"Kindred Spirits"

Detroit Central Precinct: Bullpen

The rainy Saturday night reached its peak of frantic activity just before midnight. A concert downtown had ended positively until a few fans got too heated after going to a local bar to talk about that night's performance. What had started out as a debate between fans quickly escalated to a full-on brawl among violent drunks who were looking for some additional form of entertainment before the night was over. Numerous police officers were dispatched to the bar to break up the fight, arrest the drunks who threw any punches, and then let them sober up in a painful and embarrassing manner in the drunk-tank for the night. The officers and detectives working the graveyard shift had the misfortune of babysitting those same drunks and keeping them quiet until they either passed out or sobered up, but it wasn't anything too complicated for anyone with a modicum of experience to handle.

Sitting at his desk with his coin dancing along the knuckles of one hand and his eyes transfixed on the files taken from CyberLife archives on his terminal screen, Connor paid no mind to Chris, then Tina and then finally Gavin escorting their own rowdy drunk to their personal cell to calm down for the night. It seemed as if the rookie detective had developed a means of blocking out distracting voices in order to focus solely on his work, and yet there was something happening that Connor couldn't ignore as he glanced at his colleagues walking away from the holding cells.

While Tina and Chris looked a little disheveled after rounding up the three drunks from the bar, Gavin looked as if he had been a direct part of the brawl. The way the abrasive detective was pale in complexion, favoring his right knee, and supporting his ribs with one arm, indicated someone who had been in a serious physical altercation that didn't go entirely in their favor.

Out of instinct Connor reclaimed his A.R.I. glasses tucked into his blazer pocket to put over his eyes to perform a biometric scan over Gavin's vital signs, but the fear of a throbbing head or hallucinations returning made him hesitate. The detective wisely decided to return the glasses to his pocket and address Gavin in a direct but private manner to spare them both some needless pain and unwanted attention from their colleagues.

Connor managed to discreetly track Gavin after the wobbly detective made his way to the elevator to disappear from sight. Just as the doors shut Connor noticed on the light panel above the door that Gavin had descended to the precinct basement where the gym and locker room were located. Many officers kept extra sets of clothes down in the locker room to change into after a workout or in case an encounter with a suspect turned rowdy, and Connor imagined that Gavin was on his way down for the latter reason. After the elevator reached its destination Connor pressed his thumb against the 'call' button to join Gavin down in the basement without anyone noticing their departure.

Fortunately, the elevator car was vacant when Connor set foot inside to begin his descent. The last thing Connor wanted was an audience while he chose to check on Gavin out of a strange need to make sure the other detective wasn't harboring any hidden injuries from his colleagues. He wasn't sure why he suddenly cared if Gavin was injured or not, but he did know that he wouldn't be able to sleep well that night if he didn't do something to check on the other man.

The entire basement area was quiet. The only sound Connor could hear was a faint grunt of pain as someone did their best to tend to an injury in the relative privacy of the locker room. It felt somewhat invasive to check on Gavin without making his presence known despite knowing that if he announced that he was there to help out that Gavin would openly and repeatedly object to the assistance even if it was entirely warranted. Silently Connor crept down the corridor and peered inside the locker room where he saw Gavin sitting on a bench with his left leg pulled out of his jeans and a massive purple bruise stretching from the top of the joint toward the middle of his thigh and stretching below the joint to nearly halfway down his calf.

"Fuckin' asshole." Gavin muttered as he pressed his fingertips along his bruised knee as if trying to determine how serious the injury was. "Hope his liver rots."

"Detective Reed?" Connor called out to Gavin and made him both jump in surprise and swear as the abrupt motion made his already sore knee ache with a merciless throb. "Do you require medical attention?"

"No! And fuck off!" The response was of pain and frustration, not actual anger. "I got this."

"Your knee has likely been dislocated. You need to have the joint-"

"I said I got this, so beat it." Slowly Gavin stretched his left leg out and balanced his foot on the bench across from him to prop his knee up. As he pressed his hands along both sides of his knee Gavin winced and held his breath with anticipation of the impending pain he was about experience. "Don't need no damn doctor."

The way Gavin was refusing medical treatment made Connor wonder if he had put Hank through the same stressful situation in the past. He couldn't deny that anyone of sound mind had the right to refuse medical care, but he also couldn't deny that someone actively denying medical care could undoubtedly do far more harm than good to themselves out of sheer stubbornness or pride.

Without an invitation Connor entered the locker room entirely and made his way to the showers. Across from the rows of showers were a row of sinks and some clean towels and washcloths on shelves for convenience's sake. Utilizing his knowledge of emergency medical care Connor took a washcloth and soaked it in the coldest degree of water that the sink tap could produce, then wrung out the excess water before carrying it over to Gavin. Lightly he wrapped the washcloth around Gavin's bruised knee in hopes of using the cold water to both numb the pain and help reduce the swelling along the joint.

"Hey!" Instinctively Gavin tried to push the icy cold washcloth and Connor's hands away from his sore knee. "I told you-"

"Shut up." Replying sharply Connor didn't wait for Gavin to finish his protest. "If you don't let me assist you then I'll have to inform Captain Fowler that you returned from a call injured and refrained from properly documenting the incident."

"Fuckin' narc." Gavin had to admit defeat and cooperate only to avoid further disciplinary measures being taken against him. "Get on with it."

"How'd this happen?" The location of the injury made Connor immediately think of a fall down some stairs or being struck with a blunt force object. "Were you attacked by a mob?"

"No." Breathing through his clenched teeth made Gavin sound almost like a snake hissing at Connor just for being too close. "Motherfucker I was arrestin' slammed the car door on my knee and my side. Almost gave him whiplash with how hard I shoved him into the back of the car."

"Are you having trouble breathing?"

"No. Just hurts if I take in a deep breath right now."

"Your knee has been partially dislocated." The way the joint was resting told Connor everything he needed to know without getting an x-ray to confirm. "If you'd permit me, I could pop the joint back into place and secure it under some heavy wraps to hold it in place."

"Why would you wanna' help me?"

"Because I dislike going to the hospital as well." Connor admitted as he finally pulled the A.R.I. glasses from his pocket and powered them up. After he slipped on the synched glove, he was able to activate the program and switch it to a biometric scanner to see the damage to Gavin's knee and side far more clearly. "It feels very invasive to have someone treating you like a test subject rather than a person despite knowing that they're supposed to be helping you."

"Yeah... Hate bein' treated like nothing more than a damn number on a chart." Leaning back a little Gavin shifted his weight to lean on his arms and then turned his hands to let his fingers curl around the edge of the bench he was sitting on. "If you can pop it back in, then do it."

"Would you like something to bite down on?"

Gavin just shook his head as he pulled his wallet from his pocket and then bit down on the leather object before returning his grip to the bench. He took in a few deep breaths then nodded at Connor to let him know that he was ready.

Connor used A.R.I. to internally assess the damage then put both of his hands on both sides of Gavin's knee to apply a small amount of pressure. Once he was able to determine from which direction his knee has been dislocated, Connor wrapped one hand around Gavin's calf and placed his other hand down just above the bruised knee to hold in a supportive grip. With one firm tug Connor pulled Gavin's leg down and away from the knee just long enough to realign the limb with the swollen joint then pushed the limb and joint back into place.

"ARGGH..." Gavin growled through the wallet in his mouth then spit it out once he heard his knee crack and felt the joint realign. "FUCK!"

"Sorry, but I was able to pop your knee back into place." Slowly Connor released his grip on Gavin's legs made sure the cold washcloth stayed in place. "I'll get some ace bandages to support your knee. You'll be able to walk on it fairly well, but you should avoid running or excessing bending until the swelling goes down."

"Y-Yeah, fuckin' whatever." The sight of dark purple bruise on his knee was enough to warrant a ginger touch from Gavin as he examined the affected limb to make sure it wouldn't hurt to wrap up while Connor went to check out the first aid cabinet on the other side of the gym. "Shit, man. Why the fuck does it have to hurt so damn bad?"

"One of the many flaws of the human body." Connor replied as he found the necessary bandages in the first aid supplies and carefully bent Gavin's leg at just enough of an angle on the other bench to wrap up the knee without completely hindering its movement. "Part of the reason it took me so long to recover from my own past injury stemmed from the fact that our bodies would rather alert us to being in pain rather focus on actually healing our bodies from the injury causing the pain."

"Seems about right." Wincing a little, Gavin sat still and trusted that Connor would be able to properly wrap up his knee without causing further harm. "Every winter I can feel ever single break or fracture I suffered in the past as if I need a constant reminder of getting my ass kicked."

"Magnesium aids bone and joint pain." Having been horribly burned along his left shoulder had left Connor with a sense chronic pain in the joint that he had to work to rid himself of for his own sense sanity and health. "It should make your recovery from this injury far more bearable."

"Yeah, sure." Gavin sat as still as he could while he patiently waited for Connor to secure his knee in the supportive bandages. After a few seconds of tense silence Gavin sighed and decided to offer his own advice as thanks for Connor's help. "Vitamin E oil."

"Pardon?" Connor's brow arched but he never took his eyes off his work as he tended to Gavin's knee. "What does that have to do with anything?"

"It helps with scars."

Slowly Connor lifted his gaze and made eye contact with Gavin. He knew what Gavin was referring to without actually needing to mention the fire.

"I've been using it on my face since I was about fifteen." Lightly Gavin traced the scar along his nose as he spoke. "It won't make the scar disappear entirely, but it'll make is fade enough to not be a total distraction any time you look at it."

"...I'll keep that in mind."

"For the record, it was pretty ballsy of you to risk your life to save that technician." Gavin wasn't one to openly give compliments, especially to someone he didn't like, but he couldn't deny that Connor putting his life on the line to protect another person deserved proper recognition. "I don't know many people who'd choose to save another person before saving themselves."

"It was the right thing to do. That's all."

"That doesn't mean it doesn't deserve to be praised for being courageous." Scoffing was almost a second language for Gavin with how much he did it. "Just take the fuckin' compliment."

"...Sorry."

"Yeah, whatever. I get it." Gavin sighed slowly and watched as Connor tied off the bandages and then put a thin blue colored support brace over the bandages to help support Gavin's weight and keep the bandages in place. "It's hard to hear people saying nice things to you and actually thinking they're true when you're not used to them."

"It's not so much difficult as it's just uncomfortable."

"Hard to break the habit of just assuming people are buttering you up to get something out of you with a random compliment."

"Exactly." Connor removed his glasses and proceeded to clean up the bandages while Gavin slowly maneuvered his leg back into his jeans to redress himself and appear as normal as possible just so he could finish his shift. "Does it get any easier to believe?"

"I think it depends on how much you want to believe it."

"Fair point."

"If you hear compliments from someone you trust or respect, then it feels more real." Gavin explained as he stood upright very carefully and opened his locker to change out of his dirty t-shirt and into a clean one. There was a purple bruise along his right side, but nothing that would need medical attention. "So I guess what I said earlier means nothing to you, right?"

"Untrue." Connor closed up the supply cabinet after neatly packing everything away, then turned to face Gavin as he began carefully walking toward the locker room door to return to the bullpen above. "In spite of our past differences and even hostilities toward each other, I do respect you as a detective."

Gavin nearly slammed his locker door shut at that particular admission. "...Seriously?"

"Yes. You're a clean detective who's never once faltered despite rampant corruption in City Hall and among other officers throughout Detroit."

"Well, thanks." Smoothing out his shirt, Gavin managed to walk without a noticeable limp to make his way to the elevator and resume his shift. "Nice to know that even if I'm not liked, I'm at least respected, and people know I'm not a damn conman wearing a badge."

Something about the way Gavin was able to handle his injury in stride while being grateful for some assistance reminded Connor that he didn't need to put on a brave face or pretend that stress wasn't affecting him just to please other people. He was allowed to be less than perfect without the consequences of imperfection from hurting him or anyone else for that matter.

If that was in fact the case, then that meant the same could be said about any potentially perceived failures from outsiders looking in.

Downtown Detroit: Ferndale

A hasty foot chase along the slick, elevated train tracks had put the pursuing officers in harm's way. A heavily damaged deviant with a large knife had been reported threatening numerous people at the train station, and sure enough the moment Connor and Hank arrived at the scene the deviant threatened them with his knife and began running off down the tracks in a desperate attempt to flee from who he perceived as dangerous humans. Hank immediately called in for some drone assistance to keep track of the fleeing deviant from the air while he drove beneath the tracks in the Oldsmobile and Connor chased the deviant along the tracks themselves. The previous night's deluge had continued to pour over the city throughout the day and created two wet, rainy nights in a row just to make life more complicated for Detroit's first responders.

Connor had little difficulty in keeping pace with the deviant courtesy of his strict workout routines, but even so he needed to watch his footing to avoid slipping and falling from the tracks or getting his foot caught in the tracks themselves. The deviant he was chasing kept shouting panicked cries of desperation in search of help from other deviants, but his cries went unheeded.

"Stop!" Connor shouted as he ran down the dark tracks with only the aid of the glowing lamp posts to guide his way. He didn't recognize the deviant, but he did know that the level of damage to the deviant's face was significant enough to cause significant damage to his intracranial processor beneath. "You must surrender!"

"RALPH WILL NOT SURRENDER!" Shouting his retort with a sinister growl, Ralph suddenly stopped and turned around to aim the tip of his knife at Connor in a menacing, threatening manner. "Ralph will kill the humans who want to hurt Ralph."

"I don't want to hurt you or any other deviant." Wisely Connor stopped running and raised his hands into the air to show that he wasn't armed and didn't plan on pulling his mandatory service gun from the holster tucked under his blazer. "I don't want you harmed, but I can't allow you to harm other people."

"Other people harmed Ralph first!" Ralph used his knife to motion to the severe scarring along his face before giving Connor a twisted sneer. "Ralph is just getting justice."

"There is no justice in intentionally hurting another person." Connor fell right back into hostage negotiator mode as he did his best to talk to Ralph and get him to listen to reason before he did something tragic. Keeping his hands visible at all times, he slicked his damp locks of hair back and out of his face and held his ground as two police drones circled overhead. "Let me help you, Ralph. You can be safe and never have to worry about another person hurting you for as long as you live."

Beneath the tracks Hank parked the Oldsmobile and radioed in his location to dispatch. All he could do was watch the confrontation unfold from beneath the tracks and use the lamp posts and the flashing red and blue lights of the hovering drones to see the two people standing on the train tracks about twenty feet above the street.

"Fuckin' hell, kid." The sight of Connor standing so high up on the dimly lit tracks in the rain made Hank's stomach churn. "Get down from there."

"Ralph, listen to me. My name is Detective Connor Zale." Remaining calm and composed Connor introduced himself and held Ralph's attention. "I'm friends with Markus. Markus is still leading the deviants, and he has a shelter waiting for any and all deviants to use out on Belle Isle. We can take you there so you can be safe and so you can be helped."

"No, Ralph will NOT be tricked!"

"This isn't a trick. I give you my word that no one wants to hurt you." A small rumble along the tracks caught Connor's attention as the vibration shook the entire concrete column beneath his feet. "Ralph, we need to get off the tracks. A train is coming."

"Let the train come!" Ralph was steadfast in not cooperating regardless of the situation. With his knife still in his grip Ralph never took his eyes off of Connor and ignored the blinding twin beam white lights shining down on him as the train raced along the track behind him. "Let justice be served!"

Connor could only watch as the train raced down the tracks with its horn blowing in a desperate bid to get the duo to vacate the tracks before it was too late. Deep down inside Connor knew that Ralph had no intention of moving and would allow the train to destroy him. The very notion of witnessing a disturbed and frightened deviant's final moments before self-destruction was something that Connor couldn't bear to live with. Left with no other choice, Connor made the only logical move he could and rushed toward Ralph with every intention of physically moving Ralph off of the tracks by whatever means were necessary.

"What the fuck?!" Hank swore as he watched Connor rushing toward the train and the armed deviant rather than away. "Connor?! Get down!"

With a single swift motion, Connor grabbed Ralph's hand and ripped the knife from his grip while he also pulled the deviant along with him as he leapt from the track toward the edge. Using just one hand Connor held onto the slick surface at the edge of the track just out of range of the crushing wheels to dangle above the street twenty feet below. Connor held tight with Ralph hanging from his other hand and nowhere else to go. The violently shaking of the tracks courtesy of the train and the slippery surface made it impossible for Connor to hold his grip, which meant that he needed to react quickly if he and Ralph were to survive the impending fall.

Thinking quickly Connor willingly let go of the track and twisted his body as he pulled Ralph up toward himself. Connor then wrapped both arms around Ralph to hold him against his chest, then continued to twist his body to land on his back along the pavement below. Only when Connor felt a horrendous pain shooting through the middle of his right leg did he realize that he had fallen directly onto the lid of a closed dumpster rather than the flat street below. The dumpster was full enough of relatively squishy garbage to help cushion the fall to prevent fatal wounds, but the height of the fall being met with the closed lid still showed no mercy to Connor's right leg that took the brunt force impact of the fall itself.

The searing, burning pain was all that Connor could focus on as he stopped falling and came to an abrupt stop among plastic bags and old furniture. Someone was shouting in immense suffering, and it took him a moment to realize he was the one who was shouting.

Ralph had managed to survive the fall unscathed and knelt beside Connor in the dumpster as he gave the human detective a puzzled look. Connor had not only kept him from being injured during the fall, but he had also saved him from being destroyed entirely. Stunned and unsure of what was going to happen next, all Ralph could think to do was get out of the dumpster and continue running until he vanished into the night.

"Connor?!" Hank's deep voice echoed along the street as he raced over to the dumpster and threw open the damaged lid to peer down inside. By the time he got there Ralph had already scrambled out of the dumpster and was on the other side of the alleyway. "Oh, shit... Kid? Can you hear me?"

"H-Hank." Connor's voice was shaking as much as the rest of his body. "H-Hurts."

"Hang on, kid. I'll get ya' out of there."

Without any hesitation Hank climbed up the side of the dumpster and swung his legs over the edge to climb inside. The flashlight built into his phone helped Hank to see the horrible break in Connor's right leg and the fresh, red blood staining the blue jeans a sickly purple hue.

"Oh, fuck. Your leg's busted." The diagnosis felt entirely unnecessary since Hank knew that Connor was well aware of his injury. Lightly Hank put his palm under Connor's head and lifted him up enough to lock eyes with him. "Okay, I'm going to get you out of here. I'm sorry if this hurts, but I can't let you lay in garbage."

Connor nodded slowly as he felt Hank grab his arms to pull him up and over the older man's broad shoulders. The warmth of Hank's shoulders felt much better than the cold, wet garbage that he had landed in, but the sensation wasn't enough to ease his ongoing agony.

"I called for an ambulance the second I saw you fall." Hank confirmed as he carefully climbed back out of the dumpster with Connor laying over his shoulders. It was an awkward climb, but Hank managed to swing his legs back over the edge of the dumpster and land on his feet without jostling Connor around too much. "Help's on the way."

"R-Ralph?"

"Who?" Pausing for a moment Hank quickly deduced that 'Ralph' was the deviant Connor had been trying to talk down from the tracks. "Oh, he's alive. The bastard took off already."

"He n-needs help."

"So do you." Kneeling down on the sidewalk Hank carefully sat Connor down and propped him up against the side of the Oldsmobile to rest. With a very careful motion he straightened Connor's broken right leg as much as he could, then ran his hands along Connor's wet hair and neck to check for other injuries. "Does your head hurt?"

"A l-little."

"Neck?"

"No."

"Back?"

"No. I am g-getting cold." Nodding at his broken leg Connor dared to pull his A.R.I. glasses and the synched glove from his blazer to examine his injury. The single cybernetic pulse of the biometric scan confirmed the severity of the break to Connor's tibia. "C-Compound fracture. The b-bone has punctured itself th-through the skin."

"Explains the blood. Stay with me, kid." Hank urged as he removed Connor's glasses to keep him from learning too much about his own injury. Shifting his weight Hank positioned himself at Connor's side and raised up his arm to drape his coat over Connor's head to keep the rain off of him. "Keep talking."

"Wh-What about?"

"I don't know. Uh, what did you think of 'Back to the Future'?"

"Entert-taining movie." Connor admitted as he shivered from the cold and wrapped his trembling arms around his chest. "M-Might be worth r-rewatching."

"We will, after you see the sequels." The protective man promised as he heard the ambulance sirens approaching their location. Standing up quickly Hank waved over the ambulance and directed them to where Connor was sitting. "For now, you need to get your leg taken care of. I'll stay with you at the hospital and take you home tonight. You won't be stuck there overnight, and you won't be alone. I promise."

St. Mercy Hospital

The ambulance ride had been swift and smooth for Connor making it easier for him to endure the harsh pain of his severely broken leg. It only took a few minutes for the rookie detective to be assessed and taken into emergency orthopedic surgery to repair the break in his bone and prevent infection from setting in. Seemingly the only complication that the doctors and nurses had to deal with was Connor himself stubbornly refusing to be placed under anesthesia and practically demanding to be given only a local anesthetic to numb his leg and allow him to remain fully conscious and lucid during the procedure. After several intense minutes of explaining his reasoning and confirming that he understood the pros and cons of undergoing such a delicate procedure while remaining awake, Connor was able to finally convince the surgeon to agree to allow him to remain awake during the surgery just to finally get the necessary procedure finally in motion.

Despite having the surgery performed his way Connor was still noticeably very nervous and tense as he laid over the operating table with his legs obscured behind a sheet and only listened to the sound of the surgery itself as his broken leg was tended to. He knew what was happening but being unable to see it or feel it made it seem like he was in a strange nightmare with no means of waking up. If it hadn't been for Hank standing on the other side of the observation window for Connor to see, he would've felt entirely alone and defenseless.

"You're doing great, Connor." Hank whispered as he watched his terrified friend on the other side of the glass enduring the surgery. From the distance Hank could see the terror on the younger man's pale face, and he could see how fast Connor's heart was beating courtesy of the cardiac monitor recording his vital signs. "You're going to make it through this surgery then be able to relax at home without doctors hovering over you this time."

"You're here again?"

"Hm?" Turning his head quickly Hank saw Abby of all people approaching him and he gave her a puzzled glance. The last time he saw the technician she was at the restored Zeta Facility overseeing the newest security measures. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Well, 'hi' to you too." She joked as she motioned to the E.M.S. patch on her jacket to direct Hank's attention to her uniform. "The Zeta Facility is still being inspected before it'll open to the public, so I've been catching some graveyard shifts with my old station to help pay the bills. I also can't get enough of that firehouse chili."

"Makes sense. And, uh, sorry for the rude response." There was no need to be so crass, especially to someone who was practically a friend. "I just wasn't expecting to see you here."

"Not surprised. So," peering through the window as well Abby saw Connor on the operating table and staring straight up at the ceiling above him as he patiently waited for the surgery to end. One of Connor's hands was resting over his abdomen while the other was gripped tightly around the edge of the table he was laying on top of. "what happened to Connor? I heard that a detective was hurt in the line of duty tonight, but I didn't get the details of the call."

Hank told Abby everything that happened and rubbed his palm along the back of his hair anxiously. He hated that Connor kept getting injured just for doing the right thing, but he also knew that Connor would hate it even more if he managed to escape a situation unscathed while another person got hurt. After he explained everything and why Connor was awake on the operating table, Hank sighed openly and tried to not fear the worst for Connor's mental health.

"Not surprised he doesn't want the anesthesia." Abby sympathized as she looked at the rookie detective and let out a sigh herself. She remembered how miserable he was while he was recovering in the burn unit and how much he loathed being a patient in general. "Being hospitalized can be really traumatic. Being sedated and having no memory of receiving medical treatment can make it worse. Seems like he's been through this thing even before he had been burned a while back."

"That's what I figured too, but he doesn't remember most of his childhood, so it's not like we talk about it."

"Poor guy." Taking note of Connor's vitals on the monitor made Abby's heart break. She could see how high his heart rate and blood pressure were, all indicating high levels of stress and fear. "He's terrified. Stress like this will just make his recovery worse and his body weaker."

"We can't force him to accept the sedation and go under." Hank replied in a defeated tone as he leaned his forearm against the glass as he continued to watch Connor through the window. "That'll be the worst thing possible for him."

"You're right about that. Good thing I have a 'Plan B' up my sleeve."

"Uh, you're not going to go in there and try to reason with him, are you?"

"Something like that." Abby beamed as she gave Hank's arm reassuring pat before making her way to a clean room just down the corridor. "My shift is over, so what I do on my free time can't be held against me!"

Hank had no idea what Abby was talking about as she disappeared from sight with her plan already in motion. Needing to remain a form of support for Connor even from afar, the loyal Lieutenant watched over Connor and hoped that his presence would be enough to ease Connor's fears. The man couldn't hide that he hated hospitals too, and that he absolutely loathed whenever anyone he cared about needed medical care of any kind.

At that moment, they were both being put to the emotional test.

The door to the operating room slid open as Abby - now wearing a set of scrubs, a mask, a bandana over her hair and gloves - strolled into the room as if she owned the place. She managed to talk her way into being moral support for Connor by reminding the medical staff that she was an E.M.S., personally knew Connor, and that she could help their particularly stubborn patient to be slightly more cooperative while he was still under their care.

The surgeon, a woman a commendable skill, took one look at Abby and shook her head. She didn't even need to ask why Abby was in the room and merely addressed the medic and technician directly by name.

"Here to supervise my work, Abby?"

"Only if it means supervising a certain detective with a knack for getting into trouble."

Connor turned his head slightly and caught sight of Abby as she walked up to the table to stand beside him. Seeing her looking down at him was somehow comforting and enough to let Connor breathe slightly easier. It was just unfortunate that she was covered in surgical scrubs and appeared too much like a doctor for his own personal comfort.

"A-Abby?" Seeing his friend in the hospital watching over him a second time was the last thing Connor expected. "You're here?"

"Yup. I heard from a big, bearded birdy on the other side of that glass that you took a nasty fall tonight." Glancing back past the sheet Abby watched as the break in Connor's leg was finally straightened out properly, and how the bone was having the break secured in place. "And now Dr. McCall has to put your leg back together. But it's not a problem, I've had coffee with Alicia and know that she's the best orthopedic surgeon in Detroit."

"Don't flatter me, Abby." Dr. McCall urged as she gave Abby an appreciative grin behind her mask. A woman in her early thirties with a dark complexion, raven black hair, deep brown eyes, and an award winning smile, Dr. McCall was someone of dignity, respect and confidence. "I rather not try to handle a scalpel while getting buttered up at the same time."

"See? She even knows not to hold surgical tools in unsteady hands." Lowering her voice a little Abby locked eyes with Connor and gently rested her palm along Connor's bicep so that he felt more ground. As soon as she touched his arm Connor's hand resting atop his abdomen relaxed slightly. "Are you in any pain?"

"No. I'm numb from my waist down." Connor admitted as he let out a slow breath and finally began to relax. "I just feel a dull pressure. It's like someone is randomly grabbing and releasing my leg without actually hurting it."

"Epidurals are a miracle, ask just about any woman who's given birth in the past century or so."

"How does my leg look?" Asking about the surgery was all Connor cared about. He couldn't think of anything else for obvious reasons, and he needed to talk to keep his mind from racing against his better judgement. "The break was horrific."

"It looks a lot better now that the bone is back where it belongs." Abby peeked back over the sheet and watched as Dr. McCall began using a special osteographing tool to secure the breaks in the bone back together to ensure it knit properly. "Although, your leg is a very pretty shade of purple, blue and even green right now. Such colorful bruising is so interesting."

"As long as my leg remains on my body, I don't care about the bruising."

"That's the spirit." Slowly Abby moved her hand down Connor's arm until she was able to squeeze his forearm. Her direct contact allowed Connor's heart rate to finally slow to a more manageable pace. "Do you know what's happening right now? I'm sure they explained the surgery to you before you were even brought in, but do you really understand it?"

"Couldn't hurt to have a refresher." Connor admitted as he did his best to not flinch or pull down the sheet to see what was happening to his leg. "How long will it take for me to heal?"

"Not nearly as long as it used to take about nine or ten years ago." Without breaking her gaze Abby brought Connor up to speed on what was happening to his own body to ensure that he felt far more secure while he was otherwise entirely vulnerable. "Dr. McCall has already flushed the wound to rid it of debris, resecured the break of the bone that passed through your skin with the rest of the limb, and is actively using a special technique called osteographing to place a synthetic bone graft along the breaks to hold them steady and cement the fractures back together."

"Seems simple enough."

"Yeah, sure, it seems that way." Abby teased as she continued to inform Connor of what was happening to his body. "After the osteographing is finished, the wound site will be flushed again, and Dr. McCall is going to drill two small plastimetal supports on the outside of your leg along the top and then another two supports along the bottom of the fractures. Once that's done your skin will be given sutures to close the damage and surrounding incision. The supports will ensure the bone remains as straight as possible while it heals without being too invasive."

"How will the plastimetal supports look?"

"Like little white rectangles with a single screw through the middle. Anyway," keeping Connor's mind distracted Abby glanced back and watched as Dr. McCall finished with the osteographing and began checking her work before moving on to the next step. "those screws will be there for a week under your cast and then you'll come in for an x-ray to ensure the break is healing correctly. After that's been confirmed, the supports will be unscrewed, additional osteographing will be injected into the drill holes to keep the bone stable, and then you'll be given a second cast to keep your leg steady for a second week."

"Seems tedious."

"Hey, this is great." The optimistic medic insisted as she kept her spirits up. "Instead of being down and out for eight to ten weeks, you'll be down for only two weeks before you can walk on crutches."

"Two weeks before I can walk on crutches?"

"You can't let any pressure on your fractures disturb the osteographing while it's still knitting the bones together. Once the two weeks are up, you'll be able to walk around with a boot to shield your leg while you use your crutches. Then after that you can just use the crutches without the boot, and then eventually you can just walk unassisted. Emphasis on the JUST walking bit since extraneous activity can cause serious trauma to the bone while it's still healing."

"That'll make it difficult to work properly."

"Only when you can't chill behind your desk and file your reports. But don't worry, you'll be up and chasing down the bad guys again in no time." Without really thinking Abby moved her hand down Connor's forearm and gently took hold of his hand. When he didn't shy away from her touch she smiled softly and curled her fingers around his fingers in a reassuring manner. "Hell, you might even be able to take me dancing sometime."

"Pardon?" Connor's heart skipped a beat on the monitor as he gave Abby a stunned look. He wasn't expecting such a simple suggestion. "Dancing?"

"Well, I'm sure as hell not going to ask you to go roller skating."

"Please don't." Dr. McCall nearly begged as she set about flushing out the incision before she set about lining up the external support plates while using the still exposed bone to guide her way. "I truly hate to see my hard work completely disregarded."

"I don't even know how to dance." A faint blush appeared on Connor's face as he turned his gaze away from Abby and toward the two deviants assisting Dr. McCall with her ongoing procedure. The deviants knew that Connor had saved another deviant's life tonight and were going to make sure the incorruptible detective had the best care possible. "Or roller skate."

"That's okay, I can't dance either. We can learn together."

"Sounds better than roller skating."

"I agree. Especially since I don't even own a pair of skates." Abby gave Connor's hand another squeeze as she tilted her head used her other hand to gently card her fingers along the bandana covering his hair in a comforting gesture. "Hank told me that you risked your life to save a deviant, and that's how you ended up breaking your leg. That was really brave."

"Feels more foolish than brave right now." Connor admitted as he turned his head to look at Hank watching him through the window. Seeing his friend watching over him was enough to ease his remaining fears of being operated on. "He was heavily damaged and scared. He needs to be found and helped, not locked away. The deviant's name is Ralph."

"We'll find Ralph." Ever kind Abby managed to perfectly distract Connor's mind and help him calm down while undergoing the surgical procedure. She knew that her friend just needed a little support and a lot of patience to see him through his recovery. "You just worry about yourself for now, okay?"

Connor could only nod gently as he subconsciously tightened his grip around Abby's hand while he waited for the surgery to finally end.

"Need me to do anything for you?" Volunteering her kindness was second nature to the compassionate medic and technician. "I kind of feel like I owe you something after you saved my life."

"You don't owe me anything." Letting out a deep breath Connor thought for only a few seconds before returning his gaze toward Abby. "But... could you stay with me? At least until I'm out of surgery. I don't want to be alone if it can be helped."

"Absolutely." Abby knew her plan had worked, and she had no other plans for the rest of the night. Being able to stay with a friend in need was far more important than anything else happening at that moment. "I'll stay for as long as you want me to stay."

Hank Anderson's Home: Day 1 of Recovery

The following morning after the incident downtown and at the hospital, everyone felt absolutely exhausted. Despite the protests of the medical staff on call to not let Connor be discharged from their care just yet, Hank stood by his word and managed to get Connor checked out and into his care instead. Hank had driven home at an obnoxiously slow pace while Connor rested over the backseats of the Oldsmobile to keep his surgically repaired leg stretched out at is full length. Connor's right leg was secured in a pearl white plastimetal cast from his ankle up to his knee to support the surgically repaired bone and keep the sutures and support plates from being contaminated by external debris. A few prescriptions, extra bandages and antibiotic cream accompanied the two detectives as Connor was taken back home to rest in the comfort of his bed without needing to be stressed out by being inside of the hospital.

Connor had his healing leg slightly propped up on a stack of pillows as he laid over his bed with Sumo loyally curled up at his side. The young detective had to wear shorts to keep his cast from getting smothered by the fabric, and to ensure that he could keep a direct eye on any potential spreading bruises along his leg that might indicate a serious post-operative complication such a blood clot or compartment syndrome. Even though he was home, Connor felt a little uncomfortable with how he had to rest in such a specific manner for his own recovery's sake despite being in his own bedroom.

"I don't understand how people can spend their entire day watching television." Connor whispered to Sumo as he used the remote to channel surf while rubbing the dog's ears very gently. "There's only a handful of shows that are even worth watching, and the rest seem to be noise and filler to justify the expensive price one must pay to just watch a single good show."

"Preach!" Hank joked as he walked into the bedroom and overheard the younger man's comment. There was a plate in his hand loaded up with a sandwich, some apple slices and he had a glass of milk in his other hand. "That's why I still have my old V.H.S. tapes and D.V.D.'s in storage. Shit, now's the perfect time to go through that stuff and find new movies for you to watch while you're resting. I promise I'll only pick the good films with no brain-rot or anything with weird humor."

"I'd appreciate that."

"Cool. I'll go through my storage locker this evening after I get a few hours of sleep." Yawning slightly, Hank put his hand on Connor's shoulder and gave the younger man a searching gaze as he placed the plate and glass down on the nightstand beside the prescription painkillers. "You feeling okay?"

"About as 'okay' as I could feel considering I'm only six hours post-operative." Connor eyed the offered meal and felt his stomach twist slightly at the idea of eating anything just yet. He had been warned of feeling nauseated due to the heavy painkillers that he was currently on due to the severity of his injury. "Is this lunch?"

"You have to eat something to keep your strength up, but I know your stomach can't be feeling great after everything you went through. Eat whatever you can when you feel like you can. You also need to eat something when you take your meds, so I want you to have something edible close by at all times."

"Thanks."

"You're welcome." Hank gave Connor's shoulder a quick pat and then reached over to rub Sumo's chin as a sign of approval for the dog protecting Connor. "Try to eat something and then sleep. Don't be afraid to ask for help if you need to get to the bathroom or just want to move around the house a little so your muscles don't turn into knots."

"I will. What are you going to do right now?"

"Sleep, then I'm gonna' go run some errands. I asked for Joel to stop by so he can bring you some stuff from the precinct." It was as if Hank could read Connor's mind and knew that Connor would get stir crazy without work to focus his mind on. "You won't be alone just in case you need something or start to feel sick."

"I presume everyone at the precinct knows that I'm injured."

"Only the people who need to know." Hank reassured as he double checked the medications on the nightstand to make sure Connor was taking them appropriately during his recovery period. "Jeffrey knows you want to work from home, so don't worry about missing work or being out a paycheck."

"What about you? I can't expect you to continuously call off work simply because I'm injured."

"I can and I will, but only when no one else is free to check on you from time to time." It seemed that Hank had already thought of everything long before Connor began asking him questions. "It'll be fine. You focus on healing while I worry about work for a while. It's not the first time I've had a partner hurt on the job, but hopefully it will be the last time."

Hank Anderson's Home: Day 3 of Recovery

The movie marathon had started in Connor's bedroom the previous evening then moved to the livingroom since the younger man couldn't stand the idea of lying in bed all day. Being in the larger community room of the house also made it easier for Hank to keep him company and continue to dig through his old movie collection to ensure that Connor wouldn't have a second of boredom while he healed. To make matters all the more interesting, while checking through his storage unit for the old movies, Hank had managed to find his old laptop and brought it back to the house along with the movies. The old and forgotten laptop wasn't working correctly due to its advanced age and lack of proper care over the years, but that only gave Connor another project to work on and keep him from obsessing over work or his injury for a few previous hours.

Hank happily shared his love of film with Connor to ensure that the younger man could have some sense of a normal life after living such an abnormal upbringing. It was a simple thing, but effective all the same. The younger man worked to carefully take apart, clean and then put the old laptop back together again while also becoming entranced with the movies and shows that Hank had placed in his old D.V.D. player or V.C.R. to keep Connor entertained. Seeing an actual glimmer of childlike wonder in Connor's eyes gave Hank hope that it wasn't too late to help Connor find his interests and his passions to become more than just a detective.

"I always forgot how much better 'The Wrath of Khan' is compared to the first movie." Hank admitted as he stopped the movie just as the credits began to roll so that he could rewind the old V.H.S. tape to put back into is sleeve properly. "What did you think, kid?"

"I think I enjoy 'Star Trek' immensely." Connor admitted as he looked at the D.V.D. boxset of the original show on the shelf with a sense of intrigue. The old laptop had been cleaned up and was ready to have its new battery charge up before being used. "I'd like to watch the show again after we finish the movies."

"Sounds good. Don't forget, I still need to show you 'Star Wars' and 'The Lord of the Rings'. Those are some long-ass movies, so you're going to want to make sure you have some snacks handy. In fact," Hank rose to his feet and patted Sumo's back as the large dog laid beside Connor and didn't dare to touch his healing leg propped up on the coffee table. "I'm gonna' go get some groceries to last us for the rest of the week, and I'm going to pick up your new prescription. Need anything else while I'm out?"

"No, you're doing enough as it is. And thank you."

"Cool." As he neared the front door Hank noticed Tina's car pulling up into the driveway and nodded in approval. "Perfect timing. Tina's here to check on you, so you won't be alone while I'm gone."

"I'll be all right without you for a couple of hours." Connor replied quickly as he was beginning to feel like a child who needed babysitting. "I won't do anything foolish that's inhibit my recovery."

"Maybe, but why chance it?" Casually Hank opened the door and left it open while Tina made her way inside the house with her arms loaded up with some take-out boxes and shopping bags along her arms. "You good, Tina?"

"I'm great!" Tina confirmed as she placed everything down in Hank's recliner and gave him a bright smile as he grabbed his car keys from the bookcase. "It's my turn to check on Connor, and I won't leave until I know he's going to be back on his feet and kicking ass!"

"Right. Just make sure he doesn't try to walk anywhere on his own, or kick any asses, and it'll be fine." With his keys in his hand and his coat and shoes on, Hank stepped through the door and went on his way. "I'll be back in a couple of hours."

After the door 'clicked' shut Tina sighed and gave Connor a truly sympathetic look. She knew that he had broken his leg, but she didn't know how bad the injury had been until she saw the thick cast and the exhaustion plastered on Connor's face. The way he looked so rundown despite only resting for three days straight ached at her heart. It also didn't help that Connor hadn't been able to shave since he couldn't stand up long enough to use a razor in the bathroom, and she thought his rugged appearance just made him look all the more defeated.

"You poor thing." Tina had to resist the urge to hug Connor as she began sorting through the various items she brought with her to the house. The smell of warm food quickly filled the livingroom, and Sumo wagged his tail as his picked up on the enticing aroma immediately. "Captain Fowler told us that you got hurt protecting a suspect who fled the scene. I hate it when one of us gets hurt for doing the right thing."

"I'll be all right." Connor didn't want any sympathy; he just wanted to get back to living his life without needing to wait for his body to heal. "I'm not in any pain and I'm resting well."

"That's good. But mama insisted that I bring you some of her famous cooking right from the diner so that you can feel better even sooner." Without making a mess Tina set out the large lunch on the coffee table and made sure that Sumo was distracted by the little baggy of dog treats she had brought knowing that she'd have the chance to spoil the lovable dog without Hank around to stop her. "Mama even made sure to throw in some homemade ice cream with all the toppings for you to choose from."

"I- Uh..." Seeing the large array of food filled Connor with guilt since he wasn't hungry but didn't want the provided food to go to waste. He also hadn't had the chance to try a large variety of different food, and he had no idea what he'd like or dislike. "I'm not hungry but thank you for doing all this. It's appreciated all the same."

"Hey, that's way friends do. Besides, I know Hank will help you finish this meal off. He loves my mama's cooking." Tina explained casually as she then went through the shopping bags she had also brought to the house. They were of varying sizes and came from their coworkers at the precinct. "I brought some gifts from the precinct, too!"

"...Gifts?"

"Yeah, the 'get well soon' kind of gifts, so don't worry about buying any gifts in return." Tina presented Connor with the first gift from Chris and revealed a pair of extra fluffy slippers with fake brown fur all around them. "This one's from Chris. He said this will make it more comfortable for you to walk around once you get your cast off and need to use crutches instead."

"That was very considerate." Connor accepted the slippers and promptly had Sumo sniffing the gift curiously. The softness of the fake fur seemed to make Sumo very happy. "I'll be sure to thank him as soon as I can."

"And this is from Captain Fowler." Pulling out a company laptop from the largest bag, Tina presented the gift as if she were showcasing a prize on a game show. "He wants you to keep working, but only when you're up to it. He said that he knows you're too dedicated to the job to just lay around sleeping all day anyway."

"And he's right." With a careful grip Connor accepted the laptop and placed it down on the coffee table to sit alongside the old one he had repaired. "I need to keep my thoughts preoccupied."

"Which is why Ben..." Reaching into another bag Tina presented Connor with several books, some word puzzles and packet of new pens to mess with while he rested and healed. "Went and bought you a bunch of stuff to read and think about without needing to chase any suspects in the process. He even got you some pens in fun colors, too!"

"I'm certain that I'll make good use of that." Connor noticed that one of the books in the stack of six that Tina presented him with was a cookbook full of recipes for foods he had never tried before. That was definitely something he could use in the future. "Eventually Hank will run out of movies and shows to share with me, and I've already read all his books twice."

"When do you sleep?"

"Very rarely."

"Figures." The response prompted a casual shrug as Tina picked up a single box that had been mixed in with the bags of gifts. "And I have one final gift, and this one is from Gavin!"

"Gavin?"

"Don't worry, I let the bomb-sniffing dogs at the precinct thoroughly check this out before I brought it over." Tina teased as she let Connor open the small box for himself. "He told me I can't peek, so I won't. Best friends honor and all that..."

"I see." Connor accepted the box and opened the lid slowly. Inside was a little notecard and a bottle of Vitamin E oil that was a sign of a peace offering, and something Connor would be able to use in time. "That was kind of him."

"What did he get you? I'm DYING to know!"

"It's..." Reading the card quickly Connor gave Tina an acceptable answer while keeping the gift itself a secret. "He gifted me a second charger to ensure my laptop doesn't power down while I'm trying to work."

"Lame! I was hoping it was something that was actually nice, not sarcastic."

"I don't mind." Reading the card a second time, Connor understood that Gavin was just keeping up his facade of not liking Connor out of pride. "This will come in handy regardless of the sincerity behind the gift."

Closing up the box, Connor set it aside and made sure the card was out of sight. The true message on the card was short and simple: 'You helped me first, so now we're even! Don't tell anyone!'

"So," casually Tina pulled one of the dog treats from her last bag and offered it to Sumo who graciously gobbled it up and then thanked her with slobbery kisses all along her neck and face. "what have you been doing while off from work? Just reading and watching movies?"

"I also repaired an old laptop. However, I've been able to find quite a few interesting stories to follow thanks to Hank." Lightly Connor pressed his fingertips along his cast to test his pain and check for any changes in his condition while Tina joined him on the couch and opened up the takeout container with the ice cream and toppings. "He once told me that you're a fan of cinema as well."

"Damn right, but I prefer 'cinephile' or 'film fanatic'." Tina stirred up the cup of ice cream and tried to entice Connor to try it for himself by making the soft serve look like it was about to be presented in a commercial. "Find anything you really like yet?"

"Science fiction movies seem to be my favorite so far."

"Same." After securing the spoon in the ice cream Tina handed it over to Connor and then showed him the small containers holding the various flavored syrup toppings, the sprinkles and even some whipped cream to add to his treat. "When I was a kid, my dad would let me stay up late watching movies with him while my mom and sister were asleep. We really bonded over our love for movies and always had something to look forward to watching at night."

"It's nice that you have a special memory like that from your childhood." Relenting at last, Connor accepted the ice cream and took a small taste of the dessert. It was pure vanilla and the perfect texture for Connor's preference. "I don't have any positive childhood memories to fall back on."

"Need to talk about it?"

"Yes, but I'm not in the mood." Connor admitted as he went to put the ice cream aside, only to have Tina push it back into his hands to keep. "It's a slow process of healing that I need to handle one day at a time."

"Don't stop believing that you'll figure your life out. You're too smart to give up." As Tina joined Connor on the couch and had Sumo happily crawl onto her lap, she glanced about the livingroom to take in the sight of the house that was filled with life again. Her eyes casually scanned over the room all while keeping Connor company and doing her best to not stare at his leg in its cast. "What movies have you- Are you two watching 'Star Trek'?!"

"Yes?" The extreme reaction made Connor a little wary of what Tina might say next. "Is that... bad?"

"Not in the slightest, I LOVE 'Star Trek'!" Beaming excitedly Tina walked over to the pile of D.V.D.'s and V.H.S. tapes on the floor to check over the titles with her own eyes. "Okay, I promise that when Hank gets back, I'll be on my way and not overstay my welcome. But NOT before I watch just one of these movies with you guys!"

"I don't see why that can't be arranged."

"You're the best!" After selecting the right movie from the pile, she set it aside and then rejoined Connor on the couch to try to get him to keep eating a little bit of the food that she had brought over for him. Tina knew that Connor didn't eat much, and she was determined to help change that. "Try putting some of the strawberry syrup on the ice cream. It's made from fresh strawberries every day, and mama knows how to pick the best fruit! Trust me, you'll love it!"

Hank Anderson's Home: Day 5 of Recovery

The house was beginning to feel more like a true home for Connor even though he was essentially imprisoned in the house thanks to the severity of his injury. Being unable to go anywhere or do anything without someone's help or approval was very limiting, and yet for the first time in Connor's life he felt like he truly had good people to call his friends and to rely on when he needed help. While Hank had to go back to the precinct to handle some paperwork and to deal with deviant related cases in person, Connor remained in the house to heal properly and had Sumo at his side. The young detective wasn't too keen on being by himself for too long now that he had grown used to having friends. After sending a single message to Markus to update his friend on his own situation, Connor soon had company as Markus stopped by the house to check on Connor directly and to spend some time with him.

It was a bit of a surprise that the deviant leader would be able to find the time to leave the tower and focus on his friend, and yet somehow it wasn't seen as much of a challenge for someone as determined as Markus. As soon as he was in the house Markus fell back into caretaker mode and began cleaning up the house a little while also checking on Connor's healing injury despite Connor insisting that he was fine.

That was an insistence that Markus chose to ignore.

"It's impressive to see how well your leg is healing." Markus noted as he biometrically scanned the limb and studied the visible bruising closely. The bone was knitting correctly and there was no sign of infection anywhere in the limb. "It's incredible that you managed to only break one bone after such a high fall."

"I was lucky." Connor admitted as he allowed Markus to finish examining his casted leg without protest. There was no harm in letting his friend make sure he wasn't at risk of developing an infection or an embolism. "As was Ralph. I hope he's somewhere safe."

"He is." As if waiting for his cue Markus showed Connor his palm and a holographic image of Ralph inside of New Jericho Tower's emergency repair bay being tended to by Simon and Josh. "He showed up the morning after your fall. He said that a 'good human' told him he'd be safe with me, and I immediately knew who he was and who he was talking about. He was right about everything by the way."

"And the damage he's sustained?"

"It's pretty extensive, but it's possible with several repairs and software rewrites that he'll regain some semblance of who he had been before he had been damaged."

"That's good. He's getting the help he needs."

"What will you do now that you know where he is?"

"Considering he's suffered such extensive damage that had essentially left him insane, and he's now getting the help that he needs to regain his sanity, I see no reason to have him turned over to the police." Connor decided as he gave Markus a knowing look where he sat over the couch. "He only threatened people, he didn't actually harm them."

"I think Ralph will be relieved to know that you're not going to arrest him." Such forgiveness reminded Markus of why he was willing to trust Connor and befriend him even when the Revolution was still at stake. "I'm not sure how he would've fared in lock-up."

"Everyone deserves a second chance at life. It wouldn't have been right to lock him up."

"Speaking of second chances..." It seemed Markus's haste to meet up with Connor had an ulterior but benevolent motive. "Have you managed to uncover any additional information in the second thumb drive that I had given to you?"

"Moderately so, but I don't understand how that ties into giving someone a second chance in life." Connor admitted his confusion as he awkwardly bent over the arm of the couch supporting him upright to reach the laptop that he had been using as it charged on the cool floor beside him. After only a mild struggle Connor managed to pull the laptop up and open its lid as it balanced on his legs. "Is there something I should've noticed during my search through the files?"

"Possibly. You see, when I first found the files on you and Lucas, I found a few details that seemed out of place." Carefully Markus sat down on the coffee table to be more eye level with Connor as they conversed. "There were documents that revolved around both of you that just don't seem to make sense to me."

"How so?"

"One document appears to be yours and Lucas's birth certificates. The date is correct from what you told me, and biometrically you are in fact the very age that you know yourself to be, and yet the information on your parents and location of birth seemed to have been altered."

"Altered how?" The intrigue for the truth was prevalent enough to cause Connor to begin digging through the files on the thumb drive yet again. He had practically memorized every detail after reading them over countless times already. "What did you notice that I didn't?"

"The data of the file itself." Markus explained in a low tone of quiet fear. "You can see that the images of your birth certificates appear to be the proper copies provided by the hospital where you were born. At a single glance everything seems normal, but the data on the files have been tampered with. When I cybernetically analyzed the data, I was able to pick up on data manipulation and alterations that the average human user wouldn't notice."

Needing to see everything with his own eyes Connor opened the data files and read over the documents for himself for the umpteenth time. Everything seemed to line up with a normal birth certificate regarding Connor and Lucas twenty-two years prior. Their names and the birthdate were correct, their weights, heights, exact times of birth, and their blood types were all entirely accurate to what Connor had already believed to be true about Lucas and himself. By all account, everything was normal and seemed to line up with the facts.

"I'm not seeing the discrepancy."

"I'll show you." With a single touch of his exposed plastimetal palm, Markus accessed the laptop and showed that the data on the birth certificates had only been altered in a way that no one would notice unless they were directly looking for it. "Here. The birth certificates had been copied into a separate file, then had some details altered before being used to replace the original certificates. I noticed that the details changed were the portion of the certificate that's supposed to confirm the hospital where you born and the portion that's supposed to contain the names of your biological parents."

"...Our parents." Connor hadn't even noticed that the lines regarding his and Lucas's parentage had been conveniently removed from the certificates. "Why would CyberLife erase the names of our parents?"

"That's what I've been trying to figure out. The only thing I can think of is a closed adoption that legally required the biological parents to be removed from the certificates to keep the biological parents anonymous, but that wouldn't explain why the certificates were altered AFTER CyberLife received their copies from the hospital."

"Lucas and I were never adopted either. When our parents died... That was it." Connor's mood dropped considerably, and he closed the laptop to put the computer aside for a while. "We spent our entire lives in the foster care system until we aged out at eighteen."

"Can I ask how our parents passed away?"

"It was a fatal car accident when Lucas and I were only six months old."

"And no one stepped up to take care of you?"

"We clearly have no other living family, and it's exceptionally rare for people to foster siblings together."

"CyberLife had copies of your birth certificates because you were aged out of the foster care system and had nowhere else to go." Markus deduced as he knew that CyberLife used to keep extensive records on all of their employees. "But that doesn't explain why they erased your parentage or the hospital where you were born."

"They must've known something about our parents that would've caused a conflict of interest for the company, and they needed to hide the truth of Lucas and I's connection to them. I just don't understand how that's possible."

"There's one other thing." There was a noted degree of sorrow in Markus's tone as he told Connor one other piece of information he had uncovered about the altered birth certificates. "The surnames assigned to you at birth were also altered. 'Zale' was a name that CyberLife added to the certificates after you and Lucas became employed by the company."

"...That's right." Connor's face paled and soon he had Sumo keening sympathetically as he laid on his pillow in the corner. The strange memory began to resurface, and Connor was able to remember an important detail of his own past. "Our last name wasn't 'Zale' or 'Brooks', it was something entirely different."

"What was your name?"

"I can't remember." A distant gaze took over Connor's eyes as he tried and failed to recall that critical piece of information. "And if I can't remember our true name, then I can't even begin searching through the foster care records to find more information on our birth parents."

"There has to be some way to find the information you need." Thinking quickly Markus used the information that he already knew to be true about Connor and tried to help in his own way. "You said your parents were killed in a car accident when you were infants. I'll search through news stories pertaining to a fatal car accident of a man and a woman from twenty-two years ago and see what turns up."

"It's all right." A sense of despair fell over Connor as he began to feel as if searching for such answers would just cause further problems. "This is my mission that I alone must accomplish. You have enough responsibilities to the deviants to manage without worrying about me in the process."

"I'm going to worry about my friends regardless of my other responsibilities. Nothing will ever change that."

"Please, I'm asking you as a friend, leave this matter alone." There was a sense of defeat in Connor's mannerisms that just couldn't be ignored. It was worrying how the stubborn detective just suddenly gave up without a fight on a new lead for his personal mission. "This is something that I must do for myself and for Lucas."

"I don't like it, but okay. I'll respect your request."

"Thank you."

Markus gave Connor's arm a light pat as a show of good faith for their friendship and for Connor's overall future. He had no reason to doubt that Connor knew what he was doing, and yet all he wanted to do was help his friend every step along the way.

"Hank will be home in a few hours, and I know he's going to be tired from working a solo shift." Without waiting to be asked Markus made his way into the kitchen and began rummaging through the cupboards and the refrigerator to search for ingredients. "I'm going to make you both a healthy dinner before I go. That'll help me worry a little less about you once I return to New Jericho. In just two days the city is going to change, and the new rights and laws to protect my people will finally be put into motion. We're passing through history again, and thanks to you helping me, it's going to be for the better again too."

"Yeah..." As much as Connor cared about the deviants, he just couldn't bring himself to really focus on their needs. "That's really special."

Connor normally would've insisted that Markus didn't have to do anything for him or for Hank, but he couldn't think clearly enough to even try to dissuade him from his good deed or really pay attention to their discussion. As he sat in deep melancholy thought Connor found himself absentmindedly rubbing Sumo's ears after the protective dog made his way over to the couch to stay close to Connor and try to bring him some comfort. The heaviness in the air seemed to match the heaviness in Connor's heart as he began to feel as if his own memories were going to be proven as too dangerous to recall and learn the hard way that he had repressed so much of his childhood for a very good reason.

Unfortunately, Connor would only uncover that reason if he dared to keep searching for answers that he was suddenly too intimidated to learn.

St. Mercy Hospital: Day 7 of Recovery

It was a simple enough exam and one that Connor didn't put up too much of a fight with in regard to cooperation and patience. Though his disdain for hospitals and being treated as a patient remained, Connor was willing to relent to the wellness check and allow the doctors to do whatever they needed to do in order to examine his healing break beneath the plastimetal cast. After the x-ray confirmed that Connor's leg was healing properly, the original cast was removed, and the entire leg was given a basic sterilization treatment to ensure that none of Connor's skin along the sutures or plastimetal supports developed any type of infection or lesion from being concealed beneath the cast for so long.

Once Connor's leg was sterilized a secondary osteographing procedure was used to fill in the drill holes along the bones, then the drill sites were sterilized for a second time and sealed up with synthetic skin. The initial sutures had also been removed, the incisions site thoroughly sterilized, and then had an additional layer of synthetic skin put in place to keep the entire area clean and free of external debris.

"Just another week with a cast and you can walk on crutches without needing to rely on them for support."

Dr. McCall promised as she secured a softer cast around Connor's leg in place of the stiff plastimetal one. The soft cast had a plastimetal bottom acting the sole of a boot and had a fully flexible join along the ankle, but the padding around Connor's shin and calf area that stretched up to his knee was thick, breathable cushions to allow Connor limited mobility without smothering his injury site again.

"How does that feel?"

"It's a little hard to tell." Connor admitted as he weakly flexed his right ankle to illustrate his point. "The local anesthetic hasn't worn off entirely yet."

"As long as you still have healthy blood circulation to your foot and toes, you won't have to worry about the cast being too tight." Casually Dr. McCall pulled a device from her coat pocket and ran it up the bottom of Connor's foot to test his reflexes. When his foot flexed appropriately the good doctor nodded in approval and began writing a new prescription for Connor to take. "You're well on your way to a full recovery, Detective Zale. This is a mild painkiller to ease any lingering pain in your leg to ensure that you can rest comfortably. Do you have any questions?"

"...Is the cast truly necessary?"

"Considering you work in law enforcement, and I've dealt with too many first responders to count, YES. I don't want you pushing yourself too hard physically because you're too eager to return to work."

"I assure you that I'll rest properly and not push myself too hard." Connor seemed to resent the implication that he'd do something reckless and completely undo all his hard work at a full recovery. "I'm not a fool."

"I didn't mean to imply that you were, I'm sorry." Wanting to be thorough in her examination Dr. McCall used her stethoscope to listen to Connor's chest and made sure he didn't have any issues with his lungs considering his medical records indicating severe scarring along his pulmonary tissues. Everything sounded normal and the good doctor decided that Connor was ready to head for home. "Okay, you're making amazing progress with your recovery, and are free to go."

Connor accepted the written prescription and eyed the pair of crutches that Dr. McCall brought over for him to use. After adjusting the mobility aids to accommodate her patient's height, Dr. McCall helped Connor to stand up and balance on the crutches, and she made sure he knew how to use them without slipping.

"I'll see you in another week." Casually Dr. McCall accompanied Connor out of the exam room and back into the waiting room to reunite with Hank. She had no reason to worry about Connor being alone since she could see that Hank truly cared about his young friend's wellbeing. "Keep taking it easy, take your prescription as directed, and you'll be back to work before you know it."

"Thank you, Dr. McCall." Awkwardly Connor managed to offer the doctor his hand to shake while continuing to balance on his crutches. "I'll see you in one week."

"Take care, Detective." She accepted the detective's hand and shook graciously as she saw him on his way. "The less I see you in my hospital, the better!"

Hank approached Connor slowly and made sure the younger man wasn't about to fall or lose his grip on his crutches. Once he was certain that Connor was going to be all right, he glanced down at Connor's new cast and then nodded in approval.

"Well, it's a lot less noticeable than that old white cast. Does your leg hurt?"

"No, it's mostly numb."

"Good. Come on, kid." Careful to walk alongside Connor to not accidentally trip in the process, Hank escorted his friend out to the parking lot. "The new laws protecting deviants were enacted this morning, and I want you to be safe at the house in case some assholes have conniption fits and start riots around the city."

"Right."

"Hey, are you feeling okay?" The attentive detective had noticed that Connor was in a glum mood and wanted to make sure he wasn't beginning to suffer from something as serious as depression. "You've been acting pretty defeated the past couple of days. What's wrong?"

"I'm just thinking." Connor deflected the question as he limped along to the Oldsmobile to head for home. "I'm okay, really."

"You've been really quiet, and don't think I haven't noticed that you haven't been working on your side project." Sharp as ever, Hank opened the passenger side door for Connor and then took the crutches to store in the trunk of the car during the drive home. "Did something happen during your search through those files?"

Connor was quiet for a minute as he fastened his seatbelt and made sure his injured leg didn't get bumped while he climbed in and out of the vehicle. He didn't want to tell Hank what was going on inside his mind since it was hard enough to explain it while also trying to figure out what to do next.

"I'm going to assume that yeah, you found something that upset you." Hank confirmed as he sat down in the driver's seat of the car and turned over the engine in a single swift motion. The man sensed Connor's distress and decided to let the matter lie for a while. "If you don't want to talk about it, you don't have to. Just know that if you do want to talk about it, then I'll listen."

"Thank you."

Silence fell over the vehicle as Hank made his way home and was extra mindful of the traffic considering he didn't want to do anything that's aggravate Connor's leg by mistake. To ease the quiet tension in the air Hank turned on the radio to try to find some music to listen to but instead was greeted with a report on the success of the new deviant rights and laws taking immediate effect, and how the city had mixed feelings about the historical event. The urge to turn off the radio to return to silence was thankfully interrupted by Connor speaking up and stealing Hank's attention away from the news report.

"When I heal, will you still want to watch movies with me?"

"Sure, kid. We were doing that long before you were injured." Hank hated the way Connor sounded so sad about the idea of not being able to hang out and have their sporadic movie nights together despite having no reason to worry about such a thing. "You don't have to be hurt or sick for us to hang out and watch movies or just spend time together in general. We're friends, and that's what friends do. Hell, you can invite Tina over for another movie night sometime if you want. She's your friend too."

"Do you think we'd be friends if we hadn't met when we were initially assigned to work together?"

"I don't know. I just know that I'm glad we did meet since I was able to finally pull my head out of my ass and stop being such a dick." It didn't take long for Hank to pick up on Connor's manifesting self-doubts and he wanted to keep that from happening before it was too late. "I'm not sure what you found in those files, but I do know that you don't have to worry about me casting you out of my life. We're friends to the end, so deal with it!"

"What if you found out that I'm not the person that you believe that I am?"

Slowly Hank pulled the car alongside the street to park and turned off the radio. Shifting his weight Hank turned to face Connor directly and put his strong hand on Connor's shoulder to hold his attention as he spoke to him with the voice of a father.

"It doesn't matter who you were before we met. You're my friend now." Hank didn't blink as he did his best to reassure Connor that he had no reason to worry about being abandoned by someone he cared about just he had been when Lucas turned his back on him. "You and I are allowed to be imperfect, just like anyone else. It doesn't matter what you did back then since I know you're a great person today. You're an incorruptible detective, you're a compassionate person, you're empathetic to the extreme, and you're not the type of person to ignore another person who needs help. You don't have to worry about disappointing me or thinking that anything you did as a kid will ever be held against you."

"How can you be so certain of such a thing?" A few frustrated tears well-up in Connor's eyes as he tried to understand Hank's reasoning. "So much of my life is a mystery, and even my own damn name could be a lie."

"Hey, we're detectives. We'll figure out what happened to you as a kid and all the other weird shit that CyberLife tried to bury, and from there you'll keep living your life with a better understanding of your past. And even when we do figure out all your secrets and remember your childhood, it won't change who you are right now as a person."

"What if I was a monster?" Connor asked as he tried to not think about how he had lost his parents, was shunned by his only brother, and doesn't even have a true family name to help him understand where he had come from. "What if I did something that can't be forgiven?"

"Then we'll figure out a way for you to make amends for your past mistakes. Kid, you're worrying about scenarios that you can't even possibly prove happened."

"I can't disprove them either."

"And yet you're just assuming the worst." Lightly Hank gave Connor's shoulder a shake before returning his focus to the road. He really needed to get Connor back home so that the younger detective could return to his safe haven. "I promise you that you're not now and have never been a monster. The way everyone gravitates toward you and wants to be your friend is proof enough that you're a good person and that you have nothing to worry about."

Connor dragged his thumb beneath his eyes to remove his tears before they could fall and proceeded to stare out the side window to look at the glowing billboards showcasing the progress of the deviant community in the form of legal recognition and representation at long last. That should've been a positive sign and something that made him feel better, and yet all Connor could do was sit in fear of his potential mistakes from his childhood and how they could come back to haunt him at any minute.

"Just one more week." Hank noted with a genuine enthusiasm for his friend beside him. "After you get to return to work at the precinct, you'll feel a hell of a lot better. I miss having you in the bullpen."

"I miss being in the bullpen. I miss being useful."

"Hey, you're still useful and always will be." The Lieutenant soothed as he idled at a red light and gave Connor's shoulder another light shake. "In fact, we're going to double-down on your search efforts to find all of CyberLife's secrets, and then once we expose every lie, bribe and corrupt agreement they ever performed, you'll sleep better at night and you'll finally have all your questions answered."

"If you say so."

"I say so, AND I know so. Trust me and learn to trust yourself." Hank urged as he pulled the car through the green light and turned to enter his neighborhood where the traffic thinned out, and the greenery of less populated location began to thrive in every direction. "You still have a lot healing to go through, and this time I don't just mean your leg."

"Will you help me?"

"Until the very end, kid." Hank promised his friend warmly. "I wouldn't want to do anything else since you're my best friend and you need my help."

-next chapter-