DBH: A Deviant Essence

by WayWardWonderer

An AU with a human Connor who sides with the deviants and betrays CyberLife during the Revolution. The young detective learns how to live without orders and discover more about his own forgotten past. Navigating a new world with *A.R.I., Hank and Markus as his allies, Connor learns how to live and uncovers a dark truth behind his own life and CyberLife's involvement. (*Heavy Rain)

10. Fire & Ice

"Fire & Ice"

Harbor Town Lake

Several days had passed by with little progress being made on the personal investigation into a single missing person, but that didn't deter either detective from continuing their search between active cases at the precinct. The files that had been uncovered at the now defunct CyberLife Tower were still being slowly decrypted thanks to the impressive locks and firewalls that the company had put in place, which in turn stalled the active investigation in a truly aggravating manner. Once the files were finally exposed and reviewed with a keen eye with absolute attention to detail, then progress would finally be made. Until then, the two detectives would have to focus their efforts on handling any and all deviant related cases that came their way. Even if they couldn't expose CyberLife's corrupt secrets to the world as soon as they wanted, they could still actively bring justice to the deviant community one case at a time.

On a particularly cold, dark night, a call came in regarding a deviant's shutdown body being found along the shores of the frozen Harbor Town Lake. The body had been discovered by a local pair who were trying to have a nice quiet walk around the lake after a romantic dinner. Such a discovery quickly killed the romance since the couple were expectedly shocked to find a body out in the open and called the police immediately to cover the scene.

As the only two detectives on the city's recently formed deviant division, it was up to Hank and Connor to process the scene and handle the investigation. The duo arrived at the crime scene just as Ben and his C.S.I. team showed up to cordon off the area and begin documenting the evidence. Gavin and Tina had been on patrol when the call came in and were the first to arrive and had been questioning the young couple when the rest of the responding personnel arrived.

"You really need to buy yourself a warmer coat, kid." Hank grumbled as he and Connor exited the Oldsmobile to approach the area cordoned off by holographic police tape. The freezing temperatures combining with the surrounding atmosphere of the much colder lake water made the area almost unbearable. "That blazer isn't going to do shit to keep you warm during a Michigan winter."

"I don't have enough money to buy a proper coat, Lieutenant." Connor countered as he slipped on his A.R.I. glasses and the synched glove to begin checking over the immediate area and the victim's body. The rookie detective was used to suffering in silence and wasn't about to start begging for pity. "I'd prefer to pay my share of the rent before I purchase anything else."

"What rent? I'm not chargin' you rent to crash on my couch."

"You still deserve proper compensation for giving me shelter."

"Geez, kid." The way Connor responded so coldly only emphasized how neglected he had been while growing up. Hank had never met such an old soul trapped in such a young person before. "I helped you because you needed help and I wanted to help, not because I expected to get anything in return."

"...Oh."

"We'll talk about this later." Glancing around the frozen lakeshore gave Hank a momentary sense of calmness. He loved the water and had especially enjoyed spending his free time around lakes with his family. "Let's just figure out what happened to this poor guy then get somewhere warm again. My fingers are already starting to hurt."

Connor nodded as he passed through the holographic police lines and approached the body warily. The sight of a deviant body splayed out on its back along the icy shore with their own Thirium pooled and then frozen around them was unsettling. The rookie detective had come a long way since his time as a CyberLife investigator. He no longer saw android bodies as broken machines or defective computers; he saw them for what and who they truly were. Deviant androids were living, feeling, thinking beings who deserved respect and protection like any other living creature.

"So, Ben, what do we got?" Hank asked the senior investigator as he watched Ben taking notes several yards away from the body. "Accident? Homicide? Suicide?"

"Looks like a homicide to me."

"Ah, shit. That's what I was afraid of." Seeing the young couple being grilled by Gavin and Tina near the road only made Hank shake his head. He hated it when Gavin became too aggressive with his questions, especially when he was talking to a witness and not a suspect. "What went down before we arrived?"

"Our young lovers over there were just out here taking a nice leisurely stroll along the lake after dinner when they saw the body where you see them now." The seasoned investigator was pointing in the direction of the body with his pen as he brought Hank up to speed. He didn't say anything about Connor pressing his gloved hand down on the victim's chest to run an analysis on their system. "There's a set of tire tracks that lead up to the shore in the direction of the body, then speed off in the opposite direction."

"And let me guess, our witnesses didn't see anyone else in the area."

"Right." Nodding at the couple for a second Ben confirmed that they had told them a great deal of details but nothing truly substantial. "They were able to tell us exactly when they arrived, when they found the body, where they were standing, when they noticed the body, and they were able to confirm that no one else was around until the police showed up. But nothing we can really use to track down a suspect."

"What can you tell me about the state of the victim?"

"Not much." Ben scratched at the side of his neck as he reviewed his chronicled notes. "There's massive trauma to their head that makes me think they were attacked from behind and then dumped on the shore to hide the real crime scene."

"Guess we'll find out more when Connor finishes his examination of the body."

"Wouldn't be surprised. Want to check Gavin's notes?"

"Do I look like I want to deal with an asshole right about now?"

"No more than usual." The far less rigid investigator gave Hank an amused chuckle as he carefully walked along the icy surface beneath his feet to head back to his own car. "My team's done chronicling the evidence, so do your thing and we'll compare notes back at the bullpen."

"Right. Make sure your team has everything ready for review so we can get the report filed A.S.A.P." Shivering where he stood, Hank looked out at Connor crouched down on the ice as he examined the body carefully before sharing his own theory on what happened that night. "I'd rather talk to you and your team over Gavin any day of the week."

"I think the feeling's mutual across the bullpen these days. All right, see ya' back at the precinct."

Mindful of the ice Hank approached Connor and watched as his younger partner straightened up his posture and slipped the glove back into his blazer pocket before doing the same for the A.R.I. glasses. Seeing Connor standing out in the open with only his thin gray blazer to keep him protected from the cold annoyed Hank on a paternal level. He knew that Connor only had a few sets of clothing to his name since he had been essentially controlled by CyberLife since the day he had aged out of foster care and had only been given the bare essentials necessary to survive. Even so, he hated that Connor felt as if spending any amount of money on himself was a waste or a pointless endeavor. Hank had already given Connor some of his older but still good clothing that he couldn't fit into anymore the night Connor moved in with him, and yet in Hank's mind it still wasn't enough, and he needed to find a way to give Connor even more.

"What did you find out?" Hank asked with an icy mist cloud passing over his lips. The air was frigid, and Hank was ready to get some place warm to talk. "Anything we can use to identify our victim or what killed 'em?"

"Yes, I have uncovered their identity and the cause of shutdown." Connor crossed his arms over his chest as he brought Hank up to speed. Seeing Gavin and Tina talking to the witnesses in the distance gave the rookie detective pause considering he loathed being around Gavin. "The victim is of masculine build, an 'HR-400' model that had been originally registered under the name 'Diego' by his original owner, but he had recently changed his name to 'Charlie'."

"Not a bad name change. Too bad the poor guy didn't get to use it for very long." Clearing his throat Hank continued to focus on the case and did his best to ignore the relentless cold biting through his exposed skin. "Who was he before he died, and how did he die?"

"He was one of the androids being rented at the Eden Club before he deviated and fled." The rookie detective confirmed as he went into detail on the victim's life before it was prematurely ended. "Records confirm that he had been sheltering in CyberLife Tower, which had officially been renamed 'New Jericho Tower' by the deviant community. I was able to contact Markus though my cybernetic link in the A.R.I program, and he confirmed that Charlie had gone into the city to look for other deviants in need of shelter at three o'clock this afternoon."

"Pretty strange place to look for other deviants if you ask me." The sharp Lieutenant knew that something was fishy considering Charlie was supposed to be in the city, not out at the lake. "Something isn't adding up."

"Agreed. The cause of Charlie's shutdown stemmed from blunt force trauma to the back of his cranium resulting in catastrophic and irreparable damage to his intercranial processor. Essentially, he suffered brain damage resulting in his death." Turning his head Connor pointed to the shore where the body was found and motioned to the blue blood all around the victim. "He wasn't attacked in the city. He was attacked here and left to die. The amount of Thirium at the scene confirms that this is where he had been attacked."

"So the tire tracks are from someone who took Charlie from the city just to murder him out here and dump the body? Then we're looking for an abductor and a murderer."

"I'd hesitate to call this an abduction." Connor returned to the body and picked up Charlie's arm to show Hank his wrist. He then gently turned Charlie's head to see that there wasn't any residue around his nose and mouth. "There are no signs of being bound or restrained in any capacity. I suspect that the killer offered to give Charlie a ride and intentionally brought him out here just to murder him and dispose of the body."

"Charlie might have been hitchhiking, or he called for an Uber to pick him up." Hank was beginning to form his own theory as he put his hands to his hips in angered indignation of the entire ordeal. "The driver planned on killing Charlie, which means this is a premeditated murder. Can you tell me what was used to hit and kill him?"

"The impression and shape of the killing blow is indicative of a crowbar." Standing up again, Connor took a few steps back from the body and began stepping further onto the frozen surface of the lake. "There is no Thirium trail leading back to the area of the tire tracks, which means the killer either wrapped up the weapon to keep a trail from forming behind them, or they left the weapon behind in the area to try to dispose of the evidence in the natural surroundings."

"Fuckin' great. We need to find a way to identify the killer's vehicle, we need to find their weapon of choice, and we need to find the killer hiding somewhere in the city before they wise up and leave the area permanently." Hank pulled his phone from his pocket and began walking toward the Oldsmobile to make a call in somewhat privacy since he was going to be calling an old contact for a favor. "You look for any sign of the weapon, I'm going to call a buddy who monitors all driving services in the city to see if he can confirm or deny if our deviant victim used such a service tonight."

"I'm on it."

From the distance Gavin and Tina finished questioning the two witnesses and excused them for the night. They had finished asking of their questions, wrote down their statements, and made sure they had their contact information in the event of any further details coming to light. Once the two witnesses were dismissed Gavin looked out at Connor and gave him a disgusted glare before making his way to his squad car with Tina right beside him. No one wanted to be out in the cold that night any longer than necessary, and of course Gavin had no interest in helping out Connor or Hank for any reason. With Gavin being the ranking officer Tina had no choice but to accompany him and not challenge his decision.

Connor didn't even notice his two colleagues at the scene taking their leave while he began searching for the crowbar anywhere still in the area. Stepping further away from the shore and toward the frozen lake surface gave Connor a potential lead to follow. There was a disturbance to the ice in the form of several cracks and a small hole that weren't natural. Curiosity about the strange imperfection in the ice prompted Connor to get a little closer and examine the odd sight. A faint smear of frosted blue blood outlined the hole and practically confirmed that the crowbar had been thrown out onto the lake by the killer's hand with the intention of it breaking through the ice and sinking into the water out of sight.

"Weapon located. Lieutenant!" Standing next to the hole in the ice, Connor looked back at the shore and called out for Hank's attention. The echoing of his voice masked the sound of the already compromised ice underfoot cracking open a little wider. "I located the weapon!"

"Good work, kid!" Hank shouted back as he pressed his phone to his shoulder to cover his voice as to not shout in the ear of the person he was talking to on the other end of the line. After acknowledging Connor, he returned his focus to his phone and confirmed that his contact's suggestion would suffice. "Yeah, that works. Send the records right to my terminal and I'll look 'em over."

Pocketing his phone, Hank began walking back to the shoreline to reunite with Connor as the younger man continued to investigate the hole in the ice. As he neared the lake and stepped past the shutdown deviant body, Hank heard a distinct 'crack' in the distance and immediately knew what it was. He had personal experience from his own childhood when it came to ice that immediately told him what the problem was and that he needed to act fast.

"Oh, shit... Connor? Kid!" Standing perfectly still Hank looked about the icy surface to make sure there were no additional cracks forming near the shoreline. "Get back from there! The ice is-"

A thunderous 'crack' echoed over the lake and caused both Hank and Connor to react in shock. Connor looked down in time to see the cracks created by the hole expanding all around him like a spiderweb. The loosened, jagged portions of the ice began to shift around him and the freezing cold water oozed up in large surges that soaked through his shoes and into the cuffs of his jeans.

"Oh, shit..."

The slick ice gave way faster than Connor could react and within seconds he had fallen through the compromised ice and into the absolutely frigid waters against his will. The water soaked into his clothing instantly and stung Connor right to his core with the intensity of the freezing temperature. Stunned and now in shock from the extreme cold, Connor began slowly sinking into the depths of the painfully cold lake with no means of pulling himself out of the water or making it back to the shoreline before he succumbed to hypothermia and eventually drowned.

The darkness of the water was all consuming and blinding. Connor was numb in every sense beyond his vision. The blackness of the water obstructed him from seeing anything else around him beyond the white surface of the ice above him. The whiteness began to fade as he lost his breath and sank sluggishly deeper down into the water and away from the surface.

Pain, isolation, darkness.

Those were sensations that Connor was tragically familiar with. The rookie detective endured more pain, hardship and struggles in his twenty-two years of life than most people would experience in a full lifetime. Somehow the icy sting of the lake water entering his mouth and settling inside his lungs like a lead weight paled in comparison to the previous pains and struggles that Connor had already survived.

Above Connor, atop the icy surface, Hank snapped into action to save his submerged partner in just seconds. The man had shed his thick coat at the shoreline and moved as quickly as he dared across the ice to get to where he had last seen Connor after he slipped beneath the surface. Hank came to a skidding slide to the edge of the broken ice on his knees and peered down into the dark water below. A few faint bubbles confirmed that Connor was somewhere beneath the surface and that he couldn't have been too far away just yet.

Playing on a hunch Hank thrust his arm down into the water and reached blindly for the missing rookie detective with no guarantee that he'd even find Connor. The icy sting of the cold water numbed Hank's fingers and sent a painful shock through his hand and all the way up his arm. Pushing through the pain Hank waved his hand back and forth through the water until he very faintly felt something brush against his freezing fingertips. Reacting quickly Hank moved his hand down a little further and grabbed onto a bundle of loose fabric and held tight.

"Fuckin' hell!"

Pulling hard Hank managed to bring Connor's head up through the surface of the water in one motion. The sickly pale face of the younger man, the blue tinted lips, and the lack of response made Hank's heart skip a beat.

"Oh, shit... Hang on, son!"

Hank shifted his weight for better leverage and used both hands to grab on to the lapels of Connor's blazer and heft the younger man up and out of the water onto the surface of the ice. Once Connor was laying on his back over the ice Hank lifted his legs out of the water, then slipped both arms beneath the rookie detective's knees and shoulders. Through adrenaline and perseverance, Hank managed to carry Connor across the ice without slipping or falling through into the water a second time, and got his rookie, unresponsive partner back to the shoreline and to safety.

Connor didn't react to Hank rescuing him from the lake or breaching the surface of the freezing cold water. There was too much water in his lungs, and he was far too cold to respond to what was happening all around him. Even as he was placed down on the ground on his back, Connor didn't show any signs of awareness.

"Wake up!"

Leaning his head down Hank listened to Connor's chest, then listened closer to his nose and mouth for any sign of breathing. There was no heartbeat or respiration from the younger man.

"Son of a bitch..."

Moving quickly Hank pulled open the buttons of Connor's light blue dress shirt and began compressing down on his bare chest. Seeing the healed scar over Connor's abdomen only reminded Hank of how quick Connor was to put himself into dangerous situations. Whether that was just a part of Connor's nature or a part of CyberLife's training and conditioning, Hank couldn't say for sure.

"Come on, Connor. Come on! You need to come back."

The rhythmic compressions caused Connor's body to rock slightly back and forth under Hank's strong hands in a metronomic manner. There was still no sign of awareness even as the strong man's compressions re-fractured the rookie detective's actively healing ribs. Being given C.P.R. twice in the same month wasn't the most ideal situation for anyone to be in, and Connor was learning that the hard way. The odds of suffering from a permanent complication rose with each compression considering the internal trauma that the young man was actively enduring courtesy of the compressions.

"Breathe, kid... You need to breathe!"

A choking sound mid compression stopped Hank as he saw and heard water erupt from Connor's mouth. Reacting quickly Hank grabbed on to Connor's shoulder and rolled the younger man onto his side into the recovery position as Connor began coughing up the inhaled water in sickly, frothy puddles. Lightly Hank patted Connor's back and helped him to cough up the water and finally take in a clean breath.

"That's it, good job." Hank pressed his fingertips to the side of Connor's icy cold neck to monitor his suddenly racing pulse. "You're back... Thank fuck."

Connor gasped in pain and quickly curled around himself as the painful realization of being hypothermic and out in the cold settled in. As he began violently trembling the revived detective felt his ribs aching with a burning pain and soon felt Hank's coat being draped over him to try to provide some form of comfort. The sudden return to life and being met with pain was almost torturous.

"Hold on." Reaching into his coat's pocket, Hank located his phone and prepared to make another call. "I'm calling an ambulance right now."

"N-No!" It was hard to speak, but Connor managed to protest quite vividly as his mostly numb, wet hand found its way to Hank's wrist and held tight. "No hospitals."

"Kid, you're hypothermic and just drowned." Hank countered as he hissed at how much his hands were hurting from being submerged in the icy lake water then compressing Connor's frozen chest. He undoubtedly had some frostbite forming on his fingertips as a result of his efforts. "You need medical attention."

"NO." Connor refused to go to the hospital and even tried to roll from his side to balance on his knees to ensure that he was still somewhat curled around himself. The rookie detective was freezing inside and out, and yet he was adamant in avoiding a stay in the hospital. "I w-won't go!"

"Connor, you're-"

"I s-s-s-said NO!"

"This isn't the time- Connor," changing his tone Hank avoided an argument and just tried to be logical. "you need to see a doctor."

"NO!"

Despite everything that had happened Connor managed to get his legs beneath himself and stand up just long enough to take a single, shaking step forward before collapsing to the ground again. Connor began coughing harshly and spitting up more water seconds before Hank was beside him. The feeling of Hank patting his back to help him clear his airway was enough to make Connor flinch and curl up even tighter around his core.

"Can you at least tell me why you don't want to go to the hospital?" Hank asked as he started rubbing his hand over Connor's back in hopes that his dry coat would help Connor feel even marginally warmer while they were still out in the open, cold air. "You're in serious need of proper medical attention."

"'N-No' is a c-complete sentence."

"Yeah..." There was no arguing on such a succinct and honest response. "Yeah, I know."

Letting out an aggravated sigh Hank wrapped his arm around Connor's upper back beneath his shoulders and then pulled the younger man up to his feet again. There was no winning an argument with someone who wasn't even open to a debate, let alone changing the mind of a detective who had already made their decision.

"Come on, then." Hank relented to Connor's refusal for medical help and decided to take matters into his own hands. "If you're not going to let a doctor treat you, then I'm going to have to take care of you instead."

"I d-don't need-"

"Shut up!" The older man snapped as he hefted Connor over to the Oldsmobile and opened the passenger side door to sit the younger man down in the seat. "If you're not going to see a doctor after fuckin' dying for a few seconds, then you don't get any say in how I treat your condition back at the house. You're lucky I don't pull rank on your saggy ass right now."

Connor shivered violently and continued to cough as his lungs fought to expel the lingering, dirty lake water from his system. He didn't have anything else to say and wasn't about to try to argue with Hank wanting to take care of him considering he had refused medical treatment despite his recent brush with death. The rookie detective had very limited options.

"Sit tight." Hank turned over the car's engine and cranked up the heat in a desperate bid to ease the hypothermia damaging Connor's body from the inside out. It wouldn't be impossible to treat Connor's condition back at the house, but it was going to be a hell of a lot more difficult to do compared to what the hospital could do for him instead. "I'm going to get us back to the house as fast as I can. Once we're there, you're going to take a warm bath and slowly increase the temperature so that you don't send yourself into shock by mistake."

"Th-Then what?"

"You're going to put on thick, warm clothes and settle on the couch under every blanket I can find." As he drove from the lake and back to the house Hank held his right hand against the vent of the blasting heater and flexed his fingers slowly to try and save his hand from painful frostbite. "You need to keep warm and get the rest of the water out of your lungs."

Coughing erupted from Connor's lips in a painful fit. Every cough brought up more water and aggravated his sore ribs in a very distracting manner. It was like the air he needed to breathe was a knife stabbing him in the chest with each inhalation.

"Let it out, kid." Relaxing his hand for a minute Hank glanced over at Connor had to fight the urge to take a detour and drive the younger detective over to the nearest hospital despite Connor's earlier protests. "You were under for almost a minute. Good thing the water's cold; it probably saved you from permanent injury."

"...U-Unlikely."

Spitting a little onto the floor, Connor tried to stop the coughing and pulled his legs up to his chest to try to keep warm. The blasting heat from the vents wasn't enough to stave off the cold penetrating every fiber of Connor's being. He was still pale, and his lips were still tinted blue from the cold. A layer of white frost had begun forming on his drenched clothing only to melt as the heater thawed the icy material.

Everything was a confusing, painful blur for Connor. He couldn't focus on anything beyond the pain in his chest. The hypothermic detective didn't notice that he and Hank were already back at the house until Hank had dragged him out of the Oldsmobile, pulled him through the front door and half carried, half dragged him down the hallway and into the bathroom. The sound of the faucet in the tub being turned on made Connor jump and pulled him back to reality.

"You need to get these wet clothes off." Hank stated matter-of-factly as he pulled off Connor's shoes one at a time. "I'll get you some dry clothes from the hallway closet. Sit in the tub until you stop shivering, then get redressed. The sooner you warm up, the better."

Connor slowly responded to Hank's instructions as he was too overwhelmed by everything to really think. It was awkward and uncomfortable, but Connor managed to slip off his socks, then his blazer, shirt and jeans all while his body trembled violently from the cold smothering his entire form. Using one arm for balance Connor pulled himself up to rest on the edge of the bathtub, then carefully lowered himself down onto the other side of the edge to sit in the slowly rising water filling the tub in just his boxers.

The moment the warm water hit his frigid skin Connor felt immediate relief. However, the relief wouldn't last long considering his he was still shivering, coughing, and had new fractured ribs atop his re-fractured ribs to contend with. The warmth of the water was all Connor could really feel and all he could focus on. It helped him to feel more grounded even as he sat in quiet confusion about what he had just survived. Just as he had done during the car ride home Connor pulled his legs up to his chest and wrapped his arms around his shins to try to hold still despite shivering from the remaining cold inside his body.

When he was beneath the ice Connor felt nothingness and saw blackness. Now that he was in the safety of Hank's home, he could feel warmth and see light.

It was a positive change and yet one that Connor believed he didn't actually deserve to experience.

"This should be enough for you to keep warm." Hank stated as he placed some folded up clothing down on the floor next to the bathtub. The man then shed his blue and orange striped shirt to stand in just the black t-shirt beneath as he turned on the warm water in the sink. "How do you feel?"

"F-Frozen."

"Seems normal." The older man confirmed as he slipped his hands beneath the warm running water to ease the painful sensation of his hands being submerged in the icy cold water. The warm water was aiding in Hank's own recovery while Connor sat in the still filling bathtub. "I'll call Fowler and let him know that you were able to confirm that the victim was murdered and ask for Ben to take over where we left off."

"N-No, we can f-f-finish this investig-gation."

"Kid, we're done." Hank turned to look at Connor and saw the actual disappointment in his eyes. It was like he just told a child that they couldn't stop at the toy store after school. "Look, you got hurt in the line of duty and need medical attention. Whether that attention comes from a doctor or from me, you're going to stay down and recover before we go back to work. End of discussion."

"I c-can't... Failure is u-unacceptable."

"You didn't fail anything. You got a great lead and confirmed that our victim was murdered, which means we know to look for a murderer and bring them to justice before they get away." With his hands feeling better Hank turned off the water in the sink and checked on the water in the tub next. A quick temperature check by hand confirmed it was warm enough to help Connor without being excessively hot. "Besides, we needed to wait for a confirmation from my contact about who could've potentially picked up our victim and driven him to the lake."

"Still n-need to close th-the case." Connor rebutted as Hank turned off the water in the tub and then grabbed a washcloth to soak in the water. All he could do was watch Hank wring out the washcloth then place the damp material over his freezing locks of hair to help thaw them out. "I c-can do it."

"I know you can, but you will AFTER you recover." The emphasis in Hank's voice was undeniable. The man wanted Connor to rest, and he wasn't going to back down or compromise any time soon. "Let me see your hands. I want to make sure you're not developing frostbite."

Slowly Connor unwrapped his arms from around his legs and showed Hank his palms then stretched out his fingers. The intense cold had turned his fingers and toes white, but as he warmed up the color began to return to a healthier shade.

"Good. Your nose and ears aren't discolored either, so that's another good sign."

Connor didn't respond as Hank took the washcloth from his hair to resoak in the warm water, wring out and return to his hair. As much as Connor didn't want to admit it, having Hank helping him out did make him feel a little better. Such admissions were considered weak by CyberLife's standards, and Connor wasn't sure if the same standard applied at the precinct or not.

"That lake isn't the cleanest in the city, so I want to make sure that you're not going to get an infection from the water." The older man confirmed as he set about gathering other supplies from the shelves in the bathroom. It was as if his instincts as a father had never gone dormant with how quickly he was responding to Connor getting potentially sick. "This won't feel great, but it's the best way to keep you from getting knocked down with an ear infection of some kind."

Wordlessly Connor watched as Hank grabbed a cotton swab and the bottle of rubbing alcohol before bringing it over to the tub. The rookie detective had to make a conscious effort to not flinch away from Hank's touch as he used the swab to remove the lake water from Connor's ears. The way the older man was able to demonstrate a gentle touch and a compassionate nature threw Connor off guard as he had never expected to receive such kindness from anyone.

"I used to get swimmer's ear every summer as a kid because I spent so much time in the lakes or in pools." Hank empathized as he explained what he was doing to make sure Connor didn't feel smothered. "Trust me, preventing that kind of problem before it happens is way better than treating the problem after it shows up."

"...I c-could've done that." Connor could only tilt his head from side to side to rub his ears against his shoulders in response to the odd sensation left behind by the disinfecting swab. "I'm not a-a child."

"First of all, you could do that only AFTER your hands stop shaking. You might puncture your eardrums if you're not careful." Hank responded as he tossed out the used swab and put the rubbing alcohol away. "And second, child or not, you still need some help. Like I said before, I'm helping you because I want to help you. Try not to read too much into this."

"I'm n-not. I j-just..." Trailing off Connor let his thought drift away since he believed that it wasn't important. "N-Nevermind."

"Connor, listen to me." Hank lowered himself to the floor beside the bathtub and leaned back a little as he gave the younger detective his full attention. "I know you came from a pretty fucked up place while growing up. You won't talk about it, which is fine, but know that you're not alone and that you don't need to keep that kind of pain inside anymore."

"I c-can handle it."

"That doesn't mean you should have to handle it alone." With a slow motion Hank made a move to press the back of his hand to the side of Connor's neck only to pull his hand back when Connor started coughing again. The water that escaped Connor's lips was dark like the lake water, and it had undoubtedly left his respiratory tract lined with dirt and bacteria. "That's a nasty cough, kid. Lean forward and make sure you're getting it all out."

The coughing fit stole Connor's voice and wracked his entire body with painful spasms. Being unable to catch his breath or speak made Connor feel all the more vulnerable where he sat. Had he been alone then Connor would've felt entirely defenseless.

"Stay in the water a while longer. I'm going to make you some tea."

Connor wanted to protest the idea since he felt as if again, he was putting Hank out or being difficult. Before he could utter a single syllable, Hank was gone, and the coughing detective was left alone. At least, he had been left alone until Sumo plodded into the bathroom to check on the hypothermic man. Letting out a sickly gasp and then physically shuddering again, Connor fell back slowly to lay down in the warm water and wrap his arms protectively around his aching ribs.

Sumo whined a little as he sat down beside the tub and rested his chin down on the edge of the tub to stare at Connor. The large dog was a protective one, albeit very gentle in nature. The way his big brown eyes seemed to be studying Connor's every move as the young detective tried to recover from his hypothermia and nasty cough without needing to seek a doctor's care.

"Electric kettle works a hell of a lot faster than the traditional one on the stove." Hank admitted as he carried a mug of steeping green tea into the bathroom and placed it on the edge of the tub. "I noticed you like to add honey and lemon to your tea, but I didn't know how much."

"...Th-Thanks."

"Man, you look somehow paler than when I left for the kitchen." Seeing the younger man looking worse for wear than improving gave Hank every reason to be worried about Connor's health. Placing a bundle of towels down for Connor to reach was all Hank could do until Connor stepped out of the bathtub. "You've stopped shivering, that's good. Stay there a while longer then dry off and get dressed. I'll find all the blankets I can spare for you. I know there's a hot water bottle floating around here somewhere..."

Connor wanted to protest Hank going out of his way to help him, but there was no point. Not only did Connor not have the strength to say a single word, but he knew that Hank was going to continue to help him whether he wanted it or not. It was as if Hank had been specifically chosen out of all the other detectives in the city to be Connor's partner and eventually become his friend because the man could handle Connor's stubbornness without even blinking.

Feeling somewhat better, Connor lifted his hand out of the water and stared at his pale palm for only a minute before rubbing his palm over his hair to push aside the washcloth and finish rinsing the lake water out of his locks. Fortunately, he didn't smell like the lake but that didn't mean he didn't still look like he took a frosty plunge into the lake against his will less than an hour beforehand.

Once his hands were rinsed off Connor carefully removed his ruined contact lenses from his eyes and felt immediate relief. The lenses would never be the same after being in the freezing, dirty lake, and Connor didn't want to risk any form of eye infection from the lenses if he could help it. Everything got a little bit blurry, but Connor still knew he was in a safe space and that he was now okay.

Clean and much warmer, Connor sat upright slowly and removed the plug to allow the dirty water to swirl down the drain. Thanks to his sore ribs Connor struggled to shift his weight properly and pull himself out of the tub to sit on the floor and wrap himself up in the fluffy towels beside him. Never before did Connor feel so lucky as to have a bundle of clean towels to stave off the cold air and keep him covered while he dried himself slowly.

Sumo happily cuddled up beside Connor as the cold man pulled the towels around his shoulders, his waist and his legs. Being able to shroud himself in the warm, fluffy material was a strangely comforting sensation. It even reminded Connor of something more positive from his past, and yet he couldn't fully place where the memory came from or why it was being triggered by something as simple as wrapping up in some towels on the bathroom floor.

"Found the blankets." Hank announced as he returned to the bathroom and knelt down in front of Connor. The man rubbed Sumo's ears while he took in Connor's complexion with an attentive eye. "The hunt for the hot water bottle continues. Until then, you can use Sumo for additional warmth."

"I-I'm fine."

"Your voice is still shaking." The older man noted with a worried lilt. "Open your mouth, let me see if your throat's irritated."

Connor sighed in defeat as he lifted his head up a little more and opened his mouth. It was a fight against his own reflexes to not jerk away when Hank put his hand beneath his chin to lower his jaw a little further.

"Not red, that's good." Even in the minimal lighting of the bathroom's overhead light Hank could tell that Connor wasn't developing a throat infection. "Must be all the coughing that's mess with your voice. Think you can stand?"

Only after Hank pulled his hand back did Connor even try to stand up. He didn't want to unbury his hands from the towels to support his weight as he moved.

"Guess not. Sit there for a while longer." Hank straightened up and took the clothes he had brought for Connor down on the floor to make it easier for Connor to get dressed once he had enough strength to do so. "I'm gonna' go crank up the heat, change into some clean clothes myself, and call the precinct. Take your time, kid."

The very idea of needing to get up and walk anywhere ached at Connor's already aching chest. The cold still lingering inside his body caused him to shiver and make the fractures to his ribs feel worse. Every time he coughed Connor only exasperated his injuries and made the pain flare up in a new wave of agony.

"H-Have to get up."

Connor let out a shallow breath and forced himself to grab his clothing and pull it on to cover himself up while still hidden beneath the towels. It was hard to move with his ribs burning in pain while his fingers were still icy cold. Every muscle ached, his joints felt stiff, and it felt like a deep breath would cause his ribs to snap open. Despite his discomfort and misery Connor managed to finally dress himself in the warm, dry clothes and force himself to let go of his warm cocoon of towels.

Using one arm to support his ribs and the other arm to push himself up from the floor, Connor managed to awkwardly get to his socked feet and had Sumo right at his side to essentially escort him to the livingroom. Shivering and looking like a puppy caught out in the rain wasn't helping matters considering Connor was adamant in not going to a hospital or seeing a doctor. As soon as he shuffled into the livingroom and sat down on the couch, Connor found himself being wrapped up in the provided blankets by Hank while Sumo sprawled over his lap to help him keep warm.

"Fowler's okay with us taking the rest of the evening off. As far as anyone knows, we're taking a shorter shift." Hank explained as he watched the worry flash over Connor's eyes. There were times when Hank swore that he saw a child looking back at him whenever he looked at the rookie detective's eyes. "No one knows you went through the ice except for Fowler since he needs to know if one of his detectives is physically, mentally or emotionally compromised."

"I'm s-sorry."

"Hey, don't apologize. Accidents happen." The older man sympathized as he noticed that Connor was still pale and shivering. He also noticed that every time he took in a breath he winced in pain. "How do you feel? You know, besides cold."

"...H-Horrendous."

"You look like your whole body hurts."

"I feel-" Stopping short Connor tried to dismiss Hank's concerns yet again as if he had endured nothing more serious than a hangnail. "I'm o-okay."

"You're allowed to acknowledge being in pain. I've seen you shake off getting a knife through your hand and across your gut like it was nothing, and that type of behavior is learned the hard way."

"S-Stop trying to a-analyze me."

"I'm not analyzing you, I'm just observing what's right in front of me." Hank stated smugly as he walked around the couch to sit down next to Connor. The man was now wearing a pair of sweatpants, a thick hoodie over his t-shirt and socks just like Connor was. "Anyone who tries to deny or dismiss their own pain, won't eat or drink anything willingly, has trouble sleeping... Well, that worries me."

"I l-left the tea in the bathroom."

"Right, I'll go and get it for you."

Connor leaned back against the couch cushions and winced as the simple motion pulled at his sore ribs. Having Sumo's cold, wet nose pressing into the side of his neck helped Connor remember that he truly wasn't alone anymore, and that he was cared for and cared about. Something about the way Sumo was acting as a protective presence helped Connor to finally relax enough to begin resting through the worst of his situation.

"You should eat something." The protective Lieutenant suggested as he rejoined Connor on the couch and handed him the retrieved mug of tea. "I know you won't feel like eating anything right now after such a close call, but you'll want to keep your strength up while you're healing."

"I'm all right now." Speaking without any shivering to break up his words, Connor accepted the mug and looked over at Hank with a bleary, tired gaze. "I'm warming up and I'm not experiencing any other issues beyond my coughing fits."

"You drowned. You were down and out for-" Hank chose his next words carefully as he did his best to reach out to Connor without him accidentally pushing the younger man away by mistake. "Look, it's a miracle that you regained consciousness so quickly after you were revived. You regaining your bearings so quickly is impressive too. But I wish you'd at least let a doctor check your lungs so that we know that you're not in any danger."

"I don't need a doctor." Connor nearly growled as he turned away from Hank and tightened his grip on the mug in his hands. The warmth of the steeping tea eased the lingering discomfort in his chilled palms. "I can deal with this."

"Someone hurt you bad when you were a kid." The older, far more seasoned detective confirmed without needing to ask. The trauma was plain on Connor's face and in his own body language. "You're not in the same place you were then, you're safe. You can talk about-"

"I can, but I don't want to." The fatigue in his eyes darkened into anger at the way Hank was pushing him so hard to talk about his past. "Leave it alone, Lieutenant."

"Okay, fine. I won't bring it up again." Hank momentarily admitted defeat and let the matter drop. He had only just begun to break through Connor's protective shell, and he didn't want to do anything that'd make the younger man put up more walls to protect himself. "We're going to call off from work tomorrow so you can recover here since you won't go to the hospital. We'll be able to keep looking for your brother from here too."

"...Good." Without even so much as sipping his tea Connor put the mug aside on the coffee table and shifted his weight to curl up on his side on the couch with his mountain of blankets and Sumo's fur to keep him warm. "I'd like to sleep now."

"Yeah, okay." The protective man rose to his feet and let Connor have the entire couch to sleep on. Hank had to resist the urge to reach over the back of the furniture to give Connor's forehead a quick fever-check as he made his way into the kitchen to get something to eat for himself. "The more you rest, the sooner you'll feel better. I'm gonna' make a light dinner then head to bed myself."

Dealing with a stubborn detective wasn't anything new for Hank, same with dealing with a person who survived an abusive, negligent childhood. However, dealing with someone who was a stubborn detective who also survived abuse and actively refused to accept any help for any reason, that was a new challenge that Hank wasn't quite sure how to handle just yet.

---

It was just past midnight when Hank was rudely awoken from his light sleep by the sound of deep, painful coughing and wheezing from the livingroom. It only took him a few seconds to remember that it was Connor who was sleeping in the livingroom and that the rookie detective had a dangerously close encounter with a potential premature ending just a few hours prior. The man's instincts as a detective told him to check on his young partner to make sure that he didn't need anything else while he slept on the couch, and yet the man's paternal instincts told him to make sure that Connor wasn't in need of medical attention despite Connor's earlier protests. Something in his gut told him to get to the livingroom and check on Connor as soon as he could get to the younger man's side. That horrible cough and distressed breathing were enough to get adrenaline coursing through Hank's veins in a single heartbeat.

As he made his way down the hallway Hank caught sight of Sumo standing beside the couch nervously pawing at the floor while Connor hacked and wheezed painfully in the same place that he had been sleeping during the night. Hank flipped on the overhead light with the nearby switch and promptly looked down at Connor from over the back of the couch. The painful coughing fit had stolen the air from Connor's lungs and sent a burning ache through his injured ribs putting Hank on alert.

"Kid?"

Hank lightly put his palm to Connor's shoulder and held tight as he tried to steady the rookie detective's ongoing coughing fit. The moment Hank's palm reached Connor's shoulder he knew that his partner was in trouble.

"Oh, shit... You went from too damn cold to too damn hot in record time."

Connor's face was pale and covered in a fine sheen of sweat courtesy of his sudden fever. Being unable to breathe only made his condition all the more uncomfortable as he fought to cease coughing and take in a cooling breath. Once the fit passed Connor fell backward weakly, slowly with a gasping wheeze that left his ribs trembling in pain. Every breath he tried to take in was accompanied by a struggling gasp that made his chest rise very slowly but fall quickly. The sick detective didn't have the strength or lung capacity to breathe properly.

"Connor, can you hear me?"

The moment Hank saw Connor's heavy eyelids crack open to reveal his glassy, bloodshot eyes, he knew that he needed to find a way to get the younger man some medical attention, Connor's protests be damned.

"You're very sick. You need to let me-"

More coughing immediately erupted from Connor causing the younger man to curl protectively around his chest again. The blankets that had kept him warm were only making his fever worse, and now that he had his legs tangled up in the blankets made Connor feel dangerously restricted. The risk of hypothermia had passed, but now the threat of significant brain and lung damage was looming overhead.

"It'll be okay, kid. Try to take it easy, I'll help you get through this."

Hank promised as he carefully freed Connor of the blankets and placed both palms on the sick man's shoulders to hold him steady against the couch until the coughing fit passed. Spit covered Connor's mouth, and each wheezing gasp he took in made him sound all the more pitiful. The man's face was pale from weakness, sickness and now mounting hypoxia from being unable to breathe adequately.

"I'm going to check your pulse, don't fight me on this."

Having training in emergency first aid was always a handle skill, albeit one that no one wanted to have to use. Lightly Hank pressed his fingertips to the side of Connor's neck to check his pulse and picked up his wrist to ensure he was counting an accurate heart rate under his touch. Feeling how fast Connor's heart was racing and hearing him gasping just to take in a simple breath scared Hank, but he didn't dare to let it show on his face. He needed to stay calm and in control for his friend's sake in that hectic moment.

Hank knew for certain that Connor was in serious need of medical attention. Pressing his palm flat against the center of Connor's chest only confirmed that the younger man was struggling to breathe and needed to be taken to the hospital as soon as possible.

"Try to slow your breathing."

The seasoned detective instructed as he hastily returned to his bedroom to retrieve his phone. He was dialing 911 and requesting an ambulance before he had even set foot back inside the livingroom to monitor Connor's condition.

"I don't want to scare you, but I think you're dry-drowning."

Connor's coughing suddenly ceased as he took in very shallow, gasping breaths. The rookie detective's already pale face turned a sickly shade of white and his lips were turning blue as his body went limp and his chest barely rose and fell with his waning, hollow breathing. Unable to keep his eyes open, Connor watched his world darken and grow silent with only the fading image of Hank hovering protectively over him to remind him of what he was currently going through.

"Hang on, kid! You're going to be okay, I promise."

The moment Connor lost consciousness Hank focused on keeping the rookie detective alive while he waited for the ambulance to arrive. Connor's weak respiratory activity prompted Hank to prop Connor upright against the arm of the couch, ensure his airway was fully open and clear, then he rubbed his knuckles along Connor's sternum hoping that the painful stimuli would be enough to get him to respond and come to his senses.

It was as if time was slowing down and speeding up all around Hank. The lights flashing through his windows and the sirens echoing along the street did little to ease his worries as he fought to keep Connor breathing and alert despite the sick man's feverish haze and chest injury. As a skilled detective Hank knew how to remain calm in emergency situations, but that didn't make them any easier to handle whenever they happened to someone that he either cared about or was just starting to care about.

Without waiting to respond Hank scooped up Connor in his arms and threw open the front door just in time to meet the two paramedics approaching him with a gurney in tow. Lightly Hank placed Connor down on the gurney and explained to the paramedics what had happened earlier that evening and what had just happened minutes ago in the livingroom. As soon as the paramedics heard about the near-drowning in the freezing cold lake they knew they needed to hasten their treatment and get Connor to the hospital as quickly as possible.

Time was already running out for the ill rookie detective, and this time it wasn't because of CyberLife.

---

St. Mercy Hospital: Inside the Intensive Care Unit

The cold night just kept getting colder. Connor had been taken into Intensive Care immediately and was undergoing a few select tests while a specialized breathing treatment helped his lungs to recover after the near-drowning incident. During the ambulance ride to the hospital the paramedics had managed to stabilize Connor's breathing and ended up intubating him en route to ensure that he was able to breathe in some capacity. After he was assessed by an emergency medical team Connor was set up with a ventilator to both help him breathe and to aid in drying out his wet lungs considering they were still suffering the ill effects of the near-drowning itself. An I.V. line of antibiotics had been set up in the bend of one arm, and another I.V. to replenish his fluids and support his potentially compromised immune system had been placed in the other arm.

Hank could only stand against the wall of the private recovery room and watch as Connor struggled to breathe even with the ventilator assisting him. Despite the doctor telling him that the ventilator was just being used as a precaution since it'd help take the strain off of Connor's struggling lungs while the wet congestion dried out, Hank couldn't help but fear the worst. Seeing someone so young who was also so sheltered from the world made Hank see Connor as an actual child at times, and the sight of a child who was sick or in pain would always break his heart.

Nursing his own headache with a cup of coffee did very little to ease Hank's worries. Had it not been for Captain Fowler taking the time to answer his phone and give the detectives an additional day off, Hank was sure he'd be on the floor in abject misery courtesy of his headache. There were times when Hank was still glad to have some form of friendship with Jeffery, and that night was proving to be one of those times.

The sight of the attached cardiac monitor silently recording Connor's vital signs wasn't as reassuring as Hank had hoped it'd be. The numbers were all in green which meant Connor was stable - even his fever had dropped to a less critical number - and yet seeing the medical equipment surrounding Connor was upsetting. Seeing all of the necessary precautions just reminded Hank of how fragile life itself truly was despite its generational resilience.

"Uh," a soft feminine voice suddenly broke the quiet of the room. "mind if I check in with you before me and my partner head out?"

Hank turned to face the opened door of the room as one of the two paramedics who had aided Connor in his time of need poked her head through the door frame. The medic was a young woman of a fair complexion with long brunette hair pulled up in a neat ponytail, she had hazel-green eyes, a slim build, and a bright, mischievous smile that made it difficult to remain in a foul mood. Seeing the somewhat familiar and friendly face was an impressively effective means of helping to ease Hank's worries.

"I heard you two are detectives." The paramedic continued as she quietly entered the room and stood beside Hank just close enough to place a reassuring palm on his bicep. It was clear that the friendly young woman had experience in handling first responders as her colleagues and her patients. "Definitely explains why your partner would put off accepting any kind of medical treatment until it's the literal last minute to do anything to help him."

"Yeah, sure." Hank sipped his coffee again and tried to not let his fear show. Just as Connor didn't want to show any signs of vulnerability or weakness, Hank didn't want to let his fear for Connor's life show for anyone for the younger man's sake. "I wish it was as simple as that."

"Sounds like he has a pretty interesting past. I'm Abby, by the way." Lightly Abby rubbed her palm along Hank's bicep and while trying to give him a reassuring presence to lean on. "Abby Grayson. As you may have guessed, I'm an E.M.S. and as you may NOT have guessed, in a few months I'll be working as a technician to aid deviant androids. We might run into one another every now and then until I've been assigned my permanent facility. Hopefully it'll be for a less disturbing reason; like mutually responding to an emergency call or me sweettalking my way out of a parking ticket."

"Sure, maybe."

"I'm sorry, you're worried about your friend and I'm just bothering you."

"No, you're not bothering me, and I appreciate your company." Setting aside his remaining coffee Hank rubbed his fingertips along his temples to try and ease his headache another way. "I am worried though. The kid's... Well, he's been through a lot."

"How much is a lot?"

"Enough that he won't even tell me about it."

"Ah, so... A lifetime's worth. That's always fun to deal with." Abby sympathized as she gave Hank a friendly voice to hear. "Anything I could do to help? I know a thing or two about getting traumatized people to open and talk. You know, at least I could do that if he was actually conscious."

"If you could just tell me what the doctor said about Connor's condition in far simpler terms, me and my headache would be eternally grateful. I just want to know what to expect."

"Sure, I can do that." Abby readjusted her thick jacket to keep herself warm as she walked over to the end of Connor's bed to check his digital medical chart. The details on the chart were informative and worrying for any medic's eyes. "Okay, so it looks like he's developed pneumonia. They're still performing tests, but right now his medical team is certain that the infection is being caused by bacteria in the water, so they're treating him with the appropriate antibiotics. So far, he's responding well to the treatment. Still feverish, but it's already come down a degree since being admitted."

"What about the drowning? You know," walking over to the bed as well Hank looked down at his unconscious partner's face and lightly pressed his palm down on the younger man's shoulder. "I, uh, had to perform C.P.R. on him, and he had spiked a pretty nasty fever before you and your partner came to the rescue. Fractured ribs, near-drowning, high fever... Should I be worried about any permanent damage?"

"No more damage than what he was dealing with before his impromptu dip in the lake last night."

"What?" As far as Hank was concerned Connor's only damage stemmed from mental, emotional and psychological abuse at the hands of CyberLife personnel. The very idea that he had any form of preexisting physical damage seemed improbable. "What kind of damage are you talking about?"

"The dense scarring of his pulmonary tissues." The way Abby spoke of the issue was entirely professional. It was as if she had spent more time as a doctor than as a paramedic with how she could handle any condition. "The x-rays of his lungs show significant scarring on his lungs that's about... I'd estimate to be anywhere from ten to fifteen years old."

"He's twenty-two, so that'd mean he was anywhere from about six to twelve years old when he got hurt." The quick math only made Hank's fears for Connor's health and the way he saw him as a lost kid all the worst. The display of the x-ray on the chart made Hank cringe. "Can you tell what caused the scars?"

"Not really. The first thing that comes to mind is smoke inhalation, but I'm a little bias since I work with firefighters." Abby explained as she returned the chart to the end of Connor's bed right where she had found it. "Second guess would be noxious chemical exposure. Then there's previous illnesses, some medications, radiation, autoimmune conditions and of course smoking excessive amounts of cigarettes or weed. Since tobacco's been outlawed for about five years now, that might be too much of a stretch for him."

"No way the kid could've smoked anything without CyberLife getting on his case."

"Wait, he worked for CyberLife as a detective?"

"Not exactly, but he did work for the company for a few years."

"Oh... Well, in that case, I would lean heavily on chemical exposure." Stepping back a little Abby gave Hank an award grin as she decided that she needed to reunite with her partner and return to their station for the night. "CyberLife's mistreatment wasn't reserved just for androids."

"What do you know about CyberLife?" That comment was too suspicious to leave unquestioned. Hank didn't know anything about CyberLife's behavior behind their secured walls. "Did you work for them?"

"No, but I trained alongside plenty of former CyberLife personnel to know that the company was as corrupt and demented as deviants have been saying since the beginning. If you can get him to open up and talk about his past, you listen to every word he speaks and encourage him to tell others his story."

"Yeah, sound advice."

"Hey, I know it seems cheesy and a little cliche, but it does help. I know that for a fact since I'm speaking from experience." Abby stated firmly as she offered Hank's arm one last reassuring squeeze before she went on her way. "Just stay patient with him and make sure he knows that you're his friend first and partner second."

"What makes you think we're friends?"

"Please. You're standing in his hospital room at two in the morning wearing hospital scrubs and slippers because you carried him out to the ambulance in your bare feet to get him medical attention." She hadn't overlooked Hank wearing turquoise colored scrubs and gray slippers even though he wasn't a patient. "If that's not real friendship, then I don't know what is."

Hank could only grin as he gave Abby a nod of approval with her assessment. Knowing that he wasn't alone in wanting Connor to open up about his past and finally talk about what he went through gave Hank the confidence to believe that in time he'd really form a true friendship with the rookie detective.

"I need to get back to my station, but feel free to call me down at Station 51 if you need to talk to someone who has an idea of what's going on."

"Thanks, I'll be sure to wave any future parking tickets that come your way."

"I'm going to hold you to that!" Abby teased as she made her way through the door to take her leave of the hospital. "And try to get some sleep. Once your friend there is discharged from the hospital, he's going to be a pain in the ass to keep down long enough to rest properly. You might need to break out the duct tape."

Hank sighed and crossed his arms over his chest as he looked at Connor's pale face and watched the attending doctor arrive to check on the sick detective. He couldn't deny that Abby seemed to be full of good advice, and it he couldn't even attempt to deny that he was tired. The man had no choice but to step out of the room and get some sleep while Connor rested in his private room for the remainder of the night.

"How's he doing, doc?" Hank asked as he watched Dr. Wilson use his stethoscope to listen to Connor's chest directly. Seeing Connor fail to react to the cold metal of the bell pressing against his chest beneath the hospital gown reminded Hank that the younger detective wasn't just sleeping. "Can he come off that vent yet?"

"Not just yet, but he will in less than a day." The young doctor confirmed confidently as he draped the stethoscope around his neck and made notes in Connor's digital chart. Dr. Caleb Wilson was young but had a good head on his shoulders. "The congestion in his lungs is starting to clear up, and the crackling is almost entirely gone now that the remaining water has been removed."

"And his fever?"

"It won't break for a couple of days since his pneumonia won't clear up entirely overnight." The good doctor explained as he checked the I.V. lines in Connor's arms to ensure they didn't need to be disinfected or replaced for a while longer. "As long as it remains under one-hundred and two, I suspect his immune system will work well with the antibiotics and help him overcome this."

"I hope you're right."

"So do I. Otherwise I went to medical school for nothing."

Hank watched as Dr. Wilson tended to Connor with a diligent eye. The young doctor had a dark complexion, ink black hair, deep and warm brown eyes, and a smile that anyone in Hollywood would envy. Even as he checked the tube down Connor's throat and then the rookie detective's pupils with his penlight, Dr. Wilson managed to look entirely certain in his prognosis despite the odds that had been stacked against Connor.

"The fractures to his ribs will be the last injury that his body will manage to heal." Dr. Wilson admitted with a respectful manner. Lightly he pressed his palm along Connor's chest to make sure the fractures were stable despite Connor being almost entirely motionless where he was laying. "It's a good thing you got him out of the water when you did. If he had stayed down for too much longer, I suspect his condition would be twice as bad."

"Make sure he knows that I had called 911 because I had no other choice." Despite having nothing but support confirming that he did the right thing by calling for an ambulance Hank still felt guilty for intentionally doing something that Connor didn't want. "The kid hates hospitals, and I don't think he'll be too fond of you since he hates doctors just as much. That's why he wasn't brought in earlier."

"Don't worry, Lieutenant. I'm used to patients who want nothing to do with a doctor's care, AND my brother is a cop." Smiling smugly Dr. Wilson wrote down a few basic instructions for the attending nurses to ensure Connor's condition remained stable. "I'm used to dealing with stubborn cops who think they know more about the fragility of the human body than I do."

"Sounds like you're the perfect man for the job."

"Why don't you get some sleep? Since you're a first responder I won't ask you to leave the hospital." The compassionate doctor saw the fatigue in Hank's eyes and knew that the man was running on fumes. "There's a vacant room down the hall you can use for the night."

"Thanks, but I'll stay out in the hallway and use the chairs. I don't want to be too far away in case Connor wakes up or gets combative with the hospital staff."

"All right. If you want an extra pillow or a blanket, just ask."

"Yeah, I'll do that." Hank stepped up to the beside once more and gave Connor's shoulder a gentle squeeze. He didn't want to leave Connor feeling alone even though he'd just be outside the room. "You're going to get through this, kid. I'll be right outside if you need me."

---

St. Mercy Hospital: Outside the Intensive Care Unit

The previous night had been far from restful for Hank as the older Lieutenant subjected himself to the unforgiving plastic of the single row of four chairs within the corridor outside of Connor's recovery room. The way he had forced himself to sleep curled up on his side atop the chairs ached at his back, his neck and his shoulders. Exhaustion was the only reason that Hank managed to get any sleep at all considering what was happening around him. Had the man not been disturbed by the sound of voices speaking to one another down the hallway, then he would've continued to sleep for a little while longer. The moment Hank opened his bleary eyes and recognized his surroundings, he realized that he hadn't just had a very wild and vivid nightmare after all. He was in the hospital and waiting for an update on Connor's current condition.

Slowly Hank sat upright on the chair beneath his hips and rubbed the lingering fatigue from his eyes. As he glanced about the hallway, he spotted Connor through the observation window of his private room and noticed that Connor was already awake. The young detective was feebly trying to pull the tube out of his throat with one pale, weak hand despite not being deemed strong enough to be off the ventilator just yet. It was clear Connor was reacting to the intrusive tubing and was trying to remove it before it was time.

"Shit... Even when he's as weak as a kitten he can be as stubborn as a mule."

Hank quickly got to his feet and entered the room to try and keep Connor from hurting himself while he waited for some additional help to arrive. Fortunately, the call button for the nurses was right beside Connor's bed and the nurse's station wasn't far away.

"Kid? Don't do that." Lightly Hank took hold of Connor's hand and pulled it away from the tube to keep Connor from accidentally hurting himself. "You need the tube to help you recover quicker. It's not hurting you; it's helping you."

Connor's eyes partially opened at the sound of Hank's voice. Slowly his glassy irises drifted over to peer up at Hank's face as the man looked down at him with a concerned gaze. For a moment, Connor's brow knit with confusion only for a frightened tear to roll down his face as he realized what was happening to him.

"You're okay." Hank didn't take his hand from Connor's hand as he realized that the younger man was scared and rightfully so. "You got really sick last night, and I had to bring you here. I know you didn't want to go to a hospital, but if I didn't do something then you wouldn't have made it through the night."

A small team of nurses entered the room and assisted Hank with calming Connor down. They made sure Connor didn't hurt his throat or mouth when he began pulling on the tube, and they made sure he didn't pull his I.V. lines loose by mistake. Everyone assisting Connor used gentle strength to ensure the scared detective didn't feel overwhelmed by everything happening around him.

"You just need to rest for a while longer, and as soon as you can be discharged, I'll take you right home and you can stay there for as long as you like."

Dr. Wilson marched into the room and didn't seem the least bit surprised that Connor was trying to pull on the tube. It seemed his remark about being used to treating cops wasn't an exaggeration in the slightest. After checking Connor's vital signs Dr. Wilson opened up a small, locked drawer beside the bed and picked up a glass bottle of medication and opened a syringe from its sterilized packaging. After using the syringe to prepare a dose of the medication, Dr. Wilson inserted the needle of the syringe into the I.V. in Connor's left arm and injected the medication at a steady pace.

"Connor, you're making great progress in your recovery." Dr. Wilson explained as he watched Connor's eyes slowly began to drift shut while his hands and arms lost their strength, going limp with each passing second. "You just need to let the tube breathe for you for a while longer to take the strain off your lungs."

"What was that?" Hank asked as he kept his hand on Connor's hand for the younger detective's sake. "What did you give him?"

"A very mild sedative. It'll let him rest without knocking him out entirely." Astutely Dr. Wilson made additional notes in Connor's charts and gave the responding nurses some new instructions regarding Connor's care. "If his lungs have cleared up within three hours, I'll extubate him and keep him on oxygen through a nasal canula until he wakes up."

"Then can he go home?"

"Normally I'd recommend keeping him here for twenty-four hour observation, but since he's not going to cooperate with me, I'll make an exception to let him go home as long as he has someone to watch over him, but ONLY if he remains stable for twelve hours after extubation and his fever doesn't increase." It was fortunate that Dr. Wilson was a reasonable man and one of logic and care. "And if you're going to be the one watching him, then you'll need to keep him on a strict recovery regimen until his ribs have fully healed."

"Think I could take some of that sedative home so I have some kind of back-up?"

"Sorry, hospital policy is to keep out of feuds between friends." Smoothly Dr. Wilson properly disposed of the used syringe and then gave Hank's shoulder a reassuring pat before exiting the room. "But I will make sure he has the proper medication he needs to comfortably recover at home."

"Swell..."

Along with his friend once more, Hank could only watch as Connor drifted off to sleep and hope that the younger detective wouldn't be too angry with him for the hospital visit. In the Lieutenant's mind, having Connor being alive and pissed at him was better than having Connor dead and mellowed out.

"Maybe after you get better, you'll finally catch a break, kid. You've had a pretty tough life, and good people like you shouldn't have to struggle just to live."

---

Hank Anderson's Residence

It had been a full day since Connor was discharged from the hospital, and the still recovering detective was quietly fuming about being taken to the hospital to begin with. It seemed Connor had decided that since Hank had taken him to a hospital against his will that he couldn't truly trust Hank. The logical part of Connor's brain understood the necessity for the hospital visit and knew that it had happened because Hank cared about him, but the emotional part of Connor's brain was telling him that the man would continue to disrespect his wishes, overstep personal boundaries, and never listen to a word he said. Such a mindset left Connor quieter than usual as he remained buried under his pile of blankets on the couch with only Sumo to keep him company.

Hank on the other hand refused to give up and let Connor put up more walls around himself. He understood that Connor had been through a traumatic childhood and that dealing with CyberLife during his early adulthood years had only added more problems to deal with. While Hank wasn't exactly a glowing example of someone prioritizing their mental health and dealing with repressed emotions appropriately, he was a prime person to help Connor since he knew exactly what he was feeling at the moment.

Showing remarkable patience, Hank carried a bowl of homemade chicken soup on a serving tray into the livingroom and placed it down on the coffee table for Connor's lunch. The bottle of prescription antibiotics were also on the tray with a glass of water for the sick man's convenience.

"It's noon." Hank addressed Connor even as he remained under his blankets. "Time for your medicine, kid."

Connor pushed back the blanket covering his head to reveal his pale face just long enough to take his medicine in one gulp and then return to his blanket cocoon. The silence was loud as Connor held on to his grudge against the older man.

"Glad that stuff took away your coughing." Refusing to let Connor's attitude get under his skin was Hank's best bet in keeping the rookie detective from pushing him away entirely. "That has to make your ribs feel a hell of a lot better."

When Connor didn't respond Hank sighed and walked over to the computer desk to pick up his laptop.

"Look, I know you didn't want to go to the hospital, but I had no other choice. You stopped breathing." Placing the laptop down beside the tray, Hank backed off and gave Connor some room so he could resume his search for his missing brother despite the fact that he was supposed to be resting. "I'd rather have you pissed off at me knowing that you're still alive, then let you die on the couch and be chill with me while you're six feet under."

As much as Connor wanted to argue that Hank had no way of possibly knowing if he would've succumbed to his injuries and illness, he knew that he couldn't. There were too many variables in the equation when it came to what could've happened to try to argue against Hank's comment. It was very plausible that Connor could've died that night due to his illness, as well as his sudden inability to breathe. Even as stubborn as he could be, Connor simply couldn't defy death.

Slowly Connor pulled down the blanket covering his face while Hank made his way back into the kitchen. The older man wasn't going to back down or let Connor push him aside when the rookie detective needed some help. The laptop and the lunch on the coffee table before him helped to remind Connor that Hank was being sincere when he stated that he just wanted to help out. It was the first time in Connor's life that he could ever recall anyone helping him without any ulterior motive being behind the assistance.

Sumo grumbled as Connor moved around and watched over the sick man attentively. Lifting up his head, Sumo watched as Connor awkwardly sat himself upright on the couch to avoid straining his fractured ribs, then immediately returned his chin to the man's lap. All it took for him looking up at Connor with his big brown eyes to get Connor to gently rub his ears then run his hand down the length of his back.

Connor understood that he had the right to be angry at Hank for going against his wishes, but he didn't have the right to hold grudges when Hank did save his life and only did what was absolutely necessary to save his life. It was strange to be fully in charge of his own emotions and decisions without someone else telling him what to do or how to feel, and now he wasn't quite sure if he was doing anything right anymore.

"I wasn't able to make much headway on your search for Lucas." Hank stated rather bluntly as he returned to the livingroom with a second glass of water to place down on the coffee table. "But I made sure I didn't delete anything by mistake. Also, Joel said that your special glasses and glove avoided any water damage when you went into the lake, so I left 'em in the laundry room with the rest of your uniform."

Even when Connor was being cold and distant Hank continued to remark warm and friendly. Such kindness prompted Connor to finally break his silence and acknowledge everything that Hank was doing for him without being asked of asking for anything in return.

"...Lieutenant?" The lingering hoarseness in his voice was hard to ignore. Connor cleared his throat and waited for Hank to look his way again. "Thanks for helping me. I... I'm not used to... A lot, actually."

"Yeah?"

"Specifically, I'm not used to getting... help."

"Trust me, kid. I've noticed." With a truce finally being reached Hank joined Connor on the couch after scooching Sumo a little closer to the rookie detective to make some room for himself. "That's something that you and I have in common. Maybe if we keep helping each other, then we'll be able to ask other people for help whenever we might need it in the future. You know, practice makes perfect and all that shit."

"...Maybe."

"I also want you to know that I'm sorry."

"Sorry?" An apology was the last thing that Connor was expecting to receive from Hank in any capacity. "Why are you sorry?"

"Back at the hospital, when you woke up for the first time and started pulling on the tube in your throat, I was in the room with you. You were scared, kid." As he spoke Hank felt Connor shrink down a little where he was sitting as if trying to disappear into himself. "I just wanted you to get some medical attention, but I didn't want you to be scared in the process. Your reluctance to go to the hospital doesn't come from pride, it comes from a personal fear. Someone hurt you, that much I know, and I'm willing to bet that it was a doctor or someone else in some kind of medical facility."

Connor fell quiet again as he picked up the glass of water and held it between his hands. There was a notable pattern of ripples on the surface of the water that came from Connor's body trembling in masked fear.

"Well, am I on the right track?"

"...I wouldn't bet against you."

"Ah, man. You can't remember your childhood, but you still have fears that came from past experiences fresh in your mind." As a seasoned detective, Hank knew what a troubled, traumatized person looked like at a single glance. "Have you tried talking to-"

"Therapists have been unsuccessful in helping me regain my memories." Connor knew exactly where Hank was going and cut him off just before a small cough cut off his own words. "I've... tried before."

"You did?" Careful not to press too hard Hank did his best to keep Connor talking. "When? How?"

"In secret. When Lucas disappeared from CyberLife, I decided that the best thing I could do to try and find him and ensure that no one else could hurt him was by finding a way to help myself." That was a secret that Connor hadn't shared with a single person until that day. "It... It didn't work."

"Good to hear you know that helping yourself is the first step to helping your brother find his way back to you. How did you keep that hidden away from CyberLife?"

"I went to the therapy sessions under the guise of studying android technology at the University of Detroit Mercy. I could study in plain sight since I was fresh out of high school and could blend right in with the other students." Connor let out a small breath as he pressed his palm to the center of his chest. Pain flare-ups weren't uncommon but aggravating all the same. "I used an alias at the therapy sessions to ensure my tracks remained covered."

"Smart move." Leaning back against the couch cushions Hank patted Sumo's back and glanced at the laptop screen showing their current progress in tracking down Lucas and where he had potentially gone courtesy of CyberLife. The decrypted files still needed to be searched through, and that would take a lot of time to accomplish without CyberLife's terminals. "Why don't you get some more sleep, then we'll start fresh with our search for your brother. There's still a lot of files to go through."

"Actually," putting the water glass aside Connor slowly picked up the bowl and soup and tried to eat his lunch without any protests or arguments from Hank. "I think I'd like to eat something first. Then we can resume the search."

"That's an even better plan." For once Hank didn't have to force Connor to eat something, and he took that as a small, personal victory. With a little more time and a lot of patience there was a good chance that the two detectives would become friends and not just partners. "The sooner you get better, the soon we can take our search out to the streets and really start tracking him down in person."

"Yes..." The warm soup felt good on his sore throat and actually gave him a sense of comfort for a reason he couldn't explain. "That'll be the most efficient way to finally locate Lucas. I need to know what happened to him, and why he's vanished from my life."

-next chapter-