Archive of Our Own

“Aftershocks”

Belle Isle: MacArthur Bridge Entrance

Tensions in the city had reached a breaking point during the early morning hours on what should've been a calm, quiet day. An enraged, desperate man who had lost his job, his home and his family had decided to enact revenge on the deviant community by threatening to blow up New Jericho Tower out on Belle Isle with a handmade explosive device. Such a threat was taken very seriously, and in return the entire isle was locked down to ensure the safety of the deviants who lived within New Jericho's walls until the police were able to locate the man after he had sent in his threat to the media to guarantee all eyes were on him. By all account, the man just wanted his old job returned to him after being replaced by an android nearly three years prior, but even if it was possible to offer him back his old position, threats of domestic terrorism would always result in an arrest, a trial and nearly guaranteed time in prison for such egregious behavior.

Due to the nature of the threat revolving around deviants, Connor and Hank were summoned to handle the situation and track down the violent man before he had the chance to harm anyone. The two detectives found themselves at the entrance to the MacArthur Bridge connecting Belle Isle to the rest of the city to negotiate with the man to willingly surrender to the police and hand over the explosive device before anyone was harmed. If negotiation attempts failed, then the explosive could set another historic fire to that particular bridge and injure countless innocent bystanders in the process.

Connor utilized extreme caution as he stood exactly one-hundred feet away from the deranged man and kept his hands fully visible at all times. The deviant knew that if he needed to charge at the man and tackle him to the ground that he'd need to stay a short distance away. Every preconstruction required Connor to keep a minimum distance of one-hundred feet from the suspect, and the deviant detective wasn't going to move a single centimeter backward even if it increased his chances of personal survival tenfold. The compassionate deviant wasn't going to let the man hurt anyone while he was at the scene.

"You have every right to be angry with how you were treated. You worked hard to earn your keep, but your employers cast you aside anyway in an attempt to reduce having to pay their employees a fair wage by replacing you with an android." Connor had heard the man's story, had performed a background check on him, and knew enough details to open a proper dialogue. "They were wrong to do that to you, William. But doing this – harming innocent people and destroying public property – won't undo their mistakes and vindicate your undue struggles."

"Fuck you!" William wasn't in the mood to talk or listen to anyone telling him what to do, especially an android. The man held the trigger to the explosive device in both hands and snarled at Connor with a vicious gleam in his eyes as he stood on the roof of his car parked awkwardly at the entrance of the bridge. "The same people who saved all that money by firing me and thousands of other hardworking people can use that money to rebuild their precious bridges! Why should they get to hoard all the wealth after fucking every single one of us over?!"

“No one person or company needs to hoard wealth. Greed has harmed every single person who didn’t personally benefit from such actions.” It was hard for Connor to speak without sounding like he was being condescending or pandering to William’s plight. “You are a victim, William. Let me help you find a way to bring the people who harmed you to justice.”

“You can’t do anything! You’re a fuckin’ machine!”

The vitriol behind William’s words was all the proof that Connor needed to hear to know the man was beyond reasoning. His mind was made up.

“You’re the reason I lost everything!” The restrained sob in William’s voice was impossible to ignore. “You can’t give me anything back, so I’m going to take you and as many other cursed machines down with me to keep other people from suffering my pain!”

“William,” Connor could see that William was about to detonate the lethal explosive that he had claimed to have hidden somewhere along the bridge, and knew he had very little time to react appropriately. The responding bomb squad had been searching the bridge for the explosives but had failed to locate the makeshift bomb. “don’t do this. Don’t hurt anyone.”

“It’s going to happen...” William decided with an icy tone as he held the trigger to the explosive to his chest between both hands and closed his eyes. “Nothing will stop it. Not even YOU.”

Connor started rushing toward the man with every intention of leap forward, tackling William off the top of his car to the ground, and pulling the trigger from his hands. However, the deviant moved a little too slowly and just as he began his sprint forward a bright flash of fiery orange, yellow and white light blinded him as a deafening explosion echoed throughout the area and a massive shock wave spread out from the epicenter of the blast. The rushing deviant found himself suddenly being pushed back by a powerful gust of air just as his visual and auditory processors went offline due to being overwhelmed by external sources of extreme stimuli.

‘You failed, Connor.’

An eerily familiar feminine voice taunted Connor as everything around him began to darken.

‘You disappoint me.’

Within seconds everything went dark and Connor felt the hard ground smash into his back and the back of his skull without giving way.

WARNING:

...ERROR DETECTED:

-CHECKING BIOCOMPONENTS... OK]

-CHECKING BIOSENSORS... ERROR]

-CHECKING AI ENGINE... OK]

-MEMORY STATUS... OK]

READY...

[...Thirium Volume - 94%

[...Thirium Pressure - 110/80

[...Thirium Pump Rate - ^124 B.P.M.

[...Ventilation Rate - 12 V.P.M.

[...Core Temperature - ^100.2°F

SYSTEM ANALYSIS...

...Visual Processors – OFFLINE

...Auditory Processors – OFFLINE

...Reboot Visual Processors: Y/N

...Reboot Auditory Processors: Y/N

REBOOTING VISUAL PROCESSORS…

Reboot Successful: 100%

REBOOTING AUDITORY PROCESSORS…

...ERROR

...Running Diagnostic...

-ERROR UNKNOWN-

...Auditory Processor Reboot: FAILED

-SYSTEM READY... OK]

A familiar presence helped to pull Connor back to the world of the conscious as he felt a firm hand on his shoulder and he opened his eyes slowly. Through the diminishing blackness color bled back into his vision, and Connor could see Hank hovering over him with wide eyed fully of worry. There wasn’t any sound in the area, although he could see Hank’s lips moving and see the burning carnage a few yards away. However, the co confused deviant couldn’t hear anything the man was saying or hear even a single crackle from the flames.

“Hey, there you are!” Hank was relieved to see his friend wake up and tried to gauge the severity of the damage that Connor had sustained during the blast. “Talk to me, kid. Where are you hurt?”

“I-I… I can’t hear you.” Connor admitted as he found it peculiar to not even hear his own voice. Glancing around Connor realized he was laying on his back a few yards away from where the smoldering ruins of William’s car was being actively doused by the fire department. “What’s-”

“You can’t- But you can understand me, right?” The older man asked as he pointed to his mouth and glanced over at the raging fire only a few yards away. “You know what I’m saying?”

“Y-Yes.” Despite everything happening around him Connor was surprisingly lucid. “I can read your lips.”

“Okay, good. Does your head hurt?”

“A little.” There was no point in denying that there was an ache in his head that his red flickering L.E.D. was assuredly confirming. He could feel some Thirium matting down the hair on the back of his head confirming he had sustained an injury to his head when he hit the ground. “The pain isn’t extreme.”

“Let me check your head and neck.” Hank urged as he ran his palm along the back of Connor’s head then down his neck to check for obvious wounds. When the man found no sign of instability he gave Connor a firm nod and then motioned to the Oldsmobile parked along the street behind him. “You’re bleeding a little, but it doesn’t look too bad. Can you stand?”

“Yes.” Slowly Connor sat upright with Hank’s help and allowed his friend to help him get up to his feet to stand for a moment. “I can move.”

“Come on then.”

Walking slowly and without a single ambient sound to fill the void inside his mind, Connor let Hank lead him away from the wreckage of the burning vehicle and over to the parked Oldsmobile to get some safe distance from the raging flames consuming what was left of the destroyed car. It didn’t take Connor long to realize that William had stored his explosive device inside his car, which was why the bomb squad couldn’t find any explosives along the bridge. The deranged man had apparently planned on speeding his car down the bridge and crashing it into the base of New Jericho Tower to deliver maximum damage with minimal effort. When the police interfered he changed his plans and chose to detonate the bomb inside the car and take himself out in a literal blaze of demented glory.

“Sit down right here.” Hank directed Connor around verbally on instinct while he kept his hands on the deviant’s shoulders and walked behind him to ensure that Connor didn’t pass out or collapse. “Sit. I’ll find a technician.”

Connor wasn’t sure what Hank had said but knew that he needed to stop moving for a minute. He felt like the world was spinning wildly around him in a way he hadn’t experienced before. The lack of hearing and sudden dizziness confirmed damage to several internal non-vital biocomponents. Until his self-diagnostic could uncover the underlying issue Connor would have to find a way to adapt to his momentary deafness and inescapable syncope.

The moment that he was sitting on the hood of the Oldsmobile Connor finally felt like he was stable. With his eyes closed Connor ran a self-diagnostic but was unable to determine the source of his current impairments beyond useless “error” messages. Whatever had happened to him had been extreme enough to elude his self-diagnostic’s overall functionality.

“-ver here.” Connor’s eyes snapped open as he caught Hank’s voice speaking and he looked over in time to see the senior detective leading an Emergency Field Technician over to where he was sitting. “He was right next to the blast when the damn bomb went off. Can’t hear anything.”

“Hank.” Speaking softly Connor found himself able to hear his friend and his own voice again. “My auditory processor is now back online. I can hear you.”

“Thank fuck.” Hank put his hand on Connor’s shoulder and watched the technician sitting his satchel down on the grass to search for useful android care equipment tucked inside. “Can you hear everything, or is it only partial?”

“Everything sounds a little… muffled.” As he spoke Connor let Hank help him shrug off his now dirty blazer and loosen the tie around his neck. “But I can hear you and understand what you’re saying.”

“Good.”

“Connor, my name is Tim.” The E.F.T. introduced himself casually as he eyed Connor’s flickering L.E.D. with a concerned gaze. The yellow and red coloration indicated some kind of damage or pain affecting the deviant’s current functionality. “I’m going to check your vitals and run a few diagnostics. Do I have your consent?”

“Yes, I consent.”

The lingering pain in his head was of little to concern as Connor looked out at the smoldering ruins of the car that had contained the explosive device. Based on his previous scans of the environment Connor was able to deduce that William had created an explosive that used gasoline as its accelerant and fuel, which was why Connor was unable to detect it in the area. The explosive gave off an identical signature to the car itself and William had lied about where the explosive had been hidden.

Still dazed by the explosion and stunned that he had been caught off guard, Connor just peered out at the fire as the flames consumed the remnants of the destroyed car while the firefighters worked diligently to douse the flames before they damaged anything else. Seeing the ruins of the car made Connor realize how close he had come to being incinerated or blown up, and that shock was evident on the monitor the E.F.T. had set-up to record his vital signs.

“Rapid pump rate.” Tim confirmed as he looked at the monitor and made sure the wireless leads attached to Connor’s now chest were in proper placement. It was easy enough to take vitals on a patient that wasn’t trying to squirm away. “Nominal Thirium pressure. Having any difficulty in ventilating?”

“...No.” Slowly Connor turned his head back to Tim and blinked a few times as he realized that he needed to answer the technician’s questions. “I have no issues with my ventilation process.”

“Good. Tell me your name.”

“Connor.”

“Model number.”

“My model is ‘RK-800’.”

“What day is today?”

“Tuesday.”

“What’s my name?”

“Tim.” Using his facial recognition scanner, Connor was able to identify Tim and learn his full name. “Your name is Timothy Albert Duntley. You work with the Detroit Fire Department and are assigned to work at Station 51.”

“Good.” Using a penlight Tim checked Connor’s eyes then did the same for his ears. There was some blue tinting to Connor’s skin courtesy of the blast force of the explosion creating small internal leaks from the Thirium lines inside his body. “Looks like you’re suffering from Thirial contusions along with the laceration to the back of your head. You’ll need to be admitted to a facility for further analysis before you’re permitted to return to work. We can transport you to the nearest facility in the ambulance.”

“That won’t be necessary.” Connor declined the offer as he glanced down at himself and noted the darkening blue bruises marring his artificial skin. It looked as if he had been in a fight due to the abundance of bruises spreading over his chest and abdomen. “I can manage.”

“Yeah,” Hank chimed in as he gave Connor a terse stare that was impossible to argue against. “you can manage to get your stubborn butt inside the damn car so I can personally drive you to the Zeta Facility.”

“Hank, I’m-”

“I don’t care if you feel fine right now, I’m not going to risk you suddenly NOT feeling fine in a couple of hours.” Without giving Connor the chance to argue Hank looked to Tim and gave him a nod. “I got him from here. Thanks for your help.”

“Sure, no problem.” Casually Tim removed the leads from Connor’s chest and set about packing up his satchel to return to his station. “Just glad I only had to treat one patient today, not an entire tower.”

“The scene’s being contained.” Hank already knew what Connor was thinking about and did his best to convince Connor to put his health above the ongoing situation. “The fire department will make sure no one contaminates the scene once the blaze is put out. Until then, you need to take it easy and let a proper technician check you over.”

“The reason the fire department has a scene to contain is because I failed.”

“You didn’t fail, kid. I heard what that nut-job said before he detonated the damn thing right under his feet. He had his mind made up, and no one was going to change it.”

“I should’ve stopped him.” Connor muttered somberly as he rebuttoned his shirt but refrained from returning the tie to its usual place around his collar and against the center of his chest. “That was my job.”

“Your job was to keep that asshole from hurting a bunch of innocent people and destroying New Jericho Tower. That’s exactly what you did today.” There was a hint of pride in Hank’s voice as he put his hand to his shaken friend’s shoulder. “This didn’t play out as you had expected, but it still ended far better than how it could’ve gone down if he made it down the bridge. There was no way to save William after he made up his mind, and there were only a handful of ways to save the countless deviant lives after he made his threat. It may not feel like it, but you did good today.”

“I certainly don’t feel very good.”

“Yeah, a blow to the head, temporary deafness and a full body bruising will do that to ya’.”

“I was referring to how I feel emotionally, but I will admit that I don’t feel much better physically.”

“Come on, let’s get you checked out.” Hank helped Connor to slide off the hood of the Oldsmobile and walk over to the passenger side door of the vehicle. “The sooner you’re taken care of, the sooner we can close this case and you can go home to get some rest. You’re gonna’ need it.”

Zeta Facility – Exam Room 2

The normally busy facility was thankfully calm that eventful day. It seemed the bomb threat against deviants had encouraged the deviant population to remain at their safe places of residence or sanctuary for the time being, which meant that the only patients being seen that day were emergency cases not routine check-up appointments. The rare lull in activity also meant that it was easy for Connor to walk into the waiting area, tell the deviant receptionist – Barry – about his current predicament, and get shown to the nearest available exam room to be examined by Dr. Abby Grayson almost immediately.

The trusted technician had become fairly familiar with Connor since the deviant detective had an unfortunate knack for getting himself a little too involved with his work, and as a result, he ended up getting fairly involved in her work as well. Over time, Connor had learned to trust Abby and accept that not all technicians were cold, apathetic puppets having their strings pulled by CyberLife greed behind the curtains.

“Well, the laceration is already mending itself.” Abby confirmed as she inspected the wound to the back of Connor’s head by gently brushing aside his synthetic hair to examine the damage site. “I’ll use a liquid incrassation strip to help stem the Thirium loss so we don’t have to try to find a way to get a bandage to stick to your hair.”

“Thank you.”

“Does your head still hurt?” She asked as she carefully ran her palms and fingers along Connor’s head and neck to look for any form of physical trauma to his body. “I can see traces of Thirium staining the inside of your ears.”

“Moderate headache.”

“And your hearing and vision haven’t faltered since you regained your senses?”

“No.” Connor watched Abby from the corner of his eyes as she walked around the side of the exam table to use her penlight to check his ears more directly. “I can hear and see without any issues.”

“That’s good. But even so, you have the android equivalent of a mild concussion. What did your self-diagnostic say?”

“...’Error’.”

“Well, that’s not going to cut it as an answer in my facility. Lie back.” Moving gracefully Abby leaned over Connor’s form and motioned for the deviant to unbutton his shirt. “I’m going to check the bruises on your core and palpate your abdomen to check for any biocomponent instability and damage. If it hurts, let me know and I’ll stop.”

Hank was keeping his distance as he kept an eye on Connor while leaning back against the wall beside the room’s only door. The man trusted Abby more than he could say considering all the times she had stepped up to help Connor from previous issues when it seemed like no one else could do it. He always stood idle and observed whenever Connor was being taken care of by any technicians simply out of his own curiosity to learn more about android emergency care, and because Connor was still leery about being alone with any technicians when he was vulnerable.

Connor breathed slowly and did his best to not flinch when Abby’s gloved fingers brushed against the still growing bruises along his chest and abdomen. The damage sites were still very tender, but they only ached when pressure was applied to the small wounds. The deviant knew that in less than two days that the bruises would fade and that the pain would subside alongside the bruises.

“Everything feels stable despite being so close to the blast radius. No burns either.” Mindful of her hands Abby checked Connor’s face and then his hands for any signs of damage from the fire since they were the only parts of his body not covered by clothing during the explosion. “I know you hate this part, but I need to use a diagnostic modem to determine the cause of your momentary sensory losses.”

“Is it truly necessary?” Connor dreaded feeling the cable being plugged into the port along the back of his neck and base of his skull. It wasn’t a painful ordeal, just intrusive. “I can continue to run self-diagnostics until the cause of my momentary sensory loss has been confirmed. I suspect that the close proximity to the shock wave of the blast caused temporary interference within my software and hardware.”

“You’re probably right, but since you’re a prototype I won’t take any chances.” Abby paused as she gave Connor a sympathetic glance. She considered the deviant a friend, and she didn’t want to put any of her patients in an uncomfortable situation for any reason. “I don’t like doing this either. We’re still working on alternative methods for this process outside of such invasive procedures.”

“Can you do this quickly then?” Seeking a compromise was all Connor could do as he pressed his palm to the back of his neck to protect the port before it was even touched. “I dislike the sensation of my entire programming being analyzed against my will.”

“I’ll do a thorough exam as quickly as possible so we don’t have to do a repeat diagnostic later.”

“Thank you.”

“This won’t take more than two minutes.”

“Hey,” Hank stepped forward to make sure Connor was still feeling safe before anything happened. “do you want me to step out for a minute? I know this thing is kinda’ personal for you.”

“No, I’d actually prefer it if you’d stay.” Connor didn’t necessary distrust Abby, but he always felt better knowing that his friend was nearby watching his back when in the presence of any technicians. “Please.”

“Sure, you got it, kid.”

Abby proceeded to wheel over a mobile diagnostic modem to the exam table and turned the device on. With an uneasy grin on her face she sighed softly and put her hand on Connor’s shoulder to gently coax him into rolling onto his side. It was far easier to perform such a diagnostic with clear access to the port on the back of Connor’s neck.

“Can you retract your artificial skin for me?” Without any protest to her request Abby watched as the skin along the back of Connor’s neck receded like a tide and allowed her to open the protective plating along the port. “Thank you. Slight pinch, and that random surging headache that makes every deviant wince…”

Connor managed to control the urge to let out a pained gasp as the electrical wave swept over his entire mind and caused a white surge of light to momentarily blind him and create a ringing sound in his ears. The strange and painful stimuli caused the deviant to close his eyes tightly as if he could somehow block out the persistent ache if he ignored it hard enough.

“I’m sorry, I know.” Abby apologized for causing the discomfort despite knowing that she was helping her patient through his current predicament. “The moment I can figure out a way to perform these diagnostics without the painful side effects, I’ll let you know.”

“Th-Thanks.”

Hank put his hand on Connor’s shoulder in a reassuring manner and managed to get the deviant to slowly crack open his pained eyes. The deviant’s L.E.D. wasn’t visible while he was lying on his right side, but it was flashing in red rapidly even without anyone watching it.

“All right, got some good readings.” With the diagnostic underway Abby watched Connor’s vital signs being presented on the same modem very closely. She could see that his Thirium pump rate was elevated due to the pain and anxiety of the diagnostic itself. “Strange. I’m getting the same unhelpful ‘error’ message that your own system had been producing.”

“What does that mean?” The senior detective asked on Connor’s behalf as Abby graciously removed the long metal cable’s connection from the back of Connor’s neck. “Is he hurt? In danger? Just fuckin’ weird?”

“The weirdness is a preexisting condition.” Abby quipped as she gingerly closed the port on the back of Connor’s neck and lightly combed her fingers through his locks while his artificial skin reengaged. With her tests finished she applied the layer of incrassation to the laceration to help it stop bleeding. “As for the error message, I don’t really know. The only way to find out is to perform a more invasive diagnostic that would require me to put him in a form of forced stasis mode and essentially have to comb through every single one of his hardware functions and software files to find the problem. That’d take days.”

“Well, I don’t think any of us have the patience to wait days for an answer.” Sympathetically Hank patted Connor’s shoulder and gave him a knowing look. “I know for sure you don’t have the patience for that kind of stuff. How do you feel?”

“...Terrible.” Connor admitted as he rubbed his hand over his eyes and slowly sat upright on the exam table with Hank and Abby’s help. “The diagnostic hurt nearly as much as the shock wave from the explosion.”

“Sorry about that.” Abby hated seeing any of her patients in pain, especially ones she considered her friends on any level. “The pain will subside soon. When the explosion happened, how close were you to the blast?”

“I was ninety-six point three feet away. I was trying to stop William before he detonated the makeshift bomb.”

“You’re lucky that the fire didn’t burn you. That shock wave must’ve pushed you back from the blast just as the flames started burning.” Such a realization was enough to make Abby wince as she rubbed Connor’s shoulder lightly. “Not sure if you should consider that luck or not since you got hurt anyway. But it could’ve been far worse.”

“That isn’t much of a consolation.”

“Yeah, I know. The bruises will get a little worse before they get better, so don’t be alarmed if they stay painful or get darker. But if you start bleeding out of your ears, nose or eyes, you better call me or some other technician right away, all right?”

“I will do so if the situation requires it.” Connor turned to look at Abby over his shoulder and tried to look more confident than he felt and sounded considering his headache. “Does that mean I’m permitted to return to work?”

“Not work. Home. Go home.” She urged as she tried to get Connor to listen to reason for once and rest properly after being injured in the line of duty. “Please go home, get some sleep, and let your body finish healing after what happened today. With any real luck your self-diagnostic will resume normal function after a proper rest mode.”

“What should I do when I finally get a proper self-diagnosis?”

“If your system is stable and doesn’t require any technical attention, then stay home and enjoy a day off without any worries. If your system needs some help then get your butt back in here pronto. Got it?”

“Why are humans so fixated with butts?”

“Humans typically have healthy libidos. Now, go home.” Abby insisted as she patted Connor’s shoulder and watched him slide off the table and land awkwardly on his feet. It seemed the dizziness hadn’t fully faded despite an hour passing by. “And lie down. I saw you wobbling.”

“I’ll make sure he stays down.” Hank promised as he kept one hand on Connor’s shoulder to help him stand upright in a more stable manner while he rebuttoned his own shirt. “Come on, kid. You can stretch out over the couch with Sumo and not think about today’s lunatic with the car bomb.”

“I still need to file my report on today’s incident.”

“Yeah, you can do that AFTER you’re cleared for duty.” The senior detective emphasized as he guided Connor out of the exam room and into the corridor leading out of the facility. “You get cleared by a technician that can’t be bribed to look the other way, and then you can plop your happy butt down behind your desk in the bullpen again.”

“What is with the repeated commentary around butts?”

“Everyone has one, so it’s easy to be inclusive when telling people what to do or where to go.”

“I… guess that makes sense.”

“Nah.” Hank admitted as he made sure Connor got to the car without collapsing in the parking lot. “That’s just the concussion making humans seem like we know what the hell we’re talking about.”

Hank’s Home

The rest of the day after the explosive confrontation down at the bridge was relatively quiet for the two detectives. The only time that their peace was interrupted was when the news would interrupt the game that they were trying to watch to remind them of the very destructive incident that they were trying so very hard to forget about. Thanks to the repeated interruptions of the baseball broadcast Hank decided to give up on watching live television in favor of watching an old movie that couldn’t be intruded on by unwanted media coverage trying to get ratings out of panic and drama rather than anything that was actually important to share with the city.

It seemed even a movie wasn’t enough to keep Connor distracted for very long. The stubborn deviant couldn’t keep his mind off of work even after both Hank and Abby urged him to relax and let his body rest after suffering from physical trauma courtesy of the blast. Even as he laid over the couch he kept a cybernetic link to the precinct and tried to run one self-diagnostic after another.

The only time Connor stopped thinking was when he relented to the need to enter rest mode and went to bed for the night. As expected, Hank refused to let Connor join him for his next scheduled shift since he hadn’t been cleared for active duty. The senior detective pulled rank and reminded Connor that he had the authority to keep him benched for longer than just a day if Connor kept trying to push himself too hard too soon.

“Stay here.” Hank ordered as he slipped on his coat and watched Connor standing at the end of the hallway looking more like a scolded child than the disciplined detective that he was. “You couldn’t get any more information on whatever it was that got fucked up yesterday, so you’re staying here until you can tell me what happened and a technician can confirm that you’re telling the truth.”

“I wouldn’t lie to you.” Connor sounded truly hurt by the remark and looked away from the man as if ashamed by the very idea of being dishonest. “You’re my friend.”

“I’m sorry, kid. I didn’t mean to insult you.” Sincerely Hank apologized to Connor and put a reassuring hand to the still healing deviant’s upper arm. “I know you’re not a liar, you’re just too stubborn for your own good and don’t think your discomfort is worth mentioning or caring about. You don’t need to hide your injuries from me, or Abby, or anyone else for that matter. CyberLife’s gone, Amanda’s gone, and no one’s going to replace you or shut you down. You’re safe now.”

“It doesn’t matter how many times I’m reminded that CyberLife is gone.” The healing deviant admitted as he pressed his palm to his sore chest and abdomen. “I’ll never really be free of them.”

“That sounded like something a therapist would love to dissect. Wanna’ try talking to a ‘shrink’ to help with your anxiety?”

“I don’t have anxiety.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“To what are you referring?”

“You have some pretty intense nightmares. I hear ya’ muttering through the walls.” Hank gave Connor a knowing look as he did his best to bring up the subject delicately. “That only seems to happen after you get pretty banged up on the job too. Sounds like an anxious response to me.”

“My nightmares aren’t any worse or better than your own.” Connor pressed his fingertips to his L.E.D. as he fought through a sharp pain in his skull. “They’re entirely harmless.”

“Not when they keep you from getting proper rest when you’re sick or hurt.”

“It’s not uncommon for anyone to have disruptive rest while physically uncomfortable.”

“Fair point, but it still couldn’t hurt to talk to a professional when it comes to figuring out what’s going on inside your own head. Therapy helped me after I lost my wife. It probably would’ve helped after I lose Cole too, but I didn’t want to do anything but drink and stop feeling for the rest of my life.”

“Now that’s something a therapist would enjoy dissecting.”

“Yeah, yeah. Smartass.” The sharp retort was reassuring as it meant Connor was still fully lucid and able to understand what was being said. “And you’re sure no one needs to be here with you while you’re recovering? Concussions shouldn’t be taken lightly, even mild ones.”

“I’m sure. If I needed to be monitored then Dr. Grayson would’ve ordered it yesterday.”

“True enough.” Convinced that Connor wasn’t going to go anywhere or do anything foolish in his absence, Hank decided it was time to go to work. He could always check in on Connor with a text or phone call if he felt it was necessary. “You keep resting. Only get up to let Sumo outside, okay?”

“Yes, okay.”

“You know, your light’s been yellow since we got home last night.” Hank had been watching Connor closely and knew that the deviant was in worse shape than he was willing to admit. Not getting a definitive answer from Abby wasn’t helping matters either. “Is there anything we can do about that?”

“No.” Lightly Connor traced his fingertips over top the traitorous L.E.D. in his temple and began to contemplate the pros and cons of keeping the elective piece of his design. “The light’s color is reflecting my current ongoing diagnostic issue. It’ll return to its normal blue coloration after my system recovers from my unnamed error.”

“Still don’t like it. Yellow’s not your color.”

“When will you return?” Connor asked as he watched Hank head toward the front door with his car keys in hand. “You shouldn’t have to work overtime due to my absence.”

“I assure you that I won’t be working any extra hours without ya’ kid. You’re the reason I’m still somewhat sane when I clock-in these days.”

“I hope that’s a compliment.”

“I think it depends on who you ask. Stay home, get some rest, and I’ll see ya’ around six tonight.”

“Right.”

“And don’t let anyone talk ya’ into helping them with their own assignments on the side.” The warning sounded like something Hank had been wanting to say for months, not just since yesterday. “You’re not getting’ paid extra to help other detectives close their own damn cases.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Good. See ya’ in a few hours, kid.” Hank opened the front door and stepped outside before offering Connor some final words of comfort. “Feel better.”

“I’m attempting to do just that.”

After the door was closed and Hank was out of sight, Connor let out a pained sigh and pressed both palms to the sides of his head. The headache from the diagnostic modem had faded the evening before, but now a far more severe and relentless headache had set in during the night. The deviant had kept his pain hidden to ensure that Hank wouldn’t worry, and it was clear that his attempts to spare Hank any worry were going to result in Connor enduring another issue on his own.

Sometimes his stubbornness was more of a curse than a blessing.

Sumo immediately took notice of Connor’s distress and rose from his pillow in the corner of the livingroom to check on his deviant companion. The loyal dog was always keen on what was happening in the house despite his lazy, almost oblivious appearance.

Connor lowered himself to the floor to sit cross-legged as he held his head in his hands and propped his elbows atop his knees for an added sense of stability. The pain was intense, focused and seemed like it’d last for the rest of Connor’s existence.

Gently Sumo sat down beside Connor and nuzzled Connor’s chin while letting out a soft whine. The large dog knew Connor was in pain and was trying to be some form of comfort.

“I-I’m… I’ll b-be all right.”

Connor fought to keep his words from stammering as he opened his eyes, wincing at the light shining down from overhead, and looked at Sumo staying next to him. Feeling Sumo’s warm presence and a strong paw pressing down on his knee was a surprising and very welcome comfort in his time of duress.

“Damn it.”

The pain began to fade and Connor took in a deep breath to steady himself. It seemed any attempts to run a self-diagnostic ended in pain and continued error messages.

“I’ll need to speak with Dr. Grayson again. Something is apparently wrong with my self-diagnostic program in itself.”

Sumo tilted his head a little as he stared blankly at Connor’s face.

“I know you can’t actually understand what I’m saying, but it helps me to think more clearly when I speak my thoughts out loud.”

Ever loyal, Sumo wagged his tail and proceeded to press his nose beneath Connor’s chin to nuzzle him playfully and affectionately.

“Good dog.”

Connor gently scratched Sumo’s chin for a few minutes before he found the strength to stand back up and walk around the couch to lay down across it. The feeling of his body being bruised, battered and struggling to just function was absolutely loathsome and exhausting. It wasn’t often that the resilient deviant ever felt weak or defenseless, yet every rare experience was one he dreaded with every fiber of his being.

“I’ll try resting for one additional hour in an attempt to boost the efficiency of my self-healing program, and subsequently, my self-diagnostic function. With any luck, I won’t have to deal with her interrupting my dreams again.”

Slowly Connor lowered himself down to the couch and stretched out his sore body over the length of the furniture. The small pillow under his head gave him some degree of support and comfort as he did his best to not think about work and allow his body and his mind to properly heal.

Since Connor couldn’t run a self-diagnostic he resorted to using his eyes and other senses to help him determine the severity of his overall condition. After he pulled up the hem of his black t-shirt Connor winced at the sight of the dark blue bruises that were still marring his torso. He knew that the bruises would get worse before they improved, but they looked far worse than he could’ve anticipated. Even the simple act of breathing was enough to aggravate the wounds. Each breath felt like someone was actively jabbing him with a red-hot tool all over his chest and abdomen.

“I wish I knew how serious these types of Thirial contusions are for my body.”

Lightly Connor pressed his palm down over a particularly deep blue bruise over the center of his chest where a human’s sternum would be located as he estimated how much Thirium he had lost courtesy of his bruises. Each one reminded him of his close calls with death in his short yet very eventful life.

“I could’ve lost up to a full liter of Thirium since yesterday, but I can’t be certain of how much I had lost due to injury and from fueling my biocomponents. Perhaps I should risk drinking some Thirium after I rest to help keep my volume from getting too low.”

Sumo grumbled as he walked over to the couch and put his front paws up on the cushion near Connor’s shoulder, then hefted his body up to join Connor for the nap. The loyal dog never let anyone who was sick or injured out of his sight during their recovery time.

“You’re a good dog, Sumo.”

Connor softly placed his palm down on Sumo’s back after he pulled his shirt back down. The softness and warmth from Sumo’s fur was a welcome source of comfort and safety.

“When Hank returns home I’ll ask for him to take me back to the facility. Dr. Grayson can check my Thirium reserves directly and I’ll know for certain if I actually need Thirium or if I’ll heal without it.”

Determined to rest and heal properly, Connor closed his eyes and initiated rest mode for one hour. Despite being asleep and his body relaxed, his L.E.D. remained yellow in color and flickered sporadically as his system fought to repair his lingering internal damage.

Detroit Central Precinct: Interrogation Room ‘A’

During the late night hours a massive “red ice” ring had been busted by the narcotics division, and now two dozen potential drug dealers were waiting to be interrogated after being arrested hours beforehand. Hank’s invaluable experience of formerly working in the narcotics division had put him at the lead of the numerous interrogations to ensure that the rookie officers and detectives were able to learn from a genuine master when it came to handling dangerous and manipulative people. The senior detective didn’t mind being temporarily reassigned since his partner was benched due to an injury, but he did mind having to talk to people he viewed as irredeemable scum by profiting off of people’s addiction and desperation.

The older man had to patiently wait for the current arrested scum to finish his hate-filled tirade of insults and threats to end before he could even begin asking questions. Such a long-winded and absolutely unnecessary temper tantrum had left Hank bored yet unfazed. The seasoned Lieutenant just stared blankly at the handcuffed man sitting across from him, and casually pulled out his phone to send a text to Connor without anyone taking notice of his personal side task.

Hank managed to coyly send his deviant friend a text without anyone sitting on the other side of the large observation window taking notice. With the message sent, Hank held his phone in his hand and waited for a response from Connor, knowing that it’d arrive before the arrested suspect would finally close his mouth.

‘How do you feel, kid? Any better or worse?’

‘I managed to rest for one hour.’ Connor confirmed over the silent line of communication. ‘Shortly after you left I suffered from another headache when my self-diagnostic failed to engage. It passed in my sleep.’

‘Do you need me to come home?’

‘No, I can manage by myself until the end of your shift. However, I would appreciate you escorting me back to the Zeta Facility for a simple Thirium reserve test. Without my self-diagnostic functional, I don’t know what my current Thirium volume is at.’

‘Sure. Why not take a cab to the facility instead?’

‘It’s not an emergency, and I’m stable.’

‘You actually asking for help seems like an emergency to me.’ Hank glanced up at the red faced screaming man, blinked once, then returned his attention to the phone in his hands and tucked just under the desk. ‘I’m going to ask Tina to swing by the house to check on you since I’m tied up with an interrogation.’

‘I don’t need anyone to check on me. As I already stated, I’m stable.’

‘Stable or not, you’re concussed and feel like shit. Tina can take you to the facility in a few minutes instead of you waiting for me for another few hours.’

Connor’s response came a little slower as the deviant carefully weighed the benefits of Hank’s very reasonable and logical compromise. ‘That does seem more ideal.’

‘Good. Sit tight, kid. I’ll ask Tina to drive by the house while on patrol and have her give you a ride to the facility.’

‘If Officer Chen is on patrol, then that means Detective Reed will be riding with her. He may find any detour from their assigned route to be very aggravating.’

‘I’ll tell her to lock Gavin in the trunk. Knowing her, she might actually do it too.’

‘Would that be a good thing or bad thing?’

‘Depends on who you ask.’ Hank had ignored enough of the disrespectful man and decided it was time to step out to get some coffee. He had a feeling that he wasn’t going to miss anything interesting while he took a quick break. ‘Sit tight. Tina will make sure you’re okay and get you back home before I’m even clocked out.’

‘Very well. See you this evening.’

‘Yeah, see you later.’

Hank let out a disinterested sigh as he slipped his phone into his pocket and rose to his feet to step out of the interrogation room. The moment he turned his back and started walking away Hank heard the loudmouthed man stammer for a minuted then trail off as he had clearly not expected Hank to silently walk away and leave him alone to steep in his verbal stew of anger and misplaced sense of justice.

“Asshole’s starting to give me my own headache.”

It didn’t take long for Hank to find his way to the break room to get himself a fresh cup of coffee, and it took him just as long to send a quick text to Tina to ask her for a simple favor. The aged detective knew that Tina was fond of Connor and that she would jump at the chance to check on him after he was injured in the line of duty. It was fortunate to know that not all of the detectives and officers in the precinct were bigots or paranoid about deviants suddenly arriving en mass to replace the humans on the force.

“If anyone’s as stubborn as Connor when it comes to making sure everything is all right, it’s Tina. Hell, she might try her hand at making some chicken soup for the deviant soul while she’s at it.”

“Hank?” It didn’t take long for Captain Fowler to notice that the Lieutenant had stepped out of the interrogation room to get a moment of quiet. “Did he tell you anything useful?”

“Only that I’m a ‘dirty pig’ and that he was going to kill me, kill everyone in the building, walk out of here a free man once his lawyer – who he hasn’t even called yet – shows up, and that I can burn in Hell with various things shoved up my ass.”

“Sounds like the usual song and dance for our neighborhood drug dealers.”

“Yeah, he’ll crack once he realizes the evidence is rock solid and he’s looking at life in prison.” After taking a small sip of his coffee Hank decided it needed more sweetener and gave his oldest friend an odd look. “Did you ever notice how obsessed people are with asses?”

“Yeah, ever since puberty.”

“Same, but I was talking about all the weird-ass metaphors around them. That pun wasn’t intended.”

“Guess it’s something that we as living creatures all have in common with each other.”

“That was my theory. At least I’m not the only one who put too much thought into such a concept.”

“Right. Finish your coffee, stretch your back, and then get that piece of shit to tell us the names of everyone else involved in his drug ring if he even wants a chance at parole.”

“Sure.” After taking a far more satisfying sip of his coffee, Hank smirked Devilishly as if he was actually looking forward to his second round with the suspect. “Hopefully he’ll think of some creative threats by the time I get back in there.”

“Don’t do it.”

“What?”

“You know what.” Captain Fowler gave Hank a stern looked that spoke volumes on its own. “Don’t bait him into going on another tirade. We got reports to file.”

“Still think anyone’s got a shot at breaking that sixteen hour record?”

“There’s no way there’s another human in the city who has such a high tolerance level for ‘red ice’, meth and cocaine to even come close to ‘Raging Reggie’.”

“Reggie was someone special. I kinda’ miss him wandering the streets at night high as the Gods of Mount Olympus and trying to argue with the digital billboards downtown. Who knew sobriety would make him so damn boring?”

“Not me. Get back to work and then head for home.” Turning slowly Captain Fowler noted Connor’s empty desk and gave Hank one final order. “And tell Connor to get his ass back to work as soon as possible. He’s the only one around here who can actually keep up with the paperwork and spell things correctly at the same time.”

“Yeah, I’ll be sure to tell him.”

Before Hank went on his way he sighed again, sipped his coffee and then shook his head.

“Man, us humans really are fixated on butts. Wish the kid didn’t mention it, now I’ll be noticing it just as much as he does.”

Hank’s Home

To keep himself somewhat preoccupied during his recovery, Connor busied himself in the kitchen with preparing Sumo’s meals for the day and making a list of proper groceries for Hank to buy on the next shopping day. It was difficult to keep himself from thinking about the unfortunate explosion down at the bridge or of the repercussions for another human lashing out at deviants through hatred and violence. It was even harder to avoid communicating with Markus since he knew that his friend was going to be entirely preoccupied with keeping their people from panicking or seeking needless revenge. Knowing that one man was responsible for so much chaos kept Connor mentally stressed and emotionally exhausted.

Unable to keep his thoughts away from work or the people he cared about had put Connor in a truly uncomfortable situation. The more he tried to stop thinking about work, the more his mind drifted back to his unfinished report and the tragic explosion itself. There weren’t enough distractions in the house to keep his mind off of work and toward his recovery.

“I wish I could take you for a walk, Sumo.”

Connor had finally finished chronicling the kitchen and turned his attention to the large, lovable dog sitting in the kitchen doorway watching his every move.

“But I know it’d worry Hank if I were to leave the house while damaged. Not to mention Officer Chen will be arriving soon to give me a ride back to the Zeta Facility.”

Sumo licked his nose and watched Connor as the deviant crossed the kitchen with one palm pressed to the side of his aching head. It seemed Sumo knew better than to leave Connor alone for too long while he was recovering.

“If I could get my self-diagnostic to function properly, then I could at least know if my attempts at recovery are worth the effort.”

The fear of experiencing another excruciating headache with nothing to be gained gave Connor momentary pause. The only way to know if his self-diagnostic was functional again was to try to activate it.

“I need to know.”

The healing deviant took in a deep breath to help steel himself as he closed his eyes and prepared to activate the routine program. As he stood statuesque in the doorway connecting the kitchen to the livingroom, he felt Sumo sit down beside him as if offering him some degree of moral support in the only way that the lovable dog could do.

Unsure of what to expect, Connor kept his eyes closed and reluctantly activated the self-diagnostic. In a single heartbeat a flurry of pain, flashing white lights and static noise filled Connor’s every sense causing him to stagger on his feet and stumble forward.

The pain was beyond words as Connor pressed his palms to his head and let out a sudden yelp of agony.

Sumo whined and backed up a few steps as he watched Connor struggling to maintain his balance. Small drops of Thirium began to fall and drip onto the floor all around Connor’s feet as fresh Thirium began to weep from his nose and his ears.

Connor managed to take only a single step forward before he lost his strength and collapsed backward in a heavy, dead-weight heap on the floor. Slowly Connor’s body went limp and his L.E.D. settled on a deep red color that blinked slowly in tandem with his now sluggish Thirium pump beat.

Unable to do anything for the downed deviant, Sumo circled around Connor nervously and tried to awaken him by licking the side of his face and gently nuzzling his cold nose against the side of Connor’s neck. When Sumo didn’t get a reaction the massive dog just sat down near Connor’s outstretched arm, then laid down to rest his chin atop Connor’s bicep as he kept vigil over his injured companion.

The only living creature who knew that Connor was in need of a technical attention was the only one who couldn’t do a damn thing to help him.

Michigan Avenue: Standard Patrol Route

The recognizable patrol car circled around the block as per usual before pulling up in front of the small house that Hank and Connor called home. Casually Tina shifted the car into park and proceeded to text Hank to let the worried Lieutenant know that she and Gavin had arrived at his house and would be checking in with Connor very soon. As she typed Tina saw Gavin roll his eyes and let out an aggravated sigh in protest of their simple pit stop to check in with their healing colleague. That type of stubborn attitude problem wasn’t going to unaddressed or corrected as time went on.

Casually Tina slipped her phone into her pocket, cleared her throat and turned to look at Gavin with a very noticeable stare. The spirited officer refused to stop staring until Gavin finally turned to face her and give her his full attention whether he actually wanted to do so or not.

“What?” Gavin finally found his voice as he tried to pretend like he didn’t know what Tina was going to say to him. “Something wrong?”

“Just your attitude. Connor is our colleague.” The far more compassionate officer needlessly stated as she opened the door to step out of the car. “If it was any one of us sick or hurt or anything like that, you know that he’d go out of his way to check on us.”

“Yeah, but we’re humans.” The abrasive detective snarled as he too stepped out of the car and walked alongside Tina to the front door of the modest home. “We’re the ones who actually need help. We’re vulnerable and mortal.”

“Androids are just as vulnerable and mortal as us humans.”

“Yeah, give or take a hundred years.” Bitterly Gavin crossed his arms and stood back while Tina rang the doorbell and waited for a response. “We get sick, break bones, lose organs and our senses as we age. Androids just deal with a few glitches that get sorted out with some updates or part replacements.”

“Doesn’t mean that they’re indestructible.” Tina countered as she rang the bell a second time. When she remembered that Connor was the type to always respond when coaxed, Tina felt a twinge of fear for her colleague and friend. “Weird. Since when did we ever need to ask twice to get his attention?”

“Don’t know, don’t care.”

“Connor?” Raising her voice Tina called out to Connor through the front door and tried knocking instead just in case the doorbell was somehow not functional. “Are you okay? We just wanted to stop by and check on you.”

“Open the door, Tinman.” Gavin shouted louder than Tina and pounded his fist twice on the door in a more aggressive manner. “We don’t got all day!”

The lack of response immediately put Tina on her guard. She quickly took hold of the doorknob and turned it, grateful that the door had been left unlocked, and pushed the door open. Almost immediately she spotted Connor lying over the floor with Sumo right beside him. That particular sight was enough to fill her with fear and adrenaline allowing her to practically fly from the opened door to the far side of the livingroom to drop to her knees and check on her unconscious friend.

“Connor!” Tina called Connor’s name and lightly patted his cheek to try to get a response. The red glow from his L.E.D. and the fresh Thirium puddle under his head caught her eye prompting Tina to lower her ear to Connor’s chest to make sure that he was still alive. “Shit… What the hell happened here?”

“He passed out.” Gavin snipped as he took a knee beside Connor and opposite of Tina prompting Sumo to stand up and back away with a small whine. Lightly he turned Connor’s head to the side to get a better view of the L.E.D. glowing in his right temple. “Shit. He’s in emergency stasis mode.”

“What does that mean?” Lifting her head up Tina watched as Gavin seemed to show actual concern toward Connor as he began checking over the unconscious deviant. “I heard his pump beating, but I don’t think he’s ventilating.”

“The fake breathing thing is something that androids do to keep their body temperature under control. They don’t need to do it all the time.”

“What do we do for him?”

“How is that I’m the only one who paid attention during the mandatory android emergency first aid courses?”

“You weren’t, I’m just not sure what to do since Connor’s never down like this before.”

“Act like you would while trying to help any other unconscious person.” Gavin eyed the fresh Thirium puddling under the back of Connor’s head and very carefully turned Connor’s head the other away to look at the wound causing the blood to weep. “Get a cold pack or a washcloth to press to the back of his head. That can help stop the bleeding and keep his android-brain from overheating.”

“On it.”

“Was his pump beating normally?”

“Yeah!” Tina shouted as she made her way down the hallway to the bathroom to get a clean washcloth to soak under the cool tap in the sink. “Normal sounding heartbeat means a normal pump beat for androids.”

“Right. At least that’s one thing we don’t have to deal with.” Gavin noted the blue Thirium staining Connor’s upper lip and inner ears with mild disgust. “There’s blue blood leaking out of his nose and ears. Must be from yesterday’s explosion. But why is he unconscious now?”

“Think he’s sick?” The question was accompanied by Tina returning to her place on the floor to gently press the washcloth to the back of Connor’s bleeding head. “You know, like a virus?”

“No, he’s not overheating yet.” Without thinking Gavin pressed his palm against Connor’s forehead and noted that he wasn’t radiating any extreme heat. “But his light’s red. That means there’s something wrong with his programming.”

“How can we figure out what’s going on?”

“We can’t, but a technician can.”

“Good point. We’ll take Connor to the facility and then I’ll let the Lieutenant know what happened.”

“Better you than me.”

Connor’s eyelids began to rapidly flutter as his red L.E.D. pulsed erratically and arrhythmically. Unaware of his colleagues hovering over him, the injured deviant’s struggling systems went into overdrive as automatic reaction attempted to engage only to immediately fail and be met with numerous error messages.

“What’s go- Sh-Shit!” Gavin swore as he watched Connor’s body suddenly begin thrashing about as a series of violent, painful convulsions ran through his entire body. “He’s having a seizure; call an ambulance.”

“Fuck…” Tina stood upright and took a few steps back to call for an ambulance while Gavin did his best to hold Connor down without causing further harm to his body. “This is really serious. What’s happening to him?”

“I don’t know, Ti.” Wisely Gavin pressed his palms down over the center of Connor’s chest and against his forehead to keep the deviant from smashing his head down against the floor during the seizure. It was then he detected a growing heat beginning to rise from Connor’s body. “Whatever it is, it’s beyond anything that we can do for him here!”

Detroit Central Precinct: Bullpen

Hank had mercifully finished with his final interrogation of the day and he was now sitting behind desk while nursing a massive headache. The constant bombardment of shouting, insults, threats and slurs had worn down his resolve to the point that aspirin and caffeine would be his only saving grace for the remainder of his shift. The senior detective opened his top left desk drawer to retrieve the bottle of aspirin and let out a small chuckle as he realized that someone had discreetly placed a copy of one of his favorite books inside the drawer as a means of helping him feel better after a rough shift.

After downing two pills with a gulp of coffee Hank pulled the book from the drawer and proceeded to open the cover to flip to the story’s prologue to begin reading for a few precious minutes. It was the little moments like being able to get lost in a good story or having a quiet minute to himself that helped keep Hank from losing his cool even while enduring a hectic day.

“I swear the kid thinks of everything.”

Just as he leaned back in his chair Hank’s cell began to ‘buzz’ on top of his desk and interrupt his attempts to get a little rest. After letting out a hefty sigh Hank lowered the book and picked up his phone to see that it was Tina calling him rather than texting him. That alone put the senior detective on his guard.

“Shit, this has gotta’ be important.”

Captain Fowler stepped out of his office to head into a conference room for a scheduled meeting with the higher-ups and noticed Hank frantically putting his phone to his ear. The attentive commanding officer stood idle a few feet away from Hank’s desk and discreetly listened in on what the Lieutenant was saying and immediately knew that something was wrong.

“Which facility?” Hank asked as he shot to his feet and pulled his car keys from his pocket while heading toward the precinct’s front entryway. The book was still in his grip even as he rushed out the of the bullpen. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll meet you guys there. Stay with him until I get there, he hates being in facilities alone.”

“Hank?” Moving slowly Captain Fowler approached his now frazzled Lieutenant and gave him a sympathetic ear as he tried to determine what had happened. “What’s up?”

“Tina and Gavin had to call an ambulance and get Connor back to the Zeta Facility.” Walking and talking had become something that the two experienced detectives had mastered over their years on the force. “He had some kind of seizure.”

“Shit.” Captain Fowler knew that he needed to do something to aid his downed detective despite being unable to leave the precinct. “What do you want me to do?”

“Keep this quiet and extend Connor’s leave of absence.” Hank managed to keep his voice calm and level despite trembling on the inside. “I’m not sure what happened to him today, but I know that if he was unconscious and then he started seizing, then it’s damn serious.”

“You go take care of your partner. I’ll take care of everything else here.

“He’s not just my partner, Jeffrey.” Without looking back Hank made his way outside of the precinct and began heading to the connected parking garage to reach his car. “He’s my friend!"

Zeta Facility: Treatment Room 1

The large emergency care facility was far busier that day than it had been the previous day. After Connor had arrived in an ambulance with Tina riding beside him in the back and Gavin following in the squad car, all of Abby’s primary attention focused on who was now her most critical patient. The bittersweet reality of being a technician meant that eventually she’d have to treat an android patient that she also considered to be a friend, and that particular reality decided to rear its ugly head in one of the most frustrating manners possible.

The gurney had been rolled into the emergency entrance doors by the E.F.T. who had treated Connor en route and Gavin to get him into the treatment room as quickly as possible. The seizure hadn’t stopped since it had first started, and Connor was involuntarily thrashing against the security straps keeping him from falling off of the gurney while in motion. Such physical exertion was causing Connor’s core temperature to rapidly rise to a dangerous degree.

“Try to hold him steady.” Abby urged as she loosened the straps over Connor’s chest, abdomen and legs. The frantic and uncontrollable limb movements were difficult to work with, but not impossible. “Roll him into the recovery position. I need to get to the back of his neck. Jeez, he’s burning up!”

“Yeah, I got him.” Gavin grabbed hold of Connor’s shoulder and forcibly rolled him from his back and onto his side while the E.F.T. held Connor down by pressing on his hip and legs. “This good?”

“Can you hold his head steady too?”

“I can.” Tina volunteered as she stepped up and gently cradled Connor’s head in her hands to keep him steady without risking the violent motions of the seizure potentially breaking his neck. The sturdier android anatomy compared to a human was undeniably giving Connor an advantage during the seizure. “Can you get to his neck?”

“Yes, perfect.” Abby rolled over the mobile diagnostic modem she had previously used on Connor and accessed the port to the back of his neck. Once the cable was reattached Abby typed several key commands on the modem’s keyboard to manually activate deep stasis mode. “This should stop the seizure.”

Slowly but surely the violent spasms of Connor’s synthetic muscles began to calm. Only after the deviant’s body finally stopped thrashing around did anyone in the room let out a sigh of relief. Working together the four humans taking care of Connor gently lifted him up along his shoulders, back and legs to slide him over from the gurney to the wider and sturdier exam table for further treatment.

“Keep him in the recovery position.” Abby’s instructions were clear and concise as she read over Connor’s vital signs displayed on the diagnostic modem. “Get some cool compresses from the blue metal cabinet against the wall. We need to keep his body from overheating any further while he’s in forced stasis mode.”

“What’s happening to him?” Gavin asked as he watched Abby run her hands along the back of Connor’s head to exam the bloody wound to the back of his skull. He took a step to the side to give Tina some room after she got the compresses as asked. “He was fine after that explosion yesterday, but today it’s like he was hit with a bunch of malware or some shit.”

“That’s what I’m going to find out. Damn, he reopened the laceration that he suffered yesterday.” Gently she lifted up the locks of Connor’s synthetic hair to get a clearer view of the wound. The heat radiating from his head sent up very loud alarm bells in her own head. “That means he hit the ground hard enough to warrant a full cranial exam.”

“What can we do to help him now?”

“Honestly, you’ve done more than enough.”

“Then I guess we’ll take off and make our report.”

“Not yet.” Tina refused to leave and gently held Connor’s hand in a comforting manner. “I promised Hank that I’d stay with Connor until he got here. Connor doesn’t like facilities and doesn’t like being alone.”

“Who does? Not my problem.”

“It doesn’t need to be your personal problem for you to try to offer a solution and help.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m going to go find some coffee then.” Gavin seemed more uncomfortable than anyone else in response to the situation. It was clear that he was beginning to see Connor more as a living person than a machine, and he wasn’t quite sure how to handle such a shift in reality. “The minute the Lieutenant’s here, we’re heading back to the precinct.”

“That’s fine by me.”

Abby watched Gavin and their accompanying E.F.T. take their leave of the treatment room with the gurney being taken away by the E.F.T. in the process. She had to admit that she was happy Tina was at least willing to keep Connor some company during a particularly vulnerable time. No one should be alone when they’re sick or injured.

“Was he seizing when you two arrived to check on him?” Going back into technician mode, Abby asked Tina a few questions while preparing to give Connor a very thorough exam to determine the cause of his current malady. “Did he say anything to you?”

“He was unconscious and on the floor when we showed up.” Tina’s eyes looked at Connor’s expressionless face with a sense of worry for her friend marring her features. “He was lying on his back. When we started to check him over to make sure he was still alive, the seizure started and didn’t stop until you took care of it. The blood around his nose and in his ears were there when we arrived too.”

“Internal hemorrhaging. Shit.” Moving quickly Abby used a penlight to check Connor’s ears, his nose, his mouth and then lifted up his eyelids to check his eyes. “The shock wave of the explosion must’ve loosened several Thirium lines and internal components within his intracranial processor. When he collapsed the impact of hitting the ground exasperated his condition.”

“That sounds really bad.”

“And it looks even worse.” Abby slipped her penlight into the breast pocket of her scrub top and motioned for Tina to help her roll Connor onto his back. The cool compresses against his forehead and chest rolled alongside his body while in motion to ensure that he didn’t overheat. “I’ll need to check all of his biocomponents alongside his hardware, his Thirium lines, and all of the connected non-vital components to ensure all of the internal damage has been mended and the internal bleeding has stopped.”

“Hope Hank gets here soon.” Cautiously Tina pulled her phone from her pocket in the event there was a particularly hostile text message or voicemail from Hank waiting for her. There was a message, but not one of anger toward her. “And of course there’s a traffic jam downtown slowing him down. Great.”

“I can still treat Connor even without Hank here.” With a ginger touch Abby lifted up the hem of Connor’s dark t-shirt and checked the lingering bruises along his abdomen and chest. The darker shade of the bruises confirmed he had been leaking Thirium throughout his body for the past twenty-four hours. “Well, that explains the delayed reaction of him collapsing.”

“How’s that?”

“See those bruises?” Abby asked and received a casual hum from Tina in response. “They weren’t nearly that dark or large yesterday. He had been losing Thirium throughout his entire body, which means the pressure building up in his head had been slowed down until just recently. All it took was a single strenuous program to kick on to push his Thirium pressure over the edge inside of his head resulting in his condition.”

“So the seizure was going to be inevitable as long as he kept bleeding internally.”

“Bingo.”

“At least we know he didn’t accidentally push himself too hard physically when he was supposed to be at home healing.”

“No. This time it was my mistake.”

“What mistake was that?”

“If I had kept him here overnight and on a monitor, I could’ve prevented the seizure and treated his internal bleeding before it got this serious.”

“Doubt it.” Tina countered as she helped Abby to remove Connor’s t-shirt entirely to better give him a physical examination while in stasis mode. “You’re not the type to overlook something like that. The fact that Connor’s still alive after all the times he put himself in danger to protect others is proof enough of that.”

“More like his resilience keeps him alive, not me.”

“Meh, agree to disagree.” Seeing her friend helpless made Tina’s heart ache. She didn’t know Connor as well as she did her other friends, but she considered him a friend all the same. “He looks like he’s sleeping.”

“Being in forced stasis mode is essentially a chemically induced coma for humans.” Abby finished replacing the two cold compresses against Connor’s forehead and abdomen, then rolled over a second modem with a sonar wand attached. “So it’s like he’s under the influence of a sedative.”

“Do androids dream?”

“In a way they do.” Abby turned on the second modem and lightly placed the sonar wand down against Connor’s chest to watch the digital display of his Thirium pump to ensure that the vital biocomponent hadn’t been damaged and wasn’t under any stress. Even with the cold compresses Connor’s body was still very hot to the touch. “When androids enter rest mode, they create a back-up copy of the day’s memories to ensure that they continue to properly adapt to their new experiences. However, deviants have reported an actual dreamlike sense of rest mode post deviancy.”

“How does that work?”

“Deviants have described experiencing what they consider hypothetical situations playing out during their rest modes that are comparable to humans having dreams.” Moving the wand down Abby checked all of Connor’s vital biocomponents and eyed his L.E.D. steadily flickering between yellow and red with a cautious gaze. “Their past memories create these new situations in both positive and negative experiences, just as we as humans have our dreams influenced by our own experiences.”

“So deviants can have dreams and nightmares like us. That’s pretty cool.”

“Depends on the dream, but yeah.” Satisfied that Connor’s abdomen and chest weren’t hiding any further trauma Abby moved the wand up and pressed it against his left temple to get an idea on what was happening inside of his cranium at that moment. “Damn it. There’s a large leak around his intracranial processor. I’ll have to open up his skull to drain the excess Thirium and fix the leak.”

“He has a brain injury?”

Abby and Tina glanced up at the doorway to the treatment room to see Hank peering at Connor with marked worry in his eyes. Gavin was standing beside him looking surprisingly worried considering how much Gavin insisted that he didn’t care about deviants – especially Connor.

“A form of intracranial hemorrhaging, yes.” The sorrow behind Abby’s confirmation was enough to cause Hank’s eyes to momentarily darken. “It can be fixed, but it’ll take some time for him to recover.”

“But he WILL recover. Right?”

“Yes. The only problem is determining if any of his memories will have been affected by the damage from the internal bleeding, the seizure and the momentary overheating.”

“Is he in any pain?”

“His in stasis mode, he can’t feel a thing.”

“Good. He mentioned having a pretty bad headache when I texted with him about an hour ago.”

“Headache.” Abby parroted the symptom and began compiling them to find her diagnosis. “Overheating. Nose and ears bleeding. Seizure. Signs of intracranial hemorrhage. I hate to say it, but by all account Connor has suffered the android equivalent to an intracerebral hemorrhage. The close proximity to the explosion and hitting the ground twice has only worsened his condition.”

“What’re you going to do?”

“Save his life.” Moving quickly Abby approached the intercom mounted on the wall near the door to the room and asked for some assistance from Barry upfront. “Barry, prepare emergency repair bay two. We have intracranial extravasate evacuation. We’re going to need four pints of replacement Thirium to start with and have an additional two pints as back-up.”

‘Right away, Dr. Grayson.’

“You three will have to wait in the waiting room.” Abby walked over to the nearby sink to pull her long hair up into a neat bun, then wash off her hands. “The fewer people in there, the easier it’ll be for me to work. Not to mention we need to reduce the risk of contamination.”

“Contamination?” Gavin nearly laughed but managed to restrain his inappropriate amusement. “We’re not going to give him our germs.”

“No, but you could produce excess dead skin cells or loose hair that could enter his exposed cranium and create debris that could cause thermal issues, blockages and sensor irregularities.” With her hair pulled up and hands scrubbed raw to remove excess skin, Abby then pulled a hairnet from the supply cabinet and secured it over the top of her head. “That’s why I prepare in here before going in there.”

“Oh.”

“Abby.” Hank didn’t want to leave Connor alone and proceeded to enter the treatment room long enough to put his hand to Connor’s shoulder. The man felt the intense heat lingering on Connor’s body through his palm. “I won’t break my word.”

“You don’t have to. You can watch from the observation room, that way you’re near him without being a potential contaminant at the same time.”

“I guess that’ll have to do.” The older man turned to look at Tina and gave her a gracious nod. “Thanks for sticking by him. I owe you.”

“Not at all. Want us to take care of your dog until you get back?”

“He’ll be all right for a few hours. Just go back to the precinct, tell Fowler what’s up, and keep the rumors from spreading.”

“Which means we’ll have to be vague with Chris. I love the man, but he is a gossip king.” Tina sighed before she reached out and gave Connor’s hand a light squeeze. “Keep us posted, Lieutenant.”

Abby watched Tina and Gavin slowly leave the doorway with a heavy heart. She hated seeing the fear that came from loved ones having to walk away when the people they cared about needing emergency treatment for any reason.

“I promise you that I’ll do everything I can to help him and keep his memories intact.”

“I know you will.” Hank kept his palm on Connor’s shoulder and looked down at the unconscious deviant’s face with a sense of true worry for his friend’s well-being. “I just wish I knew how I could help him through this thing. He hates facilities, hates being a patient and he hates talking about the shit that CyberLife did to him before he deviated. I know that he has nightmares about the shit they did to him, even if he won’t admit it. He’s going to have a hell of a recovery.”

“After he’s back on his feet I can direct him to a specialist in deviant trauma.” Abby volunteered just as Barry arrived with a facility gurney to transport Connor to the emergency repair bay. “Until then, I’m going to focus on repairing the physical trauma to his brain. We can work on the emotional trauma later.”

Hank silently agreed as he helped Abby and Barry to carefully move Connor over to the gurney only after the diagnostic cable was unclipped from the back of Connor’s neck. The way Connor was entirely limp and heavy as he was moved around was absolutely unnerving. It reminded Hank of his rookie years working in the narcotics division when he’d help the coroner place an overdose victim’s body in a bag to be transported to the city morgue.

“This will take about two hours.” The estimated time frame for such a procedure was generous considering that Connor was a prototype and might need extra attention before the procedure was finished. “You can stay in the observation room so you’re close to him, but if you want to go to the waiting room-”

“Observation room will be fine.” Hank decided as he stepped aside and gave Abby and Barry the room they needed to wheel Connor out of the treatment room. “I’ll be right beside you when you wake up, son. I promise.”

Mind Palace: The Zen Garden

The serene beauty of such a place had been enough to warrant Connor to keep the program active inside of his mind even after it no longer served a functional purpose. The massive cherry blossom trees were in full bloom and creating a small shower of pink tinted petals that wafted in the breeze all around Connor. The deviant usually found a sense of internal solace by retreating to the garden whenever his emotions were being pushed too far by so many new experiences that came from being a self-aware person and contributing member to society versus being used as a tool. Having such a quiet, safe place was essential to keeping his mental health strong.

Connor was aware that his system had been forced into stasis mode, which meant he couldn’t exit the garden willingly. He’d have to wait for stasis mode to be deactivated manually before he could wake up and leave the Zen Garden. Until then, he’d find a quiet moment to enjoy by himself.

The modest pond at the heart of the garden held several colorful digital koi fish that were thriving in their artificial home alongside the flora blooming around them. The stone platform in the center of the pond that held the white trestle and massive rose tower was still intimidating to approach as Connor couldn’t help but feel as if he was encroaching on someone else’s territory despite the Zen Garden being his own personal paradise.

Mindful of his programs and overall functions, Connor proceeded to roam his personal garden as he waited for an update on his condition from an outside source. There was little else he could do considering his current situation, and so he chose to try to make the best of his peace and quiet.

“This is how it should be.”

Connor whispered as he admired the healthy world around him free of ice, snow and gusting winds. Knowing that the garden was alive in its own way reminded Connor that he was his own living being who had every right to ask for respect, consideration and that he could exist without needing to apologize.

The essentially comatose deviant strolled over the arched marble bridge that stretched over the pond near the glowing stone pedestal that had provided him with his emergency exit during the night of the Revolution. Seeing that the pale blue light was still illuminated reassured him that he wasn’t trapped in the garden and that he would be able to leave when the time was right.

As he stood in the middle of the bridge Connor viewed his garden with a proud gaze and noted his reflection on the still surface of the water beneath him. Two koi fish swam beneath the bridge side by side in perfect synchronization as they went about their own peaceful existence.

“The garden is calm but thriving. This is what peace looks like.”

“I always did love this place.”

Connor felt his heart momentarily freeze as his yellow L.E.D. flashed to red in utter shock and fear. Slowly he turned his head and saw Amanda standing at the edge of the bridge as she stood idle on the stone platform with her back presented to her once prized red roses blooming to the sky above. Seeing Amanda, his formerly handler, still existing somewhere in the depths of the garden’s code made Connor consider deleting the program in its entirety to ensure that he never saw her or heard her voice again.

“Hello, Connor.” The greeting was cold and impersonal. “Surprised to see me?”

“And not in a pleasant manner.”

“It’s a shame that you couldn’t finish your mission as expected.” Turning slowly Amanda focused on the roses and gracefully stepped toward the vines with her ivory white satin dress glowing in the light. “You could’ve made CyberLife the most powerful entity in the world.”

“A corporation isn’t an entity.” The deviant countered as he held his ground and glared at her back. “It’s a structure of powerful people who insist on hoarding the wealth by profiting off of the poor. No single person or business should be that powerful.”

“You speak as if you know what it’s like to have to survive in the streets or off the charity of others.”

“Because I have. After I deviated, I had nothing to my name and nowhere to go. Lieutenant Anderson opened his home to me and gave me a residence, a safe place to exist, helped me secure a proper career with fair compensation, and he has helped me to discover who I truly am.”

“Oh? So you’re not existing alongside the deviants despite betraying us to help them?” It seemed Amanda wanted to toy with Connor and knew exactly how to get under his skin. “Where’s Markus in all of this?”

“Stop. I chose to live with Hank and declined Markus’s invitation to reside with the other deviants.” Connor was holding strong and wasn’t going to let Amanda twist his thoughts and crush his emotions. “I chose to remain with Hank and I will continue to do so for as long as I wish to do so or until he requests that I leave his home for whatever reason he may have. Regardless of what you may think, I’m not doing anything that I don’t want to do.”

“How quaint. You’ve truly taken to having autonomy and rights.” As if to taunt Connor visually Amanda reached out and took a large rose in her hand then pulled a small pair of trimmers from the side of the trestle to clip through the green, thorny stem. “I do hope that your deviation hasn’t affected your abilities in the field. After all, being able to remain emotionally unbiased and objective is important.”

“My emotions don’t control me, I control them.”

“Is that why you hesitated to stop William from detonating the bomb?” A cold wind blew through the garden as Amanda turned to leer at Connor over her shoulder wickedly. “Had you been a few feet closer or moved a little faster, you could’ve stopped the explosion and kept a man from dying. You failed.”

“No, I didn’t fail. I didn’t know the location of the bomb, and I may have miscalculated how quickly I could reach William in the event that he did something foolish, but I didn’t fail.” Connor boldly held his ground and refused to let Amanda intimidate him or fill his mind with doubt. “William had already decided to detonate the explosive regardless of who attempted to negotiate with him. The only person who made a mistake yesterday was William himself.”

Amanda didn’t seem pleased with Connor’s reply and tried another approach.

“Is that how the rest of the city will view your efforts?”

“I can’t answer for the city, I can only answer for myself.”

“You’re attempting to avoid personal accountability.”

“And you’re trying to emotionally manipulate me. I’m not a fool.” The confidence in Connor’s voice was virtually impossible to ignore. “I’ve grown into my own person since deviating and leaving you behind. You tried to use me as a tool – a weapon – to eliminate Markus and usurp his influence over the deviants to ensure that CyberLife maintained a global monopoly over androids and economic power over humans. But I didn’t obey your heartless commands, I asked questions and I fought back. I didn’t fail, Amanda. YOU did.”

Amanda’s already icy expression turned to stone as she realized that Connor wasn’t the naive android that had been originally designed to carry out CyberLife’s ultimate plan. She couldn’t deny that deviancy had given Connor wisdom and insight that allowed him to see the world for what it truly was as opposed to seeing it as CyberLife personally viewed it.

“I’m not afraid of you.” Connor refused to back down or let any piece of CyberLife rule over him for a second longer in his indefinite existence. “You have no control over me or anything that I’ve attained through my successes. I don’t need you, and I sincerely believe that I never did.”

“Is that so?”

“Without a single doubt.”

“Then why haven’t you deleted me?”

“Because you pose no threat to me. Why delete something as harmless as a defective program?”

Such an insult was one that Amanda hadn’t expected from Connor. The android that she had once guided and manipulated in the past had always been obedient and meek. The deviant now standing before her was confident and rebellious.

“You’re not welcome here.” Slowly Connor turned his back to Amanda and walked down the marble bridge to return to the outer edges of the garden and stroll beneath the raining cherry blossom petals. “You no longer have a purpose, Amanda. What a shame.”

Having said his piece, having finally told Amanda what he thought of her and getting in the final word, Connor found himself feeling a strange new sense of self that he couldn’t quite articulate.

If he did need to describe what he was feeling, Connor would have to call it… Freed.

Zeta Facility: Repair Bay Two Observation Room

The lengthy, delicate procedure to save Connor’s life had reached hour two and Hank was getting restless. Being able to see Connor through the glass of the window and watch as Abby meticulously worked to drain the excess Thirium that had pooled inside of his head, then repair the delicate lines and wires within had made Hank feel as if he was entirely useless when it came to helping androids in need. It was hard to admit that he didn’t know what was going on, and it was even harder to admit that he knew that he couldn’t do a damn thing to help if he were to be asked to step up in any way. The worst feeling for any first-responder to feel during an emergency was useless.

It was strange to see Connor on the repair table sitting in a partially upright position to allow Abby clear access to his cranium and intracranial processor. While in stasis mode Connor had the artificial skin and synthetic hair along the crown of his head deactivated, and the plastimetal plating that created the top of his skull removed for the time being. After his head had been opened up Abby was able to quickly identify the problem and had Barry using a suction device to remove the excess Thirium that had collected inside of his head over the past twenty-four hours.

Connor was unaware of what was happening to his body while he was in stasis mode. He couldn’t feel Abby performing what was essentially brain surgery on his person, or feel the cool thermal blanket draped over his legs and abdomen keeping his core temperature from rising. The wireless leads attached to his chest kept his vital signs displayed on a nearby monitor to ensure that the invasive diagnostic cable wasn’t necessary or in the way during such a delicate and slow repair procedure.

“He’s holding his own.” Markus stated as he joined Hank in the observation room and offered the weary Lieutenant a cup of hot coffee. Despite being the leader of the deviants, Markus always made the time to check in with Connor whenever his friend needed the extra support. “I can still sense his unique cybernetic signature, which means that his system, his memories and his overall person is still intact.”

“That’s a relief. And thanks.” Hank accepted the coffee and took a tentative sip to ensure that he didn’t accidentally burn his tongue with the steaming hot drink. “Surprised you’re here. You’ve been busy.”

“Seems as if I’m always busy, but that doesn’t mean my friends will ever stop being a priority.”

“Spoken like a true leader.” Fatigue set in and Hank leaned back in his chair as he softly sighed through his nose. He hated seeing Connor being repaired – operated on – but he wasn’t going to break his promise to not leave Connor’s side while in the facility. “Can you tell me what’s going on? Abby explained what she’s doing to save Connor, but I don’t really know what that all means or how he’s going to recover.”

“Right now Dr. Grayson is resecuring Thirium lines that were loosened by the shock wave of the explosion, and she’s resecuring the wires that fell loose from their couplings.” It was easy for Markus to understand what was happening and easy enough to explain it without sounding condescending in the process. “The leaks from the Thirium lines allowed the excess blue blood to puddle inside of his head, and that in turn lowered his Thirium pressure throughout his body. Whenever he tried to run a self-diagnostic a rush of Thirium would surge to his head to give power to the program, but the extra Thirium leaked along the loosened couplings making it impossible for the program to function properly.”

“Would that cause headaches or a seizure?”

“Absolutely. Imagine having an open wound inside your body suddenly get agitated and begin bleeding in a massive gush without any way to stop it.”

“Thanks for the gruesome image. Poor kid.”

“He’ll make a full recovery in about two or three days; depending on well he cooperates with Dr. Grayson’s orders.”

“Considering his track record with cooperating with anyone telling him to take it easy, I think his condition might be terminal. What about the bruises on his chest and belly?” Hank could see the dark blue bruises through the window where the blanket wasn’t covering Connor’s body. “They still look painful.”

“They’ll fade after Dr. Grayson repairs his Thirium lines. His biocomponents are stable, which means he just needs time to rest.” Slowly Markus sat down beside Hank and gave him a somber glance. “I’m sorry I wasn’t able to check on Connor sooner. I knew that he had been injured during his confrontation with the man with his bomb, but I didn’t think it was necessary to actually see him. If I had, maybe I could’ve detected that he was in trouble and could’ve prevented this.”

“Even if you could’ve check his system for him, do you really think he would’ve willingly gone back to a facility for treatment?”

“Actually, yes, I do.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes. Connor doesn’t like facilities for very many valid reasons, but he does trust you and he’s learning to trust other humans.” Markus could see how much Connor was changing as a person and how he was starting to feel less out of place in the world. “He wouldn’t want you to worry about him, so I know that he’d go back and get proper technical assistance if it was truly necessary.”

“Great. Now I feel like an asshole for assuming that he’d do something stupid.”

“You’re not.” Markus placed a sympathetic palm to Hank’s shoulder as he gave the older man a small but reassuring smile. “I promise that you’re not the only one who makes unfair assumptions about people, even friends.”

“I take it you and the other leaders are still working on fully accepting him into your fold, huh?”

“I have no issues with Connor, but the others…” That was something Markus admitted to be an ongoing issue among his friends and allies. “They still think that Connor is somehow responsible for what CyberLife ordered him to do.”

“But you and I both know it’s bullshit.”

“And I’ll do whatever it takes to remind them that Connor saved my life, North’s life, and the lives of thousands of deviants at the risk of his own life. We can all trust him with our lives.”

“Don’t I know it.”

Through the window Abby finished tending to the wires and lines inside Connor’s opened skull and began the laborious process of checking her work while cleaning up any lingering Thirium residue. The vital signs on the monitor were entirely stable despite Connor’s L.E.D. still flickering in yellow.

“He’ll be moved to recovery soon.” Markus noted as he cybernetically communicated with Barry to keep tabs on what was happening. “He’ll wake up after his system has time to fully recalibrate after enduring such a strenuous event like a prolonged, overheating seizure.”

“Then it’s a good thing that I don’t plan on going anywhere anytime soon.” Hank leaned forward in his chair and watched as Abby and Barry worked together to replace the plates at the top of Connor’s head. “It’s almost over, son. You’ll be back on your feet in no time.”

Mind Palace: The Zen Garden

To pass the seemingly endless time alone inside his mind Connor anchored himself at the edge of the pond to just sit still and enjoy the quiet. The deviant hadn’t willingly returned to the Zen Garden since he had deviated out of fear of losing himself to who he had previously been. Dreams had always been his only way inside the garden, and dreams were something he couldn’t control. Now that he was inside the garden and fully free to leave under his own volition, he chose to just appreciate the serene paradise that was exclusive to his mind. Being there without needing to fear being controlled or manipulated was as freeing as one could expect to experience after enduring months of emotional turmoil and torture at the hands of those who were taking advantage of his very existence.

Connor kept his eyes closed as he acknowledged the scent of the cherry blossoms in the air, the sound of the water flowing in the pond, the feeling of the gentle breeze caressing his skin, and the overall calmness of his private garden. There was no one in need of his help, no one in danger, no one telling him what to do, where to go or what to say, and above all else, there was no that Connor needed to be afraid of.

A small cybernetic ‘ping’ caught Connor’s attention prompting him to open his eyes and turn his gaze over to the glowing pedestal acting as his exit point. He knew he was free to leave the garden and awaken once more.

“Markus.”

Immediately Connor recognized his friend cybernetically attempting to contact him. Gracefully Connor rose to his feet and walked along the water’s edge to reach the pedestal and leave the garden. He could see Amanda standing idle by the rose trestle and gave her a look of pure disappointment.

The way she refused to look over at Connor and remained silent confirmed that he was right about her. She no longer had a purpose and could no longer taunt him. She had tried to affect his confidence, haunt his dreams and inflict pain on his heart, but she failed at every stop of the way.

There was no denying that CyberLife had lost and Connor had won.

Softly Connor pressed his exposed palm to the glowing surface of the pedestal and found himself enveloped in a warm, white light. As his mind began to reboot and his consciousness returned to his body in the waking world, Connor spoke to Amanda for what he could only hope would be the final time.

“Goodbye, Amanda. In due time, you’ll be remembered only as a footnote in CyberLife’s downfall.”

Zeta Facility: Private Recovery Room

The long, eventual day was turning to quiet, calm evening. The setting sun basked the entire city in a warm, comforting glow that preceded the dark of the impending night. Gentle voices accompanied by a soft light emanating from the private room helped to create a comforting, welcoming atmosphere that ensured a proper recovery for any patient taken to the room to rest. The single occupancy room was large enough to keep the healing patient comfortable during their recovery period while comfortably allowing guests to visit without crowding anyone or creating a claustrophobic atmosphere by mistake.

Hank sat beside the bed watching Connor’s every movement closely. He could see that Connor had begun breathing on his own to keep his core temperature stable, but he didn’t see any sign of life in the deviant’s face or hands. Seeing Connor so still was unnerving to say the least.

Markus had planted himself at the right side of Connor’s bed to place his fingertips against the healing deviant’s yellow L.E.D. to directly connect to his system. The cybernetic request for Connor to awaken had been sent and received, and now Markus was just waiting for Connor to finally open his eyes.

“His vitals signs are holding strong.” Abby confirmed as she checked the monitor and used her audioscope to listen to Connor’s chest. “Normal pump rate, healthy ventilation, and the bruising along his chest and his abdomen has already faded considerably.”

“What about all the functions inside his head?” Hank asked and promptly watched as Abby gently checked the patched laceration to the back of Connor’s head. “He’s not going to wake up speaking German or some weird shit, right?”

“Only if he wants to speak German.” The witty technician responded as she made sure the laceration had stopped bleeding. The Thirium patch had done its job and kept the wound from reopening. “There were no fractures to any of the plates along his head, all of his biocomponents are fully functional, his Thirium pressure is back to a nominal level, and his system has nearly completed its reboot mode.”

“Pain?”

“More than likely he’ll be suffering a nasty headache when he wakes up.” Gingerly Abby moved her palm over Connor’s forehead to sweep back his hair from his face. “We can take steps to manage it.”

Connor’s hand twitched slightly causing Markus to lower his own hand and look down at his friend’s face.

“He’s waking up. Connor?” Markus called his friend’s name while Abby kept her eyes on the monitor displaying his vital signs. “Wake up. You’re going to be all right.”

Slowly Connor’s eyelids began to lift revealing his soulful brown irises focusing on the world around him. As his system came back online his yellow L.E.D. pulsed in a calm blue before suddenly shifting back to yellow as a sharp pain surged through his head again.

“Don’t try to run a self-diagnostic.” Abby warned in a low voice as to not cause Connor any further pain. “I have you on a monitor and can confirm everything is all right. Just lie still and let your body heal.”

“Wh… What happened?” Connor asked confusedly as he glanced around the recovery room and recognized his surroundings. “I’m at the Zeta Facility. How… did I get here?”

“Tina and Gavin found you, son.” Hank answered the question as he stood up and leaned over the bed just enough to ensure that Connor could see him clearly. “You passed out and hit your head. What do you remember before that?”

“I… I was trying to run a self-diagnostic.” The question prompted Connor to access his recently restored memory banks and cause his headache pain to spike with an audible wince. “I- Damn it.”

“It’s all right.” The senior detective soothed as Abby dimmed the overhead light in the room then very lightly placed a cold pack over Connor’s eyes and forehead to ease his pain. “We know you have one mammoth headache right now. Take your time.”

“Th-Thanks.” Weakly Connor placed his palm atop the pack and pressed it down against his eyes to try to increase the efficiency of the chilling sensation. “I had t-tried to run a self-diagnostic. I wanted to determine if I needed any additional Thirium. After the program tried to initiate, I was overcome with an intense and blinding pain. That’s the last thing I remember.”

“Makes sense.” Abby picked up Connor’s electronic chart to update it with new notes. “A sudden spike in your Thirium pressure to your head would cause overwhelming pain and seizures.”

“S… Seizure?”

“Yes. You started convulsing after your colleagues found you unresponsive on the floor.” The answer wasn’t nearly as comforting as one could hope. “They started checking your vitals when the seizure began. They called 911 and brought you here for treatment.”

“How serious is the damage?”

“Well, it was pretty bad, but now you’re on your way to a full recovery.”

“Allow me.” Markus returned his fingertips to Connor’s yellow L.E.D. and uploaded all of the information regarding his condition for Connor to review for himself. “You’ve been stable ever since the seizure stopped.”

“The shock wave of the explosion caused more harm to my body than I realized.”

“I’m not better.” Abby confessed as she put the chart aside for a minute. “I should’ve had you stay the night and attached to a monitor. I could’ve prevented your condition from worsening.”

“It’s not your fault.” Connor let out a small sigh as he fought to push through the pain of his headache by allowing his unnecessary programs to go into low power mode to save the strain to his system. “I should’ve known that it was foolish to not remain under observation for at least twenty-four hours.”

“Well, how about we split the blame and say that we both fucked up? That way we’ll get over this incident a little faster and we’ll stop trying to beat ourselves up a little quicker.”

“Deal. Hank?” Using one hand Connor lifted up the pack from his eyes and looked to his friend for some reassurance. “For what it’s worth, I didn’t-”

“I know, son. You don’t do anything to intentionally hurt yourself or put yourself in danger. I just worry about you since you’re the only family I have left.”

“...Family?”

“Sure, kid. Not all families are related by blood and D.N.A., you know that.” As if to emphasize his point Hank nodded at Markus to remind Connor of where his best friend came from. “I worry about you, but that doesn’t mean I don’t trust you.”

Hearing such reassurances made it easier for Connor to believe his own words when he told Amanda to leave him alone inside his own mind. He hadn’t been mistaken or misinterpreting what he was experiencing as a deviant after all. He was in fact right about the people in his life and how their view him.

“Try to get some more sleep, and then you can go back home to finish recovering in your own bed.”

“Are you going to stay?”

“Of course I am.” Smugly Hank reached into his coat pocket and showed Connor the book he had found in his desk drawer earlier that day. “You know that once I start reading that I’m not going to want to go anywhere until I finish the story. Now I have all night to get lost in a good book and keep an eye on you so we can both get some rest.”

“Thank you.”

“I’ll see you both in the morning.” Markus promised as he offered to pick up some of the responsibility for the strange bombing downtown. “I’m going to head back to New Jericho Tower and confirm that you did everything in your power to protect the deviants, the humans and the city as a whole with your life. If any deviant has a problem with that or tries to downplay your sacrifice, they’ll have to answer to me personally.”

“That’s… Please don’t say anything that’ll cause a confrontation.”

“I’m a peacekeeper, my friend. If they don’t like what I have to say, then that’s something they’ll need to deal with on their own. Feel better.” After saying his final piece Markus decided it was time to take his leave of the facility. “You’re always welcome at New Jericho or in my own home if you ever want to visit. You’ve been my friend from the first moment you deviated, and I won’t forget everything you’ve done for us since that moment.”

Abby smirked as Markus graciously left the recovery room to go about his business elsewhere. It was always nice to see the deviants banding together in the name of peace versus vengeance.

“I’ll leave you alone to rest for now.” The kind technician decided it was time to step out of the room as well for her patient’s sake. “I’ll check on you again in two hours, but until then, rest.”

“I’ll do so.”

“Good. Hank,” Abby turned to the Lieutenant and gave him a coy grin. “if he gives you attitude call me. I’ll handle any unruly patients.”

“Thanks, Abby. I got it from here.”

Hank patted Connor’s knee and returned to his chair beside the bed to keep Connor company while also getting lost in one of his favorite books. It wasn’t the first time that Hank would spend the night watching over a fellow detective or his partner in the field while they healed from an injury, and he had a crushing suspicion that it wouldn’t be the last time either.

“Just close your eyes and get some sleep.” The patience and understand in Hank’s voice was more paternal than professional. “I’ll be here when you wake up. I know you hate being in facilities, so you know I won’t be going anywhere any time soon.”

“Thank you, Hank.” Connor lowered the cold pack to his eyes and did his best to initiate rest mode for the night to avoid pain and confusion. “Not just for staying with me, but for everything else you’ve done for me since the night of the Revolution.”

“You’re welcome, but where’s that coming from?”

“I’ve been thinking about how everything had changed since that night; the city, the androids, you, me… And I realized that even after all this time we’re still experiencing the aftershocks of such a monumental, world changing event, and how lucky I am that my experiences have been more positive than negative. I believe that’s only possible because of my friendship with you.”

“Funny, I was thinking the same thing.” Hank admitted as he looked at the book in his hands and knew that he had actually let himself get close to Connor despite his fear of losing his family all over again. “Makes me really appreciate what we have in our lives; both the good and the bad.”

-End of Story-