The morning was calm, warm and too inviting for anyone to sleep in. Moving about the house as quietly as possible to let Hank sleep in on his day off Connor left a perfectly written note on the kitchen table and then took the keys to the Oldsmobile from the bookshelf in the livingroom. Letting Sumo outside through the backdoor to ensure nothing and no one disturbed Hank's sleep throughout the early morning hours Connor made his way outside through the front door, entered the car, backed the car down the driveway and headed into the city to purchase a few new items to furnish his room just as Hank suggested he do the night before.
Connor had only been away from the house for three hours tat morning and returned long before Hank had even woken up. While keeping quiet with every step he took throughout the house Connor managed to finish his early morning task without ever waking Hank in the process. After replacing the car keys back to where they belonged and letting Sumo back inside the house Connor set about furnishing his new bedroom.
Deservedly so Hank had been sleeping peacefully throughout the morning until a sudden sharp 'gasp' from just down the hallway caught his ear. It sounded like someone was in pain, but there was no other sound to accompany it; no crashing sound, no voice calling out for help and no resonating panic. While most people would've dismissed the sound as a weird dream or their imagination and drifted back to sleep Hank decided to get up and investigate.
Opening his bedroom door Hank spotted Sumo with his tail wagging and sitting in the hallway watching someone moving about in the opened door of the neighboring bedroom. Standing beside the dog Hank pet the Saint Bernard's ears and looked inside the bedroom to see Connor setting up a large aquarium against the far wall between the closet and the window.
"Connor," Hank sounded entirely groggy as he spoke. "what the hell are you doing?"
"I'm sorry, Hank. Did I wake you?" Connor sincerely asked as he turned away from the large glass tank that was already full of brightly colored fish. The array of little fish was quite impressive. "I was trying to be quiet."
"Something woke me up for damn sure, not sure if it was you or not." Curiously Hank peered at the aquarium and gave Connor an odd look. "Since when do you like fish?"
"I think it started the night of the hostage negotiation during my first mission." The kind deviant replied honestly as he wiped the dripping water from his hands off onto a towel, then wiped the towel over the aquarium's glass to clean it up. "Shortly after I entered the apartment on that night I spotted a small fish on the floor, it had apparently jumped out of the nearby tank just before I had arrived. I put it back in the tank and I've found the prospect of an aquarium intriguing ever since."
"So you bought a fish tank," Hank observed at he looked about the room curiously. "and... that's it?"
"No. I also purchased additional clothing to wear while I'm not at work. I know you dislike me wearing my work uniform off the clock."
"But you're always at work, that is unless you've been sidelined by an injury." It was then Hank saw a faint blue stain forming on the back of Connor's gray t-shirt. Pointing toward the stain Hank brought the deviant's attention to the fresh blood. "Speaking of being injured..."
Connor's brow furrowed but when he followed Hank's motion toward his own back Connor realized that he had accidentally pulled open the healing artificial skin covering the cut on his back that he had received the night before. "I have apparently re-opened my wound while carrying the heavy burden of the aquarium into the house."
Hank walked over to Connor and lifted up his shirt to look at it with his own eyes. "It's not bleeding too badly. I'll get one of those fancy android bandages for you out of the first aid kit."
Pressing his right hand over the bleeding wound Connor ran a self diagnostic and found the damage to be of no consequence. "It's not severe." He could hear Hank rummaging through the android first aid kit that was kept in the bathroom across the hallway and tried to ease his worries. "It'll heal within the coming twenty-four hours."
Returning to the bedroom with the bandage in his right hand Hank lightly pressed it against Connor's back and taped it in place to cover up the wound again and keep it from bleeding any further. "So, what else are you going to do with the room?"
"What do you mean?"
"You can't just buy a fish tank and some clothes. That's not exactly making this room your own, you know?"
"Oh. What else should I buy?" Connor asked as he pulled off his t-shirt and pulled a new black t-shirt from his closet. Slipping it on over his head Connor sat down and sat on the foot of his bed as he looked to Hank for more guidance. "I don't need anything."
"It's not about just buying things." Hank sat down beside Connor on the bed and looked over at the brightly colored fish swimming about the new aquarium in a graceful school. From the hallway Sumo invited himself inside the room and sat down on the floor at both Hank and Connor's feet as he sought some more attention. "It's about personalizing. This is your room now, so do whatever you want to it."
"Like what?"
"I don't know. Paint the walls, replace the carpet, hang up some pictures or posters, or whatever. Make this place look however you want."
Connor nodded a little as he contemplated what Hank was telling him. "I'll take your advice and find a way to make this room feel more like my own."
"Good. That's what I wanted to hear."
A cybernetic call came in abruptly from a known 'WR-400' that Connor never spoke to on a personal level. "...Odd."
"What's odd?"
"I'm being prompted to answer a call from North."
"Better answer it." The senior detective wisely suggested as he rose from the bed to take a quick shower and wake up a little more. "Let me know if it's an emergency or something and I'll help out."
Connor nodded as he cybernetically answered the call. "Hello, North."
'Connor,' North's voice sounded unusually somber and lethargic as she spoke to Connor. 'something terrible has happened. And I need your help.'
"What's going on?"
Ten minutes of tense silence followed the cybernetic call and Connor remained in his bedroom at a loss of what he should do next. As Hank exited the bathroom he spotted Connor standing in the middle of the bedroom wearing a complete change of clothes that was similar to the ones he wore on the night he located Jericho. There was a strange look on his face as he slipped on his dark brown leather jacket and turned to look at Hank standing in the doorway.
"Connor," there was a suddenly influx of Hank's paternal instincts as he addressed his young friend and honorary son from the hallway. "is everything okay?"
"Hank?" There was a strange look of fear in the deviant's soulful brown eyes that Hank had never seen before. As he spoke in a hesitating, unsure voice Connor nervously rubbed his hand over Sumo's ears as if needing to calm himself. "Can you take me over to Mr. Manfred's house? It's important."
"Y-Yeah, of course. I'll get changed and we'll leave right away."
With a soft nod Connor continued to focus on Sumo while Hank slipped down the hallway to change his clothes. "...Thank you."
Driving out to the large mansion was bizarrely quiet as Connor sat in the front passenger seat and contemplated the news he had been told. Being mindful of Connor's still developing emotions and somewhat limited understanding of emotions Hank didn't try to engage in conversation or ask what Connor was thinking about. It wasn't too long before the old car was pulling into the driveway of the large house that they had visited once before on Father's Day as Markus expertly orchestrated a very pleasant day to share with his father, and for Connor to bond a little closer to Hank as the senior detective had taken on the role of a father figure in Connor's young life.
The usually warm, gorgeous brick mansion that also housed the studio of the exceptionally talented artist of Carl Manfred seemed somehow dreary as Connor and Hank approached the front door of the home. There was a single dim light glowing out from the bedroom window on the top floor, but the rest of the house was dark and quiet. Knocking twice on the front door the two respectful detectives waited for an answer and they didn't have to wait for long.
North pulled open the door quickly and stepped aside to let the duo enter the home. "Connor, Hank. Thanks for coming."
"Where's Markus?" Connor asked in a low voice as he stepped inside the front foyer and looked around curiously. "I want to help him."
"He's upstairs with Carl." Pausing for a moment as she closed the door behind the two detectives North gave Connor a truly sad look. "...Leo is there, too."
Hank recognized the name and shook his head in response. "And Leo is Carl's personal redemption story of a deadbeat son. So it must be bad." The senior detective could tell by the way North was talking that the end was looming heavily over Carl. "How's Carl doing?"
"He's... He's already passed away."
Closing his eyes Hank felt like an ass for his previous comment. "...When did it happen?"
"Last night." North replied honestly, her voice was very low so as to not disturb Markus who was upstairs with Carl. "The caregiver who had been staying with Carl ever since... Well, whatever! He called New Jericho last night and told Markus that Carl's health had begun to decline around ten o'clock. They think it was his heart that gave out."
"Is there anything we can do?"
"Help me take care of Markus." Was all North asked sweetly. She glanced over at Connor for a moment as she spoke. "Lucas and the others are going to help take care of things at New Jericho until Markus and I return to the tower."
"How can I help?" The sympathy in Connor's voice was as sincere as it was heavy. "You know Markus better than I do."
"Come with me." Gently North took Connor's right arm and pulled him toward the staircase. Walking slowly she whispered to Connor for the sake of respect for everyone else in the house as she explained things to the kindhearted deviant detective. "Look, you and Markus are the only deviants I know who have positive experiences and friendships with humans. I don't know how to comfort Markus over the death of a human. I don't know how to connect with him emotionally right now."
"I see. I'll think of something."
North showed Connor to the closed door to Carl's bedroom where the deviant caregiver, David, was standing idle outside. "If you're ready go inside and see Markus. I'll stay downstairs with Lieutenant Anderson until... I guess until I'm needed again."
"North." Connor grabbed onto her left hand with his right hand as he spoke softly. "You don't need to have a human friend to connect to Markus about this, you just need to empathize with his pain. How would you feel if you lost a friend you truly cared about? The pain is... unimaginable. It doesn't matter if it's the loss of a human or an android."
Unsure of what to say North just squeezed Connors hand as she turned to walk away.
Taking a deep breath Connor nodded at David as he stepped through the door leading into the master bedroom. The sight that awaited him caused Connor to freeze where he stood in the opened doorway as he watched the heartwrenching moment unfold before him.
Markus was sitting on the edge of Carl's bed, sitting at the old man's side with his hand resting over Carl's hand. Tears were streaming down Markus's face as he stared at the peaceful expression on Carl's face as Carl laid perfectly still on the bed. Standing at the head of the bed was another man that Connor deduced to be Leo, Carl's biological son. Just like Markus sitting beside him Leo was also crying and still had his own hand wrapped around Carl's other hand.
Glancing at the cardiac monitor that had Carl's vitals on display Connor saw that everything had ceased and that the monitor was quiet. It was too late to say or do anything to save Carl's life. The brilliant and kindhearted artist was gone.
Carl had evidently passed peacefully in his sleep with Markus and Leo, his two sons, at his side up until his final breath.
Connor called to his friend in a gentle whisper as to not disturb him. "Markus?"
Barely able to speak Markus shook his head sadly and never looked away from Carl's face. "He's gone."
"I'm so sorry." As he lamented the painful loss Connor bowed his head slightly and his soulful eyes shut as his L.E.D. transitioned from blue to yellow. "I know how important he... How can I help you?"
"Please just... Give me some time. I'm not ready to leave him." Tightening his grip on Carl's hand Markus refused to leave his father's bedside. "Not yet."
"Of course. I'll let you be. Take as much time as you need." Glancing briefly at Leo, who was standing statuesque with his back to the doorway, Connor acknowledged the grieving human as well. "Both of you."
Connor stepped back through the bedroom door and used his right jacket sleeve to wipe away a rogue tear that hard formed in his right eye. Walking past David who was still standing loyally outside the door Connor descended the staircase and reunited with Hank and North who were standing in the foyer quietly waiting for an update.
"Hank," the low tone of Connor's voice was all the senior detective needed to hear to know what had happened. "Markus and Leo need a moment. Could you call the coroner and inform them of Carl's passing?"
"Yeah, I'll take care of it." Hank pulled his phone from his back jean pocket and stepped through the front door to make the call in private. "I'll make sure they know the family is still present and to keep the reporting vultures at bay out of respect."
Connor stood at the bottom of the staircase with his L.E.D. still yellow and with heavy emotion in his soulful brown eyes. North studied him curiously as if she couldn't comprehend how Connor could feel anything toward the now late Carl Manfred as he wasn't close to the man in the same way that Markus had been.
Not wanting to be disrespectful or cold, North kept her silence and didn't bother to inquire about Connor or Markus's very human reactions to the death.
Staying together and silent the whole house fell into respectful grief as the news of Carl's passing settled in like a lead weight.
Despite the attempts to keep things quiet it didn't take long for word of the famous artist's passing to circulate throughout the entire city. A large crowd of nosy reporters and ghoulish gossips had gathered on the front lawn of the private property while the authorities properly dealt with the situation professionally, and respectfully on behalf of the family and friends to the Manfred family. Hank did his best to keep the photographers at bay outside outside the house while Leo accompanied his father's body to the mortuary. North stayed behind at the house, mainly because she still disdained being around so many humans and spoke to David to offer him a place at New Jericho if he decided he no longer wished to fulfill the role that the humans had placed on him.
Connor on the other hand dared to ascend the staircase one more time to visit with Markus who had refused to leave Carl's bedroom. Entering the room quietly Connor saw Markus was still sitting on the edge of the bed, this time his back was turned toward the door and he was watching with a broken stare through the window as the ambulance escorted Carl's body from the property.
Approaching his friend slowly Connor placed his left hand on Markus's right shoulder lightly to let him know he was there.
"...I don't know what I'm going to do." Markus huffed as tears continued to fall down his face. An unfinished painting that Carl had created prior to his heart attack was clutched between Markus's hands in a tight yet careful grip. "Carl... He wasn't just my friend. He was my father! He really was."
Connor sat own on the bed next to Markus while keeping his hand in place and said nothing. It was time to just listen.
"Even when I was first on my own I always knew that I could rely on Carl if I ever needed help, but now he's gone. I have no one to call on when I need advice, I have no one to speak to when I feel lost, I don't have anyone to call my... My dad."
Absolutely clueless as to what he could possibly say to lessen the pain in Markus's heart all Connor could do was lift his hand from Markus's shoulder and wrap his arm around the mourning deviant leader's shoulders to pull him close for a supportive hug. Markus bowed his head forward as he continued to sob, his tears falling onto the dried paint and canvas of the painting still clutched in his hands.
Connor felt tears of his own beginning to fall again as he, for reasons couldn't understand, seemed to feel the same horrific pain as Markus.
Empathy he supposed.
Unable to speak or move beyond his pain Markus continued to weep and process the horrible pain in his very real heart as Connor sat beside him.
Kindly and respectfully North had elected to stay behind at the Manfred homestead with Markus and Leo as the two sons prepared for their late father's funeral. The final arrangements had been planned out by Carl himself weeks in advance to spare his surviving family the pain and burden of having to plan the funeral themselves, which made things a little easier and much faster to process. Though small and brief the emotional reprieve the two sons were feeling was as appreciated as any support still being shown toward Carl's work as an artist, and to all of the charities that Carl had supported throughout his impressive and illustrious career.
Connor and Hank had returned home in a expectedly glum mood after enduring such a bleak day. While Hank was already fairly accustomed to attending funerals; one of the darkest drawbacks of being an officer, the entire experience was new to Connor. Sliding open his closet door to examine the new clothing he had recently purchased the always respectful deviant felt uneasy knowing that he didn't have any black dress shirts to wear to the funeral tomorrow.
"Hank? Do you have a black dress shirt I could borrow for the funeral?" Connor asked from his bedroom while Hank was down in the kitchen. "I don't have anything appropriate."
"Sure!" Shouting the response Hank stayed in the kitchen to focus on his dinner. "Look in the right side of my closet, there should be some smaller sizes that can fit you."
Entering Hank's bedroom Connor slid open the closet door and spotted a half dozen dark shirts that were clearly older than Hank's current attire. Pushing aside two black t-shirts Connor located a black button down dress shirt that would be perfect for the funeral the next day, if not a little baggy to wear. As he turned to close the closet door Connor's eye caught something glinting on the top shelf of the closet that piqued his curiosity.
Looking closer Connor noted that it was a bottle of alcohol. Scanning the contents Connor identified it as vodka and the bottle itself had such a thick layer of dust over it that it indicated that no one had touched it in almost six years.
"Hank must've forgotten about it when he cut down on his drinking."
Connor thought aloud, but then a new thought entered his mind.
"...Or he kept it for a reason."
Hank had been reliant on alcohol to help him deal with the pain caused by the deaths of his loved ones as a damaging coping mechanism. Could it have the same effect on androids?
Grabbing onto the bottle Connor tucked it under the shirt he had selected and returned to his bedroom quietly. Placing the vodka on the top shelf of his own closet Connor noticed another curious item on the same shelf he hadn't seen before. A seemingly rogue piece of paper. Plucking the paper from the top shelf Connor examined the image on the paper. It was a crayon drawing that had 'I love you dad' written out in purple over the surface of the aged image.
"Cole drew this."
Stunned by what he had found Connor sat on the edge of his bed and stared at the image for a moment. It seemed so surreal to be holding what felt like an artifact from the past. Connor never had the chance to know Cole since the little boy tragically passed away long before Connor had even been created, but deep down inside the deviant believed that he and Cole would've been fast friends.
Securing the drawing in the drawer of his nightstand to keep it safe Connor decided to keep the discovery to himself as he didn't want to mention the little boy's passing to Hank during such a bleak time. To distract himself Connor began checking through his data files for information on 'proper funeral etiquette', but there was no such information already uploaded into his memorybank to be of any use.
Hank walked by Connor's opened bedroom door,and for a few seconds he stared at the deviant, who was clearly lost deep in thought, before addressing him in a gentle tone. "You okay? You seem really disturbed about the funeral."
"...I've merely never attended one." Connor's L.E.D. had been yellow ever since he learned of Carl's passing and showed no sign of returning to blue any time soon. "It's a new experience for me, a rather macabre one at that."
"You're lucky. I've been to far too many funerals in my lifetime."
"What is the appropriate thing to say during such an occasion?"
"That's difficult to explain." Hank confessed as he crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the door frame. "There's really no default response or reaction to these types of things, but if you want a little advice it's this: If you're not sure what to say then don't say anything at all. Silence can be the most respectful gesture anyone can show when in the company of tragedy and death."
Nodding a little Connor pressed for more details. "Is there any behavior that should never be displayed?"
"Again Connor, it's not that simple. There's no 'right' or 'wrong' way to mourn someone's death. Some people will display more emotion than others, but it doesn't mean the people who aren't visibly crying or upset aren't torn up on the inside." Shrugging his shoulders a little Hank tried his best to simplify the concept of a funeral as much as he could. "Everyone expresses their grief in different ways."
"How do-"
"I don't know. There's too many different reactions to explain with a single answer." Hank cut off the question before Connor had a chance to ask it. "But I will tell you this, if it turns out you're one of those people who deals with grief by cracking jokes or making sarcastic comments, then stick by me. I know you won't actually mean anything disrespectful and I'll get you out of there quick."
"Is... that common? For someone to make inappropriate jokes at a funeral?"
"In our line of work, yeah. Sometimes a dark sense of humor is the only sense of humor we can still find amusing. And being able to laugh helps us stay sane when the rest of the world is going crazy around us."
Connor was quiet as he contemplated Hank's advice and proceeded to turn his head to look at the fish swimming about in his new aquarium. It was a calming sight and one that made it easier for Connor to think.
"Tomorrow is going to be a long and exhausting day." Stepping away from the doorway Hank gave the young deviant some space to think and grieve for as long as he needed. "Get some sleep. We'll head out together tomorrow morning and be there for Markus as long as he needs us."
"Okay. That's a good idea."
Reaching back to turn off the lamp on the nightstand beside his bed Connor heard Hank walk the short distance down the hallway to enter his own bedroom and shut the door behind himself. Just as his fingers reached the lamp's base the light glinted off the bottle of vodka in the closet that Connor had 'confiscated' from Hank's room and an opportunity presented itself.
Turning off the lamp Connor rose from his bed and returned to the closet, his superior android vision allowing him to see just as well in the dark as he could in any other well lit room, and checked on the bottle again. Taking the tempting bottle from the shelf Connor held it in his hands and blew off the layer of dust to examine the curious item. The bottle was just over halfway full and the label indicated a proof of one-hundred and seventy-six. Connor's scanner estimated the overall contents to be nearly eighty-eight percent pure alcohol making it very potent.
Carrying the bottle into the kitchen quietly Connor pulled a shot glass from the cabinet above the stove and sat down at the small table in the middle of the kitchen. After pouring the first shot of vodka in the small glass Connor calculated how much alcohol his body would be able to handle before it diluted his Thirium to a dangerous level.
Due to the high concentration of alcohol in the vodka it wouldn't take very long.
Holding the powerful shot to his lips Connor tilted his head back and downed the potent drink in one gulp. To the deviant it tasted better than the whiskey he had once shared with Hank but it still wasn't as appetizing as he had hoped. Despite understanding that most humans drink to feel 'numb' rather than enjoy a flavor a part of him still expected it to taste more appealing than it was.
As Connor poured his second shot Sumo wandered into the kitchen from the livingroom and sat beside Connor on the floor next to the table.
"Sorry boy."
Connor downed the next shot and grimaced slightly. His L.E.D. shifted from yellow to red as his scanners noted his Thirium level beginning to dilute as the alcohol entered his system.
"...This is definitely not for canine consumption. This sh-shouldn't even be considered s-safe for human consumption."
Hank had been asleep for just over an hour when he heard a 'crash' coming from the kitchen and Sumo bark once. A bizarre 'shushing' sound followed after the bark and Hank heard Connor muttering something to himself near the source of the commotion.
"What the hell was that?"
Heading into the kitchen to investigate the source of the noise Hank found Connor laying on his back on the kitchen floor beside the table with Sumo standing over him. The deviant didn't even try to get up and his L.E.D. was cycling from red to yellow to blue, back to yellow and red in an uncoordinated pattern.
"Connor?" As Hank turned on the overhead light in the kitchen he spotted the old bottle of vodka laying on its side on the table, a good portion of it spilling out onto the table's surface, and it didn't take him long to figure out what had was happening. "Are you seriously drinking!?"
Connor didn't answer as he laid in a near ethylic coma on the floor with his right arm tucked under his head casually.
"Connor?" Hank called again as he pulled Sumo back by his collar and knelt beside the downed deviant. Patting the left side of Connor's face lightly Hank called his name again in a teasing, sing-songy tone. "Cooooonnoooooor?"
When Connor remained unresponsive Hank pulled his hand back and happily slapped the left side of Connor's face with a strong swing and shouted. "Wake up Connor!"
"Oww..." Connor whined as his soulful brown eyes opened slowly and struggled to focus on Hank's face. "You... You hit me."
"Connor," remaining calm and collected Hank asked the obvious question. "why are you on the floor?"
"I... don't know." The inebriated deviant pathetically failed to lie with a slurring voice. "I... I muzt'uff fallen."
"You were drinking, weren't you?"
"N-No." Connor slurred again as he lifted his head up from his arm only to fall back down against the floor. "I'm tezting... a theory."
"And what theory is that? Whether or not you can succeed in scaring me to death?"
"Wh-Why humans... drink!" Connor's L.E.D. was still cycling from red, to yellow, to blue and back again as if even the L.E.D. was feeling the effects of the strong alcohol. Sitting up slowly Connor blinked in a sluggish manner as he looked Hank in the eyes. "I ztill don't... I don't get it."
Hank laughed a little as Connor's usually perfect diction was marred with slurs and delayed speech. "Uh-huh. How much did you drink?"
Slapping his left hand down atop the kitchen table Connor slowly, clumsily and awkwardly pulled himself onto his knees on the floor as his right hand searched for the bottle of vodka. His right fingers gracelessly wrapped around the neck of the glass bottle and he pulled it down from the table as he fell back on the floor again in a heavy heap.
Holding the bottle up for Hank to see Connor clumsily pointed his left index finger to where the original amount of the bottle had been before he started drinking. "...'Dat much!"
Hank snatched the bottle from Connor's hand and read the label. "Shit! If you were human I'd be driving you to the hospital to get your stomach pumped!"
"Wh-Why?" Connor slurred again as he let his now empty hand drop to the floor with a heavy 'thud' beside him. "Iz it... Iz it a part of... tradition?"
"Nooooo." Putting aside the bottle Hank shook his head slowly with irritation but not disappointment. He had no right to criticize anyone for drinking or Connor for being curious about drinking. "It's because a human would be suffering from alcohol poisoning."
"Iz that-" Stopping mid question Connor suddenly turned his head to the side and threw-up some of his diluted blue Thirium onto the floor as his system tried to compensate from the unnecessary alcohol in his system. "...Oh." Dragging his right arm over his mouth Connor looked at the puddle of vomit beside him. "I... I expelled it."
"Ah, jeez." Hank complained as he stood up to get a towel from a nearby cabinet to mop up the diluted Thirium. "You drink like a freshman."
"...'Zat good?" Connor asked without turning his head away from the blue vomit beside him. "It'z good, right?"
"No, it's not good." Dropping the towel down over the Thirium puddle to clean up the mess Hank reached his right hand down and grabbed onto Connor's upper left arm to hoist the drunken deviant up to his feet. Draping Connor's limp arm around his neck Hank dragged his partner to the bathroom to try to sober him up. "You're the last person I ever would've imagined having to sober up, you know that?"
Connor awkwardly balanced on his uncoordinated feet as Hank pulled him down the hallway at his side. "What of the... what ab-about the... Pope... guy?"
Hank couldn't stop himself from laughing as he hauled Connor into the bathroom and sat him down on the edge of the bathtub as he prepared to take sobering measures on the young deviant. "Okay Connor, let's see if this little trick works as well on androids as it does on me."
"...T-Trick?" The comment made Connor's brow furrow slightly. "Like magic?"
"Yup, like magic." Hank suddenly put his right hand to Connor's chest and pushed Connor backward into the tub. The deviant flailed a little as he fell into the tub and looked up at Hank with blurry, double vision as he laid at an awkward angle at the bottom of the tub. Turning on the faucet the shower Hank doused Connor in a sharp blast of cold water. "Ta-da!"
"Cold!" Connor cried out as the chilly water easily soaked into his clothes and froze him quickly. His L.E.D. shifted to red and finally settled on the singular color rather than fluctuate in a tri-colored display. "Very cold!"
"Not very fun, is it?" Hank sarcastically commented as he turned off the water and sat on the edge of the tub to look down at his drunken partner with a sympathetic gaze. "Connor, what the fuck is wrong with you?"
"I..." Connor's speech was less slurred but his words were still delayed as he spoke. The cold shock seemed to kickstart his system as his self diagnostic noted the temperature shift and the lower Thirium volume that would need to be recalibrated. "I wanted to know... if drinking al-alcohol really stops pain."
"Stops pain?"
"Thinking about Carl..." Struggling to articulate his words Connor explained his reasoning to Hank as best as possible. "It makes me sad."
"That's normal, but just because you're sad doesn't mean you have to get black-out drunk!"
"Hank? What happens to humans when they... die?"
"Ah, kid..." Hank sighed and pulled a fluffy white towel from the nearby rack and dropped it onto Connor's head. "I don't know. No one does."
Connor pulled the towel away from his head with a clumsy right hand and gave Hank a desperately sad look. "When are you... going to die?"
"I..." The question had phased Hank for only a moment before he reached back down for the towel and placed it back down on Connor's head again, his palm rubbing the towel over the deviant's damp locks of hair lightly. "I don't know. Could be tonight, could be tomorrow, could be fifty years from now..."
Fear for the future prompted Connor to suddenly scramble awkwardly onto his knees as he frenziedly wrapped his arms around Hank's chest and held the senior detective in a very uncomfortable hug as his cold, wet clothes soaked into Hank's dry clothes as the towel fell behind him. "I don't want you to die!"
"I'm not-" Hank's first instinct was to push Connor away but he was afraid that the still inebriated deviant might hurt himself physically or have an emotional breakdown if he broke the hug. "Connor, it's going to be okay."
"Carl died, now Markus doesn't have his father!" Connor practically whined as he held tightly onto Hank's chest. "I don't want to lose my father, too..."
Hank didn't know what to say to Connor's emotional outburst. Whether it was truly how Connor felt or if it was the result of his drunken state of mind, Hank couldn't be sure. Picking up the towel again Hank rubbed it over Connor's wet hair for a few seconds before he dropped it back into the tub.
"Come on, son. You need to sleep now." Hank tried to stand up but Connor wasn't letting him go. "Aw man, you're a 'cuddly drunk'." The senior detective complained as he put his right hand on Connor's back in a supporting manner. "Connor, take it easy. It's going to be okay. You'll see."
"...I'm s-sorry." The emotionally distraught deviant drunkenly sobbed as he held tightly onto Hank's chest. "I'm sorry!"
"It's okay, you just need to let me stand up. You said before that alcohol messes with your Thirium, right?"
Connor nodded silently 'yes' as he buried his face into Hank's chest to hide his tears.
"I'm going to get you into your bed and then I'm going to bring you some Thirium to drink. That should help sober ya' up."
Hank had to literally pry Connor's arms from around his waist before he could stand up again. As soon as he was back on his feet Hank grabbed onto Connor's upper arms and pulled the soggy deviant out of the bathtub, and steadied his drunken partner on his feet as he led Connor into his bedroom just across the hallway.
Unable to do anything else Connor allowed Hank to drag him into the bedroom and was practically unconscious by the time Hank had brought him over to his bed to sleep it off. Very carefully Hank sat Connor down on the bed and guided him back until he was laying down.
"Connor?"
No reply.
"Are you unconscious?"
There was another silence as Connor's body went limp over the bed with his head resting on the pillow as he passed out into a drunken slumber.
"Okay, we'll get you some Thirium in the morning."
Leaning down to make sure Connor's L.E.D. was still glowing and that the deviant was still breathing, Hank took a hold of the chocolate brown quilt at the end of the bed and pulled it up over Connor to his chest. As the yellow L.E.D. pulsed slowly in Connor's temple Hank was satisfied that the deviant was stable and decided to go back to sleep himself.
"Tomorrow is going to be rough for all of us. Huh, son?"
The following murky, dreary and rainy morning Connor was rudely awoken by Hank dropping clean blacks clothes onto his aching head while he was still in bed. As soon as Connor's systems fully rebooted a sharp pain hit his head, a tightness settled in his artificial stomach and flash of red warnings appeared over his visual sensors. The overwhelming amount of sensory input stunned his every movement as Connor regained consciousness and focused on what led to his current condition. Taking the moment to think and remember the previous night it took the deviant detective only four point two seconds to figure out what had happened to him and why he felt like utter Hell.
Lifting his head up from his pillow Connor blinked twice to dismiss the read warnings from his visual relays. Seeing Hank standing beside his bed in all black clothing was a stark reminder of what was going on that day.
"Ow..." Pressing his right hand to the side of his aching head Connor tried to process what was happening to him. With his L.E.D. flickering red again it was evident that the deviant wasn't functioning at one-hundred percent. "...I don't feel well."
"Wake up, Connor." Hank stated loudly as he grabbed onto Connor's left hand and shoved a bottle of fresh Thirium into his grip. "You have twenty minutes to get changed. I'll be in the car waiting for you."
"Why so early?"
"The funeral starts in one hour." Hank reminded the hungover deviant android in firm, but non-aggressive tone. "We need to go and support Markus."
"Oh... I remember now." Connor propped himself upright in his bed against his elbows, the clothes falling onto his chest and lap in the process. "Did I do or say something foolish last night?"
"Don't worry about it, I'll explain things in the car." It wasn't the time or the place to discuss the deviant's reckless behavior. Leaving the bedroom Hank gave Connor the privacy to change his clothes. "Just get changed."
Picking up the black clothing from his lap Connor slowly nodded his head and decided to get dressed for the day. "Very well."
After stumbling out of the house and over to the car parked in the driveway now wearing his dark and respectful clothing Connor clumsily pulled open the passenger side door and sat down heavily in the front seat beside Hank, who was already sitting behind the steering wheel. The two detectives were wearing all black out of respect for the departed and Hank even took the time to comb his long gray hair back out of his face and use some gel to keep his locks slicked back throughout the funeral itself. As the duo left the neighborhood to go to the appointed church for the funeral service the deviant let out a tired sigh and a subtle shake of the head due to his self induced illness.
Connor was still in pain and he wasn't afraid to admit it. The bleak and rainy day only made him feel all the worse considering what he just experienced and what he was about to endure for the first time in life.
"How do you feel, kid?"
"...I think I know what you meant that night you were hungover and I sobered you up prior to checking out the 'Eden Club'."
"Feels like there's a drill in your skull?"
Slowly Connor nodded once and immediately regretted the motion as it made his aching head throb.
"Did you drink that Thirium I gave you?" Hank asked as he stopped at a red light and gave his partner a worried glance. "Your light is still red."
"Yes."
"Did it help?"
"To an extent." Connor revealed a second bottle of Thirium tucked under his black jacket in the interior pocket of the left lapel. "My Thirium was dangerously diluted. If I had continued to drink that alcohol I would've gone into shutdown and would've required numerous repairs to reboot properly."
"Good thing you passed out then." Sounding somewhat relieved Hank commented on the situation in a level voice as he watched Connor readily drink the Thirium in his right hand. "Are you going to do that again?"
"Get drunk? No." Connor answered quickly and gave Hank a serious stare. "I won't ever drink to excess ever again."
"Glad to hear it. I already poured out the rest of the vodka anyway."
"Thanks."
"After I cleaned up your puke."
"Sorry..." Connor finished the Thirium and waited for his system to cycle a few times before he took a third bottle from his jacket. In that time his L.E.D. shifted to yellow from red and held the improved color without any problem. "I promise I won't do that again."
"It's okay, kid. Just work on getting your Thirium level back up and we'll talk about this later."
"Of course. There are other matters that are more important to attend to at the moment."
The funeral itself was a surprisingly beautiful affair with dozens of family members and friends to the artist in attendance. Hundreds of other mourners; fans of Carl's work, respectfully waited outside the cemetery for the family to depart the premises before entering to pay their respects to the fallen artist. The sky was bright blue with dark gray clouds that perfectly reflected the dark melancholy being shown toward a beautifully bright person. The break in the rain was greatly appreciated as it gave the mourners the chance they needed to visit the cemetery without being bombarded in icy cold raindrops that would make the already glum group of people feel even worse.
Quietly Connor and Hank sat behind Markus, Leo and North who were seated in the front row during the service at the cemetery. As the pastor spoke in a soothing voice and Connor found his words of comfort regarding the love of a father to his child especially moving. The deviant couldn't stop himself from thinking about what his life would be like after Hank passed away or how it could've gone if Hank hadn't taken him in.
In a way Connor was an orphan who found a family through Hank.
"Relax, kid." Hank whispered in a barely audible voice to the deviant as he could sense Connor's tension. "Everything will be okay."
Rising from his seat Markus approached the front of the crowd and stood before the coffin where Carl had been peacefully placed before he was to be finally laid to rest in the Earth itself. Fighting to keep the tears from his mismatched eyes Markus held his head high and looked out at the crowd of gathered mourners who had stopped by the cemetery to pay their final respects to the kindhearted and influential artist.
"Thank you for coming here to show Carl the respect he so rightfully earned." Markus spoke in a level voice as he had to force himself to keep his emotions in check in order to be understood during the final eulogy. "Carl was a man who always did appreciate an attentive audience."
The comment elicited a handful of warm chuckles as those who knew Carl best were very aware of how the man preferred being surrounded by people who were truly invested in his art and less interested in getting any of his fortune.
"As you many of you know, Carl had struggled with his own personal problems in the past but never let that prevent him from facing the future. Whenever he couldn't quite bring himself to speak about his personal issues or emotions he would be able to paint his feelings, his ideas and even his inner conflict in a way that the whole world could appreciate and understand. That ability to express himself beyond just words and actions had a positive influence on who am I now and who I wish to become."
Such beautiful words resonated with the crowd and prompted small sniffles from emotional tears.
"The world knew Carl Manfred as a groundbreaking and unique artist, but for Leo and myself we knew him as someone different. Someone far more important and someone that the world wouldn't get to see." Clasping his hands together before himself Markus tightened his hands into fists as he fought against his emotions trying to break through the surface. "He was our father. A man who loved us, protected us and guided us through our lives as we struggled to understand who we are and what we want to give back to the world."
The notion of a father was something that Connor was still trying to understand for himself and something he could only ponder as he continued to live his own life alongside his best friend.
"Our father may be gone," Markus continued in a grim tone. "but his legacy will live on through his work and through us. In time I know that as Carl's sons Leo and I will make him proud and live up to the Manfred legacy."
As Carl was laid to rest the mourners departed one by one after leaving behind white lilies to represent their sorrow and their respect atop Carl's ebony black coffin. The group thinned and dispersed until only Markus, Leo, North, Connor and Hank remained as the final mourners paying their respects to the deceased artist and father.
Markus held North's hand as he and Leo stood beside the coffin and placed their lilies down out of respect for Carl. Their feeling of loss and pain was mutual and it was clear they'd all need time to adapt to a new world that didn't have Carl a part of it.
Hank subtly nudged Connor in the side and silently motioned for him to go speak to Markus. Too familiar with grief himself Hank could tell when a person just needed a friend to talk to and a shoulder to cry on.
"...Markus." Connor approached his friend and offered him his sincerest condolences as he masked his personal discomfort perfectly. "I'm truly sorry. If you need anything from me just call. I'll be there to watch your back or listen if you need to talk."
"Thanks, Connor." Markus nodded appreciatively as his hand tightened around North's hand in emotional grief. "I'm... I'm glad you came. It's nice to have a friend here."
"Of course, that's what friends do." Forcing a smile to his face Connor tried to feign a positive demeanor but it was a futile endeavor. "Do you need me to do anything to help you?"
"No. We're going to stay here a little while longer then head back to the house. There's a few things we need to take care of regarding the estate."
Nodding slowly Connor stepped back and walked toward Hank, who was waiting beside the car parked along the drive circling the cemetery. The senior detective could see that Connor was still upset about the whole prospect of humans dying and knew that there would be a very tense, but necessary discussion once they got back to the house.
"Come on, son. There's nothing more for you to do here." Draping his right arm around Connor's shoulders Hank led the empathetic deviant back to the car and away from the prospect of death. "Let's go home and try to recover after everything we experienced today."
The two detectives returned home just as the rain began to fall for a second time, and removed their dark clothes from the funeral to replace them with their more casual, comfortable attire as they each processed the events of the day in their own unique ways. While Hank resorted to keeping his true feelings to himself and getting lost in a good book, Connor tried to analyze his emotions to pull out a logical explanation to give him a sense of guidance. It was a difficult ongoing process for the empathetic deviant who had seemingly become very aware of human mortality overnight when the very idea of losing Hank in the same way Markus lost Carl began to gnaw away at his waking thoughts.
Connor was sitting on the edge of his bed watching his aquarium intently as the bright blue, red and green fish swam about in a graceful underwater dance together. There was something soothing, if not hypnotic, about seeing the peaceful creatures co-existing in a serene environment of clear water and dark green vegetation.
Keeping quiet Hank walked into Connor's bedroom and sat down casually beside him on the foot of the bed. "How's your hangover?"
"Gone."
"Good." There was a pregnant pause as Hank pushed himself out of his normal comfort zone for Connor's sake after the emotional day. "...Want to talk?"
"About what?"
"About the funeral. About Markus." Rubbing his right palm over the back of his now messy hair Hank dared to bring up the delicate subject. "...Maybe even about death."
"No, I... I've come to terms with the fact that in the end all life must cease to exist." Connor looked at his reflection on the aquarium's glass as he compared his aesthetically younger appearance to Hank's more aged face, and noted his glowing blue L.E.D. in comparison to Hank's total lack of one. "...Including my own."
"Existential crises aren't all that uncommon after attending funerals, son. That's why this death in particular is upsetting you so much." Hank cleared his throat before he continued on in a sympathetic manner. "We've both witnessed death firsthand while on the job, but our training tells us to separate our personal feelings from the victims and focus on the cause behind their deaths rather than the tragedy that is their death. For us to actually sit back and think about the inevitably of death, how it's going to be a heavy burden when the time comes, that's..." Trailing off just a moment Hank summed everything up succinctly. "That's tough to deal with."
"This is true."
"And Carl was a really good guy. That makes his death even harder to accept." Whenever a good life was lost the world always felt especially worse. "Especially since he was Markus's father, and because we got to know him a little before he passed away."
"Hank," Connor turned his head to look at the senior detective sitting beside him, his soulful brown eyes full of raw emotion. "are you afraid to die?"
"...I used to be back when I was still young. But time changes us all and it's usually for the best." Hank patted Connor's left shoulder as he stood up from the bed and headed toward the bedroom door. "You ARE alive, son, but don't be afraid of death. It'll make you afraid to live your life, okay?"
"Okay."
"Good. Try to not think about it anymore, but if you still need to talk just come and find me." Needing his own distraction for a while Hank returned to his own business elsewhere in the house. "I'll be in the livingroom reading since we have the rain to drown out the noise of the world for a while."
Silently Connor watched Hank walk out of the bedroom before he returned his gaze to his aquarium. Staring past the fish still swimming about their unusual schools of bright colors and species Connor focused in on his own reflection on the glass once more as he thought about live and death itself.
"Hank's right. I am alive."
Sighing once Connor closed his soulful brown eyes and mentally steeled himself against the flood of emotion that had been threatening to break through his mind all day. Strength of the mind was as important as strength of the heart.
"I am still alive. I won't let fear hold me back and I will live my life to the fullest."
Looking at the opened doorway of his bedroom Connor thought about his life and experiences with Hank, and made an unheard promise to the senior detective that he wouldn't let the prospect of death keep him from living his life.
"I will make you proud and live a life that will be remembered... dad."
-next chapter-