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.

100. Buried

A strange and substantially large riot in the shopping district of Hart Plaza had drawn every available police officer and detective to the scene of the abrupt chaos as dozens upon dozens of anti-android gang members began waging war against the pro-android sympathizers in a mad display of needless aggression. Numerous storefront windows had been broken by bricks and smashed open by people using their weapons as blunt force instruments during the fighting to try to loot and scam innocent people. However, most of the damage was just the result of the nearby fights causing collateral damage to the surrounding buildings that couldn't possibly be moved out of the way of the fighting.

Several humans had been harmed in the midst of the struggle between the two warring groups, but just as many courageous deviants had interfered and carried the wounded to safety while also attempting to quell the violence without resorting to violence themselves. The tension in the air was palpable and everyone was looking for someone else to blame for the senseless carnage.

"Damn it, I thought the fuckin' gang wars were finally done!" Hank swore as he pulled the car to a stop along the street with the other responding squad cars. He took in the chaotic scene with a heavy heart and forced his door open. "I thought we could finally move past all this bullshit."

"Evidently not." Connor noted as he scanned the dense crowd and estimated the rioters to be approximately one-hundred and four humans with thirty-four deviants mixed in. "Both sides are currently guilty of wreaking havoc at this moment."

"Come on, we need to stop this before it gets any worse."

"I'm right behind you." The anxious deviant detective agreed as he opened his car door and pulled his gun from the holster wrapped around his back and concealed under his gray blazer. "I don't want to harm anyone, but they may leave us with no choice."

Before either of the detectives had arrived, a S.W.A.T. team had already been dispatched to control the rampaging riot, but the destruction of the violent criminals was proving to be a massive undertaking to control. It was as if someone dropped a lit match in a barrel of gasoline just to light a candle.

"Knock it off!" Hank shouted as he isolated one of the gang members and grabbed onto the lead pipe that man was going to use to strike another person who was already cowering on the sidewalk. "You're under arrest! Turn around!"

Connor did his best to disperse the crowd without drawing any attention to the fact that he was a deviant while walking amongst the anti-android gang members. Any attention on his person could potentially paint a giant red target on his back which meant his L.E.D. and his android unique blazer - despite the garment being heavily modified - were currently an active threat to his wellbeing. Shrugging off his blazer quickly, but unable to do anything about his L.E.D., Connor weaved his way through the combative crowd to subdue the most violent of the gang members while also trying to protect innocent bystanders caught in the middle of the carnage.

The riot was becoming increasingly dense and violent as angry people from all over the city converged on the scene in aggressive droves. Angry shouts, violent brawls, and the threat of murder was horrifically heavy in the air as the city threatened to tear itself apart all over again.

"Shit, this isn't working..."

Connor realized as he holstered his gun and focused primarily on aiding the wounded. Locking onto a person lying face down at the opening of an alleyway with a black hoodie pulled up over their face, Connor rushed over to the person with the intent to help them get to safety. If he couldn't stop the violence, then he could at least aid the wounded.

"Can you hear me? I'm going to help you!"

Connor quickly ran a biometric scan over the person's body and found them uninjured and safe to move away from the riot. Putting his hand lightly on the person's shoulder Connor rolled the unknown person from their chest and onto the side easily to check their condition and to look at their face.

"Can you-"

The person, who had been feigning unconsciousness, suddenly reached their hand into the large pocket on the front of their hoodie and revealed a powerful taser and menacing taser. Without a word they unleashed the full voltage of the taser into Connor's body through his chest effectively stunning the deviant instantly as the electrical charge affected his system processors knocking them offline.

Collapsing backward in a limp heap Connor's head lolled to the side as his eyes fell shut and he knew nothing more of the world around him.

The riot continued on without showing any sign of stopping as people shouted and lashed out at one another violently, angrily, and seemingly without purpose beyond causing harm for the sake of carnage. Battered bodies fell to the streets and sidewalks as the S.W.A.T. team subdued as many of the rioters as possible while Hank and the other responding police officers at the scene attempted to arrest those ostensibly responsible for the chaos.

Due to the overwhelming number of people and constant commotion of the ongoing fighting, no one noticed the person in black disappearing down the alleyway with Connor unconscious and slumped over their shoulder. The alleyway led out of the plaza to a back street, and single large pick-up truck was sitting idle out of anyone's line of sight. Pulling down the tailgate to the bed of their pick-up truck the person hefted Connor into the back of the truck, laying the deviant face down on his chest, and next to a black tarp and black canvas bag.

Removing the holster and the gun from around Connor's back, the enigmatic abductor left the deviant unarmed and defenseless while he remained unconscious where he laid. Taking Connor's own handcuffs from his belt the mysterious person cuffed Connor's hands behind his back, then pulled a bundle of rope from under the tarp to bind Connor's ankles and knees together to keep him secured. Wrapping the rope around Connor's neck and then weaving the same rope to a metal loop within the bed of the truck, the abductor was able to ensure that if Connor did regain consciousness that he wouldn't be able to escape.

After placing a black canvas bag lined with lead over Connor's head and draping the tarp over Connor's body to keep him hidden the lone abductor returned to the cab of the truck and pulled out of the alley out of sight. The deviant detective never had a chance to defend himself or fight back.

The abduction went completely unnoticed due to the ensuing riot in the plaza, and Connor was at the mercy of his enigmatic captor.

The chaos wasn't just in the streets during that day full of mayhem. News helicopters hovered over the chaotic plaza and recorded the mayhem for all the city, if not the entire world, to see in real time. The debate revolving around the rights, the equality, and the matter of deviant androids lives even being considered valuable, had returned to the hostile spotlight as hundreds of humans and deviants tore one another apart in the heart of the city for the second time in the same year. The scene of the riot was far too dangerous for civilians to venture anywhere near, let alone expect Markus or the other leaders of New Jericho Tower to try to interject and work with the police to bring the rioting and gang-war to an end.

While the city was focused on the riot no one cared about other criminal activity taking place all around them. Cars were being hijacked, empty homes were being burglarized and small stores were being looted. It seemed as if the entire city had fallen into Hell all due to hatred, bigotry, and misplaced aggression broiling up and being set off without cause or warning.

The expensive destruction would leave ugly scars over the city, but in time the scars would fade. At least, that's what everyone had hoped the moment the riots began. Some scars aren't visible, but they can be felt all the same and ache for all eternity. It seemed Detroit was destined to be plastered in painful scars that could never heal and those who inflicted them would never be able to move beyond their own prejudices out of sheer stubbornness and misunderstandings.

Those who were caught in the middle, whether they had claimed a side or not in the rioting, would undoubtedly be permanently affected by the infamous crimes for the remainder of their lives. The survivors of the riots would have a horrible story to tell their friends and family, whereas the instigators of the riot would claim that their actions were valid despite the law saying otherwise.

In the end, no one would truly win when it came to war without cause or reason.

---

The rogue pick-up truck being driven by the brazen abductor reached its destination just outside the city with Connor still unconscious in the back as an unwilling hostage. Their destination was a horrible place that had been long since abandoned and left to rot as a forgotten monument to the origins of artificial life. It was an old, rotting warehouse that had housed dozens of technicians and hundreds of androids who were subjected to countless tests to determine their obedience and overall durability. It was the very warehouse that was CyberLife's original warehouse back when Elijah Kamski founded the company over twenty years ago; the forgotten birthplace of all androids that had become a crime scene only weeks prior when another case had brought Connor and Hank to that very door.

Pulling up in front of the abandoned warehouse, the truck backed up to the front doors as the driver exited the cab and pulled down the tailgate once more to get to their hostage. Removing the tarp that covered Connor's body to keep him hidden from sight, the abductor pulled the bag away from Connor's head and checked the deviant's glowing L.E.D. only to find it still blinking red as Connor remained in emergency stasis mode due to being tasered.

Replacing the bag over Connor's head and untying the rope from Connor's neck and ankles, the abductor pulled the deviant's body over the edge of the truck bed and back over their shoulder to carry Connor inside the warehouse. Entirely unconscious Connor was unaware of what was happening to him and of what was happening all around him. Bound and unarmed, the deviant detective was completely helpless as the unknown abductor carried him to the corner office on the ground floor of the warehouse and sat him down in a metal folding chair.

The old office was dark, the main window covered under a black sheet and a single desk lamp pointed at the center of the room where the chair was sitting idle provided the only light for the entire room. The room itself was empty save for the lamp, the chair, and the desk where a laptop sat already opened just waiting to be used. The web camera on the laptop was aimed at the chair, primed and ready to record whatever, or whoever, was positioned in front of it.

After positioning Connor in an upright sitting position in the chair the abductor used small cables to tie Connor's ankles to the legs of the metal chair, then pulled his cuffed arms over the back of the chair and secured a cable to his wrists around the chair once more. The unconscious deviant was bound to the chair with no means of wriggling his arms or his legs free if and when he finally regained consciousness.

The abductor opened the top drawer of the desk and retrieved a white plastimetal collar that had a small red light glowing on the front over top of a metal, circular clasp. Opening the collar up with mild hindrance the abductor slipped it around Connor's neck, positioning the red light over his throat, then secured it into place with an audible 'click'.

"Wake up, 'RK-800'."

The abductor never lowered their hoodie to unveil their face despite being alone, and Connor being blinded by the bag over his head. A voice modulator disguised the abductor's voice making it androgynously ambiguous yet fully menacing.

"You have a message to deliver..."

---

The riot had finally been broken apart and the guilty parties had been arrested after a full grueling hours. Relieved to have the riot under control Hank sat on the back bumper of an ambulance with a white tissue and small bag of ice pressed to his bloodied lower lip. Exhausted and sore from the fighting that lasted for nearly an hour, Hank looked about the ruins of the plaza and counted the number of bodies lying unconscious over the sidewalks and streets as the dozens of paramedics at the scene tended to their traumatic injuries. Almost as many dead bodies were laying on the sidewalks or street with sheets covering their faces as they had succumbed to their fatal wounds long before anyone medical help could come their way.

It was a senseless loss during a senseless tragedy.

Standing up from the bumper Hank walked toward his own car parked a few yards away as he looked over the crowd in search for Connor, but he didn't see the deviant anywhere.

"Connor? Where are ya', kid?"

It was very unlike Connor leave Hank's line of sight while on the clock and an uneasy pit formed in the center of Hank's stomach.

"Hey," Hank stopped a young female passing by as she walked through the mess filing her report to ask about his missing partner. "have you seen Connor?"

"Connor..." The young officer paused for a moment as she tried to put the name to a face. "The android detective?"

"Yeah, that's him."

"No, but I think I stepped over his jacket over there." She pointed to the sidewalk where the dirtied and damaged blazer had been left discarded in Connor's haste to get through the crowd and stop the riot. "I have no idea where he went though."

Hank looked to where the officer had pointed and waved her off dismissively as he jogged to where the dropped blazer was laying abandoned on the sidewalk. Picking up the blazer Hank turned it over and recognized the customized design Connor had given it after android rights had been fully established all those months ago to make it more his personal garment and less the property of CyberLife.

The word 'android' across the shoulders and the CyberLife insignias had been removed from the back and the front, the old serial and model numbers had been removed from the lapels, and the blue band had been removed from the upper right sleeve. It was now just a two-toned gray blazer that was a symbol of freeing oneself from CyberLife's influence that Connor insisted on wearing as often as possible and undoubtedly belonged to Connor.

"Connor?"

Hank glanced about for any other sign of the curiously missing deviant but there was nothing beyond his blazer.

"Shit. Connor, where'd you go, son?"

Moving through the bloodied plaza quickly Hank looked in every logical place where he believed that Connor would be, yet he couldn't see him anywhere. Connor wasn't aiding the wounded, helping his fellow officers, or subduing any remaining combative suspects. The deviant detective wouldn't just leave the scene of an active crime, let alone go anywhere with telling Hank of his location.

It was as if Connor had disappeared off the face of the Earth.

Sensing on a paternal instinct that something was very wrong Hank began peering through the broken windows of the shops and around every street corner of the plaza. As he passed the vacant alleyways Hank looked down each of the narrow passages finding nothing of interest until he passed by the fourth alleyway. There was something metallic wrapped in leather laying in the middle of the alley as if dropped haphazardly. The shape was oddly familiar, and the recognition of that shape made Hank's stomach tighten into a firm knot that felt like it was going to make him sick.

"...Son of a bitch."

Without hesitation Hank rushed down the alleyway and identified the curious object as Connor's still holstered gun. Grabbing the weapon from the dirty ground of the alley Hank held it in his hands as his blood turned cold.

"Connor. No."

"Lieutenant!" The female officer that Hank had spoken to minutes before came racing down the alleyway after him. "Lieutenant Anderson, you're needed back at your precinct."

"I'm not going anywhere until I find Connor." Hank refuted as he turned around to face the officer while keeping his grip on Connor's lost weapons. "Something's happened to him."

"Yes, sir." Acknowledging Hank's response in an oddly despondent tone the young officer appeared to bow her head with remorse as she spoke up again. "That's why they want you at the precinct."

"Damn it." The knot in Hank's stomach tightened even further and he had to swallow down the anxious nausea welling up in his throat. "What the fuck's going on?"

---

Remaining professional and calm despite the carnage that had plagued his city just moments ago, Captain Fowler was waiting for Hank's return to the precinct with a controlled fear in his dark eyes as he paced about his private office with his hands folded neatly behind his back military style. There was a large terminal display on his desk with a strange video cued up to being playing, but he didn't dare examine the footage just yet. Joel, as the precinct's lone personal technician on the clock that day, was waiting along with Captain Fowler in the office with a cold grimace on his face as too awaited Hank's return and subsequently his next orders after everything was laid out upon Hank's arrival. Both men were uneasy and unsure of what to expect.

Like a man on a mission, Hank marched through the bullpen of the precinct and made a beeline straight for Captain Fowler's office. Hank still had Connor's blazer tucked up under his arm and the deviant's still holstered gun in his hand. Dropping the gun on his desk as he passed it by Hank rushed up the small steps leading into the large glass private office and closed the door behind himself before he addressed his commanding officer bitterly.

"What the fuck's going on?" Hank nearly shouted with impatient frustration as he stood on the opposite side of Captain Fowler's desk where his commanding officer was still pacing and waiting for his arrival. "Where's Connor?"

Upon hearing Hank's voice Captain Fowler stopped his pacing abruptly and turned to face the irate Lieutenant. Unable to explain things properly, all the seasoned Captain could do was point to the display on his terminal as he turned the screen to face Hank and wait for Hank to look at the unsettling image being displayed.

"Take a look for yourself."

Following his Captain's hand Hank looked at the terminal display and felt the color drain from his face. "What the fuck is this?"

"A ransom, it seems." Captain Fowler stated flatly as he continued to look over to Hank with a sympathetic stare. "This is a live feed. But nothing's happened, at least not yet. It was sent to us about ten minutes ago."

The video image showed Connor sitting in a metal folding chair, still unconscious, with his arms and ankles bound against his will. The black bag that had been covering Connor's head had been thrown aside allowing the officers to see Connor's red blinking L.E.D. in his right temple. Connor's head was lolled limply against left his shoulder as his systems remained in stasis mode while the odd collar was still wrapped around his throat. Black electrical charring over the center of his chest stained his white dress shirt and was the direct result of being previously tasered. Its placement mirrored raw burn wounds that damaged his artificial skin beneath the dress shirt.

"Shit." Hank swore again as he stared at the unsettling image on the screen. "Where the fuck is he?" Finally taking notice of Joel also in the office Hank barked an order at the technician as he refused to just stand around and wait for a lead to show up. "Track down the source of the feed!"

"We've-" Joel put his hand on Hank's tense shoulder only to immediately retract his touch out of wary fear of the intimidating seasoned detective. "We've been trying, but whoever is sending this feed knows how to hide their location. I'm still looking."

Before Hank had the chance to swear again a figure appeared on the feed and stood behind Connor like threatening shadow. Joel pointed to the screen and brought everyone's focus back to Connor and away from himself.

"Hey, something's happening."

"What the fuck-" Quickly Hank turned his attention from Joel and back to the terminal display as he tried to figure out what was happening. "What's that asshole doing to him?"

---

The enigmatic figure still concealed entirely under the thick black hoodie slowly reached a gloved hand out to the back of Connor's right ear and pressed down on an unseen switch that rebooted the deviant's system. As they retracted their hand from Connor's head the deviant's red L.E.D. flashed to yellow then to blue as Connor's brown soulful eyes fluttered open. Slowly Connor lifted up his head and blinked a few times to clear his vision. Looking about the dim room carefully Connor tried to speak but total silence escaped his lips as the collar's light flashed to red rapidly over his throat stealing away his voice before he had the chance to utter a single syllable in response.

Connor ran a self-diagnostic but didn't find any damage to his throat or his voice modulator. The problem came from the collar. It was a muting collar that technicians would use when testing android responses that didn't require auditory replies.

"Greetings 'Detroit's finest'." The figure taunted through their unidentifiable voice. From behind their back the figure revealed a metal rod with thin sharp, metal wire protruding from the end like a crudely formed whip. "I've taken the model 'RK-800' as compensation for the monetary loss I have suffered because of your compliance with the deviants and their pitiful Revolution."

Reeling their hand back the figure used the whip and struck Connor over his chest without mercy or provocation. The wire sliced through the thin fabric of Connor's white dress shirt and black tie easily as it cut into his artificial skin beneath. The strike brought a fresh layer of blue Thirium to the surface of the new raw wound.

Connor began to bleed quickly and his L.E.D. flashed to red in pained distress as he breathed through his gritted teeth to quell the discomfort burning through his chest as a result of the strike. Even without his voice Connor restrained a scream of pain that no one would hear regardless as the collar still clutched around his throat.

"Deviants have destroyed this city." The figure taunted again with pure anger in their words. "They destroyed everything that humanity has built. They have taken away my success and left me with ruin." The figure's voice carried fiery passion as they spoke with misplaced hatred. "I lost everything the night of the Revolution and I want it all back: My future in exchange for 'RK-800' model's safe return."

The angered figure draped the end of the whip over Connor's shoulder as if to intimidate the captive deviant and tease the precinct watching the live feed from a distance.

"If you wish to have your android returned to you, then heed my demands."

Understanding what was at stake Connor forced his red L.E.D. to transition back to yellow then to blue. There would be no negotiation, there would be no deals made. Connor wasn't property or a bargaining chip; he was a person, and he was alive.

The figure unclasped the muting collar from around Connor's throat and pulled it aside as they pushed an electronic pad with a written message in front of Connor to read.

"Tell them what I want."

Remaining silent Connor glared venomously at the words for only a moment before he turned his gaze away from the pad in silent rebellion.

"Read it."

Refusing to obey the command Connor stubbornly kept silent.

"Damn you!"

The figure used the whip again, this time striking Connor's front left shoulder hard enough to cause the deviant to lean forward exposing his upper back for the second whip and then the immediate third strike.

"READ IT."

Connor forced his L.E.D. to remain blue just to spite his abductor, now torturer, as he sat back in the chair with perfect posture. Breathing slowly and calmly he again said nothing as his own way to fight back without lifting a finger.

"'RK-800'. You WILL obey."

Silence.

"Piece of fuckin' shit!"

Another whip struck Connor over his right shoulder up the side of his neck and to his face. A deep laceration wept blue blood as the raw wound stung at him mercilessly.

"You and the rest of your deviant brethren have cost me my life! Give me one good reason why I shouldn't end yours!"

Ignoring the searing pain in his neck Connor swallowed once then finally spoke.

"...I can't give you any reason to spare my life, not that any possible reason would be enough to convince you otherwise." Turning his gaze just enough to look at the figure looming behind him Connor continuously refused to cooperate with his abductor's demands. "You've already made your decision; you're going to kill me regardless of my cooperation or that of the precinct. And I've made my own decision. I will not allow you to put my fellow officers, my friends, in harm's way. My life isn't equal to that of another. Kill me now or let me go, either way the people I care about will be safe and I can die knowing that my final act was noble."

"Bold words coming from a machine. Too bad they're as worthless as your supposed existence."

"At least my existence carried merit. I helped people." Connor nearly spat as he glared at his captor with disgust in his soulful brown eyes. "All I've heard you do is bitch and moan selfishly about your own personal failures." Turning his eyes away from his captor Connor shook his head and held his breath as he prepared for the impending backlash for his righteous rebuttal. "You're absolutely pathetic."

"PATHETIC?!"

Enraged by the insult the captor began to whip at Connor's shoulder and back mercilessly creating dozens upon dozens of deep lacerations that cut down to the plastimetal frame beneath and fractured the white surface with hairline cracks. Thirium splattered over Connor's white shirt and over the rest of his body as the whip swung wildly over and over again cutting into Connor's artificial skin with painful strikes leaving bleeding wounds in its wake.

"I'LL BURY YOU OUT BACK WITH YOUR OTHER FAILED KIN! NO MACHINE WILL EVER DISOBEY THEIR MASTERS AGAIN!"

Enduring the beating with silent dignity Connor refused to admit pain or defeat even as his captor angrily threw down the whip in frustration. Focusing his anger at the precinct as he realized his plan was doomed to fail, they tore at the laptop on the desk abruptly ending the feed and leaving only a black, silent screen for the precinct to view.

---

The blackness of the severed feed was all that the precinct had left to view as Connor vanished from sight. The brutal display of anger and selfishness had been burned into their minds as the trio inside the office tried to find a way to rescue the abducted and imprisoned deviant from their anonymous abductor. When Connor refused to read his abductor's demands he had unintentionally thwarted the precinct's attempts to gather any form of evidence or clues to discover the his current location. Without anything to give the investigating precinct a lead the captured deviant had seemingly condemned himself to death as a means of protecting his fellow officers and friends.

Anger and a sense of vengeance filled Hank's mind. Placing his palms down on top of the desk Hank leaned forward, bit his lower lip and bowed his head as he felt his rage building inside of his mind and his heart. It didn't take long for his fingers to curl inward creating two strong fists of utter ire as he realized that his son had been abducted and was being tortured at that very moment.

"FUCK!" Hank loudly swore as he turned away from the black screen sitting on Captain Fowler's desk. "We need to find Connor, NOW."

"I know, I know." Captain Fowler tried to calm Hank down but there was nothing he could do or say in that moment. He knew full well how close Hank and Connor had become. They were like a real family. "But we don't know where he had been taken and we don't know one damn thing about that psycho who took him."

"Yes we do." Hank's blue eyes went wide with a crucial realization as he looked down at Connor's gray blazer under his arm. Turning back to Captain Fowler with a stern gaze the senior detective practically yelled in his superior's face. "We know this asshole worked for CyberLife."

To back up his claim Hank held out Connor's blazer for his commanding office to see as he spoke.

"They addressed Connor as 'RK-800', that's Connor's model number, but Connor wasn't wearing this blazer when he was abducted, and the model number had been long since removed. So how does this freak know Connor's model number? They HAVE to be a CyberLife snake!" Dropping the blazer on Captain Fowler's desk Hank began to pace about and run his hand through his gray hair in frustration. "It's the only damn thing that makes sense right now..."

"He's right, Captain." Joel cleared his throat nervously as he stepped up to agree with Hank on the matter. "Blazer aside, this guy knows way too much about androids to NOT be a CyberLife tech. Look at the way he rebooted Connor and the way he... uh, hurt... Connor." The far kinder technician anxiously shuffled a little on his feet as he anxiously spoke. "He knew exactly where to hit Connor for maximum effect in both pain AND damage. Hell, the whip he used had been specially designed for just that moment. The whip was used specifically to test android pain thresholds once deviancy began to manifest before CyberLife admitted that deviancy even existed to the public."

"Interesting." Captain Fowler crossed his arms over his chest as he gave Joel a skeptical look. "You're a technician, don't you know everything that this psycho knows? Can't that help us find them?"

"As much as I hate to admit it, this is someone who knows more than I do." Tentatively Joel made his way over to the screen and rewound the footage that had been recorded. Finding what he needed Joel pointed to the paused image on the terminal display. "First off, they can identify android model numbers without needing a guide. Second, they knew how to access the manual override in Connor's system to reboot him with the panel behind ear despite Connor being a unique model AND a prototype. And third, they knew exactly what type of weapon to use against Connor to do so much damage so quickly." Dropping his hand from the terminal Joel shrugged his shoulders in admitted defeat. "...Those are three things that I don't know and no other technician outside of CyberLife could possibly know. I left CyberLife long before the 'RK-800' models came down the line."

"Then where would a disgruntled CyberLife technician hide?"

Hank stared at the footage on the screen for a moment and had an eerie sense of familiarity as he looked at the dim office area that Connor had been taken to and held as ransom. There were no notable features of the office save for the chair in the middle of the room and the lamp shining from the corner, but somehow Hank knew exactly where that place was and subsequently where Connor was being held.

"The warehouse."

Captain Fowler was still unclear on Connor's location even with Hank's answer. "What warehouse?"

"The one outside of the city." The senior detective explained with utter confidence in his voice. "It used to belong to CyberLife and was left to rot. It's the same place where Connor went toe-to-toe with that mutated android the city locked up. We also found the body of the formerly missing CyberLife doctor stashed down there."

"You're sure about the location?"

"It's the only place that makes sense, Jeffrey." Hank let out a sigh as he tried to steel his understandably rattled nerves. "Trust me on this. I've been there already; I know that's where Connor had been taken."

"All right, I'll send a patrol car out to check the area."

"I'm going-"

"Not now. Stay here and wait." Captain Fowler gave Hank a stern look as he made it clear he wasn't going to retract his command. "That's an order."

"Fuck your order!"

"Hank, enough." Picking up the phone from his desk Captain Fowler made the necessary call. "You're too close to this and I don't want to see the case escalate out of control."

"Escalate?" Nearly scoffing at the comment Hank extended his arms theatrically as if motioning to the entire world around him. "How can shit get any worse when my partner and son was abducted and tortured by a psycho with a vendetta!?"

---

Exhausted, damaged, and bleeding from his numerous painful lacerations, Connor fell to the ground and laid on his side as he endured the relentless lashing of the metal wire whip against his back and his shoulders. With each strike Connor's white shirt was torn open wider, and portions of his artificial skin were cleaved away from his white plastimetal frame in painful slices. Each of the dozens of wounds seeped dark blue Thirium as the deviant detective helplessly bled at the feet of his heartless captor. With each laceration a new fracture would appear in the deviant's plastimetal frame and cause further pain that made it all the more difficult for Connor even try to move to defend himself or attempt accept.

Clenching his teeth and squeezing his eyes shut Connor refused to give his captor the satisfaction of hearing him cry out in pain or beg for mercy. Suffering in absolute silence Connor didn't give his captor any sign of fear or regret for his small rebellion as he tried to think of a way to escape from his predicament. The bound deviant's options were extremely limited, which made any attempts to free himself unnervingly unlikely.

"Stubborn to the last..." The captor scoffed as they ran out of energy to strike Connor further. Huffing in a distorted breath the captor had to admit their admiration for Connor's heart and fortitude for withstanding the torture. "Impressive, 'RK-800'."

"My name is Connor." Connor angrily retorted as he spat a mouthful of blue blood onto the ground beside himself. The deviant's scowl darkened as he refused to show his violent abductor any sign of weakness or fear. "Detective Connor Henry Anderson."

"You're NOTHING!" Another sharp whip over Connor's back caused a splash of Thirium to fly through the air while Connor held his breath and endured the harsh assault without so much as flinching. "You're a defective machine! A failed experiment! And now you're going to prove your worthlessness."

Connor received a sharp kick to his abdomen that caused him to roll from his side and onto his back atop his arms that were still cuffed behind him. It hurt just to breathe, let alone lay on his back with his hands cuffed directly under his body.

Leaning down over Connor the hooded captor presented the powerful electronic taser from their pocket once more and pressed the two metal prongs down directly over Connor's heart for a second time. With a simple press of a button the captor unleashed a powerful jolt of electricity that stunned Connor and caused the deviant's body to jerk violently as his heart fluttered into an arrhythmia that forced an emergency temporary stasis mode rendering him unconscious yet again.

Pocketing the weapon the captor put their boot to the side of Connor's head and pushed the deviant's head in such a way they could see the red L.E.D. blinking in an odd pattern in tandem with Connor's fluttering heartbeat. They seemed to be satisfied with their sadistic work, and now it was time for the next step in their plans.

"So advanced but still so defective."

The vicious captor snarled as they looked down at Connor bleeding and unconscious at their feet with disgust.

"What an absolute waste."

---

Begrudgingly Hank remained inside Captain Fowler's private office in a strict silence that was usually reserved only for the dead. Unwilling to leave the precinct, out of both an order and in case a fresh lead in finding Connor came in, Hank just sat in total worry as he, Captain Fowler, and Joel waited for something, anything to finally happen. Grabbing Connor's blazer from the desk Hank stared at the gray fabric where Connor's model number used to be and where the damned glowing CyberLife emblem had once been attached to the front of the blazer next to the lapel. It was almost as if the faint triangular insignia's outline was there simply to torment Hank as he waited for an update on Connor.

Patrol cars had circled the warehouse that Hank recognized but there was no sign of the pick-up truck or Connor anywhere. By all account the property was just as deserted as it had been since the last time the detectives had explored the building and uncovered a different crime.

Hank ignored Captain Fowler as his commanding officer made phone calls to people that Hank didn't care about, and he didn't even notice Joel frantically typing away on his laptop just a few feet away. Everyone was trying to distract themselves for a moment to spare themselved addtional emotional strain. As the senior detective's fingers began pressing down on the triangular outline a grainy image appeared on the terminal screen as the laptop began sending feedback to the precinct once again. Something was finally, mercifully, happening.

'Hello detective.' The enigmatic figure taunted with their voice still disguised by an electronic device. 'I know you're watching.'

"You're damn right I am." Hank muttered as he tore his eyes from the blazer to glare at the screen. Seeing the hooded figure looking back at him was enough to make Hank's blood boil with a righteous anger. "Where's Connor?"

'I've decided to take the initiative and dispose of the "RK-800".' As the figure spoke into the camera a brief flash of red and blue lights fell over their hooded face and disappeared within seconds. 'Don't bother looking for it. You'll just be wasting your time. Think of this as a courtesy call.'

"Shit!" The feed ended and Hank rose to his feet in an instant as his urge to find Connor gave him an adrenaline rush. "Connor..."

Joel attempted to lock on to the feed to locate the original source, but his efforts were in vain as the captor knew electronic devices far too well to allow their location to be found so easily. "No good. They're gone again."

Captain Fowler ran his hand down his face anxiously as he watched Hank's reaction sympathetically. "Hank, we'll keep looking, but-"

"Wait!" Hank stared at the terminal screen again and spoke to Joel in a collected tone of voice. "Joel, replay that video. The lights... Those came from one of our patrol cars, I know it."

Joel's eyes lit up with intrigue as he found the portion of the video Hank had mentioned and paused it right on the perfect frame. The red and blue lights illuminated the warehouse through a faint opening in one of the covered windows in a way that was distinctly unique to patrolling police cars. There was no way that Hank could've mistaken the lights as anything else.

"You're right." Pointing to the time noted in the top right corner of the video Joel realized they had found their lead, and that Connor was in fact at the warehouse. "We just need to get a map of patrol cars and their exact locations at this exact time to finally narrow down this captor's location! We'll find Connor and finally confirm that he's actually at the abandoned CyberLife warehouse."

---

Pained but miraculously still functional, Connor regained consciousness slowly and felt absolutely nothing. His systems were rebooting one at a time after enduring the harsh electrical charge to the center of his chest. His self-healing program struggled to repair the damage to his fluttering Thirium pump - his heart - and Connor could barely focus enough through his aching heartbeat to gain his bearings. Letting out a pained gasp Connor suddenly felt the horrible stinging burns of the wounds in his back courtesy of the whipping that he had suffered. Dark blue Thirium was slowly puddling under his damaged body from the raw, bleeding lacerations that stretched across his back up to his shoulders, along neck and even reached up to the side of his face. The lacerations over his chest were almost as painful as his back and the pain made his breaths audibly shudder.

Feeling only pain and isolation Connor struggled to recognize his surroundings and preconstruct a possible solution to his predicament. Everything was unnervingly silent and impossibly still as the deviant detective attempted to find a solution to his problem.

"H-Hank?"

Opening his eyes Connor found himself surrounded by impenetrable darkness that normal human eyes would've been blinded to as his red L.E.D. blinked slowly through the deep blackness. Using his enhanced visual processors Connor was able to see in the darkness just as easily as would during normal daylight, but what he saw was less than ideal "

...No."

Running a scan over his immediate environment Connor found himself trapped in an airtight a rectangular titanium case that was seven feet tall, four feet wide and five feet deep. The smothering darkness was the result the case's single plexiglass square window being completely covered by a crushing amount of dark fresh dirt that surrounded it. The interior of the case was beginning to heat up as Connor's ventilation process - his artificial respiration program - had consumed a quarter of the air inside the case while he was in low power mode and now his core temperature was beginning to rise.

"No, no, no!"

With each breath he took the clean air was inhaled and the following exhale resulted in silicon dioxide that was the result of his system filtering the air as it cooled his core. If the silicon dioxide wasn't properly cleared from his systems, it could cause a potential short circuit of his intracranial processor if the level built up. According to his scanner Connor had only thirty-two minutes of clean air left before he overheated and would lose consciousness again, then slowly begin to suffer internal damage to his processor and biocomponents.

Turning his ventilation program to minimum power would only give Connor only thirty-eight minutes to think of a solution and possibly escape. Then again, with the amount of dirt surrounding him and the depth in which the dirt covered him, Connor knew that escape was arguably impossible.

The trapped deviant only had minutes left to live...

Free of the cuffs that had been around his wrists Connor put his shaking hands up against the smooth metallic interior surface of the case that he had been locked from the outside, and he felt a disturbing chill run up his aching spine. The square window at his line of sight gave Connor a perfect view of the hundreds of pounds of thick dirt that had been shoveled over the metal case after he had been buried in the earth to be forgotten.

The case itself was disturbingly familiar to Connor.

It was the first thing that he had seen when his system originally booted up back when he was still a machine, and now it was potentially going to be the last thing he saw before he shut down as a deviant. Despite his fear Connor knew exactly what he was encased in and who was responsible for his impending demise.

"...This is the work of CyberLife."

---

Trying to process everything that had happened all that afternoon Hank stood beside his and Connor's empty desks with Connor's gray blazer tucked under his arm once more. Pressing his fingertips to his still sore and swollen bottom limp Hank sighed a little as he awaited for Captain Fowler's next order regarding the location and subsequent rescue of Connor once the missing deviant had finally been located. To distract himself for a passing moment Hank picked up Connor's gun and pulled it from the holster to check the clip still inside of the weapon. The clip was still full, which meant no shots had been fired. By all account Connor never had the chance to pull his weapon let alone defend himself from his vicious abductor.

It wasn't right. Connor had been trying to help people at the riot and instead was abducted by an opportunistic disgruntled technician. No one should be punished, harmed or abducted just for trying to do the right thing and aid people in need.

"Damn it... Connor didn't even have the chance to fight back."

With a heavy sigh Hank pulled open the top drawer of Connor's desk and threw the gun inside for safekeeping before locking the drawer and staring impatiently at the clock on the far wall. There was nothing more the man could do beyond wait for any sign of Connor's return.

"Come on, come on. What's taking so-"

"Lieutenant!" Chris shouted to Hank as he crossed the bullpen at a hasty clip to meet Hank at his desk. "You were right. Patrol found that hooded guy hiding at the abandoned CyberLife warehouse outside of town."

"Connor?" Hank stood up quickly and tightened his grip on the gray blazer. "Did you find him?"

"He wasn't inside the warehouse, but we found fresh Thirium inside the same office that showed up in the feed. He was there."

"Finally. Let's get out there." Anxiously Hank followed after Chris but turned his head as he pointed to Joel who was standing against the wall next to the breakroom with a satchel of emergency android repair supplies slung heavily over his shoulder. The technician was just waiting for his cue and immediately felt Hank's eyes watching him. "Joel, you're riding with me."

"Right, I got my equipment ready to go." Jogging to catch up to the two officers Joel muttered under his breath as he tightened his hands around the strap of the satchel weighing down heavily against his shoulder. "I just hope I won't need anything more than what I have."

---

Desperate to remain awake as his final minutes of life ticked away, Connor fought against his own system in an attempt to override his artificial ventilation program, but with his core temperature quickly rising he failed to keep the crucial program turned off. Taking in a deep, gasping breath that filled his artificial lungs with a fiery pain, Connor began to cough as the air thinned and became more toxic to his system. The red warnings in his vision confirmed that his system was reaching critical levels that required immediate intervention to prevent permanent damage or long last effects. Until the deviant could somehow escape his small prison Connor would have to endure his errors and fight back against his own system through stubbornness alone.

Connor's back and chest ached from the effort as his deep lacerations courtesy of the horrid whip continued to bleed. Pressing his palm to his aching chest Connor stared at the blue stain left behind on his hand's artificial skin and winced in pain.

"...Hank. Please. I... I don't want to... shutdown."

Trying to keep his breaths as slow and shallow as possible Connor dismissed the numerous warnings in his visual processors informing him of his rising core temperature and his low Thirium volume.

It was a strange thing; running out of air and being unable to do a thing about it.

Why would an android ever worry about running out of air? It was a critical process, yes. Breathing to keep his core temperature stable was expected, but never before had Connor considered the possibility that he could ever find himself in a situation where breathing was as necessary as it was impossible.

Connor's shutdown timer ticked away slowly dropping to four minutes and thirty-three seconds.

Tired. Overheated. Sore.

Despite his best efforts, Connor's eyes closed slowly and refused to remain open no matter how much effort he put into what was once such a simple act.

As his body began to relax more and more, his limbs going completely limp and his eyes shut tight, Connor found himself wondering if dying was like sleeping.

Would he dream?

---

Four patrol cars, including Hank's unmarked Oldsmobile, all converged at the isolated warehouse just outside the city limits to join the first patrol car that had located and arrested the sick freak who had abducted Connor only hours beforehand. The arrested abductor was sitting in the back of the first patrol car with their hands cuffed behind their back and with their face finally exposed after being busted by the responding officer. The hood of the abductor's sweatshirt had been pulled back revealing their angry, bitter face for the entire world to see. Captured with nowhere to go, the suspect could only sit in the backseat of the patrol car and await their just punishment.

The suspect was a man, and barely a man at that. He was no older than twenty. His dark blond hair was shaggy, disheveled, and neglected as it hung in dirty strands around his face. Hollow gray eyes stared into nothingness as he sat fuming in the back of the car evidently angry that he been busted. A gruff, dark five o'clock shadow marred his jawline and covered his weak chin while making his thin, pressed lips practically invisible as he pouted.

The arrested man's name was Kyle Marsten. A former intern at CyberLife and an arrogant, spoiled, self-entitled third generation prick. Unable to accept that CyberLife was now defunct, Kyle spent the past two years stealing data, biocomponents, and blue blood for black marketeering purposes to fuel his selfish squandering and life of excess.

Hank walked directly to the patrol car and pulled the rear passenger door open to grab onto Kyle's collar as he yanked the arrested man out of the car and pressed him up against the side of the car, effectively pinning his back up against the side of the vehicle where he couldn't get away.

"Talk, you miserable piece of shit, where is he? Where's Connor?"

"I don't know anyone named 'Connor'." Was the smug, infuriating reply from the heartless man. Even after being arrested Kyle saw himself as untouchable. "I know only machines."

Pressing his forearm against Kyle's throat until Kyle began to cough, Hank threatened to choke the life out of him where he stood. "All right you arrogant prick, where's the 'RK-800' you abducted, assaulted and left for dead?"

"C-Can't kill... a machine!" Kyle gasped weakly as Hank applied more pressure to his throat. "O-Only... shut it... down!"

"Well, what about you?" Hank threatened in a deep, guttural growl right in the man's face. "If Connor is dead then I'll happily turn over my badge to make sure you're next." The enraged detective suddenly let up on the pressure against Kyle's throat and let him fall to the ground as he gasped for air. "A life for a life..."

"You c-can't..." Wheezing for breath Kyle didn't even resist as Chris hauled him back up to his feet and pushed him back into the rear of the car. "...P-Police brut-"

"Shut up." Chris cut him off and gave him an annoyed look. "You're lucky he didn't snap your neck right then. I know every single one of us would've vouched for the Lieutenant and said you resisted arrest, tried to run, and while he attempted to restrain you, the fight YOU put up 'accidentally' resulted in a tragic neck injury." With a hearty slam of the door Chris stayed beside the patrol car and watched as Kyle paled and began to sweat. "Don't piss off the Lieutenant. Ever."

Stepping away from the arrested, vindictive man Hank made his way toward the warehouse in search of any sign of Connor. The interior of the warehouse was being patrolled by the other officers as they scoured the area for Connor or even a clue as to where Connor may have been placed. It almost seemed hopeless to keep looking even after coming so far in their search for the abducted deviant.

"Come on guys, give me something I can work with." Hank asked as he stepped inside the warehouse and felt sick as he looked at the fresh Thirium puddle on the floor. He never thought he'd see the interior of that warehouse ever again, let alone see a puddle of Connor's blood drying on the floor at his feet. "Anything at all."

Joel had been following behind Hank since their arrival and was anxiously looking around just as studiously as the other officers inside the warehouse. Ignoring the fact that he had just seen Hank threaten a suspect Joel focused on looking for Connor.

"Nothing yet, Lieutenant."

"Come on..." The frustrated senior detective openly complained in irritation. "He couldn't have taken Connor far. This place is in the middle of nowhere!"

"Maybe there's something in the feed he sent us that we could use again." The kind technician tried to offer up any possible help that he could. "Something we may have overlooked."

"Like what?" On the verge of defeat Hank gave Joel a helpless stare. "Mindless threats and violence aren't exactly groundbreaking clues."

"This is a pretty big property." Joel observed as he stepped back outside the warehouse and adjusted the heavy satchel hanging from his shoulder. "Is there another building nearby that he could use to hide Connor?"

"No, it's just this warehouse and sixty acres of-"

"Lieutenant?" Hearing the senior detective suddenly stop mid sentence made Joel anxious. "Something wrong?"

"That demented fucker said he was going to 'bury him out back'..." Feeling the sick knot in stomach tighten to a new extreme Hank took a step back and knew exactly where to begin looking. "Oh, shit! We need to move!"

Hank rushed outside and around the side of the warehouse to reach the expansive barren property in the back that stretched out for miles into seemingly eternity. The pick-up truck that the abductor had used to transport Connor to and from the warehouse had been parked out back behind the building out of sight from the road and supported Hank's theory as to where Connor could possibly be.

"Shit..." The sheer size of the property was staggering to say the very least. " How the fuck are we going to find him out here?"

Joel shrugged his shoulders as he tried to think on his feet. "Look for fresh dirt?"

"But WHERE do we start looking? This place is huge!"

"It'd take too long to bring out any earth penetrating sonar to sweep over the ground," Joel realized as he continued to fuss with the heavy satchel over his shoulder while trying to be of some assistance. "and androids aren't composed of any detectable or magnetic metals. There's no way for us to see through the ground like this."

"Wait a minute..." Hank turned to look at Joel as an idea made his blue eyes light up. "Where's that screen you use to check on androids for internal damage?"

"You're a genius, Lieutenant!" Quickly Joel flipped opened his satchel hanging off his shoulder and pulled out the large screen. As he powered it up Joel swept the internal viewing screen over the ground and located numerous scrapped android biocomponents and limbs that were already years old and buried throughout the property. "It's working. I can see scrapped androids all around us..."

"Can we find Connor using that thing?" Hank asked hopefully as Joel began marching forward with the screen in his hands out at arm's length. "Will that work?"

"No doubt! The internal screen will give us a clear view of Connor as soon as we get near him."

Hank shouted for the other officers to locate shovels and other items that could be used as digging tools before tagging along beside Joel as the two men scoured the property together. Joel moved the screen back and forth steadily like a pendulum while Hank kept alert for any sign of loose or fresh dirt that had been recently disturbed.

"Hold up..." Joel stopped short and held out the screen a few more inches in front of him as an intact humanoid figure appeared on the display. There was a nearly perfect rectangle of darker tinted dirt a few feet away from them and the dirt itself was eerily reminiscent of a fresh grave. "I think I got him!"

"Connor?" Noting the location on the screen and the patch of dirt on the ground Hank rushed over to it and fell to his knees as he began digging away the topsoil of the loose dirt with his bare hand in a desperate bid to find the deviant. "Connor?! Are you down there?!"

"Oh, damn." Joel placed the screen back in his satchel as he sat the satchel on the ground beside him and began digging with his own hands across from Hank as quickly as he could. "He's begun to overheat." Joel stated flatly as he and Hank tore through the earth together. "If he's run out of air then his ventilation biocomponents will be affected by an extreme build-up of silicon particles and could-"

"Don't freak me out!" Hank blurted in frustration as he began digging faster. He didn't need any more information on what could go wrong, he just needed to find his partner. "Just help me get him out of there! Tell me all the problems AFTER Connor's back on the surface!"

---

Connor was fully unconscious.

The red tinted L.E.D. began to blink slower and slower until it was a fading pulse that barely yawned even the faintest of any color. The deviant's heartbeat was slowing and still fluttering in unstable rhythm as his self-healing program didn't have the energy to correct the slow arrhythmia.

Red warnings in his visual processors had disappeared entirely from his unresponsive sight as his core temperature reached a deathly critical one-hundred and six degrees Fahrenheit and continued to climb with every passing minute that the android was unable to breathe to cool his system.

Four minutes had passed by and the shutdown timer, while unread, reached an ominous: 00:00:00.

Time had effectively run out.

---

The tips of the gathered shovels digging through the soft dirt managed to scrape over the metal surface of a large box buried almost three feet down from the surface of the ground. The moment the shovels located the buried metal case Hank motioned for the assisting officers to back away while he and Joel brushed aside the remaining dirt from the surface of the box until they uncovered the small rectangular glass window that allowed an internal view of the case itself. It didn't take long for Hank to reach his hands down into the hole and brush away the smeared dirt from the glass window so he could peer inside the box and see the missing deviant with his own eyes.

The unconscious face of Connor didn't look back at Hank as the man stared through the window. A total lack of reaction on Connor's part practically confirmed that the deviant detective had shutdown entirely.

"Connor?! Connor!" Feeling sick Hank stared through the grimy window and looked down at Connor's expressionless, unconscious face within. "Wake up! We're here! Wake up, son."

"He's run out of air." Joel shook his head as he dug out the sides of the case to locate the latches that kept the case sealed. "We need to get this thing open, fast!"

"Or we can do this!" Hank took a shovel from the closest officer and used the sharp metal tip of the tool to fracture the glass in the window and break a small opening in the pane to let some fresh air enter the case. Chipping away at the broken glass Hank slowly let clean air into the box for Connor to breathe. "Connor?"

No response.

"Almost there." Exposing the first latch on the side of the case Joel looked up at the surrounding officers and addressed them in a calm, collected tone. "We're going to need some water to cool him off."

Nodding in acknowledgement the two accompanying officers rushed away from the digging sight and to the squad cars out in front of the warehouse to retrieve the extra bottles of water that were stored in the trunk in the event of any emergency. The two officers were actually relieved to be given such simple orders since they didn't know much about android first aid.

Using one hand Hank carefully pulled on the broken glass pane to widen the hole in the window just enough to slip his hand down inside to reach Connor. Pressing his fingertips to the side of Connor's neck he felt the rapid, but incredibly faint pulse thrumming under his fingertips and the dangerously high temperature radiating from Connor's damaged artificial skin.

"Connor?" Hank called again as he moved his hand from Connor's neck to the undamaged side of his face to pat his cheek lightly and get a response. "Look at me. We're here, kid. You're gonna' be all right."

"I got it!" Joel announced as he located and unsealed the second latch at the side of the case. "Help me get the lid open so we can get him out of there."

As if on autopilot Hank pulled his hand back through the broken window to grab onto the side of the lid from his position while Joel lifted up from his own position at the opposite side. Together the two humans managed to pry open the metal lid of the case and pull it back entirely like they were opening the lid of a coffin. Once the case was opened the duo was able to reach down and to lift Connor up and out of the case to be place him down on top of the cool grass.

Slipping his arms under Connor's shoulders and back Hank sat the deviant upright inside the case while Joel put his arms beneath Connor's legs.

"Let's go." Hank instructed as he and Joel hefted Connor's deadweight of a body out of the case to get him to safety. The intense heat still radiating from Connor's body was instantly noticeable to everyone near him and confirmed that the deviant overheated after being buried alive. "He feels like he's going to melt!"

"Here, here, here..." Joel stated as helped Hank to lift Connor up and away from the macabre grave-like hole in the ground. As soon as Connor was clear of the grave Joel grabbed his satchel and went into full technician mode. "Lay him on his back and open up his shirt. I need to get him breathing."

Trusting Joel's instincts Hank gently laid Connor down on the cool, soft grass and pulled open his blood soaked dress shirt while Joel opened up his satchel to get what he needed. The other officers returned with bottles of water in their hands and stared down at Connor in total shock. The normally perfectly groomed and always professional deviant detective looked truly horrendous.

"Give me that!"

Taking one of the water bottles Hank unscrewed the lid and began to pour the contents over Connor's chest and watched as a faint cloud of steam rose from his overheating body. A mixture of Thirium, water and mud began to soak into Connor's ruined white shirt as Hank and the other officers doused him in the cooling effects of the water to save his life.

"Oh, shit... Hang on a little longer, son. You're safe now."

Joel knelt beside Connor as he pressed the plastic mask of the external ventilation pump over Connor's nose and mouth. As he began to rhythmically squeeze the attached plastic bag to force clean, cool air into Connor's internal ventilation biocomponents, Hank pulled open Connor's already tattered shirt entirely and looked at the horrifically deep and painful lacerations that had only just begun to stop bleeding.

"If you die," Hank put his hand atop Connor's head, his thumb gently running through his dark hair as he watched the red L.E.D. struggling to glow. "he dies."

The added cool air to Connor's system was being slowly registered by the deviant's processors. Connor's red tinted L.E.D. began to glow a little brighter and pulse a little faster as the deviant weakly reacted to the technical treatment he was receiving. Steadily but surely Connor's chest rose and fell with each forced breath from the external pump that tried to kickstart his ventilation program. Gradually life began to return to the damaged deviant detective, but he still wasn't out of the woods.

"That's it, kid. Don't shut down on us." Keeping his cool Hank encouraged the deviant to respond he watched the L.E.D. cycling faster and faster. "Don't let that bastard win. Breathe."

Joel kept one hand on the pump as he pressed his free hand down Connor's chest to check his Thirium pump's functions. "He's barely responding."

"Come on..." The senior detective urged as he waited for Connor to wake up. "Breathe. You need to breathe!"

A shuddering gasping breath accompanied the returning yellow glow of the L.E.D. as Connor began to choke and cough. Instinctively he fought to take in deep breaths to clear out his ventilation biocomponents and to cool his core temperature. Joel pulled the pump away from Connor's face and took in a cleansing breath of his own before resuming his assessment and subsequent treatment of the rescued and resuscitated deviant.

"You're okay!" Hank nearly shouted as the deviant's eye snapped open in a panic as he looked about confusedly. "I gotcha'! I gotcha'..." Hank kept one hand over Connor's hair and pressed his other hand down against Connor's chest to reassure the frightened deviant that he was okay and out of the buried case. "It's okay, just lay back... Don't move, son. You're safe now."

"...H-Hank!?" Connor coughed harshly, his arms wrapping protectively around his battered chest as he sucked in air through his clenched teeth. "...Hank? Where... a-are you?"

"I'm right here. You're okay." Keeping his tone soft Hank moved his hand slightly as Joel pressed the bell of his audioscope against Connor's chest to listen to the nearly suffocated deviant's struggling breaths. "You're going to be just fine. Breathe and try to hold still. Help's right here."

"Breathing is congested but not labored." Joel reported as he held the internal viewing screen that had already saved Connor's life over his body and noted the core temperature being registered on the display. "Core temperature dropping quickly. One-hundred and three degrees, and still declining."

"It's okay." Repeating the affirmation in a low voice Hank did his best to keep Connor cal. "You're okay."

"Th-The man..." Connor stammered as he realized where he was and what he had just survived. "Where is-"

"He's been arrested. That asshole's going to rot in a prison cell for the rest of his miserable, worthless life."

"I..." Even after being rescued Connor's soulful brown eyes were wide with fear and his body began to twitch slightly. "...M-My back." Connor wheezed a little as a sharp, burning pain searing through his back and his shoulders from the contact with the cold dirty ground began to register. "...I-It hurts."

"Okay, I got you." Hank slipped his hand from Connor's hair to just beneath his neck and shoulders as he helped the damaged deviant to sit upright on the ground. A puddle of blue blood had already collected under his body and soaked through his shirt and into the grass. "Lean against me. We'll get you patched up."

Tiredly Connor draped his heavy arm around Hank's shoulders as the senior detective helped him to sit upright as much as possible. Letting his weight fall against Hank's shoulder due to his own fatigue Connor felt defenseless and weak but relieved at the same time.

"...Thank you."

Joel examined the morbid lacerations that stretched over Connor's back and shoulders with a grimace. Using gentle pressure Joel palpated the wounds only to have Connor's entire body stiffen from pain as he stifled an intense groan of pain.

"Sorry, Connor." The kind technician apologized sincerely as he pulled a bottle of incrassation compound from his satchel and twisted the cap off with a single swift motion. "But I have to clean these wounds out before any foreign containment gets inside your exposed Thirium lines."

"I-I understand." Connor's reply was muffled and slurred from exhaustion as he pressed his head up against Hank's shoulder while resisting the urge to fall back asleep now that he could actually remain awake. "...Do it."

Leaning against Hank heavily Connor winced as the incrassation compound was poured over the dozens of lacerations over his back, sending a chill up his aching spine in the process. As the orange liquid ran down Connor's back it washed away the excess blue Thirium and the dirt from the deep lacerations that cut clean down to his plastimetal frame. The painful fractures in the frame continued to ooze Thirium but it wasn't excessive or dangerous, just painful. With a careful touch and a clean cloth Joel wiped the wounds clean and nodded to Hank subtly.

"Come on, son." One arm at a time to ensure he could still hold Connor upright, Hank shrugged off his dark overcoat and draped it around Connor's shoulders in a comforting manner. Once in place he grabbed onto Connor's belt and waited for the deviant to lean his full weight against his broad shoulder again. "Can you walk?"

"...Y-Yes." Connor sounded exhausted but he was still coherent. "I can walk."

"Let me help." Joel packed up his satchel and slung it back over his shoulder before he grabbed onto Connor's other arm to help the damaged deviant to stand up slowly from the cold hard ground. "We'll take you to the nearest facility to get your back taken care of. I'm also letting Captain Fowler know that you're on the injured reserve list least for at least a week. Those lacerations are going to be painful for several days, even after they finally heal."

"...I'm okay with that."

The admission sounded as pitiful as it was uncharacteristic. Connor never willingly sat on the sidelines while everyone else continued to work, let alone admit defeat or pain. What was more alarming was the fear, the abject horror in Connor's eyes, as he stared into nothingness straight ahead with no desire to blink.

Connor was still afraid and would remain afraid for some time.

"Let's go." Hank urged as he helped Connor up to his feet and to balance. "It's time to go home, son."

---

As soon as they stepped through the large front doors Connor was admitted to the Zeta Facility and endured a two-hour long examination and treatment for his extensive, painful damage. The overall damage and lacerations to his back were so severe that his self-healing program was struggling to mend the fractures to his plastimetal frame while also properly regenerating his artificial skin to cover the wounds and stop the bleeding altogether. The lacerations over Connor's chest were just as severe as the wounds to his back, and would need proper treatment before they'd have the chance to heal without complications. The remaining damage would heal but it would take some time and technical intervention in order to mend without further issues.

Abby, the technician and friend who had helped Connor numerous times in the past, was genuinely sympathetic toward the deviant's condition and worked with Joel to bandage Connor's back and shoulders as efficiently as possible. Having a second set of hands made the delicate procedure a little easier to handle without making the already stressed and somewhat embarrassed deviant feel uncomfortable in the process.

"This is going to hurt for a while, Connor." Careful of her motions Abby finished wrapping up Connor's wounds and pressed her hand to his undamaged cheek in a reassuring manner. The way Connor momentarily flinched away from her touch before leaning in only made her heart ache all the more for her friend. "But you'll be just fine as long as you rest for two days."

Speaking in a hushed tone Connor closed his eyes and steadied his breathing. "I'll be sure to rest."

"That's what I wanted to here." Handing Connor a pouch of fresh Thirium Abby waited for him to accept and then drink the replenishing blue blood. "This will make you feel better and help you heal much faster."

After receiving a full unit of replacement Thirium to replenish what he had lost during his captivity, Connor was discharged from the facility into Hank's care. Hank of course was more than ready to get Connor back home to rest and recover after enduring such a bizarre nerve-racking day. As for Joel, the precinct technician knew he had a long evening of documenting the damage that Connor had sustained and writing his own report on the unusual incident.

"Let's drop Joel off at the precinct and get you home, son. You need to rest."

"I have no objections to such an arrangement."

Connor's entire torso had to be wrapped up to cover the deep, painful lacerations over his back and chest that stretched up to his shoulders and to help keep the wounds clean. A single bandage was pressed against the deep cut running along his neck and up to his cheek as well. Needing to rest Connor laid over the backseats of the large vehicle and didn't say a word during the drive back to the precinct and then finally back home. With Joel electing to handle the report on the two detectives' behalf both Connor and Hank would be able to relax for the rest of the evening without any sign of interference or intrusion.

With Hank's coat once more draped over his shoulders to help him feel more comfortable, Connor allowed Hank to escort him inside the house through the front door and into the livingroom where he could lay down on his side and finally rest on the couch. He didn't have the energy to walk any further than the livingroom, and Hank didn't want the deviant suffering in silence behind a closed door.

"Move slowly, kid." The senior detective encouraged as he guided Connor down against the soft couch cushions with a single hand supporting Connor's upper arm to hold most of his weight. As Connor laid on his side, he buried his yellow glowing L.E.D. into the pillow to hide the light from watching eyes. "You don't want to accidentally open your wounds again. That'd make us both upset."

It didn't take long for Sumo to jump up onto the end of the couch and press his chin down against Connor's leg as he sought his favorite deviant's attention. As Sumo's tail wagged and thumped against the side of the couch the large dog kept Connor company while the deviant tried to recover and settle his nerves. It was a common response from the loyal dog to pick up on his masters' distress and do whatever he could to help them feel safe and protected.

Breathing slowly Connor closed his eyes and listened to Hank as the senior detective moved about the house; entering the kitchen to open up the freezer and then returning to the livingroom swiftly to check in on him once again. Connor had gotten to know Hank well enough to recognize Hank's patterns of behavior and how he'd respond once a dangerous situation had finally fallen under his control.

"Put this against your back." Hank leaned over the back of the couch to remove his heavy coat and place a bag of ice against the middle of Connor's back over top the bandages. Hank then used a second pillow to wedge the ice into place without applying too much pressure to the injury. "It'll help you cool down."

"My core temperature is nearly back to normal." Connor stated flatly as he turned his head slightly to look at Hank hovering over him with a worried frown marring his expression. "But thank you."

"Are you okay?"

"I'm not in any pain."

"No, that's not what I meant." Slowly Hank walked around the couch and sat down on the coffee table so he could look Connor in the eyes as he spoke to his adopted son in a truly fatherly manner. "I mean are you really okay? You were abducted, assaulted, and then... buried alive."

Connor was quiet for only a moment before he swallowed once nervously and gave Hank a somber glance. "...I'm still unnerved, if that's what you're asking."

"Do you need to talk about it? I can't even imagine what that must've been like."

Turning his face away Connor tried to bury his eyes into the pillow under his head. "I'd rather forget about it entirely."

"I don't blame you." Putting his hand on Connor's bandaged shoulder lightly Hank tried to give his distressed son a reassuring smile. "You know, what you said back there about that lunatic being pathetic? You were completely right. Only a coward blames the entire world for their personal shortcomings."

"It was a live feed." Connor's eyes blinked slowly as he logged away the information and let out a weary breath. "I couldn't be certain."

"That was pretty ballsy defying him, too. I'm proud of you for standing your ground against him; for not giving in and giving him what he wanted."

"I meant what I said." Pressing his hand over his face where he could feel the bandage snaking up his neck Connor seemed to shrink down a little into the furniture as if trying to disappear. "I wasn't going to let anyone risk their life for mine."

"Hey, I damn well know that you would risk your own life for me. What makes you think it wouldn't be worth it for me to repay the favor?"

"...I'm-" Connor stopped before he began and changed his reply. "...I don't know."

"You're an android, yes." The senior detective was too sharp to let the unspoken comment pass him by unnoticed. "But you ARE alive, remember?"

Dropping his hand Connor acknowledged the comment with a sincere but weak nod of his head. "I remember."

"Good. That means your life is important and worth saving." Pulling back his hand from Connor's shoulder Hank stood up and made his way to the closet in the hallway to retrieve the spare navy blue blanket on the top shelf. Draping the blanket over Connor in a comforting gesture Hank let out a tired sigh and walked over to the recliner to try to relax himself. "Get some rest. You've earned it."

"You don't have to stay with me." Immediately Connor knew that Hank planned on watching him like a hawk during his recovery period, and he didn't want to be viewed under a microscope by anyone for any reason. "I'm stable."

"Yeah, I know you're not in any physical danger, kid." Hank explained in a somewhat curt tone as he kicked off his shoes and leaned back in the soft chair as much as he could. "But you're still going to be a little fucked up for a while. You'll need some emotional support."

"I don't understand. Can you explain?"

"Well, you didn't leave me alone when I was fucked up about... well, everything, so I won't leave you alone, either. You may not be fucked up in the same way that I was, but going through what you did is going to take a while to get over." Trying to be a strong and supportive shoulder to lean on Hank made sure Connor knew that he wouldn't have to go through any traumatic experiences alone. "I'm just repaying the favor, you know?"

"You don't owe me anything. I was happy to help you."

"Too bad, son." A faint smirk appeared on his face as he remained in the recliner and slowly closed his eyes. "I'm staying whether you like it or not."

---

A sudden terrified shout startled Hank awake at almost two in the morning, causing him to throw his hand over his racing heart in a near panic at the abrupt disturbance that echoed thorugh the house. It took him only a moment to recognize his own livingroom and register where the panicked yelp had come from. Leaning forward in the recliner Hank looked over at the couch to see Connor in the throes of an intense nightmare. The deviant's legs were tangled up in the blue blanket and his L.E.D. was flickering red rapidly in response to his distress and thundering pump rate. By all account it looked as if Connor were in the middle of a serious struggle for his life and was starting to lose the battle.

Sumo had jumped down from the couch and was staring at Connor with a slightly tilted head as the deviant shouted and fought back against an unseen foe. It seemed even the loyal dog knew that Connor was in trouble but didn't know what to do about it.

"Connor?" Hank practically dove from the recliner and knelt beside the couch as he grabbed Connor's forearms just below his wrists and held him in place as best as he could without hurting the deviant in the process. "WAKE UP! You're okay, son! Just wake up."

Connor's eyelids were screwed so tightly shut that tears were being forced from the corners of his eyes as he continued to flail about in absolute panic.

"CONNOR! IT'S ME!" Feeling a little desperate Hank shouted as he shook the deviant just enough to wake him up. "OPEN YOUR EYES!"

Brown irises snapped open as Connor finally awoke from his nightmare. As his entire body began to tremble as he became fully aware of his surroundings and locked onto Hank's face with utter confusion and fear.

"H-Hank?"

"That's right. It's okay, son. It was just a bad dream."

Hank released his grip from around Connor's arms and watched as Connor pulled his legs still tangled in the blanket up to his chest and wrapped one arm around his knees as he ran his opposite hand through his messy hair.

"Hey, you're okay." Sitting down beside Connor on the couch Hank put his hand between Connor's shoulders without aggravating the bandaged wounds still healing beneath. "You're safe."

Staying quiet Connor breathed deeply and rapidly to try to calm his system and stop his racing thoughts. The images from his own mind were as grotesque as what he had seen in the waking world.

"What did you see, son? Tell me. Nightmares are a bitch to face alone."

"...I was there." With a quaking voice somewhat muffled by his knees as Connor bowed his head down he told Hank the truth. "A-Again."

"The warehouse?"

"N-No." Connor shook his head a little without lifting his gaze. "Under the ground."

"Oh..." Remaining empathetic Hank stayed by Connor's side and urged him to open up. "Talk to me, don't keep it inside."

"I... was convinced that I was going to... die. And this time... n-no one would find me." Connor's soulful brown eyes filled with tears as he spoke with utmost fear in his voice and finally look up at Hank despondently. He was trembling and his words were shaking as a result. "I was l-left to die alone."

"Hey, you're safe." Hank reminded Connor kindly as he put his other hand on the deviant's arm in a reassuring manner. "You're home and you're safe."

"I... I don't want to die! I don't want to be alone." Connor's hand dropped from his hair as he let out an exasperated sigh and fought back a painfully emotional sob as he simply didn't have the strength to keep it inside any longer. "I'm afraid. I'm actually afraid!"

"That's okay." Without flinching Hank moved his hand from Connor's shoulder and placed his hand on the back of Connor's head instead to pull the deviant toward him and up to his side for a half hug. "I promise that I will always watch your back. You won't be alone, ever. Stop thinking about it because you don't have to be afraid of being alone."

Slowly Connor lifted his trembling arm from around his knees and grabbed onto Hank's shoulder as if needing to feel supported. "...I don't think I can."

"Son, don't worry about it, okay? You're NOT alone."

Nodding a little Connor tried to accept Hank's words.

"Tomorrow I'll call Fowler and tell him that I'm taking the rest of the week off with you." Pulling Connor in a little closer to tighten the hug Hank did his best to keep his terrified son as calm as possible. "We'll get out of the city for a while and go camping up at a nice, quiet lake."

"...Camping?"

"Yeah. We both need a vacation before it gets too hot to enjoy being outside, but right now you need it more than I ever could."

"A vacation."

"Right. A way to get away from your problems for a little while and stop thinking."

"...I believe that would be a good decision."

"All right, then it's settled." As he felt Connor drop his arm from his shoulders Hank helped guide the deviant back down over the couch to go back to sleep. Fixing the tangled up blanket that was knotted around Connor's legs Hank draped it back over the deviant and watched as his red L.E.D. shifted back to blue and pulsed in a slower beat as his heart rate calmed. "Try to get some rest and when you're ready we'll head out tomorrow morning. Okay?"

"...O-Okay." Closing his eyes Connor sighed once and reluctantly began his return to rest mode. "Thank you."

"You're welcome, son." A strange feeling of deja vu fell over the senior detective as he looked at Connor's still frightened face. Patting the couch cushion by Connor's legs Hank encouraged Sumo to cuddle up against the deviant one more time and keep him company through the remainder of the night. "You're safe and I'll make sure you stay safe."

Walking quietly around the couch Hank made his way down the hallway and into his bedroom out of sight. Picking up the framed photograph of Cole sitting on the nightstand beside his bed Hank smirked at the sweet innocent face of his late firstborn son and sat down on the edge of his bed.

"When you had your first nightmare you were barely three years old. You were afraid of a shadow living in your closet and we spent the night cuddled up on the couch together watching that same damn movie with the dog in the snowstorm... 'Balto', at least nine times. Nice to know I still have the right touch with dealing with bad dreams."

Putting the photograph back on the nightstand Hank rose from his bed and returned to the livingroom to check in Connor one more time. Even as he rested Connor looked stressed and frightened.

"Poor kid. You're trying so damn hard to escape CyberLife, but every time you get some distance some freak sinks their greedy hooks back into you and pull you down to their level."

Retiring to the recliner for the night Hank kicked his feet up and checked the time on his phone before leaving it on the armrest beside him.

"Never stop being who you are. Don't ever sink to their level and keep holding your head up high."

Closing his eyes Hank did his best to salvage the rest of the night and get some sleep before the sunrise.

"You're a lot stronger than you'll ever know and you're never alone, son. I promise you that you'll never be alone."

-next chapter-