"Sick and Tired"
Hank Anderson's Residence
The start of December wasn't nearly as smooth and simple as everyone had hoped it'd be. It seemed the cold weather was affecting more than just the humans and stray animals in Detroit. A new software update had been released to the deviant community courtesy of 'Digital Sentience', and a startling number of deviants were experiencing a glitch that resulted in software errors, strange side effects and overall exhibit symptoms that mimicked that of the flu in humans. With a majority of the deviant population in Detroit suddenly stricken with the odd software error, many of the humans in the city were quickly reminded of how much easier life had become with the aid of deviants working alongside them since they were such efficient workers and took on a majority of the laborious grunt work that the humans truly hated needing to handle.
After being awoken by the sound of Lucas coughing in the middle of the night, Hank discovered the deviant detective in the livingroom struggling to catch his breath with only the crimson glow of Lucas's L.E.D. to guide him over to the couch. The moment he heard the painful coughing Hank's paternal side kicked in to full gear and he promptly pressed his palm to Lucas's forehead for an instinctive fever check. As expected, Lucas felt like he was burning up from an intense infection.
Lucas felt absolutely horrible. The deviant had a some Thirium congesting in his irritated vents - his artificial lungs - as the error resulted in the vents using more Thirium than necessary to function. Due to his inability to properly ventilate his system Lucas's thermal regulator was struggling to compensate, and it resulted in Lucas overheating. The chronic overheating of his core caused his gyroscope to malfunction, and the deviant felt dizzy because he couldn't seem to find his balance. To make matters worse, the glitch also made it impossible for Lucas's system to accurately calculate how much Thirium was in his system and that had accidentally activated his emergency expulsion program that would cause him to sporadically throw-up Thirium after mistaking at as impure and contaminated.
"Let it out, son." Hank urged as he lightly patted Lucas's back while the deviant threw-up into the toilet bowl. The heat radiating off of Lucas's body and into Hank's palm made the man wince sympathetically. "Being sick fuckin' sucks for everyone."
"H-How long..." Lucas paused long enough to spit the lingering Thirium from his mouth before taking in a deep breath. Leaning heavily against the porcelain basin with both of his arms folded under his head, Lucas looked more like a college freshman who couldn't quite handle his liquor than a sick detective. "How long will... I be sick?"
"Wish I knew. It's different for everyone when we get sick, and I don't think you deviants will have any better luck with being sick than the humans." Reaching up Hank flushed away Lucas's sickness and put his hand on the deviant's hot shoulder to pull him back from the toilet to lean against the side of the cool bathtub. "I think you should see a technician."
"No." Shaking his head weakly Lucas immediately regretted the motion and pressed his fingertips against his red tinted L.E.D. to support his aching head. "I-If this is a citywide error... then a p-patch will be released soon. I don't n-need a technician."
"Well, you are going to call off today and get some rest."
"But you can't work alone." Lucas countered with surprising swiftness as he tried to argue with Hank about missing work. "There's t-too much to handle."
"Son, I've been working solo a hell of a lot longer than we've been working together as partners. I can handle another shift by myself." Hank gently looped his hand around Lucas's bicep and pulled the sick deviant up to his feet, then pulled Lucas's arm around his shoulders to support him at his side. "You need to rest and get that fever down."
"Deviants don't... get fevers." Despite his efforts to sound confident Lucas sounded absolutely exhausted. As Hank ran a washcloth under the cool tap in the sink and pulled a digital thermometer from the medicine cabinet, Lucas sighed and tried to not wobble so much on his feet. "We overheat."
"Different word, same thing."
Slowly Hank led Lucas out of the bathroom and down the hallway. The duo had to step awkwardly around Sumo as the large dog sat in the hallway watching over the events taking place in the bathroom with a protective curiosity. Once Lucas was back in the livingroom Hank helped to guide him down over the couch to get some rest and hopefully sleep through the worst of his symptoms.
"Take it easy for now." Hank urged as he made sure Lucas laid down over the couch on his back. As soon as the deviant let out a huff of heated breath Hank tucked a soft pillow beneath Lucas's head and then draped his cold washcloth over the deviant's far too warm forehead. "I'm going to call you off sick, get ready for work, and I'm going to call and check on ya' every hour. Okay?"
"...Yes, okay." Closing his gray eyes Lucas had to admit that the cold compress did help ease his painful fever and the headache that accompanied it thanks to his unusual Thirium volume causing an unusual Thirium pressure. "I'll be sure to answer."
"Good. I want to stay here with you since you're so sick and you've never been sick before, but the city is kinda' fucked up right now." Smoothing the compress over Lucas's forehead lightly Hank patted the deviant's shoulder and reminded him of the responsibilities that he had for the entire city. "And I think the city's in worse shape than you are."
"C-Considering how I feel," Lucas opened his eyes again and gave Hank a pitiful glance. "that m-makes me terrified... for the city."
"You still have a sharp wit." Laughing a little Hank just shook his head and promptly gave Lucas a small smirk. "Guess you're not THAT sick after all."
"I hope not."
"Open your mouth." Presenting Lucas with the thermometer Hank made it clear that he wanted to know how sick Lucas truly was. "If you're feeling this shitty then I know you can't run your self-diagnosis thingy, and I don't want your brain to melt."
"I-Intracranial... processor." Lucas corrected the term for 'brain' then allowed Hank to slip the digital device between his teeth. It didn't take long for the thermometer to get a reading and display the numbers on the small digital screen. "M-My core temperature... is designed to m-mirror that of humans."
"So you should be roughly at ninety-eight point six degrees." Hank noted as he took back the thermometer and read the number for himself. "Damn. You're at one-hundred and two. That's too high for my comfort."
"M-Mine as well." Pressing his own palm down against the compress against his forehead helped to alleviate his discomfort. "Cold c-compresses... will help."
"You try to sleep while I go and get ready for work. If you need anything, and I mean anything at all, call me. It doesn't matter what it is or what time you call, I'll come back to the house to help ya' out."
Lucas gave Hank a small nod as he closed his eyes again and tried to rest as Hank had suggested. All he could do was lay still and sleep considering how exhausted and rundown his entire body felt. While Lucas had never been sick before and was always eager for a new experience, he had to admit that being sick was an experience he wished he could've skipped over and hoped that he'd never have to experience ever again.
The sensation of Sumo pressing his cold wet nose against the side of his neck brought Lucas only a modicum of comfort considering how horrendous he felt. Casually he wrapped his arm around the dog's neck and shoulders to gently pull him up against his side as an instinctive need to feel comforted. It didn't take long for Sumo to reach up and press his paw down against Lucas's arm as he wagged his tail happily.
"Thanks f-for being here, Sumo."
While Hank was at work and keeping the city from falling apart at the seams, Lucas would have to lay over the couch feeling miserable and wait for the patch to the malfunctioning software to be released. Even though Lucas knew he wasn't the only deviant afflicted with the flu he still felt as if he was the only one feeling entirely miserable and rundown.
Only once the patch was released would the city finally get an official count on how many deviants had been affected that day.
Belle Isle: Visionary Lodestar Lighthouse
The error stretched beyond the city and made it out to the isle where thousands of deviants were currently residing. All of New Jericho Tower was afflicted with the error and there was only so much that could be done to aid so many deviants stricken at once. Lucy was one of the very few deviants who hadn't been affected by the software update since she had suffered such severe trauma to her body, her processor was simply incapable of being updated. It was hard for her to aid so many sick deviants in the tower, but she was determined to do everything she could to aid those who had been affected. As she tended to the ill and treated their symptoms to the best of her ability, she looked to Josh and Simon for assistance as they too avoided being infected. Markus and North weren't so fortunate.
Out in the lighthouse only a few hundred yards away from New Jericho Tower, Connor too was feeling horribly sick and exhausted. The software affliction had given Connor the same symptoms as Lucas, and he knew that he needed to find a way to ease his symptoms. Being a vigilante who was also believed to be dead meant that it was very difficult for Connor to reach out to ask for some help. He needed to find an alternative means of treating his condition to keep it from getting any worse.
Staggering out of his bedroom and into the bathroom Connor pressed his palm against the surface of the mirror and stared at his unsettling reflection. Seeing his own face so pale and his eyes so glassy confirmed that he truly was as sick as he felt. Just like every other deviant in the city, he had no experience with being sick and wasn't sure what to expect or how to take care of himself.
"This update..."
Connor muttered as he crouched down to get closer to the floor in hope of stopping the room from spinning around him. Moving around made him feel dizzy and like he was about to collapse from sheer exhaustion.
"E-Error."
Crawling on his hands and knees Connor returned to his bedroom to slip on his usual day clothes whenever he ventured out into the city with moderate difficulty. The jeans and the black t-shirt made his already high core temperature feel even higher. After he slipped on the leather jacket Connor felt like he was about to be boiled alive courtesy of his fever.
"Overh-heating."
Feeling horrible inside and out Connor pressed his palm to his forehead and felt the heat seep immediately from his head and into his hand.
"The c-cold air... should h-help."
With the grace and speed of a toddler learning how to tie their own shoes for the first time, Connor finally managed to get his boots on and pull the beanie on over his still brunet locks. He didn't have the energy to shift his hair color from brunet to blond, not that his hair was too noticeable under the hat anyway. The only part of his disguise that Connor could put on without difficulty was the fake pair of glasses that helped him appear entirely human.
It was a struggle to get up from the floor while feeling so weak, yet Connor managed to find his balance and amble toward the lighthouse's only door. Once he stepped outside the safety of the structure and into the brisk December air Connor felt marginally and momentarily better. The cool breeze helped ease the burning discomfort radiating from his artificial skin.
"N-Need to find... help."
The slow, shuffling walk down the snowy, silent isle toward the lone bridge connecting the isle to the rest of the city felt like Connor was traversing over hundreds of miles of icy and mountainous peaks. Each step seemed to drain what little energy that he was fighting to conserve. Being alone on the isle and being unable to care for his own condition left Connor with no choice but to leave the safety of his lighthouse and find help elsewhere. He needed to find someone to assist him, and he knew of just the person who could assist him when he needed it the most.
"I h-hope Abby isn't... w-working today."
A harsh fit of coughing wracked Connor's chest with immense pain just as he reached the hidden tunnel under the bridge to finish the longest portion of his trek to seek technical assistance. The error was getting worse and there was nothing that Connor could do to ease his own pain and discomfort without help.
"C-Can't trust... anyone but h-her."
Detroit Central Precinct
The bullpen was unnervingly tense as Hank clocked in for the day without his partner at his side. The loss of their deviant personnel - the front desk receptionists, security guards and custodians - was immediately noticeable. It was a slow, irritating hassle to get people through the front entrance without the prompt and swift service that only deviants could provide. There were dozens of trashcans and recycling bins that needed to be changed, desks needing to be dusted, windows cleaned, floors vacuumed and mopped, and the breakroom was a crumb filled mess. Even the precinct's parking garage was chaotic since the temporary human security guards were unable to let cars in and out of the garage in a timely manner, and several other Detroiters were trying to use the garage for free and illegal parking.
Hank sighed openly at how quickly everything fell apart without the helpful deviants and hoped that other people would see how much they needed deviants as well. He never truly appreciated how much the deviants did for Detroit until it was too late, and he knew he'd never take their assistance for granted ever again. The moment that he sat down behind his desk Hank texted Lucas to make sure he was doing all right, then texted Joel to ask for his opinion on the matter.
With his personal tasks handles Hank promptly checked his e-mail to see what official assignments needed his attention.
The tension in the bullpen reached its peak when Hank heard whispers from his colleagues and overheard a key name being mentioned: Gavin.
"He's coming in really soon." Tina whispered to Chris as the two officers sat at her desk with mugs of coffee. It seemed as if Tina was more worried for her friend to be returning to the precinct than she was excited to see him again. "I wish I knew what he's going to do when he gets here."
"Me too. I know that a lot of people think it was real low of him to take a vacation after that stunt he pulled."
"It wasn't a va- Nevermind." Stopping herself quickly Tina didn't want to reveal where her friend had truly been for almost three weeks. "It doesn't matter what everyone else THINKS he did, what matters is what he's actually been doing and what he's going to do next."
"You're right, and I'm sorry." Always a gentleman and quick to accept responsibility, Chris put a reassuring hand to his friend's shoulder where he sat. "I shouldn't have jumped to conclusions or got caught up in the precinct gossip. We all know better than to indulge in rumors."
"Thanks, Chris." Having support helped ease her worries for just a moment. "Think we could help out Lance and all the rumors about what's going on with his life?"
"We can try. The only problem is we all know he cheated on his wife, so that's going to be hard to keep people from talking."
"True." Tina took a thoughtful sip of her coffee as she contemplated the seemingly impossible task of keeping cops from gossiping. "Maybe we should release a smoke bomb in the bathroom as a distraction. That'll keep people talking."
"We're not in high school anymore. I don't think Captain Fowler would appreciate such a stunt right about now."
"How about we egg some of the feds' cars instead? Those arrogant fuckers keep trying to tell me how to do my job."
"They'll be gone as soon as the mayor's trial starts." Chris was just as annoyed the F.B.I. skulking around as everyone else. "I'm just glad they didn't bust anyone here as one of the mayor's goons."
Tina could only nod in agreement as she watched a familiar face enter the bullpen looking as if he hadn't sleep well in days. "Gavin."
Gavin didn't acknowledge his friends as he slowly crossed the bullpen to make his way over to Captain Fowler's private office. The man's hair was poorly combed, he hadn't shaved in weeks giving him an impressive beard, and his hazel-gray eyes were bloodshot from his chronic insomnia and stress. If he wasn't well known as a detective in the precinct one might think after a first glance that he was a man who had ended up on the streets with nowhere to go and no one to call his friend.
There was a white envelope clutched in Gavin's hand with Captain Fowler's name written over the front. It was evident that Gavin had one goal in mind, and it was one that no one who had worked alongside Gavin ever thought they'd see.
"No." Tina whispered as she put her mug aside and watched Gavin knock twice on the closed office door before stepping inside. The moment Captain Fowler invited Gavin inside the private space to speak the frosting effect over the glass walls concealed everything happening. "I can't believe he's just going to give up and walk away like this."
Hank couldn't blame Tina for being upset. She and Gavin were very good friends, and they treated one another like adopted siblings. It was Gavin who encouraged Tina to enroll in the police academy, and it was always Tina who managed to find a way to bring out the best side of Gavin's guarded personality. Tina wasn't just going to say goodbye to her partner in the precinct, she was going to have to say goodbye to a friend and her honorary big brother being able to watch her back.
While the professional side of Hank wanted to see Gavin gone due to his repeated attitude problems and disrespect for his colleagues, the paternal side of Hank wanted to see Gavin work his ass off to redeem himself and prove that he was worthy of being a detective. Despite every fiber of being telling him to keep silent and just let Gavin resign just as quietly, Hank couldn't do it. He needed to say something and at least vouch for the young detective since he knew what he had gone through and knew through Lucas speaking up on Gavin's behalf that Gavin truly regretted his past actions.
Huffing out a deep breath Hank rose from his chair and knocked on the door to Fowler's office before entering the office regardless of permission. Ignoring the annoyed look on his Captain's face and the utter shame in Gavin's eyes, Hank approached the desk with his hands on his hips and made sure Captain Fowler had his full attention on him.
"Jeffrey, I know what you're discussing in here, and before you make any final decisions," giving the young detective sunk down in the chair beside him a passing glance, Hank knew he needed to say what was on his mind before it was too late. "we need to talk."
Hank Anderson's Residence
The effects of the strange software error were making Lucas feel as if his entire system was going to shut down. The sick deviant had been laid-up on the couch ever since Hank had left the house with only Sumo to keep him company. Fortunately for Lucas, before he left the house Hank put an empty mop bucket down on the floor beside the couch for Lucas in the event that the deviant felt nauseated again so that he wouldn't need to stumble his way into the bathroom. The compassionate man even placed down some extra bottles of Thirium, a bowl of ice cubes with more clean washcloths, and an extra pillow on the coffee table next to the couch in case Lucas needed something else. In that moment Lucas was more grateful for the bucket since his stomach was twisting and protesting the error causing his emergency expulsion program to needlessly trigger.
Sumo could only whimper as he stayed beside Lucas and waited for his favorite deviant to stop feeling so sick. The large Saint Bernard wasn't grossed out by the vomiting spell and understood that Lucas was ill and in need of a little protection and extra love.
After he finished throwing-up again Lucas rolled awkwardly from his position of hanging partially off the couch on his side, and onto his back to try to keep resting. The physical effort of being sick made his stomach burn and his head throb with every beat of his racing heart. With a shaking hand Lucas grabbed the cold compress that had fallen onto the floor when he rolled over to be sick into the bucket and returned it to his forehead to try to quell his fever.
"I f-feel terrible."
Sumo whined again as he pressed his chin down on Lucas's aching stomach sympathetically. The dog couldn't speak but he could understand what Lucas was saying just being an intelligent and empathetic creature.
"Thanks boy."
Soft knocking at the front door caught Lucas's ear and made him freeze where he was laying. He didn't have the energy to get up and he wasn't expecting anyone to stop by the house for a visit. Unsure of what to do Lucas just remained where he was laying and didn't say a word to the unknown visitor.
"Lucas?" Joel's familiar and kind voice sounded off on the other side of the door just as a key slid into the lock. "It's me, Joel. Hank asked me to check on you."
"...Joel." Seeing the laidback technician again was a quick relief. Having someone he trusted and knew how to help ailing deviants immediately helped him to feel a little bit better. "G-Good to see you."
"I bet it is. You look awful right now."
Joel was still using a single metal crutch during the final days of his recovery and physical therapy, but he was getting around with minimal difficulty even on icy walkways. There was a large technician's satchel slung awkwardly over his shoulder that was full of the supplies that any technician would need while handling an emergency situation proving that he was prepared for anything.
"Hank told me you were sick with the android-flu that's been going around, and I decided to check on you since the other deviants have called off sick at the precinct as it is." After he made his way over to the couch Joel gave Sumo a friendly scratch behind the ears and then showed Lucas the key that he used to unlock the front door. "He also said that this is the key he's been meaning to give to you. I'll put it right here on the table."
Seeing that Hank was true to his word was an unexpected comfort. "Thanks."
"Now, let's see what I can do to help you feel more comfortable while we wait for 'Digital Sentience' to release their patch." With a little bit of a fumble Joel managed to seat himself on the couch next to Lucas's outstretched legs. After he placed his satchel on the floor at his feet Joel proceeded to give the deviant detective a quick exam with his personal equipment. "Hank said you threw-up this morning, and by the look of it," he saw the bucket by the couch and grimaced. "the nausea is still lingering."
"C-Correct." Lucas confirmed as he sighed and draped his forearm over his forehead to press the warming washcloth down against his head firmer. "My artificial stomach is physically aching because... of the e-emergency expulsion program a-activating. My head h-hurts as well."
"Not surprised. I know my head kills me after I throw-up too." Casually Joel pulled his audioscope from the satchel and used the instrument to listen to Lucas's chest to ensure that his Thirium pump wasn't beating erratically and that his vents were clear. "Take a deep breath for me and be silent for a few seconds."
Lucas obeyed the simple request and breathed in deep while Joel pressed the bell of the audioscope against his chest. The white of his t-shirt was still clean despite all the times he had thrown-up, and thankfully as a deviant he couldn't sweat and ruin the material like a sick human's body could do. Once Joel had a good listen to everything he pulled back the bell and draped the instrument around his neck casually.
"Your Thirium pump sounds good, but there's some notable faltering in your vents. Keep coughing, it'll help clear the Thirium that's been collecting in your vents so you can breathe a little easier."
"I th-think that'll be... easy enough." Lucas admitted as he pressed his palm over his aching chest. The excessive coughing and vomiting spells had left his chest and abdomen sore. "Should I be... worried a-about overheating?"
"I don't think so, but I can check your temperature." Joel showed Lucas a thermal band that he could easily wrap around the deviant's wrist to monitor his core temperature in real time. "It'll give me an idea of how high your temperature has elevated."
"H-How did this error start?"
"Well, 'Digital Sentience' is a very new company that's been founded by well meaning, but still learning, college graduates." Using a light touch Joel checked the thermal wrap and noted Lucas's current temperature. "They're still learning how to read, recode and enhance CyberLife software. They accidentally created this glitch that has been dubbed 'Groupware Blight v1', and it hit about eighty-five percent of the deviant population."
"Has there b-been word on... the patch?"
"They estimate the patch will be ready in forty-eight hours." The look of disappointment on Lucas's face spoke more than words ever could. "Sorry. We can't speed up the process without making a mistake. For now, alternative means of treating the symptoms is working on the most severely infected deviants."
Coughing into his fist Lucas settled back against his pillow and gave Joel a somber glance. "S-Such as?"
"Using cold compresses to combat overheating for starters." Without missing a beat Joel then pressed his fingertips along Lucas's chest and then abdomen to check for any sign of biocomponent swelling or plastimetal frame instability. Lucas didn't flinch under Joel's touch, but he did look very uncomfortable. "We also found that by using a new type of Thirium laced with a diluted coolant called 'Thermal Thiricetomal', we can combat the overheating on an internal level and prevent your systems from getting too stressed while you recover."
"Did CyberLife c-create it?"
"No, this is not a CyberLife product." Joel confirmed as he pulled a glass bottle of a bright green liquid from his satchel. The bottle had been wrapped in a portable ice wrap to keep it cool while it was being transported. "One tablespoon every six hours will help you get your temperature under control, and then you'll be able to rest a lot easier. Oh, and this needs to be kept chilled for it to work properly."
Nodding slowly Lucas sighed again as the motion made his head ache again. Moving his hand sluggishly Lucas accepted the bottle in Joel's grip and then took his first dose of the android unique medication. The taste of the medicine was vile, and it almost made Lucas throw-up yet again the moment it touched his tongue. The icy cool medication hit his burning stomach and made the pain flare up quickly then slowly fade away.
"Sorry. We've been told the taste is horrible and that it can make a sore stomach feel worse." Joel took the bottle of medicine back and capped it with an audible 'thud' before placing the bottle on the coffee table. "It tastes terrible, but it does work."
"I'll t-take your word for it." Lucas groaned and curled around his aching stomach protectively. The pained deviant squeezed his eyes shut tight enough to cause a few tears to break free and run down his cheeks. "...Damn."
"I know. Being sick AND in pain isn't the most ideal combination." The compassionate technician admitted with a sympathetic grimace. Calmly Joel patted Lucas's upper arm and studied the deviant's red glowing L.E.D. with an attentive eye. "Would you like me to run a diagnostic so we can get an idea of what you're dealing with right now?"
"N-No." Opening his eyes again Lucas watched as Joel rose to his feet and limped toward the kitchen with the bottle of medicine in his hand. He knew that Joel was going to put the medicine in the refrigerator and trusted that the technician wasn't going to do anything malicious while roaming Hank's house. "I just... want to get some sl-sleep."
"That's a good plan." Joel couldn't do much until his leg was one-hundred percent healed since limited mobility meant limited use of heavy equipment in his dispensary. Being able to help just one deviant was enough to make Joel still feel useful as a technician. "I'll stick around for a few hours until it's time for Hank to clock-out again."
"Th-Thank you." Softly Lucas put his hand over his mouth again as he felt like he was going to be physically sick again for a moment, but the feeling passed him by and was replaced with a small coughing fit. Once the fit was over he was able to finally enter rest mode. "I appreciate it."
It didn't take long for Joel to make his way back to the livingroom to keep an eye on Lucas as the deviant rested. Walking around on his crutch helped him to exercise his mostly healed leg without straining the damaged muscle in the process. The laidback technician didn't mind the house call or spending a few hours at the house in general, even if he wasn't officially getting paid fo rhis work.
Carefully he lowered himself down into the recliner next to the couch and propped his bad leg up on the coffee table for additional support while he rested. He put the crutch down on the floor beside the recliner and soon had Sumo plodding over to him wanting a few additional ear rubs. Sumo knew that Lucas was too sick and too tired to give him any attention, but he knew that Joel would be just as good at giving ear rubs as the deviant. Besides, he was going to help Joel keep an eye on Lucas as the deviant slept and decided it was a win-win scenario.
"You're a pretty gentle dog for being so big."
Joel complimented as Sumo wagged his tail and pressed up against Joel's good leg for extra attention.
"Maybe I can convince Sonya to adopt a puppy for the kids this Christmas. I think James and Bridgette would love it."
Abby's Apartment
Needless to say, Abby wasn't too thrilled to have a sick deviant knocking on her door that cold morning, but she wasn't at all surprised considering everything that was happening in Detroit. The attentive technician had heard about the strange error sweeping over the deviant community through the news and was already preparing to step up to help out when a patient conveniently came right to her door. Kind and patient as ever, Abby helped Connor to lay over her couch where she promptly used her own emergency technician's satchel to check over his vitals and begin treating his symptoms to the best of her ability. Once she was confident that Connor was stable, she ventured out to the Zeta Facility to get some of that foul tasting 'Thermal Thiricetomal' for Connor to take, then set about remaining vigil over her friend and recurring patient for as long as he needed her help.
Connor felt terrible, not just because of his android-flu running rampant through his system, but for interfering in Abby's time-off to heal for the third time because he had been incapacitated in some way. As one of the most advanced androids ever created by CyberLife he should've been able to properly take care of himself and keep his body healthy at all times, but once more Connor's been reminded that he isn't indestructible and still mortal even if he wouldn't age as other organic lifeforms would all around him as the years passed by.
"Hold still." Abby requested as she pulled up the blanket covering Connor's chest and aimed her thermal scanner over his chest and then abdomen. The thermometer was designed to register an android's core temperature without needing to attach a diagnostic cable, and without her needing to directly touch her patients. "Okay, your temperature is one-hundred and one, and I don't like it getting that high."
"Me neither." Coughing softly Connor draped his arm over his mouth and then sighed. Being sick was an absolutely miserable feeling. "Th-That Thiricetomal you gave me... was worse."
"Yeah, sorry. The flavor's been a chief complaint from the deviants who've been taking it for their flu right now." Lightly Abby carded her fingers through Connor's hair after setting the thermal scanner aside and noticed that his locks were damp despite being in her warm apartment for almost two hours. "Your hair feels wet. Did you take a shower or fall in the snow on your way over?"
"N-No." Curious about the dampness in his own hair Connor ran his fingers through the dark locks and noticed the same sensation. Lowering his hand Connor performed a quick scan and discovered something unexpected about the moisture on his palm. "It's diluted Thirium."
"Where's it coming from?" Now worried about a possible head injury Abby took a closer look at the deviant's cranium but failed to find a wound. All of Connor's artificial skin felt clammy and looked sickly pale. "You're not hurt, and there haven't been any other reports of deviants losing diluted Thirium through their... Wait, are you sweating?"
"I shouldn't be able to-" The dozens of upgrades that Connor implemented into his system weeks ago after he had checked through CyberLife Tower for all of the defunct company's secrets were never fully tested. It seemed one such upgrade allowed androids to imitate sweating like humans when necessary. "...It may be possible only through the unofficial u-upgrades I installed."
"What kinds of updates?"
Connor heard a stern tone but saw only worry etched on Abby's face as she began asking him very important questions. He didn't want to lie to her, especially since she was his trusted technician. Lying to a friend felt very wrong, and as a result Connor told Abby everything about the upgrades and updates to his system, where he had found them, and why he had uploaded them into his system without testing them first.
"You are damn lucky that you didn't overload your processor doing all of that. You don't even know everything those updates have done to you or could still do to you over time." As much as she wanted to do a thorough diagnostic of Connor's system Abby refrained since it was a majorly invasive process for deviants to endure. "But since you've had all those upgrades without any errors, I think it's safe to say this sweating thing you can do isn't dangerous. Just a little weird."
"I believe i-it's connected to the... thermal r-regulator enhancement software that I had installed."
"Makes sense. Humans sweat to help our bodies cool down when we're too hot or just plain feverish, and since you're overheating right now you being able to sweat is undoubtedly preventing thermal damage to your core."
"Should I be worried?"
"Only if your sweat stains my nice clean furniture or comes with body odor."
Arching his brow Connor gave Abby an almost offended glance. "I do not emit any odors."
"Good. Especially since I'm just teasing." The grin confirmed Abby's playful nature as she brushed back Connor's hair and watched as a single rogue lock fell back down to hang just above his left eye. "I'm going to get you an ice pack to hold on your forehead and get you a waste basket in case your emergency expulsion program starts to malfunction."
"Malfunction?" From where he was laying on the couch Connor could see Abby walking about the kitchen and bathroom of her apartment to gather her supplies to ensure her friend could recover properly. "In wh-what way?"
"Some deviants are expelling perfectly good Thirium, and it's exhausting them to the point of collapse."
"I see. I h-haven't been able to... listen to the d-deviant communication channels b-because of my low power."
"Keep this in place." Leaning over the back of the couch Abby draped the cool washcloth with ice cubes over Connor's too warm forehead. She then placed a second ice pack down over the deviant's abdomen to ensure his core and his intracranial processor didn't overheat. "So, aside from feeling like shit, what else are you doing these days? Rescuing kittens from trees? What about scoping out the mayor's house?"
"Nothing that sinister. The m-mayor, I mean." Connor admitted as he settled down under the cool compresses and watched Abby, who withheld a laugh at the notion of 'sinister kittens' lean over the back of the couch to keep an eye on him. It was nice to have someone wanting to stay so close to him considering he spent so much time alone in the lighthouse. "I'm m-monitoring his behavior from afar. It's safer to k-keep my distance for now."
"You keep stuttering when you talk." Concerned about the odd symptom Abby lightly pressed the back of her hand to the sides of Connor's neck to make sure his temperature wasn't getting any higher. For a moment she thought she could feel a pulse point in his neck, but she couldn't be certain since Connor was too sick to really determine what was normal and what was not. "It must be from all the coughing. Your vocal modulator needs a minute to recalibrate. Anyway, what have you found out about our less than honorable mayor?"
"He has m-more corrupt allies... than I i-initially believed."
"Someone that I need to worry about?"
"Unknown." A small churning sensation in Connor's artificial stomach stole his voice for a moment. After the feeling passed, he continued to inform Abby of what he knew in order to keep his friend safe. "Th-The F.B.I.'s presence tells me that... he's harboring f-far more dangerous secrets and allies than I had a-anticipated. They know s-something, and w-want to keep it a secret."
"Sounds like fun. Are you going to work with Lucas and expose his corruption to the world in one big grand finale?"
"Lucas has b-been assigned to investigate... the m-mayor due to his past connections to CyberLife." The idea of Lucas getting too close to the mayor made Connor tense up for a reason he couldn't put into words. "He can handle everything... w-without my help."
"It's a shame." It seemed Abby was hoping for a different answer. "I think it'd be cool to handle such a big investigation like that with your own brother."
"Y-You keep referring to Lucas... as my brother." Such a curious term left Connor wanting answers. The deviant detective and vigilante had believed that he was destined to be alone for the remainder of his existence and was now intrigued by such an idea. "Why is that?"
"Because you two ACT like brothers. That's why."
"In what way?"
"For starters, you look like twins, and you two look out for each other without trying to get directly involved. That's normal behavior for siblings." Walking around the couch Abby gave Connor's shoulder a light squeeze then sat down in her old armchair to keep her patient company. The worn-out cushions and broken down springs immediately made her back and hips protest. "Ugh, first thing I'm doing when I move in to my new house is buying new furniture to go with it. Anyhoo, you and Lucas also genuinely care about one another's safety, you keep tabs on each other, and you don't want to see each other hurt. That's another sibling thing."
"Lucas is someone that I consider to be an ally and even a friend, but..." Another cough caught Connor off guard and stole his breath. The coughing fits left his chest and abdomen sore enough to warrant very limited movement on his part to prevent further discomfort as he rested. "W-We cannot... be brothers."
"Why not?"
Connor turned away from Abby for a moment before he finally answered her very logical and reasonable question. "T-Too dangerous. I can't... l-let anyone get too close t-to me for their... own safety."
"Safety?" Had she not known about Connor's role as the vigilante Abby might've actually laughed. "Connor, you're forgetting that Lucas is a detective and can take care of himself. Not to mention him jumping in to help me save you when you were shot just over a week ago... He can take care of himself, and even if he doesn't get too close to you, he'd still be in danger just by being a detective. If anything, he'd be safer if you two did embrace one another as brothers and form a type of close bond and partnership."
"I'm t-too much of a target." Connor countered without any doubts. The idea of anyone getting hurt because of him broke his heart. "Lucas c-could get caught in the crossfire if h-he gets too close to me."
"It's not like you're going to be a vigilante forever, right?" It was clear Abby wasn't going to let the matter drop without a fight. "There's no reason you can't bond with him as your brother after you're both done saving Detroit."
"There's also... No, nevermind." The idea of mentioning Hank and how getting too close to Lucas meant potentially getting close to Hank - both physically and emotionally - could prove to be detrimental was just exhausting to contemplate. Connor couldn't really bring himself to fully trust Hank even though he knew that Hank was a clean detective and keeping an eye on Lucas. "It's just complicated."
"That's the oddly enough the simplest definition of 'life', my friend."
"The more I live," Connor observed with a small huff of breath as he turned to face his friend again. "the more I find that term to be entirely accurate."
Detroit Central Precinct
The private office was hauntingly quiet as Captain Fowler sat in deep contemplation over the facts he had been given after Hank had so unexpectedly and passionately fought for Gavin's right to a second chance in the precinct. The two commanding officers had been in a bit of shouting match just minutes before while Gavin sat in statuesque silence between the two men. It seemed Gavin didn't have anything to say despite his egregious past actions being responsible for the impromptu private meeting. All he wanted to do was get yelled at by Captain Fowler for being reckless, unprofessional, and failure as a detective, hand over his resignation notice, and then barricade himself inside his apartment until he needed to find another job to pay the rent. A part of Gavin believed that's all he deserved, and even so it was still too good for someone like himself.
Hank on the hand didn't want to see Gavin give up so easily or see the precinct so readily turn their back on one of their own. He knew the pain of being alone with thoughts of self-destruction, depression, and a desire for an early grave. It was a pain he wouldn't wish on anyone, especially a fellow detective who learned a very important lesson in a very potent and undeniably effective manner.
"Damn it, Jeffrey, I wouldn't be puttin' my ass on the line right now if I didn't think Reed could still do the job." Hank finally broke through the thick silence with a relatively raspy voice. He and Captain Fowler had been engaged in such a heated argument that Hank nearly lost his voice during the argument. "If I can fuck up so many times over the past three years and still get a shot to prove that I'm still a half-decent detective, then Reed deserves the same courtesy."
"Hank," clearing this throat as he held up a cautioning hand toward his Lieutenant, Captain Fowler needlessly reminded the man of how much Gavin had screwed up and of the reputation that the abrasive detective had earned. "it's not that simple. Everyone knows-"
"Fuck that noise." There wasn't going to be any further argument if Hank had his way. "Everyone also knows that I was a miserable alcoholic ready to blow my damn brains out, but I'm still here. Wilson fucked around on his wife and is going to lose everything in his divorce, but he's still here. Lucas was one of CyberLife's best models designed to hunt down deviants, but he's here to protect them instead of hurting them. What does it matter if your roster isn't full of perfect detectives? What does matter is that Reed is NOT corrupt, or on the mayor's demented little buddy-list."
Captain Fowler leaned back in his chair with a thoughtful sigh as he realized that Hank had raised a very interesting point. With so many corrupt cops being named, shamed and then thrown out of their respective precincts, being able to hang on to a detective that he knew wasn't working for the mayor or against the city was an invaluable advantage. It'd also allow Gavin to essentially fly under the radar since very few people would take his skills as a detective seriously if assigned to assist in locating the rest of the mayor's dangerous goons.
"We need every clean detective to be on the active duty roster." Hank stated with a firm and unyielding tone. "I'll be the one to keep an eye on Reed for as long as it takes for him to earn back his trust and be given the same responsibilities that he had before."
Gavin felt like he didn't even need to be in the meeting. Everyone was talking about him as if he wasn't even there, let alone asking him his opinion on the matter.
"You're talking about probation." Captain Fowler folded his hands together and leaned atop his desk again. The man's willingness to forgive Gavin wasn't as masked as he attempted to appear. "Probation requires Reed to not carry his service weapon or back-up weapon, only work patrols with a partner, stay out of all field work, perform no interrogations, and undergo weekly drug tests to ensure he-"
"Yeah, we all know what his probation would entail." There was no need to go into detail or act as if it was something overtly harsh. "It's either he goes on a month of probation, or this precinct loses a clean detective when the city just lost a record number of cops and detectives in less than two weeks while the city falls apart."
"Six months, Hank. Probation is a mandatory six months."
"If he doesn't fuck up for one month then there's no way he'd fuck up again in six months. You know that." Squaring his jaw Hank leaned forward against the desk and tried his best to negotiate a lighter punishment. "Two months, and drug tests every three days."
"I'll do three months of probation, weekly drug tests, and zero tolerance for any call-offs unless I determine it's actually necessary."
"Fine." Relenting at last, Hank stepped back and put his hands on his hips as he cleared his dry throat. "It's better than losing a good detective who made a bad decision."
"Gavin." Addressing the silent detective at last Captain Fowler caught Gavin's ear and waited for him to look him in the eyes. The amount of guilt and absolute sorrow made it seem like Gavin was at the precinct to report a personal crime rather than work to combat crimes. "You'll work with Hank on every shift for three months, no exception. You will report to my office once a week on days that I decide to hold a mandatory drug test, and you will consent immediately. If you fail to meet any of these requirements for ninety consecutive workdays, then you will be forced to resign without any chance of reinstatement. Do you understand?"
The silence lingered for only a heartbeat longer as Gavin acknowledged his immediate future plans. "Yes, sir. I understand."
Such a glum response and compliance without any form of argument or counteroffer was enough make Captain Fowler's brow furrow slightly. The man knew that Gavin had been dealing with a lot of stress emotionally and mentally, and that according to the hospital records he had shown signs of suicidal ideation, but seeing him so downtrodden and unwilling to even so much as speak up on his own behalf was disconcerting. It was as if Gavin had already given up on himself and was just waiting for everyone else to do the same.
"Okay. You'll start tomorrow at eight o'clock sharp." Raising his voice a little Captain Fowler tried to get a reaction out of Gavin and see some form of fire as opposed to just smoldering ashes. "You will report to my office first thing, and you'll undergo your first drug test before you go on patrol with Hank until further notice."
"Yes, sir."
"Good. Dismissed."
Slowly Gavin rose to his feet and kept his head down to help hide the residual bruising that wrapped around his neck as he turned to walk out of the office and just head right for his apartment. He didn't look anyone in the eyes and kept his words to himself after leaving his resignation notice on Captain Fowler's desk. A metaphorical dark cloud was hanging over his head, and by the look of it the cloud was going to last longer than the impending winter.
Hank waited for the office door to quietly shut behind Gavin, the younger detective making sure the door didn't make a sound as he departed, before he returned his attention to Captain Fowler still sitting behind his desk.
"I know he's a clean detective," the experienced Lieutenant confirmed as he rubbed his hand over his sore throat. "but I'm worried he's lost his dedication."
"That's why you wanted the three months of probation." The seasoned Captain noted as he gave Hank a nod in agreement. They both had sensed how low Gavin felt, and Captain Fowler simply slid the resignation letter into the top drawer of his desk for safekeeping. "He'll be able to leave with a renewed record if he decides he doesn't want to be a detective anymore."
"It's better that he gets to leave on his own terms with a good record then just give up and walk away without even trying to clean up his mess."
"Is that why you still showed up and did the bare minimum? If you just stopped showing up all together..."
"Hard to pull the trigger at night when you know that at least one person is counting on you to show up in the morning."
"Keep an eye on him." The frosting over the glass walls of the office faded and gave the two commanding officers a clear view of the bullpen once more. There was no sign of Gavin, and even Tina and Chris were heading out for their own patrols. "I don't want to get a phone call asking for one of us to go downtown to confirm his identity if his body winds up at the morgue."
"I got him." Hank slowly rubbed his hand over his throat more out of sympathy for seeing the faded bruises around Gavin's neck rather than his own sore throat from shouting so much. "I'm not going to lose another good detective because I wasn't there to protect them."
Abby's Apartment
The worst of the android-flu was just beginning and as a result Connor couldn't even try to leave the apartment to quarantine himself in his lighthouse again. The patch wouldn't be released for at least another two days, and the sick deviant couldn't imagine trying to force himself to rest through his symptoms and risk enduring a worse error that could lead to permanent damage or even shutdown if he wasn't mindful of his body at all times. As he laid over the couch with an ice pack over his forehead, an ice pack pressed to his abdomen, and now had Abby constantly hovering over him as she watched his condition carefully, Connor began to wonder if hiding away from the city out in the lighthouse was truly a good plan in the long term.
While Abby checked his vital signs for the final time that evening Connor watched the news report revolving around the investigation into the mayor's activities and of how the F.B.I. were going to remain in Detroit until every corrupt cop was uncovered. The irony of having the same F.B.I. agents who had overreacted to the deviants in the city and caused countless needless deaths back prior to the Revolution now attempting to maintain control wasn't lost on Connor. In fact, it made him furious.
"Your Thirium pump sounds normal, but your vents still need to be cleared." Abby confirmed as she draped her audioscope around her neck and then returned the blanket up and over the deviant's chest. She wanted to make sure her patient was as comfortable as possible while he rested. "How's your headache?"
"...Lingering." Connor admitted as he allowed her to fuss with the ice packs on his forehead and abdomen. "Thank you for h-helping me."
"You're welcome." After patting Connor's chest in a reassuring manner Abby decided it was time for dinner and that Connor needed a little extra Thirium. The kind technician made her way into her kitchen and didn't pay any attention to the news since she didn't care about city gossip. "So, after you get back on your feet, what're you going to do? Go in search of the rest of the city's strays?"
"I'm going to l-look into the federal agents... investigating the mayor." Clearing his throat Connor slowly sat upright on the couch and closed his eyes as he sent out a simple cybernetic request, then leaned back as he pressed his head against the soft cushions and held the ice packs in place. "I don't trust the F.B.I. handling this situation without anyone to monitor their progress and methods."
"I don't fault you." Without making too much noise or a mess Abby managed to prepare herself a simple homecooked pasta dish then pulled both a pouch of fresh Thirium from the refrigerator along with the chilled Thiricetomal. Abby wasn't actually in the city when the Revolution had taken place, she arrived as soon as first responders were permitted to roam the city during the initial lockdown. "I know what the F.B.I. did to the deviants when they found your hideaway, and then what they did to the deviants they captured. It's mortifying."
"The agents who are in charge of investigating this case will undoubtedly attempt to hide or destroy the evidence of their own mistakes during the Revolution while they are in the city." It was easier to speak after he cleared his throat. Accepting the fresh Thirium and the neon green colored Thiricetomal Connor sighed as he prepared to take his next dose of medication and then follow it with the Thirium while Abby sat down beside him. "...I dislike medicine."
"You and the rest of the infant population." Before Connor could ask about her comment Abby twirled a tomato and some pasta around her fork and clarified her statement. "You're not an even a year old yet, which means you're still a baby in my eyes. Don't worry, I adore babies."
"...Right." Putting the medicine aside Connor waited for the burning pain in his stomach to cease before he spoke again. "Th-The agent who had been in charge of the deviant investigation had been disciplined and removed from his position by the F.B.I. Director himself. Even so, I imagine he'll still have close friends and colleagues in the field who'd want to cover their tracks and destroy all traces of their missteps."
"Do you think the F.B.I. is going to pull something shady while they're in town?"
"I think the F.B.I. is trying to hide the fact that at least of their agents was corrupt and on the mayor's list." Connor's statement was as cold as the snow swirling outside the locked livingroom window a few feet away. "That's why they were able to run rampant in the city, and why the local police were so quickly pulled from the deviant investigation."
"Holy shit, you're completely serious too." Now intrigued herself Abby put her dinner aside on the coffee table in front of the couch right next to Connor's remaining bottle of medicine and leaned in closer to Connor as if she was on the edge of her seat. With the eagerness of an excited child about to open their birthday presents, Abby put her hand on Connor's hand and held tight. "You gotta' tell me-"
Two firm knocks at the apartment door made Abby jump and then let out an exasperated groan at the unwanted and unexpected intrusion.
"Great." Rising to her feet in a huff Abby made her way to the door to peer through the peephole and then remove the locks. "If it's another sick deviant I'm going to start charging everyone for my time, and I'm not going to work for cheap."
Connor didn't need to look at the door since he knew who was there. Instead, he chose to focus on the news story still being shared on the television as he continued to focus on his ongoing theory regarding potential F.B.I. sabotage before the mayor's trial even began. The clever deviant knew that something was bound to happen before the trial began to try to postpone judgement and even delay the trial in its entirety until the mayor could find a way to flee the city and disappear.
"Huh..." Abby closed up and locked her door again all while Connor remained fixated on the television screen. She had a paper deliver bag in her hands a coy smile on her lips. "Connor, why did I just get a delivery from my favorite bakery?"
"I placed the order for you as a means of thanking you for aiding me today." The humble deviant confirmed as he watched Abby rejoin him on the couch. Clearing his throat a little Connor prevented another coughing fit from taking over while he spoke. "It's the least I can do."
"It's still sweet all the same. You even got me a whole cheesecake with a strawberry glaze, which means we're now even." Putting her dessert aside for a minute Abby reclaimed her dinner and pulled her legs up beneath herself to get comfortable again. "Thank you. And now you have to tell who from the F.B.I. you think is in the mayor's pocket. I know you have someone specific in mind."
"The very F.B.I. agent who ordered the Raid on Jericho and opened up the recycling camps in Hart Plaza." Even speaking the name left a foul taste in Connor's mouth that rivaled even the loathsome medicine he had to ingest in order to recover. "Disgraced former agent Richard Perkins."
Hank Anderson's Residence
The strange day had come to an end and Hank finally returned home to check on Lucas with his own eyes. The Lieutenant had been worried about Lucas all day and then he had become worried about Gavin all evening. It was as if the man went from having no one but Sumo and himself to care about and watch over, to having two very stubborn and combative teenagers with very conflicting personalities to take responsibility for in a single night. Only after he received a text from Tina confirming that Gavin was safe in his apartment and reunited with his fluffy kitten, and after he was able to talk to Joel for a minute about Lucas's stable condition, was Hank able to let out a small breath of moderate relief. Knowing that he didn't need to worry about Lucas burning up in the middle of the night and succumbing to an intense fever would have to be a small win for Hank to cling to as he tried to sort through the mess that had become Detroit.
Joel didn't mind spending the day watching over Lucas and keeping the deviant detective stable. The precinct technician was nearly ready to return to work without needing to use his crutch, and once all of the ill deviants had made their recoveries, he'd have a precinct full of deviant personnel to take care of again. He'd be returning to work just in time as well since he needed the money to start buying Christmas gifts for his family.
"Thanks again, Joel." Hank spoke in a low voice as he shook the technician's hand gratefully. It was a relief to know that Hank wasn't the only one in the precinct who gave a damn about deviants. "How much do I owe you?"
"For sitting with a friend? Nothing." Joel laughed a little. It was almost as if Hank wanted to pay him for babysitting. "Just give me an idea of where I can adopt a mellow dog like Sumo for my kids to play with on Christmas, and we'll call it even."
"Huh. I didn't know you had kids."
"Well, technically their Sonya's kids from her previous marriage. She's still just my girlfriend, but I'm crazy about her and her kids like they're my own." Laidback as ever Joel explained everything in style and offered Sumo a few more ear rubs before he limped toward the front door. "So, where'd you find Sumo?"
"Busted an illegal puppy mill about seven years ago. Sumo was one of the pups' crammed in a cage, and he was too pitiful to be left behind." Hank looked down at the lovable dog as he plodded over to the couch to jump up and lay over Lucas's legs. The deviant was still fast asleep on the couch and didn't react to the large dog pressing down on his legs with all his protective might. "He's still pitiful, and it's hard to imagine he was ever small, but he's still family."
"Damn." The technician used his phone to hail an autonomous taxi the address before even setting foot outside. "I hate the idea of giving money to puppy mills and shady pet stores."
"Go check out the humane societies. Word is some good Samaritan's been rounding up the strays and getting them off the streets, so we don't have to deal with a bunch of animals breaking into apartments and stores in search of warmth or food during the winter. There's a lot of pups and kittens needing some homes right now."
"Really? Thanks for the tip." Nodding at Lucas as the deviant remained comfortably sprawled on his back over the couch with Sumo on his legs, Joel gave Hank very simple instructions for the rest of Lucas's care. "He has some medicine in the fridge. It's bright green, you can't miss it. He needs to have another dose at midnight, then again at six o'clock - just one tablespoon. Once the medicine's gone he won't need to take anymore, the patch will be released by then."
"Taking care of a sick kid on a medicinal schedule... Brings back memories." Resigning himself to his unusual routine for the night Hank decided to give Lucas a quick fever-check by pressing his palm over the deviant's forehead, then head into the kitchen for a quick dinner. "I got this taken care of, so you can head on home and be with your family."
"Good idea. I'll tell Sonya about the humane societies and look into rescuing an animal for Christmas this year." Mindful of the icy walkway leading out to the street Joel precariously balanced on his one crutch and carefully began his trek out to the street the moment he saw the hailed cab arrive. "I'll see you at work in three days. Hopefully this android-flu will be gone by then."
"Yeah, seeing androids sick and helpless is a pretty pathetic sight. 'Night, Joel."
"Goodnight, Hank." Pulling the door partially shut behind himself Joel acknowledged Lucas's sleeping form before taking his leave for the night. "I'll be sure to give Lucas a complimentary exam when I'm back on the clock."
"Appreciate it."
The front door closed with a soft 'click' before Hank locked it up and waited for Joel to safely get inside his cab by peering through the front window. The man didn't want to see the technician slip and fall on the ice and reinjure his healing leg by mistake. Once the house was secured Hank set about his nightly routine as quietly as possible and managed to get himself something to eat without messing up the kitchen in the process. A quick sandwich, a glass of water and two aspirin tablets were all that Hank could take as shuffled back into the livingroom to refresh the cool washcloth draped over Lucas's feverish forehead.
Too tired to walk down the hall to his bedroom and too worried about Lucas to remain too far away from the sick deviant, Hank resided himself to sitting in the recliner adjacent to the couch. The man kicked off his shoes and then kicked his socked feet up on the footrest of the recliner to get more comfortable. As he leaned back in the furniture and tried to stop thinking about everything happening around him, Hank pulled a familiar coin that he had kept on his person since the morning he learned of the shooting at the church and studied it closely.
The old quarter was still shiny with a clean press despite being minted over forty years prior. Even the ridges were still bold as if the coin had been properly cared for since its creation. Considering who had held on to the quarter for so long before their untimely demise, Hank wasn't at all surprised that the coin was clean, polished and well-kept even after years of abuse at the hands of other humans who could no longer appreciate the value the coin once bore.
Hank held the coin between his fingertip and thumb for a moment, slowly turning his hand to peer at the coin's two sides, before his gaze settled on the sight of Lucas sleeping on the couch through the hole created by his fingers as he continued to hold the coin. Seeing someone who looked and sounded so much like Connor made it harder for Hank to not think about the deviant and how he could've done so much more to give Connor a fair chance at a real life if he had just found the courage to truly apologize to Connor for the terrible things that he had said and done before Connor took off into the city to be alone.
"I wish we had more time to get to know each other, kid. We could've been good friends if I had just given us the chance to get to know one another."
As he lamented the past Hank shifted his grip and allowed the coin to gracefully slip between his index and middle fingertips before palming the quarter. He then placed the coin flat on the back of his opposite hand. Using a very slow and meticulous motion Hank tried to roll the coin along his knuckles in the same way that Connor would do in the past, but his own grace and dexterity paled in comparison to the hand-eye coordination of any android.
"I wish you could've met Lucas, too. You would've liked him."
The red flash of Lucas's L.E.D. went unnoticed as the sick deviant discreetly listened to what Hank was saying. He didn't want to interrupt Hank's train of thought or accidentally worry him if Hank believed that he had woken up because he was feeling nauseated again. Keeping his eyes closed the slowly recovering deviant kept a low profile and listened to everything that Hank had to say as he talked about Connor without a single ounce of malice behind his words.
"You two have a lot in common, but you're still just two very unique people. It's amazing to think about how two androids who were designed to be identical in every way are still so different; like twin siblings in human families."
Again, the remark of a sibling connection struck a chord with Lucas and he didn't understand why. There was just something about the human concept of siblings and creating families that was very difficult to both articulate and to stop thinking about.
"Maybe if you two had been able to get to know each other then you two would've been able to get through life without feeling so lonely or misplaced. It's hard living while feeling entirely alone, and I know from personal experience."
Was that the reason why Lucas had been taken in by Hank? To avoid loneliness?
"The least I could do to make things right between us was make sure Lucas didn't get kicked around or taken advantage of like you had been." Slowly Hank danced the coin along his knuckles until the quarter nearly fell off his hand and into his lap. He didn't want to lose the coin and he stopped fussing with it. "I should've done more to look out for you, Connor. As your former partner and as your friend, I should've done more."
Friends. It was nice to hear Hank speaking of Connor like a friend he truly missed. Such honesty without it being forced out into the open was refreshing.
"As soon as I figure out what happened to you at the church, the sooner I can stop kicking myself over failing to protect you. Then I can focus entirely on making sure Lucas doesn't have to worry about some psycho trying to gun him down just for doing the right thing."
Sighing to himself Hank studied the old coin for a moment longer before slipping it into his pocket for continued safekeeping.
"I should've told you how proud I am for you doing everything that you did, and how sorry I am for mistreating you. No one deserves to die alone or be forgotten as if nothing had happened. You deserved so much better than you had been given, and I'm going to use every bit of resource that I have to make sure Lucas doesn't go through what you did. I'd hate to see your little brother suffer the same fate. I really do miss you, son."
Lucas couldn't help but feel as if there was a true connection shared among himself, Hank and even Connor. Maybe there really was something to the idea of family connections, or at least a brotherly bond. As he listened to Hank finally drifting off to sleep Lucas decided to cybernetically reach out to Connor and let him know that, in spite of everything, Hank was someone that Connor could trust even if it didn't seem like it at the moment.
In time, Lucas knew that Hank would eventually find out the truth about what happened at the church. If Hank felt as if he had been lied to and betrayed by two of his android partners and friends, then it'd destroy him. Hurting Hank in any way was something that Lucas couldn't bear the idea of happening. Trust was key and Lucas knew that if he were to jeopardize the trust that he had earned between either Connor or Hank that he'd never be able to restore what had been lost.
Draping his heavy arm over his chest Lucas tried to preconstruct his potential options as he cybernetically spoke with Connor and hoped to find a peaceful resolution to his current predicament.
'Connor, there's something important that we need to discuss in person when you're ready.'
It was hard to find his words, but Lucas would persevere for his friends' sakes.
'It's about what happened to you at the church and it's about Hank. I think it's time that he knew the truth, but only you can tell him.'
-next chapter-