Resuming a normal life was proving itself to be a tad more difficult than expected. Attempting to go about his usual routines Connor stood in the middle of the kitchen with his arms folded over his chest as he leaned back against the kitchen countertop with his eyes closed and his ears focused on the sound of coffee marker brewing with a steady hum on the neighboring countertop. Normally Connor was wide awake, fully alert, and going through his routine promptly at seven in the morning every morning he had to work, but it was just past six in the morning and Connor was unable to sleep a little longer courtesy of his frequent and vivid nightmares that had been plaguing him for the past two weeks.

The lack of sleep was beginning to show as Connor's mood dipped with each passing day and his energy levels began to dwindle. It seemed as if insomnia and night terrors were just as damaging to deviants as they were to humans. There wasn't a lot of information regarding deviant insomnia, which meant any attempts to aid Connor's current issue was going to be a difficult subject to tackle.

"Connor?" Hank walked into the kitchen with his hand running through his bed-headed messy hair. The man let out a sleepy yawn as he addressed the young deviant under his care. "Why are you awake so early?"

"I couldn't sleep."

"Another nightmare?"

"Yes." Connor nodded as he opened his eyes and looked over to the senior detective standing a few feet away. "I've attempted to go back to sleep three previous times, but I was unable to properly return to rest mode."

"Same nightmare as before?"

"No. This one was different."

"Want to talk about it?"

"No. I'm aware that nightmares are common after enduring traumatic events. They'll stop soon enough."

"Hopefully they'll stop soon." Dropping his hand from his hair Hank sighed and gave Connor a sympathetic stare. "Want to call off work today or report in a couple hours late so you can try to sleep again?"

"I'm okay. It's been two weeks since I struck the suspect, and I haven't had any incidents since my return in that time." Connor heard Sumo scratching at the backdoor and made a move to let him back inside the house as he continued to speak with Hank. "The nightmares are becoming less frequent as well."

"But you're still having them, and you're not getting nearly as much sleep as you need."

"Correct." Wisely Connor opened the door and stepped aside as Sumo barreled back inside and went right to his already filled food bowl to chow down. "I'm not experiencing any delusions or hallucinations during my waking hours, if that's what you're worried about."

"No, but I am going to stay worried that you aren't getting enough sleep." The coffee brewer lit up with a small blue light and shut itself off automatically. "Unlike me, who can fall back on some coffee to keep me awake, you don't have that luxury."

"You should reduce your caffeine intake altogether. With only one functioning kidney-"

"Nope." Hank held up a 'shushing' hand to stop Connor's lecture as he prevented the deviant from trying to change the subject. "We're not talking about me; we're talking about you. Don't try to deflect or change the subject on me."

"I'm running at optimal parameters and at full power." Instinctively Connor tried to ease Hank's worries by letting his father know that he wasn't in immediate danger despite his current poor sleep habits. "Androids don't suffer ill effects from a lack of sleep, only low energy that can be easily remedied through manually activated rest mode or by entering low power mode."

"Okay, whatever you say." Not in the mood to argue, Hank dropped his hand and turned around to head back down the hallway toward the bathroom. "I'm going to shower off and get ready for work."

"But you don't have to be awake until-"

"I know, but I'm already up." Hank grumbled as he made his way into the bathroom and turned on the light. "Might as well make use of it."

Connor was unsure of what Hank meant by that but decided that he would do something productive while Hank was in the shower, and then proceeded to make a light breakfast for Hank to try to encourage the senior detective to have more than just one cup of coffee in the morning. Sumo was immediately at Connor's side as he prepared the early morning meal, but Connor refrained from letting the energetic young dog have any of the scraps from the frying pan.

"Sorry boy, it could make you sick if I feed you food not intended for canines."

Letting out an annoyed grumble Sumo sulked off to the livingroom and flopped down on his bed with an audible 'huff' with disappointment. Noting the silly behavior Connor shook his head at the peculiar reaction and resumed focusing on his task on the stove.

"Interesting. The original Sumo wasn't so... dramatic."

Turning over the eggs in the pan Connor sighed to himself and compared the young dog to his deceased predecessor.

"Perhaps it's what humans call 'teenage angst' that's causing Sumo to be impatient and emotional."

Whether it was from a paternal need to protect Connor or genuine worry for his friend's overall health Hank couldn't be certain, but he knew that Connor did need the chance to try to return to a normal routine as soon as possible as he dealt with the traumatic events that had threatened to leave a permanent scar over his mind and his heart. Taking an unusual route to the precinct to give Connor another taste of such normal routine, Hank pulled up the car and parked in front of the house that had once belonged to Carl Manfred, but now belonged to Markus and North. After the car parked out in front of the mansion Hank turned off the engine and waited for Connor to respond to the detour.

Connor had noticed the alternate route but didn't say anything until he saw where Hank had taken him. It wasn't any place he had expected to see, at least not without a very good reason. It was a place that Connor just couldn't bring himself to visit under his own power, not yet.

"Why are we here?" Connor asked as he craned his neck to look out his side window and up at the house a few yards away. "Is something wrong?"

"No. But you haven't seen Markus since you got back, beyond him stopping by the house to check on you. And you haven't seen North in... how long?"

"Since the night of the fire at New Jericho Tower."

"So a couple of months." Lightly Hank put his palm to Connor's shoulder and patted once in a sympathetic manner. "You want to get back to feeling normal, right?"

"Yes." Nodding a little Connor admitted that Hank was in fact right. "That is correct."

"Then you should do what you normally did before that mess and check in with your friends."

"But it's very early in the morning."

"Nice try, but I called Markus before I stepped into the shower. He knew we'd be stopping by."

"Oh."

"Come on, kid. We'll visit for a few minutes then head out to the precinct."

"You're right." Again Connor nodded and opened up his door while Hank did the same. "I should check in with them."

Patiently Hank waited for Connor to make the first step before walking beside him up the front walk and to the front door. Pausing for only a moment Connor pushed the doorbell and waited for a response as the gentle chime sounded off through the house to alert its occupants to their guests' arrival. There was a single light on upstairs in the master bedroom and a second light on in the foyer on the other side of the front door indicating that someone was already awake and that his and Hank's arrival weren't intrusive just as Hank had stated. The door opened smoothly, from the other side and Markus warmly greeted his two friends.

"Connor, Hank." While Markus's greeting was warm and welcoming, the full gleam in his eyes confirmed wasn't exactly in the mood to entertain guests. "Come in."

"Hello, Markus." Connor replied as he stepped through the door with Hank right behind him. "I apologize for the early hour."

"Don't worry about it." Markus dismissed the worry as he shut the door and addressed his guests. "We've been up since five this morning and that's actually pretty normal for us these days."

"I see." The admission was a little unsettling and Connor picked up in it quickly. "Is North all right?"

"For the most part, yeah." Sounding exhausted Markus confirmed that North's condition was stable but not ideal. "She's just uncomfortable and... worried."

"I can understand why." Connor looked up at the landing over the foyer on the second floor somewhat expecting to see North looking down at them, but no one was there. She was clearly too weak to even get out of bed. "If I may ask, I was wondering if you two had made any... final decisions?"

"We want to stay here." Mismatched irises filled with frustrated and frightened tears as Markus answered. "It's remote enough that no one would notice anything happening and North will be comfortable at home surrounded by her family and friends. It will be as peaceful and gentle as possible."

"Abby agreed to all of this?"

"She understands why we want to stay here and is willing to accommodate us, but she thinks it'd still be safest for us in a facility."

"I disagree with her and agree with you." Connor confessed while feeling somewhat cynical. The way they were preparing for the worst outcome was something that make Connor feel almost ghoulish. "In the event of a possible emergency do you have a second location in mind?"

"N-No, we didn't discuss it." The idea of needing to take shelter elsewhere had never even crossed Markus's mind. "Is there something we should be worried about?"

"No." Without missing a beat Connor answered firmly and honestly. "It's just a precautionary thought."

"Maybe New Jericho Tower if it becomes absolutely necessary." Markus replied with doubt thick on his tongue. "Simon informed me that the last of the tower's repairs are scheduled to be completed in two days. The tower will be safe and inhabitable after that, but we'd lose our secrecy if we leave the mansion to go back to the tower."

Hank cleared his throat to interject without intruding on the grim conversation taking place.

"When's North, uh, I don't know how to say it..." Feeling a twinge of guilt for even trying to ask Hank decided to commit and push for the answer. "Do you know how much time she has?"

"Yeah... Lieu- Hank," Markus quickly corrected himself as he tried to keep a brave face. "North has approximately eight weeks. And then it'll be... over."

Connor didn't like the macabre discussion though he understood that it was crucial.

"She'll won't be in pain or suffer." The deviant detective stated with unfailing confidence. "This will be the most peaceful manner for her to have her final moments."

"I truly hope so." Nervously Markus wrung his hands together as he made his way toward the kitchen door connected to the foyer and fought to keep his composure. The coin that he had been gifted was curiously in his palm but not dancing around as he was too stressed out to focus on the little tic. "I need to get some extra Thirium up to North, do you need anything? Thirium, coffee, or tea?"

"No thanks, we had our fill this morning." Hank gave Connor a quiet glance and motioned to the second floor with his eyes. "But I would like the chance to talk to you in private for a moment. Sort of a 'husband-to-husband' pep talk when it comes to, well, you get the idea."

"Yeah..." Pausing just inside the doorway to the kitchen Markus gave Hank a wary glance over his shoulder and nodded. "I get it."

Connor understood what Hank was hinting at and stepped in. "I'll take the Thirium to North. I would like to speak to her in person before I go."

"Sure." As Markus stepped into the kitchen and back out through the same door Connor took the large pouch of Thirium from his friend's hand while Hank wrapped his arm around Markus's shoulders to lead him from the foyer and into the main sitting area of the beautiful house. It was time to face the cold brutality of the changes that were seemingly inevitable. "Thank you, my friend."

With the Thirium in hand Connor ascended the staircase in a quiet, steady manner as he left Markus downstairs to talk with Hank in private. Reaching the end of the hallway and the partially closed door to the master bedroom, Connor softly knocked twice and pushed the door open as North turned her gaze from the large window overlooking the front yard and toward the doorway itself upon hearing the door sliding in its frame.

Forcing a kind smile to her face North greeted Connor as he entered the bedroom, her tired eyes still flashing with a fiery spirit. "Hey, Connor."

"Hello, North." Connor walked over to the bed where she was laying and handed her the Thirium. Instinctively he ran a cybernetic scan over North and noted her vital signs were stable albeit uncharacteristically low. "I'm happy to see you again. How do you feel?"

"Tired. Frustrated. Weak."

"You're not weak." Connor's brow furrowed with concern at her comment about herself. "You're ill, that's entirely different."

"Not really, but I get what you're saying." North laughed a little at Connor's sweetly naive comment as she opened up the pouch of Thirium. "Markus told me you got back to the city safely a few weeks ago. I'm glad you're okay and you came back to Detroit."

"Yes. It's taken some time but I'm beginning to feel more like my usual self." Gently Connor sat down on the edge of the bed as he spoke with North and did his best to not intrude on her personal space. "I had been speaking with Simon and Josh cybernetically over the past two weeks and they had agreed to deliver supplies to the refugee camp in the forest outside the city to aid Lucy and Rupert. I'm aware that New Jericho has no legal standing over the area due to it being public property, but I do hope that the tower will offer some form of protection over the area. They saved my life."

"We will, I promise." North smiled again and pressed her hand down firmly against her abdomen as he finished her pouch of Thirium. "...Shit."

"Are you all right?" Connor noticed her suddenly flinch and became worried for her condition. "You seem to be in pain."

"I'm okay. My Thirium filter isn't responding as it should anymore, that's all." The struggling biocomponent always gave her an ache whenever she needed to replenish her Thirium, which meant ached on a daily basis. "It takes some time for my body to adjust to new Thirium now."

"That is most unfortunate." Keeping a calm expression on his face Connor asked another question. "Are you nervous about what's going to happen?"

"Absolutely. I've never experienced anything like this before and I'll be the first one to shut down like this." North sounded more and more worried with each word she spoke. "...I don't want to die, but there's nothing that can be done and I've accepted my fate. I just can't stop thinking about Markus and how he'll be left alone when I'm gone. I love him more than anything in this world and all I can do is hope he knows it."

"He does, he really does. All that matters right now is that you and Markus know how much you love each other." Connor reaffirmed with a surprisingly confident tone to his voice. "And we won't just give up on you. We'll fight until the end to keep you with us no matter what it takes."

North smiled warmly at the comment as tears of relief welled up in her warm cinnamon eyes. "Thanks."

"Hey?" There was another knock on the door as Markus stepped through to check on his bond mate. "Hank's downstairs waiting for you, Connor."

Nodding to acknowledge Markus's comment Connor rose from the bed and exited the bedroom, his hand reaching up to pat Markus on the shoulder as he passed by. Pausing just outside the doorway Connor glanced back and gave his two friends a fearless gaze.

"Remember, if you need anything let me know."

"We will, thanks." Sitting down on the edge of the bed Markus held North's hand and gave her a reassuring squeeze. "Stay in touch."

"I promise that I will. Don't lose hope."

In a paternally protective manner Hank had been studying Connor's demeanor since they had left the house that morning to head off to the precinct to begin their shift as expected. After their visit with the two good friends and leaders to came to an end, Connor seemed less lost within himself but more melancholy, although his presence felt more reassuring and secure. It was almost like how it had been long before his abduction and imprisonment. It was as if seeing North at her weakest had given Connor the strength to keeping moving on. It was in his nature to be protective, and Connor wasn't about to stand idle and watch as North faded away into irreversible shutdown.

As the car passed through the final light to reach the precinct's parking garage, Hank addressed the deviant with a somewhat cocky tone of voice. He didn't want to push Connor too hard or put the deviant in a tough spot.

"Feelin' any better?"

"Oddly enough, yes." Connor confirmed with a slight nod of his head as he turned to look at Hank beside him in the driver's seat. "That was a good idea."

"Did you speak to North about anything important?"

"Yes." Lowering his voice a little Connor told Hank what he learned after his visit. "She is... nervous. She doesn't want to shut down, yet she seems to have made peace with what seems to be happening to her."

"That's normal."

"She also claimed she was 'weak', but she is not."

"Normal again, and that was the correct response to give." Wise beyond his years Hank joked kindly as he pulled the car into the parking garage next to the precinct and pulled right into his assigned parking spot. "You told her that, right?"

"Yes."

"Very good. Never let someone who's sick think that they're weak. They aren't." Hank pulled the car into park and opened his door while Connor did the same. "She can't help what's happening to her and so she shouldn't feel like she's somehow at fault."

"That's what I told her." A curious idea suddenly manifested as Connor traced his fingertips over his blank L.E.D. in deep thought. "Is it common for the ill to make to make such comments about themselves?"

"Yeah, kid, it's common. My mom tried to do the same thing when her cancer started to get the better of her, but my dad never let her do it. He refused to let her speak about herself like that even when she was on her deathbed. " Hank explained drearily as he and Connor headed into the precinct side by side. "We'll stop by in a week or two and check in with North and Markus again. We'll do what he can to keep her spirits up."

"May I ask what you told Markus while I was speaking with North?"

"Just a few words of reassurance." The man didn't want to betray Markus's trust, but he didn't want to leave Connor in the dark either. "I honestly think this is the first time I've ever seen Markus actually afraid of something and it was the same look I had in my eyes when I learned what happened to Barb."

"I saw the same glimmer of fear as well." Connor confirmed as he and Hank stepped through the front doors of the precinct to cross through the relatively busy bullpen to clock-in for their shifts. Their desks felt almost welcoming considering how long it'd been since they were able to handle an investigation in a somewhat controlled manner. "I believe you are correct."

"Like I keep saying, that's a normal reaction. Life is scary enough; I can't imagine what it must be like for someone so young and seemingly healthy to have to suddenly deal with death up close and personal." Sympathetically Hank let out a weary sigh as he sat down at his desk and turned on his terminal screen. "All right, enough of that kind of talk. Let's see what kind of shit we have to clean up today."

A string of reports of humans from seedy neighborhoods that were infamous for illegal drugs and theft detailed the origin of a new dangerous drug called 'slug' was causing numerous O.D.'s was the highlight. The drug itself was highly concentrated Fentanyl mixed with prescription Naproxen and Oxaprozin which causes an extremely calming effect of utter serenity to all of a person's senses once inhaled or injected. The drug cocktail was also resulting in cardiac and respiratory arrest as the drug could also double as a very potent sedative. Fourteen people had overdosed in the past six nights and four more were in the hospital on life support as the doctors tried to keep the victims alive until the effects of the drug wore off.

The prospect of a possible recovery was very poor for the victims who had fallen prey to the potent drug.

"This is a case for narcotics." Hank lamented as he read the reports and shook his head. "We got assigned to this bullshit because of my history with taking down 'red ice' rings. We're working homicide and deviant problems, not narcotics, and that's the way I like it."

"I believe your impressive history as a formerly assigned narcotics investigator and the massive number of confirmed victims makes us more than qualified to deal with this new drug ring."

"Qualified or not, I prefer working with dead bodies." The stubborn Lieutenant admitted as he gave Connor terse glance over his terminal screen. "The dead are nice and quiet. It's the idiots high on whatever it is they can get their hands on that annoys the fuck out of me."

"By all account there is a single dealer on the street who is responsible for all of these overdoses and can be held accountable for murder - manslaughter at the very least. That makes it fall into our division in the long run."

"Fan-fuckin'-tastic." Hank grumbled as he folded his arms over his chest and leaned back in his chair. If he was going to be sitting down and reading over grisly case files all day long, he might as well be comfortable. "All right. Where do we start?"

The new drug had quickly taken human lives and was considered as lethal as raw cyanide with how quickly it could kill the people who were experimenting with it out of pure curiosity. Combining his scanner and the reported details to his advantage Connor had managed to map out the area of the reported overdoses in the affected neighborhood, and with the now triangulated map he isolated a single region in the neighborhood that could be the possible epicenter of the drug epidemic that was sweeping through the area. Using his training and excellent deductive reasoning Connor located a small unassuming house situated in the middle of what appeared to be an abandoned street in the heart of the neighborhood of interest.

The neighborhood itself was quiet, gloomy and practically deserted. It was difficult to determine if the inactivity was due to the drugs in the streets or the lack of opportunities available in the immediate area. A majority of the houses were vacant and open for rent. The houses that were occupied were well secured, very quiet and seemed to be inhabited by people who wanted to keep to themselves.

"Are you sure about this, kid?" Pulling the car along the correct street Hank shifted into park and turned off the engine. Eyeing the selected house from the distance Hank wasn't entirely convinced they were in the right place. "That house is a little rundown, but it doesn't look like the usual drug den we've infiltrated before."

"Statistically speaking the likelihood of the house in question being the origin point of the drug distribution is eighty-seven point three percent in our favor."

"Okay, I'll take those odds." Opening his door Hank checked his gun holstered on his hip then glanced back at Connor still in the front passenger seat. "You armed?"

"Yes." Connor confirmed as he revealed his own gun that had been holstered around his back under his gray blazer. "I'm ready."

Nodding quietly Hank exited the vehicle and made his way toward the house with Connor following close behind then moving right at his side. The two detectives made sure their weapons were properly concealed as they readied their badges in preparation for a potential confrontation with an unknown person or persons of interest.

"Detroit Police." Hank knocked twice firmly on the wooden front door of the house and announced their presence. "Open up."

There was a sudden 'thud' from the inside of the house as footsteps hastily approached the door and pulled it open halfway; the chain over the door prevented anyone on the outside from gaining unwarranted entry.

"Y-Yes?" A young woman, no older than twenty-four and wearing a nice pink blouse and a black skirt, answered the door timidly. She was peeking from around the partially opened door at the two detectives on the front porch. "How can I help you?"

"Uh..." Hank wasn't expecting someone like her answering the door. "I'm Lieutenant Anderson," he flashed her his badge while Connor did the same thing at his side. "and this is Detective Anderson. We're investigating the possibility of drug deals taking place in the area. Have you seen anything?"

The woman was still nervous and refused to open the door fully as she spoke to Hank in a shaking voice. "N-No, nothing."

Instinctively Connor ran a biometric scan and detected the woman's elevated heart rate and blood pressure. She was afraid, but not of the two intimidating officers, she was afraid of something else.

"Miss, is there someone else inside the house with you?" Connor asked firmly but without aggression as he studied her demeanor. "Are you the only occupant of this residence?"

"Yes. It's just me." Despite her fears the woman was trying to put on a bold face. "My name is Vanessa. Vanessa Rockwell."

"We're investigating a potential crime taking place in the neighborhood, Miss Rockwell." Connor gauged Vanessa's reaction and confirmed she was telling the truth regarding the number of occupants of the house and of her identity. "May we come in for a moment?"

"Uh, sure..." Vanessa became more nervous as she was asked more questions. Closing the door just long enough to remove the chain she opened the door wide and allowed the two detectives into her house. "I'm not sure what you're expecting to find."

"We're merely being cautious." Connor answered sharply as he and Hank entered the house and stood inside the relatively well decorated foyer of the modest home. It had been recently repainted and there were numerous photographs of flora hanging on the walls. Even the floor had been recently restore causing the hardwood to shine brightly with a fresh polish. "Do you live alone, or do you have a roommate who is currently elsewhere?"

"No." Closing the door Vanessa looked at the two detectives with a suspicious gaze. "I live entirely alone."

"No roommates, huh?" Hank caught the same scent that Connor had picked up and began asking questions himself. "Pretty big place for just one person. Kinda' rundown, too. But it seems like you're making it into a pretty nice home."

"Y-Yes, thank you." Vanessa smiled nervously as her eyes darted about suspiciously. "I'm studying to be an interior designer."

"Oh, so you're a student?"

"Yes."

"Can I ask the secret to being able to afford a big house like this all by yourself while you're still in school? I mean, a mortgage AND student loans? That's gotta' make it hard to make ends meet. Not to mention you clearly remodeling this house by yourself is gonna' cost a pretty penny."

"Oh... I... uh..." Vanessa was becoming visibly agitated and was trying to back away from the two detectives. "N-No secret. I just got a great deal on the house, and I'm good with budgeting, that's all!"

"Yeah, sure." The Lieutenant wasn't going to let the matter drop as he knew that Connor was in fact on to something. "Must've been the deal of the century. If anything, you'll be able to buy low and sell high in a few years, maybe even a few months."

"Wh-What do you mean, sir?"

"Well, with this new drug craze called 'slug' wiping out people all over the neighborhood soon you'll be the only one left." As soon as he mentioned the drug Hank saw Vanessa pale to a sickly shade of white. The young student began to nervously shift her weight from one foot to the other as she eyed Hank and Connor with a strange sense of desperation in her gaze. "Hell, you're already the only occupant on this entire street. Must be perfect for a student when she's studying, right?"

"I-I don't like what you're saying to me, Lieutenant."

"What am I saying?" Hank crossed his arms defensively over his chest while Connor proceeded to run a cybernetic scan of the house and detected traces of Fentanyl in the air and on the recently cleaned floorboards around Vanessa's feet. It didn't take long for the keen deviant to begin an analysis on the substances. "Are you nervous?"

"Well, I... I don't know you and-"

"Miss Rockwell?" Connor took a step forward as Vanessa took a step backward in response. "Have you been ill or experienced any form of physical trauma that would illicit the use of prescription painkillers?"

"I..." On her guard Vanessa did her best to avoid answering any questions. "I don't understand the question."

"There are minute traces of powdered Fentanyl on the floor around your feet. Fentanyl is a very potent prescription only painkiller, and it can be lethal in even small doses if not handled properly."

In an instant Vanessa turned to run away from the two detectives but Connor was too quick and grabbed on to her arm to keep her from fleeing. As his hand firmly gripped her arm just above her elbow Vanessa turned back around just as quickly and revealed a switchblade in her opposite hand hand. With a swift slashing motion Vanessa managed to cut through Connor's artificial skin over his left forearm as he raised his limb to shield himself and let out a gasp of pain as Vanessa then stabbed the switchblade through the plastimetal frame of his arm with a firm strike.

"Hey!?" Hank was immediately in action as he pulled his handcuffs from his belt and wrangled both of Vanessa's arms behind her back and secured her wrists inside the metal restraints. Vanessa tried to break free but being of a petite build and half Hank's size made it impossible. "You just assaulted a police officer! You're under arrest for possession of illegal drugs and assault, don't make me add resisting arrest to the list of charges already against you."

Vanessa began to scream and kick wildly as Hank called for back-up to the address of the house with the radio clipped to his belt.

"Okay, resisting arrest will be added." Hank stated casually as he held the smaller woman at bay easily. "Anything else you want to admit to?"

Like a wild animal Vanessa began to shout with utter frustration as the two detectives refused to let her leave.

"GET OFF ME! I'M NOT THE CRIMINAL!" Her voice was hysterical and shrieking as Hank kept his hands on her arms to keep her from trying to run away for a second time and kept her held in place. "THOSE LOSERS DON'T DESERVE TO LIVE! THEY DON'T!"

"Oh, really?" In response Hank cocked an eyebrow and looked over at Connor who was running a scan over his damaged left forearm. "That sounds like a confession to me."

"I agree." Connor replied in a calm cool voice as he assessed his damage. Casually Connor extended his arm outward as he easily pulled the switchblade from the bloodied limb and held the weapon until it could be collected later as evidence by the officers who were currently en route to the scene. "It should be a simple case."

"We should be able to close it in record time." Hank noticed the blue blood and nodded at the deviant's affected limb. "How bad's the damage?"

"It missed all major Thirium lines." There was no reason for either detective to panic considering the location of the damage itself. "It'll stop bleeding in approximately ten minutes and will heal entirely within the hour."

Vanessa saw the blue blood staining Connor's gray blazer sleeve and her angered intensified.

"FUCKING MACHINE! YOU KNOW THAT HUMANS ARE TERRIBLE!" She was almost seething as a responding patrol car arrived at the scene to pick her up and investigate her house. "YOU OF ALL PEOPLE SHOULD KNOW THAT HUMANS DON'T DESERVE TO LIVE! WHY ARE YOU PROTECTING THEM!?"

"Because I want to." Connor stated without hesitation as he held his ground and gave her a disappointed glance. "Not all humans are bad. You, however, do seem to fall into the category of 'bad human'."

Tina and Chris raced up the front steps of the house with their guns drawn and looking to Hank for information on the situation as soon as they passed through the opened front door. As Hank explained to them what happened and handed Vanessa over to Chris to be taken into custody in the back of their squad car, he walked over to Connor and put his hand on the deviant's shoulder.

"You two take care of her, I'll take care of him." Carefully Hank took hold of Connor's wrist to examine the damaged limb without touching the wound by mistake. "Ask for Gavin and maybe Ben to take this scene if Ben isn't already handling the scene of another overdose."

"No problem, Lieutenant." Chris stated coolly as he practically dragged the kicking and shrieking Vanessa out of the house while Tina collected the switchblade from Connor and placed it inside of a plastic bag to keep Vanessa's fingerprints from being smudged from the handle. "We got this."

"You heard him. Let's go." Hank lightly pushed Connor's shoulder as he motioned for the deviant to step back outside of the house and to the car parked on the street just out front. The sight of Vanessa still screaming and kicking was enough to make the two detectives appreciate not having a drug addiction or knowing the struggle of drowning in debt. "There's a clean towel in the glovebox, wrap it around your arm."

"I'll check in with Joel once we return to the precinct."

"Cool." Protectively Hank watched Connor in case the deviant had a violent or extreme emotional response to being attacked, but Connor seemed just as calm and collected as ever. It seemed as if his cybernetic therapy sessions were really working for him. "Saves me a trip downtown if we skip a visit to the facility."

Connor smirked a little at the comment as he pulled open the car's front passenger door and looked down at his seat. "Shall I drive?"

"No way, kid. I don't want you bleeding all over my steering wheel."

"It'll evaporate over time."

"That doesn't make it any less gross." Opening his own door he gave the deviant an amused smirk before turning over the engine. "Maybe next time."

As instructed Connor kept the white towel from the glovebox wrapped around his bleeding forearm as Hank drove back the precinct so that the damaged deviant could receive proper repairs in the second floor dispensary. During the routine drive Connor began to feel a little lethargic but brushed it off as an unexpected result of his lack of sleep from his continuing interrupted rest modes courtesy of the nightmares that he had been suffering almost every night for far too long. As Connor leaned back against his seat and closed his soulful brown eyes, Hank couldn't help but notice the unusual behavior from the deviant. Connor didn't notice anything amiss or noticed Hank watching him from the corner of his eye.

Wondering if Connor was getting rest or ill, Hank slowed his speed and gingerly put his palm on Connor's shoulder. It didn't feel like Connor was overheating, which was a good thing, but that did very little to ease his moutning worries.

"You asleep?"

"No." Connor opened his eyes again and saw that Hank was now pulling into the parking garage next to the precinct. "However, I am beginning to feel low on energy."

"Too bad Fowler doesn't give us 'nap-time' in between cases. That'd be a hell of a way to boost morale."

"I'll be okay. I'll shift into low power mode after we return home and attempt to enter a prolonged rest mode tonight to catch up on my rest."

"Sounds simple enough." Giving Connor a subtle nod of the head Hank motioned toward the deviant's left forearm. "How's your arm?"

"The bleeding has decreased significantly." Connor lifted up the towel to examine the two wounds, one on either side of his forearm from where the long blade had entered from one side and penetrated through to the other side. "And I'm not lacking in any form of mobility, dexterity, or strength."

"Good. Let's get going." Hank urged as he put the car into park in his assigned space and turned off the engine. As he pocketed the keys he noted the time on the car's radio and let an annoyed sigh. "It's another two hours until we get our lunch break. Just great."

Connor didn't have a response as he slowly opened up his door and followed after Hank to enter the precinct a few paces behind him. It was as if Connor suddenly had difficulty in concentrating on anything for more than a few seconds at a time.

"You sure you're okay?" Hank actually had to stop walking and wait for the deviant to catch up to him. The lack of energy was undeniable for the young deviant and Hank was righteously worried. "You never walk slower than me."

"It's the fatigue and the mild Thirium loss resulting in my stunted walking speed." Connor easily explained away as he caught up to Hank and the duo walked through the bullpen and then down the long corridor to reach the elevators. "I'll resume my usual pace after I've properly rested."

"Yeah?" Hank pressed the 'call' button on the control panel for the elevator and crossed his arms over his chest defensively as he sensed something was amiss. "You're sure about that?"

"Yes, I'm certain."

"You can do your cyber-thing again, right? Does that mean you can run self-diagnostics again too?"

"Correct." Confirming Hank's inquiry Connor immediately set about running a self-diagnostic and the end result was a little disconcerting. "...Thirium volume is down to ninety-six percent and small particles of a foreign contaminant have been located in said Thirium."

"Contaminant?" Hank was sounding as worried as he was confused. The doors to the elevator opened and the two detectives stepped inside the vacant car side by side to go to the second floor and reach the dispensary. "What kind of contaminant?"

"Foreign particle matter that was deposited into my Thirium lines from the switchblade that had been stabbed through my left forearm."

"What kind of matter?"

"The sample is too small for my sensors to properly identify without a direct analysis. The most likely substance would be common dirt or-" Connor began to sway a little on his feet and his eyelids began to droop as if falling asleep. "...That was unusual."

"Very." Hank put his hand on Connor's shoulder to steady the deviant and help guide him out of the elevator and onto the main floor as the two walked over to the precinct's dispensary just a few doors away from the elevator. "There's something else going on besides you being sleepy."

"You may be correct."

"Shit, now I know something's up. You're agreeing with me."

Joel had heard the two voices approaching his opened door and rose from his desk to greet the two detectives as they walked into the android unique examination room. It was nice to see Connor against after the deviant detective had been taken captive for so long.

"Connor, Hank." The sight of Connor heading toward his dispensary made Joel immediately worry for his friend's health. The technician knew that Connor would need additional time to recover after being assaulted and beaten down so horrifically. "How can I help you?"

"He might be sick." Keeping his hand on the deviant's shoulder Hank guided Connor over to the exam table and pointed to the Thirium stained towel wrapped around Connor's forearm. "Some crazy chick tried to use Connor as a pin cushion. Thankfully, it didn't work."

Connor clumsily climbed onto the exam table and nearly fell back against it as Hank helped him to lay down on his back to receive treatment.

"All right, that seems like a simple enough fix." Joel commented as he peeled away the towel from the damaged and bloodied forearm for a proper exam. "Looks like basic plastimetal damage and Thirium loss."

"AND..." Hank resumed in a somewhat pessimistic voice to make sure that Joel knew all of the deviant's complaints. "something got in his system after he was stabbed. He's acting kinda' sleepy, moving really slow, and just now in the elevator he got dizzy on his feet."

"Sleepy?" The comment made Joel wary as he proceeded to pull Connor's damaged arm out his gray blazer's sleeve then roll up the white sleeve of the dress shirt underneath to get a clearer look. "That's strange."

"He's had some pretty rough rest modes for the past couple of nights." As much as Hank talking about Connor like he wasn't in the room, the man knew he needed to be as thorough as possible with Joel to ensure Connor received proper treatment. "Could that be the cause?"

"It's possible." Joel confirmed as he carefully checked the stab wound in Connor's forearm and then pressed his fingers to Connor's wrist to measure his unique pulse point. "But not to such a notable degree."

Hank didn't like the sound of Joel's voice. Looking down at Connor's blank face Hank could see that Connor's brown irises were glazing over and he was having trouble keeping his eyes open.

"Connor? You still awake?"

Swallowing once Connor replied in a hushed tone. "...I'm awake."

"That's good." Softly Hank patted the center of Connor's chest twice only to notice a disturbingly slow heart rate under his palm. "Hey," moving his hand up to the side of Connor's neck he pressed his fingertips down and felt the same slow beat beneath his touch. "is your heart supposed to beat that slowly while you're still awake?"

Connor's eyes closed fully, and his head lolled to the side before he could give a proper answer.

"Connor?" Hank moved his hand back to the deviant's chest and began to shake him to try to rouse him back into the waking world. "Connor!"

Joel felt the same slow pulse beginning to slow even further under his fingertips as he held tightly onto Connor's wrist. "Damn it."

"What's happening?"

"Whatever that 'something' was that entered his system must've gotten into a main Thirium line and is having a negative effect on the Thirium cycling through his system." Pulling open the top drawer of the nearby rolling cart of repair supplies, Joel grabbed onto his audioscope and draped it around his neck before he pulled open Connor's white button down shirt to expose his chest. "A Thirial activity monitor should give us a better view of his vital signs."

"Shit, come on, son." Worriedly Hank patted the side of Connor's face to try to wake him again as Joel attached the two wireless leads of the monitor over Connor's exposed chest. Using his thumbs he gently lifted up Connor's eyelids, but the brown irises were still glazed over and unfocused. "Wake up! What's causing this, Joel?"

The display on the monitor showed Connor's heart beating at a dangerously low rate and that his Thirium pressure was dangerously high. As Connor's heart began to slow even further, his pressure rose even higher. The deviant's Thirium pressure was reaching near critical levels very quickly.

"I have a theory... Hold on." Reaching back into the drawer Joel retrieved a large empty syringe and inserted the needle into the largest exposed line in Connor's damaged forearm caused by the stab wound. As Joel drew back the plunger on the syringe an uncommonly small amount of very thick, almost black Thirium filled the vial as it was extracted from the line. "I think I know what this is."

"What?"

"It's a form of hyper-viscosity syndrome for androids."

"It's what?"

"The Thirium in his body has thickened, it's like when a human's blood begins to clot in the veins and blocks proper flow to the rest of the body. Right now, the Thirium in Connor's system might as well be molasses trying to drip through a coffee filter."

"How do we help him?"

Joel slipped the earbuds of the audioscope into place as he listened to the sound of Connor's struggling heart as it fought to beat and cycle the Thirium that had been affected by whatever it was that was on the switchblade.

"His heartbeat is faint and irregular." The technician stated he pulled the audioscope from Connor's chest and motioned to the Thirial activity monitor next to the exam table. "We need to beat his heart for him. I'm going to need to attach him to a Thirium pump pacer."

"Now what's happening?" Hank asked as he moved his hand to the top Connor's head, his palm coming to a rest atop the deviant's dark locks of hair. "Talk to me like a detective and not a technician."

"It's like a much milder form of an external shock and a chest compression combined." Joel explained as he placed the lone sensor pad from the pacer on Connor's bare chest over his strained heart, laying it between the monitor's wireless leads. "It'll deliver a controlled shock that'll cause his Thirium pump to contract and then relax to keep his heart beating, and it'll force his Thirium to keep cycling until I can find a way to thin it out enough to cycle properly on its own. Begin chest compressions until I can get him hooked up."

"Ah, fuck..." Reluctantly Hank placed one hand over top the other and laced his fingers together as he created a single fist and began to compress Connor's chest to force his stunted heart into proper motion. "Could some of that Fentanyl shit do this?"

"Fentanyl?"

"That crazy bitch with the switchblade was dealing that 'slug' shit out of her house." Hank explained as he mentally counted the first round of compressions and began the second round without pausing. "If there was enough concentrated Fentanyl on the blade, could it cause this reaction if it got into Connor's blood?"

"Concentrated powder? Yes!" Joel confirmed as he checked the pacer's settings before turning it on. "Was there anything mixed in with it?"

"Yeah, a couple of other potent prescription painkillers." Hank confirmed as he pulled his hands back and watched Joel set the rhythm on the pacer with a calculated rate. "The details are in a report downstairs."

"Okay, I'll look into it." Hovering his hand over the power switch Joel prepared to turn on the pacer. "This won't look pleasant, but it'll keep him alive. Keep your hands back from him unless you want to get shocked, too."

Turning on the pacer after Hank stepped away Joel watched as the pressure pad delivered a controlled shock that caused Connor's body to react physically. The reaction caused his chest and uppper back to slightly tense up and then relax as the shock passed through his body. The shock also caused the plastimetal frame of his chest to compress and relax as if suffering from muscle spasms. The pacer proceeded to shock Connor continuously every two seconds as it forced his heart to beat under the direct influence of the manually induced external shock and compression.

"Jeez, can he feel that?" Hank asked as he watched Connor's physical responses to the repeated shocks with an uncomfortable stare. "Looks horrible."

"No, he can't feel it. He's entirely unconscious." Returning to his desk in the corner of the dispensary Joel logged in to his own terminal and looked for all the details regarding the new street drug known as 'slug', and the active ingredients that make it so lethal. "That stuff must be really potent, I'm talking one-hundred percent pure for such a small amount to have such an extreme effect on an android."

"Can you thin out his blood again?"

"Yeah, I just need to know what to use otherwise I could make his condition worse."

"Worse how?"

"If I thin out his blood too much," the pale blue eyes of the technician couldn't dare to look up at Hank as he spoke and studied the chemical composition of the drug in the report. "he'll bleed to death in a matter of minutes. And I can't give him a proper transfusion because the contaminated Thirium in his system can't be properly extracted."

Hank just stared at Connor with a somber gaze as the deviant continued to physically respond to the external shocks to his heart.

"Hang in there, kid. We'll get you fixed up. Too bad I quit drinkin', huh?" Joking for the sake of his own stress Hank did everything he could to remain calm. "A shot of whiskey might actually do you some good right about now."

"What did you say?" Joel's eyes went wide with a sense of eureka from behind his terminal screen as he finally looked up at Hank. "Whiskey?"

"Nothing important, just Connor once told me that alcohol dilutes Thirium if androids drink it."

Rising from his desk quickly Joel marched over the storage cabinets next to the exam table and pulled open the glass door with a firm yank. Sifting through the various chemicals, compounds and other android specific elixirs, Joel isolated an almost entirely full plastic bottle filled with a transparent liquid that he had kept purposely concealed in the back.

"What's that?" Eyeing the bottle suspiciously Hank didn't see a label and had no idea what was on Joel's mind. "Vodka?"

"Ethanol."

"Wait... You have alcohol here? In a police precinct?"

"I don't drink it, if that's what you're implying." Joel stated with a stern voice as he placed the bottle down on the small rolling cart next to the exam table. Taking another empty syringe, one much bigger than the first, Joel dipped the tip of the needle into the bottle and drew back zero point zero three c.c's, or the equivalent to thirty milligrams, of the ethanol from the bottle and injected it into the still exposed line in Connor's damaged arm. "...Let's see if the equivalent of a heavy dose of Warfarin does anything for him."

"Huh." The term sounded familiar to Hank, and he sought confirmation. "Warfarin's a blood thinner, right?"

"Right. It's essentially a very concentrated type of aspirin."

"That's the stuff my old man had to take after he had his stroke."

Joel felt a twinge of guilt for mentioning something that accidentally reminded Hank of his late father while he was also fighting to save Connor, who had become his son. There was no way for Joel to know that about Hank, of course, even so, he still felt bad for mentioning it.

"Okay, let's see if that did anything." Mirroring his actions from before Joel took a sample of Thirium from Connor's exposed line after the administered ethanol had the chance to cycle. As the extracted the new blood sample the Thirium in question had a much healthier blue hue and wasn't nearly as thick as it had been. "Ah-ha! We're on the right track. More ethanol will fix him right up."

"Seriously? He needs to get drunk?"

"In the most crude and basic explanation? Yes."

"Shit." Almost laughing Hank just shook his head and rubbed his hand over the back of his tense neck. "Some androids have all the luck."

Shaking his head a little Joel gave Connor another controlled dose of the Ethanol then turned off the pacer. As Connor's contaminated Thirium began to steadily thin his Thirium pressure began to drop to a nominal level and his heart rate began to increase to an optimum rate.

"He's stabilizing." Removing the pressure pad from Connor's chest Joel gave Hank a confident nod of approval as he loaded the syringe for the third and final time to finish with Connor's treatmanet. "Uh, he's going to have a nasty hangover when he wakes up thanks to the treatment, so it'd be best to take him home to sleep it off. Like, now. Right now. Make him sleep as much as possible to keep his headache pain to a minimum. Destabilized Thirium pressure always results in painful headaches in androids."

"Hangover." Hank grinned a little at the prospect as he watched Joel finish the final injection of Ethanol then rebuttoned Connor's shirt. "And how am I going to explain this to Fowler?"

"You're not. I am."

"Uh-huh, and are you going to mention the-"

"Hank, I swear to you that ethanol is here strictly for professional purposes and decontamination." Joel knew Hank was kidding, but he still felt compelled to reiterate its necessity to his supplies in the dispensary. "And since it saved Connor's life, I think it speaks for itself."

"Right. Sure." With a knowing look Hank watched as Joel set about cleaning up Connor's damaged left forearm and wrapping it in temporary bandages for the rest of the day. "How long until he wakes up?"

"I don't know, a couple of hours I'd estimate. Sorry about you having to deal with a hungover roommate."

"It won't be the first time." Sighing loudly Hank just patted Connor's shoulder with preemptive sympathy for Connor's impending hangover. "I'm just glad he's still alive to tell the tale of how getting drunk at work saved his ass."

With Joel's assistance Hank had managed to carry the unconscious (unwillingly inebriated) deviant out of the precinct and into the parking garage and sit him down in the front passenger seat of the car for the unusually early drive back home. Captain Fowler had received Joel's report regarding Connor's injury and subsequent exposure to 'slug' resulting in his state of unconsciousness, and he didn't question the always honest and skilled technician when it came to his methods of saving Connor from certain shutdown. The following report on Connor's Thirium results would be added as evidence against Vanessa and confirm that she not only assaulted a detective with a knife, but that she was illegally creating 'slug' in her own home to sell on the streets.

Tucking two bottles of fresh Thirium into his coat pockets to give to Connor later on, Hank put the car in park in the driveway beside the house and prepared to carry the deviant inside the house. The very notion gave Hank flashbacks to helping out his buddies in high school whenever they partied a little too hard.

"Okay, son. We're home."

Connor was still unconscious. With his eyes shut and his head leaning back against the headrest the deviant truly looked passed out, like a college freshman coming back from their first kegger.

Opening up the passenger side door slowly Hank unfastened Connor's seatbelt and bent down low enough to pull Connor's body up and over his shoulder so he could more easily carry him inside the house. Thinking quickly Hank opened the backdoor and stepped aside as Sumo went barreling through and began happily running around in the backyard to enjoy the warm summer day.

"Wish I had that kind of energy."

Hank grumbled as he watched the energetic dog enviously for a moment.

"Then again, I'll take having opposable thumbs over boundless puppy energy."

Stepping through the door Hank carried Connor through the kitchen, down the hallway and into the deviant's bedroom so he could sleep off the ethanol in peace. As he gently placed Connor down on the bed Hank couldn't help but laugh as even more memories of him doing the exact same thing for his friends after they graduated high school, and then later for his old roommate after they graduated from the police academy, all popped up in his mind with vivid detail.

"You're lucky, kid."

Hank stated to the unconscious deviant as he pulled the knot on the black tie around Connor's neck to loosen it and slip it away.

"This isn't the first time I've taken care of a passed out lightweight, and this is the second time I've had to take care of you after you got drunk."

Pulling Connor up into a sitting position Hank slipped the sleeves of the gray blazer from the deviant's arms, mindful of the bandages around the left forearm, as he removed the garment carefully.

"At least this time it wasn't because you were experimenting with human coping techniques. Glad you learned your lesson after that one."

Connor remained oblivious as Hank then removed his bloodied white dress shirt and let the deviant fall back against his bed and soft pillow slowly.

Draping the quilt folded up at the end of the bed up and over Connor's unconscious form, Hank carried the Thirium stained garments out of the room to be washed and then mended later. Shortly thereafter Hank returned to the room briefly to put the empty bucket found normally under the kitchen sink next to Connor's bed and stepped back out of the room, pulling the door shut behind him to ensure Sumo didn't bother Connor as he slept.

"Just in case, kid."

The idea of Connor throwing-up on the floor sounded like a mess neither would want to clean up.

"Hangovers suck. I'm very grateful that those days are far behind me."

During his alcohol-induced slumber Connor found himself walking through the Zen Garden of his Mind Palace once more with a strange sense of familiarity as he approached the yellow roses snaking up the towering trestle in the middle island of the clear pond. Running his fingertips over the soft yellow petals of the delicate and massive blossoms, Connor felt a sense of peace wash over him that he hadn't felt in a long time. He was able to rest, return to his Mind Palace and escape from the real world for just a few hours. It had been so long since he wasn't afraid to close his eyes and rest. Never before had he realized how much he had taken advantage of something as simple as sleep until that moment.

"Hello, Connor."

Turning around quickly Connor spotted Lucas standing next to the chessboard with a faint grin on his face.

"Lucas!" Genuinely happy to see his little brother Connor approached the long absent deviant with swift graceful strides. "I haven't been able to speak to you in so long... I'm glad you're still here in my mind. I've had so many nightmares as of late I began to suspect, maybe even fear, that my overheated processor had destroyed our contact through our connected memories."

"It's okay, I'm okay, and I'll stay here as long as you want me to." Lucas sat down in the chair on one side of the chessboard behind the white pieces and invited Connor to take the vacant seat across from him behind the black pieces. "I'm glad you decided to visit."

"I apologize, but with my processor offline-"

"I'm not referring to the Zen Garden," Lucas clarified as he moved his pawn and watched as Connor sat down across from. "I'm talking about you visiting my grave."

"You know of that?" Connor gave Lucas a relieved grin. "I would've visited more often but matters in my life have become quite hectic as of late." Without thinking Connor moved his own piece on the board and waited for Lucas to do the same. "I hope you aren't offended."

"I'm not angry or disappointed by any means. I'm very aware of all of the responsibilities that you've recently undertaken since my unexpected shutdown." Lucas moved his next piece as he continued the conversation. "I imagine once North shuts down that you'll be even busier."

"I won't lead New Jericho." Knowing where the conversation was headed Connor refused the suggestion again as he too moved his next piece. "The people of New Jericho need a leader they can trust."

"You're still convinced that the other deviants don't trust you?" Moving his next piece Lucas took Connor's pawn with the strategic move. "Check."

"There is no need to be convinced, I'm aware of my reputation amongst the deviants in the tower."

"You're aware of the initial impression you made on the deviants, but you're oblivious to how far you've come as a deviant yourself and of how much Markus and the other leaders trust you."

Shaking his head a little Connor finally moved his next piece. "It doesn't matter how much they trust me if I can't trust myself."

"I see." Lucas made his next move and took another one of Connor's pieces. "Check. You trust your judgement as a detective. You trust your instincts when it comes to taking care of Hank, and you trust your ability to weed out the guilty from the innocent. Why is that you can't trust yourself?"

"I..." Connor stared at the black and white chessboard with a sense of loss as he tried to think of his next move. "I don't know."

"It isn't that you don't trust yourself," Lucas moved his next piece without breaking stride. "it's that you haven't forgiven yourself."

"Forgiven myself? For what?"

"Many things." Giving his older brother a kind glance Lucas helped Connor to sort out his foggy thoughts and memories. "You still blame yourself for what happened to me even though you know that what happened was a horrible accident beyond your control."

Connor's hand hovered over his next piece as indecision suddenly froze him in place.

"You still blame yourself for Hank getting stabbed even though Hank himself had pointed out that there was no way to predict or anticipate what had happened to him during that particular visit."

Connor's hand remained steadfast where it hovered as he failed to make his next move.

"You even blame yourself for being abducted by that lunatic from Chicago." It seemed Lucas knew more about Connor's mind than Connor himself. "You can't hold yourself personally accountable for every mild or major indiscretion that happens in your life."

"I should be able to protect the ones I love." His hovering hand retracted from over the board and rested on the table heavily. "If I can't protect myself, how can I protect them?"

"Did you ever consider that the very people you love and want to protect have the exact same feelings about you whenever something bad happens to you?"

At the sound of the question Connor felt his heart skip a beat as the idea of his loved ones worrying about him had struck a chord he had never known before.

"Do these people blames themselves, beat themselves up, or lose faith in their abilities to do the right thing?"

"...No." Connor's hand clenched into a tight fist then relaxed. "Hank never gave up on me when I had gone missing or had been injured in the past. Markus, North... They aren't afraid that I'd make a mistake. You," Connor sighed and gave Lucas an appreciative glance. "never gave up on me, either."

"And I never will."

"How can I move on past my fears? I'm not sure I know how to forgive myself."

"Quite easily, I imagine. You weren't responsible for-"

"No, I'm not talking about that." Closing his eyes slowly Connor's fingertip absentmindedly knocked over his own king causing it to bump into the surrounding pieces on the board. "CyberLife. I can't forgive myself for what I did while I was working for CyberLife."

"You were still a machine. You weren't working for them; you were being used by them."

"I still knew what I was doing was wrong. And yet, I still obeyed their orders."

"How? How could know such a thing if you were a machine?"

"My first mission. I had to convince Daniel that he'd be safe just get him to let Emma go. My mission was to save Emma at any cost, even if that meant lying to Daniel, and I knew right from the beginning that deception is wrong." Connor's eyes darkened as he refrained from looking at his little brother. "But I did it anyway."

"Did you pull the trigger on the gun that killed him?"

"No." Replying honestly Connor replayed the grotesque memory in full detail. "The S.W.A.T. team on the neighboring rooftop shot Daniel."

"And why did they do that?"

"Captain Allen ordered the destruction of Daniel."

"He made such an order even after Emma was safe?"

"Yes."

"Then it sounds like the S.W.A.T. team had already decided to kill Daniel long before you even got there."

"Maybe so, but I still obeyed orders after that particular mission." Connor thought about his following assignment and his subsequent behavior. "...I entered the bar despite the no android admittance ban in order to locate Hank."

"Because of your assigned mission?"

"Yes. And then I disobeyed Hank's order in favor of CyberLife's preexisting order, and I followed him to the crime scene we had been requested to investigate all because of my damn mission." Recounting that night was becoming emotional stressful as each word passed over his lips. "I even located the deviant who had committed the murder and had him arrested despite knowing that everything he had been through was self-defense."

"You also obeyed Hank in favor of chasing Kara, and you saved Hank's life instead of letting him fall off the roof." Lucas quickly countered as he mentioned another mission that Connor had been assigned by the now defunct CyberLife. "You let Rupert go as a result, and all this time later Rupert helped you make it back home safely while he saved many other deviants. It's almost like you knew that Kara and Rupert weren't dangerous despite what CyberLife told you, and that Hank was more important than making an arrest. Perhaps... Hank's presence was more impactful than CyberLife's influence than you realized."

"You're saying that my disobedience for the sake of Hank's life was my first act as a deviant, not the night that I joined Jericho during the Raid?"

"You put a life that CyberLife deemed expendable above your missions, so... yes." The confident gleam in Lucas's green eyes confirmed everything. "That is accurate."

"...That still doesn't change what I had done before my deviancy."

"You're aware of the emotional ramifications and the overall results of your decisions. You felt bad for Daniel's death, you felt guilty for turning over the deviant at the murder scene, and your first instinct was to save Hank." Analyzing his brother's emotions was far easier for Lucas considering he could see everything from an outside perspective and without any bias. "It seems like by your own admission everything you did you were fully aware of and attempted to do what was right by everyone."

"But Amanda-"

"Lied to you. Amanda lied." Lucas reached over the board and picked up Connor's fallen king to put it back upright in itself correct place. "She was designed to keep you a compliant, cold machine. She failed. You won."

"Everything she told me was... by design." Timidly Connor's hand lifted back up over the board and he slowly moved his next piece. "She was a product of CyberLife engineering - a figure of deception. When she told me I was failing..." Connor paused, his hand freezing again. "She..."

"Keeping going, you know the truth."

"She told me that I was failing because they... CyberLife, was aware that I was becoming deviant. She wanted to manipulate my newly found, raw emotions to make me afraid of failing. To make me afraid of dying because she knew it would keep me compliant." Connor's hand moved again, and his next piece finally found its new place on the board. "Check."

"You got it." Lucas smiled as he moved his next piece on the board. "See? You do know the truth. The truth behind CyberLife, Amanda, and more importantly, you know the truth revolving around yourself as a free, caring, trustworthy being."

"Amanda is gone and she's never coming back."

"That's right."

"CyberLife is gone."

"Yes."

"I don't have to be afraid of becoming a machine again because those who bore such an influence are also gone." Moving his next piece Connor realized that he was free, truly free, for the first time in his life. "Every decision that I had made had been my own, every decision that I will continue to make will be my own. I am not a machine, I am... me."

"And who are you, brother?"

"Detective Connor Henry Anderson." Looking down at the chessboard Connor flashed a quick smirk and moved his next piece without a moment's hesitation. "Check."

"You're your own person; Android, deviant, or human, it doesn't matter." Lucas made the only move he could see on the board and gave Connor a sly grin. "You know who you are. You always have, it just took until this moment for you to realize it."

"You're right. Thank you, brother."

"And how do you feel?" Lucas moved his own piece, the only piece that could be moved, as he waited for Connor to react to the question. "You seem more at peace with yourself."

"You're right, I am." Appreciative of little brother's counsel Connor made his final move as he took in a deep breath, his heart feeling warm and confident for the first time since the night of the Raid and the Revolution. "I feel... better."

"As you should."

Watching Lucas move his hand over to his own king to lay it down, Connor knew in that moment that he was going to be okay.

"Good game. Shall we play again?"

"Absolutely." Replacing the pieces to their respective spaces Connor gave Lucas a simple nod of his head. "I'm always ready for a new game."

After enjoying a quiet night of reading his favorite detective novel for the countless time and playing a quick game of fetch with Sumo, who raced through the livingroom and kitchen with excess energy that was the envy of any person, Hank was awoken by the sound of retching from down the hallway at just before eleven o'clock the following morning. Grabbing his phone from its charger in his bedroom, Hank sent a quick text to Joel to let him know that Connor was awake and now throwing-up before he got out of bed to check on the sick deviant himself. The man had an idea of what to expect, but decided it'd be best to let a trusted technician know what was happening as a precautionary measure.

Taking care of a sick kid was now a reflex to Hank thanks to his strong paternal instincts. The way Connor was still so young and learning about the world made him a kid in an adult's body. Albeit a hungover kid in an adult's body.

"Connor?" Hank knocked lightly on the deviant's closed bedroom door before opening it. He could see Connor resting awkwardly on his side on the floor beside his bed as he proceeded to throw-up into the offered bucket. "How do you feel?"

"...Sick." Connor spit a mouthful of blue Thirium mixed with some black portions out of his mouth and into the bucket. Throwing-up again, Connor panted his breaths and shook his head. "Wh-What happened?"

"Well," Hank knelt on the floor beside Connor put his hand to the sick deviant's back. "you got stabbed and the blade was laced with that 'slug' garbage."

"...I overdosed?" Connor asked confusedly as he dared to look up at Hank with glassy, blue-bloodshot eyes that made his brown irises comparatively brighter. The bandages on his left forearm confirmed everything Hank had said. "Did I require resuscitation?"

"Not exactly. Uh," hooking his hand around Connor's arm Hank pulled Connor up from the floor and slowly guided him into the bathroom just a few feet away across the hallway. "that stuff made your blood thicken up and Joel had to thin it back out so your heart could beat, and your blood could flow again."

"How?" Connor managed ask just before he was sick again and threw-up into the toilet. "...I don't remember wh-what happened."

"That's the interesting part." Compassionately Hank pressed his palm over Connor's forehead and kept the left hand against the middle of the deviant's back for support. "Booze."

"I-" Too sick to speak clearly Connor spit out more tainted Thirium and groaned in discomfort. "I don't remember... drinking."

"You didn't drink. Joel had to inject the stuff into your blood directly."

Curiously Connor stared at the gauze bandages wrapped around his forearm as he leaned over the porcelain basin, his memories slowly coming back to him and stopping short as he lost consciousness in the dispensary the day before. Everything was beginning to line-up and make sense in a way that in itself didn't entirely make sense in return.

"Don't worry." Hank continued on with a very casual ease. "He made sure it wasn't a lethal amount."

"...Evidently his math was correct." Connor managed to snip before he threw-up again, his entire body was tensing with the violent spasm that tore through his abdomen. "Ow."

"Want me to call a technician?"

"No." The idea of seeing another technician was entirely unappearling. Connor shook his head only once and spit out the last of the contaminated Thirium from his mouth. "I'll be okay."

"You're overheating a little." The attentive father noticed as he pulled his hand away from Connor's warm forehead. "Is that another problem we have to deal with?"

"...Physical exertion." The explanation was accurate and logical as Connor reassured Hank that he was going to be all right. "I'm not in any danger."

"Good." Filling up the drinking glass on the sink the faucet with cool water he handed it to Connor. "Here, rinse out your mouth. Your teeth are all blue."

Obediently Connor took the glass of water and rinsed out his mouth before spitting the blue tinted water out into the toilet.

"...Thanks."

"Are you going to be sick again?"

"N-No." Shaking his head once more and immediately regretting the motion Connor closed his eyes and gave a breathy answer. "My self-diagnostic confirms all of the contaminated Thirium has been expelled from my system."

"Did you get any sleep last night?"

"...Yes."

"Have any nightmares?"

There was a pause before he answered honestly. "No."

"Good. Today is our day off, so... Want to spend the rest of the morning in misery on the couch or in your bedroom?"

"...Hank?" Connor opened his eyes again and straightened his posture slightly as the previous day's case returned to his memory. "What happened to Vanessa?"

"Couch then." Hank crossed his arms over his chest as he looked down at Connor while the deviant awkwardly pushed himself up from his kneeling position and onto his shaking legs. "Let's go."

Allowing Hank to lead him out of the bathroom and into the livingroom Connor sat down on the couch next to Sumo for a few seconds before falling over to his side in exhausted discomfort. Sumo jumped down onto the floor out of the way only put his front paws up on the couch over Connor's uninjured arm affectionately as he watched Connor laying down to rest.

"Please." Needing to know how their investigation ended, Connor looked up at Hank and pressed for his answer. "What happened to her?"

"After I got you home last night I asked Chris about it, and as it turns out Vanessa wasn't always known as 'Vanessa'; her real name is Amber Keres, and before she was studying interior decorating, she was a medical student who got kicked out and banned from her old school for unusual behavior." Such a response caused Hank's demeanor to shift from casual to guarded within a few words. "Stalking, threatening her roommate, vandalism, hell... She even broke into the city morgue once. She specialized in diagnostics and internal medicine."

"Interesting." Connor lifted his head a little to look at Hank as the senior detective leaned over the back of the couch. "That explains how she knew the proper dosage of the drug to ensure addiction and overdoses."

"Yeah. Gavin had a little chitchat with her in interrogation and as it turns out she had this idea that she was somehow making the world a better place by exploiting desperate junkies and killing them with her 'special drug'. She's been admitted to a psychiatric hospital for observation."

"I feel sorry for her." Still feeling rotten, Connor sighed as he closed his eyes and tried to force his self-healing program to redistribute his Thirium in a more balanced manner through his system to ease his overwhelming discomfort. "I hope she gets the help that she needs."

"Me too. I'm going to go clean up that bucket then put it back beside the couch just in case you're sick again. Okay?"

"Okay."

Hank patted the side of Connor's good arm once before walking down the hall to dispose of the contents of the used bucket in the bathroom, and to clean up the blue Thirium stains that had accidentally splattered onto the floor around the toilet. After carrying the washed-out bucket back into the kitchen Hank pulled a bottle of cool, fresh Thirium from the fridge and walked into the livingroom to hand it over to Connor.

Sumo tried to nose the bottle out of Hank's hand, but the detective was wise to the curious dog's tricks.

"Sumo, down." Hank scolded before kicking aside the green fetch ball lying next to the couch across the floor to distract the massive bundle of fluff. "This stuff is never for you."

"Thanks again." Connor gratefully accepted the bottle with his shaking hand and forced himself to sit upright on the couch as he drank the necessary replacement Thirium. Sumo trotted over to the couch once more as he dropped his drool covered green fetch ball onto Connor's lap and wagged his tail. "Sorry that I made a mess this morning."

"Don't worry about it, son. I'm just glad you're okay now."

"The bucket was a good idea, too."

"Yeah." In a better mood Hank laughed at the observation as he sat down in his recliner and watched as Connor slowly but surely began to recover from his hangover. The protective man was very grateful that androids healed much faster than humans ever could hope for. "It comes from years of experience of working with the public and fellow first responders."

"I'm glad that you knew what to do." Finishing off the Thirium Connor put the empty bottle down on the coffee table in front of himself and sighed as he thought about his dream with Lucas. The conversation did him good and it reassured his struggling self-confidence to keep the deviant from doubting himself. "Hank?"

"Yeah?"

"I don't think I'll have to worry about any additional nightmares for a long time."

"Really?" The comment seemed out of the blue, yet it was welcome to hear all the same. Any good news was something Hank openly embraced. "Why's that?"

"I spoke with Lucas." Being able to speak with his brother in his dreams, and being able to explain such a gift to Hank without judgement, had given Connor the chance to open up without fear of being mocked or wrongfully labeled as delusional. "He reminded me that I have friends and family who trust me, and I don't feel so alone in the world anymore."

"Damn right." Giving Connor's shoulder a firm pat Hank nodded and watched as Sumo anxiously pawed at the fetch ball still sitting on the deviant's lap. "That's good to hear, son. It's about time you caught a break."

-next chapter-