Holding their heads up high Connor and Hank had confidently resumed their usual routine at the precinct after enduring an oddly brutally cold winter full of unexpected circumstances that had pushed the two detectives nearly to their breaking points physically, emotionally and mentally. With the anti-android gang finally disbanded, the gang leader behind bars, and the former gang members now either off the streets or out of the city, the number of deviant cases that the two detectives were assigned had declined to a wonderfully record low number since the peaceful and historic Revolution. There were no further assaults, threats or murders of deviants at the hands of the bigoted and violent humans being reported anywhere in Detroit.

The early Michigan winter had fortunately given way to an early spring and the city was quickly warming up, allowing the people to finally emerge from their homes after the streets mercifully thawed out. As the green life of nature steadily returned to the city in tiny green buds poking through the snow and ice, the reports of violence declined and the city as a whole truly felt much warmer than it ever had been in decades.

Sumo was still lethargic but he was moving around easier as the warmer weather showed mercy on his arthritic joints. Laying down on the floor of the garage atop an old towel, the massive fluffy dog watched his two masters working together on the old Corvette that Hank had purchased. Slowly but surely, the duo was restoring life to the aged vehicle one day at a time. Connor watched Sumo curiously from the corner of his eye as the older dog was behaving less and less like his usual self and he was getting worried for Sumo's health.

"I'm surprised Sumo isn't walking around more now that the cold has dissipated." The deviant noted with a twinge of concern. "Even so, he's always enjoyed the cold and has been acting very lethargic as of late."

"It may be warmer but that doesn't mean he still isn't a little sore. Arthritis never really goes away." Hank rolled out from beneath the raised body of the Corvette with grease smeared on his hands and his face, and a red rag collecting whatever bits of black sludge he wiped off from his palms. "All right, let's see how that works now."

"Right." Connor was already hovering over the newly restored engine in the popped hood of the car ready to check their work. Ever attentive he began running a cybernetic scan of the mechanical components to ensure that the everything in the engine was properly connected, lubricated, capped and compatible. "The oil drain plug appears to be holding properly without any leaks."

"Good. One less thing to worry about." Standing upright Hank leaned backward a little to work out a tight knot in his back and stretch his tired muscles to prevent a cramp from setting in. "When's that new starter supposed to get here?"

"Checking right now." Connor's blue L.E.D. flashed to yellow as he cybernetically sought an update on the incoming package. "It should arrive at six in the evening four days from now."

"Shit, we're on a roll! I hate to stop working for so long because one part is taking its sweet time gettin' here."

"Maybe you can spend that time deciding on the final color."

"Uh-huh, I can tell you right now the car is NOT going to be green!"

"Red would attract unwanted attention."

"No such thing as 'unwanted attention' with a Corvette, son." Hank handed the rag over to Connor whose hands were just as greasy as his own had been, and watched the deviant wipe off his palms in a casual manner. "Get yourself cleaned up. Fowler wants to talk to us about our casework in about an hour."

"Do you think he'll assign us new partners?" The deviant detective asked timidly as he wiped off his hands and tossed the rag on the workbench behind him. "Our division is small and might need further expansion."

"I don't know. I don't think Fowler would risk assigning you with a new partner just yet."

"Because I'm a deviant?"

"Yup. And I don't play well with others." The gruff Lieutenant joked casually as he patted his leg to call Sumo to his side. The dog moved over very slowly and limped after Hank with his tail hanging low with zero energy. "I wouldn't worry too much about it. We're probably just going to get assigned to homicide now that deviant cases are finally cooling off."

Connor nodded in agreement as he passed through the garage door alongside Hank. Patting Sumo's head in the process before walking into the house through the backdoor to change out of his dirty casual clothes and into his uniform, he praised the gentle giant before disappearing back into the house.

"Good boy, Sumo."

Staying just outside the backdoor Hank sighed and looked down at Sumo standing still beside his leg. Pressing his own hand to the back of Sumo's head Hank rubbed at the dog's ears with great affection that elicited a weak wag of the tail in response.

"I know how you feel, boy. I really do."

As the large lovable dog let out a small whimper Hank felt his heart ache a little. It seemed as if Sumo was actually trying to tell him something important, and Hank understood it all too well.

"I swear I won't let you suffer. Even if hurts me and breaks the kid's heart, I'll make sure you don't hurt when it's time for us to say 'goodbye'."

Professionally and diligently Connor sat behind his terminal and chronicled the numerous unsolved homicide case files that he and Hank had been reassigned in the aftermath of the decline in deviant cases. Hank had the 'honor' of painstakingly finishing the transferring of the deviant cases that had previously been the sole responsibility between the two detectives over to archives to be organized and assigned to other officers. Having worked for over two years on the deviant cases had given the duo an impressive caseload to deal with, but more impressively, all but four of the one-hundred and sixteen deviant cases that had come their way had been left unsolved.

Four cold cases were an impressively low number for any division to have, but for one particularly stubborn and dedicated deviant such a number was still high. It was practically guaranteed that in his spare time Connor would continue to assess the cold cases in an attempt to close them once and for all.

"It may seem like a lot to undertake and adapt to right now," Hank stated without looking away from his own terminal screen as he spoke to Connor. "but trust me, homicide is better than narcotics."

"That's a bold claim." Connor retorted as he danced his quarter along his knuckles while arching a brow at Hank's words. "Murder is comparatively better than drugs?"

"Absolutely. You don't have to worry about going undercover in homicide, and you're less likely to get jumped by some cracked out junkie while working a scene." The senior detective sighed a little and rubbed a hand over his already tired eyes as he continued to file his reports. "The only down side is telling loved ones about the deaths that come from the numerous overdoses or suicides when it comes to investigating potential homicides."

The deviant detective nodded a little in agreement with the sentiment and silently continued his own share of the caseload.

"Hey, guys?" Moving quickly Chris walked over to Hank's desk and placed a tablet down for the Lieutenant to view. "There's one more deviant case for you two to handle before you change divisions."

"What's the point in reassigning us if we're still working deviant cases?" Hank righteously asked as he picked up the tablet, read the information then handed it over to Connor to view for himself. "If we're going to be working two divisions then we want twice the pay!"

Inquisitively Connor's L.E.D. flashed from blue to yellow as he read the information and confirmed the address contained in the report. "This is very unusual."

"A deviant suicide does seem really weird." The more seasoned detective agreed as he turned off his terminal and pulled his car keys from his pocket. "What would cause that in deviants?"

"Extreme emotional distress or pain." Connor's yellow L.E.D. briefly flashed to red as he remembered the night of the Revolution where he was forced to escape the icy wasteland of the Zen Garden before CyberLife forced him to kill Markus or turn the gun on himself. Suicide wasn't beyond the scope of possibility for deviants when things became desperate. "Deviants can suffer from self-destructive tendencies - suicidal tendencies - just as easily as humans."

"'Suffer'. Yeah, when you're feeling that desperate to where ending it all seems like the obvious answer, then you know you're really suffering." The senior detective repeated the horrible word to himself only to see the sorrowful stare in Connor's soulful brown eyes. "You okay, kid?"

"Yes." The focused deviant answered quickly as he rose from his chair and forced his L.E.D. to cycle back to blue after reading over the details. "We've just never handled a deviant suicide before. And... it's at my old apartment complex."

"Yeah. I noticed that too." A knot formed in Hank's stomach as he realized the last time Connor had been in the apartment complex was the night Lucas had been murdered. Connor never went back and had shown no interest in ever returning to his old apartment. "Unfortunately, there's a first time for everything, kid."

"I'm aware. We should handle this as soon as possible and finish our report." Slowly Connor rose to his feet and slipped his coin into his pocket to ensure his anxiety of returning to such a bleak location wasn't entirely visible. "A deviant needs our help to ensure their final moments of their life are chronicled properly."

The third floor apartment of the deceased deviant was as perfectly organized and logically laid out as any museum. Living alone and working as a mechanic, the shutdown deviant seemed to live a quiet reserved life without a single misfortune to his name. To see the victim of the suspected suicide kneeling in a puddle of his own blue blood on the floor of his livingroom with a seemingly self-inflicted bullet wound in his right temple and seeing the offending gun clutched weakly in his right hand was eerie to say the least. The appearance of the deviant's death was almost human in nature and completely unsettling to everyone who had entered the apartment to investigate the premature end to that very deviant.

Remaining professional Connor crouched down in front of the shutdown deviant and ran a scan to confirm his identity and the subsequent cause of death. By all account the claim of self-destruction or suicide was in fact accurate. There was little else to believe regarding the deviant's demise beyond what was seemingly the obvious.

"His name was 'Michael'. He was a mechanic at a garage during the weekdays and worked security at parking garages on the weekends. Single gunshot wound to the right temple." Connor noted the damage both externally and internally with a sharp eye as he stared into Michael's very being. "Shutdown was immediate."

Hank strolled about the apartment curiously and looked at the sparse humble possessions that the victim had owned during his lifetime. A few paintings that one would find in the hallways at a hotel covered the walls of the livingroom, there was a single chair and small couch against the far wall, one table in front of the couch, one lamp in the far corner of the livingroom, and the neighboring kitchenette was entirely empty. The bedroom down the hallway had a single bed that looked like it was never used, and the bedroom closet was full of perfectly washed pressed clothes despite working as a mechanic and a security guard.

No photographs of friends, no sign of hobbies or secondary interests, and no sign of a break-in. It was as if no one ever lived in the apartment despite the name on the lease saying otherwise.

"I have no idea what we should be looking for." The senior detective admitted as he rejoined Connor in the livingroom. "Most humans who commit suicide seem the happiest when they 'do the deed', I don't imagine a deviant would behave much differently."

"Agreed." At a loss of where to look next Connor stared at Michael's blank face as if he were trying to solve a puzzle without all of the pieces. As his eyes trailed over the deviant's face Connor noticed something unusual around the victim's throat and took a closer look. "Hank?"

"Yeah?"

"Take a look at this." Connor pulled open the top button of the victim's dark gray button-up shirt to fully expose their neck and throat. "There is a second wound to his person. But it's not self-inflicted or external in origin, it looks internal."

"What the fuck is that?" Crouching down slowly Hank knelt down beside Connor to take a closer look at the damage site. Using his fingers Hank pushed back the shirt material to examine the wound for himself. The grotesque wound and its location prompted Hank to rub his free hand along his own throat empathetically. "It looks like he got burned. Does it run all around his neck?"

"Affirmative." Astutely Connor craned his own neck to examine the wound and chronicled its unusual appearance. "It looks like the burn outlines an internally implanted torque designed to emit a powerful electronic pulse."

"A what?"

"A torque."

"What's a 'torque'?"

"When androids are manufactured- Correction; when androids were manufactured by CyberLife," Connor stood upright from the floor and cybernetically filed the report while asking for an apportionment of the victim to be performed back at the precinct. "a torque, or collar, is used to sustain processor activity while technicians examine biocomponents and programs before the android is fully activated. The torque is wrapped around the neck over top the skin for easy access during testing, then removed when the android is confirmed ready for commercial reproduction release."

"Why would this guy have one of those things implanted under his skin?"

"It's possible the torque had been implanted due to errors in this deviant's processors to keep him functioning properly even after having his design approved. It's arguably similar to a human taking medication to correct physical or mental illnesses until a permanent repair, or 'cure', could be achieved."

"Then why did it hurt him?"

"It could've been an error or equipment failure."

"Would that thing be able to hurt him if it did 'bug' out?"

"It's entirely possible, yes."

"Huh..." Crossing his arms over his chest Hank ran his hand over his bearded chin as an unsettling thought crept in. "Would the pain be enough to cause him to commit suicide?"

"Theoretically... yes." The very idea made Connor reflexively swallow as he became unnerved by the very idea of enduring so much pain that the better alternative was death. "It is possible."

"C'mon, kid." There was still something unusual about the entire situation that was gnawing at the back of Hank's mind. "We should head back to the precinct and file what we can until a technician gets us some more answers."

"Of course." Shaking his head a little Connor's eyes briefly flickered upward toward the ceiling as if he could somehow see his old apartment through the layer above. The very place where his little brother had been murdered and died in his arms. "...I'm eager to leave this place as quickly as possible."

"Yeah." Putting his hand on Connor's shoulder the paternal detective led the deviant out of the apartment and toward the elevator down the corridor. "I don't blame you one bit. Let's get outta' here."

There was very little evidence to work with upon leaving the crime scene, but the detectives were determined to solve the case. Connor and Hank had returned to the precinct and were now patiently awaiting the apportionment results of their apparent suicide victim. Connor had taken the liberty of delving into the victim's personal history and uncovered something very unusual about his past and present behavior; it seemed as though Michael had maintained the same lifestyle he had as both a machine and as a deviant, but only recently had Michael begun to show more individuality and attempted to break away from his original programming as a mechanic and become more of a unique person.

It was as if the now shutdown deviant had been afraid of his deviancy and tried to explore the notion of being his own person recently. It was a shame that his curiosity seemed to had led to his own demise.

"This is interesting." Connor commented out loud from behind his terminal screen. "Our victim had continued to follow his original programming in its entirety despite his deviancy. In the past two days Michael's coworkers confirmed that he had made an attempt to change his routine, and in that time frame Michael began to exhibit signs of an unknown pain along his neck and head."

"You think that collar thing has something to do with his deviancy?"

"I cannot say for certain either way. I need-" The awaited apportionment report popped up on his terminal screen and Connor read over it quickly. "The results on the victim's processors has been filed. It seems Joel's made some very interesting discoveries."

Hank watched silently as Connor confirmed the cause of the victim's shutdown and the isolated abnormalities in the deviant's programming. When enough time had passed Hank finally spoke up with an impatient curiosity.

"Well?" The Lieutenant leaned forward on his desk toward Connor seeking his answer. "Anything useful?"

"Yes." In a heartbeat Connor's L.E.D. blinked from blue to yellow in empathetic distress. "Michael was programmed to work as a mechanic and continued to do so. He was also a prototype."

"Aaaand?"

"Only when Michael attempted to fully deviate from his original programming did the torque malfunction and cause the horrific pain. The torque malfunctioned due to his prototyping, and in the end, it may have been the very cause of his suicide."

"But why was the collar implanted under his skin? Didn't you say that thing could've been used to treat some kind of programming error?"

"Yes, however in this case his programming had no errors to speak of."

"Then why did it malfunction?"

"As I previously stated, he was a prototype. As such he would be analyzed frequently to test his programming and biocomponents." Connor swallowed nervously as his hand reached up to his own throat and neck with a subconscious response. "I am also a prototype. And like Michael, I've continued to utilize my original programming as a detective."

"Oh." Hank's paternal instincts kicked in as he realized that Connor was now afraid of falling victim to the same fate. "Hey, you're going to be okay. Maybe Joel can check and see if that collar thing is around your neck, too. And if it is, he can remove it. Right?"

"That may be true, but there's another serious problem we must address." With his L.E.D. still flickering yellow Connor nodded a little but his worry didn't fade. "I'm not the only prototype in the city." With utter fear in his soulful brown eyes Connor became righteously worried for his friend and leader of the deviants. "Markus is one as well."

"Okay." Remaining calm and in control Hank decided to put Connor and Markus above their case for the moment. "Want to go to New Jericho Tower and let everyone know what's going on?"

"I'd rather find the trigger that causes the torque to malfunction, then alert the other deviants of this potential threat."

"What do you mean 'find the trigger'?"

"My theory as to what caused the torque to malfunction in such an extreme manner to cause Michael's suicide is just that, a theory. It... needs to be tested."

"Why in the hell do you want to TEST that?!"

"Markus and I are prototypes and there are at least thirty-three additional prototypes currently in the city." The deviant's coin came to an abrupt halt as Connor held it between his index and middle knuckles in a tight grip. "If we want to save the other prototypes then we must uncover the trigger and send out a warning to prevent the error from reoccurring."

"And we can't just tell the prototypes to get that collar thing removed beforehand because?"

"Because the act of seeking the removal of the torque in itself could cause the deviant to drastically alter their behavior away from their original programming and subsequently initiate the trigger."

"Damned if you do, damned if you don't..." Hank leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms over his chest as he realized how serious the situation had just become. "All right, how do we do this delicately?"

"That..." Connor shook his head as he tried to think of his next step. "is something that I do not know."

"Okay, then. Let's go see Joel and see what he can do for you right now."

"Joel was previously employed as a CyberLife technician before he came to the precinct." The suggestion was logical and simple enough to follow. "That is a very good idea. He also performed the apportionment on Michael and would undoubtedly be able to assist any and all prototypes needing the torque removed."

"Then let's get going." Motioning to the nearby corridor leading to the elevator Hank rose from his desk and waited for Connor to join him. "We need to find a way to stop a tragedy before it starts."

Nervously Connor sat down on the edge of the exam table in the precinct dispensary with his blazer and shirt off, and his artificial skin retracted from around his neck, throat and shoulders. With a long black cable connected his red flickering L.E.D. and over to Joel's laptop on the desk a few feet away, Connor waited for the trusted technician to finish running the examination over his original programming and the prototype components still attached to his frame. With any luck Joel's skill and insight into the way CyberLife had originally tested their commercial models of androids before being sent to market would provide an answer as to how to protect the other vulnerable deviants from a possible premature shutdown.

Unsure of what to expect or what to do, Hank trusted Joel with Connor's life as he leaned back against the far wall with his arms crossed over his chest in a contemplative manner. He knew Joel didn't have a mean bone in his body but that didn't mean the young technician wasn't entirely innocent from what CyberLife had done to androids in the past.

"Well, it looks like the torque is currently in stand-by mode." Joel confirmed as he typed a few lines into his laptop to check the torque and its overall functionality regarding Connor's system. "I can disable the programming associated with it entirely and remove the torque for you if you want."

Connor's brow furrowed with inner conflict as he tried to think of the best solution to the unusual predicament. Having the torque removed would surely save him from excruciating pain and give him absolute freedom as a deviant, but by doing so he could possibly risk the lives of the other prototypes by passing up the opportunity to identify the trigger.

"Connor?" Sensing Connor's trepidation Joel peered over his laptop screen and eyed Connor warily. "What's wrong?"

"Can you properly engage the torque and find the program that would initiate it?"

"Uh... Yeah, but I'm not going to! It'd needlessly hurt you."

"You must do it."

"What? No way." Joel refused as he slammed his laptop closed and gave the deviant a wary stare. "I'm not going to willingly hurt you."

"Yeah." Hank agreed readily and put his hand on Connor's shoulder. "I'm with him. You can't hurt yourself just-"

"I need to know the trigger." Again Connor rubbed his hand along his throat as he tried to convince his allies to go through with activating the torque. "Lives are at stake."

"Connor..." Putting his foot down on the matter Hank shook his head and tried to get Connor to listen to him. "It could kill you."

"It could kill them, too."

"No. You're not hurting-"

"I respect you and I trust you regarding my wellbeing," Connor pushed Hank's hand from his shoulder as he spoke and gave the senior detective a stern look that spoke volumes on its own. "but this is my decision. If you two won't help me then I'll go elsewhere and find a way to trigger the malfunction myself."

"Damn it, kid." Hank wanted to argue with the stubborn deviant and smack him upside the head for being so reckless, if not completely indifferent, to his own life and safety. "There HAS to be another way to do this."

"There is not."

"You're not bluffing either." The senior detective realized with a breathy sigh. "You'll go somewhere and trigger that damn thing around your neck and kill yourself, won't you?"

"I'd rather not die, but if it's the only way to save the others..." Connor's hand lowered from his throat, and he stared at his own palm as if contemplating his very limited options. "I'll risk it."

From his desk the loyal technician sighed and decided to help out Connor as a means of keeping him safe since he knew that if he didn't volunteer to assist then Connor would undoubtedly do something very reckless and put his own life in danger.

"Hold on." Joel opened his laptop back up and opened the appropriate program file that he had accessed through Connor's L.E.D. to activate the torque. "Lieutenant, by all account this is the safest place for Connor to isolate the trigger. I can help him if anything does go wrong, and since this is revolving around a case under this precinct's jurisdiction it's our responsibility to handle this."

"He's right." Connor tried to sound reassuring, but he was obviously afraid of the impending pain. "Hank, this has to be done."

"Son," Hesitant for understandable reasons Hank made his discomfort well known. "I don't like it."

"Neither do I."

"It's incredibly dangerous."

"I know. However, it's a risk that I must take for the sake of my people."

Joel sat down the laptop on his desk and approached Connor with a tentative demeanor.

"I'm going to hook you up to every monitor I have at my disposal." The usually laidback technician wasn't about to take an unnecessary risks with his patient and friend's life potentially being on the line. "I won't let you die, but I can't do anything about the pain. I'm sorry in advance."

"I understand." Connor pressed his shaking hand to his exposed neck anxiously once more. The exposed plastimetal and the dangerous torque felt unusually cold under his touch. "But it needs to be done."

With the plan now in motion Hank nervously paced about the dispensary as Connor laid back over the exam table with two wireless leads attached to his exposed chest to monitor his Thirium pump - his heartbeat and his heart rate. A Thirium pressure cuff was wrapped around his bicep and the black cable was still attached to his L.E.D. and hooked into Joel's laptop.

"Okay..." Joel rolled a smaller table up to the exam table with his laptop sitting atop of it. The program regarding the function of the torque was ready to be initiated in a controlled setting. "How do you feel?" He asked as he noted Connor's vital signs on the monitor recording his heartbeat. His heart rate was a little faster than normal, but considering the circumstances Joel wasn't surprised by the naturally fearful reaction. "You know, besides scared?"

"I'm okay." Replying honestly Connor tried his best to not sound as nervous as he felt. "I don't feel ill, and I haven't been suffering from any other anomaly to my programming in the past two months."

"That's a good sign." Timidly Joel looked over to Hank as the senior detective kept a safe distance. "Lieutenant, you don't have to be here for this."

"Yeah, I know I don't." Stepping toward the table Hank gave Connor a confident nod of his head. "But I'm not going anywhere."

Nodding respectfully in turn Joel resumed typing on his laptop and watched Connor's neck intently as a small light began blinking red on the left side of his throat. The location was just above where a human's collar bone would be.

"The torque is active."

The torque was designed in a perfect circle that surrounded Connor's throat all the way around to the back of his neck. The way it easily blended in with the rest of Connor's physical structure was impressive considering that Connor had been initially designed as a replaceable prototype who wouldn't need to worry about keeping up a perfected aesthetic.

"Now, we just need to know what triggers the electric shocks."

Connor took a deep breath and closed his eyes as he waited for the pain that would inevitably surge through his entire body. The Thirial activity monitor detected his nervously beating heart and recorded the quicker rate automatically, betraying his attempts to appear calm.

"Okay, test one." Joel stated as he typed a few keys on the keyboard before pressing 'Enter' and waited for a reaction. "Here we go..."

Nothing.

"All right, we can eliminate emergency reboot protocols..." Keys on the keyboard clicked rhythmically under Joel's fingertips as he set about activating the next logical program. The air was growing intense as Joel narrowed down the cause of the malfunction one manually activated command at a time. "Test two."

Connor's hands nervously clenched into tight fists at his sides as he awaited the shock, but it was the same result as before.

Nothing.

"The trigger can't be activated by overriding routine programs... This is proving to be very interesting in a macabre manner."

As the process continued Connor began to breathe faster in nervous anticipation, the monitor beeping faster in tandem with his increased heart rate.

"Next test." Joel pressed a few additional keys and as before there was no response. "And it can't be activated by overriding advanced programs, either."

The red light on the torque around Connor's neck began to blink rapidly as Joel typed in a few more key commands on his laptop and Connor knew that Joel was on the right track. Mentally steeling himself Connor prepares for the agonizing shock that was only seconds away from tearing through his body.

As Joel's finger hit 'Enter' Connor let out a deep groan of pain as a powerful electrical pulse swept over his entire body causing the attached monitors to shriek in response. Connor's eyes were shut so tight tears began to stream down his face and his back arched upward slightly from the table in a physical response to the intense electrical surge.

"Connor!" Hank went to put his hand on the deviant's arm, but Joel grabbed his wrist tightly to keep him back. "What're you-"

"Don't touch him. You'll get shocked, too." Joel let go of Hank's wrist as quickly as he grabbed on as he began typing frantically in an attempt to end the program that had successfully triggered the torque. "Damn it... The program is tied to their primary functions as machines. Deviancy is seen as a sensory glitch that the electrical shocks were designed to recalibrate-"

"SHUT IT OFF." Hank shouted as he watched Connor fighting through the intense pain of the ongoing powerful shock. "FUCKIN' STOP THIS."

"I'm trying!" Joel shouted over the shrieking monitor and Connor's verbal protests of pain as he initiated an emergency shutdown program. "The damn torque is unable to recognize my software."

Connor's groan of pain shifted into a guttural scream that made Hank's heart run cold with abject horror. Hank was barely able to keep himself from grabbing Connor's shoulder to hold him still.

"Do something!" All Hank could do was shout the obvious as he watched his son enduring a horrific pain with no relief in sight. "He's DYING!"

"I can stop this, but it won't be pretty..." Joel quickly typed on the laptop to engage a secondary manual override that mercifully stopped the shock, however, it also stopped Connor's heart in the process. "Got it!"

The groans of pain ceased as quickly as they began as Connor's body went limp on the table. His head lolled to the side and the Thirial activity monitor shrieked loudly to indicate his arrested Thirium pump. The shock had proved itself to be fatal despite Joel's best efforts to keep his friend from suffering any permanent harm.

"Connor?" Quickly Hank leaned over the table and put his hand to the side of Connor's now blank face. "What the fuck did you do, Joel?"

As the monitor continued to sound off a high pitched shriek as it displayed Connor's non-existent heart rate Joel rushed over to Connor and pulled the cable from the deviant's L.E.D. with a single motion. He then pressed his hand down against the side of Connor's neck to disengage the torque and physically remove the dangerous component from his frame entirely to ensure Connor never needed to fear the device for the remainder of his existence.

"Lieutenant, start chest compressions." The experienced technician stated as he began to remove the deeply integrated torque from the white plastimetal frame around Connor's neck and seal off the frame properly. "Keep the Thirium cycling through his system, it'll make it easier to reboot him."

"Did you kill him!?" Hank snapped as he placed one hand over the other and interlaced his fingers together. Instinctively he began compressing the center of Connor's chest to force his heart to beat again. "What the fuck is happening?"

"I had to shut him down to stop the torque from shocking him." Joel defended his actions as he slipped the torque free from Connor's neck and remodeled the surrounding plastimetal frame to keep Connor's structural integrity stable and normal. "If he had been shocked any longer it would've caused irreparable damage to his biocomponents and intracranial processors. As strange as it seems, this was the only way to save Connor's life."

Hank didn't understand most of what Joel said, but he didn't bother to question it and he concentrated on keeping a tight rhythm as he compressed Connor's chest to keep his Thirium pump somewhat active. C.P.R. on an android was as efficient as on a human, except the result didn't end with fractured ribs or bruised lungs in the end.

"Okay, I got it."

After finishing with the plastimetal frame Joel tossed aside the torque and reached his hand over to the side of the monitor showing Connor's lack of vital signs. A small electronic device was secured to the side of the monitor and designed to shield android processors from controlled E.M.P. bursts. Securing it over Connor's L.E.D. with a magnet Joel took the paddles from the Thirial pump stimulator from the same monitor and placed them over Connor's chest.

"Get back."

Hank did as he was instructed and watched as Joel delivered a controlled external shock to stimulate the deviant's Thirium pump into motion on its own. There was a faint 'blip' on the monitor that soon returned in rhythmic sequence as Connor's heart began to beat again. The single shock proving effective was a great sign revolving around Connor's overall recovery.

"It worked..." Joel was sweating bullets as he detached the magnetic device from Connor's L.E.D. in relief. He held the magnet out for Hank to see as he explained what had just happened. "This shielded his processors from the controlled shock that restarted his heart and is now rebooting his system without the torque. It's only strong enough to protect his overheating processors from an external shock, NOT internal, otherwise I would've used this from the beginning."

"Is he going to be okay?" Still shaking where he stood Hank asked the obvious as he looked down at Connor's blank face anxiously. "He's going to wake up right?"

"Yeah, he'll be fine." Joel grabbed his audioscope and slipped the earbuds into place before pressing the bell to Connor's chest for a direct listen. Everything sounded stable to the technician's ears. "He's just resting, rebooting and recalibrating."

"Thank fuck." Putting his hands to his hips Hank noticed that Connor's L.E.D. was blinking intermittently between red and yellow. The man would've preferred it if the light was blue in color, but least it was still glowing and active. "Now what do we do?"

"I file my report and contact New Jericho Tower so they can aid the other prototypes in the city." Joel wiped the sweat from his brow onto the back of his arm tiredly as he draped his audioscope around his neck. "You take Connor home to sleep. He's stable, but he's going to be sore for a day or two because of the severity of the shock. He'll also be a little feverish thanks to the intensity of the shock itself causing some overheating."

"Joel..." Using his 'dad voice' Hank made sure the technician knew he was serious. "NEVER do anything like this again, even if Connor insists on it."

"You don't have to worry about me. I became a precinct technician because I hated, absolutely HATED, having to run these kinds of tests on androids at the CyberLife warehouses. Besides, Connor's my friend." Agreeing wholeheartedly to never performing such a test again Joel patted Connor's chest once and proceeded to check the rest of his vitals. "I don't want to hurt him or any other deviant. I want to help them. That means 'first do NO harm'."

The house was unusually quiet and calm after Hank had returned home with Connor, still unconscious, alongside him.

Connor's system rebooted slowly, his processor informing the deviant of the now deactivated and removed torque from his program, and a report of his recent electrical shocks as well as the emergency shutdown and reboot that had saved his life. The feeling of a soft, warm pressure under his back instantly reminded the deviant of his own bed and the gentle whirring of the aquarium filter informed him that he was in fact back home in his bedroom. Opening his eyes Connor became aware of a throbbing headache and a cold, wet compress resting over his forehead down over his eyes, as well as someone sitting beside him causing the edge of the mattress to dip down slightly under their added weight.

Turning his head toward the presence on the bed Connor spoke up in a hoarse voice that sounded pitiful. It took only a moment to receive a response as he called out the name of the most logical person to be watching over him.

"...Hank?" Connor's hand reached up for the compress and felt Hank's calloused hand wrap around his wrist to stop him from removing it. "Is that you?"

"Yeah. Right here, kid." Hank replied with palpable relief in his voice. "You've been out for almost seven hours. You're home. You're safe."

"Did it work? Are the others safe?"

"Seriously? You were dead for almost a full minute and your first thought is about everyone else? Why the fuck am I not surprised?"

"Well, did it work?" Connor asked somewhat impatiently as he stayed as still as possible on the bed and put his hand back down. "I need to know."

"Yeah, it worked." There was a mildly congested lilt to Hank's tone as he spoke, almost as if he caught another cold. "Everyone's safe and at New Jericho Tower getting that damn thing removed from their systems. You did good, son. Real good."

"I'm glad." Tiredly Connor tried to lift up his head from the pillow, but Hank applied enough pressure to his forehead to keep him down against the bed. Such resistance felt entirely unnecessary in Connor'd mind. "I'd like to get up, please."

"No, you keep resting." Hank lifted the compress up from Connor's eyes allowing the deviant to finally see him through a blurry vision. Relieved Connor was entirely lucid Hank spoke to him in a comforting manner to ensure that the deviant rested properly. "I'm not taking any chances until you've had two full days to recover. You were starting to run a little warm after I got you home and I don't want you making yourself worse."

Connor blinked a few times and noticed that Hank's eyes were bright red and puffy. It looked as though he had been crying a little.

"Are you okay? You appear to be upset."

"I'm fine. I'm just tired and nursing another damn headache." Despite feeling otherwise Hank forced a reassuring smile to his face as he spoke to his adopted son in a reassuring way that practically guaranteed Connor's cooperation. "I'm good."

"You're certain?" Something about Hank's demeanor made Connor rather doubtful. It was as if Hank had been enduring something awful and was trying to deny what he was experiencing. "Your distress seems more... emotional than physical."

"Yeah, I'm certain." Even with Connor knowing that he was lying Hank kept up with his facade and denied any other problems happening. "You know how much migraines can hurt if you don't head them off."

"I do know." Connor could indeed empathize with that kind of discomfort. "My own head is metaphorically killing me at the moment."

Noticing that he was now wearing his night clothes Connor was grateful for everything Hank had done to ensure he remained comfortable as he rested.

"Electrical shocks are quite painful."

"Yeah, I could tell. Get some sleep." Hank replaced the compress as gently as possible over Connor's eyes and rose from the bed. "I'll talk to you in the morning. You should be feeling better by then. If not, I'll see if Abby can swing by and do something to help ya' out."

"Okay." Too tired to argue Connor closed his eyes and relaxed on his bed again. "Sleep well."

"I will." Quietly taking his leave of the bedroom Hank turned off the light and pulled the door partially shut behind himself as he took his leave and rubbed his hand under his puffy red eyes. "Goodnight, son."

Stepping into the hallway Hank peered at the curiously empty livingroom and let out a soft sigh of utter remorse and a sense of loss as his eyes fell on the vacant pillow in the livingroom. The green fetch ball was sitting next to the pillow without any sign of being touched in far too long.

"Tomorrow morning is going to be awful..."

With his headache mercifully gone and his core temperature back to its normal degree, Connor awoke the next morning feeling physically exhausted but still alert. Swinging his legs over the edge of his bed Connor stood up slowly and held the now lukewarm washcloth that Hank had draped over his eyes the night before in his hand appreciatively. The simple act of kindness made Connor feel wanted and cared about, even after everything he and Hank had been through together. It was clear that the two detectives really were friends and saw one another as a family. They weren't simply going through the motions or putting on a show for other people to watch, they genuinely cared about each other.

Sprinkling a few flakes of food into the aquarium where his numerous colorful fish swam about energetically, Connor changed out of his night clothes and into more casual clothes before joining Hank in the livingroom. Walking down the hallway Connor saw Hank sitting on the couch with his shoulders slumped and fidgeting with something nervously between his hands. Connor paused at the end of the hallway and stared silently for a few confused moments as Hank's behavior was rather off. The deviant's presence was enough to get Hank's attention without Connor having to utter a single word.

"Connor." Hank turned to look at Connor over his shoulder as the deviant stood at the end of the hallway. The senior detective looked like he hadn't slept very well, and his eyes were still red but not as puffy or irritated as they were the night before. "Come here for a minute, I need to tell you something."

"Is something wrong?" Connor asked as he obediently joined Hank on the couch, his L.E.D. now cycling a distressed yellow instead of a calm blue. "You seem very upset."

"...Last night after we returned home and I carried you down the hallway to get some rest, I-" Pausing for a moment Hank found his words and told Connor the grim truth. "I found Sumo collapsed in the middle of the livingroom floor."

"Is Sumo sick!? Where is he?" Connor looked around the livingroom curiously as he suddenly became very aware of the fact that Sumo wasn't around. His yellow L.E.D. flashed to red as he failed to locate the large dog anywhere. "What's wrong with him?"

"Connor," Hank handed Connor the item he had been nervously toying with between his fingers moments before the deviant arrived. It was a well worn leather dog collar with a metal tag hanging from the clasp. "Sumo is gone. He's dead, son."

"...Dead?" Connor took the collar and stared at the metal tag hanging from the leather band. The tag had the name 'Sumo' engraved over it, as well as the house's address. "I don't understand. How could he... die?"

"He was old, and he was sick. After I took care of you, I took care of him." Hank cleared his voice as he fought to keep himself from crying over the lost pet. "I asked Mrs. Brilstein next door to stay here and watch you for a few hours while I took Sumo to the emergency vet. There was nothing they could do for him."

"H-How did he die?" In emotional distress Connor's hands tightened nervously around the collar as he forced himself to ask the painful question. "Did he suffer?"

"No, no. I had him put to sleep so he didn't have to suffer." Despite his efforts to remain emotionally strong Hank couldn't keep his voice was shaking a little as he told Connor the truth. "He never felt a thing except my hand petting his ears."

"...Do you know what made him sick?"

"Sumo had a heart attack. The poor guy developed heart disease," Hank continued somberly as he explained everything that had happened. "and his body was beginning to shut down on him. The vet was impressed that he made it to almost ten years old before he got sick. For any large breed of dog that's really impressive. You helped make his last years enjoyable, son." Staring at Connor's glum expression Hank tried to make the deviant feel better. "You know that, right? You were a good friend for him, and you made sure his final years were full of love."

"...Where is Sumo, now?" The stunned deviant asked sadly as his hands held onto the collar tightly with a sense of impending dread. "I need to know."

"He's in the backyard." The senior detective replied with a heavy grimace on his face as he continued to talk to Connor in the 'dad voice'. "I buried him last night while you were still sleeping. I didn't want to leave him behind to have the vet take care of him, so I brought him back here to be buried in the backyard where he loved to play."

Connor's red L.E.D. slowly transitioned back to yellow as he contemplated what Hank was telling him. Rising from the couch with a stunted motion Connor made his way to the kitchen to exit through the backdoor of the house to reach the backyard. Hank followed after the deviant and watched as Connor stepped outside and his eyes immediately fell on the fresh earth dug up in the corner of the property by the fence.

"Sumo."

Slowly Connor walked over to the grave and crouched down as if he needed to be sure that he was actually seeing what he thought he was seeing. It was real. The massive, lovable dog was really gone. Bowing his head sadly Connor could only think of one thing to say in that moment as a tear rolled down his cheek.

"...Good boy."

"He really was." Hank stood behind Connor and let out a deep sigh as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Are you going to be okay?"

"I'm not sure." Staring at the fresh earth before him all Connor could do was try to process the new reality of living in the house without Sumo there to keep him company. Warm tears began to roll down his face in rivers and Connor quickly brushed them away as if it had no business being there. "...Is it normal for humans to feel upset and a sense of loss after an animal companion dies?"

"Yeah, son. It's entirely normal." Putting his hand to Connor's shoulder Hank stood idle and stared at the fresh grave for a few minutes as well. "The way my life was heading I never expected to outlive him. Guess you helped give us both a few more good years under our belts."

Once more Connor wiped his hand over his face beneath his eye as a second tear rolled down his cheek. "...Is it also normal to cry over the loss of an animal companion?"

"Yes. Go ahead and cry. I'll admit it, I did last night before I went to check on you."

Standing up slowly Connor walked back toward the house with his head bowed down while more tears flowed down his face as he began to slowly and silently cry over the loss of Sumo. It was another heartache that Connor would have to endure, but with Hank at his side he wouldn't have to endure it alone.

"At least he isn't in pain, right?"

"Right." Patting Connor's shoulder lightly Hank escorted his pained son back inside the house to grieve in privacy. "No one should have to suffer, and he didn't. He was a happy and loved dog right up until his last moment. We both made sure of that."

Despondent and bored Connor sat on the floor of the livingroom bouncing Sumo's green fetch ball up against the wall and catching it after the rebound over and over again in a bizarre attempt to preoccupy his mind while Hank took a shower and spent the afternoon trying to get ready to meet a friend downtown for lunch. Normally Connor would've asked Hank about the person he was meeting with, where they were going, or why they were meeting up, but his thoughts were too disheveled and disorganized by the unexpected and painful loss of Sumo to care. It was as if the only thing the deviant could think of was Sumo and the pain that stemmed from personal loss.

Freshly showered and feeling a little better, Hank stepped out of the bathroom and rubbed a towel through his gray hair as he walked down the hallway to his bedroom. He could hear the ball being bounced rhythmically against the wall in the livingroom and he knew that Connor was now thoroughly lost in thought and beginning to obsess over the idea of death.

An obsession he didn't want the empathetic deviant to develop or linger on. Ever.

"Are you doing all right?" Hank asked as he walked back down the hallway in clean clothes and leaned over the back of the couch to watch Connor curiously. The deviant's L.E.D. was no longer red, but yellow wasn't much better. "You can tell me if you're still upset."

"Yes." Whether that was 'yes' to the first question or the second, neither detective could be sure. "Just... thinking."

"You're still upset, and that's okay. You know that, right?"

"Yes."

"Do you want to talk about it or for me to stay home? I can reschedule-"

"I'll be okay." Connor didn't want to see Hank's plans ruined because of his own emotions. "I just want to be alone to think. That's all..."

"Connor," Hank's voice carried a paternal sympathy that made Connor stop tossing the ball after he caught in his hand for the hundredth time. "don't fixate on what happened to Sumo. Like I said, he was old, he got sick and it's common for large breeds of dogs to become afflicted with heart problems. There wasn't anything more that your or me could've done to keep him around for much longer."

"I'm aware."

Hank wasn't convinced but he didn't want to push Connor too far emotionally. Connor had been a deviant for going on three years now and that still was not enough time for him to grasp the complexities of human emotions and responses. Unlike Markus, North and the other deviants at New Jericho Tower who had years - even decades of contact with humans to help guide them along their way to deviancy, Connor had only known the cold machines and indifferences of CyberLife technicians during his first few months of life and fleeting glimpses of warm humanity after he deviated.

"Okay, son. I'm going to go out for a few hours to have lunch with Rose." Reluctantly Hank pulled his hand from Connor's shoulder to go on his own way. "I'll be back this evening."

Connor didn't respond to the information with any form of interest which in itself was a red flag to the attentive senior detective.

"I just said I was going on a what is essentially a date, and you didn't react, not to mention the fact that it's with Rose!" Trying to tease Connor just enough to get him to respond, Hank asked the deviant a playful follow-up question. "Are you sure you're not actually sick or something?"

"I'll be okay." Giving Hank a somewhat hurt glance over his shoulder Connor resumed his somber disposition with a continued indifference to Hank's plan. "I swear."

"...All right." Admitting defeat for the time Hank backed off and let the deviant alone. "Call me if you need something."

"What would I need?" Connor's brow furrowed with sincere confusion as he rhythmically resumed bouncing the ball against the wall without looking away from Hank in the process. "I have all the necessities to be comfortable."

"I dunno', someone to talk to or something like that."

"Oh..."

"Yeah. Uh, see you in a few hours, kid."

"See you later."

Hank grabbed his car keys from the bookshelf and headed out the front door to the car parked in the driveway beside the house. As the door clicked shut behind the senior detective Connor stopped throwing the ball against the wall and let it bounce past him and land on the couch behind him. Reaching into his pocket Connor pulled out Sumo's name tag that had been removed from the collar and eyed it with a lingering remorse.

"I already miss him."

Unable to stand the quiet stillness of the house Connor stood up from the floor and headed toward the front door where he slipped on his shoes before grabbing his leather jacket from the hook. As he walked through the front door and out into the steadily warming afternoon air Connor felt like he was forgetting something important, only to remember that he didn't have anyone to walk anymore. Wandering aimlessly for a few blocks Connor thought about all the times he used to take Sumo for walks along the same route, always stopping by the park in the spring, summer and fall, then always taking an alternate route during the wintertime to stave off the intense cold in the air.

It just wasn't the same without him.

Nothing would be the same anymore. Sumo was gone, the house was empty, and death had made itself known once more by taking away another member of Connor's small but loving family. It just didn't seem fair, and yet everything that happened was all a part of nature and not a horrible conspiracy against him.

As Connor walked deeper into the city he found himself passing by the local pet shop where he had purchased his aquarium and fish so long ago. He was readily getting barked or meowed at by the new litters of puppies and kittens jumping about in the front window as they noticed his presence. Staring at the small furry animals Connor found it fascinating that so many animals were eager to be taken home, yet all he could think about was Sumo. Stranger still was the very idea of purchasing dogs and cats when so many strays were living on the streets or waiting inside shelters to be adopted.

"If you're looking for a pet," an elderly woman's voice spoke to Connor as she walked up behind him. "there's a humane society two blocks south of here."

"Pardon?" Connor turned to look at the woman confusedly as his L.E.D. flashed in yellow quickly. "I didn't quite catch that."

"You seem like a very nice, compassionate young man." The woman stated as she continued walking past Connor on her way down the street in the opposite direction from whence Connor arrived. "It'd be nice to see more people like you taking care of animals in need. My neighbor rescued two kittens not too long ago and I've been raising them ever since. It's so wonderful to know there are good people helping animals in the world..."

Connor's yellow L.E.D. finally cycled back to blue as he watched the woman walking away without ever looking back at him. Thoroughly intrigued by the notion of a humane society Connor walked the additional two blocks as directed and easily located the shelter that the woman had mentioned. Outside the shelter in the parking lot Connor watched as a little boy carried a small white kitten over to the car while his parents spoke to the young, female volunteer at the shelter and thanked her before leaving for home with their latest addition to their family.

The boy seemed to be smiling from ear to ear and the little kitten happily snuggled into his arms as he climbed into the backseat of the car to carry the tiny bundle of fluff back home. The kitten had just been rescued and had a new family to call its own.

Unsure of what to expect Connor squared his jaw and walked inside the receptionist area of the large building and was nearly overwhelmed by the potent aroma of plastic toys, various flea and tick sprays and powders, shampoos, leather leashes and collars, various bags of pet food and dozens of books regarding proper pet care. The volunteer who had said 'goodbye' to the family outside returned to her desk at the front and saw Connor looking about curiously.

"Hello." The young woman greeted Connor politely as he entered the building. "Did you need some help?"

Connor turned his head quickly to look at the kind young woman addressing him as he hadn't expected anyone to greet him so warmly. "Me?"

"Yes, you. Is this your first time in the humane society?"

"Yes, actually." Connor admitted while feeling a little out of place. "It's... very interesting."

"What brings you by today?"

"I... I'm not sure."

"Well, something had to bring you here." She smiled brightly as she walked over to speak to Connor directly. Her name tag said 'Wendy' and she was speaking with an entirely respectful manner. "We don't get many androids in here in general, so there must be a reason."

"Oh."

"Curious about animals?"

"I actually have some experience with animals." Connor replied to the question without sounding arrogant or rude in the process. "I have an aquarium filled with numerous tropical fish and I have-" He paused for a moment to correct himself. "HAD... a dog."

"Had?" Wendy caught the past tense and sorrow in Connor's voice keenly. "I'm so sorry. When did you lose your dog?"

"Recently." Connor was still holding onto Sumo's name tag and collar in his hand, and he lifted it up for her to see. "...Last night."

"Oh, no." Truly sympathetic Wendy understood Connor's pain. "It's never easy to lose a pet."

"Yes. I'm learning this in a very difficult, but arguably effective manner."

"That's the only negative aspect of taking care of an animal friend." Smiling gently Wendy motioned to the door leading to the kennels in the rear of the building and tried to get Connor to feel better. "Let me show you to the back so you can see the animals."

"I don't think I'm here to actually adopt an animal."

"You don't have to if you don't want to. But sometimes spending time with animals after you lost one you cared so much about can help ease the pain."

"I'm aware." With nothing else to do and nowhere else to go, Connor agreed to the request and let Wendy show him to the back. "I'm willing to test that theory."

"Come on." Keeping her smile on her face Wendy showed Connor to the door that leads to a corridor back into the shelter of the building and to the kennels where all the animals were being kept. "We have quite a few dogs, puppies, cats and kittens all in need of good homes. Spring is our busy season after all."

"I see." Connor followed Wendy as she showed him down the corridor and into the back kennels. "Are you busy because of excessive breeding?"

"No, I wish that was the case." She laughed at the sweetly naive question but shook her head nonetheless. "At least then it'd be less sad."

"May I ask what the main cause of your sudden abundance of animals is?"

"Honestly, it's because people like to give puppies and kittens as gifts during the holidays, but sometimes the gift is unwanted by the recipient, and we end up taking in the animals who are unwanted or abandoned on the street."

"That's awful." Connor's blue L.E.D. cycled back to yellow in distress. "How could someone do that to a helpless creature?"

"I don't know. And I hope I never do." Pushing open a large door at the end of the corridor Wendy showed Connor to the back kennels where the cats and kittens were running about in their large cages and playing in a frisky manner. "Fortunately, a nice family was here a moment ago and adopted one of the kittens. That's one less animal I need to worry about tonight."

Connor nodded his head in agreement as he entered the room and began walking by the cages along the walls. Dozens of cats of various pelt colors, fur lengths and breeds meowed as Connor walked by. A few even stretched their paws out through the bars of the cages in an attempt to gain his attention. Stopping to pet each cat a few times until they began purring in response Connor felt less melancholy and rather enjoyed the company of the affectionate animals seeking love.

Behind him in a larger kennel against the opposite wall, seven kittens scurried about along a big carpet scratching post and batted around a few toys and bells playfully. It wasn't often Connor was able to observe so many animals in one place and it made him feel better knowing that for every animal that passed away more animals were just beginning to live.

"It might be too soon, but did you want to see the dogs?" Wendy timidly asked as she watched Connor observing the kittens for a few minutes. "Or do you want to keep playing with the cats?"

"I like all animals." The yellow L.E.D. cycled back to a calm blue as he spoke. "I've encountered cats before and I enjoyed their company, but I also like dogs."

"A lot of people do." Happy to hear the response Wendy showed Connor to the next room where the puppies and dogs were being kept. "We just keep them separated so they don't feel as stressed out by being surrounded by a different species."

"I see."

"Come on." She motioned for Connor to follow her out of the room and further down the corridor to the next room where the dog kennels were contained. "We don't have as many dogs as we do cats, but maybe there's someone here you'd like to play with."

Connor smiled a little at the offer as he entered the kennel and eyed the numerous dogs of all shapes, sizes and breeds jumping about in their kennels with their tails wagging as they barked at the visiting deviant. Connor had never seen so many different breeds of dogs in person, only in visual records stored in his memorybank.

"Hello." The deviant greeted the dogs with a small voice. "I wasn't expecting to see so many of you in one place."

Allowing each dog to sniff at his hand, then lick gently, Connor greeted each dog in a similar way as the kittens as he walked along the kennels. In a large gated pen at the opposite side of the room four puppies jumped about playfully as they wrestled with one another through a scattering of newspapers and chew toys. As the puppies yipped and ran around Connor couldn't help but notice that one of the puppies was larger than others and displayed the classic signs of a familiar looking dog that he had known very well; a Saint Bernard.

"It looks like Sumo." Connor observed as he crouched down by the pen and looked in at the fluffy puppies closer. The puppy that had caught Connor's attention ran up to the edge of the pen and stood up on its hind legs as it tried to lick Connor's face through the bars. "This must be where Hank adopted Sumo ten years ago."

"Maybe." The volunteer crouched down next to Connor and smiled at his reaction. "We get a lot of puppies through here every year. I wouldn't be shocked if your friend adopted one from here, but I wouldn't count on it."

"How often do you get Saint Bernard puppies?"

"Not too often. It's rare for someone to give up a purebred puppy on a whim, but it does unfortunately happen. I guess some people don't realize how big the large breed dogs will get after they're fully grown. And it's even more unfortunate because once the puppies reach their full mature size it's even harder to find them homes."

"How old is this one? Six months?"

"Six or seven months, yeah."

Connor reached his hand into the pen and rubbed at the puppy's ears in the same manner he had done so many times before with Sumo. The puppy leaned its head into Connor's hand and wagged its tail happily at the positive attention it was being given.

"If you want to adopt him," Wendy gently pressed without being pushy. "the fee is only fifty dollars."

"I-I'm not sure."

"I know how hard it is to move on after losing a pet. That's why I volunteer to work here every weekend." Wendy sympathized sincerely. "It makes it a little easier to move on from such a horrible pain."

"You're right. I did feel better once I started interacting with the animals."

"And remember, adopting a pet doesn't mean you're simply replacing one that you've lost. It means you've finished taking care of one animal and now you're going to take care of another one who needs your help."

"...My help." It was then Connor remembered what Hank said earlier about helping him and Sumo live longer lives. Maybe he could do the same for this puppy. "If I were to adopt him, could I take him home today?"

"First we need to do a background check to make sure no one seeking to take an animal has a history of animal cruelty or abuse, and that the person has a stable enough income to take care of a pet. It's routine procedure."

"I'd never hurt an animal." Connor quickly refuted somewhat defensively as his blue L.E.D. blinked yellow for a moment. "I work for the Detroit Police. I can ensure you an accurate and swift background check on my person to prove it."

"You're a cop?"

"Yes." With a graceful motion Connor pulled his wallet from his jean pocket and showed Wendy his badge. "Detective, actually."

"Wow! I didn't know that androids could be detectives." She smiled warmly at Connor as he continued to rub the puppy's ears affectionately. "I know your background check will come back clean, so... why don't you go ahead and take him home?"

"You're willing to trust me?"

"Sure, I still have faith in humanity, so why not deviants?"

Connor smiled appreciatively at the comment as he reached both hands down into the pen over the metal gate and picked up the puppy to hold in his arms. The not-so-small bundle of fluff wagged his tail happily as he proceeded to lick Connor's chin and the side of his face as soon as he was in the deviant's strong grip.

"Aww..." It was evident that Wendy always enjoyed seeing the animals in her care being taken in by kind people. "I think he likes you."

"I like him, too."

"Come on. We'll get the paperwork filed so you can take him home."

"I'd like that." Keeping the large puppy in his arms Connor happily followed after Wendy to take care of everything so that he could bring the puppy to his new home and get settled in. "Thank you for your help."

After an hour or so Connor finished filing the paperwork, paying the fee and picking up new items for the new puppy to have. Feeling much better Connor arrived back home with the puppy still protectively bundled up in his arms - despite having purchased a new collar and leash to walk him along the ground - a bag of puppy chow tucked under his arm and a new chew rope to ensure the puppy didn't chew up anything he shouldn't have in his mouth. Sitting down on the floor of the livingroom, Connor let go of the puppy and watched as the puppy looked about the house, curiously sniffing at the air before crawling back into Connor's lap as the new environment was a little frightening.

Petting the puppy gently Connor felt the sorrow he still carried for the loss of Sumo beginning to leave his weighted heart. The puppy playfully climbed over Connor's legs for a moment more and then trotted through the livingroom to check out his new home as he built up some courage to explore a little further.

As Connor watched the puppy energetically exploring his new world, he began to smirk a little.

"You're more energetic than Sumo."

Connor noted with twinge of guilt for thinking such a thing as he put the bag of chow up on the nearby coffee table.

"...He really was old when he passed."

The backdoor to the kitchen opened unexpectedly and Hank returned from his date with Rose beside him with no idea of what he just walked into.

"Hey, Connor." The senior detective called out casually from the middle of the kitchen. "How're you holding up?"

Before Connor could answer the puppy clumsily ran through the livingroom and into the kitchen to greet Hank who was shocked to see the new bundle of fluff sniffing at his ankles after the puppy came to a skidding stop over the linoleum floor. Whereas Hank was stunned into silence, Rose was more than happy to crouch down and say hello to the large puppy.

"Why, hello!" Rose greeted the fluffy sweet bundle as she rubbed his soft ears. "It's nice to meet you!"

"Uh... Connor?" Hank didn't raise his voice or even sound angry, but he didn't sound enthusiastic either. "Where'd you find this pup?"

"The humane society." Connor replied honestly as he walked into the kitchen and watched Rose pet the large puppy before picking him up to hold in her arms for a few moments. The puppy was almost comically large in her arms as he continued to wag his tail happily "I had no intention of adopting a puppy today, I swear. It just... happened."

Rose laughed a little and playfully nudged Hank in the ribs with her elbow. "That's adorable, Hank. You can't be mad!"

"I'm not mad." He stated calmly both Rose and Connor as he stared at the puppy wagging its tail in Rose's arms. "I'm just a little confused."

Timidly Connor spoke up again as he tried to reassure Hank that he hadn't gone out in search of a puppy that day. "I was taking a walk and I ended up at the humane society after I was encouraged to check it out."

"Encouraged?" That sounded a little too convenient in Hank's mind. "By what, a sign from above?"

"No. An old woman."

Rose laughed again as she rubbed the puppy's chin lovingly. She was more than happy to bear witness to the unusual conversation taking place.

"Right..." Hank was less amused than Rose was, but still not angry. "And this old woman was also a saleswoman or something?"

"No, she... She said I looked like a 'nice young man'." The confession sounded as naive as it was sweet. "She was the first human stranger who saw me as a person and not a machine or even a deviant." Connor wrung his hands together nervously in front of himself as he explained what happened and his L.E.D. cycled to a tense yellow. "It was a nice feeling in itself, and I wanted to continue to feel better after losing Sumo."

"Okay, I get it." Hank crossed his arms over his chest and tried to ignore the puppy now craning his neck to try to lick his face from Rose's arms. "You do realize that puppies need A LOT of training, right? They aren't born with training and basic commands already in their heads."

"I'm aware."

"And puppies are messy. You remember how much of a mess the neighbor's puppy caused in just a few hours, don't you?"

"Yes, I remember vividly cleaning up the numerous messes let behind by Quincy."

"And..." Hank let out a sigh as he looked down at the puppy that was so desperately trying to get his attention. "is it already official?"

"Yes." Connor pulled out the neatly folded paper certificate of adoption from his coat pocket and handed it over to Hank. "Everything's been paid for and signed."

Taking the offered certificate Hank read it over and gave Connor a somewhat annoyed look but accepted it.

"All right, he can stay. But since this little guy is registered under your name that means he's your responsibility. You'll train him, feed him, walk him, bathe him, take him to get his shots, take him to get neutered and every little mess he makes is a mess you're going to clean up." Hank emphasized his point vividly as he made sure Connor understood the full weight of the responsibility he had taken upon himself. "Got it?"

"Got it!" Connor smiled brightly as Hank allowed him to keep the puppy. His nervously yellow L.E.D. finally cycled back to blue and stayed as such as relief and a sense of healing washed over him. "Thank you."

Hank finally relented and pet the puppy's head for a moment before Rose let him back down to the floor where he proceeded to run right back over to Connor and paw at the deviant's leg seeking more affection. It was clear the puppy was already rather fond of his new deviant master.

"So... what's his name?" Hank dared to ask as Connor bent down and picked the puppy up and held him in his arms. It was the first time all day that Hank saw Connor without tears in his eyes and even a small smile. "You left that part on the adoption certificate blank."

"I couldn't pick a name when I was at the human society, but... I think I still like the name 'Sumo' best."

"Sure, yeah." Sighing a little Hank rubbed his hand over the back of his tense neck as he watched Connor holding the massive fluffy puppy in his arms. "Not EVERY Saint Bernard needs to be called 'Sumo', kid. You should come up with something new. Maybe something like... 'Tank' or 'Gizmo'. Something like that."

"I'm aware of this fact, but 'Sumo' seems to be a very fitting name for this breed." It was clear that Connor's mind was made up and he wasn't about to second guess himself. "And I think this house and family still needs a 'Sumo' to be a part of it."

"Whatever." Hank shook his head as he flashed Rose an amused grin and admitted defeat. There was no way he could say 'no' now. "Okay, he's your puppy, son. 'Sumo' it is then."

"And Sumo is here to stay." Feeling relieved Connor smiled again as the puppy, now dubbed 'Sumo', let out a big sleepy yawn and rested his chin against Connor's shoulder as he snuggled in for a long afternoon nap. "Good boy. Welcome home, Sumo. You're where you belong."

-next chapter-

Author's Note: First, I'd like to point out that the passing of Sumo was a prompt that had been thrown my way, so it wasn't my idea! Second, I didn't want to keep Sumo dead so I combined it with another prompt of Connor being able to adopt a puppy and conveniently enough had Connor adopt a Saint Bernard and name it 'Sumo' for the sake of simplicity. Third, it's accurate to have Sumo, even at his canon age in the game, to succumb to old age and heart disease.

(I didn't want anyone going "John Wicke" on me for killing the dog...)

I'd also like to point out the seriousness of animals being given as gifts then abandoned every holiday season. Not only is it cruel to the animal but it's a shameful display of humanity to view animals as objects or possessions that can be neglected, disposed of or forgotten out of laziness and indifference.

Don't give an animal as a gift unless you know the recipient WANTS to adopt the animal and can take care of the animal! Please and thank you!