's the same brand of vodka used in creating the Molotov cocktail."

"Seriously?" Hank just stared at Phillip like he was the dumbest person on the entire planet. "How does that prove you're innocent and the android is guilty?"

"The android hid the alcohol in the trunk to make me look bad!" Phillip retorted with a sickeningly smug manner. "Proof!"

"Interesting..." Connor closed the trunk and approached the man, his L.E.D. cycling yellow with confusion. "How did you know the android supposedly put anything in your trunk, unless you already knew the evidence in question was there before we arrived? Why hide it from us? It appears that you were planning on disposing of it yourself?"

Hearing the accusatory questions Phillip shot Connor an enraged look as he quickly turned around and pulled a second concealed bottle of vodka from the shrubbery behind me. With hasty movements Phillip pulled a lighter from his pocket and ignited the red rag stuffed partially inside the bottle.

"Sir?" Connor dared to ask as he watched his rapid and erratic movements. "What're you-"

"Justice for humans!" Grasping the bottle in a tight grip Phillip turned on his heel and threw the bottle at the two detectives. "Kill the machines!"

Before Hank could react, he felt himself being pushed aside and out of harm's way by Connor as the flaming glass bottle struck against Connor's upper right shoulder, his neck, and the right side of his face. Hank hit the ground hard on his back as Connor fell to his left side and put his hands to his instantly burning face and yelled out in horrific pain as he tried to smother out the flames.

Seeing what he had done, Phillip panicked and attempted to flee on foot, but other first responders were already at the scene making escape impossible.

"Connor!?"

Hank shouted as he shrugged off his dark coat and used the thick material to smother out the flames that were quickly damaging Connor's artificial skin and the plastimetal frame along his face, neck and shoulder. Responding on instinct Hank pressed the coat over Connor's upper body and patted down to beat out the flames as he endured the muttering groans of pain from Connor himself.

"I got you, son! I got you..."

Unable to move from shock and pain, Connor's entire body went limp under the coat as he groaned in understandable misery.

"It'll be okay, hold on."

Keeping the coat over Connor's body Hank looked up at the firefighters in the distance and called out for help. All of the city's fire departments were required to hire on Emergency Field Technicians to work alongside the Emergency Medical Technicians/Specialists, and Hank knew that there was a technician somewhere in the area.

"I need a technician over here! Officer down!"

Two firefighters had caught sight of the assault and could see the dissipating black smoke cloud that was drifting in the air above the two detectives. The fire department's on scene technician rushed over to where Connor was still laying under Hank's coat as two firefighters approached with small portable fire extinguishers in the event that Connor was still burning and needed to have the flames extinguished.

Three other officers at the scene had easily chased down and subdued Phillip as he tried and failed to flee from the scene of the crime. Now that Phillip had attacked Connor, it was all but a certainty that he would be convicted for arson and attempted fraud, as well as assault and the attempted murder of a police officer. The spoiled, entitled man was now going to spend the rest of his life behind bars rather than in the lap of luxury in a slightly smaller mansion than the one he had selfishly burned down.

"Sick-fuck threw a Molotov at him!" Hank shouted as the technician peeled back his coat to look at Connor beneath. The deviant's L.E.D. was still illuminated and glowing a dark red at a slow pulse confirming that Connor was still alive, but he was severely burned and had fallen into emergency stasis mode. "Oh god, Connor."

Dark black burns outlined with exposed, charred blue Thirium stretched from Connor's right temple, over his right eye, down his jawline to the right side of his neck, reaching all the way down to his right shoulder and stretching partially down his right bicep. The palms of both of Connor's hands were also burned from his futile attempts to smother out the flames himself before losing consciousness.

A large burn hole ate through Connor's gray blazer and through his white dress shirt over his right shoulder where the Molotov had struck him after being initially thrown. That was where the damage was the most severe and would take the longest to properly heal.

"Connor? Can you hear me?" Hank asked in a low tone as the technician pulled some sterile burn dressing from his emergency repair satchel that had been slung over his shoulder, and then pressed the bandages against the burns to cover them up. "Come on, kid. Say something to me."

There was no verbal response from Connor as the deviant remained motionless on the driveway with four people now hovering over him.

"He's in low power mode." The technician stated in a hushed voice as he pressed his hand against the center of Connor's chest to check his Thirium pump rate and his ventilation rate. The technician's name tag said 'Johnny' and the focus in Johnny's eyes spoke volumes of his experience despite having a deceptively youthful appearance. "He is alive, but he can't hear you right now."

"How bad is it?"

"He's still functioning, but he'll need some time for his self-healing program to repair all of the damage." Johnny's voice carried sincere optimism as he spoke with Hank in a calm and professional demeanor. "The sooner he has the damaged artificial skin extracted, the better."

"Extracted?"

"The burns are very severe." As he spoke Johnny's voice lowered again as a gurney was wheeled down the driveway to carry Connor over to the android unique ambulance that was now part of the fire department's normal emergency response routine. "They won't heal on their own and he needs more direct and complex technical assistance."

"Ah, fuck..."

Lightly Hank put his hand to Connor's undamaged shoulder and held his palm there for a moment. Neither detective liked spending time at a facility or a hospital for any reason. The only time they ever went to such a place was to deal with pain, sickness and some nasty injuries.

"Just hold on, son. You'll be okay, I promise."

It had been almost two hours since Connor had been burned and one hour since Hank had gotten the call from Captain Fowler confirming the insanely jealous man's arrest and harsh sentencing. It's been almost just as long since Connor had arrived at the Zeta Facility for treatment. With his arms crossed behind his back Hank patiently stood outside the large exam room window as Abby and her deviant assistant and occasional receptionist, Barry, worked together to remove the burned artificial skin from Connor's face, neck, shoulder, bicep and palms. Connor's ruined blazer and dress shirt were cast aside in order to fully expose the burns gruesome beneath, and it made the severity of the deviant's overall condition painfully undeniable.

Being entirely careful and efficient, Barry finished placing the damaged artificial skin into a proper disposal container while Abby applied a type of burn salve to the exposed white plastimetal frame where the burned skin had once been. The frame itself has been partially warped from the intense heat but would be able to reshape itself as Connor's self-healing program functioned to undo the damage over the next few days.

It took Hank a moment to steel himself before he was able to enter the exam room just as Abby began applying protective bandages to conceal the mending frame from any potentially harmful foreign substances that could hinder Connor's ability to recover. Seeing Connor without his artificial skin wasn't a problem, but seeing the young deviant - his adopted son - in so much pain was a massive issue he needed to overcome.

"Hank, it's okay to come in to see him." Abby sensed the senior detective hovering in the opened doorway watching the scene in total silence. "You won't contaminate anything. He might be able to hear you right now."

"...Connor?" Hank spoke to the unconscious deviant softly as he approached the table while Abby finished placing the first bandage over the right side of Connor's damaged face. She was now working on covering his neck and working down toward his shoulder, bicep and eventually both of his palms to ensure all of the burns were properly treated and covered. "Son? Can you hear me?"

From beneath the white bandage Hank could see Connor's red L.E.D. blinking at a slightly faster rate than it had been at the scene of the assault. The light was a good sign, but it would be better if it were blue or even yellow in color as opposed to an agonizing blood red.

"He's going to be all right." Abby stated sweetly as she secured the final bandages over Connor's burned neck. "He's going to be in pain for the next few days. His advanced programming has just many drawbacks as it does perks thanks to being a state-of-the-art prototype."

"We're kinda' getting used to pain." Placing his hand down over Connor's chest Hank held his palm there and silently counted Connor's heartbeat for himself. The sight of the scar courtesy of the older stab wound just reminded Hank that Connor couldn't walk away from all incidents perfectly unscathed. "Anything permanently damaged?"

"No, believe it or not. Not even his eye was affected by the fire. But," Abby proceeded to wrap a thick bandage around Connor's right shoulder to work down to his bicep, and moved very carefully to ensure she caused as minimal discomfort as possible. "the heat did compromise the physical structure of his facial plating. It can be reversed as long as the salve is applied to the burns every six hours to assist with his self-healing program."

"I can handle that. I've taken care of worse messes." Trying to lighten the mood Hank chuckled and cracked a small joke to try to give the unconscious deviant a sense of good spirits and comfort. "I'm talking about my myself, a toddler and roommate who loved to party way too damn long. Compared to that, Connor being burned isn't even a challenge for me."

Connor's exposed, undamaged left eye began to flutter and his L.E.D. flickered back to yellow at the sound of the familiar voices speaking around him.

"Hey?" Hank quickly noticed the reaction and lightly placed his hand on the deviant's undamaged left shoulder in a supportive gesture. "Connor, are you awake?"

As the soulful brown iris revealed itself a loud gasp of pain escaped Connor's lips as he tried to curl around himself while rolling from his back and onto his left side to take all the strain off his burns focused on his right side. The iris disappeared as quickly as it had returned as the agony tore through Connor's body at an alarming rate and he began to breathe rapidly.

"Don't move." Hank cautioned sternly but kindly as he put his more pressure on Connor's shoulder and grabbed his right forearm to pull it away from the burn while Abby continued to wrap up the wounds. Rolling Connor onto his back again Hank just kept speaking calmly as a means of keeping the deviant as calm and still as possible. "It's okay, you're safe with me and Abby right here. It's almost over."

"Hank!" Connor's left eye opened again, his L.E.D. now rapidly blinking red with pain as he looked at Hank. "...H-Hurts!"

"I know it does, but it'll be okay." Staying emotionally composed Hank replied quickly as he held Connor's shoulder and always spoke in a low voice. "Pain means you're healing, and it means you're still alive. That's a good thing. I know it doesn't feel good, but it is in fact good."

Abby stopped fussing with the gauze just long enough to press a small electronic device to Connor's blinking L.E.D. through the bandage over his right temple. Using the sensor Abby was able to manually override the program that allowed Connor to feel pain and temporarily turn off the program itself to give the wounded deviant some reprieve from the intense agony he was enduring.

"That's it..." Steadily Connor relaxed on the table and Hank lessened his grip on Connor's forearm while he kept his hand on the deviant's shoulder. "Just take it easy."

"Sorry about that, Connor." Abby apologized as she resumed wrapping up Connor's injuries in a controlled manner. "I wasn't expecting you to regain consciousness so soon, otherwise I would've done that sooner."

"...s'okay." Connor slurred groggily as his system rebooted and he began to gain his bearings. "...Hank?" looking upward at Hank beside him Connor focused on his face and spoke to him in a strained whisper. "...A-Are you hurt?"

"No kid, you saved me." Truly appreciative for what the deviant detective had done, Hank made sure Connor knew that he was just fine. "Thanks."

"...The Molotov." Connor's eye drifted over toward his bandaged right shoulder and bicep as his system automatically scanned over the extensive damage. "...I was burned."

"Yeah, pretty badly."

"...Permanently?"

"No. You'll heal up in a few days." It was easy to convince Connor that he was going to be all right since Hank had been told the same thing by Abby just minutes earlier. "The bandages are just there in place of your damaged skin, that's all."

"Almost done." After wrapping up Connor's bicep Abby began gently wrapping up Connor's hands in the protective bandages and kept her eye on his uncovered left eye as she worked. "You'll need to reapply the salve and bandages every six hours for the next forty-eight hours to the damage on your face. Afterward, your artificial skin will regenerate entirely."

Connor nodded a little as he gave Abby an uncertain half grin that disappeared within seconds. He was too tired to even attempt to pretend to be in good spirits.

"Now," expertly Abby finished applying the bandages and stepped back from the exam table. "go home and rest. I can't stop the pain permanently, your external sensor program will reengage after two hours, so if you feel any intense discomfort enter rest mode for a few minutes to ease the pain. That way your self-healing program can focus on repairing the damage without straining your other senses and you won't just lay around in misery while you heal."

"...Okay." Connor seemed absolutely stunned, if not horrified, by the number of bandages that were now covering his body. He didn't want to move out of fear of enduring some kind of horrific pain. "I... I understand."

"You can do this, son." Wanting to help in his own way Hank asked about possible alternative pain control methods. "Isn't there any painkillers for androids out there he could try?"

"Not yet." Removing her gloves Abby gave Hank a somber glance and dismissed Barry to return to the facility's waiting room to watch the desk. "Right now, there is an experimental painkiller called 'Thiricetomal' in the works, but it's still being tested and isn't available in any facility. Not to mention I have no idea how it'd affect a unique prototype like Connor."

"Right, yeah. Okay, kid, up you go." Lightly Hank helped Connor to sit upright on the table while Abby kept her hand on his upper back to ease his balance. "Let us do the work for you and try to take it easy." Taking Connor's damaged blazer from the nearby chair where it had been placed during the deviant's initial treatment, Hank draped the smokey garment around Connor's shoulders and helped Connor to slide off the edge of the table. "Let's get you back home so you can rest for a while."

"Did the suspect..." Connor trailed off tiredly as he tried to comprehend everything that had happened to him while also remembering the investigation at hand. Leaning heavily against Hank's side as his shaking legs seemed to move on autopilot Connor tried to focus his thoughts, but his system was just too taxed and too tired to allow him to utter a single question. "...The suspect. What happened to him?"

"He was arrested." Hank confirmed as he guided Connor through the facility, through the waiting room and out to the car parked a few yards away in the parking lot. Opening the car's passenger side door for Connor, the deviant's hands practically useless now, Hank guided his injured partner down to his seat and fastened the seatbelt on Connor's behalf. "It's okay, don't worry about him. Just focus on healing, okay?"

"...Y-Yes." The deviant's voice sounded lethargic and delayed as he responded with a flat tone of voice. Closing his eyes Connor sank into his seat and let his body heal as much as it could as quickly as it could. "...I'll try."

It took Connor almost five hours to find enough strength and the courage to leave his safe bedroom and make his way into the bathroom to tend to his wounds as necessary. Meanwhile, Hank spent all that time on his computer looking for any possible means of easing pain in deviant androids after leaving Connor alone to sleep in privacy. Of course, Hank's search ended in failure as very little information was available regarding deviants and the ability to feel pain, which of course meant any means of easing the intense discomfort was as of the moment completely unknown. Only a few articles revolving around 'Thiricetomal' offered any hope, but as Abby told him earlier it wasn't available for purchase yet.

Staring at himself in the mirror above the bathroom sink Connor gently used his exposed left fingertips to peel back the bandage on his face and examined the white plastimetal that had been scorched and melted by the intense heat of the fire beneath. The salve would help restore the original shape of the frame to prevent any disfigurement. However, Connor was almost too afraid to touch his own face. The face that was staring back at him from his own reflection was frightening.

The deviant didn't seem to recognize his own reflection.

There was a noticeable warping of the panel just under his right eye and around his L.E.D. that made Connor freeze in place and stare. Though his right eye survived the blaze intact, the heat did cause several small Thirium lines within the eye to rupture and tint the white around his brown iris a pale blue. As his shaking fingertips brushed against the damage he outwardly flinched and dropped his hand down away from his face in utter pain and shock.

"This- This is... too much." A gentle knock at the bathroom door made Connor jump but he answered after a few tense seconds of silence. "...Yes?"

"Need help with your bandages?" Hank called through the closed door in a level voice. "I don't mind lending ya' a hand."

"I'm okay." Connor lied as he forced himself to clumsily open the white plastic bottle of salve with his bandaged hands and put a generous amount on his still exposed fingertips. Pressing the salve gingerly to his face Connor flinched and held his breath as the pain ached through his entire face and seemed to trail throughout the rest of his body. "...I'm fine. Really."

Falling quiet Hank stayed outside the bathroom door while Connor tended to his injuries in private. There was something compelling Hank to stay close by, almost as if he knew that Connor was in some form of silent distress and needed help.

Despite his best efforts, Connor just couldn't withstand the pain and stopped applying the salve. He was unable to tend to the damage to his face or take care of himself. Falling back to the edge of the bathtub Connor just sat in silence, curling around himself as much as possible, while his bandaged L.E.D. flashed red with indescribable pain. He pressed the bandage back down over his face to hide the damage as he began to cry in misery.

"Son?" Partially pushing the door open Hank looked inside the bathroom and eyed Connor breathing slowly through the agony that was readily overwhelming his senses. Taking the salve from the sink Hank walked over to where Connor was sitting on the edge of the bathtub and knelt down in front of the deviant to offer him some help. "Let me see your hands."

"I-It's okay." Connor lied again through gritted teeth. "...I already took care of it."

"And you managed to perfectly rebandage your own hands, too?" The senior detective was too seasoned to be fooled so easily. "There's no shame in asking for help."

"I don't need help." The deviant nearly sobbed as he fought to keep his emotions in check. The notion of being so weak and vulnerable was absolutely frustrating in a way that he couldn't put into words. "I need the pain to stop."

"I know you don't want to hear it, but you need to be patient."

"Patience doesn't stop the pain!"

"Yeah, I know exactly what you mean." Using a gentle grip Hank pushed against Connor's left shoulder to force the deviant to sit upright and then took Connor's right hand in his own. Unwrapping the gauze from around the appendage Hank stared at the plastimetal palm with a strange curiosity. "No burns, but I bet it still hurts like a bitch."

Connor only nodded as Hank applied the salve to the exposed frame and then wrapped up Connor's hand again under a layer of fresh bandages. Repeating the action for Connor's left hand Hank expertly tended to the injuries with surprising efficiency and without ever looking uncomfortable as he treated each painful wound. As Hank reached his hand up toward Connor's right shoulder to peel back the bandages, Connor turned his head away and flinched abruptly.

"Sorry." Hank hated seeing Connor flinch away from his touch. "Did I hurt you?"

"N-No. Guess I'm just... wary."

"Can't say that I blame you."

Just like Connor's palms, the injury to his right shoulder and bicep had left behind only the exposed plastimetal frame where the artificial skin and synthetic muscle layer had once been. As Hank lightly applied the salve to the wounds, he watched Connor's exposed left eye shut tightly as he breathed through his gritted teeth slowly to keep himself from screaming.

"You know, the truly terrible part about suffering from a burn isn't the pain you experience while recovering; it's the scar that gets left behind after the burn itself heals." Hank couldn't keep his eyes off the scar in the middle of Connor's chest as he spoke. "Scars tell stories that we don't want to hear, but it seems like every time we look at 'em that story replays inside our minds against our will."

"...You seem to be speaking from experience." Curiously Connor opened his left eye and looked at Hank with an analytical glance. "Do you know a lot about burns?"

"Something like that." Sighing with an empathetic half smile Hank replaced the bandages around Connor's shoulder and looked at the side of the face that Connor was trying to turn away from him. "Let me see."

"I took care of it already."

"Let me see anyway."

"I... don't want you to see it."

"Why?"

Connor put his bandaged right hand up over the bandage on his face and closed his left eye again. "Because I don't even want to see it for myself."

Pushing himself up from the bathroom floor Hank sat on the edge of the bathtub beside Connor and ran his hand over his bearded chin for a moment. Moving his hand to the collar of his own t-shirt the senior detective spoke to the deviant in an empathetic manner.

"Want to know why I know so much about burns?"

Remaining silent Connor just looked at Hank awaiting the inevitable answer. Slowly Hank pulled down the collar of his gray t-shirt and turned his back toward Connor as he revealed a healed scar of what was once a deep, horrible second degree burn along his left shoulder blade.

"Just two years into my career, I responded to a call about a drug den burning down in the industrial district." Hank stated with a distant stare in his eyes as he looked away from Connor, looked away from his own burn, and away from the rest of the world. "I arrived at the scene and the damage was done. Dozens of junkies had died from smoke inhalation or massive burns when the building exploded. I had the misfortune of standing too close to the building when a second explosion destroyed what was left of their supply." Releasing his collar Hank leaned back slightly and turned his focus back to Connor. "I spent three days in the burn ward. The chemicals made the fire burn at such a high degree that even after a few seconds the flames reached my muscle and some nerves."

"That's horrible." Such a gruesome wound made Connor's L.E.D. flicker from yellow to red in empathetic distress. "...How'd you survive the pain?"

"The doctors had kept me sedated so I could sleep through the worst of the pain, then after I woke up, I continued to self-medicate with pills and some alcohol until I was nearly in a coma on my bedroom floor. I probably would've died there too, if I didn't have Barbara there to pick my self-pitying ass up off the floor and help me take care of myself until the burn finally healed after four weeks. It took another three weeks for the pain to become bearable and six months of physical therapy to get my shoulder full usable again. And then it took me almost a year before I was able to look at the scar without feeling sick to my stomach."

"Scar?" Connor's hand began to drop from his face slowly and began to shake. "...Will I have another scar?"

"Not if you let me help you. You can't take care of your burns by yourself just like I couldn't take care of mine by myself." Letting out a breathy sigh Hank gave Connor one last piece of advice as he returned his shirt to its proper position along his shoulder. "Mental scars hurt worse than physical ones, but it's the physical scars that draw the unwanted attention."

"I understand." Taking a deep breath Connor nodded in agreement as he understood what Hank was telling him. Accepting that he needed assistance the stubborn deviant finally allowed Hank to look at his face while his fingertips pressed against the scar on his chest. "...Okay."

Keeping his touch light, Hank peeled back the bandage over Connor's face to expose the white frame beneath. Without even flinching or blinking, Hank looked Connor right in the eyes as he finished applying the salve that Connor had only partially covered over the damage to his right eye, cheek, and jawline a few minutes earlier.

Connor resisted the urge to flinch away from the painful touch as he let Hank to tend to the burn, trusting Hank implicitly with his health.

"All right, done. We'll do this again in six hours." Hank replaced the bandage and closed the bottle of salve with an audible 'snap'. "Try to rest for a while to keep your mind off of it. It won't do much for your pain now, but if you get some rest, it'll help you recover a little faster. And remember, if you can still feel anything then that means you're still alive."

"...Thank you." Connor's hand lightly pressed against the bandage on his face again as he felt the pain already beginning to diminish. "I appreciate you helping me."

"You're welcome, son. Any time."

Following Hank's invaluable advice Connor spent the next six hours laying on his left side over the length of the couch with his right hand gingerly petting Sumo's head nonstop much to the large and loyal dog's joy. The persistent, sharp pain from his injuries still gnawed away at him with every beat of his heart, but Connor just kept repeating to himself what Hank had told him about pain being a good thing; pain meant that he was actively healing. As long as the deviant could still feel anything - whether that was pain, temperature changes or even Sumo's fur under his bandaged palm - then that meant Connor was still active, he was alert, and that he was still functioning.

Pain meant he was still alive. How Connor sometimes missed being a numb, cold machine. Then again, he knew that as a machine he wouldn't be able to appreciate his existence and life in general.

"Sit up." Hank stated as he approached the couch with the jar of burn salve in his hand ready to go. "We need to treat your burns again."

Pushing himself upright with his left elbow, Connor obediently sat upright on the couch and allowed Hank to remove his bandages to reapply the healing salve. The treatment was already aiding his plastimetal frame to repair properly but the pain was still chronic and grating.

"Huh, look at that." With a focused stare Hank studied the palm of Connor's right hand curiously. "Looks like your skin is already returning a little."

Connor looked down at his palm and sure enough a good half inch diameter of his artificial skin had regenerated from the outer edges of his palm and was beginning to regenerate inward toward the center of his palm. The pain had also lessened to degree as the salve did its job and aided his self-healing program in the overall repairs to his plastimetal frame.

"Let's see the other hand." Sure enough, both of Connor's hands were healing at an impressive rate much to Connor's relief. "Keep your hands wrapped up until your palms are fully healed." Hank stated as he used the salve on the healing injuries then replaced the bandages. "I don't want you getting sick again with some kind of infection."

"Yes, of course."

"Let's check your neck, your shoulder, and your bicep." Hank peeled back the gauze protecting the injuries, and just like Connor's hands had done his artificial skin was regenerating without any difficulty. "Man, this stuff really works. Too bad human medicine isn't as efficient as android medicine."

While Hank took care of his shoulder, Connor peeled back the bandage over his face and pressed his hand against the injury. The pain was now finally becoming bearable, and Connor was no longer afraid to touch it.

"Your eye has cleared up." Hank noticed that the blue tint had disappeared from around Connor's brown iris and that the artificial skin around his L.E.D. had fully regenerated. "And it looks like your face will be one-hundred percent by tomorrow afternoon."

Connor let out a sigh of relief as his L.E.D. mercifully stopped cycling in red and shifted back to yellow as he spoke. The last thing that Connor wanted to deal with was a serious scar or deformation along his face that'd be almost impossible to hide.

"Thank you for helping me through this."

"Of course. You'd do the same for me, there's no need to thank me for just doing the right thing by ya'." Hank responded without missing a beat. "You're practically my own kid."

"I'm not referring to my injuries, I'm referring to your advice." Connor's soulful brown eyes reflected the true emotion in his heart. "It has helped me immensely with my recovery and my confidence. Thank you."

"My advice? Are you talking about dealing with pain?"

"Correct. I now know that pain will forever be a part of my deviancy program and that it's something I must learn to endure, and now I can truly accept it. Now I understand that pain is important to some degree of life. It gives humans appreciation for their health and their good fortune." Such a critical lesson was worth learning in spite of the pain. "It's a crucial reminder that despite our strength, or any scars we may bear, we are still vulnerable and must maintain caution in order to succeed in life."

"That was pretty insightful." With an arched brow Hank finished taking care of Connor's injuries and replaced the bandages carefully over the healing burns. "I'm glad I can offer some worthy advice from time to time, although I don't think I'm that deep of a thinker. I've never been one to take advice myself until it was too late, so I'm glad someone finally listened to these old words of wisdom."

"When it's good advice someone will always listen."

"True enough." Appreciative of the sweet remark Hank patted Connor's left shoulder in a supportive manner. "Thanks, son. Try to get some rest and I'll get you some ice packs to help with the lingering pain. Remember how that helped out after you fucked up your shoulder last summer?"

"I remember. We watched 'The Wizard of Oz' together."

"That's right." Putting aside the canister of burn salve Hank smirked and picked up the remote to find something to watch on television. "We turned that into a movie night. It helped us both get some sleep after a rough couple of days."

"We should do that again." The humble request was met with a big smile as Hank began to check through the large list of movies he kept saved and queued up for his immediate convenience. "I'll go make some popcorn for myself, get your ice and get you some chilled Thirium. Find a movie for us to watch."

"Any movie?"

"Any movie that isn't part of the 'Beethoven' or Disney series." The man requested as he trudged into the kitchen and looked back at Sumo sitting beside Connor looking entirely content with the world. "I can only take so much fluff at any given time, and we have a Saint Bernard already."

"Very well." Connor was willing to accommodate Hank as he began looking for the ideal movie to watch. It seemed his bandages and burns had been forgotten entirely as he scrolled through the long list of movie options. "I was recommended films from Studio Ghibli by Markus. I'm sure I can find something from that particular producer that'll be entertaining."

"All right, you pick a movie and then I'll pick one before calling it a night." After tossing a bag of popcorn into the microwave Hank grabbed some ice packs for Connor and a bottle of Thirium just as he promised. "I think I wanna' watch 'Back to the Future'. It's hilarious comparing the predicted future from the second movie to the technology we have today. But we'll watch the movies in order for your sake since I've already seen the original trilogy a hundred times already."

"I want to watch 'My Neighbor Totoro'." The deviant selected his film and readied it to begin playing once Hank was back in the livingroom. "Is that all right?"

"Yeah, sure." The microwave 'beeped' and Hank poured his popcorn into a large bowl. "Never watched it myself, but I've heard really good things about it."

It seemed that Hank could only take so much animation along with cheesy, fluffy animal flicks. He couldn't fault Connor for watching films of every genre and every production style, but the way Connor could become transfixed on specific movie themes reminded Hank of the way a little kid found a movie that they loved and wanted to watch over and over again on repeat until the end of time.

With the snacks in hand, Hank returned to the livingroom and turned down the light to create the ideal movie ambience before rejoining Connor on the couch. The man tucked a pillow behind Connor's neck and shoulders to try to coax the deviant into leaning back and entering rest mode before the movies were over. It was a trick he had learned when Cole refused to go to sleep at night, and he hoped that Connor would be able to do the same.

"Here's your Thirium." Opening the bottle Hank handed it over to Connor to drink. He then took a handful of popcorn from his nearly overflowing bowl and shoved it into his mouth before giving Sumo a few pieces to munch on. "After we finish our flicks, we both need to go to bed. We've had a long, weird-ass day!"

-next chapter-