It was just after one in the afternoon when the partial collapse of an old concrete parking garage downtown had been linked to anti-android gang activity. The gangs had been reported as building pipe bombs inside the structure for future use at other places to act as domestic terrorists throughout Detroit. One of the stored bombs detonated prematurely from where it had been hidden, trapping several innocent people inside their cars beneath the heavy, crushing weight of the now compromised concrete structure after it collapsed overhead. A rescue was immediately underway in an attempt to save those who were buried in the collapse, but the odds of finding any survivors were unnervingly bleak due to the sheer size of the structure and the amount of crushing debris.

Due to complete chance and proximity, Connor and Hank had been only two blocks away from the garage when the bomb went off allowing them to arrive at the scene first to try to aid the victims trapped inside the ruined garage. Their hopes weren't high, but they were determined to do everything they could to try to help as many innocent people as possible.

"Find anything, kid?" Hank asked as he waved a cloud of dust from his face while he and Connor carefully traversed the crumbling structure in search of survivors. The thick concrete had been disturbed by the blast and were keeping the remnants of the garage at an icy cold temperature despite the lingering summer heat. "Anything at all?"

"I can detect four people in total trapped in the destroyed portions of the garage." The deviant detective confirmed as his L.E.D. cycled yellow steadily. "There are nine other people currently attempting to evacuate through the undamaged sections further down to get to safety."

"Where's the nearest victim?"

"One moment..." Homing in on the closest trace of human vital signs, Connor pointed to a partially collapsed pillar of concrete that was pressing down against the hood and windshield of a small red car only a few yards away. "There."

The two detectives swiftly rushed over together to the small car as Connor directed and peered inside the damaged pinned vehicle through the driver's side broken window. There was one woman inside the car, she was unconscious and looked to be approximately seven months pregnant.

"Hank?"

"Shit, I see her. We need to get her out of there." Moving quickly Hank grabbed onto the driver's door handle and tried to pull the jammed door open, but it was stuck tight. "Damn it! Door won't budge."

Connor stepped up and grabbed onto the door handle and began pulling at a steady clip until the locking mechanism on the door creaked loudly before snapping away as the hinges on the door finally gave way. Opening the door as wide as it could go in the limited space, he took a step back and let Hank get down by the door next to the victim to check on her condition.

"Whoa... Good work." Hank knelt down beside the woman through the opened door and checked her pulse, finding it slow but strong. Unclipping her seatbelt Hank gently put his hand atop of her belly and felt gentle kicks from the still active baby and he immediately felt more at ease. "They're both still alive. Thank fuck."

Outside a chorus of sirens filled the street with a high-pitched ambience as emergency vehicles converged on the sight to aid the victims just as Hank and Connor had done no more than two minutes prior. The garage itself began to groan and clouds of dust wafted down from massive cracks in the concrete structure above as the rest of the garage threatened to collapse in on itself at any moment. With the lights of the circling drones shining onto the carnage the smoky dust appeared thicker than it actually was.

Connor's blue L.E.D. flashed to yellow and then to red as he noted the overall weakened structural integrity of the garage and estimated a small window of time before a second collapse destroyed what was left of the garage.

"We need to move fast." The attentive deviant cautioned. "We have four minutes and twenty-two seconds before-"

"I know, kid. We'll move out of here as quickly as we can." The damaged car was an autonomous vehicle without a steering column to get in the way, but the weight of the pillar had crushed the car partially inward making it difficult to access the interior normally. "Can you get her out of here?"

"I believe so." Quickly Connor took Hank's place as he knelt down beside the woman and slipped his arms under her legs and around her shoulders. Moving as slowly as he dared Connor lifted her out of the car and stood upright while holding the pregnant woman in a careful grip against his chest. The woman's head rested against Connor's shoulder as she remained unconscious, unaware of the two detectives who were working to save her and the life of her unborn child. "She's stable and can be moved."

"Good. We need to get out-" A plea for help from an unseen location just a few feet away drew the two detectives' attention elsewhere. Connor noted the exact location of the trapped person and tried to take a step forward to assist when Hank stopped him short. "Take care of her first." The senior detective insisted as he motioned to the woman already Connor's arms. "Go."

"But the other person-"

"I'll get him. Go on, you need to move it."

"They're trapped under a minimum of eighty-two tons of-"

"Yeah, I know! Look," Hank pointed to the single clear exit of the garage from whence they entered as he backed away from the deviant and toward the second victim in need of help. "I don't have the strength to carry her out of here without accidentally hurting her in the process. You can. Go. I'll be right behind you."

"It's unwise to-"

"Connor, go!" Raising his voice a little Hank used his authority over the lower ranking detective to coax the deviant into moving. "That's an order, damn it!"

Squaring his jaw in silent protest Connor only nodded as he proceeded to turn around and carry the pregnant woman out of the garage and to safety while Hank went in search of the trapped man still calling out for help. Moving with unparalleled grace and even strides Connor made it to the entrance of the garage in less than a minute without jostling the woman in his arms and proceeded to carry her over to an ambulance that had arrived at the scene just seconds after the fire department.

"She's unconscious." Connor stated as he climbed into the back of the opened ambulance doors and gently placed the woman down on the gurney inside. The two paramedics in the back of the ambulance quickly began assessing her condition as well as the unborn baby as Connor jumped down from the ambulance to resume the rescue operation. "There are at least three other-"

A thunderous 'crash' that shook the entire block resonated from within the depths of the parking garage as the structure finally failed entirely and collapsed in on itself with a cascade of concrete, metal supports and hundreds of destroyed vehicles within the confines of the garage. A pale gray plume of dust and smoke filled the air creating a dense, choking fog that obstructed the sight and rescue efforts of the firefighters who had been working to stabilize and clear away the crumbled concrete in search of the other victims.

Connor raised an arm to shield his face from the dusty smoke as he ran a cybernetic scan over the garage but failed to locate any discernible vital signs within the structure. There was nothing his scanner could do to penetrate the suddenly dense layer of concrete and steel, at least he hoped that was why he couldn't detect any vital signs within the crumbling ruins of the destroyed garage.

"...Hank?"

With his L.E.D. still flickering red in distress Connor looked around for any sign of the senior detective outside of the ruins, but he saw no one familiar. Rushing through the smoke, his superior android vision allowing him to see what other humans cannot, Connor returned to the now collapsed entryway of the garage that had been the only way in or out. There was no one around and it seemed like no one was still alive.

"Hank?!"

Grabbing on to the large slabs of concrete that smothered the single entry point, Connor began clearing it out by one massive chunk of debris at a time. Desperate to locate his missing partner and adoptive father Connor began to dig through the collapsed, heavy remains of the garage in search of the missing senior detective and could only hope that he was fast enough to locate Hank and any other survivors before it was too late for them to be saved.

All androids had superior strength compared to that of humans, but it didn't mean their strength was limitless or inexhaustible. As Connor worked to lift away the massive portions of crushing concrete or push aside the pieces that were too heavy to be lifted, he made steady but slow progress in clearing the garage as he searched for Hank and the other survivors.

Firefighters soon joined Connor in sifting through the concrete and metal support beams as quickly as possible all while nearby construction crews arrived at the scene with their heavy equipment to aid in the search effort voluntarily. What had once been a barren location was suddenly overwhelmed with rescue personnel and volunteers who had gotten word of the collapse and had come to the rescue.

"Hank?!"

Connor called out loudly as he dug through the concrete, his L.E.D. blinking red rapidly as he continuously ran scan after scan in search of the missing senior detective. The sheer depth and mass of the concrete and metal was too much for even Connor's advanced system to penetrate leaving him as lost as the humans trapped within the crushing labyrinthine.

"Please answer me! Hank? Where are you?!"

There was no sign of life within the crushing ruins of the destroyed garage. It seemed as though absolutely no one could survive such a horrible collapse.

"Please, Hank..."

Begging in a desperate, pleading whisper Connor slowly clawed his way deeper and deeper into the ruined garage alongside the firefighters and construction workers.

"Please be okay. I need you to be okay!"

Six long hours passed with only modest progress being achieved in searching for the survivors. Despite clearing almost a full ton of concrete from the entrance and from within the ground floor interior of the ruined parking garage, the rescue personnel were no closer to finding any trapped survivors than they had been after the second collapse that ended up trapping Hank as well. The sun was beginning to set, and it was getting dark fast and starting to get cool. As large spotlights were set up around the perimeter of the garage the first responding firefighters were dismissed for the day to get some rest as other teams of firefighters relieved them of duty and continued where they left off.

Pausing momentarily to catch his breath and dismiss warnings in his visual processors about imminent overheating, Connor tried again to run a scan, but the concrete was still too abundantly thick to get any form of reading. There was no sign of life beneath any of the rubble. Even so, Connor wasn't going to give up until he finally found Hank and knew what had befallen him.

"Damn it..."

With his fingertips and palms dripping Thirium from the fresh cuts and scrapes that had destroyed the artificial skin over his hands Connor refused to stop digging. The deviant found himself panting heavily as his ventilation biocomponents struggled to keep up with his exhausting pace and keep his core temperature from rising too high. If the deviant overheated, then he'd be unable to continue the search without collapsing himself. And yet that threat wasn't enough to deter Connor from continuing his search.

"You said you'd be right behind me. Why weren't you there?"

Connor whispered to himself sounding less like a confident detective and more like a lost child. Forcing himself to continue digging with his bloodied, trembling hands the shaken deviant was losing strength fast but refused to quit.

"I'll find you. I promise that I'll find you."

Captain Fowler arrived at the scene at long last after having been asked to speak to the media in regard to the collapse and had promptly located the deviant detective digging busily through the concrete alongside the firefighters. The eerie red glow courtesy of Connor's L.E.D. shining through the darkness was like a strange beacon of hope as Connor ceaselessly dug through the concrete without uttering a single complain of fatigue or distress, despite the red tine of the L.E.D. indicating otherwise.

"Connor?" Captain Fowler carefully stepped up the concrete mess and put his hand on the deviant's shoulder. "You should take a break."

"No! Not until after I find Hank." Connor unhesitatingly refused his Captain as he continued to pull up concrete and toss it aside. "I won't leave him behind."

"Don't make me order you to stand down." Captain Fowler warned as he put his hands on his hips and steadily raised his voice. "It's for your own good."

"I'm not tired, Captain."

"Is that why you're on the verge of gasping for breath and covered in your own blood?" The seasoned Captain challenged without hesitation. He didn't need to use any of skills as a detective to see that Connor was in distress and in need of some rest. "Because you're still so full of energy and not denying any exhaustion? Don't even try to pull one over on me."

"I can withstand the physical exertion better than any human can."

"But that doesn't make you invulnerable to exhaustion. Everyone has their limits, including you."

"No!"

"Damn it, Connor. You're my detective and I expect you to follow my orders just like any other member of my precinct." Returning his grip to Connor's shoulder Captain Fowler tried and failed to pull Connor away from the massive pile of debris. It was as if Connor had managed to cement his shoes to the very ground where he stood out of raw determination. "STAND. DOWN. That's an order!"

Connor visibly tensed up as the order was shouted over the sound of the heavy construction equipment, but he refused to stop digging. Without breaking his pace or blinking Connor continued to dig and throw aside slabs of concrete to be carted away by the volunteering construction crews.

"CONNOR." Repeating himself with authority in his tone Captain Fowler demanded that Connor obey. "THAT WAS AN ORDER."

"Hank ordered me out of the garage. Look what happened." Connor snapped back with a surprising venom toward his commanding officer as he continued to dig through the concrete. "I'm done taking orders for tonight..."

Letting go of Connor's shoulder Captain Fowler decided on a new approach to the situation as the deviant was as stubborn as he was loyal. Walking up to the deviant's side Captain Fowler took hold of Connor's arm firmly and held it in place to keep him from digging for a moment.

"All right then, I won't talk to you like I'm your Captain, I'll talk to you like I'm your friend instead."

Connor's head slowly turned to look at Captain Fowler as he held a massive chunk of jagged concrete in his free hand. The red flashing L.E.D. illuminated Captain Fowler's face in the darkness under a crimson hue as the deviant looked his commanding officer in the eye.

"Working yourself into exhaustion isn't going to help Hank or anyone else trapped inside the garage. I know you care about Hank and I'm glad you two are like family, but family or not, I can't stand by and let one of my friends worry themselves to death because of another friend. Go get some rest, I'll stay here and help with the dig. If-" Captain Fowler paused to correct himself before continuing. "WHEN we find Hank, I'll call you immediately."

"I don't want to leave him alone." Lowering his voice as if afraid Connor confessed that he had a secondary fear regarding Hank's fate that he was attempting to work through. "I know what it's like to be... buried alive. It's terrifying. No one should ever experience such a horrendous scenario."

It was Captain Fowler's turn to tense up as he realized that the fear Connor had for Hank's life was beyond just personal injury, it was from previous emotional trauma from his own near-death experience.

"Connor, we'll-"

"He found me after I had been buried alive." Connor interrupted with emphasis as he tossed aside the jagged concrete and picked up another piece of debris from the ever gradually shrinking pile. "And I will find him, too."

"I know you will." The encouragement in Captain Fowler's voice was as sincere and it was respectful. "But you still need to rest. Eight hours, that's all I ask. Go home and lay down so your system doesn't begin to bug out, or whatever, on you. Then come back here afterward."

"I'm okay, sir. I swear."

"Sorry, no." Shaking his head and letting out a frustrated sigh Captain Fowler moved his hand along the deviant's arm and lifted up Connor's own bloodied hand for the stubborn and exhausted deviant to see. "This is NOT okay. You're going to tear yourself apart, both figuratively and literally, if you don't get some rest."

Connor stared at the blue blood covered plastimetal frame of his hand and flexed his fingers slightly. The artificial skin had been shredded away from his fingertips and palms by the sharp edges of the concrete and jagged metal beams. The harsh and repetitive physical motions had cracked Connor's palms and dented his fingertips in a painful and very obvious manner.

"I... didn't even feel that."

"Yeah, I can tell. There's already a technician standing by." Captain Fowler slowly let go of Connor's hand and motioned to the android unique ambulance pulled up alongside the other four human ambulances down the street. "Go see her and then go home. I promise to call as soon as we find Hank no matter what time it is. You will be the very first person I'll call."

Hesitatingly Connor dropped his hands to his sides and looked at the ambulance in the distance. It felt like an act of betrayal to leave Hank behind to heal all over some damaged skin and a little lost Thirium.

"I'll drop it from eight hours to six." Trying to negotiate a little Captain Fowler urged the deviant to take a break. "Just six hours, that's all I'll ask of you."

Scared for Hank, feeling alone, and undeniably exhausted, Connor finally relented and stepped away from the debris pile for the first time since the second collapse.

"...Okay, sir. I will return after I've rested for six hours."

As he walked on shaking legs from the ruined garage with a heavy defeated heart Connor was promptly met by the technician at the scene who pulled him aside gently by the arm to guide him to the bumper of the ambulance to sit down. Every available first responder was volunteering their time and skills to assist at the scene of the collapse, including technicians.

"Connor?" Abby was in fact the technician who had volunteered to help at the scene and was shocked by Connor's appearance. Her past experience and knowledge as an E.M.S. proved to be invaluable at the scene of the collapse if there was any additional destruction to the garage harming both humans and androids. "Let me see your hands."

Slowly Connor held out his shaking hands, palms down, for Abby to see as he gazed past her and to the concrete pile illuminated under the artificial construction lights. With purple latex gloved hands Abby gently examined the backs of Connor's hands before she then gently turned them over to check his palms and fingertips for any internal structural damage to his plastimetal frame. The damage would be from the result of the physical pressure that had been applying consistently to the appendages over the past six or so hours.

"I'll clean and bandage these up." Holding Connor's hands in a gentle grip Abby asked the deviant about his current condition. "Are you in any pain?"

There was a pause before the tired deviant answered in a low and despondent tone. "...No."

"Since it's you, my most stubborn patient, I'm going to go ahead and assume that you really mean 'yes', but you don't want to complain." Abby proceeded to clean up Connor's hands with a clean cloth until the old blood had been removed from his injured hands. Pouring the orange incrassation compound over Connor's palms, fingers, and over the back of his hands she disinfected the small fractures to the frame that had caused the bleeding while also stemming the residual bleeding at the same time. "I'm going to wrap up your hands in protective gauze until you have the energy to regenerate your artificial skin."

Connor didn't reply to the comment as he stared at the collapsed garage only a few painful yards away.

"Hank will be okay." Abby tried to soothe kindly as she wrapped gauze around Connor's exposed hands carefully, allowing his fingers to move about freely from one another rather than being bound together. She held his hands in her own for a moment longer as she tried to read the deviant's mind and find a way to help ease his needlessly guilt-riddled thoughts. "I know better than to tell you not to worry, so I won't bother, but you should really lay down and get some rest before you collapse, too."

"I'm okay." Connor insisted stubbornly as he continued to watch the dig from the distance. "I can keep working."

"No, you're not okay." As she spoke, Abby's fingers gently pressed against the side of the deviant's wrist to check his vitals. "Your pulse is racing, I can feel that your core temperature has risen to a near critical degree, your Thirium pressure is palpable even without a cuff around your arm, AND you've been physically exerting yourself for over twelve consecutive hours. You're exhausted!"

"...I'm fine."

"If you let yourself collapse, then how will you be able to help Hank?"

Finally looking away from the digging Connor locked eyes with the kindhearted technician trying to be the voice of reason while Connor himself stubbornly tried to remain unreasonable. He hated feeling useless and so weak.

"There's no shame in needing to take a moment to rest." The seemingly perpetual red L.E.D. in Connor's temple was proof enough of that as Abby continued to assess his condition. "You're not indestructible."

"I can't just walk away."

"You're not walking away. You're taking a break!" Emphasizing that Connor wasn't giving up or abandoning Hank, Abby tried to get the deviant to get some rest and take a moment to heal. "It's okay to rest."

Still unwilling to just leave without a fight Connor turned away from Abby as he tried to swallow his misplaced guilt.

"Hey?" Putting her hand to the side of Connor's face Abby turned his head until he was looking her in the eyes once more. "I remember what happened to you a few months ago. About how you were taken for ransom and left for dead..."

Connor swallowed nervously a second time as the fear of being buried alive ironically resurfaced.

"You're not leaving Hank for dead. No one is. We're going to find him."

Letting out a stifled sob Connor bowed his head fought back the urge to cry as his own personal fears were beginning to affect his judgement. It only took him a moment to recompose himself and keep his frustration inside.

"I... I know."

"Go on." Abby insisted kindly as she lowered her hand from his face and motioned for the deviant to walk down the street and away from the horrible scene of the collapse. "Take an autonomous taxi and go home."

"I don't want to go home."

"Look behind me."

Connor's head lifted up as his brow arched in confusion at her request.

"Go ahead, look."

Peering again at the dig site Connor watched as firefighters, police officers and construction workers; half of the construction crew human and the other half deviants, working together to sift through the concrete of the collapsed garage together. Had the scene not been so tragic the sight of the humans and deviants working alongside each other would've been beautiful.

"Every one of the people digging through the debris is looking for Hank and the other survivors." Abby stated confidently. "He WILL be found."

Without uttering a word Connor turned his head again as he stood up from the bumper of the ambulance and slowly ambled down the sidewalk to reach the Oldsmobile parked at the end of the block. It felt wrong to leave the scene of the accident without Hank at his side, but Connor knew that despite his protests that he'd be barred from assisting in the search and sitting on the sidelines while other people worked their asses off wasn't something he was prepared to do.

Pulling open the driver's side door of the car Connor shook his head as he looked at the keys that Hank had accidentally left in the ignition during his haste to get to the garage and begin helping people the people in need. In a way Connor took it as a sign that it was okay to leave the scene rather than be forced to dig until his entire being succumbed to overheating and fatigue.

"...Forgive me for leaving, Hank."

Pulling open the driver's side door with his bandaged hand Connor sat down behind the steering wheel and turned the key in the ignition. The engine of the car roared to life and yet the vehicle felt painfully quiet in Hank's absence.

"I'll be back to find you and bring you home soon."

Returning home begrudgingly, his hands throbbing as much as his own guilt-laden heart, Connor pulled the car into the driveway beside the house and turned off the engine. Sitting behind the wheel for a few seconds Connor looked up and the empty house with a heavy heart. Feeling useless and almost cowardly, Connor opened the door to the car and slowly stepped outside of the vehicle with a sullen presence. The air felt icy cold now that the sun had set, but Connor feared a looming rainstorm could only hinder the rescue efforts ensuring Hank's demise, if not the deaths of the other people still trapped inside the collapsed garage. The very idea of a heavy rain filling the garage and drowning the trapped people within was enough to make Connor feel sick.

As the emotionally distraught deviant entered the house through the front door, alone, he looked to Sumo who trotted toward him happily and practically fell to his knees on the livingroom floor as he wrapped his arms around the massive furry companion. Rubbing one hand along Sumo's back for a few grateful pets then moving his hand up to his ears, Connor felt the Saint Bernard press his cold wet nose against the side of his face affectionately and whimper.

"...I'm sorry, Sumo. Hank isn't here right now."

Burying his face in the dog's warm fur Connor let out sigh that was choked by a single sob as the deviant truly felt alone for the first time in his life. Without Hank - without even knowing if Hank was alive or dead - and having Markus too busy at the tower to step away, made Connor feel completely isolated in the expansive city.

"I'll bring him back home as soon as I can."

Connor whispered, whether it was to himself or actually to Sumo, even he couldn't be sure.

"I know I will. We just can't give up on home."

Unable to enter his own bedroom out of fear of being alone Connor resorted to sleeping on the couch in the livingroom for the night. Laying down on the long piece of furniture with the car keys clutched tightly in his bandaged left hand, he shut his eyes and fell into a restless light rest mode on his side. Sumo joined Connor and laid down on the floor between the couch and the coffee table to keep the worried deviant company for the remainder of the chilly quiet night.

Connor's hand lowered down and came to a rest on Sumo's back, needing to feel like he wasn't alone as he stayed in the house as he had been ordered by Captain Fowler. For the first time in his life, the house felt like a prison and not a home.

"...Good boy, Sumo. Tomorrow Hank will be found, and he'll finally come home."

Six lonely hours had passed by slowly and quickly at the same time. Connor had fallen asleep and set an internal alarm to awaken him at exactly six hours after returning home as he had been ordered. It was an absolute struggle to remain asleep as his preconstruction software seemed to meld with his dream programming and created horrid nightmares of finding Hank's dead body mangled in bloody and unrecognizable forms filled his mind. Every few minutes Connor would awaken with a start, remember where he was, what had happened, and told himself to breathe through his fears and paranoia so that he could continue to rest as much as possible before returning to the scene.

Bolting upright on the couch as soon as his internal clock indicated the designated minimum rest time of six hours had completed, Connor hastily set about his morning routine as quickly as possible. Letting Sumo outside while he filled the dog's bowls with food and water Connor checked his system just to see if he somehow missed a call or text from Captain Fowler.

"Hank? Please, tell me something about him..."

There were no messages left behind. No one had tried to contact him.

"Damn it."

Grabbing hold of the gauze bandages wrapped around his hands with his teeth Connor pulled the gauze loose and slowly unwound the white material from around his hands, freeing his appendages and digits in the process. Flexing his sore but otherwise fully healed hands a few times and went to check on Sumo out in the backyard.

"Inside boy! Come on! You need to hurry!"

Obediently the large dog returned to the kitchen through the wide open backdoor and proceeded to check out his refilled bowls while Connor exited the house through the front door and made his way back to the car quickly. The Saint Bernard had no idea what was happening or why Connor was so tense.

Cybernetically Connor updated himself on the situation at the garage collapse and noted that no other survivors had been located during the night; but a group of suspects had been brought in to custody for interrogation. Unwilling to chance himself having a violent reaction to the arrested suspects Connor skipped over reporting in at the precinct entirely and drove straight to the sight of the collapsed garage instead.

"I'm coming back for you, Hank. This time I won't leave without you."

A mass of journalists and news camera had encircled the scene of the rescue operation like vultures eager to pick over the carcasses of those who met their demise in the collapse itself. Numerous additional rescue personnel had converged on the scene during the night to aid in the rescue as the dipping winter temperatures presented additional risk to the health and wellbeing of those who were trapped and awaiting rescue. Three additional ambulances had also been called to the scene while the construction crew and their donated equipment seemingly doubled in size as every able-bodied human and deviant worked together in an attempt to unbury the survivors as quickly, efficiently, and as calmly as possible.

Parking the car just down the street from where it had been the night before, Connor slammed the car door shut, locked it, and pocketed the car keys as he jogged back to the crumbling ruins of the concrete pile. Ever attentive to his surroundings Connor ran a cybernetic scan over the collapsed concrete structure and found that a depth of nearly eighteen feet of the concrete debris had been cleared away in the past six hours. With a great mass of the obstructive layer now removed Connor's ability to cybernetically and biometrically scan the ruins had been enhanced and he could now detect faint life signs still buried deep inside.

There was a detectable heartbeat not too far away from the entrance of the garage where Connor had last seen Hank.

"Hank?"

Rushing over to the nearby sign of life Connor began to dig frantically, his yellow tinted L.E.D. flickering rapidly in synchronization with his racing heart as he clawed through the concrete rubble like a rabid hound.

"Over here! I found someone!"

Shouting to the nearby personnel without taking his eyes from his task or slowing his pace Connor hefted another large slab of debris out of the way and the side.

"Someone's down here! I need assistance!"

A mass of firefighters and construction workers joined Connor at the designated place of interest and began helping the deviant as he dug through the debris at a rapid clip. Within a matter of seconds, the working team managed to locate the single person trapped inside a partially crushed car, his face bloodied and pale from hypothermia and hypovolemic shock.

"...It's not Hank."

Connor sighed with a mixture of defeat for not finding his friend but relief in knowing he did find someone alive.

"The man is weak, but he is still alive. Be mindful of his neck."

Backing away from the uncovered man Connor gave the firefighters additional room to work while he began digging through the pile in the direction of the second nearest life sign that his biometric scanner almost immediately detected. As his hands tore into the jagged rubble of the ruined garage a second pair of hands joined him at his right side and briefly drew the deviant's attention elsewhere.

"Somehow I knew you'd be back here as soon as the six hours were up." Captain Fowler commented as he helped Connor to dig. "Truth be told, I'm glad."

"As am I." Connor nodded in silent respect as he resumed his dig and kept his scanner honed in on the tauntingly close life sign. "There is someone eight feet, two inches down. By the time we uncover them the firefighters should have the previously uncovered victim extracted from their vehicle."

"Don't lose faith just yet. We'll find Hank."

"...In time?"

Captain Fowler paused for only a second as his eyes darted away anxiously. Steeling himself the devoted Captain helped Connor pick up and slide away another massive portion of the heavy concrete. After digging for almost two hours a muffled cry from help began to resonate through the gradually thinning wall of debris and caught both Connor and Captain Fowler's ear.

"I hear someone." Connor knelt down and began to dig faster while Captain Fowler waved over additional help. "Wait..." The deviant paused for a moment as he focused on the sound again. "There's two people. Can you hear a voice as well?"

"Yeah, I heard it, too." Stepping away Captain Fowler watched as the firefighters pierced the shrinking concrete with a sharp strong crowbar and created a small opening to allow fresh air to get through the debris. "Help is on the way! Remain calm, we'll find you."

Connor put his hands down into the newly created opening and lifted up the layer of concrete with horrifying ease, widening the hole at a steady pace. As the concrete was lifted away the firefighters guided the impressively large portion of debris away from the hole to prevent it from falling back or accidentally causing harm to the trapped person or Connor in the process.

A man's hoarse voice coughed and called out for help and was immediately aided by the firefighters who peered down inside the hole to where the man had been trapped. A massive cut was running down the side of his face and his right arm was broken in a visible and painful manner. Laying across his lap was a young woman, unconscious, and being held tight by his good hand.

"Pl-Please!" The man shouted and coughed again from the depths of the ruined garage and mangled car. "My wife! She's hurt!"

Connor stepped away to clear the opening as his scanner detected a newly revealed life sign just a few more feet away from the couple. It was faint, feeble, and barely registered on his advanced programming. Unsure of it was Hank or not, Connor just stayed put and waited for the man and his wife to be rescued before moving forward.

"There's someone else with us!" The man shouted as the firefighters carefully lifted his wife out of his arms and then helped him climb out of the hole to freedom at long last. "He's... H-He's hurt, too! He helped me. Now he's... he's trapped!"

Hearing that information made Connor's brow furrow as an instinctive hunch settled in over his mind. "The man who helped you, did you by chance get his name?"

"N-No. No name." The man admitted as he coughed weakly and leaned on the firefighters' arms heavily as they supported him. "He just... He just helped me."

"What did he look like?"

"Uh..." Struggling to remember the details the man gave Connor a description of the other man who helped him. "White guy, looked late forties of early fifties, gray hair, beard-"

"Was he wearing a colorful shirt?" Connor interrupted impatiently as he needed to know for sure. "A bright orange and sky blue button-down?"

"Y-Yeah." The man confirmed as the firefighters escorted him away from the ruined garage. "I think so."

"Hank?!"

Connor shouted as he dropped down into the newly opened hole and looked about the labyrinthine ruins of the garage as a chorus of firefighters above and Captain Fowler himself yelled down at Connor to get back to the surface. Ignoring the voices above Connor followed his scanner to the feeble life sign he had detected only a few moments before as he called out for his missing partner, best friend and adopted father.

"Hank? Can you hear me?"

There was no answer beyond that of dissolving concrete crumbling from every crevice and fracture like sand in an hourglass. The darkness of the ruined garage was as thick as it was ominous, and the walls felt like they were closing in around Connor.

Flashes of being trapped, being buried alive, appeared before his eyes as he took in the decrepit sight all around him.

Closing his eyes tightly Connor could feel and hearing his heart thundering in his chest as a claustrophobic panic began to settle in. Putting a sore hand to his chest Connor tried to will his heart to stop pounding as he took in a deep breath and forced his eyes to open back up. Taking one slow step forward Connor pushed through his fear. He faced his lingering phobia as he focused more on Hank's wellbeing rather than his own.

"Hank! Please answer me!"

Connor pleaded as he carefully maneuvered through the narrow passages forged by the uneven slabs of concrete and steel support beams intersecting into one another at sharp angles.

"I know I'm close, I just need you to help guide me!"

Mindful of his every step and his strength as to not disturb the strong yet delicate foundation that had once been the garage, Connor snaked his way deeper and deeper inside as he trailed the life sign to a small pit wedged open by two crushed cars. The cars were supporting the immense weight of a single concrete slab keeping the garage from collapsing inward entirely, but the cars were slowly being crushed down and wouldn't hold out much longer.

Among the wrecked cars in the darkness Connor was able to detect and recognize something that wasn't metallic or made of concrete. It was something organic and had a humanoid shape.

In fact, it was a person.

"Hank?!"

A motionless, pale human hand was resting palm down from an outstretched arm between the two cars. While the hand was covered in dried red blood, the attached arm was covered by the fabric of a familiar colorful dress shirt sleeve. The sight was enough to cause Connor's presently yellow L.E.D. to flash to red as a heart stopping fear swept over him in an instant.

"Hank..."

Connor rushed over to the hand and knelt down with a painful crash to his knees on the uneven terrain as he grabbed onto the cold hand and wrapped his fingers around the wrist to locate a pulse. It was still there; weak, thready and barely palpable, but there all the same.

Unconscious and freezing, Hank was lying face down on the concrete floor between the wrecked bodies of two mangled cars.

"Hank!"

Running his hand up the arm Connor located Hank's shoulder and traced his other hand over to find the downed senior detective's neck. Checking for any cervical damage to Hank's neck, fortunately finding none, he then slipped his hand down the length of Hank's back to check the rest of his spine. There was no spinal injury to be found.

"Dad... Can you hear me?"

Slipping one hand under Hank's chest and the other hand against the middle of the unconscious detective's back, Connor was able to slowly but surely turn Hank from his stomach and onto his side before turning him over entirely onto his back. Using careful strength Connor wrapped his arms around Hank's chest under his arms from behind and slowly drug Hank out from between the two cars and away from the crushing concrete into a relatively opened space in the ruins of the garage.

Hank's right leg was covered in blood, his jeans torn open from the top of the knee down to his ankle in a jagged fraying manner. There was a partially visible white protrusion from the middle of Hank's leg that was evidently from his broken tibia piercing through his skin.

Instinctively Connor pressed his hand down against Hank's cold chest and felt the senior detective's heart shuddering weakly under his palm as he took in shallow breaths. Aside from a painfully swollen black eye keeping his left eye shut and bruised, Hank's face was an unsettling gray hue from the cold and apparent massive blood loss. Connor's scanner noted that Hank had a dangerously low blood pressure from his injuries and would require immediate medical attention.

The bleeding from the compound fracture of the leg had long since stopped due to the cold of the concrete surrounding him and Hank's lack of physical motion for an extended period of time, yet he was still showing signs of severe internal bleeding and had slipped into hypovolemic shock. The man was in critical condition.

Running a biometric scan Connor detected an alarming concentration of blood collecting in Hank's abdomen. Using gentle motion Connor pulled open the brightly colored dress shirt he seemed to favor, before lifting up the faded black t-shirt beneath by the hem. Exposing Hank's abdomen Connor could see that the detective's stomach was slightly discolored and distended from internal hemorrhaging.

A gentle palm to the senior detective's abdomen caused Hank's body to reflexively jerk in pain but Hank himself remained unconscious.

"Hank, no..."

Laying Hank down on the dirty floor Connor collected his thoughts and set about providing as much first aid as he could. Connor knelt beside Hank and slipped his black tie away from his own neck and used it to create a temporary splint around Hank's broken, exposed leg. Moving his arms very carefully under Hank's shoulders and under Hank's knees, the deviant carefully lifted the broader built man up from the cold floor to hold in his arms and against his chest.

Though it was a struggle Connor was determined to carry Hank back to the singular opening he had used to enter the garage to get him to safety.

Stepping around the massive protrusions of concrete jutting upward awkwardly from the ruins of the garage that threatened to obstruct his only path to freedom as Hank's life hung in the balance, Connor didn't hesitate to move. Keeping his strides even, smooth and hasty Connor managed to slip back through the unnatural passages and back to the hole from whence he entered.

"Captain!" Connor shouted up through the hole as stepped back into view of the rescue personnel above. "I have Hank! He's in critical condition!"

"Connor?!" Captain Fowler took a knee beside the hole and peered down at Connor's worried face looking back up at him. "What the hell?" Turning away from the hole the commanding officer waved to someone that Connor could not see from where he was standing. "Medic!"

The firefighters who had been tending to the three victims that Connor had previously located had safely escorted them to the paramedics at the awaiting ambulances and were now resuming the dig. Converging around the hole where Captain Fowler was kneeling the trained rescue personnel quickly assessed the situation and knew the most efficient way to rescue Hank without causing any further damage to the already wounded detective.

"It's going to be okay, dad." Connor whispered as he watched the firefighters gather around him and prepare to rescue the dying man. "I won't let you die."

It all happened in slow motion as the firefighters descended into the hole beside Connor and placed the wounded detective into a set of metal stokes for easier extraction and transportation. Once Hank was freed Captain Fowler pulled Connor back out of the hole with a firm hand and ordered the deviant to accompany Hank to the hospital and to then stay there.

A blur of activity hovered over the wounded senior detective as paramedics checked his vital signs and began treatment. Placing Hank's broken leg protectively in a plastimetal splint and placing a c-collar around his neck to keep him as physically stable as possible, the paramedics next placed Hank onto a gurney and lifted him into the back of the ambulance for transport. For them it was just another day on the job, but for Connor it was a tragic day that'd be remembered for all thw wrong reasons.

From where Connor stood just a few feet back he watched as the paramedics tore open Hank's t-shirt and listened to his chest with a stethoscope while attaching the wireless leads to a cardiac monitor to check his heart rate. Someone mentioned Hank's low blood pressure, low body temperature and confirmed internal bleeding sounded off with mild alarm as an oxygen mask was placed over his nose and mouth. But it was the sound of the ambulance doors being slammed shut that seemed deafeningly loud to the worried deviant as he lost sight of Hank again.

"...Please, Hank."

Pulling the car keys from his pocket Connor tightened his grip around the metal object and looked back at the parked car down the street, knowing it was the fastest way to get to the hospital to be with Hank.

"You're strong and can survive this. Please don't die now, we've been through a lot together and you can't give up now."

It was finally over for the two detectives now that the victims of the collapse had been accounted for. It had been seven hours after Hank had been finally rescued from the pile of debris and carried to an ambulance for treatment, and far too many hours since Connor watched from the distance as the paramedics working skillfully to stabilize Hank before transporting him to the hospital, and it had been seven hours since Captain Fowler clamped his hand down on Connor's shoulder as he ordered the stubborn deviant to stand down, and now Connor was finally able to travel to the hospital himself and check in on his best friend. Not only his best friend, but his father.

Arriving at the hospital covered in dust and his own dried Thirium that stained his hands once more, Connor found himself standing in the middle of a busy waiting room as the family and friends of the nine people in total that he had helped locate at the collapsed garage awaited news on the condition of their loved ones. Nine survivors, including Hank, had been pulled from the garage after the second collapse; but tragically fourteen victims weren't so fortunate.

Fourteen lives were lost due to misguided hatred and violence. Families were torn apart irreparably in an instant due to cruelty and location. Friends were left feeling hollow all because angry bigots can't handle the world as it is and want to destroy it just so they can rebuild it in their own twisted fashion; like a macabre phoenix rising from the ashes.

Unable to endure the heavy emotion in the air of the crowded waiting room Connor discreetly kept to himself in the corridor next to the gathered people without saying a word. Obeying an unspoken reflex, Connor reached into his jean pocket and began to fidget with his coin over his raw knuckles, then flipped the coin up to his fingertips to spin it like a top before flipping it back and forth between his hands nervously.

Lost in thought, lost in a depth of emotion he had never experienced before as his overall emotional responses only intensified with each passing day since his deviancy, Connor didn't notice a doctor approaching him with a clipboard in her hands.

"Excuse me? Detective Anderson?"

Connor didn't acknowledge the polite doctor as his coin flipped gracefully between his two palms with a perfect rhythm that only he could feel.

"Detective?"

No response.

"Connor?"

Upon hearing his name Connor's coin suddenly stopped short as he gripped it tightly in his right palm and his soulful brown eyes focused in on the woman now standing before him.

"...Y-Yes. I'm sorry." Bashfully Connor locked eyes with the doctor as he acknowledged her presence. "Did you say something to me?"

"Yes." Extending her hand to greet Connor properly, the doctor introduced herself. She wasn't surprised that he was a little spaced out with worry. "I'm Dr. Michelle McKay, I've been treating Lieutenant Anderson since his arrival."

"Is Hank all right?"

"Come with me." Escorting Connor down the corridor to the recovery rooms in the distance, Dr. McKay began to explain things to Connor calmly and professionally as they walked side by side. "As you already know, Lieutenant Anderson suffered from a compound fracture to his right tibia and some internal bleeding. He also suffered a mild concussion and hypothermia from being exposed to the coldness of the concrete. Due to the blunt force trauma to his abdomen, he had suffered from a splenic rupture, and we had to perform an emergency splenectomy to stop the bleeding."

Connor's L.E.D. cycled red rapidly as the idea of Hank requiring emergency surgery made his own stomach twist into painful knots.

"He tolerated the surgery well," Dr. McKay continued as she showed Connor down the corridor to Hank's recovery room. "but he is in some pain."

"...Is he conscious?"

"Yes. He woke up from the anesthesia about an hour ago and has been stable ever since." Stopping outside of a closed door, Dr. McKay turned to look at Connor with a faint yet reassuring smile. "He'll need to remain in the hospital for the next two days for observation."

The worried deviant watched as Dr. McKay pushed open the door slowly and quietly by the electronic panel beside the door.

"You can see him for a few minutes, but he's very weak and won't be able to speak for very long."

Nodding quietly Connor swallowed once nervously and fought the urge to retrieve his coin again as he stepped into the recovery room. Connor felt a tremendous weight lift from his shoulders as he was shown into the private recovery room where Hank was laying with his right leg partially propped up and completely enveloped in a thick, sturdy cast.

An I.V. was connected to the back of Hank's left hand to feed him fluids and antibiotics. A nasal canula was resting under his nose and a muted cardiac monitor was recording his heart rate and blood pressure. A large bandage over Hank's left eye, which was still swollen shut from the harsh blow he had suffered during the collapse, and a few spattering of bruises over the senior detective's body was the direct result of being trapped for almost fifteen hours. His complexion wasn't a deathly gray anymore, but he was still very pale.

Hank was free of the collapse. Conscious, breathing, alive...

"Hank." Connor repeated, his voice somewhat louder but still shaking as he entered the room and stood beside the bed. "You're... You're still alive."

"...Yeah. I'm still here." Hank grinned as he turned his head toward Connor and patted the cast over his broken leg with a surprisingly casual manner. He then wrapped his arm protectively around his healing abdomen where the surgical incision was still rather raw. "It'll take a lot more than-"

Connor suddenly wrapped his arms around Hank and hugged him so tightly that Hank couldn't speak anymore and only grunted in pain. Patting his hand lightly along Connor's back Hank tried to calm down the shaken deviant.

"C-Connor! I'm okay, son. You can let go... Please."

Trembling and on the verge of tears Connor slowly let go of Hank and pressed his palms down against the side of the bed and hung his head low as he tried to regain his composure. "S-Sorry!"

"Look at me." Hank slowly waved his palm in front of the deviant's face to try to get his attention. "I'm okay. I'm right here. I hurt like hell," he needlessly admitted as his body language and fight to remain alert made that plain to see. "but I'm still alive."

"You were buried!" Connor nearly blurted as he projected his own residual fears onto Hank. As soon as the words left his mouth the deviant realized his error and tried to correct himself, but that just resulted in Connor hyperventilating stumbling over his words. "You- Hank, it was like- It was just like-"

"Connor. Take a deep breath." Seeing the fear in Connor's soulful brown eyes Hank's paternal instinct kicked in and did his best to calm the deviant's racing mind. "I know." Empathizing with Connor immensely Hank did his best to make Connor calm down. "I know you thought I had endured the same horror you had when that punk tried to kill you, and I know you had to deal with your fear before you were ready." Moving his hand slowly as to not jostle his own injuries Hank reached out and grabbed onto Connor's shaking forearm to try to steady the frightened deviant as much as possible. "Is that what's bothering you?"

"No!" Connor shook his head a little. "I mean yes!" Unable to focus his thoughts he ran a hand through his hair and bowed his head as if ashamed. "I mean... I don't know! I don't know what's wrong! I'm just... afraid."

"Yeah you do." Keeping a soft, understanding tone of voice Hank remained emotionally calm for the sake of Connor who still had much to learn about feeling emotions and putting them into words. "Like I said: Take a deep breath," Hank reminded him patiently. "and think. It's okay to be upset and it's okay to be afraid. Just take a moment to gather your thoughts."

"I... I thought..." Connor wiped his hand over his emotional eyes as tried to steady his voice enough to speak. "You were gone for almost fifteen hours and then you were- I thought you were... Hank, I was afraid that you were dead."

"Not yet. I'm okay." Hank sighed as he leaned back against his pillow in lingering pain. It was difficult to get comfortable post-op no matter how many times he endured random surgeries. "The doctor said that you were the one who found me. I'm not surprised. Thanks for saving my ass again, son."

"I couldn't just leave you-" Barely able to speak Connor's voice trailed off as guilt welled up inside of him. "I couldn't just- Just..."

"Son?" Sensing that something else was amiss Hank pressed for the deviant to keep talking. "What's wrong?"

"I'm sorry. I would've found you sooner if I had just stayed at the scene!" Tears rolled down Connor's face as he nearly burst from his mounting emotions. "I would've found the other people sooner, too! Maybe those other people would still be alive if I hadn't-"

"Hey, enough of that." Quickly Hank grabbed onto Connor's shoulder in the tightest grip that the weakened detective could muster and didn't let go. "Why'd you leave at all?"

"Captain Fowler ordered me-"

"So, Fowler told you to leave, and you obeyed your superior officer." His reaction was as casual as could be as he tried to get Connor to stop punishing himself for a crime he didn't commit. "Why the fuck are you kicking yourself for doing your job?"

"...I left you behind."

"How many times do I have to remind you that you're not indestructible or expected to work any harder than anyone else? The point is you found me and I'm still here." The words of wisdom spoken directly from the heart was exactly what Connor needed to hear in that moment. "That's all that matters."

"But those other people-"

"Listen to me." As his strength ebbed away Hank's hand began to fall away from Connor's shoulder, but the deviant was quick to grab Hank's arm with his own hand and hold tight. They both needed to feel grounded at the moment. "There was nothing you or anyone else could've done for those other people. I was lucky, plain and simple."

"Luck shouldn't being a deciding factor in life and death."

"Yeah. I know it."

"I don't want to go back home alone. I don't... want to be alone. I don't like to be alone."

"It's okay. You don't have to go anywhere." Sighing weakly Hank gave the deviant a comforting invitation for the night as he leaned back in his bed and tried to fight off sleep for a moment longer. "Stay here and we'll go home together when I'm discharged from the hospital, okay?"

Still trembling and relieved to know that Hank was going to make a full recovery Connor could only nod.

"...Sit down." The sight of dried red and blue blood on Connor's shaking form made Hank uneasy. "You're still tired."

"I'm okay."

"Sit." Hank winced a little as he took in a deep shuddering breath to quell the burning pain in his abdomen. "...Sit down before you fall down."

"Hank?" The deviant saw the pain and was immediately on guard. "Should I ask for the doctor?"

"It's fine." The last thing that Hank wanted to do was give Connor another reason to worry about him. "I've been through worse."

"Yes... I'm aware."

"Connor." Hank sighed slowly and used the 'dad voice' to get his attention. "If you keep blaming yourself for what happened to me; after I TOLD you to leave the garage, then as soon as my leg's better, I'm going to use it to kick your ass."

At first Connor was alarmed but as soon as he saw the mischievous glint in Hank's blue eyes Connor recognized the humor. Giving Hank a somewhat appreciative and amused glance Connor finally relented and his red L.E.D. settled on yellow. Pulling up the nearby chair from against the wall Connor took it over to the side of the bed and sat down.

"I'll stay here and stay still. I promise that I won't move an inch until it's time for you to go home."

"It's about damn time. But I'm not going to let a building drop on my head every time I need you to actually fuckin' listen to me. All right, son?"

"Yes, all right." Smirking again Connor leaned forward in the chair and put his hand down on the back of the senior detective's arm. As long as he was close to his his friend and father then Connor would surely feel better, and his fears would fade away. "Just get well and come home with me as soon as you can. The house isn't the same without you."

-next chapter-