It was 09:57am when the city of Detroit was rocked by an unexpected and unwelcome earthquake. The initial quake lasted only two minutes, but the aftershocks had been rocking through the city and county for several hours. Many of the older buildings that marked the outskirts of Detroit and the abandoned factories of the industrial district had collapsed causing massive clouds of debris to fill the air and create an ominous fog over the still trembling city. At least a half dozen smaller, weaker bridges used by local traffic had also collapsed during the quake, while massive portions of the main roads and expressways were littered with gaping holes and cracks that made it nearly impossible for emergency crews to maneuver through.
In the heart of the city, where the mass of the populous was located, was the epicenter of the earthquake. Many homes, small businesses, shops and schools were caught in the peak of the quake. Multiple fires burned through the center of Detroit causing many citizens to flee for their lives. Many more chose to stay close to what was considered 'ground zero' of the disaster to locate missing friends and family members as they sifted through the surrounding messes.
New Jericho Tower and Skye Tower were already full of victims from the earthquake - humans and deviants alike - in an attempt to help shelter those in need. The volunteering staff was working at a frantic pace in an attempt to keep up with the sudden flow of victims and lost persons seeking help. The tower itself managed to avoid significant damage from the earthquake, a few windows on the first floor were broken and the power had been knocked out for a while, but the back-up generator kicked in without problems.
All of the police and fire stations in the city had been called out for emergency rescue, search and salvage.
Sirens blared loudly like a call to war as every available first responder raced the heart of the city to extinguish the flames of the burning buildings before the small fires grew into massive infernos and police officers helped locate missing people and reunite families. Many people were trapped inside the damaged buildings or on the expressway and bridges unable to escape under their own power. Several cars had accidentally driven directly into holes and fractures just as they were opening; the occupants never having the chance to avoid the danger, while autonomous vehicles stopped automatically in response to the emergency.
Hank and Connor were responding to vehicles trapped on the highway along with the fire departments and helping escort people to safety. Numerous people were trapped in their cars that were now pinned beneath concrete supports or wedged in massive holes courtesy of the damaged bridge and road and were in need of immediate rescue.
The two detectives had finished sending their victims off in an ambulance, glad to see all of them still alive, and being taken away from the dangerous expressway to the relative safety of the nearest hospital. Returning to their own car at the end of the damaged street Connor put his fingertips to his right temple as yet another emergency broadcast was transmitted to all of the first responders throughout the chaotic city.
"What's wrong?" Hank quickly took notice of Connor's discomfort and waited the deviant to respond. "Another rescue?"
"Correct." Connor cybernetically uploaded the address the car's poorly functioning G.P.S. as he dropped his hand from his temple. "Small structure collapse downtown. It can't be good if they're requesting a police presence."
"Tell me about it. The fire department's so overwhelmed that they have to rely on us cops to help pick up the slack when it comes to downed buildings and car accidents." Hank climbed into the car behind the steering wheel and waited for Connor to join him in the front passenger seat. "I can't even begin to imagine what we're going to be dealing with."
"Neither can I. I'm beginning to greatly prefer my choice in career to be a detective and not a firefighter."
As the car pulled away from the broken, crumbling expressway and onto the main streets, both detectives got a close up of the extent of the overall damage to the city itself. Thick smoke billowed from the damaged buildings that lined the city, while the smell of fire, dirt, oil, tar and ozone was almost intoxicating. Families were gathered together outside their homes as they took in the horrific sight of the aftermath of the earthquake and tried to think of where they should go and what they should do in order to move on.
"Acts of nature can be terrifying." Connor swallowed nervously at the sight of the smoldering carnage that was thriving in the rampaged city, and his heart ached empathetically. "It can't be easy to pick up your life after everything's seemingly been taken away."
"You have no idea."
The drive to the scene of the damaged structure went by eerily fast. With little traffic on the ruined streets the detectives seemed to arrive at the address of the affected house in record time.
"This is the place." The senior detective almost lamented as he looked for a spot to park in front of the damaged house and turn off the engine. "Looks about as rough as any other part of the city right about now."
"I hope no one's been injured." Connor scanned the structural damage to the ruined house from within the car and began to worry. The car came to a gentle stop on the street in front of the property and the two occupants stepped out of the vehicle in tandem. "The thickness of the debris is partially obstructing my scanner."
The small family home had collapsed in on itself, the roof now broken through to the first floor of the house. The front door broken outward by collapsed beams and the first floor windows were shattered by the impact. Glass and wooden splinters littered the yard where a single person stood outside in absolute shock at the sight of their once beloved family home.
"Hello?" Hank walked away from the car and saw a woman running from the house and toward the street seeking help. "Detroit Police."
"Please help! Help my son!" She ran toward the senior detective and grabbed onto his arms in desperate grip. She looked as if she was about to collapse right alongside her ruined home. "Jimmy! He's inside!"
"Where?"
"H-He was in his bedroom when the roof came down from an aftershock!" She explained in a shaking voice. "I didn't think he was in danger, I thought everything was over!"
"It's okay. It's not your fault."
Connor joined Hank at the side of the car already preconstructing a route into the house to find the missing boy. "Where's his bedroom?"
"Second floor!" Turning away from Hank the woman pointed to her son's bedroom window to direct Connor accordingly. "His room is in the eastern corner."
"Okay, I'll find him." Connor made his way toward the house, careful of the weakened structure, as he walked over the unstable property to reach the already broken open front door. "Stay back here where it's safe."
"Come on." Hank gently pulled the woman's hands from his arms and addressed her calmly. "He will find Jimmy, I promise. Wait out here and stay by the car, it's the safest place right now."
The woman wrapped her arms around her chest as she stood back, shaking with fear and anticipation as the two detectives entered the destroyed building that was once her home to locate her trapped son. The absolute fear of losing her son had shaken the woman far more than any earthquake ever could.
"This is a potential way inside." Pulling debris loose from the doorway Connor managed to slip through the narrow opening and toward the staircase. "I'll find him and hand him out to you."
"Hold up, I don't want you getting caught on anything." Hank saw how tightly packed the house had become with debris, overturned furniture and broken walls, and felt his stomach knot. "There's a towrope in the trunk, we can use it as a guide-line."
"Hank, I don't need-"
"You, don't. But I do." The man challenged with a terse tone. "Are you going to ignore an order from a senior officer?"
"Of course not, but time is of the essence."
"Trust me, kid. I know. Just wait a few seconds and I'll get the rope."
Nodding as Hank returned to the street Connor looked up at the littered staircase that was partially buried under the collapsed roof as he stood in the caved in foyer of the once loving home. It'd be difficult to navigate the ruined home, but not impossible.
"Jimmy? Can you hear me?" The deviant called out calmly and loudly for the missing boy. "We're here to help you!"
No answer.
"Here." Hank's hand reached through the narrow opening with a rope and passed it over to Connor. "Tie yourself off."
"We're looking for one person, correct?" Connor confirmed as he tied the line around his waist and pulled tight to secure the line to his person. "I don't want to overlook anyone by mistake. My scanner isn't fully operational due to the damaged powerlines and weakened internet signals in the city."
"Yeah." Hank took a deep breath trying to keep his mind focused on the job and away from the idea of a child being lost in a disaster. "We're just looking for Jimmy."
"I called out for Jimmy already, but I didn't hear anyone reply."
"Keep trying." Paling a little Hank immediately loathed the idea of a young child being killed in the wake of the disaster. "Call again."
"I will do so." Mindful of his footing Connor slowly climbed the staircase, stepping over broken timber, shingles, nails, insulation and glass as he ascended. "Jimmy? Jimmy, it's the police department. We're here to get you out of the house."
A small voice, no older than seven years of age, finally responded from somewhere unknown within the depths of the destroyed house. "...Help!"
"Jimmy?" Connor followed the voice to the closed door of a room in the Eastern corner of the house. "Jimmy, are you in there?"
"Help! The door's stuck!"
"Okay, stand back. Get away from the door, I'm going to knock it down." Connor waited a few seconds for Jimmy to react and get back before he gave a strong kick to the door just below its knob. The direct strike forced the door open with a loud 'thud'. "Jimmy?"
A scared young boy ran out of his messy bedroom and toward Connor with his arms reaching wildly for his rescuer. "I want out! I want my mom!"
"I'll get you outside. Your mom is waiting for you."
Connor picked Jimmy up from the ground and held him up against his chest with both arms. Carrying the child was like second nature to Connor and he knew how to keep the boy safe and calm as he walked.
"Are you hurt?" He glanced inside Jimmy's bedroom and was both surprised and relieved to see that the roof's collapse didn't damage the small boy's room, it only jammed the door shut. "I can assist you if you're hurt."
Jimmy shook his head 'no' as he wrapped his arms tightly around Connor's neck and buried his face against the deviant's chest.
"Are you sure?" Connor asked again as he ran a biometric scan over the small boy and found him to be relatively unscathed. "It's okay to admit it if you're hurt."
Jimmy nodded his head as he continued to tightly hold on to his rescuer.
"Okay. Let's go."
Retracing his steps, mindful of the rope tied around his waist, Connor descended the stairs with Jimmy safely in his arms. As he put his weight on the first floor at the bottom of the staircase, Connor heard the unsettling and all too distinct sound of the weakened floorboards creaking from stress.
"This should be fine." He said aloud, more to comfort himself than Jimmy. "We just have to move slowly... That's all."
"Connor?" Hank could barely see his partner in the narrow opening of the damaged doorway, but he did hear his voice. "Did you find him?"
"Yes." The rescuing deviant confirmed that Jimmy had been located. "He's here and he's okay."
"That's great, son!" The worried father and detective let out the breath he didn't realize he had been holding at the good news. "Jimmy, we're going to get you outside. Just hang on!"
Jimmy looked through the door and stared at Hank's face as Connor carried him to safety. "Is my mom there?"
"She's outside by the street." Hank reached into the small opening to take Jimmy from Connor's arms, mindful of the surrounding debris that encircled the house's only escape route. "C'mon, I'll take you to her. I'm a cop, too."
Connor knelt down slightly to hand Jimmy off to Hank through the narrow opening. The shifting weight on the floor caused the boards beneath Connor's feet to creak loudly before suddenly snapping from the strain. Before he could react, Connor's right leg fell through the jagged hole that opened in the floor beneath him causing him to involuntarily let out a sharp groan of pain in response.
"Gah!"
"Connor?" Hank pulled Jimmy out of the doorway to safety just as Connor fell through the floor. The guide-line in his hand was pulled taut as Connor fell partially through the floor and Hank knew that his partner was in trouble. "You all right?"
"Y-Yes. However, my leg is trapped." The deviant responded quickly as he ran a quick self-diagnostic to check for damage and confirmed his situation through pain gritted teeth as the incredible discomfort in his trapped leg hit him like a red hot flame. "...I'm going to need a little help getting back out."
"Okay, I'll be back." The senior detective reluctantly dropped his end of the lifeline as he quickly scooped up Jimmy and took him over to his scared awaiting mother out by the parked car. "Hold tight!"
While the frightened mother was tearfully reunited with her son outside of the now destroyed house Hank scrambled to the trunk of the car to retrieve a crowbar used for automotive repairs and getting into locked residences during an emergency. In his mind having to pull his trapped partner from a collapsing house more than qualified as an emergency at that moment.
Still inside the house Connor did his best to ignore the searing pain that was now shooting up his trapped leg. Running a scan through the floor Connor could see that a sharp, jagged edge of a snapped board had penetrated his leg above his knee and was holding him in place. It was also dangerously close to an ascending Thirial line running down the limb. Movement was practically impossible. The first floor of the house was five feet above a small crawlspace that extended the entire area of the house, meaning Connor couldn't put any weight on his trapped leg in attempt to gain leverage and stand up, and he could just pull his leg free without causing serious internal trauma in the process.
"Damn it. I need help to move."
From above more loud ominous creaking echoed through the destroyed home and put the trapped deviant on edge. The collapsed ceiling's weight was too much for the already damaged second floor of the house to hold up and the structure was buckling quickly. Board by board the floor began giving way to the weight and mounting damage. Splinters from the breaking boards poked through the torn carpet while jagged pieces protruded upward like rocky peaks ascending from a canyon.
"Hank?" Connor called out for the senior detective as he tried his best to free his trapped leg without causing more damage to the affected limb. He could feel the blue blood from a large laceration in his leg already soaking through his pant leg at an alarming rate. "Have you returned?"
"I'm right here." Hank was back at the front door with the crowbar at his side and his end of the lifeline firmly in his grip once more. "What's going on in there?"
"The second floor's about to give out. Be careful."
"All right, I'll get to you." Reacting quickly Hank used the crowbar to un-wedge the uneven timber that obstructed the front doorway and clear a pathway to his trapped partner. "I'm right here, kid."
"No, get back! The floor's going to-"
A thunderous 'groan' echoed through the house as the weakened support structures finally gave way. The second floor, along with the ceiling, all collapsed inward destroying the first floor as the two layers fell downward without mercy. The sudden impact was enough to knock Hank off his feet and crouch down on the front porch to protect his face and head by wrapping his arms up and around himself protectively.
A cloud of dust and crumbled drywall filled the air in a smothering mass as the entire house imploded with Connor still trapped inside. Alone.
As the heavy dust settled in the air; the cloud rising and falling from the ruins of the now collapsed house, Hank slowly sat upright on the littered porch and looked toward the now completely blocked off door of the house. His ears were ringing from the near deafening commotion that shook the entire property. The stunned detective was only vaguely aware of a muffled voice calling out to him from a distance.
Turning to face the source of the sound Hank saw the mother through stinging dry eyes, kneeling on the ground with Jimmy wrapped protectively in her arms.
"H-Hey?" She shouted from where she was kneeling on the grass. "Are you hurt?"
"No!" Hank was relieved to see both the mother and Jimmy were safe, unaffected and uninjured in the violent implosion. Carefully he wiped the dirt from his eyes with the back of his coat sleeve as he fought to not choke on the dust in the air. "I'm all right... Stay back!"
Looking back at the house Hank leaned forward and rested on his knees as he carefully put his hand against the destabilized front door's frame.
"Connor?" Hank called out as he stifled a dry cough. "...C-Connor, can you hear me?"
There was no response from Connor only another 'groan' from the interior of the destroyed structure. Grabbing his radio from his belt Hank called into dispatch for help, reporting both the structure collapse and Connor being trapped inside of it.
"Connor? Talk to me!"
Hank called out for his partner again but still received no answer as he coughed up some of the choking dust.
"I'm going to get you out of there, just hold on!"
Sifting through the broken timber, drywall and glass on the porch, Hank retrieved his crowbar and proceeded to meticulously pry the new obstructing debris from the doorway. Remaining mindful of the weakened condition of the environment Hank removed the largest but loose broken support beams, unsure if the firmly wedged beams were the only thing keeping the house from collapsing into a flat mass of destruction.
"Just hang on for me, son. I'm coming to get you."
The world seemed to be spinning all around him as he struggled to take in a full breath. Connor felt another sharp pain in his trapped leg as well as a heavy weight pressing down on him across his chest and his upper arms. It was dark within the ruins of the collapsing house, but Connor knew it was still daytime as his internal chronometer gave him the correct time of day despite what his visual processors were telling him. Rays of sunlight beamed through the large gaps and splits in the collapsed house in an ethereal manner as if beckoning him to make his escape, all while the dust particles danced in the sunlight like gray snowflakes caught in a rogue updraft.
As his senses came back to him and his intracranial processor rebooted fully, Connor became increasingly aware of his predicament. Dozens of red error warnings obstructed his vision as Klaxons sounded off inside his mind. Dismissing each warning and disabling the warning sound Connor fought to use his other senses to analyze his situation and brush aside his cybernetic reflexes in favor of his more deviant instincts.
Slowly the pieces fell into place as Connor remembered exactly where he was and how he came to be trapped: After he fell through the floor and heard the house beginning its collapse, he had instinctively gotten as low as he could on the floor, laying on his right side, to avoid as much harm as possible. He curled up into a ball and used his hands to protect his head and neck out of his steadily developing instinct for self-preservation kicking in.
"...H-Hank?"
Still unable to pull his trapped leg free of the jagged hole in the floor and unable to sit upright, all Connor could do was wait for help. Feeling tired and weak the deviant did his best to keep calm and keep his breathing controlled to prevent overheating or ventilation blockage from the heavy dust in the air. The relentlessly dusty, smoky air swirling around wasn't going to make it easy. Having heavy weight compressing his chest was going to make it that much harder.
Cybernetically Connor tried to assess his condition via self-diagnostic, but he was feeling too weak to perform the simple task. He was too tired and was in need of immediate assistance.
"My leg."
Connor suddenly remembered the trapped and damaged limb. When he initially fell through the floor he had felt his leg bleeding from the jagged board stabbing into the front of the limb and knew that he had been sliced open very deeply by the same floorboard. He's been bleeding ever since.
"I need... help."
Fumbling his hands through the multiple pieces of surrounding debris Connor attempted to check the severity of his injury but couldn't see or feel anything. His range of movement was severely limited, and his scanner was being disrupted by his system reducing power as a means of keeping his other biocomponents functioning.
"Hank, hurry."
Calling out in a weak voice Connor hoped his partner would be able to find him in time and free him of the house before it was too late.
"Please, I need your help."
From outside the house Hank managed to pull loose a large portion of jagged drywall from the door frame and finally regain entry to the destroyed structure. A massive cloud of dust wafted into the air causing him to cough as he continued his search for Connor, who was still buried beneath the rubble of the mostly collapsed house. As the dust particles drifted out of the air toward the ground, the beams of sunlight shined brightly, illuminating the disheveled interior of the ruined house to give the senior detective some type of bearing to follow.
"Connor?"
Hank called out again, his voice nearly hoarse from dryness. Tugging on the lifeline that he hoped was still wrapped around the deviant's waist Hank called out for the deviant as loudly as he dared.
"Connor, can you hear me?"
From beneath the heavy pile of broken boards, drywall and support beams Connor could barely hear Hank's voice and responded as loudly as he could to guide his partner to his position.
"Hank?" Connor hated how pitifully weak his voice sounded as he tried to respond. "Hank!" He answered even louder, his throat was raw from the choking dust and his chest sore from the immense weight nearly crushing him. "I'm here!"
"Connor!" Hank heard his partner's voice, feeble as it was, and zeroed-in on Connor's exact location beneath the ruins. "Keep talking! Guide me to you."
"Here." Connor directed as he yelled out painfully followed by a brief coughing fit. Tugging on his own end of the line Connor confirmed that he had heard Hank and was trying to direct him to his current location. "I'm... right here."
"Hold on, I think I see you." Climbing through the maze of jagged boards and smoky air Hank knelt down next to the massive pile of debris where he had heard Connor speaking and where the rope had led him. "You're right here?"
Weakly Connor tried to reach his hand out toward Hank, but his range of motion was too limited by the crushing boards over his arms. Seeing some movement from beneath the rubble Hank moved additional boards away finally revealing Connor's pale face beneath the rubble.
"Connor! Are you all right?" The senior detective asked as he pressed his hands against Connor's face and neck, checking the deviant's overall alertness. "Talk to me."
"Y-Yes. I'm just a little banged up." Connor lied instinctively, not wanting Hank to worry about him until after they were both to safety. "Mild Thirium loss."
Hank moved a few more boards and large chunks of drywall away from Connor revealing more of his partner's injured form. "Where are you hurt?"
"M-My... right leg." It was hard to deny that he had in fact been damaged during the collapse and that his leg needed technical attention. "It's been lacerated."
The damaged house began 'groaning' again as the hectic interior collapse weakened the house's foundation further. Every movement made could easily shift the house into an unbalanced death trap, and the two detectives wouldn't stand a chance.
"I'm going to look at your leg, don't move." Hank kept his cool despite the increasing danger all around him. Noting that Connor's face was bleeding slightly and some of his artificial skin had been scraped away didn't help matters much. "I might be able to carry you out of here."
"You can't." Connor nearly gasped as the weight on his chest was becoming unbearable. The house continued to shift unsteadily and loudly as the house continued to collapse downward. "It's trapped... inside the floor."
"Hold on, shit..." Hank immediately put his hands on the heavy broken beams still laying across Connor's chest and arms and carefully lifted them up and away from Connor at long last. "Can you breathe?"
"Y-Yeah, thanks." Connor took in a deep but controlled breath and coughed as the crushing weight finally lessened. "That's better."
Resuming the dig Hank moved more debris aside steadily freeing Connor's trapped body in the process. As he removed the heavy debris from Connor's legs he noticed a pool of dark blue blood forming around Connor's trapped leg. From his knee down Connor's leg had fallen through the floor and had been cut open by the jagged boards that lined the hole.
"All right... I think I can pull your leg out without causing any damage." As a devoted father Hank's primary concern was Connor's wellbeing. "But you have to let me do all the work, don't try to help."
"Very well." Connor shut his soulful brown eyes and put his arm under his head. "I... I trust you."
"Stay awake." Hank didn't like how lethargic Connor's voice was beginning to sound as the deviant slowly closed his eyes. "Keep your eyes open."
"I am."
"Okay then. Let's do this..." Carefully Hank put both of his hands around Connor's knee and quickly felt all the warm blue blood that saturated the pant leg. As he carefully worked to free Connor's leg the house continued to groan and shudder on its foundation. "Shit!"
"Hank?" Connor suddenly propped himself upright on his elbows. "You should get out of here before-"
"NOT without you." Hank quickly cut Connor off mid sentence. "You'd never leave anyone behind, why would I? I'm going to need to use the crowbar though." The man continued to speak calmly in a monotone voice as he reached for the necessary tool just a few inches away. "It shouldn't take too long."
"The house is coming down." Connor fell backward off his elbows onto the floor, his strength almost entirely spent. Feeling the cold metal crowbar prying into the wooden floor around his leg Connor stared up at the weakened ceiling and watched for any and all sign of further collapse. "I don't want you to-"
"Got it!" Hank successfully released Connor's leg after breaking the hole open wider with the strong crowbar. The blue blood soaked Connor's pant leg all the way down to his shoes and dripped onto the littered dirt beneath. "Come on, let's get you out of here."
Connor could tell by Hank's voice that his leg injury was worse than he realized and would need immediate repairs. "Is it bad?"
"I really can't tell, but there's a lot of blood." Slowly Hank leaned down and helped Connor to sit upright again. "Lean against me."
"Right." Connor wrapped his arm around Hank's neck and shifted his weight accordingly from his bad leg to his good leg. "I'm ready."
Working together Hank and Connor stood up on the uneven floorboards and struggled to keep their balance together. Connor grimaced as the pain in his leg began to intensify, his pallor paling even further as his Thirium pressure began to fall and his power level shifted away from keeping his artificial skin fully generated.
"I don't think I can walk out of here." Connor's voice was heavy with fatigue as he began to wobble on his only good leg. "I don't have the energy."
Echoing all around the duo the house continued its ominous 'groan' as the interior threatened to collapse completely.
"I got you. Let me do all the work, son."
Moving quickly Hank stooped down and pulled Connor up over his shoulders instead into a fireman's carry. Shifting his own weight to compensate for Connor's added near deadweight, Hank walked over the debris and through the damaged door to freedom. He kept one arm wrapped around Connor's uninjured leg and took considerable efforts to keep the injured leg from sustaining any more damage as he moved.
Stepping into the bright sunlight through the dusty air was almost blinding for the two detectives as they escaped the dark ruins. It was a struggle for Hank to keep his footing on the uneven porch littered with debris, let alone balance with Connor over his shoulders. Trudging off the porch and toward the car parked along the street Hank heard the last pitiful groans of the house as it finally collapsed entirely behind him. The senior detective turned in time to watch the destroyed home implode into a burst of dust and smoke, the mournful 'groans' of the twisting boards snapping loudly sounded off like the house's swansong.
The terrified mother and Jimmy stayed by the street as Hank had told them and they promptly turned away from the sight of their former home collapsing and embraced each other tightly in fear and relief. No one else had been harmed when the house finally succumbed to damage and collapsed entirely.
"That was close." Hank breathed heavily as he turned back toward the car. "Glad we got out in time."
Connor didn't say anything as he remained slumped over Hank's shoulders. He was too tired to speak.
"Connor?" Hank called out as he knelt down on the grass by the car and lowered his partner down to the ground. "You still with me?"
"Yes." Connor sounded out of breath as he spoke. He suddenly trailed off as he shut his soulful brown eyes. "Just- I just..."
"Just what?" Hank slipped off his heavy dark coat to remove the dusty garment and get slightly cooled off. "Talk to me, kid."
"H-Hank." The deviant never opened his eyes as he tried to respond. His voice was now carrying an electronic echo. He barely even reacted to Hank as the senior detective pulled open his deviant's dust covered gray blazer to run his hands along Connor's upper chest as if checking for fractured ribs. "...I'm tired."
"Hold on. I'm going to get a technician out here." Knowing his best friend and son was still in danger Hank moved quickly as he grabbed the radio from his belt to request a technician to the scene. His years as a seasoned detective with emergency first training told Hank that Connor was beginning to suffer from hypovolemic shock: Blood loss. Or in an android's case insipid shock from Thirium loss. "It'll be okay, son."
Connor muttered a halfhearted response that Hank couldn't understand.
"I'm going to cut your pant leg open and check out the injury, okay?"
This time Connor didn't respond, all he could do was cough weakly and move his hand slightly to indicate to Hank that he had heard him.
"Okay. Here we go..." Taking careful steps not to jostle the wound in Connor's leg Hank tore open the wet, blood soaked denim and exposed the deep, long gash that marred Connor's leg. Sapphire blue blood had saturated his jeans from the knee down to the deviant's shoe, as a single deep laceration stretched from the interior side of Connor's knee, down along the calf and stopped just above the ankle. "Are you in any pain?"
"N-No." Connor answered weakly as he began shivering. "I'm a l-little numb."
"Son?" Noticing the trembling voice right away Hank pressed his fingertips to the side of Connor's neck to check his unique pulse point while also feeling how cool his paled artificial skin had become. "You're going into shock." Hank picked up his dark coat, shook off the dust from the back of the garment, and draped it over Connor's upper body in an attempt to keep him warm. "It's not much, but it'll help until the technicians get here."
"Th-Thanks." The damaged deviant coughed again and took in a deep calming breath. "I appreciate it."
"Be still." Hank was trying to remain in control after everything that went down, but having his best friend and son injured was starting to push him to his emotional breaking point. "I'm going to clean up your leg and get it wrapped up as best as I can."
Taking the first aid kit from the trunk of the car Hank cleaned any and all bits of debris from Connor's leg by pouring some rubbing alcohol over the wound. A large amount of drywall dust and wooden chips flooded out of the wound and onto the grass around Connor's knee in a grim puddle. Using a wad of sterile white gauze, Hank wrapped Connor's leg in the protective bandage to keep it clean and to try to apply some pressure to the bleeding wound.
"You okay?" Hank asked as he rested his palm over Connor's chest to feel his Thirium pump's beat and how well his ventilation biocomponents were functioning. "I didn't have any incrassation compound in the trunk, so I used alcohol. I hope it didn't burn you."
"...No." Connor sightly turned his head, trying to face his partner, as he forced an uneasy grin to his face. "...The rubbing alcohol didn't harm me."
"Good. Try not to move, I need to check something." Bending down he pressed his ear to Connor's chest to listen to what was happening inside his partner's previously crushed chassis. His Thirium pump was beating strong in a normal rhythm but his ventilation biocomponents sounded congested and crackled a little with each breath. "Sounds like you breathed in some dust."
Connor coughed again, this time he winced in pain as he coughed, but he didn't admit his discomfort. "...C-Correct."
"Easy, kid." Sitting upright Hank kept his hand on Connor's chest to monitor his breathing and heartbeat. "The ambulance should be here soon. You're still with me, right?"
"Y-Yeah." Coughing again, much harder than before, Connor partially opened his glazed over soulful brown eyes. "I'm still here."
"That's good. I guess you look worse than you feel."
"Th-Then I must look really terrible."
"Still being a smartass, so that's a good sign." Hank grinned at the sharp comment. "Just take in deep, slow breaths to help clear out your lungs a little. Can you run a self-diagnostic?"
Connor's eyes briefly closed again as he tried and failed to initiate the program. "...Negative."
"What about your vitals? Can you give me an idea of how badly you're hurt?"
"One moment..." Taking a moment to check through the numerous error messages he had dismissed upon regaining his senses Connor nodded a little and gave Hank a rough idea of his vital signs. "M-My Thirium volume has dropped to eighty-three percent. I'd estimate my Thirium pressure to be one-ten over seventy, and my pulse rate is-"
"About one-twenty." Hank confirmed as he had been keeping track of that himself by pressing his fingertips to the side of Connor's neck. "Right?"
"...Correct."
"Never thought I'd miss that damn light in your head." Joking a little Hank tried to lighten the heavy mood. "The color would give me a good idea of what condition you're in right about now."
"If only it were that simple to keep track of android vital signs by only three primary colors."
"Relax, son." Patting Connor's shoulder lightly Hank glanced up at the reunited mother and son to ensure they were still out of harm's way, then returned his full focus to Connor's face with a paternal concern glistening in his blue eyes. "The ambulance is on the way. No E.T.A., though."
"That's all right. I'm in no hurry." Connor opened his glassy brown eyes a little wider as he remembered the events that led to him being inside the house to begin with. "How's Jimmy? Is he...?"
"He's fine. Scared but fine." A pointed thumb over his shoulder directed Connor toward where the small family had been reunited. "His mom is holding him."
"Good." Connor's eyes began to dull a little and his strength ebbed away. "...How about you?"
"Me? Aside from getting knocked down on my ass, I'm fine. You're the one who-"
The sound of an approaching siren caught Hank's ears. Standing up he looked toward the location of the sound and saw a police car driving up and pulling over next to his car along the street.
"...Ambulance?" Connor asked, already knowing that it wasn't the correct vehicle. "Or drone?"
"No. It's Chris." Hank responded as he too was a little disappointed by the sight of the squad car in favor of the ambulance. "Guess back-up's finally arrived."
"Nice timing." Remaining alert Connor remarked while keeping a slight grin on his face to ensure Hank stayed calm. "The streets must... still be obstructed."
"Hank, Connor." Pulling the patrol car to a stop behind Hank's car Chris took in the scene of the collapsed house and downed deviant with precision and calmness. He strolled to the other side of the now parked car and looked at the duo. "What happened here? Anyone else hurt?"
"No." Hank confirmed with mild relief to his voice. "That mother and her son over there need shelter." Pointing to the smoldering pile that was once a house Hank gave the younger officer a somber glance as he then motioned to the large pile of dusty rubble. "That was their home."
Chris shut his eyes and shook his head. "Damn shame. This whole city is falling apart. Don't worry, I'll take them downtown after the scene's been cleared."
"Thanks, Chris. How bad-"
The all too haunting sensation of the Earth shaking beneath their feet returned without warning. The sounds of car horns blaring, people screaming, rubble shifting and glass breaking echoed through the neighborhood. At the edge of a curb a large tree loomed over the street, one if its largest branches snapping free loudly from the tree and landed with a heavy 'thud' across the same street had suddenly cut off passage to any other vehicle.
Chris had protectively rushed over to the mother and son and wrapped his arms around both of them in an effort to keep them safe; or at the very least make them feel safe, during the aftershock. Hank has dropped down to his knees and stayed at Connor's side on the ground.
The shaking stopped and all was eerily quiet, but only for a fleeting moment.
The city was once again blanketed in an unsettling contrasting calm as the Earth settled. In the distance a wave of panicking cries and car horns replaced the silence with a frantic ambiance. Several power lines had been downed in the aftershock, the poles weakened during the initial earthquake, and ensured that no house had any power. Houses that had survived the quake relatively intact only hours before were now showing signs of external damage; broken windows, loosened siding and shingles littered the properties of most of the houses in the neighborhood.
"You okay, kid?" Hank asked as he slowly got to his feet. He silently surveyed the additional destruction to the city as a result of the aftershock. "Any worse for wear?"
"I'm fine. How about you?"
"I'm good." The protective senior detective looked over to see Chris helping the woman back to her feet as she kept her arms wrapped tightly around Jimmy. "Chris, you guys all right?"
"We're good." Chris confirmed with a quick wave of the hand. "Take care of Connor, I'll take care of these two."
"Right." Hank knelt back down and checked Connor's damage under his coat. "Man, I'm kind of glad we weren't on the road when that aftershock hit."
"I understand your concerns." Connor was feeling a little stronger thanks to the bandages stemming off his Thirium loss, but he was still bleeding and needed some immediate technical assistance. "I'd hate to be at the precinct right about now."
"Yeah, I know what you mean."
The android-unique ambulance finally arrived at the scene, thankfully pulling up along the street opposite from where the tree had fallen and was ready to take Connor to the nearest Android Emergency Care Facility. Thanks to all the debris on the roads the ambulance had to find alternative, and thus longer route, to get to the correct address.
"Your ride's here." Remaining cool and collected Hank joked again as he continued to press his palm to Connor's chest. "C'mon, let's get you off the ground."
"Yes, before it starts moving again."
"Smartass."
Chris walked over to the two detectives hastily before they left the scene. "Hey, you two be careful once you get there. Just got word over the radio that some gunman showed up downtown and is trying to take advantage of the chaos."
"There's always one asshole just waiting for an opportunity..." Hank sighed as he shook his head with disappointment. "Right. Thanks, Chris. Take care of yourself and take care of those two."
"Will do."
The two Emergency Field Technicians, one male and the other female, wheeled the gurney over to where Connor was laying and proceeded to check over the injured deviant with meticulously trained hands. The male took the lead and checked over Connor, peeling back the coat, and examined the wound carefully.
"Sorry about the delay."
"...Don't worry about it." Connor spoke up somewhat jovially. "I'm just happy to be out of that house." His cough had returned, and the clean air was no longer keeping it at bay. "I understand."
Carefully Connor was picked up from the ground, loaded onto the gurney, wheeled to the ambulance and placed in the back to receive his long overdue treatment.
Hank didn't wait to ask as he jumped into the back of the ambulance to stay by Connor and keep an eye on his partner. "Oh, Chris? Could you have someone bring the car back to the precinct for us?"
"No problem." Chris waved from his patrol car as he showed the mother and her son to the backseat to transport them to shelter. "It'll be there in an hour."
Hank closed the doors on the back of the ambulance and sat on the bench next to the gurney. He sighed heavily and rubbed his hand over his weary blue eyes as he looked down at Connor's pale, tired face. His mind was racing. His partner had been injured, he couldn't do anything to make the Earth stop shaking, and he had no idea how badly the rest of the city was fairing.
"Things just keep getting better and better..."
Connor coughed again, harder than he had before, as the technicians removed his black tie, his gray blazer, and his formerly white dress shirt to get access to his steadily blue bruising chest. Still in pain Connor protectively wrapped his rarm around his 'ribs' as he winced from the intense cough. "Ow..."
"Connor?" Hank watched as the female technician, Linda, grabbed her audioscope and listened to Connor's bare chest. She was dragging the bell from left to right over his upper chest and then lower chest as she listened to his struggling ventilation biocomponents. "How's your breathing?"
"N-Not bad." He answered through gritted teeth and fought to calm his frantic breaths. "But it hurts and I'm feeling tired again."
The ambulance ride was slow and tedious as many of the most direct routes to the closest facility had been cut off by downed trees or other forms of destruction. Hank pressed his fingertips against the inside of Connor's wrist to check his pulse as he was worried that something could wrong before they arrived at the Zeta Facility. Connor had suffered heavy Thirium loss at the scene and the delayed arrival of the technicians could cause further complications.
"Pulse is a little fast." Hank confirmed as the male technician, Grant, wrapped the Thirium pressure cuff around Connor's bicep. "How's his Thirium pressure?"
"The pressure is a little low at one-ten over seventy." Grant confirmed in a steady voice. "We'll start a Thirium line in his arm to keep his throat clear in case he needs oxygen to sustain proper ventilation."
Connor took in a deep pained breath and released it slowly as he tried to clear the dust from vents. "Th-That's good. I'd prefer to keep my air intake line... as open as possible."
Hank immediately noticed his partner's discomfort and wisely questioned it. "Hey, what's going on? Is your pain getting worse?"
"N-No. Just a little hard to... take a breath."
"Hey," Hank's blue eyes widened as he realized that Connor's already paled complexion appeared to grow whiter. Looking to Linda sitting across from him on the other side of the gurney, Hank dared himself to ask the all too important question. "are his vents failing him?"
"Only one way to find out." Replacing the earbuds of the audioscope into her ears Linda hovered over Connor again, then lightly placed the bell of the audioscope against his chest. "I'm going to listen to your chest again, all right?"
"Y-Yes." Wanting some reprieve Connor agreed to the procedure. "Do... what you need... t-to do."
Connor usually isn't that cooperative. Seeing the always stubborn deviant relenting to a technician's care was slightly alarming to Hank.
"Connor," Lina finished her exam and told her patient of the next step in his treatment. "I'm going to hook you up to the Thirial activity monitor just to be safe."
Hank dragged his hand over his mouth and dust covered, bearded as he tried and failed to hide his concern with a simple swear. "...Shit."
Once more Linda listened to Connor's chest again while Grant put an oxygen mask over the deviant's nose and mouth. "How do you feel?"
"Like... L-Like someone stabbed me." Connor winced again, still trying to take a full breath while enduring the pain. "I s-suspect total ventilation failure... on the right." Struggling to breathe Connor's soulful brown eyes looked over to Hank as he dared to simplify his complex condition. "...C-Collapsed lung."
"Take it easy, kid." Hank urged with an impressively calm tone of voice as he stayed at his son's side. "You've survived worse."
"Y-Yeah. Raid. Revolution. B-Bullets. Sumo tackling me... t-to the ground."
Hank laughed a little at that last comment. "I think you getting tackled by Sumo is far from the worst thing you've endured as of late, kid."
Connor tried to laugh as well but only coughed instead. Small spots of blue blood stained his lips after the coughing passed.
"Easy. Deep, slow breaths." Doing his best to be of some help Hank discreetly checked his phone by slipping it from his pocket. They'd been riding in the ambulance for almost ten minutes now and he knew they were only half way to the facility. "We'll get ya' patched up and keep you in the police department and away from the fire department. Okay?"
Connor started coughing harder and his complexion quickly turned a ghastly shade of grayish white. The Thirial activity monitor showed a rapidly increasing heart rate as the deviant's inability to draw a proper breath due to his compromised ventilation biocomponents caused his core temperature to rise and his Thirium pump to react negatively to the increasing temperature around it.
"Connor?"
Cautiously Linda pressed the bell of the audioscope against the right side of the deviant's chest again. "No ventilation movement on the right."
Coughing even harder than previously, additional blue blood splattered against the interior of the oxygen mask and made Hank feel sick at the sight of his damaged and weak son coughing up his own Thirium.
Reacting solely on his paternal instincts Hank grabbed Connor's shoulder and held tight. "Hang on, kid. You'll be okay."
Grant radioed ahead to the facility to update the technicians waiting in the emergency repair wing on Connor's condition. "Patient has coughed up Thirium; confirmed Thirial hemoptysis. No ventilation sounds from the right biocomponent, patient is suffering from increasing stress."
'Understood.' It was Abby's voice responding over the radio and the familiar voice of the technician who had patched Connor up dozens of times in the past was a needed and appreciated comfort during the stressful transportation to the facility. 'Go ahead and start-'
"Stand by!" Suddenly Grant cut off Abby mid sentence as the Thirial activity monitor began to screech and Connor's core temperature began to rise steadily higher to a dangerous degree. "Partial ventilation arrest." He turned his attention to the ambulance driver and pounded twice on the small connecting compartment window to direct him accordingly. "Pull over."
As the ambulance pulled to the side of the road Hank leaned back and watched as the two technicians prepared to insert an external air intake line down Connor's throat. All the while this was happening Hank could still hear Abby still on the radio instructing the team of E.F.T.'s to do just that.
Connor had thankfully lost consciousness and was unaware of the seemingly aggressive action that is inserting the tube down his throat. Taking a deep breath to steady his own nerves Hank watched as Linda carefully inserted the semi-flexible tube down his son's throat to help him breathe again and waited for Connor to respond to the external assistance.
Satisfied that the tube was positioned properly Linda then attached the ambubag and began manually pumping oxygen into his Connor's struggling artificial lungs. Using one hand to pump the bag and the other hand to feel for a rising and falling chest, she watched as Connor's alarming paleness began to diminish as his power levels fluctuated and his body temperature began to cool down.
"Successful air intake line established." Such a confirmation helped everyone breathe a little easier. "The patient's pump rate and core temperature are improving."
'Good work.' Abby replied as the driver relayed the message. 'Get him in here A.S.A.P. and keep the airway in place.'
"Okay, let's go." Grant addressed the driver again and patted the window once more. "He's as stable as he's going to get."
Hank moved his hand up to Connor's hair and held it there as a comforting gesture. "Come on Connor, if there was ever a time that I wanted you to actually be stubborn, it's now!"
Breath by forced artificial breath, Hank watched Connor's bruised chest struggle to rise and fall with each pump of the desperately needed cool oxygen. The world seemed to be moving in slow motion as Hank fought to keep himself from yelling in frustration for his son's sake. As the ambulance turned and swayed through the desolated and vacated streets, Hank felt his stomach tighten and his ears started ringing loud enough to drown out the sound of the blaring siren overhead.
The longer it took to arrive at Zeta Facility, the closer Connor slipped toward permanent shutdown.
Mercifully the ambulance slowed as it finally turned into the drive of the facility. As the ambulance backed up to the emergency doors Hank flinched as the rear doors of the ambulance were aggressively pulled open from the outside. Abby and her two deviant assistants, Barry and Jarvis, were already waiting outside the facility to tend to Connor, and of course Abby's eyes went wide upon seeing the familiar face of her deviant friend as the patient.
"Vitals unchanged." Linda announced as she continued pumping oxygen into Connor's system. The group worked together to lower the gurney out of the ambulance and onto the paved parking lot outside. "He's still not breathing on his own."
Abby took the audioscope from around her neck and listened to Connor's chest for herself while Barry used his penlight to check Connor's pupils. Looking toward the door to the facility Abby took charge and issued another order. "Let's get him into emergency repair room one right now."
The two assisting technicians wheeled the gurney into the facility with Abby and Hank walking alongside it. Linda was still pumping the oxygen as her body was now working on autopilot as the day's hectic events were finally wearing down her own mental and emotional reserves after enduring so many emergency calls in a small frame of time.
Connor was taken to the appointed exam and treatment room and was carefully lifted from the gurney and transferred to the exam table by the two assistants. All the while Abby and Hank hovered over their downed friend protectively.
"Barry," Abby continued to intently listen to Connor's chest as she addressed the always cheery 'Jerry' model deviant assistant aiding her work. "we're going to need to insert a secondary air intake line to reinflate his right ventilation biocomponent."
"Right away." Barry had finished hooking the ventilator to the external airway already in place in Connor's throat. The two ambulance technicians gathered up their equipment and left the room to give Abby technician and Barry the space they needed to work. "Ready to go."
"Right. Let's get started."
Without a word Jarvis wheeled the small tray table with the prepared line, scalpel and diluted incrassation compound over to the exam table. Abby slipped on a pair of fresh sterile purple latex gloves before beginning the procedure and eyed Connor's vitals on their the Thirial activity monitor very closely.
Standing with his back against the far wall Hank just watched as his best friend and son laid helpless and unconscious on the table before him.
"Hank?" Abby called out to him over her shoulder as she swabbed a small amount of the incrassation compound on the right side of Connor's chest where the second line was going to be inserted. "You should really step outside for a minute."
"I can't leave Connor-"
"You're not leaving him; you're just going next door for a few minutes." She insisted warmly as she finally managed to coax the worried father toward the door with a non-threatening motion of her gloved hand. "I want you to sit down before you fall down. I don't need another detective to babysit."
"But-"
"Go on. Trust me, you don't want to see this. It's like inserting a chest tube into a human and it's never a pretty sight."
"...All right. I'll be back soon, son."
Reluctantly Hank slipped out of the exam room and allowed Jarvis to lead him to the private staff break lounge down the corridor. As he sat down with a heavy sigh Hank's phone began to ring and he answered it with a dour tone after recognizing the name on the caller I.D. shown on the screen. The last thing he wanted to do was talk about work, but it at least provided him with an appropriate distraction.
"Yeah, Jeffrey. What's up?"
'Hank, I heard about Connor from Chris.' Captain Fowler sound levelheaded and annoyingly calm as he spoke. 'Is he...?'
"I don't know." Hank admitted sadly, feeling useless. "They're preparing to insert a chest tube. They need to reinflate his lung and shit like that. His leg is pretty torn up, too."
'Damn. Stay with him and keep us posted. I don't need two detectives knocked down because of this shitty day.'
"Yeah." Being given permission to stay with his son was the best he could've hoped for. "I won't go anywhere, but I'll be in touch."
'Good. By the way, Miranda and her son, Jimmy, are doing just fine. You both did good work today.'
"Yeah, sure. Feels good." Hank sighed and shook his head a little. He never even bothered to ask the woman her name, but now he knew that she and her son were both truly going to be okay. "I'll let Connor know when he wakes up."
Ending the call Hank dropped the phone on the table and pressed his face into the palm of his hand as he leaned atop the table tiredly. The entire ordeal had drained him of his own energy, and he couldn't believe that at one point in his life he used to have energy to spare.
"Shit, it's not just Connor this time. The entire city can't seem to catch a damn break these days."
Inside the isolated emergency repair bay Abby had swabbed a fresh layer of diluted orange incrassation compound over Connor's now fully exposed artificial skin along what would be considered the right side of his rib cage. It was the only way to get to his ventilation biocomponent without opening up his entire chest cavity in the process, and any additional external pressure on the damaged biocomponent could make Connor's condition much worse; if not prove fatal for the unconscious and weakened deviant. It was clear that Abby was about to have her skills put to the test as she returned to work after her maternity leave, and at that moment she truly wished she didn't need to save a good friend's life.
"Scalpel." Abby asked as she held out her opened palm toward Barry. "Two-inch handle."
Barry handed her the requested item and watched her every move carefully. "Scalpel."
Using controlled precise pressure Abby created an incision along the artificial skin covering Connor's rib cage, his dextral axial frames, to access the plastimetal beneath. After using her fingertip to ensure that the incision was an ideal size, she was ready for the next step.
"Puncture drill."
Once again Barry handed Abby the requested tool and watched as she used the small but powerful device to create a hole roughly the size and diameter of a dime in the right side of Connor's chest with a dull 'thud'. A small gush of Thirium oozed through the puncture site and poured onto the table at Connor's side.
"Got it." Putting the drill aside Abby needed the next item now that she had accessed Connor's chest. "Air intake line."
"Air intake line." Barry handed over the line and readied himself to assist if a complication arose. "I'm ready when you are."
"All right, good." Carefully Abby slipped the line into the opened right side of Connor's chest and was met by the telltale sound of a sudden rush of air escaping the compromised chassis. The removed pressure allowed his ventilation biocomponent to reinflate and function at a pitiful twelve percent capacity and quivered a little as it struggled to respond. "Now Connor, we need you to do your share of the work and start breathing again."
Barry was watching the Thirial activity monitor closely while listening to Connor's chest for himself with his own audioscope. "Breath sounds are weak but returning on the right. Good work, Abby."
"Yeah, good work." Checking on the pale blue blood soaked gauze around Connor's leg Abby set about sealing off the next wound and repairing the interior Thirial line to prevent Connor from bleeding out. "Let's just hope there's no other internal damage or Thirium leaks to complicate things further. His system can't take much more stress."
Still physically shaking and needing to hear some good news, Hank took a deep breath and tentatively sipped at the coffee provided by Jarvis as he watched the news report on television detailing the severity of the earthquake and the subsequent aftershocks. While no major structures had been destroyed, the city as a whole had suffered extensive damage and would require months, maybe even years, of repair to undo all the damage. Older buildings and bridges took the brunt of the damage, but many of the buildings near the epicenter of the quake would need extensive repairs before anyone would be allowed access again. Fortunately, the hotels that escaped damage, New Jericho Tower and Skye Tower were all willing to give shelter to those who needed it.
Sitting alone in the breakroom Hank didn't hear the door slide open as Abby joined him and sat down beside him at the small round table. Leaning back in her chair Abby tried to get comfortable while also getting used to being back to work and on her feet while performing delicate procedures.
"Hi, Hank."
Hank barely looked over at Abby as he was almost afraid to ask about his best friend and son. "...Connor?"
"He's holding on." Her confirmation didn't sound as enthusiastic as Hank had hoped. "I was able to reinflate his right ventilation biocomponent without any difficulty, and he's resting comfortably."
"What about his leg?"
"It's fine. He's going to be sore for a day or two, but he'll be just fine after he rests."
"Thank fuck." Pressing his hand to his bearded chin again Hank stared at the distant wall with a glazed over gaze. "I shouldn't have let him go inside that house. I knew it was too dangerous."
"Hank," Abby placed her hand on his forearm and tightened her grip. "please don't blame yourself. You didn't make that house collapse and you got Connor back out as soon as you could. It's not like he would've stayed out of that house anyway since a little boy was trapped."
Hank briefly gave her a confused look as she continued on with her reasoning.
"The E.F.T.'s told my assistants what happened while I was tending to Connor." It seemed Abby had her own sources and connections just as any detective worth their salt would. "I know what you two were doing. It was the right thing to do."
"...I know, but it took so long for the ambulance to arrive." Hank was still feeling guilty for what had happened. "I should've recognized that Connor was-"
"And even if you did know what had happened you still would've had to wait for the ambulance! You're not responsible for Connor getting hurt."
"But I am responsible for him. He's my partner, my best friend and my son." Hank stood up from his chair and walked toward the door but stopped short before he left the room. "If something happens to him, it's on me." Hank stumbled mid sentence and braced himself against the wall beside the door with his hand to keep his balance. Dragging his free hand over his eyes Hank suddenly felt dizzy and the world began to darken. "...What the... fuck?"
"Hank?" Abby's instincts as a former medic suddenly kicked in full swing. She knew that she suddenly had a second patient on her hand. "What's wrong?"
"Dizzy. I'm... d-dizzy." Before Hank could say another word, his blue eyes rolled back in his head and legs buckled beneath him. "Feel... shit..."
Moving swiftly Abby managed to catch Hank from behind before his head hit the hard floor as he collapsed backward. Abby pressed her fingertips against the side of Hank's neck to count his pulse as she guided him down to the floor to lay on his back. Tracking the senior detective's pulse Abby called for help from her two assistants.
"Hey, I need a gurney over here!"
Kneeling on the cold floor of the waiting room Abby let Hank rest against her legs as she monitored Hank's pulse and respiration with her hands. The facility seemed unnaturally quiet as she waited for only a few seconds before assistance arrived.
"Easy, watch his head." Abby instructed as Barry and another deviant orderly, Joe, stopped in the waiting room with the requested gurney rolling between them. Barry wrapped his arms around Hank's shoulders and chest while Joe grabbed on to his legs. "On the count of three: One, two, three!"
Abby continued to hover over Hank as he was placed on the gurney as she was trying to find a reason for his sudden collapse.
"Take him into exam room two." Abby calmly ordered as Hank was wheeled away into the directed area. "I'll be there in a moment."
She too was beginning to feel the stress of the day and just need a minute to calm her nerves as she was righteously worried about her husband and young daughter during the chaos. Pulling her phone from her pocket Abby called Gavin and was relieved to hear his voice on the other end of the line as he confirmed that he had Aria and that they were unharmed. He took Aria to the precinct to keep her safe and was being watched over by Tina, (undoubtedly being spoiled too) in the breakroom at that very moment.
"At least one thing turned out okay."
Ending the call, she pocketed her phone and rubbed her hand over the back of her tense neck.
"But today still sucks ass!"
Inside exam room one Jarvis was carefully observing Connor's ventilation activity after he had the secondary air intake line inserted inside his chest. The Thirial activity monitor showed a slightly elevated but stable heart rate on the display as Connor's self-healing program finally kicked in. The external ventilator pumped at a consistent pace to keep oxygen flowing into Connor's repaired and healing artificial lungs until the downed deviant was strong enough to breathe on his own once more and he no longer required external assistance. The visual observation was strictly a precaution as Abby wanted to make sure that her skills hadn't rusted during her maternity leave.
"Vitals are holding steady, Dr. Grayson." Jarvis announced verbally through the intercom connecting the exam room to the break room as he made a note in Connor's electronic chart. "They're weak but stable."
The door opened slid suddenly as Abby walked inside. "Jarvis, we have a problem in exam room two. Hank's collapsed."
"Hank? The human?" Jarvis's eyes widened with surprise at the revelation. "What happened?" He asked as he followed Abby into the neighboring exam room. "I am unfamiliar with human ailments and treatment."
"I'm not sure. He was talking to me when he suddenly got dizzy and collapsed." She answered as the neighboring door connecting the first exam room to the second room slid open. "I suspect a concussion or dangerously low blood sugar."
Walking into the exam room Jarvis watched Abby hover over Hank and used her penlight to check the unconscious senior detective's pupils. "Did he strike his head when he fell just now?"
"No, I managed to catch him before his head hit the floor." She clicked off her penlight and lifted Hank's hand to count his radial pulse. "Pulse and respiration are normal, but his pupils are slightly dilated." Gently Abby checked Hank's head as a precautionary measure, running her fingers through his gray locks of hair checking for any sign of external injury or bleeding courtesy of an unseen injury. "No bumps or swelling on the back of his head." Clicking on the penlight again she began checking Hank's ears and nose for blood. "No bleeding either."
"Should I call 911?"
"Not yet. Get a skull x-ray for me while I check on Connor for myself. I'd also like to run a blood test just to be sure nothing toxic has entered Hank's system."
"The proper equipment for such tests are still functional." Jarvis confirmed in a level tone. "I will begin the tests right away."
"Hang in there for me, Hank." Abby encouraged as she lightly combed her fingers through his hair and patted his arm. "I'm going to check on Connor and then figure out what's happening to you."
Taking her leave of the room Abby went next door to check on Connor for herself. Returning to her deviant patient's side was a grim experience for the seasoned technician. It was her job, her passion to repair damage, to heal wounds and to treat the sick. Seeing a friend and colleague admitted as a patient was always a humbling and frightening moment as it reminded her that despite her skill, training, and dedication she still wasn't a miracle worker.
Connor was laying still as death and still unable to breathe on his own. The external air intake line had drained the excess air that was putting pressure on his right ventilation biocomponent, but the swelling from his damaged chest chassis was hindering his own natural ventilation responses.
Lifting up Connor's eyelids one at a time Abby reexamined Connor's eyes with her penlight. The details she uncovered weren't exactly heartwarming.
"I don't like this. Your pupillary response is sluggish and you're not showing any sign of spontaneous ventilation."
Barry had developed a gut instinct as an assisting technician that told him that Abby was right to be worried. "His Thirium pressure is still low, too. I think he's bleeding internally."
"I think you're right." Determined to figure out what was going wrong Abby pressed her palms along Connor's chest and abdomen. "But exactly where is he bleeding is the big question."
"We should-" Barry stopped himself short when Connor's completely still body suddenly went rigid, his already pale and blue face turning an even sicklier shade of grey. "Abby?"
Looking at the Thirial activity monitor they both saw that Connor's heart rate was spiking as he struggled for breath.
"Ventilation arrest." Abby replaced her audioscope to listen to Connor's chest. "No ventilation sounds on the right, AGAIN."
Barry examined the air intake line and found that the once clear tube was now clogged with leaking blue blood. "Obstruction in the secondary external line."
Abby felt her own heart skip a beat when she realized that their diagnosis was correct: Internal bleeding. "Replace the line and prepare the emergency repair bay, we need to find the source of the bleed. Fast."
"I'm on it." Barry disappeared from the room and set about preparing the repair bay as requested. "Everything will be ready in two minutes."
"C'mon Connor, don't stop fighting now."
Abby encouraged as she administered a dose of incrassation compound into the line in Connor's arm in an attempt to stem the internal bleeding for a moment.
"Just hold on a little longer..."
Outside of the facility the city trudged on and began to lick its wounds after the impressive display of power by Mother Nature humbled Detroit to its core. Three hours of additional emergency repairs to Connor's damaged biocomponents had left the Zeta Facility itself feeling exhausted and yet the work was crucial and needed to be handled by professionals without any delay. Numerous other deviants were brought into the same facility to seek treatment, and like Connor, they all took hours to repair but were treated with a professional courtesy that rivaled any prestigious hospital in the nation. The two towers were nearly full due to all of the people who needed temporary shelter until the city finished cleaning up after the earthquake.
What felt like an eternity passed by before Hank's tired blue eyes opened, and he was greeted by Abby standing beside him. Glancing up at her kind face Hank felt like his skull was about to split open and he had a horrible taste in the back of his mouth. As he tried to lift up his head he felt Abby's warm hand press down on his shoulder to keep him still on the relatively soft bed that he was laying in.
"Don't move. You need to rest."
"What... the fuck happened?" Hank raised his hand to press against his forehead and felt a tug on the back of his hand where an I.V. had been started. Staring at the I.V. with understandable confusion, his eyes returned to Abby and began searching her face for answers. "What's going on?"
"You passed out. Low blood sugar."
Lying flat with a sigh Hank swore at the seemingly ridiculous answers. "...Damn it."
"Hey, it could've been worse." Abby reminded him as he regained his senses. "I thought you took a blow to the head and ended up concussed."
Pressing his hand firmer against his head Hank admitted that he was in pain and wanted something to ease his discomfort. "...My skull feels like it's going to explode."
"Wait until your blood sugar gets back to where it's supposed to be, you'll feel a lot better."
"What about Connor?"
"Well," speaking in a low voice Abby answered as gently as she could. "he started bleeding internally and-"
"Fuckin' hell!"
"Easy!" She put her hand against Hank's chest to hold him still again. If Hank got worked up then he'd make himself feel worse and stunt his recovery. "I was able to repair the damage and now he's recovering just fine."
"...Wh-Where is he?"
Abby gave a subtle nod to Hank's side where he was greeted by the sight of Connor resting comfortably in his own bed a few feet away. He had the Thirial activity monitor still attached to his chest, but the ventilator had been removed and the line in his arm that had been replacing his Thirium had been taken out. The deviant's right leg was secured in a plastimetal splint and the little bits of his leg that were showing around the splint already had the artificial skin regenerating.
"Shit, Connor."
"He's in stasis mode to let his self-healing program work at full power. He'll wake up in about two hours and then you both can go home and rest."
"What? No." The very idea of going home in the face of disaster sat wrong with the experienced first responder. "We still need-"
"Yeah, I know. Gavin's been telling me what's going on and he's confirmed that everyone who responded to the emergency first has been dismissed for the rest of the day." Sharp as ever, Abby let Hank know that he and Connor were off the hook. "He's at home with Aria resting, and I want you two to do the same. It's not like Connor can help a bunch of people while he's on crutches anyway."
"Right. So," sitting upright on the bed slowly Hank tested himself to see if he was still dizzy or not, but thankfully the dizzy spell passed. He looked at the I.V. in the back of his hand and sighed. "low blood sugar?"
"Yup. You didn't bother to eat anything today, did you?"
"Nope." Admitting he hadn't eaten, something Connor often scolded him for, Hank laid back down again. "Skipped breakfast and I didn't have time to stop for a quick bite between emergency calls. Go figure."
"Low blood sugar and adrenaline don't mix well."
"I've noticed."
"Just take a moment to rest and then go home. If you don't rest, then I'll tell your Captain you went down and make sure you go to the E.R. for a little visit."
Giving Abby a playful glare Hank obeyed the request and stayed down. "Traitor."
"It's my job to keep you two as healthy as possible so you can keep doing your jobs." Flashing Hank a smug smile Abby refused to take his comment as an insult and countered with some logic. "I'm not a traitor, I'm your best ally."
Hank smirked a little as Abby left him and Connor alone to rest for a while longer. Not wanting to chance another black-out Hank stayed in the bed and called out to Connor in a low voice to see if he could rouse the deviant from his rest mode.
"Connor, you okay over there, kid?"
There was a brief pause before Connor's head lolled a little to the side and his heavy eyelids opened slowly. It took moment for his brown irises to focus on the ceiling, but as his systems came back online, he turned to look at Hank directly and his brow furrowed. "...Hank?"
"Hey, son, welcome back." Amused that Connor had woken up before the two hours were over Hank knew that the stubborn deviant was going to make a full recovery as well. "How do you feel?"
"...Confused." Cautiously he propped himself upright on his elbows and made sure to move slowly for the sake of his sore chest and healing leg. "Why are we both in the recovery wing of a facility?"
"Your leg needed to be repaired, your right vent thing needed to be repaired, and I needed a sugar fix." Holding up his hand he turned the appendage so that Connor could see the I.V. still inserted into a vein in the back of his hand. "We're both going to be fine."
"That's good to know." Connor laid as still as possible as he took in a gentle breath to test his pain threshold. He was sore but not in critical condition. "What about the city and the mother and son we rescued?"
"No more earthquakes or aftershocks, and Chris told me that Jimmy and his mom went to stay with relatives in Kalamazoo. It turns out Fowler dismissed us and the rest of the early first responders anyway, so relax! We can rest easy knowing we did our jobs and earned a break."
"We're in the clear. That's very good news for us all. " The revelation was calming and felt incredibly grounding. "How do you feel?"
"Exhausted and starving."
"I doubt there will be any take-out places open due to the earthquake." Connor wisely noted as he slowly began downloading updates on the city's recovery process in the aftermath of the earthquake and aftershocks. With power and the internet being restored one section at a time Connor was able to keep himself informed of the situation outside the Zeta Facility. "I'd be happy to cook something when we get back to the house."
"No way, kid. You've been through enough today already. I don't want to risk you getting burned on the stove or some other shit because you're trying to balance on crutches and flipping an omelet at the same time."
"If I can handle a collapsing house, I think I can handle a stove."
"I don't know..." Hank stated with a skeptical tone. "You seem to be a magnet for trouble."
"I've attempted to uninstall that particular magnet, but it's seemingly a part of my original programming." Flashing Hank an impressively human grin Connor confirmed that he was going to be just fine and was feeling better already. "I think my constant troubles are going to be permanent."
"Smartass." Leaning back a little Hank let out a breathy sigh and closed his eyes. The day was finally over, and they could stop worrying. "At least you're still in one piece and still with me. In the end, that's all that matters to me, son."
-next chapter-